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. How To 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. Blest courtier! 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; Whether a courtier can properly be commended but it has no rule to restrain or mollify it, except for keeping his ease sacred, may perhaps be disthis, that it ought not to be longer than common be-putable. To please king and country, without saholders may be expected to have leisure and pa-crificing friendship to any change of times, was a tience to peruse. ON CHARLES EARL OF DORSET. In the Church of Wythyham in Sussex. The scourge of pride, though sanctified or great, 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 very uncommon instance of prudence or felicity, and deserved to be kept separate from so poor a commendation as care of his ease. 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 A pleasing form; a firm, yet cautious mind; 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, This is a high compliment, but was not first be-ther are scattered at the mercy of fortune to be apsince the virtues and qualities so recounted in eistowed 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 purot the author. I do not mean to blame these imi-pase 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 em- from the poem that first contained them. We may, imputed to the violence with which they are torn ployed. 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. 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, The thought in the last line is impertinent, havno reason can be given why part of the information ing no connexion with the foregoing character, nor on a tomb, more than in any other place, or on any should be given in one tongue, and part in another, with the condition of the man described. Had the other occasion; and to tell all that can be conveniepitaph been written on the poor conspirator* who died lately in prison, after a confinement of more ently told in verse, and then to call in the help of than forty years, without any crime proved against prose, has always the appearance of a very artless him, the sentiment had been just and pathetical; expedient, or of an attempt unaccomplished. Such but why should Trumbal be congratulated upon his who tells part of his meaning by words, and conan epitaph resembles the conversation of a foreigner, liberty, who had never known restraint? ON THE HON. SIMON HARCOURT, Only Son of the Lord Chancellor Harcourt, at the To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near, How vain is reason, eloquence how weak! veys part by signs. INTENDED FOR MR. ROWE. Thy relics, Rowe, to this fair urn we trust, Of this inscription the chief fault is, that it be longs less to Rowe, for whom it was written, than 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 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. 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. ON MRS. CORBET, Who died of a Cancer in her Breast.* 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 Erected by their Father the Lord Digby, in the 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, Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie 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 appliacable 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. Lover of peace, and friend of human kind. And thou, blest maid! attendant on his doom, Yet take these tears; mortality's relief, 1 ON GENERAL HENRY WITHERS, In Westminster Abbey, 1729. Here, Withers, rest! thou bravest, gentlest mind, The epitaph on Withers affords another instance of common-places, though somewhat diversified, by mingled qualities, and the peculiarity of a profession. 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 The third couplet is more happy; the value exbeen spent, which leave little materials for any pressed for him by different sorts of men, raises other memorial. These are however not the pro- him to esteem; there is yet something of the comper subjects of poetry; and whenever friendship, mon cant of superficial satirists, who suppose that or any other motive, obliges a poet to write on such the insincerity of a courtier destroys all his sensa 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. 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. At the third couplet I should wish the epitaph to close, but that I should be unwilling to lose the two next lines, which yet are dearly bought if they cannot be retained without the four that follow them. ON MR. ELIJAH FENTON, At Easthamstead in Berkshire, 1730. Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear; From Nature's temperate feast rose satisfied, a child, make a poor and vulgar contrast, and raise no ideas of excellence either intellectual or moral. In the next couplet rage is less properly introduced after the mention of mildness and gentleness, which are made the constituents of his character; for a man so mild and gentle to temper his rage, was not difficult. 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, origina!, 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 elaim 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; 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, Testantus, Tempus, Natur, Cœlum: Hoc marmoe fatetur. Nature, and Nature's laws, lay hid in night: 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. gentlemen will dread him as a wit, and a hundred (is but the knowledge of the sense of our predecesinnocent women as a satirist. In a word, whatever sors. Therefore they who say our thoughts are not be his fate in poetry, it is ten to one but he must give our own, because they resemble the Ancients, may up all the reasonable aims of life for it. There are, as well say our faces are not our own, because they indeed, some advantages accruing from a genius to are like our fathers; and indeed it is very unreasonpoetry, and they are all I can think of, the agreeable able that people should expect us to be scholars, and power of self-amusement when a man is idle or alone; yet be angry to find us so. the privilege of being admitted into the best company; and the freedom of saying as many careless things as other people, without being so severely remarked upon. I fairly confess that I have served myself all I could by reading; that I made use of the judgment of authors dead and living; that I omitted no means in my power to be informed of my errors, both by my friends and enemies: but the true reason these pieces are not more correct, is owing to the consideration how short a time they and I have to live: one may be ashamed to consume half one's days in bringing sense and rhyme together; and what critic can be so unreasonable, as not to leave a man time enough for any more serious employment, or more agreeable amusement? I believe if any one, early in his life, should contemplate the dangerous fate of authors, he would scarce be of their number on any consideration. The life of a wit is a warfare upon earth; and the present spirit of the learned world is such, that to attempt to serve it, any way, one must have the constancy of a martyr, and a resolution to suffer for its sake. I could wish people would believe, what I am pretty certain they will not, that I have been much The only pleaf shall use for the favour of the publess concerned about fame than I durst declare till lic is, that I have as great a respect for it as most this occasion, when, methinks, I should find more authors have for themselves; and that I have sacricredit than I could heretofore, since my writings ficed much of my own self-love for its sake, in prehave had their fate already, and it is too late to think venting not only many mean things from seeing the of prepossessing the reader in their favour. I would light, but many which I thought tolerable. I would plead it as some merit in me, that the world has never not be like those authors who forgive themselves been prepared for these trifles by prefaces, biassed by some particular lines for the sake of a whole poem, recommendation, dazzled with the names of great and, vice versa, a whole poem for the sake of some patrons, wheedled with fine reasons and pretences, particular lines. I believe no one qualification is so or troubled with excuses. I confess it was want of likely to make a good writer as the power of rejectconsideration that made me an author; I writ, being his own thoughts; and it must be this, if any thing, cause it amused me; I corrected, because it was as that can give me a chance to be one. For what I pleasant to me to correct as to write; and I publish- have published, I can only hope to be pardoned; but ed, because I was told I might please such as it was for what I have burned, I deserve to be praised. On a credit to please. To what degree I have done this this account the world is under some obligation to I am really ignorant: I had too much fondness for me, and owes me the justice, in return, to look upon my productions to judge of them at first, and too no verses as mine that are not inserted in this Colmuch judgment to be pleased with them at last; but lection. And perhaps nothing could make it worth I have reason to think they can have no reputation my while to own what are really so, but to avoid the which will continue long, or which deserves to do imputation of so many dull and immoral things as, so; for they have always fallen short, not only of partly by malice, and partly by ignorance, have been what I read of others, but even of my own ideas of ascribed to me. I must further acquit myself of the poetry. If any one should imagine I am not in earnest, I desire him to reflect, that the Ancients (to say the least of them) had as much genius as we; and that to take more pains, and employ more time, cannot fail to produce more complete pieces. They constantly applied themselves not only to that art, but to that single branch of an art to which their talent was most powerfully bent; and it was the business of their lives to correct and finish their works for posterity. If we can pretend to have used the same industry, let us expect the same immortality; though, if we took the same care, we should still lie under a further misfortune; they writ in languages that became universal and everlasting, while ours are extremely limited both in extent and in duration. A mighty foundation for our pride! when the utmost we can hope is but to be read in one island, and to be thrown aside at the end of one age. presumption of having lent my name to recommend any miscellanies or works of other men; a thing I never thought becoming a person who has hardly credit enough to answer for his own. In this office of collecting my pieces, I am altogether uncertain whether to look upon myself as a man building a monument, or burying the dead. If time shall make it the former, may these poems, as long as they last, remain as a testimony that their author never made his talents subservient to the mean and unworthy ends of party or self-interest; the gratification of public prejudices or private passions; the flattery of the undeserving, or the insult of the unfortunate. If I have written well, let it be considered, that it is what no man can do without good sense, a quality that not only renders one capable of being a good writer, but a good man. And if I have made any acquisition in the opinion of any one under the notion of the former, let it be continued to me under no other title than that of the latter. All that is left us is to recommend our productions by the imitation of the Ancients: and it will be found But if this publication be only a more solemn funetrue, that, in every age, the highest character for sense ral of my remains, I desire it may be known that I and learning has been obtained by those who have die in charity, and in my senses; without any murmurs been most indebted to them. For, to say truth, against the justice of this age, or any mad appeals to whatever is very good sense, must have been com- posterity. I declare, I shall think the world in the mon sense in all times; and what we call Learning, right, and quietly submit to every truth which time |