title page, or I have forgotten it, that pronounced the poem to be
laudable, and full of good materials; but still he could have wished that
the materials had been put together in a more workmanlike manner; which
kind office he set about himself. He made a general clearance of all
lumber: the expression of every thought he entirely re-cast: and he fitted
up the metre with beautiful patent rhymes; not, I believe, out of any
consideration for Dr. Johnson's comfort, but on principles of mere
abstract decency: as it was, the poem seemed naked, and yet was not
ashamed. There went No. 5. _Him_ succeeded a droller fellow than any
of the rest. A French book-seller had caused a prose French translation to
be made of the 'Paradise Lost,' without particularly noticing its English
origin, or at least not in the title page. Our friend, No. 6, getting hold
of this as an original French romance, translated it back into English
prose, as a satisfactory novel for the season. His little mistake was at
length discovered, and communicated to him with shouts of laughter; on
which, after considerable kicking and plunging (for a man cannot but turn
restive when he finds that he has not only got the wrong sow by the ear,
but actually sold the sow to a bookseller), the poor translator was tamed
into sulkiness; in which state ho observed that he could have wished his
own work, being evidently so much superior to the earliest form of the
romance, might be admitted by the courtesy of England to take the
precedency as the original 'Paradise Lost,' and to supersede the very rude
performance of 'Milton, Mr. John.' [7]

Schlosser makes the astounding assertion, that a compliment of Boileau to
Addison, and a pure compliment of ceremony upon Addison's early Latin
verses, was (_credite posteri!_) the making of Addison in England.
Understand, Schlosser, that Addison's Latin verses were never heard of by
England, until long after his English prose had fixed the public attention
upon him; his Latin reputation was a slight reaction from his English