DEAR SIR,

LETTER IX.

MR. Gay and I am here, reading (but not writing)

all day long. He is the reverse of you, and hates exercise,-nay, I can't fo much as get him into the garden. I employ myself yet a little there, and a little in cafting my eye upon the great heap of fragments and hints before me, for my large and almoft boundless work, to remove as much of which as is in any method, out of the reft, is so much clearing the way therefore it is that I trouble you with fo much tranfcribing. I fend the third of the first part, relating to fociety and government, which I believe Mr. Doves may pick out. And if he has tranfcribed what last I left with you, pray fend it by the bearer. I have no thought of going to town these five days. All health attend you and

yours.

Ever your affectionate friend and fervant,

Pray fend fome of

your flyptic.

To Mr. Fortefeue.

A. POPE.

DEAR SIR,

LETTER X.

Twitnam, Tuesday, April 1736.

I

NEED not tell you I am heartily glad of your return my rheumatifm having left me is not a greater joy. But I cannot leave this place at this important time, when every hour of my being here gives it a new improvement, as you will fee when you come (I hope on Saturday). I inquired, but did not find the Ladies were fo early at Richmond as you writ me word: indeed, the casterly wind was enough to difcourage them. I fend you the paper, which I fee, by what you faid, you like better than I do. I hope the subscription will fail, fo far at least as to excufe me from the thing I never liked, and have been over-perfuaded to do. I am truly, and always,

If

you take

Yours,

A. POPE.

any fubfcribers in, you must give them a receipt in this form: Received of one guinea, being the whole payment for a volume of Mr. Pope's works, in profe, which, if the impreffion does not go on, I promise to return, on demand, after Midfummer

next.

W. F.

To the Honourable Mr. Baron Fortescue, in Bell-yard, by Lincoln's Inn, Lon

don.

DEAR SIR,

LETTER XI.

Friday Night.

You may think I have forgot you, and I

you have forgot me; but I believe neither of us The truth is, I have been

will think fo wrong. neither at home nor at London a day together; for my Lord Peterborow came very ill from Hantshire to Kensington a fortnight fince, and has ever fince kept his chamber, where I have been to help him pass his time almost daily. It was but yesterday that I left him well enough to stay at Twitnam for a few days. If this reach you in time, and at leisure, I hope it will bring you hither for a night. As foon as I return to town, you fhall be troubled with me. Adieu! and may all health attend you, as I wish.

ރ

Yours always,

To Wm. Fortefeue, Efq.

A. POPE,

DEAR SIR,

LETTER XII.

THE only day I had I came hither, and was unlucky in miffing you. I go away this moment; if you come on Saturday, Lady Suffolk dines with me, and you will find her even after dinner, if you can't come fooner. On Sunday I fhall be at home: why can't you lie at Twitnam Saturday night? I want to ask and tell you many things,-some of businefs. I hope Mr. Cs has got the remainder of Mrs. Blount's debt from her brother, the whole 751. which she has occafion enough for. Adieu! and know me for

Yours ever faithfully,

To Mr. Fortefeue.

LETTER XIII.

A. POPE.

I

DEAR SIR,

Thursday.

AM heartily glad to hear of your fafe arrival in town, and doubt not you will be pleased that I am as fafe at Twitnam. I came from Bath two

days fince hither, and find my mother tolerably well, as I hope you left all yours. I fhould be glad to fee you in town, but having been fo long abfent, have fome neceffary matters here for a few days, which I would purfue, if you could find it fuitable to your convenience to lie here on Saturday, and pass the Sunday together, otherwife I will wait on you. In the mean time, pray convey this letter to Mr. Howard, it is a cafe that requires difpatch, as you will fee: and I beg, if you can, to favour it with any of the Board of Admiralty that you know, for I am convinced that he is ill ufed. Adieu! dear Sir, till we meet. Pray give me a line by Boury. I have a thousand things to fay to you.

Your ever affectionate fervant,