would be an inexpressible joy to me if I could serve you, and I will always do all I can to give myself pleasure. I wish as well for you as for myself; I am in love with you both, as much as I am with myself, for I find myself most so with either, when I least suspect it.

MADAM,

LETTER XVII.

TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT.

(Oxford, 1716.)

I AM here studying ten hours a day, but thinking of you in spite of all the learned. The Epistle of Eloisa grows warm, and begins to have some breathings of the heart in it, which may make posterity think I was in love. I can scarce find in my heart to leave out the conclusion I once intended for it.*

I am to pass three or four days in high luxury, with some company, at my Lord Burlington's. We are to walk, ride, ramble, dine, drink, and lie together. His gardens are delightful, his music ravishing; yet I shall now and then cast a thought on Charles-street.

but it is not worth transcription. The affair here mentioned in which he promises to do his utmost, was the purchase of an annuity for his fair correspondent. C.

* In vol. ii. p. 56-7, Mr. Bowles has a conjecture on the nature of Pope's "personal feelings," when he wrote the Epistle of Sappho, and his Eloisa. Perhaps the hint in this letter may afford a farther illustration.

C.

Bowles.

May you have all possible success both in your devotions this week, and your masquerade the next. Whether you repent or sin, may you do all you wish; and when you think of me, either laugh at me, or pray for me, which you please.

LETTER XVIII.

TO MRS. TERESA BLOUNT.

DEAR MADAM,

I

(1716.)

SEND you your book, and have not forgot to give commission about the lavender. I find I shall stay a little longer than I intended, my mother being so much mended by change of air, both as to her cough and her spirits, that she will meet me at Oxford, where she will see the place, and return with me.

I could be glad to know certainly, whether you will have the coach I bought, or not? that I may either dispose of it, or keep it accordingly. If your objection be to the standing, or care of it, this summer, you shall not be troubled with any thought of it till winter. Upon this, and all other such occasions, I can say but just this,-either you would have me your friend, or you would not. If you would, why do you refuse any service I can do you? If you would not, why do you ever receive any?

I have nothing to add, but to wish you all happiness, and to assure you I am, &c.

LETTER XIX.

TO THE MISS BLOUNTS.

(Oxford, 1716.)

IF my memory had not deceived me, this was the volume of Clarendon which you commanded. It is accompanied with a book which I think a very pretty one, and I believe you have never read. I cannot express the desire I have of being happy with you a few days (or nights, if you would give me leave) at Maple-Durham; where, I dare say, you relish the delights of solitude and shades, much better than I can be able to do till I see you. For, in very deed, ladies, I love you both, very sincerely and passionately, though not so romantically (perhaps) as such as you may expect, who have been used to receive more complimental letters and high flights from your own sex, than ever I am like to reach to. In earnest, I know no two things I would change you for, this hot weather, except two good melons.

I have hitherto been detained here by a doctor of Divinity,* whom I am labouring to convert from the Protestant religion; and in two days I must be at Hampton-Court, and (for all I know) at London. Upon my return, Mr. Harcourt has promised me to be here; after which, I will try if you will admit me. I am without any more non

* Dr. Clarke.

sense than I was born to; that is to say, without any ceremony, I am (I say) before the Lord, ladies, Your most faithful,

insignificant, humble servant.

LETTER XX.

TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT.

I WILL not describe Blenheim* in particular, not to forestal your expectations before you see it only take a short account, which, I will hazard my little credit, is no unjust one. I never saw so great a thing with so much littleness in it. I think the architect built it entirely in complaisance to

* As the following remarks on this palace occur only in that edition of Lord Orford's Anecdotes of Painters, which is in his works, 5 vols. 4to. 1798, and were given as his lordship's last opinion, they will probably be new to many of our readers :"Two very good judges, and men of excellent taste, Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Gilpin, have declared their admiration of the stupendous piles of Blenheim and Castle-Howard;-and no doubt vastness is very imposing at a distance; but if the design and details are defective, the merit of grandeur remains with the person who is at the expense of the fabric, not with the architect who executes his commands. St. Peter's, St. Paul's, each strikes as a magnificent whole; but they charm too when the parts are examined, nor have any superfluous weight. Large edifices might be erected from unnecessary excrescences of stone, that load the palaces above-mentioned; and, however admirable Vanburgh's structures may be in their present state of perfection, I will venture to guess that their ruins will have far greater effect, not only from their massive fragments, but from the additional piles which conjecture will supply, in order to give a meaning to the whole." C.

Bowles.

the taste of its owners; for it is the most inhospitable thing imaginable, and the most selfish: it has, like their own hearts, no room for strangers, and no reception for any person of superior quality to themselves. There are but just two apartments, for the master and mistress, below; and but two apartments above (very much inferior to them) in the whole house. When you look upon the outside, you would think it large enough for a prince ; when you see the inside, it is too little for a subject, and has not conveniency to lodge a common family. It is a house of entries and passages; among which there are three vistas through the whole, very uselessly handsome. There is what might have been a fine gallery, but spoiled by two arches towards the end of it, which take away the sight of several of the windows. There are two ordinary staircases instead of one great one. The best things within the house are the hall, which is indeed noble and well proportioned; and the cellars and offices under ground, which are the most commodious, and the best contrived of the whole. At the top of the building are several cupolas and little turrets, that have but an ill effect, and make the building look at once finical and heavy. What seems of the best taste, is that front towards the gardens, which is not yet loaded with these turrets. The two sides of the building are entirely spoiled by two monstrous bow-windows, which stand just in the middle, instead of doors: and, as if it were fatal, that some trifling littleness should every