The epistles of Phalaris translated into English from the original Greek by S. Whately ... ; to which is added Sir W. Temple's Character of the epistles of Phalaris ; together with an appendix of some other epistles lately discovered in a French ms.

THE APPENDIX.

To the Reader.

HAving once resolved to Translate the Epistles of Phalaris into English, and made some entrance into the Work; it came into my Head to enquire whether it were not done into French. I found, methoughts the Phalaridan both Thought and Stile very much to symbolize with that of the Louvre, especially in the more Majestick, and truly Tyrannick Stroaks. The same Absoluteness of Power, the same Vncontrolledness of Dominion, the same Dispensings of either Good or Evil according to the Arbitrement of Soveraign Will, the same Triumphs o∣ver Opposition, the same Insultings over E∣nemies, the same Menacings of the Disobe∣dient, so frequently Display'd in the Epistles of the Sicilian Tyrant, most exactly resem∣bling

those magnificent Addresses with which the Lofty Genius's of France strive to out-do each other, in Caressing their Grand Monarch: and the same Colours of Humanity not spa∣ringly used to Palliate the utmost Severities: the same Elaborateness of Composition, the same Stateliness of Thought, the same Ope∣roseness of Stile in the one as in the other. So that could I have met with a French Pha∣laris, I were in great hopes to have found not only the Sense of my Author facilitated to me, but also his Oratory Improved to the most elevated Strain of Magniloquence. And then my English Reader might have seen a true Phalaris: which now for want of that Help appears in a plain and homely Dress, and disrob'd of his chiefest Excellency; a Stiffness, and Stateliness, and Operoseness of Stile; having nothing but the naked Thought (nor perhaps always that) Simply express'd, to recommend it. I searcht all the Foreign Shops, but no French Phalaris could I find. But tho I miss'd of my Principal Aim, yet I did not wholly lose my Labour. Rummaging among a parcel of old Books under a Counter, I met with a Collection of French Epistles. 'Twas imperfect, two of the first sheets being wanting: so that I am not able to give any Conjecture either of the Author or the Date. At the end of it I found some sheets in Ma∣nuscript,

which indeed pleased me as well, or rather better than those in Print. Blessing my self with so opportune a Discovery, I resolv'd to turn some of them into English, and Attail them as an Appendix to my Pha∣laris. The Author of them is manifestly of a more Recent Date, than either the So∣phist or the Tyrant. But methinks there is something of the same Spirit in Both. And that he is not very Modern, besides, that the writing doth not appear fresh, I conclude from hence: because there is, methinks, more of Thought and Design, and less of Word and Phrase in him, than in most of the Mo∣dern French Compositions I have met with. As for his Character and Quality, it may be guest at by his Writings: And as for the Choice of the Epistles, I followed my own Gust. There being somewhat in even the most Familiar of them, which to me was Affecting. Most of those I have given, are such as may with a little change be applied to very Com∣mon occasions: And many of them so adapted to the present posture of Affairs, that one would think the Author was somewhat Related to the Family of Nostradamus. But there is nothing new under the Sun.

To Monsieur Tomassin.

I Congratulate your safe arrival to your Country-house, and should en∣vy you the Happiness of your Retire∣ment, but that I expect to see the world blest with the fruits of it. 'Tis really so, Sir; you may more Improve by keeping company with yourself, than by the best Clubs in the Town. Happy the man that's best when Alone! That's your Case; and now you are gone, Mine: For your Departure hath made the City as to me a Solitude. Bless me with your Com∣mands; for then only shall I think my self well employed ont of my Closet when I am upon your service.

P. S. Your old friend is in good health: Loud and Lusty; and as Busie as ever. He got up yesterday at four a Clock in the morning, and rais'd all the family, to hunt a Flea, and did it with as much noise as ever poor Puss was run down. I wish I could picture a Noise: 'twould cure you of your Melancholy.

To Mr Tournavant.

I Am not surprized to hear of your Successes, and how you are Caressed by the Ladies. 'Tis by the meer Sympa∣thy of Nature, which renders it Impossi∣ble for the Fair Sex not to have a Singu∣lar value for a person so Qualified as your self: so Adapted to their Capacities, so Commensurate to their Attainments, so Attempered to their Properties; that in You they Admire Themselves. I cannot but envy both your Fortune and your Nature. But alas! I for ever despair of the like. For as my Fortune hath denied me the Felicities which attend you: So had I them, the Cross-grain'd Make of my Nature would not suffer me to enjoy them. I know not how it comes to pass, but so it is, The Women and I scarce ever admire the same things. I should think my self a Fool, if they thought me other∣wise: and so I do however: but not so Great an one now as I should do then▪ This is my Misfortune, and I were Born to it. But as for yourself, I cannot but Congratulate You, as a Man most Happy in your Satisfactions.

To Mr le* 1.1 Nodaine.

THe Gracious* 1.2 Nod you were plea∣sed to bestow upon me t'other day as I crost you in the Street, especially be∣ing in such company as you were, I inter∣pret as so singular a favour, that I could not think my self out of your Debt till I had return'd you my thanks for it.

To Mr le Parlepant.

I Received your note. I shall not be at home this Afternoon; not that I have any other Business than not to be at home.

To Mr de la Fume.

PRint it? ay, by all means. I know Whom it comes from, and I know what it is. But I han't time to Read it.

To Mr Seurant.

I Much admire the Success of your un∣dertaking: but I much more admire

that you should admire yourself for your Performance in it. But I see there's truth in the old Observation, That Books, as well as Men, have their Lucky Stars.

To Mr Beaugoust.

I Received your Letter, and am glad to hear of your Safety. I have lookt over the Catalogue, and sent you a note of what Books I desire. But as for that Quarto, n. 17. which you so mightily ex∣tol, I have heard nothing of it from any body else. You need not buy it.

To Mr Fourdain.

THe Experience I have had of your Goodness emboldens me to Impor∣tune a fresh Favour at your hands. I would excuse the Trouble I give you, but that I am sure you no more expect Excuses for Requests, than you do Thanks for Per∣formances: which hath often put me to some Difficulties, as knowing how much 'tis my Duty to make my Acknowledgments, and how Unwillingly you receive them. Interpret therefore for the future my Backwardness in this kind to be a Com∣plying with your Modesty, and that the

Reason why I do not so often thank you as you deserve, is because I know you. Permit me only to say thus much of you: That I am not more Deeply obliged to you than I am Willingly so; and that I do not more Depend upon you than I Love you. Since in you I find that Rare man, scarce to be met with elsewhere, that Dispences a Favour with as Unassu∣ming an Air as he would Receive one, and to whom a man may be a Debtor, without being a Slave. I desire you first to read the Inclosed, then seal it up, and take your time to deliver it. I Desire no more of you, because I know I need not. I depend upon you for my Friend: not so much because I have upon all occasions hitherto found you so, as because you never twice told me that you were so. I am, &c.

To Mr Tauremont.

REad the Inclosed. I confide in you Make me not a Misanthropos.

To Mr le Braire.

WHat you please. The less you give, the more I gain: the more you

give, the less I gain. I'll meet you at the place and hour appointed; but ask no Questions; for I'll Answer none.

To Mr le Failant.

I Am very glad you mist of your Ap∣pointment t'other day; though I waited there at least six hours in expecta∣tion of you, and your failure laid me under some present difficulties. But I am now otherwise supplyed. Had you been more punctual and venturous, I had been a considerable loser by you. For a certain Windfall hath now put into my hands a Lease, of which, had I received from you the assistance I then wanted, you must have had the Refusal. But now I am my own man, and shall make my penny worth of it.

To Mr Minon.

YOu have made me most monstrous proud of myself. You told me that your Friend to whom you committed the Correction of my Papers, was a most Ju∣dicius person. I have seen his Correcti∣ons, and find myself a better man than I thought I were. I were at considerable

pains to make an Indifferent thing Passa∣bly good; what was passably well done, he comes after me, and makes stark naught. Well! I'll learn to Trust more to my self for the future. And that's a Lesson for which I am beholding to you.

To Mr L' Honoree.

NO, I can't. I want Time more than Business. As I am your Tenant, not your Servant; I will pay you my Rent in Money, not in Service: And the first I receive you shall receive. My ser∣vice humbly presented to that excellent woman, your Consort.

To Mr L' Intendant de Havre de Grace.

IF it was the Disappointment of Your Expectation caused the Disappoint∣ment of Mine; I am satisfied: if a Change in your Inclinations; I am Ruin'd. For if I am lost to you, I am lost to all the world.

To Mr le Gaulmien.

FOrget you! No, not so long as I walk in open Air, So many Remem∣brancers

do I meet of you where-ever I go. I never behold that stately Animal, the Dunghil-Cock (his gay Attire, his Brisk Looks, his Lively Air; the Tuff on his Head, the Strut of his Gate, and his Tail Erect) proffering his Courtly Ser∣vice to his Fair Lady, and with the Praunce of his Paw, the Jirk of his Wing, and the Toss of his Crown, making his Pass by her Side; and presently after Re∣peating the same Salutation to her Com∣panion: I never see this Sight; but, Sir, I think of you.

To Madame de Prouletout.

I Thank you heartily for the friendly Service you offer me. The truth on't is, I begin to be weary of being my own Caterer. And besides, methinks I am (as to some things) somewhat too Igno∣rant for a man of my years. But who must speak first? for in troth I know not what to say. Take a plate of Fruit in your hand, open the door, come in, and speak for us both.

To Mr Monfredien.

GO on, let me beseech you, and be not asham'd of the Littleness of the

thing. Then might we expect to see the Philosophy of Language, when men of Sense and Penetration would not be ashamed to write Grammars. Or if that be, (as it is) a work too Little for you, go on with t'other Business, which if you Finish, you will Dye with the Sa∣tisfaction of not Having lived in vain.

To Mr L' Hautisin.

I Have read over the Composition which you design to Pronounce in the Oratory. I need not tell you I like it, for you know I like every thing that comes from your hands. But what's my Liking to the purpose? You are a man strangely perverse, and so wedded to your own ways! Why I tell you again, as I told you before; if you will not take in Longer words, and put more Breath into your Periods, (ay, and Dress better too) you may live and dye a Beggar.

To Mr Fievregois.

PUblish it! I had rather you should cut off your Right hand. I know 'tis Witty. But Exert the Powers of thy

Soul. Mortifie thy Vanity, and Spare thy Friend.

To Mr Fourbien.

PRethee, my Dear friend, off with thy Disguise, and shew thyself what thou art. 'Tis a most Damnable pain for a Knave to walk in an Honest man's Shoes. And thou needest not be asha∣med. Thou'lt have more Fellows, nay, and greater Friends too, this way than t' other. But if you won't put it off, I'll pull it off for you: That is, if you fall in my Walks.

To Mr de la Bouche.

THou Bull of the Common! Thou Bagpipe of Wisdom! Thou Tongue and Lungs! To have my Modesty thus Insulted by thy Impudence! I need not tell you what I mean, nor when and where 'twas done. Thinkest thou there∣fore that I also admire thy Imperious Bel∣low, and borrowed Eloquence? The Scrape of thy Paw, the Toss of thy Horn, and the Flirt of thy Tail? Interpret not, Vain man, my Scorn for Reverence, or Silence for Approbation. I'd no more

Answer thee than I would a Parrot, and I Regard thee less. Nay, didst thou ever see me so much as Laugh at thee? No; thou art as much beneath a Laugh with me, as is a Merry Andrew. But this know, that I Know thee, and therefore when∣ever I meet thee in the street (and no where else by my Good will will I meet thee) Remember that while I Cap thee I Despise thee.

To Mr de Beaugoust.

BOth your Friend and your Letter were heartily welcome to me. I find him to be (that is as far as I can judge) what you say of him, a Learned person. But let me tell you, as there is no man in the world more admires Learning than myself, so there is none in the world less admires a Learned man. Take not this as a Reflection upon your Friend. I can as yet have but little knowledge of him. But I believe he is a man of Sense: for he shews not too much of himself at first, and seems to be one of those Men that one shall like better at the Year's end than at the Week's.

To Monsieur de Charteville.

I Have read your long and Elaborate Epistle, by which one would imagin we were all Lost, and the whole Pro∣vince upon its last Legs. I am pretty confident you need not put yourself to such Frights. But when Scholars will set up for Merchant Adventurers, there's danger in every Wind. 'Tis the little Experience you have of the World makes you Bookish men so Mistrustful and Pre∣scribing. Prove either of these two things to me, and I'll be your Convert: either that ever any one followed your Advice without Repenting of it, or that ever you offer'd a Conjecture which was not con∣futed by the Event. You may as well Travel to Persia by the Map, as direct the Management of Affairs by your Aphorism. Books. Rules were first made from Ex∣amples: and a great Genius Begins an Example and Begets a Rule. There's as much difference between Reading and Action, as there is between an Army in the Field and one on the Chimney-piece: And Painters are as fit to make Generals, as Clerks Politicians I know you are an Honest man, and Mean well. But your

Intellect is as yet too Streightned to take in Light enough to be able to pass a true Judgment upon Affairs of this Nature. 'Tis that makes you so forward and un∣reserv'd in your Censures. The Powers of Circumstance, the Qualifications of Fact, the true and genuine Characterism of Virtue, the slender Line that Divides the Honest and Dishonest, are too Spiritual things to be discerned by Material Or∣gans, or Pictured by the Pen. But you Closet Politicians never think a man safe unless he stand upon the Center, not con∣sidering that Virtue and Honour have their Circumference: nor can a man ever become truly Great, and fit for the Busi∣ness of the world, that knows not how to venture to the very Edge, and touch the Inside of the Line, yet without step∣ping over it. But these are things requi∣ring a more Extended thought than you are yet Capable of. 'Tis a hard matter to convince a Speculatist that any body is Wiser than Himself, his Author, and his Club. Since therefore you are not in condition to admit of any other Teacher, Learn from yourself, and let the so of∣ten repeated Failure of your Predictions teach you to be for the Future more Sus∣pending, and less Directorious. Mr. L'In∣tendant

Knows both your interests and his own too well, either to receive your Directions, or to neglect his Duty; which is to Procure your welfare You are Safe, if you can but think your selves so: or whether you think your selves so or not; yet still you are Safe. but 'tis by His pursuing Methods contrary to your Pre∣scriptions that we are so. I shall add no more at present, since all that I could tell you, you may (as I said before) learn from your own Mistakes: and if They will not Teach you, nothing will. But as for Presenting your Scheme, you must excuse me. Fare you well.

To Mr Gardesieux.

I Admit your Reproof, and confess I might better have been more Reserv∣ed. But I am not a man of Cunning. Yet let me tell you, I can keep a Secret; that is, if it be a Secret worth the keep∣ing: and give me no other: For though I'll be faithful to you in your Cash, I'll not be made the Keeper of your old Iron. Were you as able to Distinguish between what doth really Reflect upon a man, and what not; as I am to distinguish between Secret and Secret; this Quarrel were at

an end. You are a man of Business, and let me give you an Aphorism. None in the world so fit to be in a Plot as a Tal∣kative man: he draws out the Secrets of others without being suspected himself. But for the future let me know no more of your Concerns than what you are wil∣ling all the world should know. Forgive me, and Fare you well.

To Mr Doubtray.

I Crave your pardon for that Freedom of Speech I used with you at our last meeting, with which you seemed to part somewhat Dissatisfy'd. I were perhaps a little too Eager. But really, Sir, we both talkt in the Dark, and shot at Ro∣vers. Only thus much I can say for my self, that for this eight or ten years past no man hath been more lucky in his Wa∣gers. Had they been for Crown pieces instead of pints of Wine, I had been a Rich man. But I am resolved never more to trouble my head about Politicks, since I find we have to do with a man who proveth his Wisdom by the E∣vents.

To Mr Charlebon.

I Am mightily taken with the Copy of Verses you sent me. They are Neat and Proper, and one would think above the reach of a School Boy. I'll requite you in your own kind with a piece of Poetry out of our Free School. 'Tis a single di∣stich upon the Sieur Guilluame, spoken by a little Boy at their Breaking up. And indeed Sir William is the best House∣keeper the Parish hath had for this hun∣dred Years.

O Gulielme, parem cui Saecula nulla tule∣runt, Saecula cui nullum sunt habitura parem.

'Tis pretty Latin for a Child. Remem∣ber me to little Cob, the Hopefulst thing I ever beheld of his Inches.

* 1.3

To S. Accommodati della villa No∣va.

I Pity your Case, and wish it were otherwise. I know your Neighbour is a Cross-grain'd Fellow, but he is Plausible, and will find Friends, and hath Neighbours as bad as himself, who will not fail to take his Part. Since therefore you can neither Remove nor Reform him; secure yourself and Compound with him. Invite him to Dinner, and make him your Friend. This is Good advice, and make a Rule on't.

To Mr Fleurpoint.

YOu may justly Resent my Rudeness to a person of your Quality, in re∣fusing to admit the Honour you design∣ed me of a visit. But it would have been a Greater Incivility to have accepted of a Civility from a person whom I am un∣der a Necessity of Disobliging. For I must do Justice to your Adversary before either I can be Your Friend, or You Mine. That done, none should be more ready to Serve you than Myself▪

To Mr Vervecoix.

GO on and spare me not. I only pity thy Disquietudes. For the Outra∣geous violence you use upon my name in some Companies, and the timerous Reserve with which you treat it in others, are the manifest Symptoms of a Soul di∣stracted between Fear and Revenge. But set your heart at ease. I could vindicate without Recriminating; or so Recrimi∣nate as to render a vindication unnecessa∣ry But I'll do neither. I envy not your Success. I should be perfectly ashamed to have it said that you and I have the same Friends. If your Accusations will not ac∣quit me, I'll stand condemned. Forgive me not, for you cannot Injure me: or if you could Injure me, you could not for∣give me. Fare you as well as a Cowardly Envious Soul can do.

To Mr de la Prude.

WAre of him! Yes, I am ware of him. He's a Cunning Creature! Yes he is a Cunning Creature, as Cunning, I mean, as a man of neither Sense nor Conscience can be: But he will as cer∣tainly

be Betray'd by himself (for ••tis in him, and Nature will be 〈◊〉〈◊〉) as Fire by the Smoak. And 〈…〉〈…〉 need no other Recommendation 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his Accusations.

To Monsieur de Pied.

PRay do me the kindness to lend me the Book you so mightily extolled t'other day at Mr de Piemonts. For I suppose you have Read it yourself.

To Mr L' Amphay.

I Have sent you my Book reeking hot from the Press; which had I never known You I had never written.

To Mr Urbain.

THou Feeble creature! Dost thou know what thou dost? Wouldest thou have dared to look me in the Face, had it not been for the Courage which thou tookest up at the Shops? That ever Tay∣lor and Sempstress should so Abuse a Man! Or have the Fumes of my Lords Table perfectly poisoned thy Intellect? Hast thou quite forgot both what I am, and

what Thou art? The very self same on both sides as before the Taylor made the Difference. I have read your Letter, but am otherwise Employed than to An∣swer it. In short, let me hear no more of you. I am what I have always been, and what that is you know.

To Mr Monfredien.

YOu can have no more of a Cat than her Skin. I give you my Papers, and that's all I have in the world to give. There is nothing but an Ill Conscience that I would more gladly be rid of than my Debts. But how can I help it? You know all I had was lost at Sea. I shall to my last Breath acknowledge the Generosity of those my Friends, who so frankly contributed toward the repairing of my Fortunes. But all they did fell short of the Damnum So∣lidum, which was the least part of my Suffering. That unlucky Adventure hath broken all my Measures, and at one Blow destroy'd the Hopes and Designs of my whole Life. But I submit to the Disposals of him who sees all things from the Be∣ginning to the End, all whose Methods are well Designed, and who by our Mis∣fortunes

Cures of our Vanities. I can∣not think of Travelling again: not but that I might live in any part of the World as well as where I am. For all my Cor∣respondencies are Lost: not only by that Natural Shyness which all wise Dealers have to a Broken man, but by my own Sheepishness, who (I know not why) can∣not but be ashamed of my Misfortunes as my Faults. I am very much oblig'd to my Creditors for their Charitable For∣bearances. But now I despair not, God granting me some few years life, (and for no other end do I desire life) of being able to Answer all their Demands And among the rest, yours: Which nothing but the Assurance I have of your Compas∣sions renders tolerably Easie to me. All I can do now is to offer you my Papers. Use your Discretion.

To Mr Fonteigne.

I Do indeed deserve your Pity, and I thank you for it. That I had the Summum jus, if not a little beyond it, you need not be told, who know so well both how and by whom the whole Affair was managed. Yet I blame not my Judges: for 'twas a Crime; that is, a Trespass upon

the Letter of the Law: But a Crime, Ill venture to say it, so Innocently committed, so free from any thing of Natural Tur∣pitude, or evil Tendency, ventured upon with so Charitable an Intention, and ter∣minating in so Good a Work; that under the same Circumstances I could scarce for∣bear repeating the same offence, tho sure of the same punishment. You know the whole Case so very well, are so wellKnown your self, and so much both my friend and a hater of Oppression, that I need not desire you should you at any time hear the matter misrepresented, to do me Ju∣stice.

To Mr de L' Isle.

'TIs true, they Charge me home. But I must crave your pardon for Re∣plying to the whole Indictment. That would take up at least half a Quire of Paper. All that I shall answer to it is this. First, 'Twas in a life now pretty far run the first and last Transgression of the kind. Secondly, I must have done as I did or have done worse. Thirdly, 'Twas not Malum in se, and therefore Fourthly, 'Twas no fault: For Fifthly, 'Twas a Du∣ty. But I have resolved not to say a syl∣lable

more of this matter; and therefore force me not to break a Resolution which 'tis for your Friends Interest that I should keep. Only thus much let me tell you as a Secret, I am less in Humour what they call me, than I am in Principles.

To Mr le Nodaine.

I Value not what other men say or think of me. They know me not, and do me no wrong: Nor is there a man upon earth more content to be De∣spised than myself. But as for you, my School-fellow, and my Play-fellow, my old Companion, and once Friend, I had almost said Admirer, at least that knew me; Not to know me! Or was it because (being just come off a Journey) I had my old Hat on, and worst Cloaths, and the Walks were full? Well! But suppose I could so De∣generate (and yet what should make you think so but a Down-cast look and Unre∣garded Beard?) as to have the same O∣pinion of my self as the rest of the world (Judging by the same measures by which you Act) have of me: Yet I could never forgive your Consenting either to them or to me. Mistake me not. I am not proud of your Opinion concerning me,

by which I Judge not Myself but You. For to You I ought to be the same you think me to be; which is much better than what I am. But as for your self, what you are I know, and what you were I remember. That is much the same now (as to the main part) as when my Schoolfellow. And so Fare you well.

* 1.4

Hold your Peace you Fool, no body knows on't but You and I.

* 1.5

My Nephews Verses upon this Theme.

Non bene conveniunt nec in unâ sede Morantur Majestas & Amor.

Jupiter ut tacitas inhonesto pectore flammas Sentiit, & vires, parve Cupido, tuas: Aegide deposita Sumpsit sibi cornua Tauri, Nec nisi Mugitus Bos{que} Deus{que} Tonat. Quantum Numen, Amor, tibi, quanta Poten∣tia soli, Qui tua ferre Jovem cogis a eratra Boem.

* 1.6

Mr F—to Monseigneur de l' Isle de Parnasse.

THe Knowledge I have of your Lord∣ships Character hath Embolden'd my Pen to the following Address. 'Tis well known what an Admirer your Lordship is of the Productions of the Brain, as be∣ing a great Dealer in the like Com∣modity yourself. Indeed, my Lord, we might reckon you as one of us, were it not for your Wealthy Condition. 'Tis not impossible but that your Lordship's self may upon some occasion or other have experimentally found at how low an ebb Invention runs when Nature is exhausted with the Cares of Life (for Grandeur also hath its Cares) the Imagi∣nation drooping by too long an Absti∣nence from those Spirituous Liquids which should Support it, and the Courage of Thought broken by want of that Cordial in the Fob, upon which it so much de∣pends. The Trade of Wit (how Aiery soever it may seem) can no more than any other Merchandize whatsoever, be carried on without something of a Stock, either in Cash or Credit, of both which

our Society is equally Unprovided. To say nothing of Books, of Habits, of Con∣versation, of Domestick Accommodati∣ons, of Intervallating Refreshments, of the Indulgence of some Vanities which are proper to our Character, and to which we are Prompted by the Peculi∣arity of Inclination; all which laid toge∣ther require a Competent Supply: But abating all this; the Care for to Morrow, my Lord, the Care for to Morrow; that's a pressing occasion, and strangely Abates that Heat, without which there's nothing to be done in our way. Nature startles at the thought: but I am horribly afraid on't: yes, my Lord, I am afraid 'twill come to that at last; That I shall be changed from a Poet into a Philoso∣pher. Deus averiat!

* 1.7

Received from Mr P—

YOu know we Poets have a Spice of Vanity. 'Tis Intrinsick to our Na∣tures, and that which makes us Poets. And therefore I hope a Common Infirmi∣ty will be pardon'd in a Friend. Presu∣ming upon that, I have sent you my last Composition. It Takes I assure you;

whether it Deserves, I am not so fit to Judge. Yet I think the Epithets are Chosen, the Cadence Smooth, the Rhimes Full, and the Close of the Thought Easie and Natural. And that is indeed the peculiar Delicacy of our Country Wit, to be Soft and Easie. For which all Foreigners that have a true Gust do so justly admire the French Nation. I think my Genius Corresponds to the Place of my Birth, and Breathes pure Parisian. I cannot deliver a Copy of verses out of my hands (and I could write a Ream a week) but Presently all the Dressing-Rooms about the Court Eccho of 'em. Not that I value my self upon the Ap∣plauses of the Ladies: though I must needs say they are better Judges of Poetry than we commonly imagin them to be. But I shall be more proud of my self, if I find Their Judgment confirmed by Yours: in expectation of which I remain—

* 1.8

As ••amon sate by Chloris side, And lov'd and hugg'd the longing Bride; Lysander, envying heir Fate, At a convenient dist••nce sate. He sobb'd and sigh'd, his swelling eyes Streamd scalding Tears, and thus he cries Oh, Happy He, and Happy She! And Twice and Thrice Vnhappy me!

* 1.9

Notes

• * 1.1

  This is no Jest in the Original.
• * 1.2

  This is no Jest in the Original.
• * 1.3

  I have ventured to turn these two Lines into English, though I confess they do not run off so smoothly in English as they do in Latin.

  William, whose like past Ages ne're have known, Whose like will ne're in Future times be shewn.
• * 1.4

  There were in the same Papers several other Epistles,but some of them too long, some of them too particular, some of them too Serious to be acceptable to the publick, and therefore I past them by. Just at the end of the E∣pistles I found standing in a Line by itself These words.
• * 1.5

  In the same MS. I found standing in a page by them∣selves these Latin Verses, which methoughts were pretty things in their kind. They were over-written thus.
• * 1.6

  After two or three blank pages I found this Epistle o∣ver-written thus.
• * 1.7

  In the last leaf of the Book I found this Epistle stand∣ing by itself, Inscribed only thus, Receivid from Mr P—
• * 1.8

  On the inside Blank of the Parchment Covering, I found the following verses in French, which presuming to be those referred to in the Epistle, I have, as well as I could, turned into English. Without doubt something of the Beauty, Fineness, and Harmony of the Original must be lost in the Translation, but nothing (I hope) of the Spirit and Vigor of them
• * 1.9

  Just under the Verses at the bottom corner of the page, I found written in Latin these two words: Risum teneatis!