The Destruction of Nineveh. Seaton prize, 1768.
The Gift of Tongues. Prize poem, 1767.
Collection of Poems. 4to. pr. 3s.
Town-Eclogues, 1772, 4to. 2s.
The Man of Family. A sentimental comedy, 1772, 1s. 6d.
His Eclogues were thought to be ingenious; and his style much improved in them: The Visionary, not unlike Mr. Jerningham's Nunnery, and Vestal.
In the Cambridge Chronicle of Saturday, May 21, 1774, was this paragraph:—
"On Wednesday sennight died after a short illness at Claybrooke in Leicestershire, the Rev. Charles Jenner, A.M. Rector of that place. He was son to the late Dr. Jenner, Archdeacon of Huntingdon, and was much esteemed as a gentleman of distinguished taste in every polite accomplishment."
I heard at Cambridge, May 20, 1774, that he had been at London, and at Vauxhall, and being of a consumptive constitution, caught cold, and went home ill. He was a good singer of catches, and performer at concerts, and much with Lord Sandwich. His father's imprudences, it is said, much hurt him. The Archdeacon run into debt with every one; lived long at Cambridge, and at last, about 1770, or 1771, was forced to leave England, and died at Boulogne, or thereabouts.
Mr. Charles Jenner was of an expensive turn; and had hurt his fortunes. Mr. Donald M'Kinnon of Aberdeen University, a native of the Isle of Skye, succeeded him, &c.
In the Cambridge Chronicle for Saturday, Dec. 23, 1774, is this Epitaph, &c.
"An elegant monument is erected in Claybrook Church, by a lady of very superior rank, to the memory of Mr. Charles Jenner, Vicar of that parish, author of Town-Eclogues, Louisa, &c. on which is the following inscription and epitaph:
To the memory of Charles Jenner Clerk, M.A.
Vicar of this parish,
Who died, May 11, 1774, aged 37.
Here in the earth's cold bosom lies entomb'd
A man, whose sense, by every virtue grac'd,
Made each harmonious Muse obey his lyre:
Nor shall th' erasing hand of powerful Time
Obliterate his name, dear to each tuneful breast,
And dearer still to soft humanity;
For of the sympathetic tear would start
Unbidden from his eye. Another's woe
He read; — and felt it as his own.
It is not flattery, nor Pride, that rais'd
To his remains this modest stone; nor yet
Did partial Fondness trace these humble lines;
But weeping Friendship, taught by Truth alone,
To give, if possible, in future days,
A faint idea to the race to come,
That here reposeth all the mortal part
Of one, who only liv'd to make his friends
And all the world regret he e'er should die.