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diculous as the poet in Petronius, who while all the reft in the fhip were either labouring or praying for life, was fcratching his head in a little room, to write a fine defcription of the tempeft.

You tell me, you like the found of no arms but thofe of Achilles: for my part I like them as little as any other arms. I lifted my felf in the battles of Homer, and I am no fooner in war, but like most other folks, I wish my felf out again.

I heartily join with you in withing Quiet to our native country: Quiet in the ftate, which like Charity in religion, is too much the perfection and happiness of either, to be broken or violated on any pretence or profpect whatfoever. Fire and fword, and fire and faggot, are equally my averfion. I can pray for oppofite parties, and for oppofite religions, with great fincerity. I think to be a lover of one's country is a glorious elogy, but I do not think it fo great an one as to be a lover of mankind.

I fometimes celebrate you under these denominations, and join your health with that of the whole world; a truly catholick health, which far excels the poor narrow-fpirited, ridiculous healths now in fashion, to this church, or that church. Whatever our teachers may fay, they must give us leave at leaft to wish generously. Thefe, dear Sir, are my general difpofitions, but whenever I pray or with for particulars, you are one of the firft in the thoughts and affections

of

Your, &c.

LETTER

I

LETTER VIII.

From Sir William Trumbull.

Jan. 19, 1715.6. Should be afham'd of my long idlenefs, in not acknowledging your kind advice about Eccho, and your moft ingenious explanation of it relating to popular tumults; which I own to be very useful: and yet give me leave to tell you, that I keep my felf to a fhorter receipt of the fame Pythagoras, which is Silence; and this I fhall obferve, if not the whole time of his difcipline, yet at least till your return into this country. I am oblig'd further to this method, by the moft fevere weather I ever felt; when tho' I keep as near by the fire fide as may be, yet gelidus concrevit frigore fanguis ; and often I apprehend the circulation of the blood begins to be ftop'd. I have further great loffes (to a poor farmer) of my poor oxen-Intereunt pecudes, ftant circumfufa pruinis Corpora magna boum, &c.

Pray comfort me if you can, by telling me that your fecond volume of Homer is not frozen; for it must be exprefs'd very poetically to say now, that the preffes fweat.

I cannot forbear to add a piece of artifice I have been guilty of, on occafion of my being oblig'd to congratulate the birth-day of a friend of mine: when finding I had no materials of my own, I very frankly fent him your imitation of Martial's epigram on

Antonius

Antonius Primus. This has been applauded fo much, that I am in danger of commencing Poet, perhaps laureat, (pray defire my good friend Mr. Rowe to enter a caveat) provided you will further increase my ftock in this bank. In which proceeding I have laid the foundation of my eftate, and as honeftly, as many others have begun theirs. But now being a little tender, as young beginners often are, I offer to you (for I have conceal'd the true author) whether you will give me orders to declare who is the father of this fine child, or not? Whatever you determine, my fingers, pen, and ink are fo frozen, that I cannot thank you more at large. You will forgive this and all other faults of, Dear Sir,

Your, &c.

* Jam numerat placido felix Antonius ævo, &c.

At length my Friend (while Time with ftill career
Wafts on his gentle wing his eightieth year)
Sees his paft days fafe out of Fortune's pow'r,
Nor dreads approaching Fate's uncertain hour;
Reviews his life, and in the frict furvey
Finds not one moment be cou'd wish away,
Pleas'd with the series of each happy day.
Such, fuch a man extends his life's short space,
And from the goal again renews the race:
For be lives twice, who can at once employ
The prefent well, and ev'n the past enjoy.

LETTERS

TO and FROM

SEVERAL PERSONS,

From 1711 to 1714.

Send

LETTER I.

To the Hon. J. C. Efq;

June 15, 1711.

I you Dennis's remarks on the * Effay, which

equally abound in juft criticisms and fine railleries. The few obfervations in my hand in the margins, are what a mornings leifure permitted me to make purely for your perufal. For I am of opinion that fuch a critick as you will find him by the latter part of his Book, is but one way to be properly anfwer'd, and that way I would not take after what he informs me in his preface, that he is at this time perfecuted by fortune. This I knew not before; if I had, his name had been spared in the Effay, for that only reason. I can't conceive what ground he has for fo exceflive a

*On Criticifm.

refent

refentment; nor imagine how thofe + three lines can be called a reflection on his person, which only defcribe him fubject a little to anger on fome occafions. I have heard of combatants fo very furious, as to fall down themselves with that very blow which they defign'd to lay heavy on their antagonists. But if Mr Dennis's rage proceeds only from a zeal to difcourage young and unexperienc'd writers from feribling, he should frighten us with his verse not prose: for I have often known, that when all the precepts in the world would not reclaim a finner, fome very fad example has done the business. Yet to give this man his due, he has objected to one or two lines with reafon, and I will alter them in cafe of another edition; I will make my enemy do me a kindness where he meant an injury, and so serve instead of a friend. What he observes at the bottom of page 20th of his reflections, was objected to by your felf, and had been mended but for the hafte of the prefs: I confefs it what the English call a Bull, in the expreffion, tho' the fenfe be manifest enough:. Mr. Dennis's Bulls are feldom in the expreffion, they are generally in the fense.

I fhall certainly never make the least reply to him; not only because you advise me, but because I have ever been of opinion, that if a book can't answer for itself to the publick, 'tis to no fort of purpose for its author to do it. If I am wrong in any fentiment of that Effay, I proteft fincerely, I don't defire all the world fhould be deceived (which would be of

+ But Appius reddens at each word you speak, And fares tremendous with a threatning eye, Like fome fierce Tyrant in old Tapestry.

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