of you, and the best of my wishes for you, will attend you, told or untold.

I could wish you had once the constancy and resolution to act for yourself; whether before or after I leave you (the only way I ever shall leave you), you must determine; but reflect, that the first would make me, as well as yourself, happier; the latter could make you only so. Adieu.

TO THE BISHOP OF ROCHESTER

20th November 1717.

MY LORD-I am truly obliged by your kind condolence on my father's death, and the desire you express that I should improve this incident to my advantage. I know your lordship's friendship to me is so extensive, that you include in that wish both my spiritual and my temporal advantage; and it is what I owe to that friendship, to open my mind unreservedly to you on this head. It is true, I have lost a parent for whom no gains I could make would be any equivalent. But that was not my only tie; I thank God another still remains (and long may it remain) of the same tender nature. Genetrix est mihi, and excuse me if I say with Euryalus,

nequeam lacrymas perferre parentis,

A rigid divine may call it a carnal tie, but sure it is a virtuous one. At least I am more certain that it is a duty of nature to preserve a good parent's life and happiness than I am of any speculative point whatever.

Ignaram hujus quodcunque pericli

Hanc ego, nunc, linquam?

For she, my lord, would think this separation more grievous than any other, and I, for my part, know as little as poor Euryalus did, of the success of such an adventure; for an adventure it is, and no small one, in spite of the most positive divinity. Whether the change would be to my spiritual advantage, God only knows ; this I know, that I mean as well in the religion I now profess, as I can possibly ever do in another. Can a man who thinks so justify a change, even if he thought both equally good? To such

an one the part of joining with any one body of Christians might perhaps be easy, but I think it would not be so, to renounce the other.

Your lordship has formerly advised me to read the best controversies between the churches. Shall I tell you a secret? I did so at fourteen years old, for I loved reading, and my father had no other books; there was a collection of all that had been written on both sides in the reign of King James the Second. I wormed my head with them, and the consequence was, that I found myself a Papist and a Protestant by turns, according to the last book I read. I am afraid most seekers are in the same case, and when they stop, they are not so properly converted as outwitted. You see how little glory you would gain by my conversion. And, after all, I verily believe your lordship and I are both of the same religion, if we were thoroughly understood by one another; and that all honest and reasonable Christians would be so, if they did but talk enough together every day, and had nothing to do together, but to serve God, and live in peace with their neighbour.

As to the temporal side of the question, I can have no dispute with you; it is certain, all the beneficial circumstances of life, and all the shining ones, be on the part you would invite me to. But if I could bring myself to fancy, what I think you do but fancy, that I have any talents for active life, I want health for it; and besides it is a real truth, I have less inclination (if possible) than ability. Contemplative life is not only my scene, but it is my habit too. I began my life where most people end theirs,

I do not

with a disrelish of all that the world calls ambition. know why it is called so, for to me it always seemed to be rather stooping than climbing. I will tell you my politic and religious sentiments in a few words. In my politics I think no further than how to preserve the peace of my life, in any government under which I live; nor in my religion, than to preserve the peace of my conscience in any church with which I communicate. I hope all churches and all governments are so far of God, as they are rightly understood, and rightly administered; and where they are, or may be wrong, I leave to God alone to mend or reform them; which, whenever He does, it must be by greater instruments than I am. I am not a Papist, for I renounce the temporal invasions of the papal power, and detest their arrogated authority over princes and states. I am a Catholic in the strictest

sense of the word. If I was born under an absolute prince, I would be a quiet subject; but I thank God I was not. I have a due sense of the excellence of the British constitution.

In a word, the things I have always wished to see are not a Roman Catholic, or a French Catholic, or a Spanish Catholic, but a true Catholic ;' not a king of Whigs, or a king of Tories, but a king of England; which God of his mercy grant his present majesty may be, and all future majesties. You see, my lord, I end like a preacher; that is, Sermo ad Clerum, not ad Populum. Believe me, with infinite obligation and sincere thanks, ever your, etc.

TO SWIFT

25th March, 1736.

IF ever I write more epistles in verse, one of them shall be addressed to you. I have long concerted it, and begun it, but I would make what bears your name as finished as my last work ought to be, that is to say, more finished than any of the rest. The subject is large, and will divide into four epistles, which naturally follow the Essay on Man, viz.-1. Of the extent and limit of human reason and science. 2. A view of the useful and therefore attainable, and of the un-useful and therefore unattainable arts. 3. Of the nature, ends, application, and use of different capacities. 4. Of the use of learning, of the science of the world and of wit. It will conclude with a satire against the misapplication of all these, exemplified by pictures, characters, and examples. But alas! the task is great, and non sum qualis eram ! My understanding indeed, such as it is, is extended rather than diminished; I see things more in the whole, more consistent, and more clearly deduced from, and related to each other. But what I gain on the side of philosophy, I lose on the side of poetry; the flowers are gone when the fruits begin to ripen, and the fruits perhaps will never ripen perfectly. The climate, under our heaven of a court, is but cold and uncertain; the winds rise, and the winter comes on. I find myself but little disposed to build a new house; I have nothing left but to gather up the reliques of a wreck, and look about me to see how few friends I have left. Pray, whose esteem or admiration should I desire now to procure by my writings? whose friendship or conversation to obtain by

them? I am a man of desperate fortunes, that is, a man whose friends are dead; for I never aimed at any other fortune than in friends. As soon as I had sent my last letter, I received a most kind one from you, expressing great pain for my late illness at Mr. Cheselden's. I conclude you were eased of that friendly apprehension in a few days after you had despatched yours, for mine must have reached you there. I wondered a little at your quare who Cheselden was? It shows that the truest merit does not travel any way as on the wings of poetry. He is the most noted and most deserving man in the whole profession of chirurgery, and has saved the lives of thousands by his manner of cutting for the stone. I am now well, or what I must call so. I have lately seen some writings of Lord Bolingbroke's, since he went to France. Nothing can depress his genius. Whatever befals him, he will still be the greatest man in the world, either in his own time, or with posterity.

I could
I can

Every man you know or care for here enquires of you, and pays you the only devoir he can, that of drinking your health. Here are a race sprung up of young patriots who would animate you. I wish you had any motive to see this kingdom. keep you, for I am rich, that is, I have more than I want. afford room for yourself and two servants; I have indeed room enough, nothing but myself at home. The kind and hearty housewife is dead! the agreeable and instructive neighbour is gone! Yet my house is enlarged and the gardens extend and flourish, as knowing nothing of the guests they have lost. I have more fruit trees and kitchen-garden than you have any thought of; nay, I have good melons and pine apples of my own growth. I am as much a better gardener as I am a worse poet, than when you saw me; but gardening is near akin to philosophy, for Tully says, Agricultura proxima sapientiæ. For God's sake, why should not you (that are a step higher than a philosopher, a divine, yet have too much grace and wit to be a bishop) e'en give all you have to the poor of Ireland (for whom you have already done everything else), so quit the place, and live and die with me! And let Tales animæ concordes be our motto and our epitaph.

TO THE EARL OF BURLINGTON

1716. MY LORD-If your mare could speak, she would give an account of what extraordinary company she had on the road; which since she cannot do, I will.

It was the enterprising Mr Lintot, the redoubtable rival of Mr. Tonson, who, mounted on a stone-horse (no disagreeable companion to your lordship's mare, overtook me in Windsor forest. He said he heard I designed for Oxford, the seat of the muses, and would, as my bookseller, by all means accompany me thither.

I

I asked him where he got his horse? He answered that he got it of his publisher: "For that rogue my printer (said he) disappointed me: I hoped to put him in a good humour by a treat at the tavern, of a brown fricassee of rabbits, which cost two shillings, with two quarts of wine, besides my conversation. thought myself cocksure of his horse, which he readily promised me, but said that Mr. Tonson had just such another design of going to Cambridge, expecting there the copy of a new kind of Horace from Dr. Bentley, and if Mr. Tonson went, he was pre-engaged to attend him, being to have the printing of the said copy.

"So in short, I borrowed this stone-horse of my publisher, which he had of Mr. Oldmixon for a debt; he lent me, too, the pretty boy you see after me: he was a smutty dog yesterday, and cost me near two hours to wash the ink off his face; but the devil is a fair-conditioned devil, and very fair in his catechise : if you have any more bags, he shall carry them.”

I thought Mr. Lintot's civility not to be neglected, so gave the boy a small bag, containing three shirts and an Elzevir Virgil; and mounting in an instant, proceeded on the road, with my man before, my courteous stationer beside, and the aforesaid devil behind.

Mr. Lintot began in this manner: "Now damn them! what if they should put into the newspapers, how you and I went together to Oxford? What would I care? If I should go down into Sussex, they would say I was gone to the Speaker. But what of that? If my son were but big enough to go on with the business, by G―d I would keep as good company as old Jacob." Thereupon I inquired of his son. "The lad (says he) has fine