February, 1763, and was buried by the side of his brother, in the churchyard of Hales-Owen, under a plain flat stone, inscribed with his

name.

The character of Shenstone was very amiable. Dr Johnson, though he has not done justice to his talents or his writings, says of him, that "his life was unstained by any crime." The Elegy on Jessy,' which has been supposed to relate to an unfortunate criminal amour of his own, was known by his friends to have been suggested by the story of Miss Godfrey in Richardson's Pamela. Mr Dodsley says of Shenstone, that "tenderness, in every sense of the word, was his peculiar characteristic ; nis friends, his domestics, his poor neighbours, all daily experienced his benevolent turn of mind. Indeed this virtue in him was often carried to such excess that it sometimes bordered upon weakness: yet if he was convinced that any of those ranked among his friends had treated him ungenerously, he was not easily reconciled. He used a maxim, however, on such occasions, which is worthy of being observed and imitated: 'I never,' said he, 'will be a revengeful enemy; but I cannot, it is not my nature, to be half a friend.'"

In his person, Shenstone was above the middle stature, but largely and rather inelegantly formed; his face seemed plain, till you entered into conversation with him, and then it grew very pleasing. In his dress he was negligent, even to a fault; though when young, at the university, he was accounted a beau.

The whole of Shenstone's works have been printed in three volumes The last volume consists entirely of letters to his friends.

octavo.

Charles Churchill.

BORN A. D. 1731.-died a. D. 1764.

CHARLES CHURCHILL, a man who robbed himself of fair fame by misdirected talents, exerting the powers of a fertile and extraordinary genius on the fleeting politics of the day, and what is worse, in calumniating the good, and apologising for the licentious, was born in the parish of St John, Westminster, of which parish his father was curate, in the year 1731. He was educated at Westminster school, and subsequently admitted of Trinity college, Cambridge; but his residence at the university was only for a very short period. It has been stated that his deficiency in classical learning, at the age of nineteen, was so great as to cause his rejection on applying for matriculation at the sister university; but this is certainly a mistake. At matriculation there is no examination which could lead to a rejection in any case; and Churchill always exhibited fair talents while at school. The allegation may have originated in the circumstance of his standing for a fellowship at Merton college, when he wanted two or three years of the regular time for leaving school; and on which occasion, being opposed by candidates of superior age, he was not chosen.

An early and imprudent marriage was probably the cause of his abandoning the university. His conduct, however, continued irreproachable in other respects; and at the customary age he received deacon's orders from Dr Willis. In 1756 he was ordained priest by

Bishop Sherlock, and appears to have exercised with acceptance his clerical functions in the lectureship of St John's, rendered vacant by the death of his father. Under what circumstances he was first tempted to abandon the honourable path which now lay open before him is a matter of considerable obscurity; but we find him, in his 27th year, all at once starting forth as a poet and man of the town,-neglecting not only the duties of his office, but even despising and abandoning its decent and creditable appearance, haunting the purlieus of the theatres and other places of public amusement,-and selecting his companions from among the most dissolute and abandoned of mankind. About the year 1759 he wrote a poem, entitled 'The Bard,' which was rejected by the bookseller to whom he offered it. His next effort was The Conclave,' a satire levelled at the dean and chapter of Westminster, which his friends succeeded in persuading him to suppress. The Rosciad' was more

fortunate. Though refused the paltry sum of five guineas for the manuscript of this poem, he printed it at his own risk, when he had scarcely ready money enough to pay for the necessary advertisements. It was published anonymously in March, 1761, and its sale exceeded the most sanguine expectations of the author. The critical reviewers attacked

it bitterly, and Churchill, having now avowed himself the author, retorted with greater severity in The Apology.' In these publications the merits and characters of the different performers in the Drury-lane and Covent garden theatres were freely canvassed and discussed, with a poignancy of satire rendered doubly galling to its objects by the acuteness of the author's criticism, and the easy vigorous flow of his poetry. The success of these pieces, and the consciousness of power which he now possessed, imboldened Churchill to fling aside the last restraints of professional decency; Dr Pearce, the dean of Westminster, remonstrated; and the young curate, to put an end to the murmurings of his parishioners as well as ecclesiastical superiors, and relieve himself at once of all restrictions, resigned his lectureship, and assumed the dress and manners of a man of fashion. This step was followed by a separation from his wife, who survived him, however, and to whom he bequeathed an annuity of £60.

66

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We next find him associating with that political charlatan John Wilkes, at whose instigation he wrote The Prophecy of Famine,' a bitter and scurrilous satire directed against the Scottish nation. Of this poem, Wilkes declared before its appearance in January, 1763, that he was sure it would take, as it was at once personal, poetical, and political." It did take; its popularity exceeded that of 'The Rosciad ;' and its author obtained by it the unenviable distinction of being the first political satirist of the day. The Epistle to Hogarth,'- The Conference,' The Duellist,' The Author,'-Gotham,'- The Candidate,' '—'The Farewell,'-'The Times,' and 'Independence,' all followed each other in rapid succession. Some critics have pretended to discover indications of declining power in these pieces; the poet Cowper, a very competent judge it will be allowed, was of a different opinion,--" Churchill, the great Churchill," he says in one of his letters, "deserved the name of a poet. I have read him twice, and some of his pieces three times over, and the last time with more pleasure than the first. 'Gotham' is a noble and beautiful poem, and a poem with which I make no doubt the author took as much pains as with any he ever

wrote. Making allowance, and Dryden perhaps in his Absalom and Achitophel' stands in need of the same indulgence, for an unwarrantable use of scripture, it appears to me to be a masterly performance. Independence' is a most animated piece, full of strength and spirit, and marked with that bold masculine character which I think is the great peculiarity of this writer; and The Times,' except that the subject is disgusting to the last degree, stands equally high in my opinion.'

Towards the end of October, 1764, Churchill set out on a visit to Wilkes, then a voluntary exile in France. They met at Boulogne ; but Churchill, almost instantly on his arrival, was attacked by a miliary fever, which terminated his existence on the 4th of November, in the 34th year of his age. It is said his last words were, "What a fool have I been!" but Wilkes, who attended his dying friend, denied this. His body was brought from Boulogne to Dover, where it was interred in the churchyard of St Martin.

Churchill's poetry was by the necessity of its nature of ephemeral interest, a necessity, however, imposed upon it by the themes which the poet chose for his muse, and not by any lack of true poetical genius. “He is indeed," says the amiable Cowper, “a careless writer for the most part; but where shall we find in any of those authors, who finish their works with the exactness of a Flemish pencil, those bold and daring strokes of fancy, those numbers so hazardously ventured upon, and so happily finished, the matter so compressed and yet so clear, and the colouring so sparingly laid on, and yet with such a beautiful effect? In short, it is not the least praise that he is never guilty of those faults as a writer, which he lays to the charge of others. A proof that he did not charge from a borrowed standard, or from rules laid down by critics, but that he was qualified to do it by his own native powers, and his great superiority of genius. For he that wrote so much, and so fast, would, through inadvertence and hurry, unavoidably have departed from rules which he might have found in books; but his own truly poetical talent was a guide which would not suffer him to err. A race-horse is graceful in his swiftest pace, and never makes an awkward motion, though he is pushed to his utmost speed. A cart-horse might perhaps be taught to play tricks in the riding-school, and might prance and curvet like his betters; but at some unlucky time would be sure to betray the baseness of his original. It is an affair of very little consequence perhaps to the well-being of mankind, but I cannot help regretting that he died so soon. Those words of Virgil, upon the immature death of Marcellus, might serve for his epitaph:

'Ostendant terris hunc tantum fata, neque ultra

Esse sinent.'"

The following lines from Gotham' may afford the reader some idea of Churchill's style :

"How much do they mistake, how little know

Of kings, of kingdoms, and the pains which flow
From royalty, who fancy that a crown,
Because it glistens, must be lin'd with down.
With outside show, and vain appearance caught,
They look no farther, and, by Folly taught,
Prize high the toys of thrones, but never find
One of the many cares which lurk behind.

The gem they worship, which a crown adorns.
Nor once suspect that crown is lined with thorns.

O might Reflection Folly's place supply,

Would we one moment use her piercing eye,

Then should we learn what woe from grandeur springs,
And learn to pity, not to envy, kings.

The villager, born humbly and bred hard,
Content his wealth, and poverty his guard,
In action simply just, in conscience clear,
By guilt untainted, undisturb'd by fear,
His means but scanty, and his wants but few,
Labour his business and his pleasure too,
Enjoys more comforts in a single hour,

Than ages give the wretch condemn'd to power.
Call'd up by health he rises with the day,
And goes to work, as if he went to play,
Whistling off toils, one half of which might make
The stoutest ATLAS of a palace quake;

'Gainst heat and cold, which makes us cowards faint,
Harden'd by constant use, without complaint,
He bears, what we should think it death to bear;
Short are his meals. and homely is his fare;
His thirst he slakes at some pure neighb'ring brook,
Nor asks for sauce, where appetite stands cook.
When the dews fall, and when the sun retires
Behind the mountains, when the village-fires,
Which, waken'd all at once, speak supper nigh,
At distance catch, and fix his longing eye,
Homeward he hies, and, with his manly brood
Of raw-boned cubs, enjoys that clean, coarse food,
Which, season'd with good humour, his fond bride
'Gainst his return is happy to provide.

Then, free from care, and free from thought, he creeps
Into his straw, and till the morning sleeps.

Not so the king-with anxious care oppress'd,

His bosom labours, and admits not rest.

A glorious wretch, he sweats beneath the weight

Of majesty, and gives up ease for state.

E'en when he smiles, which, by the fools of pride,
Are treasured and preserved, from side to side
Fly round the court; e'en when, compell'd by form,
He seems most calm, his soul is in a storm!

CARE, like a spectre, seen by him alone,
With all her nest of vipers, round his throne

By day crawls full in view; when Night bids sleep,
Sweet nurse of Nature, o'er the senses creep,
When Misery herself no more complains,

And slaves, if possible, forget their chains,

Though his sense weakens, though his eyes grow dim, That rest, which comes to all, comes not to him.

E'en at that hour, CARE, tyrant CARE, forbids

The dew of sleep to fall upon his lids;

From night to night she watches at his bed;

Now, as one mop'd, sits brooding o'er his head,

Anon she starts, and, borne on raven's wings,

Croaks forth aloud-Sleep was not made for kings."

Robert Dodsley.

BORN A. D. 1703.-DIED A. D. 1764.

ROBERT DODSLEY was born at Mansfield in Nottinghamshire in the year 1703. Although his father is said to have been master of the freeschool at Mansfield, yet neither the subject of our memoir, nor any other members of the family appear to have entered life with prospects beyond servitude. One was a servant, the other a gardener, and of Robert it is traditionally recorded in his native place, that having been entered apprentice to a stocking weaver, want and hardship compelled him to run away, and become footman to a lady. It is however satisfactorily ascertained that he was once footman to Mr Charles Dartineuf, paymaster of the works, a gentleman who had made himself so illustrious for gluttony in general, and his achievements over ham-pies in particular, as to attract the muse of Pope. In the same capacity, degrading to an enlightened mind, and not easily occupied by such a person without a tinge of moral corruption, he entered the family of Miss Lowther. That lady appears to have been gifted with the singular disposi tion of perceiving good qualities even in a menial; she praised Dodsley's attempts at rhyme, showed them to her visitors, and encouraged him to publish a volume of fugitive pieces, by assisting in procuring a liberal subscription. This collection he modestly termed 'The Muse in Livery,' and it was accompanied by an engraved frontispiece, emblematic of the mind attempting to escape from the 'misery, folly, and ignorance' to which the body is chained by poverty,-showing that he was not ashamed of what poverty had compelled him to accept, while he earnestly sought relief, and was not servile in his heart. His next attempt, The Toyshop,' a theatrical satire, was written under the same circumstances, and is allowed to be a work of real genius, displaying an insight into character, which, if often possessed by the liveried portion of the community, might make the higher classes very uncomfortable. With the confidence of real talent, he was not afraid to court the most acute scrutiny to his new piece, and he accordingly wrote to Pope a letter full of modest doubts of his own claims to notice, requesting that great man to peruse the manuscript. Pope did peruse the manuscript, and in a letter dated February 5th, 1733, said in answer, "I was very willing to read your piece, and do freely tell you, I like it, as far as my particular judgment goes. Whether it has action enough to please the stage, I doubt; but the morality and satire ought to be relished by the reader. I will do more than you ask me, I will recommend it to Mr Rich. If he can join it to any play, with suitable representations, to make it an entertainment, I believe he will give you a benefit night: and I sincerely wish it may be turned any way to your advantage, or that I could show you my friendship in any instance." The return for these two works must have been watched by Dodsley with a still more anxious eye than authors in general direct towards the public opinion in their works, the profits were, if sufficient, to be used for the purpose of relieving him from servitude; and being found ample enough, he was enabled to fulfil his intention.