thofe two frightening words at the close of it. * Whether that happens or not, it is fit you should have a fight of it, who, I know, will read it with fome degree of fatisfaction, as it is mine, tho' it fhould have (as it really has) nothing else to recommend it. Such as it is, Extremum hoc munus morientis habeto; for that may well be the cafe, confidering that within a few months I am entering into my feventieth year: after which, even the • healthy and the happy cannot much depend upon life, and will not, if they are wife, much defire it. Whenever I go, you will lofe a friend who loves and values you extremely, if in my circumstances I can be said to be loft to any one, when dead, more than I am already whilft living. I expected to have heard from you by Mr. Morice, and won+ dered a little that I did not; but he owns himself in a fault, for not giving you due notice of his motions. It was not amifs that you forbore writing, on a head wherein I promis'd more than I was able to perform. Difgraced men fancy fometimes, that they preserve an influence, where when they ens deavour to exert it, they foon fee their mistake. I did fo, my good friend, and acknowledge it under my hand. You founded the coaft, and found out my error, it seems, before I was aware of it; but enough on this subject.

What are they doing in England to the honour of Letters; and particularly what are you doing? Ipfe quid audes? Que circumvolitas agilis Thyma ? Do you pursue the Moral plan you marked out, and feemed fixteen months ago so intent upon ? Am

The Bishop's Name, fet to his Vindication of Bishop Smalridge, Dr. Aldrich, and himself, from the fcanda lous Reflections of Oldmixon, relating to the Publication of Lord Clarendon's Hiftory. Paris, 1731. 4to. fince re-printed in England.

P.

I to fee it perfected e'er I die, and are you to enjoy the reputation of it while you live? or do you rather chufe to leave the marks of your friendship, like the legacies of a will, to be read and enjoyed only by those who furvive you? Were I as near you as I have been, I should hope to peep into the manufcript before it was finished. But alas! there is, and will ever probably be a great deal of land and fea between us. How many books have come out of late in your parts, which you think I should be glad to peruse? Name them: The catalogue, I believe, will not coft you much trouble. They must be good ones indeed to challenge any part of my time, now I have fo little of it left. I, whe fquandered whole days heretofore, now hufband hours when the glass begins to run low, and care not to mifpend them on trifles. At the end of the Lottery of Life, our laft minutes, like tickets left in the wheel, rise in their valuation: They are not of fo much worth perhaps in themfelves as thofe which preceded, but we are apt to prize them more, and with reafon. I do fo, my dear friend, and yet think the most precious minutes of my life are well employ'd, in reading what you write. But this is a fatisfaction I cannot much hope for, and therefore muft betake myself to others lefs entertaining. Adieu! dear Sir, and forgive me engaging with one, whom you, I think, have reckoned among the heroes of the Dunciad. It was neceffary for me either to accept of his dirty Challenge, or to have fuffered in the efteem of the world by declining it.

My refpects to your Mother; I send one of thefe papers for Dean Swift, if you have an opportunity, and think it worth while to convey it. My Country at this diftance feems to me a ffrange fight, I know not how it appears to you, who are in the midst of the scene, and yourfelf a part of it; I

wifh

You may write safely to

with you would tell me. Mr. Morice, by the honeft hand that conveys this, and will return into these parts before Christmas; sketch out a rough draught of it, that I may be able to judge whether a return to it be really eligible, or whether I fhould not, like the Chemist in the bottle, upon hearing Don Quevedo's account of Spain, defire to be corked up again.

After all, I do and muft love my country, with all its faults and blemishes; even that part of the constitution which wounded me unjustly, and itfelf through my fide, fhall ever be dear to me. My laft wifh fhall be like that of father Paul, E. perpetua! and when I die at a distance from it, it will be in the fame manner as Virgil describes the expiring Peloponnefian,

Sternitur,

et dulces moriens reminifcitur Argos.

Do I ftill live in the memory of my friends, as they certainly do in mine? I have read a good many of your paper-fquabbles about me, and am glad to fee fuch free conceffions on that head, tho' made with no view of doing me a pleasure, but merely of loading another.

I

I am, &c.

LETTER XXV.

From the Bishop of ROCHESTER,

On the Death of his Daughter.

Montpelier, Nov. 20, 1729.

AM not yet Mafter enough of myself, after the late wound I have receiv'd, to open my very heart to you, and am not content with lefs

H 3

than

than that, whenever I converfe with you. My thoughts are at present vainly, but pleasingly employ'd, on what I have loft, and can never recover. I know well I ought, for that reason, to call them off to other fubjects, but hitherto I have not been able to do it. By giving them the rein a little, and fuffering them to spend their force, I hope in fome time to check and fubdue them. Multis fortunæ vulneribus perculfus, huic uni me imparem fenfi, et pene fuccubui. This is weakness, not wifdom, I own; and on that account fitter to be trusted to the bofom of a friend, where I may fafely lodge all my infirmities. As foon as my mind is in fome measure corrected and calm'd, I will endeavour to follow your advice, and turn it to fomething of use and moment; if I have still life enough left to do any thing that is worth reading and preferving. In the mean time I fhall be pleas'd to hear that you proceed in what you intend, without any fuch melancholy interruption as I have met with. Your mind is as yet unbroken by age and ill accidents, your knowledge and judgment are at the height: use them in writing fomewhat that may teach the present and future times, and if not gain equally the applause of both, may yet raise the envy of the one, and fecure the admiration of the other. Employ not your precious moments, and great talents, on little men and little things; but chufe a fubject every way worthy of you, and handle it as you can, in a manner which no-body elfe can equal or imitate. As for me, my abilities, if I ever had any, are not what they were and yet I will endeavour to recollect and employ them.

gelidus tardante fenecta

Sanguis bebet, frigentque effoeto in corpore vires. However, I should be ingrateful to this place, if I did not own that I gained upon the gout in the

fouth

fouth of France, much more than I did at Paris : tho' even there I fenfibly improved. I believe my cure had been perfected, but the earneft defire of meeting One I dearly loved, called me abruptly to Montpelier, where after continuing two months, under the cruel torture of a fad and fruitless expectation, I was forced at laft to take a long journey to Toulouse; and even there I had mifs'd the perfon I fought, had fhe not, with great spirit and courage, ventured all night up the Garonne to fee me, which the above all things defired to do before fhe died. By that means fhe was brought where I was, between seven and eight in the morning, and liv'd twenty hours afterwards, which time was not loft on either fide, but pafs'd in such a manner as gave great fatisfaction to both, and fuch as on her part, every way became her circumstances and character. For fhe had her fenfes to the very laft gafp, and exerted them to give me, in those few hours, greater marks of Duty and Love than fhe had done in all her life-time, tho' fhe had never been wanting in either. The laft words fhe faid to me were the kindeft of all; a reflection on the goodness of God, which had allow'd us in this manner to meet once more, before we parted for ever. Not many minutes after that, fhe laid herfelf on her pillow, in a fleeping posture,

placidaque ibi demum morte quievit,

Judge you, Sir, what I felt, and ftill feel on this occafion, and fpare me the trouble of defcribing it. At my Age, under my Infirmities, among utter Strangers, how shall I find out proper reliefs and fupports? I can have none, but thofe with which Reason and Religion furnish me, and thofe I lay hold on, and grasp as fast as I can. I hope that He, who laid the burthen upon me (for wife and good purposes no doubt) will enable me to bear it,