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1738. One Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Thirty-eight; a Dia

logue Something like Horace, by Mr. Pope. Cooper.
One Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Thirty-eight, Dialogue

II. By Mr. Pope. Dodsley. 1740. Selecta Poemata Italorum qui Latine Scripserunt, cura cujus

dam anonymi anno 1684 congesta, iterum in lucem data, una cum aliorum Italorum operibus, accurante A. POPE. Two

vols. Knaptons. 1741. The Works of Mr. Alexander Pope in Prose, Vol. II. Dods

ley. (In folio and quarto, the same as ist vol. This second collection included the correspondence with Swift, and the

Memoirs of Scriblerus.) 1742. The New Dunciad, as it was Found in the year 1742, with the

Illustrations of Scriblerus and Notes Variorum, 4to. T.

Cooper. (Another edition the same year in 8vo, by Dodsley.) 1743. The Dunciad, in Four Books. Printed according to the com

plete copy, found in the year 1742. With the Prolegomena of Scriblerus and Notes Variorum. To which are added several Notes, now first published, the Hypercritics of Aristarchus,

and his Dissertation on the Hero of the Poem. 4to. M. Cooper. Pope died on the 30th of May, 1744. He had prepared a complete edition of his Works, assisted by Warburton, and it was nearly all printed off before his death ; but it was not published till 1751, lest it should interfere with the sale of copies of the poems remaining unsold at the time of his death.

VII.

LETTERS OF POPE, HUGH BETHELL, ANN

ARBUTHNOT, AND TERESA BLOUNT. The following letters, hitherto unpublished, are interesting from their association with the poet.

In Mr. Rogers's collection is a fragment of a letter by Pope, evidently written early in life, when his views and prospects were unsettled. It is addressed to “ John Caryll, Esq., jun., at Ladyholt, in Sussex. By Midhurst bag.The Carylls were related to the Blounts of Maple-Durham :

• What new scenes of life I may enter into are uncertain ; but, wherever I may be, or however engaged, I hope Mr. Caryll and yourself will ever be so just as to believe my whole heart at your service. That must still be left to my own disposal, and while it is so, must be entirely yours. Be pleased, dear sir, to continue the

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favour you have always shown to me, and use your interest with your father, that he may do the same; the best testimony of which will be the satisfaction you will both sometimes give me of hearing from you, that

you have not forgot there is such an one in the world as, sir, your most faithful and affectionate humble servant, A. POPE.

“I expect the whole good family to accept my most faithful service."

The next (also in Mr. Rogers's collection) is addressed to Mr. Eckershall :

“ DEAR SIR, -I give you this second trouble (though I am ashamed of the first) to desire, if you have not actually disposed of your lottery orders, to let me have them sent before eleven or twelve to-morrow morning, to Mr. Jervas's (yours and all if you please) ; for I believe I can sell 'em, or do what is equivalent. I'll add no more, but that my mother and I join in our good wishes for Mrs. Eckershall's and your welfare. I am always, dear sir, your most obliged and most faithful servant,

“ A. POPE. “ Twitenham, March 2nd, Wednesday morning. Addressed, To James Eckershall, Esq., with speed.”

A third communication of Pope's in Mr. Rogers's collection, is addressed to his friend Richardson, the artist. It opens with some lines which have been ascribed to Milton, and said to be written on a window at Chalfont St. Giles, in Buckinghamshire. Milton retired to Chalfont during the plague of 1665; his friend Elwood, the Quaker, having taken a residence for him in the country till the pestilence was over. Pope appears to have been struck with the merit of the lines, or with the peculiarity of their being found written on a pane of glass; but they bear no internal evidence of being the composition of Milton; nor (apart from the fact of his blindness) could they have been written on the small diamond-paned window of the cottage at Chalfont, in which the poet resided :Found in a Glass Window in the Village of Chalfont, Bucks.

“Fair mirror of foul times! whose fragile sheen
Shall, as it blazeth, break; while Providence
Aye watching o'er his saints with eye unseen,
Spreads the red rod of angry pestilence,
To sweep the wicked and their counsels hence;
Yea, all to break the pride of lustful kings,
Who Heaven's lore reject for brutish sense ;
As erst he scourg'd Jessides' sin of yore
For the fair Hittite, when, on seraph's wings,
He sent him war, or plague, or famine sore."

“ July 18. “ DEAR SIR, I have been in Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire these ten days, and return to Twitnam by Thursday, when I hope to see you, and to fix a day after Sunday next, or on Friday or Saturday, if you can send me word to Lord Cornbury's. The above was given me by a gentleman as I travelled. I copied it for you. You'll tell me more of it perhaps than I can.

Yours, ever,

“A. POPE, To Mr. Richardson, in Queen's Square, Bloomsbury.”

The original of the following is in the British Museum. It is addressed to Bowyer, the printer, and evinces the unwearied care and anxiety of Pope, even in his last days, with respect to his works :

“ Nov. 3, (1743). “ I am for a few days at Battersea, at Lord Marchmont's, whither I've left orders with the waterman to bring me everything from you. I doubt not you'll be upon the watch, or set any other, in case of any piracy of the Dunciad, to inform me, who shall be ready to prosecute. As to the little edition, they have still not separated it aright. The second volume must (as the title you'll see implies) contain the fourth book, as well as the memoirs and index. Pray close your account with Mrs. Cooper of the octavo's, second volume (no more of which should now be sold), and make all that remain correspond with the present edition, ready to be republished, as we shall find occasion, the two together. And let me know when you have vended 500 of the quarto. I thank you for all your care, and shall be ever your affect, humble servant,

A. POPE. To Mr. Bowyer, Printer, in White Friars,

near Fleet Street, London.” Hugh Bethell was an early friend of Pope. He seems to have been very intimate with the Maple-Durham family, and through this connection formed an acquaintance with the poet. In the published correspondence and the poetry of Pope, Mr. Bethell appears as a grave and somewhat aged person, suffering from asthma. In the following letter (in the Maple-Durham collection) we see him lively and vigorous—" Youth at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm:”.

“ TO MRS. TERESA BLOUNT.

Wigginton, August the 28, 1716. “ MADAM,—You might begin to think I had forgot (which is not possible) the promise I had made you of sending you the receipt of the snuff for the headache, which you should have had much sooner, but that I staid with my sister in Gloucestershire longer than I intended, and only got here three days ago. When I came to York, it happened to be just at the time of the races, and there was

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so much company that, instead of being got to the country, I began to fancy myself in London; and our Palais Royal wanted nothing to make it not inferior to the Spanish Ambassador's but the two Mrs. Blounts. Among the rest, I was agreeably surprised to meet with our friend Wich, who, not content with his conquests in the south, comes to triumph over us in the north. Many a country squire who, before that he arrived, was happy in the affections of his mistress, and thought a pretty fellow, is now discarded, and called an awkward creature, and there is no bearing of him. For which reason they intend to give orders for the future that he shall have no ticket given him to go to their assemblies, and except against his coming there, as they except against certain horses that are looked upon as an overmatch for the rest. That he might do the greater execution, he took lodgings in a boarding house; but having a cousin there, and out of charity to my countrywomen, I let them know the danger they were in, and, forewarned forearmed, by the caution I gave them, I do not hear of any accident that happened, as I am told he went away by broad daylight, and carried nobody off in his chaise with him beside his man Jack, for which I think all the husbands and mothers in the town should sing Te Deum. I shall not have room for my receipt if I do not conclude, which I shall in assuring you how much I am your most obedient servant,

“ Hugh BETHELL. Pray my humble service to Mrs. Martha Blount. I write her name at length, that she may be out of doubt that it is not intended for somebody else. I hope that Mrs. Minshull and she keep an exact account of their visits, and that no misunderstanding proceeds from want of care in setting them down. My humble service to your mother. I hope Mr. Pope is recovered of his illness.”

Ann Arbuthnot had something of the spirit of her father. So said Pope, and the subjoined communication to Martha Blount (in the Maple-Durham collection), attests the truth of the remark :

“ DEAR MADAM,—Though I have ever esteemed the satisfaction of writing to a friend the very next in degree to that of seeing one, I do not believe just now that you would have had the trouble of answering this, had there not been added to it a violent curiosity to gratify. You must know I am now at Mr. Mauvillain's, at Morden. Yesterday comes a half buck directed to me, with orders to a Mrs. Bellingen to inquire at Mrs. Blount where I lived. I suppose an inquiry was made, and my people at home sent it to me. Now, I can by no means in the world find out who could send me half a buck that knew so little of me as not to know my place of residence, especially as I have lived in it six years. Half a buck is a present

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to send to a dear and only child—the utmost proof of esteem and regard. One that would do that is within an inch of sacrificing their lives for one. Don't wonder now at my curiosity. I'm certain the venison will never digest on my stomach till I know the giver ; besides the ingratitude of eating such a quantity without drinking the donor's health, by name or title, is what I cannot bear. The family I am with feel nothing of this but joy in the gift, and bless bounteous Heaven, never asking nor seeking the human second cause that conveyed it to us. Now, dear madam, let this be inquired after from Mrs. Bellingen, and if you write me a letter by the penny post, directed to Mr. Mauvillain, at Morden, near Mitcham, Surrey—I say, madam, if

you take the pains to gratify me in this, I will take care of your calico for you—otherwise, depend upon it, no gown this year for you! Don't wonder at the haughtiness of the threat : I never succeed so well as when I mix a layer of entreaties with a layer of threatenings together. Madam, I am, with the utmost regard and esteem, your humble servant,

“ ANN ARBUTHNOT. Morden, August the 27th, 1742." In the Maple-Durham collection is only one letter of Teresa Blount's. It was written on a melancholy occasion—the death of her brother; and is addressed to her nephew, then the proprietor of Maple-Durham. Teresa is always said to have possessed wit and abilities superior to her sister ; but she certainly could not write or spell so well. We have not thought it necessary to preserve the original orthography of these letters, which only confuses the reader; and, in fact, even the greatest men of that period-Pope, Addison,

—were careless and irregular in their orthography. “ DEAR SIR, -In sorrow like ours it's impertinent to talk of comfort. God in proper seasons knows when it's fit for us to feel it. The death of your father was so heavy a shock to me that I can never again have the equal. I loved him more than I can tell, or than he ever could imagine-unalterable to him had God spared him to the oldest age of man. I loved none so well on earth, unless my dear old mother. On her I hope to double my love-happy if I can in any way supply the loss of her son. You, my dear child, also (I trust in God) will be a comfort to her old age ; but, for me, I can have no expectation to find any to take a brother's part in what concerns me. I beg you'll excuse me if I am not myself at this time, when perhaps you are as deplorable as I. We wait the news of my brother being buried—I beg you let me know where and when. His happy death, I hope, has made him happy; but such a death makes us more sensible how valuable a creature is taken from us. My

&c.,

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