time avoided and neglected him; and the Earl of Oxford difcharged fome of the fervants for their refolute refufal of his meffages. The maids, when they had neglected their business, alledged that they had been employed by Mr. Pope. One of his conftant demands was of coffee in the night, and to the woman that waited on him in his chamber he was very burthenfome; but he was careful to recompenfe her want of fleep; and Lord Oxford's fervant declared, that in a house where her business was to answer his call, the would not ask for wages.

He had another fault, eafily incident to those who, fuffering much pain, think themselves entitled to whatever pleasures they can fnatch. He was too indulgent to his appetite; he loved meat highly seasoned and of ftrong tafte; and, at the intervals of the table, amufed himself with biscuits and dry conferves. If he fat down to a variety of dishes, he would opprefs his ftomach with repletion, and though he seemed angry when a dram was offered him, did not forbear to drink it. His friends, who knew the avenues to his heart, pampered him with presents of luxury, which he did not fuffer to ftand neglected. The death of great men is not always proportioned to the luftre of their lives. Hannibal, fays Juvenal, did not perifh by a javelin or a fword; the flaughters of Cannæ were revenged by a ring. The death of Pope was imputed by fome of his friends to a filver faucepan, in which it was his delight to heat potted lampreys.

That he loved too well to eat, is certain; but that his fenfuality fhortened his life will not be haftily concluded, when it is remembered that a conformation fo itregular lafted fix and fifty years, notwithstanding such pertinacious diligence of ftudy and meditation.

In all his intercourse with mankind, he had great delight in artifice, and endeavoured to attain all his purposes by indirect and unfufpected methods. He hardly drank tea without a ftratagem. If, at the house of his friends, he wanted any accommodation, he was not willing to afk for it in plain terms, but would mention it remotely as fomething convenient; though, when it was procured, he foon made it appear for whose fake it had been recommended. Thus he teized Lord Orrery till he obtained a fcreen, He practised his arts on fuch small occafions, that Lady Bolingbroke used to fay, in a French phrafe, that be plaid the politician about cabbages and turnips. His unjuftifiable impreffion of the Patriot King, as it can be imputed to no particular motive, must have proceeded from his general habit of fecrecy and cunning; he caught an opportunity of a fly trick, and pleafed himfelf with the thought of outwitting Bolingbroke.

In familiar or convivial converfation, it does not appear that he excelled. He may be faid to have refembled Dryden, as being not one that was diftinguished by vivacity in company. It is remarkable, that, fo near his time, fo much fhould be known of what he has written, and fo little of what he has faid: traditional memory retains no fallies of raillery, nor fentences of obfervation; nothing either pointed or folid, either wife or merry. One apophthegm only stands upon record. When an objection raised against his infcription for Shakespeare was defended by the authority of Patrick, he replied-horrefco referens-that he would allow the publisher of a Dictionary to know the meaning of a fingle word, but not of two words put together.

He was fretful, and easily displeased, and allowed himself to be capriciously refentful. He would fometimes leave Lord Oxford filently, no one could tell why, and was to be courted back by more letters and meffages than the footmen were willing to carry. The table was indeed infefted by Lady Mary Wortley, who was the friend of Lady Oxford, and who, knowing his peevishness, could by no intreaties be reftrained from contradicting him, till their disputes were sharpened to fuch afperity, that one or the other quitted the houfe.

He fometimes condefcended to be jocular with fervants or inferiors; but by no merriment, either of others or his own, was he ever feen excited to laughter.

Of his domeftick character, frugality was a part eminently remarkable. Having determined not to be dependent, he determined not to be in want, and therefore wifely and magnanimously rejected all temptations to expence unfuitable to his fortune. This general care must be univerfally approved; but it sometimes appeared in petty artifices of parfimony, fuch as the practice of writing his compofitions on the back of letters, as may be seen in the remaining copy of the Iliad, by which perhaps in five years five fhilling were faved; or in a niggardly reception of his friends, and fcantinefs of entertainment, as, when he had two guests in his houfe, he would fet at fupper a fingle pint upon the table; and having himself taken two small glaffes would retire and fay, Gentlemen, I leave you to your wine. Yet he tells his friends, that he has a heart for all, a boufe for all, and, whatever they may think, a fortune for all.

He

He fometimes, however, made a fplendid dinner, and is faid to have wanted no part of the skill or elegance which fuch performances require. That this magnificence should be often difplayed, that obftinate prudence with which he conducted his affairs would not permit; for his revenue, certain and cafual, amounted only to about eight hundred pounds a year, of which however he declares himself able to affign one hundred to charity *.

In

Of this fortune, which as it arofe from publick approbation was very honourably obtained, his imagination feems to have been too full: it would be hard to find a man, fo well entitled to notice by his wit, that ever delighted fo much in talking of his money. his Letters, and in his Poems, his garden and his grotto, his quincunx and his vines, or fome hints of his opulence, are always to be found. The great topick of his ridicule is poverty; the crimes with which he reproaches his antagonists are their debts, their habitation in the Mint, and their want of a dinner. He feems to be of an opinion not very uncommon in the world, that to want money is to want every thing.

Next to the pleasure of contemplating his poffeffions, feems to be that of enumerating the men of high rank with whom he was acquainted, and whofe notice he loudly proclaims not to have been obtained by any practices of meannefs or fervility; a boaft which was never denied to be true, and to which very few poets have ever afpired. Pope never fet genius to fale; he

Part of it arose from an annuity of two hundred pounds a year, which he had purchased either of the laft Duke of Buckinghamshire, or the Duchefs his mother, and which was charged on fome estate of that family. The deed by which it was granted was fome years in my custody,

never flattered those whom he did not love,. or praised those whom he did not efteem. Savage however remarked, that he began a little to relax his dignity when he wrote a diftich for bis Highness's dog.

His admiration of the Great seems to have increased in the advance of life. He paffed over peers and statesmen to infcribe his Iliad to Congreve, with a magnanimity of which the praise had been compleat had his friend's virtue been equal to his wit. Why he was chofen for fo great an honour, it is not now poffible to know; there is no trace in literary history of any particular intimacy between them. The name of Congreve appears in the Letters among thofe of his other friends, but without any obfervable diftinction or confequence.

To his latter works, however, he took care to annex names digified with titles, but was not very happy in his choice; for, except Lord Bathurst, none of his noble friends were fuch as that a good man would wish to have his intimacy with them known to posterity he can derive little honour from the notice of Cobham, Burlington, or Bolingbroke.

Of his focial qualities, if an estimate be made from his Letters, an opinion too favourable cannot easily be formed; they exhibit a perpetual and unclouded effulgence of general benevolence, and particular fondnefs. There is nothing but liberality, gratitude, conftancy, and tenderness. It has been fo long faid as to be commonly believed, that the true characters of men may be found in their Letters, and that he who writes to his friend lays his heart open before him. But the truth is, that fuch were fimple friendfhips of the Golden Age, and are now the friendships only of children. Very few can boast of hearts which they

dare