LETTER XI. Feb. 8, 1721-2. MY LORD, you. IT Your, &c. LETTER XII. From the Bishop of ROCHESTER. Feb. 26, 1721-2. ment, and to defire of you a complete copy of those verfes on Mr. Addifon *; fend me alfo your last reso lution, which fhall punctually be obferved in relation to my giving out any copy of it; for I am again folicited: by another Lord, to whom I have given the fame anfwer as formerly. No fmall piece of your writing, has been ever fought after fo much: it has pleafed every * An imperfect copy was got out, very much to the author's fuprife, who never could give any. man, man, without exception, to whom it has been read. Since you now therefore know where your real ftrength lies, I hope you will not fuffer that talent to lie unemployed. For my part, I fhould be fo glad to fee you finith fomething of that kind, that I could be content to be a little fneered at in a line or fo, for the fake of the pleasure I fhould have in reading the reft. I have talked my fenfe of this matter to you once or twice; and now I put it under my hand, that you may fee it is my deliberate opinion. What weight that may have with you, I cannot fay but it pleafes me to have an opportunity of fhowing you how well I wifh you, and how true a friend I am to your fame; which I defire may grow every day, and in every kind of writing, to which you fhall pleafe to turn your pen. Not but that I have fome little intereft in the propofal, as I fhall be known to have been acquainted with a man that was capable of excelling in fuch different manners, and did fuch honour to his country and language; and yet was not difpleafed fometimes to read what was written by, his humble fervant. : LETTER XIII. March 14, 1721-2. WAS difappointed (much more than thofe who commonly ufe that phrafe on fuch occafions) in miffing you at the Deanry, where I lay folitary twonights. Indeed I truly partake in any degree of concern that affects you; and I with every thing may fucceed as you defire in your own family, and in that which, I think, you no lefs account your own, and is no lefs your family, the whole world: for I take you to be one of the true friends of it, and, to your power, its protector. Though the noife and daily buftle for the public be now over, I dare fay, a good man is fill tendering its welfare; as the fun in the Winter, when feeming to retire from the world; is preparing benedictions and warmth for a better feafon. feafon. No man wishes your Lordship more quiet, more tranquillity, than I, who know you should understand the value of it but I do not wish you a jot lefs concerned or lefs active than you are in all fincere, and therefore warm, defires of public good. : I beg the kindness (and it is for that chiefly I trouble you with this letter) to favour me with notice as foon as you return to London, that I may come and make you a proper vifit of a day or two: for hitherto I have not been your visitor, but your lodger, and I accufe myself of it. I have now no earthly thing to oblige my being in town, (a point of no small fatisfaction to me), but the beft reafon, the feeing a friend. As long, my Lord, as you will let me call you fo, (and I dare fay you will, till I forfeit what, I think, I never fhall, my veracity and integrity), I fhall efteem myself fortunate, in fpite of the South fea, Poetry, Popery, and Poverty. I cannot tell you how forry I am, you should be troubled a new by any fort of people. I heartily with, Quod fupereft, ut tibi vivas;—that you may teach me how to do the fame; who, without any real impediment to acting and living rightly, do act and live as foolishly as if I were a great man. A LETTER XIV. I am, &c. From the Bishop of ROCHESTER. March 16, 1721-2. Sa vifitant, a lodger, a friend, (or under what other denomination foever), you are always welcome to me; and will be more fo, I hope, every day that we live for, to tell you the truth, I like you as I like myself, beft when we have both of us leaft bufinefs. It has been my fate to be engaged in it much and often, by the stations in which I was placed: but God, that knows my heart, knows I never loved it; and 1 and am ftill lefs in love with it than ever, as I find lefs temptation to act with any hope of fuccefs. If I am good for any thing, it is in angulo cum libello; and yet a good part of my time has been spent, and perhaps must be spent, far otherwise. For I will never, while I have health, be wanting to my duty in my post, or in any refpect, how little foever I may like my employment, and how hopeless foever I may be in the difcharge of it. In the mean time, the judicious world is pleased to think that I delight in work which I am obliged to undergo, and aim at things which I from my heart defpife: let them think as they will, fo I might be at li, berty to act as I will, and spend my time in fuch a manner as is moft agreeable to me. I cannot fay I do fo now; for I am here without any books, and if I had them, could not ufe them to my fatisfaction, while my mind is taken up in a more melancholy manner and how long or how little a while it may be fo taken up, God only knows; and to his will I implicitly refign myself in every thing. LETTER MY LORD, I am, &c. XV.. March 19, 1721-2. ** : I AM extremely fenfible of the repeated favour of your kind letters, and your thoughts of me in abfence, even among thoughts of much nearer concern to yourself on the one hand, and of much more importance to the world on the other, which cannot but engage you at this juncture. I am very certain of your good will, and of the warmth which is in you infeparable from it. Your remembrance of Twitenham is a fresh instance of that partiality. I hope the advance of the fine feafon will fet you upon your legs, enough to enable you to get into my garden, where I will carry you up In his lady's last sickness, a mount, a mount, in a point of view to fhew you the glory of my little kingdom. If you approve it, I fhall be in danger to boat, like Nebuchadnezzar, of the things I have made, and to be turned to converfe, not with the beafts of the field, but with the birds of the grove, which I fhall take to be no great punishment. For indeed I heartily defpife the ways of the world, and most of the great ones of it. Oh keep me innocent, make others great! And you may judge how comfortably I am ftrengthened in this opinion, when fuch as your Lordship bear teftimony to its vanity and emptinefs. Tinnit inane eft, with the picture of one ringing on the globe with his finger, is the beft thing I have the luck to remember in that great poet Quarles, (not that I forget the devil at bowls; which I know to be your Lordship's favourite cut, as well as favourite diverfion.) The fituation here is pleasant, and the view rural enough, to humour the most retired, and agree with the most contemplative. Good air, folitary groves, and fparing diet, fufficient to make you fancy yourfelf (what you are in temperance, though elevated into a greater figure by your ftation) one of the fathers of the defart. Here you may think, (to ufe an author's words, whom you fo justly prefer to all his followers, that you will receive them kindly, though taken from his worst work *), That in Eliah's banquet you partake, Or fit a guest with Daniel, at his pulfe. I am fincerely free with you, as you defire I should, and approve of your not having your coach here; for if you would fee Lord C** or any body elfe, I have another chariot, befides that little one you laughed at when you compared me to Homer in a nut-fhell; but if you would be entirely private, nobody fhall know any thing of the matter. Believe me, (my Lord), The Paradife Regain'd. Suppofed to be in compliment to the Bishop, it could never be his own opinion. no |