[149]. This cannot be totally denied;
but it must be remembered that "necessitas quod cogit defendit;" that
may be lawfully done which cannot be forborne. Time and place will
always enforce regard. In estimating this translation, consideration
must be had of the nature of our language, the form of our metre, and,
above all, of the change which two thousand years have made in the modes
of life and the habits of thought. Virgil wrote in a language of the
same general fabrick with that of Homer, in verses of the same measure,
and in an age nearer to Homer's time by eighteen hundred years; yet he
found, even then, the state of the world so much altered, and the demand
for elegance so much increased, that mere nature would be endured no
longer; and, perhaps, in the multitude of borrowed passages, very few
can be shown which he has not embellished.

There is a time when nations, emerging from barbarity, and falling into
regular subordination, gain leisure to grow wise, and feel the shame of
ignorance and the craving pain of unsatisfied curiosity. To this hunger
of the mind plain sense is grateful; that which fills the void removes
uneasiness, and to be free from pain for awhile is pleasure; but
repletion generates fastidiousness; a saturated intellect soon becomes
luxurious, and knowledge finds no willing reception till it is
recommended by artificial diction. Thus it will be found, in the
progress of learning, that in all nations the first writers are simple;
and that every age improves in elegance. One refinement always makes way
for another; and what was expedient to Virgil, was necessary to Pope.

I suppose many readers of the English Iliad, when they have been touched
with some unexpected beauty of the lighter kind, have tried to enjoy it
in the original, where, alas! it was not to be found. Homer, doubtless,
owes to his translator many Ovidian graces not exactly suitable to his
character; but to have added can be no great crime, if nothing be taken
away. Elegance is surely to be desired, if it be not gained at the
expense of dignity. A hero would wish to be loved, as well as to be
reverenced.

To a thousand cavils one answer is sufficient; the purpose of a writer
is to be read, and the criticism which would destroy the power of
pleasing must be blown aside. Pope wrote for his own age and his own
nation: he knew that it was necessary to colour the images and point the
sentiments of his author; he, therefore, made him g