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Dr. Warton observes, that this Translation is superior to any of Dryden's. If, indeed, we compare Pope's Translations with those of any other writer, their fuperiority must be strikingly apparent. There is a finish in them, a correctness, a natural flow, and a tone of originality, added to a wonderful propriety and beauty of expreffion and language. The literary world has of late been gratified by some excellent Translations from the Classicks-of the Georgics, by Sotheby-Horace, by Boscawen-Juvenal, by Gifford-and Anacreon, by Moore; whose version, though not always quite faithful, is truly spirited and elegant.

If Pope ever fails, it is where he generalises too much This is particularly objectionable, where in the original there is any marked, distinct, and beautiful Picture: so, as it has been observed, Pope only says,

" Cupid for thee shall spread the swelling fail;" whereas in Ovid, Cupid appears before us in the very act of guiding, the veffel seated as the pilot, and with his tender HAND, (tenera manu) contracting, or letting flow, the fail. I need not point out another beauty in the original, the repetition of the word "Ipfe.?

ELOISA TO ABELARD.

O Abelard, ill-fated youth!
Thy tale shall justify this truth.
But well I weet, thy cruel wrong,
Adorns a nobler Poet's fong:
Dan Pope, for thy misfortune griev'd,
With kind concern and skill has weav'd
A filken web; and ne'er shall fade
Its colours; gently has he laid
The mantle o'er thy fad distress,
And Venus shall the texture bless.

PRIOR.

ARGUMENT.

ABELARD and Eloisa flourished in the twelfth century; they were two of the most distinguished persons of their age in learning and beauty, but for nothing more famous than for their unfortunate passion. After a long course of calamities, they re. tired each to a several Convent, and confecrated the remainder of their days to religion. It was many years after this separation, that a letter of Abelard's to a Friend, which contained the history of his misfortune, fell into the hands of Eloisa. This awakening all her tenderness, occafioned those celebrated letters (out of which the following is partly extracted) which give so lively a picture of the struggles of grace and nature, virtue and passion. POPE.

A Traveller who visited the Convent about the year 1768 (fee Annual Register) says, that its fituation and prospects by no means resemble Pope's beautiful and romantic description of it. Father St. Romain, the officiating Prieft, walked with him round the whole demesne. The Abbess, who was in her eighty-second year, defired to fee our Traveller, for she said she was his countrywoman, and allied to the extinct families of Lifford and Stafford. She was aunt to the then Duke de Rochfaulcault; and being fifth in fucceffion, as Abbess of that Convent, hoped it would become a kind of patrimony. We know, alas! what has fince happened both to her Family and her Convent! The community seemed to know but little of the afflicting story of their Founder. Little remains of the original building but a few pointed arches. In examining the tombs of these unfortunate lovers, he observed that Eloifa appeared much taller than Abelard. WARTON.

ELOISA TO ABELARD*.

IN these deep folitudes and awful cells,
Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ever-musing melancholy reigns ;
What means this tumult in a Vestal's veins ?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
Yet, yet I love! From Abelard it came,
And Eloïsa yet must kiss the name.

Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these lips in holy filence feal'd:
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguife,
Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd Idea lies:
O write it not, my hand-the name appears
Already written-wash it out, my tears!

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NOTES.

* However happy and judicious the fubject of this Epistle may be thought to be, as displaying the various conflicts and tumults between duty and pleasure, between penitence and passion, that agitated the mind of Eloisa; yet, we must candidly own, that the principal circumstance of distress is of so indelicate a nature, that it is with difficulty disguised by the exquisite art and address of the poet. The capital and unrivalled beauties of the poem arife from the ftriking images and descriptions of the Convent, and from the fentiments drawn from the mystical books of devotion, particularly Madame Guion and the Archbishop of Cambray. WARTON.

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