Life is a jest, and all things show it; I thought fo once, but now I know it. He found, however, in the delightful retirement of Amesbury, many intervals of ease and cheerfulness, which enabled him to finish the Opera of Achilles; and coming with the family to their houfe in Burlington Gardens, to pafs the winter feafon, he gave it to the theatre; and the week after, was suddenly seized with a violent inflammatory fever, which ending in a mortification of his bowels, put a period to his life, December 4th, 1732, in the 54th year of his age. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, where his noble patrons erected a handsome monument to his memory; and Pope, agreeable to his dying requeft, gave him an epitaph, written with fondness and respect, but apparently with more esteem of his worth than veneration for his talents. Then follows this infcription: Charles and Catherine, Duke and Duchefs of Queensberry, who loved this excellent man living, and regret him dead, have caused this monument to be erected to his memory. The Opera of Achilles was acted foon after his death, and the profits were given to two widow fifters, Mrs. Ballet and Mrs. Fortefcue, who, as heirs at law, shared his fortune, amounting to 3cool., between them. ' In 1738, was published a fecond volume of his Fables, more grave, and more political than the former. There have appeared likewife under his name, The Diftreft Wife, a Comedy, first printed in 1743, and acted at Covent-Garden in 1772, and a humorous piece, called The Rehearsal at Goibam. His Poems on Several Occafions, were printed in 2 vols. 12mo, 1737. Two additional volumes; profeffing to be The Mifcellaneous Works of Mr. John Gay, were printed in 12mo, 1773; in which a fraud of fingular importance to his reputation has been attempted. The Elegiac Epifle to a Friend," "A Ballad on Ale," "Story of Cephifa," "Gondibert, Cantos 7, 8, 9," Mountain's Answer to the Liliputian verfes," need no comment. The impofition is undeniable. The poem on Wine first printed in 1710, is inferted on the authority of Hill. "The Man "He was a The character of Gay feems to have been very amiable. He was of an affable, sweet difpofition, generous in his temper, and pleasant in his converfation. He was univerfally beloved, and efteemed as a foft and civil companion. His chief fault was an exceffive indolence, without the leaft knowledge of economy, which often fubjected him to pecuniary difficulties. natural man," fays Spence in Pope's words, "without defign, who spoke what he thought, and just as he thought it; he was of timid temper, and fearful of giving offence to the great; which caution however, was of no avail.” In the "Dunciad," he says, with juft indignation, Gay dies unpenfion'd with a hundred friends; And, in the "Epiftle to Arbuthnot," he has this tender and indignant apoftrophe→→→ Of all thy blameless life the fole return, My verfe, and Queenfb'ry weeping o'er thy urn! As a poet, he is characterised by variety, fprightliness, cafe, and elegance. His compofitions, though original in fome parts, are not of the highest kind. They are, in general, more diftinguished by vivacity, penetration, good fenfe, and perfpicuity of expreffion, than by fublimity, tenderness, imagination, and strength or harmony of numbers. His Paftorals, Fables, and Beggar's Opera, are the chief foundation of his fame. His paftorals feem to have the highest finishing. They are perfectly Doric. The rural fimplicity neglected by Pope, and admired in Philips, appears in its true guife in the Shepherd's Week; "There only nature is feen exactly fuch as the country affordeth, and the manner meetly copied from the ruftical folk therein." His Fables have obtained more popularity. They are the favourites of the nursery and of the school, and the delight of perfons of every rank and of every age. The verfification is polished, the apologues, in general, are correct; they poffefs originality, wit, and humour; and to these is superadded, a confierable portion of poetical fpirit. He is fometimes, however, deficient in that quality, and in the harmony of his numbers; but he is, upon the whole, the most agreeable metrical fabulist in our language. The merits of the Beggar's Opera are univerfally acknowledged. "We owe to Gay," fays Dr. Johnson, “the Eallad Opera : mode of Comedy, which at first was fuppofed to delight only by its novelty; but has now, by the experience of half a century, been found so well accommodated to the disposition of a popular audience, that it is likely to keep long poffeffion of the stage: Whether this new drama was the product of judgment or of luck, the praise of it must be given to the inventor; and there are many writers read with more reverence, to whom fuch merit of originality cannot be attributed."! Of his Tales, Epifiles, Eclogues, Songs, &c. it would be fuperfluous to enumerate the brighter paffa. ges. Many of thefe little compofitions are favourites with the public. His Tales and Eclogues unite a confiderable portion of the grace and ease of Prior, with the humour of Swift; but they are not remarkable for the beauty of their images, or the harmony of their numbers. His Paftoral Tragedy of Dione is claffical and elegant; but will not greatly entertain without the proper embellishments, acting and mufic. His Contemplation on Night, and Thoughts on Eternity, merit the highest praife. His Sweet William's Farewell, is one of the most popular ballads in the English language. The estimate of his poetical character, as given by Dr. Johnson, is, in fome instances, too fevere to be approved by readers uncorrupted by literary prejudices. "As a poet, he cannot be rated very high. He was, as I once heard a female critic remark," of lower order." He had not, in any great degree, the mens diuinior, the dignity of genius. His first performance, the Rural Sports, is fuch as was easily planned and executed : it is never contemptible, nor ever excellent. The Fan is one of thofe mythological fictions which antiquity delivers ready to the hand, but which, like other things that lie open to every one's ufe, are of little value. His Fables feem to have been a favourite work. Of this kind of fables he does not appear to have formed any diftinct or fettled notion. For a Fable he gives now and then a Tale, or an abstracted Allegory; and from fome, by whatever name they are called, it will be difficult to extract any moral principle. They are, however, told with livelinefs; the verfification is smooth, and the diction, though now and then a little contrained by the measure or the rhyme, is generally happy, Te Trivia may be allowed all that it claims: it is fprightly, various, and pleafant. The fubject is of that kind which Gay was, by nature, qualified to adorn; yet fome of his decorations may be juftiy wifhed away. The appearance of Cloating is naufeous and fuperfluous. Dione, is a counterpart to Amynta" and "Paftor Fido," and other trifles of the fame kind, cafily imitated, and unworthy of imitation. What the Italians call Comedies, from a happy conclufion, Gay calls a Tragedy, from a mournful event; but the flyle of the Italians and of Gay is equally tragical. "Of his little poems the public judgment feems to be right; they are neither much efteemed, nor totally despised. The Story of the pparition is borrowed from one of the tales of Poggio. Those that please leaft, are the pieces to which Culliver gave occafion; for who can much delig CANTO I. You, who the fweets of rural life have known, To hear the Syrens warble in thy fong. But I, who ne'er was bleft by fortune's hand, Nor brighten'd ploughfhares in paternal land, Long in the noify town have been immur'd,, Refpir'd its smoke, and all its cares endur'd, Where news and politics divide mankind, And schemes of state involve th' uneafy mind; Faction embroils the world; and every tongue Is mov'd by flattery, or with scandal hung: Friendship, for fylvan fhades, the palace flies, Where all must yield to interest's dearer ties, Each rival Machiavel with envy burns, And honefty forsakes them all by turns; While calumny upon each party's thrown, Which both promote, and both alike disown. Fatigu'd at laft, a calm retreat I chose, And footh'd my harass'd mind with fweet repofe, Where fields and fhades, and the refreshing clime, Infpire the fylvan fong, and prompt my rhyme. Mymufehall rove throughflowery meads andplains, And deck with Rural Sports her native strains; And the fame road ambitiously pursue, Frequented by the Mantuan fwain and you. 'F'is not that rural fports alone invite, But all the grateful country breathes delight; * This poem received many material corrections from the auiber after it was firfi publifted. Here blooming hea It exerts her gentle reign, When the fresh spring in all her state is crown'd Now when the height of heaven bright Phoebus And level rays cleave wide the thirsty plains, When heifers feek the fhade and cooling lake, And in the middle path-way basks the fnake; O lead me, guard me from the fultry hours, Hide me, ye forests, in your closest bowers, Where the tall oak his fpreading arms entwines, And with the beech a mutual shade combines ; Where flows the murmuring brook, inviting dreams, Where bordering hazel overhangs the streams, Whofe rolling current, winding round and round, With frequent falls makes all the wood refound; Upon the moffy couch my limbs I caft, And e'en at noon the sweets of evening tafte. Here I perute the Mantuan's Georgic strains, And learn the labours of Italian fwains; In every page I fee new landscapes rife, And all Hefperia opens to my eyes; wander o'er the various rural toil, And know the nature of each different foil: This waving field is gilded o'er with corn, That fpreading trees with blufhing fruit adorn : Here I furvey the purple vintage grow, Clinib round the poles, and rife in graceful row: Now I behold the fteed curvet and bound, And paw with restless hoof the smoking ground: The dew-lap'd bull now chafes along the plain, While burning love ferments in every vein; His well-arni'd front against his rival aims, And by the dint of war his mistress claims: The careful infect 'midst his works I view, Now from the flowers exhauft the fragant dew; With golden treasures load his little thighs, And steer his diftant journey through the skies; Some against hoftile drones the hive defend, Others with fweets the waxen cells diftend; Each in the toil his deftin'd office bears, And in the little bulk a mighty foul appears. When floating clouds their spongy fleeces drain, He fits him down, and ties the treacherous book; Far up the fiream the twifted hair he throws, He greedily fucks in the twining bait, Or when the ploughman leaves the task of And trudging homeward whiftles on the way; When the big-udder'd cows with patience ftand, Waiting the froakings of the damfel's hand; No warbling cheers the woods; the feather'd choir To court kind flumbers, to the sprays retire; When no rude gale difturbs the fleeping trees, Nor afpen leaves confefs the gentleft breeze; Engag'd in thought, to Neptune's bounds I ftray, To take my farewell of the parting day; Far in the deep the fun his glory hides, A freak of gold the fea and fky divides: The purple clouds their amber linings fhow, And edg'd with flame rolls every wave below: Here penfive I behold the fading light, And o'er the diflant billow lofe my fight. Now night in filent ftate begins to rife, My foul fhould overflow in fongs of praife, You must not every worm promiscuous use, Judgment will tell the proper bait to choose : The worm that draws a long immoderate size, The trout abhors, and the rank morfel flies; And, if too finall, the naked fraud's in fight, And fear forbids, while hanger does invite. Thofe baits will beft reward the fisher's pains, Whofe polish'd tails a fhining yellow stains: Cleanfe them from filth, to give a tempting glofs, Cherifh the fully'd reptile race with mofs; Amid the verdant bed they twine, they toil, And from their bedies wipe their native foil. But when the fun difplays his gracious beams, And fhallow rivers flow with filver ftreams, Then the deceit the fealy breed survey, Bafk in the fun, and look into the day: Dazzles our eyes, and eafy hearts betrays. Mark well the various feafons of the year, How the fucceeding infect race appear; In this revolving moon one colour reigns, Which in the next the fickle trout disdains, Oft have I feen the fkilful angler try The various colours of the treacherous fly, [brook, When he with fruitlefs pain hath kimm'd she ཨིན་པ༄ * He shakes the boughs that on the margin grow, When a brifk gale against the current blows, Would you preferve a numerous finny race; Let your fierce dogs the ravenous otter chafe (Th' amphibious monster ranges all the fhores, Darts through the waves, and every haunt explores): Or let the gin his roving steps betray, I never wander where the bordering reeds O'erlock the muddy ftream, whofe tangling weeds Perplex the fisher; I nor choofe to bear Nor drain I ponds, the golden carp to take, CANTO II. Now, fporting mufe, draw in the flowing reins, .n Let the keen hunter from the chace refrain, Nor render all the ploughman's labour vain, When Ceres pours out plenty from her horn, And clothes the fields with golden ears of corn. Now, now, ye reapers, to your task repair, Hafte! fave the product of the bounteous year: To the wide-gathering hook long furrows yield, And rifing fheaves extend through all the field. Yet, if for Sylvan fports thy bofom glow, Let thy fleet greyhound urge his flying foe. With what delight the rapid course I view ! How does my eye the circling race purfue! He fnaps deceitful air with empty jaws; The fubtle hare darts swift beneath his paws; She flics, the ftretches, now with nimble bound Eager he preffes on, but overshoots his ground; She turns, he winds, and foon regains the way, Then tears with gory mouth the fcreaming prey. What various sport does rural life afford! [board! What unbought dainties heap the wholefome Nor less the spaniel, fkilful to betray, Rewards the fowler with the feather'd prey. Soon as the labouring horfe, with fwelling veins, Hath fafely hous'd the farmer's doubtful gains, To fweet repast th' unwary patridge flies, With joy amid the scatter'd harvest lies; Wandering in plenty, danger he forgets, Nor dreads the flavery of entangling nets. The fubtle dog fcours with fagacions nofe Along the field, and fnuffs each breeze that blows; Against the wind he takes his prudent way, While the ftrong gale dire&es him to the prey; Now the warm fcent affures the covey near, He treads with caution, and he points with fear; Then (left fome fentry fowl the fraud defcry, And bid bis fellows from the danger fly) Clofe to the ground in expectation lies, Till in the fnare the fluttering covey rise. Soon as the blufhing light begins to ípread, And glancing Phoebus gilds the mountain's head, His early flight th' ill fated partridge takes, And quits the friendly fhelter of the brakes. Or, when the fun cafts a declining ray, |