LETTER IX.

The Bishop of ROCHESTER to Mr. POPE.

I

Sept. 27, 1721.

Am now confined to my bed-chamber, and to the matted room, wherein I am writing, feldom venturing to be carried down even into the parlour to dinner unless when company to whom I cannot excufe myself, comes, which I am not ill pleas'd to find is now very seldom. This is my cafe in the funny part of the year: what muft I expect, when

inverfum contriftat Aquarius annum?

"If these things be done in the green tree, what "fhall be done in the dry?" Excufe me for employing a sentence of Scripture on this occafion; I apply it very seriously. One thing relieves me a little under the ill profpect I have of fpending my time at the Deanry this winter; that I fhall have the opportunity of seeing you oftener; tho', I am afraid, you will have little pleasure in feeing me there. So much for my ill ftate of health, which I had not touched on, had not your friendly letter been fo full of it. One civil thing, that you say in it, made me think you had been reading Mr. Waller; and poffefs'd of that image at the end of his copy, à la malade, had you not bestow'd it on one who has no right to the least part of the character. If you had not read the verses lately, I am fure you remember them because you forget nothing.

With fuch a grace you entertain,

And look with fuch contempt on pain, &c.

I mention them not on the account of that couplet, but one that follows; which, ends with the very fame rhymes and words (appear and clear) that

the

the couplet but one after that does-and therefore in my Waller there is a various reading of the firft of these couplets; for there it runs thus,

So lightnings in a stormy air

Scorch more, than when the sky is fair.

You will fay that I am not very much in pain, nor very bufy, when I can relish these amusements, andTM you will fay true: for at present I am in both these refpects very easy.

I had not strength enough to attend Mr. Prior to his grave, elfe I would have done it, to have fhew'd his friends that I had forgot and forgiven what he wrote on me. He is buried, as he defired, at the feet of Spencer, and I will take care to make good in every respect what I faid to him when living; particularly as to the Triplet he wrote for his own Epitaph; which while we were in good terms, I promis'd him fhould never appear on his tomb while I was Dean of Westminster.

I am pleas'd to find you have so much pleasure, and (which is the foundation of it) fo much health at Lord Bathurft's: may both continue till I see you! may my Lord have as much fatisfaction in building the house, in the wood, and ufing it when built, as you have in defigning it! I cannot fend a with after him that means him more happiness, and yet, I am fure, I wish him as much as he wishes himself.

I am, &c.

LET

N

LETTER X.

From the fame.

Bromley, Oct. 15, 1721.

Otwithstanding I write this on Sunday even, to acknowledge the receipt of yours this morning: yet, I foresee, it will not reach you till Wednesday morning. And before fet of fun that day I hope to reach my winter quarters at the Deanry. I hope, did I fay? I recall that word, for it implies defire: and, God knows, that is far from being the cafe. For I never part with this place but with regret, tho' I generally keep here what Mr. Cowley calls the worft of company in the world, my own; and fee either none befide, or what is worse than none, fome of the Arrii, or Sebofi of my neighbourhood: Characters, which Tully paints fo well in one of his Epiftles, and complains of the too civil, but impertinent interruption they gave him in his retirement. Since I have named those gentlemen, and the book is not far from me, I will turn to the place, and by pointing it out to you, give you the pleafure of perufing the epiftle, which is a very agreeable one, if my memory does not fail

me.

I am furpriz'd to find that my Lord Bathurft and you are parted fo foon; he has been fick, I know, of fome late transactions; but should that fickness continue ftill in fome measure, I prophefy, it will be quite off by the beginning of November: a letter or two from his London-friends, and a furfeit of folitude will foon make him change his refolution and his quarters. I vow to you, I could live here with pleasure all the winter, and be contented with hearing no more news than the London Journal, or

fome

fome fuch trifling paper, affords me, did not the duty of my place require, abfolutely require my attendance at Westminster; where, I hope, the Prophet will now and then remember he has a bed and a candlestic. In fhort, I long to fee you, and hope you will come, if not a day, at least an hour fooner to town than you intended, in order to afford me that fatisfaction. I am now, I thank God! as well as ever I was in my life, except that I can walk fcarce at all without crutches: And I would willingly compound the matter with the gout, to be no better, could I hope to be no worfe; but that is a vain thought, I expect a new attack long before Christmas. Let me fee you therefore while I am in a condition to relifh you, before the days (and the nights) come, when I fhall (and muft) fay, I have no pleasure in them.

I will bring your small volume of Paftorals along with me, that you may not be difcouraged from lending me books, when you find me fo punctual in returning them. Shakespear fhall bear it company, and be put into your hands as clear and as fair as it came out of them, tho' you, I think, have been dabbling here and there with the text: I have had more reverence for the writer and the printer, and left every thing standing just as I found it. However, I thank you for the pleasure you have given me in putting me upon reading him once more before I die.

I believe I fhall fcarce repeat that pleasure any more, having other work to do, and other things to think of, but none that will interfere with the offices of friendship, in the exchange, of which with you, Sir, I hope to live and die

Your, &c.

P. S. Addison's works came to my hands yefterday. I cannot but think it a very odd set of inci

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dents,

*

dents, that the book should be dedicated by a dead man to ta dead man; and even that the new ‡ patron to whom Tickle chofe to infcribe his verses, fhould be dead alfo before they were published. Had I been in the Editor's place I should have been a little apprehenfive for myself, under a thought that every one who had any hand in that work was to die before the publication of it. You fee, when I am converfing with you, I know not how to give over, till the very bottom of the paper admonishes me once more to bid

you adieu !

MY LORD,

IT

LETTER XI.

Feb. 8, 1721-2.

T is fo long fince I had the pleasure of an hour with your Lordship, that I should begin to think myfelf no longer Amicus omnium horarum, but for finding myself fo in my conftant thoughts of you. In those I was with you many hours this very day, and had you (where I wish and hope one day to fee you really) in my garden at Twitnam. When I went laft to town, and was on wing for the Deanry, I heard your Lordship was gone the day before to Bromley, and there you continued till after my return hither. I fincerely wifh you whatever you wifh yourself, and all you with your friends or family. All I mean by this word or two, is just to tell you fo, till in perfon I find you as I defire, that is, find you well: eafy, refign'd, and happy you will make yourself, and (I believe) every body that converses with you; if I may judge of your power

* Mr. Addison. † Mr. Craggs. Lord Warwick.