man's alive; and, whatever you are pleas'd to doe, will alway acknowledge my self, "S",

Yo' most obliged humble Serv,

J. TONSON.

LETTER VIII.

TO MR. JACOB TONSON.

MR. TONSON,

August 30. [1693.]

I AM much asham'd of my self, that I am so much behind-hand with you in kindness. Above all things I am sensible of your good nature, in bearing me company to this place, wherein, besides the cost, you must needs neglect your own business; but I will endeavour to make you some amends; and therefore I desire you to command me something for your service. I am sure you thought my Lord Radclyffe wou'd have done something: I ghess'd more truly, that he cou'd not; but I was too far ingag'd to desist; though I was tempted to it, by the melancholique prospect I had of it. I have

5 The author was at this time in Northamptonshire. The particular place from which he writes, is not easily ascertained. It is not Oundle, nor Tichmarsh; nor was he at Canons-Ashby; for he was not on good terms with his kinsman, Sir Robert Driden.

The original has no date but August 30th; but the year is ascertained by the reference to the THIRD MISCELLANY, which was published in July, 1693.

6 To whom the THIRD MISCELLANY is dedicated.Some account of him may be found in vol. iii. p. 269.

translated six hundred lines of Ovid; but I believe I shall not compasse his 772 lines under nine hundred or more of mine. This time I cannot

write to my wife, because he who is to carry my letter to Oundle, will not stay till I can write another. Pray, Sir, let her know that I am well; and for feare the few damsins shoud be all gone, desire her to buy me a sieve-full, to preserve whole, and not in mash.

I intend to come up at least a week before Michaelmass; for Sir Matthew is gone abroad, I suspect a wooeing, and his caleche is gone with him so that I have been but thrice at Tichmarsh, of which you were with me once. This dissappointment makes the place wearysome to me, which otherwise wou'd be pleasant.

8

About a fortnight ago I had an intimation from a friend by letter, that one of the Secretaryes, I suppose Trenchard, had inform'd the Queen, that I had abus'd her Government, (those were the words) in my Epistle to my Lord Radcliffe; and that thereupon, she had commanded her Historiographer, Rymer, to fall upon my playes; which he assures me is now doeing. I doubt not his malice, from a former hint you gave me ; and if he be employ'd, I am confident 'tis of his own seeking; who, you know, has spoken slightly of me in his last.

7 I have not been able to discover who was the person here meant. Our author writes perhaps from his house.

8 Sir John Trenchard, who was made one of the Secretaries of State, March 23, 1691-2, and held that office till his death, in April, 1695.

I

critique: and that gave me occasion to snarl againe. In your next, let me know what you can learn of this matter. I am Mr. Congreve's true lover, and desire you to tell him, how kindly I take his often remembrances of me: I wish him all prosperity, and hope I shall never loose his affection; nor yours, Sir, as being

Your most faithfull,

I had all your

And much obliged Servant,

Letters.

JOHN DRYDEN.

Sir Matthew had your book, when he came home last; and desir'd me to give you his acknowledgments.

LETTER IX.

TO MR. JOHN DENNIS.

[Probably, March, 1693-4.]

MY DEAR MR. DENNIS,

WHEN I read a letter so full of my commendations as your last,' I cannot but consider you as

9" A short View of Tragedy," published (as appears from the Gentleman's Journal, by P. Motteux,) in Dec. 1692. The date in the titlepage is, 1693.

1 In the dedication to Lord Radcliffe. See vol. iii. p. 269. The Letter referred to was as follows:

“DEAR SIR,

TO MR. DRYDEN.

"You may see already by this presumptuous greeting, that encouragement gives as much assurance to friendship, as it imparts to love. You may see too, that a friend may

the master of a vast treasure, who having more than enough for yourself, are forc'd to ebb out

sometimes proceed to acknowledge affection, by the very same degrees by which a lover declares his passion. This last at first confesses esteem, yet owns no passion but admiration. But as soon as he is animated by one kind expression, his look, his style, and his very soul are altered. But as sovereign beauties know very well, that he who confesses he esteems and admires them, implies that he loves them, or is inclin'd to love them; a person of Mr. Dryden's exalted genius, can discern very well, that when we esteem him highly, 'tis respect restrains us, if we say no more. For where great esteem is without affection, 'tis often attended with envy, if not with hate; which passions detract even when they commend, and silence is their highest panegyrick. 'Tis indeed impossible, that I should refuse to love a man, who has so often given me all the pleasure that the most insatiable mind can desire: when at any time I have been dejected by disappointments, or tormented by cruel passions, the recourse to your verses has calm'd my soul, or rais'd it to transports which made it contemn tranquillity. But though you have so often given me all the pleasure I was able to bear, I have reason to complain of you on this account, that you have confined my delight to a narrower compass. Suckling, Cowley, and Denham, who formerly ravish'd me in every part of them, now appear tasteless to me in most; and Waller himself, with all his gallantry, and all that admirable art of his turns, appears three quarters prose to me. Thus 'tis plain, that your Muse has done me an injury; but she has made me amends for it. For she is like those extraordinary women, who, besides the regularity of their charming features, besides their engaging wit, have secret, unaccountable, enchanting graces;

upon your friends. You have indeed the best right to give them, since you have them in pro

when

which though they have been long and often enjoy'd, make them always new and always desirable.-I return you my hearty thanks for your most obliging letter. I had been very unreasonable, if I had repin'd that the favour arriv'd no sooner. 'Tis allowable to grumble at the delaying a payment; but to murmur at the deferring a benefit, is to be impudently ungrateful beforehand. The commendations which you give me, exceedingly sooth my vanity. For you with a breath can bestow or confirm reputation; a whole numberless people proclaims the praise which you give, and the judgments of three mighty kingdoms appear to depend upon yours. The people gave me some little applause before; but to whom, they are in the humour, will they not give it ; and to whom, when they are froward, will they not refuse it? Reputation with them depends upon chance, unless they are guided by those above them. They are but the keepers, as it were, of the lottery which Fortune sets up for renown; upon which Fame is bound to attend with her trumpet, and sound when men draw the prizes. Thus I had rather have your approbation than the applause of Fame. Her commendation argues good luck, but Mr. Dryden's implies desert. Whatever low opinion I have hitherto had of my self, I have so great a value for your judgment, that, for the sake of that, I shall be willing henceforward to believe that I am not wholly desertless; but that may find me still more supportable, I shall endeavour to compensate whatever I want in those glittering qualities, by which the world is dazled, with truth, with faith, and with zeal to serve you; qualities which for their rarity, might be objects of wonder, but that men dare not appear to admire them, because their admiration would manifestly

you