over other mens minds and affections, by that which you will ever have over those of

Your, &c.

PE

LETTER XII.

From the Bishop of ROCHESTER.

Feb. 26, 1721-2:

Ermit me, dear Sir, to break into your retirement, and to defire of you a complete copy of thofe Verfes on Mr. Addison *; fend me alfo your laft refolution, which shall punctually be observ'd in relation to my giving out any copy of it; for I am again follicited by another Lord, to whom I have given the fame answer as formerly. No fmall piece of your writing has been ever fought after so much: it has pleas'd every man without exception, to whom it has been read. Since you now therefore know where your real ftrength lies, I hope you will not fuffer that talent to lie unemploy'd. For my part, I should be fo glad to see you finish something of that kind, that I could be content to be a little fneer'd at in a line or fo, for the fake of the pleasure I should have in reading the reft. I have talk'd my sense of this matter to you once or twice, and now I put it under my hand, that you may fee it is my deliberate opinion. What weight that may have with you I cannot fay: but it pleases me to have an opportunity of fhewing you how well I wish you, and how true a friend I am to your fame, which I defire may grow every day, and in every kind of writing, to which you fhall please to

*An imperfect Copy was got out, very much to the Author's furprize, who never would give any.

P.

turn

turn your pen. Not but that I have fome little intereft in the propofal, as I fhall be known to have been acquainted with a man that was capable of excelling in fuch different manners, and did such honour to his country and language; and yet was not difpleas'd fometimes to read what was written by his humble fervant.

LETTER XIII.

March 14, 1721-2.

I

Was difappointed (much more than those who commonly use that phrafe on fuch occafions) in miffing you at the Deanry, where I lay folitary two nights. Indeed I truly partake in any degree of concern that affects you, and I wish every thing may fucceed as you defire in your own family, and in that which, I think, you no lefs account your own, and is no lefs your family, the whole world: for I take you to be one of the true friends of it, and to your power its protector. Tho' the noise and daily buftle for the public be now over, I dare fay, a good man is ftill tendering its welfare; as the fun in the winter, when feeming to retire from the world, is preparing benedictions and warmth for a better feafon. No man wishes your Lordship more quiet, more tranquillity, than I, who know you should understand the value of it: but I don't with you a jot lefs concern'd or less active than you are, in all fincere, and therefore warm, defires of public good.

I beg the kindness (and 'tis for that chiefly I trouble you with this letter) to favour me with notice as foon as you return to London, that I may come and make you a proper vifit of a day or two : for hitherto I have not been your Vifiter, but your

Lodger,

Lodger, and I accufe myself of it. I have now no earthly thing to oblige my being in town (a point of no small fatisfaction to me) but the best reafon, the feeing a friend. As long, my Lord, as you will let me call you so (and I dare fay you will, till I forfeit what, I think, I never fhall, my veracity and integrity) I fhall efteem myself fortunate, in fpite of the South-fea, Poetry, Popery, and Po

verty.

I can't tell you how forry I am, you should be troubled a-new by any fort of people. I heartily wifh, Quod fupereft, ut tibi viva-that you may teach me how to do the fame: who, without any real impediment to acting and living rightly, do act and live as foolishly as if I were a Great man. I am, &c.

A

LETTER XIV.

From the Bishop of ROCHESTER.

March 16, 1721-2.

Sa vifitant, a lodger, a friend (or under what other denomination foever) you are always welcome to me; and will be more fo, I hope, every day that we live: for, to tell you the truth, I like you as I like myself, beft when we have both of us least business. It has been my fate to be engaged in it much and often, by the ftations in which I was placed but God, that knows my heart, knows I never loved it: and am ftill lefs in love with it than ever, as I find less temptation to act with any hope of fuccefs. If I am good for any thing, 'tis in angulo cum libello; and yet a good part of my time has been spent, and perhaps must be spent, far otherwife. For I will never, while I have health, VOL. VIII.

G

be

be wanting to my duty in any poft, or in any respect, how little foever I may like my employment, and how hopeless foever I may be in the discharge of it.

In the mean time the judicious world is pleas'd to think that I delight in work which I am obliged to undergo, and aim at things which I from my heart defpife; let them think as they will, fo I might be at liberty to act as I will, and spend my time in fuch a manner as is moft agreeable to me. I cannot fay I do fo now, for I am here without any books, and if I had them could not use them to my fatisfaction, while my mind is taken up in a more melancholy * manner; and how long, or how little a while it may be fo taken up God only knows, and to his will I implicitly refign myself in every thing.

MY LORD,

I am, &c.

LETTER XV.

March 19, 1721-2.

Am extremely fenfible of the repeated favour of your kind letters, and your thoughts of me in abfence, even among thoughts of much nearer concern to yourself on the one hand, and of much more importance to the world on the other, which cannot but engage you at this juncture. I am very certain of your good will, and of the warmth which is in you infeparable from it.

Your remembrance of Twitenham is a fresh inftance of that partiality. I hope the advance of the fine season will fet you upon your legs, enough to enable you to get into my garden, where I will carry

*In his Lady's last Sickness.

3

P. you

you up a Mount, in a point of view to fhew you the glory of my little kingdom. If you approve it, I fhall be in danger to boaft, like Nebuchadnezzar, of the things I have made, and to be turn'd to converse, not with the beafts of the field, but with the birds of the grove, which I fhall take to be no great punishment. For indeed I heartily defpife the ways of the world, and moft of the great ones of it.

Oh keep me innocent, make others great! And you may judge how comfortably I am ftrengthen'd in this opinion, when fuch as your Lordship bear teftimony to its vanity and emptiness. Tinnit, inane eft, with the picture of one ringing on the globe with his finger, is the best thing I have the luck to remember in that great Poet Quarles (not that I forget the Devil at bowls; which I know to be your Lordship's favourite cut, as well as favourite diverfion.)

The fituation here is pleasant, and the view rural enough, to humour the most retired, and agree with the moft contemplative. Good air, folitary groves, and fparing diet, fufficient to make you fancy yourfelf (what you are in temperance, tho' elevated into a greater figure by your ftation) one of the Fathers of the Defert. Here you may think (to ufe an author's words, whom you fo juftly prefer to all his followers that you'll receive them kindly, tho' taken from his worft work *)

That in Eliah's banquet you partake,

Or fit a guest with Daniel, at his Pulfe.

I am fincerely free with you, as you defire I fhould, and approve of your not having your coach

The Paradife Regain'd. I suppose this was in compliment to the Bishop. It could hardly be his own opinion.