I am pleased with the thoughts of feeing nothing but a general good humour when I come up to town; I rejoice in the universal riches I hear of, in the thought of their having this effect. They tell me you was foon content; and that you cared not for fuch an increase as others wifhed you. By this account I judge you the richest man in the Southfea, and congratulate you accordingly. I can with you only an increase of health, for of riches and fame you have enough.

Your, &c.

Y

LETTER. VII.

July 20, 1720.

OUR kind defire to know the state of my health had not been unfatisfied fo long, had not that ill state been the impediment. Nor should I have feem'd an unconcerned party in the joys of your family, which I heard of from lady Scudamore, whose fhort Eschantillon of a letter (of a quarter of a page) I value as the fhort glympfe of a vifion afforded to fome devout hermit; for it includes (as thofe revelations do) a promise of a better life in the Elyfian groves of Cirencester, whither, I could fay almoft in the ftyle of a fermon, the Lord bring us all, &c. Thither may we tend, by various ways, to one blissful bower: thither may health, peace, and good humour wait upon us as affociates: thither may whole cargoes of nectar (liquor of life and longevity!) by mortals call'd fpawwater, be convey'd; and there (as Milton has it) may we, like the deities,

On flow'rs repos'd, and with fresh garlands crown'd, Quaff immortality and joy.

When I speak of garlands, I fhould not forget the green vestments and scarfs which your fifters promis d to make for this purpose: I expect you toa in green, with a hunting-horn by your fide and a green hat, the model of which you may take from Ofborne's defcription of King James the first.

What words, what numbers, what oratory, or what poetry, can fuffice, to exprefs how infinitely I esteem, value, love, and defire you all, above all the great ones of this part of the world; above all the Jews, jobbers, bubblers, fubfcribers, projectors, directors, governors, treasurers, &c. &c. &c. in facula fæculorum.

Turn your eyes and attention from this miferable mercenary period; and turn yourself, in a just contempt of thefe fons of Mammon, to the contemplation of books, gardens, and marriage: in which I now leave you, and return (wretch that I am!) to water-gruel and Palladio. I am, &c.

LETTER VIII.

From Mr. DIGBY.

Sherburne, July 30.

I dear one

Golden-age, for fure this must be such, in which money is fhowered down in fuch abundance upon us. Í hope this overflowing will produce great and good fruits, and bring back the figurative moral golden-age to us. I have fome omens to induce me to believe it may; for when the Mufes delight to be near a Court, when I find you frequently with a Firft-minifter, I can't but expect from fuch an inti macy an encouragement, and revival of the polite arts. I know, you defire to bring them into ho

nour,

nour, above the golden Image which is fet up and worshiped, and, if you cannot effect it, adieu to all fuch hopes. You seem to intimate in yours another face of things from this inundation of wealth, as if beauty, wit, and valour would no more engage our paffions in the pleasurable purfuit of them, tho' affifted by this encrease: if so, and if monsters only as various as thofe of Nile arife from this abundance, who that has any spleen about him will not hafte to town to laugh? What will become of the play-house who will go thither, while there is fuck entertainment in the ftreets? I hope we shall neither want good Satire nor Comedy; if we do, the age may well be thought barren of genius's, for none has ever produced better fubjects.

Your, &c.

LETTER IX.

From Mr. DIBGY.

Coleshill, Nov. 12, 1720.

Find in my heart that I have a taint of the corrupt age we live in. I want the public Spirit so much admired in old Rome, of facrificing every thing that is dear to us to the common-wealth. I even feel a more intimate concern for my friends who have fuffered in the S. Sea, than for the public, which is faid to be undone by it. But, I hope, the reafon is, that I do not fee fo evidently the ruin of the public to be a confequence of it, as I do the loss of my friends. I fear there are few befides yourself that will be perfuaded by old Hefiod, that half is more than the whale. I know not whether I do not

rejoyce

rejoyce in your Sufferings; fince they have fhewn me your mind is principled with such a sentiment, I affure you I expect from it a performance greater ftill than Homer. I have an extreme joy from your communicating to me this affection of your mind;

Quid voveat dulci Nutricula majus álumno ?

Believe me, dear Sir, no equipage could fhew you to my eye in fo much fplendor. I would not indulge this fit of philosophy fo far as to be tedious to you, elfe I could profecute it with pleasure.

I long to fee you, your Mother, and your Villa; till then I will fay nothing of Lord Bathurst's wood, which I faw in my return hither. Soon after Chriftmas I defign for London, where I fhall mifs Lady Scudamore very much, who intends to stay in the country all winter. I am angry with her, as I am like to fuffer by this refolution, and would fain blame her, but cannot find a cause. The man is curfed that has a longer letter than this to write with as bad a pen, yet I can use it with pleasure to fend my services to your good mother, and to write myself

Your, &c.

LETTER X.

Sept. 1, 1722.

Octor Arbuthnot is going to Bath, and will stay there a fortnight or more: perhaps you would be comforted to have a fight of him, whether you need him or not. I think him as good a Doctor as any man for one that is ill, and a better Doctor for one that is well. He would do admirably for

*See Note on v. 139. of the fecond Satire, ii. Book of Horace.

Mrs.

Mrs. Mary Digby: fhe needed only to follow his hints, to be in eternal bufinefs and amufement of mind, and even as active as fhe could defire. But indeed I fear fhe would out-walk him; for (as Dean Swift obferved to me the very first time I saw the Doctor) "He is a man that can do every thing but "walk." His brother, who is lately come into England, goes alfo to the Bath; and is a more extraordinary man than he, worth your going thither on purpofe to know him. The fpirit of Philanthropy, fo long dead to our world, is revived in him: he is a philofopher all of fire; fo warmly, nay fo wildly in the right, that he forces all others about him to be fo too, and draws them into his own Vortex. He is a ftar that looks as if it were all fire, but is all benignity, all gentle and beneficial influence. If there be other men in the world that would serve a friend, yet he is the only one, I believe, that could make even an enemy serve a friend.

As all human life is chequered and mixed with acquifitions and loffes (tho' the latter are more certain and irremediable, than the former lafting or fatisfactory) fo at the time I have gained the acquaintance of one worthy man I have loft another, a very eafy, humane, and gentlemanly neighbour, Mr. Stonor. 'Tis certain the lofs of one of this character puts us naturally upon fetting a greater value on the few that are left, tho' the degree of our ef teem may be different. Nothing, fays Seneca, is fo melancholy a circumftance in human life, or fo foon reconciles us to the thought of our own death, as the reflection and profpect of one friend after another dropping round us! Who would stand alone, the fole remaining ruin, the laft tottering column of all the fabric of friendship; once fo large, feemingly fo ftrong, and yet fo fuddenly funk and buried? I am, &c.

LETTER