ALEXANDER POPE.

Alexander Pope was born in London in 1688, and died at Twickenham in 1744. His life was, except from the point of view of literary production and literary quarrels, wholly uneventful; his character, literary and moral, has never ceased to be the subject of debate; his style in prose, as in poetry, is a triumph of elegant artifice.

A RECEIPT TO MAKE AN EPIC POEM.

FOR THE FABLE.

AKE out of any old poem, history books, romance, or

"TAKE

legend, for instance Geoffrey of Monmouth, or Don Belianis of Greece, those parts of story which afford most scope for long descriptions. Put these pieces together, and throw all the adventures you fancy into one tale. Then take a hero whom you may choose for the sound of his name, and put him into the midst of these adventures. There let him work, for twelve books; at the end of which you may take him out ready prepared to conquer, or to marry; it being necessary that the conclusion of an epic poem be fortunate."

To make an episode.-"Take any remaining adventure of your former collection, in which you could no way involve your hero; or any unfortunate accident that was too good to be thrown away; and it will be of use, applied to any other person, who may be lost and evaporate in the course of the work, without the least damage to the composition."

For the moral and allegory.-"These you may extract out of the fable afterwards at your leisure. Be sure you strain them sufficiently."

FOR THE MANNERS.

"For those of the hero, take all the best qualities you can find in all the celebrated heroes of antiquity; if they will not be reduced to a consistency, lay them all on a heap upon him. But be sure they are qualities which your patron would be thought to have; and to prevent any mistake which the world may be subject to, select from the alphabet those capital letters that compose his name, and set them at the head of a dedication before your poem. However, do not absolutely observe the exact quantity of these virtues, it not being determined, whether or no it be necessary for the hero of a poem, to be an honest man. For the under-characters, gather them from Homer and Virgil, and change the names as occasion serves."

FOR THE MACHINES.

"Take of deities, male and female, as many as you can use. Separate them into two equal parts, and keep Jupiter in the middle. Let Juno put him in a ferment, and Venus mollify him. Remember on all occasions to make use of volatile Mercury. If you have need of devils, draw them out of Milton's Paradise, and extract your spirits from Tasso. The use of these machines is evident; for since no epic poem can possibly subsist without them, the wisest way is to reserve them for your greatest necessities. When you cannot extricate your hero by any human means, or yourself by your own wit, seek relief from heaven, and the gods will do your business very readily, This is according to the direct prescription of Horace in his Art of Poetry :

Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus
Inciderit.-

Never presume to make a God appear

But for a business worthy of a God.

Roscommon.

That is to say, a poet should never call upon the gods for their assistance, but when he is in great perplexity.”

FOR THE DESCRIPTIONS.

For a tempest.-"Take Eurus, Zephyr, Auster and Boreas, and cast them together in one verse. Add to these cf rain, lightning, and of thunder, the loudest you can, quantum sufficit. Mix your clouds and billows well together, till they foam, and thicken your description here and there with a quicksand. Brew your tempest well in your head, before you set it a blowing."

For a battle." Pick a large quantity of images and descriptions from Homer's Iliad, with a spice or two of Virgil, and if there remain any overplus you may lay them by for a skirmish. Season it well with similes, and it will make an excellent battle."

For a burning town." If such a description be necessary, because it is certain there is one in Virgil, Old Troy is ready burnt to your hands. But if you fear that would be thought borrowed, a chapter or two of the Theory of the Conflagration, well circumstanced, and done into verse, will be a good succedaneum."

"As for similes and metaphors, they may be found all over the creation; the most ignorant may gather them, but the danger is in applying them. For this, advise with your bookseller."

FOR THE LANGUAGE.

I mean the diction. "Here it will do well to be an imitator of Milton, for you will find it easier to imitate him in this than anything else. Hebraisms and Grecisms are to be found in him, without the trouble of learning the languages. I knew a painter who, like our poet, had no genius, made his daubings be thought originals by setting them in the smoke. You may in the same manner give the venerable air of antiquity to your piece, by darkening it up and down with old English. With this you may be easily furnished upon any occasion, by the dictionary commonly printed at the end of Chaucer."

I must not conclude without cautioning all writers without genius in one material point, which is never to be afraid of having too much fire in their works. I should advise rather to

take their warmest thoughts, and spread them abroad upon paper; for they are observed to cool before they are read.

Guardian.

P. 168, l. 16. Conflagration. This is a reference (frequent in the wits of the time) to Thomas Burnet, an unequal but remarkable writer, who has been somewhat reluctantly excluded from this volume.

P. 168, 1. 28. Made. Pope has here dropped "who" or "but."

I

SIR,

SAMUEL RICHARDSON.

Samuel Richardson, printer and novelist, was born Derbyshire in 1689, and died in London in 1761. The vast length of Richardson's works, his jealousy of Fielding, his court of lady-admirers, kis immense popularity at home and abroad, are known to all. Not so, perhaps, his books, the style of which is certainly not their weakest part.

THE DEATH OF LOVELACE.

HAVE melancholy news to inform you of, by order of the Chevalier Lovelace. He shewed me his letter to you before he sealed it; signifying, that he was to meet the Chevalier Morden on the 15th. Wherefore, as the occasion of the meeting is so well known to you, I shall say nothing of it here.

I had taken care to have ready, within a little distance, a surgeon and his assistant, to whom, under an oath of secrecy, I had revealed the matter, though I did not own it to the two gentlemen; so that they were prepared with bandages, and all things proper. For well was I acquainted with the bravery and skill of my chevalier; and had heard the character of the other; and knew the animosity of both. A post-chaise was ready, with each of their footmen, at a little distance.

The two chevaliers came exactly at their time: They were attended by Monsieur Margate, the Colonel's gentleman, and myself. They had given orders overnight, and now repeated them in each other's presence, that we should observe a strict impartiality between them; And that, if one fell, each of us should look upon himself, as to any needful help or retreat, as