been often sung by the profane as well as pious. They were written, as before observed, under the recent pressure of his sorrow for the loss of his wife, and his daughter and son-inlaw; they are addressed to Lorenzo, a man of pleasure, and the world, and who, it is generally supposed, (and very probably) was his son, then labouring under his father's displeasure. His son-in-law is said to be characterised by Philander; and his daughter was certainly the person he speaks of under the appellation of Narcissa: See Night 3. 1. 62. In her last illness he accompanied her to Montpelier, in the south of France, where she died soon after her arrival in the city*.

After her death it seems she was denied Christian burial t, on account of being reckoned a heretic, by the inhabitants of the place; which inhumanity is justly resented in the same beautiful poem: See Night 3, line 165; in which his wife also is frequently mentioned; and he thus laments the loss of all three in an apostrophe to death:

"Insatiate Archer! could not one suffice?

"Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain "And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her horn."

She died of a consumption, occasioned by her grief for the death of her mother.

The Priests refusing the Doctor leave to bury his daughter in one of their church-yards, he was obliged, with the assistance of his servant, to dig a grave in a field near Montpelier, where they deposited the body without' the help of any of the inhabitants, who consider protestants in the same light as they do brutes

He wrote his conjectures on Original Composition, when he was turned of 80; if it has blemishes mixed with its beauties, it is not to be wondered at, when we consider his great age, and the many infirmities which generally attend such an advanced period of life. However, the many excellent remarks this work abounds with, make it justly esteemed as a brightening before death: the Resignation, a poem, the last and least esteemed of all Dr. Young's works, was published a short time before his death, and only served to manifest the taper of genius, which had so long shone with peculiar brightness in him, was now glimmering in the socket. He died in his parsonage-house, at Welwyn, April 12th, 1765, and was buried, according to his own desire, (attended by all the poor of the parish) under the altar-piece of that church, by the side of his wife *. This altarpiece is reckoned one of the most curious in the kingdom, adorned with an elegant piece of needlework by the late lady Betty Young t.

Before the Doctor died, he ordered all his manuscripts to be burnt." Those that knew how much he expressed in a small compass, and that he never wrote on trivial subjects, will lament both the excess of his modesty (if I may so term it) and

* The bell did not toll at his funeral, nor was any person allowed to be in mourning.

In the middle of it are inscribed these words, "I am the bread of life." On the north side of the chancel is this inscription, as supposed by the Doctor's orders, VIRGINIBUS Increase in Wisdom and Understanding" and opposite, on the south side," PUERISQUE and in favour with God and Man."

See App. to Biog. Brit.

the irreparable loss to posterity; especially when it is considered, that he was the intimate acquaintance of Addison, and was himself one of the writers of the Spectator.

In his life-time he published two or three sermons, one of which was preached before the House of Commons. He left an only son and heir, Mr. Frederick Young, who had the first part of his education at Winchester school, and became a scholar upon the Foundation; was sent, in consequence thereof, to New College in Oxford; but there being no vacancy, (though the Society waited for no less than two years) he was admitted in the mean time in Baliol College, where he behaved so imprudently as to be forbidden the College. This misconduct disubliged his father so, much, that he never would suffer him to come into his sight afterwards: however, by his will, he bequeathed to him, after a few legacies, his whole fortune, which was considerable.

As a Christian and Divine, he might be said to be an example of primeval piety: he gave a remarkable instance of this one Sunday, when preaching in his turn at St. James's; for, though he strove to gain the attention of his audience, when he found he could not prevail, his pity for their folly got the better of all decorum; he sat back in the pulpit, and burst into a flood of tears.

The turn of his mind was naturally solemn; and he usually, when at home in the country, spent many hours in a day walking among the tombs in his own churchyard. His conversation, as well as writings, had all a reference to a future life; and this turn of mind mixed itself even with his improvements in gardening: he had, for instance, an alcove, with a bench so well painted in it, that,

real, but upon a

at a distance, it seemed to be 1 nearer approach, the deception was perceived, and this motto appeared,

INVISIBILIA NON DECIPIUNT.

The things unseen do not deceive us.

Yet, notwithstanding this gloominess of temper, he was fond of innocent sports and amusements. He instituted an assembly and a bowling-green in his parish, and often promoted the mirth of the company in person. His wit was ever poignant*, and always levelled at those who shewed any contempt for decency and religion. His epigram, spoken extempore upon Voltaire, is well known: Voltaire happening to ridicule Milton's allegorical personages of death and sin, Dr. Young thus addressed him :

Thou art so witty, profligate and thin,

Thou seem'st a Miiton with his death and sin.

As to his character as a poet, his composition was instinct in his youth, with as much vanity as was necessary to excel in that art. He published a collection of such of his works as he thought the best in 1761, in four volumes, duodecimo; and another was published since. Among these, his satires, intituled, "The Love of Fame," or, "The Universal Passion," are by most considered as his principal performance. They are finely characteristic of that excessive pride, or rather folly, of following prevailing passions, and aiming to be more than we really are, or can possibly be.

In his last illness, a friend of the Doctor's calling to know how he did, and mentioning the death of a person, who had been in a decline a long time, said he was quite worn to a shell, by the time he died; very likely, replied the Doctor, but What has become of the kernal.

They were written in early life, and, if smoothnes of stile, brilliancy of wit, and simplicity of subject, can ensure applause, our author may demand it on this occasion. After the death of his wife, as he had never given any attention to domestic affairs, so knowing his unfitness for it, he referred the whole care and management of his family to his house-keeper, to whom he left a handsome legacy.

It is observed by Dean Swift, that if Dr. Young, in his satires, had been more merry or severe, they would have been more generally pleasing; because mankind are more apt to be pleased with ill-nature, and mirth than with solid sense and instruction. It is also observed of his "Night Thoughts, that, though they are chiefly flights of thinking almost super-human, such as the description of death, from his secret stand, noting down the follies of a Bacchanalian Society, the epitaph upon the departed world, and the issuing of Satan from his dungeon; yet these, and a great number of other remarkable fine thoughts, are sometimes overcast with an air of gloominess and melancholy *, which have a disagreeable tendency, and must be unpleasing to a cheerful mind; however, it must be

The Night Thoughts undoubtedly have their defects, as well as beauties; but it is generally allowed the latter are far more numerous, and so remarkably striking and conspicuous to the discerning Reader, as, in his view, to eclipse the failings which otherwise might be discovered therein.

Dr. Young was convinced of the impropriety of writing the Night Thoughts in a stile so much above the understanding of common readers, and said to a frien 1, a week or two before he died, that was he to publish such another treatise (respecting subjects) it should be in less elevated language, and more suited to the capacities of all.