Born at London, 1712: Died there, Nov. 25, 1785. English Poet. He was the son of a Hamburg merchant, and entered into business with his father. His chief work, an epic poem, “Leonidas,” appeared in 1737. He enlarged it and republished it in 1770, and it has been translated into French and German. Its success was partly due to its usefulness to the opponents of Walpole. He also published “London, etc.” (1739), “Boadicea” (a tragedy, 1753), “Medea” (1761), and “The Athenaid,” an epic in 30 books, published in 1787 by his daughter.
Personal
The greatest coxcomb and the greatest oaf that ever met in blank verse or prose.
We spent the evening with Miss Hamilton; who, I fancy, will have another name by the time you get this letter. I was much amused with hearing old Leonidas Glover sing his own fine ballad of “Hosier’s Ghost,” which was very affecting. He is past eighty. Mr. Walpole coming in just afterward, I told him how highly I had been pleased. He begged me to entreat for a repetition of it. I suppose you recollect that it was the satire conveyed in this little ballad upon the conduct of Sir Robert Walpole’s ministry, which is thought to have been a remote cause of his resignation. It was a very curious circumstance to see his son listening to the recital of it with so much complacency. Such is the effect of the lapse of time. I have rarely heard a more curious instance of the absence of mind produced by poetic enthusiasm, than that which occurred when the author of “Leonidas” made one of a party of literati assembled at the house of Mr. Gilbert West, at Wickham. Lord Lyttleton, on opening his window one morning, perceived Glover pacing to and fro with a whip in his hand, by the side of a fine bed of tulips just ready to blow, and which were the peculiar care of the lady of the mansion, who worshiped Flora with as much ardour as Glover did the Muses. His mind was at that instant teeming with the birth of some little ballad, when Lord Lyttleton, to his astonishment and dismay, perceived him applying his whip with great vehemence to the stalks of the unfortunate tulips; all of which, before there was time to awaken him from his revery, he had completely levelled with the ground: And when the devastation he had committed was afterward pointed out to him, he was so perfectly unconscious of the proceeding that he could with difficulty be made to believe it.
At the age of twenty-five he published nine books of his “Leonidas.” The poem was immediately taken up with ardour by Lord Cobham, to whom it was inscribed, and by all the readers of verse, and leaders of politics, who professed the strongest attachment to liberty. It ran rapidly through three editions, and was publicly extolled by the pen of Fielding, and by the lips of Chatham. Even Swift in one of his letters from Ireland, drily inquires of Pope, “who is this Mr. Glover, who writ ‘Leonidas,’ which is reprinting here, and hath great vogue?” Overrated as “Leonidas” might be, Glover stands acquitted of all attempts or artifice to promote its popularity by false means. He betrayed no irritation in the disputes which were raised about its merit; and his personal character appears as respectable in the ebb as in the flow of his poetical reputation.
Leonidas, 1737
Some contemporary writers, calling themselves critics, preferred “Leonidas” in its day to “Paradise Lost;” because it had smoother versification, and fewer hard words of learning. The re-action of popular opinion, against a work that has been once over-rated, is apt to depress it beneath its just estimation. It is due to “Leonidas” to say, that its narrative, descriptions, and imagery, have a general and chaste congruity with the Grecism of its subject. It is far, indeed, from being a vivid or arresting picture of antiquity; but it has an air of classical taste and propriety in its design; and it sometimes places the religion and manners of Greece in a pleasing and impressive light…. The undeniable fault of the entire poem is, that it wants impetuosity of progress, and that its characters are without warm and interesting individuality. What a great genius might have made of the subject, it may be difficult to pronounce by supposition; for it is the very character of genius to produce effects which cannot be calculated. But imposing as the names of Leonidas and Thermopylæ may appear, the subject which they formed for an epic poem was such, that we cannot wonder at its baffling the powers of Glover.
We are not without our literary talk either. It did not extend far, but as far as it went, it was good. It was bottomed well; had good grounds to go upon. In the cottage was a room, which tradition authenticated to have been the same in which Glover, in his occasional retirements, had penned the greater part of his “Leonidas.” This circumstance was nightly quoted, though none of the present inmates, that I could discover, appeared ever to have met with the poem in question. But that was no matter. Glover had written there, and the anecdote was pressed into the account of the family importance. It diffused a learned air through the apartment.
Glover’s “Leonidas,” though only party spirit could have extolled it as a work of genius, obtained no inconsiderable sale, and a reputation which flourished for half a century. It has a place now in the two great general collections, and deserves to hold it. The author has the merit of having departed from bad models, rejected all false ornaments and tricks of style, and trusted to the dignity of his subject. And though the poem is cold and bald, stately rather than strong in its best parts, and in general rather stiff than stately, there is in its very nakedness a sort of Spartan severity that commands respect.
Nor probably was Glover’s blank verse epic of “Leonidas” which appeared so early as 1737, much read when he himself passed away from among men, in the year 1785, at the age of seventy-four, although it had had a short day of extraordinary popularity, and is a performance of considerable rhetorical merit.
It is not altogether deficient in poetical merit, but as an epic it is a decided failure.
Power is visible in this epic, which displays also a large amount of knowledge, but the salt of genius is wanting, and the poem, despite many estimable qualities, is now forgotten.
General
The “Athenaid,” which could not be included in Anderson’s collection, is contained in this. It ought always to accompany the “Leonidas.” Mr. Chalmers censures it because, he says, the events of history are so closely followed as to give the whole the air of a poetical chronicle. To this opinion we may oppose the fact of having ourselves repeatedly perused it in early youth, for the interest which the story continually excited. Glover endeavoured to imitate the ancients, but wanted strength to support the severe style which he had chosen. He has, however, many and great merits, this especially among others, that instead of treading in the sheep-track wherein the writers of modern epics, till his time, servum pecus, had gone one after the other, he framed the stories of both his poems according to their subject, without reference to any model, or any rule but that of propriety and good sense.
Believe me, I walked with an impression of awe on my spirits, as W—— and myself accompanied Mr. Klopstock to the house of his brother, the poet, which stands about a quarter of a mile from the city gate…. He then talked of Milton and Glover, and thought Glover’s blank verse superior to Milton’s. W—— and myself expressed our surprise; and my friend gave his definition and notion of harmonious verse, that it consisted (the English iambic blank verse above all) in the apt arrangement of pauses and cadences, and the sweep of whole paragraphs,
| ——“with many a winding bout | |
| Of linked sweetness long drawn out,” |
His Epic Poem rather disappointed the world. The critic showed it to be replete with poetic excellence, and the patriot bosom glowed at the very name of Leonidas; yet it faded away as deficient in its interest, and too narrow in its plan. What has been said tauntingly of the French, may be more liberally and not less justly put:—Les modernes n’ont pas la tête epique. Mr. Glover wrote three tragedies, two of which were upon the subject of Medea and Jason; the other had for its heroine, Boadicea. Mrs. Yates was fond of Glover’s cold declamation, and frequently displayed herself in the character of Medea. Glover, like Mason, loved and preferred the classic model, and would not see the incompatibility of the Greek chorus with the modern stage.
The Greek plays differ so much from those we are accustomed to, that it is extremely difficult to adapt them to the taste of a modern audience—Glover has succeeded much better than anybody else—the character of Medea is, on the whole, drawn in a masterly manner—but Glover has softened the violence of her temper rather too much—the thought of making her kill her children in a temporary fit of phrenzy is a very happy one—the scenes in which Medea is not concerned have little to recommend them.
The elegant but cold Epics of Glover.
He published two elaborate poems in blank verse, “Leonidas” and the “Athenaid”—the former bearing reference to the memorable defence of Thermopylæ, and the latter continuing the war between the Greeks and Persians. The length of these poems, their want of sustained interest, and lesser peculiarities not suited to the existing poetical taste, render them next to unknown in the present day. But there is smoothness and even vigour, a calm moral dignity and patriotic elevation in “Leonidas,” which might even yet find admirers. Thomson is said to have exclaimed, when he heard of the work of Glover: “He write an epic poem, who never saw a mountain!”… His chief honour is that of having been an eloquent and patriotic city merchant, at the same time that he was eminent as a scholar and man of letters.
Glover was a man of considerable powers, but he was stronger on the side of politics and practical life than in the field of literature. In his poems the rhetoric of party warfare is more conspicuous than the inspiration of genius. His best-known poem, “Leonidas,” was based it is true on his reading of Herodotus and Plutarch; but in reality it is the utterance of one who wished to stir his fellow-citizens to an anti-Walpole “patriotic” policy. So far as the form is concerned it may be called a blank-verse echo of Pope’s version of Homer, the influence of which may continually be traced; and under the inspiration of this model Glover expands a few simple chapters of his authority Herodotus into the dimensions of an epic by inventing various characters, love-affairs, and thrilling episodes. Campbell remarks that the want of “impetuosity of progress” is the chief fault in the poem. It does not seem clear that this censure is just. The action moves on swiftly enough, and is sufficiently varied by epoch-making or decorative incidents. The personages introduced are not inactive, or long-winded; they have only the damning fault of being dull. The reader does not much care what they do, nor what becomes of them. A sort of glossy rhetoric is the general characteristic of the poem, which accordingly is not without striking passages, but the lack of human interest mars the total effect…. Of the “Athenaid,” a sequel to “Leonidas,” with its thirty books, it is enough to say that it is simply unreadable. It appears to be a florid reproduction, with new incidents and scenery, of the story of Græco-Persian war, from Thermopylæ to Platæa. The opposition to Sir Robert Walpole found in Glover an enthusiastic ally. One of his chief objects in writing “London” is said to have been to exasperate the public mind against Spain, a power to which Walpole was held to have truckled. In the same year, after the news came of Vernon’s success at Porto Bello, Glover wrote the spirited ballad of “Hosier’s Ghost,” rather perhaps with the design of damaging Walpole than exalting Vernon. The political aim interests us no more; but the music and swing of the verse,—perhaps also the naval cast of the imagery and the diction,—will keep this ballad popular with Englishmen for many a year to come.
Narrative poetry in the eighteenth century was of the slenderest dimensions and the most modest temper. Poems of description and sentiment seemed to leave no place for poems of action and passion…. That estimable London merchant, Glover, had indeed written an heroic poem containing the correct number of Books; its subject was a lofty one; the sentiments were generous, the language dignified; and inasmuch as Leonidas was a patriot and a Whig, true Whigs and patriots bought and praised the poem. But Glover’s poetry lacks the informing breath of life. His second poem, “The Athenaid,” appeared after his death, and its thirty books fell plumb into the water of oblivion. It looked as if the narrative poem à longue haleine was dead in English literature.
Another and more ambitious Thomsonian…. A politician whom indignation against Walpole hurried into copious blank verse. There must be few men now alive who can boast a more than fragmentary acquaintance with the epics of Glover. “Leonidas” (in nine books, afterwards enlarged), 1737, begins his poetical career, and “The Athenaid” (positively in thirty books), 1788, closed it. Glover is only remembered by his extremely spirited ballad of “Admiral Hosier’s Ghost,” which, however, he might have improved by shortening to five syllables the last line of each octet.
His ponderous “Athenaid,” an epic poem in thirty books, was published in 1787 by his daughter, Mrs. Halsey. It is much longer and so far worse than “Leonidas,” but no one has been able to read either for a century…. The “Memoirs” are of little value, though they contribute something to our knowledge of the political intrigues of the time.
There is one poem of Glover’s,—“London, or the Progress of Commerce,”—that illustrates the fashionable poetical style of the Queen Anne time—the prevalent idea as to how Nature was to be dressed to advantage. As a London merchant, Glover no doubt felt his heart swell within him as he looked at the bustle of many nations on the London wharves, and saw ships from many distant regions crowding up the Thames. How did he give expression to this exaltation of mind? He could not present the coarse and vulgar details of trade to a fine Queen Anne gentleman; he asks his reader to look at them through a fine allegorical veil, transports us to the regions of mythology, and gives a long narrative of a love affair between the sea-god Neptune and the nymph named Phœnice, the guardian spirit of the Phœnicians. The beautiful nymph Commerce was the offspring of this Union. This is the poet’s way of relating the prosaic fact that the Phœnicians were the first great traders by sea; and the events in the subsequent history of Commerce are given as incidents in the life of the nymph Commerce, from her cradle and nursery till the time when she fixed her abode in Great Britain.
