against the methods now used there, and I believe I might have been more useful that way than any other. Bacon and Locke did not follow the common paths, but beat out new ones; and you see what good they have done; but much more is wanting. Aldrich did a great deal of good too, in his way. There should be such people in the universities; but nothing can be done effectually till the government takes it in hand to encourage and animate such a reformation "." The assiduous application of Pope to his studies had, as might be expected, an unfavourable effect on his health, which was now reduced to so bad a state, that "after trying physicians for a long time in vain, he resolved to give way to his distemper, and sat down calmly in a full expectation of death in a short time." Under this idea he wrote letters to take a last farewell of his more particular friends, and among the rest, to the Abbé Southcote in London. Fortunately the Abbé went immediately to Dr. Ratcliffe, told him Pope's case, got full directions from him, and carried them down himself to Pope, then, at a friend's house, a hundred miles from town. The chief thing the Doctor ordered him was to apply less, and to ride every day, and his compliance with this advice soon restored him to health. Upwards of twenty years afterwards, Pope had an opportunity of rendering in return an important service to Mr. Southcote, by obtaining for him, through the means of Sir Robert Walpole, the nomination to an abbey near Avignon; an incident which shows he was not less mindful of benefits conferred upon him than of injuries received 8. But independent of any advantages which Pope 7 Spence's Anec. p. 280. Singer's ed. It is well understood that much has been done in our universities since the time of Pope to remedy those defects and abuses, to which he probably meant to allude. 8 Spence's Anec. p. 7. Singer's ed. could derive from his early studies and acquirements, he possessed from nature some endowments which are essential to the poetical character, and which neither industry nor learning can bestow. The most important of these was, an ardent, susceptible, and affectionate mind, which rendered him capable of participating in the feelings, and interesting himself in the happiness of others, and without which it would have been impossible for him to have embodied in his writings those touching sentiments of tenderness and passion, which, proceeding from the impulses of his own heart, strike immediately upon that of the reader. It is asserted by Mrs. Blount that "she had often seen him weep, in reading very tender and melancholy subjects";" and he has himself informed us, that he was always particularly struck with that passage in Homer, where he makes Priam's grief for the loss of Hector break out into anger against his attendants and sons; and could never read it, without weeping for the distress of that unfortunate old prince. This sensibility of disposition, which appears so frequently in his poems and letters, was however accompanied by another propensity of a very different kind, which rendered him no less an object of fear, and perhaps of respect to his enemies, than the former did of esteem and attachment to his friends. This appeared in a quick and irritable temper, liable to take offence at whatever seemed intended to injure or degrade him either in his character or writings, and was accompanied by a deep penetration into the peculiarities, faults, and weaknesses of others, and a keen, sarcastic vein of wit, which enabled him to describe them in such a manner that all the world acknowledged the likeness. This disposition, as has already been ob served, was apparent even in his childhood, and was cultivated or indulged by him through life, not only as his surest defence against insult and abuse, but as his readiest weapon of attack whenever he conceived there was occasion for his interference. That this was the light in which he himself considered it, is apparent from various passages in his works, in which he has hung it up for the notice of both friends and foes. Hence we are plainly told, that "Whoe'er offends at some unlucky time, Slides into verse, or hitches in a rhyme." Nor was this resentment of offence confined merely to himself. Conscious of the dignity of his office, and the importance of his own powers, he considered every flagrant violation of public order, justice, and decency, as entitling him to mark it with his severest reprehension; nor is it without reason that he has congratulated himself in those exulting lines: "Yes, I am proud, I must be proud to see Such were the acquirements, talents, and dispositions, with which Pope entered upon the great theatre of the world, and into the literary circles of the times; a brief statement of which seemed requisite to enable us to judge of the use he made of them, and to determine whether he applied them properly in the course of his future life. One of the earliest of those literary friends to whom Pope attached himself during his residence in Windsor Forest, was Sir William Trumbull, who had been ambassador to the Ottoman Porte, and was afterwards, in the year 1691, appointed one of the secretaries of state to King William, with the Duke of Shrewsbury, which office he resigned in 1697, and retired to East-Ham stead, the place of his nativity, near Binfield'. As Sir William was an excellent scholar, and particularly devoted to the study of the classic authors, it was not long before he and Pope became acquainted; and notwithstanding the disparity of their years, a friendship was established between them, which only the death of Sir William dissolved. During their early intimacy they were accustomed not only to read together, and converse on the Roman writers in Sir William's retirement, but to take a ride together three or four days in the week, and at last almost every day; and when they were separated, an epistolary correspondence subsisted between them, which throws considerable light on the characters of both. This correspondence appears, from the works of Pope, to have commenced in October, 1705, on the 19th of which month, a letter is given from Sir William to his young friend, from which we find that their literary pursuits were not confined to the classic authors, but were extended to the best writers of their own country. It further appears that Pope had at this early age been delighted with the minor poems of Milton; and had sent a small volume (containing the Allegro, Penseroso, Lycidas, and the Masque of Comus) to Sir William, who, it seems, had not before read them; a clear proof, as Dr. Warton justly observes, how little they were known or regarded in general. After thanking Pope for the book, and declaring, that next to enjoying the company of so good a friend, the welcomest thing was to hear from him, Sir William adds: "I expected to find what I have met with, an admirable genius in those poems, not only because they were Milton's, or were approved by Sir Henry Wooton, but because you had commended them; and give me leave to tell you, that I know nobody so like to equal him as yourself. Only do not afford more cause of complaints against you that you suffer nothing of yours to come abroad; which in this age, in which wit and true sense is more scarce than money, is a piece of such cruelty as your best friends can hardly pardon. I hope you will repent and amend. I could offer many reasons to this purpose, and such as you cannot answer with any sincerity, but that I dare not enlarge, for fear of engaging in a style of compliment, which has been so abused by fools and knaves, that it is become almost scandalous." In the year 1704 Pope had been introduced by Sir William Trumbull to Mr. Wycherley, who was then nearly seventy years of age; but the character of the parties was not to be determined by their time of life, and in temper and disposition Wycherley was perhaps the younger of the two. He had lived an irregular and dissipated life, and had injured his fortunes by an imprudent marriage with the Countess of Drogheda. On her death he was thrown into the Fleet prison, from which he was only released by the performance of his Plain Dealer, at which the king (James II.) attended. His reputation was still, however, considerable; and Pope, at that early period of his life, thought himself honoured by the acquaintance of a man, who ranked amongst the first writers of the age. The love of literature, and particularly of poetry, became the bond of their union, and a sincere and friendly attachment appears to have subsisted between them. One of Pope's biographers informs us, "that during this intercourse, the applause and compliments which they mutually bestowed on each other, were no less ridiculous, than a friendship between a sentimental libertine and a young man perfectly ignorant of the world, was unnatural." On this we may be allowed to observe, that with respect to a friendship between two persons, at |