fo expreffed, as to have all the novelty that can be required. Of "The Brothers" I may be allowed to fay nothing, fince nothing was ever faid of it by the publick.

It must be allowed of Young's poetry that it abounds in thought, but without much accuracy or selection. When he lays hold of an illustration, he pursues it beyond expectation, fometimes happily, as in his parallel of Quickfilver with Pleafure, which I have heard repeated with approbation by a Lady, of whofe praise he would have been justly proud, and which is very ingenious, very fubtle, and almoft exact; but fometimes he is lefs lucky, as when, in his Night Thoughts, having it dropped into his mind, that the orbs, floating in fpace, might be called the cluster of creation, he thinks on a clufter of grapes, and fays, that they all hang on the great vine, drinking the "nectareous juice of immortal life."

His conceits are fometimes yet lefs valuable. In The Last Day he hopes to illuftrate the re-affembly of the atoms that compose the human body at the "Trump of Doom" by the collection of bees into a fwarm at the tinkling of a pan.

The Prophet fays of Tyre, that "her Merchants "are Princes." Young fays of Tyre in his Merchant,

Her merchants Princes, and each deck a throne.

Let burlefque try to go beyond him.

He has the trick of joining the turgid and familiar: to buy the alliance of Britain, "Climes were paid "down." Antithefis is his favourite,

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They for "kindness hate :" and "because she's right, fhe's "ever in the wrong."

His verfification is his own; neither his blank nor his rhyming lines have any resemblance to thofe of former writers; he picks up no hemiftichs, he copies no favourite expreffions; he feems to have laid up no ftores of thought or diction, but to owe all to the fortuitous fuggeftions of the prefent moment. Yet I have reason to believe that, when once he had formed a new defign, he then laboured it with very patient industry; and that he compofed with great labour, and frequent revifions.

His verfes are formed by no certain model; he is no more like himself in his different productions than he is like others. He feems never to have studied profody, 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.

MALLET.

MALL E T.

OF DAVID MALLET, having no written memorial, I am able to give no other account than fuch as is fupplied by the unauthorised loquacity of common fame, and a very flight perfonal knowledge.

He was by his original one of the Macgregors, a clan, that became, about fixty years ago, under the conduct of Robin Roy, fo formidable and fo infamous for violence and robbery, that the name was annulled by a legal abolition; and when they were all to denominate themselves anew, the father, I fuppofe of this author, called himself Malloch.

David Malloch was, by the penury of his parents, compelled to be Janitor of the High School at Edinburgh; a mean office, of which he did not afterwards delight to hear. But he furmounted the disadvantages of his birth and fortune; for, when the Duke of Montrofe applied to the College of Edinburgh for a tutor to educate his fons, Malloch was

recom

recommended; and I never heard that he dishonoured his credentials.

When his pupils were fent to fee the world, they were entrusted to his care; and, having conducted them round the common circle of modifh travels, he returned with them to London, where, by the influence of the family in which he refided, he naturally gained admiffion to many perfons of the highest rank and the highest character, to wits, nobles, and statesmen.

Of his works, I know not whether I can trace the feries. His firft production was William and Margaret; of which, though it contains nothing very ftriking or difficult, he has been envied the reputation and plagiarism has been boldly charged, but never proved.

Not long afterwards he published The Excurfion (1728); a defultory and capricious view of fuch fcenes of Nature as his fancy led him, or his knowledge enabled him, to defcribe. It is not devoid of poetical spirit. Many of his images are striking, and many of the paragraphs are elegant. The caft of diction feems to be copied from Thomson, whose "Seafons" were then in their full bloffom of reputation. He has Thomfon's beauties and his faults.

His poem on Verbal Criticism (1733) was written to pay court to Pope, on a fubject which he either did not understand, or willingly misrepresented; and

* Mallet's William and Margaret was printed in Aaron Hill's Plain Dealer," No. 36, July 24, 1724. In its original ftate it was very different from what it is in the last edition of his works.

is little more than an improvement, or rather expanfion, of a fragment which Pope printed in a Mifcellany long before he engrafted it into a regular poem. There is in this piece more pertnefs than wit, and more confidence than knowledge. The verfification is tolerable, nor can criticifm allow it a higher praife,

His first tragedy was Eurydice, acted at Drury Lane in 1731; of which I know not the reception nor the merit, but have heard it mentioned as a mean performance. He was not then too high to accept a Prologue and Epilogue from Aaron Hill, neither of which can be much commended.

Having cleared his tongue from his native pronunciation fo as to be no longer diftinguished as a Scot, he feems inclined to difencumber himself from all adherences of his original, and took upon him to change his name from Scotch Malloch to English Mallet, without any imaginable reafon of preference which the eye or ear can difcover. What other proofs he gave of difrefpect to his native country, I know not; but it was remarked of him, that he was the only Scot whom Scotchmen did not commend.

About this time Pope, whom he vifited familiarly, published his " Effay on Man," but concealed the author; and, when Mallet entered one day, Pope afked him flightly what there was new. Mallet told him, that the newest piece was fomething called an "Effay "on Man," which he had inspected idly, and feeing the utter inability of the author, who had neither fkill in writing nor knowledge of the fubject, had

toffed