to undertake this journey.  And, indeed, I am not very easy when I reflect on what I am going to suffer.  Almost every body I see frights me with some new difficulty.  Prince Eugene has been so good as to say all the things he could, to persuade me to stay till the Danube is thawed, that I may have the conveniency of going by water; assuring me, that the houses in Hungary are such, as are no defence against the weather; and that I shall be obliged to travel three or four days between Buda and Essek, without finding any house at all, through desert plains covered with snow; where the cold is so violent, many have been killed by it.  I own these terrors have made a very deep impression on my mind, because I believe he tells me things truly as they are, and no body can be better informed of them.

NOW I have named that great man, I am sure you expect I should say Something particular of him, having the advantage of seeing him very often; but I am as unwilling to speak of him at Vienna, as I should be to talk of Hercules in the court of Omphale, if I had seen him there.  I don’t know what comfort other people find in considering the weakness of great men, (because, perhaps, it brings them nearer to their level) but ’tis always a mortification to me, to observe that there is no perfection in humanity.  The young prince of Portugal is the admiration of the whole court; he is handsome and polite, with a great vivacity.  All the officers tell wonders of his gallantry the last campaign.  He is lodged at court with all the honours due to his rank.—­Adieu, dear sister:  this is the last account you will have from me of Vienna.  If I survive my journey, you shall hear from me again.  I can say, with great truth, in the words of Moneses (sic), I have long learnt to hold myself as nothing; but when I think of the fatigue my poor infant must suffer, I have all a mother’s fondness in my eyes, and all her tender passions in my heart.

P.  S. I have written a letter to my lady ——­, that I believe she won’t like; and, upon cooler reflection, I think I had done better to have let it alone; but I was downright peevish at all her questions, and her ridiculous imagination, that I have certainly seen abundance of wonders which I keep to myself out of mere malice.  She is very angry that I won’t lie like other travellers.  I verily believe she expects I should tell her of the Anthropophagi, men whose heads grow below their shoulders; however, pray say Something to pacify her.

LET.  XXII.

TO MR POPE.

Vienna, Jan. 16.  O. S. 1717.