reniency concur to set them a writing, as at prefent, a sociable meeting, a good dinner, warm fire, and an easy situation do, to the joint labour and pleasure of this epistle.

Wherein if I should say nothing I should say much (much being included in my love, though my love be such, that if I should say much, I should say nothing, it being (as Cowley says) equally possible either to conceal or to express it.

If I were to tell you the thing I wish above all things, it is to see you again; the next is, to see here your treatise of Zoilus, with the Batrachomuomachia, and the Pervigilium Veneris, both which poems are master-pieces in several kinds; and I question not the prose is as excellent in its sort, as the Essay on Homer. Nothing can be more glorious to that great author, than that the same hand which raised his best statue, and decked it with its old laurels, should also hang up the scare-crow of his miserable critic, and gibbet up the carcass of Zoilus, to the terror of the writings of posterity. More, and much more, upon this and a thousand other subjects will be the matter of my next letter, wherein I must open all the friend to you. At this time I must be content with telling you, I am, faithfully, your most affectionate and humble servant,

A. POPE.

Dear Sir,

TO THE SAME.

I MUST Own I have long owed you a letter, but you must own you have owed me one a good deal longer. Besides I have but two people in the whole kingdom of Ireland to take care of, the Dean and you but you have several who complain of your neglect in England. Mr. Gay complains, Mr. Harcourt complains, Mr. Jervas complains, Mr. Arbuthnot complains, my Lord complains; I complain. (Take notice of this figure of iteration, when you make your next sermon.) Some say, you are in deep discontent at the new turn of affairs; others, that you are so much in the Archbishop's good graces, that you will not correspond with any that have seen the last ministry. Some affirm, you have quarrelled with Pope (whose friends they observe daily fall from him, on account of his satirical and comical disposition); others, that you are insinuating yourself into the opinions of the ingenious Mr. What-do-ye-callhim. Some think you are preparing your sermons for the press, and others, that you will transform them into essays, and moral discourses. But the only excuse that I will allow you is, your attention to the life of Zoilus. The frogs already seem to croak for their transportation to England, and are sensible how much that Doctor is cursed and

hated, who introduced their species into your nation; therefore, as you dread the wrath of St. Patrick, send them hither, and rid your kingdom of those pernicious and loquacious animals.

I have at length received your poem out of Mr. Addison's hands, which shall be sent as soon as you order it, and in what manner you shall appoint. I shall, in the mean time, give Mr. Tooke a packet for you, consisting of divers merry pieces; Mr. Gay's new farce; Mr. Burnett's letter to Mr. Pope; Mr. Pope's Temple of Fame; Mr. Thomas Burnet's Grumbler on Mr. Gay; and the Bishop of Salisbury's Elegy, written either by Mr. Cary or some other hand. Mr. Pope is reading a letter, and in the mean time I make use of the pen, to testify my uneasiness in not hearing from you. I find success, even in the most trivial things, raises the indignation of a scribbler; for I, for my what-d'-ye-call-it, could neither escape the fury of Mr. Burnet or the German Doctor; then where will rage end, when Homer is to be translated? Let Zoilus hasten to your friend's assistance, and envious criticism shall be no more. I am in hopes that we order our affairs so, as to meet this summer at the Bath; for Mr. Pope and myself have thoughts of taking a trip thither. You shall preach, and we will write lampoons, for it is esteemed as great an honour to leave the Bath for fear of a broken head, as for a terræ filius of Oxford to be expelled. I have no

place at court, therefore, that I may not entirely be without one every where, show that I have a place in your remembrance.

Your most affectionate faithful servants,

A. POPE and J. GAY.

Homer will be published in three weeks.

DR. PARNELL TO MR. POPE.

I AM writing to you a long letter, but all the tediousness I feel in it is, that it makes me during the time think more intently of my being far from you. I fancy, if I were with you, I could remove some of the uneasiness which you may have felt from the opposition of the world; and which you should be ashamed to feel, since it is but the testimony which one part of it gives you, that your merit is unquestionable. What would you have otherwise, from ignorance, envy, or those tempers which vie with you in your own way? I know this in mankind, that when our ambition is unable to attain its end, it is not only wearied, but exasperated too at the vanity of its labours; then we speak ill of happier studies, and sighing, condemn the excellence which we find above our reach.

My Zoilus, which you used to write about, I finished last spring, and left in town. I waited till I came up to send it you, but not arriving here

before your book was out, imagined it a lost piece of labour. If you will still have it, you need only write me word.

I have here seen the first book of Homer, which came out at a time when it could not but appear as a kind of setting up against you. My opinion is, that you may, if you please, give them thanks who writ it. Neither the numbers nor the spirit have an equal mastery with yours; but what surprises me more is, that, a scholar being concerned, there should happen to be some mistakes in the author's sense; such as putting the light of Pallas's eyes into the eyes of Achilles, making the taunt of Achilles to Agamemnon (that he should have spoils when Troy should be taken), to be a cool and serious proposal; the translating what you call ablutions by the word offals, and so leaving water out of the rite of lustration, &c. but you must have taken notice of all this before. I write not to inform you, but to show I always have you at heart.

I am, &c.

POPE TO LORD OXFORD.

My Lord,

Oct. 21, 1721.

YOUR lordship may be surprised at the liberty I take in writing to you, though you will allow me always to remember, that you once permitted me