Some cannot bear Ever-greens, and call them Never-greens; fome who are only angry at them when they are cut in Shapes, and give the modern Gardiners the Name of Ever-green Taylors; fome have no Diflike to Cones and Cubes, but would have them cut in Foreft-Trees; fome are in a Paffion a gainst any Thing in Shape, even against clipp'd Hedges, which they call green Walls. We have the Tame Sort of Criticks in Poetry; one is fond of nothing but Heroicks; another can't relish Tragedy; another hates Paftorals, but delights mightily (as all little Wits do) in Epigrams. Let me add there are the fame in Divinity, where many leading Criticks are for rooting up more than they plant, and would leave the Lord's Vineyard either very thinly furnish'd, or very oddly trimm'd: But Mr. Pope had the Happinefs to like all that was good, and excluded no beautiful Tree or Flower his Garden.

It is natural for a Man, when he has taken a great Deal of Pains about any Thing, to be fond of it, efpecially if it answers to the Idea of Beauty which he firft intended it fhould: This was Mr. Pope's Cafe in his Gardens and Grotto, of which laft fee his own Description to Mr. Blount, dated June 2, 1725.

You

OU fhew yourself a just Man and a Friend, hole in those Gueffes and Suppofitions you make at the poffible Reasons of my Silence; every one of which is a true one. As to Forgetfulness of you and yours, I affure you the promifcuous Converfations of the Town ferve only to put me in Mind of better, and more quiet, to be had in a Corner of the World (undisturb'd, innocent, ferene, and fenfible) with fuch as you. Let no Accefs of any Diftruft make you think of me differently in a cloudy Day from what you do in the most fun-fhiny Wea

ther.

up a

ther. Let the young Ladies be affured I make nothing new in my Gardens, without wifhing to fee he Print of their fairy Steps in every Part of 'em. I have put the last Hand to my Works of this Kind, in happily finishing the fubterraneous Way and Grotto: I there found a Spring of the clearest Water, which falls in a perpetual Rill, that ecchoes thro' the Cavern Day and Night. From the River Thames, you fee thro' my Arch Walk of the Wilderness to a Kind of open Temple, wholly compos'd of Shells in the ruftick Manner; and from that Distance under the Temple you look down thro' a floping Arcade of Trees, and fee the Sails on the River paffing fuddenly and vanishing, as through a perfpective Glafs. When you fhut the Doors of this Grotto, it becomes on the Inftant, from a luminous Room, a Camera obfcura; on the Walls of which all the Objects of the River, Hills, Woods, and Boats, are forming a moving Picture in their vifible Radiations; and when you have a Mind to light it up, it affords you a very different Scene; it is finithed with Shells interfperfed with Pieces of Lookingglafs in angular Forms; and in the Cieling is a Star of the fame Material, at which when a Lamp (of an orbicular Figure of thin Alabafter) is hung in the Middle, a thoufand pointed Rays glitter and are reflected over the Place. There are connected to this Grotto by a narrower Paffage two Porches, one towards the River of fmooth Stones full of Light and open; the other toward the Garden fhadow'd with Trees, rough with Shells, Flints, and Iron-ore. The Bottom is paved with fimple Pebble, as is alfo the adjoining Walk up the Wilderness to the Temple, in the natural Tafte, agreeing not ill with the little dripping Murmur, and the aquatick Idea of the whole Place. It wants nothing to compleat it but a

good

f

good Statue with an Infcription, like that beautiful
antique one which you know I am fo fond of ;
Hujus Nympha loci, facri cuftodia fontis
Dormio, dum blanda fentio murmur aquæ.
Parce meum, quifquis tangis cava marmora fomnum
Rumpere, feu bibas, five lavere, tace.

Nymph of the Grot, thefe facred Springs I keep,
And to the Murmur of these Waters fleep;
Ah spare my Slumbers, gently tread the Cave!
And drink in Silence, or in Silence lave!

You'll think I have been very poetical in this Description, but it is pretty near the Truth. I wish you were here to bear Teftimony how little it owes to Art, either the Place itself, or the Defcription I give of it.

I am, &c.

Here is no great Matter of Wonder, if what feem'd a little Vanity fhould appear, though in Reality there might be none; but wearied out with the Impertinence of troublesome Vifitants, which prevented him from enjoying that Privacy and Retirement he lov'd, might make him speak in Terms feeming to fay, that he was indeed above thofe Intrufions, and those bemus'd Parfons (as he calls them) and maudlin Poeteffes fhould have known it, have waited his Leifure, and not have behav'd with fo little Decency, as to ftop his Chariot, or rufh into his House and Gardens, without knowing whether it would incommode him or no.

Here, in all Likelihood, the Vein of Satire had ftopp'd, had not many Perfons, taking Shame to themselves, made a great Stir about these Epistles; and a certain Lady of Quality and a great Wit took

Offence;

Offence; (once in Efteem enough to have the lowing Character :)

No Mortal as yet

To queftion your Empire has dar'd;
But Men of Difcerning,

Have thought that in Learning,
To yield to a Lady was hard.

II.

Impertinent Schools,

With musty dull Rules,

Have Reading to Females deny'd,
So Papists refuse

The BIBLE to use,

Left Flocks fhould be wife as their Guide.

III.

'Twas a WOMAN at first,
(Indeed fhe was curft)

In Knowledge that tafted Delights
And Sages agree,

That Laws thou'd decree,

To the firft Poffeffor the Right.

IV.

Then bravely, fair Dame,
Refume the old Claim,

Which to your whole Sex does belong;
And let MEN receive,

From a Second bright EVE,

The Knowledge of Right and of Wrong.

VOL. II.

fol

མ་

V.

But if the First EVE

Hard Doom did receive,
When only One Apple had fhe,
What a Punishment new,

Shall be found out for

you,

Who, tafting, have robb'd the whole Tree.

But (fuch is the Uncertainty of all Things) now from one Step of Diflike and Disgust to another, there was a total Misunderstanding between Mr. Pope and her; and as fhe took all Occafions to infinuate Things to the World difadvantagious to Mr. Pope, that he did not understand Greek, but was forc❜d to hire Perfons to tranflate Homer, and then have no farther Labour than to put it into Rhyme; that he was a Man of an unquiet Spirit and dangerous Converfation; that he was a Tool for Rome, and a great many other Reports, the bafer for being false; fo he, on the other Hand, (as 'twas reported to her) gave himself great Liberties about her; and great Mockery was made, and much loud Laughter, at the Story of a Vifit, it was pretended the faid Lady was permitted to make to the Seraglio, when her Hufband was Ambassador at the Porte. It is certain, let the Tale arife from whence it will, it was very fcandalous, neither can we think (if true) that it could poffibly, have ever come to their Knowledge; for it is to be thought, that the Lady, for the Sake of her own Fame, would never have divulg'd fo ftrange a Secret; feeing that the World afforded no Remedy for the one Act, and the other flight Injury of being obliged to conform to the Custom of the Eaft, a little Time would repair. However, as moft Stories of the like Nature do, it gained Credit, and

moft