care as little to stay behind you; and be full as uneafy to live in a country where I saw others perfeeuted by the rogues of my own religion, as where I was perfecuted myself by the rogues of yours. And it is not impoffible I might run into Áfia in fearch of liberty; for who would not rather live a freeman among a nation of flaves, than a flave among a nation of freemen?

In good earneft, if I knew your motions, and your exact time; I verily think, I fhould be once more happy in a fight of you next spring.

I'll conclude with a wifh, God fend you with us, or me with you.

LETTER XXII.

OU will find me more troublefome than ever

Y Brutus did his evil Genius; I fhall meet you

your me

in more places than one, and often refresh
mory before you arrive at your Philippi. These fha-
dows of me (my letters) will be haunting you from
time to time, and putting you in mind of the man
who has really fuffer'd very much from you, and whom
you have robb'd of the most valuable of his enjoy-
ments, your converfation. The advantage of hear-
ing your fentiments by difcovering mine, was what
I always thought a great one, and even worth the
rifque I generally run of manifefting my own indif-
cretion. You then rewarded my truft in you the
moment it was given, for you pleas'd or inform'd
me the minute you anfwer'd. I must now be con-
tented with more flow returns. However, 'tis some
pleasure, that your thoughts upon paper will be a
more lafting poffeffion to me, and that I fhall no
longer have caufe to complain of a lofs I have fo of-
ten regretted, that of any thing you faid, which I
happen'd to forget. In earneft, Madam, if I were

to

to write to you as often as I think of you, it must be every day of my life. I attend you in spirit thro' all your ways, I follow you thro' every ftage in books of travels, and fear for you thro' whole folio's; you make me fhrink at the paft dangers of dead travellers; and if I read of a delightful profpect, or agree. able place, I hope it yet fubfifts to please you. I enquire the roads, the amufements, the company, of every town and country thro' which you pass, with as much diligence, as if I were to fet out next week to overtake you. In a word, no one can have you more conftantly in mind, not even your Guardian-angel (if you have one) and I am willing to indulge fo much Popery as to fancy fome Being takes care of you, who knows your value better than you do yourfelf: I am willing to think that Heaven never gave fo much felf-neglect and refolution to a woman, to occafion her calamity; but am pious enough to believe thofe qualities must be intended to conduce to her benefit and her glory.

Your first short letter only serves to fhow me you are alive: it puts me in mind of the first dove that return'd to Noah, and just made him know it had found no reft abroad.

There is nothing in it that pleases me, but when you tell me you had no fea-fickness. I beg your next may give me all the pleasure it can, that is, tell me any that you receive. You can make no discoveties that will be half fo valuable to me as thofe of your own mind. Nothing that regards the ftates or kingdoms you pass thro', will engage fo much of my curiofity or concern, as what relates to yourself: Your welfare, to fay truth, is more at my heart than that of Chriftendom.

I am fure I may defend the truth, tho' perhaps not the virtue, of this declaration. One is ignorant, or doubtful at beft, of the merits of differing religions and governments: but private virtues one L 2

can

can be fure of. I therefore know what particular Perfon has defert enough to merit being happier than others, but not what Nation deserves to conquer or opprefs another. You will fay, I am not publicSpirited; let it be fo, I may have too many tenderneffes, particular regards, or narrow views; but at the fame time I am certain that whoever wants these, can never have a Public spirit; for (as a friend of mine fays) how is it poffible for that man to love twenty thousand people, who never loved one?

I communicated your letter to Mr. C-, he thinks of you and talks of you as he ought, I mean as I do, and one always thinks that to be juft as it ought. His health and mine are now fo good, that we wish with all our fouls you were a witness of it. We never meet but we lament over you: we pay a kind of weekly rites to your memory, where we ftrow flowers of rhetoric, and offer fuch libations to your name as it would be profane to call Toafting. The Duke of B-m is fometimes the High Prieft of your praises; and upon the whole, I believe there are as few men that are not forry at your departure, as women that are; for, you know, most of your sex want good fenfe, and therefore muft want generofity: You have fo much of both, that, I am fure, you pardon them; for one cannot but forgive whatever one defpifes. For my part I hate a great many women for your fake, and undervalue all the rest. 'Tis you are to blame, and may God revenge it upon you, with all those bleffings and earthly profperities, which, the Divines tell us, are the cause of our perdition; for if he makes you happy in this world, I dare truft your own virtue to do it in the other. I am

Your, &c.

LET

To Mrs. A RABELLA FERMOR.
On her Marriage.

YOU

OU are by this time fatisfied how much the tenderness of one man of merit is to be preferred to the addresses of a thousand. And by this time the Gentleman you have made choice of is fenfible, how great is the joy of having all those charms and good qualities which have pleased fo many, now applied to please one only. It was but juft, that the fame Virtues which gave you reputation, should give you happiness; and I can wish you no greater, than that you may receive it in as high a degree yourself, as fo much good humour must infallibly give it to your husband.

It may be expected, perhaps, that one who has the title of Poet fhould fay fomething more polite on this occafion: But I am really more a well-wisher to your felicity, than a celebrater of your beauty. Befides, you are now a married woman, and in a way to be a great many better things than a fine lady; fuch as an excellent wife, a faithful friend, a tender parent, and at last, as the confequence of them all, a faint in heaven. You ought now to hear nothing but that, which was all you ever defired to hear (whatever others may have spoken to you) I mean Truth and it is with the utmost that I affure you, no friend you have can more rejoice in any good that befals you, is more fincerely delighted with the profpect of your future happiness, or more unfeignedly defires a long continuance of it.

I hope, you will think it but juft, that a man who will certainly be spoken of as your admirer, after he is dead, may have the happiness to be esteemed, while he is living,

Your, &c.

LETTERS

TO AND FROM

Sir WILLIAM TRUMBULL,

From 1705 to 1716.

LETTER I.

Sir WILLIAM TRUMBULL to Mr. POPE.

I

SIR,

Oct. 19, 1705:

Return you the Book you were pleased to fend me, and with it your obliging letter, which deferves my particular acknowledgment: for, next to the pleasure of enjoying the company of fo good a friend, the welcomeft thing to me is to hear from him. 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 Hen. Wootton, but because you had commended them; and give me leave to tell you, that I know no body fo like to equal him, even at the age he wrote most of them, as yourself. Only do not afford more caufe of complaints against you, that you fuffer no

*Secretary of State to King William the Third. P. L'Allegro, Il Penferofo, Lycidas, and the Mafque of Comus.

P.

thing