LETTERS. [The first three letters have been preserved in the Tonson family.] Tonson, the publisher, is a great name in the annals of English typography; recalling the last days of Dryden, and the first dawn of Addison and Pope. It was for him that Dryden bound himself to furnish ten thousand verses for two hundred and fifty guineas, to be made three hundred upon publication of the second edition; and gave in as first instalment the imitations of Boccacio and Chaucer, better known as the Fables,"seven thousand five hundred verses more or less." The intercourse between the old poet and his publisher was not always of the most agreeable kind. Tonson was exacting, sharp in his bargains, and occasionally very rude in his manners. "Upon trial," says Dryden to him in one of his letters, “I find all your trade are sharpers, and you not more than others, therefore I have not wholly left you." (Dryden's Works, v. xviii. p. 125, Scott's ed.) In another letter he accuses him of paying in clipped money and brass shillings. One day Dryden wished something of the publisher which was refused. Dryden sent him the following lines ; "With leering looks, bull-faced and freckled fair, adding "tell the dog that he who wrote them can write more." The accommodation was granted without delay. Tonson was secretary to the Kit-cat clab, and was thus brought into the company of many eminent persons. His early intercourse with Addison seems to have been pleasant, though he is said afterwards to have entertained unfriendly feelings towards him. Speaking of him to Pope he said, "I always thought him a priest in heart." He was the publisher of Tickell's edition. Some of the drinking stories told of Addison, come from him. These letters are without the date of the year, but would seem from the allusion to Dryden's Virgil to have been written while that work was in progress, or between 1694 and 1697. They refer to a translation of Herodotus which was never completed.-G.] 7 DEAR SIR,-I was yesterday with Dr. Hannes, and communicated your request to him. I told him that Dr. Blackmore, Mr. Adams, Mr. Boyle and myself had engaged in it, and that you had gained a kind of promise from Dr. Gibbons, so that he could not plead want of time. The Doctor seemed particularly solicitous about the company he was to appear in, and would fain hear all the names of the translators. In short he told me that he did not know how to deny Mr. Tonson any request that he made, and therefore if you would desire it, he would undertake the last Muse. I would fain have you write to the Doctor and engage him in it, for his name would much credit the work among Us, and promote the sale. As for myself, if you remember I told you that I did not like my Polymnia, if therefore I can do you any service, I will if you please translate the eighth book, Urania, which if you will send me down, you need not fear any delays in the translation. I was walking this morning with Mr. Yalden, and asked him when we might expect to see Ovid "de arte Amandi" in English; he told me he thought you had dropped the design since Mr. Dryden's translation of Virgil had been undertaken, but that he had done his part almost a year ago, and had it lying by him, &c. I am afraid he had done little of it. . . . I believe a letter from you about it would set him at work. He takes care to convey my pieces of Herodotus to you. I am, sir, your humble servant. Feb. 12th. To Mr. Jacob Tonson, at the sign of the Judge's Dr. Hannes was residing as a practising physician at Oxford. He was a contributor to the Musæ Anglicanæ. b Us, at Oxford must be understood. II. TO MR. TONSON. DEAR SIR, I received your parcel about the beginning of last week, and not being able to find Dr. Hannes at home, have left his part with his servitor. I shall see him next week, and if I find it necessary, will let you know what he says. I shall have but little business about the latter end of Lent, and then will set about my Muse, which I will take care to finish by your time. . . . You shall have your Urania the beginning of this week, &c. III. TO MR. TONSON. I have been so very full of business since the receipt of your papers, that I could not possibly find time to translate them so soon as I desired. I have now almost finished them. Mr. Clay tells me he let you know the misfortune Polymnia met with upon the road. . . . .... Your discourse with me abont translating Ovid, made such an impression on me at my first coming down from London, that I ventured on the second book, which I turned at my leisure hours, and will give you a sight of it, if you will give yourself the trouble of reading it. He has so many silly stories with his good ones, that he is more tedious to translate than a better poet would be. But though I despair of serving you this way, I hope I may find out some other to show how much I am yours, &c. May 28th. IV. TO CHARLES MONTAGU, ESQ. [This gentleman, who afterwards was created Lord Halifax, was one of Addison's early patrons-(v. Macaulay's Essay, p.xxii. and Life by JohnBon, in the Lives of the Poets.) The letters dated from the continent, were written during his travels, and contain their own illustration.-G.] HONORED SIR-I am now in a place where nothing is more usual than for mean people to press into the presence and conversation of great men, and where modesty is so very scarce, that I think I have not seen a blush since my first landing at Calais, which I hope may in some measure excuse me for presuming to trouble you with a letter. However, if I may not be allowed to improve a little in the confidence of the country, I am sure I receive in it such effects of your favour in the civilities my Lord Ambassador has been pleased to show me, that I cannot but think it my duty to make you acquainted with them; I am sorry my travels have not yet furnished me with any thing else worth your knowledge. As for the state of learning, there is no book comes out at present that has not something in it of an air of devotion. Dacier has been forced to prove his Plato a very good Christian before he ventures upon his translation, and has so far complied with the taste of the age, that his whole book is overrun with texts of scripture, and the notion of pre-existence, supposed to be stolen from two verses of the prophets. Nay, the humour is grown so universal that it is got among the poets, who are every day publishing lives of saints and legends in rhyme. My imperfect acquaintance with the French tongue makes me incapable of learning any particular news of this nature, so that I must end my letter as I begun it, with my most humble acknowledgments for all your favours. I am, &c. To Charles Montagu, Esq., & Paris, August, 1699. V. [From the Guardian 101. Introductory Remarks.] SIR-Since I had the happiness to see you last, I have encountered as many misfortunes as a knight-errant. I had a fall into the water at Calais, and since that several bruises upon the land, lame post horses by day, and hard beds at night, with many other dismal adventures, Quorum animus meminisse horret, luctuque refugit. At which my memory with grief recoils. VIRG. EN. ii. 12. My arrival at Paris was at first no less uncomfortable, where I could not see a face nor hear a word that I ever met with before; so that my most agreeable companions have been statues and pictures, which are many of them very extraordinary; but what particularly recommends them to me is, that they do not speak French, and have a very good quality, rarely to be met with in this country, of not being too talkative. I am settled for some time at Paris. Since my being here I have made the tour of all the king's palaces, which has been I think the pleasantest part of my life. I could not believe it was in the power of art, to furnish out such a multitude of noble scenes as I there met with, or that so many delightful prospects could lie within the compass of a man's imagination. There is every thing done that can be expected from a prince who removes mountains, turns the course of rivers, raises woods in a day's time, and plants a village or town on such a particular spot of ground only for the bettering of a view. One would wonder to see how many tricks he has made the water play for his diversion. It turns itself into pyramids, triumphal arches, glass bottles, imi tates a fire-work, rises in a mist, or tells a story out of Æsop. VOL. II.-20 |