of his satirical and comical disposition); others, that you are insinuating yourself into the opinion of the ingenious Mr. What-do-ye-call-him. Some think you are preparing your Sermons for the press, and others that you will transform them into essays, and moral discourses. But the only excuse that I will allow you is, your attention to the life of Zoilus. The frogs already seem to croak for their transportation to England, and are sensible how much that Doctor is cursed and hated, who introduced their species into your nation; therefore, as you dread the wrath of St. Patrick, send them hither, and rid your kingdom of those pernicious and loquacious animals.

I have at length received your poem out of Mr. Addison's hands, which shall be sent as soon as you order it, and in what manner you shall appoint. I shall, in the mean time, give Mr. Tooke a packet for you, consisting of divers merry pieces; Mr. Gay's new farce; Mr. Burnet's Letter to Mr. Pope; Mr. Pope's Temple of Fame; Mr. Thomas Burnet's Grumbler on Mr. Gay; and the Bishop of Ailsbury's Elegy, written either by Mr. Cary or some other hand. Mr. Pope is reading a letter, and in the mean time I make use of the pen, to testify my uneasiness in not hearing from you. find success, even in the most trivial things, raises the indignation of scribblers: for I, for my Whatd'ye-call-it, could neither escape the fury of Mr. Burnet, or the German Doctor; then where will rage end, when Homer is to be translated? Let

I

Zoilus hasten to your friend's assistance, and envious criticism shall be no more. I am in hopes that we order our affairs so as to meet this summer at the Bath; for Mr. Pope and myself have thoughts of taking a trip thither. You shall preach, and we will write lampoons, for it is esteemed as great an honour to leave the Bath for fear of a broken head, as for a Terræ Filius of Oxford to be expelled. I have no place at court; therefore, that I may not entirely be without one every where, shew that I have a place in your remembrance.

Your most affectionate faithful servants,

A. POPE and J. GAY.

Homer will be published in three weeks.*

LETTER XVIII.

MR. JERVAS, DR. ARBUTHNOT, AND MR. POPE,†

TO DR. PARNELLE. †

DEAR MR. ARCHDEACON,

(1715.)

THOUGH my proportion of this epistle should be but a sketch in miniature, yet I take up half this page, having paid my club with the good company both for our dinner of chops, and for this paper. The poets will give you lively descrip

*This sufficiently marks the date of this joint epistle. † Written at a tavern after dinner.

Written after Jervas's return from Ireland. Bowles. Written before his journey, his intention of which is announced in this letter, but was postponed till the following year.

tions in their way; I shall only acquaint you with that which is directly my province. I have just set the last hand to a couplet, for so I may call two nymphs in one piece. They are Pope's favourites; and though few, you will guess, have cost me more pains than any nymphs can be worth. He is so unreasonable as to expect that I should have made them as beautiful upon canvas as he has done upon paper. If this same Mr. P should omit to write for the dear frogs,* and the Pervigilium, I must intreat you not to let me languish for them, as I have done ever since they crossed the seas. Remember by what neglects, &c. we missed them when we lost you, and therefore I have not yet forgiven any of those triflers that let them escape and run those hazards. I am going on at the old rate, and want you and the Dean prodigiously, and am in hopes of making you a visit this summer, and of hearing from you both now you are together. Fortescue, I am sure, will be concerned that he is not in Cornhill, to set his hand to these presents, not only as a witness, but as a Serviteur très-humble, C. JERVAS.

It is so great an honour to a poor Scotchman to be remembered at this time o' day, especially by an inhabitant of the Glacialis Ierne, that I take it

* Parnelle's translation of Homer's Battle of the Frogs, &c. and the Pervigilium Veneris of Catullus, published in his poems edited by Pope.

Bowles.

very thankfully, and have with my good friends remembered you at our table in the chop-house in Exchange-Alley. There wanted nothing to complete our happiness but your company, and our dear friend the Dean's: I am sure the whole entertainment would have been to his relish. Gay has got so much money by walking the streets,* that he is ready to set up his equipage: he is just going to the Bank to negociate some exchange bills. Mr. Pope delays his second volume of his Homer till the martial spirit of the rebels is quite quelled, it being judged that the first part did some harm that way. Our love again and again to the dear Dean; fuimus Tories; I can say no more. ARBUTHNOT.

When a man is conscious that he does no good himself, the next thing is to cause others to do some. I may claim some merit this way, in hastening this testimonial from your friends above writing their love to you indeed wants no spur, their ink wants no pen, their pen wants no hand, their hand wants no heart, and so forth (after the manner of Rabelais, which is betwixt some meaning and no meaning); and yet it may be said, when present thought and opportunity is wanting, their pens want ink, their hands want pens, their hearts

* The poem of Trivia, or the Art of Walking the Streets, by Gay.

Bowles.

This letter, which has hitherto appeared without a date, was probably written towards the latter part of 1715.

want hands, &c. till time, place, and conveniency concur to set them a-writing, as at present a sociable meeting, a good dinner, warm fire, and an easy situation do, to the joint labour and pleasure of this epistle.

Wherein, if I should say nothing, I should say much, (much being included in my love) though my love be such, that if I should say much, I should yet say nothing, it being (as Cowley says) equally impossible either to conceal, or to express it.

If I were to tell you the thing I wish above all things, it is to see you again; the next is to see here your treatise of Zoilus with the Batrachomuomachia, and the Pervigilium Veneris, both of which poems are master-pieces in several kinds; and I question not the prose is as excellent, in its sort, as the Essay on Homer. Nothing can be more glorious to that great author than that the same hand which raised his best statue, and decked it with its old laurels, should also hang up the scare-crow of his miserable critic, and gibbet up the carcase of Zoilus, to the terror of the witlings of posterity. More, and much more, upon this, and a thousand other subjects will be the matter of my next letter, wherein I must open all the friend to you. At this time I must be content with telling you I am faithfully, your most affectionate and humble servant,

A. POPE.