I am, Madam, Your, etc.*
I beg Mr. Wortley to believe me his nioft humble
fervant.
* It is remarkable, that this defcription of an old manfion is
the very fame with that he fent to the Duke of Buckingham, in
anfwer to one the Duke had given him of Buckingham-houfe.
See Letter XII. to the Duke of Buckingham.
I
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 401
LETTER IX.
TO THE SAME.
Madam, Cirencefter, Sept. 15, 1721.
j WRITE this purely to confefs myfelf ingenuoufly
what I am, a bead ; firft, for writing to you
without gilt paper; and fecondly, for what I faid
and did about your harpfichord. For which (and
for many Other natural reafons) I am juftly turned as
a bead to grafs and parks. I deferve no better
pillow than a mofly bank, for that head which
could be guilty of fo much thoughtleflhefs, as to pro-
mife what was not in my power, without confider-
ing firft whether it was or not. But the truth is,
I imagined you would take it merely as an excufe,
had I told you I had the inftrument under fuch con-
ditions ; and I likewife fimply thought I could ob-
tain leave to lend it ; which failing on the trial, I
fuffer now, I find, in your opinion of my veracity,
partly from my over-forward defire to have gratified
you. The next thing I can do, is to intreat you, fince
you have not your harpfichord, that you would have
that and the gallery together, for your concerts j
which I fmcerely wifh you could make ufe of, and
which I take to be mine to lend, unlefs my mother
knows fome conditions againft it, to Mr. Vernon.
I very much envy you your mufical company,
which you have a fort of obligation to believe, in
VOL. vni. D D return
402 LETTERS TO
return to a man, who fmgly afierts your fine tafte
that way, in contradiction to the whole world.
It muft be fure from that piece of merit (for I have
no other that I know of toward you) that you can think
of flattering me at an hundred miles diftance, in the
moft affefting manner, by a mention of my trees and
garden. What an honour is it to my great walk,
that the fineft woman in this world cannot ftir from
it? That walk extremely well anfwered the intent
of its contriver, when it detained her there. But for
this accident, how had I defpifed and totally forgot
my own little Colifichies, in the daily views of the
noble fcenes, openings, and avenues, of this im-
menfe defign at Cirencefter ? No words, nor painting,
nor poetry, (not even your own,) can give the lead
image proportionable to it. And my Lord Bathuifl
bids me tell you, and the young Lady with you,
that the defcription would coft me much more time
than it would coft you to come hither ; which, if
you have any regard, either for my pains or reputation,
you will do to fave me that trouble, as well as to
take to yourfelf the glory of defcribing it.
For lodging you need be under no manner of con-
cern; for he invites thither every woman he fees,
and every man ; thofe of a more aerial or mufical na-
ture, may lodge upon the trees with the birds ; and
thofe of a more earthy or grofs temperature, with the
beafls of the fields upon the ground.
Your, etc.
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 403
LETTER X.
TO THE SAME.
Sunday.
INDEED, dear Madam, 'tis not poflible to tell you,
whether you give me every day I fee you, more
pleafure or more refpeft. And, upon my word,
whenever I fee you after a day or two's abfence, it
is in juft fuch a view as that you yefterday had of
your own writings. I find you ftill better than I
could imagine, and I think I was partial before, to
your prejudice.
The picture dwells really at my heart, and I have
made a perfect paflion of preferring your prefent face
to your paft. I know and thoroughly efteem your-
felf of this year : I know no more of Lady Mary
Pierrepoint, than to admire at what I have heard of
her, or be pleafed with fome fragments of hers as I
am with Sappho's. But now I can't fay what I would
fay of you now. Only ftill give me caufe to fay you
are good to me, and allow me as much of your
perfon as Sir Godfrey can help me to. Upon con-
ferring with him yefterday, I find he thinks it ab-
folutely neceflary to draw the face firft, which he
fays can never be fet right on the figure, if the drapery
and pofture be finimed before. To give you as
little trouble as poflible, he propofes to draw your
face with crayons, and finifh it up at your own houfe
D D 2 in
LETTERS TO
in a morning; from whence he will transfer it to
the canvas, fo that you need not go to fit at his
houfe. This, I muft obferve, is a manner in which
they feldoni draw any but crowned heads ; and I ob-
ferve it with fecret pride and pleafure.
Be fo kind as to tell me .if you care he mould do
this to-morrow at twelve. Though I am but afiured
from you of the thing, let the manner and time be
what you beft like : let every decorum you pleafe, be
obfervecl. I mould be very unworthy of any favour
from your hands, if I defired any at the expence of
your quiet, or conveniency, '\r\ any degree.
I have juft received this Pamphlet, which may di-
T r i
vert you. I am fincerely
Yours, etc.
LETTER XI.
TO THE SAME.
Madam, Tuefday morning.
QO natural as I find it is to me, to neglect every body
elfe in your company, I am fenfible I ought to
do any thing that might pleafe you ; and I fancied,
upon recollection, our writing the Letter you pro-
pofed was of that nature. I therefore fate down to
my part of it lafl night, when I mould have gone out
of town. Whether or no you will order me, in re-
compence,
LADY M, W. MONTAGUE. 405
compence, to fee you again, I leave to you ; for in-
deed I find I begin to behave myfelf worfe to you
than to any other woman, as I value you more, and
yet if I thought I mould not fee you again, I would
fay fome things here, which I could not to your per-
fon. For I would not have you die deceived in me,
that is, go to Conftantinople without knowing, that
I am to fome degree of extravagance, as well as with
the utmoft reafoh, Madam,
Your, etc.
LETTER XII.
TO THE SAME.
Madam,
J F to live in the memory of others have any thing
defireable in it, 'tis what you poflefs with regard to
me, in the highefl fenfe of the words. There is not a
day in which your figure does not appear before me;
your converfations return to my thoughts, and every
fcene, place, or occafion, where I have enjoyed them,
are as livelily painted, as an imagination equally warm
and tender can be capable to reprefent them. Yet how
little accrues to you from all this, when not only my
wifhes, but the very expreflkms of them, can hardly ever
arrive to be known to you? I cannot tell whether you
havefeen half the letters I have writj but if you had, I
D D 3 have
4 66 LETTERS TO
have not faid in them half of what I defigned to fay ;
and you can have feen but a faint, flight, timorous Ef-
chantillon of what my fpirit fuggefts, and my hand fol-
lows flowly, and imperfectly, indeed unjuftly, becaufe
difcreetly and refervedly. When you told me there
was no way left for our correfpondence, but by mer-
chant fhips, I watched ever fmce for any that fet out,
and this is the firft I could learn of. I owe the know-
ledge of it to Mr. Congreve (whofe letters, with my
Lady Rich's, accompany this). However I was im-
patient enough to venture two from Mr. Methuen's
office; they have mifcarried, you have loft nothing
but fuch words and wifhes as I repeat every day in
your memory, and for your welfare. I have had
thoughts of caufing what I write for the future to be
tranfcribed, and to fend copies by more ways than
one, that one at leaft might have a chance to reach
you. The letters themfelves would be artlefs and
natural enough to prove there could be no vanity in
this practice, and to mew it proceeded from the belief
of their being welcome to you, not as they came from
me, but. from England. My eye-fight is grown fo
bad, that I have left off all correfpondence except with
yourfelf ; in which methinks I am like thofe people
who abandon and abftraft themfelves from all that
are about them, (with whom they might have bufi-
nefs and intercourfe,) to employ their addrelTes only to
invifible and diftant beings, whofe good offices and
favours cannot reach them in a long time, if at all.
If
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 407
If I hear from you, I look upon it as little lefs than
a miracle, or extraordinary vifitation from another
world ; 'tis a fort of dream of an agreeable thing, which
fubfifts no more to me; but however it is fuch a
dream as exceeds moft of the dull realities of my life.
Indeed, what with ill-health and ill-fortune, I am
grown fo ftupidly philofophical as to have no thought
about me that deferves the name of warm or lively,
but that which fometimes awakens me into an imagi-
nation that I may yet fee you again. Compafiionate
a poet, who has loft all manner of romantic ideas j
except a few that hover about the Bofphorus and
Hellefpont, not fo much for the fine found of their
names as to raife up images of Leander, who was
drowned in crofling the fea to kifs the hand of fair
Hero. This were a deftiny lefs to be lamented, than
what we are told of the poor Jew, one of your in-
terpreters, who was beheaded at Belgrade as a Spy.
I confefs fuch a death would have been a great dif-
appointment to me ; and I believe Jacob Tonfon will
hardly venture to vifit you, after this news.
You tell me, the pleafure of being nearer the Sun
has a great effect upon your health and fpirits. You
have turned my affections fo far Eaftward, that I
could almoft be one of his worfhippers : for I think
the Sun has more reafon to be proud of raifmg your
fpirits, than of raifmg all the plants, and ripening all
the minerals in the earth. It is my opinion, a reafon-
able man might gladly travel three or four thoufand
D D 4 leagues,
4o8 LETTERS TO
leagues, to fee your nature, and your wit, in their full
perfection. What may not we expect from a creature
that went out the moft perfect of this part of the
world, and is every day improving by the Sun in the
other ! If you do not now write and fpeak the fmeft
things imaginable, you muft be content to be involved
in the fame imputation with the reft of the Eaft, and
be concluded to have abandoned yourfelf to extreme
effeminacy, lazinefs, and lewdnefs of life.
I make not the lead queftion but you could give me
great eclaircifiements upon many pafTages in Homer,
fince you have been enlightened by the fame Sun that
infpired the father of Poetry. You are now glowing
under the climate that animated him > you may fee
his images rifing more boldly about you, in the very
feenes of his ftory and action ; you may lay the im-
mortal work on fome broken column of a Hero's
fepulchre; and read the fall of Troy in the made of a
Trojan ruin. But if, to vifit the tomb of fo many
Heroes, you have not the heart to pafs over that fea
where once a lover perimed ; you may at leaft, at
eafe, in your own window* contemplate the fields of
Afia, in fuch a dim and remote profpect, as you have
of Homer in my translation,
I fend you therefore with this, the third volume of
the Iliad, and as many other things as fill a wooden
box, directed to Mr. Wortley. Among the reft, you
have all I am worth, that is, my works: there are
few things in them but what you have already feen,
except
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 40$
except the epiftle of Eloifa to Abelard, in \vhich
you will find one paflfage, that I cannot tell whether to
wifh you fhould underftand, or not.
For the news in London, I'll fum it up in fhort;
we have Mafquerades at the Theatre in the Hay-
market, of Mr. Heideker's institution; they are very
frequent, yet the adventures are not fo numerous but
that of my Lady Mohun ftill makes the chief figure.
Her marriage to young Mordant, and all its circum-
ftances, I fuppofe you'll have from Lady Rich or
Mifs Griffith. The political ftate is under great divi-
fions, the parties of Walpole and Stanhope as vio-
lent as Whig and Tory. The K. and P. continue two
names, there is nothing like a coalition, but at the
Mafquerade; however the Princefs is a difienter from
it, and has a very fmall party in fo unmodifh a lepa-
ration.
The laft I received from your hands was from
Peterwaradin ; it gave me the joy of thinking you in
good health and humour : one or two expreflions in
it are too generous ever to be forgotten by me. I
writ a very melancholy one juft before, which was
fent to Mr. Stanyan, to be forwarded through Hun-
gary. It would have informed you how meanly I
thought of the pleafures of Italy, without the qualifi-
cation of your company, and that mere flatues and
pictures are not more cold to me, than I to them. I
have had but four of your letters ; I have fent feveral,
and wifh I knew how many you have received. For
3 God's
410 LETTERS TO
God's fake, Madam, fend to me as often as you can 5
in the dependance that there is no man breathing more
conflantly, or more anxioufly mindful of you. Tell
me that you are well, tell me that your little fon is well,
tell me that your very dog (if you have one) is well.
Defraud me of no one thing that pleafes you: for what-
ever that is, it will pleafe me better than any thing elfe
can do.
I am always yours.
LETTER XIII.
itrt o-^kirc . ? xptfrb
THE SAME.
TF you muft go from us, I wifh at leaft you might
pafs to your banimment by the moft pleafant wayj
might all your road be rofes and myrtles, and a thou-
fand objects rife round you, agreeable enough to
make England lefs defireable to you. I am glad,
Madam, your native country ufes you fo well as to
juftify your regret for it: it is not for me to talk of it
with tears in my eyes; I can never think that place my
country, where I cannot call a foot of paternal earth
my own. Indeed it may feem fome alleviation, that
when the wifeft thing I can do is to leave my country,
that which was moft agreeable in it mould be taken
from thence beforehand. I could overtake you with
pleafure in Italy, (if you took that way,) and make that
tour in your company. Every reafonable entertain-
ment
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 4 n
ment and beautiful view would be doubly inftru&ive
when you talked of it. I fhould at leafl attend you to
the fea-coaft, and caft a laft look after the fails that tran-
fported you, if I liked Italy enough to refide in it.
But I believe, I fhould be as uneafy in a country
where I faw others persecuted by the rogues of my
own religion, as where I was fo myfelf by thofe of
yours. And it is not impoffible but I might run
into Turkey in fearch of liberty; for who would not
rather live a free man among a nation of flaves, than
a flave among a nation of free men?
In good earned, if I knew your motions towards
Italy (on the fuppofition you go that courfe) and your
exact time, I verily think I mould be once more happy
in a fight of you, next fpring. I'll conclude with a
wifh, God fend you with us, or me with you.
By what I have feen of Monf. Roufleau's works, I
mould envy you his converfation. But I am fure I
envy him yours.
Mr. Addifon has not had one Epithalamium that I
can hear of, and muft even be reduced, like a poorer
and a better poet, Spencer, to make his own.
Mr. Congreve is entirely yours, and has writ twice
to you; he is not in town, but well; I am in great
health, and fit up all night; a juft reward for a fever
I juft come out of, that kept me in bed feven days.
How may I fend a large bundle to you?
I beg you will put dates to your letters ; they are
not long enough.
I might
4*2 LETTERS, etc.
I might be dead, or you in Yorklkire, for any thing
that I am the better for your being in Town ; I have
been fick ever fince I faw you laft, and have now a
fwelled face, and very bad ; nothing will do me fo
much good as the fight of dear Lady Mary ; when you
eome this way let me< fee yoa, for indeed I love
you
':; i! ;!:.'::: I 2nd old&oqmi ion ai li bnA .?/wtr(
r:A\ ,/- A) iioi a ;j svif i^iijfii
: nam 3311 io noiJsa u ^noni avjsll K
f.inu./c:'.. :,.i /!>o'n ipo^ y<9pf ^ I 1i ^ftsntsa Loog nl
iijoY briK (-JituoD lffj o^ HQV noiliioqqjjl orli no) vlntl
*^sc^*
i, ilii7/ .obuJDjpop fi 11 ! .; z nl
.upY lijiw 91 .O f rfHv/
I V 3;lio?f g'yi. -3
I 3II/1 OTfi I J.'J'I '^Oift
.
( 413 )
[We find by Letter xix to Dr. Atterbury, (p. 1 18 of this
volume,) that the Duchefs of Buckinghamfhire would have
engaged Mr. Pope to draw her hufband's character. But
though he refufed this office, yet in his Epiftle, on the Cba-
raSler of Women, thefe lines,
To heirs unknown defcends th* unguarded (lore,
Or wanders, heav'n-dire&ed, to the poor *,
are fuppofed to mark her out in fuch a manner as not to be
miftaken for another ; and having faid of himfelf that he
hdd a lie in profe and verfe to be the fame : All this together
gave a handle to his enemies, fince his death, to publifh the
following paper (intitled, The Character of Katherine, etc.)
as written by him. On which account (in vindication of
the deceafed poet) we have fubjoined to it a letter to a
friend, that will let the reader fully into the hiftory of the
writing and publication of this extraordinary CHARACTER.]
W.
* Thefe two lines arc in the character of Atofia, who was the
Duchefs of Marlborough, and not Buckingham.
C 415 )
THE CHARACTER OF
K A T H E R I N E,
LATE
DUCHESS OF BUCKINGHAMSHIRE
AND NORMANBY.
BY THE LATE MR. POPE.
^HE was the daughter of James the Second, and of
the Countefs of Dorchefter, who inherited the
integrity and virtue of her father with happier fortune.
She was married firft to James earl of Anglefey; and
fecondly, to John Sheffield duke of Buckinghammire
and Normanby ; with the former me exercifed the
virtues of patience and mffering, as long as there was
any hopes of doing good by either ; with the latter
all other conjugal virtues. The man of fineil fenfe
and fharpeft difcernment, me had the happinefs to
pleafe ; and, in that found her only pleafure. When
he died, it feemed as if his fpirit was only breathed
into her, to fulfil what he had begun, to perform
what he had concerted, and to preferve and watch
over what he had left, his only fon ; in the care of
vvhofe health, the forming of whofe mind, and the
improvement of whofe fortune, me acted with the
conduct and fenfe of the father, foftened, but not
over-
overcome, with the tendernefs of the mother. Her
underftanding was fuch as muft have made a figure,
had it been in a man ; but the modefly of her fex
threw a veil over its luftre, which neverthelefs fup-
prefled only the expreffion, not the exertion of it ;
for her fenfe was not fuperior to her refolution,
which, when once me was in the right, preferved her
from making it only a tranfition to the wrong, the
frequent weaknefs even of the beft women. She
often followed wife counfel, but fometimes went be-
fore it, always with fuccefs. She was poflefled of a
fpirit, which aflifted her to get the better of thofe ac-
cidents which admitted of any redrefs, and enabled
her to fupport outwardly, with decency and dignity,
thofe which admitted of none ; yet melted inwardly,
through almoft her whole life, at a fucceffion of me-
lancholy and affe&ing objects, the lofs of all her child-
ren, the misfortunes of relations and friends, public
and private i and the death of thofe who were deareft
to her. Her heart was as compaffionate as it was
great : her affections warm even to folicitude : her
friendlhip not violent or jealous, but rational and per-
fevering : her gratitude equal and conftant to the liv-
ing ; to the dead boundlefs and heroical. What per-
fon foever fhe found worthy of her efteem, me would
not give up for any power on earth ; and the greateft
on earth whom (he could not efteem, obtained from
her no farther tribute than decency. Her good-will
was wholly directed by merit, not by accident ; not
meafured
meafured by the regard they profefied for her own
defert, but by her idea of theirs : and as there was no
merit which- fhe was not able to imitate, there was
none which fhe could envy : therefore her conver-
fation was as free from detraction as her opinions from
prejudice or prepofiefTion. As her thoughts were her
own, fo were her words j and (he was as fincere in
uttering her judgment, as impartial in forming it.
She was a fafe companion ; many were ferved, none
ever fuffered by her acquaintance : inoffenfive, when
unprovoked j when provoked, not flupid : but the
moment her enemy ceafed to be hurtful, fhe could
ceafe to acl: as an enemy. She was therefore not a
bitter but confident enemy : (though indeed, when
forced to be fo, the more a finifhed one for having
been long a making.) And her proceeding with ill
people was more in a calm and fteady courfe, like
juflice, than in quick and paflionate onfets, like re-
venge. As for thofe of whom fhe only thought ill,
fhe confidered them not fo much as once to wifh them
ill ; of fuch, her contempt was great enough to put
a flop to all other paflions that could hurt them.
Her love and averfion, her gratitude and refentment,
her efleem and negleft, were equally open and ftrong,
and alterable only from the alteration of the perfons
who created them. Her mind was too noble to be
'nfmcere, and her heart too honefl to ftand in need
of it; fo that fhe never 4 found caufe to repent her
conduct either to a friend or an enemy. There re-
VOL, vni. E E mains
( 418 )
mains only to fpeak of her perfon, which was moil
amiably majeftic ; the niceft eye could find no fault
in the outward lineaments of her face or proportion
of her body : it was fuch, as pleafed wherever me
had a defire it mould ; yet me never envied that of
any other, which might better pleafe in general : in
the fame manner, as being content that her merits
were efteemed where me defired they mould, me never
depreciated thofe of any other that were efteemed or
preferred elfewhere. For me aimed not at a general
love or a general efteem, where fhe was not known ;
it was enough to be poflefled of both wherever fhe
was. Having lived to the age of fixty-two years;
not courting regard, but receiving it from all who
knew her; not loving bufmefs, but difcharging it
fully wherefoever duty or friendfhip engaged her in
it ; not following greatnefs, but not declining to pay
refpect, as far as was due from independency and dif-
intereft ; having honourably abfolved all the parts of
life, fhe forfook this world, where fhe had left no act
of duty or virtue undone, for that where alone fuch
afts are rewarded, on the 1 3th day of March 1 742-3 a .
a " The above character was written by Mr. Pope fome years
" before her Grace's death." So the printed edition. W.
MR.
MR. POPE TO JAMES MOYSER, OF BE-
VERLEY,
Dear Sir, Bath, July n, 1743.
y AM always glad to hear of you, and where I can I
always enquire of you. But why have you omitted
to tell me one word of your own health ? The account
of our friend's b is truly melancholy, added to the cir-
cumftance of his being detained (I fear without much
hope) in a foreign country, from the. comfort of fee-
ing (what a good man mod defires and bed deferves
to fee to the laft hour) his friends about him. The
public news c indeed gives every Englishman a reafon-
able joy, and I truly feel it with you, as a national joy,
not a party one ; nay as a general joy to all nations
where bloodfhed and mifery muft have been introduced,
had the ambition and perfidy of - prevailed.
I come now to anfwer your friend's queftion. The
whole of what he has heard of my writing the cha-
racter of the old d Duke of Buckingham is untrue. I
do not remember ever to have feen it in MS. nor
have I ever feen the pedigree he mentions, otherwife
than after the Duchefs had printed it with the will,
and fent one to me, as, I fuppofe, me did to all her
acquaintance. I do not wonder it mould be reported
I writ
b Mr. Bethel. c The viaory at Dcttingen. W.
d He fays the old Duke, becaufe he wrote a very fine epitaph for
the fon. W
( 420 )
I writ that character, after a ftory which I will tell you
in your ear, and to yourfelf only. There was ano-
ther Character written of her Grace by herfelf (with
what help, I know not) ; but (he fhewed it me in her
blots, and prefled me, by all the adjurations of friend-
fliip, to give her my fmcere opinion of it. I acted
honeftly and did fo. She feemed to take it patiently,
and, upon many exceptions which I made, engaged
me to take the whole, and to felect out of it juft as
much as I judged might (land, and return her the
copy. I did fo. Immediately me picked a quarrel
with me, and we never faw each other in five or fix