"_It does not appear that the age thought his works worthy ofposterity, nor that this great poet himself levied any ideal tribute onfuture times, or had any further prospect than of present popularityand present profit. So careless was he, indeed, of fame, that, when heretired to ease and plenty, while he was yet little declined into thevale of years, and before he could be disgusted with fatigue ordisabled by infirmity, he desired only that in this rural quiet he whohad so long mazed his imagination by following phantoms might at lastbe cured of his delirious ecstasies, and as a hermit might estimate thetransactions of the world._"