"Lord, if
you pleased, what a clever miscellany might you make at leisure hours!"
exclaims the man of business; and though Pope laughed at the advice, we
might fancy that he took it to heart. He always had bits of verse on the
anvil, ready to be hammered and polished at any moment. But even Pope
could not be always writing, and the mere mention of these rambles
suggests pleasant lounging through old-world country lanes of the quiet
century. We think of the road-side life seen by Parson Adams or Humphry
Clinker, and of which Mr. Borrow caught the last glimpse when dwelling
in the tents of the Romany. In later days Pope had to put his "crazy
carcase" into a carriage, and occasionally came in for less pleasant
experiences. Whilst driving home one night from Dawley, in
Bolingbroke's carriage and six, he was upset in a stream. He escaped
drowning, though the water was "up to the knots of his periwig," but he
was so cut by the broken glass that he nearly lost the use of his right
hand. On another occasion Spence was delighted by the sudden appearance
of the poet at Oxford, "dreadfully fatigued;" he had good-naturedly lent
his own chariot to a lady who had been hurt in an upset, and had walked
three miles to Oxford on a sultry day.
A man of such brilliant wit, familiar with so many social circles,
should have been a charming companion. It must, however, be admitted
that the accounts which have come down to us do not confirm such
preconceived impressions. Like his great rival, Addison, though for
other reasons, he was generally disappointing in society.
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