When eastern lovers feed the fun'ral fire, On the fame pile the faithful Fair expire: Here pitying Heav'n that virtue mutual found, And blafted both, that it might neither wound. Hearts fo fincere th' Almighty faw well pleas'd, Sent his own lightning, and the victims feiz'd. But my Lord is apprehenfive the country people will not understand this *, and Mr. Pope fays he'll make one with fomething of Scripture in it, and with as little of poetry as Hopkins and Sternhold f. Your, etc. * It is no wonder my Lord was apprehenfive the "countrypeople would not underfland." Any thing more "recherche" and affected cannot well be conceived; particularly the idea of God's fending his "lightning" on purpose for them, The Epitaph was this: Near this place lie the bodies of were in one inftant killed by Lightning Think not, by rig'rous Judgment feiz'd, And fnatch'd them in celeftial fire. Live well, and fear no fudden fate; Alike 'tis juftice foon or late, Mercy alike to kill or fave. Virtue unmov'd can hear the call, And face the flash that melts the ball. WARBURTON, The Reader may compare Lady M. W. Montague's account of the fame circumftance, whofe obfervations on Pope's Epitaph and defcription are carried to the other extreme. Dallaway's edition. Ir frequently appears, by a comparison of Mr. Pope's printed with his original Letters (many of which are now before me), that, in preparing them for the prefs, he employed a degree of management, by corrections and alterations, which, whether arifing from prudence, or cunning, ia fometimes altogether unaccountable. The affecting Letter which the Reader has juft perufed, is a more fingular inftance of capricious preparation, than perhaps any we can produce. In every edition of Pope's Works, this Letter has been given to Mr. Gay, and is faid to have been addressed to Mr. Fortescue, and is printed here according to that custom, for obvious reafons. But the fact is, this celebrated Letter was written by Mr. Pope to Mifs Blount; and the following exact copy of the original will decidedly prove this, as well as afford a curious inftance of the manner in which he altered and corrected his Letters, when he chofe to give them to the Public. August 6, 1718. "Madam, "The only news you can expect to have from us here, must be news from Heaven; for we are separated from the earth, and there's scarce any thing can reach us except the noise of thunder: which you have heard too, for nobody in Chriftendome has a quicker ear for thunder than yourself. We have read in old books, how thunder levels high towers, which the humble valley efcapes; and how proud oaks are blatted, while the lowly fhrub remains unfinged. They fay, the only thing that escapes it is the laurel, which yet we take not to be a fufficient fecurity to the brains of modern Poets. But to let you fee that the contrary to this often happens, I muft acquaint you, that here in our neighbourhood, Blenheim, the most proud and extravagant heap of towers in the nation, ftands untouched; while a cock of corn in the next field is miferably reduced to ashes. "Would to God, that cock of corn had been all that fuffered ! for, unhappily, beneath that little shelter fate two Lovers, no way yielding to those you so often find in a romance, under a beechen fhade. The name of the one was John Hewet, and of the other Sarah Drew. John was black, of about five and twenty; Sarah was of a comely brown, near the fame age. John had for several months borne the sweat of the day, and divided the labour of the harvest with Sarah : he took a particular delight to do her all the little offices that might please her: it was but last fair he brought her a prefent of green filk to line her ftraw hat, and that too he had bought for her but the market day before. Whenever she milked, it was his care to bring the cows to her pail, and after to attend her with them to the field, upon pretence of helping to drive them. In fhort, their love was the talk, but not the scandal, of the whole neighbourhood; for all he aimed at was the blameless poffeffion of her in marriage. It was but this very morning he obtained the confent of her parents, and it was but till the next week that they were to wait to be happy. Perhaps this very day, in the intervals of their work, they were talking of their weddingclothes, and John was fuiting feveral forts of poppies and fieldflowers to Sarah's complexion, to make her a prefent of knots for the day. While they were thus employed (it was on the last of July, between the hours of two and three in the afternoon), the clouds grew black, a terrible storm of thunder and lightning enfued; the labourers who were in the field, made the beft of their way to what shelter the hedges or trees afforded. Sarah frighted, and out of breath, funk down on a heap of wheatfheaves; and John, who never separated from her, raked two or three heaps together, to protect her; and fate down by her. Immediately there was heard fo loud a crack, that Heaven seemed burft asunder: every one was folicitous for the fafety of his next neighbour, and called to one another. Those who were nearest our Lovers, hearing no anfwer, ftept to the fheaves. They first fpied a little smoke, and then faw this faithful pair, John with one arm about her neck, and the other extended over her face, as to fhield her from the lightning, both stiff and cold in this tender pofture: no mark or blemish on the bodies, except the left eyebrow of Sarah a little finged, and a small spot between her breafts. "The evening I arrived here I met the funeral of this unfor tunate couple. They were both laid in one grave, in the parishchurch of Stanton-Harcourt. I have prevailed on my Lord Har court to erect a little monument over them, of plain ftone, and have writ the following Epitaph, which is to be engraved on it. "When eaftern," &c. [The fame as in the printed Letter.] "After all that we call unfortunate in this accident, I cannot but own, I think next to living fo happy as thefe people might have done, was dying as they did. And did any one love me fo well as Sarah did John, I would much rather die thus with her than live after her. I could not but tell you this true and tender ftory, and should be pleased to have you as much moved by it as I am. I wish you had fome pity, for my fake; and I affure you I shall have for the future more fear, for yours; fince I fee by this melancholy example, that innocence and virtue are no fecurity for what you are fo afraid of. May the hand of God, dear Madam, be seen upon you, in nothing but in your beauties, and his bleffings! I am firmly and affectionately for ever Yours. "Auguft 9th. This Letter has been ready three days; but, difappointed by the poft-boy's not calling (for we lie in a cross road), your fifter gave me hopes of a line from you; but I have received none. I am more vexed at Mrs. Cary's, than I believe you can be. I'd give the world if you had the courage, both of you, to pass the fortnight in and about my wood. I'd fecure you of a good house within an hour of it, and a daily entertainment in it. I go thither very speedily. I am fure of your fifter at least, that she would do this, or any thing else, if she had a mind to it. Let her take trial of fome of Angel's horfes, and a coach, for me. Upon the least hint, I'll fend to Prince to conduct them. My mother, Gay, and I, will meet you, and fhew you Blenheim by the way. I dare believe Mrs. Blount would not ftick out at my requeft. And fo damn Grinfted and all its works. Our roads are very good all September; come, ftay, and welcome." The first of Pope's Letters to Lady M. W. Montague in this Volume, contains the fame ftory, and almoft in the fame words; but, the Reader will obferve, rather in the words of the original, than of the copy hitherto printed. It may be worthy of remark too, that in his Letter to Lady M. W. Montague, he states the accident as having happened "juft under his eyes ;" and that the Lovers were buried next day; but in the original to Miss Blount, he fays that "he met the funeral of the unfortunate couple the evening he arrived." These are inconfiftencies which cannot eafily be reconciled*; and it is yet more wonderful, that the relation of this accident should have been so long attributed to Gay, and without any fufpicion that Pope was the real author, although in the same Volume he fends it to Lady M. W. Montague. C. They can be accounted for by Pope's inceffant labour for fame. He was always fearful of lofing what he had gained, and fent nothing into the world without care and cucumfpection. What he was not pleased with, he altered, or fuppreffed, or fometimes fathered upon Gay. Dear Gay, LETTER VII. September 11, 1722. I THANK you for remembering me; I would do my best to forget myself, but that I find your idea is so closely connected to me, that I must forget both together, or neither. I am forry I could not have a glimpse either of you or of the Sun (your father) before you went for Bath: but now it pleases me to fee him, and hear of you. Pray put Mr. Congreve in mind that he has one on loves him; and that there are more men and women in the universe than Mr. Gay and my Lady Duchess *. There are ladies in and about Richmond, that pretend to value him and yourself; and one of them at least may be thought to do it without affectation, namely Mrs. Howard. this fide of the world who Pray confult with Dr. Arbuthnot and Dr. Cheyne, to what exact pitch your belly may be fuffered to fwell, not to out-grow theirs, who are, yet, your betters. Tell Dr. Arbuthnot that even pigeon-pies and hogs-puddings are thought dangerous by our governors; for those that have been fent to the Bishop of Rochester are opened and prophanely pried into at the Tower: 'tis the first time dead pigeons have been fufpected of carrying intelligence. To be seri *That is, of Marlborough. ous, |