Edward Young

“ Sir Herbert Croft wrote the life included in Johnson's Lives of the Poets, but the critical remarks are by Johnson. For Young's influence on foreign literature see Joseph Texte, Jean Jacques Rousseau, A Study of the Literary Relations between France and England during the Eighteenth Century (Eng. trans., 1889) , pp. 304–14; and J. Barnstoff, Young’s Nachtgedanken und ihr Einfluss auf die deutsche Litteratur (1895) . See also W. Thomas, Le Poète Edward Young (Paris, 1901) , who gives an exhaustive study of Young’s life and work. ”

“ Young was unquestionably a neglected man. Out of all sight the greatest genius then connected with the ministry of the Church of England, he never mounted one step higher than the rectorship his own college had conferred on him. Many reasons have been assigned for this. Some say that it was because he had attached himself to the side of Frederick, Prince of Wales, and had preached an obnoxious sermon at St James’s; others, that it was because he had received a pension through Sir Robert Walpole. ”

“ Here again Edwin suspected them. It rather looked as if they had “taken up” his mother; and nobody on earth had the right to do that. He hated the Willises (and particularly Edward) in advance. He always hated people he hadn’t met when he heard too much about them. He thought that the new intimacy probably had something to do with his Aunt Laura, who was diffuse and fussy p. 77and ornate, and not a patch on his mother. Nobody was a patch on his mother . . .
He couldn’t get rid of his anxiety, and so, in the heat of the moment, before morning school, he answered her letter. ”

“ After visiting Durham, and settling the affairs of the north, the young king turned his face toward London.
From the day on which Edward rode out of Bishopgate until Easter, the citizens had been in fearful suspense. At length a messenger reached Baynard's Castle to inform the Duchess of York that the Lancastrians had been routed; and, when the news spread, the metropolis was the scene of [Pg 144] joy and rejoicing. Men of all ranks breathed freely, and thanked God for giving King Edward the victory ”

“ Young Edward, now in his twentieth year, was of a temper well fitted to make his way through such a scene of war, havoc, and devastation, as must conduct him to the full possession of that crown, which he claimed from hereditary right, but which he had assumed from the tumultuary election alone of his own party. He was bold, active, enterprising; and his hardness of heart and severity of character rendered him impregnable to all those movements of compassion which might relax his vigor in the prosecution of the most bloody revenges upon his enemies. ”

“ I’m proud to say we aren’t. We shouldn’t be English if we were. But one thing, sir, you’ll see in the end, and that is that dogged British pluck will come through. You mark my words.”
Edwin felt an overpowering impulse to say that dogged British pluck pretty obviously hadn’t come through at Colenso; but Edward Willis’s presence made him far too self-conscious to commit himself, and at the next station the traveller and his friend picked up their bags and departed, breathing the word “Buller” as if it were an incantation warranted to fortify and console. Edwin and Willis were alone. ”

“ Edmund was dead, but his sister Anne had married a son of the Duke of York, youngest son of Edward III.; and her son Richard, Duke of York, could not help feeling that he had a much better right to be king than any Beaufort. There was a great English noble named Richard Nevil, Earl of Warwick, who liked to manage everything—just the sort of baron that was always mischievous at home, if not fighting in France—and he took up York's cause hotly. York's friends used to wear white roses, Beaufort's friends red roses, and the two parties kept on getting more bitter ”

“ Then, when York found it was of no use to wait, he began to make war, backed up by Warwick, and, after much fighting, they made the king prisoner, and forced him to make an agreement that he should reign as long as he lived, but that after that Richard of York should be king, and his son Edward be only Duke of Lancaster. This made the queen furiously angry. She would not give up her son's rights, and she gathered a great army, with which she came suddenly on the Duke of York near Wakefield, and destroyed nearly his whole army. He was killed in the battle ”

“ Indeed, the barons threatened to cut off Richard's head if Edward went on fighting with them; and to save his uncle's life, he too, gave himself up to them.
Simon de Montfort now governed all the kingdom. He still called Henry king, but did not let him do anything, and watched him closely that he might not get away; and Edward was kept a prisoner—first in one castle, then in another. Simon was a good and high-minded man himself, who only wanted to do what was best for everyone ”

“ Edward had to flee for his life to Flanders, leaving his wife and his babies to take shelter in Westminster Abbey—since no one durst take any one out of that holy place—and poor Henry was taken out of prison and set on the throne again. However, Edward soon got help in Flanders, where his sister was married to the Duke of Burgundy. He came back again, gathered his friends, and sent messages to his brother Clarence that he would forgive him if he would desert the earl. No one ever had less faith or honor than George of Clarence. ”

“ He lived much in retirement, though in his later years he received a public appointment.
His major works are The Last Day (1713) and The Force [263] of Religion (1714) , which are moralizings written in the heroic couplet; The Love of Fame (1724) , which shows an advance in the use of the couplet; and a poem in blank verse, The Complaint, or Night Thoughts (1742) . This last poem, which was inspired by the death of his wife, had a great and long-enduring popularity, which has now vanished. Like Young’s other poems, it shows some power of expression and somber satisfaction at his own misery. ”

“ The next morning the children were all up early, and Edward went out with his cousins to see William's rabbits. He was delighted with the beautiful little animals, and asked a great many questions about them, which William kindly answered. He admired them so much that he could hardly be persuaded to leave them, till Ann told him he would not be as obedient as the young rabbits were, if he did not go in at once, for her mother had twice called them to go in and get their breakfasts. ”

“ He had never tried to gain her love, and she hated him more and more. There was some danger of a quarrel with her brother, the King of France, and she offered to go with her son Edward, now about fourteen, and settle it. But this was only an excuse. She went about to the princes abroad, telling them how ill she was used by her husband, and asking for help. A good many knights believed and pitied her, and came with her to England to help. All the English who hated the Le Despencers joined her, and she led the young prince against his father. Edward and his friends were hunted across into Wales ”

“ And by my pangs omnipotence proclaim?
"Thou, who canst toss the planets to and fro,
Contract not thy great vengeance to my woe;
Crush worlds; in hotter flames fall'n angels lay;
On me Almighty wrath is cast away.
Call back thy thunders, Lord, hold in thy rage,
Nor with a speck of wretchedness engage:
Forget me quite, nor stoop a worm to blame;
But lose me in the greatness of thy name.
Thou art all love, all mercy, all divine,
And shall I make these glories cease to shine?
Shall sinful man grow great by his offence,
And from its course turn back Omnipotence? ”

“ And, thro' th' unclouded crystal of thine eye,
The heavenly treasures of thy mind to spy!
Till rapture reason happily destroys,
And my soul wanders through immortal joys!
Give me the world, and ask me, where's my bliss?
I clasp thee to my breast, and answer, this.
And shall the grave"—He groans, and can no more;
But all her charms in silence traces o'er;
Her lip, her cheek, and eye, to wonder wrought;
And, wond'ring, sees, in sad presaging thought,
From that fair neck, that world of beauty fall,
And roll along the dust, a ghastly ball!
Oh! let those tremble, who are greatly bless'd! ”

“ Were death denied, poor man would live in vain;
Were death denied, to live would not be life;
Were death denied, even fools would wish to die.
Death wounds to cure: we fall; we rise; we reign!
Spring from our fetters; fasten in the skies ”

“ Darkness the curtain drops o’er life’s dull scene;
’Tis the kind hand of Providence stretch’d out
’Twixt man and vanity; ’tis reason’s reign,
And virtue’s too; these tutelary shades
Are man’s asylum from the tainted throng.
Night is the good man’s friend, and guardian too;
It no less rescues virtue, than inspires. ”

“ Of praise, by inch of candle to be sold:
All men they flatter, but themselves the most,
With deathless fame, their everlasting boast:
For fame no cully makes so much her jest,
As her old constant spark, the bard profest.
"Boyle shines in council, Mordaunt in the fight,
Pelham's magnificent; but I can write,
And what to my great soul like glory dear?"
Till some god whispers in his tingling ear,
That fame's unwholesome taken without meat.
And life is best sustain'd by what is eat:
Grown lean, and wise, he curses what he writ,
And wishes all his wants were in his wit. ”

“ And, what may move Lorenzo’s wonder more, 660
Eternity is written in the skies. 661
And whose eternity?—Lorenzo! thine
Mankind’s eternity. Nor Faith alone,
Virtue grows here; here springs the sovereign cure
Of almost every vice; but chiefly thine;
Wrath, Pride, Ambition, and impure Desire.
Lorenzo! thou canst wake at midnight too,
Though not on morals bent: Ambition, Pleasure! ”

“ And burn to give mankind a single lord.
The follies past are of a private kind;
Their sphere is small; their mischief is confin'd:
But daring men there are (Awake, my muse,
And raise thy verse!) who bolder frenzy choose;
Who stung by glory, rave, and bound away;
The world their field, and humankind their prey.
The Grecian chief, th' enthusiast of his pride,
With rage and terror stalking by his side,
Raves round the globe; he soars into a god!
Stand fast, Olympus! and sustain his nod.
The pest divine in horrid grandeur reigns,
And thrives on mankind's miseries and pains,
What slaughter'd hosts! ”

“ My muse descend: indulge my fond desire;
With softer thoughts my melting soul inspire,
And smooth my numbers to a female's praise:
A partial world will listen to my lays,
While Anna reigns, and sets a female name
Unrival'd in the glorious lists of fame.
Hear, ye fair daughters of this happy land,
Whose radiant eyes the vanquish'd world command,
Virtue is beauty: but when charms of mind
With elegance of outward form are join'd;
When youth makes such bright objects still more bright,
And fortune sets them in the strongest light ”

“ Shall you, and I, in love with life,
life's future schemes contrive,
The world in wonder not unjust,
that we are still alive?
What have we left? How mean in man
a shadow's shade to crave?
When life, so vain! ”

“ Fame is a public mistress, none enjoys,
But, more or less, his rival's peace destroys;
With fame, in just proportion, envy grows;
The man that makes a character, makes foes:
Slight, peevish insects round a genius rise,
As a bright day awakes the world of flies ”

“ Of indispensable, eternal fruit;
Fruit, on which mortals feeding, turn to gods:
And dive in science for distinguish’d names,
Dishonest fomentation of your pride!
Sinking in virtue, as you rise in fame. ”

“ Love, passionate young Love, how sweet it is
To have the bosom made a paradise
By thee, life lighted by thy rainbow smile!—
Edward lived in one feeling, one that made ”

“ Who would not think that being innocent? Where shall I strike? who strikes her, strikes himself. My own life-blood will issue at her wound. But see, she smiles! I never shall smile more; It strongly tempts me to a parting kiss. ”

“ Is that my hope, then?—Sure, the sacred dust Of her that bore me trembles in its urn. Is it in man the sore distress to bear, When hope itself is blacken'd to despair? When all the bliss I pant for, is to gain In hell, a refuge from severer pain? ”

“ And give his soul her full unbounded flight,
But reaching Him, who gave her wings to fly.
When blind Ambition quite mistakes her road,
And downwards pores, for that which shines above,
Substantial happiness, and true renown;
Then, like an idiot, gazing on the brook,
We leap at stars, and fasten in the mud;
At glory grasp, and sink in infamy.
Ambition! powerful source of good and ill!
Thy strength in man, like length of wing in birds, 400
When disengaged from earth, with greater ease,
And swifter flight, transports us to the skies;
By toys entangled, or in guilt bemired,
It turns a curse ”

“ Following out this fine thought, we see Atheism looking up with impudent eye, brazen brow, and naked figure, to the midnight sky, as if it were only a huge toy-shop of glittering gew-gaws; Superstition shrouding herself in a black mantle, and falling down prostrate and trembling before these innumerable fires, as if they were the eyes of an infinite enemy; while Religion turns aloft her humble, yet fearless form, her tear-trembling yet radiant visage, and murmurs, “My Father made them all.” ”

“ And, arm'd with pious fortitude,
death, dreaded once, desire:
Grand climacteric vanities
the vainest will despise;
Shock'd, when beneath the snow of age,
man immaturely dies:
But am not I myself the man? ”

“ The Gallic shore to distant Britain grows,
For Lewis Thames, the Seine for Anna flows:
From conflicts pass'd each other's worth we find,
And thence in stricter friendship now are join'd;
Each wound receiv'd, now pleads the cause of love,
And former injuries endearments prove.
What Briton but must prize th' illustrious sword,
That cause of fear to Churchill could afford?
Who sworn to Bourbon's sceptre, but must frame
Vast thoughts of him, that could brave Tallard tame?
Thus generous hatred in affection ends,
And war, which rais'd the foes, completes the friends. ”