same time the solid cash you sold it for, of which Virgil in his exile knew nothing in those days, and which will make every place easy to you. I for my part am not so happy; my parva rura are fastened to me, so that I cannot exchange them, as you have,* for more portable means of subsistence; and yet I hope to gather enough to make the Patriam fugimus supportable to me; it is what I am resolved on, with my Penates. If therefore you ask me, to whom you shall complain? I will exhort you to leave laziness and the elms of St. James's Park, and choose to join the other two proposals in one, safety and friendship, (the least of which is a good motive for most things, as the *The following Letter, relating to the sale of Pope's father's house and property in Windsor-Forest, is in the British Museum : "SIR, "To John Vander Bempden. Bowles. Thursday. Upon what you told me when I was last to wait on you, I deferred treating farther for the rent-charge, till you could be certain what sum you could conveniently raise at present towards the purchase. If there were three of the 400l. wanting, we would take your bond; for as to a mortgage on the rent-charge, my father is not qualified to take it, for by an act of parliament he cannot buy land, though he may sell it. "However, if you desire to make the purchase soon, I believe I have a friend who will lend you the 1,000l. on the same security you offer us. If you have any other scruple, you will be pleased to tell me fairly; but if this purchase be convenient to you, we shall think of treating with no other, and be ready upon your answer; since I think what I here propose entirely accommodates all the difficulty you seem to be at. I am, Sir, "Your very humble servant, "A. POPE." other is for almost every thing,) and go with me where war will not reach us, nor paltry constables summon us to vestries. The future epistle you flatter me with, will find me still here, and I think I may be here a month longer. Whenever I go from hence, one of the few reasons to make me regret my home will be, that I shall not have the pleasure of saying to you, Hic tamen hanc mecum poteris requiescere noctem, which would have rendered this place more agreeable than ever else it could be to me; for I protest, it is with the utmost sincerity that I assure you, I am entirely, Dear Sir, Your, &c. LETTER VIII. TO MR. BLOUNT. June 22, 1717. Ir a regard both to public and private affairs may plead a lawful excuse in behalf of a negligent correspondent, I have really a very good title to it. I cannot say whether it is a felicity or unhappiness, that I am obliged at this time to give my whole application to Homer; when without that employment, my thoughts must turn upon what is less agreeable, the violence, madness, and resentment of modern war-makers,* which are likely to prove (to some people at least) more fatal than * This was written in the year of the affair at Preston. Pope. the same qualities in Achilles did to his unfortu nate countrymen. Though the change of my scene of life, from Windsor-Forest to the side of the Thames, be one of the grand eras of my days, and may be called a notable period in so inconsiderable a history; yet you can scarce imagine any hero passing from one stage of life to another, with so much tranquillity, so easy a transition, and so laudable a behaviour. I am become so truly a citizen of the world (according to Plato's expression) that I look with equal indifference on what I have left, and on what I have gained. The times and amusements past are not more like a dream to me, than those which are present: I lie in a refreshing kind of inaction, and have one comfort at least from obscurity, that the darkness helps me to sleep the better. I now and then reflect upon the enjoyment of my friends, whom, I fancy, I remember much as separate spirits do us, at tender intervals, neither interrupting their own employments, nor altogether careless of ours, but in general constantly wishing us well, and hoping to have us one day in their company. To grow indifferent to the world is to grow philosophical, or religious (whichsoever of those turns we chance to take); and indeed the world is such a thing, as one that thinks pretty much must either laugh at, or be angry with: but if we laugh at it, they say we are proud; and if we are angry with it, they say we are ill-natured. So the most politic way is to seem always better pleased than one can be, greater admirers, greater lovers, and, in short, greater fools, than we really are: so shall we live comfortably with our families, quietly with our neighbours, favoured by our masters, and happy with our mistresses. I have filled my paper, and so adieu. LETTER IX. TO MR. BLOUNT. Sept. 8, 1717. I THINK your leaving England was like a good man's leaving the world, with the blessed conscience of having acted well in it; and I hope you have received your reward, in being happy where I believe, in the religious country you you are. inhabit, you will be better pleased to find I consider you in this light, than if I compared you to those Greeks and Romans, whose constancy in suffering pain, and whose resolution in pursuit of a generous end, you would rather imitate than boast of. But I had a melancholy hint the other day, as if you were yet a martyr to the fatigue your virtue made you undergo on this side the water. I beg, if your health be restored to you, not to deny me the joy of knowing it. Your endeavours of service and good advice to the poor Papists, put me in mind of Noah's preaching forty years to those folks that were to be drowned at last. At the worst I heartily wish your Ark may find an Ararat, and the wife and family (the hopes of the good patriarch) land safely after the deluge upon the shore of Totness. If I durst mix profane with sacred history, I would cheer you with the old tale of Brutus the wandering Trojan, who found on that very coast the happy end of his peregrinations and adventures. I have very lately read Geoffrey of Monmouth, (to whom your Cornwall is not a little beholden,) in the translation of a clergyman* in my neighbourhood. The poor man is highly concerned to vindicate Geoffrey's veracity as an historian; and told me he was perfectly astonished, we of the Roman communion could doubt of the legends of his Giants, while we believe those of our Saints. I am forced to make a fair composition with him; and, by crediting some of the wonders of Corinæus and Gogmagog, have brought him so far already, that * Aaron Thompson, of Queen's College, Oxon, (but his name does not occur either in the Oxford or Cambridge graduates,) published this work in 1718, 8vo. "cum præfatione," says Tanner, "satis longa." C. Bowles. + Pope gave to this clergyman the following lines, being a translation of a prayer of Brutus, which ought to be preserved : Goddess of woods, tremendous in the chase, Warton. |