AS I take ingratitude to be a greater crime than impertinence, I chufe rather to run the rifque of being thought guilty of the latter, than not to return you my thanks for a very agreeable entertainment you just now gave me. I have accidentally met with your Rape of the Lock here, having never seen it before. Style, painting, judgment, fpirit, I had already admired in other of your writings; but in this I am charm'd with the magic of your invention, with all those images, allufions, and inexplicable beauties, which you raife fo furprisingly, and at the fame time fo naturally, out of a trifle. And yet I cannot fay that I was more pleas'd with the reading of it, than I am with the pretext it gives me to renew in your thoughts, the remembrance of one who values no happinefs beyond the friendship of men of wit, learning, and good-nature.

I remember to have heard you mention fome hal form'd defign of coming to Italy. What might we not expect from a mufe that fings fo well in the bleak climate

of

of England, if the felt the fame warm fun, and breathed he fame air with Virgil and Horace?

There are here an incredible number of poets, that have all the inclination, but want the genius, or perhaps the art of the Ancients. Some among them who underftand English, begin to relifh our authors; and Fam informed that at Florence they have tranflated Milton into Italian verfe. If one who knows fo well how to write like the old Latin poets, came among them, it would probably be a means to retrieve them from their cold, trivial conceits, to an imitation of their predeceffors.

As merchants, antiquaries, men of pleasure, &c. have all different views in travelling; I know not whether it might not be worth a poet's while to travel, in order to ftore his mind with ftrong images of nature.

Green fields and groves, flowery meadows and purling ftreams are no were in fuch perfection as in England: but

if

you would know lightfome days, warm funs, and blue ikies, you must come to come to Italy; and to enable a man to defcribe rocks and precipices, it is abfolutely neceffary that he pafs the Alps.

You will eafily perceive that it is felf-intereft makes me fo fond of giving advice to one who has no need of it. If you came into thefe parts I should fly to fee you. I am here (by the favour of my good friend the Dean of St. Patrick's) in quality of Chaplain to the Earl of Peterborough; who about three months fince left the greatest part of his family in this town. God knows how long wc fhall ftay here. I am

Your, &c.

THO', as you rightly remark, I pay my tax but once in half a year, yet you fhall fee by this letter upón the neck of my last, that I pay a double tax, as we non

jurors

jurors ought to do. Your acquaintance on this fide of the fea are under terrible apprehenfions from your long stay in Ireland, that you may grow too polite for them; for we think (fince the great fuccefs of fuch a play as the Non-juror) that politeness is gone over the water. But others are of opinion it has been longer among you, and was introduced much about the fame time with frogs, and with equal fuccefs. Poor Poetry! the little that is left of it here longs to cross the feas, and leave Eufden in full and peaceable poffeffion of the British laurel and we begin to with you had the finging of our poets, as well as the croaking of our frogs to yourselves, in fæcula fæculorum. It would be well in exchange if Parnelle, and two or three more of your fwans would come hither, efpecially that fwan, who like a true moderh one, does not fing at all, Dr. Swift, I am (like the reft of the world) a fufferer by his idleness. Indeed I hate that any man fhould be idle, while I muft tranflate and comment; and I may the more fincerely with for good poetry from others, because I am become a perfon out of the queftion; for a Tranflator is no more a poet, than a Taylor is a man. You are, doubtless, perfuaded of the validity of that famous verfe,

'Tis Expectation makes a Bleffing dear:

but why would you make your friends fonder of you than they are? There is no manner of need of it. We begin to expect you no more than Anti chrift; a man that hath abfented himself fo long from his friends ought to be put into the Gazette.

Every body here has great need of you. Many faces have died for want of your pencil, and blooming ladies have wither'd in expecting your return. Even Frank and Betty (that conftant pair) cannot confole themselves for your abfence; I fancy they will be forc'd to make their own picture in a pretty babe, before you come home: 'twill be a noble fubject for a family piece. Come then, and having peopled Ireland with a world of beautiful shadows, cóme to us, and fee with that eye

(which like the eye of the world, creates beauties by looking on them) fee, I fay, how England has alter'd the airs of all its heads in your abfence; and with what fneaking city attitudes our inoft celebrated perfonages appear, in the mere mortal works of our painters.

Mr. Fortefcue is much yours; Gay commemorates you; and lastly (to climb by just steps and degrees) my Lord Burlington defires you may be put in mind of him. His gardens flourish, his ftructures rife, his pictures arrive, and (what is far more valuable than all) his own good qualities daily extend themselves to all about him of whom I the meanest (next to fome Italian fiddlers and English Bricklayers) am a living inftance. Adieu.

LETTER II,

To the fame.

Nov. 14, 1716.

IF

F I had not done my utmost to lead my life fo pleafantly as to forget all misfortunes, I fhould tell you I reckoned your abfence no finall one; but I hope you have also had many good and pleasant reafons to forget your friends on this fide the world. If a wifh could tranfport me to you and your prefent companions, I could do the fame. Dr. Swift, I believe, is a very good landlord, and a chearful hoft at his own table: I suppose he has perfectly learnt himself, what he has taught fo ma ny others, rupta non infanire lagena: elfe he would not make a proper hoft for your humble fervant, who (you know) tho' he drinks a glafs as feldom as any man, con trives to break one as often. But 'tis 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 laziness, 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 fay

ing nothing to me is by faying all the good you can of me, which is, that I heartily love and efteem the Dean and Dr. Parnelle.

Gay is yours and theirs. His fpirit is awakened very much in the cafe 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 abufed Dr. Swift. I have alfo fuffered in the like caufe, and fhall fuffer more: unless 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'll be as proud as Scipio, and fay (fince I am reduced to fkin and bone) Ingrata patria, ne ossa quidem habeas.

LETTER IV, 1!

To the fame. de oy b

Nov. 29, 1716. THAT you have not heard from me of late, ascribe

not to the ufual laziness 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 conversation of Dr. Clarke: He entertain'd me with several 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 Batrocom. of Homer,

Having nam'd this latter piece, give me leave to afk what is become of Dr. Parnelle and his frogs? Oblitufque meorum, oblivifcendus et illis, might be Horace's with, but

He tranflated the Batrochom. of Homer, which is printed amongst his Poems: