he divines tell us, are the cause of our
perdition: for if He makes you happy in this world, I dare trust your
own virtue to do it in the other." These poets!

Lady Mary took all this in the right way, and as love-letters appraised
them at their true value. "Perhaps you'll laugh at me for thanking you
very gravely for all the obliging concern you express for me," she wrote
from Vienna in September, with, perhaps, just a touch of irony. "'Tis
certain that I may, if I please, take the fine things you say to me for
wit and raillery; and it may be, it would be taking them right. But I
never in my life was half so well disposed to believe you in earnest;
and that distance which makes the continuation of your friendship
improbable, has very much increased my faith for it, and I find that I
have (as well as the rest of my sex), whatever face I set on't, a strong
disposition to believe in miracles." As regards the rest, her side of
the correspondence was matter-of-fact to such a degree that it suggests
that she adopted that tone in order to lease him. Her replies can
scarcely have given Pope any satisfaction. From Vienna she gave him a
detailed account of the opera and the theatre; from Belgrade she told
him of the war and of an Arabic scholar and also of the climate; from
Adrianople she discoursed of the Hebrus, of the lads of the village, of
Addison and Theocritus, pays him compliments on his translation of
Homer, and a copy of some Turkish verses; and so on. The most striking
thing about her letters is the absence of the personal note, which is so
often introduced when she was writing to others. They read more like
essays than communications to a friend.

Pope, in a letter dated September 1, 1718, sent Lady Mary a copy of his
verses.

ON JOHN HUGHES AND SARAH DREW

When Eastern lovers fear'd the fun'eral fire
On the same pile the faithful pair expire!
Here pitying Heav'n that virtue mutual found,
And blasted both, that it might neither wound.
Hearts so sincere th' Almighty saw well pleas'd,
Sent his own lightning and the victims seiz'd.

I
Think not by vig'rous judgment seiz'd,
A pair so faithful could expire;
Victims so pure Heav'n saw well pleas'd,
And snatch'd them in celestial fire.

II
Live well, and fear no sudden fate:
When God calls virtue to the grave;
Alike 'tis justice, soon or late,
Mercy alike to kill or save.
Virtue unmov'd can hear the call.
And face