which really makes, though not the splendor, the felicity of life, and that which every wife man will choose for his final and lafting companion in the languor of age, in the quiet of privacy, when he departs weary and disgusted from the oftentatious, the volatile, and the vain. Of fuch a character, which the 'dull overlook, and the gay despise, it was fit that the value should be made known, and the dignity established. Domestick virtue, as it is exerted without great occafions, or confpicuous confequences, 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 verfe's? If the particular lines of this infcription be examined, it will appear lefs faulty than the reft. There is fcarce one line taken from common places, unless it be that in which only Virtue is faid 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 panegyrick. Of this let the Ladies judge. VOL. IV. e VII. VII. On the Monument of the Hon. ROBERT DIGBY, and of his Sifter MARY, erected by their Father the Lord DIGBY, in the Church of Sherborne in Dorsetshire, 1727. Go! fair example of untainted youth, Lover of peace, and friend of human kind: 、 And thou, bleft maid! attendant on his doom, Penfive haft follow'd to the filent tomb, Steer'd the fame course to the fame quiet fhore, Not parted long, and now to part no more! Go, then, where only blifs fincere is known! Go, where to love and to enjoy are one! Yet take these tears, Mortality's relief, This epitaph contains of the brother only a general indiscriminate character, and of the fifter tells nothing but that he died. The difficulty in writing epitaphs is to give a particular and appropriate praife. 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 faid of them which may not be applied with equal propriety to a thousand more. It is indeed no great panegyrick, that there is inclofed in this tomb one who was born in one year, and died in another; yet many useful and amiable lives have been spent, which yet 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 fuch fubjects, he must be forgiven if he fometimes wanders in generalities, and utters the fame praifes over different tombs. The scantinefs of human praises can scarcely be made more apparent, than by remarking how often Pope has, in the few epitaphs which he compofed, found it neceffary to borrow from himfelf. The fourteen epitaphs, which he has written, comprise about an hundred and forty lines, in which there are more repetitions than will eafily be found in all the reft 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 conclufion is the fame with that on Harcourt, but is here more elegant and better connected. VIII. On Sir GODFREY KNELLER. Kneller, by heaven, and not a master taught, Whose art was nature, and whose pictures thought; Now for two ages, having fnatch'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 the lays, and the fourth is not only borrowed from the epitaph on Raphael, but of very harsh conftruction. IX. On General HENRY WITHERS. Here, Withers, reft! thou bravest, gentleft mind, For thee the hardy veteran drops a tear, Withers, adieu! yet not with thee remove |