grandeur of character, will still be Cæfar's, as in his history, fo in your poetry, fuperior to any. The perfon to whom you intended fo great a compliment as to addrefs that piece to his name, is very fenfible of your delicate manner of thinking: he bids me affure you, his own knowledge of your intention is fufficient pleasure to him, and defires you would not think of doing him either favour or justice, till the world knows better how to do itself the former, in doing you the latter. He is ftill detained here by the perverfeness of his affairs; and wifhes, as I most heartily do alfo, that fortune did not treat you fo much alike. The ftage is as ungrateful to you, as his country to him: you are both sure of posterity, and may fay in the mean time with Scipio, Ingrata patria, ne offa quidem habeas! Believe me most truly, Sir, SIR, LETTER XXIV. TO THE SAME. Your, etc. January, 26, 1730-1. I AM obliged to you for your compliment, and can truly fay, I never gave you just cause of complaint. You once mistook on a bookseller's idle report, and publicly expreffed your mistake; yet you miftook a fecond time, that two initial letters, only, were were meant of you, though every letter in the alphabet was put in the fame manner: and, in truth, (except fome few,) thofe letters were fet at random to occafion what they did occafion, the fufpicion of bad and jealous writers, of which number I could never reckon Mr. Hill, and most of whofe names I did not know. Upon this mistake you were too ready to attack me, in a paper of very pretty verses, in some public journal.---I should imagine the Dunciad meant you a real compliment, and fo it has been thought by many, who have asked, to whom that paffage made that oblique panegyric? As to the notes, I am weary of telling a great truth, which is, that I am not author of 'em; though I love truth fo well, as fairly to tell you, Sir, I think even that note a commendation, and should think myself not ill used to have the fame words faid' of me: therefore, believe me, I never was other than friendly to you, in my own mind. Have I not much more reason to complain of The Caveat? Where give me leave, Sir, to tell you, with the fame love of truth, and with the frankness it infpired, (which, I hope, you will fee, through this whole letter,) I am falfely abused, in being represented Sneakingly to approve, and want the worth to cherish, "or befriend men of merit." It is indeed, Sir, a very great error: I am forry the author of that reflection knew me no better, and happened to be unknown to those who could have better informed him for I have the charity to think, he was misled only by his ignorance of me, and the benevolence to forgive the worst thing that ever (in my opinion) was faid of me, on that fuppofition. I do faithfully affure you, I never was angry at any criticism, made on my poetry, by whomfoever: if I could do Mr. Dennis any humane office, I would, though I were fure he would abuse me perfonally tomorrow; therefore it is no great merit in me, to find, at my heart, I am your fervant. I am very forry you ever was of another opinion.-I fee, by many marks, you distinguished me from my cotemporary writers: had we known one another, you had distinguished me from others, as a man, and no ill, or illnatured one. I only wish you knew, as well as I do, how much I prefer qualities of the heart to those of the head: I vow to God, I never thought any great matters of my poetical capacity; I only thought it a little better, comparatively, than that of fome very mean writers, who are too proud. But, I do know certainly, my moral life is fuperior to that of most of the wits of these days. This is a filly letter, but it will fhew you my mind honestly, and, I hope, convince you, I can be, and am, Sir, Your, etc. LETTER XXV. FROM MR. HILL TO MR. POPE. SIR, January 28, 1730-1. OUR answer, regarding no part of mine but the YOUR conclufion, you must pardon my compliment to the close of yours, in return; if I agree with you, that your letter is weaker, than one would have expected. You affure me, that I did not know you fo well, as I might, had I happened to be known to others, who could have inftructed my ignorance; and I begin to find, indeed, that I was less acquainted with you, than I imagined: but your last letter has enlightened me, and I can never be in danger of miftaking you, for the future. Your enemies have often told me, that your Spleen was, at least, as distinguishable, as your genius: and it will be kinder, I think, to believe them, than impute to rudeness, or ill manners, the return you were pleased to make, for the civility, with which I addreffed you. I will, therefore, fuppofe you to have been peevish, or in pain, while you were writing me this letter: and, upon that fuppofition, fhall endeavour to undeceive you. If I did not love you, as a good man, while I esteem you, as a good writer, I fhould read you without reflection: and it were doing too much honour to your friends, and too little to my own difcernment, to go to them for a character of your mind, which I was able enough to extract from your writings. But, to imitate your love of truth, with the franknefs you have taught me, I wifh the great qualities of your heart were as ftrong in you as the good ones : you would then have been above that emotion and bitterness, wherewith you remember things which want weight to deserve your anguish. Since you were not the writer of the notes to the Dunciad, it would be impertinent to trouble you with the complaint I intended: I will only obferve, that the author was in the right, to believe me capable of á fecond repentance; but, I hope, I was incapable of that fecond fin, which fhould have been previous to his fuppofition. If the initial letters A. H. were not meant to ftand for my name, yet, they were, everywhere, read fo, as you might have feen in Mift's Journal, and other public papers; and I had fhewn Mr. Pope an example, how reasonable I thought it to clear a mistake, publicly, which had been publicly propagated. One note, among fo many, would have done me this justice: and the generofity of fuch a proceeding could have left no room, for that offenfive fneakingly, which, though, perhaps, too harsh a word, was the properest a man could chufe, who was fatirizing an approbation, that he had never obferved warm |