nature ever increase, to the glory and pleasure of thofe they would injure; may they reprefent me what they will, as long as you think me, what I am,

LETTER XVIII.

Your, &c.

July 13, 1714.

γου YOU mention the account I gave you fome time ago of the things which Philips faid in his foolishness but I can't tell, from any thing in your letter, whether you received a long one from me about a fortnight fince. It was principally intended to thank you for the laft obliging favour you did me; and perhaps for that reason you pass it in filence. I there launch'd into fome account of my temporal affairs, and intend now to give you fome hints of my fpiritual. The conclufion of your letter draws this upon you, where you tell me you prayed for me. Your proceeding, Sir, is contrary to that of most other friends, who never talk of praying for a man after they have done him a fervice, but only when they will do him none. Nothing can be more kind than the hint you give me of the vanity of human fciences, which, I affure you, I am daily more convinced of; and indeed I have, for fome years paft, look'd upon all of them no better than amufements. To make them the ultimate end of our purfuit, is a miferable and fhort ambition, which will drop from us at every little disappointment here, and even, in cafe of no disappointments here, will infallibly defert us hereafter. The utmost fame they are capable of beftowing, is never worth the pains they coft us, and the time they lofe us. If you attain the top of your defires that way, all thofe who envy you will do you harm; and of those who admire you, few will do you good, The unfuccefsful writers are your declared enemies, and probably the fuccefsful your fecret ones. for those hate not more to be excelled, than these to be rival'd; and at the upshot, after a life of perpetual appli

cation,

cation, you reflect that you have been doing nothing for yourself, and that the fame or lefs industry might have gain'd you a friendfhip that can never deceive or end, a fatisfaction which praise cannot bestow, nor vanity feel; and a glory, which (tho' in one refpect like fame, not to be had till after death) yet fhall be felt and enjoy'd to eternity. Thefe, dear Sir, are unfeignedly my fentiments, whenever I think at all; for half the things that employ our heads deferve not the name of thoughts, they are only ftronger dreams of impreffion's upon the imagination: our schemes of government, our fyftems of philofophy, our golden worlds of poetry, are all but fo many fhadowy images and airy prospects, which arife to us but so much the livelier and more frequent, as we are more overcaft with the darkness, and disturbed with the fumes, of human vanity.

The fame thing that makes old men willing to leave this world, makes me willing to leave poetry, long habit and weariness of the fame track. Homer will work a curé upon me; fifteen thousand verfes are equivalent to fourscore years, to make one old in rhyme and I should be forry and afhamed, to go on jingling to the last step, like a waggoner's horfe, in the fame road, and fo leave my bells to the next filly animal that will be proud of them. That man makes a mean figure in the eyes of reafon, who is meafuring fyllables and coupling rhymes, when he fhould be mending his own foul, and fecuring his own immortality. If I had not this opinion, I should be unworthy even of thofe fmall and limited parts which God has given me; and unworthy of the friendship of such a man as you. I am

Your, &c.

LETTER XIX.

July 25, 1714.

I

Have no better excufe to offer you, that I have omitted a task naturally fo pleafing to me as converfing VOL. IV.

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upon

upon paper with you, but that my time and eyes have been wholly employ'd upon Homer, whom, I almoft fear, I fhall find but one way of imitating, which is, in his blindness. I am perpetually afflicted with head-achs that very much affect my fight, and indeed fince my coming hither I have scarce past an hour agreeably, except that in which I read your letter. I would seriously have you think, you have no man who more truly knows to place a right value on your friendship, than he who least deferves it on all other accounts than his due fenfe of it. But, let me tell you, you can hardly guess what a task you undertake, when you profess yourself my friend: there are fome Tories who will take you for a Whig, fome Whigs who will take you for a Tory, fome Protestants who will efteem you a rank Papist, and some Papists who will account you a Heretic.

I find, by dear experience, we live in an age, where it is criminal to be moderate; and where no one man can be allowed to be juft to all men. The notions of right and wrong are fo far ftrain'd, that perhaps to be in the right fo very violently, may be of worse consequence than to be easily and quietly in the wrong. I really wish all men fo well, that, I am fatisfied, but few can wish me fo; but if thofe few are fuch as tell me they do, I am content, for they are the best people I know. While you' believe me what I profefs as to religion, I can bear any thing the bigotted may fay: while Mr. Congreve likes my poetry, I can endure Dennis, and a thousand more like him; while the most honeft and moral of each party me no ill man, I can eafily bear that the moft violent and mad of all parties rife up to throw dirt at me.

think

I muft expect an hundred attacks upon the publication of my Homer, Whoever in our times would be a profeffor of learning above his fellows, ought at the very firft to enter the world with the conftancy and resolution of a primitive Chriftian, and be prepared to fuffer all fort of public perfecution. It is certainly to be lamented, that if any man does but endeavour to diftinguish himself, or gratify

gratify others by his ftudies, he is immediately treated as a common enemy, instead of being looked upon as a common friend; and affaulted as generally as if his whole defign were to prejudice the ftate, or ruin the public. I will venture to fay, no man ever rofe to any degree of perfection in writing, but thro' obftinacy, and an invetérate resolution against the stream of mankind; so that if the world has received any benefit from the labours of the learned, it was in its own despite: for when firft they effay their parts, all people in general are prejudiced against new beginners; and when they have got a little above contempt, then some particular persons, who were before unfortunate in their own attempts, are fworn foes to them, only because they fucceed.-Upon the whole, one may fay of the best writers, that they pay a fevere fine for their fame, which it is always in the power of the moft worthless part of mankind to levy upon them when they please.

I am, &c.

LETTER XX.

To Mr. JERVAS.

July 28, 1714.

AM juft enter'd upon the old way of life again, fleep and mufing. It is my employment to revive the old of paft ages to the prefent, as it is yours to tranfmit the young of the present, to the future. I am copying the great mafter in one art, with the fame love and diligence with which the Painters hereafter will copy you in another.

Thus, I fhould begin my epiftle to you, if it were a Dedicatory one. But as it is a friendly letter, you are to find nothing mention'd in your own praise, but what only one in the world is witness to, your particular goodnatur'd offices to me.

I am cut out from any thing but common acknowledgments, or common difcourfe: the firft you would take

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ill,

ill, though I told but half what I ought; fo in fhort the laft only remains.

And as for the laft, what can you expect from a man who has not talk'd these five days? who is withdrawing his thoughts as far as he can, from all the prefent world, its cuftoms, and its manners, to be fully poffefs'd and absorpt in the past? When people talk of going to Church, I think of facrifices and libations; when I fee the parfon, I address him as Chryfes, prieft of Apollo; and inftead of the Lord's prayer, I begin,

God of the filver Bow, &c.

While you in the world are concern'd about the Proteftant Succeffion, I confider only how Menelaus may recover Helen, and the Trojan war be put to a speedy conclufion. I never inquire if the queen be well or not, but heartily wish to be at Hector's funeral. The only things I regard in this life, are, whether my friends are well? whether my Tranflation go well on? whether Dennis be writing criticisms? whether any body will answer him, fince I don't? and whether Lintot be not yet broke?

I am, &c.

I

LETTER XXI.

To the fame..

17

Aug 16, 1714.

Thank you for your good offices, which are numberlefs. Homer advances fo faft, that he begins to look bout for the ornaments he is to appear in, like a modif modern author,

Picture in the front,

With bays and wicked rhyme upon't.

I have the greateft proof in nature, at prefent, of the amufing power of Poetry, for it takes me up fo entirely, that I fcarce fee what paffes under my nofe, and hear nothing that is faid about me. To follow poetry as one ought,

the ent

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