lieve that you have not an acquaintance in the world that would be more in earneft on fuch an occafion than I, for Í love you, as well as efteem you. All the while I have been writing, Pain, and a fine Thrufh have been feverally endeavouring to call off my attention; but both in vain, nor fhould I yet part with you, but that the turning over a new leaf frights me a little, and makes me refolve to break thro' a new temptation, before it has taken too faft hold on me. I am, &c. LETTER XVIII. From the fame. June 15, 1722. γου OU have generally written firft, after our parting; I will now be before-hand with you in my enquiries, how you got home, and how you do, and whether you met with Lord, and deliver'd my civil reproach to him in the manner I defired? I fuppofe you did not, because I have heard nothing either from you, or from him on that head; as I fuppofe, I might have done, if you had found him. I am fick of these men of quality; and the more fo, the oft'ner I have any bufinefs to tranfact with them. They look upon it as one of their diftinguishing privileges, not to be punctual in any bufinefs, of how great importance foever; nor to fet other people at eafe, with the lofs of the leaft part of their own. This conduct of his vexes me ; but to what purpose? or how can I alter it? I long to fee the original MS. of Milton: but don't know how to come at it, without your repeated affistance. I hope you won't utterly forget what pafs'd in the coach about Sampfon Agoniftes. I fhall not prefs you as to time, but fome time or other, I wish you would review and polifh that piece. If upon a new perufal of it (which I defire you to make) you think as I do, that it is written in the very fpirit of the Ancients; it deferves your care, and is capable of being improv'd, with little trouble, into perfect model and standard of Tragic poetry-always allowing for its being a story taken out of the Bible; which is an objection that at this time of day, I know, is not to be got over I am, &c. LET LETTER XIX. July 27. Have been as conftantly at Twitenham as your Lordship has at Bromley, ever fince you faw Lord Bathurst. At the time of the Duke of Marlborough's funeral, I intend to lie at the Deanry, and moralize one evening with you on the vanity of human glory. The Duchefs's letter concerns me nearly, and you know it, who know all my thoughts without difguife: I muft keep clear of Flattery; I will: and as this is an honeft refolution, I dare hope, your Lordship will not be fo unconcern'd for my keeping it, as not to affift me in fo doing. I beg therefore you would reprefent thus much at leaft to her Grace, that as to the fear fhe seems touch'd with [That the Duke's memory fhould have no advantage but what he muft give himself, without being beholden to any one friend] your Lordship may certainly, and agreeably to your character, both of rigid honour and chriftian plainnefs, tell her, that no man can have any other advantage and that all offerings of friends in fuch a case pass for nothing. But be fo good as to confirm what I've represented to her, that an infcription in the antient way, plain, pompous, yet modeft, will be the most uncommon, and therefore the moft diftinguishing manner of doing it. And fo, I hope, fhe will be fatisfied, the Duke's honour be preferv'd, and my integrity alfo which is too facred a thing to be forfeited, in confideration of any little (or what people of quality may call great) honour or diftinction whatever, which those of their rank can beftow on one of mine; and which indeed they are apt to over-rate, but never fo much, as when they imagine us under any obligation to fay one untrue word in their favour. I can only thank you my Lord, for the kind tranfition you make from common bufinefs, to that which is the only real business of every reasonable creature. Indeed I think more of it than you imagine, tho' not fo much as I ought. I am pleas'd with those Latin verfes extremely, which are fo very good that I thought them yours, 'till you call'd them an Horatian Cento, and then I recollected the disjecti membra poeta. I won't pretend I am so totally in those fentiments which you compliment me with, as I yet hope to VOL. IV. The Duchefs of Buckingham, be be: You tell me I have them, as the civileft method to patin mind how much it fits me to have them. I ought, fit, to prepare my mind by a better knowledge even of good prophane writers, especially the Moralifts, &c. before I can be worthy of tafting that fupreme of books, and fublime of all writings. In which, as in all the intermediate ones, you may (if your friendship and chariry toward me continue so far) be the best guide to I LETTER XX. Your, &c. From the Bishop of ROCHESTER. * July 30, 1722. Have written to the Duchefs juft as you defir'd, and referred her to our meeting in town for a further account of it. I have done it the rather becaufe your opinion in the cafe is fincerely mine: and if it had not been fo, you yourfelf fhould not have induced me to give it. Whether, and how far fhe will acquiefce in it, I cannot fay: efpecially in a cafe where fhe thinks the Duke's honour concern'd, but fhould the feem to perfift a little at prefent, her good fenfe (which I depend upon) will afterwards fatisfy her that we are in the right. I go to-morrow to the Deanry, and I believe, I fhall ftay there, till I have faid Duft to duft, and fhut up that + laft fcene of pompous vanity. 'Tis a great while for me to ftay there at this time of the year; and I know I fhall often fay to myself, while I am expecting the funeral, O Rus, quando ego te aufpiciam! quandoque licebit In this cafe I fhall fancy I hear the ghoft of the dead, thus intreating me, At tu facratæ ne parce malignus arenæ Offibus et capiti inhumato Particulam dare Quanquam feftinas, non eft mora longa; licebit, * Duchess of Buckingham. This was the Funeral of the Duke of Marlborough, at which the Bishop officiated as Dean of Westminster, in Aug. 1722. There There is an answer for me fomewhere in Hamlet to this requeft, which you remember, tho' I don't. Poor Gholt! thou shalt be fatisfied!-or fomething like it. However that be, take care you do not fail in your appointment, that the company of the living may make me fome amends for my attendance on the dead. I know you will be glad to hear that I am well: 1 fhould always could I always be here Sed me Imperiofa trahit Proferpina: vive, valeque. You are the first man 1 fent to this morning, and the last man I defire to converfe with this evening, tho' at twenty miles diftance from you. I Te, veniente die, Te, decedente, requiro. LETTER XXI. From the Bishop of ROCHESTER. DEAR SIR, The Tower, April, 10, 1723. Thank you for all the inftances of your friendship, both before, and fince my misfortunes. A little time will complete them, and feparate you and me for ever. But in what part of the world foever I am, I will live mindful of of your fincere kindness to me; and will please myself with the thought, that I ftill live in your efteem and affection, as much as ever I did; and that no accidents of life, no diftance of time, or place, will alter you in that refpe&t. It never can me; who have lov'd and valued you, ever fince I knew you, and fhall not fail to do it when I am not allowed to tell you fo; as the cafe will foon be. Give my faithful services to Dr. Arbuthnot, and thanks for what he fent me, which was much to the purpofe, if any thing can be faid to be to the purpose, in a cafe that is already determined. Let him know my Defence will be fuch, that neither my friends need blufh for me, nor will my enemies have great occafion of triumph, tho' fure of the victory. I fhall want his advice before I go abroad, in many things. But I queftion whether I fhall be permitted to fee him, or any body, but fuch as are abfolutely neceffary towards the difpatch of my private affairs. If fo, God blefs you both; and may no part of the ill fortune that attends me, ever purfue either of you! I know not but I may call upon you at my hearing, to fay fomewhat about my way of Spending my time at the Deanry, which did not feem cal Y 2 culat 1 culated towards managing plots and confpiracies. But of that I fhall confider-You and I have spent many hours together upon much pleafanter fubjects; and, that I may preferve the old cuftom, I fhall not part with you now till I have clos'd this letter, with three lines of Milton, which you will, I know, readily and not without fome degree of concern apply to your ever affectionate, &c. Some natʼral Tears he dropt, but wip'd them foon: IT LETTER XXII, The Anfwer. April 20, 1723. T is not poffible to express what I think, and what I feel; only this, that I have thought and felt for nothing but you, for fome time paft: and fhall think of nothing fo long for the time to come. The greateft comfort I had was an intention (which I would have made practicable) to have attended you in your journey, to which I had brought that perfon to conient, who only could have hindered me, by a tye which, though it may be more tender, I do not think more ftrong, than that of friendship. But fear there will be no way left me to tell you this great truth, that I remember you,' that I love you, that I am grateful to you, that I entirely efteem and value you: no way but that one, which needs no open warrant to authorize it, or fecret conveyance to fecure it; which no bills can preclude, and no Kings prevent; a way that can reach to any part of the world where you may be, where the very whifper, or even the wifh of a friend must not be heard, or even fufpected: by this way, I dare tell my efteem and affection of you, to your enemies in the gates, and you, and they, and their fons, may hear of it. You prove yourfelf, my Lord, to know me for the friend lam; in judging that the manner of your Defence, and your Reputation by it, is a point of the highest concern to me and affuring me, it fhall be fuch, that none of your friends fhall blufh for you. Let me further prompt you to do yourself the beft and most lafting juftice: the intruments of your Fame to pofterity will be in your own hands. May it not be, that providence has appointed you to fome great and useful work, and calls you to it this fevere |