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Why did I write? what sin to me unknown 125 Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame,

I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.

NOTES.

in his tenth epistle, has done the same in giving many amusing particulars of his father, family, and fortunes.

Ver. 118. Sir! you have an Eye.] It is remarkable, that, amongst the compliments on his infirmities and deformities, he mentions his eye, which was fine, sharp, and piercing. It was done to intimate, that flattery was as odious to him when there was some ground for commendation, as when there was none. W.

Ver. 127. As yet a child, &c.] He used to say, that he began to write verses farther back than he could remember. When he was eight years old, Ogilby's Homer fell in his way, and delighted him extremely; it was followed by Sandys' Ovid; and the raptures these then gave him were so strong, that he spoke of them with pleasure ever after. About ten, being at school at Hydepark-corner, where he was much neglected, and suffered to go to the comedy with the greater boys, he turned the transactions of the Iliad into a play, made up of a number of speeches from Ogilby's translation, tacked together with verses of his own. He had the address to persuade the upper boys to act it; he even prevailed on the Master's Gardener to represent Ajax, and contrived to have all the Actors dressed after the pictures in his favourite Ogilby. At twelve he went with his father into the Forest; and then got first acquainted with the Writings of Waller, Spenser, and Dryden; in the order I have named them. On the first sight of Dryden, he found he had what he wanted. His Poems were never out of his hands; they became his model: and from them alone he learnt the whole magic of his versification. This year he began an epic Poem; the same which Bp. Atterbury, long afterward, persuaded him to burn. Besides this, he wrote, in these early days, a Comedy and Tragedy, the latter taken from a story in the legend of St. Genevieve. They both deservedly underwent the same fate. As he began his Pastorals soon after, he used to say pleasantly, that he had literally followed the example of Virgil, who tells us, Cum canerem reges et prælia, etc. W.

All the circumstances of our Author's early life, mentioned in

I left no calling for this idle trade,

No duty broke, no father disobey'd.

130

The Muse but serv'd to ease some friend, not Wife,

To help me through this long disease, my Life,
To second, ARBUTHNOT! thy Art and Care,
And teach, the Being you preserv'd, to bear.

134

A. But why then publish? P. Granville the polite, And knowing Walsh, would tell me I could write;

NOTES.

this Note, were communicated by Mr. Spence to Dr. Warburton. The account of this matter, as it was delivered to me by Mr. Spence, was as follows: As they returned in the same carriage together from Twickenham, soon after the death of our Author, and joined in lamenting his death and celebrating his praises, Dr. Warburton said he intended to write his life; on which Mr. Spence, with his usual modesty and condescension, said, that he also had the same intentions; and had, from time to time, collected from Pope's own mouth, various particulars of his life, pursuits, and studies; but would readily give up to Dr. Warburton all his collections on this subject, and accordingly communicated them to him immediately.

Ver. 128. I lisp'd in numbers,]

From Ovid,

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'Sponte sua carmen numeros veniebat ad aptos,
Et quod conabar scribere, versus erat."

Ver. 130. no father disobey'd.] When Mr. Pope was yet a child, his father, though no Poet, would set him to make English verses. He was pretty difficult to please, and would often send the boy back to new-turn them. When they were to his mind, he took great pleasure in them, and would say, These are good rhymes. From Mr. Spence. W.

Ver. 131. not Wife,] These two words seem added merely for the verse, and are what the French call a cheville.

Ver. 135. But why then publish? To the three first names that encouraged his earliest writings, he has added other friends, whose acquaintance with him did not commence till he was a poet of established reputation. From the many commendations which Walsh, and Garth, and Grenville bestowed on his Pasto

Well-natur'd Garth inflam'd with early praise,
And Congreve lov'd, and Swift endur'd my lays;
The courtly Talbot, Somers, Sheffield, read,
Ev'n mitred Rochester would nod the head,

140

NOTES.

rals, it may fairly be concluded how much the public taste has been improved, and with how many good compositions our language has been enriched, since that time. When Gray published his exquisite ode on Eton College, his first publication, little notice was taken of it: but I suppose no critic can be found that will not place it far above Pope's Pastorals. On reading which ode a certain person exclaimed.

"Sweet Bard, who shunn'st the noise of Folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!

Thee oft the lonely woods among

I woo to hear thy evening song;

And think thy thrilling strains have power
To raise Musæus from his bower;

Or bid the tender Spenser come

From his lov'd haunt, fair Fancy's tomb."

See particularly that fine stanza,

"These shall the fury passions tear,
The vultures of the mind;"

and also,

"Yet ah! why should they know their fate?

Ver. 139. Talbot, &c.] All these were Patrons or Admirers of Mr. Dryden; though a scandalous libel against him, entitled Dryden's Satyr to his Muse, has been printed in the name of the Lord Somers, of which he was wholly ignorant.

These are the persons to whose account the Author charges the publication of his first pieces: persons, with whom he was conversant (and he adds beloved) at 16 or 17 years of age; an early period for such acquaintance. The catalogue might, be made yet more illustrious, had he not confined it to that time when he writ the Pastorals and Windsor Forest, on which he passes a sort of Censure in the lines following:

"While pure Description held the place of Sense," &c. P. Every word and epithet here used is exactly characteristical

And St. John's self (great Dryden's friends before)
With open arms receiv'd one Poet more.
Happy my studies, when by these approv'd!
Happier their Author, when by these belov'd!
From these the World will judge of men and books,
Not from the Burnets, Oldmixons, and Cooks. 146

Soft were my numbers; who could take offence
While pure Description held the place of Sense?
Like gentle Fanny's was my flow'ry theme,
A painted mistress, or a purling stream.

NOTES.

150

and peculiarly appropriated, with much art, to the temper and manner of each of the persons here mentioned; the elegance of Lansdown, the open free benevolence and candour of Garth, the warmth of Congreve, the difficulty of pleasing Swift, the very gesture (as I am informed) that Atterbury used when he was pleased, and the animated air and spirit of Bolingbroke.

Ver. 146. Burnets, &c.] Authors of secret and scandalous History. P.

Ibid. Burnets, Oldmixons, and Cooks.] By no means Authors of the same class; though the violence of party might hurry them into the same mistakes. But if the first offended this way, it was only through an honest warmth of temper, that allowed too little to an excellent understanding. The other two, with very bad heads, had hearts still worse.

W.

Ver. 148. While pure Description held the place of Sense ?] He uses pure equivocally, to signify either chaste or empty; and has given in this line what he esteemed the true Character of descriptive poetry, as it is called. A composition, in his opinion, as absurd as a feast made up of sauces. The office of a picturesque imagination is to brighten and adorn good sense; so that to employ it only in description, is like children's delighting in a prism for the sake of its gaudy colours; which, when frugally managed and artfully disposed, might be made to unfold and illustrate the noblest objects in nature. W.

Ver. 150.] A painted meadow, or a purling stream,] is a verse of Mr. Addison. P.

Ibid. A painted mistress, or a purling stream.] Meaning the Rape of the Lock, and Windsor-Forest. W.

Yet then did Gildon draw his venal quill;
I wish'd the man a Dinner, and sate still.
Yet then did Dennis rave in furious fret;
I never answer'd, I was not in debt.

If want provok'd, or madness made them print, 155
I wag'd no war with Bedlam or the Mint.

Did some more sober Critic come abroad; If wrong, I smil'd; if right, I kiss'd the Rod. Pains, reading, study, are their just pretence, And all they want is spirit, taste, and sense. Commas and points they set exactly right, And 'twere a sin to rob them of their mite. Yet ne'er one sprig of laurel grac'd these ribalds, From slashing Bentley down to piddling Tibalds:

160

NOTES.

Ver. 151. Yet then did Gildon] The unexpected turn in the second line of each of these three couplets, contains as cutting and bitter strokes of satire as perhaps can be written. It is with difficulty we can forgive our Author for upbraiding these wretched scribblers for their poverty and distresses, if we do not keep in our minds the grossly abusive pamphlets they published; and, even allowing this circumstance, we ought to separate rancour from reproof:

"Cur tam crudeles optavit sumere pœnas ?"

Ver. 163. Yet ne'er one sprig] Swift imbibed from Sir W. Temple, and Pope from Swift, an inveterate and unreasonable aversion and contempt for Bentley, whose admirable Boyle's Lectures, Remarks on Collins's Emendations of Menander and Callimachus, and Tully's Tuscal. Disp. whose edition of Horace, and, above all, Dissertations on the Epistles of Phalaris, (in which he gained the most complete victory over a whole army of wits,) all of them exhibit the most striking marks of accurate and extensive erudition, and a vigorous and acute understanding. He degraded himself much by his strange and absurd hypothesis of the faults which Milton's amanuensis introduced into that poem. But I have been informed that there was still an addi

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