chief reason, why all translations fall short of their originals is, that the very constraint they are obliged to, renders them heavy and dispirited. "The great beauty of Homer's language, as I take it, consists in that noble simplicity which runs through all his works; (and yet his diction, contrary to what one would imagine consistent with simplicity, is, at the same time, very copious.) I don't know how I have run into this pedantry in a letter, but I find I have said too much, as well as spoken too inconsiderately; what farther thoughts I have upon this subject, I shall be glad to communicate to you, for my own improvement, when we meet; which is a happiness I very earnestly desire, as I do likewise some opportunity of proving how much I think myself obliged to your friendship, and how truly I am, sir, "Your most faithful, humble servant, "A. POPE." The criticism upon Pope's epitaphs, [151] which was printed in the Universal Visiter, is placed here, being too minute and particular to be inserted in the life. Every art is best taught by example. Nothing contributes more to the cultivation of propriety, than remarks on the works of those who have most excelled. I shall, therefore, endeavour, at this _visit_, to entertain the young students in poetry with an examination of Pope's epitaphs. To define an epitaph is useless; every one knows that it is an inscription on a tomb. An epitaph, therefore, implies no particular character of writing, but may be composed in verse or prose. It is, indeed, commonly panegyrical; because we are seldom distinguished with a stone but by our friends; but it has no rule to restrain or modify it, except this, that it ought not to be longer than common beholders may be expected to have leisure and patience to peruse. I. _On_ CHARLES, _earl of_ DORSET, _in the church of Wythyham, in Sussex_. Dorset, the grace of courts, the muse's pride, Patron of arts, and judge of nature, dy'd,-- The scourge of pride, though sanctify'd or great, Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state; Yet soft in nature, though severe his lay, His anger moral, and his wisdom gay. Blest satirist! who touch'd the mean so true, As show'd, vice had his hate and pity too. Blest courtier! who could king and country please, Yet sacred kept his friendship, and his ease. Blest peer! his great forefather's every grace Reflecting, and reflected on his race; Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets shine, And patriots still, or poets, deck the line.