as ridiculous to roar and clap
at it. But, Sir, as so many of the Government's Friends were willing to
excuse its Faults for the Honesty of its Intention; so, if you were not
of that Number, I do not wonder you had so strong a Reason to dislike
it. In the same Letter too, this wicked Play runs so much in your Head,
that in the favourable Character you there give of the Lady _Scudamore_,
you make it a particular Merit in her, that she had not then even

_Seen_ Cibber_'s Play of the_ Non-juror.

I presume, at least, she had heard Mr. _Pope_'s Opinion of it, and then
indeed the Lady might be in the right.

I suppose by this time you will say, I have tir'd your Patience; but I
do assure you I have not said so much upon this Head, merely to
commemorate the Applauses of _The Non-juror_, as to shew the World one
of your best Reasons for having so often publish'd your Contempt of the
Author. And yet, methinks, the Good-nature which you so frequently
labour to have thought a part of your Character, might have inclin'd you
to a little more Mercy for an old Acquaintance: Nay, in your Epistle to
Dr. _Arbuthnot_, ver. 373, you are so good as to say, you have been so
humble as to _drink with Cibber_. Sure then, such Humility might at
least have given the Devil his Due: for, black as I am, I have still
some Merit to you, in the profess'd Pleasure I always took in your
Writings? But alas! if the Friendship between yourself and Mr.
_Addison_, (which with such mutual Warmth you have profess'd in your
publish'd Letters) could not protect him from that insatiable Rage of
Satyr that so often runs away with you, how could so frivolous a Fellow
as I am (whose Friendship you never cared for) hope to escape it?
However, I still comfort myself in one Advantage I have over you, that
of never having deserved your being my Enemy.

You see, Sir, with what passive Submission I have hitherto complained to
you: but now give me leave to speak an honest Truth, without caring how
far it may displease you. If I thought, then, that your Ill-nature were
half as hurtful to me, as I believe it is to yourself, I am not sure I
could be half so easy under it. I am told, there is a Serpent in some of
the _Indies_, that never stings a Man without leaving its own Life in
the Wound: I have forgot the Name of it, and therefore cannot give it
you. Or if this be too hard upon you, permit me at least to say, your
Spleen is sometimes like that of the little angry