I DEAR GAY. LETTER VII. Sept. 11, 1722. Thank you for remembering me; I would do my best to forget myself, but that, I find, your idea is fo clofely connected to me, that I muft forget both together, or neither. I am forry I could not have a glympfe either of you, or of the Sun (your father) before you went for Bath: But now it pleafes me to fee him, and hear of you. Pray put Mr. Congreve in mind that he has one on this fide of the world who loves him; and that there are more men and women in the universe than Mr. Gay and my Lady Duchefs. There are ladies in and about Richmond, that pretend to value him and yourself; and one of them at least may be thought to do it without affectation, namely Mrs. Howard. Pray confult with Dr. Arbuthnot and Dr. Cheyne, to what exact pitch your belly may be fuffer'd to fwell, not to outgrow theirs, who are, yet, your betters. Tell Dr. Arbuthnot that even pigeon-pies and hogs puddings are thought dangerous by our governors; for thofe that have been fent to the Bifhop of Rochefter are open'd and prophanely pry'd into at the Tower: 'Tis the first time dead pigeons have been fufpected of carrying intelligence. To be ferious, you and Mr. Congreve and the Doctor will be fenfible of my concern and furprize at his commitment, whofe welfare is as much my concern as any friend's I have. I think myself a moft unfortunate wretch: I no fooner love, and, upon knowledge fix my efteem to any man, but he either dies like Mr. Craggs, or is fent to imprisonment, like the Bishop. God fend him as well as I with him, manifeft him to be as innocent as I believe him, and make all his enemies know him as well as I do, that they may think of him as well! If you apprehend this period to be of any danger in being addreffed to you, tell Mr. Congreve or the Doctor, it is writ to them. I am Your, &c. LETTER VIII. July 13, 1722. I Was very much pleafed, not to fay obliged, by your kind letter, which fufficiently warm'd my heart to have answered it fooner, had I not been deceived (a way one of ten ten is deceived) by hearkening to women; who told me that both Lady Burlington and yourself were immediately to return from Tunbridge, and that my Lord was gone to bring you back. The world furnishes us with too many examples of what you complain of in yours, and I affure you, none of them touch and grieve me fo much as what relates to you. I think your fentiments upon it are the very fame I fhould entertain: I wish thofe we call great men had the fame notions, but they are really the moft little creatures in the world; and the most interested, in all but one point; which is, that they want judgment to know their greatest intereft, to encourage and chufe honeft men for their friends. I have not once feen the perfon you complain of, whom I have of late thought to be, as the Apoftle admonifheth, one flesh with his wife. Pray make my fincere compliments to Lord Burlington, whom I have long known to have a ftronger bent of mind to be all that is good and honourable, than almost any one of his rank. I have not forgot yours to Lord Bolingbroke, tho' I hope to have speedily a fuller opportunity, he returning for Flanders and France next month. Mrs. Howard has writ you fomething or other in a letter, which, fhe fays, fhe repents. She has as much goodnature as if he had never feen any ill-nature, and had been bred among lambs and turtle-doves, inftead of Princes and court-ladies. By the end of this week, Mr. Fortefcue will pafs a few days with me: we fhall remember you in our potations, and wish you a fifher with us, on my grafs-plat. In the mean time we wifh you fuccefs as a fifher of women at the Wells, a rejoicer of the comfortless and widow, and a play-fellow of the maiden. I am Your, &c. I LETTER IX. Sept. 11, 1722. Think it obliging in you to defire an account of my health. The truth is, I have never been in a worfe ftate in my life, and find whatever I have try'd as a remedy fo ineffectual, that I gave myfelf intirely over. I wifh your health may be fet perfectly right by the waters; and be affured, 1 not only wifh that, and every thing else for * Instead of that they want judgment, propriety of ex reffion, requires he fhould have faid there where they want judgment. you, you, as common friends wifh, but with a zeal not usual among those we call fo. I am always glad to hear of; and from you; always glad to fee you, what ever accidents or amusements have interven'd to make me do either lefs than ufual. I not only frequently think of you, but conftantly do my best to make others do it, by mentioning you to all your acquaintance. I defire you to do the fame for me to thofe you are now with: do me what you think juftice in regard to thofe who are my friends, and if there are any, whom I have unwillingly deferved fo little of as to be my enemies, I don't defire you to forfeit their opinion, or your own judgment in any cafe. Let time convince thofe who know me not, that I am an inoffenfive perfon; tho' (to fay truth) I don't care how little I am indebted to Time, for the world is hardly worth living in, at least to one that is never to have health a week together. I have been made to expect Dr. Arbuthnot in town this fortnight, or else I had written to him. If he, by never writing to me, feems to for* get me, I confider I do the fame feemingly to him, and yet don't believe he has a more fincere friend in the world than I am therefore I will think him mine. I am his, Mr. Congreve's, and Your, &c. I LETTER X. Faithfully affure you, in the midft of that melancholy with which I have been fo long encompaffed, in an hourly expectation almoft of my Mother's death; there was no circumstance that rendered it more infupportable to me, than that I could not leave her to fee you. Your own prefent escape from fo imminent danger, I pray God may prove lefs precarious than my poor Mother's can be; whofe life at beft can be but a fhort Reprieve or a longer dying. But I fear, even that is more than God will please to grant me, for, these two days paft, her moft dangerous fymptoms are returned upon her; and unless there be a fudden change, I muft, in a few days, if not in a few hours, be deprived of her. In the afflicting profpect before me, I know nothing that can fo much alleviate it as the view now given me (Heaven grant it may increafe!) of your recovery. In the fincerity of my heart, I am exceffively concern'd not to be able to pay you, dear Gay, any part of the debt, I very gratefully remember I owe you on a like fad occafion, when you was here comforting me in her laft great illness. May your health augment as faft as I fear hers must decline: I believe that would be very faft-may the life that is added to you be paft in good fortune and tranquillity, rather of your own giving to yourself, than from any expectations or truft in others. May you and I live together without wifhing more felicity or acquifitions than Friendfhip can give and receive without obligations to Greatness, God keep you, and three or four more of those I have known as long, that I may have something worth the furviving my Mother. Adieu, dear Gay, and believe me (while you live and while I live) Your, &c. As I told you in my last letter, I repeat it in this: Do not think of writing to me. The Doctor, Mrs. Howard, and Mrs. Blount give me daily accounts of you. to me. LETTER XI. Sunday Night, I Truly rejoiced to fee your hand-writing, though I feared the trouble it might give you. I wish I had not known that you are still fo exceffively weak. Every day for a week paft I had hopes of being able in a day or two more to fee you. But my Mother advances not at all, gains no ftrength, and feems but upon the whole to wait for the next cold day to throw her into a Diarrhoea, that muft, if it return, carry her off. This being daily to be feared, makes me not dare to go a day from her, left that should prove to be her laft. God fend you a speedy recovery, and fuch a total one as, at your time of life, may be expected. You need not call the few words I writ to you either kind or good; that was, and is, nothing. But whatever I have my nature of kindness, I really have for you, and whatever good I could do, I would, among the very firft, be glad to do to you. In your circumftance the old Roman farewell is proper, Vive memor noftri. Your, &c. in I send you a very kind letter of Mr. Digby, between whom and me two letters have pafs'd concerning you. LETTER XII. No words can tell you the great concern I feel for you; I affure you it was not, and is not leffened, by the immediate apprehenfion I have now every day lain under of loofing my mother. Be affured no duty lefs than that fhould have kept me one day from attending your condition: I would come and take a room by you at Hampftead, to be with you daily, were the not ftill in danger of death. I have conftantly had particular accounts of you from the Doctor, which have not ceafed to alarm me yet, God God preferve your life, and reftore your health. I really beg it for my own fake, for I feel I love you more than I thought in health, tho' I always loved you à great deal. If I am fo unfortunate as to bury my poor mother, and yet have the good fortune to have my prayers heard for you, I hope we may live moft of our remaining days together. If, as I believe, the air of a better clime as the Southern part of France, may be thought ufeful for your recovery, thither would I go with you infallibly; and it is very probable we might get the Dean with us, who is in that abandoned ftate already in which I fhall fhortly be, as to other cares and duties. Dear Gay, be as chearful as your fufferings will permit: God is a better friend than a Court; even any honeft man is a better. I promife you my entire friendhip in all events, heartily praying for your recovery. Your, &c. Do not write, if you are ever fo able: the Doctor tells me all. I LETTER XIII. Am glad to hear of the progrefs of your recovery, and the oftener I hear it, the better, when it becomes eafy to you to give it me. I fo well remember the confolation you were to me in my Mother's former illness, that it doubles my concern at this time not to be able to be with you, or you able to be with me. Had I loft her, I would have been no where else but with you during your confinement. I have now paft five weeks without once going from home, and without any company but for three or four of the days. Friends rarely ftretch their kindness fo far as ten miles. My Lord Bolingbroke and Mr. Bethel have not forgotten to vifit me: the reft (except Mrs. Blount once) were contented to fend meffages. I never paffed fo melancholy a time, and now Mr. Congreve's death touches me nearly. It was twenty years and more that I have known him: Every year carries away fomething dear with it, till we outlive all tenderneffes, and become wretched individuals again as we begun, Adieu! This is my birth-day, and this is my reflection upon it. o'cr, With added days if life give nothing new, Your, &c. |