poffeffed of all the pleasures of the country, and as I think of a right mind, what can I wish you but health to enjoy them? This I so heartily do, that I should be even glad to hear your good old mother might lose all her present pleasures in her unwearied care of you, by your better health convincing her it is unneceffary.

I am troubled and shall be fo, till I hear you have received this letter: for you gave me the greatest pleasure imaginable in yours, and I am impatient to acknowledge it. If I any ways deferve that friendly warmth and affection with which you write, it is, that I have a heart full of love and esteem for you. So truly, that I should lose the greatest pleasure of my life if I loft your good opinion. It rejoices me very much to be reckoned by you in the class of honeft men; for tho' I am not troubled overmuch about the opinion most may have of me, yet I own it wou'd grieve me not to be thought well of, by you and fome few others. I will not doubt my own ftrength, yet I have this further fecurity to maintain my integrity, that I cannot part with that, without forfeiting your esteem with it.

Perpetual disorder and ill health have for fome years so disguised fo me, that I fometimes fear I do not to my best friends enough appear what I really am. Sickness is a great oppreffor; it does great injury to a zealous heart, ftifling its warmth, and not suffering it to break out in action. But I hope I fhall not make this complaint much longer. I have other hopes that please me too, tho' not fo well grounded; these are, that you may yet make a journey weftward with Lord Bathurft; but of the probability of this I do not venture to reason, because I would not part with the pleasure of that belief. It grieves me to think how far I am removed from you, and from that excellent Lord, whom I love! indeed I remember him as one that has made fickness easy to me, by bearing with my infirmities in the fame manner that you have always done. I often too confider him in other lights that make

B b

him valuable to me. With him, I know not by what connection, you never fail to come into my mind, as if you were infeparable. I have as you guess, many philofophical reveries in the shades of Sir Walter Raleigh, of which you are a great part. You generally enter there with me, and like a good Genius applaud and ftrengthen all my fentiments that have Honour in them. This good office which you have often done me unknowingly, I must acknowledge now; that my own breaft may not reproach me with ingratitude, and difquiet me when I would mufe again in that folemn fcene. I have not room left to ask you many questions I intended about the Odyffey. I beg I may know how far you have carried Ulyffes on his journey, and how you have been entertained with him on the way? I defire I may hear of your health, of Mrs. Pope's, and of every thing else that belongs to you.

How thrive your garden-plants? how look the trees? how fpring the Brocoli and the Fenochio? hard names to spell! how did the poppies bloom? and how is the great room approved? what parties have you had of pleasure ? what in the grotto? what upon the Thames? I would know how all your hours pafs, all you fay, and all you do; of which I should queftion you yet farther, but my paper is full and fpares you. My brother Ned is wholly yours, fo my father defires to be, and every foul here whose name is Digby. My fifter will be yours in particular. What can I add more ? I am, &c.

Was upon

LETTER CXI.

Oct. 10.

I the point of taking a much greater journey than to

Bermudas, even to that undiscover'd country, from whose

But here you have me still

Bourn no traveller returns! I conspire in your sentiments, emulate your pleasures, wish for your company. You are all of one heart and one foul, as was faid of the primitive chriftians: 'tis like the kingdom of the just upon earth; not a wicked wretch to interrupt you, but a fett of try'd experienc'd friends, and fellow comforters, who have feen evil men and evil days, and have by a fuperior rectitude of heart fet your felves above them, and reap your reward. Why will you ever, of your own accord, end fuch a millenary year in London? and transmigrate (if I may so call it) into other creatures, in that scene of folly militant, when you may reign for ever at Hom-lacy in fenfe and reafon triumphant? I appeal to a third Lady in your family, whom I take to be the most innocent, and the leaft warp'd by idle fashion and custom, of you all; I appeal to her, if you are not every foul of you better people, better companions, and happier, where you are? I defire her opinion under her hand in your next letter: I mean Mifs Scudamore's *. I'm confident if she would, or durft speak her sense, and employ that reasoning which God has given her, to infufe more thoughtfulness into you all; thofe arguments could not fail to put you to the blush, and keep you out of town, like people fenfible of your own felicities. I am not without hopes, if the can detain a parliament-man and a lady of quality from the world one winter, that I may come upon you with such irrefiftible arguments another year, as may carry you all with me to Bermudas, † the feat of all earthly happiness, and the new Jerufalem of the righteous.

Don't talk of the decay of the year; the season is good where the people are fo: 'tis the best time of the year for a painter; there is more variety of colours in the leaves: the profpects begin to

*Afterwards Duchefs of Beaufort, at this time very young.

+ About this time the Rev. Dean Berkley conceiv'd his Project of erecting a Settlement in Bermudas for the Propagation of the Christian Faith, and Introduction of Sciences into America.

open, thro' the thinner woods over the vallies, and thro' the high canopies of trees to the higher arch of heaven: the dews of the morning impearl every thorn, and scatter diamonds on the verdant mantle of the earth; the frofts are fresh and wholfome: what wou'd you have? the Moon fhines too; tho' not for Lovers, thefe cold nights, but for Aftronomers. Have ye not reflecting Telescopes *, whereby ye may innocently magnify her spots and blemishes ? content your felves with them, and do not come to a place where your own eyes become reflecting Telescopes, and where thofe of all others are equally fuch upon their neighbours. Stay you at least (for what I've said before relates only to the ladies, don't imagine I'll write about any Eyes but theirs) stay, I fay, from that idle, bufy-looking Sanhedrin, where wisdom or no wisdom is the eternal debate, not (as it lately was in Ireland) an accidental one.

If after all, you will defpife good advice, and refolve to come to London: here you will find me, doing juft the things I should not, living where I should not, and as worldly, as idle, in a word as much an Anti-Bermudanist as any body. Dear Sir, make the ladies know I am their fervant, you know I am yours, &c.

LETTER CXII.

I

Aug. 12.

Have been above a month ftrolling about in Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire, from garden to garden, but ftill returning to Lord Cobham's with fresh fatisfaction. I fhould be forry to fee my Lady Scudamore's, till it has had the full advantage of Lord B*'s improvements; and then I will expect fomething like the

*These Inftruments were juft then brought to perfection.

waters of Riskins, and the woods of Oakley together, which (without flattery) would be at least as good as any thing in our world: For as to the hanging gardens of Babylon, the Paradise of Cyrus, and the Sharawaggi's of China, I have little or no ideas of 'em, but I dare fay Lord B* has, because they were certainly both very great, and very wild. I hope Mrs. Mary Digby is quite tired of his Lordship's Extravagante Bergerie; and that the is just now fitting, or rather reclining on a bank, fatigu'd with over-much dancing and finging at his unwearied request and instigation. I know your love of eafe fo well, that you might be in danger of being too quiet to enjoy quiet, and too philofophical to be a philofopher; were it not for the ferment Lord B* will put you into. One of his Lordship's maxims is, that a total abstinence from intemperance or business, is no more philofophy, than a total consopition of the senses is repose; one must feel enough of its contrary to have a relifh of either. But after all, let your temper work, and be as fedate and contemplative as you will, I'll engage you shall be fit for any of us, when you come to town in the winter. Folly will laugh you into all the customs of the company, here; nothing will be able to prevent your converfion to her, but indifpofition, which I hope will be far from you. I am telling the worst that can come of you; for as to vice, you are safe, but folly is many an honeft man's, nay every good humour'd man's lot: nay it is the seasoning of life; and fools (in one sense) are the falt of the earth; a little is excellent, tho' indeed a whole mouthful is justly call'd the Devil.

So much for your diverfions next winter, and for mine. I envy you much more at prefent, than I fhall then; for if there be on earth an image of paradife, it is in fuch perfect Union and Society as you all poffefs. I wou'd have my innocent envies and wishes of your state known to you all; which is far better than making you compliments, for this is inward approbation and