number of them as you and I fhall think fit, about Michaelmas next. In order to which (my dear friend) I beg you to be fo kind to me, as to be fevere to them; that the critics may be lefs fo; for I had rather be condemn'd by my friend in private, than expos'd to my foes in public, the critics, or common judges, who are made fuch by having been old offenders themselves. Pray, believe I have as much faith in your friendship and fincerity, as I have deference to your judgment; and as the best mark of a friend is telling his friend his faults in private, fo the next is concealing them from the public, 'till they are fit to appear. In the mean time I am not a little fenfible of the great kindness you do me, in the trouble you take for me, in putting my Rhimes in tune, fince good founds fet off often ill fenfe, as the Italian fongs, whofe good airs, with the worft words or meaning, make the best mufic; fo by your tuning my Welsh-harp, my rough fenfe may be the lefs offenfive to the nicer ears of those critics, who deal more in found than fenfe. Pray then take pity at once both of my readers and me, in shortning my barren abundance, and increafing their patience by it, as well as the obligations I have to you: And fince no madrigaller can entertain the head, unless he pleases the ear; and fince the crowded Opera's have left the bast Comedies with the leaft audiences, 'tis a fign found can prevail over fenfe; therefore foften my words, and strengthen my sense, and

Eris mihi magnus Apollo.

LETTER XXIV.

April 15, 1710.

I Receiv'd' your most extreme kind letter but juft

now. It found me over those papers you mention, which have been my employment ever fince Eafter-monday: I hope before Michaelmas to have discharg'd my tafk; which, upon the word of a friend, is the most pleafing one I could be put upon. Since you are so near going into Shropshire, (whither I fhall not care to write of this matter for fear of the miscarriage of any letters) I muft defire your leave to give you a plain and fincere account of what I have found from a more ferious application to them. Upon comparison with the former volume, I find much more repeated than I till now imagin'd, as well as in the prefent volume, which, if (as you told me laft) you would have me dash over with a line, will deface the whole copy extremely, and to a degree that (I fear) may displease you. I have every where mark'd in the margins the page and line, both in this and the other part. But if you order me not to cross the lines, or would any way elfe limit my commiffion, you will oblige me by doing it in your next letter; for I am at once equally fearful of fparing you, and of offending you by too impudent a correction. Hitherto however I have cross'd 'em fo as to be legible, because you bade me. When I think all the repetitions are ftruck out in a copy, I

fometimes find more upon dipping in the first volume, and the number increases fo much, that, I believe more fhortning will be requifite than you may be willing to bear with, unless you are in good earneft refolv'd to have no thought repeated. Pray, forgive this freedom, which as I must be fincere in this cafe, fo I could not but take; and let me know if I am to go on at this rate, or if you would prefcribe any other method.

I am very glad you continue your refolution of feeing me in my Hermitage this fummer; the fooner you return, the fooner 1 fhall be happy, which indeed my want of any company that is entertaining or efteemable, together with frequent infirmities and pains, hinder me from being in your abfence. 'Tis (I am fure) a real truth, that my fickness cannot make me quite weary of myfelf when I have you with me; and I fhall want no company but yours, when you are here.

You fee how freely and with how little care I talk rather than write to you: this is one of the many advantages of friendship, that one can fay to one's friend the things that ftand in need of pardon, and at the fame time be fure of it. Indeed I do not know whether or no the letters of friends are the worse for being fit for none else to read. 'Tis an argument of the trust repofed in a friend's good nature, when one writes fuch things to him as require a good portion of it. I have experienced yours fo often and fo long, that I can now no more doubt of the great

nefs of it, than I hope you do of the greatness of my affection, or of the fincerity with which

I am, &c.

YOU

LETTER XXV.

From Mr. WYCHERLEY.

April 27, 1710.

give me an account in your letter of the trouble you have undergone for me, in comparing my papers you took down with you, with the old printed volume, and with one another, of that bundle you have in your hands; amongft which, (you fay) you find numerous Repetitions of the fame thoughts and fubjects; all which, I must confefs, my want of memory has prevented me from imagining, as well as made me capable of committing: fince, of all figures, that of Tautology is the last I would ufe, or leaft forgive myfelf for. But feeing is believing; wherefore I will take some pains to examine and compare thofe papers in your hands with one another, as well as with the former printed copies, or books of my damn'd Mifcellanies; all which (as bad a memory as I have) with a little more pains and care I think I can remedy. Therefore I would not have you give yourself more trouble about them, which may prevent the pleasure you have, and may give the world in writing upon new

upon

fubjects of your own, whereby you will much better entertain yourself and others. Now as to your remarks the whole volume of my papers; all that I defire of you is to mark in the margin (without defacing the copy at all) either any repetition of words, matter, or fenfe, or any thoughts, or words too much repeated; which if you will be so kind as to do for me, you will fupply my want of Memory with your good one, and my deficiencies of fenfe, with the infallibility of yours; which if you do, you will moft infinitely oblige me, who almoft repent the trouble I have given you, fince fo much Now as to what you call freedom with me, (which you defire me to forgive) you may be affur'd I would not forgive you unless you did ufe it; for I am fo far from thinking your plainness an offence to me, that I think it a charity and an obligation; which I shall always acknowledge, with all fort of gratitude to you for it; who am, &c.

All the news I have to fend you is, that poor Mr. Betterton is going to make his Exit from the stage of this world, the Gout being gotten up into his head, and (as the Phyficians fay) will certainly carry him off fuddenly.