193. TO MRS. STEELE. DEAR PRUE, JAN. 22, 1711-12. GIVE me till ten o'clock to-morrow without dunning for your payments; for Diggle insists upon paying butcher Gibbs, and settling two or three things, before my domestick comes. Yours, RICH. STEELE. SIR, 194. TO MR. POPE. JUNE 1, 1712. I AM at a solitude *, an house between Hampstead and London, wherein Sir Charles Sedley died†. This circumstance set me a-thinking and ruminating upon the employments in which men of wit exercise themselves. It was said of Sir Charles, who breathed his last in this room, "Sedley has that prevailing gentle art, Which can with a resistless charm impart The loosest wishes to the chastest heart; *It is to be feared there were too many pecuniary reasons for this temporary solitude. + About eight or nine years before the date of this letter. Pope said of Steele, that though he led a careless and vicious life, yet he had, nevertheless, a love and reverence of virtue. It is said George I. sent 500 guineas to Steele for the dedication of his Conscious Lovers. Dennis wrote against this comedy, and called Steele a two-penny author, alluding to the price of his Tatler. WARTON. Raise such a conflict, kindle such a fire Till the poor vanquish'd maid dissolves away, This was an happy talent to a man of the town; but, I dare say, without presuming to make uncharitable conjectures on the author's present condition, he would rather have had it said of him that he prayed, "Oh thou my voice inspire, Who touch'd Isaiah's hallow'd lips with fire!" I have turned to every verse and chapter, and think you have preserved the sublime heavenly spirit throughout the whole, especially at—“ Hark a glad voice"-and-" The lamb with wolves shall graze. " There is but one line* which I think below the original : "He wipes the tears for ever from our eyes." You have expressed it with a good and pious, but not so exalted and poetical a spirit as the prophet, "The Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces." If you agree with me in this, alter it by way of paraphrase or otherwise, that, when it comes into a volume, it may be amended. Your poem is already better than the Pollio. I am yours, &c. RICH. STEELE. * In consequence of this objection, this line was altered thus; From every eye he wipes off every tear. I own I cannot forbear thinking that this repetition of the word every is a quaint and pretty modernism, unsuited to the subject. WARTON. 195. FROM SIR, 195. FROM MR. POPE. JUNE 18, 1712. YOU have obliged me with a very kind letter, by which I find you shift the scene of your life from the town to the country, and enjoy that mixed state which wise men both delight in and are qualified for. Methinks the Moralists and Philosophers have generally run too much into extremes, in commending entirely either solitude, or public life. In the former, men for the most part grow useless by too much rest; and in the latter, are destroyed by too much precipitation; as waters, lying still, putrify, and are good for nothing, and running violently on do but the more mischief in their passage to others, and are swallowed up and lost the sooner themselves. Those indeed, who can be useful to all states, should be like gentle streams, that not only glide through lonely vallies and forests amidst the flocks and the shepherds, but visit populous towns in their course, and are at once of ornament and service to them. But there are another sort of people who seem designed for solitude; such, I mean, as have more to hide than to shew. As for my own part, I am one of those of whom Seneca says, "tam umbratiles sunt, ut putent in turbido esse quicquid in luce est." Some men, like some pic * There are too many common-place sentences and reflections in this Letter, and an air of solemn declamation, unsuited to a familiar epistle. The same may be said of the next letter but two. WARTON. tures, tures, are fitter for a corner than a full light; and, I believe, such as have a natural bent to solitude (to carry on the former similitude) are like waters, which may be forced into fountains, and, exalted into a great height, may make'a noble figure, and a louder noise; but, after all, they would run more smoothly, quietly,, and plentifully, in their own natural course upon the ground *. The consideration of this would make me very well contented with the possession only of that quiet which Cowley calls the companion of obscurity. But whoever has the Muses too for his companions, can never be idle enough to be uneasy. Thus, Sir, you see I would flatter myself into a good opinion of my own way of living. Plutarch just now told me, that it is in human life as in a game at tables, where a man may wish for the highest cast, but, if his chance be otherwise, he is e'en to play it as well as he can, and to make the best of it. I am your, &c. A. POPE. * The foregoing similitudes Mr. Pope had put into versé some years before, and inserted into Mr. Wycherley's poem on "Mixed Life." We find them in the versification very distinct from the rest of that poem. See his Posthumous Works, Svo. pp. 3 and 4. 196. TO I 196. TO MRS. STEELE. DEAR PRUE, JUNE 28, 1712. CANNOT come home till the evening. All is safe and well. My disappointment has produced a good, of which you will be glad; to wit, a certainty of keeping my office*, for resigning so great a prospect. I am, dear thing, Yours ever, RICH. STEELE, 197. TO MRS. STEELE. I DEAR PRUE, JULY 15, 1712. kind billet. The nurse THANK you for your shall have money this week. I saw your son Dick ; but he is a peevish chit. You cannot conceive how pleased I am that I shall have the prettiest house to receive the prettiest woman, who is the darling of RICH. STEELe. * He was then a commissioner in the Stamp-office. 198. FROM |