an ode, till we mount again? Lord! "if you pleafed, what a clever mifcel"lany might you make at leisure hours." Perhaps I may, faid I, if we ride on; the motion is an aid to my fancy, a round Etrot very much awakens my fpirits: then Liog on apace, and I will think as hard ras I can. "new version of Lucretius to publish "against Tonfon's; agreeing to pay the "author fo many fhillings at his producing fo many lines. He made a great progrefs in a very fhort time, and I gave it to the corrector to compare "with the Latin; but he went directly "to Creech's tranflation, and found it the "fame word for word, all but the first Now, what do you think I "did? I arrefted the tranflator for a "cheat; nay, and I ftopt the corrector's pay too, upon this proof that he had "made ufe of Creech inftead of the original." L: Silence enfued for a full hour; after Pray, Mr. Lintot (faid I), now you Ik of tranflators, what is your method managing them?"Sir (replied he), thofe are the faddeft pack of rogues in the world in a hungry fit, they will fwear they understand all the languages in the univerfe: I have known one of them take down a Greck book upon my counter, and cry, Ay, this is Hebrew, I must read it from the latter end. By G-d I can never be sure in thefe fellows, for I neither understand Greek, Latin, French, nor Italian myfelf. But this is my way; I agree with them for ten fhillings per theet, with a provifo, that I will have their doings corrected by whom I please; fo by one or other they are led at last to the true fenfe of an author; my judgment giving a negative to all my tranilators." But how are you fecure ie correctors may not impofe upon u?" Why, I get any civil gentleman (efpecially any Scotchman) that comes into my fhop, to read the original to me in English; by this I know whether my first tranflator be deficient, and whether my corrector merits his money or not. I will tell you what happened to me Haft month: Ibargained with S- for a 66 66 Pray teli me next how you deal with the critics? "Sir (faid he), nothing "more eafy. I can filence the moit "formidable of them: the rich ones for a fheet a-piece of the blotted manufcript, which cofts me nothing; they "will go about with it to their acquaintance, and pretend they had it from "the author, who fubmitted to their "correction: this has given some of "them fuch an air, that in time they 66 come to be confulted with, and dedi"cated to as the top critics of the "town. As for the poor critics, I "will give you one inftance of my ma"nagement, by which you may guefs "at the reft. A lean man, that looked "like a very good fcholar, came to me "the other day; he turned over your "Homer, fhook his head, fhrugged up "his fhoulders, and pithed at every line "of it: one would wonder (fays he) at "the ftrange prefumption of fome men; "Homer is no fuch ealy tafk, that every 66 ftripling, every verfifier - He was go ing on, when my wife called to din"ner: Sir, faid I, will you please to eat "a piece of beef with me? Mr. Lintot, "faid he, I am forry you fhould be at "the expence of this great book, I am "really concerned on your account"Sir, I am much obliged to you: if you can dine upon a piece of beef, toge"ther with a flice of pudding - Mr. "Lintot, I do not fay but Mr. Pope, if a he would condefcend to advile with "men of learning-Sir, the pudding is upon the table, if you pleafe to go in--My critic complies, he comes to "tafte of your poetry, and tells me in "the fame breath, that the book is "commendable, and the pudding ex"cellent. one as often. But it is a confolation to me, that I can do this, and many other enormities, under my own roof. But that you and I are upon equal terms, in all friendly lazinefs, and have taken an inviolable oath to each other, always to do what we will; I should reproach you for fo long a filence. The best amends you can make for faying nothing to me is by faying all the good you can of me, which is, that I heartily love and esteem the Dean and Dr. Par nelle. Gay is yours and theirs. His fpirit is awakened very much in the caufe of the Dean, which has broke forth in a courageous couplet or two upon Sir Richard Blackmore; he has printed it with his name to it, and bravely affigns no other reason, than that the faid Sir Richard has abused Dr. Swift. I have alfo fuffered in the like caufe, and fhall fuffer more: unlefs Parnelle fends me his Zoilus and Book-worm (which the Bishop of Clogher, I hear, greatly extols), it will be fhortly, concurrere bellum atque virum.-I love you all, as much as I defpife moft wits in this dull country. Ireland has turned the tables upon England; and if I have no poetical friend in my own nation, I will be as proud as Scipio, and fay (fince I am reduced to fkin and bone) Ingrata patria, ne offa quidem babeas. LETTER LXXXI. Nov. 29, 1716. HAT you have not heard from me of T late, afcribe not to the ufual lazinefs of your correfpondent, but to a ramble to Oxford, where your name is mentioned with honour, even in a land flowing with tories. I had the good fortune there to be often in the converfation of Doctor Clarke: he entertained me with feveral drawings, and particularly with the original defigns of Inigo Jones's Whitehall. I there faw and reverenced fome of your first pieces; which future painters are to look upon as we poets do on the Culex of Virgil and Batrachom. of Homer. Parnelle and his frogs? Oblitufque meorum, oblivifcendus et illis, might be Horace's wish, but will never be mine while I have fuch meorums as Dr. Parnelle and Dr. Swift. I hope the fpring will reftore you to us, and with you all the beauties and colours of nature. Not but I congratulate you on the pleafure you muft take in being admired in your own country, which fo feldom happens to prophets and poets: but in this you have the advantage of poets; you are master of an art that must profper and grow rich, as long as people love, or are proud of themfelves, or their own perfons. However, you have ftayed long enough, methinks, to have painted all the numberlefs hiftories of old Ogygia. If you have begun to be hiftorical, I recommend to your hand the ftory which every pious Irifhman ought to begin with, that of St. Patrick; to the end you may be obliged (as Dr. P. was, when he tranflated the Batrachomuomachia) to come into England, to copy the frogs, and fuch other vermin as were never seen in that land fince the time of that confeffor. I long to fee you a history painter. You have already done enough for the private, do fomething for the public; and be not confined, like the reft, to draw only fuch filly ftories as our own faces tell of us. The ancients too expect you fhould do them right; thofe ftatues from which you learned your beautiful and noble ideas, demand it as a piece of gratitude from you, to make them truly known to all nations, in the account you intend to write of their characters. I hope you think more warmly than ever of that defign. As to your inquiry about your houfe; when I come within the walls, they put me in mind of thofe of Carthage, where your friend, like the wandering Trojan, Animum picturâ pafcit inani. For the fpacious manfion, like a Turkish caravanferah, entertains the vagabonds with only bare lodging. I rule the family very ill, keep bad hours, and lend out See what your pictures about the town. indeed does all he can in fuch a circumit is to have a poet in your house! Frank ftance; for, confidering he has a wild Having named this latter piece, give is printed amongst his poems. me leave to ask what is become of Dr. *He tranflated the Batrachom. of Homer, which beaft beat in it, he conftantly keeps the door chained: every time it is opened, the links rattle, the rusty hinges roar. The houfe feems fo fenfible that you are its fupport, that it is ready to drop in your abfence; but I ftill truft myself under its roof, as depending that Providence will preferve fo many Raphaels, Titians, and Guidos, as are lodged in your cabinet. Surely the fins of one poet can hardly be fo heavy, as to bring an old house over the heads of fo many painters. In a word your houfe is falling; but what of that? I am only a lodger Ι May 5. he Sir, HAD not omitted anfwering yours of the 18th of last month, but out of a defire to give you fome certain and fatiffactory account, which way, and at what time, you might take your journey. I am now commiffioned to tell you, that Mr. Craggs will expect you on the rifing of the parliament, which will be as foon as he can receive you in the manner would receive a man de Belles Lettres, that is, in tranquillity and full leifure. I dare fay your way of life (which, in my tafte, will be the best in the world, and with one of the best men in the world) muft prove highly to your contentment. And, I must add, it will be ftill the more a joy to me, as I shall reap a particular advantage from the good I thall have done in bringing you together, by feeing it in my own neighbourhood. Mr. Craggs has taken a houfe close by mine, whither he proposes to come in three weeks: in the mean time I heartily invite you to live with me; where a frugal and philofophical diet, for a time, may give you a higher relish of that elegant way of life you will enter into after. I deure to know by the first post how soon I may hope for you. I am a little fcandalized at your complaint that your time lies heavy on your hands, when the Mufes have put fo many good materials into your head to employ them. As to your question, What I am doing? I answer, Just what I have been doing fome years, my duty; fecondly, • Alluding to the story of the Irishman. relieving myself with neceffary amufements, or exercifes, which fhall ferve me instead of phyfic as long as they can; thirdly, reading till I am tired; and laftly, writing when I have no other thing in the world to do, or no friend to enter tain in company, My mother is, I thank God, the eafier, if not the better, for my cares; and I am the happier in that regard, as well as in the confcioufnefs of doing my beft. My next felicity is in retaining the good opinion of honeft men, who think me not quite undeferving of it; and in finding no injuries from others hurt me, as long as I know myfelf. I will add the fincerity with which I act towards ingenuous and undefigning men, and which' makes me always (even by a natural bond) their friend; therefore believe me very affectionately your, &c. LETTER LXXXIII. trouble you with a letter, but was difcouraged for want of fomething that I could think worth fending fifteen hundred miles. Italy is fuch an exhausted fubject, that, I dare fay, you would eafily forgive my faying nothing of it; and the imagination of a poet is a thing fo nice and delicate, that it is no eafy matter to find out images capable of giv ing pleasure to one of the few who (in any age) have come up to that character. I am nevertheless lately returned from an ifland, where I paffed three or four months; which, were it fet out in its true colours, might, methinks, amuse you agreeably enough for a minute or two. The ifland Inarime is an epitome of the whole earth, containing within the compafs of eighteen miles, a wonderful variety of hills, vales, ragged rocks, fruitful plains, and barren mountains, all thrown together in a moft romantic confufion. The air is in the hottest feafon conftantly refreshed by cool breezes from the fea. The vales produce excellent wheat and Indian corn, but are mostly covered with vineyards, intermixed + Afterwards Bishop of Cloyne in Ireland, author of the Dialogues of Hylas and Philonons, the Minute Philofopher, &c. with fruit-trees. Befides the common kinds, as cherries, apricots, peaches, &c. they produce oranges, limes, almonds, pomegranates, figs, water-melons, and many other fruits unknown to our climates, which lie every where open to the paffenger. The hills are the greater part covered to the top with vines, fome with chefnut groves, and others with thickets of myrtle and lentifcus. The fields in the northern fide are divided by hedge-rows of myrtle. Several fountains and rivulets add to the beauty of this landscape, which is likewife fet off by the variety of fome barren spots, and naked rocks. But that which crowns the fcene is a large mountain, rifing out of the middle of the ifland (once a terrible volcano, by the ancients called Mons Epomeus); its lower parts are adorned with vines, and other fruits; the middle affords pafture to flocks of goats and sheep; and the top is a fandy pointed rock, from which you have the finest profpect in the world, furveying at one view, befides feveral pleafant iflands lying at your feet, a tract of Italy about three hundred miles in length, from the promontory of Antium to the cape of Palinurus: the greater part of which hath been fung by Homer and Virgil, as making a confiderable part of the travels and adventures of their two heroes. The islands Caprea, Prochyta, and Parthenope, together with Cajeta, Cuma, Monte Mifeno, the habitations of Circe, the Syrens, and the Læftrigones, the bay of Naples, the promontory of Minerva, and the whole Campagnia Felice, make but a part of this noble landscape; which would demand an imagination as warm, and numbers as flowing, as your own, to defcribe it. The inhabitants of this delicious ifle, as they are without riches and honours, fo are they without the vices and follies that attend them; and were they but as much ftrangers to revenge, as they are to avarice and ambition, they might in fact anfwer the poetical notions of the golden age. But they have got, as an alloy to their happiness, an ill habit of murdering one another on flight offences. We had an inftance of this the fecond night after our arrival, a youth of eighteen being shot dead by our door: and yet by the fole fecret of minding our own bufinefs, we found a means of living fecurely among thofe dangerous people. 12 Would you know how we pass the time the devotion of our neighbours: befides at Naples? Our chief entertainment is the gaiety of their churches (where folks go to fee what they call una bella devotione, i. e. a fort of religious opera), they make fire-works almost every week, out of devotion; the ftreets are often hung with arras, out of devotion; and (what is ftill more ftrange) the ladies invite gentlemen to their houses, and treat them with mufic and fweetmeats, out of devotion: in a word, were it not for this devotion of its inhabitants, Naples would have little elfe to recommend it, befide the air and fituation. very thriving ftate here, as indeed no Learning is in no where elfe in Italy; however, among many pretenders, fome men of taste are to be met with. A friend of mine told me not long fince, that being to visit Salvini at Florence, he found him reading your Homer: he liked the notes extremely, and could find no other fault with the verfion, but that he thought it approached too near a paraphrafe; which fhews him not to be fufficiently acquainted with our language. I wish you health to go on with that noble work, and when you have that, I need not wish cefs. You will do me the juftice to beyou fuclieve, that whatever relates to your wel fare is fincerely wished by your, &c. Dec. 12, 1718. THE old project of a window in the bofom, to render the foul of man vi fible, is what every honeft friend has mahifold reafon to with for; yet even that would not do in our cafe, while you are fo far feparated from me, and fo long. I begin to fear you will die in Ireland, and that denunciation will be fulfilled upon you, Hibernus es, et in Hiberniam reverteris. I fhould be apt to think you in Sancho's cafe; fome Duke has made you governor of an island, or wet place, and you are adminiftering laws to the wild Irish. But I must own, when you talk of building and planting, you touch my ftring; and I am as apt to pardon you, as the fellow that thought himself Jupiter, would have pardoned the other madman who called himself his brother ་ brother Neptune. Alas, Sir, do you know whom you talk to one that has been a poet, was degraded to a tranflator, and at last, through mere dulnefs, is turned an architect. You know Martial's cenfure, Praconem facito vel architectum. However, I have one way left, to plan, to elevate, and to furprise (as Bays fays); the next news you may expect to hear is, that I am in debt. The hiftory of my tranfplantation and fettlement, which you defire, would require a volume; were I to enumerate the many projects, difficulties, viciffitudes, and various fates, attending that important part of my life: much more, fhould I defcribe the many draughts, elevations, profiles, perfpectives, &c. of every palace and garden propofed, intended, and happily railed, by the ftrength of that faculty wherein all great geniufes excel, imagination. At laff, the gods and fate have fixed me on the borders of the Thames, in the districts of Richmond and Twickenham: it is here I have paffed an entire year of my life, without any fixed abode in London, or more than calling a tranfitory glance (for a day or two at moft in a month) on the pomps of the town. It is here I hope to receive you, Sir, returned from eternizing the Ireland of this age. For you my tructures rife; for you my colonades extend their wings; for you my groves afpire, and rofes bloom. And, to fay truth, I hope pofterity (which, no doubt, will be made acquainted with all thefe things) will look upon it as one of the principal motives of my architecture, that it was a manfion prepared to receive you, against your own fhould fall to dust, which is deftined to be the tomb of poor Frank and Betty, and the immortal monument of the fidelity of two fuch fervants, who have excelled in conftancy the very rats of your family. What more can I tell you of myfelf? fo much, and yet all put together fo little, that I fcarce care or know how to do it. But the very reasons that are against putting it upon paper, are as ftrong for telling it you in perfon; and I am uneafy to be fo long denied the fatisfaction of it. At prefent I confider you bound in by the Irish fea, like the ghofts in Virgil, Trifti palus inamabilis unda Alligat, et novies Styx circumfufa cercet! and I cannot exprefs how I long to renew our old intercourfe and conversation, our morning conferences in bed in the fame room, our evening walks in the park, our amufing voyages on the water, our philofophical fuppers, our lectures, our differtations, our gravities, our reveries, our fooleries, or what not ?-This awakens the memory of fome of those who have made a part in all these. Poor Parnelle, Garth, Rowe! You justly reprove me for not speaking of the death of the laft: Parnelle was too much in my mind, to whofe memory I am erecting the best What he gave me to monument I can. publish was but a fmall part of what he left behind him; but it was the best, and I will not make it worfe by enlarging it. I would fain know if he be buried at Chester, or Dublin'; and what care has been, or is to be taken for his monument, &c. Yet I have not neglected my devoirs to Mr. Rowe; I am writing this very day his epitaph for WestminsterAbbey.-After thefe, the best natured of men, Sir Samuel Garth, has left me in the truest concern for his lofs. His death was very heroical, and yet unaffected enough to have made a faint or a philofopher famous. But ill tongues, and worse hearts, have branded even his last moments, as wrongfully as they did his life, with irreligion. You must have heard many tales on this fubject; but if ever there was a good Chriftian, without knowing himself to be so, it was Dr. Garth. Your, &c. HE gaiety of your letter proves you THE not fo ftudious of wealth as many of your profeffion are, fince you can derive matter of mirth from want of business. You are none of thofe lawyers who deferve the motto of the devil, Circuit quérens quem devoret. But your Circuit will at least procure you one of the greatest of temporal bleffings, health. What an advantageous circumftance is it, for one that loves rambling fo well, to be a grave and reputable rambler! while (like your fellow circuiteer, the fun) you travel the round of the earth, and behold all the iniquities under the heavens. You are much a fuperior genius to me in ram |