[729] Horace Walpole is speaking of this work, when he wrote on May 16, 1759 (Letters, iii. 227):—­’Dr. Young has published a new book, on purpose, he says himself, to have an opportunity of telling a story that he has known these forty years.  Mr. Addison sent for the young Lord Warwick, as he was dying, to shew him in what peace a Christian could die—­unluckily he died of brandy—­nothing makes a Christian die in peace like being maudlin! but don’t say this in Gath, where you are.’

[730] ’His [Young’s] plan seems to have started in his mind at the present moment; and his thoughts appear the effect of chance, sometimes adverse, and sometimes lucky, with very little operation of judgment....  His verses are formed by no certain model; he is no more like himself in his different productions than he is like others.  He seems never to have studied prosody, nor to have had any direction but from his own ear.  But with all his defects, he was a man of genius and a poet.’  Johnson’s Works, viii. 458, 462.  Mrs. Piozzi (Synonymy, ii. 371) tells why ’Dr. Johnson despised Young’s quantity of common knowledge as comparatively small.  ’Twas only because, speaking once upon the subject of metrical composition, he seemed totally ignorant of what are called rhopalick verses, from the Greek word, a club—­verses in which each word must be a syllable longer than that which goes before, such as: 

     Spes deus aeternae stationis conciliator.’

[731] He had said this before. Ante, ii. 96.

[732]

     ’Brunetta’s wise in actions great and rare,
      But scorns on trifles to bestow her care. 
      Thus ev’ry hour Brunetta is to blame,
      Because th’ occasion is beneath her aim. 
      Think nought a trifle, though it small appear;
      Small sands the mountains, moments make the year,
      And trifles life.  Your care to trifles give,
      Or you may die before you truly live.’

Love of Fame, Satire vi.  Johnson often taught that life is made up of trifles.  See ante, i. 433.

[733]

     “But hold,” she cries, “lampooner, have a care;
      Must I want common sense, because I’m fair?”
      O no:  see Stella; her eyes shine as bright,
      As if her tongue was never in the right;
      And yet what real learning, judgment, fire! 
      She seems inspir’d, and can herself inspire: 
      How then (if malice rul’d not all the fair)
      Could Daphne publish, and could she forbear? 
      We grant that beauty is no bar to sense,
      Nor is’t a sanction for impertinence.

Love of Fame, Satire v.

[734] Johnson called on Young’s son at Welwyn in June, 1781. Ante, iv. 119.  Croft, in his Life of Young (Johnson’s Works, viii. 453), says that ’Young and his housekeeper were ridiculed with more ill-nature than wit in a kind of novel published by Kidgell in 1755, called The Card, under the name of Dr. Elwes and Mrs. Fusby.’