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LETTER XVII.

OUR obfervation, that there is a fatality which attends the reputation of authors, as well as other human affairs, is undoubtedly juft. How elfe fhall we account for Milton's immortal poem lingering fo flowly into fame, while the most vapid productions of fome of his cotemporaries acquired an instant celebrity, as wide as it was ill-founded?

DUBOS has given us a curious theory of the manner in which works of merit attain their due reputation. His reflections, like thofe of other French critics, are fpecious without value, and maffy without folidity. Let us strike against them: perhaps the truth will fly out.

New productions,' fays he, are at first appreciated by judges of very different characters; people of the trade, and the public. They would be very foon eftimated at their 'juft

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juft value, if the public was as capable of
defending its opinion, and making it weigh
properly, as it knows how to take the just
'fide. But it has the eafinefs to allow its judg-
'ment to be embarraffed by perfons who pro-
'fefs the art to which the new production be-
longs. Thefe perfons are often apt to make
'a false report, for reafons which we will ex-
plain. They obfcure the truth in such a
'manner, that the public remains for fome
time in uncertainty, or in error. It does not
'know precisely what title the new work me-
"rits. The public remains undecided on the
queftion, if it is good, or bad, on the whole:
' and it even fometimes believes people of the
profeffion, who deceive it; but it only be-
'lieves them for a very fhort time.

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THAT first period being elapfed, the public ' appreciates a work at its juft value; and gives it the rank which it deferves, or condemns it to utter oblivion. It is never deceived, be'cause it judges difinterestedly, and because it judges by fentiment."

SUCH are the reflections of the Abbé du Bos, whom I will readily allow to be the most judicious of the French critics, if that is any praise. Truth is against them. Let us examine their justice by an illuftrious inftance.

PARADISE LOST was fold by John Milton to his bookseller on the twenty-seventh day of April 1667, during the witty and ingenious reign of Charles II. when Dryden was at the head of poetry and criticism. Did it inftantly aftonish the world as if a new fun had arifen? No. Three years paffed, changes of titles, and other bookselling arts, were employed ere a fmall impreffion could be fold, tho not one of the trade of poetry perplexed the public opinion. Dryden, who was at the head of that trade, was the first to perceive and to applaud its beauties. Criticism was the general pursuit of that age, which was fully as enlightened on that head as the prefent. What happened then would have happened now: in the year 1767 Milton's divine poem would have met exactly the fame reception as in 1667. And why? The answer is evident: the work was in a ftyle of poetry above the popular conception;

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and the judgment of true judges, tho it always, prevails, yet prevails with as much flowness as certainty.

In this lies the grand mistake of du Bos. He supposes the public judges for itself: it is always led by peculiar opinions, and the rectitude of its fentiments depends entirely upon thefuperiority of its leaders being founded in truth, or merely in fashion. By the public, I understand with him, people of some knowlege and fome reading. A man who reads for his amusement books in his own language, and can talk a little on what he reads, may afford a kind of abftract idea of what is meant by the public. Now I will venture to compute from real obfervation, that not 99 out of 100, who pretend to admire Milton, are capable of understanding that writer. Why then has he a place in their libraries? Because he is mentioned with high applaufe by writers of reputa

tion.

HAD not Addison written his fuperficial criticism on Milton, which is indeed adapted to the meanest capacity, other men of learning would

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would have brought him into vogue: for a fuperior poet is always the poet of the learned, before he is that of the public at large.

WITNESS the Comus, L'Allegro, Il Penserofo, the exquifite productions of the fame author; which remained a feast for the learned alone, for near a century after their publication. They were published in 1645, and were taken no notice of. The Comus, L'Allegro, Il Penferofo, were taken no notice of at a period when we fometimes find the tenth edition upon maffes of metrical nonfenfe that are now unknown to have exifted! Let the public after this judge for itself. A fecond edition of these divine poems did not appear till 1673; and even then they were not republifhed, because they were called for, but because they made a fizeable volume with his Paradife Regained, then first published.

WHAT is the reafon of fuch poems falling into filence? Is it not because thofe learned men who happened to fee and admire them had no opportunity of recommending them to public notice?

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