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passage till he had read his version, which in- tion, business, and pleasure, all take their turns deed he has been sometimes suspected of using of retardation ; and every long work is lengthinstead of the original.

ened hy a thousand causes that can, and ten Notes were likewise to be provided, for the thousand that cannot, be recounted. Perhaps six volumes would have been very little more no extensive and multifarious performance was than six pamphlets without them. What the ever effected within the term originally fixed in mere perusal of the text could suggest, Pope the undertaker's mind. He that runs against wanted no assistance to collect or methodize ; time has an antagonist not subject to casualties. but more was necessary; many pages were to The encouragement given to this translation, be filled, and learning must supply materials to though report seems to have overrated it, was wit and judgment. Something might be gather- such as the world has not often seen. The subed from Dacier ; but no man loves to be indebted scribers were five hundred and seventy-five. to his contemporaries, and Dacier was accessi- The copies for which subscriptions were given ble to common readers. Eustathius was there were six hundred and fifty-four; and only six fore necessarily consulted. To read Eustathius, hundred and sixty were printed. For these of whose work there was then no Latin version, copies Pope had nothing to pay; he therefore I suspect Pope, if he had been willing, not to received, including the two hundred pounds a have been able; some other was therefore to be volume, five thousand three hundred and twenty found, who had leisure as well as abilities; and pounds four shillings without deduction, as the he was doubtless most readily employed who books were supplied by Lintot. would do much work for little money.

By the success of his subscription Pope was The history of the notes has never been traced. relieved from those pecuniary distresses with Broome, in his preface to his poems, declares which, notwithstanding his popularity, he had himself the commentator “in part upon the hitherto struggled. Lord Oxford had often Iliad ;” and it appears from Fenton's letter, pre- lamented his disqualification for public employserved in the Museum, that Broome was at first ment, but never proposed a pension. While the engaged in consulting Eustathius, but that after translation of “Homer” was in its progress, Mr. a time, whatever was the reason, he desisted; Craggs, then secretary of state, offered to proanother man, of Cambridge, was then employed, cure him a pension, which, at least during his who soon grew weary of the work; and a third, ministry, might be enjoyed with secrecy. This that was recommended by Thirlby, is now dis- was not accepted by Pope, who told him, howcovered to have been Jortin, a man since well ever, that if he should be pressed with want of known to the learned world, who complained money, he would send to him for occasional supthat Pope, having accepted and approved his plies. Craggs was not long in power, and was performance, never testified any curiosity to see never solicited for money by Pope, who disdainhim, and who professed to have forgotten the ed to beg what he did not want. terms on which he worked. The terms which With the product of this subscription, which Fenton uses are very mercantile: “I think at he had too much discretion to squander, he sefirst sight that his performance is very com-, cured his future life from want, by considerable mendable, and have sent word for him to finish annuities. The estate of the Duke of Buckingthe 17th book, and to send it with his demands ham was found to have been charged with five for his trouble. I have here enelosed the speci- hundred pounds a year, payable to Pope, which men; if the rest come before the return, I will doubtless his translation enabled him to purkeep them till I receive your order.”

chase. Broome then offered his service a second time, It cannot be unwelcome to literary curiosity which was probably accepted, as they had after that I deduce thus minutely the history of the wards a closer correspondence. Parnell contri- English “Iliad.” It is certainly the noblest verbuted the life of Homer, which Pope found so sion of poetry which the world has ever seen; harsh, that he took great pains in correcting it; and its publication must therefore be considerand by his own diligence, with such help as ed as one of the great events in the annals of kindness or money could procure him, in some-learning. what more than five years he completed his ver To those who have skill to estimate the excelsion of the “Iliad,” with the notes. He began lence and difficulty of this great work, it must it in 1712, his twenty-fifth year, and concluded be very desirable to know how it was performed, it in 1718, his thirtieth year.

and by what gradations it advanced to correctWhen we find him translating fifty lines a ness. Of such an intellectual process the knowdayfát is natural to suppose that he would have ledge has very rarely been attainable; but hapbrought his work to a more speedy conclusion. pily there remains the original copy of the The Iliad,” containing less than sixteen thou- “Iliad,” which being obtained by Bolingbroke sand verses, might have been despatched in less as a curiosity, descended from him to Mallet, than three hundred and twenty days, by fifty and is now, by the solicitation of the late Dr. verses in a day. The notes, compiled with the Maty, reposited in the Museum. assistance of his mercenaries, could not be sup Between this manuscript, which is written posed to require more time than the text. upon accidental fragments of paper, and the

According to this calculation, the progress of printed edition, there must have been an interPope may seem to have been slow; but the dis, mediate copy, that was perhaps destroyed as it tance is commonly very great between actual returned from the press. performances and speculative possibility. It is From the first copy I have procured a few natural to suppose, that as much as has been transcripts, and shall exhibit first the printed done to-day may be done to-morrow; but on the lines, distinguished by inverted commas; then morrow, some difficulty emerges, or 'some exter- those of the manuscripts, with all their varianal impediment obstructs. Indolence, interruptions. Those words which are given in italics


are cancelled in the copy, and the words Receive my gifts ; if mercy fails, get let my present placed under them adopted in their stead.

And fear the God that deals his darts around. The beginning of the first book stands thus :

avenging Phæbus, son of Jove. “ The wrath of Peleus' son, the direful spring “ The Greeks, in shouts, their joint aesent declare, or all the Grecian woes, O Goddess, sing,

The priest to reverence and release the fair.
That wrath which hurld to Pluto's glooiny reign Not so Atrides; he, with kingly pride,
The souls of mighty chiess untimely slain.”

Repuls'd the sacred Sire, and thus reply'd.”
The stern Pelides' rage, O Goddess, sing,

He said, the Greeks their joint assent declare, of all the woes of Greece the fatal spring,

The father said, the generous Greeks relent,

To accept the ransom, and release the fair ; That strew'd with warriors dead the Phrygian plain, Revere the priest, and speak their joint assent; heroes

Not so the tyrant, he, with kingly pride, And peopled the dark hell with heroes slain;

Atrides fillú the shady hell with chiefs untimely

Repulsed the sacred Sire, and thus replied.

(Not so the tyrant. Dryden.) " Whose limbs, unburied on the naked shore, Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore,

Of these lines, and of the whole first book, Since great Achilles and Atrides strove: Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove." I am told that there was yet a former copy,

more varied, and more deformed with interliWhose limbs, unburied on the hostile shore,

neations. Devouring dogs and greedy vultures tore, Since first Aurides and Achilles strove:

The beginning of the second book varies very Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of little from the printed page, and is therefore set Jove.

down without a parallel; the few differences do " Declare, o Muse, in what ill-fated hour,

not require to be elaborately displayed. Sprung the fierce strife, from what offended Pow'r? Latona's son a dire contagion spread,

“Now pleasing sleep had seald each mortal eys; And heap'd the camp with mountains of the dead ;

Stretch'd in their tents the Grecian leaders lie;

The inmortals slumber'd on their thrones above, The King of men his reverend priest defy'd,

All but the ever-watchful eye of Jove. And for the King's offence the people died.”

To honour Thetis' son he bends his care, Declare, o Goddess, what offended Pow'r

And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war.
Inflam’d their rage, in that ill-omen'd hour;

Then bids an empty phantom rise to sight,
fatal, hapless

And thus commands the vision of the night :
Phobus himself ihe dire debate procurid,

directs fierce

Fly bence delusive dream, and, light as air, To avenge the wrongs his injur'd priest endur'd;

To Agamemnon's royal ient repair ; For this the God a dire infection spread,

Bid him in arms draw forth the embattled train, And heap'd the camp with millions of the dead;

March all his legions to the dusty plain. The King of men the Sacred Sire defy'd,

Now tell the King 'tis given him to destroy

Declare ev'n now And for the King's offence the people died.

The lofty walls of wide-extended Troy; "For Chryses sought with costly gifts to gain

towers His capuve daughter from the Victor's chain;

For now no more the Gods with fale contend; Suppliant the venerable Father stands,

At Juno's suit the heav'nly factions end. Apollo's awful ensigns grace his hands;

Destruction horers o'er yon devoted wall By these he begs, and, lowly bending down,

hangs Extends the sceptre and the laurel crown."

And nodding Ilium waits the impending fall." For Chryses sought by presents to regain

Invocation to the catalogue of ships. costly gifts to gain His captive daughter from the Victor's chain!

“Say, Virgins, seated round the throne dirine, Suppliant the venerable Father stands,

All-knowing Goddesses ! immortal Nine ! Apollo's awful ensigns grac'd his hands.

Since Earth's wide regions, Heav'n's unmeasur'd By these he begs, and lowly bending down

height, The golden scepire and the laurel crown,

And Hell's abyss, hide nothing from your sight, Presents the sceptre

(We, wretched mortals! lost in doubis below, For these as ensigns of his God he bare,

But guess by rumour, and but boast we know,) The God that sents his golden shafts afar;

Oh! say what heroes, fir'd by thirst of fame, Then, low on earth, the venerable man,

Or urg'd by wrongs, to Troy's destruction came! Suppliant, before the brother kings began.

To count them all demands a thousand tongues,

A throat of brass, and adamantine lungs." “He sued to all, but chief implor'd for grace The brother kings of Atreus' royal race :

Now, Virgin Goddesses, immortal Nine ! Ye Kings and warriors, may your vows be crown'd,

That round Olympus' heav'nly summit shine, And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;

Who see through Heav'n and Earth, and Hell May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er,

profound, Safe to the pleasures of your native shore."

And all things know, and all things can resound !

Relate what armies sought the Trojan land, To all he sued, but chief implored for grace

What nations follow'd, and what chiefs command

3 The brother Kings of Atreus' royal race :

(For doubtful fame distracts man

below, Ye sons of Atreus, may your vows be crown'd,

And nothing can we tell and nothing know :) kings and warriors

Without your aid, to count the unnumber d train, Your labours, by the Gods be all your labours

A thousand mouths, a thousand tongues were vain. croron'd, So may the Gods your arms with conquest bless,

Book v. 0. 1.
And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;

“But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires,
And crown your labours with deseru'd success; Fills with her force, and warms with all her fires ;
May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er, Above the Greeks his deathless fame to raise,
Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.

And crown her hero with distinguish'd praise.

High on his helm celestial lightnings play, " But, oh! relieve a wretched parent's pain,

His beamy shield emits a living ray; And give Chryseis to these arms again;

The unwearied blaze incessant streams supplies, If inercy fail, yet let my present inove,

Like the red star that fires the autumnal skies." And dread avenging Phæbus, son of Jove."

But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires, But, oh! relieve a hapless parent's pain,

Fills with her rage, and warms with all her fres; And give my daughter to these arms again;


O'or all the Greeks decrees his fame to raise,

The valleys open, and the forests rise, Above the Greeks her warrior's fame to raise,

The vales appear, the rocks in prospect rise, his deathless

Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, And crown her hero with immortal praise :

All nature stands reveal'd before our eyes;

A flood of glory bursts from all the skies.
Bright from his beamy crest the lightnings play, The conscious shepherd, joyful at the sight,
High on

Eyes the blue vault, and numbers every light
From his broad buckler flash'd the living ray;

The conscious swains, rejoicing at the sighn High on his helm celestial lightnings play,

shepherds, gazing with delighé His beamy shield emite a living ray;

Eye the blue vault, and bless the vivid light, The Goddess with her breath the flames supplies,

glorious Bright as the star whose fires in Autumn rise;

useful Her breath divine thick streaming flames supplies, So many flames before the navy blaze, Bright as the star that fires the autumnal skies :

proud Dion The unwearied blaze incessant screams supplies, And lighten glimm'ring Xanthus with their rays; Like the red star that fires the autumnal skies:

Wide o'er the fields to Troy extend the gleams,

And tip the distant spires with fainter beams; " When first he rears his radiant orb to sight,

The long reflections of the distant fires And bath'd in ocean, shoots a keener light.

Gild the high walls, and tremble on the spires; Such glories Pallas on the chief bestow'd,

Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires;
Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flow'd;

A thousand fires, at distant stations, bright,
Onward she drives him, furious to engage,
Where the fight burns, and where the thickest rage."

Gild the dark prospect, and dispel the night.
When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight,

Of these specimens, every man who has cultiAnd gilds old Ocean with a blaze of light.

vated poetry, or who delights to trace the mind Bright as the star that fires the autumnal skies, from the rudeness of its first conceptions to the Fresh from the deep, and gilds the seas and skies; Such glories Pallas on her chief bestow'd,

elegance of its last, will naturally desire a greater Such sparkling rays from her bright armour flow'd : number ; but most other readers are already Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flow'd; tired, and I am not writing only to poets and Onward she drives him headlong to engage,

philosophers. furious Where the war bleeds, and where the fiercest rage.

The®“ Iliad” was published volume by vofight burns

thickest lume, as the translation proceeded; the four first « The sons of Dares first the combat sought,

books appeared in 1715. The expectation of A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault;

this work was undoubtedly high, and every In Vulcan's fane the father's days were led

man who had connected his name with criticism The sons to coils of glorious baule bred;"

or poetry was desirous of such intelligence as There lived a Trojan-Dares was his name,

might enable him to talk upon the popular topic, The priest of Vulcan, rich, yet void of blame ; Halifax, who, by having been first a poet and The song of Dares first the combat sought, A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault.

then a patron of poetry, had acquired the right

of being a judge, was willing to hear some books Conclusion of Book viii. 0. 687.

while they were yet unpublished. Of this re" As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,

hearsal Pope afterwards gave the following acO'er Heav'n's clear azure spreads her sacred light, count: When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,

“ The famous Lord Halifax was rather a preAnd not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene,

tender to taste than really possessed of it. When Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole ;

I had finished the two or three first books of my O'er the dark trens a yellower verdure shed,

translation of the Iliad,' that lord desired to And tip with silver every mountain's head;

have the pleasure of hearing them read at his Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,

house-Addison, Congreve, and Garth, were A flood of glory bursts from all the skies; The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight,

there at the reading. In four or five places, Lord Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful lighi.

Halifax stopped me very civilly, and with a So many flames before proud Ilion blaze,

speech each time of much the same kind, 'I beg And lighten glimm'ring Xanthus with their rays; The long reflections of the distant fires

your pardon, Mr. Pope: but there is something Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires. in that passage that does not quite please me. A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild,

Be so good as to mark the place, and consider it And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field.

a little

at your leisure. I am sure you can give Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend, Whose umber'd arms by fits thick flashes send;

it a little turn.' I returned from Lord Halifax's Loud neigh the coursers o'er the heaps of corn, with Dr. Garth, in his chariot; and, as we were And ardent warriors wait the rising morn."

going along, was saying to the doctor, that my As when in stillness of the silent night,

Tord had laid me under a great deal of difficulty As when the moon in all her lustre bright;

by such loose and general observations; that I As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, O'er Heav'n's clear azure sheds her silder light;

had been thinking over the passages almost pure spreads sacred

ever since, and could not guess at what it was As still in air the trembling lustre stood,

that offended his lordship in either of them, And o'er its golden border shoots a flood; When no loose gale disturbs the deep sereno,

Garth laughed heartily at my embarrassment;

said, I had not not been long enough acquaintnot a breath And no dim cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; ed with Lord Halifax to know his way yet ; that not a

I need not puzzle myself about looking those Around her silver throne the planets glow

places over and over when I got home. All And stars unnumber'd trembling beams bestow : Around her throne the vivid planets roll,

you need do (says he) is to leave them just as And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole ; they are ; call on Lord Halifax two or three Clear gleams of light o'er the dark trees are seen, months hence, thank him for his kind observa

o'er the dark trees a yellow sheds, tions on those passages, and then read them to O'ør the dark trees a yellower green they shed,


him as altered. I have known him much longer verdure

than you have, and will be answerable for the And tip with silver all the mountain


forest And tip with silver every mountain's head.

• Spence,

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event. I followed his advice; waited on Lord | ties were acknowledged, and who, having atHalifax some time after; said, I hoped he would tained that eminence to which he was himself find his objections to those passages removed; aspiring, had in his hands the distribution of read them to him exactly as they were at first literary fame. He paid court with sufficient and his lordship was extremely pleased with diligence by his prologue to “Cato,” by his them, and cried out, 'Ay, now they are perfectly abuse of Dennis, and with praise yet more direct, right; nothing can be better.'”

by his poem on the “Dialogues on Medals,” of It is seldom that the great or the wise suspect which the immediate publication was then inthat they are despised or cheated. Halifax, tended. In all this there was no hypocrisy; for thinking this a lucky opportunity of securing im- he confessed that he found in Addison something mortality, made some advances of favour and more pleasing than in any other man. some overtures of advantage to Pope, which he It may be supposed, that as Pope saw himself seems to have received with sullen coldness. favoured by the world, and more frequently comAll our knowledge of this transaction is derived pared his own powers with those of others, his from a single letter, (Dec. 1, 1714,) in which confidence increased and his submission lessenPope says, “I am obliged to you, both for the ed; and that Addison felt no delight from the favours you have done me, and those you intend advances of a young wit, who might soon conme. I distrust neither your will nor your me- tend with him for the highest place. Every mory, when it is to do good ; and if I ever be great man, of whatever kind be his greatness, come troublesome or solicitous, it must not be has among his friends those who officiously or out of expectation, but out of gratitude. Your insidiously, quicken his attention to offences, lordship may cause me to live agreeably in the heighten his disgust, and stimulate his resenttown, or contentedly in the country, which is ment. Of such adherents Addison doubtless rcally all the difference I set between an easy had many; and Pope was now too high to be fortune and a small one, It is indeed a high without them. strain of generosity in you to think of making

From the emission and reception of the prome easy all my life, only because I have been so posals for the “Iliad,” the kindness of Addison happy as to divert you some few hours ; but, if seems to have abated. Jervas the painter once I may have leave to add, it is because you think pleased himself, (Aug. 20, 1714,) with imagining me no enemy to my native country, there will that he had re-established their friendship; and appear a better reason; for I must of conse wrote to Pope that

Addison once suspected him quence be very much (as I sincerely am) yours, of too close a confederacy with Swift, but was &c."

now satisfied with his conduct. To this Pope These voluntary offers, and this faint accept- answered, a week after, that his engagements to ance, ended without effect. The patron was not Swift were such as his services in regard to the accustomed to such frigid gratitude; and the subscription demanded, and that the tories never poet fed his own pride with the dignity of inde- put him under the necessity of asking leave to be pendence. They probably were suspicious of grateful. " But,” says he, “ as Mr. Addison each other. Pope would not dedicate till he saw must be the judge in what regards himself, and at what rate his praise was valued; he would be seems to have no very just one in regard to me, "troublesome out of gratitude, not expectation.” so I must own to you I expect nothing but civiHalifax thought himself entitled to confidence; lity from him.” In the same letter he mentions and would give nothing unless he knew what he Philips, as having been busy to kindle animosity should receive. Their commerce had its begin-between them; but in a letter to Addison he exning in hope of praise on one side, and of money presses some consciousness of behaviour inaton the other, and ended because Pope was less tentively deficient in respect. eager of money than Halifax of praise. It is not of Swift's industry in promoting the sublikely that Halifax had any personal bene- scription, there remains the testimony of Kenvolence to Pope; it is evident that Pope looked net, no friend to either him

or Pope. on Halifax with scorn and hatred.

“Nov. 2, 1713, Dr. Swift came into the coffeeThe reputation of this great work failed in house, and had a bow from every body but me, gaining him a patron, but it deprived him of a who, I confess, could not but despise him. When friend. Addison and he were now at the head | I came to the antichamber to wait, before prayof poetry and criticism ; and both in such a state ers, Dr. Swift was the principal man of talk and of elevation, that, like the two rivals in the Ro- business, and acted as master of state, one could no longer bear an equal, Then he instructed a young nobleman that the nor the other a superior. Of the gradual abate best poet in England was Mr. Pope, (a papist,) ment of kindness between friends, the beginning who had begun a translation of Homer into is often scarcely discernible to themselves, and English verse, for which he must have them all the process is continued by petty provocations, subscribe : for, says he, the author shall not beand incivilities, sometimes peevishly returned, gin to print till I have a thousand guineas for him.” and sometimes contemptuously neglected, which About this time it is likely that Steele, who would escape all attention but that of pride, and was, with all his political fury, good natured drop from any memory but that of resentment and' officious, procured an interview between That the quarrel of these two wits should be mi- these angry rivals, which ended in aggravated nutely deduced, is not to be expected from a wri- malevolence. On this occasion, if the reports ter, to whom, as Homer says, “ nothing but be true, Pope made his complaint with frankness rumour has reached, and has no personal know- and spirit, as a man undeservedly neglected or ledge.”

opposed ; and Addison affected a contemptuous Pope doubtless approached Addison, when the unconcern, and, in a calm even voice, reproached reputation of their wit first brought them toge- Pope with his vanity, and telling him of the imther, with the respect due to a man whose abili- | provements which his early works had received

from his own remarks and those of Steele, said, | between us; and, to convince me of what he that he, being now engaged in public business, had said, assured me that Addison had encouhad no longer any care for his poetical reputa- raged Gildon to publish those scandals, and had tion, nor had any other desire, with regard to given him ten guineas after they were published. Pope, than that he should not, by tou much ar- The next day, while I was heated with what I rogance, alienate the public.

had heard, I wrote a letter to Mr. Addison, to let To this Pope is said to have replied with great him know that I was not unaequainted with this keenness and severity, upbraiding Addison with behaviour of his; that, if I was to speak severely perpetual dependence, and with the abuse of of him in return for it, it should be not in such a those qualifications which he had obtained at the dirty way; that I should rather tell him, himpublic cost, and charging him with mean endea-self, fairly of his faults, and allow his good vours to obstruct the progress of rising merit. qualities; and that it should be something in The contest rose so high that they parted at last the following manner; I then adjoined the first without any interchange of civility.

sketch of what has since been called my satire The first volume of Homer was (1715) in on Addison. Mr. Addison used me very civilly time published ; and a rival version of the first ever after."*

Iliad,” for rivals the time of their appearance The verses on Addison, when they were sent inevitably made them, was immediately printed, to Atterbury, were considered by him as the with the name of Tickell. It was soon perceived most excellent of Pope's performances; and the that among the followers of Addison, Tickell writer was advised, since he knew where his had the preference, and the critics and poets di- strength lay, not to suffer it to remain unemvided into factions. “I,” says Pope, have the ployed. town, that is, the mob, on my side; but it is not This year (1715) being, by the subscription, uncommon for the smaller party to supply by enabled to live more by choice, having persuaded industry what it wants in numbers. I appeal to his father to sell their estate at Binfield, he purthe people as my rightful judges, and, while they chased, I think only for his life, that house at are not inclined to condemn me, shall not fear Twickenham, to which his residence afterwards the high-flyers at Button's.” This opposition he procured so much celebration, and removed thiimmediately imputed to Addison, and com- ther with his father and mother. plained of it in terms sufficiently resentful to Here he planted the vines and the quincunx Craggs, their common friend.

which his verses mention; and being under the When Addison's opinion was asked. he de necessity of making a subterraneous passage to a clared the versions to be both good, but Tickell's garden on the other side of the road, he adorned the best that had ever been written; and some- it with fossil bodies, and dignified it with the times said that they were both good, but that title of a grotto, a place of silence and retreat, Tickell had more of Homer.

from which he endeavoured to persuade his Pope was now sufficiently irritated ; his repu- friends and himself that cares and passions could tation and his interest were at hazard, He once be excluded. intended to print together the four versions of A grotto is not often the wish or pleasure of Dryden, Maynwaring, Pope, and Tickell, that an Englishman, who has more frequent need to they might be readily compared, and fairly esti- solicit than exclude the sun; but Pope's excamated. This design seems to have been de- vation was requisite as an entrance to his garfeated by the refusal of Tonson, who was the den, and as some men try to be proud of their proprietor of the other three versions.

defects, he extracted an ornament from an inPope intended, at another time, a rigorous cri- convenience, and vanity produced a grotto where ticism of Tickell's translation, and had marked necessity enforced a passage. It may be frea copy, which I have seen, in all places that ap- quently remarked of the studious and specupeared defective. But, while he was thus medi- lative, that they are proud of trifles, and that tating defence or revenge, his adversary sunk be their amusements seem frivolous and childish; fore him without a blow; the voice of the pub- whether it be that men conscious of great repulic was not long divided, and the preference was tation think themselves above the reach of cenuniversally given to Pope's performance. sure, and safe in the admission of negligent in

He was convinced, by adding one circum- dulgences, or that mankind expect from elevated stance to another, that the other translation was genius a uniformity of greatness, and watch its the work of Addison himself; but if he knew it degradation with malicious wonder; like him in Addison's life time, it does not appear that he who, having followed with his eye an eagle into told it. He left his illustrious antagonist to be the clouds, should lament that she ever descended punished by what has been considered as the to a perch. most painful of all reflections, the remembrance While the volumes of his Homer were anof a crime perpetrated in vain.

nually published, he collected his former works The other circumstances of their quarrel were (1717) into one quarto volume, to which he prethus related by Pope:*

fixed a preface, written with great sprightliness * Philips seemed to have been encouraged to and elegance, which was afterwards reprinted, abuse me in coffee-houses and conversations; with some passages subjoined that he at first and Gildon wrote a thing about Wycherly, in omitted; other marginal additions of the same which he had abused both me and my relations kind he made in the later editions of his poems, very grossly. Lord Warwick himself told me Waller remarks, that poets lose half their praise, one day, that it was in vain for me to endeavour because the reader knows not what they have to be well with Mr. Addison; that his jealous blotted. Pope's voracity of fame taught him temper would never admit of a settled friendship

See however the Life of Addison in the “Biogrc. Spence.

phia Britannica,” last edition.-R.

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