You can't conceive how much you would find resolution rise, and chearfulness grow upon you, if you'd once try to live independent for two or three months. I never think tenderly of you but this comes across me, and therefore excufe my repeating it, for whenever I do not, I diffemble half that I think of you: Adieu, pray write, and be particular about your health.

Yo

LETTER CLXIX,

To

Our letter dated at nine a clock on Tuesday (night as I suppose) has funk me quite. Yesterday I hoped ; and yesterday I sent you a line or two for our poor friend Gay, inclos'd in a few words to you; about twelve or one a clock you fhould have had it. I am troubled about that, tho' the prefent cause of our trouble be fo much greater. + Indeed I want a friend, to help me to bear it better. We want each other. I bear a hearty share with Mrs. Howard, who has loft a man of a moft honeft heart: fo honeft an one, that I wish her Mafter had none lefs honest about him. The world after all is a little pitiful thing; not performing any one promise it makes us, for the future, and every day taking away and annulling the joys of the past. Let us comfort one another, and if poffible, ftudy to add as much more friendship to each other, as death has depriv'd us of in him: I promise you more and more of mine, which will be the way to deferve more and more of yours.

I purposely avoid faying more. The subject is beyond writing upon, beyond cure or eafe by reafon or reflection, beyond all but one thought, that it is the will of God.

† Mr. Gay dyed Nov. 1732, at the Duke of Queensberry's house in London, aged 46.

So will the death of my Mother be! which now I tremble at, now refign to, now bring close to me, now fet farther off: Every day alters, turns me about, and confufes my whole frame of mind. Her dangerous diftemper is again return'd, her fever coming onward again, tho' lefs in pain; for which last however

I thank God.

I am unfeignedly tired of the world, and receive nothing to be call'd a pleasure in it, equivalent to countervail either the death of one I have so long lived with, or the loss of one I have fo long lived for. I have nothing left but to turn my thoughts to one comfort; the last we usually think of, tho' the only one we should in wisdom depend upon, in fuch a difappointing place as this. I fit in her room, and she is always prefent before me, but when I fleep. I wonder I am fo well: I have fhed many tears, but now I weep at nothing. I would above all things fee you, and think it would comfort you to fee me fo equal-temper'd and fo quiet. But pray dine here: you may, and she know nothing of it; for fhe dozes much, and we tell her of no earthly thing left it run in her mind, which often trifles have done. If Mr. Bethel had time, I wish he were your companion hither. Be as much as you can with each other: Be affur'd I love you both, and be farther affur'd, that friendship will encrease as I live on.

LETTERS

то

HUGH BETHEL, Esq; &c.

From 1723 to 1735.

LETTER CLXX.

July 12, 1723.

I

Affure you unfeignedly, any memorial of your good-nature and friendliness is most welcome to me, who know those tenders of affection from you, are not like the common traffick of complements and professions, which most people only give that they may receive; and is at best a commerce of Vanity, if not of Falsehood. I am happy in not immediately wanting the fort of good offices you offer: but if I did want 'em, I fhou'd not think my self unhappy in receiving 'em at your hands: this really is fome complement, for I would rather moft men did me a small injury, than a kindness. I know your humanity, and allow me

to fay, I love and value you for it: 'Tis a much better ground of love and value, than all the qualities I fee the world fo fond of: They generally admire in the wrong place, and generally most admire the things they don't comprehend, or the things they can never be the better for. Very few can receive pleasure or advantage from wit which they feldom tafte, or learning which they feldom understand: much lefs from the quality, high birth, or shining circumstances of those to whom they profess esteem, and who will always remember how much they are their Inferiors. But Humanity and fociable virtues are what every creature wants every day, and still wants more the longer he lives, and most the very moment he dies. It is ill travelling either in a Ditch or on a Terras; we should walk in the common way, where others are continually paffing on the fame level, to make the journey of life supportable by bearing one another company in the fame circumstances.-- Let me know how I may convey over the Odyffes for your amusement in your journey, that you may compare your own travels with thofe of Ulyffes: I am fure yours are undertaken upon a more difinterested, and therefore a more heroic motive. Far be the omen from you, of returning as he did, alone, without faving a friend.

There is lately printed a book wherein all human virtue is reduced to one teft, that of Truth, and branch'd out in every inftance of our duty to God and man. If you have not seen it, you muft, and I will fend it together with the Odyffey. The very women read it, and pretend to be charm'd with that beauty which they generally think the least of. They make as much ado about Truth, fince this book appear'd, as they did about Health when Dr. Cheyne's came out; and will doubtless be as constant in the pursuit of one, as of the other. Adieu.

LET

I

LETTER CLXXI.

Aug. 9, 1726. Never am unmindful of those I think fo well of as your self; their number is not fo great as to confound one's memory. Nor ought you to decline writing to me, upon an imagination that I am much employ'd by other people. For tho' my house is like the house of a Patriarch of old, ftanding by the high-way fide and receiving all travellers, nevertheless I feldom go to bed without the reflection, that one's chief business is to be really at home and I agree with you in your opinion of company, amusements, and all the filly things which mankind wou'd fain make pleasures of, when in truth they are labour and forrow.

I condole with you on the death of your Relation, the E. of C. as on the fate of a mortal man: Efteem I never had for him, but concern and humanity I had: the latter was due to the infirmity of his last period, tho' the former was not due to the triumphant and vain part of his courfe. He certainly knew himself best at laft, and knew beft the little value of others, whofe neglect of him whom they fo grofsly follow'd and flatter'd in the former fcene of his life, fhew'd them as worthlefs as they cou'd imagine him to be, were he all that his worst enemies believ'd of him. For my own part, I am forry for his death, and wifh he had lived long enough to fee so much of the faithlefsnefs of the world, as to have been above the mad ambition of governing fuch wretches as he must have found it to be compos'd of.

Tho' you cou'd have no great value for this Great Man, yet acquaintance itself, the custom of seeing the face, or entring under the roof, of one that walks along with us in the common way of the world, is enough to create a wifh at leaft for his being above ground, and a degree of uneafinefs at his removal. 'Tis the lofs