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第277章 LEIGH HUNT(19)

Corner.Even the inmates of Grub Street, even the heroes of the Dunciad, were for once just to living merit.There can be no stronger illustration of the estimation in which Congreve was held than the fact that the English Iliad, a work which appeared with more splendid auspices than any other in our language, was dedicated to him.There was not a duke in the kingdom who would not have been proud of such a compliment.Dr.Johnson expresses great admiration for the independence of spirit which Pope showed on this occasion."He passed over peers and statesmen to inscribe his Iliad to Congreve, with a magnanimity of which the praise had been complete, had his friend's virtue been equal to his wit.Why he was chosen for so great an honour, it is not now possible to know." It is certainly impossible to know; yet we think it is possible to guess.The translation of the Iliad had been zealously befriended by men of all political opinions.The poet who, at an early age, had been raised to affluence by the emulous liberality of Whigs and Tories, could not with propriety inscribe to a chief of either party a work which had been munificently patronised by both.It was necessary to find some person who was at once eminent and neutral.It was therefore necessary to pass over peers and statesmen.Congreve had a high name in letters.

He had a high name in aristocratic circles.He lived on terms of civility with men of all parties.By a courtesy paid to him, neither the Ministers nor the leaders of the Opposition could be offended.

The singular affectation which had from the first been characteristic of Congreve grew stronger and stronger as he advanced in life.At last it became disagreeable to him to hear his own comedies praised.Voltaire, whose soul was burned up by the raging desire for literary renown, was half puzzled and half disgusted by what he saw, during his visit to England, of this extraordinary whim.Congreve disclaimed the character of a poet, declared that his plays were trifles produced in an idle hour, and begged that Voltaire would consider him merely as a gentleman."If you had been merely a gentleman," said Voltaire, "I should not have come to see you."Congreve was not a man of warm affections.Domestic ties he had none; and in the temporary connections which he formed with a succession of beauties from the green-room his heart does not appear to have been interested.Of all his attachments that to Mrs.Bracegirdle lasted the longest and was the most celebrated.

This charming actress, who was, during many years, the idol of all London, whose face caused the fatal broil in which Mountfort fell, and for which Lord Mohun was tried by the Peers, and to whom the Earl of Scarsdale was said to have made honourable addresses, had conducted herself, in very trying circumstances, with extraordinary discretion.Congreve at length became her confidential friend.They constantly rode out together and dined together.Some people said that she was his mistress, and others that she would soon be his wife.He was at last drawn away from her by the influence of a wealthier and haughtier beauty.

Henrietta, daughter of the great Marlborough, and Countess of Godolphin, had, on her father's death, succeeded to his dukedom, and to the greater part of his immense property.Her husband was an insignificant man, of whom Lord Chesterfield said that he came to the House of Peers only to sleep, and that he might as well sleep on the right as on the left of the woolsack.Between the Duchess and Congreve sprang up a most eccentric friendship.He had a seat every day at her table, and assisted in the direction of her concerts.That malignant old beldame, the Dowager Duchess Sarah, who had quarrelled with her daughter as she had quarrelled with every body else, affected to suspect that there was something wrong.But the world in general appears to have thought that a great lady might, without any imputation on her character, pay marked attention to a man of eminent genius who was near sixty years old, who was still older in appearance and in constitution, who was confined to his chair by gout, and who was unable to read from blindness.

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