reputation: and, secondly, understand that Boileau had at no time any such
authority in England as to _make_ anybody's reputation; he had first
of all to make his own. A sure proof of this is, that Boileau's name was
first published to London, by Prior's burlesque of what the Frenchman had
called an ode. This gasconading ode celebrated the passage of the Rhine in
1672, and the capture of that famous fortress called _Skink_ ('le fameux
fort de'), by Louis XIV., known to London at the time of Prior's parody by
the name of 'Louis Baboon.' [8] _That_ was not likely to recommend Master
Boileau to any of the allies against the said Baboon, had it ever been
heard of out of France. Nor was it likely to make him popular in England,
that his name was first mentioned amongst shouts of laughter and mockery.
It is another argument of the slight notoriety possessed by Boileau in
England--that no attempt was ever made to translate even his satires,
epistles, or 'Lutrin,' except by booksellers' hacks; and that no such
version ever took the slightest root amongst ourselves, from Addison's day
to this very summer of 1847. Boileau was essentially, and in two senses,
viz., both as to mind and as to influence, _un homme borne_.

Addison's 'Blenheim' is poor enough; one might think it a translation from
some German original of those times. Gottsched's aunt, or Bodmer's wet-
nurse, might have written it; but still no fibs even as to 'Blenheim.' His
'enemies' did not say this thing against 'Blenheim' 'aloud,' nor his
friends that thing against it 'softly.' And why? Because at that time
(1704-5) he had made no particular enemies, nor any particular friends;
unless by friends you mean his Whig patrons, and by enemies his tailor and
co.

As to 'Cato,' Schlosser, as usual, wanders in the shadow of ancient night.
The English 'people,' it seems, so 'extravagantly applauded' this wretched
drama, that you might suppose them to have 'altogether changed their