Adieu. May every domeftic happiness make you unwilling to remove from home; and may every friend, you do that kindness for, treat you so as to make you forget you are not at home.

I am, &c.

I

LETTER CXIII.

Dec. 28, 1742.

Have always so many things to take kindly of you, that I don't know which to begin to thank you for. I was willing to conclude our whole account of the Dunciad, at least, and therefore staid till it was finished. The encouragement you gave me to add the fourth book first determined me to do fo; and the approbation you seem'd to give it was what singly determined me to print it. Since that, your Notes and your Discourse in the name of Aristarchus have given its laft finishings and ornaments.--I am glad you will refresh the memory of fuch readers as have no other faculty to be readers, especially of such works as the Divine Legation. But I hope you will not take too much notice of another and duller fort; those who become writers thro' malice, and must die whenever you please to shine out in the the completion of the Work: which I wish were now your only answer to any of them: except you will make use of that short and excellent one you gave me in the story of the reading-glass.

The world here grows very busy. About what time is it you think of being amongst us ? My health, I fear, will confine me, whether in town or here, so that I may expect more of your company as one good resulting out of evil.

I write, you know, very laconically. I have but one formula which says everything to a Friend, "I am yours, and beg you to continue " mine." Let me not be ignorant (you can prevent my being so of any thing, but first and principally) of your health and well being; and depend on my sense of all the Kindness over and above all the fustice you shall ever do

me.

I never read a thing with more pleasure than an additional sheet to Jervas's preface to Don Quixote. Before I got over two paragraphs I cried out, Aut Erafmus aut diabolus! I knew you as certainly as the ancients did the Gods by the first pace and the very gait. I have not a moment to express myself in, but could not omit this which delighted me so greatly.

* On the origin of the books of Chivalry.

:

My

1

My Law-fuit with L. is at an end.--Adieu!

Believe no man can be more yours. Call me by any title you will but a Doctor of Oxford; Sit tibi cura mei, fit tibi cura tui.

I

LETTER CXIV.

1

Jan. 18, 1742.

Am forced to grow every day more laconic in my letters, for my eyesight grows every day shorter and dimmer. Forgive me then that I answer you summarily. I can even less bear an equal part in a correfpondence than in a conversation with you. But be assured once for all, the more I read of you, as the more I hear from you, the better I am instructed and pleased. And this misfortune of my own dulness, and my own absence, only quickens my ardent wish that fome good fortune would draw you nearer, and enable me to enjoy both, for a greater part of our lives in this neighbourhood; and in such a fituation, as might make more beneficial friends, than I, esteem and enjoy you equally.--I have again heard from Lord * * and another hand, that the Lord + writ to you of, declares an intention to ferve you. My answer (which they related to him) was, that he would be sure of your acquaintance for life, if once he served,

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or obliged you; but that, I was certain, you would never trouble him with your expectation, tho' he would never get rid of your gratitude. ---Dear Sir, adieu, and let me be sometimes certified of your health. My own is as usual; and my affection the fame, always yours.

LETTER CXV.

Twitenham, March 24, 1743.

I Write to you amongst the very few I now defire to have my Friends, merely, Si valeas, valeo. "Tis in effect all I fay: but it is very literally true, for I place all that makes my life defirable in their welfare. I may truly affirm, that vanity or interest have not the least share in any friendship I have; or cause me now to cultivate that of any one man by any one letter. But if any motive should draw me to flatfer a great man, it would be to fave the friend I would have him serve from doing it. Rather than lay a deferving person under the necessity of it, I would hazard my own character and Keep his in dignity. Tho', in truth, I live in a time when no measures of conduct influence the success of one's applications, and the best thing to trust to is chance and opportunity.

I only meant to tell you, I am wholly yours, how few words so ever I make of it.--A greater pleasure pleasure to me is, that I chanced to make Mr. Allen so, who is not only worth more than-intrinfically; but, I foresee, will be effectually more à comfort and glory to you every year you live. My confidence in any man less truly great than an honest one is but small.

I have lived much by myself of late, partly thro' ill health, and partly to amuse myself with little improvements in my garden and house, to which possibly I shall (if I live) be soon more confined. When the Dunciad may be published I know not. I am more defirous of car rying on the best, that is your edition of the rest of the Epistles and Essay on Criticism, &c. I know it is there I shall be seen most to advantage. But I insist on one condition, that you never think of this when you can employ yourself in finishing that noble work of the Divine Legation (which is what, above all, iterum iterumque monebo1) or any other useful scheme of your own. It would be a fatisfaction to me at present only to hear that you have fupported your health among these epidemical diforders, which, thơ not mortal to any of my friends, have afflicted almost every one.

Either, his Friendship for | most the last Words he said to the Editor, or his Love of the Editor as he was dying, Religion, made him have this was the conjuring him to fi very much at Heart; and al-nish the last Volume.