happiness, than can be found in fuch a family. The reft of my acquaintance are tolerably happy in their various ways of life, whether court, country, or town; and Mr Cleland is as well in the Park, as if he were in Paradife. I heartily hope, Yorkshire is the fame to and that no evil, moral or physical, may come near you.

you;

I have now but too much melancholy leifure, and no other care but to finish my Effay on Man: There will be in it one line that may offend you (1 fear), and yet I will not alter or omit it, unless you come to town and prevent me before I print it, which will be in a fortnight in all probability. In plain truth, I will not deny myself the greatest pleasure I am capable of receiving, because another may have the modesty not to share it. It is all a poor poet can do, to bear testimony to the virtue he cannot reach: befides, that, in this age, I fee too few good Examples not to lay hold on any I can find. You fee what an interested man I Adieu.

am.

LETTER XLVI.

Το

Sept. 7. 1733.

YOU cannot think how melancholy this place

Ymakes me; every part of this wood puts into

my mind

poor

Mr Gay, with whom I paft once a great deal of pleasant time in it, and another friend who is

* Mrs B.

near dead, and quite loft to us, Dr Swift. I really can find no enjoyment in the place; the fame fort of uneafinefs as I find at Twit'nam, whenever I pass near my Mother's room.

I think I fhould, but answer the character besides, my eyes grow

I've not yet writ to Mrs *. have nothing to fay that will they confider me in, as a Wit: very bad (whatever is the cause of it) I'll put them out for nobody but a friend; and, I protest, it brings tears into them almoft to write to you, when I think of your state and mine. I long to write to Swift, but cannot. The greatest pain I know, is to say things. fo very short of one's meaning, when the heart is full.

I feel the going out of life fast enough, to have lit tle appetite left to make compliments, at best useless, and for the most part unfelt, fpeeches. 'Tis but in a very narrow circle that Friendship walks in this world, and I care not to tread out of it more than I needs muft; knowing well, it is but to two or three (if quite fo many) that any man's welfare, or memory, can be of confequence: The reft, I believe, I may forget, and be pretty certain they are already even, if not before-hand with me.

Life, after the first warm heats are over, is all downhill: and one almost wishes the journey's end, provided we were fure but to lie down eafy, whenever the Night fhall overtake us.

I dream'd all last night of. She has dwelt (a little more than perhaps is right) upon my fpirits: I faw a very deferving gentleman in my travels, who

has formerly, I have heard, had much the fame misfortune; and (with all his good-breeding and sense) still bears a cloud and melancholy caft, that never can quite clear up, in all his behaviour and converfation. I know another, who, I believe, could promise, and eafily keep his word, never to laugh in his life. But one must do one's best, not to be used by the world as that poor lady was by her sister; and not feem too good, for the fear of being thought affected, or whimsical.

It is a real truth, that to the last of my moments, the thought of you, and the best of my wishes for you, will attend you, told or untold: I could wish you had once the conftancy and resolution to act for yourfelf, whether before, or after I leave you (the only way I ever fhall leave you) you muit determine; but reflect, that the first would make me, as well as yourfelf, happier; the latter could make you only fo.

Adieu.

I

LETTER XLVII.

From Dr ARBUTH NOT.

Hampstead, July 17. 1734.

Little doubt of your kind concern for me, nor of

that of the Lady you mention. I have nothing to repay my friends with at present, but prayers and good wishes. I have the satisfaction to find that I am as officiously serv'd by my friends, as he that has thoufands to leave in legacies; befides the affurance of their fincerity. God almighty has made my bodily distress

as eafy as a thing of that nature can be. I have found fome relief, at leaft fome times, from the air of this place. My nights are bad, but many poor creatures have worse.

As for you, my good friend, I think fince our first acquaintance there have not been any of thofe little fufpicions or jealoufies that often affect the fincereft friendships; I am fure, not on my fide. I must be fo fincere as to own, that though I could not help valuing you for those Talents which the world prizes, yet they were not the foundation of my friendships; they were quité of another fort; nor fhall I at present offend you by enumerating them: And I make it my Laft Requeft, that you will continue that Noble Difdain and Abhorrence of Vice, which you feem naturally endued with, but still with a due regard to your own safety; and ftudy more to reform than chaftife, tho' the one cannot be effected without the other.

Lord Bathurst I have always honour'd, for every good quality that a perfon of his rank ought to have: Pray, give my respects and kindest wishes to the family. My venifon ftomach is gone, but I have those about me, and often with me, who will be very glad of his prefent. If it is left at my house, it will be tranfmitted safe to me.

A recovery in my cafe, and at my age, is impoffible; the kindest wish of my friends is Euthanafia. Living or dying, I fhall always be

VOL. VI.

Yours, &c.

L

་

LETTER XLVIII.

To Dr AR BUTH NOT.

July 26. 1734.

Thank you for I your letter, which has all thofe genuine marks of a good mind by which I have ever diftinguish'd yours, and for which I have fo long loved you. Our friendship has been conftant; because it was grounded on good principles, and therefore not only uninterrupted by any Diftruft, but by any Vanimuch less any Interest.

ty,

What you recommend to me with the folemnity of a Laft Requeft, fhall have its due weight with me. That difdain and indignation against Vice, is (I thank God) the only difdain and indignation I have: It is fincere, and it will be a lafting one. But fure it is as impoffible to have a juft abhorrence of Vice, without hating the Vicious, as to bear a true love for Virtue, without loving the Good. To reform and not to chaftife, I am afraid, is impoffible; and that the best Precepts, as well as the beft Laws, would prove of small use, if there were no Examples to inforce them. To attack Vices in the abstract, without touching Perfons, may be fafe fighting indeed, but it is fighting with Shadows. General propofitions are obfcure, mifty, and uncertain, compar'd with plain, full, and home examples: Precepts only apply to our Reafon, which in most men is but weak: Examples are pictures, and strike the Senfes, nay raise the Paffions, and call in thofe (the strongest and moft general of