may be done. Now let me fairly tell you, I don't like your style: 'tis very pretty, therefore I don't like it; and if you writ as well as Voiture, I would not give a farthing for fuch letters *, unless I were to fell them to be printed. Methinks I have loft the Mrs. L* I formerly knew, who writ and talked like other people (and fometimes better). You must allow me to fay, you have not faid a fenfible word in all your letter, except where you fpeak of fhewing kindness and expecting it in return: but the addition make you about your being but two and twenty, is again in the style of wit and abomination. To fhew you how very unfatisfactorily you write, in all your letters you've never told me how you do. Indeed I see it was abfolutely neceffary for me to write to you, before you continued to take more notice of me, for I ought to tell you what you are to expect; that is to fay, Kindness, which I never failed (I hope) to return; and not Wit, which if I want I am not much concerned, because Judgment is a better thing; and if I had, I would make use of it rather to play upon those I despised, than to trifle with those I loved. You fee, in fhort, after what manner you may moft agreeably write to me tell me you are my friend, and you can be no more at a lofs about that article. As I have opened my * Pope feems here unconsciously to have described his own character as a Letter-writer. What he fays is, however, very just and fenfible; and he would have been a more interesting writer, if he had at all times remembered his own advice. my mind upon this to you, it may also serve for Mr. H*, who will fee by it what manner of letters he must expect if he corresponds with me. As I am too seriously yours and his fervant to put turns upon you instead of good wishes, fo in return I would have nothing but honeft plain Howd'ye's and Pray remember me's; which not being fit to be fhewn to any body for wit, may be a proof we correspond only for ourselves, in mere friendliness; as doth, God is my witness, Your, etc. IT LETTER XIX.† is with infinite fatisfaction I am made acquainted that brother will at laft prove your relation, and has entertained fuch fentiments as became him in your your *I do not know to whom this is written; but it appears, the Lady, thinking fhe was writing to a man of wit, thought it neceffary she should endeavour to fhew her own, and was probably more unfortunate than Pope. + This Letter, which must have been written very early, is evidently addreffed to the young Lady whofe untimely fate Pope afterwards pathetically lamented, in Verfes to an "Unfortunate Lady." This was perhaps Pope's earlieft attachment, and it has been faid the attachment was mutual, and that she was herself deformed. I do not think there are any grounds for believing either. your concern. I have been prepared for this by degrees, having feveral times received from Mrs. * that which is one of the greatest pleasures, the knowledge that others entered into my own fentiments concerning you. I ever was of opinion that you wanted no more to be vindicated than to be known. As I have often condoled with you in your adversities, so I have a right, which but few can pretend to, of congratulating on the profpect of your better fortunes: and I hope, for the future, to have the concern I have felt for you overpaid in your felicities. Though you modeftly fay the world has left you, yet, I verily believe, it is coming to you again as fast as it can: for, to give the world its due, it is always very fond of Merit when 'tis past its power to oppose it. Therefore, if you can, take it into favour again upon its repentance, and continue in it. But if you are refolved in revenge to rob the world of fo much example as you may afford it, I believe your design will be vain; for even in a monastery your devotions cannot carry you so far toward the next world as to make this lofe the fight of you; but you'll be like a star, that, while it is fixed to heaven, fhines over all the earth. Wherefoever Providence fhall dispose of the most valuable thing I know, I fhall ever follow you with my fincerest wishes, and my best thoughts will be perpetually waiting upon you, when you never hear of me nor them. Your own guardian angels cannot be more constant, nor more filent. I beg you will never cease cease to think me your friend, that you may not be guilty of that which you never yet knew to commit, an injustice. As I have hitherto been so in spite of the world, fo hereafter, if it be poffible you should ever be more opposed, and more deferted, I should only be fo much the more Your faithful, etc. I LETTER XX.* CAN fay little to recommend the letters I shall write to you, but that they will be the most impartial representations of a free heart, and the trueft copies you ever faw, though of a very mean original. Not a feature will be foftened, or any advantageous light employed to make the ugly thing a little lefs hideous; but you shall find it, in all respects, most horribly like. You will do me an injuftice if you look upon any thing I fhall fay from this inftant, as a compliment either to you or to myself: whatever I write will be the real thought of that hour; and I know you'll no more expect *To Lady M. W. Montagu. Her beauty, accomplishments, fuperior birth, &c. feem to have made such a sudden impreffion on Pope's fufceptible bofom, that for a moment the charms of Teresa and Martha Blount were forgotten, and loft in the blaze of fuperior elegance and fashion. expect it of me to persevere till death, in every fentiment or notion I now fet down, than you would imagine a man's face fhould never change when once his picture was drawn. The freedom I fhall ufe in this manner of thinking aloud, may indeed prove me a fool; but it will prove me one of the best fort of fools, the honest ones. And fince what folly we have, will infallibly buoy up at one time or other in fpite of all our art to keep it down; methinks, 'tis almost foolish to take any pains to conceal it at all, and almost knavish to do it from thofe that are our friends. If Momus's project had taken, of having windows in our breasts, I should be for carrying it further, and making those windows casements; that while a man fhowed his heart to all the world, he might do something more for his friends; even give it them, and trust it to their handling. I think I love you as well as King Herod did Herodias, (though I never had so much as one dance with you,) and would as freely give you my heart in a dish, as he did another's head. But fince Jupiter will not have it so, I must be content to fhew my taste in life, as I do my taste in painting, by loving to have as little drapery as poffible. Not that I think every body naked altogether fo fine a fight, as yourself and a few more would be, but becaufe 'tis good to ufe people to what they must be acquainted with: and there will certainly come fome day of judgment or other, to uncover every foul of us. We fhall then see that the |