minaries which are burning above in the Great Bear and
Orion--the poet the while now dipping his pen to indite his ardent
immortalities--now leaning his head on his widowed arm, and surrendering
himself to paroxysms of uncontrollable anguish--and now looking out upon
the Night as the "Lord is abroad" on the wings of the tempest, or as He
is silently shining out his name in suns and galaxies--those unwearied
"Watchers" and unbaptized "Holy Ones."

In 1745, Young wrote "Reflections on the Public Situation of the
Kingdom"--a production which made no impression at the time, and is now
entirely forgotten. He did not include it in the collection of his works.
In 1753, the tragedy of "The Brothers," which had lain past for thirty
years, was produced on the stage. Young gave the profits of the play, and
several hundreds from his own pocket, amounting to a thousand pounds in
all, to the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel--an act which
surely balances the stories usually told of his love of money and thirst
for preferment.

His next work was, "The Centaur not Fabulous, in Six Letters to a
Friend." Its subjects were, the infidelity and licentiousness of that
age. It is a pity that this book has fallen into oblivion, as it is a
very rich and powerful piece of writing. It is full of clear, sharp,
sententious truth. Its style palpitates with energy, and glitters with
poetic image. We wish we saw it reprinted in a cheap form; for, although
infidelity and pleasure have both materially changed their phases, there
is much in Young's little work that has an imperishable application, and
that would be even yet eminently useful. The character of Altamont is
supposed to represent Lord Euston--a nobleman notorious for his vices.
The age in which Young's lot was cast was characterised by a low,
sneering scepticism, and his earnest and awful letters were treated with
ridicule. Many pronounced him mad, others whispered about dotage. _Now_,
the book seems replete with wisdom, and burning almost with prophetic
fire.

Young, in fact, was not generally appreciated during his lifetime. Tried
by the Boileau and Pope standard, his writings were pronounced turgid,
strained, and extravagant. Even Warburton, who should have known better,
passed a severe judgment on the "Night Thoughts." He had, however, his
warm admirers, prominent among whom was the amiable and learned Joseph
Warton. He dedicated to Young his "Essay on Pope"--an essay containing