with the ways of the world, has in all probability less of interest ; and an old man, who may be weary of himself, less of self-love; fo the friendship between them is the more likely to be true, and unmixed with too much felf-regard. One may add to this, that fuch a friendship may be of greater use and advantage to both; for the old man will grow more gay and agreeable to please the young and the young man more discreet and prudent by the help of the old one: fo it may prove a cure of those epidemical diseafes of age and youth, fourness and madness. I hope you will not need many arguments to convince you of the poffibility of this; one alone abundantly fatisfies me, and convinces to the very heart: which is, that young as I am, and old as you are, I am your entirely affectionate, &c.

one;

*

I

LETTER IV.

June 23, 1705.

Should believe my felf happy in your good opinion, but that you treat me fo much in a ftyle of compliment. It has been obferved of women, that they are more subject in their youth to be touched with vanity, than men, on account of their being more generally treated this way; but the weakest women are not more weak, than that class of men who are thought to pique themselves upon their Wit. The world is never wanting, when a coxcomb is accomplishing himself, to help to give him the finishing ftroke. Every man is apt to think his neighbour over-stock'd with vanity, yet I cannot but fancy, there are certain times when moft people are in a difpofition of being informed; and 'tis incre

* Mr. Wycherley was at this time about feventy years old, Mr. Pope under feventeen.

dible what a vast good a little truth might do, spoken in fuch seafons. A fmall alms will do a great kindness, to people in extream neceffity.

I could name an acquaintance of yours, who would at this time think himself more obliged to you for the information of his faults, than the confirmation of his follies: If you would make those the subject of a letter, it might be as long as I could wish your letters always were. I do not wonder you have hitherto found fome difficulty (as you are pleased to say) in writing to me, fince you have always chofen the task of commending me: take but the other way, and I dare engage you will find none at all.

As for my verses which you praise so much, I may truly say they have never been the cause of any vanity in me, except what they gave me when they firft occafioned my acquaintance with you. But I have several times fince been in danger of this vice; as often, I mean, as I receiv'd any letters from you. 'Tis certain the greatest magnifying glasses in the world are a man's own eyes, when they look upon his own perfon; yet even in those, I cannot fancy my self fo extremely like Alexander the great, as you would perfuade me. If I must be like him, 'tis you will make me fo, by complimenting me into a better opinion of my self than I deserve: They made him think he was the son of Jupiter, and you affure me I am a man of parts. But is this all you can fay to my honour? you faid ten times as much before, when you call'd me your friend. your friend. After having made me believe I poffefs'd a fhare in your affection, to treat me with compliments and sweet sayings, is like the proceeding with poor Sancho Panca: they persuaded him that he enjoy'd a great dominion, and then gave him nothing to fubfift upon but wafers and marmalade. our days, the greatest obligation you can lay upon a Wit, is to make a fool of him. For as when madmen are found incurable, wife men give them their way, and please them as well as they

In

can ; so when those incorrigible things, Poets, are once irrecoverably be-mus'd, the best way both to quiet them, and secure your felf from the effects of their frenzy, is to feed their vanity; which indeed for the moft part is all that is fed in a Poet.

You may believe me, I could be heartily glad that all you say were as true apply'd to me, as it would be if apply'd to your felf, for feveral weighty reafons; but for none fo much, as that I might be to you what you deserve; whereas I can now be no more, than is confiftent with the small tho' utmost capacity of &c.

I

LETTER V.

Oct. 26, 1705.

Have now changed the scene from the town to the country; from Will's coffee-house to Windsor forreft, I find no other difference than this, betwixt the common town-wits and the downright country fools, that the first are pertly in the wrong, with a little more flourish and gayety, and the last neither in the right nor the wrong, but confirmed in a ftupid, fettled medium betwixt both. However, methinks these are most in the right, who quietly and easily refign themselves over to the gentle reign of dulnefs, which the Wits muft do at laft, tho' after a great deal of noise, and refiftance. Ours are a fort of modeft, inoffenfive people, who neither have sense nor pretend to any, but enjoy a jovial fort of dulness: They are commonly known in the world by the name of honeft, civil gentlemen: They live, much as they ride, at random; a kind of hunting life, pursuing with earneftness and hazard fomething not worth the catching, never in the way, nor out of it. I can't but prefer folitude to the compa

ny of all thefe; for tho' a man's felf may poffibly be the worst fellow to converse with in the world, yet one would think the company of a person whom we have the greatest regard to, and affection for, could not be very unpleasant. As a man in love with a mistress, defires no conversation but hers; so a man in love with himself, (as most men are) may be best pleased with his own. Befides, if the truest and most useful knowledge be the knowledge of our felves, folitude conducing moft to make us look into our felves, fhould be the most instructive ftate of life. We fee nothing more commonly, than men, who for the fake of the circumftantial part and meer outfide of life, have been half their days rambling out of their nature, and ought to be sent into folitude to study themselves over again. People are usually spoiled instead of being taught, at their coming into the world; whereas by being more converfant with Obscurity, without any pains, they would naturally follow what they were meant for. In a word, if a man be a coxcomb, folitude is his best school; and if he be a fool, it is his beft fanctuary.

These are good reasons for my own ftay here, but I wish I could give you any for your coming hither, except that I earnestly invite you. And yet I can't help faying I have fuffered a great deal of discontent that you do not come, tho' I fo little merit that you fhould.

I must complain of the shortness of your last. Those who have moft wit, like those who have moft money, are generally most fparing of either.

LET

I

LETTER VI.

From Mr. WY CHERLEY.

Feb. 5, 1705-6.

Have receiv'd your kind Letter, with my paper* to Mr. Dryden corrected. I own you have made more of it by making it lefs, as the Dutch are faid to burn half the spices they bring home, to inhance the price of the remainder, fo to be greater gainers by their lofs, (which is indeed my cafe now.) You have prun'd my fading lawrels of fome fuperfluous, fapless, and dead branches, to make the remainder live the longer; thus like your Master Apollo, are at once a poet and a phyfician.

Now, Sir, as to my impudent invitation of you to the town, your good nature was the firft caufe of my confident request; but excuse me, I muft (I fee) fay no more upon this fubject, fince I find you a little too nice to be dealt freely with; tho' you have given me some encouragement to hope, our friendship might be without shyness, or criminal modefty; for a friend like a mistress, tho' he is not to be mercenary to be true, yet ought not to refuse a friend's kindness because it is small or trivial. I have told you (I think) what a Spanish lady said to her poor, poetical gallant, that a Queen, if she had to do with a groom, would expect a mark of his kindness from him, tho' it were but his curry-comb. But you and I will dispute this matter when I am fo happy as to fee you here; and perhaps 'tis the only dispute in which I might hope to have the better of you.

Now, Sir, to make you another excufe for my boldness in in

The fame which was printed in the Year 1717, in a Miscellany of Bern. Lintot's, and in the Pofthumous Works of Mr. Wycherley, 1728.

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