instance of Waller, by Atwood.
Wharton, after he became ennobled, did not drop the son of his old
friend. In him, during the short time he lived, Young found a patron,
and in his dissolute descendant a friend and a companion. The marquis
died in April, 1715. In the beginning of the next year the young marquis
set out upon his travels, from which he returned in about a
twelve-month. The beginning of 1717 carried him to Ireland; where, says
the Biographia, "on the score of his extraordinary qualities, he had the
honour done him of being admitted, though under age, to take his seat in
the house of lords."

With this unhappy character, it is not unlikely that Young went to
Ireland. From his letter to Richardson, on Original Composition, it is
clear he was, at some period of his life, in that country. "I remember,"
says he, in that letter, speaking of Swift, "as I and others were taking
with him an evening walk, about a mile out of Dublin, he stopped short:
we passed on; but perceiving he did not follow us, I went back and found
him fixed as a statue, and earnestly gazing upward at a noble elm, which
in its uppermost branches was much withered and decayed. Pointing at it,
he said, 'I shall be like that tree, I shall die at top.'" Is it not
probable, that this visit to Ireland was paid when he had an opportunity
of going thither with his avowed friend and patron[189]?

From the Englishman, it appears that a tragedy by Young was in the
theatre so early as 1713. Yet Busiris was not brought upon Drury-lane
stage till 1719. It was inscribed to the duke of Newcastle, "because the
late instances he had received of his grace's undeserved and uncommon
favour, in an affair of some consequence, foreign to the theatre, had
taken from him the privilege of choosing a patron." The dedication he
afterwards suppressed.

Busiris was followed, in the year 1721, by the Revenge. He dedicated
this famous tragedy to the duke of Wharton. "Your grace," says the
dedication, "has been pleased to make yourself accessory to the
following scenes, not only by suggesting the most beautiful incident in
them, but by making all possible provision for the success of the
whole."

That his grace should have suggested the incident to which he alludes,
whatever that incident might have been, is not unlikely. The last mental
exertion of the superannuated young man, in his quarters at Lerida, in
Spain, was some scenes of a tragedy on the story of Mary queen of