Complete Works of Edward Young, page 116
Thou art so witty, profligate, and thin,
At once we think thee Milton, Death, and Sin.
The last satire of the ‘Universal Passion’ is dedicated to Sir Robert Walpole, to whom he had already addressed a poem called ‘The Instalment’ (i.e. in the order of the Garter, 1726). Walpole is there complimented on having turned the royal bounty towards Young. Young received (25 June 1726; see the grant published by Doran, p. xxxvii) a pension of 200l. a year. It does not appear whether this was a reward for any particular services, though it is suggested that he may have been a writer for the government. Swift in the ‘Rhapsody on Poetry’ (1753) says that Young
Must torture his invention
To flatter knaves or lose his pension.
Swift had previously ridiculed Young’s flattery of Walpole and Sir Spencer Compton in ‘Verses written upon reading the “Universal Passion,”’ though in his letters he occasionally mentions Young respectfully.
Young was prompted by the first parliamentary speech of George II (27 Jan. 1727–1728) to produce an ode called ‘Ocean,’ to which was prefixed an ‘Essay upon Lyric Poetry.’ The essay is commonplace and the ode delightfully absurd. He afterwards sinned once or twice in the same way. About this time Young apparently decided that his most promising career would be in the line of ecclesiastical preferment. He took orders at an uncertain date, and in April 1728 was appointed chaplain to the king. Ruffhead declares that upon his ordination he ‘asked Pope to direct him in his theological studies.’ Pope recommended Aquinas. Young retired to study his author ‘at an obscure place in the suburbs.’ Pope sought him out six months later, and was just in time to prevent an irretrievable ‘derangement.’ The story, said to be told by Pope to Warburton, is probably some joke converted into a statement of fact. Young was already known to Pope in the time of quarrel with Tickell and Addison (1715). ‘Tragic Young’ is mentioned by Gay as one of the friends who welcome Pope’s ‘return from Troy.’ He often refers to Pope with great respect, and in 1730 addressed him in two epistles ‘upon the authors of the age’ — that is, Pope’s antagonists in the war roused by the ‘Dunciad.’
An undated letter from Young to Mrs. Howard (soon afterwards Lady Suffolk), first published in the ‘Suffolk Letters’ (i. 284–7), and conjecturally dated 1727, was probably written in 1730. An incidental reference to Townshend as still in office shows that it cannot have been later. Young, however, says that he is ‘turned of fifty,’ that he has been seven years in his majesty’s service, and that he is still without preferment. He says that he has in some way given up 300l. a year in consequence of his expectations of royal favour. Letters in the Newcastle Papers, now in the British Museum, show that he was still complaining bitterly to the Duke of Newcastle in 1746 and as late as 1758. He says that he is the only person who, having been in the king’s service before his accession to the throne, had yet received nothing. It does not appear what his special services had been, though in 1746 he says that they began twenty-four years previously, and evidently considers that they deserved at least a deanery. In July 1730 he was presented by All Souls’ to the rectory of Welwyn in Hertfordshire, worth 300l. a year. On 27 May 1731 he married Lady Elizabeth, younger daughter of Edward Henry Lee, first earl of Lichfield [see under Lee, George Henry, third Earl], and widow of Colonel Lee. Young, according to Croft, was known to this lady through her relationship to Anne Wharton, first wife of the elder Wharton, who had been a friend of his father, the dean. To the same friendship is ascribed, but on vague conjecture, Young’s connection with the Duke of Wharton.
For some years Young published nothing except another absurd ode in 1734, called ‘The Foreign Address,’ and written ‘in the character of a sailor.’ He had one child by his wife, called Frederick after his godfather, the Prince of Wales. Lady Elizabeth had a daughter by her former husband, married to Henry Temple, son of Henry Temple (1673?–1757), first viscount Palmerston Mrs. Temple died of consumption at Lyons in October 1736 on her way to Nice; Young had accompanied her, and passed the winter at Nice. Temple died on 18 Aug. 1740, and Lady Elizabeth in January 1741. Reference in the ‘Night Thoughts’ to three deaths happening ’ere thrice yon moon had filled her horn’ is apparently a poetical allusion to these misfortunes. Mrs. Temple is supposed to be Narcissa, while Philander in the same poem represents Temple. A story afterwards became current that ‘Narcissa’ had died at Montpellier, where her grave was pointed out in a garden. Young in the ‘Night Thoughts’ (‘Third Night’) describes a surreptitious burial made necessary by the superstitious refusal of a grave to a heretic. Mrs. Temple is proved by records to have been regularly buried in the protestant ground at Lyons. It has therefore been argued that Young may have had a daughter, who may have died at Montpellier in 1741, and may have been buried in the manner described. It is easier to suppose that he was taking a poetic license (see Notes and Queries, 1st ser. vols. iii. iv. and v.; in 4th ser. viii. 484–5 is a reference to various pamphlets on the subject. The documents in regard to Mrs. Temple’s death and her epitaph are given in Breghot du Lut’s Nouveaux Mélanges, &c., 1829–31, p–8). Judicious critics have also pointed out that the infidel Lorenzo in the same poem could not be meant for the poet’s own son, inasmuch as the son was only eight years old at the time of publication. ‘The Complaint; or Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality,’ appeared in June 1742, and was followed by the later ‘Nights.’ The ‘Night Thoughts’ achieved immediate popularity, and Young was now regarded as an ornament to religion and literature. He never obtained, however, the preferment to which he thought himself entitled. Apparently his hopes, like those of his friend Dodington, depended mainly upon the Prince of Wales, who was never able to reward his adherents. As Young said characteristically in the ‘Fourth Night:’
My very master knows me not;
I’ve been so long remembered, I’m forgot.
He had, however, become rich and led a dignified life of retirement at Welwyn. He was a friend of the Duke of Portland, and occasionally visited Tunbridge Wells and Bath. Mrs. (Elizabeth) Montagu describes him at Tunbridge Wells in 1745, where he received her homage affably and made little excursions with her. She was surprised to find that his chief intimate was Colley Cibber. A common friend of Young and Cibber was Samuel Richardson, who corresponded with him from 1744 to 1759. A ‘Caroline’ mentioned in these letters was apparently Miss (called Mrs.) Hallows, daughter of Daniel Hallows, rector of All Hallows, Hertfordshire. Her father died in 1741, when Young wrote an epitaph placed in the chancel of the church (Nichols, Lit. Anecd. ix. 501). The daughter became Young’s housekeeper, and, as his friends thought, came to have too great power in the family. Young and his housekeeper were caricatured in a rubbishy novel called ‘The Card’ by John Kidgell In 1753 Young brought out the tragedy of ‘The Brothers,’ written many years before, and suppressed when he took orders and thought that play-writing was not consistent with his new profession. He now proposed to give the profits to the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. It was played at Drury Lane on 3 March 1753, and ran eight nights, but produced only 400l. Young, who had anticipated 1,000l., liberally paid the full sum to the society (Richardson, Correspondence, vi. 246). He afterwards wrote ‘The Centaur not Fabulous’ (1754), a kind of ‘Night Thought’ in prose; and a letter (to Richardson) upon ‘Original Composition’ (1759) which shows remarkable vivacity for a man of nearly eighty. This book was much admired by Klopstock and his friends, who were beginning to aim at originality (see Gervinus, Geschichte der deutschen Dichtung, 1853, iv. 332). Archbishop Secker, in a letter of July 1758 (printed by Croft), wonders that Young had received no preferment; but points out to him that his fortune and reputation put him above the need of it, and judiciously infers that he is too wise to feel concern for such things. In 1761 he was appointed ‘clerk of the closet’ to the princess dowager in succession to Stephen Hales In October 1761 his old friend Dodington (Lord Melcombe), who also had at last got his reward by a peerage, sent him an ode full of most edifying sentiments. In 1762 Mrs. Boscawen, who had found consolation for the loss of her husband, Admiral Edward Boscawen (1711–1761) , in her perusal of ‘Night Thoughts,’ was introduced by Mrs. Montagu to the author. He administered further consolation in person and by his last publication, a poem called ‘Resignation.’ It shows the decay of his power. Young’s last years were melancholy. He was never cheerful, as his son told Johnson, after the death of his wife. Details of his growing infirmity are given in the correspondence with Birch of his last curate, John Jones (1700–1770) Jones was persuaded to stay on with him, though complaining a good deal of the old man’s irritability and the influence of Mrs. Hallows. Young’s only son had been educated at Winchester, and was afterwards at Balliol, where he seems to have got into trouble (Biogr. Brit.). Young had refused to see him for many years. In Young’s last illness, however, Mrs. Hallows properly sent for the son. The father was then too ill to see him, but sent a message of forgiveness, and left to him the bulk of his property. Young died on 5 April 1765. He left a legacy of 1,000l. to Mrs. Hallows, one to ‘his friend Henry Stevens, a hatter at the Temple Gate,’ and a third to Jones, who was one of his executors. He also left directions, which were apparently not executed, that all his papers should be destroyed. Young had built a steeple to his church (Richardson, Corresp. ii. 19), and had founded a charity school in the parish. The life in the ‘Biographia Britannica’ asserts that proper respect was not paid at his funeral by the parishioners, who were not sufficiently appreciative of their rector’s merits. Jones, however (Lit. Anecd. i. 634), says that he was ‘decently buried’ under the communion table near his wife, with a proper attendance of the clergy.
Few anecdotes are told of Young’s personal habits. A story told by Pope (Works, x. 261) is supposed to apply to him, and to illustrate the absence of mind for which he was famous. He is said in the ‘Biographia’ to have spent many hours a day ‘among the tombs,’ which is perhaps an inference from his poetry; and he put up an alcove in his garden, where a bench was painted so as to produce an illusion of reality. Under it was inscribed Invisibilia non decipiunt. He did better by planting a fine avenue of lime trees in the rectory garden, which still thrives. On 30 Sept. 1781 it formed a ‘handsome Gothic arch,’ much admired by Johnson and Boswell. The house in which he lived (not the rectory) remains, and his writing-desk is shown there. The house was in 1781 occupied by Young’s son, to whom Johnson said, ‘I had the honour to know that great man your father.’ Johnson, however, seems only to have met him at Richardson’s house to discuss the letter upon ‘Original Composition.’ Owing to Young’s retirement in later years he had passed out of the personal knowledge of most literary contemporaries. His poetry had become very popular, and he is mentioned with reverence by literary ladies such as Mrs. Montagu and Mrs. Delany. Young shared the talent of Pope for coining proverbial sentences. They include such copybook phrases as ‘Procrastination is the thief of time’ (‘First Night,’ i. 393), and a version of the familiar epigram in ‘men talk only to conceal the mind’ (Satire ii. 289). His laboured and sententious style made a singular success when employed in the service of religious sentimentalism. Young claimed to add the orthodox element which was wanting in Pope’s rationalistic ‘Essay on Man,’ and his religious gloom was in edifying contrast to Pope’s doctrine that whatever is is right. He was an early representative of the sentimentalism which was combined with a higher genius in his friend Richardson. The strain was taken up with almost equal popularity in James Hervey’s ‘Meditations among the Tombs’ (1745–6). ‘Night Thoughts’ obtained a right to a place in all the libraries of the religious public, and has scarcely yet lost it. Such an achievement shows real power which the literary critic is apt to overlook. George Eliot thought it worth while to expose Young’s feelings as man and author in an essay on ‘Worldliness and Otherworldliness’ (reprinted in her ‘Essays’ from the Westminster Review of 1857). His mixture of bombast and platitude is of course indefensible, and it is easy to question the sincerity of a man who courted Wharton, the most reckless spendthrift, and Dodington, the most profligate politician of his age. Young’s gloom was no doubt partly that of a disappointed preferment-hunter, but probably was genuine enough in its way, and as sincere as that of most writers who bring their churchyard contemplations to market. Whatever his intrinsic merits, his poetry had very remarkable influence both in France and Germany. Klopstock wrote a poem upon his death, and he was considered by other German writers to be superior to Milton. In France the ‘Night Thoughts’ divided enthusiasm with ‘Clarissa Harlowe’ and ‘Ossian.’ A loose translation by Letourneur (1769), with a preliminary dissertation, made a great sensation and went through several editions. The poem was admired by Diderot, Robespierre (who ‘kept it under his pillow’ during the Revolution), and by Madame de Stael. Young was sharply criticised by Chateaubriand, but was still read by Lamartine and the French ‘romantics.’ An interesting account of Young’s popularity in France is given in M. Texte’s ‘Rousseau and the Cosmopolitan Spirit in Literature’ (English translation, 1899, p–14. See also Diderot, Œuvres (1877), xx. 13; Chateaubriand, Mélanges Littéraires, vi. 374; Madame de Stael, Œuvres (1830), iv. 212, 219; Grimm, Correspondance (1831), viii. 30, 31, 47, 310).
