engrafted in his large Mind? If he had not been fhackled with the Chain of mistaken Faith, he had been (nay, as it was, he was) a Wonder, and future Ages will read him with Admiration of Applause, defpairing (as I believe most do now defpair) of feeing another Poet, to bring in Comparifon, in those Ways of Writing, in which he wrote and excell'd; for he excell'd in all he attempted. The Stile of Milton, nor his Manner, belong'd not to our Poet, Milton's Fame is built upon a lafting Foundation, without a Rival in any Refpect; but neither could he have come near our Poet, attempting in his Manner, lefs ftill could our Poet do in the Hudibraftick Way, though he admir'd Butler, he did nothing to resemble him, he hated bad Imitations, and feems wholly to have ow'd what is not his own, as to Numbers, to Waller and Dryden, and two better Masters none need ftudy; he lov'd Cowley, but copied nothing from him, and Chaucer as a Wit, but for Numbers, our Language was then hardly begun to be polish'd, yet the Strength of that Prince of the English Poets Genius, fometimes carried him as high, and as eafy Flights, as any of the Moderns, of which many Examples might be given: We think his Wit unequall'd by any Modern, taking them in better Language, as they appear now, What will they do when the Duft of as much Time, as fince Chaucer, fhall obfcure them to the future Ages? So that we are no longer to feek for an unanswerable Reason for Mrs. Blount's publick and confefs'd Admiration for our Poet; fhe, the fartheft in the World from a Coquet, had as little of the Prude, a Prude would never have had any Charms for Mr. Pope, to whom Mrs. Howe faid one Day, You Men call us Strange Names, fome of them I don't understand, Coquetry, indeed, I guess at; but Prudery, for Heaven's

"Sake

Sake make me know thorougly what that Prudery is. Mr. Pope wrote her an Answer in the Leaf of an Ivory Book.

W

HAT is Prudery? 'Tis a Beldam,

Seen with Wit and Beauty feldom, 'Tis a Fear that starts at Shadows, 'Tis (no, 'tis n't) like Mifs Meadows, 'Tis a Virgin hard of Feature, Old, and void of all good Nature; Lean and fretful, would feem wife, Yet plays the Fool before fhe dies. 'Tis an ugly envious Shrew,

That rails at dear L'Epell and You.

On the Death of Mrs. Blount's Brother, who died of the Small Pox, which though she had never had, did not deter her from being conftantly with him. This must be acknowledged a Sifterly Love beyond the common Pitch, and fhews fuch Abfence of Fear and Prefence of Mind, as is not to be expected int the Nature of her Sex, and muft furprize every Body. On this Occafion we fay Mr. Pope fent her the following.

Dear Madam,

AVING no less Admiration for your Courage and good Nature, than Sympathy with your Grief, I am so highly fenfible of both the one and the other, that if I were capable to render you thofe Commendations which were juftly due to you, and that Comfort whereof you stand in Need, I must confefs I fhould be much troubled where to begin; for what Obligations can be more equally inforcing, than to render to so eminent a Virtue the Honour it merits; and to fo violent Affliction the Comfort it VOL. II. requires ?

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requires? But I am to blame to put a Distance be-tween these two Things, fince Charity has fo perfectly united them, that the fond Affiftance you afforded your late Brother, fhould now prove an extraordinary Comfort to you, fince God will beftow that on you out of Juftice, which others obtain out of his Indulgence: his infinite Goodness being fuch, as will not fuffer, unrewarded, fo exemplary an A&t of Tenderness, as what, through a Contempt of your own Life, engaged you in the Offices of the beft and tendereft Sifter in the World, beyond the Limits of all Obligations; and by an admirable Conftancy, made you affured amidit a Danger that terrifies the moft Daring.

Upon this Account am I confident that he will preferve you from the foul Diftemper you were above fearing, and will shower on you, as a Reward of. your Virtue, the Bleffings which are wish'd you by Dear Madam, &c.

After her Brother's Death he tells her, that fheftill went on gaining greater Power over him. He, at her Defire, which he calls a Command, fent her fome Verfes, which he fays if fhe fhould think very ill ones, fhe is the more obliged to him, in that he knowing it as well as fhe, had not forborn to fend them to her; and then adds; " And, to deal freely "with you, a lefs Power than what you have within: "THESE FEW DAYS gained upon me, would not "have been fufficient to have prevailed with me to do: "it." He affures her, that without her Command they had never known arry Place but in his own Me mory. But the faireft and openeft Declaration of the real Paffion of Love that can be made is a little farther in the Letter which we now have before us, and of which we are now speaking. "I perceive, Ma

«dam,

dam, fays he, that where it was my Defign to "fend you a Letter of Excufe and Compliment, I ❝am fallen into one of Love; but I wifh all the o"ther Defects you shall find in it were as pardonable

as that. In the mean Time let me affure you, "that I have not of a long Time been fo engaged, "and that there are many in the World to whom I "would not fay fo much, even though they held a "Dagger at my Throat:"

To this Letter Mr. Pope receiv'd an Answer, in which the Lady let him understand, that it was no Ways difagreeable to her; and gives him Liberty, though in an indirect Manner, to style himself her Admirer. She takes Occafion to speak of Alexander the Great in her Letter, and fays feveral very witty and obliging Things in fuch a Manner, as if the was at the fame Time ignorant of it, leaving the Applications to him, who fhe knew was fufficiently able to make them, and this was Cause of another Letter of Compliment and Thanks from Mr. Popes

Dear Madam,

THO

HOUGH my Liberty were, as you fay, greater than Alexander's, it were more than recompenced by the Thanks you have been pleased to return it. Even his Ambition, infatiable as it was, would by fo extraordinary a Favour have been limited. He would have valued this Honour more highly than the Perfian Diadem; and he would not have envied Achilles the Praifes of Homer, might he have had your's. In like Manner, Madam, confidering the Reputation you do me, if I envy his, it is not fo much that which he hath acquired, as that you have beftowed on him, and he hath received no Honours, which I do not look upon my own; unlefs it be that you do him, when you call him your

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Gallant,

Gallant. Neither his own Vanity, nor his Flatter ers have ever advanced any Thing fo advantagious to him, and the Quality of the Son of Jupiter Ammon was not fo glorious as that. But if nothing can cure me of the Jealoufy I have of it, yet, Madam, knowing you as I do, I am confident if you do him a Favour, it is not fo much because he is the greatest of Mankind, as because it is two Thousand Years fince he was. However it be, we may fee, in this, the Greatness of his Fortune, which, not able to forfake him fo many Years after his Death, adds to his Conquefts a Perfon, which celebrates them more than the Wife and Daughter of Darius; and hath re-infused into him a Soul greater than that of the World he hath fubdued.

I should fear by your Example to write in too high a Style, but can a Man aim at one too high, fpeaking of you and Alexander? I befeech you, Madam, to affure yourself I have for you the fame Paffion you have for him; and that the Admiration of your Virtues fhall ever engage me to be,

Dear Madam, &c.

The Merits of this Lady and Mr. Pope's Gallantry had almost hurried us beyond the Thoughts of the Epiftle of the Characters of Women. A certain La

dy, whofe Name for Virtue and Rectitude of Manners has been too confpicuous not to be feen by every Body who has the leaft Knowledge of her, and who in her Youth was thought one of the handsomest Women of Quality, took Mr. Pope to Talk about the aforefaid Epiftle, pointing out feveral Places fatirical enough, about which he excufed himself with faying, that there were Women (though happily unknown to her Ladyfhip) of fuch Characters, and by that Means thought to get off from a Rebuke he knew

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