with those more extensive and highly-finished
productions, the _Castle of Indolence_ by Thomson, and the _Minstrel_ by
Beattie, is manifestly unjust"--and stupidly absurd. What Mr Horne means
by saying that Pope "avoided imitating the noble poetry of Chaucer for
sundry weighty reasons," is not apparent at first sight. It means,
however, that Pope _could_ not have done so--that the feat was beyond
his power. The author of the _Messiah_ and the _Eloise_ wrote tolerable
poetry of his own; and he knew how to appreciate, and to emulate, too,
some of the finest of Chaucer's. Why did Mr Horne not mention his
_Temple of Fame_? A more childish sentence never was written than "its
publication at the present day among his elegant works is a disgrace to
modern times, and to his high reputation." Pope's reputation is above
reproach, enshrined in honour for evermore, and modern times are not so
Miss Mollyish as to sympathize with such sensitive censorship of an
ingeniously versified peccadillo, at which our _avi_ and _proavi_ could
not choose but smile.

But Mr Horne, thinking, that in this case "the child is father of the
man," rates Pope as roundly for what he seems to suppose were the
misdemeanours of his manhood. "Of the highly-finished paraphrase, by Mr
Pope, of the 'Wife of Bath's Prologue,' and 'The Merchant's Tale,'
suffice it to say, that the licentious humour of the original being
divested of its _quaintness and obscurity_ (!) becomes yet more
licentious in proportion to the fine touches of skill with which it is
brought into the light. Spontaneous coarseness is made revolting by
meretricious artifice. Instead of keeping in the distance that which was
objectionable, by such shades in the modernizing as should have answered
to the _hazy appearance_ (!) of the original, it receives a clear
outline, and is brought close to us. An ancient Briton, with his long
rough hair and painted body, laughing and singing half-naked under a
tree, may be coarse, yet innocent of all intention to offend; but if the
imagination (absorbing the anachronism) can conceive him shorn of this
falling hair, his paint washed off, and in this uncovered stated
introduced into a drawing-room full of ladies in rouge and diamonds,
hoops and hair-powder, no one can doubt the injury thus done to the
ancient Briton. This is no unfair illustration of what was done in the
time of Pope," &c.

It may be "no unfair illustration," and certainly is no unludicrous one