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LETTER VIII.

Mr. POPE to ***

Dec. 12, 1718.

HE old project of a Window in the bofom, to render the Soul of man visible, is what every honest friend has manifold reason to wish for; yet even that would not do in our cafe, while you are so far separated from me, and fo long. I begin to fear you'll die in Ireland, and that Denunciation will be fulfilled upon you, Hibernus es, et in Hiberniam reverteris. Ifhould be apt to think you in Sancho's cafe; fome Duke has made you Governor of an island, or wet place, and you are adminiftring laws to the wild Irifh. But I muft own, when you talk of Building and Planting, you touch my ftring; and I am as apt to pardon you, as the fellow that thought himself Jupiter would have pardon'd the other madman who call'd himself his brother Neptune. Alas, Sir, do you know whom you talk to? one that has been a Poet, was degraded to a Tranflator, and at last, thro' mere dulness, is turned an Architect. You know Martial's cenfure, Præconem facito vel Architectum. However, I have one way left, to plan, to elevate, and to furprize, (as Bays fays) the next news you may expect to hear, is that I am in debt.

The hiftory of my Transplantation and settlement which you defire, would require a volume, were I to enumerate the many projects, difficulties, viciffitudes, and various fates attending that important part of my life: much more, fhould I describe the many Draughts, Elevations, Profiles, Perspectives, &c. of every Palace and Garden propos'd, intended, and happily raised, by the ftrength of that faculty wherein all great Genius's excel, Imagination. At

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laft,

laft, the Gods and fate have fix'd me on the borders of the Thames, in the diftricts of Richmond and Twickenham: It is here I have pafs'd an entire year of my life, without any fix'd abode in London, or more than cafting a tranfitory glance (for a day or two at most in a month) on the pomps of the Town. It is here I hope to receive you, Sir, returned from eternizing the Ireland of this age. For you my ftructures rife; for you my Colonades extend their wings; for you my groves afpire, and roses bloom. And, to fay truth, I hope pofterity (which, no doubt, will be made acquainted with all these things) will look upon it as one of the principal motives of my Architecture, that it was a manfion prepar'd to receive you, against your own fhould fall to duft, which is deftin'd to be the tomb of poor Frank and Betty, and the immortal monument of the Fidelity of two fuch Servants, who have excell'd in conftancy the very Rats of your family.

What more can I tell you of myfelf? so much, and yet all put together fo little, that I fcarce care or know, how to do it. But the very reasons that are against putting it upon paper, are as ftrong for telling it you in perfon; and I am uneasy to be so long denied the fatisfaction of it.

At prefent I confider you bound in by the Irish Sea, like the ghosts in Virgil,

Trifli palus inamabilis unda

Alligat, et novies Styx circumfufa coërcet !

and I can't exprefs how I long to renew our old intercourfe and converfation, our morning conferences in bed in the same room, our evening walks in the park, our amufing voyages on the water, our philofophical fuppers, our lectures, our differtations, our gravities, our reveries, our fooleries, our what not? -This awakens the memory of fome of those who have made a part in all these. Poor Parnelle, Garth, Rowe!

Rowe! You justly reprove me for not speaking of the death of the laft: Parnelle was too much in my mind, to whose memory I am erecting the best monument I can. What he gave me to publish, was but a small part of what he left behind him; but it was the best, and I will not make it worse by enlarging it. I'd fain know if he be buried at Chester, or Dublin; and what care has been, or is to be taken for his Monument, &c. Yet I have not neglected my devoirs to Mr. Rowe; I am writing this very day his Epitaph for Weftminster-Abbey-After thefe, the best-natur'd of Men, Sir Samuel Garth, has left me in the trueft concern for his lofs. His death was very heroical, and yet unaffected enough to have made a Saint or a Philofopher famous. But ill tongues, and worse hearts have branded even his laft moments, as wrongfully as they did his life, with Irreligion. You must have heard many tales on this fubject; but if ever there was a good Chriftian without knowing himself to be fo*, it was Dr. Garth. Your, &c.

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LETTER IX.

To Mr. *

Sept. 17:

HE gaiety of your letter proves you not fo ftudious of Wealth as many of your profeffion are, fince you can derive matter of mirth from want of business. You are none of those Lawyers who deferve the motto of the devil, Circuit quærens quem deveret. But your Circuit will at least procure you

This fuppofes rather an abfolute ignorance of Christianity than a rejection of it.

one of the greatest of temporal bleffings, Health. What an advantageous circumftance is it, for one that loves rambling fo well, to be a grave and reputable rambler? while (like your fellow Circuiteer, the Sun) you travel the round of the earth and behold all the iniquities under the heavens? You are much a fuperior genius to me in rambling; you, like a Pigeon (to which I would fooner compare a Lawyer than to a Hawk) can fly fome hundred leagues at a pitch; I, like a poor squirrel, am continually in motion indeed, but it is about a cage of three foot my little excurfions are but like those of a shopkeeper, who walks every day a mile or two before his own door, but minds his bufinefs all the while. Your letter of the Caufe lately before you, I could not but communicate to fome ladies of your acquaintance. I am of opinion, if you continued a correspondence of the fame fort during a whole Circuit, it could not fail to please the fex, better than half the novels they read; there would be in them what they love above all things, a moft happy union of Truth and Scandal. I affure you the Bath affords nothing equal to it: It is on the contrary full of grave and fad men, Mr. Baron S. Lord chief Juftice A. Judge P. and Counsellor B. who has a large pimple on the tip of his nofe, but thinks it inconfiftent with his gravity to wear a patch, notwithstanding the precedent of an eminent judge. I am, dear Sir,

Your, &c.

LET

IF

LETTER X.

To the Earl of BURLINGTON.

MY LORD,

your

Mare could fpeak, fhe would give an account of what extraordinary company she had on the road; which fince fhe cannot do, I will.

It was the enterprizing Mr. Lintot, the redoubtable rival of Mr. Tonson, who, mounted on a stonehorfe (no difagreeable companion to your Lordship's mare) overtook me in Windfor-foreft. He faid, he heard I defign'd for Oxford, the feat of the Muses, and would, as my bookfeller, by all means, accompany me thither.

I afk'd him where he got his horfe? He answer'd, he got it of his Publisher: "For that rogue my "Printer (faid he) disappointed me: I hoped to ἐσ put him in good-humour by a treat at the tavern, "of a brown fricaffee of rabbits, which cost two cc fhillings, with two quarts of wine, befides my "converfation. I thought myself cockfure of his "horfe, which he readily promis'd me, but faid that "Mr. Tonfon had juft fuch another defign of go

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ing to Cambridge, expecting there the copy of a

new kind of Horace from Dr., and if Mr. "Tonfon went, he was preingaged to attend him, "being to have the printing of the faid copy.

"So in fhort, I borrow'd this stonehorse of my "publisher, which he had of Mr. Oldmixon for a "debt; he lent me too the pretty boy you fee after "me: he was a smutty dog yesterday, and coft me ce near two hours to wash the ink off his face; "the Devil is a fair-condition'd Devil, and very " forward in his Catechife: if you have any more k baggs, he fhall carry them."

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but

I thought