I muft expect an hundred attacks upon the publication of my Homer. Whoever in our times would be a profeffor of learning above his fellows, ought at the very first to enter the world with the conftancy and refolution of a primitive Chriftian, and be prepared to fuffer all fort of public perfecution. It is certainly to be lamented, that if any man does but endeavour to distinguish himself, or gratify others by his ftudies, he is immediately treated as a common enemy, inftead of being looked upon as a common friend; and affaulted as generally as if his whole defign were to prejudice the State or ruin the Public. I will venture to fay, no man ever rofe to any degree of perfection in writing, but thro' obftinacy, and an inveterate refolution against the ftream of mankind: So that if the world has received any benefit from the labours of the learned, it was in its own defpite. For when firft they effay their parts, all people in general are prejudiced against new beginners; and when they have got a little above contempt, then fome particular perfons, who were before unfortunate in their own attempts, are fworn foes to them, only because they fucceed.-Upon the whole, one may fay of the best writers, that they pay a fevere fine for their fame, which it is always. in the power of the most worthless part of mankind to levy upon them when they please.

I am, &c.

I

LETTER XX.

To Mr. JER V A S.

July 28, 1714.

Am juft enter'd upon the old way of life again,

fleep and mufing. It is my employment to revive the old of paft ages to the prefent, as it is yours to tranfmit the young of the prefent, to the future. I am copying the great mafter in one art, with the fame love and diligence with which the Painters hereafter will copy you in another.

Thus, I fhould begin my epiftle to you, if it were a Dedicatory one. But as it is a friendly letter, you are to find nothing mention'd in your own praise but what one only in the world is witnefs to, your particular good-natur'd offices to me.

I am cut out from any thing but common acknowledgements, or common difcourfe: The first you would take ill, though I told but half what I ought: fo in fhort the last only remains.

And as for the lat, what can you expect from a man who has not talk'd these five days? who is withdrawing his thoughts as far as he can, from all the present world, its cuftoms, and its manners, to be fully poffefs'd and abforpt in the paft? When people talk of going to Church, I think of facrifices and libations; when I fee the parfon, I addrefs him as Chryfes priest of Apollo; and instead of the Lord's prayer, I begin,

2

God of the filver Bow, &c.

While you in the world are concern'd about the Proteftant Succeffion, I confider only how Menelaus may recover Helen, and the Trojan war be put to a speedy conclufion. I never inquire if the queen be well or not, but heartily wish to be at Hector's funeral. The only things I regard in this life, are whether my friends are well? whether my Tranflation go well on whether Dennis be writing criticifms? whether any body will answer him, fince I don't? and whether Lintot be not yet broke?

I am, &c.

I

LETTER XXI.

To the fame.

Aug. 16, 1714.

Thank you for your good offices, which are numberless. Homer advances fo faft, that he begins to look about for the ornaments he is to appear in, like a modish modern author,

Picture in the front,

With bays and wicked rhyme upon't.

fo en

I have the greatest proof in nature at prefent of the amufing power of Poetry, for it takes me up tirely, that I scarce fee what paffes under my nofe, and hear nothing that is said about me. To follow poetry as one ought, one must forget father and mo

ther, and cleave to it alone. My Reverie has been fo deep, that I have scarce had an interval to think myself uneafy in the want of your company. I now and then just mifs you as I ftep into bed; this minute indeed I want extremely to fee you, the next I fhall dream of nothing but the taking of Troy, or the recovery of Brifeis.

I fancy no friendship is fo likely to prove lasting as ours, because, I am pretty fure, there never was a friendship of so easy a nature, We neither of us demand any mighty things from each other; what Vanity we have expects its gratification from other people. It is not I, that am to tell you what an Artist you are, nor is it you that are to tell me what a Poet I am; but 'tis from the world abroad we hope, (piously hope) to hear these things. At home we follow our bufinefs, when we have any ; and think and talk moft of each other when we have none. "Tis not unlike the happy friendship of a ftay'd man and his wife, who are seldom fo fond as to hinder the bufinefs of the house from going on all day, or fo indolent as not to find confolation in each other every evening. Thus well-meaning couples hold in amity to the laft, by not expecting too much from human nature; while romantic friendships, like violent loves, begin with difquiets, proceed to jealoufies, and conclude in animofities. I have lived to fee the fierce advancement, the fudden turn, and the abrupt period, of three or four of these enormous friendships, and am perfectly convinced of the truth

of a maxim we once agreed in, that nothing hinders the conftant agreement of people who live together, but merely vanity; a fecret infifting upon what they think their dignity of merit. and an inward expectation of fuch an Over-measure of deference and regard, as answers to their own extravagant false scale; and which no body can pay, because none but themselves can tell, exactly, to what pitch it amounts.

I am, &c.

I

LETTER XXII.

Mr. JERVAS to Mr. PoP E.

Aug. 20, 1714.

Have a particular to tell you at this time, which

pleases me fo much, that you must expect a more than ordinary alacrity in every turn. You know I could keep you in fufpenfe for twenty lines, but I will tell you directly, that Mr. Addifon and I have had a converfation, that it would have been worth your while to have been placed behind the wainscot, or behind fome half-length picture to have heard. He affur'd me, that he would make ufe not only of his intereft. but of his art to do you fome fervice; he did not mean his art of poetry, but his art at Court; and he is fenfible that nothing can have a better air for himself than moving in your favour, efpecially fince infinuations were fpread, that he did