tor's patent that he spoke (unless Sir William Davenant bought up Killigrew's); I know no way of coming to the knowledge of this affair, Mr. Davenant being now abroad, and I know not where. But if you would have me write about it, I will learn his direction.

I am at all times glad to hear of you, on any occasion. I would willingly wait on you in the Park, if I knew your times: I have called twice or thrice there in vain, without being heard. I guessed you were in the country. My sincere good wishes attend you; and your agreeable family, as far as I have seen of it, I cannot but wish well to. I dear Sir,

am,

Your, etc.

LETTER XVII.

TO THE SAME.

June 2, 1738.

SIR, I SENT you as honest an answer as I could, to the letter you favoured me with; and am sorry you imagine any civil reproach, or latent meaning, where I meant to express with the utmost openness. I would assure you, if you please, by my oath, as well as my word, that I am in no degree displeased at any freedom you can take with me in a private letter, or with my writings in public. I again insist, that you alter or soften no one criticism of yours in my favour; nor deprive yourself of the liberty, nor the world of the profit, of your freest remarks on my errors.

In what I said, I gave you a true picture of my own

heart, as far as I know it myself. It is true, I have shewn a scorn of some writers; but it proceeded from an experience that they were bad men, or bad friends, or vile hirelings; in which case, their being authors did not make them, to me, either more respectable, or more formidable. As for any other pique, my mind is not so susceptible of it as you have seemed, on each occasion, too much inclined (I think) to believe. What may have sometimes seemed a neglect of others, was rather a laziness to cultivate or contract new friends, when I was satisfied with those I had ; or when I apprehended their demands were too high for me to answer.

I thank you for the confidence you shew you have in me, in telling me what you judge amiss in my nature. If it be (as you too partially say) my only fault, I might soon be a perfect character: for I would endeavour to correct this fault in myself, and intreat you to correct all those in my writings; I see, by the specimen you generously gave me in your late letter, you are able to do it; and I would rather owe (and own I owe) that correction to your friendship, than to my own industry.

For the last paragraph of yours, I shall be extremely ready to convey what you promise to send me, to my Lord B. I am in hopes very speedily to see him myself, and will, in that case, be the bearer; if not, I shall send it, by the first safe hand, to him. I am truly glad of any occasion of proving myself, with all the respect that is consistent with sincerity, Sir,

Your, etc.

SIR,

LETTER XVIII.

TO THE SAME.

June 9, 1738.

THE favour of yours of May the 11th, had not been unacknowledged so long, but it reached me not till my return from a journey, which had carried me from scene to scene, where Gods might wander with delight. I am sorry yours was attended with any thoughts less pleasing, either from the conduct towards you of the world in general, or of any one else in particular. As to the subject matter of the letter, I found what I have often done in receiving letters from those I most esteemed, and most wish to be esteemed by; a great pleasure in reading it, and a great inability to answer it. I can only say, you oblige me, in seeming so well to know me again; as one extremely willing that the free exercise of criticism should extend over my own writings, as well as those of others, whenever the public may receive the least benefit from it; as I question not they will a great deal, when exerted by you. I am sensible of the honour you do me, in proposing to send me your work before it appears: if you do, I must insist, that no use in my favour be made of that distinction, by the alteration or softening of any censure of yours on any line of mine.

What you have observed in your letter I think just; only I would acquit myself in one point: I could not have the least pique to Mr. Th. in what is cited in the treatise of the Bathos from the play

which I never supposed to be his he gave it as Shakspear's, and I take it to be of that age: and indeed the collection of those, and many more of the thoughts censured there, was not made by me, but Dr. Arbuthnot. I have had two or three occasions to lament, that you seem to know me much better as a poet than as a man. You can hardly conceive how little either pique or contempt I bear to any creature, unless for immoral or dirty actions: any mortal is at full liberty, unanswered, to write and print of me as a poet, to praise me one year, and blame me another only I desire him to spare my character as an honest man, over which he can have no private, much less any public, right, without some personal knowledge of my heart, or the motives of my conduct nor is it a sufficient excuse, to allege he was so or so informed, which was the case with those

men.

I am sincere in all I say to you, and have no vanity in saying it. You really over-value me greatly in my poetical capacity; and I am sure your work would do me infinitely too much honour, even if it blamed me oftener than it commended: for the first you will do with lenity, the last with excess. But I could be glad to part with some share of any good man's admiration, for some of his affection, and his belief that I am not wholly undeserving to be thought, what I am to you, Sir,

Your, etc.

LETTER XIX.

TO THE SAME.

SIR, July 21, 1738. I NEED not assure you in many words, that I join my suffrage entirely with Lord B.'s in general, after a fourth reading your tragedy of Cæsar. I think no characters were ever more nobly sustained than those of Cæsar and Brutus in particular: you excel throughout in the greatness of sentiment; and I add, that I never met with more striking sentences, or lively short reprizes. There is almost every where such a dignity in the scenes, that instead of pointing out any one scene, I can scarce point out any that wants it, in any degree (except you would a little raise that of the plebeians in the last act). That dignity is admirably reconciled with softness, in the scenes between Cæsar and Calpurnia and all those between Cæsar and Brutus are a noble strife between greatness and humanity. The management of the whole is as artful as it is noble. Whatever

particular remarks we have made further, will be rather the subject of conversation than a letter, of which we shall both be glad of an opportunity, either here at Twickenham, or in town, as shall best suit your conveniency. Pray, Sir, let this confirm you in the opinion you kindly, and indeed justly, entertain of the wish I feel (and ever felt, notwithstanding mistakes) to be, and to be thought,

Sincerely your, etc.