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Just his conceptions, natural and great: But, only us'd in proper time and place, His feelings strong, his words enforc'd with weight. Severest judgment must allow them grace. Was speech-fam'd Quin himself to hear him speak, If bunglers, form'd on Imitation's plan, Envy would drive the color from his cheek: Just in the way that monkeys mimic man, But stepdame Nature, niggard of her grace, Their copied scene with mangled arts disgrace, Denied the social pow'rs of voice and face. And pause and start with the same vacant face ; Fix'd in one frame of features, glare of eye We join the critic laugh ; whose tricks we scom, Passions, like chaos, in confusion lie:
Which spoil the scenes they mean them to adorn. In vain the wonders of his skill are tried
But when, from Nature's pure and genuine source To form distinctions Nature hath denied.
These strokes of acting flow with gen'rous force, His voice no touch of harmony admits,
When in the features all the soul's portray'd, Irregularly deep and shrill by fits :
And passions, such as Garrick's, are display'd, The two extremes appear like man and wife, To me they seem from quickest feelings caught: Coupled together for the sake of strife.
Each start is Nature ; and each pause is Thought His action's always strong, but sometimes such, When Reason yields to Passion's wild alarms, That candor must declare he acts too much. And the whole state of man is up in arms; Why must impatience fall three paces back? What but a critic could condemn the play's, Why paces three return to the attack ?
For pausing here, when Cool-Sense pauses there ? Why is the right leg too forbid to stir,
Whilst, working from the heart, the fire I trace, Unless in motion semicircular ?
And mark it strongly flaming to the face; Why must the hero with the Nailor vie,
Whilst, in each sound, I hear the very man; And hurl the close-clench'd fist at nose or eye? I can't catch words, and pity those who can. In royal John, with Philip angry grown,
Let wits, like spiders, from the tortur'd brain, I thought he would have knock'd poor Davies Fine-draw the critic-web with curious pain : down.
The gods,—a kindness I with thanks must pay, — Inhuman tyrant! was it not a shame,
Have formd me of a coarser kind of clay ; To fright a king so harmless and so tame? Not stung with envy, nor with pain diseasid, But, spite of all defects, his glories rise ;
A poor dull creature, still with Nature pleas'd ; And Art, by Judgment form’d, with Nature vies : Hence to thy praises, Garrick, I agree, Behold him sound the depth of Hubert's soul, And, pleas'd with Nature, must be pleas'd with thee Whilst in his own contending passions roll;
Now I might tell, how silence reign'd throughou View the whole scene, with critic judgment scan, And deep attention hush'd the rabble rout. And then deny him merit if you can.
How ev'ry claimant, tortur'd with desire, Where he falls short, 'tis Nature's fault alone; Was pale as ashes, or as red as fire: Where he succeeds, the merit's all his own. But, loose to fame, the Muse more simply acts
Last Garrick came.-- Behind him throng a train Rejects all flourish, and relates mere facts. of snarling critics, ignorant as vain.
The judges, as the several parties came, claim, One finds out -“He's of stature somewhat With temper heard, with judgment weigh'd each low
And, in their sentence happily agreed,
If pow'rs of acting vast and unconfin'd;
If strong expression, and strange pow'rs which lie “ Avaunt, unnat'ral start, affected pause."
Within the magic circle of the eye ; For me, by Nature formd to judge with phlegm, If feelings which few hearts, like his, can know, I can't acquit by wholesale, nor condemn.
And which no face so well as his can show, The best things carried to excess are wrong: Deserve the pref'rence-Garrick, take the chair; The start may be too frequent, pause too long; Nor quit it—till thou place an equal there.”
EDWARD YOUNG, a poet of considerable celebrity, this year that he commenced his famous poem, the was the only son of Dr. Edward Young, fellow of " Night Thoughts." This production is truly original Winchester College, and rector of Upham, Hamp in design and execution : it imitates none, and has shire. He was born at his father's living, in 1684, no imitators. Its spirit is, indeed, gloomy and seand was educated at Winchester school, whence he vere, and its theology awful and overwhelming. It was removed to New-College, and afterwards to seems designed to pluck up by the roots every conCorpus-Christi College, Oxford By the favor of solation for human evils, except that founded on the Archbishop Tenison, he obtained a law-fellowship scheme of Christianity which the writer adopted ; at All-Souls. At this time his chief pursuit appears yet it presents reflections which are inculcated with to have been poetry; and it is little to his credit, a force of language, and sublimity of imagination, with respect to his choice of patrons, that he has almost unparalleled. It abounds with the faults sought them through all the political changes of the characteristic of the writer, and is spun out to a time. Tragedy was one of his favorite pursuits, in tedious length, that of nine books; but if not often which his “ Revenge,” dedicated in 1721 to the read through, it will never sink into neglect. It Duke of Wharton, was regarded as his principal was evidently the favorite work of the author, who effort. Many other performances, however, took their ever after wished to be known as the composer of turn, of which the most noted at this time were his the “ Night Thoughts." The numerous editions of “Paraphrase on Part of the Book of Job;” and “The the work sufficiently prove the hold which it has Love of Fame, or the Universal Passion."
taken of the public mind. Young, now in his forty-fourth year, having given The lyric attempts of Young were singularly unup his prospects as a layman, took orders, and was fortunate, not one of his pieces of that class having nominated one of the Royal Chaplains. He pub- a claim for perusal; and, indeed, many of his other lished some prose works as the fruits of his new poetical writings display inequalities, and defects of profession, of which were, “ The True Estimate of taste and judgment, very extraordinary for a writer Human Life," representing only its dark side ; and of his rank. In an edition of his works, published
An Apology for Princes, or the Reverence due to during his life, in four vols. 8vo., he himself exGovernment,” a sermon, well suited to a court cluded several compositions, which he thought of chaplain. In 1730 he was presented, by his col. inferior merit, and expunged many dedications, of lege, to the rectory of Welwyn, in Hertfordshire; which he was doubtless ashamed. A letter to him, and in the following year he married Lady Eliza- from Archbishop Secker, proves, however, that at a beth Lee, widow of Colonel Lee, and daughter of late period of life he had not ceased to solicit prethe Earl of Lichfield. This lady he lost in 1741, ferment. He latterly fell under domestic sway, and after she had borne him one son. Other affecting was entirely subdued to the control of a housekeeper. family losses occurred about that period, and aggra- Young continued to exist till April 1765, when he vated his disposition to melancholy; and it was in expired in his 84th year.
PART OF THE BOOK OF JOB.
'THRICE-HAPPY Job long liv'd in regal state,
And spotted plagues, that mark'd his limbs all o'er
And blotted from the year; nor fears to crave “ Are mists begotten? Who their father knew?
His words were daring, and displeas'd his friends; A sudden desert spreads o'er realms defac'd,
“ Thou know'st me not; thy blindness cannot see And sentiments oppos'd with equal heat; How vast a distance parts thy God from thee. Fix'd in opinion, both refuse to yield,
Canst thou in whirlwinds mount aloft ? Canst thou And summon all their reason to the field :
In clouds and darkness wrap thy awful brow? So high at length their arguments were wrought, And, when day triumphs in meridian light, They reach'd the last extent of human thought : Put forth thy hand, and shade the world with nigbt? A pause ensued—When, lo! Heaven interpos'd, " Who lanch'd the clouds in air, and bid them And awfully the long contention clos'd.
roll Full o'er their heads, with terrible surprise, Suspended seas aloft, from pole to pole? A sudden whirlwind blacken'd all the skies: Who can refresh the burning sandy plain, (They saw, and trembled !) from the darkness broke And quench the summer with a waste of rain ? A dreadful voice, and thus th' Almighty spoke : Who, in rough deserts far from human toil,
“Who gives his tongue a loose so bold and vain, Made rocks bring forth, and desolation smile? Censures my conduct, and reproves my reign ; There blooms the rose, where human face ne'er shone, Lifts up his thought against me from the dust, And spreads its beauties to the Sun alone. And tells the World's Creator what is just?
“ To check the shower, who lifts his hand on high, Of late so brave, now lift a dauntless eye,
And shuts the sluices of th' exhausted sky, Face my demand, and give it a reply :
When Earth no longer mourns her gaping veins, Where didst thou dwell at Nature's early birth? Her naked mountains, and her russet plains ; Who laid foundations for the spacious Earth ? But, new in life, a cheerful prospect yields Who on its surface did extend the line,
of shining rivers, and of verdant fields; Its form determine, and its bulk confine ?
When groves and forests lavish all their bloom, Who fix'd the corner-stone? What hand, declare, And Earth and Heaven are fill'd with rich perfume? Hung it on nought, and fasten'd it on air ;
“ Hast thou e'er scald my wintry skies, and seen When the bright morning stars in concert sung, Of hail and snows my northern magazine? When Heaven's high arch with loud hosannas rung, These the dread treasures of mine anger are, When shouting sons of God the triumph crownd, My funds of vengeance for the day of war, And the wide concave thunder'd with the sound ? When clouds rain death, and storms at my command Earth's numerous kingdoms, hast thou view'd them Rage through the world, or waste a guilty land. all ?
Who taught the rapid winds to fly so fast, And can thy span of knowledge grasp the ball ? Or shakes the centre with his eastern blast ? Who heav'd the mountain, which sublimely stands, Who from the skies can a whole deluge pour? And casts its shadow into distant lands?
Who strikes through Nature with the solemn roar “ Who, stretching forth his sceptre o'er the deep, of dreadful thunder, points it where to fall, Can that wide world in due subjection keep? And in fierce lightning wraps the flying ball ? I broke the globe, I scoop'd its hollow side,
Not he who trembles at the darted fires, And did a bason for the floods provide ;
Falls at the sound, and in the flash expires. I chain’d them with my word ; the boiling sea,
Who drew the comet out to such a size, Work'd up in tempests, hears my great decree And pour'd his flaming train o'er half the skies? • Thus far, thy floating tide shall be convey’d; Did thy resentment hang him out? Does he And here, O main, be thy proud billows stay’d.' Glare on the nation, and denounce, from thee?
“ Hast thou explor'd the secrets of the deep, “Who on low Earth can moderate the rein. Where, shut from use, unnumber'd treasures sleep? That guides the stars along th' ethereal plain? Where, down a thousand fathoms from the day, Appoint their seasons, and direct their course, Springs the great fountain, mother of the sea ? Their lustre brighten, and supply their force? Those gloomy paths did thy bold foot e'er tread, Canst thou the skies' benevolence restrain, Whole worlds of waters rolling o'er thy head ? And cause the Pleiades to shine in vain?
“ Hath the cleft centre opend wide to thee? Or, when Orion sparkles from his sphere, Death's inmost chambers didst thou ever see Thaw the cold season, and unbind the year? E'er knock at his tremendous gate, and wade Bid Mazzaroth his destin'd station know, To the black portal through th' incumbent shade? And teach the bright Arcturus where to glow ? Deep are those shades; but shades still deeper hide Mine is the night, with all her stars; I pour My counsels from the ken of human pride. Myriads, and myriads I reserve in store. [born “Where dwells the light? In what refulgent “ Dost thou. pronounce where day-light shall be dome ?
And draw the purple curtain of the morn; And where has darkness made her dismal home? Awake the Sun, and bid him come away, Thou know'st, no doubt, since thy large heart is And glad thy world with his obsequious ray ? fraught
Hast thou, enthron'd in flaming glory, driven With ripen'd wisdom, through long ages brought ; Triumphant round the spacious ring of Heaven? Since Nature was call'd forth when thou wast by, That pomp of light, what hand so far displays, And into be ng rose beneath thine eye!
That distant Earth lies basking in the blaze?
PARAPHRASE (N PART OF THE BOOK OF JOB.
Who did the soul with her rich powers invest, Did thy command her yellow pinion lift And light up reason in the human breast?
So high in air, and set her on the clift, To shine, with fresh increase of lustre bright, Where far above thy world she dwells alone, When stars and Sun are set in endless night? And proudly makes the strength of rocks her own To these my various questions make reply." Thence wide o'er Nature takes her dread survey, Th’Almighty spoke; and, speaking, shook the sky. And with a glance predestinates her prey?
What then, Chaldæan sire, was thy surprise! She feasts her young with blood; and, hovering o'er Thus thou, with trembling heart and downcast Th’unslaughter'd host, enjoys the promis'd gore. eyes
Know'st thou how many moons, by me assign’d, Once and again, which I in groans deplore, Roll o'er the mountain goat, and forest hind, My tongue has err’d; but shall presume no more. While pregnant they a mother's load sustain ? My voice is in eternal silence bound,
They bend in anguish, and cast forth their pain. And all my soul falls prostrate to the ground.” Hale are their young, from human frailties freed;
He ceas'd: when, lo, again th' Almighty spoke; Walk unsustain'd, and unassisted feed; The same dread voice from the black whirlwind They live at once; forsake the dam's warm side ; broke.
Take the wide world, with Nature for their guide, “Can that arm measure with an arm divine ? Bound o'er the lawn, or seek the distant glade ; And canst thou thunder with a voice like mine? And find a home in each delightful shade. Or in the hollow of thy hand contain
" Will the tall reem, which knows no Lord but me, The bulk of waters, the wide-spreading main, Low at the crib, and ask an alms of thee ? When, mad with tempests, all the billows rise Submit his unworn shoulder to the yoke, In all their rage, and dash the distant skies? Break the stiff clod, and o'er thy furrow smoke?
• Come forth, in beauty's excellence array'd ; Since great his strength, go trust him, void of care ; And be the grandeur of thy power display'd; Lay on his neck the toil of all the year; Put on omnipotence, and, frowning, make
Bid him bring home the seasons to thy doors, The spacious round of the creation shake; And cast his load among thy gather'd stores. Dispatch thy vengeance, bid it overthrow
Didst thou from service the wild ass discharge, Triumphant vice, lay lofty tyrants low,
And break his bonds, and bid him live at large, And crumble them to dust. When this is done, Through the wide waste, his ample mansion, roam I grant thy safety lodg'd in thee alone;
And lose himself in his unbounded home? Of thee thou art, and may'st undaunted stand By Nature's hand magnificently fed, Behind the buckler of thine own right-hand. His meal is on the range of mountains spread;
* Fond man! the vision of a moment made! As in pure air aloft he bounds along, Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade! He sees in distant smoke the city throng; What worlds hast thou produc'd, what creatures Conscious of freedom, scorns the smother'd train, fram'd ;
The threatening driver, and the servile rein. What insects cherish'd, that thy God is blam'd ? Survey the warlike horse! didst thou invest When pain'd with hunger, the wild raven's brood With thunder his robust distended chest ? Loud calls on God, importunate for food : No sense of fear his dauntless soul allays; Who hears their cry, who grants their hoarse request,|"Tis dreadful to behold his nostrils blaze ; And stills the clamor of the craving nest?
To paw the vale he proudly takes delight, “ Who in the stupid ostrich has subdued And triumphs in the fullness of his might; A parent's care, and fond inquietude ?
High-rais'd he snuffs the battle from afar, While far she flies, her scatter'd eggs are found, And burns to plunge amid the raging wer; Without an owner, on the sandy ground;
And mocks at death, and throws his foum around Cast out on fortune, they at mercy lie.
And in a storm of fury shakes the ground. And borrow life from an indulgent sky:
How does his firm, his rising heart advance Adopted by the Sun, in blaze of day,
Full on the brandish'd sword, and shaken lance: They ripen under his prolific ray.
While his fix'd eyeballs meet the dazzling shield, Unmindful she, that some unhappy tread
Gaze, and return the lightning of the field ! May crush her young in their neglected bcd. He sinks the sense of pain in generous pride, What time she skims along the field with speed, Nor feels the shaft that trembles in his side; She scorns the rider, and pursuing steed.
But neighs to the shrill trumpet's dreadful blast “ How rich the peacock! what bright glories run Till death; and when he groans, he groans his last From plume to plume, and vary in the Sun!
“ But, fiercer still, the lordly lion stalks, He proudly spreads them to the golden ray, Grimly majestic in his lonely walks ; Gives all his colors, and adorns the day;
When round he glares, all living creatures fly; With conscious state the spacious round displays, He clears the desert with his rolling eye. And slowly moves amid the waving blaze. Say, mortal, does he rouse at thy command,
" Who taught the hawk to find, in seasons wise, And roar to thee, and live upon thy hand ? Perpetual summer, and a change of skies? Dost thou for him in forests bend thy bow, When clouds deform the year, she mounts the wind, And to his gloomy den the morsel throw, Shoots to the south, nor fears the storm behind ; Where bent on death lie hid his tawny brood, The Sun returning, she returns again,
And, couch'd in dreadful ambush, pant for blood; Lives in his beams, and leaves ill days to men. Or, stretch'd on broken limbs, consume the day, Though strong the hawk, though practis'd well in darkness wrapt, and slumber o'er their prey ? to fly,
By the pale Moon they take their destin'd round, An eagle drops her in a lower sky;
And lash their sides, and furious tear the ground. An eagle, when, deserting human sight,
Now shrieks and dying groans the desert fill; She seeks the Sun in her unwearied flight: They rage, they rend ; their ravenous jaws distil
With crimson foam ; and, when the banquet's o'er, Or crown'd his triumph with a single scale? They stride away, and paint their steps with gore; Whose heart sustains him to draw near? Behold, In flight alone the shepherd puts his trust, Destruction yawns; his spacious jaws unfold, And shudders at the talon in the dust.
And marshal'd round the wide expanse, disclose " Mild is my behemoth, though large his frame; Tecth edg’d with death, and crowding rows on rows: Smooth is his temper, and represt his flame, What hideous fangs on either side arise ! While unprovok'd. This native of the food And what a deep abyss between them lies ! Lifts his broad foot, and puts ashore for food ; Mete with thy lance, and with thy plummet sound, Earth sinks beneath him, as he moves along The one how long, the other how profound. To seek the herbs, and mingle with the throng. His bulk is charg'd with such a furious soul, See with what strength his harden'd loins are bound, That clouds of smoke from his spread nostrils roll, All over proof, and shut against a wound. As from a furnace; and, when rous'd his ire, How like a mountain cedar moves his tail !
Fate issues from his jaws in streams of fire. Nor can his complicated sinews fail.
The rage of tempests, and the roar of seas, Built high and wide, his solid bones surpass Thy terror, this thy great superior please ; The bars of steel ; his ribs are ribs of brass ; Strength on his ample shoulder sits in state ; His port majestic and his armed jaw
His well-join'd limbs are dreadfully complete ; Give the wide forest, and the mountain, law. His flakes of solid flesh are slow to part; The mountains feed him; there the beasts admire As steel his nerves; as adamant his heart. The mighty stranger, and in dread retire ;
“ When, late awak'd, he rears him from the floods, At length his greatness nearer they survey, And, stretching forth his stature to the clouds, Graze in his shadow, and his eye obey.
Writhes in the Sun aloft his scaly height, The fens and marshes are his cool retreat,
And strikes the distant hills with transient light, His noontide shelter from the burning heat ; Far round are fatal damps of terror spread. Their sedgy bosoms his wide couch are made, The mighty fear, nor blush to own their dread. And groves of willows give him all their shade. “ Large is his front; and, when his burnish'd eyes “ His eye drinks Jordan up, when fir'd with Lift their broad lids, the morning seems to rise. drought
“ In vain may death in various shapes invade, He trusts to turn its current down his throat; The swift-wing'd arrow, the descending blade; In lessen'd waves it creeps along the plain : His naked breast their impotence defies ; He sinks a river, and he thirsts again.
The dart rebounds, the brittle falchion flies. “ Go to the Nile, and, from its fruitful side, Shut in himself, the war without he hears, Cast forth thy line into the swelling tide : Safe in the tempest of their rattling spears ; With slender hair leviathan command,
The cumber'd strand their wasted volleys strow; And stretch his vastness on the loaded strand. His sport, the rage and labor of the foe. Will he become thy servant ? Will he own
“ His pastimes like a caldron boil the flood, Thy lordly nod, and tremble at thy frown? And blacken ocean with the rising mud; Or with his sport amuse thy leisure day,
The billows feel him, as he works his way; And, bound in silk, with thy sofi maidens play? His hoary footsteps shine along the sea ;
Shall pompous banquets swell with such a prize? The foam high-wrought with white divides the green And the bowl journey round his ample size ? And distant sailors point where Death has been. Or the debating merchants share the prey,
His like Earth bears not on her spacious face; And various limbs to various marts convey ?
Alone in Nature stands his dauntless race,
And holds dominion o'er the sons of pride."
Thou canst accomplish all things, Lord of Whence come the gifts that are on me conferr'd?
Might! My lavish fruit a thousand valleys fills,
And every thought is naked to thy sight. And mine the herds that graze a thousand hills : But, oh!'ihy ways are wonderful, and lie Earth, sea, and air, all Nature is my own ; Beyond the deepest reach of mortal eye. And stars and Sun are dust beneath my throne. Oft have I heard of thine almighty power; And dar'st thou with the World's great Father vie, But never saw thee till this dreadful hour. Thou, who dost tremble at my creature's eye? O’erwhelm'd with shame, the Lord of Life I see, " At full my large leviathan shall rise,
Abhor myself, and give my soul to thee. Boast all his strength, and spread his wondrous size. Nor shall my weakness tempt thine anger more : Who, great in arms, e'er stripp'd his shining mail, Man is not made to question, but adore.”