Convinc'd, fhe now contracts her vast Design, The Poetry of these Lines in a Manner speak the Author, there is fine Painting in them; nay, Painting, the Sifter Art to Poetry, was not unknown to him, he took Delight when a Child in Drawing, and afterward having had Masters for that Purpose, made a tolerable good Progress foon; but becoming intimate with Mr. Jervas, (at whofe House he was in Town) he improv'd fo much, that he grew afham'd of his firft Works in this Art, for fome Time of every Day that he was with Mr. Jervas, he employ'd in Painting, it was generally in the Morning; this will be beft exprefs'd in his own Words to Mr. Gay, August 23, 1713. Dear Sir, UST as I received your's, I was fet down to long deferr'd it. But I can hardly repent my Neglect, when it gives me the Knowledge how little you infift upon Ceremony, and how much a greater Share in your Memory I have than I deserve. I have been near a Week in London, where I am like to remain, till I become, by Mr. Jervas's Help, Elegans formarum Spectator. I begin to discover Beauties that were till now imperceptible to me. Every Corner of an Eye, or Turn of a Nose or Ear, the smallest Degree of Light or Shade on a Cheek, or in a Dimple, have Charms to distract me. I no longer look upon Lord Plaufible as ridiculous, for admiring a Lady's fine Tip of an Ear, and pretty Elbow, (as the Plain Dealer has it ;) but I am in fome Danger, even from the Ugly and Disagreeable, fince they may have their retired Beauties in one Part or other about them. You may guess in how uneafy a State I am, when every Day the Performances of others apppear more beautiful and excellent, and my own more defpicable. I have thrown away three Dr. Swift's each of which was once my Vanity; two Lady Bridgewaters, a Dutchefs of Montagu, half a Dozen Earls, and one Knight of the Garter. I have crucified Chrift over-again in Effigy, and made a Modena as old as her Mother St. Anne. Nay, what is yet more miraculous, I have rivall'd St. Luke himself in Painting; and, as it is faid an' Angel came and finished his Piece, so you would swear a Devil put the laft Hand to mine, it is fo begrim'd and fmutted. However, I comfort myself with a Christian Reflection, that I have not broken the Commandment; for my Pictures are not the Likeness of any thing in Heaven above, or in the Earth below, or in the Waters under the Earth. Neither will any Body adore or worship them, except the Indians fhould have a Sight of them, who they tell us worship certain Pagods, or Idols, purely for their Ugliness. 1 am, &c. With this ingenious Artift there remained an uninterrupted Friendship till Death, and while our Author was tranflating Homer, though Mr. Jervas was then in Ireland, he was in his Houfe in London, improving himself in Painting, when at Reft from the laborious Task of changing Greek Phrases into English ones; for, as he himself fays on this very Occafion, " ATranflator is no more a Poet than a Taylor is a Man, Mr. Jervas was entertain'd mean Time in the Houfe of Dr. Swift, and this Opportunity of many Friends being absent, Mr. Pope took to go to Oxford, where finding Dr. Clark, there grew immediately between them a Defire of each others Company. Dr. Clark was a great Scholar, a Man of great Penetration, much Speculation, a Philofopher, and a Lover of free Debate and Enquiry, having a Propenfity to Argument, and never declining (in an amicable cool Manner) to enter into Controverfy, he propos'd to himself vast Pleasure in difcourfing with Mr. Pope concerning the Proofs of his Religion, and why he affented to the unreasonable Injunctions and Traditions of the Romish Church, in Oppofition to the Scriptures, to his own Intereft, and the more valuable Decifion of Reafon; But in this Dr. Clark was altogether mistaken, for once when he hinted, tho' but at Distance, expreffing fuch a Defire, Mr. Pope understood it and told him; faid he, my Reverend Friend, Dr. Clark, it is but a little while I can enjoy your improving Company, here in Oxford, which we will not fo mifpend, as it would be doing, fhould we let it pafs in talking of Divinity, neither would there be Time for either of us half to explain our felves, and at laft you would be Proteftant Clark and I Papist Pope; fo that other Difcourfes, doubtlefs both more pleafant and profitable, fill'd up their Hours of Converfation, which were very frequent, of these last mentioned Paffages Mr. Pope writes to Mr. Jervas at Ireland, November 29, 1716. Dear Sir, you TH have not heard from me of Tacribe not to the ufual Lazinefs of your Correfpondent, but to a Ramble to Oxford, where your Name Name is mentioned with Honour, even in a Land flowing with Tories. I had the good Fortune there to be often in the Conversation of Dr. Clark: He entertain❜d me with several Drawings, and particularly with the original Defign of Inigo Jones's Whitehall. I there faw and reverenc'd fome of your firft Pieces; which future Painters are to look upon as we Poets do on the Culex of Virgil, and Batrachom of Homer. Having named this latter Piece, give me Leave to alk what is become of Dr. Parnelle and his Frogs? Oblitufque meorum, oblivifcendus & illis, might be Horace's Wifh, but will never be mine while I have fuch meorums as Dr. Parnelle and Dr. Swift. I hope the Spring will restore you to us, and with you all the Beauties and Colours of Nature. Not but I congratulate you on the Pleafure you must take in being admir'd in your own Country, which fo feldom happens to Prophets and Poets: But in this you have the Advantage of Poets; you are Mafter of an Art that must profper and grow rich, as long as People love or are proud of themselves, or their own Perfons. However, you have stay'd long enough methinks, to have painted all the numberlefs Hiftories of old Ogygia. If you have begun to be hiftorical, I recommend to your Hand the Story which every pious Irishman ought to begin with, that of St. Patrick; to the End you may be oblig'd (as Dr. Parnelle was, when he tranflated the Batrachommachia) to come into England to copy the Frogs, and fuch other Vermine as were never seen in that Land fince the Time of that Confeffor. I long to fee you a History Painter. You have already done enough for the Private, do fomething for the Publick; and be not confined, like the Reft, to draw only fuch filly Stories as our own Faces tell of us. The Ancients too expect you should do them Right; thofe Statues from which you learn'd your beautiful and noble Ideas, demand it as a Piece of Gratitude from you, to make them truly known to all Nations, in the Account you intend to write of their Characters. I hope you think more warmly than ever of that Defign. As to your Enquiry about your House, when I come within the Walls they put me in mind of those of Carthage, where your Friend, like the wandring Trojan, -animum Pictura pascit inani; For the fpacious Manfion, like a Turkish Caravanserah, entertains the Vagabonds with only bare Lodging. I rule the Family very ill, keep bad Hours, and let out your Pictures about the Town. See what it is to have a Poet in your House! Frank indeed does all he can in fuch a Circumftance; for confidering he has a wild Beast in it, he conftantly keeps the Door chain'd: Every Time it is open'd, the Links rattle, the rufty Hinges roar. The House seems so fenfible that you are its Support, that it is ready to drop in your Abfence; but Iftill truft myfelf under its Roof, as depending that Providence will preserve so many Raphaels, Titians, and Guidos as are lodg'd in your Cabinet. Surely the Sins of one Poet can hardly be fo heavy, as to bring an old House over the Heads of fo many Painters. In a Word your House is falling, but what of that? I am only a Lodger, and Dear Sir, &c. To this Friend Mr. Pope fent an Epiftle in Verfe, with Mr. Dryden's Tranflation of Frefney's Art of Painting, This Epiftle is wrote in a Stile truly friendly, |