wifh at least for his being above ground, and a degree of uneafiness at his removal. 'Tis the lofs of an object familiar to us: I fhould hardly care to have an old poft pull'd up, that I remember'd ever fince I was a child. And add to this the reflection (in the cafe of fuch as were not the beft of their Species) what their condition in another life may be, it is yet a more important motive for our concern and compaffion. To fay the truth, either in the case of death or life, almost every body and every thing is a caufe or object for humanity, even profperity itself, and health itfelf; fo many weak pitiful incidentals attend on them.

I am forry any relation of yours is ill, whoever it be, for you don't name the perfon. But I conclude it is one of thofe to whofe houses, you tell me, you are going, for I know no invitation with you is fo ftrong as when any one is in distress, or in want of your affiftance: The strongest proof in the world of this, was your attendance on the late Earl.

I have been very melancholy for the lofs of Mr. Blount. Whoever has any portion of good-nature will fuffer on thefe occafions; but a good mind rewards its own fufferings. I hope to trouble you as little as poffible, if it be my fate to go before you. I am of old Ennius's mind, Nemo me decoret lachrymis-I am but a Lodger here: this is not an abiding city, I am only to ftay out my leafe for what has Perpetuity and mortal man to do with each other?" But I could be glad you would take up with an Inn at Twittenham, as long as I am Hoft of it if not, I would take up freely with any Inn of yours.-Adieu, dear Sir: Let us while away this life: and (if we can) meet in an

other.

You

LETTER XXXI.

To the fame.

June 24, 1727.

OU are too humane and confiderate (things few peo. ple can be charged with.) Do not fay you will not expect letters from me; upon my word I can no more forbear writing fometimes to you, than thinking of you. I know the world too well, not to value you who are an example of acting, living, and thinking, above it, and contrary to it.

I thank God for my Mother's unexpected recovery,

tho'

or

tho' my hope can rife no higher than from reprieve to reprieve, the fmall addition of a few days to the many fhe has already feen. Yet fo fhort and tranfitory as this light is, it is all I have to warm or fhine upon me; and when it is out, there is nothing elfe that will live for me, or confume itfelf in my fervice. But I would have you think this is not the chief motive of my concern about her: Gratitude is a cheap virtue, one may pay it very punctually, for it cofts us nothing, but our memory of the good done. And I owe her more good, than ever I can pay, fhe at this age receive, if I could. I do not think the tranquillity of the mind ought to be disturbed for many things in this world: but thofe offices that are necessary duties either to our friends or ourselves, will hardly prove any breach of it; and as much as they take away from our indolence and eafe of body, will contribute to our peace and quiet of mind by the content they give. They often afford the highest pleasure; and those who do not feel that, will hardly ever find another to match it, let them love themselves ever fo dearly. At the fame time it must be own'd, one meets with cruel difappointments in feeing fo often the best endeavours ineffectnal to make others happy, and very often, (what is moft cruel of all) thro' their own means. But ftill I affirm, thofe very difappointments of a virtuous man are greater pleasures than the utmost gratifications and fucceffes of a mere self-lover.

The great and fudden event which has juft now happened §, puts the whole world (I mean this whole world) into a new ftate: The only ufe I have, fhall, or wifh to make of it, is to obferve the disparity of men from themselves in a week's time; the defultory leaping and catching of new motions, new modes, new meafures: and that ftrange fpirit and life, with which men broken and disappointed refume their hopes, their folicitations, their ambitions! It would be worth your while as a Philofopher, to be busy in these observations, and to come hither to see the fury and bustle of the Bees this hot feafon, without coming fo near as to be stung by them.

*See Letter XXVII, from Cirencester.

1727.

Your, etc.

The death of K. Gorge the First, which happened the 11th of June,

LETTER

LETTER XXXII.

To the fame

June 17, 1728.

After the publishing of my Boyish Letters to Mr.Cromwell, you will not wonder if I fhould forfwear writing a letter again while I live; fince I do not correfpond with a friend upon the terms of any other free subject of this kingdom. But to you I can never be filent or referved; and, I am fure, my opinion of your heart is fuch, that I could open mine to you in no manner which I could fear the whole world fhould know. I could publifh my own heart too, I will venture to fay, for any mischief or malice there is in it: but a little too much folly or weakness might, (1 fear) appear, to make fuch a spectacle either infructive or agreeable to others.

I am reduced to beg of all my acquaintance to secure me from the like ufage for the future, by returning me any letters of mine which they may have preferved; that I may not be hurt, after my death, by that which was the hap pinefs of my life, their partiality and affection to me.

I have nothing of myfelf to tell you, only that I have had but indifferent health. I have not made a vifit to London: Curiofity and the love of Diffipation die apace in me. I am not glad nor forry for it, but I am very forry for those who have nothing elfe to live on.

I have read much, but writ no more. I have fmall hopes of doing good, no vanity in writing, and little ambition to please a world not very candid or deferving. If I can preferve the good opinion of a few friends, it is all I can expect, confidering how little good I can do even to them to merit it. Few people have your candour, or are fo willing to think well of another from whom they receive no benefit, and gratify no vanity. But of all the foft senfations, the greatest pleasure is to give and receive mutual Truft. It is by Belief and firm Hope, that men are made happy in this life, as well as in the other. My confidence in your good opinion, and dependance upon that of one or two more, is the chief cordial drop I, tafte, amidst the Infipid, the Disagreeable, the Cloying, or the Dead-sweet, which are the common draughts of life. Some pleasures are too pert, as well as others too flat, to be relifh'd long : and vivacity in fome cafes is worse than dulnefs. Therefore indeed for many years I have not chofen my companions for any of the qualities in fashion, but almoft entirely for that which is most out-of-fashion, fincerity. Before

I am aware of it, I am making your panegyric, and perhaps my own too, for next to poffeffing the best of qualities is the efteeming and diftinguishing thofe who poffefs it. I truly love and value you, and so I stop short.

I

To the Earl of PETERBOROW.

MY LORD,

Aug. 24, 1728. Prefume you may before this time be returned, from the contemplation of many Beauties, animal and vegetable, in Gardens; and poffibly fome rational, in Ladies; to the better enjoyment of your own at BevisMount. I hope, and believe, all you have feen will only contribute to it. I am not fo fond of making compliments to Ladies as I was twenty years ago, or I would say there are fome very reasonable, and one in particular there. I think you happy, my Lord, in being at least half the year almost as much your own mafter as I am mine the whole year and with all the difadvantageous incumbrances of quality, parts, and honour, as mere a gardener, loiterer, and labourer, as he who never had Titles, or from whom they are taken. I have an eye in the laft of thefe glorious appellations to the ftyle of a Lord degraded or attainted: methinks they give him a better title than they deprive him of, in calling him Labourer: Agricultura, fays Tully, proxima Sapientiae, which is more than can be faid by most modern Nobility, of Grace or Right Honourable, which are often proxima Stultitiae. The Great Turk, you know, is often a Gardener, or of a meaner trade and are there not (my Lord) fome circumftances in which you would refemble the Great Turk? The two Paradifes are not ill connected, of Gardens and Gallantry; and fome there are (not to name my Lord B.) who pretend they are both to be had, even in this life, without turning Muffelmen.

We have as little politics here within a few miles of the Court (nay perhaps at the Court) as you at Southampton; and our Minifters, I dare fay, have lefs to do. Our weekly hiftories are only full of the feafts given to the Queen and Royal Family by their fervants, and the long and laborious walks her Majefty takes every morning. Yet if the graver Hiftorians hereafter fhall be filent of this

year's

year's events, the amorous and anecdotical may make pofterity fome amends, by being furnifhed with the gallantries of the Great at home; and 'tis fome comfort, that if the Men of the next age do not read of us, the Women may. From the time you have been abfent, I've not been to wait on a certain great man, thro' modefty, thro' idleness, and thro' refpe&t. But for my comfort I fancy, that any great man will as foon forget one that does him no harm, as he can one that has done him any good. Believe me, my Lord, yours.

From the Earl of PETER Borow.

1 Muft confefs that in going to Lord Cobham's, I was not led by curiofity. I went thither to fee what I had feen, and what I was fure to like.

I had the idea of those gardens fo fix'd in my imagination by many defcriptions, that nothing furprized me; Immenfity and Van Brugh appear in the whole, and in every part. Your joining in your letter animal and vegetable beauty, makes me ufe this expreffion: I confefs the ftately Sachariffa at Stow, but am content with my little Amoret.

I thought you indeed more knowing upon the fubject, and wonder at your mistake; why will you imagine women infenfible to Praite, much lefs to yours? I have feen them more than once turn from their Lover to their Flatterer. I am fure the Farmerefs at Bevis in her higheft mortifications, in the middle of her Lent *, would feel emotions of vanity, if the knew you gave her the character of a reafonable woman.

You have been guilty again of another miftake, which hinder'd me fhewing your letter to a friend: when you join two ladies in the fame compliment, tho' you gave to both the beauty of Venus, and the wit of Minerva, you would please neither.

If you had put me into the Dunciad, I could not have been more difpofed to criticife your letter. What, Sir, do you bring it in as a reproach, or as a thing uncommon to a Court, to be without politics? With politics indeed the Richlieu's and fuch folks have brought about great things in former days; but what are they, Sir, who, without policy, in our times, can make ten Treaties in a year, and fecure everlasting Peace ?

* The Countess of Peterborow, a Roman-catholis. VOL. IV.

E

I can