attention; and next week I propose myself the honour of kissing your Lordship's hands at Battersea. Every mark of the friendship your Lordship is pleased to honour me with, will be received by me with equal regard and satisfaction. Nor can it be otherwise. No man ever reverenced the virtues, or admired the talents of another, more sincerely than I admire those which place you at the head of all your contemporaries; and yet (for the sake of my country) I could almost wish (I know your Lordship does heartily) that I had reason to share this veneration, amongst many, which is almost confined to one.

Warburton's impudent edition (for he has enlarged into nine volumes what the Author could but just with some art spin into six) I ran over during the two days I have stay'd in Bath, and I entirely agree with what your Lordship has resolved upon it. He has not only changed the situation of many verses in his Author, but has certainly fathered upon him some of his own. I know them by the mark of the beast.

Extract of a Letter of Dr. Warburton.

"With regard to Mr. Mallet's declaration, there is only one way to convince me he is not the Author of that infamous Libel, which is, by taking an opportunity of disowning it publicly. I think my honour concerned that it be publicly known, that I had no hand in the Letter to Lord Bolingbroke, merely on account of the Apollo Story, and I shall do it on the first occasion. If Mr. M. does not do the same with regard to this Libel, I shall consider him as the

Author of it, and act in consequence of this belief. This I desire you would let Mr. Mallet know, and, if he chooses, let him have a transcript of what I here say. On the back of the copy of this Letter Mr. Mallet wrote, "N. B. I never took the slightest notice of this impudent and silly threatening Letter from Warburton. The writer I had no reason to be afraid of -the man I abhorred. A head filled with paradoxes unproved and unproveable; a heart overflowing with virulence and the most studious malice. N. B. I never wrote a pamphlet, nor a sentence in any pamphlet, concerning this wrong-headed dogmatical pedant."

LETTER LII.

FROM MR. GAY TO MR. POPE.

ON THE THREE HOURS AFTER MARRIAGE.

DEAR POPE,

Too late I see, and confess myself mistaken in relation to the Comedy; yet I do not think, had I followed your advice, and only introduced the mummy, that the absence of the crocodile had saved it. I can't help laughing myself (though the vulgar do not consider it was designed to look ridiculous), to think how the poor monster and mummy were dashed at their reception; and when the cry was loudest, I thought that if the thing had been written by another, I should have deemed the town in some measure mistaken; and as to your apprehension that

this may do us future injury, do not think of it; the Doctor has a more valuable name than can be hurt by any thing of this nature, and yours is doubly safe. I will, if any shame there be, take it all to myself, and indeed I ought, the motion being first mine, and never heartily approved by you.

LETTER LIII.

I WILL not describe Blenheim in particular, not to forestal your expectations before you see it: only take a short account, which, I will hazard my little credit, is no unjust one. I never saw so great a thing with so much littleness in it: I think the architect built it entirely in complaisance to the taste of its owners; for it is the most inhospitable thing imaginable, and the most selfish: it has, like their own hearts, no room for strangers, and no reception for any person of superior quality to themselves. There are but just two apartments, for the master and mistress, below; and but two apartments above (very much inferior to them), in the whole house. When you look upon the outside, you'd think it large enough for a prince; when you see the inside, it is too little for a subject; and has not conveniency to lodge a common family. It is a house of entries and passages; among which there are three vista's through the whole, very uselessly handsome. There is what might have been a fine gallery, but spoiled by two arches towards the end of it, which take away the sight of several of the windows. There

are two ordinary staircases instead of one great one. The best things within the house are the hall, which is indeed noble and well proportioned; and the cellars and offices underground, which are the most commodious, and the best contrived of the whole. At the top of the building are several cupola's and little turrets, that have but an ill effect, and make the building look at once finical and heavy. What seems of the best taste, is that front towards the gardens, which is not yet loaded with these turrets. The two sides of the building are entirely spoiled by two monstrous bow-windows, which stand just in the middle, instead of doors; and, as if it were fatal, that some trifling littleness should every where destroy the grandeur, there are in the chief front two semi-circles of a lower structure than the rest, that cut off the angles, and look as if they were purposely designed to hide a loftier and nobler piece of building, the top of which appears above them. In a word, the whole is a most expensive absurdity; and the Duke of Shrewsbury gave a true character of it, when he said, it was a great quarry of stones above ground.

We paid a visit to the Spring where Rosamond bathed herself; on a hill, where remains only a piece of a wall of the old palace of Henry II. We toasted her shade in the cold water, not without a thought or two, scarce so cold as the liquor we drank it in. I dare not tell you what they were, and so hasten to conclude,

Your, etc.

LETTER LIV.

MR. POPE TO LORD OXFORD.

MY LORD, September 22, 1732. Ir was a grief to me not to be able to snatch one day more to be happy with you, before you left the town; and it added to the vexation, when I found myself, within a week after, obliged to do that for business which I could not for pleasure, for I was kept four days there, multa gemens. I am extremely sensible, my Lord, of the many great distinctions you have shewn me, the original of all which I attributed to your piety to your father, for whom my respect was too sincere to be exprest in poetry: and if, from the continuance of your good opinion, I may derive some imagination that you thought me not a worse man than a poet, it is a greater obligation to me personally, than even the other. I hope my having taken an opportunity, the only way my poor abilities can, of telling all men I no less esteem and love the son, will not be ungrateful to you, or quite displeasing. If any objection to the manner of it occur to your Lordship, I depend on you, both as a friend and a judge, to tell me so. Otherwise I will

interpret your silence as a consent to let me acquaint every body that I am (what I truly feel myself), my Lord, your ever affectionate and obliged humble

servant.

My Lady and Lady Margaret don't know how much I am theirs, unless your Lordship will tell them