TO MR. POPE.

August 30, 1716.

I HAD the favour of yours by Mr. Ford, of whom, before any other question relating to your health, or fortune, or success as a poet, I inquired your principles in the common form," Is he a whig or a tory?" I am sorry to find they are not so well tallied to the present juncture as I could wish. I always thought the terms of facto and jure had been introduced by the poets, and that possession of any sort in kings was held an unexceptionable title in the court of Parnassus. If you do not grow a perfect good subject in all its present latitudes, I shall conclude you are become rich, and able to live without dedications to men in power, whereby one great inconvenience will follow, that you and the world and posterity will be utterly ignorant of their virtues. For, either your brethren have miserably deceived us these hundred years past: or power confers virtue, as naturally as five of your popish sacraments do grace. You sleep less, and drink more.-But your master Horace was vini somnique benignus*: and, as I take it, both are proper for your trade. At to wine, there are a thousand poetical texts to confirm the one; and as to the other, I know it was anciently the custom to sleep in temples for those who would consult the oracles, "Who dictates to me slumberingt," &c.

* "Indulgent to himself in sleep and wine."

Dr. WARTON.

+ Milton, Paradise Lost, book ix. verse 23. On this passage Dr. Warton remarks, that "this is the only time Swift ever alludes to Milton; who was of an order of writers very different from what Swift admired and imitated ;" an assertion which it may not be improper to controvert. over an allusion to Milton's prose writings; he twice men

To pass

You are an ill catholick, or a worse geographer, for I can assure you, Ireland is not Paradise, and I appeal even to any Spanish divine, whether addresses were ever made to a friend in Hell or Purgatory. And who are all those enemies you hint at? I can only think of Curll, Gildon, 'squire Burnet, Blackmore, and a few others, whose fame I have forgot: tools, in my opinion, as necessary for a good writer, as pen, ink and paper. And besides, I would fain know whether every draper does not show you three or four damned pieces of stuff to set off his good one? However, I will grant that one thorough bookselling rogue is better qualified to vex an author, than all his contemporary scribblers in critick or satire, not only by

tions "Paradise Lost" with commendation; but what is still more to the purpose, in the late excellent edition of Milton's "Poetical works," by the Rev. H. J. Todd, vol. II. p. 137, a note is given from the margin of Swift's copy of Paradise Lost; which having excited my curiosity, I have been favoured with the following extract of a letter addressed to Mr. Todd from J. C. Walker, esq. well known to the literary world by his Historial Memoir on Italian Tragedy, and several other ingenious publications: "I had once in my possession a book which might be of great use to you, a copy of the Paradise Lost, with marginal notes in the handwriting of the celebrated Dean Swift, for the use of Mrs. Johnson and her friend Mrs. Dingley. But this book, which belonged to the late Mr. John Whiteway (whose name appears in Swift's will), is, I fear, lost; nor can I find an exact transcript which I made of these notes. It is true these notes were rather explanatory than critical; they served to justify Dr. Johnson's assertion," that Stella had not much literature. By the remarks on bishop Burnet's preface to the "History of the Reformation;" on "Gibbs's Psalms;" and on .. Mackay's Characters;" some idea may be formed of the value of his marginal notes. And it may not be unacceptable to the curious to be informed that in the library of the marquis of Lansdown is preserved the Dean's copy of Herbert's History of Henry VIII. (which, it appears in vol. I. he had in 1696-7 been reading with attention); and also his copy of bishop Burnet's "History of the Reforma tion." N.

stolen copies of what was incorrect or unfit for the publick, but by downright laying other men's dulness at your door. I had a long design upon the ears of that Curll, when I was in credit; but the rogue would never allow me a fair stroke at them, although my penknife was ready drawn and sharp. I can hardly believe the relation of his being poisoned, although the historian pretends to have been an eyewitness : but I beg pardon, sack might do it, although ratsbane would not. I never saw the thing you mention as falsely imputed to you; but I think the frolicks of merry hours, even when we are guilty, should not be left to the mercy of our best friends, until Curll and his resemblers are hanged.

With submission to the better judgment of you and your friends, I take your project of an employment under the Turks to be idle and unnecessary. Have a little patience, and you will find more merit and encouragement at home, by the same methods. You are ungrateful to your country; quit but your own religion, and ridicule ours, and that will allow you a free choice for any other, or for none at all, and pay you well into the bargain. Therefore pray do not run and disgrace us among the Turks, by telling them you were forced to leave your native home, because we would oblige you to be a christian; whereas we will make it appear to all the world, that we only compelled you to be a whig.

There is a young ingenious quaker in this town who writes verses to his mistress, not very correct, but in a strain purely what a poetical quaker should do, commending her look and habit, &c. It gave me a hint that a set of quaker pastorals might succeed, if our friend Gay* could fancy it, and I think it a fruitful subject; pray hear what he says, I be

Gay did write a pastoral of this kind, which is published in his works. WARBURTON,

lieve farther, the pastoral ridicule is not exhausted; and that a porter, footman, or chairman's pastoral might do well. Or what think you of a Newgate pastoral, among the whores and thieves there* ?

Lastly to conclude, I love you never the worse for seldom writing to you. I am in an obscure scene, where you know neither thing nor person. I can only answer yours, which I promise to do after a sort whenever you think fit to employ me.

can

But I assure you, the scene and the times have depressed me wonderfully, for I will impute no defect. to those two paltry years which have slipped by since I had the happiness to see you. I am with the

truest esteem,

Yours, &c.

FROM THE DUCHESS OF ORMOND.

SIR,

September 14, 1716. I HAD the ill fortune to miss of that letter you upbraid me with. I had deserved any reproaches you could make me, if it had come to my hands, and I not made due acknowledgments for your inquiries after me. I will make you wish you had not been so angry with me; for I will scrawl out myself, what you would rather Betty or my maid had, for they would have made shorter work of it; but I will answer every part of yours, that you obliged me with by Mr. Ford.

First, as to the lady you mention, the reason I had not seen her in a great while was, my being in the country. To tell you the truth, I believe her husband has been a better courtier, than either she, or

*Swift himself wrote one of this kind," Dermot and Sheelah." WARBURTON.

any of her sex could be; because men have it in their power to serve, and I believe hers has effectually done what lay in him.

You kindly ask how my affairs go. There is yet no end of them, and God only knows when there will be. For when every thing was thought done, a sudden blast has blown all hopes away, and then they give me fresh expectations. In the mean time I am forced to live upon the borrow; my goods all taken away; that I shall not have so much as a bed to lie upon, but what I must buy; and no money of my own to do that with; so that you may imagine me in a cheerful way. I pray God support me.

The gentleman you inquired after is very well now. The illness you heard he had, he has been subject to a good while. What you desire, I wish were in the power of either his brother or me; but all will go from both of us of every kind. Only they say, that the clothes upon my back I may perhaps call my own, and that's all. I was obliged to leave the country. was so ill there, that if I had not come to the physicians, I cannot tell what might have happened. My. daughter is your most humble servant, and is pretty

well in health.

I

Am not I one of my word, and troubled you twice as long as you would have wished? But you will find by this, that a woman's pen should no more be set at work than her tongue; for she never knows when to let either of them rest. But my paper puts me in mind, that I have but just room to tell you, I wish much to see you here, if it could be with your satisfaction; and that I am, with great sincerity, sir, Your faithful humble servant,

M. ORMOND.

VOL. XVI.