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contributes more to the cultivation of propriety, [tations with much harshness; in long performances than remarks on the works of those who have most they are scarcely to be avoided; and in shorter excelled. I shall therefore endeavour, at this visit, they may be indulged, because the train of the to entertain the young students in poetry with an composition may naturally involve them, or the examination of Pope's Epitaphs. scantiness of the subject allow little choice. HowTo define an Epitaph is useless; every one knows ever, what is borrowed is not to be enjoyed as our that it is an inscription on a Tomb. An epitaph, own; and it is the business of critical justice to give therefore, implies no particular character of writ-every bird of the Muses his proper feather. ing, but may be composed in verse or prose. It is indeed commonly panegyrical; because we are seldom distinguished with a stone but by our friends; but it has no rule to restrain or mollify it, except this, that it ought not to be longer than common beholders may be expected to have leisure and patience to peruse.

ON

CHARLES EARL OF DORSET.
In the Church of Wythyham in Sussex.
Dorset, the grace of courts, the Muse's pride,
Patron of arts, and judge of nature, died.
The scourge of pride, though sanctified or great,
Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state;
Yet soft in nature, though severe his lay,
His anger moral, and his wisdom gay.
Blest satirist! who touch'd the means so true,
As show'd, Vice had his hate and pity too.
Blest courtier! who could king and country please,
Yet sacred kept his friendships, and his ease.
Blest peer! his great forefather's every grace
Reflecting, and reflected in his race;
Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets shine,
And patriots still, or poets, deck the line.

The first distich of this epitaph contains a kind of information which few would want, that the man for whom the tomb was erected, died. There are indeed some qualities worthy of praise ascribed to the dead, but none that were likely to exempt him from the lot of man, or incline us much to wonder that he should die. What is meant by "judge of nature," is not easy to say. Nature is not the object of human judgment; for it is vain to judge where we cannot alter. If by nature is meant what is commonly called nature by the critics, a just representation of things really existing, and actions really performed, nature cannot be properly opposed to art; nature being, in this sense, only the best effect of art.

The scourge of pride

Blest courtier

Whether a courtier can properly be commended for keeping his ease sacred, may perhaps be dis putable. To please king and country, without sacrificing friendship to any change of times, was a very uncommon instance of prudence or felicity, and deserved to be kept separate from so poor a commendation as care of his case. I wish our poets would attend a little more accurately to the use of the word sacred, which surely should never be applied in a serious composition, but where some reference may be made to a higher Being, or where some duty is exacted or implied. A man may keep his friendship sacred, because promises of friendship are very awful ties; but methinks he cannot, but in a burlesque sense, be said to keep his ease sacred.

Blest peer!

The blessing ascribed to the peer has no connexion with his peerage; they might happen to any other man whose posterity were likely to be regarded.

I know not whether this epitaph be worthy either of the writer or the man entombed.

ON

SIR WILLIAM TRUMBAL,

One of the principal Secretaries of State to King
William III. who, having resigned his place,
died in retirement at Easthampstead in Berk-
shire, 1716.

A pleasing form; a firm, yet cautious mind;
Sincere, though prudent; constant, yet resign'd;
Honour unchanged, a principle profest,
Fix'd to one side, but moderate to the rest;
An honest courtier, yet a patriot too;
Just to his prince, and to his country true;
Fill'd with the sense of age, the fire of youth,
A scorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth;
A generous faith, from superstition free;
A love to peace, and hate of tyranny;
Such this man was; who now, from earth removed,
At length enjoys that liberty he loved.

Of this couplet, the second line is not, what is intended, an illustration of the former. Pride, in the Great, is indeed well enough connected with knaves in state, though knaves is a word rather too ludicrous and light; but the mention of sanctified In this epitaph, as in many others, there appears, pride will not lead the thoughts to fops in learn- at the first view, a fault which I think scarcely any ing, but rather to some species of tyranny or op- beauty can compensate. The name is omitted. pression, something more gloomy and more formi-The end of an epitaph is to convey some account dable than foppery.

Yet soft his nature

of the dead; and to what purpose is any thing told of him whose name is concealed? An epitaph, and a history of a nameless hero, are equally absurd, ther are scattered at the mercy of fortune to be ap since the virtues and qualities so recounted in ei

This is a high compliment, but was not first bestowed on Dorset by Pope. The next verse is ex-propriated by guess. The name, it is true, may be tremely beautiful.

Blest satirist!

read upon the stone; but what obligation has it to the poet, whose verses may wander over the earth, and leave their subject behind them, and who is

In this distich is another line of which Pope was forced, like an unskilful painter, to make his purnot the author. I do not mean to blame these imi-pose known by adventitious help?

This epitaph is wholly without elevation, and Ennobled by himself, by all approved, contains nothing striking or particular; but the poet Praised, wept, and honour'd, by the Muse he loved. is not to be blamed for the defects of his subject.] He said perhaps the best that could be said. There for an epitaph; and therefore some faults are to be The lines on Craggs were not originally intended

are, however, some defects which were not made necessary by the character in which he was employed. There is no opposition between an honest courtier and a patriot; for, an honest courtier cannot but be a patriot.

It was unsuitable to the nicety required in short compositions, to close his verse with the word too; every rhyme should be a word of emphasis; nor can this rule be safely neglected, except where the length of the poem makes slight inaccuracies excusable, or allows room for beauties sufficient to overpower the effects of petty faults.

At the beginning of the seventh line the word filled is weak and prosaic, having no particular adaptation to any of the words that follow it.

The thought in the last line is impertinent, having no connexion with the foregoing character, nor with the condition of the man described. Had the epitaph been written on the poor conspirator* who died lately in prison, after a confinement of more than forty years, without any crime proved against him, the sentiment had been just and pathetical; but why should Trumbal be congratulated upon his liberty, who had never known restraint?

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imputed to the violence with which they are torn from the poem that first contained them. We may, however, observe some defects. There is a redundancy of words in the first couplet: it is superfluous to tell of him, who was sincere, true, and faithful, that he was in honour clear.

fourth line, which is not very obvious: where is There seems to be an opposition intended in the the relation between the two positions, that he gained no title and lost no friend?

It may be proper here to remark the absurdity of joining, in the same inscription, Latin and English, or verse and prose. If either language be preferable to the other, let that only be used; for, should be given in one tongue, and part in another, no reason can be given why part of the information other occasion; and to tell all that can be convenion a tomb, more than in any other place, or on any ently told in verse, and then to call in the help of expedient, or of an attempt unaccomplished. Such prose, has always the appearance of a very artless who tells part of his meaning by words, and conan epitaph resembles the conversation of a foreigner, veys part by signs.

INTENDED FOR MR. ROWE.
In Westminster Abbey.
Thy relics, Rowe, to this fair urn we trust,
And sacred place by Dryden's awful dust;
Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies,
To which thy tomb shall guide inquiring eyes.
Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest!
Blest in thy genius; in thy love too, blest!
One grateful woman to thy fame supplies
What a whole thankless land to his denies.

Of this inscription the chief fault is, that it be longs less to Rowe, for whom it was written, thar to Dryden, who was buried near him; and indeed gives very little information concerning either.

This epitaph is principally remarkable for the artful introduction of the name, which is inserted with a peculiar felicity, to which chance must conTo wish Peace to thy shade is too mythological cur with genius, which no man can hope to attain to be admitted into a Christian temple: the ancient twice, and which cannot be copied but with servile worship has infected almost all our other compositions, and might therefore be contented to spare our epitaphs. Let fiction, at least, cease with life, and let us be serious over the grave.

imitation.

I cannot but wish that, of this inscription, the two last lines had been omitted, as they take away from the energy what they do not add to the sense.

ON

JAMES CRAGGS, ESQ. In Westminster Abbey.

JACOBUS CRAGGS,

REGI MAGNE BRITANNIE A SECRETIS

ET CONSILIIS SANCTORIBUS

PRINCIPIS PARITER AC POPULI AMOR ET DELICIA
VIXIT TITULIS ET INVIDIA MAJOR,
ANNOS HEU PAUCOS, XXXV,

OB. FEB. XVI. MDCCXX.

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere :
In action faithful, and in honour clear!
Who broke no promise, served no private end
Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend;

ON

MRS. CORBET,

Who died of a Cancer in her Breast.*
Here rests a woman, good without pretence,
Blest with plain reason, and with sober sense;
No conquest she, but o'er herself, desired;
No arts essay'd, but not to be admired.
Passion and pride were to her soul unknown,
Convinced that virtue only is our own.
So unaffected, so composed a mind,
So firm, yet soft, so strong, yet so refined,
Heaven, as its purest gold, by tortures tried;
The saint sustain'd it, but the woman died.

I have always considered this as the most valuable of all Pope's epitaphs; the subject of it is a

* In the North aisle of the parish church of St. Marga.

Major Bernardi, who died in Newgate, Sept. 20, 1736. ret, Westminster.

character not discriminated by any shining or emi- [subjects, he must be forgiven if he sometimes wannent peculiarities; yet that which really makes, ders in generalities, and utters the same praises though not the splendour, the felicity of life, and over different tombs. that which every wise man will choose for his final, and lasting companion in the languor of age, in the quiet of privacy, when he departs weary and disgusted from the ostentatious, the volatile, and the vain. Of such a character, which the dull overlook, and the gay despise, it was fit that the value should be made known, and the dignity established. Domestic virtue, as it is exerted without great occasions, or conspicuous consequences, in an even unnoted tenor, required the genius of Pope to display it in such a manner as might attract regard, and enforce reverence. Who can forbear to lament that this amiable woman has no name in the verses?

If the particular lines of this inscription be examined, it will appear less faulty than the rest. There is scarcely one line taken from commonplaces, unless it be that in which only Virtue is said to be our own. I once heard a Lady of great beauty and excellence object to the fourth line, that it contained an unnatural and incredible panegyric. Of this, let the ladies judge.

ON THE MONUMENT OF THE

HON. ROBERT DIGBY AND OF HIS SISTER
MARY,

Erected by their Father the Lord Digby, in the
Church of Sherborne in Dorsetshire, 1727.

Go! fair example of untainted youth,

Of modest wisdom, and pacific truth;

Composed in sufferings, and in joy sedate,"

Good without noise, without pretension great.

Just of thy word, in every thought sincere,

The scantiness of human praises can scarcely be made more apparent, than by remarking how often Pope has, in the few epitaphs which he composed, found it necessary to borrow from himself. The fourteen epitaphs which he has written, comprise about a hundred and forty lines, in which there are more repetitions than will easily be found in all the rest of his works. In the eight lines which make the character of Digby, there is scarce any thought, or word, which may not be found in the other epitaphs.

The ninth line, which is far the strongest and most elegant, is borrowed from Dryden. The conclusion is the same with that on Harcourt, but is here more elegant and better connected.

ON

SIR GODFREY KNELLER,

In Westminster Abbey, 1723.
Kneller! by Heaven, and not a master taught,
Whose art was nature, and whose pictures thought;
Now for two ages, having snatch'd from fate
Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great,
Lies crown'd with Princes' honours, Poets' lays,
Due to his merit and brave thirst of praise.

Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie
Her works; and dying, fears herself may die.

Of this epitaph the first couplet is good, the second not bad, the third is deformed with a broken metaphor, the word crowned not being applicable to the honours or lays; and the fourth is not only borrowed from the epitaph on Raphael, but of a

Who knew no wish but what the world might hear: very harsh construction.
Of softest manners, unaffected mind,

Lover of peace, and friend of human kind.
Go, live! for heaven's eternal year is thine,
Go, and exalt thy mortal to divine.

And thou, blest maid! attendant on his doom,
Pensive has follow'd to the silent tomb,
Steer'd the same course to the same quiet shore,
Not parted long, and now to part no more!
Go, then, where only bliss sincere is known!
Go, where to love and to enjoy are one!

Yet take these tears; mortality's relief,
And, till we share your joys, forgive our grief:
These little rites, a stone, a verse receive,
'Tis all a father, all a friend can give!

This epitaph contains of the brother only a general indiscriminate character, and of the sister tells nothing but that she died. The difficulty in writing epitaphs is to give a particular and appropriate praise. This, however, is not always to be performed, whatever be the diligence or ability of the writer; for, the greater part of mankind have no character at all, have little that distinguishes them from others equally good or bad, and therefore nothing can be said of them which may not be applied with equal propriety to a thousand more. It is indeed no great panegyric, that there is inclosed in this tomb one who was born in one year, and died in another; yet many useful and amiable lives have been spent, which leave little materials for any other memorial. These are however not the proper subjects of poetry; and whenever friendship, or any other motive, obliges a poet to write on such

ON

GENERAL HENRY WITHERS,

In Westminster Abbey, 1729.

Here, Withers, rest! thou bravest, gentlest mind,
Thy country's friend, but more of human kind.
O! born to arms! O! worth in youth approved!
O! soft humanity in age beloved!
For thee the hardy veteran drops a tear,
And the gay courtier feels the sigh sincere.
Withers, adieu! yet not with thee remove
Thy martial spirit, or thy social love!
Amidst corruption, luxury, and rage,
Still leave some ancient virtues to our age:
Nor let us say (those English glories gone,)
The last true Briton lies beneath this stone.

The epitaph on Withers affords another instance of common-places, though somewhat diversified, by mingled qualities, and the peculiarity of a profession..

The second couplet is abrupt, general, and unpleasing; exclamation seldom succeeds in our language, and, I think, it may be observed that the particle O! used at the beginning of the sentence, always offends.

The third couplet is more happy; the value expressed for him by different sorts of men, raises him to esteem; there is yet something of the common cant of superficial satirists, who suppose that the insincerity of a courtier destroys all his sensa

tions, and that he is equally a dissembler to the for a poet. The wit of man, and the simplicity of living and the dead. a child, make a poor and vulgar contrast, and raise At the third couplet I should wish the epitaph no ideas of excellence either intellectual or moral. to close, but that I should be unwilling to lose the In the next couplet rage is less properly introtwo next lines, which yet are dearly bought if duced after the mention of mildness and gentleness, they cannot be retained without the four that fol-which are made the constituents of his character; low them. for a man so mild and gentle to temper his rage, was not difficult.

ON

MR. ELIJAH FENTON,

At Easthamstead in Berkshire, 1730.
This modest stone, what few vain marbles can,
May truly say, 'Here lies an honest man'
A Poet, blest beyond the poet's fate,
Whom heaven kept sacred from the Proud and Great;
Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease,
Content with science in the vale of peace.
Calmly he look'd on either life, and here

Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear;

From Nature's temperate feast rose satisfied,
Thank'd heaven that he lived, and that he died.

The next line is inharmonious in its sound, and mean in its conception; the opposition is obvious, and the word lash used absolutely, and without any modification, is gross and improper.

To be above temptation in poverty, and free from corruption among the Great, is indeed such a peculiarity as deserved notice. But to be a safe companion, is a praise merely negative, arising not from possession of virtue, but the absence of vice, and that one of the most odious.

As little can be added to his character, by asserting that he was lamented in his end. Every man that dies is, at least by the writer of his epitaph, supposed to be lamented; and therefore this The first couplet of this epitaph is borrowed from general lamentation does no honour to Gay. Crashaw. The four next lines contain a species of The first eight lines have no grammar; the adpraise peculiar, original, and just. Here, there-jectives are without any substantives and the epifore, the inscription should have ended, the latter thets without a subject. part containing nothing but what is common to

The thought in the last line, that Gay is buried every man who is wise and good. The character in the bosoms of the worthy and the good, who are of Fenton was so amiable that I cannot forbear to distinguished only to lengthen the line, is so dark wish for some poet or biographer to display it that few understand it; and so harsh, when it is more fully for the advantage of posterity. If he explained, that still fewer approve.

did not stand in the first rank of genius, he may claim a place in the second; and, whatever criticism may object to his writings, censure could find very little to blame in his life.

ON

MR. GAY,

In Westminster Abbey, 1732.

Of manners gentle, of affections mild;
In wit, a man; simplicity, a child;
With native humour tempering virtuous rage,
Form'd to delight at once and lash the age;
Above temptation, in a low estate,
And uncorrupted, even among the Great:
A safe companion and an easy friend,
Unblamed through life, lamented in thy end.
These are thy honours! not that here thy bust
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust!
But that the Worthy and the Good shall say,
Striking their pensive bosoms-Here lies Gay!

As Gay was the favourite of our author, this epitaph was probably written with an uncommon degree of attention; yet it is not more successfully executed than the rest, for it will not always happen that the success of a poet is proportionate to his labour. The same observation may be extended to all works of imagination, which are often influenced by causes wholly out of the performer's power, by hints of which he perceives not the origin, by sudden elevations of mind which he cannot produce in himself, and which sometimes rise when he expects them least.

The two parts of the first line are only echoes of each other; gentle manners and mild affections, if they mean any thing, must mean the same.

That Gay was a man in wit is a very frigid commendation; to have the wit of a man is not much

F

INTENDED FOR

SIR ISAAC NEWTON,
In Westminster Abbey.
ISAACUS NEWTONIUS:
Quem Immortalem

Testantus, Tempus, Natur, Cœlum:
Mortalem

Hoc marmoe fatetur.

Nature, and Nature's laws, lay hid in night:
God said, Let Newton be! And all was light.

Of this epitaph, short as it is, the faults seem not to be very few. Why part should be Latin, and part English, is not easy to discover. In the Latin the opposition of Immortalis and Mortalis, is a mere sound, or a mere quibble; he is not immortal in any sense contrary to that in which he is mortal. In the verses the thought is obvious, and the words night and light are too nearly allied.

ON

EDMUND DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
Who died in the 19th Year of his Age, 1735
If modest youth, with cool reflection crown'd,
And every opening virtue blooming round,
Could save a parent's justest pride from fate,
Or add one patriot to a sinking state;
This weeping marble had not ask'd thy tear,
Or sadly told how many hopes lie here!
The living virtue now had shone approved,
The senate heard him, and his country loved
Yet softer honours, and less noisy fame,
Attend the shade of gentle Buckingham:
In whom a race, for courage famed, and art,
Ends in the milder merit of the heart:
And, chiefs or sages, long to Britain given,
Pays the last tribute of a saint to Heaven.

This epitaph Mr. Warburton prefers to the rest; that though he wrote the epitaph in a state of unbut I know not for what reason. To crown with certainty, yet it could not be laid over him till his reflection, is surely a mode of speech approaching grave was made. Such is the folly of wit when it to nonsense. Opening virtues blooming round, is is ill employed.

something like tautology: the six following lines The world has but little new; even this wretchare poor and prosaic. Art is in another couplet edness seems to have been borrowed from the folused for arts, that a rhyme may be had to heart. lowing tuneless lines; The six last lines are the best, but not excellent.

The rest of his sepulchral performances hardly deserve the notice of criticism. The contemptible 'Dialogue' between HE and SHE should have been suppressed for the author's sake.

In his last epitaph on himself, in which he attempts to be jocular upon one of the few things that make wise men serious, he confounds the living man with the dead:

Under this stone, or under this sill,

Or under this turf, &c.

Ludovici Areosti humantur ossa
Sub hoc marmore, vel sub hac humo,
Sub quicquid voluit benignus hæres,
Sive hærede benignior comes, seu
Opportunius incidens Viator:

Nam scire haud potuit futura, sed nec
Tanti erat vacuum sibi cadaver
Ut utnam cuperet parare vivens,
Vivens ista tamen sibi caravit,
Quæ inscribi voluit suo sepulchro
Olim siquod haberetis sepulchrum.

Surely Ariosto did not venture to expect that his

When a man is once buried, the question, under trifle would have ever had such an illustrious imiwhat he is buried, is easily decided. He forgot, tator.

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