version is necessarily excluded; but, on the contrary, if Dr. Watts is not to be censured for the non-performance of what he never undertook, neither is he to have that ascribed to him, which he never claimed; and when so large a portion of almost every psalm is omitted, and (however excellent) so much new, and extraneous matter added, candour must admit, that it is a violation of terms to call that a version, which, rightly denominated, is no other than a Collection of Hymns, or Divine Poems, founded upon the Psalms."

JAMES MERRICK, A. M.

Was born about the year 1718, was fellow of Trinity College, Oxford, and author of a translation of Tryphiodorus, and other works. His Annotations on the Psalms are much esteemed.

Mr. Merrick's paraphrase has been highly complimented, but will not, I think, stand the test of a close examination; *the strong sense, and sublime

"One of my objections to Merrick's Psalms (says Beattie) would be, if they are all like the specimen you favoured me with, their unnecessary and paraphrastical diffuseness." Life by Sir W. Forbes.

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beauties of the "* Sweet Psalmist of Israel," are miserably frittered away, in the flowery lines of our, author's version, and we look in vain for "+that divine simplicity, for the want of which nothing can compensate." Indeed, the tinsel, and frippery

* 2 Samuel, xxiii. 1.

66

My reader will thank me for laying before him the whole passage: Though the forms of elegance may be caught by imitation, its essence is in the mind. The sentiments which have received its stamp, shew the fineness of the mould in which they were cast. If it were allowable for a moment to adopt the poetical creed of the ancients, one would almost imagine, that the thoughts of a truly elegant writer were formed by Apollo, and attired by the Graces. It would seem, indeed, that language was at a loss to furnish a garb, adapted to their rank and worth; that judgment, fancy, taste, had all combined to adorn them, yet without impairing that divine simpli city, for the want of which nothing can compensate. For the graceful negligence of nature always pleases beyond the truest ornaments that art can devise. Indeed, they are then truest, when they approach the nearest to this negligence. To attain it, is the very triumph of art. The wise artist, therefore, always completes his studies in the great school of creation, where the forms of elegance lie scattered in an endless variety; and the writer, who wishes to possess some portion of that sovereign excellence, simplicity, even though he were an infidel, would have recourse to the Scriptures, and make them his model."

Mainwaring's elegant Dissertation, prefixed to his Sermons, p. 27.

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with which his poetry abounds induce one to conclude he had no taste for Dryden, or Pope, but had studied with success in that new school, which has produced the great empiric in English poetry, the late Dr. Darwin.

Mr. Merrick is further highly censurable for his very frequent use of a metre, extremely ill-adapted to the dignity of his subject; it has been nick-named by Pope the Namby-pamby, and the well-known song of Ambrose Philips,

“Busy, curious, thirsty fly,"

is an instance of it, familiar to every one of my readers. Cowley's having made choice of it for his Anacreontics, should have taught Mr. Merrick how little it could comport with the noble strains of David's lyre.

Mr. Merrick was a scholar, and a man of considerable diligence: long practice seems to have given him facility in making verses; but nature, I think, never designed him for a * poet. He died at Reading, in the year 1769, much and deservedly respected.

Sæpe enim audivi, poetam bonum neminem (id quod a Démocrito, et Platone in scriptis relictum esse dicunt) sine inflammatione animorum existere posse, et sine quodam afflatu quasi furoris.-De Oratore, Lib, ii.

2

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From his version I have selected several psalms, * and added a beautiful imitation of the 122d, which is to be found in Bishop Horne's Commentary on the Psalms. It is translated from a Latin ode, stated by the bishop to be the delicate cygnæan strain of Theodore Zuinger, but which * Mr. Beloe has lately restored to its rightful owner, that most elegant of paraphrasts, the learned and pious Buchanan.

Mr. Merrick often begins a psalm well, but, un“ : fortunately, falls off, as he proceeds; of this the 8th is a very beautiful and striking instance, and my reader may easily find many others.

The strictures, I have presumed to offer, on the poetry of Watts and Merrick, will, I doubt not, be thought severe by their respective admirers; they are generally considered as our two best versions, and as, in my opinion, they are both extremely faulty, I have endeavoured to point out some oftheir defects, to prevent their being inconsiderately adopted as models by future translators. Of Dr. Watts it has lately been said, that his qualifications for executing a version of the Psalms were of a very superior order, “whilst, by the compilers of the Biographical Dictionary, we are informed, that Mr. Merrick's is the best poetical translation of the

* Anecdotes of Literature.

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Psalms in the language." Such unqualified praise is, I think, one of the numerous proofs of that degeneracy of taste, which had been gaining upon us for several years, till the nervous lines of * Mr. Gifford, the admirable notes on the Pursuits of Literature, and the exquisite + Imitations of the Anti-Jacobin, pointed out to us with what gossomery strains we had too long been delighted. Thanks to these manly writers, symptoms of returning taste begin to appear, and sound, devoid of sense, no longer continues to charm: in prose, the excellent works of Barrow, and Jeremy Taylor are much sought after, and the most finished production of the immortal Bacon, his incomparable essays, have, within these late few years, passed through several editions; in poetry, Mr. Gifford's Massinger has been most favourably received, and a second edition of Mr. Todd's Milton has been called for; whilst Dryden, that mighty Master of the Song, has been edited

Baviad and Mæviad.

+ Loves of the Triangles, in particular.

He only is the Master, who keeps the mind in pleasing captivity; whose pages are perused with eagerness, and in hope of new pleasure are perused again; and whose conclusion is perceived with an eye of sorrow, such as the traveller casts upon departing day.

By his proportion of this predomination I will consent that