1807.) £vtracts from the Port-folio of a Man of Letiers. 
and in some parts even sublime, had 
given me the highest idea of his taste, as 
well as of his general talents. [ requested 
that he would allow me to consult him on 
a translation of some passages from the 
Georgics.” ‘The Georgics! (exclaimed he 
with surprise, and a little severity in his 
countenance) do not attemptit, itisa most 
rash undertaking; my friend, Mr. Le Franc, 
who is a man of talents, has tried it, and'L 
have told him he would notsucceed.’ How- 
ever,overcome by my wmportunities,hecon- 
sented to give me the mecting in a small 
house, in which he was accustomed to 
seclude himself twice a-week, that he 
might indulge, without restraint, his ex- 
cessive sorrow at the untimely fate of his 
only son, a young man of the highest 
hopes, who fell one of the unhappy vic- 
tims of the Lisbon earthquake. When I 
weit to him, | found him in a summer- 
house at the bottom of Ins garden. He 
again assured me of the impossibi lity of 
succeeding i in my undertaking. Intimi- 
dated by this repeated caution, I read 
with a trenibling voice about thirty lines, 
when he stopped me suddenly and said: 
“JT not only no longer dissuade you from 
your attempt, but advise you earnestly to 
proceed,’ I never experienced a greater 
sensation of delight in the whole course 
of my life. This interview (adds the 
Abbe), the modest retreat, the scene 
where my young imagination ‘pictured the 
assemblage of elowing piety; poetry, 
chaste and divine’; philosophy without 
affectation; the cohows of a father 
retched but resigned: in short, the sight 
of the venerable relic of an incoiane fa- 
mily soon to be extinct, but whose name 
shall never die, has left an impression on 
my mind which time cannot et ase.” 
ORIGINAL LETTER FROM MR. POPE “ TO 
THE REV. MR. BROOME, AT FULHAM, 
‘NEAR HARLESTONE, NORFOLK.” 
“DEAR SIR, 
“ [intended to write to you on this 'me- 
lancholy subject, the death of Mr. Fen- 
ton, before yours came, butstayed to have 
informed myself and you of the circum- 
stances of it. All [ hear is, that he felt 
a gradual decay, though so ‘early in hife, 
and was declining for five or six months. 
It was not, as I apprehended, the gout in 
his stomach, but, I believe, rather a com- 
plication first of gross humours, as he was 
naturally corpulent, not discharging them- 
selves, as he used no sort of exercise, 
53 
No man bore the approaches of his dis- 
solution (as Lam told), with less fortitude, 
or with less ostentation yielded up his 
being. The great modesty, which, you 
know, was natural to hin, and the great 
contempt he had for all sorts of vanit 
aid parade, never appeared more than 
in his last moments. He hada conscious 
satisfaction (no doubt) in acting right, 
in feeling himself honest, true, and une 
pretending to more than was his own. 
So he died, as he lived, with that secret, 
yet sufficient contentment. 
““ As to any papers left-behind him, fT 
dare say they can be but few, for this rea= 
son: he never wrote out of vanity, or 
thought much of the applause ofmen. I 
know an instance where he did his ut- 
inost to conceal his own merit that way. 
And if we join to this his natural love of 
ease, I fancy we must expect little of this 
sort: atleast, I hear of none, except some 
few furtherremarks on Waller, (which his 
cautious integrity made him leave an order 
to be given to Mr. Tonson): and perhaps, 
though it 1s many years since I saw it, 
a translation of the first book of Oppian. 
He had begun a tr agedy of Dion, but 
made small, progress in it. 
“ As to his other affairs, he died poor, 
but honest; leaving no debts, or legacies; 
except a fow pounds to Mr. 7 Trumbuil, and ~ 
my Lady, in token, of respect, grateful- 
ness, and mutual esteem. 
“[ shall, with pleasure, take upon me 
to draw this amiable, quiet, deserving, un- - 
pretending christian and eH 
character in his epitaph. There truth 
may be spoken in a few words: as for 
flourish, and oratory and poetry, I leave 
them to younger, and more live ly Wri- 
ters; such as love writing, for writing- 
sake, and would rather show | 1eir own 
fine parts, than report the valuable ones 
of any other man to the elegy I re- 
nounce 
St condole with you, from my heart, on 
the loss of so worthy aman, and a friend 
tous both. Now he is gone, I must tell 
you, he has done you many a good office, 
aod set your character in the fairest light 
to some, who either mistook you or knew 
you not. I doubt not he has done the 
same for me. 
“Tam very sincerely, Dear Sir, 
“ Your affectionate and'real servant, 
“ August, A. GPE.” 
PAeee 730. 
PROCEED. 
