not to earth but when obliged by neceffity. The profe of ordinary occurrences is beneath the dignity of poetry.

He who is connected with the Author of the Night Thoughts only by veneration for the Poet and the Chriftian may be allowed to obferve, that Young is one of thofe, concerning whom, as you remark in your account of Addison, it is proper rather to fay "nothing that is "falfe than all that is true."

But the fon of Young would almost fooner, I know, pafs for a Lorenzo, than see himself vindicated, at the expence of his father's memory, from follies which, if it was blameable in a boy to have committed them, it is furely praife-worthy in a man to lament, and certainly not only unneceffary but cruel in a biographer to record.

Of the Night Thoughts, notwithstanding their author's profeffed retirement, all are inscribed to great or to growing names. He had not yet weaned himfelf from Earls and Dukes, from Speakers of the House of Commons, Lords Commiffioners of the Treafury, and Chancellors of the Exchequer. In Night Eight the politician plainly betrays himfelf

Think no poft needful that demands a knave,
When late our civil helm was fhifting hands,
So P-thought: think better if you can.

Yet it must be confeffed, that at the conclufion of Night Nine, weary perhaps of courting earthly patrons, he tells his foul,

Henceforth

Thy patron he, whofe diadem has dropt
Yon gems of heaven; Eternity thy prize;
And leave the racers of the world their own.

VOL. IV.

S

The

The Fourth Night was addreffed by "a much-in"debted Mufe" to the Honourable Mr. Yorke, now Lord Hardwicke; who meant to have laid the Mufe. under ftill greater obligations, by the living of Shenfield in Effex, if it had become vacant,

The firft Night concludes with this paffage

Dark, though not blind, like thee, Meonides;
Or Milton, thee. Ah! could I reach your ftrain
Or his who made Meonides our own!

Man too he fung. Immortal man I fing.
Oh had he preft his theme, purfued the track
Which opens out of darkness into day!
Oh had he mounted on his wing of fire,
Soar'd, where I fink, and fung immortal man-
How had it bleft mankind, and refcued me!

To the author of thefe lines was dedicated, in 1756, the first volume of an Elay on the Writings and Genius of Pope, which attempted, whether juftly or not, to pluck from Pope his Wing of Fire, and to reduce him to a rank at least one degree lower than the first clafs of English poets. If Young accepted and approved the dedication, he countenanced this attack upon the fame, of him whom he invokes as his Mufe.

Part of "paper-fparing" Pope's Third Book of the Odyssey, depofited in the Museum, is written' upon the back of a Letter figned E. Young, which is clearly the hand-writing of our Young. The Letter, dated only May the 2d, feems obfcure; but there can be little doubt that the friendship he requests was a literary one, and that he had the higheft literary opinion of Pope. The request was a prologue, I am told.

"Dear

"Dear Sir,

May the 2d.

"Having been often from home, I know not if you have done me the favour of calling on me. But, "be that as it will, I much want that inftance of your

friendship I mentioned in my laft; a friendship "I am very fenfible I can receive from no one but yourself. I should not urge this thing fo much but "for very particular reafons; nor can you be at a lofs "to conceive how a trifle of this nature may be of se"rious moment to me; and while I am in hopes of the દર great advantage of your advice about it, I fhall not be "fo abfurd as to make any further step without it. I know you are much engaged, and only hope to hear "of you at your entire leisure.

"I am, Sir, your most faithful

" and obedient fervant,

"E. YOUNG."

Nay, even after Pope's death, he fays, in Night Seven:

Pope, who could't make immortals, art thou dead? Either the Effay, then, was dedicated to a patron who difapproved his doctrine, which I have been told by the author was not the cafe; or Young, in his old age, bartered for a dedication an opinion entertained of his friend through all that part of life when he must have been beft able to form opinions.

From this account of Young, two or three fhort paffages, which ftand almoft together in Night Four, fhould not be excluded. They afford a picture, by his own hand, from the study of which my readers may choose to form their own opinion of the features of his mind, and the complexion of his life.

Ah me! the dire effect

Of loitering here, of death defrauded long ;
Of old fo gracious (and let that fuffice),
My very mafier knows me not.

I've been fo long remember'd, I'm forgot.

*

When in his courtiers' ears I pour my plaint,

They drink it as the Nectar of the Great;
And fqueeze my hand, and beg me come to-morrow,

Twice-told the period spent on ftubborn Troy,
Court-favour, yet untaken, I befiege.

If this fong lives, Pofterity fhall know

One, though in Britain born, with courtiers bred,
Who thought ev'n gold might come a day too late;
Nor on his fubtle death-bed plann'd his scheme
For future vacancies in church or ftate.

Deduct from the writer's age twice told the period spent on ftubborn Troy, and you will ftill leave him more than 40 when he fate down to the miferable fiege of court favour. He has before told us

"A fool at 40 is a fool indeed."

After all, the fiege feems to have been raised only in confequence of what the General thought his death-bed.

By thefe extraordinary Poems, written after he was fixty, of which I have been led to say so much, I hope, by the wifh of doing justice to the living and the dead, it was the defire of Young to be principally known. He entitled the four volumes which he published himfelf, The Works of the Author of the Night Thoughts.

While

While it is remembered that from these he excluded many of his writings, let it not be forgotten that the rejected pieces contained nothing prejudicial to the cause of virtue, or of religion. Were every thing that Young ever wrote to be published, he would only appear perhaps in a lefs refpectable light as a poet, and more despicable as a dedicator: he would not pafs for a worfe chriftian, or for a worfe man.-This enviable praife is due to Young. Can it be claimed by every writer? His dedications, after all, he had perhaps no right to fupprefs. They all, I believe, fpeak, not a little to the credit of his gratitude, of favours received; and I know not whether the author, who has once folemnly printed an acknowledgement of a favour, fhould not always print it.

Is it to the credit or to the difcredit of Young, as a poet, that of his Night Thoughts the French are particularly fond?

Of the Epitaph on Lord Aubrey Beauclerk, dated 1740, all I know is, that I find it in the late body of English Poetry, and that I am forry to find it there.

Notwithstanding the farewell which he feemed to have taken in the Night Thoughts of every thing which bore the least resemblance to ambition, he dipped again in politics. In 1745 he wrote Reflections on the publick Situation of the Kingdom, addressed to the Duke of Newcaftle-indignant, as it appears, to behold

-a pope-bred Princeling crawl afhore,

And whistle cut-throats, with thofe fwords that fcrap'd
Their barren rocks for wretched fuftenance,

To cut his paffage to the British throne.

This political poem might be called a Night Thought. Indeed it was originally printed as the conclufion of