twenty-second Iliad. However (to shew myself a true commentator, if not a true critic), I will endeavour to excuse, if not to defend it, in my Notes on that book. And to save myself what trouble I can, instead of doing it in this letter, I will draw up the substance of what I have to say for it in a separate paper, which I will shew your Grace when next we meet. I will only desire you to allow me, that Hector was in an absolute certainty of death, and depressed over and above with the conscience of being in an ill cause. If your heart be so great, as not to grant the first of these will sink the spirit of a hero, you'll at least be so good, as to allow the second may. But, I can tell your Grace, no less a hero than my Lord Peterborow, when a person complimented him for never being afraid, made this answer, "Sir, shew me a danger "that I think an imminent and real one, and I pro"mise you I'll be as much afraid as any of you." I am your Grace's, etc.

LETTER XV.

FROM DR. ARBUTHNOT.

London, Sept. 7, 1714.

I AM extremely obliged to you for taking notice of a poor old distressed courtier, commonly the most despiseable thing in the world. This blow has so roused Scriblerus, that he has recovered his senses, and thinks and talks like other men. From being frolicksome and gay he is turned grave and morose. His lucubrations lie neglected among old newspapers, cases, petitions, and abundance of unanswerable letters. I wish to God they had been among the papers of a noble lord sealed up. Then might Scriblerus have passed for the Pretender, and it would have been a most

* Lord Bolingbroke.

k

excellent and laborious work for the Flying Post, or some such author, to have allegorized all his adventures into a plot, and found out mysteries somewhat like the Key to the Lock. Martin's office is now the second door on the left hand in Dover-street, where he will be glad to see Dr. Parnelle, Mr. Pope, and his old friends, to whom he can still afford a half pint of claret. It is with some pleasure that he contemplates the world still busy, and all mankind at work for him. I have seen a letter from Dean Swift; he keeps up his noble spirit, and though like a man knocked down, you may behold him still with a stern countenance, and aiming a blow at his adversaries, I will add no more, being in haste, only that I will never forgive you if you can't use my aforesaid house in Dover-street with the same freedom as you did that in St. James's; for as our friendship was not begun upon the relation of a courtier, so I hope it will not end with it. I will always be proud to be reckoned amongst the number of your friends and humble

servants.

LETTER XVI.

TO DR. ARBUTHNOT.

September IC.

I AM glad your travels delighted you; improve you, I am sure, they could not ; you are not so much a youth as that, though you run about with a King of sixteen, and (what makes him still more a child) a King of Frenchmen. My own time has been more melancholy, spent in attendance upon death, which has seized one of our family: my mother is something better, though at her advanced age every day is a climacteric. There was joined to this an indisposition of my own, which I ought to look upon as a slight one compared with my mother's, because my life is not

of half the consequence to any body that her's is to All these incidents have hindered my more speedy reply to your obliging letter.

me.

The article you enquire of is of as little concern to me as you desire it should; namely, the railing papers about the Odyssey. If the book has merit, it will extinguish all such nasty scandal; as the sun puts an end to stinks, merely by coming out.

I wish I had nothing to trouble me more; an honest mind is not in the power of any dishonest one. To break its peace, there must be some guilt or consciousness, which is inconsistent with its own principles. Not but malice and injustice have their day, like some poor short-lived vermin that die in shooting their own stings. Falsehood is folly, (says Homer,) and liars and calumniators at last hurt none but themselves, even in this world: in the next, 'tis charity to say, God have mercy on them! they were the devil's vicegerents upon earth, who is the father of lies, and, I fear, has a right to dispose of his children.

I have had an occasion to make these reflections of late more justly than from any thing that concerns my writings, for it is one that concerns my morals, and (which I ought to be as tender of as my own) the good character of another very innocent person, who I am sure shares your friendship no less than I do. No creature has better natural dispositions, or would act more rightly or reasonably in every duty, did she act by herself, or from herself; but you know it is the misfortune of that family to be governed like a ship, I mean the head guided by the tail, and that by every wind that blows in it.

LETTER XVII.

MR. POPE TO THE EARL OF OXFORD.

October 21, 1721.

MY LORD, YOUR Lordship may be surprized at the liberty

I take in writing to you; though you will allow me always to remember, that you once permitted me that honour, in conjunction with some others who better deserved it. I hope you will not wonder I am still desirous to have you think me your grateful and faithful servant, but I own I have an ambition yet farther, to have others think me so, which is the occasion I give your Lordship the trouble of this. Poor Parnelle, before he died, left me the charge of publishing these few remains of his : I have a strong desire to make them, their author, and their publisher, more considerable, by addressing and dedicating them all to you. There is a pleasure in bearing testimony to truth, and a vanity, perhaps, which at least is as excusable as any vanity can be. I beg you, my Lord, to allow me to gratify it in prefixing this paper of honest verses to the book. I send the book itself, which, I dare say, you'll receive more satisfaction in perusing, than you can from any thing writtten upon the subject of yourself. Therefore I am a good deal in doubt, whether you will care for such an addition All I shall say for it is, that it is the only dedication I ever writ, and shall be the only one, whether you accept of it or not: for I will not bow the knee tò a less man than my Lord Oxford, and I expect to see no greater in my time.

to it.

After all, if your Lordship will tell my Lord Harley that I must not do this, you may depend upon a suppression of these verses (the only copy whereof I send

you); but you never shall suppress that great, sincere, and entire respect, with which I am always,

My Lord,

Your, etc.

LETTER XVIII.

THE EARL OF OXFORD TO MR. POPE.

You

SIR, Brampton Castle, Nov. 6, 1721. 1 RECEIVED your packet, which could not but give me great pleasure, to see you preserve an old friend in your memory; for it must needs be very agreeable to be remembered by those we highly value. But then how much shame did it cause me, when I read your very fine verses enclosed? My mind reproached me how far short I came of what your great friendship and delicate pen would partially describe me. ask my consent to publish it: to what straits doth this reduce me? I look back indeed to those evenings I have usefully and pleasantly spent with Mr. Pope, Mr. Parnelle, Dean Swift, the Doctor, etc. I should be glad the world knew you admitted me to your friendship, and since your affection is too hard for your judgment, I am contented to let the world know how well Mr. Pope can write upon a barren subject. I return you an exact copy of the verses, that I may keep the original, as a testimony of the only error you have been guilty of. I hope very speedily to embrace you in London, and to assure you of the particular esteem and friendship wherewith I am Your, etc.