ation to the Assignation_.

[28] In his Dedication of the Pastorals of Virgil to Hugh Lord Clifford,
he says: "I have no reason to complain of fortune, since, in the midst
of that abundance, I could not have chosen better than the worthy son of
so illustrious a father. He was the patron of my manhood, when I
flourished in the opinion of the world, though with small advantage to
my fortune, till he awakened the remembrance of my royal master. He was
that Pollio, or that Varus, _who introduced me to Augustus_."

[29] The elder Richardson has told a story, that Lord Buckhurst,
afterwards Earl of Dorset, was the first who introduced the "Paradise
Lost," then lying like waste paper in the bookseller's hands, to the
notice of Dryden. But this tradition has been justly exploded by Mr.
Malone, _Life of Dryden_, vol. i. p. 114. Indeed it is by no means
likely that Dryden could be a stranger to the very existence of a large
poem, written by a man of such political as well as literary eminence,
even if he had not happened, as was the case, to be personally known to
the author. [The various legends as to Dryden and "Paradise Lost,"
Dorset and "Paradise Lost," etc., are well handled by Professor Masson,
_Life of Milton_, vol. vi. pp. 628-635.--ED.]

[30] Dennis's Letters, quoted by Malone.

[31]
"With thee conversing, I forget all time,
All seasons, and their change; all please alike:
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds: pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glist'ning with dew: fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers, and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild: then, silent night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heaven, her starry train:
But neither breath of morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glist'ning with dew; nor fragrance after showers;
Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night,
With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon;
Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet."

"The variety of images in this passage is infinitely pleasing, and the
recapitulation of each particular image, with a little varying of the
expression, makes one of the finest turns of words that I have ever
seen; which I rather mention, because Mr. Dryden has sai