me know (even before I difcovered my ignorance) that she was the daughter of one in our neighbourhood, lately married, who having been confulting her phyficians in town, was returning into the country, to try what good air and a husband could do to recover her. My father, you must know, has fometimes recommended the ftudy of phyfic to me, but I never had any ambition to be a doctor till this inftant. I ventured to prefcribe fome fruit (which I happened to have in the coach) which being forbidden her by her doctors, fhe had the more inclination In fhort, I tempted, and she eat; nor was I more like the Devil than fhe like Eve. Having the good fuccefs of the aforefaid tempter before my eyes, I put on the gallantry of the old ferpent, and in fpite of my evil form accofted her with all the gaiety I was master of; which had fo good effect, that in less than an hour fhe grew pleafant, her colour returned, and fhe was pleased to say my prescription had wrought an immediate cure: In a word, I had the pleasantest journey imaginable. to. Thus far (methinks) my letter has fomething of the air of a romance, though it be true. But I hope you will look on what follows as the greatest of truths, that I think myself extremely obliged by you in all points; especially for your kind and honourable information and advice in a matter of the utmost concern to me, which I fhall ever acknowledge as the highest proof at once of your friendship, juftice, and fincerity. fincerity. At the fame time be affured, that Gentleman' we spoke of, shall never by any alteration in me discover any knowledge of his mistake; the hearty forgiving of which is the only kind of return I can poffibly make him for fo many favours: And I may derive this pleasure at least from it, that whereas I must otherwise have been a little uneafy to know my incapacity of returning his obligations, I may now, by bearing his frailty, exercise my gratitude and friendship more than himself either is, or perhaps ever will be, fenfible of. Ille meos, primus qui me fibi junxit, amores Abftulit; ille habeat fecum, fervetque fepulchro! But in one thing, I must confefs you have yourself obliged me more than any man, which is, that you have shewed me many of my faults, to which as you are the more an implacable enemy, fo much the more you are a kind friend to me. I could be proud in revenge, to find a few flips in your verses, which I read in London, and fince in the country, with more application and pleasure: The thoughts are very just, and i Mr. Wycherley.-From his laft letters to Mr. Pope, the reader may perceive fomething of a growing coldness and difguft, apparently proceeding from the liberties his young friend had taken with his verfification and compofition. Little virtue, and an exceffive affectation of being witty, joined to the common infirmities of old age, jealousy and loss of memory, are fufficient to account for the inftability of his friendship, though we were not to fuppofe (what was the fact) that our Poet had ill offices done him by those who were generally about the old man. For (as Mr. Pope rightly obferves) each ill Author is as bad a Friend. W. and you are fure not to let them fuffer by the verfification. If you would oblige me with the trust of any thing of yours, I fhould be glad to execute any commiffions you would give me concerning them. I am here fo perfectly at leisure, that nothing would be fo agreeable an entertainment to me; but if you will not afford me that, do not deny me at least the fatisfaction of your letters as long as we are abfent, you would not have him very unhappy, who is very fincerely if Your, etc. Having a vacant fpace here, I will fill it with a fhort Ode on Solitude, which I found yesterday by great accident, and which I find by the date, was written when I was not twelve years old; that you may perceive how long I have continued in my paffion for a rural life, and in the fame employments of it. Happy the man *, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, In his own ground. Whofe *The contemplating, reflecting, philofophic turn of mind, for which our Author was afterwards fo eminent, is here very confpicuous. And the purity and correctness of style are extraordinary in a youth of only twelve years old. But his verses on Silence are still more extraordinary. Whofe herd with milk, whofe fields with bread, Bleft who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years flide foft away, Quiet by day. Sound fleep by night; ftudy and ease, Thus let me live, unfeen, unknown, Tell where I lie. LETTER IX. Aug. 19, 1709. If I were to write to you as often as I think of you, my letters would be as bad as a rent-charge; but though the one be but too little for your good-nature, the other would be too much for your quiet, which is one bleffing good-nature should indispensably receive from mankind, in return for those many it gives. I have been informed of late, how much I am indebted to that quality of yours, in fpeaking well of me in my 1 my abfence; the only thing by nich you prove yourself no wit nor critic: though indeed I have often thought, that a friend will show just as much indulgence (and no more) to my faults when I am absent, as he does severity to them when I am present. To be very frank with you, Sir, I muft own, that where I received fo much civility at first, I could hardly have expected fo much fincerity afterwards. But now I have only to wish, that the last were but equal to the firft, and that as you have omitted nothing to oblige me, fo you would omit nothing to improve me. I caufed an acquaintance of mine to enquire twice of your welfare, by whom I have been informed, that you have left your fpeculative angle in the Widow's Coffee-house, and bidding adieu for fome time to all the Rehearsals, Reviews, Gazettes, etc. have marched off into Lincolnshire. Thus I find you vary your life in the Scene at least, though not in the Action; for though life for the most part, like an old play, be ftill the fame, yet now and then a new scene may make it more entertaining. As for myfelf, I would not have my life a very regular play, let it be a good merry farce, a G-d's name, and a fig for the critical unities! For the generality of men, a true modern life is like a true modern play, neither tra gedy, * Tolerable farce in the Author's own Edit. a God's nam omitted there. W. 143769A |