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Name is mentioned with Honour, even in a Land flowing with Tories. I had the good Fortune there to be often in the Converfation of Dr. Clark: He entertain'd me with feveral Drawings, and particu→ larly with the original Defign of Inigo Jones's Whiteball. I there faw and reverenc'd fome of your first Pieces; which future Painters are to look upon as we Poets do on the Culex of Virgil, and Batrachom of Homer.

Having named this latter Piece, give me Leave to ask what is become of Dr. Parnelle and his Frogs? Oblitufque meorum, oblivifcendus & illis, might be Horace's Wifh, but will never be mine while I have fuch meorums as Dr. Parnelle and Dr. Swift. I hope the Spring will restore you to us, and with you all the Beauties and Colours of Nature. Not but I congratulate you on the Pleasure you must take in being admir'd in your own Country, which fo feldom happens to Prophets and Poets: But in this you have the Advantage of Poets; you are Master of an Art that must profper and grow rich, as long as People love or are proud of themselves, or their own Per

fons. However, you have stay'd long enough methinks, to have painted all the numberless Hiftories of old Ogygia. If you have begun to be historical, I recommend to your Hand the Story which every pious Irishman ought to begin with, that of St. Patrick; to the End you may be oblig'd (as Dr. Parnelle was, when he tranflated the Batrachommachia) to come into England to copy the Frogs, and fuch other Vermine as were never seen in that Land fince the Time of that Confeffor.

I long to see you a History Painter. You have already done enough for the Private, do fomething for the Publick; and be not confined, like the Reft, to draw only fuch filly Stories as our own Faces tell of

us. The Ancients too expect you should do them Right; thofe Statues from which you learn'd your beautiful and noble Ideas, demand it as a Piece of Oratitude from you, to make them truly known to all Nations, in the Account you intend to write of their Characters. I hope you think more warmly than ever of that Defign.

As to your Enquiry about your House, when I come within the Walls they put me in mind of those of Carthage, where your Friend, like the wandring Trojan,

-animum Pictura pafcit inani;

For the fpacious Manfion, like a Turkish Caravanferah, entertains the Vagabonds with only bare Lodging. I rule the Family very ill, keep bad Hours, and let out your Pictures about the Town. See what it is to have a Poet in your Houfe! Frank indeed does all he can in fuch a Circumftance; for confidering he has a wild Beast in it, he conftantly keeps the Door chain'd: Every Time it is open'd, the Links rattle, the rufty Hinges roar. The House seems so fenfible that you are its Support, that it is ready to drop in your Abfence; but I ftill truft myself under its Roof, as depending that Providence will preserve so many Raphaels, Titians, and Guidos as are lodg'd in your Cabinet. Surely the Sins of one Poet can hardly be fo heavy, as to bring an old House over the Heads of fo many Painters. In a Word your Houfe is falling, but what of that? I am only a Lodger, and

Dear Sir, &c.

To this Friend Mr. Pope fent an Epiftle in Verfe, with Mr. Dryden's Tranflation of Frefnoy's Art of Painting. This Epiftle is wrote in a Stile truly

friendly,

friendly, yet truly poetical: He closes it with the following beautiful moral Reflection:

Yet fhould the Graces all thy Figures place,
And breathe an Air divine on ev'ry Face;
Yet fhould the Mufes bid my Numbers roll,
Strong as their Charms, and gentle as their Soul;
With Zeuxis, Helen thy Bridgwater vie,
And these be fung till Granville's Myra die :
Alas! how little from the Grave we claim?
Thou but preferv'ft a Face, and I a Name.

Which was more pleafing to Mr. Jervas than all the Reft of the Poem, and without Doubt our Poet on Purpose inserted it, knowing him to be a thinking Man, and one who spent many Hours in Reading, chiefly Books of Moral Philofophy, to which Study he inclin'd, and few were better able to exprefs in Words as well as in Colours, the Difference of the Paffions; so that he would have gain'd the Reputation (though not so much Money) as a History Painter. Whoever obferves any of his Pourtraits, will fee a certain Expreffion, with a Livelinefs in the Cast of the Face, or Countenance, that convinces in a Manner, without feeing the Originals, that they are Refemblances of real Life, not the meer Picture of the Painter's Hand, but of the Idea the Object fix'd upon his Mind.

He once drew the Picture of a Lady of Quality, who return'd it on his Hands, as not thinking it fo handsome as fhe herfelf was, and he painted another Pourtrait for her, with which fhe was exceedingly pleas'd, for it was very beautiful; Mr. Jervas confefs'd, that except the Colour of the Hair, and a few Reiterations, (that there might be, though ever fo diftant, fome Refemblance) he had taken it from

one

one of his own Pictures of the Dutchefs of Bridgewate, one of the Duke of Marlborough's Daughters, and esteem'd at that Time a finish'd Beauty. A little while after, the firft mentioned Lady dying, her Husband being defirous to have a true Likeness, purchas'd that first painted by by Mr. Jervas, and gave him ten Guineas more than the Countess was to have given him for it.

We have not forgot Mr. Pope's Epiftles, it would be lofing Sight of fome of the choiceft Poems in our Language: They are, that is I mean the Ethic ones, to bad Men, almost the fame as the Dunciad to bad Poets, and as there, fo in these Epiftles, he does not entirely spare the Ladies; it had been Pity to neglect doing Good to that lovely and defireable Part of the Creation, befides, that they might have triumph'd too much over the Men, and, finding themselves free from Judgment and Penalties, might have indulg'd their Humour, Vanity, or Caprice, without Fear, or Blufhing; but this, we think, is now happily prevented.

Of thefe Ethic Epiftles, to take them in Order, let us begin with that to Sir Richard Temple, Lord Cobham, of the Knowledge and Characters of Men, which begins thus:

Yes, you defpife the Man to Books confin'd, Who from his Study rails at human Kind; Tho' what he learns he speaks, and may advance Some gen'ral Maxims, or be right by Chance. The coxcomb Bird fo talkative and grave, [Knave. That from his Cage cries Cuckold, Whore, and Tho' many a Paffenger he rightly call,

You hold him no Philofopher at all.

feems

And though all may not agree to what he says (for he feems to think it impoffible to know Men without knowing Books) concerning the Knowledge of Men, yet his Characters (for there lies our Author's Beauty) all muft applaud, as well as his Sentiment, that we differ at Times as much from ourselves, as we do from one another, and oftentimes tir'd in Purfuit of one Thing, we yield to another, which at first we thought not of, and fo Actions done meerly by Accident, feem to the unthinking Part of the World, our moral Purpose.

Behold! if Fortune, or a Mistress frowns, Some plunge in Bus'nefs, others fhave their Crowns: To cafe the Soul of one oppreffive Weight, This quits an Empire, that embroils a State: The fame aduft Complexion has impell'd Charles to the Convent, † Philip to the Field.

Not therefore humble he who seeks Retreat, Pride guides his Steps and bids him fhun the Great. Who combats bravely, is not therefore brave; He dreads a Death-Bed like the meaneft Slave. Who reafons wifely, is not therefore wife; His Pride in reas'ning, not in acting lies.

There is nothing more difficult than to know the real Character of a Man, further than the present Action, and that must be done in our Sight, we must

fee

Charles V.

+ Philip II.

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