in their own opiron, they have completed them. It is related of Virgil, that his custom as to pour out a great number of verses in the morning, and pass the day in retrenching exuberances and correcting inaccuracies. The method of Pope, as may be collected from his translation, was to write his first thoughts in his first words, and gradually to amplify, decorate, rectify, and refine them.

With such faulties, and such dispositions, he excelled every other writer in poetical pruence; he wrote in such a manner as might expose him to a few hazards. H used almost always the same fabric of verse ; and, indeed, by those few esays which he made of any other, he did not enlarge his reputation. Of ths uniformity the certain consequence was readiness and dexterity. By pepetual practice, language had in his mind a systematical arrangement; having always the same use for words, he had words so selected and combined as to be ready at his call. This increase of facility he confessed hinself to have perceived in the progress of his translation.

But what was yet of more importance, his effusions were always voluntary, and hissubjects chosen by himself. His independence secured him from drudging at a task, and labouring upon a barren topick: he never exchanged praie for money, nor opened a shop of condolence or congratulation. His pems, therefore, were scarce ever temporary. He suffered coronations and royal marriages to pass without a song, and derived no opportunities fom recent events, nor any popularity from the accidental disposition of his readers. He was never reduced to the necessity of soliciting the sun to fhne upon a birth-day, of calling the Graces and Virtues to a wedding, or of saying what multitudes have said before him. When he could produce nothing new, he was at liberty to be silent.

He is said to His publications were for the same reason never hasty. have sent nahing to the press till it had lain two years under his inspection: it is at least certain, that he ventured nothing without nice examination. He suffered he tumult of imagination to subside, and the novelties of invention to grow fainiliar. He knew that the mind is always enamoured of its own productions, and did not trust his first fondness. He consulted his friends, and listened with great willingness to criticism; and, what was of more importance, he consulted himself, and let nothing pass against his own judgment.

He professed to have learned his poetry from Dryden, whom, whenever an opportunity was presented, he praised through his whole life with unvaried liberality; and perhaps his character may receive some illustration, if he be compared with his mafter.

Integrity of understanding and nicety of discernment were not allotted in a less proportion to Dryden than to Pope. The rectitude of Dryden's mind was sufficiently shewn by the dismission of his poetical prejudices and the rejection of unnatural thoughts and rugged numbers. But Dryden never desired

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to apply all the judgment that he had. He wrote, ad professed to write, merely for the people; and when he pleased others, ae contented himself. He spent no time in struggles to rouse latent power; he never attemptedto make that better which was already good, nor cen to mend what he must have known to be faulty. He wrote, as he tellss, with very little consideration; when occasion or necessity called up him, he poured out what the present moment happened to supply, ad, when once it had passed the press, ejected it from his mind; for win he had no pecuniary interest, he had no further solicitude.

Pope was not content to satisfy; he desired to xcel, and therefore always endeavoured to do his best: he did not cou the candour, but dared the judgment of his reader, and, expecting no inulgence from others, he shewed none to himself. He examined lines an words with minute and punctilious observation, and retouched every par with indefatigable diligence till he had left nothing to be forgiven.

For this reason he kept his pieces very long in k hands, while he considered and reconsidered them. The only poems hich can be supposed to have been written with such regard to the times amight hasten their publication, were the two satires of "Thirty-eight;"which Dodsley told me, that they were brought to him by the author, tha they might be fairly co-' pied. "Almost every line," he said, "was then vitten twice over; I gave "him a clean transcript, which he sent some timafterwards to me for the press, with almoft every line written twice over second time."

His declaration, that his care for his works ceed at their publication, was not strictly true. His parental attention neveabandoned them; what he found amiss in the first edition, he silently coected in those that followed. He appears to have revised the "Iliad," ad freed it from some of its imperfections; and the "Essay on Criticism'eceived many improvements after its first appearance. It will seldom e found that he altered without adding clearness, elegance, or vigour. Poe had perhaps the jugdment of Dryden; but Dryden certainly wanted th diligence of Pope.

In acquired knowledge the superiority must be lowed to Dryden, whose education was more scholastick, and who beforee became an author had been allowed more time for study, with better mans of information. His mind has a larger range, and he collects his im;es and illustrations from a more extensive circumference of science. Drien knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local anners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive speculain; and those of Pope by minute attention. There is more dignity in thenowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of Pope.

Poetry was not the sole praise of either; f both excelled likewise in prose; but Pope did not borrow his prose fromhis predecessor. The style of Dryden is capricious and varied; that of Poe is cautious and uniform. Dryden

Dryden observes thenotions of his own mind; Pope constrains his mind to his own rules of coposition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid; Pope is always smoch, uniform, and gentle. Dryden's page is a natural field, rising into intualities, and diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe, and levelled by the rolle

Of genius, that pwer which constitutes a poet; that quality without which judgment is cd, and knowledge is inert; that energy which collects, combines, amplifies, nd animates; the superiority must, with some hesitation, be allowed to)ryden. It is not to be inferred that of this poetical vigour Pope had only little, because Dryden had more; for every other writer since Milto. mit give place to Pope; and even of Dryden it must be said, that, if he had brhter paragraphs, he has not better poems. Dryden's performances were alvys hasty, either excited by some external occasion, or extorted by domestk necessity; he composed without consideration, and published withoucorrection. What his mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursic, was all that he sought, and all that he gave. The dilatory caution of Pe enabled him to condense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and toecumulate all that study might produce, or chance might supply. If the ghts of Dryden therefore are higher, Pope continues longer on the wing. lof Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the heat is more regular nd constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation, and Pope never falls llow it. Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with perpetil delight.

This parallel will, hope, when it is well considered, be found just; and if the reader should spect me, as I suspect myself, of some partial fondness for the memory of Dden, let him not too hastily condemn me; for meditation and enquiry mr, perhaps, shew him the reasonableness of my de

termination.

THE Works of Popare now to be distinctly examined, not so much with attention to slight faus or petty beauties, as to the general character and effect of each performace.

It seems natural for young poet to initiate himself by Pastorals, which, not professing to imitat real life, require no experience; and, exhibiting only the simple operatiorof unmingled passions, admit no subtle reasoning or deep enquiry. Pope's pstorals are not however composed but with close thought; they have refeence to the times of the day, the seasons of the year, and the periods of human life. The last, that which turns the attention upon age and death, vas the author's favourite. To tell of disappointment and misery, to thicken the darkness of futurity, and perplex the labyrinth of uncertainty, hasbeen always a delicious employment of the poets.

His preference was probably just. I wish, however, that his fondness had not overlooked a line in which the Zephyrs are made to lament in silence.

To charge these pastorals with want of invention, is to require what was never intended. The imitations are so ambitiously frequent, that the writer evidently means rather to shew his literature than his wit. It is surely sufficient for an author of sixteen not only to be able to copy the poems of antiquity with judicious selection, but to have obtained sufficient power of language, and skill in metre, to exhibit a series of versification, which had in English poetry no precedent, nor has since had an imitation.

The design of "Windsor Forest" is evidently designed from " Cooper's "Hill," with some attention to Waller's poem on "The Park;" but Pope cannot be denied to excel his masters in variety and elegance, and the art of interchanging description, narrative, and morality. The objection made by Dennis is the want of plan, of a regular subordination of parts terminating in the principal and original design. There is this want in most descriptive poems, because as the scenes, which they must exhibit successively, are all subsisting at the same time, the order in which they are shewn, must by necessity be arbitrary, and more is not to be expected from the last part than from the first. The attention, therefore, which cannot be detained by suspence, must be excited by diversity, such as his poem offers to its reader.

But the desire of diversity may be too much indulged; the parts of "Windsor Forest" which deserves least praise are those which were added to enliven the stillness of the scene, the appearance of Father Thames, and the transfortnation of Lodona. Addison had in his "Campaign" derided the Rivers that "rise from their oozy beds" to tell stories of heroes; and it is therefore strange that Pope should adopt a fiction not only unnatural, but lately censured. The story of Lodona is told with sweetness; but a new metamorphosis is a ready and puerile expedient; nothing is easier than to tell how a flower was once a blooming virgin, or a rock an obdurate tyrant.

The "Temple of Fame" has, as Steele warmly declared, "a thousand beauties." Every part is splendid; there is great luxuriance of ornaments; the original vision of Chaucer was never denied to be much improved, the allegory is very skilfully continued, the imagery is properly selected, and learnedly displayed: yet, with all this comprehension of excellence, as its scene is laid in remote ages, and its sentiments, if the concluding paragraph be excepted, have little relation to general manners or common life, it never obtained much notice, but is turned silently over, and seldom quoted or mentioned with either praise or blame.

That the "Messiah" excels the "Pollio" is no great praise, if it be considered from what original the improvements are derived.

The "Verses on the Unfortunate Lady" have drawn much attention by the illaudable singularity of treating suicide with respect; and they must be allowed

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allowed to be written in some parts with vigorous animation, and in others with gentle tenderness; nor has Pope produced any poem in which the sense predominates more over the diction. But the tale is not skilfully told; it is not easy to discover the character of either the Lady or her Guardian. History relates that she was about to disparage herself by a marriage with an inferior; Pope praises her for the dignity of ambition, and yet condemns the uncle to detestation for his pride; the ambitious love of a niece may be opposed by the interest, malice, or envy of an uncle, but never by his pride. On such an occasion a poet may be allowed to be obscure, but inconsistency never can be right*.

The "Ode for St. Cecilia's Day" was undertaken at the desire of Steele: in this the author is generally confessed to have miscarried, yet he has miscarried only as compared with Dryden; for he has far outgone other com. petitors. Dryden's plan is better chosen; history will always take stronger hold of the attention than fable; the passions excited by Dryden are the pleasures and pains of real life, the scene of Pope is laid in imaginary existence; Pope is read with calm acquiescence, Dryden with turbulent delight; Pope hangs upon the ear, and Dryden finds the passes of the mind. Both the odes want the essential constituent of metrical compositions the stated recurrence of settled numbers. It may be alledged, that Pindar is said by Horace to have written numeris lege solutis; but as no such lax performances have been transmitted to us, the nieaning of that expression cannot be fixed: and perhaps, the like return might properly be made to a modern Pindarist, as Mr. Cobb received from Bentley, who, when he found his Criticisms upon a Greek Exercise, which Cobb had presented, refuted one after another by Pindar's authority, cried out at last," Pindar was a bold fellow, but thou art an impudent one."

If Pope's ode be particularly inspected, it will be found that the first stanza consists of sounds well chosen indeed, but only sounds.

The second consists of hyperbolical common-places, easily to be found, and perhaps without much difficulty to be as well expressed.

In the third, however, there are numbers, images, harmony, and vigour, not unworthy the antagonist of Dryden. Had all been like this-but every part cannot be the best.

The

• The account herein before given of this Lady and her catastrophe, cited by Johnson from Ruff head with a kind of acquiescence in the truth thereof, seems no other than might have been extracted from the verses themselves. I have in my possession a letter to Dr. Johnson, containing the name of the Lady, and a reference to a gentleman well known in the literary world for her history. Him I have seen; and from a memorandum of some particulars to the purpose communicated to him by a lady of quality, he informs me, that the unfortunate lady's name was Withinbury, corruptly pronounced Winbury; that she was in love with Pope, and would have married him; that her guardian, though she was deformed in her person, looking upon such a match as beneath her, sent her to a convent, and that a noose, and not a sword, put an end to her life. H.