proaches? or is it that they who are to live together in another state, (for vera amicitia non nisi inter bonos,) begin to feel more strongly that divine sympathy which is to be the great band of their future society? There is no one thought which soothes my mind like this: I encourage my imagination to pursue it, and am heartily afflicted when another faculty* of the intellect comes boisterously in, and wakes me from so pleasing a dream, if it be a dream. I will dwell no more on œconomics than I have done in my former letter. Thus much only I say, that otium cum dignitate is to be had with 500l. a-year as well as with 5,000l.; the difference will be found in the value of the man, and not in that of the estate. I do assure you, that I have never quitted the design of collecting, revising, improving, and extending several materials which are still in my power; and I hope that the time of setting myself about this last

* Viz. Reason. Tully (to whom the letter-writer seems to allude) observes something like this on the like occasion, where, speaking of Plato's famous book of the Soul, he says, Nescio quomodo, dum lego, adsentior: cum posui librum, et mecum ipse de immortalitate animarum cœpi cogitare, adsentio illa omnis elabitur. Cicero seems to have had but a confused notion of the cause of the slippery nature of this assent, which the letter-writer has here explained, namely, that the imagination is always ready to indulge so flattering an idea, but severer reason corrects and disclaims it. As to RELIGION, that is out of the question: for Tully wrote to his few philosophic friends; though, as has been the fate of his lordship's first philosophy, (where this whole matter is explained at large,) it came at last into the hands of the public.

Warburton.

work of my life is not far off. Many papers of much curiosity and importance are lost, and some of them in a manner which would surprize and anger you. However, I shall be able to convey several great truths to posterity, so clearly and so authentically, that the Burnets and the Oldmixons of another age may rail, but not be able to deceive. Adieu, my friend. I have taken up more of this paper than belongs to me, since Pope is to write to you; no matter, for, upon recollection, the rules of proportion are not broken; he will say as much to you in one page, as I have said in three. Bid him talk to you of the work he is about, I hope in good earnest; it is a fine one; and will be, in his hands, an original. His sole complaint is, that he finds it too easy in the execution. This flatters his laziness, it flatters my judgment, who always thought that (universal as his talents are) this is eminently and peculiarly his, above all the writers I know living or dead; I do not except Horace.

On which, therefore, it appears, he was employed in 1729.

Warton.

LETTER XCIII.

MR. POPE TO DR. SWIFT.

November 28, 1729.

THIS letter (like all mine) will be a rhapsody; it is many years ago since I wrote as a wit.* How many occurrences or informations must one omit, if one determined to say nothing that one could not say prettily! I lately received from the widow of one dead correspondent, and the father of another, several of my own letters, of about fifteen and twenty years old; and it was not unentertaining to myself to observe, how and by what degrees I ceased to be a witty writer; as either my experience grew on the one hand, or my affection to my correspondents on the other. Now as I love you better than most I have ever met with in the world, and esteem you too the more, the longer I have compared you with the rest of the world, so inevitably I write to you more negligently, that is, more openly, and what all but such as love one another will call writing worse. I smile to think how Curll would be bit, were our epistles to fall into his hands, and how gloriously they would fall short of every ingenious reader's expectations!

You cannot imagine what a vanity it is to me, to have something to rebuke you for in the way of œconomy. I love the man that builds a house

* He used to value himself on this particular. Warburton.

subito ingenio, and makes a wall for a horse: then cries, "We wise men must think of nothing but getting ready money!" I am glad you approve my annuity all we have in this world is no more than an annuity, as to our own enjoyment: but I will increase your regard for my wisdom, and tell you, that this annuity includes also the life of another,* whose concern ought to be as near to me as my own, and with whom my whole prospects ought to finish. I throw my javelin of hope no farther. Cur brevi fortes jaculamur ævo, &c.

The second (as it is called, but indeed the eighth) edition of the Dunciad, with some additional notes and epigrams, shall be sent you, if I know any opportunity: if they reprint it with you, let them by all means follow that octavo edition. The Drapier's letters are again printed here, very laudably as to paper, print, &c. for you know I disapprove Irish politics, (as my commentator tells you), being a strong and jealous subject of England. The lady you mention, you ought not to complain of for not acknowledging your present; she having lately received a much richer present from Mr. Knight of the South Sea; and you are sensible she cannot ever return it to one in the condition of an outlaw. It is certain, as he can never expect any favour, his motive must be wholly disinterested. Will not this reflection make you blush? Your

He was mistaken in this. Knight was pardoned, and came home in the year 1742. Warburton.

continual deplorings of Ireland make me wish you were here long enough to forget those scenes that so afflict you: I am only in fear if you were, you would grow such a patriot here too, as not to be quite at ease, for your love of old England.-It is very possible, your journey, in the time I compute, might exactly tally with my intended one to you; and if you must soon again go back, you would not be unattended. For the poor woman decays perceptibly every week; and the winter may too probably put an end to a very long, and a very irreproachable life. My constant attendance on her does indeed affect my mind very much, and lessen extremely my desires of long life; since I see the best that can come of it is a miserable benediction. I look upon myself to be many years older in two years since you saw me: the natural imbecility of my body, joined now to this acquired old age of the mind, makes me at least as old as you, and we are the fitter to crawl down the hill together: I only desire I may be able to keep pace with you. My first friendship at sixteen, was contracted with a man of seventy, and I found him not grave enough or consistent enough for me, though we lived well to his death. I speak of old Mr. Wycherley; some letters of whom, by the bye, and of mine, the booksellers have got and printed not without the concurrence of a noble friend of mine and yours.* I do not much approve of it;

* See the occasion in the second and third paragraphs of the Preface to the first volume of Letters. Warburton.