it gives colour and brightness to the meanest objects purely by looking on them. I agree with you, that there is a pleasure in seeing the nature and temper of men in the plainest undress; but few men are of consequence enough to deserve, or reward, that curiosity. I shall indeed (and so will all mankind) be highly pleased to see the great Czar of Muscovy in this light, drawn by himself, like an ancient master, in rough strokes, without heightening or shadowing; what a satisfaction to behold that perfect likeness, without art, affectation, or even the gloss of colouring, with a noble neglect of all that finishing and smoothing, which any other hand would have been obliged to bestow on so principal a figure ? I write this to a man whose judgment I am certain of, and therefore am as certain you will give the world this great depositum, just as you have received it : there will be no danger of your dressing this Mars too finely, whose armour is not gold, but adamant, and whose style in all probability is much more strong than it is polished. I congratulate you, that this great treasure is fallen into your hands; and I congratulate all Europe, that it is to be delivered to them through the hands of one, who will think it sacrilege to touch upon, much less to alter, any great lines of such an original.

I can make you no better return for your great compliment upon me (which it would be arrogance in me to shew to any other, and dangerous even to remember myself) but by telling you, that it is honour enough to reward all my studies, to find my character and reputation is part of the care of that

person to whom the fame and glory of Peter Alexiowitz was committed.

SIR,

I am forced to make use of another hand than my own in this letter, having received a wound cross all the veins of my right hand, by which the tendons of two fingers are separated; however, it was a fine paid for my life, which has been very narrowly saved, and which may now continue me some years longer. Dear Sir,

Your, etc.

SIR,

LETTER II.

TO THE SAME.

January 5, 1730-1. I WAS unwilling to answer your too obliging letter (which puts much too great a stress upon my opinion) till I had read your play with the attention it deserves I mean, not once, but several times over. In a word, to comply with my judgment will cost you no trouble, except to your modesty; which is, to act it as soon as possible. Nothing but trifles have

I to object, and which were such as did not once stop me at the first reading; the spirit, design, and characters, carrying me on, without stop, check, or even intermission. You certainly are master of the art of the Stage, in the manner of forming and conducting the design, which I think impossible to be

mended; of that great part, and of the other, the raising the passions, I will say nothing to you, who know them so much better than myself. I would only point out a few particularities in thought or expression, as material as excepting to a button on your coat, or a loose hair. Two or three lines I have with great timorousness written on one of your blank leaves, in black lead, half afraid to be legible, and not without some hope that before you see them, they may be vanished: so may perhaps my objections, every one of them. Shall I see you soon to tell you these nothings? Whenever I shall see you I hope to find we can employ the time better, than I in telling, or you, in hearing them. Or must I return you the play now? Your orders will be obeyed as soon as you give them. I really rejoice at your Lady's recovery; I would have her and you think, the air of Richmond is particularly good to re-establish her. Pray let Miss Hill know, I am ready to believe all the good things her own father can see in her I can safely trust both his judgments and his affections. I am, truly, Sir,

DEAR SIR,

LETTER III.

TO THE SAME.

Your, etc.

February 5, 1730-1.

I MADE a strong essay to have told you in person how very kindly I took your two last letters. The only

hours I had in my power from a necessary care that brought me back immediately, I would have imposed on you. It will please you to know the poor woman is rather better, though it may be but like the improvement of a light on the end of a dying taper, which brightens a little before it expires. Your hint about my title Of False Taste, you'll see, is made use of in the second edition. Your opinion also of my giving some public dissent or protest against the silly malicious misconstruction of the town, I agree to; but I think no one step should be taken in it, but in concert with the Duke whom they injure. It will be a pleasure felt by you, to tell you, his Grace has written to me the strongest assurance imaginable of the rectitude of his opinion, and of his resentment of that report, which to him is an impertinence, to me a villany.

I am afraid of tiring you, and (what is your best security) I have not time to do it. I'll only just tell you, that many circumstances you have heard, as resemblances to the picture of Timon, are utterly inventions of liars; the number of servants never was an hundred, the paintings not of Venio or La Guerre, but Bellucci and Zaman; no such buffet, manner of reception at the study, terras, etc. all which, and many more, they have not scrupled to forge, to gain some credit to the application: and (which is worse) belied testimonies of noblemen, and of my particular friends, to condemn me. In a word, the malice is as great as the dulness of my calumniators: the one I forgive, the other I pity, and I despise both.

U 2

Adieu; the first day I am near you I will find you out, and shew you something you will like. My best good wishes are yours, and Miss Urania's.

Your, etc.

SIR,

LETTER IV.

TO THE SAME.

Parson's Green, February 5, 1730-1. SINCE I am fully satisfied we are each of us sincerely and affectionately servants to the other, I desire we may be no farther misled by the warmth of writing on this subject. If you think I have shewn too much weakness, or if I think you have shewn too much warmth, let us forgive one another's temper. I told you I thought my letter a silly one; but the more I thought so, the more in sending it I shewed my trust in your good disposition toward me. I am sorry you took it to have an air of neglect, or superiority: because I know in my heart, I had not the least thought of being any way superior to Mr. Hill; and far from the least design to shew neglect to a gentleman who was shewing me civility, I meant in return to shew him a better thing, sincerity; which I am sorry should be so ill expressed as to seem rudeness. I meant but to complain as frankly as you, that all complaints on both sides might be out, and at a period for ever: I meant by this to have laid a surer foundation for your opinion of me for the future,