Books: Lives of the English Poets: Prior, Congreve, Blackmore, Pope
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Samuel Johnson >> Lives of the English Poets: Prior, Congreve, Blackmore, Pope
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When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight,
And bathed in ocean shoots a keener light,
Such glories Pallas on the chief bestowed,
Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flowed;
Onward she drives him, furious to engage,
Where the fight burns, and where the thickest rage.
When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight,
And gilds old ocean with a blaze of light,
Bright as the star that fires the autumnal skies,
Fresh from the deep, and gilds the seas and skies:
Such glories Pallas on her chief bestowed,
Such sparkling rays from his bright armour flowed,
Such sparkling rays from his bright armour flowed,
Onward she drives him headlong to engage,
furious
Where the war bleeds, and where the fiercest rage.
fight burns, thickest
The sons of Dares first the combat sought,
A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault;
In Vulcan's fane the father's days were led,
The sons to toils of glorious battle bred;
There lived a Trojan--Dares was his name,
The priest of Vulcan, rich, yet void of blame;
The sons of Dares first the combat sought,
A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault.
Conclusion of Book VIII. v. 687.
As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light,
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole:
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with silver every mountain's head:
Then shine the vales--the rocks in prospect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies;
The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.
So many flames before proud Ilion blaze,
And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays;
The long reflections of the distant fires
Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires.
A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild,
And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field;
Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend,
Whose umbered arms by fits thick flashes send;
Loud neigh the coursers o'er their heaps of corn,
And ardent warriors wait the rising morn.
As when in stillness of the silent night,
As when the moon in all her lustre bright,
As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O'er Heaven's clear azure sheds her silver light;
pure spreads sacred
As still in air the trembling lustre stood,
And o'er its golden border shoots a flood;
When no loose gale disturbs the deep serene,
not a breath
And no dim cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene;
not a
Around her silver throne the planets glow,
And stars unnumbered trembling beams bestow;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole:
Clear gleams of light o'er the dark trees are seen,
o'er the dark trees a yellow sheds
O'er the dark trees a yellower green they shed,
gleam
verdure
And tip with silver all the mountain heads
forest
And tip with silver every mountain's head.
The valleys open, and the forests rise,
The vales appear, the rocks in prospect rise,
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
All nature stands revealed before our eyes;
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies.
The conscious shepherd, joyful at the sight,
Eyes the blue vault, and numbers every light.
The conscious swains rejoicing at the sight,
shepherds gazing with delight
Eye the blue vault, and bless the vivid light.
glorious
useful
So many flames before the navy blaze,
proud Ilion
And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays,
Wide o'er the fields to Troy extend the gleams,
And tip the distant spires with fainter beams;
The long reflections of the distant fires
Gild the high walls, and tremble on the spires;
Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires;
A thousand fires at distant stations bright,
Gild the dark prospect, and dispel the night.
Of these specimens every man who has cultivated poetry, or who
delights to trace the mind from the rudeness of its first
conceptions to the elegance of its last, will naturally desire a
great number; but most other readers are already tired, and I am not
writing only to poets and philosophers.
The "Iliad" was published volume by volume, as the translation
proceeded. The four first books appeared in 1713. The expectation
of this work was undoubtedly high, and every man who had connected
his name with criticism or poetry was desirous of such intelligence
as might enable him to talk upon the popular topic. Halifax, who,
by having been first a poet, and then a patron of poetry, had
acquired the right of being a judge, was willing to hear some books
while they were yet unpublished. Of this rehearsal Pope afterwards
gave the following account:-
"The famous Lord Halifax was rather a pretender to taste than really
possessed of it. When I had finished the two or three first books
of my translation of the 'Iliad,' that lord desired to have the
pleasure of hearing them read at his house. Addison, Congreve, and
Garth were there at the reading. In four or five places Lord
Halifax stopped me very civilly, and with a speech each time of much
the same kind, 'I beg your pardon, Mr. Pope, but there is something
in that passage that does not please me. Be so good as to mark the
place, and consider it a little at your leisure. I am sure you can
give it a little turn.' I returned from Lord Halifax's with Dr.
Garth in his chariot, and as we were going along was saying to the
Doctor that my lord had laid me under a great deal of difficulty by
such loose and general observations; that I had been thinking over
the passages almost ever since, and could not guess at what it was
that offended his lordship in either of them. Garth laughed
heartily at my embarrassment: said I had not been long enough
acquainted with Lord Halifax to know his way yet; that I need not
puzzle myself about looking those places over and over when I got
home. 'All you need do,' says he, 'is to leave them just as they
are, call on Lord Halifax two or three months hence, thank him for
his kind observations on those passages, and then read them to him
as altered. I have known him much longer than you have, and will be
answerable for the event.' I followed his advice, waited on Lord
Halifax some time after; said I hoped he would find his objections
to those passages removed; read them to him exactly as they were at
first; and his lordship was extremely pleased with them, and cried
out, 'Ay, now they are perfectly right; nothing can be better.'"
It is seldom that the great or the wise suspect that they are
despised or cheated. Halifax, thinking this a lucky opportunity of
securing immortality, made some advances of favour and some
overtures of advantage to Pope, which he seems to have received with
sullen coldness. All our knowledge of this transaction is derived
from a single letter (December 1, 1714), in which Pope says, "I am
obliged to you, both for the favours you have done me and those you
intend me. I distrust neither your will nor your memory when it is
to do good; and if I ever become troublesome or solicitous, it must
not be out of expectation, but out of gratitude. Your lordship may
cause me to live agreeably in the town, or contentedly in the
country, which is really all the difference I set between an easy
fortune and a small one. It is indeed a high strain of generosity
in you to think of making me easy all my life, only because I have
been so happy as to divert you some few hours; but, if I may have
leave to add it is because you think me no enemy to my native
country, there will appear a better reason; for I must of
consequence be very much (as I sincerely am) yours, &c."
These voluntary offers, and this faint acceptance, ended without
effect. The patron was not accustomed to such frigid gratitude; and
the poet fed his own pride with the dignity of independence. They
probably were suspicious of each other. Pope would not dedicate
till he saw at what rate his praise was valued; he would be
"troublesome out of gratitude, not expectation." Halifax thought
himself entitled to confidence, and would give nothing unless he
knew what he should receive. Their commerce had its beginning in
hope of praise on one side and of money on the other, and ended
because Pope was less eager of money than Halifax of praise. It is
not likely that Halifax had any personal benevolence to Pope; it is
evident that Pope looked on Halifax with scorn and hatred.
The reputation of this great work failed of gaining him a patron but
it deprived him of a friend. Addison and he were now at the head of
poetry and criticism, and both in such a state of elevation that,
like the two rivals in the Roman State, one could no longer bear an
equal, nor the other a superior. Of the gradual abatement of
kindness between friends, the beginning is often scarcely
discernible to themselves, and the process is continued by petty
provocations, and incivilities sometimes peevishly returned, and
sometimes contemptuously neglected, which would escape all attention
but that of pride, and drop from any memory but that of resentment.
That the quarrel of these two wits should be minutely deduced is not
to be expected from a writer to whom, as Homer says, "nothing but
rumour has reached, and who has no personal knowledge."
Pope doubtless approached Addison, when the reputation of their wit
first brought them together, with the respect due to a man whose
abilities were acknowledged, and who, having attained that eminence
to which he was himself aspiring, had in his hands the distribution
of literary fame. He paid court with sufficient diligence by his
prologue to "Cato," by his abuse of Dennis, and with praise yet more
direct, by his poem on the "Dialogues on Medals," of which the
immediate publication was then intended. In all this there was no
hypocrisy for he confessed that he found in Addison something more
pleasing than in any other man.
It may be supposed that, as Pope saw himself favoured by the world,
and more frequently compared his own powers with those of others,
his confidence increased, and his submission lessened; and that
Addison felt no delight from the advances of a young wit, who might
soon contend with him for the highest place. Every great man, of
whatever kind be his greatness, has among his friends those who
officiously or insidiously quicken his attention to offences,
heighten his disgust, and stimulate his resentment. Of such
adherents Addison doubtless had many; and Pope was now too high to
be without them. From the emission and reception of the proposals
for the "Iliad," the kindness of Addison seems to have abated.
Jervas the painter once pleased himself (August 20,1714) with
imagining that he had re-established their friendship, and wrote to
Pope that Addison once suspected him of too close a confederacy with
Swift, but was now satisfied with his conduct. To this Pope
answered, a week after, that his engagements to Swift were such as
his services in regard to the subscription demanded, and that the
Tories never put him under the necessity of asking leave to be
grateful. "But," says he, "as Mr. Addison must be the judge in what
regards himself, and seems to have no very just one in regard to me,
so I must own to you I expect nothing but civility from him." In
the same letter he mentions Philips, as having been busy to kindle
animosity between them; but in a letter to Addison he expresses some
consciousness of behaviour, inattentively deficient in respect.
Of Swift's industry in promoting the subscription there remains the
testimony of Kennet, no friend to either him or Pope.
"November 2, 1713, Dr. Swift came into the coffee-house, and had a
bow from everybody but me, who, I confess, could not but despise
him. When I came to the antechamber to wait, before prayers, Dr.
Swift was the principal man of talk and business, and acted as
master of requests. Then he instructed a young nobleman that the
BEST POET IN ENGLAND was Mr. Pope (a papist), who had begun a
translation of 'Homer' into English verse, for which HE MUST HAVE
THEM ALL SUBSCRIBE: for, says he, the author SHALL NOT begin to
print till _I_ HAVE a thousand guineas for him."
About this time it is likely that Steele, who was, with all his
political fury, good-natured and officious, procured an interview
between these angry rivals, which ended in aggravated malevolence.
On this occasion, if the reports be true, Pope made his complaint
with frankness and spirit, as a man undeservedly neglected or
opposed; and Addison affected a contemptuous unconcern, and in a
calm, even voice reproached Pope with his vanity, and, telling him
of the improvements which his early works had received from his own
remarks and those of Steele, said that he, being now engaged in
public business, had no longer any care for his poetical reputation,
nor had any other desire with regard to Pope than that he should
not, by too much arrogance, alienate the public.
To this Pope is said to have replied with great keenness and
severity, upbraiding Addison with perpetual dependence, and with the
abuse of those qualifications which he had obtained at the public
cost, and charging him with mean endeavours to obstruct the progress
of rising merit. The contest rose so high that they parted at last
without any interchange of civility.
The first volume of "Homer" was (1715) in time published; and a
rival version of the first "Iliad," for rivals the time of their
appearance inevitably made them, was immediately printed, with the
name of Tickell. It was soon perceived that, among the followers of
Addison, Tickell had the preference, and the critics and poets
divided into factions. "I," says Pope, "have the town, that is, the
mob, on my side; but it is not uncommon for the smaller party to
supply by industry what it wants in numbers. I appeal to the people
as my rightful judges, and, while they are not inclined to condemn
me, shall not fear the high-flyers at Button's." This opposition he
immediately imputed to Addison, and complained of it in terms
sufficiently resentful to Craggs, their common friend.
When Addison's opinion was asked, he declared the versions to be
both good, but Tickell's the best that had ever been written; and
sometimes said that they were both good, but that Tickell had more
of "Homer."
Pope was now sufficiently irritated; his reputation and his interest
were at hazard. He once intended to print together the four
versions of Dryden, Maynwaring, Pope, and Tickell, that they might
be readily compared and fairly estimated. This design seems to have
been defeated by the refusal off Tonson, who was the proprietor of
the other three versions.
Pope intended, at another time, a rigorous criticism of Tickell's
translation, and had marked a copy, which I have seen, in all places
that appeared defective. But while he was thus meditating defence
or revenge, his adversary sunk before him without a blow; the voice
of the public was not long divided, and the preference universally
given to Pope's performance. He was convinced, by adding one
circumstance to another, that the other translation was the work of
Addison himself; but, if he knew it in Addison's lifetime, it does
not appear that he told it. He left his illustrious antagonist to
lie punished by what has been considered as the most painful of all
reflections--the remembrance of a crime perpetrated in vain. The
other circumstances of their quarrel were thus related by Pope:-
"Philips seemed to have been encouraged to abuse me in coffee-houses
and conversations, and Gildon wrote a thing about Wycherley, in
which he had abused both me and my relations very grossly. Lord
Warwick himself told me one day that it was in vain for me to
endeavour to be well with Mr. Addison; that his jealous temper would
never admit of a settled friendship between us; and, to convince me
of what he had said, assured me that Addison had encouraged Gildon
to publish those scandals, and had given him ten guineas after they
were published. The next day, while I was heated with what I had
heard, I wrote a letter to Mr. Addison, to let him know that I was
not unacquainted with this behaviour of his; that if I was to speak
severely of him in return for it, it should not be in such a dirty
way; that I should rather tell him himself fairly of his faults, and
allow his good qualities; and that it should be something in the
following manner. I then adjoined the first sketch of what has
since been called my satire on Addison. Mr Addison used me very
civilly ever after."
The verses on Addison, when they were sent to Atterbury, were
considered by him as the most excellent of Pope's performances; and
the writer was advised, since he knew where his strength lay, not to
suffer it to remain unemployed. This year (1715), being by the
subscription enabled to live more by choice, having persuaded his
father to sell their estate at Binfield, he purchased, I think only
for his life, that house at Twickenham to which his residence
afterwards procured so much celebration, and removed thither with
his father and mother. Here he planted the vines and the quincunx
which his verses mention; and being under the necessity of making a
subterraneous passage to a garden on the other side of the road, he
adorned it with fossil bodies, and dignified it with the title of a
grotto; a place of silence and retreat, from which he endeavoured to
persuade his friends and himself that cares and passions could be
excluded.
A grotto is not often the wish or pleasure of all Englishmen, who
has more frequent need to solicit than exclude the sun; but Pope's
excavation was requisite as an entrance to his garden; and, as some
men try to be proud of their defects, he extracted an ornament from
an inconvenience, and vanity produced a grotto where necessity
enforced a passage. It may be frequently remarked of the studious
and speculative, that they are proud of trifles, and that their
amusements seem frivolous and childish. Whether it be that men,
conscious of great reputation, think themselves above the reach of
censure, and safe in the admission of negligent indulgences, or that
mankind expect from elevated genius a uniformity of greatness, and
watch its degradation with malicious wonder, like him who, having
followed with his eye an eagle into the clouds, should lament that
she ever descended to a perch.
While the volumes of his "Homer" were annually published, he
collected his former works (1717) into one quarto volume, to which
he prefixed a preface, written with great sprightliness and
elegance, which was afterwards reprinted, with some passages
subjoined that he at first omitted. Other marginal additions of the
same kind he made in the later editions of his poems. Waller
remarks, that poets lose half their praise, because the reader knows
not what they have blotted. Pope's voracity of fame taught him the
art of obtaining the accumulated honour both of what he had
published, and of what he had suppressed. In this year his father
died suddenly, in his seventy-fifth year, having passed twenty-nine
years in privacy. He is not known but by the character which his
son has given him. If the money with which he retired was all
gotten by himself, he had traded very successfully in times when
sudden riches were rarely attainable.
The publication of the "Iliad" was at last completed in 1720. The
splendour and success of this work raised Pope many enemies that
endeavoured to depreciate his abilities. Burnet, who was afterwards
a judge of no mean reputation, censured him in a piece called
"Homerides" before it was published. Ducket likewise endeavoured to
make him ridiculous. Dennis was the perpetual persecutor of all his
studies. But whoever his critics were, their writings are lost, and
the names, which are preserved are preserved in the "Dunciad."
In this disastrous year (1720) of national infatuation, when more
riches than Peru can boast were expected from the South Sea, when
the contagion of avarice tainted every mind, and even poets panted
after wealth, Pope was seized with the universal passion, and
ventured some of his money. The stock rose in its price, and for a
while he thought himself the lord of thousands. But this dream of
happiness did not last long, and he seems to have waked soon enough
to get clear with the loss of what he once thought himself to have
won, and perhaps not wholly of that.
Next year he published some select poems of his friend Dr. Parnell,
with a very elegant dedication to the Earl of Oxford, who, after all
his struggles and dangers, then lived in retirement, still under the
frown of a victorious faction, who could take no pleasure in hearing
his praise. He gave the same year (1721) an edition of Shakespeare.
His name was now of so much authority that Tonson thought himself
entitled, by annexing it, to demand a subscription of six guineas
for Shakespeare's plays in six quarto volumes. Nor did his
expectation much deceive him, for, of seven hundred and fifty which
he printed, he dispersed a great number at the price proposed. The
reputation of that edition indeed, sunk, afterwards so low, that one
hundred and forty copies were sold at sixteen shillings each. On
this undertaking, to which Pope was induced by a reward of two
hundred and seventeen pounds twelve shillings, he seems never to
have reflected afterwards without vexation; for Theobald a man of
heavy diligence, with very slender powers, first, in a book called
"Shakespeare Restored," and then in a formal edition, detected his
deficiencies with all the insolence of victory; and as he was now
high enough to be feared and hated, Theobald had from others all the
help that could be supplied, by the desire of humbling a haughty
character. From this time Pope became an enemy to editors,
collators, commentators, and verbal critics, and hoped to persuade
the world that he miscarried in this undertaking only by having a
mind too great for such minute employment.
Pope in his edition undoubtedly did many things wrong, and left many
things undone; but let him not be defrauded of his due praise. He
was the first that knew, at least the first that told, by what helps
the text might be improved. If he inspected the early editions
negligently, he taught others to be more accurate. In his preface
he expanded with great skill and elegance the character which had
been given of Shakespeare by Dryden; and he drew the public
attention upon his works, which, though often mentioned, had been
little read. Soon after the appearance of the "Iliad," resolving
not to let the general kindness cool, he published proposals for a
translation of the "Odyssey," in five volumes, for five guineas. He
was willing, however, now to have associates in his labour, being
either weary with toiling upon another's thoughts, or having heard,
as Ruffhead relates, that Fenton and Broome had already begun the
work, and liking better to have them confederates than rivals. In
the patent, instead of saying that he had "translated" the
"Odyssey," as he had said of the "Iliad," he says that he had
"undertaken" a translation: and in the proposals, the subscription
is said to be not solely for his own use, but for that of "two of
his friends who have assisted him in his work."
In 1723, while he was engaged in this new version, he appeared
before the Lords at the memorable trial of Bishop Atterbury, with
whom he had lived in great familiarity, and frequent correspondence.
Atterbury had honestly recommended to him the study of the Popish
controversy, in hope of his conversion; to which Pope answered in a
manner that cannot much recommend his principles or his judgment.
In questions and projects of learning they agree better. He was
called at the trial to give an account of Atterbury's domestic life
and private employment, that it might appear how little time he had
left for plots. Pope had but few words to utter, and in those few
he made several blunders.
His letters to Atterbury express the utmost esteem, tenderness, and
gratitude. "Perhaps," says he, "it is not only in this world that I
may have cause to remember the Bishop of Rochester." At their last
interview in the Tower, Atterbury presented him with a Bible.
Of the "Odyssey" Pope translated only twelve books. The rest were
the work of Broome and Fenton: the notes were written wholly by
Broome, who was not over liberally rewarded. The public was
carefully kept ignorant of the several shares; and an account was
subjoined at the conclusion which is now known not to be true. The
first copy of Pope's books, with those of Fenton, are to be seen in
the Museum. The parts of Pope are less interlined than the "Iliad,"
and the latter books of the "Iliad" less than the former. He grew
dexterous by practice, and every sheet enabled him to write the next
with more facility. The books of Fenton have very few alterations
by the hand of Pope. Those of Broome have not been found, but Pope
complained, as it is reported, that he had much trouble in
correcting them. His contract with Lintot was the same as for the
"Iliad," except that only one hundred pounds were to be paid him for
each volume. The number of subscribers were five hundred and
seventy-four, and of copies eight hundred and nineteen, so that his
profit, when he had paid his assistants, was still very
considerable. The work was finished in 1723; and from that time he
resolved to make no more translations. The sale did not answer
Lintot's expectation, and he then pretended to discover something of
a fraud in Pope, and commenced or threatened a suit in Chancery.
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