The triumph of the Whigs was unbounded; and, among other symptoms of exultation, it displayed itself in that which gave rise to this poem of Dryden. This was a medal of Lord Shaftesbury, struck by William Bower, an artist, who had executed some popular pieces allusive to the Roman Catholic plot.[466] The obverse presented the bust of the earl, with the legend, Antonio Comiti De Shaftesbury; the reverse, a view of London, the bridge, and the Tower; the sun is rising above the Tower, and just in the act of dispersing a cloud; the legend around the exergue is Lætamur, and beneath is the date of his acquittal, 24th November, 1681. The partizans of the acquitted patriot wore these medals at their breasts; and care was taken that this emblem should be made as general as possible.[467]
The success of "Absalom and Achitophel" made the Tories look to our author as the only poet whose satire might check, or ridicule, the popular triumph of Shaftesbury. If the following anecdote, which Spence has given on the authority of a Catholic priest, a friend of Pope, be absolutely correct, Charles himself engaged Dryden to write on this theme. "One day as the king was walking in the Mall, and talking with Dryden, he said, 'If I was a poet, and I think I am poor enough to be one, I would write a poem on such a subject, in the following manner.' He then gave him the plan of "The Medal." Dryden took the hint, carried the poem, as soon as it was written, to the king, and had a present of a hundred broad pieces for it."
The merits of "The Medal," as a satirical poem, are universally acknowledged; nor does it greatly suffer from being placed, as the subject naturally invites, in comparison with "Absalom and Achitophel." The latter, as a group of figures, presents greater scope and variety, and may be therefore more generally interesting than the portrait of an individual; but it does not more fully display the abilities of the artist. Nothing can be more forcibly described, than the whole of Shaftesbury's political career; and, to use the nervous language of Johnson, "the picture of a man, whose propensions to mischief are such, that his best actions are but inability of wickedness, is very skilfully delineated, and strongly coloured." The comparison of his best and most politic councils, to the cures affected by those called white witches, whom it was unlawful to consult, because, even in accomplishing innocent purposes, they used infernal arts, is poignantly severe. The succeeding lines, in which the poet ridicules bitterly that appeal to the people, which the demagogues of that, as of all periods, were desirous to represent as the criterion of truth, contains the essence of all that an hundred philosophers can say upon the topic. His stern and indignant picture of the citizens of London, unjust as it is, if meant to express their general character, is, in individual instances, too often verified. That looseness which habitual chicane in trade introduces into mercantile morality; that bustling activity, which, however meritorious when within its sphere, is so apt to extend itself where its exertion is only mischievous and absurd; and that natural turn to democracy, which arises from frequenting popular meetings and from ambition of civic honours; that half-acquaintance with the affairs of other countries, and half-intimacy with the laws of our own, acquired in the course of mercantile transactions,—all combine, but too often, to turn an useful sober citizen, into a meddling, pragmatical, opinionative politician. The strong and gloomy picture of the fanatics, which succeeds, describes a race of men now in a great measure extinct, of whom the influence, though declining, even in the poet's time, continued to be powerful, and which had, in the preceding generation, prostrated before them both the mitre and the throne. The comparison of the fanatical ideas of religion entertained by these dissenting teachers, with the supposed principles of the libertine and latitudinarian Shaftesbury, gave scope for some nervous satire, and led the author naturally to consider the probable result of the schemes of these incongruous allies. These he predicts, according to the progress of things after the great civil war, to be successively the dominion of presbytery, and depression of the gentry; the insurrection of the independents, and other sects, against their spiritual tyranny; quarrels between the civil and military leaders; the commons destroying the peerage; a democratical republic; a military tyranny; and, by the blessing of heaven, a restoration of the rightful heir. All these scenes had already passed at no distant period; and now, while the sword was yet in the sheath, though the hand was upon its hilt, the masterly and energetic language in which they are detailed may have tempted many to pause and think, whether the evils, of which they complained, deserved the risque of so desperate a remedy.
Such is the plan of this admirable poem. The language is as striking as the ideas and subject. The illustrations and images are short and apposite, such as give force to the argument, and flow easily into the diction, without appearing to have been laboured, or brought from a distance. I fear, however, some of the scriptural allusions are censurable, as too free, if not profane. The verse has all the commanding emphasis, with which Dryden, beyond any other poet, knew how to body forth and adorn his poetical arguments. One Alexandrine is prolonged two syllables beyond the usual length; a circumstance hardly worth notice, were it not to show the sharp-sighted malice of Dryden's enemies, who could discover this single inaccuracy, if, indeed, the licence was not intentional, amid so much sounding versification.[468]
As "The Medal" attracted immediate and extensive attention, the Whig champions stepped forth to the contest. "The Mushroom," by Edmund Hickeringell, first appeared; and, in succession, "The Medal Reversed," by Samuel Pordage, which procured its author a couplet in the second part of "Absalom and Achitophel;" "The Loyal Medal Vindicated," and the "Medal of John Bayes;" all of which, and perhaps many more, appeared in the summer and autumn of 1681. Two satires, of a more general nature, entitled, "Dryden's Satire to his Muse," and, "The Tory Poets," were also published against our author in the course of that year; a sufficient proof of the irritation of that party, whose chief he had now twice held up to public detestation.—The popularity of "The Medal" did not cease with the crisis which gave it birth; it went through many editions, and only became less known, when successive changes had totally worn away all remembrance of the intrigues of the eminent politician against whom it was directed. Johnson has said, "It is now not much read, nor perhaps generally understood; yet, a slight acquaintance with the history of the period removes all obscurity; and, though we cannot sympathize with the fervour of politics which it contains, the poetry has claims to popularity, widely independent of the temporary nature of the subject."
As the reader is now to take a long farewell of Lord Shaftesbury, it may not be unnecessary to remind him, that, when freed from the accusation of high treason, the earl continued to agitate plans of opposition to the government, which became more and more violent, as the ascendency of the court became more powerful, until open force seemed to be the only means left of accomplishing what undoubtedly he had at first hoped to carry through by political intrigue. At length he found it necessary to fly from his house in Aldersgate-Street, and take refuge in the suburbs of the city, from whence he sent messages to his associates, urging them to take arms. But he was now doomed to experience what his ardent temper had before prevented him from considering. When they came to the crisis, the different views and dispositions of the allies began to discover themselves. Russell limited his wishes to security for liberty; Monmouth stipulated his own succession on Charles' death; Sidney demanded a free commonwealth; and all dreaded Shaftesbury, who, they were sensible, was determined to be at the head of the kind of government adopted, whatever that might be. Nor were their tempers less discordant than their plans. While an inferior order of conspirators were organizing plans for assassinating the whole royal family, Monmouth was anxious for the life of his father, Russell averse to shedding the blood of his countrymen, Grey, Howard, and Trenchard, from meaner motives, unwilling to encounter the dangers of war. After a desperate threat to commence the rising, and make the honour and danger all his own, Shaftesbury at length fled to Holland, where he landed in November 1682. The magistrates of Amsterdam gave him welcome, and enrolled him among their citizens, to evade any claim by the court of England on his person; yet they failed not to remind him of his former declaration, of Delenda est Carthago, accompanying the freedom which they presented to him with these words: Ab nostra Carthagine, nondum deleta, salutem accipe. Here, while pondering the consequences of former intrigues, and perhaps adjusting new machinations, Shaftesbury was seized with the gout in his stomach, and expired on the 21st January, 1682-3.
To sift the character of this extraordinary man, and divide his virtues from his vices, his follies from his talents, would be a difficult, perhaps an impossible task. Charles is said to have borne testimony, that he had more law than all his judges, and more divinity than all his bishops. But his shining qualities were sullied by that inordinate ambition, which brought its own punishment, in an unworthy flight, an untimely, at least a precipitated, death, and a dubious reputation.
Sleep, thou most active of mankind! oh make
Thy last low bed, and death's long requiem take,