Part 3
"By this, great lady, thou must then be known, When Wilton lies low levelled in the ground; And this is that which thou must call thine own, Which sacrilegious time cannot confound; Here thou survivest those; here thou art found Of late succeeding ages, fresh in fame, Where in eternal brass remains thy name."
It is also a noticeable fact that in a portrait of the Countess, a copy of which is prefixed to the edition before mentioned, the lady is taken holding in her hand a copy of "David's Psalms."
We cannot do more than give a few passages of this exquisite work of Mary Sidney. They will serve to show how carefully the subject had been studied, having regard to the circumstances, the mind and purposes of the psalmist, and how the meaning and beauty are elaborated and emphasized.
PSALM 72.
Teach the king's son, who king himself shall be, Thy judgments, Lord; thy justice make him learn: To rule thy realms as justice shall decree, And poor men's rights in judgment to discern. Then fearless peace With rich increase The mountains proud shall fill; And justice shall Make plenty fall On ev'ry humble hill.
Make him the weak support, th' oppressed relieve, Supply the poor, the quarrel-pickers quail: So endless ages shall Thee reverence give, Till eyes of heav'n, the sun and moon, shall fail. And Thou again, Shall blessings rain, Which down shall mildly flow, As showers thrown On meads new-mown, Whereby they freshly grow.
During his rule the just shall aye be green, And peaceful plenty join with plenteous peace; While of sad night the many-formèd queen Decreased shall grow, and grown, again decrease. From sea to sea He shall survey All kingdoms as his own; And from the trace Of Perah's race, As far as land is known.
The desert-dwellers at his beck shall bend, His foes then suppliant at his feet shall fling, The kings of Tharsis homage-gifts shall send; So Seba, Saba, ev'ry island king. Nay all, ev'n all, Shall prostrate fall, That crowns and sceptres wear: And all that stand At their command, That crowns and sceptres bear.
For he shall hear the poor when they complain, And lend them help, who helpless are oppress'd: His mercy shall the needy sort sustain; His force shall free their lives that live distress'd. From hidden sleight, From open might, He shall their souls redeem: His tender eyes Shall highly prize, And dear their blood esteem.
So shall he long, so shall he happy live; Health shall abound, and wealth shall never want: They gold to him, Arabia gold, shall give, Which scantness dear, and dearness maketh scant. They still shall pray That still he may So live, and flourish so: Without his praise, No nights, no days, Shall passport have to go.
Look how the woods, whose interlacèd trees, Spread friendly arms each other to embrace, Join at the head, though distant at the knees, Waving with wind, and lording on the place; So woods of corn By mountains borne Shall on their shoulders wave: And men shall pass The numerous grass, Such store each town shall have.
Look how the sun, so shall his name remain; As that in light, so this in glory one: All glories this, as that all lights shall stain: Nor that shall fail, nor this be overthrown. The dwellers all Of earthly ball In him shall hold them blest: As one that is Of perfect bliss, A pattern to the rest.
O God who art--from whom all beings be; Eternal Lord, whom Jacob's stock adore, And wondrous works are done by only Thee, Blessed be Thou, most blessed evermore. And let Thy name, Thy glorious fame, No end of blessing know: Let all this round Thy honour sound, So Lord, O be it so!
PSALM 139.
O Lord, in me there lieth naught, But to Thy search revealèd lies: For when I sit Thou markest it: No less than notest when I rise. Yea, closest closet of my thought Hath open windows to Thine eyes.
Thou walkest with me when I walk, When to my bed for rest I go, I find Thee there, And everywhere; Not youngest thought, in me doth grow, No, not one word I cast to talk, But yet unuttered, Thou dost know.
If forth I march, Thou goest before; If back I turn, Thou comest behind So forth nor back Thy guard I lack, Nay, on me, too, Thy hand I find. Well I Thy wisdom may adore, But never reach with earthly mind.
To shun Thy notice, leave Thine eye, Oh, whither might I take my way? To starry sphere? Thy Throne is there. To dead men's undelightsome stay? There is Thy walk, and there to lie Unknown, in vain I should essay.
O Sun, whom light nor flight can match, Suppose thy lightful, flightful wings Thou lend to me, And I could flee As far as thee the evening brings: Even led to West, He would me catch, Nor could I lurk with Western things.
Do thou thy best, O secret Night, In sable veil to cover me; Thy sable veil Shall vainly fail: With day unmasked my night shall be, For night is day, and darkness light, O Father of all Lights, to Thee.
While this brilliant translation of the Book of Psalms would itself have sufficed to have made the reputation of the Countess of Pembroke as a scholar and poet, her poetical work was not limited thereto. We have also from her pen: "The Tragedie of Antonie: done into English by the Countess of Pembroke," published 1595, and a "Pastoral dialogue in praise of Astrea," published in Davidson's "Poetical Rapsody," in 1662, which is stated to have been made on the occasion of a visit being paid by the Queen at the house of the Countess.
This learned lady also left in manuscript a poem of considerable length entitled, "The Countess of Pembroke's Passion." It is only during the present century that this work has been given to the world. The poem is a touching lamentation over the sufferings of the Saviour. The subject itself, and the way in which it is handled, show how thoroughly the mind of the writer was impregnated with religious thought, and her ever ready and tender sympathy. It is a poem of very unequal merit, but some stanzas are sweet. Take the following:--
He placed all rust, and had no resting place; He healed each pain, yet lived in sore distress; Deserved all good, yet lived in great disgrace; Gave all hearts joy, himself in heaviness; Suffered them live, by whom himself was slain: Lord, who can live to see such love again?
* * * * *
Where He that sits on the supernal throne, In majesty most glorious to behold, And holds the sceptre of the world alone, Hath not his garments of imbroidered gold, But he is clothed with truth and righteousness; Where angels all do sing with joyfulness.
Where heavenly love is cause of holy life, And holy life increaseth heavenly love; Where peace established without fear or strife, Doth prove the blessing of the soul's behove; Where thirst nor hunger, grief nor sorrow dwelleth Put peace in joy, and joy in peace excelleth.
The Countess of Pembroke was, throughout her life, an unselfish and generous patron of letters. The noble old library at famous Wilton was collected chiefly during her residence there. The poets of the time seem to have vied with each other in speaking her praise, and in bearing testimony to her learning and rare excellence of character. Although it may be said that to some extent the many warm eulogies passed upon her came from interested sources, and are of too flattering a character to be invariably sincere, the lady whose virtues and worth were so warmly and universally sung must have been of nobly-souled and exalted nature. Churchyard, Daniel, Smart, and others of the period, are not alone in their plaudits. None was more enthusiastic than Spenser himself. His references to her are not solitary. The following in "Colin Clout's come home again" may be mentioned:--
They all [quoth he] me gracèd goodly well, That all I praise: but in the highest place, Urania, sister unto Astrophell, In whose brave mind, as in a golden coffer, All heavenly gifts and riches lockèd are; More rich than pearls of Ind, or gold of Ophir, And in her sex more wonderful and rare.
Her age was no less honoured than her youth. It has been said of her that "when an old woman she could entrance the world by her sweet beauty of her face, the gentleness of her womanly heart, the strength and keenness of her wit, and the depth and breadth of her learning." Her husband died in the month of January, 1602. She survived him twenty years. By the marriage there were three children--William, Philip, and a daughter named Anne, who died young. William, who on the death of his father became Earl of Pembroke, was, according to Clarendon, the most universally beloved and esteemed of any man of that age. He is believed by some to have been the "W. H." of Shakespeare's Sonnets, of whom that poet says:--
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime.
From the second son, Philip, who succeeded his elder brother to the title, the present Earl of Pembroke is descended.
After having most truly lived her long life--a life faithful, devoted, and true--the Countess of Pembroke died at her town house in Aldersgate Street, on the 25th September, 1621. She was interred in the vault of her husband's family in Salisbury Cathedral.
A noble life is its own monument. To have influenced such a life as that of Philip Sidney; to have lived her own life--with its lasting impress on the literature of England, and its beneficial lessons to England's daughters--is to the subject of this sketch a more worthy and lasting memorial than stateliest pile of finest marble. We are, nevertheless, thankful for the familiar words of Ben Jonson:--
Underneath this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother. Death, ere thou hast killed another, Fair and learned, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
WILHELMINA, MARGRAVINE OF BAIREUTH.
His sorrow was my sorrow, and his joy Sent little leaps and laughs thro' all my frame.
Wilhelmina, the beloved and devoted Sister of Frederick the Great, will be remembered chiefly as such, although her high character in other respects, and her chequered and saddened life, render it one of no common interest.
To her immediate parentage she owed little; and, as is so frequently the case, we must attribute her excellences to a remoter ancestry. Her father, the then Prince Royal, afterwards Frederick William of Prussia, at no period of his life seems to have been possessed of any qualities of either mind or heart which "become the throned monarch better than his crown," or are of a truly kingly character. It was said of him by Macaulay that while "he must be allowed to have possessed some talents for administration," his "character was disfigured by odious vices, and his eccentricities were such as had never before been seen out of a madhouse."
While her father was harsh and cruel, her mother (a daughter of George I. of England) was scheming and selfish.
Wilhelmina Frederica Sophia was born on the 3rd July, 1709, and as her parents had looked for an heir, the royal infant had only an ungracious reception, and the presence of three sovereigns as sponsors at her baptism was a poor recompense for the love which ought to have been her portion.
Little Wilhelmina soon showed that she was a precocious child and possessed of more than ordinary intelligence. When she was three years old a little brother was born. This was Frederick (afterwards Frederick the Great) who became such a power in Europe, with whom her own life was destined to be so much associated, and to whom she became from childhood so passionately devoted.
The education of the young Princess was given into the hands of a lady who seems to have been well recommended to her parents, but was in no sense qualified for the post; and the acquirements attained and good sense displayed by the pupil in after life, speak more for the qualities of her own mind and heart than for the care bestowed upon the choice of her associates.
In her Memoirs the Princess has mentioned a somewhat curious circumstance, which she takes care to state she considered only a coincidence. When she was about seven years old the Queen, her mother, sent for a Swedish astrologer, who was in Berlin, to tell the fortunes of herself and children. This astrologer foretold that Frederick would have a troubled youth, but that he would afterwards become one of the greatest princes that ever reigned, that he would make considerable acquisitions and die an Emperor. Of the Princess he said that her hand was not so lucky as that of her brother--that her life would be a tissue of fatalities, that she would be asked in marriage by four sovereigns, but would marry none of them. Singularly enough, the prediction was afterwards fulfilled.
Giving an account of her life at eight years old, she says: "All my time was taken up with my masters, and my only recreation was to see my brother. Never was affection equal to ours. His understanding was good, but his disposition gloomy. He was long considering before he returned an answer; but then his answers were just. He had great difficulty in learning, and it was expected that in time he would be more remarkable for good sense than for wit. My vivacity, on the contrary, was very great. I was prompt at repartee, and my memory was excellent. The King was passionately fond of me; he never paid so much attention to any of his children as to me. But my brother was odious to him, and never appeared before him but to be ill-used; this inspired the Prince Royal with an invincible fear of his father, which grew up with him--even to the age of maturity."
As she grew up, the childhood of Wilhelmina was sadly embittered by Court intrigues and home quarrels. State favourites plotting against the King, endeavoured to induce him, while she was yet quite a child, to engage his daughter in marriage in a certain direction. An ambitious mother, scheming in another, with the members of the Royal household acting as spies and go-betweens, did not augur well for the tranquillity and happiness of the Princess. Alternately caressed and snubbed, fondled and cuffed, Wilhelmina, young as she was, found her greatest pleasure in her studies and the society of her brother. It was she who first aroused him from indifference to intellectual pursuits, awakened in him a love of study, and stimulated his better nature. In this way they came to share each other's studies and recreations, and found in each other's presence mutual sympathy and consolation. To add to the misfortunes of Wilhelmina, she was shamefully ill-used and beaten by her governess, who wished, for purposes of her own, to induce her to disclose what passed between her father and mother. In consequence of this brutal treatment, Wilhelmina was from time to time seriously ill. Still Wilhelmina screened her governess, and it speaks well for her forgiving spirit that, when dismissal at last came, she deeply grieved for her, and sent her away loaded with costly presents.
Under a new governess, Madame von Sonsfeld, Wilhelmina's lot was much brighter. She says: "Madame de Sonsfeld began by studying my disposition. She observed that I was excessively timid. I trembled when she was very grave; I had not the heart to say two words together without hesitating. She represented to the Queen that it would be proper to divert me, and to treat me with much gentleness, to remove my fears; that I was extremely docile; and that, by exciting my ambition, she might do with me whatever she chose. The Queen left her complete mistress of my education. She every day reasoned with me about indifferent subjects, and endeavoured to inspire me with good sentiments on every occurrence. I applied myself to reading, which soon became my favourite occupation. The emulation which she excited in me made me relish my other studies. I learnt English, Italian, history, geography, philosophy, and music. My improvement was surprisingly rapid; I was so intent upon learning that Madame de Sonsfeld was obliged to moderate my ardour."
An incident showing her excellent memory, altogether remarkable in a child of thirteen, may be mentioned. A certain lady, Miss Polnitz, who was unfriendly towards Wilhelmina, had one day been speaking to the Queen about what she called her ungainly figure. "It is true," said the Queen, "that she might look better; but her shape is straight, and will display itself when she has done growing. However, if you converse with her, you will find that she is not a mere automaton." "Miss Polnitz," continues Wilhelmina, "thereupon began to talk with me, but in an ironical manner, asking me questions which would have suited a child of four years. I was so vexed that I did not deign to make any reply. My sullen behaviour gave her an opportunity to hint to the Queen that I was capricious and haughty, and that I had scrutinised her from head to foot. This brought upon me severe reprimands, which continued all the time Miss Polnitz stayed at Berlin. She quarrelled with me about everything. One day the conversation turned upon powers of memory. The Queen observed that I had an excellent memory. Miss Polnitz set up a malicious grin, as much as to say that she disputed the fact. The Queen, nettled at this, offered to try me, and proposed a wager that I could learn 150 verses by heart in an hour's time. 'Well,' said Miss Polnitz, 'I will try her local memory; and I will bet that she will not remember what I shall write down.' The Queen was consequently very strenuous to maintain what she had asserted, and I was sent for. Having taken me aside, the Queen told me she would freely forgive me all that was past if I proved successful, and so caused her to win her wager. I did not know what was meant by a local memory, having never heard of it before. Miss Polnitz wrote what I was to learn. It was a series of 150 fanciful names of her own invention, all numbered. She read them twice over to me, always mentioning the numbers; after which I was obliged to repeat them in succession. I was very fortunate in the first trial; she desired a second, and asked the names out of order, mentioning merely the number. I again succeeded, to her great vexation. I had never made a greater effort of memory; yet she could not prevail with herself to bestow upon me the slightest commendation. The Queen could not account for her behaviour, and was much offended, though she held her peace."
The situation of the Princess at this, as at all times, was one by no means to be envied. By those from whom she ought to have received the most loving care she was misunderstood and neglected. Her health from time to time severely suffered. She had serious illnesses, which were disregarded by her mother, who, being herself strong and healthy, had no sympathy for those who were not so. Nor did her path become smoother as she grew older. The time seems to have been passed in schemes for her marriage, first to one Prince and then to another. The Queen had set her heart upon a double alliance with England by the marriage of Wilhelmina with the Prince of Wales, and of the Crown Prince Frederick with the Princess Amelia of England. She bent her energies for years to the accomplishment of this object, for which she seemed willing to sacrifice everything else. The King was willing, and at one time it appeared highly probable that it would be carried out. But the emissaries of Austria desired to prevent such an alliance between Prussia and England, and secretly sowed the seeds of dissension and jealousy in the Prussian household. Other marriages for Wilhelmina were suggested; first with the King of Poland, and (when negotiations for this came to an end) afterwards with the Duke of Weissenfels. All these were quite regardless of her own inclinations and affections. Her views upon marriage differed from those of both her parents. She says:--"I maintain that a happy union ought to be founded upon mutual esteem and regard. I would have chosen reciprocal affection as its basis, and that my complaisances and attentions should flow from this source. Nothing appears difficult to us for those we love.... I wished for a real friend, to whom I could feel both esteem and inclination; who might ensure my felicity; and whom I might render happy. I foresaw that the Prince of Wales would not suit me, as he did not possess the qualities which I required. The Duke of Weissenfels, on the other hand, pleased me still less. The state of my poor heart may easily be conjectured. There was no one but my governess who was acquainted with my real sentiments; and to none but her could I make them known."
Another source of ever-increasing anxiety with the Princess was her brother Frederick and his relations with the King. The Royal household was unfortunately a very unhappy one. Coarse and insufficient food only aggravated an unhappiness caused by the King's harsh and sometimes brutal treatment. Wilhelmina and her brother, in consequence of their having become the innocent cause of the King's disappointment, became the scapegoats of his unreasonable temper and violent fits of anger. Frederick grew moody and sullen, still further increasing his father's displeasure; while Wilhelmina's health became seriously impaired, and she was frequently alarmingly ill. Alluding to one of these illnesses, a fever which culminated in the smallpox, she writes: "In my short intervals of consciousness I ardently wished to die; and when I saw Madam de Sonsfeld and my good Mermann" [her old nurse] "weeping near my bed, I endeavoured to console them by telling them that I was weaned from the world, and that I was going to enjoy a repose which no one could disturb. I am, said I, the cause of both the Queen's and my brother's sorrows. If I am to die, tell the King that I have always loved him, that I have no fault to reproach myself with towards him; that therefore I hope he will give me his blessing before I quit this world. Tell him that I beseech him to treat the Queen and my brother more gently, and to bury all discontents and animosities against them in my grave. It is the only boon I wish him to grant me; and my only cause of uneasiness in my present state." During this illness she was deserted by every member of the Royal household but her brother, who went daily to spend with her what time he could spare.