be wanting to my duty in any post, or in any refpect, 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 fpend my time in fuch a manner as is most agreeable to me. I cannot fay I do so 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 so taken up God only knows, and to his will I implicitly refign myself in every thing.

I am, &c.

MY LORD,

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.

P.

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 boat, 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 punifhment. For indeed I heartily defpife the ways of the world, and most 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 emptinefs. Tinnit, inane eft, with the picture of one ringing on the globe with his finger, is the beft thing I have the luck to remember in that great Poet Quarles (not that I forget the Devil at bowls; which I know to your Lordfhip's favourite cut, as well as favourite diverfion.)

be

The fituation here is pleasant, and the view rural enough, to humour the most retired, and agree with the most 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 use an author's words, whom you fo juftly prefer to all his followers that you'll receive them kindly, tho' taken from his worst 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 fuppofe this was in compliment to the Bishop. It could hardly be his own opi

Lion.

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here,

here, for if you would fee Lord C* or any body elfe, I have another chariot, besides that little one you laugh'd at when you compar'd me to Homer in a nut-fhell. But if you would be entirely private, no body fhall know any thing of the matter. Believe me (my Lord) no man is with more perfect acquiefcence, nay with more willing acquiefcence (not of your own Sons of the Church) Your obedient, &c.

even any

LETTER. XVI.

From the Bishop of ROCHESTER.

April 6, 1722.

NDER all the leisure in the world, I have

Uno leifure, no ftomach to write to you: The UND

gradual approaches of death are before my eyes; I am convinced that it must be fo; and yet make a shift to flatter myself fometimes with the thought, that it may poffibly be otherwise. And that very thought, tho' it is directly contrary to my reason, does for a few moments make me eafy however not eafy enough in good earneft to think of any thing but the melancholy object that employs them. Therefore wonder not that I do not answer your kind letter: I fhall anfwer it too foon, I fear, by accepting your friendly invitation. When I do fo, no conveniencies will be wanting: for I'll fee no body but you and your mother, and the fervants. Vifits to statesmen always were to me (and are now more than ever) infipid things; let the men that expect, that wish to thrive by them, pay them that homage; I am free. When I want them, they shall hear of me at their doors: and when they want me, I fhall be fure to hear of them at mine.

But

But probably they will defpife me so much, and I fhall court them fo little, that we shall both of us keep our diftance.

When I come to you, 'tis in order to be with you only; a prefident of the council, or a star and garter will make no more impreffion upon my mind, at fuch a time, than the hearing of a bag-pipe, or the fight of a puppet-fhew. I have faid to Greatnefs fometime ago-Tuas tibi res habeto, Egomet curabo meas. The time is not far off when we shall all be upon the level: and I am refolv'd, for my. part, to anticipate that time, and be upon the level with them now: for he is fo, that neither seeks nor wants them. Let them have more virtue and lefs pride: and then I'll court them as much as any body but till they resolve to diftinguish themselves fome way elfe than by their outward trappings, I am determined (and, I think, I have a right) to be as proud as they are: tho' I truft in God, my pride is neither of fo odious a nature as theirs, nor of fo mifchievous a confequence.

I know not how I have fallen into this train of thinking-when I fat down to write I intended only to excufe myself for not writing, and to tell you that the time drew nearer and nearer, when I muft diflodge; I am preparing for it: For I am at this moment building a vault in the Abby for me and mine. 'Twas to be in the Abby, because of my relation to the place; but 'tis at the weft door of it: as far from Kings and Cæfars as the space will admit of.

I know not but I may step to town to-morrow, to see how the work goes forward; but, if I do, I fhall return hither in the evening. I would not have given you the trouble of this letter but that they tell me it will coft you nothing, and that our privilege

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privilege of Franking (one of the most valuable we have left) is again allow'd us.

Your, &c.

I

LETTER XVII.

From the Bishop of ROCHESTER.

Bromley, May 25, 1722.

Had much ado to get hither last night, the water being fo rough that the ferry-men were unwilling to venture. The first thing I saw this morning after my eyes were open, was your letter, for the freedom and kindness of which I thank you. Let all compliments be laid afide between us for the future; and depend upon me as your faithful friend in all things within my power, as one that truly values you, and wishes you all manner of happiness. I thank you and Mrs. Pope for my kind reception, which has left a pleafing impreffion upon me that will not foon be effaced.

Lord has prefs'd me terribly to see him at* and told me in a manner betwixt kindness and refentment, that it is but a few miles beyond Twitenham.

I have but a little time left, and a great deal to do in it; and must expect that ill health will render a good fhare of it ufelefs; and therefore what is likely to be left at the foot of the account, ought, by me to be cherish'd, and not thrown away in compliments. You know the Motto of my fundial, Vivite, ait, fugio. I will, as far as I am able, follow its advice, and cut off all unneceffary avocations and amusements. There are thofe that intend to employ me this winter in a way I do not like: If they perfift in their intentions, I must ap

ply