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No courts he saw, no suits would ever try;
Nor dared an oath, nor hazarded a lie:
Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art,
No language but the language of the heart;
By nature honest, by experience wise,
Healthy by temp'rance and by exercise,
His life, though long, to sickness pass'd unknown;
His death was instant, and without a groan.

The education of our great author was attended with circumstances very singular, and some of them extremely unfavourable; but the amazing force of his genius fully compensated the want of any advan tage in his earliest instruction. He owed the knowledge of his letters to an aunt; and having learned very early to read, took great delight in it, and taught himself to write by copying after printed books, the characters of which he would imitate to great perfection. He began to compose verses farther back than he could well remember; and at eight years of age, when he was put under one Taverner, a priest, who taught him the rudiments of the Latin and Greek tongues at the same time, he met with Ogilby's Homer, which gave him great delight; and his was increased by Sandy's Ovid. The raptures which these authors, even in the disguise of such translations, then yielded him, were so strong, that he spoke of them with pleasure ever after. From Mr. Taverner's tuition he was sent to a private school at Twyford, near Winchester, where he continued about a year, and was then removed to another near Hyde Park Corner; but was so unfortunate as to lose under his two last masters what he had acquirod under the first.

While he remained at this school, being perinitted to go to the playhouse with some of his school fellows of a more advanced age, he was so charmed with dramatic representations, that he formed the translation of the Iliad into a play, from several of

he was,

the speeches in Ogilby's translation, connected with veroes of his own; and the several parts were per. forned by the upper boys of the school, except that of Ajax by the master's gardener. At the age of twelve our young poet went to his father, to reside at his house at Binfield, in Windsor Forest, where

for a few months, under the tuition of another priest, with as little success as before; so that he resolved now to become his own master, by reading those classic writers which gave him most entertainment; and by this method, at fifteen he gained a ready habit in the learned languages, to which he soon after added the French and Italian. Upon his retreat to the forest, he became first acquainted with the writings of Waller, Spenser, and Dryden; in the last of which he immediately found what he wanted, and the poems of that excellent writer were never out of his hands; they became his model, and from them alone he learned the whole magic of his versification.

The first of our author's compositions now extant in print, is an Ode on Solitude, written before he was twelve years old; which, considered as the production of so early an age, is a perfect master-piece ; nor need he be ashamed of it had it been written in the meridian of his genius; while it breathes the most delicate spirit of poetry, it at the same time demonstrates his love of solitude, and the rational pleasures which attend the retreats of a contented country life.

Two years after this he translated the First Book of Statius's Thebais, and wrote a copy of verses on Silence, in imitation of the Earl of Rochester's Poem on Nothing. Thus we find him no sooner capable of holding the pen than he employed it in writing Verses:

“He lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came." Though we have had frequent opportunity to ob serve that poets have given early displays of genius

yet we cannot recollect that amongst the inspired tribe one can be found who, at the age of twelve, could produce so animated an ode, or at the age of fourteen, translate from the Latin. It had been reported, indeed, concerning Mr. Dryden, that when he was at Westminster school, the master, who has as signed a poetical task to some of the boys of writing a paraphrase on our Saviour's miracle of turning wa. ter into wine, was perfectly astonished when young Dryden presented him with the following line, which he asserted was the best comment could be written

upon it:

The conscious water saw its God and blush'd.

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This was the only instance of an early appearance of genius in this great man, for he was turned of thirty before he acquired any reputation: an age in which Mr. Pope's was in its full distinction. The year following that in which Mr. Pope wrote

poem on Silence, he began an epic poem, entitled Alcander, which he afterwards very judiciously committed to the flames, as he did likewise a comedy and a tragedy, the latter taken from a story in the legend of St. Genevieve, both of these being the product of those early days; but his Pastorals, which were writ. ten in 1704, when he was only sixteen years of age, were esteemed by Sir William Trumbal, Mr Granville, Mr. Wycherley, Mr. Walsh, and other of his friends, too valuable to be condemned to the same fate.

The three great writers of pastoral dialogue, which Mr. Pope, in soine measure, seems to imitate, are Theocritus, Virgil, and Spenser; Mr. Pope is of opinion that Theocritus excels all others in nature and simplicity.

That Virgil, who copies Theocritus, refines on his original; and in all points in which judgment has the principal part, is much surerior to his master.

That among the moderns, their success has been greatest who have most endeavoured to make these ancients their pattern. The most considerable genius appears in the famous Tasso, and our Spenser. Tasso, in his Aminta, as far excelled all pastoral writers, as in his Gierusalemme, he has outdone the epic poets of his own country. But as this piece seems to have been the original of a new sort of poem, the pastoral comedy in Italy, it cannot so well be considered as a copy of the ancients. Spenser's Calender, in Mr. Dryden's opinion, is the most complete work of this kind which any nation has produced ever since the time of Virgil; but this he said before Mr. Pope's Pastorals appeared.

Mr. Walsh pronounces on our Shepherd's boy (as Mr. Pope called himself,) the following judgment, in a letter to Mr. Wycherley:

“ The verses are very tender and easy. The Author seems to have a particular genius for that kind of poetry, and a judgment that much exceeds the years you told me he was of. It is no flattery at all to say that Virgil had written nothing so good at his age. I shall take it as a favour if you will bring me acquainted with him; and if he will give himself the lrouble, any morning, to call at my house, I shall be very glad to read the verses with him, and give him my opinion of the particulars more largely than I can well do in this letter."

Thus early was Mr. Pope introduced to the acquaintance of men of genius, and so improved every advantage, that he made a more rapid progress towards a consummation in fame than any of our former English poets. His Messiah, his Windsor Fo. rest, (the first part of which was written at the same time with his pastorals) his Essay on Criticism in 1709, and his Rape of the Lock in 1712, established his poetical character in such a manner that he was called upon by the public voice to enrich oir lan. guage with the translation of the Iliad, which he be gan at twenty-five, and executed in five years. This was published for his own benefit, by subscription, the only kind of reward which he received for his writings, which do honour to our age and country, his religion rendering him incapable of a place, which the Lord Treasurer Oxford used to express his concern for, but without offering him a pension, as the Earl of Halifax and Mr. Secretary Craggs afterwards did, though Mr. Pope declined it.

The reputation of Mr. Pope gaining every day upon the world, he was caressed, flattered, and railed at, according as he was feared or loved by different persons. Mr. Wycherley was among the first authors of established reputation who contributed to advance his fame, and with whom he for some time lived in the most unreserved intimacy. This poet in nis old age, conceived a design of publishing his poems; and as he was but a very imperfect master of numbers, he intrusted his manuscripts to Mr. Pope, and submitted them to his corrections. The freedom which our young bard was under a necessity to use, in order to polish and refine what was in the original rough, unharmonious, and indelicate, proved disgustful to the old gentleman, then near seventy, who perhaps was a little ashamed that a boy at sixteen should so severely correct his works. Letters of dissatisfaction were written by Mr. Wycherley, and at last he informed him, in few words, that he was going out of town, without mentioning to what place, and did not expect to hear from him till he came back. This cold indifference extorted from Mr. Pope a protestation, that nothing should induce him ever to write to him again. Notwithstanding this peevish behaviour of Mr. Wycherley, occasioned by jealousy and infirmities, Mr. Pope preserved a constant respect and reverence for him while he lived, and after his death lamented him. In a letter

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