being mentioned to be the eighth edition, makes the reflection evident, the Tragedy of Cato having just eight times (as he quaintly expreffes it) vifited the prefs. He has also endeavoured to show, that every particular paffage of the play alludes to fome fine part of tragedy, which he says, I have injudiciously and profanely abused *. Sir Samuel Garth's poem upon my Lord Clare's houfe, I believe, will be publifh'd in the Eafter-week.

Thus far Mr. Gay, who has in his letter foreftall'd all the fubjects of diverfion; unless it should be one to you to say, that I fit up till two a clock over Burgundy and Champagne; and am become fo much a rake, that I fhall be ashamed in a short time to be thought to do any fort of business. I fear I must get the gout by drinking; purely for a fashionable pretence to fit still long enough to translate four books of Homer. I hope you'll by that time be up again, and I may fucceed to the bed and couch of my predeceffor pray cause the stuffing to be repaired, and the crutches fhorten'd for me. The calamity of your gout is what all your friends, that is to say, all that know you, must share in; we defire you in your turn to condole with us, who are under a perfecution, and much afflicted with a diftemper which proves mortal to many poets, a Criticism. We have indeed fome relieving intervals of laughter (as you

*This curious piece was intitled, a compleat Key to the Whatd'ye-call-it, written by one Griffin a Player, affisted by Lewis Theobald.

know there are in some diseases) and it is the opinions of divers good gueffers, that the laft fit will not be more violent than advantageous; for poets affail'd by critics, are like men bitten by Tarantula's, they dance on fo much the fafter.

Mr. Thomas Burnet hath play'd the precursor to the coming of Homer, in a treatise call'd Homerides. He has fince risen very much in his criticisms, and, after affaulting Homer, made a daring attack upon the What-d'ye-call-it. Yet there is not a Proclamation iffued for the burning of Homer and the Pope by the common hangman; nor is the Whatd'ye-call-it yet filenced by the Lord Chamberlain.

*

Your &c.

LETTER XXX.

Mr. CONGREVE to Mr. Pop E.

May 6. Have the pleasure of your very kind letter. I have

I always been obliged to you for your friendship

`and concern for me, and am more affected with it, than I will take upon me to express in this letter. I do affure you there is no return wanting on my part, and am very forry I had not the good luck to see the Dean before I left the town: it is a great pleasure to me, and not a little vanity to think that he miffes me. As to my health, which you are so kind to * In one of his papers call'd The Grumbler.

4

enquire after, it is not worse than in London: I am almost afraid yet to fay that it is better, for I cannot reasonably expect much effect from these waters in fo short a time; but in the main they seem to agree with me. Here is not one creature that I know, which, next to the few I would chufe, contributes very much to my fatisfaction. At the fame time that I regret the want of your conversation, I please myfelf with thinking that you are where you first ought to be, and engaged where you cannot do too much. Pray give my humble fervice, and beft wishes to your good mother, I am forry you don't tell me how Mr. Gay does in his health; I should have been glad to have heard he was better. My young Amanuenfis, as you call him, I am afraid will prove but a wooden one: and you know ex quovis ligno, &c. You will pardon Mrs. R's pedantry, and believe me to be

Your &c.

P. S. By the inclosed you will fee I am like to be imprefs'd, and enroll'd in the lift of Mr. Curll's Authors; but, I thank God! I fhall have your company. I believe it high time you should think of administering another Emetic.

LETTERS

TO AND FROM

SEVERAL PERSONS.

From 1714 to 1721.

LETTER I.

The Rev. Dean BERKLEY to Mr. PoPE.

Leghorn, May 1, 1714.

S I take ingratitude to be a greater crime than

of being thought guilty of the latter, than not to return you my thanks for a very agreeable entertainment you just now gave me. I have accidentally met with your Rape of the Lock here, having never feen it before. Style, painting, judgment, fpirit, I had already admired in other of your writings; but in this I am charm'd with the magic of your invention, with all thofe images, allufions, and inexplicable beauties, which you raife fo furprisingly, and VOL. VIII.

T

at the fame time fo naturally, out of a trifle. And yet I cannot fay that I was more pleas'd with the reading of it, than I am with the pretext it gives me to renew in your thoughts, the remembrance of one who values no happiness beyond the friendship of men of wit, learning, and good-nature.

I remember to have heard you mention some halfform'd defign of coming to Italy. What might we not expect from a mufe that fings fo well in the bleak climate of England, if she felt the fame warm fun and breathed the fame air with Virgil and Horace?

There are here an incredible number of Poets, that have all the inclination, but want the genius, or perhaps the art of the Ancients. Some among them, who understand English, begin to relish our Authors; and I am informed, that at Florence they have tranflated Milton into Italian verfe. If one who knows fo well how to write like the old Latin poets, came among them, it would probably be a means to retrieve them from their cold, trivial conceits, to an imitation of their predeceffors.

As merchants, antiquaries, men of pleasure, &c. have all different views in travelling; I know not whether it might not be worth a Poet's while to travel, in order to store his mind with strong images of Nature.

Green fields and groves, flowery meadows and purling ftreams are no where in fuch perfection as in England: but if you would know lightfome days,