to any Critic). As for myself, I refolve to go on in my quiet, calm, moral courfe, taking no fort of notice of man's anger, or woman's fcandal, with Virtue in my eyes, and Truth upon my tongue. Adieu*.

with whom Mallet was little acquainted. Mallet never forgave, and did fome ill offices, efpecially with Lord Melcombe, to the Author of the Essay on the Genius of Pope, who unluckily cited his Amyntor and Theodora, as containing some examples of false writing and unnatural images. Mallet's Life of Lord Bacon was too highly commended by Chesterfield, and his friends. He once intended to write the Hiftory of the Exclufion Bill.

66

* Mr. Richardson, fen. the Painter, fays, " that one day Mr. Pope asked him, how he liked that kind of writing in which profe and verse were mixed together, as in the works of St. Evremond and others?" “I told him,” adds he, "that I liked it well for off-hand occafional productions." Why," replied he, "I have thoughts of turning out fome sketches I have by me, of various accidents and reflections, in this manner." In one of his letters he gives an account of an excurfion he made to Bristol from Bath, "the idleft and the bufieft cities in England." He mentioned the Cartoon of Raphael that is at Badminton, but does not seem to have attended to the Guido's that are there, nor to the curious fatirical Picture of Salvator Rofa, for which he was obliged to quit Rome. Neither does he mention the very fine Cartoon of Raphael reprefenting the Maffacre of the Innocents, that was in the poffeffion of the late ingenious Mr. Hoare of Bath.

LETTER XLVI.

TO THE SAME.

E

Dear Sir,

November 21.

VERY thing was welcome to me in

ter, except the occafion of it, the confinement you are under. I am glad you count the days when I do not fee you: but it was but half an one that I was in town upon bufinefs with Dr. Mead, and returned to render an account of it.

I fhall in the courfe of the winter probably be an evening visitant to you, if you fit at home, though I hope it will not be by compulfion or lameness. We may take a cup of fack together, and chatter like two parrots, which are at least more reputable and manlike animals than the grafshoppers, to which Homer likens old men.

you

As to my

I am glad you fleep better. I fleep in company, and wake at night, which is vexatious: if did fo, you at your age would make verses. health, it will never mend; but I will complain less of it, when I find it incorrigible.

But for the news of my quitting Twitʼnam for Bath, enquire into my years, if they are paft the bounds of dotage? Afk my eyes, if they can fee, and my noftrils if they can fmell? To prefer rocks and dirt to flowery meads and filver Thames, and brimftone and

fogs

fogs to rofes and fun-fhine. When I arrive at these fenfations, I may fettle at Bath, of which I never yet dreamt, further than to live juft out of the fulphurous pit, and at the edge of the fogs at Mr. Allen's, for a month or fo. I like the place fo little, that health itself should not draw me thither, though friendship has twice or thrice.

Having answered your questions, I defire to hear if you have any commands. If the first be to come to you, it's probable I fhall, before you can send 'em fo round about as to Twit'nam, for I have lived of late at Batterfea.

Adieu!

LETTER XLVII.

TO MR. BETHEL*.

Your's, etc.

Auguft 9, 1733.

YOU ou might well think me negligent or forgetful of you, if true friendship and fincere esteem were to be measured by common forms and compliments.

The

* Hugh Bethel, Efq. was a gentleman of family and fortune in Yorkshire, who is celebrated in two fine lines in the Essay on Man, b. iv. l. 125. on account of the asthma with which he was afflicted. The late Alderman was of the same family; and the estate was lately held by Capt. C. Codrington, a brother of Sir William, who took the name of Bethel.

The truth is, I could not write then, without faying fomething of my own condition, and of my loss of fo old and fo deserving a parent, which really would have troubled you; or I must have kept a filence upon that head, which would not have fuited that freedom and fincere opening of the heart which is due to you from me. I am now pretty well; but my home is uneafy to me ftill, and I am therefore wandering about all this fummer. I was but four days at Twickenham fince the occafion that made it fo melancholy. I have been a fortnight in Effex, and am now at Dawley, (whofe master is your fervant,) and going to Cirencefter to Lord Bathurst. I shall also see Southampton with Lord Peterborow. The Court and Twit'nham I fhall forfake together. I wish I did not leave our friend, who deferves more' quiet, and more health and happiness, than can be found in fuch a family. The rest of my acquaintance are tolerably happy in their various ways of life, whether court, country, or town; and Mr. Cleland is as well in the Park, as if he were in Paradife. I heartily hope, Yorkshire is the fame to you; and that no evil, moral or phyfical, may come near you.

I have now but too much melancholy leifure, and no other care but to finish my Effay on Man: there will be in it one line that may offend you, (I fear,) and yet I will not alter or omit it, unless you come to town and prevent me before I print it, which will be

h Mrs. B.

W.

in a fortnight in all probability. In plain truth, I will not deny myself the greatest pleasure I am capable of receiving, because another may have the modesty not to share it. It is all a poor poet can do, to bear teftimony to the virtue he cannot reach: befides that, in this age, I fee too few good Examples not to lay hold on any I can find. You fee what an interested man I am. Adieu.

LETTER XLVIII.

ΤΟ

i.

September 7, 1733.

You cannot think how melancholy this place

my

makes me; every part of this wood puts into mind poor Mr. Gay, with whom I paffed once a great deal of pleafant time in it, and another friend who is near dead, and quite loft to us, Dr. Swift. I really can find no enjoyment in the place; the fame fort of uneafinefs as I find at Twit'nham, whenever I pass near my Mother's room.

I've not yet writ to Mrs. have nothing to fay that will

I think I fhould, but anfwer the character

they confider me in, as a wit; besides, my eyes grow very bad, (whatever is the cause of it,) I'll put them out for nobody but a friend; and, I proteft, it brings

tears

i Mrs. B.

W.