Every art is best taught by example. Nothing con- ease. I wish our poets would attend a little more accu tributes more to the cultivation of propriety, than re-rately to the use of the word sacred, which surely should marks on the works of those who have most excelled. never be applied in a serious composition, but where J shall therefore endeavour, at this visit, to entertain the some reference may be made to a higher Being, or where young students in poetry with an examination of Pope's some duty is exacted or implied. A man may keep his Epitaphs. 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. To define an Epitaph is useless; every one knows that it is an inscription on a Tomb. An epitaph, therefore, implies no particular character of writing, 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. 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 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 shew'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 in 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 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, thongh knaves is a word rather too ludicrous and light; but the mention of sanctified pride will not lead the thoughts to fops in learning, but rather to some species of tyranny or oppression, something more gloomy and more formidable than foppery. Yet soft his nature This is a high compliment, but was not first bestowed on Dorset by Pope. The next verse is extremely beautiful. Blest satirist! ON SIR WILLIAM TRUMBAL, One of the principal Secretaries of State to King Wil liam III, who, having resigned his place, died in retirement at Easthampstead in Berkshire, 1716. A pleasing form; a firni, yet cautious mind; Such this man was; who now, from earth removed, In this epitaph, as in many others, there appears, at the first view, a fault which I think scarcely any beauty epitaph is to convey some account of the dead; and to can compensate. The name is omitted. The end of an concealed? An epitaph, and a history of a nameless hero, what purpose is any thing told of him whose name is are equally absurd, since the virtues and qualities so recounted in either are scattered at the mercy of fortune to be appropriated by guess. The name, it is true, may be 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 forced, like an unskilful painter, to make his purpose known by adventitious help? This epitaph is wholly without elevation, and contains nothing striking or particular; but the poet is not to be blamed for the defects of his subject. He said perhaps the best that could be said. There 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 In this distich is another line of which Pope was not condition of the man described. Had the epitaph been connexion with the foregoing character, nor with the the author. I do not mean to blame these imitations written on the poor conspirator who died lately in priwith much harshness; in long performances they are son, after a confinement of more than forty years, withscarcely to be avoided; and in shorter they may be in-out any crime proved against him, the sentiment had dulged, because the train of the composition, may natu- been just and pathetical? but why should Trumbal be rally involve them, or the scantiness of the subject allow congratulated upon his liberty, who had never known little choice. However, what is borrowed is not to be restraint? enjoyed as our own; and it is the business of critical justice to give every bird of the Muses his proper feather. Blest courtier ! Whether a courtier can properly be commended for keeping his ease sacred, may perhaps be disputable. 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 ON THE HON. SIMON HARCOURT, Only Son of the Lord Chancellor Harcourt, at the Church of Stanton-Harcourt, in Oxfordshire, 1720 To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near, Here lies the friend most loved, the son most dear; Major Bernardi, who died in Newgate, Sept. 20, 1736 Who ne'er knew joy, but friendship might divide, How vain is reason, eloquence how weak! This epitaph is principally remarkable for the artful introduction of the name, which is inserted with a pecu. liar felicity, to which chance must concur with genius, which no man can hope to attain 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. ON JAMES CRAGGS, ESQ. In Westminster Abbey. JACOBUS CRAGGS, REGI MAGNE BRITANNIE A SECRETIS PRINCIPIS PARITER AC POPULI AMOR ET DELICIA OR. FEB. XVI. MDCCXX. Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere The lines on Craggs were not originally intended for an epitaph; and therefore some faults are to be imputed 10 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. There seems to be an opposition intended in the fourth line, which is not very obvious: where is 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, no reason can be given why part of the information should be given in one tongue, and part in another, on a tomb, more than in any other place, or on any other occasion; and to tell all that can be conveniently told in verse, and then to call in the help of prose, has always the appearance of a very artless expedient, or of an attempt unaccomplished. Such an epitaph resembles the conversation of a foreigner, who tells part of his meaning by words, and conveys 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 belongs less to Rowe, for whom it was written, than to Dryden, who was buried near him; and indeed gives very little information concerning either. To wish Peace to thy shade is too mythological to be admitted into a Christian temple: the ancient 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.❤ Here rests a woman, good without pretence, So firm, yet soft, so strong, yet so refined, I have always considered this as the most valuable of all Pope's epitaphs; the subject of it is a character not discriminated by any shining or eminent peculiarities; yet that which really makes, though not the splendour, the felicity of life, and that which every wise man I will choose for his final, and lasting companion in the langour of age, in the quiet of privacy, when he departs weary and disgusted from the ostenatious, 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 common-places, 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 incredi ble 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 Go fair example of untainted youth, And thou, blest maid! attendant on his doom Yet take these tears; mortality's relief, 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 poe try; and whenever friendship, or any other motive, In the North aisle of the parish church of St. Margaret, Westminster obliges a poet to write on such subjects, he must be forgiven if he sometimes wanders in generalities, and utters the same praises over different tombs. 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 an 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 applicable to the honours or lays; and the fourth is not only borrowed from the epitaph on Raphael, but of a very harsh construction. 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. 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 esteen; there is yet something of the common cant of superficial satirists, who suppose that the insincerity of a courtier destroys all his sensations, and that he is equally a dissembler to the 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. This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, 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 The first couplet of this epitaph is borrowed from Crashaw. The four next lines contain a species of praise peculiar, original, and just. Here, therefore, the insciption should have ended, the latter part containing nothing but what is common to every man who is wise and good. The character of Fenton was so amiable that I cannot forbear to wish for some poet or biographer to display it more fully for the advantage of posterity. If he 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; With native humour tempering virtuous rage, 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 for a poet. The wit of man, and the simplicity of 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 peculi. arity 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 general lamentation does no honour to Gay. The first eight lines have no grammar; the adjectives are without any substantives and the epithets without a subject. The thought in the last line, that Gay is buried in the bosoms of the worthy and the good, who are distinguish. ed only to lengthen the line, is so dark that few understand it; and so harsh, when it is explained, that still fewer approve. INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON In Westminster Abbey. ISAACUS NEWTONIUS: Testantus, Tempus, Natur, Colum: 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, Who died in the 19th Year of his Age, 1735. If modest youth, with cool reflection crown'd, This epitaph Mr. Warburton prefers to the rest; but I know not for what reason. To crown with reflection, is surely a mode of speech approaching to nonsense, Opening virtues blooming round, is something like tautology: the six following lines are poor and prosaic. Art is in another couplet used for arts, that a rhyme may be had to heart. 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 suppress. ed 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, When a man is once buried, the question, under what he is buried, is easily decided. He forgot, that though he wrote the epitaph in a state of uncertainty, yet it could not be laid over him till his grave was made. Such is the folly of wit when it is ill employed. The world has but little new; even this wretchedness seems to have been borrowed from the following tuneless lines; Ludovici Areosti humantur ossa Sub hoc marmore, vel sub hac humo, Nam scire haud potuit futura, sed nec Surely Ariosto did not venture to expect that his trifle would have ever had such an illustrious imitator. |