the
exquisite and spirit-like beauty of the Latin verses.--ED.

"We cannot hope to match it," said Bolingbroke, "though you know I value
myself on these things. But tell me your news of Gay: is he growing
wiser?"

"Not a whit; he is forever a dupe to the _spes credula_; always talking
of buying an annuity, that he may be independent, and always spending as
fast as he earns, that he may appear munificent."

"Poor Gay! but he is a common example of the improvidence of his tribe,
while you are an exception. Yet mark, Devereux, the inconsistency of
Pope's thrift and carelessness: he sends a parcel of fruit to some
ladies with this note, 'Take care of the papers that wrap the apples,
and return them safely; they are the only copies I have of one part of
the Iliad.' Thus, you see, our economist saves his paper, and hazards
his epic!"

Pope, who is always flattered by an allusion to his negligence of fame,
smiled slightly and answered, "What man, alas, ever profits by the
lessons of his friends? How many exact rules has our good Dean of St.
Patrick laid down for both of us; how angrily still does he chide us for
our want of prudence and our love of good living! I intend, in answer to
his charges on the latter score, though I vouch, as I well may, for our
temperance, to give him the reply of the sage to the foolish courtier--"

"What was that?" asked Bolingbroke.

"Why, the courtier saw the sage picking out the best dishes at table.
'How,' said he with a sneer, 'are sages such epicures?'--'Do you think,
Sir,' replied the wise man, reaching over the table to help himself, 'do
you think, Sir, that the Creator made the good things of this world only
for fools?'"

"How the Dean will pish and pull his wig when he reads your
illustration," said Bolingbroke, laughing. "We shall never agree in our
reasonings on that part of philosophy. Swift loves to go out of his way
to find privation or distress, and has no notion of Epicurean wisdom;
for my part, I think the use of knowledge is to make us happier. I would
compare the mind to the beautiful statue of Love by Praxiteles. When its
eyes were bandaged the countenance seemed grave and sad, but the moment
you removed the bandage the most serene and enchanting smile diffused
itself over the whole face."

So passed the morning till the hour of dinner, and this repast was
served with an elegance and luxury which the sons of Apollo seldom
command.* As the evening closed, our convers