fore relates only to the ladies: don't imagine I'll write about any eyes but theirs) stay, I say, from that idle, bufy-looking Sanhedrin, where wisdom or no wisdom is the eternal debate, not (as it lately was in Ireland) an accidental one.

If, after all, you will defpife good advice, and refolve to come to London, here you will find me, doing just the things I fhould not, living where I fhould not, and as worldly, as idle, in a word as much an Anti-Bermudanist as any body, Dear Sir, make the ladies know I am their feryant, you know I am

Yours, &c.

I

LETTER XVI.

Aug. 12.

Have been above a month strolling about in Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire, from garden to garden, but ftill returning to Lord Cobham's with fresh satisfaction. I should be forry to see my Lady Scudamore's, till it has had the full advantage of Lord B*'s improvements; and then I will expect something like the waters of Rifkins, and the woods of Oakley' together, which (without flattery) would be at leaft as good as any thing in our world: For as to the hanging gardens of Babylon, the Paradife of Cyrus, and the Sharawaggi's of China, I have

little

A

little or no ideas of them, but, I dare fay, Lord B* has, because they were certainly both very great, and very wild. I hope Mrs, Mary Digby is quite tired of his Lordfhip's Extravagante Bergerie: and that fhe is just now fitting, or rather reclining on a bank, fatigued with overmuch dancing and finging at his unwearied requeft and inftigation. I know your love of ease so well, that you might be in danger of being too quiet to enjoy quiet, and too philofophical to be a philofopher; were it not for the ferment Lord B. will put you into. One of his Lordship's maxims is, that a total abftinence from intemperance or business, is no more philofophy, than a total confopition of the fenfes is repose; one muft feel enough of its contrary to have a relish of either. But, after all, let your temper work, and be as fedate and contemplative as you will, I'll engage you shall be fit for any of us, when you come to town in the winter. Folly will laugh you into all the customs of the company here; nothing will be able to prevent your converfion to her, but indifpofition, which, I hope, will be far from you. I am telling the worst that can come of you; for as to vice, you are fafe; but folly is many an honeft man's, nay every good humour'd man's lot: nay, it is the seasoning of life; and fools (in one fenfe) are the falt of the earth: a little

is

is excellent, tho' indeed a whole mouthful is justly call'd the Devil.

So much for your diverfions next winter, and for mine. I envy you much more at present, than I fhall then; for if there be on earth an image of paradife, it is fuch perfect Union and Society as you all poffefs. I would have my innocent envies and wishes of your ftate known to you all; which is far better than making you compliments, for it is inward approbation and esteem. My Lord Digby has in me a fincere fervant, or would have, were there any occafion for me to manifeft it.

Io

LETTER XVII.

Decemb. 28, 1724.

T is now the season to wish you a good end of one year, and a happy beginning of another: but both these you know how to make yourself, by only continuing fuch a life as you have been long accustomed to lead. As for good works, they are things I dare not name, either to those that do them, or to thofe that do them not; the first are too modeft, and the latter too felfish, to bear the mention of what are become either too old fashion'd, or too private, to con

ftitute

ftitute any part of the vanity or reputation of the present age. However, it were to be wish'd people would now and then look upon good works as they do upon old wardrobes, merely in case any of them should by chance come into fashion again; as ancient fardingales revive in modern hoop'd petticoats, (which may be properly compared to charities, as they cover a multitude of fins.)

They tell me that at Coleshill certain antiquated charities, and obfolete devotions are yet fubfifting that a thing call'd Chriftian Chearfulness (not incompatible with Christmas-pyes and plumb-broth) whereof frequent is the mention in old fermons and almanacks, is really kept alive and in practice: that feeding the hungry, and giving alms to the poor, do yet make a part of good house-keeping, in a latitude not more remote from London than fourscore miles and laftly, that prayers and roaftbeef actually make fome people as happy as a whore and a bottle. But here in town, I affure

you, men, women, and children have done with these things. Charity not only begins, but ends, at home. Inftead of the four cardinal virtues, now reign four courtly ones: we have cunning for prudence, rapine for justice, time-ferving for fortitude, and luxury for tem

8

perance.

perance. Whatever you may fancy where you live in a state of ignorance, and fee nothing but quiet, religion, and good-humour, the cafe is just as I tell you where people understand the world, and know how to live with credit and glory.

I wish that Heaven would open the eyes of men, and make them fenfible which of these is right; whether, upon a due conviction, we are to quit faction, and gaming, and high-feeding, and all manner of luxury, and to take to your country way? or you to leave prayers, and almsgiving, and reading, and exercife, and come into our measures? I wish (I fay) that this matter was as clear to all men as it is to Your affectionate, &c.

LETTER XVIII.

DEAR SIR,

April 21, 1726.

I'

Have a great inclination to write to you, tho' I cannot by writing, any more than I could by words, express what part I bear in your fufferings. Nature and esteem in you are join'd to aggravate your affliction: the latter I have in

Mr. Digby died in the | Dorsetshire, with an Epiyear 1726, and is buried in taph written by the Author. the Church of Sherburne in

P.

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