uneafy for those which he wants. And you, whofe abfence is in a manner perpetual to me, ought rather to be remembered as a good man gone, than breathed after as one living. You are taken from us here, to be laid up in a more bleffed ftate with fpirits of a higher kind: fuch I reckon his Grace and her Grace, fince their banishment from an earthly court to a heavenly one, in each other and their friends; for, I conclude, none but true friends, will confort or affociate with them afterwards. I can't but look upon myself (fo unworthy as a man of Twitnam feems, to be rank'd with fuch rectify'd and fublimated beings as you) as a feparated spirit too from Courts and courtly fopperies. But, I own, not altogether fo divested of terrene matter, nor altogether fo fpiritualized, as to be worthy admiffion to your depths of retirement and contentment. I am tugg'd back to the world and its regards too often; and no wonder, when my retreat is but ten miles from the capital. I am within ear-fhot of reports, within the vortex of lies and cenfures. I hear fometimes of the lampooners of beauty, the calumniators of virtue, the jokers at reafon and religion. I prefume these are creatures and things as unknown to you, as we of this dirty orb are to the inhabitants of the planet Jupiter; except a few fervent prayers reach you on the wings of the poft, from two or three of your zealous votaries at this diftance: as one Mrs. H. who lifts up her heart now and then to you, from the midft of the Colluvies and fink of human greatnefs at W-r; one Mrs. B. that fancies you may remember her while you liv'd in your mortal and too tranfitory ftate at Peterfham; one Lord B. who admir'd the Duchess before fhe grew a Goddess; and a few others.

:

To defcend now to tell you what are our wants, our complaints, and our miferies here; I muft feriously say, the lofs of any one good woman is too great to be borne eafily and poor Mrs. Rollinfon, tho' a private woman, was fuch. Her hufband is gone into Oxfordshire very melancholy, and thence to the Bath, to live on, for fuch is our fate, and duty. Adieu. Write to me as often as you will, and (to encourage you). I will write as feldom as if did not. Believe me you

Your, etc.

LETTER

LETTER XX.

I

DEAR SIR,

Octob. 1, 1730.

Am fomething like the fun at this feafon, withdrawing from the world, but meaning it mighty well, and refolving to fhine whenever I can again. But I fear the clouds of a long winter will overcome me to fuch a degree, that any body will take a farthing candle for a better guide, and more ferviceable companion. My friends may remember my brighter days, but will think (like the Irishman) that the moon is a better thing when once I am gone. I don't say this with any allufion to my poetical capacity as a fon of Apollo, but in my companionable one (if you'll fuffer me to ufe a phrafe of the Earl of Clarendon's), for I fhall fee or be feen of few of you this winter. I am grown too faint to do any good, or to give any pleasure. I not only, as Dryden finely fays, feel my notes decay as a poet, but feel my fpirits flag as a companion, and fhall return again to where I firft began, my books. I have been putting my library in order, and enlarging the chimney in it, with equal intention to warm my mind and body (if I can) to fome life. A friend (a woman-friend, God help me!) with whom I have spent three or four hours a day thefe fifteen years, advifed me to país more time in my ftudies: I reflected, the muft have found fome reafon for this admonition, and concluded fhe would complete all her kindneffes to me by returning me to the employment I am fitteft for; converfation with the dead, the old, and

the worm-eaten.

For as

Judge therefore if I might not treat you as a beatify'd fpirit, comparing your life with my ftupid ftate. to my living at Windfor with the ladies, etc. it is all a dream; I was there but two nights, and all the day out of that company. I fhall certainly make as little court to others as they do to me; and that will be none at all. My fair-weather friends of the fummer are going away for London, and I fhall fee them and the butterflies together, if I live till next year; which I would not defire to do, if it were only for their fakes. But we that are writers, ought to love pofterity, that pofterity may love us; and I would willingly live to fee the children of the prefent race, merely in hope they may be a little wifer than their Parents.

I am, etc.

LETTER

IT

T is true that I write to you very feldom, and have no pretence of writing which fatisfies me, because I have nothing to fay that can give you much pleafure: only merely that I am in being, which in truth is of little confequence to one from whofe converfation I am cut off by fuch accidents or engagements as feparate us. I continue, and ever fhall, to with you all good and happiness: I wish that fome lucky event might fet you in a ftate of ease and independency all at once; and that I might live to fee you as happy as this filly world and fortune can make any one. Are we never to live together more, as once we did? I find my life ebbing apace, and my affections ftrengthening as my age increafes; not that I am worfe, but better, in health than laft winter; but my mind finds no amendmy ment nor improvement, nor fupport to lean upon, from thofe about me: and fo I find myfelf leaving the world, as faft as it leaves me. Companions I have enough, friends few, and those too warm in the concerns of the world, for me to bear pace with; or elfe fo divided from me, that they are but like the dead whofe remembrance I hold in honour. Nature, temper, and habit from my youth made me have but one ftrong defire; all other ambitions, my perfon, education, conftitution, religion, etc. contpired to remove far from me. That defire was to fix and preferve a few lafting dependable friendships: and the accidents which have difappointed me in it, have put a period to all my aims. So I am funk into an idleness, which makes me neither care nor labour to be noticed by the reft of mankind; I purpofe no rewards to myfelf, and why fhould I take any fort of pains? here I fit and fleep, and probably here I fhall fleep till I fleep for ever, like the old man of Verona. I hear of what paffes in the bufy world with to little attention, that I forget it the next day and as to the learned world there is nothing paffes in it. I have no more to add, but that I am with the fame truth as ever, Your, etc.

LETTER XXII.

Oct. 23, 1730.

OUR letter is a very kind one, but I can't fay fo pleafing to me as many of yours have been, thro' the account you give of the dejection of your fpirits. I wish the

too

too conftant use of water does not contribute to it; I find Dr. Arbuthnot and another very knowing phyfician of that opinion. I also wish you were not fo totally immersed in the country; I hope your return to town will be a prevalent remedy against the evil of too much recollection. I wifh it partly for my own fake. We have lived little together of late, and we want to be phyficians for one another. It is a remedy that agreed very well with us both for many years, and I fancy our conftitutions would mend upon the old medicine of Studiorum fimilitudo, etc. I believe we both of us want whetting; there are feveral here who will do you that good office, merely for the love of wit, which feems to be bidding the town a long and laft adieu. I can tell you of not one thing worth reading, or feeing; the whole age feems refolved to juftify the Dunciad, and it may ftand for a public Epitaph or monumental Infcription like that at Thermopylae, on a whole people perif'd! There may indeed be a Wooden image or two of Poetry fet up, to preferve the memory that there once were bards in Britain and (like the Giants at Guildhall) fhew the bulk and bad tafte of our ancestors: At prefent the poor Laureat and Stephen Duck ferve for this purpofe; a drunken fot of a Parfon holds forth the emblem of Infpiration, and an honeft induftrious Thresher not unaptly reprefents Pains and Labour. I hope this Phænomenon of Wiltshire has appeared at Amesbury, or the Duchefs will be thought infenfible to all bright qualities and exalted geniufes, in court and country alike. But he is a harmless man, and therefore I am glad.

*

This is all the news talk'd of at court, but it will please you better to hear that Mrs. Howard talks of you, though not in the fame breath with the Thresher, as they do of me. By the way, 'have you feen or convers'd with Mr. Chubb, who is a wonderful Phænomenon of Wiltshire? I have read thro' his whole volume + with admiration of the writer; tho' not always with approbation of the doctrine. I have paft juft three days in London in four months, two at Windfor, half a one at Richmond, and have not taken one excurfion into any other country. Judge now

Eufden.

This was his quarto Volume, written before he had given any figns of thofe extravagances, which have fince rendered him fo famous. As the Court fet up Mr. Duck for the rival of Mr. Pope, the City at the fame time confidered Chubb, as one who would eclipfe Locke. The modefty of the court Poet kept him fober in a very intoxicating fituation, while the vanity of this newfangled Philofopher affifted his fage admirers in turning his head.

VOL. IV.

C c

whether

whether I can live in my library. Adieu. Live mindfu of one of your firft friends, who will be fo till the laft Mrs. Blount deferves your remembrance, for fhe never forgets you, and wants nothing of being a friend *.

I beg the Duke's and her Grace's acceptance of my fervices: the contentment you exprefs in their company pleafes me, tho' it be the bar to my own, in dividing you from us. I am ever very truly

STR

LETTER XXIII.

Your, etc.

O&. 2, 1732.

I

IR Clem. Cotterel tells me you will fhortly come to town. We begin to want comfort in a few friends about us, while the winds whistle, and the waters roar. The fun gives us a parting look, but 'tis a cold one; we are ready to change thofe diftant favours of a lofty beauty, for a grofs material fire that warms and comforts more. with you could be here till your family come to town; you'll live more innocently, and kill fewer harmless creatures, nay none, except by your proper deputy, the butcher. It is fit for confcience fake, that you should come to town, and that the Duchefs fhould ftay in the country, where no innocents of another fpecies may fuffer by her. I hope the never goes to church: the Duke fhould lock you both up, and lefs harm would be done. I advise you to make man your game, hunt and beat about here for coxcombs, and trufs up Rogues in Satire: I fancy they'll turn to a good account, if you can produce them fresh, or make then keep and their relations will come, and buy their bodies of you.

The death of Wilks leaves Cibber without a collegue, abfolute and perpetual dictator of the ftage, tho' indeed while he lived he was but as Bibulus to Cæfar. However, ambition finds fomething to be gratify'd with in a mere name; or elfe, God have mercy upon poor, ambition! Here is a dead vacation at prefent, no politics at court, no trade in town, nothing ftirring but poetry. Every man, and every boy, is writing verfes on the Royal Her mitage : : I hear the Queen is at a lofs which to prefer; but

Alluding to thofe lines in the Epift. on the characters of Women,

With ev'ry pleasing, every prudent part,

Say what can Cloe want?-She wants a heart."

for