divorced; the second he dismissed on account of her immodest behaviour;
and the third appears to have survived him. He had a number of
respectable friends, and seems to have been much beloved by them.----

TIBULLUS was descended of an equestrian family, and is said, but
erroneously, as will afterwards appear, to have been born on the same day
with Ovid. His amiable accomplishments procured him the friendship of
Messala Corvinus, whom he accompanied in a military expedition to the
island of Corcyra. But an indisposition with which he was seized, and a
natural aversion to the toils of war, induced him to return to Rome,
where he seems to have resigned himself to a life of indolence and
pleasure, amidst which he devoted a part of his time to the composition
of elegies. Elegiac poetry had been cultivated by several Greek writers,
particularly Callimachus, Mimnermus, and Philetas; but, so far as we can
find, had, until the present age, been unknown to the Romans in their own
tongue. It consisted of a heroic and pentameter line alternately, and
was not, like the elegy of the moderns, usually appropriated to the
lamentation of the deceased, but employed chiefly in compositions
relative to love or friendship, and might, indeed, be used upon almost
any subject; though, from the limp in the pentameter line, it is not
suitable to sublime subjects, which require a fulness of expression, and
an expansion of sound. To this species of poetry Tibullus restricted his
application, by which he cultivated that simplicity and tenderness, and
agreeable ease of sentiment, which constitute the characteristic
perfections of the elegiac muse.

In the description of rural scenes, the peaceful occupations of the
field, the charms of domestic happiness, and the joys of reciprocal love,
scarcely any poet surpasses Tibullus. His luxuriant imagination collects
the most beautiful flowers of nature, and he displays them with all the
delicate attraction of soft and harmonious numbers. With a dexterity
peculiar to himself, in whatever subject he engages, he leads his readers
imperceptibly through devious paths of pleasure, of which, at the outset
of the poem, they could form no conception. He seems to have often
written without any previous meditation or design. Several of his
elegies may be said to have neither middle nor end: yet the transitions
are so natural, and the gradations so easy, that though we wander through
Elysian scenes of fancy,