his masters in variety and elegance, and the art of
interchanging description, narrative, and morality. The objection made
by Dennis is the want of plan, of a regular subordination of parts
terminating in the principal and original design. There is this want in
most descriptive poems, because, as the scenes, which they must exhibit
successively, are all subsisting at the same time, the order in which
they are shown must by necessity be arbitrary, and more is not to be
expected from the last part than from the first. The attention,
therefore, which cannot be detained by suspense, must be excited by
diversity, such as his poem offers to its reader.

But the desire of diversity may be too much indulged; the parts of
Windsor Forest which deserve least praise, are those which were added to
enliven the stillness of the scene, the appearance of Father Thames, and
the transformation of Lodona. Addison had in his Campaign derided the
rivers that "rise from their oozy beds" to tell stories of heroes; and
it is, therefore, strange that Pope should adopt a fiction not only
unnatural but lately censured. The story of Lodona is told with
sweetness; but a new metamorphosis is a ready and puerile expedient;
nothing is easier than to tell how a flower was once a blooming virgin,
or a rock an obdurate tyrant.

The Temple of Fame has, as Steele warmly declared, "a thousand
beauties." Every part is splendid; there is great luxuriance of
ornaments; the original vision of Chaucer was never denied to be much
improved; the allegory is very skilfully continued, the imagery is
properly selected, and learnedly displayed; yet, with all this
comprehension of excellence, as its scene is laid in remote ages, and
its sentiments, if the concluding paragraph be excepted, have little
relation to general manners or common life, it never obtained much
notice, but is turned silently over, and seldom quoted or mentioned with
either praise or blame.

That the Messiah excels the Pollio, is no great praise, if it be
considered from what original the improvements are derived.

The Verses on the unfortunate Lady have drawn much attention by the
illaudable singularity of treating suicide with respect; and they must
be allowed to be written, in some parts, with vigorous animation, and,
in others, with gentle tenderness; nor has Pope produced any poem in
which the sense predominates more over the diction. But the tale is not
skilfully told; it is not easy to dis