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ther mode of connexion equally specious may be found or made. Aristotle is praised for naming Fortitude first of the cardinal virtues, as that without which no other virtue can steadily be practised; but he might, with equal propriety, have placed Prudence and Justice before it, since without Pru. dence, Fortitude is mad; without Justice it is mis. chievous.
As the end of method is perspicuity, that series is sufficiently regular that avoids obscurity, and where there is no obscurity, it will not be difficult to discover method.
In “The Spectator” was published the Messiah, which he first submitted to the perusal of Steele, and corrected in compliance with his criticisms.
It is reasonable to infer, from his Letters, that the“ Verses on the Unfortunate Lady" were written about the time when his Essay was published. The lady's name and adventures I have sought with fruitless inquiry.*
I can therefore tell no more than I have learned from Mr. Ruffhead, who writes with the confidence of one who could trust his information. She was a woman of eminent rank and large fortune, the ward of an uncle, who, having given her a proper education, expected liko other guardians that she should make at least an equal match; and such he proposed to her, but found it rejected in favour of a young gentleman of inferior condition.
Having discovered the correspondence between the two lovers, and finding the young lady determined to abide by her own choice, he supposed that separation might do what can rarely be done by arguments, and sent her into a foreign country, where she was obliged to converse only with those from whom her uncle had nothing to fear.
Her lover took care to repeat his vows; but his
* See Gent. Mag. vol. li. p. 314.-N.
letters were intercepted and carried to her guar. dian, who directed her to be watched with still greater vigilance, till of this restraint she grew sọ impatient, that she bribed a woman servant to cure her a sword, which she directed to her heart,
From this account, given with evident intention to raise the lady's character, it does not appear that she had any claim to praise, nor much to compassion. She seems to have been impatient, violent, and ungovernable. Her uncle's power could not have lasted long; the hour of liberty and choice would have come in time. But her de. sires were too hot for delay, and she liked selfmurder better than suspense.
Nor is it discovered that the uncle, whoever he was, is with much justice delivered to posterity
a false Guardian;" he seems to have done only that for which a guardian is appointed; he endeavoured to direct his niece till she should be able to direct herself. Poetry has not often been worse employed than in dignifying the amorous fury of a raving girl.
Not long after, he wrote “The Rape of the Lock," the most airy, the most ingenious, and the most delightful of all his compositions, occasioned by a frolic of gallantry, rather too familiar, in which Lord Petre cut off a lock of Mrs. Arabella Fer. mor's hair. This, whether stealth or violence, was so much resented, that the coinmerce of the two fa. milies, before very friendly, was interrupted. Mr, Caryl, a gentleman who, being secretary to King James's queen, had followed his mistress into France, and who, being the author of “Sir Solo. mon Single," a comedy, and some translations, was entitled to the notice of a vit, solicited Pope to endeavour a reconciliation by a ludicrous poem, which might bring both the parties to a better tem, per. In compliance with Caryl's request, though his pame was for a long time narked only by the first and last letters, C-1, a poem of two cantos VOL. II.
was written (1711), as is said, in a fortnight, and sent to the offended lady, who liked it well enough to shew it; and, with the usual process of literary transactions, the author, dreading a surreptitious edition, was forced to publish it,
The event is said to have been such as was de. sired, the pacification and diversion of all to whom it related, except Sir George Brown, who complained with some bitterness, that, in the character of Sir Plume, he was made to talk nonsense. Whether all this be true I have some ubt; for at Pa ris, a few years ago, a niece of Mrs. Fermor, who presided in an English convent, mentioned Pope's work with very little gratitude, rather as an insult than an honour; and she may be supposed to have inherited the opinion of her family.
At its first appearance it was termed by Addison merum sal. Pope, however, saw that it was capable of improvement; and, having luckily contrived to borrow his machinery from the Rosicru. cians, imparted the scheme with which his head was teeming to Addison, who told him that his work, as it stood, was “a delicious little thing,” and gave him no encouragement to retouch it.
This has been too hastily considered as an instance of Addison's jealousy; for, as he could not guess the conduct of the new design, or the possi. bilities of pleasure comprised in a fiction of which there had been no examples, he might very reason. ably and kindly persuade the author to acquiesce in his own prosperity, and forbear an attempt which he considered as an unnecessary hazard.
Addison's counsel was happily rejected. Pope foresaw the future efflorescence of imagery then budding in his mind, and resolved to spare no art or industry of cultivation. The soft luxuriance of his fancy was already shooting, and all the gay varieties of diction were ready at his hand to colour and embellish it.
His attempt was justified by its success.
Rape of the Lock” stands forward, in the classes of literature, as the most exquisite example of ludicrous poetry. Berkeley congratulated him upon the display of powers more truly poetical than he had shewn before: with elegance of description, and justness of precepts, he had now exhibited boundless fertility of invention.
He always considered the intermixture of the machinery with the action as his most successful exertion of poetical art. He indeed. could never afterwards produce any thing of such unexampled excellence. Those performances which strike with wonder are combinations of skilful genius with happy casualty; and it is not likely that any felicity like the discovery of a new race of preterna. tural agents should happen twice to the same man.
Of this poem the author was, I think, allowed to enjoy the praise for a long time without disturb ance. Many years afterwards, Dennis published some remarks upon it, with very little force, and with no effect; for the opinion of the public was already settled, and it was no longer at the mercy of criticism,
About this time he published “The Temple of Fame,” which, as he tells Steele in their corre spondence, he had written two years before; that is, when he was only twenty-two years old, an early time of life for so much learning and so much observation as that work exhibits.
On this poem Dennis afterwards published some remarks, of which the most reasonable is, that some of the lines represent Motion as exhibited by Sculpture.
Of the epistle from “ Eloisa to Abelard,” I do not know the date. His first inclination to attempt a composition of that tender kind arose, as Mr. Savage told me, from his perusal of Prior's “Nutbrown Maid.” How much he has surpassed Prior's work it is not necessary to mention, when perhaps it may be said with justice, that he has excelled
every composition of the same kind. The mixture of religious hope and resignation gives an eleva. tion and dignity to disappointed love which images merely natural cannot bestow. The gloom of a convent strikes the imagination with far greater force than the solitude of a grove.
This piece was, however, not much his favourite in his latter years, though I never heard upon what principle he slighted it.
In the next year (1713) he published “Windsor Forest;" of which part was, as he relates, written at sixteen, about the same time as his Pastorals, and the latter part was added afterwards: where the addition begins, we are not told. The lines relating to the peace confess their own date. It is dedicated to Lord Lansdowne, who was then higb in reputation and influence among the tories; and it is said, that the conclusion of the poem gave great pain to Addison, both as a poet and a politician. Reports like this are always spread with boldness very disproportionate to their evidence. Why should Addison receive any particular disturbance from the last lines of “Windsor Forest ?" If contrariety of opinion could poison a politician, he would not live a day; and, as a poet, he must have felt Pope's force of geaius much more from many other parts of his works.
The pain that Addison might feel it is not likely that he would confess; and it is certain that the so well suppressed his discontent, that Pope now thought himself his favourite; for, having been consulted in the revisal of “Cato,” he introduced it by a Prologue; and, when Dennis published his Remarks, undertook, not indeed to vindicate, but to revenge his friend, by a"Narrative of the Frenzy of John Dennis."
There is reason to believe that Addison gave no encouragement to this disingenuous hostility; for,
says Pope, in a letter to him, “ind your opi.nion, that it is entirely to be neglected, would be