in rags amongst you, we can never believe: our uninform'd minds represent her fo noble to us, that we neceffarily annex fplendor to her: and we could as foon imagine the order of things inverted, and that there is no man in the moon, as believe the contrary. I can't forbear telling you we indeed read the spoils of Rapine as boys do the English rogue, and hug ourselves full as much over it; yet our roses are not without thorns. Pray give me the pleasure of hearing (when you are at leisure) how foon 1 may expect to see the next volume of Homer. I am, &c.

Y

LETTER IV.

May 1, 1720.

Ou'll think me very full of myself, when after long filence (which however, to fay truth, has rather been employed to contemplate of you, than to forget you) I begin to talk of my own works. I find it is in the finishing a book, as in concluding a feffion of Parliament, one always thinks it will be very foon, and finds it very late. There are many unlook'd-for incidents to retard the clearing any public account, and so I see it is in mine. I have plagued myfelf, like great minifters, with undertaking too much for one man; and with a defire

of

of doing more than was expected from me, have done less than I ought.

For having defigned four very laborious and uncommon fort of Indexes to Homer, I'm forced, for want of time, to publish two only: the defign of which you will own to be pretty, tho' far from being fully executed. I've also been obliged to leave unfinish'd in my desk the heads of two Effays, one on the Theology and Morality of Homer, and another on the Oratory of Homer and Virgil. So they must wait for future editions, or perifh: and (one way or other, no great matter which) dabit Deus his quoque finem. I think of you every day, I affure you, even without fuch good memorials of you as your fifters, with whom I fometimes talk of you, and find it one of the most agreeable of all fubjects to them. My Lord Digby must be perpetually remember'd by all who ever knew him, or knew his children. There needs no more than acquaintance with your family, to make all elder fons wish they had fathers to their lives end.

I can't touch upon the fubject of filial love, without putting you in mind of an old woman, who has a fincere, hearty, old-fashion'd refpect for you, and conftantly blames her fon for not having writ to you oftener to tell you fo.

VOL. VIII.

E

I very

50

very

?

I much with (but what fignifies my wishing my Lady Scudamore wishes, your fifters wish) that you were with us, to comthe beautiful contrafte this feafon affords us, pare of the town and the country. No ideas you could form in the winter can make you imagine what Twickenham is (and what your friend Mr. Johnson of Twickenham is) in this warmer season. Our river glitters beneath an unclouded fun, at the fame time that its banks retain the verdure of showers: our gardens are offering their first nofegays; our trees, like new acquaintance brought happily together, are stretching their arms to meet each other, and growing nearer and nearer every hour; the birds are paying their thanksgiving fongs for the new habitations I have made them; my building rifes high enough to attract the eye and curiofity of the paffenger from the river, where, upon beholding a mixture of beauty and ruin, he enquires what house is falling, or what church is rifing? So little tafte have our common Tritons of Vitruvius; whatever delight the poetical gods of the river may take, in reflecting on their ftreams, my Tufcan Porticos, or Ionic Pilafters.

But (to defcend from all this pomp of style) the best account of what I am building, is, that it will afford me a few pleasant rooms for fuch a friend as yourself, or a cool fituation for an hour

hour or two for Lady Scudamore, when she will do me the honour (at this public house on the road) to drink her own cyder.

The moment I am writing this, I am furprized with the account of the death of a friend of mine; which makes all I have here been talking of, a mere jeft! Building, gardens, writings, pleasures, works of whatever stuff man can raife! none of them (God knows) capable of advantaging a creature that is mortal, or of fatisfying a foul that is immortal! Dear Sir, I am, &c.

LETTER V.

From Mr. DIGBY.

May 21, 1720.

OUR letter, which I had two posts ago,

You

was very medicinal to me; and I heartily thank you for the relief it gave me. Iwas fick of the thoughts of my not having in all this time given you any testimony of the affection I Owe you, and which I as conftantly indeed feel as I think of you. This indeed was a troubleme ill to me, till, after reading your letter, I found it was a moft idle weak imagination to think

E 2

think I could fo offend you. Of all the impreffions you have made upon me, I never receiv'd any with greater joy than this of your abundant good-nature, which bids me be affured of fome share of your affections.

your

I had many other pleasures from your letter; that mother remembers me is a very your fincere joy to me; I cannot but reflect how alike you are; from the time you do any one a favour, you think yourselves obliged as thofe that have received one. This is indeed an old-fashioned refpect, hardly to be found out of house. I have great hopes, however, to fee many oldfashioned virtues revive, fince you have made our age in love with Homer; I heartily wish you, who are as good a citizen as a poet, the joy of feeing a reformation from your works. I am in doubt whether I fhould congratulate your having finifhed Homer, while the two effays you mention are not compleated; but if you expect no great trouble from finishing these, I heartily rejoice with you.

I have fome faint notion of the beauties of Twickenham from what I here fee round me. The verdure of fhowers is poured upon every tree and field about us; the gardens unfold variety of colours to the eye every morning; the hedges breath is beyond all perfume, and the

fong