my little excursions are but like those of a shopkeeper, who walks every day a mile or two before his own door, but minds his business all the while. Your letter of the Cause lately before you, I could not but communicate to some ladies of your acquaintance. I am of opinion, if you continued a correspondence of the same sort during a whole Circuit, it could not fail to please the sex, better than half the novels they read; there would be in them what they love above all things, a most happy union of Truth and Scandal. I assure you the Bath affords nothing equal to it: it is on the contrary full of grave and sad men, Mr. Baron S. Lord Chief Justice A. Judge P. and Counsellor B. who has a large pimple on the tip of his nose, but thinks it inconsistent with his gravity to wear a patch, notwithstanding the precedent of an eminent judge.

I am, dear Sir,

Your, etc.

MY LORD,

LETTER XI.

TO THE EARL OF BURLINGTON.

IF your Mare could speak 2, she would give an account of what extraordinary company she had on the road; which since she cannot do, I will.

2 The account of this journey is given with the most exquisite humour. I know of nothing in our language that equals it, except, perhaps, Mr. Colman's description, in a Terra Filius, of an expedition of his bookseller and his wife to Oxford.

It was the enterprising Mr. Lintot, the redoubtable rival of Mr. Tonson, who, mounted on a stonehorse, (no disagreeable companion to your Lordship's mare,) overtook me in Windsor-forest. He said, he heard I designed for Oxford, the seat of the Muses, and would, as my bookseller, by all means, accompany me thither.

I asked him where he got his horse? He answered he got it of his Publisher: "For that rogue my Printer (said he) disappointed me: I hoped to put him in a good humour by a treat at the tavern, of a brown fricassee of rabbits, which cost two shillings, with two quarts of wine, besides my conversation. I thought myself cock-sure of his horse, which he readily promised me, but said that Mr. Tonson had just such another design of going to Cambridge, expecting there the copy of a new kind of Horace from Dr. and if Mr. Tonson went, he was preengaged to attend him, being to have the printing of the said copy.

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"So in short, I borrowed this stonehorse of my Publisher, which he had of Mr. Oldmixon for a debt; he lent me too the pretty boy you see after me: he was a smutty dog yesterday, and cost me near two hours to wash the ink off his face; but the Devil is a fair-conditioned Devil, and very forward in his catechise: if you have any more bags, he shall carry them."

I thought Mr. Lintot's civility not to be neglected, so gave the boy a small bag, containing three shirts and an Elzevir Virgil; and mounting in an instant proceeded on the road, with my man before, my

courteous stationer beside, and the aforesaid devil

behind.

"Now damn

Mr. Lintot began in this manner. them! what if they should put it into the newspaper, how you and I went together to Oxford? what would I care? If I should go down into Sussex, they would say I was gone to the Speaker. But what of that? If my son were but big enough to go on with the business, by G―d I would keep as good company as old Jacob."

Hereupon I enquired of his son. "The lad (says he) has fine parts, but is somewhat sickly, much as you are. I spare for nothing in his Education at Westminster. Pray, don't you think Westminster to be the best school in England? most of the late Ministry came out of it, so did many of this Ministry. I hope the boy will make his fortune."

Don't you design to let him pass a year at Oxford? "To what purpose? (said he) the Universities do but make Pedants, and I intend to breed him a man of business."

As Mr. Lintot was talking, I observed he sat uneasy on his saddle, for which I expressed some solicitude: Nothing, says he, I can bear it well enough; but since we have the day before us, methinks it would be very pleasant for you to rest awhile under the woods. When we were alighted, "See here, what a mighty pretty Horace I have in my pocket! what if you amused yourself in turning an ode, till we mount again? Lord! if you pleased, what a clever Miscellany might you make at leisure hours?" Perhaps I may, said I, if we ride on; the motion is

an aid to my fancy, a round trot very much awakens my spirits; then jog on apace, and I'll think as hard as I can.

Silence ensued for a full hour; after which Mr. Lintot lugged the reins, stopped short and broke out, "Well, Sir, how far have you gone?" I answered, Seven miles. "Z-ds, Sir, said Lintot, I thought you had done seven stanzas. Oldsworth, in a ramble round Wimbleton-hill, would translate a whole ode in half this time. I'll say that for Oldsworth (though I lost by his Timothy's), he translates an ode of Horace the quickest of any man in England. I remember Dr. King3 would write verses in a tavern three hours after he could not speak: and there's Sir Richard, in that rumbling old chariot of his, between Fleet-ditch and St. Giles's pound, shall make you half a Job."

Pray, Mr. Lintot, (said I,) now you talk of Translators, what is your method of managing them? "Sir, (replied he,) those are the saddest pack of rogues in the world: in a hungry fit they'll swear they understand all the languages in the universe: I have known one of them take down a Greek book upon my counter, and cry, Ah, this is Hebrew, I must read it from the latter end. By G-d I can never be sure in these fellows, for I neither understand Greek, Latin, French, nor Italian myself. But this is my way; I agree with them for ten shillings per sheet, with a proviso, that I will have their doings corrected by whom I please; so by one or

Of the Commons, Author of the Art of Cookery and other forgotten Poetry.

other they are led at last to the true sense of an author; my judgment giving the negative to all my translators." But how are you secure those correctors may not impose upon you? "Why I get any civil gentleman (especially any Scotchman) that comes into my shop, to read the original to me in English; by this I know whether my first translator be deficient, and whether my corrector merits his money or not.

"I'll tell you what happened to me last month: I bargained with S* for a new version of Lucretius to publish against Tonson's; agreeing to pay the author so many shillings at his producing so many lines. He made a great progress in a very short time, and I gave it to the correcter to compare with the Latin; but he went directly to Creech's translation, and found it the same word for word, all but the first page. Now, what d'ye think I did? I arrested the translator for a cheat; nay, and I stopt the corrector's pay too, upon this proof that he had made use of Creech instead of the original."

Pray tell me next how you deal with the Critics? Sir, said he, nothing more easy. I can silence the

most formidable of them: the rich ones for a sheet apiece of the blotted manuscript, which cost me nothing; they'll go about with it to their acquaintance, and pretend they had it from the author, who submitted to their correction: this has given some of them such an air, that in time they come to be consulted with, and dedicated to, as the top Critics of the town. As for the poor Critics, I'll give you one instance of my management, by which you may