The poetical works: of Thomas Gray. With the life of the author.

THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY.

THOMAS GRAY, the subject of this narrative, was the fifth son of Mr. Philip Gray, whose father was a con∣siderable merchant, and who himself was engaged in business* 1.1, though not to the pecuniary advantage of his family, for being of a shy and indolent temper he suffered those opportunities of improving his fortune to escape him which others would have eagerly em∣braced. His son Thomas was born Dec. 26th 1716, in Cornhill London, and sent early to Eton school under the tuition of Mr. Antrobus his maternal uncle. This gentleman, being both a good scholar and a man of taste, was assiduous in directing the attention of his nephew to those sources of improvement which he afterwards applied to with so much success. During the time of Mr. Gray's continuance in this abode of the Muses he contracted the strictest intimacy with two of their votaries, whose dispositions in many re∣spects were congenial with his own. One of these was the Honourable Horace Walpole, who hath been so long conspicuous for his skill in the fine arts and his love of letters; the other Richard West Esq. son to a late lord chancellor of Ireland, and grandson by his mother to the celebrated Bishop Burnet. As the ac∣cident of his uncle's being an assistant at Eton was the

cause of his going thither for his classical learning, so to this gentleman's being Fellow of Peterhouse in Cambridge it was owing that he was sent to the same university, and admitted in the year 1734 a Pensioner of the same college.

The relish Mr. Gray had contracted for polite li∣terature before his removal to Cambridge rendered the abstruse studies which then almost wholly en∣grossed, and at present too much occupy, the attention of young men altogether tasteless and irkfome: still

"Song was his favourite and first pursuit;"

and tho' his thoughts were directed towards the law as a profession for life, yet like Garrick in the picture between Tragedy and Comedy, he hung back with fond reluctance on the Muse. Nor was this bias of his inclination a little influenced by the constant exhor∣tations of his two friends, particularly Mr. West, who was now removed to Christ's Church Oxford, and whose propensity to poetry and dislike to the law ap∣pear to have even exceeded his own. After having passed four years in college Mr. Gray returned to his father in Town, where he remained till the following spring, at which time Mr. Walpole being about to travel invited his friend to go along with him. The invita∣tion was accepted, and they accordingly set out for Italy together, but some disagreement arising between them (occasioned, as Mr. Walpole ingenuously con∣fesses, less by his companion's conduct than his own)

they parted at Rheggio, from whence, after having made a short stay at Venice, Mr. Gray returned. The time however devoted to this excursion was by no means lost: nothing that our poet saw was suffered to escape him. From no relation, though purposely designed for the publick eye, can so much informa∣tion be drawn as from his casual letters. During this interval of his friend's absence Mr. West, finding that his aversion to the profession for which he had desti∣ned himself (and with a view to which he had resided some time in the Temple) became almost insuperable, wrote to Mr. Gray on the subject, expressing in the strongest manner the ennui that almost overwhelmed him. To this letter an answer was returned which presents the finest picture of the writer's mind, and abounds with a justness of thinking far beyond his years. Gray was now at Florence, where he had spent in all eleven months, amusing himself at intervals with poetical compositions. It was here that he con∣ceived the design, and produced the first book, of a di∣dactick poem in Latin entitled De Principiis Cogitandi, and addressed to Mr. West, a work which he unfor∣tunately never completed. From Florence proceed∣ing to Venice he returned to England, deviating but little from the route he had gone, but particularly ta∣king once more in his way the Grand Chartreuse, where in this visit he wrote on the album of that mo∣nastery the following Alcaick ode:

Oh Tu, severi Religio loci, Quocunque gaudes nomine (non leve Nativa nam certè fluenta Numen habet, veteresque sylvas;

Praesentiorem et conspicimus Deum Per invias rupes, fera per juga, Clivosque praeruptos, sonantes Inter aquas, nemorumque noctem;

Quâm si repòstus sub trabe citreâ Fulgeret auro, et Phidiacâ manu) Salve vocanti ritè, fesso et Da placidam juveni quietem.

Quod si invidendis sedibus, et frui Fortuna sacrâ lege silentii Vetat volentem, me resorbens In medios violenta fluctus:

Saltem remoto des, Pater, angulo Horas senectae ducere liberas; Tutumque vulgari tumultu Surripias, hominumque curis.

On the 1st of September 1741 he arrived in Lon∣don; where he had not been much more than two months before his father was carried off by the gout, a malady from which he had long and severely suffered. As the inactivity and ill health of the elder Mr. Gray had prevented him from accumulating the fortune he might have acquired with ease, so his imprudence had induced him to squander no inconsiderable part of what he possessed. The son therefore finding his pa∣trimony inadequate to the profession he had intended to follow without diminishing the income of his mother

and his aunt, resolved for this reason to relinquish it; yet to silence their importunities on the subject he proposed only to change the line of it, and accord∣ingly went to Cambridge in the year 1742 to take his Bachelor's degree. But the inconveniencies incident to a scanty fortune were not the only evils he had now to combat. Poor West, the friend of his heart, was overborne by a consumption and family distresses; and these, alas! were burthens which friendship could not remove. After languishing a considerable time under their united oppression this amiable youth fell a victim to both on the 1st of June 1742 at Pope's, and was interred in the chancel of Hatfield church, beneath a stone bearing the epitaph below* 1.2.

From the time of Mr. Gray's return out of Italy to the date of this melancholy event he seems to have employed himself chiefly in writing, for in this in∣terval he communicated to Mr. West the fragment of his tragedy, and several other pieces. The shock how∣ever of so severe a stroke disarranged his plans, and broke off his designs. The only addition he afterwards made to his didactick poem is the apostrophe to the friend he had lost† 1.3; and nothing can more pathetically

display the feelings of a heart wounded by such a loss than that apostrophe and the sonnet in which he gave them vent:

In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And redd'ning Phoebus lifts his golden fire, The birds in vain their am'rous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire; These ears, alas! for other notes repine, A diff'rent object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine, And in my breast th' imperfect joys expire:

Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And newborn pleasure brings to happier men, The fields to all their wonted tribute bear, To warm their little loves the birds complain; I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, And weep the more because I weep in vain.

The Ode to Spring was written early in June at Stoke, whither he had gone to visit his mother, and sent to Mr. West before Mr. Gray had heard of his death: how he employed his pen when this ode was returned to him with the melancholy news we have already seen. Impressions of grief on the generality of mankind, like characters marked on the sand of the sea, are speedily effaced by the influx of business or pleasure, but the traces of them on the heart of Gray were too deeply inscribed to be soon obliterated; we shall not therefore wonder at the subjects he has cho∣sen, nor at the solemnity with which he hath treated them. His Ode on the Prospect of Eton College, as well as the Hymn to Adversity, were both written in the following August, and it is highly probable that the Elegy in the Country Church yard was begun also about this time.

Having made a visit of some length at Stoke to his mother and aunt our poet returned to Cambridge, which from this period became his principal home. The conveniencies resulting from that situation, to a person of circumscribed fortune and a studious temper, were in his estimation more than a counterbalance for the dislike which, on several accounts, he bore to

the place. Less pleased with exerting his own powers than in contemplating the exertions of others, he al∣most wholly devoted himself to the best writers of Greece; and so assiduously did he apply to the study of their works as in the course of six years to have read with critical exactness almost every author of note in that language. During this interval however he was not so entirely occupied with his stated em∣ployment as to have no time for expressing his aver∣sion to the ignorance and dulness which appeared to surround him; but of what he intended on this sub∣ject a short fragment only remains.

In the year 1744 he appears to have given up en∣tirely his didactick poem, and to have relinquished, for sometime at least, any further solicitations of the Muse. Mr. Walpole, notwithstanding, being desi∣rous to preserve what he had already written, and to perpetuate the merit of their deceased friend, impor∣tuned Mr. Gray to publish his own poems together with those of Mr. West; but this Mr. Gray declined, from the apprehension that the joint stock of both would hardly fill a small volume▪ A favourite cat be∣longing to Mr. Walpole happening about this time (1747) to be drowned, Mr. Gray amused himself with writing on the occasion an elegant little ode, in which he hath happily united both humour and in∣struction. But the following year was distinguished by a far more important effort of his Muse; the Fragment on Education and Government, which is

superiour to every thing in the same style of writing that our own language can boast of, and perhaps any other.

ESSAY I.

—〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Theoc.

As sickly plants betray a niggard earth, Whose barren bosom starves her gen'rous birth, Nor genial warmth nor genial juice retains Their roots to feed and fill their verdant veins, And as in climes where Winter holds his reign The soil tho' fertile will not teem in vain, Forbids her gems to swell her shades to rise, Nor trusts her blossoms to the churlish skies; So draw mankind in vain the vital airs Unform'd, unfriended, by those kindly cares That health and vigour to the soul impart, Spread the young thought and warm the op'ning heart; So fond Instruction on the growing pow'rs Of Nature idly lavishes her stores If equal Justice with unclouded face Smile not indulgent on the rising race, And scatter with a free tho' frugal hand Light golden show'rs of plenty o'er the land: But Tyranny has fix'd her empire there To check their tender hopes with chilling fear And blast the blooming promise of the year.

This spacious animated scene survey From where the rolling orb that gives the day His sable sons with nearer course surrounds To either pole and life's remotest bounds: How rude soe'er th' exterior form we find, Howe'er opinion tinge the vary'd mind, Alike to all the kind impartial Heav'n The sparks of truth and happiness has giv'n;

With sense to feel, with mem'ry to retain, They follow pleasure and they fly from pain; Their judgment mends the plan their fancy draws, Th' event presages and explores the cause; The soft returns of gratitude they know, By fraud clude, by force repel the foe; While mutual wishes mutual woes endear, The social smile and sympathetick tear.

Say, then, thro' ages by what fate confin'd To diff'rent climes seem diff'rent souls assign'd? Here measur'd Laws and philosophick Ease Fix and improve the polish'd arts of peace; There Industry and Gain their vigils keep, Command the winds and tame th' unwilling deep; Here force and hardy deeds of blood prevail, There languid Pleasure sighs in ev'ry gale. Oft' o'er the trembling nations from afar Has Scythia breath'd the living cloud of war, And where the deluge burst with sweepy sway Their arms, their kings, their gods, were roll'd away: As oft' have issu'd, host impelling host, The blue-ey'd myriads from the Baltick coast; The prostrate South to the destroyer yields Her boasted titles and her golden fields: With grim delight the brood of Winter view A brighter day, and heav'ns of azure hue, Scent the new fragrance of the breathing rose, And quaff the pendent vintage as it grows. Proud of the yoke, and pliant to the rod, Why yet does Asia dread a monarch's nod, While European freedom still withstands Th' encroaching tide that drowns her less'ning lands, And sees far off with an indignant groan Her native plains and empires once her own? Can op'ner skies and suns of fiercer flame O'erpow'r the fire that animates our frame, As lamps that shed at eve a cheerful ray Fade and expire beneath the eye of day? Need we the influence of the northern star To string our nerves and steel our hearts to war?

And where the face of Nature laughs around Must sick'ning Virtue fly the tainted ground? Unmanly thought! what seasons can controul, What fancy'd zone can circumscribe, the soul, Who conscious of the source from whence the springs By Reason's light on Resolution's wings, Spite of her frail companion, dauntless goes O'er Lybia's deserts and thro' Zembla's snows? She bids each slumb'ring energy awake, Another touch another temper take, Suspends th' inferiour laws that rule our clay: The stubborn elements confess her sway; Their little wants their low desires refine, And raise the mortal to a height divine.

Not but the human fabrick from the birth Imbibes a flavour of its parent earth; As various tracks enforce a various toil, The manners speak the idiom of their soil. An iron race the mountain-cliffs maintain, Foes to the gentler genius of the plain; For where unweary'd sinews must be found With side-long plough to quell the flinty ground, To turn the torrent's swift-descending flood, To brave the savage rushing from the wood, What wonder if to patient valour train'd They guard with spirit what by strength they gain'd? And while their rocky ramparts round they see, The rough abode of Want and Liberty, (As lawless force from confidence will grow) Insult the plenty of the vales below? What wonder in the sultry climes that spread Where Nile redundant o'er his summer-bed From his broad bosom life and verdure flings, And broods o'er Aegypt with his wat'ry wings, If with advent'rous oar and ready sail The dusky people drive before the gale, Or on frail floats to neighb'ring cities ride, That rise and glitter o'er the ambient tide?

How much it is to be wished that Gray, instead of compiling chronological tables, had completed what he thus admirably begun! In the year 1750 he put his last hand to the Elegy in the Country Church∣yard, which when finished was communicated first to Mr. Walpole, and by him to several persons of di∣stinction. I his brought Mr. Gray acquainted with Lady Cobham, and furnished an occasion for his Long Story, a composition in which the different colours of wit and humour are peculiarly and not less intimate∣ly blended than the shifting hues on the faces of a diamond. The elegy having been for some time pri∣vately transmitted from onehand to another, at length found its way into publick through The Magazine of Magazines. This disgraceful mode of appearance subjected the Author to the necessity of exhibiting it under a less disadvantageous form; and Mr. Bentley soon after wishing to supply every ornament that his pencil could contribute, drew, not only for it but also for the rest of Mr. Gray's productions† 2.1, a set of de∣signs, which were handsomely repaid by some very beautiful stanzas, of which unfortunately no perfect copy remains. In the March of 1753 Mr. Gray su∣stained a loss which he long severely felt: his mo∣ther, to whom his conduct was exemplary for the discharge of every filial duty, and who merited all

the tenderness and attention she received, was taken from him by death. The lines in which Mr. Pope hath expressed his piety, beautiful as they are, and much as they deserve to be praised, appear notwith∣standing to excite less of sympathy than a single stroke in the epitaph on Mrs. Gray* 2.2, or a passage in a let∣ter to Mr. Mason, written the following Decem∣ber, on the deaths of his father and friend:

"I have seen the scene you describe, and know how dread∣ful it is; I know too I am the better for it. We are all idle and thoughtless things, and have no sense, no use in the world, any longer than that sad im∣pression lasts: the deeper it is engraved the better."

Mr. Gray, as is evident by a letter to Dr. Wharton, had finished his Ode on the Progress of Poetry early in 1755; his Bard also was begun about this time, and in the year following the beautiful fragment on the Pleasures of Vicissitude. From the loose hints in his commonplace-book he appears to have planned a fourth ode on the connexion between genius and grandeur, but it cannot now be ascertained if any part of it was actually written. A vacancy in the of∣fice of Poet-Laureate was occasioned in 1757 by the death of Colley Cibber. The Duke of Devonshire,

being at that time Chamberlain, made a polite offer of it to Mr. Gray through the hands of Lord John Cavendish his brother; but the disgrace brought upon that office by the profligacy and inability of some who had filled it probably induced Mr. Gray to decline the appointment. This part of our poet's life was chiefly devoted to literary pursuits and the cultiva∣tion of friendship. It is obvious from the testimony of his letters that he was indefatigable in the former, and that he was always ready to perform kind offices in the latter. Sir William Williams, an accomplished and gallant young officer, having been killed at Bellisle, his friend Mr. Fred. Montagu proposed to erect a mo∣nument over him, and with this view requested Mr. Gray to furnish the epitaph. His slight acquaintance with Sir William would have been a sufficient reason for declining the task, but the friendliness of Mr. Montagu's disposition, and the sincerity of affliction with which he was affected, wrought so powerfully upon Mr. Gray that he could not refuse him, though he was by no means able to satisfy himself with the verses he wrote. The professorship of modern lan∣guages and history in the University of Cambridge becoming vacant in 1762 through the death of Mr. Turner, Mr. Gray was spirited up by some of his friends to ask of Lord Bute the succession. His ap∣plication however failed, the office having been pro∣mised to Lady Lowther for the tutor of Sir James, from a motive which reflected more honour on her

Ladyship than on the gentleman who succeeded. In 1765 Mr. Gray, ever attached to the beauties of Na∣ture as well as to the love of antiquities, undertook a journey to Scotland for the purpose of gratifying his curiosity and taste. During his stay in this country Dr. Beattie (though not the first of philosophers yet a poet inferiour to none since the death of his friend, and whom he in many respects resembled) found the means of engaging his notice and friendship. Through the intervention of this gentleman the Ma∣risehal College of Aberdeen had requested to know if the degree of Doctor of Laws would be acceptable to Gray; but this mark of their attention he civilly de∣clined. In December 1767 Dr. Beattie, still desirous that his country should afford some testimony of its regard to the merit of our poet, solicited his permis∣sion to print at the University press of Glasgow an elegant edition of his Works. Dodsley had before asked the like favour, and Mr. Gray, unwilling to re∣fuse, gratified both with a copy containing a few notes and the imitations of the old Norwegian poe∣try, intended to supplant the Long Story, which was printed at first only to illustrate Mr. Bentley's designs. The death of Mr. Brocket in the July fol∣lowing left another opening to the professorship which he had before unsuccessfully sought. Lord Bute however was not in office, and the Duke of Grafton, to preclude a request, within two days of the vacancy appointed Mr. Gray. Cambridge before

had been his residence from choice, it now became so from obligation, and the greater part of his time there was filled up by his old engagements or diverted to new ones. It has been suggested that he once embra∣ced the project of republishing Strabo, and there are reasons to believe that he meant it, as the many geo∣graphical disquisitions he left behind him appear to have been too minute for the gratification of general inquiry. The like observation may be transferred to Plato and the Greek Anthologia, as he had taken un∣common pains with both, and has left a ms. of the latter fit for the press. His design of favouring the publick with the history of English poetry may be spoken of with more certainty, as in this he had not only engaged with Mr. Mason as a colleague, but actually paraphrased the Norse and Welsh poems inserted in his Works for specimens of the wild spirit which animated the bards of ancient days. The exten∣sive compass however of the subject, and the knowledge that it was also in the hands of Mr. Warton, induced him to relinquish what he had thus successfully begun. Nor did his love for the antiquities of his country con∣fine his researches to its poetry alone: the structures of our ancestors and their various improvements particu∣larly engaged his attention. Hitherto there hath no∣thing so authentick and accurate on the subject of Go∣thick architecture appeared as the observations upon it drawn up by Mr. Gray, and inserted by Mr. Bentham in his Hist. of Ely. Of heraldry, its correlative science,

he possessed the entire knowledge. But of the various pursuits which employed his studies for the last ten years of his life none were so acceptable as those which explained the economy of Nature. For botany he ac∣quired a taste of his uncle when young; and the ex∣ercise which for the sake of improvement in this branch of the science he induced himself to take con∣tributed not a little to the preservation of his health. How considerable his improvements in it were those only can tell who have seen his additions to Hudson, and his notes on Linnaeus. While confined to zoology he successfully applied his discoveries to illustrate Ari∣stotle and others of the Ancients. From engagements of this kind Mr. Gray's attention was neither often nor long diverted. Excepting the time he gave up to experiments on flowers, for the purpose of investiga∣ting the process of vegetation, (which can scarcely be called a relaxation from his stated occupations) his on∣ly amusement was musick; nor was his acquaintance with this art less than with others of much more im∣portance. His skill was acquired from the produc∣tions of the best composers, out of whose works when in Italy he had made a selection. Vocal musick he chiefly preferred. The harpsichord was his favourite instrument, but though far from remarkable for a fi∣nished execution, yet he accommodated his voice so judiciously to his playing as to give an auditor con∣siderable pleasure. His judgment in statuary and painting was exquisite, and formed from an almost

instinctive perception of those graces beyond the reach of art in which the divine works of the great masters abound. As it was through the unsolicited favour of the Duke of Grafton that Mr. Gray was en∣abled to follow the bent of his own inclination in the choice of his studies, we shall not be surprised to find, from a letter to Dr. Beattie, that gratitude prompted him to offer his firstling:

O Meliboee, Deus nobis haec otia fecit Nanque erit ille mihi semper Deus: illius aram Saepe tener nostris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus. Ille meas errare boves ut cernis, et ipsum Ludere quae vellem, calamo permisit agresti.

Accordingly on his Grace's being elected Chancellor of the University Mr. Gray, unasked, took upon him to write those verses which are usually set to musick on this occasion; and whatever the sarcastick Junius (notwithstanding his handsome compliment to the poet) might pretend, this was the offering of no ve∣nal Muse. The ode in its structure is dramatick, and it contains nothing of the complimentary kind which is not entirely suited to the characters employed. Not long after the bustle of the installation was over Mr. Gray made an excursion to the sequestered lakes of Westmoreland and Cumberland. The impressions he there received from the wonderful scenery that every where surrounded him he transmitted to his friend Dr. Wharton in epistolary journals, with all the wild∣ness of Salvator and the softness of Claude. Writing in May 1771 to the same friend, he complains of a

violent cough which had troubled him for three months, and which he called incurable, adding, that till this year he never knew what (mechancial) low spirits were. One circumstance that without doubt contributed to the latter complaint was the anxiety he felt from holding as a sinecure an office the du∣ties of which he thought himself bound to perform. The object of his professorship being twofold, and the patent allowing him to effect one of its designs by de∣puty, it is understood that he liberally rewarded for that purpose the teachers in the University of Italian and French. The other part he himself prepared to execute; but tho' the professorship was instituted in 1724, none of his predecessors had furnished a plan. Embarassed by this and other difficulties, and re∣tarded by ill health, the undertaking at length be∣came so irksome that he seriously proposed to relin∣quish the chair. Towards the close of May he remo∣ved from Cambridge to Town, after having suffered from flying attacks of an hereditary gout, to which he had long been subject, and from which a life of singular temperance could not protect him. In Lon∣don his indisposition having increased, the physician advised him to change his lodgings in Jermynstreet for others at Kensington. This change was of so much benefit that he was soon enabled to return to Cam∣bridge, from whence he meditated a journey to his friend Dr. Wharton, which he hoped might reestablish his health; but his intentions and hopes were delusive.

On the 24th of July 1771 a violent sickness came on him while at dinner in the College-hall; the gout had fixed on his stomach, and resisted all the powers of medicine. On the 29th he was seized by a strong convulsion, which the next day returned with addi∣tional force, and the evening after he expired. At the first seizure he was aware of his danger, and tho' sensible at intervals almost to the last, he betrayed no dread of the terrours of death.

To delineate his portrait in this place would be needless. The reader will acquire the best idea of his character if after perusing his life and his writings he will use his own memory a sa cylindrick mirror, and collect into one assemblage the scattered features. Of Mr Gray's religious opinions but little is known; there are however sufficient traces left to shew him a believer. To Lord Bolingbroke's atheism he hath written an answer. His sentiments of Lord Saftesbury cannot be mistaken; and both Voltaire and Hume he censures with freedom. In private life he was most respected by those who best knew him: his heart was benevolent and his hand liberal.

On his poems it will be needless to bestow praises, or to repel the attacks of envy and rancour. If Mr. Gray was not a poet of the first order there is no poe∣try existing; and if his bold expressions be nonsense, so are the best passages of Shakespeare and Milton, and the sublimest figures of divine inspiration.

THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF MR. THOMAS GRAY.

Extracted from the registry of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury.

IN the name of God. Amen. I Thomas Gray of Pem∣broke-hall in the University of Cambridge, being of sound mind and in good health of body, yet ignorant how long these blessings may be indulged me, do make this my Last Will and Testament in manner and form following. First, I do desire that my body may be deposited in the vault made by my late dear mo∣ther in the churchyard of Stoke-Pogeis, near Slough in Buckinghamshire, by her remains, in a coffin of seasoned oak, neither lined nor covered, and (unless it be very inconvenient) I could wish that one of my executers may see me laid in the grave, and distribute among such honest and industrious poor persons in the said parish as he thinks fit the sum of ten pounds in charity. Next, I give to George Williamson Esq. my second cousin by the father's side, now of Calcutta in Bengal, the sum of five hundred pounds reduced Bank annuities, now standing in my name. I give to Anna Lady Goring, also my second cousin by the father's side, of the county of Sussex, five hundred pounds re∣duced Bank annuities, and a pair of large blue and white old Japan china jars. Item, I give to Mary An∣trobus of Cambridge spinster, my second cousin by the mother's side, all that my freehold estate and house in the parish of St. Michael, Cornhill London, now

let at the yearly rent of sixty-five pounds, and in the occupation of Mr. Nortgeth perfumer, provided that she pay out of the said rent, by half-yearly payments, Mrs. Jane Olliffe, my aunt, of Cambridge, widow, the sum of twenty pounds per annum during her natural life; and after the decease of the said Jane Olliffe I give the said estate to the said Mary Antrobus, to have and to hold to her her heirs and assigns for ever. Further, I bequeath to the said Mary Antrobus the sum of six hundred pounds new South-sea annui∣ties, now standing in the joint names of Jane Olliffe and Thomas Gray, but charged with the payment of five pounds per annum to Graves Stokeley of Stoke-Pogeis in the county of Bucks, which sum of six hun∣dred pounds, after the decease of the said annuitant, does (by the will of Anna Rogers my late aunt) be∣long solely and entirely to me, together with all over∣plus of interest in the mean-time accruing. Further, if at the time of my decease there shall be any arrear of salary due to me from his Majesty's Treasury, I give all such arrears to the said Mary Antrobus. Item, I give to Mrs. Dorothy Comyns of Cambridge, my other second cousin by the mother's side, the sums of six hundred pounds old South-sea annuities, of three hundred pounds four per cent. Bank annuities conso∣lidated, and of two hundred pounds three per cent. Bank annuities consolidated, all now standing in my name. I give to Richard Stonehewer Esq. one of his Majesty's Commissioner's of Excise, the sum of five

hundred pounds reduced Bank annuities, and I beg his acceptance of one of my diamond rings. I give to Dr. Thomas Wharton, of Old Park in the Bishoprick of Durham, five hundred pounds reduced Bank an∣nuities, and desire him also to accept of one of my dia∣mond rings. I give to my servant, Stephen Hemp∣stead, the sum of fifty pounds reduced Bank annui∣ties, and if he continues in my service to the time of my death I also give him all my wearing apparel and linen. I give to my two cousins above-mentioned, Mary Antrobus and Dorothy Comyns, all my plate, watches, rings, china ware, bed linen and table li∣nen, and the furniture of my chambers at Cambridge not otherwise bequeathed, to be equally and amicably shared between them. I give to the Reverend William Mason, Precentor of York, all my books, manuscripts, coins, musick printed or written, and papers of all kinds, to preserve or destroy at his own discretion. And after my just debts and the expenses of my fune∣ral are discharged, all the residue of my personal e∣state whatsoever I do hereby give and bequeath to the said Reverend William Mason, and to the Reverend Mr. James Browne, President of Pembroke-hall Cam∣bridge, to be equally divided between them, desiring them to apply the sum of two hundred pounds to an use of charity concerning which I have already in∣formed them. And I do hereby constitute and appoint them, the said William Mason and James Browne, to be joint executers of this my Last Will and Testament.

And if any relation of mine, or other legatee, shall go about to molest or commence any suit against my said executers in the execution of their office, I do, as far as the law will permit me, hereby revoke and make void all such bequests or legacies as I had given to that person or persons, and give it to be divided between my said executers and residuary legatees, whose inte∣grity and kindness I have so long experienced, and who can best judge of my true intention and meaning. In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal this 2d day of July 1770.

THOMAS GRAY.

Signed, sealed, published, and declared, by the said Thomas Gray, the testator, as and for his Last Will and Testa∣ment, in the presence of us, who in his presence, and at his request, and in the presence of each other, have signed our names as witnesses hereto.

• RICHARD BAKER.
• THOMAS WILSON.
• JOSEPH TURNER.

Proved at London the 12th of August 1771, be∣fore the Worshipful Andrew Coltre Ducarel Doctor of Laws and Surrogate, by the oaths of the Reverend William Mason, Clerk, Master of Arts, and the Re∣verend James Browne, Clerk, Master of Arts, the exe∣cuters, to whom administration was granted, having been first sworn duly to administer.

• Deputy Registers.
  • JOHN STEVENS.
  • HENRY STEVENS.
  • GEO. GOSTLING, jun.

Notes

• * 1.1

  A money-scrlvener.
• * 1.2

  Here lieth the body of Richard West Esq. only son to the Right Hon. Richard West Esq. late Lord Chancellor of Ireland, who died the 1st of June 1742, in the 26th year of his age.
• † 1.3

  Hactenus haud segnis Naturae arcana retexi Musarum interpres, primusque Britanna per arva Romano liquidum deduxi flumine rivum. Cum Tu opere in medio, spes tanti et causa laborls, Linquis et aeternam fati te condis in umbram! Vidi egomet duro graviter concussa dolore Pectora, in alterius non unquam lenta dolorem; Et languere oculos vidi, et pallescere amantem Vultum, quo nunquam Pietas nisi rara, Fidesque, Altus amor Veri, et purum spirabat Honestum. Visa tamen tardi demùm inclementia morbi Cessare est, reducemque iterum roseo ore Salutem Speravi, atque unà tecum, dilecte Favoni! Credulus heu longos, ut quondam, fallere Soles: Heu spes nequicquam dulces, atque irrita vota! Heu maestos Soles, sine te quos ducere flendo Per desideria, et questus jam cogor inanes!

  At Tu, sancta anima, et nostri non indiga luctus, Stellanti templo, sincerique aetheris igne, Unde orta es, fruere; atque o si secura, nec ultra Mortalis, notos olim miserata labores Respectes, tenuesque vacet cognoscere curas; Humanam si fortè alta de sede procellam Contemplere, metus, stimulosque cupidinis acres, Gaudiaque et gemitus, parvoque in corde tumultum Irarum ingentem, et saevos sub pectore fluctus; Respice et has lacrymas, memori quas ictus amore Fundo, quod possum, juxtà lugere sepulchrum Dum juvat, et mutae vana haec jactare favillae.
• † 2.1

  The headpiece to the Long Story, exhibiting a view of Stoke-Pogeis church and mansion, was copied from a sketch by Mr. Gray. The Churchyard was the subject of his elegy.
• * 2.2

  Here sleep the remains of
  Dorothy Gray,
  widow, the careful tender mother
  of many children, one of whom alone
  had the misfortune to survive her.