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 THE 
 
 MI'S cELfrAWfe airs-'"- v 
 
 WORK S, 
 
 I N 
 
 PROSE and VERSE* 
 
 O F 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe: 
 
 Publifhed by her Order, 
 3yMr.fHEOPHILUS ROWE, 
 
 To which are added, 
 
 POEMS on SEVERAL OCCASIONS^ 
 By Mr. THOMAS R WE. 
 
 And to the Whole is prefixed, 
 
 An Account of the LIVES and WRITINGS 
 of the AUTHORS. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 The THIRD EDITION, Corrected. 
 
 To which is now firft added, 
 
 The HISTORY of JOSEPH, a Poem in Ten Books. 
 
 L O N D O #,7.11 A& 
 
 Printed for HENRY LINTOT: And fold by S. BIRT, 
 
 and B. DOD, in Ave- Mary- Lane, J. WA Ruover- 
 
 againft the Royal- Exchange, and W. Jo H N s T o N 
 
 in St, Paul's Church-yard. MPCCL,
 
 ... '. , V ; _ I ; ; ; ^ '. 
 
 
 
 rM-:.G 

 
 THE 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 T O T H E 
 
 SECOND VOLUME. 
 
 Page. 
 
 rfH E Hijtory of Jofeph. [iQ 
 
 * Dialogue I. Againjl ridiculing perfonal def efts, i 
 
 Dialogue II. Againjl gaming, 5 
 
 Dialogue III. Againjl a life of pleafure, n 
 
 j& letter under ajiditious name fent to a gentleman, 
 who while the author <was prefent, difputed 
 
 againft the immortality of the foul, 1 7 
 
 Alcander to Clerimont. A Litter from the dead to 
 
 Letters to the Honourable Mrs. , 24. 
 
 Letters to the Right Honourable the Count efs of 
 
 Letters to Mr. Thomas Rowe, and to federal of 
 
 bis relations, - igi 
 
 Letters to Mrs. Arabella Marrow, . 242 
 
 Letters to various per fans, zj i 
 
 to the memory of Mr. Thomas Rowe ; oc- 
 cajiohed by his Lives being tranjlated into 
 French by the Abbe Bellenger, and pullffi d at 
 
 a * Pari 8
 
 The CONTENT S. 
 
 Page f 
 Paris and Amfterdam with Mr. DacierV tranf- 
 
 lation of Plutarch. By Mr. Thcophilus 
 Rowe. ' . 265 
 
 Original Poems, and Tranflations. 
 By Mr. THOMAS ROWE. 
 
 Horace Book I. Ode xii. imitated, - 267 
 
 Tibullus, Book I. Elegy iii. . 270 
 
 An ode on Virtue. By Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe, 275 
 An epijile to a Friend ; written in the Spring, 
 
 David'/ lamentation over Saul and Jonathan j from 
 
 2 Sam. chap i. 294 
 
 To Daphnis. An epijile giving an account of the 
 mojl celebrated writers ia poetry of the fair 
 
 An epijile to Climene. Imitated from the French 
 
 of Madame Des Houlierw, 305 
 
 The Caprice. From the fame, -' 308 
 
 Pindar' j ode to Proferpine. Tranjlated from the 
 French cfMonfieur de la Motte. Infcritfd to 
 the Reverend Mr* John RuffeJ, ' 311 
 *An ode to Delia, 319 
 
 An ode on Liberty ; ' ; 325 
 
 THE
 
 M ifcellaneous Pieces 
 
 O F 
 
 Mrs. ELIZABETH ROWE. 
 
 VOL. II, 
 
 DIALOGUES. 
 
 DIALOGUE I. 
 
 Jtgainft ridiculing ferfonal defeffs. 
 
 LOUISA 
 
 OW could you be fo barbarous, filler, 
 to ridicule Mrs. Molifris fhape, and 
 mimic her limping ftep, when me was 
 hardly got out of the room ? 
 
 MA R I A. 
 THIS reproof from you, Madam, 
 is really unexpected. I thought to render myfelf agree- 
 able by imitating Mrs. Molieris airs and graces : I never 
 VOL. II. B vet
 
 2 DIALOGUES. 
 
 yet heard you own that fl>e was either crooked, or lame, 
 &r had any deformity in her pcrfon or mien. 
 
 L O U I S A. 
 
 I F there was not a greater deformity in your mind 
 than in her perfon, you could never ridicule thofe natu- 
 ral defefts, which a generous and humane temper would 
 pity, efpecially in one of her affable difpofitio* and ex- 
 cellent underftanding. Inftead of defpifmg fuch a form, 
 you ought to thank God that yours is not like it. 
 
 MA R I A. 
 
 THAT I do raoft heartily ! My devotions on this 
 head are very ardent and fincere, whatever they are on 
 other occafions. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I F you had her mind, tho' with a worfe figure than 
 hers, it would be no difad vantage to you. There is 
 fuch a beauty in her whole conduft, fuch a conftant 
 calm and fweetnefs in her temper, that one mufl be 
 very malicious to overlook fo much merit, and make 
 cruel remarks on the defers of her form. I wifh you 
 vould take this generous advice of Mrs. Barbels : 
 
 On mice your humorous <vein difylay, 
 
 'TirV meritorious there j 
 Or touring vanity allay t 
 
 But oh ! misfortune /pare. 
 
 It will not over- burthen your memory, to learn this ex- 
 cellent rule by heart. 
 
 MAR 1 A. 
 I H AVE no poetical tafte. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I WISH you had ; it might give a more gentle and 
 harmonious turn to your mind, and foften that fevere 
 
 dif-
 
 D PA L O G U E S. 3 
 
 difpofition that makes you uneafy to yourfelf, and all 
 your acquaintance. You feem to be in a ftate of hofti- 
 lity with all humankind : Nothing contents you. Sonic 
 people are too tall, and fome too fhort, fome too fat, 
 others too lean, and nothing is as it fhould be. You 
 can find no excellence in all the works of God, except - 
 i ng your own fine perfon ; which one would think fhould 
 be the model of all perfection, or you could not be 
 fo critical on every body elfe. 
 
 MARIA. 
 
 WHY really, fifter, I fee no reafon to be difcon- 
 tentcd with my own Ihape or features. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 AND Mifs Squinny is as well fatisfied with her own 
 beauty as you are with yours ; and yet you have mi- 
 inick'd the odd caft of her eyes fo long, that a little 
 more practice will make you downright fquint : and if 
 you imitate Mrs. Molicre^s ftep much longer, I am 
 afraid you will be quite lame. 
 
 MA R I A. 
 WHO is ridiculing natural defects now? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 No, fifter, 'tis not natural, but acquir'd and volun- 
 tary imperfections, that I amexpoling. 
 
 MA R I A. 
 
 You are my elder fifter, and have my mother's 
 partiality to fupport you ; but really thefe admonitions 
 are a little too affuming. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I DON'T ufe to talk in fo fevere a {train, but Mifs 
 
 Molly, you have touch'd me on a tender point. The 
 
 vafl efteem I have for Mrs. Moliere will not fuffer me 
 
 to hear her expos'd, nor can I be unconcern 'd for your 
 
 B 2 cha-
 
 4 DIALOGUES. 
 
 character. It would be want of natural affeftion, to 
 lee you make yourfelf hated and fhunn'd, as the pefl of 
 fociety j which muft be your lot, if you carry this cruel 
 cenforious temper into all companies. What pleafure 
 can you take in contemplating only on the .blemifhes of 
 your own fpecies ? I mould think the beauties and 
 graces of human nature a more elegant and agreeable 
 fpeculation. 
 
 MA R I A. 
 
 SISTER, are you almofl come to the conclufion of 
 this judicious lefture ? 
 
 LOUISA 
 
 As foon as I have recall'd to your memory one or 
 two inftances of the juftice of divine providence on 
 this crime of mocking natural defedls. You know 
 Jenny Flounce broke her leg in the very aftion of mi- 
 micking her lame miftrefs, and Mifs 'litter has ridi- 
 culed her purblind fifter till ihe is grown flark blind 
 
 herfelf. My dear fitter, I perceive by the remorfe 
 
 and confufion that appear in your looks, I have faid 
 enough : I will only repeat a few lines that may give 
 you a true notion of beauty, from a ne poem call'd 
 f&e Art cf Charming. 
 
 What is the blooming tinllure of a Jkin t 
 f fo peace cf mind, to harmony within ? 
 What the bright fparkling of the fneji eye, 
 To the foft footbing of a calm reply ? 
 Can comdinefi of form, or Jhape, or air, 
 With comelinefs. of words or deeds compare ? 
 No, thofe at frjl th* unwary heart may gain, 
 JSut thefc, thefe "only can that heart retain. 
 
 D I A-
 
 D 
 
 DIALOGUE II. 
 
 Againft gaming. 
 
 T R 1 F L E. 
 
 EAR Lady Harriot, how am I rejoic'd to find 
 you able to bear company again after your long 
 illiiefs ? I have engag'd a charming party for Qy#- 
 drille, as foon as ever you will appoint the time for 
 their attendance at your own apartment. 
 
 HARRIOT. 
 
 You are very obliging indeed, Mrs. Trife, in taking 
 fuch care to divert me ; and the vanity of my pait 
 life has given you too much reafon to believe I fliall fpend 
 my future time to no better purpofe : But this fick- 
 nefs has put my mind in another fituation, and given 
 me a quite different opinion of what I once call'd 
 pleafare and innocent amufement. 
 
 TRIFLE. 
 
 I HOPE you are riot grown fo fuperfiitious as to be 
 afraid of gaming, or to think there can be any thing 
 criminal in a pack of cards. - Why, my dear, you 
 are quite funk in fpleen and vapours. Pray did your 
 grandmother ever teach you this notable rhyme ? that 
 
 Cards and dice 
 
 Are the debit's device. 
 
 HARRIOT. 
 
 PERHAPS there's more truth in this rhyme than you 
 imagine : It appears to me a fort of infernal ftrata- 
 gem, by which fome evil genius was leading me on to 
 my own deftrudtion, and the ruin of my family. - 
 When I married my Lord he was in free and eafy 
 circumftances. By my attachment to cards, attended 
 with conilant ill luck, I embarrafs'd the tendereft and 
 B 3 beil
 
 6 DIALOGUES. 
 
 beft of hufbands in a thoufand difficulties. The na- 
 tural liberality of his temper was reftrain'd,. to fupply 
 my extravagance. Thofe generous aftions that adorn'd 
 his ftate of profperity, are now funk in a gloomy an- 
 xiety how to anfwer the numerous debts my vanity had 
 contra&ed. This thought fate heavy on my heart, 
 when I faw his concern for me in this late illnefs. 
 It touched me with exquhlte remorfe to find him fo 
 tenderly felicitous for a life fo deftruftive as mine has 
 been to all the peace and tranquility of his foul ; that 
 had clouded his gayeft hours, and ftain'd all the luftr*- 
 of his former conduft 
 
 T R I FL E. 
 
 I MUST interrupt you now in my Lord's defence. 
 No man has a fairer character, he has never reftrain'd 
 your expences ; whatever fums you loft, he had ftill tht 
 ^enerofity to difcharge your debts of honour. 
 
 HARRIOT. 
 
 My debts of honour, as you call them, were indeed 
 punctually paid j would to heaven my debts of equity 
 and confcience were half fo well difcharg'd ! That 
 juftice might have fav'd many an honeft tradefman and 
 his family from want and mifery. But this curft at- 
 tachment to cards harden'd my heart againft all. the 
 fentiments of juftice and compaffion, and even effaced' 
 the tender impreffions of nature from my heart. My 
 children were neglected, and left wholly to the care of 
 mercenary fervants. My Lord, the beft of men, foundL 
 me always cold and infenfible to his merit and tender- 
 nefs. Inftead of foftening the perplexities of life, I 
 plung'd him into new diftrefs. His fondnefs would net 
 fuffer him to be fevere,. and his gentle remonftrances- 
 were infignificant. An ardor for gaming poflefs'd all 
 ^nay foul, Ombre and Quadrille ingrofs'd my whole at- 
 tention ; thefe were the fubjecls of my waking thoughts, 
 and of my nightly dreams.. 
 
 TRIFLE.
 
 DIALOGUES. 7 
 
 tT R I FLE. 
 
 AND what more agreeable fubjeft could employ 
 your thoughts ? But for the dear diverfion of cards, 
 life would be an iniignificant thing, a mere blank. 
 Were I debarr'd from that dear amufement, breathing 
 would be a fatigue, and I mould contentedly make my 
 exit from the world. 
 
 HA R R JO ?. 
 
 Awt> pray what do you propofe to entertain your- 
 felf with in the next? What fchemes of diverfion have 
 you contriv'd, in which to pafs the tedious length of 
 eternity f 
 
 T R 1 FLE. 
 
 THAT'S a concern fo diftant and uncertath, that it 
 gives me no manner of trouble. Thefe fort of chi- 
 mera's never enter my brain, or if they did, I fhould 
 find fome little diverfion or other, to banifh fuch gloomy 
 fubjects. 
 
 H A R R I O T. 
 
 BUT a time will come when thefe gloomy fubje&s 
 will prefs with their full energy on your mind. The 
 not thinking on death, will not make us immortal. 
 I mould have talk'd juft as you do now, before my laft 
 iilnefs, but that conquer 1 d all my gaiety. The phy- 
 ficians darft not flatter me with life, nature feem'd to 
 be making its laft efforts to retain my flying breath. 
 I thought every moment would be the fatal period of 
 all my future hopes, and that death would immediately 
 land me on fome bleak and defolate fhore, a naked, 
 un-embodied fpirit, fhivering with horror and guilt 
 among ghofts and gloomy fpe&res. My apprehenfiort 
 in this interval was more quick and penetrating than 
 ufual. I cannot exprefs with what an energy thefe 
 terrors were fix'd on niy imagination. Had I been 
 pofleflbr of the whole world, I would have given it 
 for fome of thofe ineftimable hours I had lavifh'd away 
 in guilt and vanity. 
 
 B4 7RJFLE.
 
 8 DIALOGUE S, 
 
 TRIFLE. 
 
 I SUPPOSE, the parfon of the parifh put all thefe 
 whimfies into your head : I hear he was very officious 
 in attending you. 
 
 HARRIOT. 
 
 His attendance in this exigence was indeed my 
 greateit bleffing. He acted becoming the prudence 
 and fandlity of his character ; nothing could be more 
 plain and fmcere, and at the fame time more gentle 
 and compaflionate. I believe he thought me paft hopes 
 cf recovery, and was embarrafs'd how to exprefs him- 
 felf in fiach terms, as might keep me from the oppofite 
 extremes of preemption, or defpair. 
 
 r R I FLE. 
 
 WHY you are quite in the fpleen. I begin to find 
 your diforder contagious ; if you talk on thefe fub- 
 jefts much longer 1 {hall be in the vapours. But,, 
 dear Lady Harriot, are you refolv'd to bid adieu to 
 Ombre and Quadrille ? 
 
 HARRIOT. 
 
 I AM yet but a young penitent, and dare not fpeak 
 too confidently ; but I hope, by the divine affiftance, 
 to keep my refolution : And to free myfelf from this 
 inchantment, by flying the temptation, next week my 
 Lord will carry me into the country. 
 
 TRIFLE. 
 
 AND there I hope you'll live like Lady Grace, in 
 Tbe Provoked Hi'.Jband, fpend your time in reading, 
 in walking by a canal, or fitting under a great tree. 
 O the infipid life \ I can't imagine how you will pafs 
 the tedious fummer, unlefs 'tis in catching butterflies, 
 er making cowflip-balls for your children. 
 
 HA R-
 
 DIALOGUES. 9 
 
 H A R R I O T. 
 
 I F my time had never been worfe imp'oy'd, I had 
 been freed from the inquietude that now diftrab my 
 mind ; while I refled on my own guilt, and the per- 
 plexities in which I find my Lord involv'd by my ex- 
 travagant condudt. 
 
 TRIFLE. 
 
 THIS is fuch a ridiculous way of reafoning, fuch 
 an unfafhionable manner of thinking, that I can't bear 
 it. Indeed, Lady Harriot, this ficknefs has hurt your 
 underftanding. You are good for juft nothing, but to 
 retire with my Lord to his old manfion-houfe in the 
 country ; for with thefe odd fentiments, thefe fingulari- 
 ties, you would make a ftrange figure in the Beau 
 Monde: Your retirement will be very feafonable. With- 
 out interruption you may there go to church, and fay 
 your prayers ; and inltead of loling your money po- 
 litely at cards, you may give it away in alms, and pro- 
 cure the infignificant bleffing of the poor and needy 
 with it, and get yourfelf the laudable character of a 
 very good Chriftian. 
 
 HARRIOT. 
 
 I WISH I may deferve it J that glorious title is 
 now all my ambition. It was but a. few weeks fince, 
 I would have given all that mortality can boaft, for the 
 
 privilege of fuch a charafter. A fine lady a toafted 
 
 beauty, gave me little confolation, when I thought my- 
 felf entering the dreadful dominions of death, turning 
 into a pale snd ghaftly carcafe, confined in a gloomy 
 
 vault among (keletons, worms and corruption : 
 
 Thefe were difmal fcenes to one that never before ted 
 a ferious thought of dying. 
 
 TRIFLE. 
 THESE are difmal fcenes indeed! I fhall dream of 
 
 nothing but ghofts and fpeftres this whole night. 
 
 I befcech you, Lady Harriot, let us quit this whimfical 
 B 5 fubjefi*
 
 io DIALOGUES. 
 
 fubjeft, and talk no longer of death-beds and fcput- 
 dires. 
 
 HARRIOT. 
 
 Do you really believe you {hall ever die ? or if 
 you ftiould live thirty years longer, are you fure that 
 you fhall be no older than at this prefent inftant ? 
 
 r R I FLE. 
 
 I Have not thought enough of thefe diftant events,, 
 to give you a pofitive anfwer. I am but a fhort- 
 fighted mortal, and never prefume to pry into futurity : 
 At prefent I feel myfelf in perfect health, in the bloom 
 of youth, without the leaft inclination to meditate on 
 death, or old age, as I have no fymptom of either. 
 Failing the prefent hour gaily is my grand concern. 
 
 Til felze the jocund moments as theyfy y 
 And all the ills of future fate defy. 
 
 HARRIOT. 
 
 A VERY prudent refolution ; could you flop there- 
 volutions of time, and command the fun to ftand (till. 
 
 7 R I FLE. 
 
 WELL, my dear, I have had a Efficient Memento of 
 mortality for once. And when I come to vifit you 
 in the country, I fhall expeft to find you in your clo- 
 fet, with a Praftife of Piety in your hand, and a death's 
 head and an hour-glafs before you j or if your devo- 
 tion mould take a more romantic turn, perhaps you'll 
 retire to fome grotto, beautiful in the height of negli- 
 gence, with your own fine flaxen hair falling over 
 your neck, like Mary Magdalen, in that pifture that 
 
 hangs by you. But I forget myfelf; you look as 
 
 if you wanted reft, and fo, dear Lady Harriot, I'll 
 tefcve you fans ceremonie. 
 
 D I A-
 
 II 
 
 DIALOGUE III. 
 
 Againft a life of pteafitre. 
 
 CLERIMONT. 
 
 I A M furpriz'd, filler, to find you have fpent this 
 whole day at home, and more, to hear you have 
 no evening engagement. Are balls and affemblies pro- 
 hibited ? or is the play-houfe lock'd up ? or was you 
 frighted with the fight of a ghoft, in your laft mid- 
 night ramble? 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 NOTHING of all this, I am only trying the novelty 
 of retirement. I have been running one dull circle of 
 vanity thefe five years, in which every week, and al- 
 moft every day, has paft without any variety, a mere 
 tedious repetition of the fame follies. 
 
 CLERIMONT. 
 
 BUT, my dear fitter, why would you put yourfelf 
 to the trouble of fo many experiments, before you 
 would yield to the conviclion of this great truth, that 
 all below the fun is vanity ? However, I am pleas'd 
 with the change, but a little furpriz'd to find you grown 
 fo wife in an inflant. This fudden illumination looks 
 more like the efFeft of caprice than of reafon. Pray, 
 Madam, from what hour lafl night may I date this 
 glorious reformation ? or what was the occafion that 
 you parted from the aflembly fo difgufted, and fo tir'd 
 of the world ? 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 To difguife nothing from you, brother, I fancy the 
 world grows tir'd of me. I have appeared fo con- 
 ftantly at all public entertainments, that people feem 
 weary of feeing me ; and every new face, tho* not, 
 perhaps, fo handfome as mine, ingages the attention of 
 aB the pretty fellows. J maybe as contemplative as I 
 
 pleal'c
 
 f-2 DIALOGUES. 
 
 pleafe in a crowd, no body troubles his head about me r 
 nor makes theleaft pretence to interrupt my meditations. 
 
 C L E R I M O N ?. 
 
 THEN, Madam, I may hope for the honour of 
 your company, in fome of thefe vacant hours. 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 REALLY, Sir, you have little obligation lo me, for 
 making your houfe a fan&uary from the contempt of 
 mankind. 
 
 CLERJMONT. 
 
 'Tis only the too great delicacy of your temper, 
 that makes this fuppofition ; time has not yet impaired 
 a charm in your face. But I have no defign to com- 
 pliment you with perpetual youth, nor would I have 
 you fancy yourfelf quite fo young, at fix and twenty, 
 as you was at iixteerr. 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 You would fooner perfwade me to reckon my age, 
 like the Egyptians, by lunar years, and fancy myfelf 
 fourfcore, 
 
 C L E R I M O NT. 
 
 THERE is a greater decorum in. fetting yourfelf 
 forward, than in going backward in life. For certain- 
 ly the fun does not fland {till, nor the year roll back- 
 ward, nor will old ruftic Time with his fcythe and 
 hour-glate, be perfwaded to flack en his fpeed, in com- 
 pliment to a fair lady. Declining autumn will foon 
 overtake your youthful bloom ; and however the fields 
 again renew their verdure, a beauteous face, once de- 
 cay 'd, never regains a fecond fpring. 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 WELL, "my dear brother, you fliall place me in 
 what fhuation you will. I have no reluclance to be 
 tliruft back to, the iaft broken arches in Mirzas vi- 
 fion, the gravity of my prefent temper fuits very well 
 with that period of life. You fhall forget I am your 
 filter, if you pleafe, and fancy I am your great grand- 
 mother, C L E-
 
 DIALOGUES. 25 
 
 CLERIMONT. 
 
 WHY really, Madam, I begin to have a great ve- 
 neration for you, and am delighted with the fagacity of 
 your temper ; you are mightily improv'd with one af- 
 ternoon's folitude. But, dear Mifs Bell, let me afk 
 
 you one queftion : On what terms did Carlos and you. 
 part, at your lail interview ? 
 
 A R A B E L L 4. 
 
 WHY, we parted, never to meet again. This is a 
 nice fubjeft, and I beg you would drop it, and nevea 
 name him to me for the future. 
 
 C L E R I M O N T. 
 
 I AM, Madam, your moft obedient humble fervanf; 
 and mail punctually obferve your commands. Jf you 
 keep this refolution, you will eafe my heart of its 
 weightieft care. 
 
 A R ~ A E L L A. 
 
 PUT yourfelf out of pain for my refolution. You 
 know great alterations feme times fpring from trivial ac- 
 cidents, in the moral, as well as the political world. In- 
 deed my conformity to the Beau Monde was often diC- 
 fembled and infmcere ; half my follies were rather the 
 effeft of affeflation than nature : I durft not prefume to 
 appear wifer or better than other fashionable people. 
 
 CLERIMONT. 
 
 I FIND then, 'tis ungenteel for people to be fn thefr 
 right fenfes, and that 'tis a ridiculous thing, to be wife 
 or good beyond the ftandard of the mode. 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 WHY really, brother, with your fobriety of difcourfe 
 and behaviour, you would make a very impolite figure 
 in fome mining afTemblies ; and you would find it ne- 
 ceiTary to make fome apology for being a reafonable 
 
 creature,
 
 14 DIALOGUES. 
 
 creature, and muft certainly excufe your intruding your- 
 felf among well-bred company, in your right fenfes. 
 
 C L E R I M O N T. 
 
 You give me a fine pi&ure of the modim world ; 
 and when I frequent thofe fhining afTemblies you de- 
 fcribe, I'll take care to afk their pardon, for not being 
 out of my wits, and make the beft excufe I can for 
 coming among them, without being dark mad ; but then 
 I mail expec\ fome apology from thofe gay animals, for 
 prefuming to walk ereft, and putting themfelves out of 
 the clafs of their four-footed brethren, who aft by in- 
 ftinft, and fport, and fight, and feed, and fleep, and- 
 
 die. But, my dear filter, let me afk you, how, 
 
 with your good fenfe and ftridl education, you have 
 been able to fpend thefe laft five years in gaming, dan* 
 cing, dreiTmg and fleeping ? Did you think this the end 
 of your creation, and the grand concern of a rational 
 and immortal being ? Or could you ever, at night, refleft 
 with fatisfaftion on one of the days fpent in fuch a< 
 wild chafe of vanity and extravagance ? 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 SINCE you will take on you the office of my con- 
 feffor, I think my felf oblig'd in confcience to fpeak the 
 truth. I have been fo far from reflecting with fatisfac- 
 tion on my paft conduft, that as foon as ever I found: 
 wyfelf alone, and at leifure for thought, the review of 
 my daily follies and indifcretions made me the moft 
 unhappy creature on earth. Sometimes my own ill* 
 addrefs, at other times the fancy 'd negleft of the com- 
 pany, funk me in the vapours; and often a fecre^re- 
 morle for the guilt of fo much time mifpent, banifh'd 
 fleep from my eyes, and peace from my foul. 
 
 C L E R I M O N r. 
 
 AND yet, like the fun, you could rife again in the 
 morning, and with frelh vigour begin the gtorious toil, 
 and run your diurnal race in the fame circle of vanity. 
 
 But
 
 DIALOGUE S. 15: 
 
 But after fuch a train of disappointments, what 
 could you promife yourfelf from" the enfuing day, be- 
 yond what you found in the paft ? 
 
 ARABELLA 
 
 I ALWAYS flatter'd myfelf that fome nice circum- 
 ftance, fome fortunate concurrence of events, which ne- 
 ver happen'd' before, would render the next entertain- 
 ment more complete than the laft. 
 
 CLERIMONr. 
 
 IN this fucceflion of vain expectations and blafted 
 hopes, the generality of mankind wafte their lives. 
 
 The hoary foo!,. 'who many day) 
 
 Has (t niggled nultb continual for r emu f 
 Renews his bcpes, and blindly /ays 
 
 The d.fp'rate bet upon to-morrow, 
 To-morrow comes ; "'tis noon, "'tis night ; 
 
 7 his day like all the former flies j 
 Yet on he runs to feck delight 
 
 To-morrow, till to-night he dies. PRIOR. 
 
 HOWEVER this caftle- building, this felf-delufion is 
 more excufable in the firft than in the latter part of 
 Hfe ; that declining feafon ought rather to be fpent in 
 a ferious reflection on paft errors, than in a vifionary 
 expectation of new enjoyments. You find I am grow- 
 ing grave, why don't you interrupt me ? What pam- 
 phlet is that lying in your lap ? 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 OH, a very moral treatife, call'd the Toy-flop. If I 
 did not refolve on a thorough reformation, I mould be 
 quke angry with the author for placing me in fach a ri- 
 diculous light to myfelf. Veny is quite out of favour j 
 nor has my footman carried a compliment to any lap- 
 dog of quality this morning. You- will give me leave 
 
 to
 
 16 DIALOGUE S; 
 
 to read a fpeech of the matter of the toy-fhop on this 
 fubjea. 
 
 HE R E's a dog noWy- that never eat but upon plate or 
 china ; nor fet his foot but upon a carpit or a cujkion. 
 Here's one too ; this deg belonged to a lady of as great 
 beauty and fortune as any in England; be was her mojl 
 intimate friend and particular favourite ; and upon that 
 account has rccei'v'd more compliments,- more refpecJ, and 
 tnore addrejjes than a firft minijler of ftate. Here's ano- 
 ther, which was doubt lefs a dog of jlngular worth and 
 great importance, ', fince- at his death one of the great eft fa- 
 milies in the kingdom were all in tears, . receivd no <vifits 
 for the fpace of a week y but font themft.l'ves up, and 
 mourned their lofs <with inconfolable farrow. This dog y 
 while he Uriel, either for contempt of his per/on, neglect 
 of his bujinefs, or faucy and impertinent behaviours in 
 their attendance on him, had the honour of turning away 
 upwards of thirty fer<vants. He died at laji of a cold 
 caught by following one of the maids into a damp room, for 
 which jbe lojl her place, her wages, and her chara&er. 
 
 I SEE, brother, you are delighted with this fatire. 
 
 CL E R I M O N r. 
 
 NOR can you be angry, my dear Mer, to find this 
 folly ridicul'd in a manner fo genteel and fprightly; 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 I AM rather pleas'd. Affe&ation is more eafily cur'd 
 than nature. This is a folly I can eafily put off: I 
 was only a mimick to Mils Mcdijh, being unwilling me 
 fhould outfhine me in any part of a fine character* 
 She lifp'd fo prettily, and talk'd fuch charming non- 
 fnfe to her littfe Shock, that it rais'd my ambition to 
 equal her in thofe nice accomplifliments. But I was 
 never fincere in my civilities to lap-dogs and mon- 
 keys. I may own to you, without detriment to my 
 underflanding, that I had always a fecret contempt foe 
 the whole animal race. 
 
 Left /;/V, 
 
 L E T-
 
 [ '7 I 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 PERSON of your merit, Sir, need not 
 wonder if you leave unknown friends in' 
 all company, and that you find one in- 
 terefted in your happinefs, to whom you 
 are almoil a ftranger. Some time fmce,, 
 I happen'd to be one of the company, 
 where your good humour .and wit was the greateft en- 
 tertainment : your fentiments were juit and agreeable 
 on every fubjecl, but one, and that (among a great va- 
 riety) chanc'd to be the immortality of the foul. I was 
 concern'd, I confefs, to hear you (in every thing elfe fo 
 reafonable) employ your arguments againft the dignity 
 of human nature, and the brighteft privilege of man- 
 kind ; without which reafon is our greateft curfe, an in- 
 feparable plague, and renders our lot lefs happy than 
 that of the brute creation, who purfue pleafures proper 
 to their faculties, without the tormenting remonitrances- 
 cf confcience. 
 
 WHAT
 
 1 8 LETTER 3. 
 
 WHAT advantage can you men of pleafure propofe, 
 in devefting yourfelves and the reft of mankind of this 
 privilege of immortality ? The profpect, perhaps of a 
 future hell may rnoleft your tranquility : but after all, 
 will confidence and raillery leflen its certainty ? Are you 
 arriv'd at a demonflration that there are no burning lakes 
 to punifh the vitious, nor celeftial crowns to reward the 
 virtuous? Are your principles grounded on unqueftion- 
 able evidence ? Or do you pretend to no more than an 
 equal hazard that things may, or may not be as you 
 wifh them ? Grant but this, and there is no excufe for 
 your extravagance. Were a future ftate but a mere 
 poflibility, 'twere madnefs to flake infinite ages of blifs 
 againft the pleasures of a day : Even, that fhort time is 
 wore than you can fecure ; you are altogether uncertain, 
 ef the next moment's fruition of thefe trifles you value 
 fo much for their being, what you call, vifible and pr&- 
 fent ; and of this you are as uncertain, as you think the 
 pious man is of all his vifienary hopes and fancy'd para- 
 dife. In one fenfe yours is as much a life of faith, as 
 Jus ; for whatever you boaft of the prefent, you are fel- 
 dom pleas 'd with it ; the greateft part of your happi- 
 nefs, as well as his, confifts in expectation and diilant 
 profpedls : Yet the good man has this advantage, that 
 his agreeable reveries will laft as long as his life ; and 
 death, which alone can rob him of the glorious ficlion, 
 puts him for ever out of a capacity of lamenting his 
 lofs ; while the libertine's golden dreams are perpetually 
 broken and' interrupted ; every new attainment convin- 
 ces him too fadly of his delufion ; fruition diffolves the 1 
 pleafing error, and leaves him in defpair of ever reach- 
 ing that point of happinefs which his imagination forms. 
 And if religion is a delufion,. 'tis the moii lalling and. 
 fortunate one in the world. But if there are indeed 
 fields of blifs and mades of love, infinite pleafures and 
 immortal day, you men of the world will find you have 
 made a fatal bargain. Or mould all thefe fine things 
 prove the tales of mercenary priefts, you are ftill the 
 Ififers; for it muft be acknowledged, that a licentious 
 
 lifa
 
 LETTERS. * 
 
 life is attended with greater mortifications than a reli- 
 gious one. How eafy are all the difficulties that virtue 
 exafts, to thofe which our own unbounded paffions im- 
 pofe ! The molt nice and refined luxury is accompanied 
 with exquifite vexation, and the fofteft idols of our 
 fenfe are our greateft plagues. Thofe toys, the women. 
 Sir, that you and I fo much admire, foft or fevere, 
 are our neceflary tormentors ; and we are greater fuf 
 ferers by their kindnefs than their cruelty. 'Tis true, 
 I have not much reafon to complain of their favours, 
 * mats, Monjieur, <vous etes utie homme fait a charmer Us 
 bellesy &f jcuir lei bonnes graces da femmcs. This is 
 your fnare, and that which damns half the race of 
 men. Could you efcape but this, you might yet attain 
 the Ikies, and bid fair for a celeftial preferment ; nor 
 need it coft you fo dear, as wholly to renounce the 
 charming fex j you are not forbidden an honourable and 
 lawful engagement, which has infinitely more charms 
 than the mercenary carefles of a wh re. To forfeit 
 an immortal paradife for the undiftinguifhing favour* 
 of an impudent coquet, is the moft defperate madnefsj 
 'tis to anticipate the torments below, and double one's 
 own damnation. 
 
 BELIEVE me, Sir, I have not written this from 
 an enthufiaftic zeal : 1 am no bigot, nor fanatic ; and 
 if you knew me, you would eafily take my word, that 
 I am no blind votary to the priefthood. What I have 
 iaid, is from a generous and humane fentiment, with a 
 defign worthy of that fmcerity and friendfliip which one 
 man of honour owes another. I beg you on this ac- 
 count to pardon the length and freedom of my letter ;< 
 for I think it would be no ill- breeding to moleft a fine- 
 gentleman,, if he had a mind to damn himfelf. How- 
 ever, I'll impofe no longer on your patience, but leave- 
 
 you 
 
 * But you, Sir, are a man made to charm, the fairy 
 and enjoy the good graces ef the ladies.
 
 20 LETTERS. 
 
 you with this quotation from one of the greateft mem 
 fn the world, Monjteur PASCAL contre f indifference dcs 
 
 * ENTRE nous r k del, 6f fenfer, cti le xeant, il > 
 a que la <vie, qui eft la chofe du monde la plus fragile ; 
 C? la del n 1 ctant pas certainetnent pour ceux qui dcubtent 
 fi leur ame ejt immortelle, Us nont a attendre que F infer,, 
 ou le r.eant. If ny a rien de plui reel que cela, ni de 
 flits terrible. Faijbns tant que nous iioudrons let braves,. 
 voila la Jin qui attend la plus lelle vie du monde. Ceft 
 en vain quails detournenf leur penfee de cctte eternite 
 qui les attend t ccmme s*ih la pcuvoicnt ar.eantir en ny 
 penfavt point. Elle fubfifte malgre fux, elle s" 1 advance, & 
 la mart qui la doit ouvrir, les mcttra dans peu de tetns 
 Jans rhcrrible necejfite d'etre eternellement ou aneafla'm 
 eu malheurtMx. 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 
 with all imaginable fincerityy 
 your humble fervant, 
 
 CARLOS, 
 
 * Between us, heaven and hell r or annihilation, there 
 is only this life, the fraileft thing in the world : And as 
 heaven, certainly, is not for thofe who doubt whether 
 their fouls are immortal, they have only to expeft hell, 
 or annihilation. There is nothing more realTlhan this,, 
 nor more terrible. Let us affecl: bravery as much as we 
 pleafe, this is the end of the happieft life in the world ! 
 In vain do they turn off their thoughts from that eter- 
 nity which awaits them, as if they could annihilate it, 
 by not thinking of it : It remains in fpite of them, it 
 draws near, and death that muft remove them into it, 
 will in a little time place them in thefhorrible necdfity 
 of being either eternally nothing, or miferable. 
 
 LETTER
 
 I 
 
 21 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 ALCANDER to CLERIMONT. 
 
 MUST reproach your unaccountable delay in an 
 affair of fuch importance, as I intrufted you with, 
 and which you are engag'd to accomplish, or lofe your 
 life in the attempt. And what is your life, that you 
 fhould deliberate on fuch a glorious occafion ? what 
 is your life, that you fhould balance it againft your 
 honour and confcience ? againil the prefent fafety and, 
 perhaps, immortal happinefs of the fair Lucilia ? Is it 
 fuch a glorious thing to breathe, to eat, to fleep, that 
 you fhould prolong your hours to fo little purpofe, and 
 lengthen your exiftence for fuch inferior ends \ 
 
 You can but die, my Lord, and confidering death 
 abftraclly as the period of human aftion, a violent or 
 natural death is juft the fame ; but confidering death 
 in another relation, a man that falls a facrifice in the 
 defence of virtue and the caufe of truth, has infinitely 
 the advantage of one who refigns his breath to the ne- 
 ceffity of fome fatal difeafe. 
 
 LET the event be what it will, you are absolutely 
 cblig'd to attempt the refcue of my fair profelyte from 
 the tyranny of her bigotted and fuperftitious guardian, 
 and to carry her into fome proteftant country. If you 
 fheuld abandon her in this exigence, me will be re- 
 duc'd either to deny the faith to which her foul af- 
 fents, and hazard her eternal ruin ; or by confefling the 
 truth, to expofe herfejf to the fury of blinded zeal. 
 
 TO this, you know, I fell a victim, and that in the 
 moft bafe and treacherous manner. 'Twas, 1 confefs, 
 roy Lord, with the utrnoft reluctance, that I accompa- 
 nied you in your travels to Rente, and nothing but the 
 
 abfolute
 
 22 LETTERS. 
 
 ;abfolute commands of my father could have vOmpelf d 
 roe to it. Such an abhorrence had I for holy fraud and 
 tyranny, fuch a contempt for the folemn fopperies of 
 the popifli religion, that I knew to what the opennefs 
 of my temper would expofe me. I had ballanced the 
 hazard, and refolv'd upon no confideration to part with 
 any integrity. I was unpractised in the arts of evafion; 
 my tongue always ipoke the language of my heart, 
 and would not for all the fun encompafs'd have utter'd 
 a known falfhood. In the common forms of ^onverfa- 
 ition I never deviated from the rules of fincerity ; but 
 where religion was concerned, I would not have pur- 
 chas'd life with all its joys, by the fhadow of a lie, by 
 the leaft equivocation. This was the refolution I made 
 at my entrance on the popifli dominions You was 
 often an uneafy witnefs of the hazard I ran, by mewing 
 an open contempt of their idolatrous proceflions. Yet, 
 perhaps I was to blame in treating their facred vani- 
 ties with an offenfive levity, when a ferious conviction 
 3iad been more fuccefsful : But I could not view their 
 confecrated trifles with any manner of gravity, nor con- 
 ceal my contempt of holy legends ; nor durft I incur 
 the guilt of fuch diffimulation as I faw praclis'd by my 
 own nation. I had many prefages of the fatal event, 
 while I fecretly defied hell and all its agents, their 
 flames, their rack?, and every infernal engine. A thou- 
 fand illuftrious witnefTes had trod the arduous path, and 
 Jed the way to glory : I rather courted than avoided 
 the happy deftiny, and fpoke and afted with the fame 
 liberty, as I would have done in a proteftant country. 
 
 THE freedom, however, which I took m converfa- 
 tion with the Cardinal * * * was with the greatefl fe- 
 curity. My frequent vifits to that generous man c;ave 
 me an eafy accefs to his beautiful niece, who frorrr the 
 gentlenefs of her uncle's difpofition found more liberty 
 than the Italian cufloms allow'd. From the moment I 
 faw her I lov'd her, and cculd not but obferve the at- 
 tention with which (lie liften'd to my difcourfes of -a 
 i reli-
 
 LETTERS. 23 
 
 religions nature. With a freedom becoming the inno- 
 cence of her thoughts, me gave me frequent opportunities 
 of convetfing with her : By this I difcover'd that the 
 virtues of her mind anfwer'd all the promife of her face, 
 and animated her outward form with fuch unrival'd ele- 
 gance and beauty, that even I, who have feen celeftial 
 perfection, ftill think her lovely. But 'tis her heavenly 
 difpofition that has kindled that divine affeftion, which 
 I dare avow in thefe ferene and holy regions, where 
 nothing impure (hall ever enter. She is not more th 
 care of her guardian angel than mine. 
 
 As Heaven gave my arguments fuccefs, and brought 
 the gentle convert from the darknefs in which me was 
 educated, I have a particular concern to fecure her 
 tender mind from any temptation to a relapfe into her 
 firft fuperftition. Her own fears, with my importunity 
 and affurance of the moft honourable protection, pre* 
 vail'd with her to confent to the plan I had laid for her 
 fecurity ; which I intrufted to your care, when I found 
 the wound was mortal, which I receiv'd from the trea- 
 cherous fryar, at the entrance of a monaftery. 
 
 BELIEVE me, my Lord, your confclence, your ho- 
 nour is engag'd to difcharge the truft I deliver'd to you 
 with my expiring breath ; and I renew my importu- 
 nity, that you would protect the helplefs maid, and 
 tranfport her to feme place where fhe may enjoy her 
 liberty, fafe from the terrors of the infernal Inquifition. 
 
 SHE is worth the care of angels, and 'twill be a 
 noble fatisfa&ion to your rnind, when you reflect that 
 you have protected fuch virtue. Thefe are aftions 
 which muft meet with approbation in the empyrean 
 court?, and are fubjedU worthy the admiration of the 
 fplendid focieties of heaven. Thefe beneficent fpirits 
 intereft themfelves in the affairs of mortals, and give 
 every generous attempt its juU and full applaufe. Adieu. 
 
 ALCANDER. 
 LETTER
 
 sifrwraa <rx& .1 - r . 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 Honourable Mrs. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 1 COULD not hold my pen to write to any perfon 
 in the world befides your Ladyihip ; but I am fo 
 tranfported to hear from you, and have fuch a mind to 
 fayfomething to you, that my foul exerts its utmoft 
 force, as refolv'd to conquer the weaknefs of my body. 
 - I have been a long time hovering on the very 
 edges of the immaterial world ; and tho' the profpect 
 look'd all dark and formidable, yet my foul could not 
 fancy herfelf on the very precipice of the inyifible 
 world, and ceafe to be inquifitive, any more than fhe 
 could ceafe to be a foul. My curiofity was fo great to 
 know how un- embodied fpirits aft, and what regions 
 they inhabit, that I could willingly have taken a leap 
 in the dark to be fatisfy'd. 
 
 We fee the waves, and bear the billows roar, 
 The dojhing rocks, and hollonu ivhijiling *uaind, 
 
 *Tis a (wide hap to that dark, dreadful Jbore, 
 And none come back to tell us what they find. 
 
 I CAN hofd up my head no longer, but yet, Madam, 
 I'll ftay to tell you (for perhaps i may never write to 
 you more) that the cold embraces of death mall never 
 freeze up the kindnefs I have for you : No, the facred 
 flame mall glow in my breaft to eternity. I'll be your 
 guardian angel, and leave paradife to converfe with 
 you ; and when fate (hall call you away, I'll be the 
 firft kind fpirit that mail greet yours, and with a thou- 
 land celeftial fongs welcome your arrival to the bleft 
 land of love ; and K> indear myfelf the more to you, 
 
 i A/y
 
 LETTERS. 25 
 
 My foil 1 1 will fo much conform to thine, 
 
 Thou fear ce Jkalt know thy own bright foul from mine. 
 
 AND now, Madam, farewel ; if I die I mall refigti 
 my breath as calmly as infants fall afleep, and with a 
 fpirit becoming 
 
 Tour friend and fer<vant. 
 
 P.S. 'Tis too much, that Mr. .. mould be 
 
 concern'd for my illnefs. My fervice to him, and tell 
 him I'll find him out among his brother angels, and 
 eatertain him with my fongs in requital. 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 JUST as your letter came, I was going to ta.,e the 
 air, inftead of flee!, for the fpleen, as you call it; 
 ut I rather flatter myfelf, that this chagrin is the pure 
 e ffe6l of reafon and reflection. I am tir'd with what- 
 ever I have yet enjoyed in the world, and expeft no 
 greater fatisfaftions here. And, for my part, I can't 
 amufe myfelf with trifles, nor relifh thofe iniipid things, 
 that, with the greateft part of the world, pafs for the 
 very eflentials of happinefs ; and were I never to enjoy 
 pleafures more fublime and rational, methinks, I could 
 this moment throw up my title to immortality. I am 
 cloy'd with all the impertinences that attend human life, 
 and long to know what novelties the invifible regions 
 have to entertain me with. I can find no guft in any 
 thing but the thoughts of being plung'd in immortii 
 pleafures, and being regal'd with infinite beatitudes. 
 
 VOL. II. C I HOPE;
 
 26 LETTERS.. 
 
 I HOPE, Madam, I need not afk your pardon for 
 growing ferious on a fubjeft like this ; fince to be other- 
 wife, when I believe myfelf upon the very borders of 
 eternity, would be a levity that my own reafon would 
 reproach me with for ever. 
 
 You ,may call it fpleen, or fancy, or what you 
 pleafe ; but I think it more reafonable to believe it the 
 impulfe of fome friendly fpirit, to prepare me for the 
 important part I am fliortly to aft. 
 
 IF you never hear from me again, beaffur'd, I (hall 
 carry my affeftion for you to the regions of peace and 
 amity, and cherifh the gentle difpofition till we meet 
 again. 
 
 " And if on earth ive tajie fucb Jkueets in lo<ve t 
 How boundlefs will its raptures be above ? 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 MY fervice to Mr. ^-; he talk'd of reading 
 
 CharnocK's fennons, but not knowing whether he'll 
 
 carry them to L , I did not fend them now ; but 
 
 tell him, if he will, he may fend for them to-morrow, 
 and keep them as long as he pleafes. 'Tis pity, when 
 there's fo much divinity in the world, people Ihould be 
 forc'd to read Ludlow's Memoirs on Sundays. 
 
 1 am, &c. 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 TLO the fame. 
 
 1697. 
 
 WELL, Madam, you mall e'en have it your own 
 way : I have the vapours, am loft in fpleen ; 
 for what elfe could put fuch odd conceits into my head 
 as thefe, that I am mortal, that the date of my life is 
 
 uncertain,
 
 LETTERS. 27 
 
 wscertain, that perhaps I may never fee another rifmg 
 fun, or before the clofe of another evening, 
 
 My foul may league this tenement of clay, 
 And to an unknown fomewbere ivtng its way. 
 
 Mr. NORRIS. 
 
 Future fecurities are indeed very impertinent cares, and 
 a box of pills is, without doubt, an excellent remedy 
 for fuch melancholy whirrdies as thefe. 
 
 BUT without raillery, Madam, mould I recover my 
 health, and get rid of thefe dangerous fymptoms, you 
 cannot tax me with fuperftition, for making the beft 
 provifion I can in a matter of fo vaft confequence. 
 While people are in their right fenfes, it cannot be art 
 indifferent cafe to them, whether they are to be happy 
 or miferable in an endlefs duration. 
 
 NOT that I think it neceffary to a future happineis, 
 to quit all the innocent enjoyments of life, or that I 
 am contracting fuch intimacies with celeftial beings, as 
 to grow indifferent to my earthly acquaintance. I am 
 not yet fo mortify'd, as you imagine, to human paffions. 
 There is an eternal propenfity in my foul to love and 
 beneficence : I received the generous principle with the 
 breath of life, and find it infeparable from my exift- 
 ence ; nor can time or diftance blot from my memory 
 the intervals of pleafurc I have enjoy'd in your con- 
 verfation. 
 
 BUT I have no more to fay to your Ladyfhip on this 
 fubjecl:, for I don't defign to engage you againft me too ; 
 therefore I defire your leave, Madam, to fay the reft to 
 Mr. for I have recollected myfelf now. 
 
 SIR, I am unwilling to lofe an opportunity of telling 
 
 you, that my inclinations to folitude are neither the 
 
 effects of melancholy, or ill-nature, or the narrow prin- 
 
 C 2 ciple
 
 28 LETTERS. 
 
 ciple of believing I was born wholly for myfelf ; much 
 lefs do they arife from any affected delicacy, or ambi- 
 tion of being thought better and wifer than other peo- 
 ple. I afpire to no character above that of a reafonable 
 creature. But you know, Sir, there are nobler induce- 
 ments to retirement than thefe j and if I tell you, that 
 I chufe it as the greateft improvement of my reafon 
 and morals, and the beft method I can find to be happy, 
 I hope you'll grant I have given you a very fair ac- 
 count of thofe refolutions, which you are pleas'd to 
 think fo fantaftic and unreafonable. I confefs, Sir, one 
 may think in a crowd, and make fome imperfect re- 
 flections ; but 'tis alone that you form your moft exaft 
 and impartial notions. 'Tis then you examine vulgar 
 prejudices, and reject the little principles of the bigotted 
 and fuperftitious ; 'tis then you fortify yourfelf againft 
 the tyranny of cuftom, and the impofitions of perfons, 
 who do a thoufand unreafonable things themfelves, and 
 gravely tell you, 'tis fingularity and ill-breeding not to 
 imitate them. 
 
 BUT then you tell me, 'tis poflible to think too much. 
 This, Sir, from you is an extraordinary caution ; yet I 
 as little fear being too thoughtful, as being too wife 
 or good : I am fure the more we exert the force of our 
 underflanding, the more clear and fublime our ideas are. 
 ,And fuppofe the won't, that thefe intenfe operations of 
 the mind fhould wafte the fpirits, 'tis in doing the bufi- 
 nefs of life apace ; and when our parts are acted, we 
 are ready to quit the ftage. Nor is it a long, but happy, 
 life which I would chufe ; and I am convinced that pri- 
 vacy is the moft likely way to make mine fo. 
 
 1 Nor by me e'er Jkall you, 
 You of all names the fweeteft and the bejt t 
 You mufes, books, and liberty, and reft, 
 You fountains, fields, and floods, forfaken be. 
 As long at life itfelf forfakss not me. 
 
 COWLBV. 
 
 HSRI
 
 LETTERS. 29 
 
 HERE my hours are absolutely at my own difpofal, 
 nor am I oblig'd to devote any part of my time, (that 
 invaluable time which flies, and never again returns) to 
 trifling and ceremony. Here I need not flatter the vain, 
 nor be tir'd with the impertinent, nor be confin'd to a 
 certain fet of infipid fubjefts, that have been drain'd a 
 thoufand times over. But here my thoughts can enter- 
 tain me with endlefs variety ; and when I am weary of 
 reflecting on the impertinent hurry that mortals make in 
 pafling to their graves, the fordid defigns of feme, and 
 the fplendid follies of others ; with the laft contempt I 
 e'en bid mankind farewel, and launching out into the 
 boundlefs ether, entertain myfelf with much more noble 
 and charming fpeculations. 
 
 / <uieiu the fpangled wonders of the Jky ; 
 
 Where I obferve, <witb an admiring fevfe. 
 
 Their motion, magnitude and infuence. 
 
 Ranging thro' heaifn s vaj} tract, methinks, 1 hear 
 
 Th 1 harmonious mujic of each tuneful fph ere, 
 
 S'warms of ne<w 'worlds difco<ver, and fur<uey 
 
 The fparkling glories of the milky <way. 
 
 NOIV thro 1 th 1 empyrean heaifn I freely rovfy 
 
 And feafl my fenfes on the throne of Jove, 
 
 View tbofe eternal manjtons, where the Heft 
 
 Are raft ivitbjojs too great to be exprejl. 
 
 I HAVE done, Sir, now, which I believe you'll think 
 very good news. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 C 3 LET T E R
 
 3 
 
 LETTER VI 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 IRECEIV'D your Lady/hip's- long letter, and another 
 fince ; they were both extremely welcome, but how 
 welcome I want words to tell you. According to your 
 Ladyfhip's order, I writ a letter, and fent it to Frome t 
 to inquire for fomebody that went to Sherborn Fair, 
 but could hear of none that defign'd to go. How- 
 ever, if they had, I fhould have order'd the bearer to 
 have left it at philofopher Fox's {hop, to have fav'd 
 Michael a few fteps. For the truth of it is, your La- 
 dyfhip had fet him a pretty odd kind of a tafk ; and I 
 warrant he aflc'd every fellow that flood with his mouth 
 open, his back againft a poft, and one of his legs 
 crofs'd over his ftaff, whether he liv'd at Frame ? and 
 if he did, whether he had no letter about him for 
 
 his lady?- However, the worft of it was, Michael 
 
 loft his labour; for which I am very forry, and fhall 
 never be eafy, 'till I think your Ladyfhip has receiv'd 
 this, to inform you that I was not only difappointed 
 then of fending to Sherborn, but likewife the Saturday 
 after to Bruton. For I am vain enough to meafure 
 your Ladyfhip's friendfhip by my own ; and if I am 
 deluded, I would not be undeceiv'd for the world ; no, 
 I'd rather indulge the bleft fiction 'till I die. And now 
 I think of dying, I defire your Ladyfhip to fpeak to 
 
 Mr. that, when he prays for long life for him-- 
 
 felf and his friends, he'd be pleas'd to leave me out 
 of his petitions, for I don't intend to ftand to them ; 
 no, nor to your Ladyfhip's neither, tho' I muft confefs 
 fixty years is a more reafonable time than an hundred. 
 However, I'll add my prayers to your Ladyfhip's, for 
 double the time for you. You are happy, Madam, 
 and will be fo, I hope, when I am lodg'd in a filent 
 grave ; therefore you may wifh for long life ; but
 
 LETTERS. 31 
 
 They merit not to live at all, 
 Who care to live unbleft. 
 
 I FANCY I have more news to tell you bdides this; 
 and fome of it is, that Sbud was here yefterday, and 
 Icdg'd here one night. He's fet up for a quack now, 
 and keeps all the markets, Dinah got a copy of verfes 
 from him, that was to be fent to his miftrefs ; and to 
 give you a tafte of his poetry, I'll repeat two of his 
 verfes to your Ladyfhip. 
 
 Then do but think, dear Madam, ho<w 1 fmart, 
 When all your darts Jlick hijfing in my heart ? 
 
 MUCH fuch another piece of poetry came yefterday 
 to kifs my fair hands ; 'twas brought by a man in a 
 blue coat, the colour of your livery. He would deli- 
 ver the letter himfelf, and before I open'd it, I afk'd 
 
 him whence it came ? he told me from L ; fo I 
 
 broke it open with all the impatience of love. The 
 hand was very much like your Ladyfhip's, and before 
 I look'd on the letter that came with the poem, I fell 
 to reading the verfes, and wonder'd at my heart what 
 had put your Ladyfhip into fuch an unlucky verfify- 
 ing humour ; for I muft needs fay, that I did not like 
 them, no, tho' I thought them your Ladyfhip's ; and 
 if any thing could have made me partial, that would. 
 But I had not read much of the poem before I had 
 the curiofity to look over your letter (as I then thought 
 it) but when I found a gentleman's name fubfcrib'd to 
 it (tho' I neither knew, nor car'd a ftraw who the gen- 
 tleman was) it put me into a rapture, and I began to 
 thank the ftars that your Ladylhip was ftill in your 
 wits. And becaufe you mail pardon thefe impudent 
 thoughts of mine, fee how the mighty bard begins :
 
 32 LETTERS. 
 
 When Ver began to peep from ether's coajts 
 On the terraqueous globe, and numerous hojis 
 Of arid, puddling objeSls all around 
 EncompaJJtng the frozen ground. 
 
 I'll fhew it you, if I don't die of a broken heart be- 
 fore I fee you again : But you fhall have a little more 
 of it now. 
 
 Lo ! Philomela does prepare to feng 
 
 Her warbling anthems to the joyful faring. 
 
 She peeps her radiant head 
 
 Up from her grafs-green bed, 
 And among circumambient notes, 
 She*s known from all their charming throats, Sec. 
 
 Poor Pegafus / thou waft never fo wretchedly rid before, 
 except when Sbud got aftride thee. 
 
 I THINK it will be convenient to leave room to fub- 
 fcribe myfelf 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 IF you knew the fentiments of my heart, you would 
 find no reafon to complain of me. Can you think 
 me fo ftupid, as not to prefer fuch converfation as yours, 
 to mufmg away my hours in a chamber, if I really 
 thought myfelf fit for fociety ? but my foul is perfeftly 
 
 untun'd,
 
 LETTERS. 33 
 
 untun'd, and you have more reafon to pity than re- 
 proach me. You may imagine, that converting with a 
 man of Mr. Rogue's elegant tafte and good fenfe, muft 
 have given me a perfect difguft to all the fociety this 
 country affords. I own it has had that effect, and I 
 love the town very well : But a gloomy turn of thought 
 gives me fuch an averfion to company, that all the im- 
 portunity of Mr. Reivers relations cannot make me re- 
 folve to go back to them ; tho' I have an affection for 
 them more tender than all the ties of nature. 
 
 I AM extremely pleas'd with the fine characters the 
 
 world gives of Lady and Lady : How 
 
 touch mud you merit, whofe example has given fuch 
 perfect patterns of virtue to the world ! I never read 
 the $fiffttttr, but T apply all his characters of a fine 
 woman to you. I don't ufe to make fpeeches of this 
 kind, you know, therefore you may depend on the 
 Sincerity of, 
 
 Madam, 
 
 Tcur, &c. 
 
 P. S. I hope by this time yon have procur'd Dr. 
 'cot's works ; for I am fure you'll be extremely pleas 'd 
 in reading them. I read lately, in one of his books, a 
 difcourfe call'd Chrijfs regal afls; where he treats of 
 the laft Judgment in fuch a furprizing manner, that no 
 poetical defcription can go beyond it. I know you will 
 be tranfported with it, and I fhall fcarce enjoy myfelf 
 'till you have read it. 'Tis in the fecond volume of 
 his Chriftian life. Pray make me eafy, and sead it as 
 foon as you can. 
 
 LETTER
 
 34 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 T<? the fame. 
 
 1717. 
 
 MY letters ought to be call'd epiftles from the 
 dead to the living, for I know nothing relating 
 to this world, to entertain my furviving friends with j 
 nor are people very fond of keeping a correfpondence 
 with ghofts and phantoms, or receiving intelligences 
 from another world ; and as there are no fhades in thefe 
 defolate regions of greater confequence than myfelf, 
 nothing happens remarkable enough to bear a recital. 
 When I was alive, I never was very fond of talking 
 of myfelf ; but being the greateft novelty in this place, 
 I am now forc'd upon the fubjecl:, for want of fome- 
 thing more considerable. *Tis poffiblej I find, to be 
 happy in the abfence of all that people call amufement 
 and diverfion. When the mind is in a fituation fupe- 
 rior to the changing fcenes below the fun, in purfuit 
 of boundlefs and immortal blifs, the foul with a noble 
 freedom afcends the celeftial heights, in fearch of its 
 great original, the fountain of its exiftence, and centre 
 of all its hopes. 
 
 All other joys are wjionary blifs, 
 Suf here is all fubjiantial ecftajy, 
 
 Bwt were thefe gay fpeculations a delufion, let me be 
 thus deceiv'd, 'till death (hall end the pleafing dream. 
 Were the Chriftian heaven as great a fable as the poets 
 Eljjium, 'tis a fable fo beautifully contrived, that I 
 would not exchange it for the gloomy fcheme of the 
 moil fagacious free-thinker ; rather let me indulge the 
 charming delirium, and entertain myfelf with the tranf- 
 porting fi&ion, 'till that and my exiftence meet their 
 ftnal period. 
 
 It
 
 LETTERS. 35 
 
 IF I liv'd among mortals, I fliould certainly know how 
 
 to direft to Lady ; but being in a ftate of fe- 
 
 parate exiftence, this ignorance is excufable : Yet, whe- 
 ther I am dead or alive, I am always, 
 
 Madam, 
 
 Tour, ScC. 
 
 I 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 1720. 
 
 CAN'T forbear exprefllng my concern for you un- 
 der this fevere afflidion of the death of my Lady 
 'Tis impertinent to reafon, and againil the 
 
 diftates of nature, or elfe you might fatisfy yourfelf 
 with the extraordinary charafter {he has left behind her, 
 and her reft from the misfortunes of life. 
 
 Thou beji of all thy fex ! impiety 
 Ilfelf would drop a f acred tear on tbee j 
 Had fa<vages thy gentle afpeft c vic f w t d, 
 Tofoftnefi all their rage had been 
 
 My concern is too fincere and tender, to fay any more 
 upon this fubjeft. 
 
 lam, &c, 
 
 r E T'T E R
 
 3* 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 70 the Honourable Mifs < . 
 
 MADAM, 1712. 
 
 I SHOULD be very happy, if I could perfwade myfelf 
 that you can be half fo fenfible of the want of 
 my company, as I am of the lofs of yours ; and I cer- 
 tainly make myfelf a greater compliment than I do 
 you, when I tell you, that I find your early wit and 
 pretty turn of thought perfectly agreeable and enter- 
 tainimg. 
 
 Tour growing tvt't Jhall gain immortal fame 9 
 And ev'ry mufe Jhall learn MirtillaV name ; 
 Nor lefs Jhall be the conquefts of your eyes t 
 When all your charms Jhall to perfeftion rife. 
 
 I OUGHT to take more pains about every thing I 
 write to you, than I have done about thefe lines ; but I 
 -know, Madam, you have good-nature enough to excufe 
 
 Your, &c 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 fo the Right Hon. the Countefs of , 
 
 1716. 
 
 I AM extremely pleas'd to hear you exprefs fuch a 
 tender concern for my Lord . I am glad 
 
 you are fo well acquainted with the power of a j'uft and 
 innocent paffion ; and I hope public diforders will never 
 interrupt yovy: happinefs, and that all your Ladyfhip's 
 
 fears
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 37 
 
 fears will foon vanifh. Virtuous lovers are the care of 
 heaven, and the guardian angels will proteft a man of 
 my Lord 's merit. 
 
 THIS grave way of writing, I am afraid, is not 
 very agreeable to your tafte, and you will think it the 
 difmal effeft of my fober contemplations ; but it will 
 be impoffible for me ever to be more gay, unlefs I could 
 forget Mr. Ro-iue, and I mail fooner forget myfelf and 
 all the world. 
 
 For him all thoughts of pleajure I forego, 
 For bint my tears Jhall never ceafe to jioiv. 
 For him at once I from the world retire , 
 To feed in filent Jhades a hepelefs fire. 
 
 BUT I muft, in charity to your Ladyfhip, leave this 
 fubjeft, and defire you to believe, that 
 
 1 am,, &c. 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 TLQ the fame* 
 
 1716. 
 
 TH E lofs of fuch letters as mine does not require 
 much apology. If I could" have wrote any 
 thing entertaining, I mould not have been filent, after 
 fo agreeable a letter as that I received from you ; but 
 I was not willing to put you in the fpleen, hi recom- 
 pence for the fatisfadtion you gave me. However I 
 fhall da it now, for I can't be eafy till I have filPd my 
 letter with thefe melancholy lines out of the tragedy oi 
 Jane Grey. 
 
 71712 *
 
 38 LETTERS. 
 
 My foul grotvs out' of tune t it loathes the world? 
 
 Sickens at all the noife and folly of it ; 
 
 And I could Jit me donvn in fame dulljhaae, 
 
 Where lonely contemplation keeps her ca*ve f 
 
 And dwells tuith hsary hermits ; there forget tnyfelf} 
 
 There fx my Jiupid eyes upon the earthy 
 
 And mufe away an age in decpeji melancholy. 
 
 IF this finds you foil of the fame tender fears you 
 
 had for my Lord when I faw you laft, 'twill- 
 
 but indulge your grief; but I hope you have now 
 more gay expectations. 
 
 IF you come to Witham? I beg you to remember 
 your engagement to fee me, which, however infipid all' 
 ether kinds of pleafure are to me, will be a great {atif- 
 fedion to- 
 
 Tour, &c, 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 fffl the fame. 
 
 1719. 
 
 I HE RE is not in the EngUJh hiftory a more 
 beautiful character than that of Lady Jane Gney ; 
 am not furpriz'd to find you charm'd with the 
 Jhining figure me makes in Mr. jfeir/'s tragedy. You 
 feem to have an equal foftnefs of temper, and a 
 refembling delicacy in your way of thinking. Your 
 fentiments had certainly been the fame with the young 
 heroine's, if you had the fame part to aft, that of 
 a martyr, which I hope you never will. Not that I 
 mould envy you that illuftrious character, or am at all 
 unwilling you fhould lofe your head, on condition you 
 could fet it on again with as much dexterity as St. Wini-.
 
 LETTERS. 39 
 
 fred, without the leaft difadvantage to your fine per- 
 fon. 
 
 I SHOULD have been too modeft to have troubled 
 you with the inclos'd, if I had known how to have 
 
 direfted to Lady . This ignorance would 
 
 be inexcufable in any other part of the world ; but the 
 honed people here know fo little where to find I ady 
 ', that they could not inform me where King 
 George himfelf refides. If I liv'd in a cave, I could 
 not be more ignorant of what pafles in the Grand Monde, 
 I have indeed fome imaginary regions of my own fra- 
 ming, feme poetical dominions ; 
 
 Where fancy in her airy triumph reigns t 
 And fyreads her gfty,. delujlve fcettes. 
 
 BUT I believe you will leave me to the unenvy'd en- 
 joyment of thefe vifionary worlds, without the leaft cu- 
 riofity to know what pafles there. 
 
 1 am, &c. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 70 tie fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR letters never fail to give me fome inter- 
 vals of pleafure, be the fabjeft what it will ; 
 but the pleafure is heighten'd to hear you exprefs fuch a 
 generous fatisfaftion on a public account, and the pro- 
 fpecl of the future happinefs and welfare of your coun- 
 try. I hope your fears for Lady are vandm'd 
 
 by this time, and that Heaven will long continue an ex- 
 ample of fuch early virtue to the world. But how un- 
 certain are human things L
 
 40 LETTERS. 
 
 -0 empty name 
 
 Of earthly blifs ! ''tis all an airy dream ! 
 
 I CANNOT but own, lam fecretly pleas'd that you 
 find the gay expectations from this world all deluding 
 and treacherous. You know, Madam, this is not from 
 any malice in my temper, for I wHh you all the hap- 
 pinefs that would not be prejudicial to pleafures more 
 noble and lafting. The juftnefs of your fentiments from 
 fuch early reflections, and amidft all the inchanting ap- 
 pearances of life, confirms me much more in a con- 
 tempt of the world than all Seneca's morals. 
 
 Grant me, O virtue ! thy mo ft folidjoy. 
 Grant me the pleafures of the mind, 
 Pleafures 'which only in purfuit of thee <we find, 
 Which fortune catinot marr, nor chance deftroy. 
 
 I am, 6V. 
 
 LETTER XV, 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 I SHOULD have wrote to your Ladyfhip before now, 
 but I thought your concern too juft and iincere, to 
 be treated with ceremony. Indeed I am ill qualified t 
 write epiftles of confolatiom The wife, doleful things, 
 that people vex their friends with on thofe occafions, ap- 
 pear to me more like a farce than a juft fenfe of their 
 grief. People may talk like good Chriflians at their 
 eafe, but pretty fentences and formal fpeeches are very 
 trifling remedies to a real and unaffe&ed forrow. 
 
 You
 
 LETTERS. 41 
 
 You fee, Madam, I am ready to juftify all your 
 toncern for Lady N ot that I think there 
 
 is any thing melancholy in an early death, after a life 
 fo virtuous. Your charming fiftcr has, in my opinion, 
 quitted the ftage very gracefully, and in all the decorum 
 of youthful charms and piety. Mr. Collier tells us in 
 his EJfays, that if the fun was never to rife again, it 
 would be much more glorious for him to fall from the 
 fkies with all his light and heat, than to gain a few 
 hours only to languifh and decline. 
 
 My thoughts are not at prefent intirely confident. 
 I have been reading my Lord Sbcftcjlury's Moralift, 
 which has fill'd my head with beauty, and love, and 
 harmony, but all of a divine and myfterious nature. 
 However fuperior his notions may be to my capacity, 
 J have been agreeably led on thro' I know not what in- 
 chanting fcenes of happinefs. I wifh you would read 
 it, for it would make you the moft charming and agree- 
 able enthufiaft in the world. Whether 1 am in my 
 right fenfes at prefent, I cannot tell, but you may be 
 affur'd 
 
 / am, Sec. 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 ICAN hardly read your Ladyfhip's letter for tears. 
 In the circumftances you are in, I can difpute none 
 of your commands, efpecially one fo agreeable to my- 
 felf, as that of waiting upon you, if in your gayer 
 thoughts you mould infift on it. If (as you fancy) I 
 yield with fome reludtan.ee, 'tis only on a felfifh con- 
 
 fideration.
 
 42 LETTERS. 
 
 fideration, becaufe I am unwilling to convince you, 
 that all your thoughts to my advantage are without any 
 foundation : for you will find fo little vivacity in my 
 converfation, that I believe this will be the lalt proof 
 you will exadl of my obedience ; but whatever be the 
 event, you may command me. 
 
 I AM afraid I fend the * inclos'd too foon, to renew 
 your grief, but not too foon, to exprefs my gratitude 
 and efteem. 1 dare not talk on this fubjed. 
 
 / am t &c. 
 
 LETTER XVIL 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 WH AT lhall I fay ? I would attend you, T 
 fee and hear you, tho' in a defart, if I knew 
 where to find you, or how to attain the happinefs ; but 
 alas ! the whcOe earthly globe is between us, and the 
 poles may as well meet. A horfe or a ftage-coach 
 would be fure deftru&ion, and {hatter my frame to 
 atoms, nor was I ever alone on the road : Yet I would 
 refufe you nothing, and if my Lord could fpare his 
 
 coach But I am afraid the projeft is impoflible^ 
 
 and I ftill hope I may have the happinefs to fee you 
 
 at . But you may command me to follow you 
 
 where you pleafe ; your convex fation is a pleafure which 
 will ballance every thing. 
 
 * An Elegy on the death of the Honourable Mrs. 
 -, printed in vol. I. p. 164,
 
 
 LETTERS. 43 
 
 THO' I never would perfuade people to forget their 
 mortality, I hope your remembrance of it is only the 
 fpleen. I would fain believe you have many happy 
 years to live ; and may Heaven crown them with as- 
 many bleifings as you can wifh. 
 
 &C. 
 
 LETTER XVIIL 
 
 7c the fame, 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOU will find, by the hurry I was in to leave 
 Hampftead, how little relifh I had for fociety,. 
 after I had left your Ladyfhip. Your converfation gave 
 me a perfect difguft even to the people I moft valu'd. 
 In this impatience, I follow'd the didates of my own 
 ungovern'd imagination, and left the town and all its 
 Joys this morning : After this, I need make no apology 
 for writing a fhort letter. If I had leifure, I fhould fay 
 
 a thoufand fine things to Lady- , (I may calf 
 
 them fine things in juftice to myfelf) but I am fincerely 
 griev'd that I loft the happinefs I proniis'd myfelf in 
 her converfation : Yet wherever I am, fhe may com- 
 mand me for writing or drawing what is moft agreeable- 
 |o her, ' 
 
 lam, &c. 
 
 LETTER
 
 44 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR fentiments are perfedlly juft, that 'tis more 
 glorious to defpife the world in the midft of 
 all its gay temptations, than to gain the viclory by a 
 cowardly flight ; but I am only a mere mortal, and 
 can't pretend to thofe celeftial heights of virtue. How- 
 ever, if I had been a Roman Catholic, I might have 
 got the reputation of a faint by this retreat ; but being 
 of a more reasonable religion, people will fooner im- 
 pute my retirement to diitra&ion than devotion. I be- 
 gin to fancy I grow as humourfome as Mo/iere's Mi- 
 fanthrope. If I had many vifits from the good gentle- 
 women hereabouts, I mould raife the price of hart/horn, 
 to keep me from fainting fits ; for oh ! I ficken, I die 
 
 or fleep and dream, and am perfedlly Itupify'd at 
 
 their approach. I would fain reafon myfelf into more 
 patience and compofure of mind j but this nicety of 
 temper grows upon me, fo that I ihall never be fit for 
 the fociety of mortals again. Your Ladyfhip's letters 
 are my only entertainment, in a place where there is an 
 abfolute vacancy of common fenfe ; and they give me a 
 pleafure in nvy own way, which is unmingled with fa- 
 tigue. I mould blame myfelf for being given up to 
 fuch a carelefs fort of tranquility, but 'tis almoft necef- 
 fary to my temper. I am impatient of all the conver- 
 iation, which happens in low life ; and in a higher rank, 
 I have fuch an averfion to every thing that appears fervile 
 and dependent, that even the neceflary formalities that 
 people are obliged to pay, grow tirefome and ridiculous. 
 Whether this proceeds from fome unconquer'd pride in 
 my heart, or from a confcious greatnefs of mind, I am 
 not willing to determine ; becaufe I have an inclination 
 to be partial to myfelf, and to make my faults pafs for 
 virtues. 
 
 MY letter is of a proper length, and after that, 
 
 lam, &C. 
 LETTER
 
 45 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 "TrOU will find, by the * inclos'd, how my 
 JL thoughts were employed in the little fit of fick- 
 nefs which lately confin'd me. My thoughts were on 
 this occafion very gay and ferene ; but the cafe was 
 only imaginary ; when it comes to be real, and in a 
 more gloomy interval, thofe unknown regions may have 
 a different appearance. But as to human things, my 
 concern for your future happinefs will be the laft care I 
 fhall refign. As for this world, you have as great a 
 fhare of felicity, as the moft beneficent temper can wifli 
 you, if wealth and grandeur can yield any real joy, and 
 have any thing in them beyond a fleeting vifionary ap- 
 pearance ; as they have not, if you believe the poet. 
 
 Short is the date, and narrow is the fpan t 
 Which bounds the little life of foolijh man. 
 Gay fcenes of blifs the ravi/frd foul furprize^ 
 Raife his vain hopes, and glitter in his eyes ; 
 Of facetting titles he fupinely dreams, 
 Vaft are his projefis, and refind his fchemes : 
 But ivhen his morning views of joy are paft, 
 Ihe melancholy enfning comes at laft ; 
 the tyrant death a hafy fummons fends, 
 And all his momentary glory ends. 
 
 Mr. DANIEL 
 
 You will not be difpleas'd, if I leave you now to 
 your own more gay foliloquies. Adieu. 
 
 The following letter. 
 
 LETTER
 
 4 6 
 
 LETTER XXI, 
 
 ?o the Right Hon. the Counters of~ - 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 WHETHER I have weeks, or days, or but 
 a few hours to live, Heaven only can deter- 
 mine ; but as from fome dangerous fymptoms, I think 
 sny time very fhort, I find a great deal of pleafure in 
 taking my leave of my friends in this folemn manner. 
 You may be affur'd the efteem I am now exprefiing for 
 you is fincere : I am paft the ceremonies of the world, 
 and therefore I cannot treat you with the leaft formality. 
 My thoughts have often vifited the manfions of the 
 dead ; the part I am now to perform has been fo fre- 
 quently afted over in my imagination, that I am not 
 difcompos'd to think, that in a few days the circum- 
 ftances may be real. 
 
 PEOPLE have generally a curiofity to know the 
 thoughts of their friends, when they are on the borders 
 of thofe ftrange and unknown regions, from whence 
 there is no return. 'Tis indeed a ferious thing to die ; 
 but virtue difarms the gloomy king of all his terrors, 
 and brightens the profpeft of futurity. 
 
 I HAVE read the Speftators on this fubjeft with con- 
 ftant pleafure, and have been charm 'd with fome in- 
 ftances of the Roman fortitude ; but the Chriftian religion 
 arms the mind with a refolution more juft and noble, 
 while it affures us with the cleared evidence, that an im- 
 mortality of happinefs is the reward of a pious life. 
 
 IF you hear no more from me, my dear eft friend, a 
 Jong ftdicu, 'till we meet in the triumphant feats above. 
 
 E. ROWE. 
 LETTER
 
 47 
 
 LETTER XXII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 NEVER was there a more exaft imitation of 
 Mrs. 's ftyle and way of thinking 
 
 than the paper you inclos'd ; every line appear'd like 
 the genuine product of her unguided imagination. I 
 hope his Lordihip will never take it into his brains to 
 mimic any of my effays, either in verfe or profe. The 
 very apprehenfion finks my fpirits. However, I am re- 
 folv'd to flifle all theie motions of modefty, and go on 
 thro 1 fenfe and nonfenfe to fill up my paper, defying 
 any peer in the realm to imitate my ftyle, unlefs his 
 imagination takes as many fhapes as Proteus, 
 
 How many unfuccefsful attempts I mall make in 
 tranflating Pajior Fido is yet uncertain. I condemn in 
 one moment, what I adnuYd but juft before : I write 
 five or fix verfes, and think them perfectly fine and har- 
 monious, worthy of Apollo himfelf, and never to be ex- 
 cell'd. I read them with approbation and rapture, and 
 do myfelf the higheft juftice ;- 'till on a more deliberate 
 view, I iink from my elevations, and grow exceeding 
 
 humble, to find every line dull and impertinent. 1 
 
 wifh the Pope would confer on me fome mare of his in- 
 fallibility, that I might make an unerring judgment of 
 myfelf; tho' I am afraid fuch a judgment would not 
 raife my vanity. 
 
 I PERCEIVE I am the heroine of this epiftle, ex- 
 cept the honour I have done my Lord in mention- 
 ing him. I continue to do myfelf honour by fubfcribing 
 myfelf 
 
 Your, Sec. 
 P.S. I
 
 48 LETTERS. 
 
 P. S. I have juft receiv'd a long and agreeable letter 
 
 from Mrs. , but my integrity has no effeft ; for me 
 
 will retain the word, faeetly, to her laft breath, and 
 give up her life in the dear harmonious found. 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I As fincerely thank you for wiftiing me fo many 
 new years, as a flave would for wifhing he might 
 long enjoy his fetters. Not but nature recoils at the 
 gloomy paflage, without the fupports that the great 
 truths of Chriftianity afford ; and even with thefe, the 
 fatal darknefs has often a thoufand imaginary terrors, 
 which are defcribed with great emphafis in the following 
 lines by an unknown hand. 
 
 ? be foul convulsed, 
 
 trembles in anxious doubt, and Jhudd"" ring Jlands, 
 Afraid to leap into the opening gulph, 
 Of future fate : 'till all the banks of clay 
 Fall from beneath his feet : In vain he grafps 
 7 he Jbatter^d reeds, that cheat his eafy irjijh. 
 
 'then the gay glories ef the living nvorld 
 Shall caft their empty varnijh, and retire 
 Out of his feeble view, while rifing Jhaaes 
 J/V how* ring on all nature's various face. 
 Mujlc Jhall ceafe, and injlruments of joy 
 Shall fail 'that fullen hour ; nor can the mind 
 
 jit tend their found t tvhen fancy Jkvims in death t 
 
 Corf-
 
 LETTERS. 49 
 
 Conftts'd and cruflyd <witb cares j for long Jball feeni 
 The dreary road, and melancholy dark. 
 That leads be knows not <where. > > 
 
 THESE grave reflections are, not perhaps, a-propos to 
 a fine lady in the bloom of youth, and amidft all the 
 blandifhments of a court : One would think I was wri- 
 ting to fome fober Diflenter, morrify'd to the gaudy va- 
 nities of the world : But really, Madam, my entertain- 
 ing you on thefe fubjefts is the greateft compliment I 
 can make you, and an unqueftionable evidence of a 
 friendfhip that forms wMhes for your happinefs beyond 
 ^11 the advantages this treacherous world can give you. 
 The flattering dream of life will foon be over, and all 
 'beyond is boundlefs and immortal. 
 
 Eternity, thou dreadful, pleajing thought ! 
 
 Thro' ivbat 'variety of untrfd being, 
 
 Thro' ivhat ne r w fcenes and changes mujl <we pafs ? 
 
 ADDISON. 
 
 HOWEVER, you may have no curiofity, at prefent, 
 to try what enjoyments the invifible region can yield, 
 *nd are too well pleas'd with your prefent flation, to 
 grow impatient to be above the ftars : But if you mould 
 forget that you are mortal, and born to die, it will 
 not be the fault of 
 
 Teur, &C, 
 
 Vo L. II. D LETTER
 
 5 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 2~0 the fame. 
 
 > r * "" I S well your Ladylhip has given me a full dif- 
 penfation from all forms and ceremony, and 
 that I have your permiffion to be as free and licentious 
 in that point as I will. If I was writing to any other 
 perfon of your quality, 'tis likely, I mould be as for- 
 mal as your mantua-woman, and might tack your title 
 to every fenteoce ; but in addreffing myfelf to you, I 
 am'apt to forget every thing but your real merit, and 
 can't help talking in a manner perfeflly unaffected and 
 fmcere. 'Tis quite different in my intervals of polite- 
 nefs. I find myfelf fo embarrafs'd with your dignity 
 and titles, that it cofts me more trouble than all the 
 reft of my letter ; it gives me a world of anxiety, 
 where to place the word, Ladyjhip, in its proper fitua- 
 tion, without fpoiling the mufic and cadence of a period ; 
 which would be a great affliclio^ to me, who am as 
 fond (and perhaps a little more fond) of found than of 
 fenfe. However, if I mould forget that I am writing 
 to a Countefs, I ihall not forget a thoufand other ad- 
 vantages which give your character a ihining ditfinftion. 
 
 YOUR Ladylhip will eafily excufc me for venturing 
 to let you pafs a thoufand times thro' my imagination, 
 with no other circumftance of grandeur than your own 
 innate merit. The charming idea, un-encumber'd with 
 the vain parade of ftate, entertains my thought with 
 the beauty of virtue and unaffected goodnefs. 
 
 I AM afraid you will think I am turn'd Quaker, and 
 am going to abfolve myfelf from all human rites and 
 ceremonies, both of a civil or religious nature ; and that 
 for the future I intend to live at large, in defiance of 
 all rule and method. But I hope this apology will be 
 an excufe for the future irregularities of, 
 
 Madam, Tour, Sec. 
 
 LETTE 
 

 
 5* 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 I'o the fame. 
 
 I WISH with all my heart you had married a fpi- 
 ritual Lord inftead of a temporal one ; I might 
 then have followed my own inclinations, and talk'd of 
 nothing but good things to you. I am now in a 
 very fober difpofition, and yet, in my own defence, I 
 mull appear worfe than I am, for fear of paffing for 
 a fanatic with a certain Peer of Great Britain. But 
 really one would not think it mould be a ridiculous 
 thing to be religious, nor that fubjedts of this nature 
 fhould look like the effecl of the fpleen. If there 
 is any conduct juft and reafonable, 'tis to purfue endlefs 
 happinefs, and fly from unlimited mifery. There can 
 be nothing whimfical in this fort of caution ; people 
 may as well laugh at men for endeavouring to fave 
 their lives in a fliipwreck, as to think it a jeft to be 
 ferious in an affair of infinitely greater confequence 
 than mortal life, with all its narrow interefts. But, as 
 the Italian Poet fays, 
 
 * Tanto ombra di fenfi il cor ofeura, 
 Cb^ama il momenta, e I* immortal nan cura* 
 
 IF this letter comes to your Ladyfhip in one of 
 your moments of vivacity, you will fancy I am very 
 much at leifure, to make thefe wife reflections, which 
 I humbly conceive you are not always difpos'd to read, 
 nor (to fpeak but modeftly) am I always inclin'd to 
 write. However, if I had as little charity for you as 
 you imagine, I ihould be very unhappy ; while I be- 
 D 2 liev'd 
 
 * So much the clouds of fenfe obfcure our thought, 
 A moment's priz'd, eternity's forgot.
 
 52 LETTERS.. 
 
 liev'd you in the paths of vice, it would difturb all 
 my peace in this world, and (according to my prefent 
 apprehenfions) be an allay to my joys in the next. 
 
 If you ivere ruined, oh / could I be Heft ? 
 Tell me, ye guardians of eternal reft. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 2"0 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 TH O' it has been fome relief to you, it has been 
 a great mortification to me, to keep filence fo 
 long ; and I mull fpeak or die : It would coft me a 
 fit of ficknefs, not to utter my impertinence. I have 
 been reading a difcourfe on happinefs, and the plea- 
 fure will be loft, if I don't give your Ladylhip a {hare 
 in it. 
 
 * Tons les bommes dcfirent d^etre beureux, cela eft fans 
 exception ; la volant e ne fait jamais le moindre demarche, 
 que wrs cctte objet. Otft la motif de toutes les aflions 
 de tous les bommes, jusqu'a ceux qui fe pendent.- 
 Thofe that live in courts, that fly to defarts ; thrfe 
 that chufe the fteep afcent to the ftars, or the eafy 
 paths to the fhades below, have all the fame defign. 
 
 1 am 
 
 * All men, without exception, defire to be happy; 
 the will never makes the lead ftep, but towards this 
 objeft : 'Tis the motive of all the aftions of every 
 jaan, even of thofe who hang themfelves. Mr. PA s c A L.
 
 LETTERS/ 53 
 
 I am purfuing my own happinefs now, but I am afraid 
 not yours, unlefs it will be any fatisfadlion to you to 
 know, that I am exceedingly interefted in Lord 's 
 health, and hope he has got rid of his cold. I never 
 tell lies in compliment, nor in the gaiety of my heart ; 
 you may believe me when, I affure you, I have ca- 
 refs'd every little clean child that I have feen of his 
 age, with the imagination it look'd him. 
 
 I SHALL not be eafy till you order Mrs. 
 to let me know you are recovered from the indifpofition 
 your LadyftiipcomplaiVd of in your lall obliging letter. 
 If you had not all the merit the fex can boait of, I 
 ftiould blame myfelf ; if I am fond of any thing on 
 earth to an excefs, 'tis of you. If I could help it, you 
 (hould not engage fo many of my thoughts as you do ; 
 but the obligations of reafon and virtue are unalterable, 
 nor is it poffible for me to exprefs with what fmcerity 
 
 lam, See. 
 
 P. S. THIS letter is neither fenfe, nor grammar, 
 nor legible ; and I am undone if ever it falls into Mr. 
 's hands. 
 
 LETTER XXVII. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I WISH with all my heart you were fincere, when 
 you tell me, that one letter of mine is worth 
 twenty of yours ; I would certainly exaft the debt, 
 without any confcience or modeity, 
 
 D 3 HAVE
 
 54 LETTERS. 
 
 HAVE you made a vow, never to fpeak one word 
 of Lord to me ? You will not fo much as 
 
 let me know, whether he laughs or cries, fleeps or 
 wakes ; if" he's airy and gay, or grave and ferious ; 
 and yet you know I love him dearly, and wifh him 
 the height of happinefs in the poileffion of his bells 
 and rattles, and all the variety of his play- things. 
 
 MR . continues his defign of writing a poem 
 on the infcription of the Athenian altar, To the unblown 
 God. Whether the Deity is known or unknown, Mr. 
 PASCAL has made a very juft reflection on this fub- 
 
 * IL y a que deux fortes de perfinnes, qifon puife 
 appfller raifonnables ; ou ceux qui fervent Dieu de tout 
 Lur ceevr, parcequ'ils h connoijjent ; ou ceux qui le cher- 
 chent de tout hur eazur, parctquils r.s le connciffent pas 
 encore. 
 
 I DARE not determine to which of thefe ranks Mr. 
 - - belongs ; the giving him the character of a 
 faint, I am fure he would take for a very odd fort of 
 compliment. But while I am at a lofs to refolve in 
 what clafs he is to be plac'd, I may with great certainty 
 fubfcribe myfelf, 
 
 Madam, your, &c. 
 
 * There are but two forts of perfons whom we can 
 call wife; thofe who ferve God with all their heart, 
 becaufe they know him ; or thofe who feek after God 
 with all their heart, becaufe they do not yet know 
 him. 
 
 LETTER
 
 55 
 LETTER XXVIII, 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 I AM obliged to anfwer, fince you think it worth 
 your pains to afk me, if I have any defign of feeing 
 you in the town or country. In the beginning of 
 winter I had fome thoughts of being at Hampjiead in 
 March, but have now difmifs'd all thofe gay expe&a- 
 tions. One hour's dlforder, to me, is an immediate 
 mortification to all the pleafures of life, and at prefent 
 I am ill of a violent cold. Tins trifling indifpofition 
 darkens the fair creation, and blots every charm from 
 the face of nature, diffolves the um'verfe, and puts a 
 full end to all human affairs. I neither hope nor fear, 
 contrive nor defign any thing that relates to this mor- 
 tal ftate ; but am as much at reil as the people that 
 are fieeping in their fepulchres, and am in fome doubt 
 whether I belong to the fociety of the living or the 
 dead. 
 
 As a little diforder kindles up the quickeft appre- 
 Jienfion of the important moment, when I muft bid 
 adieu to all human things, I can't but own the profpeA 
 had a folemnity in it beyond what I could conceive in 
 the hours of health. 
 
 Some courteous ghofl, tell this great fecrefy, 
 
 What "'tis you are, and <we muft be. 
 You ivarn us of approaching fate, and *wby 
 May *we not know from you <wbat "'tis to die ? 
 But you, having jbot the gulph, delight to fee 
 Succeeding fouls plunge in with like uncertainty, 
 
 When lifers clofe knot, by ivrit from 
 Difeafe Jhall cut, or age untje ; 
 
 D 4 When.
 
 56 LETTERS.. 
 
 When after fame delays., fame dying Jlrife, 
 
 The foul Jiatids Jhiv'ring on the ridge of life ; 
 
 With what a dreadful curiojtty 
 
 Does fhe launch out into the fea of i<aj} eternity ? 
 
 THO' thefe lines are not fmooth, the fenfe of them 
 pleafes me extremely. 
 
 I CAN fend you no intelligence from wilds and de- 
 farts, but whether I am in the world, or out of it, 
 
 j? am, &c. 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 NEVER was there a more agreeable letter than 
 your laft; if you always reafon fo juftly when 
 you are going to fee a play, the diverfion will never 
 be dangerous. Of all public entertainments, a tragedy 
 to me would be the mofl agreeable and inchanting ; 
 but I mall never repent that J have fo ftriclly kept my 
 promife, not to fee any performance of that kind ; 
 unlefs my high delight the opera was a breach of it, 
 AS I am a little afraid it was. 
 
 THERE is a poem in blank verfe lately printed, call'd 
 Winter, by Mr. Thomfon; 'tis very fine, fo that I am 
 perfuaded it will pleafe the juilnefs of your tafte. I 
 mult copy this description : 
 
 THE year yet pleajtng, but declining faft t 
 Soft o'er the fecret foul in gentle gales 
 
 a
 
 LETTERS. 57 
 
 A philofophic melancholy breathes 
 
 And lean the fuelling thoughts aloft to heaven. 
 
 O H / hear me then to high- embowering Jhades, 
 To twilight groves, and vijionary -vales t 
 To ^weeping grottoes, and to hoary calves j 
 Where angel forms are feen, and voices heard, 
 Sighed in low nuhifpers, that aitral the foul 
 From outward fenfe far into worlds remote. 
 
 YOU'LL give me leave to make my compliments to 
 
 Lady , and to Lord >, if he is yet a 
 
 reafonable creature. 
 
 1 am, Sec. 
 
 LETTER. XXX. 
 
 the fame. 
 MADAM,, 
 
 YOU command my paffions how you pleafe, and 
 put me in the fpleen, for no other reafon, but 
 becaufe you are in a melancholy difpoiition yourfelf. I 
 am not apt to flatter people that they are immortal, but 
 I am fully perfuaded, that you will foon fee your fears 
 of death end in perfedt health, and as much happinefs 
 as this world can give you. I hope your Ladyfhip will 
 write in a more chearful flrain by the next poft, and 
 I'll endeavour not to trouble you fo often with my let- 
 ters ; but I can't grow indifferent to the pleafure of con- 
 verfmg with you : However, I'll attempt it, in charity 
 to your Ladyfhip, 
 
 D 5 I HAVE
 
 $8 LETTERS. 
 
 I HAVE not forgot Lady ? s fparlding eyes 
 
 and mufical voice, tho' I have met with nothing fair 
 enough to reprefent her to my imagination ; as I have 
 
 for my Lord , whofe place is fupply'd by a 
 
 little child I have met with as fine as vanity can make 
 it, and as fair and beautiful as a cherubin. 
 
 I SEND you this copy of verfes, becaufe I was pleas'd 
 with both the fenfe and found. 
 
 * Vanita della vita prefents. 
 
 E fame cbe Jcende, 
 
 pofa non ba\ 
 mar cbe Pattende, 
 
 II fempre Ji fa, 
 
 E nave cbe paffa, 
 
 Ne toma mai ptu, 
 Et orma non lajfa y 
 
 Da dirfi> qui fu. 
 
 E rapido ftrale, 
 
 Che appena fcocco, 
 Cbe il punto finale 
 
 Feloce toao. 
 
 * fhe vanity of human life. 
 
 A river pouring down the mountain's fide ; 
 .An ocean rolling on its rapid tide ; 
 A fhip, that fwiftly driv'n before the wind, 
 Returns no more, nor leaves a trace behind ; 
 A winged arrow, that the bow fcarce bent, 
 Faft flies, and trembles in the mark it meant j 
 
 Light-
 
 LETTERS. 59 
 
 E lampo che t'Jio 
 
 Che gli occhi fcri, 
 Tra rombre nafcoJJo 
 
 Da gli occhi f-vani. 
 
 11 fol che fovente 
 
 Ritrova eccidente t 
 Dime hebbe la culla, 
 E nan fo che y cbe fi riduce al nulla, 
 
 I am, &c\ 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 IF mortals invention was not limited, and I could 
 write always fomething new and entertaining, your 
 Ladyfhip mould never reproach me for my filence ; but 
 nnlefs I fay the fame things again, and tire you with 
 eternal repetitions, I muft relieve myfelf fometimes, by 
 
 managing 
 
 Lightning, that while it breaks with flaming blaze 
 
 Quick on the eye, is vanifli'd from the gaze ; 
 
 A fun, that darkened oft' at dawning light 
 
 By fudden clouds, finds e'er his noon, his night ; 
 
 A momentary dream, a palling thought, 
 
 I know not what, that inftant finks to nought, 
 
 ' Are emblems, that wiih femblance apt difplay 
 
 * Our earthly courfe : So flits our life away !
 
 60 LETTERS. 
 
 managing my ftock ; for my genius is almoft exhauftedv 
 and as to any thing of wit I am ready to give up the 
 ghoft : Nor is it poflible in this heathenifh country to 
 fupply'my indigence, and get frefh recruits. This is not 
 your Ladyftiip's cafe ; when you don't write, it is pure 
 malice and deliberate ill-nature ; you can write the hi- 
 ftory of the prefent age. 
 
 THE poem of the Horn -book fs too wicked for you j 
 
 but I am fure it would have pleas'd my Lord , 
 
 but 'twas too profane : And to put it out of my power 
 to give him fuch a criminal diverfion, I fent it back to 
 the perfon from whom I had it ; and indeed it was not 
 a fmall piece of felf-denial to rue. But when I have 
 told you, I am extremely concern'd to hear my Lord 
 has been fo ill of the gout, I'll copy fome moral lines 
 to make his Lordfliip fatisfa&ion for the very unchriftian 
 wit I would; not tranfcribe. 
 
 What are diftinSlion, honour, wealth and ftate, 
 'The pomp of courts and triumphs of the great ; 
 'The numerous troops, that tnvy'd thrones fecure t 
 jfnd fplendid enjigns of imperial paw 1 r ? 
 What the high palace reared with vaji expence, 
 ~Unri<uaWd art, and luxury immenje, 
 With jlatues grafd by antient Greece fupplyd, 
 With more than Perfian wealth and Tyrian pride ? 
 
 L ET laurel wreaths the vigor's brow adorn t 
 Sublime thro 1 gazing throngs in triumph born : 
 Let acclamations ring around the Jkies, _ 
 While curling clouds of balmy incenfe rife : 
 Let fpoils immenfe, let trophies gained in war t 
 And conquered kings attend his rolling car i 
 Jf dread of death ftill unfubdtfd remains, 
 Andfecret e'r the <vawjuij}id viftor reigns,
 
 LETTERS. 61 
 
 TV illuftrious Jlave in endlefi thraldvin bears 
 A heavier chain than his led captive 'wears. 
 
 BLACKMORE. 
 
 I BEGIN to defpair of feeing Mr. Roltfs Milton: I 
 am in a very probable way to make my exit, and hear 
 the true relation of the fall of angels from fome of the- 
 aters, before his ftory is told. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 LETTER XXXII. 
 
 2"<? the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 ISENT your Ladyfhip a pacquet by the laft poft y 
 which was not receiv'd, when you did me the ho- 
 nour of your laft. Whenever I delay, 'tis only from 
 a fear of being impertinent, and when I write, 'tis with 
 a felfifh defign to procure an anfwer ; for, without any 
 compliment, your letters are the moft agreeable enter- 
 tainment of my life. I never read them without a ge- 
 nerous grief, that the public does not mare in the plea- 
 fure and profit they give me. 
 
 I SHALL never make a vow that will coft me fo dear, 
 as converfmg no more with you ; 'tis too great a height 
 of mortification, to break a friendfhip with one of the 
 jnoft generous and agreeable perfons in the world. I 
 don't ufe to flatter people, but I am forc'd to fpeak 
 the truth in my own juftification ; for I had rather half 
 the human race ihould think me ftupid, than have your 
 ill opinion, 
 
 THS
 
 62 LETTERS. 
 
 THE Italian tragedies your Ladyfhip has been fo 
 obliging as to fend, will be a moft agreeable entertain- 
 ment in fome of my peaceful hours. There is fome- 
 thing in tragedy fo great, and fo fuperior to the com- 
 mon way of life, tliat in reading, tho' I can't fancy my- 
 felf a princefs, I very often wifh for the regal dignity, 
 that 1 might fpeak in the fublime, and acl the he- 
 
 Ma. Rolli will oblige me, to keep his elegy on 
 my death 'till a more proper feafon, becaufe I am at 
 prefent alive ; and yet I almoft wifh myfelf dead, to be 
 lamented in his agreeable ftrains j it really flatters my 
 vanity." I intend to leave him a mourning ring with 
 this motto, Prepare to follow me. He'll have patience 
 to read fo much divinity as may be comprehended in 
 the pofy of a ring, tho' the fight of a folio would fright 
 him. 
 
 WH Y are you fo carelefs of your health, Lady ? 
 you don't confider the confequence of your life to the 
 world . You muft take pains to get fuch violent 
 colds. I can't prefcribe dofes ; but I am fure, if my 
 wifhes are pious enough to reach the ikies, you will 
 be fecure of every bleffing. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER XXXIII. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 
 5AM not furpriz'd to hear that fuch a life as Mr. 
 's mould have fuch a glorious conclusion ; 
 
 that after fuch a ferene day, his fun fhould fet in fmiles 
 and beauty. I can hardly forbear congratulating his 
 friends on the happy occafion ; nor is it poffiblc to read 
 your account, without envying fuch a composed and 
 graceful exit. Compar'd to this, what a mean and de- 
 fpicable fgure muft an infidel make, when juft about 
 to try that grand peut-efre, that important perhaps, on 
 which infinite happinefs or mifery depends ? 
 
 TWAS a more glorious profpeft that calm'dthean- 
 guim of your dying friend, footh'd his pains, and 
 brighten'd his face with a fmile, in the laft agonies of 
 
 nature. But what was the next transporting fcene 
 
 which open'd on the juft unfetter'd mind ? with what 
 triumph was it introduced among the great immortals ? 
 with what inlargemcnt is the gentle fpirit now wan- 
 dering 
 
 Thro' boundlefs realms of blifs t 
 
 Where pleafure blojfoms with eternal faring j 
 
 Enjoyments made immortal by defire,, 
 
 And joys that JiO c vu on joys ? 
 
 Thefe verfes are borrow'd from a tragedy of Otway's ; 
 you'll pardon me for pen-citing them to a purpofe 
 fomewhat more pious than the author deiign'd. 
 
 I A M my Lord 's and Lady "s humble 
 
 fervant ; but at prefent my Lord is my hero. 
 
 I am told he is the moil beautiful thing under the fun : 
 Above it I fuppofe he has fome rivals. 
 
 Where
 
 64 LETTERS. 
 
 Where fmiling feraphs touch the goldtn ftring t 
 And rofy cherubs foft refponfes png. 
 
 A-PROPOS, now I am in the fublime, I'll let you 
 know how much I wifh'd to converfe with you laflr 
 night, while I was looking at the Northern Streamers. 
 The fkies feem'd all in a glorious confufion. I muft 
 own the novelty of the fcene pleas'd me beyond the 
 regular beauty of the moon and ftars. When time has 
 run his courfe, fuch a glittering diforder, perhaps, will 
 be the prelude to the general diffolution of nature. 
 However, I could not but form in my imagination the 
 grandeur of that period, when the powers of heaven 
 fhall be fhaken, and the wreck of the univerfe fhall 
 grace the triumphs of the day ; and as I am exceed- 
 ingly pleas'd with Dr. Toung's defcriptions on this fub- 
 jecl, I am glad of an excufe to repeat them. 
 
 Heav'n opening all its facred pomp difplayf. 
 The triumph rings, arch-angels Jhout around, 
 And echoing nature lengthens out the found. 
 Ten thoufand trumpets now at once advance, 
 Ncnu dtepeft fihnce lulls the vaft expanfe ; 
 So deep thejtlence, and foj} rang the blajt, 
 As nature dy'd, nuhenjhe had groan d her lafl ' :' 
 tfor man nor angel moves - The Judge on high 
 Looks round, and with his glory Jills the Jky, 
 Not guilty fear, not fancy's felf can draiu 
 A meeting more auguji : Of greater a e we t . 
 Perhaps, thro' 1 all eternity has been 
 Sy Godhimfelf nought more tremendous feen. 
 
 HOW <vaft the concourfe! not in number more 
 'The waves that break en the refunding Jhore,
 
 LETTERS. 65 
 
 The leaves that tremble in- the Jhady gro-ve y 
 'The lamps that gild the fpanglcd vault above v 
 Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds overflew 
 The mighty plain, and deluge all below ; 
 And t<vry age and nation pour along, 
 Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng : 
 Adam falutes his youngefl fan ; no jlgn 
 Of all thofe ages, that thfir birth disjain. 
 
 ONE would think this poem was not printed, cr 
 that I was willing to fave you the expence of buying 
 
 it. You will read my letters for the future, on no 
 
 days but Sundays: However, I am very modeft, and 
 your commands will eafily filence 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 20 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I AM under an unhappy neceffity, at prefent, of dif- 
 obeying your Ladylhip's commands. However, I 
 am refolv'd to make a virtue of this neceffity, and be 
 as ftoical as I can on the occasion. In order to this 
 attainment, I have been reflecting on the uncertainty of 
 human fatisfa&ions, and placing you among the vanities 
 beneath the fun, I have nicely ballanced the pleafure 
 and fatigue, that attend every earthly joy, and fortify'd 
 my mind with many a wife maxim in profe and verfe. 
 
 ''Tis expectation only makes us bleft, 
 Enjoyment difappoints us at the beji. 
 
 But
 
 6 LETTERS. 
 
 But as Monfienr Pafcal fays, * Vexemble ne nous infinite 
 point ; il nc/t jamais fe parfaitement femblable, qifil n"y 
 ait quelque delicate difference ; & Sejl de la que nous at- 
 tentions que notre efperance ne fera de$iie en cette occafeon, 
 fomme en rautre. 'Tis certainly nothing but this ima- 
 ginary difference, fome delicate distinction, Come untry'd 
 circumftance, that makes us repeat the fame experiment, 
 and tire ourfelves with a fairy chafe 'till life comes to 
 a period : .And tho' you are at a great diftance from 
 this, 'tis time for me to grow wife, on paft experience, 
 and fairly to give up my hopes, without the fatigue of 
 any further trial , 
 
 YOUR Ladylhip wiH tell me (for I am refolv'd to- 
 fpeak for you, as well as myfelf } that I might have 
 excus'd my difobedience to your commands, without 
 this tedious moral lecture on the fubjecl. 
 
 BUT with all thefe fair pretences, I am afraid I fhall 
 hardly keep the character of a reafonable creature. 
 There is fomething in your converfarion fo elegant, fo 
 agreeable, that it looks like ftupidity, to lofe the op- 
 portunity of enjoying it : And I muft own the hours 
 
 were wing'd with pleafure that I fpent at . But 
 
 this is only humanly fpeaking, and with regard to the 
 prefent wor'd ; for I can't carry the compliment fo far, 
 as to fay it made me more fit for the next, that I 
 found myfeif mortify'd to- the love of tranfitory things,, 
 and better prepar'd to die, while I was with you. It 
 had quite the contrary effect; I was never more attach'd 
 to earthly objefts, nor more unwilling to leave them. 
 I found a perfeft complacence for things below, and 
 loft my relim for fuperior joys. I begun to be in love 
 
 with 
 
 * Experience does not make us wifer : Cafes are ne- 
 ver fo perfectly fimilar, but there remains fome nice 
 difference ; and hence we expect that our hopes will not 
 be deceived in this, as on former occafions.
 
 LETTERS. 67 
 
 with this vain world, and was very much difpos'd to 
 take up my reft in it. Your converfation had intirely 
 reconcil'd me to life, and given me a tafte for its enjoy- 
 ments ; and I am hopelefs of conquering my inclina- 
 tions for thefe fublunary things, 'till you are forgot 
 
 *>y> 
 
 Madam, 
 
 Tour, & c . 
 
 P. S. IF I afiure my Lord > , that one reafon 
 
 of my directing my letters to him, is the pleafure of 
 writing his name ; iuch a well-bred excufe will, 1 hope* 
 obtain his Lordfliip's pardon. 
 
 LETTER XXXV. 
 
 'To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 I MUST exprefs myfelf very aukwardly, if anything 
 J faid could bear the fenfe yoar Ladymip has given 
 it. My words had certainly no refemblance to the in- 
 tention of my thoughts, on that occafion ; nor were 
 at all agreeable to the efteem I have for fuch fuperior 
 merit as yours. Your letters are the greateft entertain- 
 ment this world gives me ; and this is, perhaps, the 
 only fatisfadtion I could not quietly refign. Your filence 
 would make my life feem like a perfecl blank, and as 
 infigniflcant as fieep. 
 
 RELIGION ought indeed to give the mind a great - 
 nefs and equality in profperous or unhappy events ; but 
 there are fome inftances, in which reafon and philofo- 
 phy feem but empty names, when we come to try 
 
 their
 
 68 LETTERS. 
 
 their force. I am afraid they would prove no more 
 to me, if any unhappy accident fhould rob me of the 
 pleafure and advantage of your letters ; which have re- 
 flections in them fo juft, that they always give me a 
 rational and elegant delight. 
 
 I MUST fay fomething about going to : I 
 
 have no arguments againft it, that relate to this world ; 
 and I intend to talk no more of the next, for fear you 
 fhould think me quite out of my v/its ; only I will tell 
 
 you, that I fhall be glad to fee Mrs. , if (he 
 
 comes j and will {hew her the church and the meeting- 
 houfe, and all the rarities of this fine town. 
 
 RUMOURS of wars do not much terrify me ; I have 
 fuch a partial opinion of the Englijh, that I can't but 
 fancy they muft Hill be victorious, whatever wars they 
 engage in. 
 
 I CANNOT help writing on this paper, for I fent to 
 London for larger ; but they have confin'd me juft to 
 thefe limits, however flowing my invention mould hap- 
 pen to be. 
 
 / am y &c. 
 
 LETTER XXXVI. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 IT would be impudence in me to complain, unlefs 
 my own innocence could better juftify my reproaches ; 
 but I am fo much a greater fufferer by your filence, than 
 your Ladylhip can poffibly be by mine, that my re- 
 monftratice would not be altogether unjult. 
 
 I HAVE
 
 LETTERS. 69 
 
 I HAVE not, indeed, vanity enough to think that 
 nothing could have kept you from writing to me, but 
 loling the ufe of your hands ; yet I am fo difmterefted, 
 that I had rather any reafon fhould keep you filent, 
 than the want of health ; and if you will but oblige 
 me with the favour of telling me you are alive and 
 happy, I ihall afk no more. 
 
 INDEED "'tis fo long fince I heard from you, that I 
 begin to fancy you never had any but a poetical ex- 
 iftence ; that my happinefs has been all a romantic 
 fcene of my own forming : Perhaps I have been only 
 entertain'd with fome pleafing dream, and amufing my- 
 felf with a glittering fallacy ; or elfe, between fleeping 
 and waking, a fairy vifion has fmil'd on me, and then 
 for ever vanifh'd from my view. 
 
 You find I have put you into the cjafs of dreams and 
 fhadows : If you don't write, and do yourftlf juitice, 
 I mall ftill doubt whether you are a charming reality, 
 or only the gay production of my own imagination. 
 I long to know whether you are fomething or nothing, 
 that I may either be filent, or addrefs you according to 
 your dignity. 
 
 I AM glad my Lord commends the Critical 
 
 Hiftory of England; the two firft volumes are very en- 
 tertaining, and I am pofitive you would like them. If 
 I had children or grandchildren, nephews or nieces, 
 they mould read them. I don't love hiftory at all, I 
 affure you ; but thefe books are fit for all good Chri- 
 ftians, that love their country, and wim the happinefs 
 and liberty of mankind. 
 
 I am, Sec. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER XXXVII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 /O WL E T's effays muft be entertaining to your La- 
 dyfhip, if they are new to you : They will ac- 
 quire new graces to me from your approbation, and 
 when I read thofe eflays again, it will be with double 
 pleafure. 
 
 You are fo good a judge of what is graceful and 
 proper in the conduct of life, that you feduce me into 
 an affent to your reafons for young people's frequenting 
 Plays; but the fame reafons, from any other perfon, 
 .would not have convinced me half fo eafily, after what 
 Mr. Laiv has wrote with fo much wit and piety on the 
 fubjeft. But in the view of the world and a public 
 life, 'tis hardly polTible to perfuade one's felf to be fin- 
 gular ; and perhaps it might have an ill effeft, and 
 would drefs up virtue in too rigid a figure. 
 
 I LOVE mufic to excefs, and yet I can't help think- 
 ing it a perfecl farce for reafonable creatures to make 
 fuch ferious quarrels for mere trifles, and feem more 
 concern'd for the entertainments of the ftage, than for 
 the joys of paradife. 
 
 IT would be vanity in me to make an excufe for 
 my fhort letters ; my long ones need it much more. 
 
 I am, &C. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER XXXVIII. 
 
 5T0 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I HOPE you think me dead, as I certainly ought to 
 be in my own defence, fince that would be an un - 
 anfwerable excufe for my filence : Not but that I fliall 
 have things of greater confequence to impart to you 
 from the immaterial world, and I am perfuaded mall 
 keep my inclinations of converfing with you unchang'd. 
 If 1 retain the fenfe of any paft pleafures, it will be 
 the fatisfaftion that fome of your reflections have given 
 me ; and at prefent I can't fancy a more agreeable en- 
 tertainment, than the pleafure of informing that juft 
 and noble curiofity, that you fo often exprefs concern- 
 ing a future ilate. 
 
 I READ Mr. Watts'* fermons with fincere delight, 
 fcut I did not commend them to you, for feai you 
 fhould think me more partial to the Diflenters thai I 
 really am. 
 
 'Tis an eafy tranfition from thofe fermons to Mr. 
 RoWs fongs, which are exceeding fine. This is a very 
 good paraphrafe on St. Paul to the Corinthians : 
 
 * Beviam, o DoH, godiam, che il glorno 
 Prefto e al ritorno, frefio a! par fir ; 
 
 Di gioijinezza godiamo il fiorc t 
 Poi Pultim 1 ore lafciam --vemr. 
 
 * Let's drink, my Dorus, let's enjoy 
 Youth's flow'ry prime, before 'tis paft ; 
 
 Let pleafure ev'ry hour employ, 
 Then, when it will, arrive the laft J 
 
 Ltt
 
 72 LETTERS. 
 
 Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow ive die. I Cor. 
 chap. xv. ver. 32. I have fet down the verfe and 
 chapter, becaufe Mr. Rolli may not know where to 
 borrow a concordance, and I am in hopes he will read 
 the whole chapter, it will do him no manner of harm. 
 
 I SHALL exactly obey my Lord in return- 
 ing the paper he has fent, in letters to your Ladyfhip, 
 on condition I may indulge my talent of impertinence, 
 and not be ftricUy confin'd to write common fenfe. 
 
 IF there are fairies, (as I am not fuch an infidel as 
 to deny) they are certainly very happy beings, and 
 poffefs'd of a great many privileges which unhappy 
 mortals want : If you could convey yourfelf in a letter, 
 I fhould receive it with great tranfport ; for my im- 
 patience to fee you is much greater and more juit than 
 yours can be. But this world has no unmingled hap- 
 pinefs ; and I'll endeavour, with as much tranquility as 
 I can, to wait 'till death draws the curtain, and un- 
 folds the fcenes of immortal pleafure. 
 
 HERE you will difmifs me, and give me leave to 
 fubfcribe myfelf 
 
 Your, Sec. 
 
 LETTER XXXIX. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 THE news of the King's death has given my 
 thoughts a very ferrous turn. 'Tis impoflible not 
 to be affefted with fuch a melancholy inftance of the 
 vanity of all human joys,
 
 LETTERS. 73 
 
 JUuJlrlous Jhadoiu f 'where are thy dejigns ? 
 Thy glorious profpeffs and heroic fchcmes ? 
 Thou and thy thoughts, in one unhappy day, 
 Together perijh, and are feen no more. 
 The promts' d bleffings, the unbounded hopes 
 Thy virtues ga*ve, for ever difappear. 
 
 THE deaths of monarchs fpeak a thoufand folemn 
 truths, and are the moft pathetic lectures of mortality ; 
 yet Hill the living are infenfible of thefe facred Me- 
 mento's, and go on in the fame vain purfuits. Grandeur 
 and pleafure appear in the fame inchanting forms ; 'till 
 death diffolves the fpell, and puts the fovereign and 
 the flave on a level : All diftinttions are then loft, but 
 thofe which virtue gives ; and thofe muft be great to 
 fuch as have been benefactors to mankind, and a na- 
 tion's glory and protection. But thefe grave re- 
 flections ought to give place to the public joy, in which 
 I know you Cncerely mare, and juftly deferve to be 
 long an ornament in the court of a Queen, who is the 
 pride and pleafure of a great and happy people. 
 
 WHAT a dialect I am got into ? this is talking out 
 of character, and wandering from my rural fimplicity. 
 The fylvan fcenes are much more fuited to my tails 
 and language : Where, amidft all the tumults of the 
 world, I find repofe in an inglorious folitude, which at 
 once indulges the indolence of my temper, and gives 
 me leifure to reflect on the vanity of human life. 
 
 To your Ladyfhip's great confolation, I have but juil 
 room enough to fubfcribe myfelf 
 
 Tour, &C, 
 
 , 
 
 OL. II, E LETTER
 
 74 
 
 LETTER XL, 
 
 70 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 I AM very fond of politics, when writ in fuch foft 
 and gentle language as yours. You have infpir'd 
 me with a public fpirir, and charm'd me fo much with 
 your defcription of the King and his Parliament, that I 
 wifh you were to attend her Majefty to the houfe on 
 
 all important debates. My Lord 's addrefs and 
 
 eloquence could not exceed the beauty of your re- 
 lation. 
 
 I AM exceedingly touch'd with thefe fine lines of 
 Mr. Pitt, on the late King. 
 
 So well he lov'd the public liberty, 
 
 His mercy fet the private captive free. 
 
 Soon af our royal angel came in vz'etv, 
 
 The prifons burft, the parting binges few ; 
 
 The dungeons opened, and rejigiid their prey 
 
 joy, to life, to freedom, and the day : 
 
 'The chains drop off, the grateful captives rear 
 
 Their hands, unmanacled, in praife and pray'r. 
 
 Had thus victorious Caefar fought to pleafe, 
 
 And ruVd the vanqui/O'd world ivith arts like thefe j 
 
 The gen'rous Brutus had not fconi'd to bend, 
 
 S ut funk the rigid patriot in the friend} 
 
 And CatO reconciFd, had ne^er difdain'd 
 
 To live a Jubjec~t, where a Brunfwick reign* J. 
 
 HOWEVER libertine principles would degrade huma 
 nature, I find there is fuch a thing as difinterefted 
 friendship, and a fincere QQncern for another's happinefs, 
 
 remote
 
 LETTERS. 75 
 
 Demote from any hopes of perfonal advantage or re- 
 putation : But this is a height of benevolence, which 
 only religion caa infpire ; and without that, all the fpe- 
 dous names of honour and beneficence are mere mock- 
 ery, and infolent flights of vanity. My concern for 
 you is perhaps the ftamp of Heaven on my foul, fince 
 it chiefly regards your future felicity. Whatever other 
 change death may make on my mind, this difpoihiont 
 muft rife to a more generous height in the regions of 
 perfefl amity and blifs. I often pleafe myfelf with the 
 thought, that departed fpirits fupply the place of guar- 
 dian angels to their friends ; that they delight to follow 
 them in their folitary walks, watch their nightly flum- 
 bers, and make impreflions on their fleeping fancy, to 
 warn them of approaching dangers. 'Tis not unlikely, 
 that the tempefts of human paflions are fometimes com- 
 pos'd by the foft infpiring whifpers of thofe propitious 
 beings, while the feats of joy have open'd their glories 
 in vifionary fcenes to their fleeping imagination. 
 
 ONE would think I were got into fome golden dream, 
 and fancy 'd myfelf in paradife. I find fome occasion, 
 to afk myfelf, whether I am awake or afleep, dead or 
 alive ? among the number of mortals, or departed fpi- 
 rits ? Whatever I am elfe, 'tis with great certainty 
 
 that I fubfcribe myfelf 
 
 !/;-, &c. 
 
 E z LETTER
 
 7 6 
 
 LETTER XLI. 
 
 21? the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR letter is but fhort, yet it difcovers the an- 
 xiety of your mind. I hope my Lord *s 
 
 illnefs is not dangerous, and that your Ladyship's con- 
 cern is only the effect of a tender mother's affeftion. 
 However it is, virtue in diftrefs touches the mind in its 
 fofteft fprings ; and 'tis impoffible for me to exprefs how 
 much I fympathize with you in this affliction. But how 
 fruitlefs and vain are the good wifhes of mortals to one 
 another ! The moft beneficent difpofition cannot relieve 
 us in the leaft diftrefs ; all created things difappoint our 
 expectations, and vanifh into nothing : 'Tis all demon- 
 ftration then, that the world is vanity ; every exigence 
 of life proves it, without a dull chain of reasoning. 
 
 '"Tis Heanfn alone can then fupport the foul, 
 And bear it up in all its native greatnefs ; 
 Dependent only on that mighty Pow'r 
 'ihat fix 'd the earth, that fet the feas their bounds, 
 And bid the fun in all its glory rife, 
 
 PEOPLE may talk at this rate very much at their eafe. 
 While I am writing, I am fure you think in a much 
 better manner ; but 'tis a pleafure fometimes to inform 
 people of what they knew before. 
 
 O pur/ue, 
 
 Purfue, the f acred diftates of your foul, 
 TJ^hich lead you on to 'virtue f Let not danger 
 Nor the incumtfring world make faint your purpofe \ 
 AJJtjling angels fiall condul your fteps, 
 Bring you to ///}, and crown your tnd with peace. 
 
 I am, &V. 
 
 LETTER
 
 77 
 
 LETTER XLII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR illnefs will defend you now from my com- 
 plaints of the fhortnefs of your letter ; I am 
 more concern'd for the caufe, than for any thing I muil 
 necefiarily fuffer by the effect. I have plac'd too great 
 a part of my happinefs in converting this way with your 
 Ladyfhip ; and am now almoft convinc'd, that an abfo- 
 lute indifference and freedom from all the agreeable 
 enjoyments that amufe the mind, is the neareft way to 
 the reft it parfues : The height of friendfhip, as well 
 as the excefs of love, is always reftlefs and uneafy ; 
 fome fort of diffidence mingles with the moft flattering 
 imaginations we have. 
 
 I WRITE, but am never pleasM with any circum- 
 ftance in my letters, befides their lincerity ; and that 
 betrays me into a freedom and negligence in my ex- 
 preffions, which I am fure a temper fo artlefs and ge- 
 nerous as yours will excufe ; while you always appear 
 to my thoughts with every advantage that virtue or 
 nature can give. If there are words of facred impor- 
 tance, they are thofe of unaffected truth and friendfliip ; 
 and to thefe my foul pays a homage fo religious, that 
 no confederation could tempt me to be guilty of dif- 
 guife. 
 
 YOUR Ladyfhip's diforder gives me many penfive 
 moments, but I hope your next will bring me the news 
 of your perfect recovery. 
 
 * 1 am, &c. 
 
 E 3 LETTER
 
 7 8 
 
 LETTER XLIIt 
 
 fo the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I HAVE waited for the letter you promis'd me witk 
 great impatience; but whether you write or not, 
 you find I am refolv'd to moleft your repofe, I war 
 going to fay, but I believe I may recall that foft word 
 for one of a more vexatious meaning, and flatter niyfelf, 
 that I only interrupt a fort of magnificent hurry, in.whick 
 your Ladyfhip is engag'd. 
 
 I CAN'T perfuade myfelf to impute your long fi- 
 lence to inclination ; but have invented a hundred other 
 accidents that have depriv'd me of the pleafure of your 
 Ladyihip's letters. So rooted a thing is vanity in hu- 
 man nature f and indeed it is one great privilege of our 
 being, and makes us as well fatisfy'd with fome pleafing 
 fiftion, as the molt real happinefs. For my part, I an> 
 always eafy, as long as I can perfuade myfelf not to 
 call in queftion my own merit ; which, however ima- 
 ginary, leaves me in perfect tranquility, 'till a fit of mo- 
 defty raifes fome doubts and fcruples to interrupt my 
 felicity. 
 
 MY brother begs you to accept a volume of lives 
 compos'd by Mr. Rmve. I believe I am not partial in 
 faying, there never was a better judge of the beauties 
 of the EngHJb language, and of the graces of human 
 life, than Mr. Ro<we; and as they were publifli'd at the 
 importunity of two or three of the author's friend.*,, 
 who are perfons of great wit and learning, I don't qua- 
 ftion they will pafs for finifh'd effays. 
 
 / <.-, &c. 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER XLIV. 
 
 fo the fame. 
 
 79 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR good-nature, I am fure, would not fuffer 
 you to be filent fo long, but for fome real or 
 imagin'd offence that I have given you. I cannot re- 
 collect what, becaufe I forget my letters as foon as they 
 are feaN -, but certainly, Lady , I could as 
 
 foon defign an injury to my own foul, as to you. I 
 confefs, I have the guilt of too many idle and unguarded 
 words to anfwer for to Heaven ; but I appeal to you, 
 if ever you knew me make an envious or an ill-natur'd 
 reflexion on any perfon upon earth, or defcend to any 
 thing of artifice or difguife in all my conduct. In what 
 interval of madnefs, what moment of folly and dark- 
 nefs, could I fay any thing difobliging to you ? I muft 
 be lunatic, and under the influence of fome very fan- 
 taftic planet ; an error muft be involuntary, that was fo 
 contrary to the difpofition of my mind, and quite the 
 reverfe to my fettled inclinations. If I did not know 
 how perfectly innocent I am of the leaft intention to dif- 
 oblige you, Madam, I mould never forgive myfelf for 
 afting fo contrary to the rules of juftice and gratitude. 
 Befides your own merit, which, without any other mo^- 
 tlve, would fecure my admiration and efteem, you have 
 added to this a thoufand obligations for the advantages 
 of your converfation, which command my higheil gra- 
 titude. Thefe motives, I hope, would govern me, if 
 I was a mere Pagan, and unacquainted with the facred 
 rules of the Chriftian religion. 
 
 Were fields of light, and Heft etleereal plains. 
 The gay conceits of <vijionary brains ; 
 Were there no palms, nor Jlarry croium prepar'J 
 The glorious toil of virtue to reward : 
 
 E 4 Jf
 
 go LETTERS. 
 
 If there was no future recompence for .virtue, nor pu- 
 nifhment for vice, there is fomething in my nature that 
 would keep me from ingratitude and breach of friend- 
 fhip. My efteem for you has Jbeen as fincere as my 
 love of virtue and happinefs, and will be fo 'till I meet 
 you in the happy realms of peace and perfect benefi- 
 cence ; 'till then, we ihall never be free from error 
 and miilakes. 
 
 We always dream, the life of man's a dream t 
 In which frejh tumults agitate his breaft ; 
 *!77// the kind hand of death unlocks the c&aifi, 
 Which clogg'd the noble and afpiring foul t 
 And then we truly wake. 
 
 THIS may perhaps be all the effeft of the fpleen* 
 and a gloomy turn of thought : I wifh it may ; but I 
 am fo capable of every fort of folly and inadvertency, 
 that I have reafon to fufpeft myfelf rather than you. 
 Whatever is the caufe of your filence, I am, with the 
 greateft fincerity, 
 
 Your, &c. 
 
 LETTER XLV. 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOU will find, by my laft letter, how much un- 
 eafmefs your filence gave me : However, it will 
 ferve for an apology for all my future impertinences. 
 
 MRS. has pleas'd me, by -letting me know, 
 
 that you made one of the befl figures, for perfon and 
 
 drefs,
 
 LETTERS. 81 
 
 drefs, at the coronation. But, ye vain grandeurs and 
 fantaftic amufements, how little iatisfaction can you give ? 
 If you, Madam, are not happy, where are the boafts 
 of greatnefs and pleafure ? 
 
 Where dwells this peace , this freedom of the mind? 
 Where, but in Jbades remote from humankind '; 
 In flow'ry vales, 'where nymphs and Jhepherdi meet t 
 ut never comes 'within the palace gate. 
 
 Ld. LANDSDOWN. 
 
 MR. Ramfay's Life of Cyrus will be perfectly enter- 
 taining to me ; I have never feen it, and am impatient 
 to read it ; for it has been recommended to me by a 
 very good judge ; but I prefer your tafte to every body's 
 elfe, and mall read it with great partiality. 
 
 I WISH your Ladyfhip had the privilege of being in 
 two places at the fame time, that you might enjoy your 
 unenvy'd country delights, and mine in a court that will 
 perhaps be the glory of the Eritijb hiftory, 'till the fun 
 fhall meafure days and months no more. And yet to 
 live for the public is but glorious mifery. What ex- 
 alted mortal, in the laft hour of life, would not refign 
 all the advantages of greatnefs and power, for a few 
 moments of leifure and obfcurky ? when nature in her 
 extremeil agonies 
 
 Starts at the awful profpeS of the deep, 
 Still fears t * explore the' dark and unknown nvay f 
 Still backward JLrinks, and meditates delay, 
 Spins out the time, and lingers in debate y 
 "Difpleasd to try an unexperienced jlate. 
 
 I AM (it being a-jropos you will think) 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 E 5 LETTER
 
 LETTER XLVL 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOU need not be afham'd to own you are alive; 
 'tis a Joy to the world, and the moft agreeable 
 news your Ladyfhip could have told me ; it heightens 
 my enjoyment of the charming folitude thro-' which Mr. 
 Thomfons mufe leads the thoughts with a juft and rea- 
 fonable delight. 
 
 THERE is a fort of noble melancholy that the mind 
 loves to indulge ; and, amidfl fome of the greateft 
 gayeties, we are confcious that we came into the world 
 foi- fome more important end than to laugh. Not thas 
 I can pretend 'tis a crime to laugh, to you that have 
 been fo frequent a witnefs of my difpofition to it ; but 
 certainly mirth ought to be the effect of chance and 
 furprize, and not of deliberation and defign. Farce 
 and burlefque appear to me an indignity to human na- 
 ture, when propos'd as an entertainment for reasonable 
 and immortal beings who are in fufpence and abfo- 
 lutely uncertain, whether their future deftiny will be the 
 
 extreme of happinefs or mifery. It is well for you r 
 
 Madam, that I am interrupted, or you would hava 
 thought me at defiance with ilnging and laughing. 
 
 ANY thing of your Lady fhip's drawing I (hall highly 
 Talue, and I am extremely pleas'd that you are extend- 
 ing the limits of your happinefs ; for nothing can more 
 fincerely amufe the mind than- imitating the fcenes of 
 ivature. 
 
 When from tke mingled Jlrength of Jbade and light*, 
 A ne<w creation r^es to the fight * 
 Tbs blooming fpring appears at your command,. 
 And failing nature waits uon your hand.
 
 LETTERS. 83 
 
 'Tis no matter whether they are the {lone-trees that 
 you rally me for, or the foar-focted bi ds, 'tis the pro- 
 priety that gives the pleafure. I fhdl finiih Lady 
 
 's fan very foon : I employ my pencil for her 
 
 With uncommon delight. 
 
 THE character of Selima in the Travels of Cyrus 
 charms me. I fancy, if you was in the fame circum- 
 ftances, you would have adled with a fpirit as heroic. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 LETTER XLVIL 
 
 70 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 THE formality of wafting paper, and beginning 
 at the bottom of the page, is a very good ex- 
 pedient for a dull invention j and in no other cafe am I 
 a ilave to ceremony, nor in that always j for I have no 
 great averfion to nonfenfe, unlefs when I am writing to 
 your Ladyfhip ; and then, tho' I have a thoufand things 
 to fay, the language of mortal men does not feem ex- 
 preffive of my thoughts. 
 
 I HAVE been reading Harry the ffth in Sbakefpear, 
 which gives the moft folemn image in the world of 
 the end of human greatnefs. Death feems to enter a 
 cottage only as a gentle deliverer from the miferies of 
 human life, but into courts and the ieats of grandeur 
 with infult and terror. To languiih under a gilded 
 canopy, to expire on foft and downy pillows, and give 
 up the ghoft in ftate, has a more gloomy tifpecl;, than
 
 S 4 LETTER S. 
 
 at the call of nature to expire on a grafiy turf, and re- 
 fign the breathlefs clay back to its proper element. 
 What does a crowd of friends or flatterers fignify in 
 that important hour to the moft glorious mortal ? which 
 of his numerous attendants would ftand the arreft of 
 death, defcend into the filent prifon of the grave for 
 him, or anfwer the fummons of the fupreme tribunal ? 
 You'll forgive me, Madam, for dwelling fo long on 
 this mortifying fubjeft ; if thefe things were mere fic- 
 tions, I mould be glad never to mention, nor think of 
 them. 
 
 I HAVE finifh'd a fan for Mrs. , with Lady 
 
 1 S picture in it, as exact as I could remember 
 her charming face ; but the wit and elegance in it no 
 pencil can defcribe. 
 
 J AM, by a thoufand obligations, 
 
 Tour, Sec. 
 
 LETTER XL VIII. 
 
 5T<? the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 BOTH your letters, found me a miferable mortal, 
 to my great mortification ; for I mould be glad to 
 commence a higher order of beings, that I might con- 
 vert with your Ladylhip more on a level. 
 
 I HAVE read Dr. Burners defcription of the Millen- 
 nlnm with fo much pleafure, that I am not furpriz'd 
 fuch a fubjeft mould give you fo many agreeable ima- 
 ges, and be more entertaining to a temper like yours, 
 
 than
 
 LETTERS. 85 
 
 than either vanity or fcandal ; the laft, the politeft con- 
 verfation on earth cannot make tolerable. 
 
 I HAVE read the * letters your Ladyfhip recom- 
 mended to me, and like them, without exception, on 
 your approbation ; that motive would tempt me to wifli 
 I had writ them, if I had the leaft ambition of being art 
 author. But I need not juftify myfelf fo ferioufly on 
 this fubjeft. The reading of the fourteenth, I confefs, 
 put me in mind of dear Lady . 
 
 LADY has very much oblig'd me by the 
 
 fight of thofe fine verfes on a lady. The view of fuch a. 
 charadler gives the mind a great delight, in {hewing to 
 what an height of perfection mortals can rife ; the mere 
 poffibility of fuch virtue pleafes, becaufe it is ftill hu- 
 jnan, and may be imitated. 
 
 YOUR opinion does necefiarily govern me, when I 
 know it, and I am partial or prejudic'd, not from any 
 affected complaifance, but from a real afcendant you 
 have over my judgment ; but in this cafe I give my own 
 opinion, I muft own I like the ProwiCd Hujband; there 
 feems to me to be nature, wit and good morals in it,, 
 and I can't but hope you like it. Shakcfpear^s Play I 
 have not feen. What is become of Mr. Kolli and Mil- 
 ton ? I hope he has found the book that was loft ; 'tis 
 pity his nation mould be robb'd of fuch a noble tranfla- 
 tion. 
 
 1 am, &c. 
 
 Friend/kip in Death. 
 
 LETTER
 
 6 
 
 LETTER XLIX. 
 
 '90 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 F you will not let me write to you, I am refolv'd to 
 
 __ write to my Lord , and Lady . 
 
 I know, by my own heart, you will not be angry with 
 me in earneft ; if you take ever fo much pains to b fo, 
 you have fo little malignity in your temper, and muft be 
 wicked with fo much difficulty, that when you make the 
 trial, you will defpair of fucceeding in the attempt. 
 There will be peace betwixt us in this world ; on my 
 fide 'tis nature, lis neceffity, 
 
 * Come facqua fcende,, el fuoco 
 
 And in the next world nothing will break the feries of 
 an eternal amity. I fhall then aft in the perfection of 
 my reafon ; but while I am a mortal, I (hall certainly 
 fay and do a thoufand foolifh things : ' Tis the privilege 
 of human nature, and I mall infift on my claim ; my 
 pretenfions are evident, and indifputable, and I am fure 
 you have not the confcience to defire me to be infallible, 
 and free from miftakes both of opinion and practice. 
 Eut not any of my errors has given me fo much uneafi- 
 nefs, as fpeaking to you, in my laft,. in fb artful a man- 
 ner, and ufing any fort of difguife : It has put me more 
 in the fpleen than I thought any misfortune could have 
 done ; and I think (if I know myfelf) I would not be 
 guilty of another equivocation, if I might gain the em- 
 pire of the world by it. I owe this confeffion to the 
 rules of virtue and friendfhip. And now that my mind 
 is at peace with itfelf, I find that nothing can efcape the 
 penetration of your genius. I eonfbfs it would have 
 been a pleafure to me to know your Ladyfhip's opinion, 
 
 * As water defcends, as fire mounts. GUARIN.I,
 
 LETTERS. 87 
 
 if you had not known the author ; but I hope the reft 
 of the world will continue ignorant, except two or three 
 who know my impertinent manner of thinking. How- 
 ever, I am pretty quiet, 'tis a harmlefs folly ; and as all 
 the events and characters are fiftion, if it does nobody 
 no good, it will do them no hurt : And I believe 1 mail 
 content myfeJf for the future with copying the vanities 
 of my imagination for your perufal ; only I muft warn 
 you to beware of reading them when you are inclined to 
 fleep, for fear a mortal lethargy mould be the confe- 
 quence. Next time I write, I will copy fomething for 
 your Ladyfhip, but 'tis pretty long, and not quite fi- 
 nim'd, and you had need be a little prepar'd for the 
 heavy penance of reading any more of my works. 
 
 lam, Sec. 
 
 LETTER L.. 
 
 To the fame* 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 T AM fmcerely griev'd that you had not my letter, to 
 ft prevent your fending for me. I dare not think of a 
 journey in my prefent circumftances : I have a weight 
 on my fpirits like death. My humour is not fplenetic 
 without ibme real caufe ; and I am not fit now to en- 
 joy my friends,, nor hardly myfelf, which is not a com- 
 mon accident to my temper. As I am now, if I mould 
 
 iee you fo ill and languifhing as when I was laft at ,. 
 
 nothing on earth could fupport me in fuch a melancholy 
 fcene. But I am at prefent detain'd, by expecting fome 
 relations of Mr. /W-f's, who fent me word, they would 
 come and fee me for a day or two ; and I would always 
 fiievv them the refpeft they merit. 
 
 I AM
 
 SS LETTERS. 
 
 JAM glad, for your fake, that the library is got to 
 < ; but for me, when I am capable of enjoy- 
 ing any thing, your converfation has charms enough to 
 entertain 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER LL 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 TH E wood?, and dreams, and country fcenes, to 
 which you are retiring, will yield to a temper 
 Hke yours more real delights than all the noify plea- 
 fures of the town ; and yet, if there was no fuperior 
 happinefs to be fecur'd, I fhould think plays and opera's 
 the height of human enjoyments. I can't be guilty of 
 diflimulation, and pretend to an indifference for thofe en- 
 tertainments, on any other view, but the hopes of fome- 
 thing more noble and lafting, in exchange for prefent 
 pleafures ; otherwife the birds might fing, and the rivu- 
 lets murmur at their leifure, for me. 
 
 WHAT fhall I fay to exprefs the remorfe and con- 
 fufion I am under at the knowledge of your difappoint- 
 ment ? But really you have no lofs by my abfence ; for 
 I am fo ftupid, that not even your converfation could 
 awake me into life and fenfe. I have no prejudice 
 againft myfelf, and therefore you may believe there is no 
 injuftice in this confeflion. But I have ftill feme fenfe 
 of morality left, and own myfelf under an obligation 
 to wait on you ; if in mere charky to yourfelf, you will 
 not fufpend niy happinefs 'till next fpring. As I am not 
 yet well, if I come now, I mould not let any body in 
 the hoafe live at eafe, 'till I am fent back again. As 
 
 long
 
 LETTERS. g 9 
 
 long as I have a whimfy in my head that I am mortal, 
 I mall chufe to meet death in this humble retreat ; where 
 the univerfal terror feems to put on a gentler afpedt, 
 than in the view of greatnefs, and the amufements of 
 life : The greateft fortitude and moft ferious difpofition. 
 is little enough to fupport the foul in that important and 
 folemn hour. 
 
 I TAKE all opportunities to inquire after yofcr health, 
 and am overjoy'd to hear that you are no longer in the 
 lead danger of a confumption, and that you are almoft 
 perfe&ly recover'd. May all the joys that virtue caa 
 give, attend you, and angels guide you in the paths to 
 immortal blifs. 
 
 I AM glad my Lord will foon return, for then all 
 the world befides will be infignificant to you : 'Tis a 
 diftin&ion that is due to fo much merit. 
 
 &c. 
 
 LETTER LII. 
 
 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 IAM tranfported at the thoughts of feeing your La- 
 dy fhip here, tho' I believe it will prove but a golden 
 dream. It would not be civil to offer you fuch lodgings 
 as mine ; but I can command very good rooms at a pri- 
 vate houfe ; unlefs you chufe mine, which are really 
 not fit for you. I hope you will ftay more than a night, 
 for Longleate is but two or three little miles off, nor Mrs. 
 's ; and I'll ramble any where with you, on con- 
 dition I may be left here, to breathe my la-ft in this per- 
 fecl folitude. Heaven grant that grand and decifive- 
 
 moment
 
 90 LETTERS. 
 
 moment may look as unclouded near, as it does at a 
 diftance. O happy period ? 
 
 O (eleftial point,- 
 Which ends this mortal ftory f 
 
 I am, &V. 
 
 LETTER LIII. 
 
 To the fame* 
 
 IF you don't come in a very little while, there will 
 be no laurels nor holly-oaks left in the country, for 
 my waiting- gentlewoman has ingrofs'd them all to adorn 
 her chimneys : Nor will there be a handful of balm left 
 in the town to make poffets for the iick, if your Lady-, 
 (hip defers your journey much longer, t like my own 
 houfe for you better than any other, and if you can 
 bear it, I ihall be perfectly happy while you are in it. 
 
 T Tis but to forget that you are the Countefs of , 
 
 and that will not rob you of one good quality ; for if 
 you liv'd in the woods, you might infift on the rights of 
 nature, and be fovereign of the rural inhabitants, and 
 reign unrivalPd on the plains. 
 
 YOUR promifing not to plague me (as you call it) 
 makes me half angry with you ; 'tis the greateft impro- 
 priety of language you can be be guilty of, befides the 
 great injuftice of fuch a thought : 1 hope you will live 
 to repent the criminal fuppofition. Your company will 
 give me unmingled joy, nor will it be poffible for you 
 to put me into the leaft hurry, if you will but give or- 
 ders what you will have to eat and drink ; for I don't 
 expeft you mould live fuch a celeftial life, as to be 
 nQurifh'd with the pure ether. But I hope your Lady - 
 
 Ihip
 
 L E T'T E R S. 91 
 
 fhlp will confine your luxury to the common food of 
 mortals ; it would be an unreafonable caprice here to 
 take it into your head to banquet like the immortals on 
 Neflar and Ambrofia. But if your Ladyfli'p will dif- 
 penfe with the want of thefe niceties, and content yoar- 
 felf with earthly viands, you will highly oblige me by 
 writing your own bill of fare every morning : I mult 
 own, without affeftation, I could as foon compofe a 
 new almanack for the year 1729, as perform fuch a 
 laborious tafk. 
 
 I HAVE hir'd all the children in the neighbourhood 
 neither to cry nor hollow while you are here ; but if 
 'tis necefiary for them to utter fome audible found, and 
 lift up their voices,. I have defir'd it may be only in 
 finging, which I hope will be as moral, tho' not fo me- 
 lodious an entertainment, as the Beggar's Opera. I 
 know you will forgive my impertinent averficn to that 
 performance, and the ill manners of contradifting the 
 approbation of the public. 
 
 How happy {hall I be, if you like my houfe ! 
 Here are two chambers for your Ladyfhip, and a 
 
 * chapel for Mrs. ; of which fhe fhall have 
 
 the keys in her poiTeffion, and where fhe may retire 
 when ihe will for her contemplations. Only there are 
 no bells nor organs, but there is a cupola and arch'd 
 windows ; and perhaps her meditations may not always 
 require a pkce of more fanftity. The room I have 
 allotted for your Ladymip has been truly confecrated 
 by my father's devotions. One would think I told you 
 this, that you might not fright yourfelf with the thoughts 
 of gholb and evil fpirits. Perhaps the fame angels 
 may guard you there, that waited to condudl the dying 
 faint to paradife : Never was the laft part of life afted 
 with greater fortitude. I can't help copying thefe fine 
 lines fent me by Mr. Grove. 
 
 * The Meeting-houfe.
 
 92 LETTERS. 
 
 Here Death If aw, not that wan, ghajilj Jhade, 
 
 Jty guilt and melancholy fancy made, 
 
 Of afpeft jlern, deform" d all o'er, and blind j 
 
 But gentle, foft, beneficent and kind. 
 
 Down by his fide a golden quiver hung, . 
 
 Full was the quiver, nor his bow unfirung, 
 
 Af.lverjhaft he chofe ('twas tipt with love ',) 
 
 'Ibis to the man, he f aid, mojl dear to Jove. 
 
 Then twang 1 d his bow, away the pointed dart 
 
 Fkwfwift as thought, and pierced the fav 1 rite" 1 s heart'* 
 
 Afudden night involved his clojing eyes, 
 
 And the glad foul difmifid, fought out her kindred Jkies. 
 
 NOT diftant far I fata a lonely cave, 
 The paj/age ftetp and gloomy, caWd the grave \ 
 Difmal it feem\i, but after Jhort dtfcent, 
 Opend into a plain of vajl extent ; 
 Where happy minds, from clay unfettered, rove. 
 Verdant the fields beneath ', the Jkics ferene above ; 
 N: fummer 1 ! drought, nor wintry cold are there y 
 No lazy mifts to clog the purer air. 
 Broad ftreams of blifs from living fpr ings fupply'/f 
 With fmooth, majejlic currents gently glide. 
 Along the Jbore angelic forms arefcen y 
 And hymns divine are heard 
 
 YE Hi/sful feati, &C. 
 
 I MUST defcend ; how I got here I cannot tell : My 
 excurfions to the fkies are always fhort, and fomewhat 
 unnatural ; and, as you can witnefs, I have a great fym- 
 pathy for my native element the duft, and can breathe 
 in thefe grofs regions without the leaft difficulty ; and as 
 long as I live in hopes of feeing your Ladyfhip, I 
 have fome peculiar engagements to the world. 
 
 IP
 
 LETTERS. 93 
 
 IF you don't like this houfe, before you favour me 
 with another vifit, I will certainly go to one that I am 
 fure you will like. But I beg you to let me know 
 when I may expect the happinefs : It would be more 
 complaifant, perhaps, to fay honour, but I am infen- 
 iible to that ; 'tis pleafure, that inchanting thing, which 
 is my view, when I think of converfing with you, I 
 would not thank the . Countefs of for the ho- 
 nour of a vifit; the airy found would have no charms 
 for me on fuch an occafion. 
 
 I AM making a book, inftead of writing a letter. I 
 have not room to fubfcribe in any form; ceremony 
 muft yield to neceflity. Finis. 
 
 LETTER LIV. 
 
 70 tbe fame. 
 
 MADAM, Sept. 7, 1728. 
 
 I HAVE at prefent a fet of thoughts not to be ex- 
 prefs'd in the common language of mortals j but 
 fince I am yet a ftranger to the figures of celeftial elo- 
 quence, I muft content myfelf with vulgar forms, and 
 return my thanks for your vifit, in terms very inferior 
 to the fenfe I have of the vaft obligation. 
 
 tbe reft, 
 And by immortal tongues alone to le expreft. 
 
 The height of good humour and fparkling wit, that ap- 
 pear'd in your converfation the whole time of your flay 
 here, charm'd me'beyond every thing elfe ; but has 
 given me fuch a difgufc for whatever comes in jny way, 
 
 that
 
 94 LETTERS. 
 
 that I am juft ready to quarrel with every body I meet 
 for not looking and fpeaking like you. I am grown fo 
 unreafonable as to have an averfion to human creatures, 
 for mere impoffibilities. The refledion on a pleafure 
 paft, your Ladyfhip will find, has a very different effeft 
 on my imagination, from what the hopes of a fatisfac- 
 tion to come had : I am now as fplenetic to find the 
 pleafure for ever gone, as I was gay in the view of it 
 when future. 
 
 MRS. has left a handkerchief here, which 
 ihall be fafely return'd. I wifh fhe had left her heart, 
 tho' it would have been an argument fhe had loft her 
 wits : I am fo much govern 'd by my own intereft, that 
 I mould rejoice at any thing which would be a motive 
 to bring her here again. 
 
 I HA VE with many arguments prevail 'd on Mrs, 
 to have fome charity for David, tho' he was guilty of 
 the great immorality of laughing to himfelf, on fuch a 
 ferious exigence, as the being reduc'd to toaft cheefe 
 with the fire-fhovel ; which 1 find is the only crime he 
 was ever guilty of. 
 
 WHEN (hafl I recover my indolence and indifference 
 to earthly enjoyments ? Really, Madam, I find it necef- 
 fary to my peace and tranquility to forget you as foon 
 as I can, which, I fear, all my pious endeavours will not 
 be able to complete. 
 
 Be this wain world in erfry form forgot ! 
 
 This is but a fort of imaginary triumph ; for ftill I find 
 myfelf engag'd beyond the common formality of fub- 
 fcribing myfelf 
 
 Tour, &C. 
 
 LETTER
 
 95 
 LETTER LV. 
 
 o the fame. 
 MADAM, Sept. 16, 1728, 
 
 HOW many obligations have I to you for your 
 laft paequet? without flattery thefe lines may bf 
 apply'd to you. 
 
 i. " ' Dijfujiffg life around, 
 
 the light of glad fociety ; and teach 
 Love, innocence and joy to mix again, 
 At in the days of Eden. 
 
 You are Mrs. - 's everlafting theme, me re- 
 
 jnembers every fentence : Every word that efcap'd your 
 lips is treafur'd fafely in her memory, and is as au- 
 thentic with her as Mr. Dad's fayings. She has re- 
 peated them fo often to ier brother and fifter, that 
 they have them by heart. She had no notion, fhe 
 owns, of beauty and elegance before, but now fhe 
 thinks with pleafure of what perfection human nature 
 k capable. 
 
 I CONFESS I jexpefled this place would have put 
 you paft redrefs into the {pleen : I was moft agreeably 
 difappointed to find that you crown'd the too fleeting 
 moments with wit and innocent mirth, the whole time 
 of your flay ; and I fliail ever recall the happy hours 
 with pleafure. 
 
 IN imitation of your Ladyfhip's benignity, that would 
 give fatisfaftion to the meaneft of human kind ; I have 
 jejoic'd Mrs. with the intelligence of Colonel . 
 
 I AM, by a thoufand engagements, 
 
 Yiur, &c. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER LVI. 
 
 5T0 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 > ""T^ 1 1 S an age fmce I heard from you, and I begirt 
 
 __ to queftion whether my paft happinefs has been 
 real or a dream, and if there is any fuch agreeable 
 
 perfon as Lady in being, or that I have only 
 
 entertain'd myfelf with a fort of fairy vifion. With 
 you every thing elfe feems to vanifh into a ftate of 
 doubt and uncertainty. 'Tis not impoffible that the 
 world may be ftill inhabited by human creatures ; but 
 to me it feems a perfect folitude, and I begin to fancy 
 myfelf the fole pofleflbr of the earthly globe : Only 
 die misfortune is, 'tis of no ufe to me ; this fnowy 
 weather prevents me from travelling to view the extent 
 
 of my vad dominions. But, dear Lady , if you 
 
 are in any corner of the univerfe, let me know it ; 
 'twill be a real joy to me, tho' I mould quit half m^ 
 fhare both of fea and land to your poffeffion. 
 
 I am, Sec. 
 
 LETTER LVIL 
 
 Vo the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 TMusr begin with what moft concerns me, which is 
 your want of health. I have the moft exquifite 
 feafe of any affliaion of that kind that reaches you. 
 You would not be connn'd to the doctor's hands for a 
 i trifte.
 
 LETTERS. 97 
 
 trifle. I have feen your temper in violent pain, and I 
 think no perfon has more fortitude and calmnefs of mind 
 in thofe occafions ; fo that I mall not be perfectly eafy, 
 'till I hear you are recover'd. 
 
 I AM much better qualify'd to write a religious diary 
 than an epiftle to a perfon of your Ladyfhip's wit and 
 diftin&ion. My fcene of aftion is my own chamber, 
 and all the ufe I have of human fpeech is talking to 
 <nyfelf. This weather feems to confine every body to 
 an inchanted circle, juft where they are they muft con- 
 tent themfelves to ftay. However, I am very well fa- 
 tisfy'd, as long as I hear of your welfare, and I am no 
 further inquifitive, whether the world is afleep or awake, 
 at reft or in agitation. 
 
 IF I don't write a diary, and, with Du Bartcn, 
 < Sing myfelf my civil wan 
 
 however, 'tis a praftice that I can't but approve in 
 other people : But, for myfelf, the daily recital of my 
 own follies would be an infupportabie mortification : 
 And yet a time will come, when I muft ftad a feverer 
 judge than my own confcience. Sometimes, for want 
 of greater novelties, I read the Map of Man in this au- 
 thor : 'Tis a perfedl pifture of human nature, and the 
 general caprice of mankind. 
 
 If Vm merry, Fm mad^ 
 
 Say the Ji<vere ; if Tm fad t 
 The merry griggs me mopljh call. 
 
 It '/ fnjjible for any man 
 
 At once to plcafc, do nvhat he can t 
 God, bimfelf, the ivorld and all ? 
 
 The two firft, however, are more eafily pleas'd thaw 
 the laft ; and 'tis not of much confequence, if Heaven 
 and confcience give their approbation, tho' the world 
 Should diffent, and make a different judgment. 
 
 VOL. II. F You
 
 98 LETTERS. 
 
 You could not more oblige me, Madam, than by 
 putting a fubfcription for me to Mr. Thomfon's poems, 
 which I hope wiU meet, as they defer ve, great encou- 
 ragement. 
 
 You may command me to copy my impertinences of 
 any kind in profe or verfe. I never conceal any of 
 my follies from you, but when I am doubtful whether 
 you will excufe them ; and when I am afraid you can- 
 not, I had rather half the world befides mould know 
 them : But when my vanity prevails, and makes me fe- 
 cure of pleafing your talte, I am impatient to fend you 
 my productions with the greateft parade and oitentation. 
 Whatever I can hope will be to my advantage, I will 
 never make a fecret. 
 
 I HAVE fent you a perfed mifcellany ; and to con- 
 clude, I wilh my Lord and your Lady (hip many 
 
 happy new years. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 
 LETTER LVIIL 
 
 2<7 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I SHOULD pity your Ladymip, but that it looks like 
 a fort of infolence, in the fplendor of your cir- 
 cumftances, to imagine that you are an object of com- 
 paffion. If it would not look like unpardonable va- 
 nity, J ftiould exprefs a world of good nature and ten- 
 dernefs for you, on this occafion ; but I believe you will 
 advife me, fince I have a mind to cry, and am lo cha- 
 ritably difpos'd, to find a more proper fubjeft for my 
 grief and coramiferation. If Lady and Lord 
 
 are in town with you, there is the lefs need of 
 
 niv . pi tv f r ^ey are innocent and reafonable delight. 
 
 I BEG
 
 LETTERS. 99 
 
 I BG you to let nobody read the inclos'd but Mrs. 
 
 - -. It is writ in imitation of ibmething of this 
 
 kind, which I read in manufcript, wrote by one who 
 died very young, and with great joy and fatisfadtion ; 
 which probably was from the fenfe of having in this 
 folemn manner renew'd the facred engagements made for 
 her in baptifm. No motive in the world, but that fin- 
 cere and tender concern I have for your happinefs, could 
 have prevail'd with me to fend it ; but when I con- 
 fider what an advantage it has been to my own refolu- 
 tions, I could not in confcience but let you fee it. 
 Oh ! may you {land unterrify'd, when the pillars of 
 the earth (hall tremble, and the mountains melt before 
 the face of the Almighty Judge. I mall not refign my 
 concern for you, but when I give up my life, nor I 
 think then neither. My friendship is not divided, and 
 that makes all my hopes and fears about mortal things 
 centre in you. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 A COVENANT <w itb GOD. 
 
 INcomprehenfible Being, 'who fearchejt the hearts and 
 tryefl the reins of the children of men, thou knoweft 
 my fmcerity, and my thoughts are all unveil'd to thee. 
 I am furrounded with thine immenfity j thou art a pre- 
 fent, tho' invifible witnefs of the folemn affair I am now 
 about. I am now taking hold of thy ftrength, that 1 
 may make peace with thee, and entering into articles 
 with the almighty God. Thefe are the happy days 
 long fmce predi&ed, when one Jhall fay, lam the Lord's, 
 and another Jhall call himfelf by the name of Ifrael, and 
 another Jhall Jubfcribe with his hand to the Lord ; and 
 they foall be my fans and daughters, faith the Lord Je- 
 hovah. Therefore with the moil thankful fmcerity I 
 take hold on thy covenant, and humbly accepting thy 
 propofals, bind myfelf to thee by a facred and everlaft- 
 ing obligation. By a free and deliberate aftion, I do 
 here ratify the articles which were made for me in bap- 
 . F 2 tifin ;
 
 loo LETTERS. 
 
 tifm ; I religioufly devote myfelf to thy fervice, and 
 intirely fubmit to thy conduft. I renounce the glories 
 and vanities of the world, and chufe thee as my happi- 
 nefs, my fupreme felicity and everlafting portion. I 
 make no articles with dice for any thing betides : Deny, 
 or give me what thou wilt, I will never repine, while 
 my principal treafure is fecure. This is my deliberate, 
 my free and fincere determination ; a determination, 
 Which, by thy grace, I will never retracl. 
 
 O THOU, by whofe power alone I {hall be able to 
 ftand, put thy fear in my heart, that I may never <fc- 
 fart from thee : Let not the world, with all its flatteries, 
 nor death, nor hell, with all their terrors, force me to 
 violate this facred vow. O let me never live to aban- 
 don thee, nor draw the impious that would deny thee ! 
 
 AND now let furrounding angels witnefs for me, that 
 I folemnly devote all the powers and faculties of my 
 foul to thy fervice ; and when I prefumptuoufly em- 
 .ploy any of the advantages thou haft given me to thy 
 dimonour, let them teftify againft me, and let my own 
 words condemn me. 
 
 ELIZABETH ROWE. 
 
 THUS have I fubfcrib'd to thy gracious propofals, 
 and engag'd myfelf to be the Lord's : And now let the 
 malice of men, and the rage of devils combine againft 
 me, I can defy all their ftratagems, for God himfelf is 
 become my friend. 
 
 O HAPPY day! tranfporting moment ! die :brighteft 
 period of my life ! Heaven with all its light fmiles on 
 thee. What glorious mortal can now excite my envy ? 
 what fcene to tempt my ambition could the whole crea- 
 tion difplay ? Let glory call me with her exalted voice ; 
 let pleafure with a fofter eloquence allure me ; the world 
 in all its fplendor appears but a trifle, while the infinite 
 God is my portion. He is mine by as fure a title as 
 eternal veracity can .confer. The right is unquestionable, 
 
 d*
 
 LETTERS, ici 
 
 ice unalterable, 
 the hills be di: 
 obligation Hull be cancell'd 
 
 the conveyance unalterable. The mountains fhall be re- 
 mov'd, and the hills be diffolv'd, before the everlafting 
 
 LETTER LIX. 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 IT would be unreaforable to expeft any part of 
 your Ladyftrip's attention 'till the triumphs of the 
 birth -day are paft, I love fhew and magnificence, I 
 confefsj but I have a much greater pkafure in hearing 
 the juft reflections of a mind form'd like yours, on 
 thofe fplendid tumults. In the midft of them, I fancy, 
 you are always at leifure, and perfectly difengaged in 
 your thoughts. If I can guefs at your temper, it is 
 free from the worft of plagues, ambition ; that, at- 
 tended with envy and reillefs fufpicion, muft ma-ke a 
 court-life a ftate of unmingled mifery. But, as you are 
 as truly great as you can be, this muft keep your mind 
 in fuch a fuperior and eafy fituation. 
 
 THE ftory of Lawnta is told with a natural and be- 
 coming eafe; but I read it in a very ill humour, be- 
 caufe you had not writ a line with it. If your Lady- 
 
 fhip had but taken the pains to put Lady 's 
 
 and Lord 's name in the empty fpace, it would 
 
 have given me fome delight, and I mould not have been 
 reduc'd to fold up the paper, and read my name and 
 place of abode on the fuperfcription, as I did over 
 and over, in order, firft, to fatisfy myfelf that you 
 were alive ; and fecondly, that the auguft aliembly 
 met in parliament had not made it treafon for women to 
 fpell ///, and write in a legible character. After I 
 F 3 had
 
 io2 LETTERS; 
 
 had made thefe rational inferences, I aflum'd my nativt 
 V again, and live i 
 thefe great truths. 
 
 peace and tranquility again, and live in hopes of fur- 
 ther confirmation of thefe 
 
 lam. Sec. 
 
 LETTER LX. 
 
 'To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I HOPE this letter will find your Ladymip fafely re- 
 turn'd to , and in the full enjoyment of 
 
 thofe natural and guiltlefs delights that Lady '$ 
 
 wit, and Lord 's innocence muft give you. 
 
 MILTONs morning hymn to the Creator muft be 
 a noble entertainment to a mind form'd like yours : I 
 
 aimoft hear the harmony of it in Mrs. -* 's beautiful 
 
 defcription of that performance. 
 
 I HAVE been reading the laft chapter of Ecchjiaftts,, 
 with many a melancholy paufe on the ftrength and jufl- 
 Jiefs of thofe figures that defcribe the decay of nature ; 
 'till I came to the clofe, where the duft return'd to the 
 earth, and the fpirit to its great original j here the fcene 
 brighten'd, and the reverfe to fo many gloomy memo- 
 rials was all unclouded and ferene. The face of nature 
 looks now fo wild and wintry, that 'tis a relief to the 
 mind, to think itfelf but a paffenger thro' fuch dreary and; 
 inhofpitable regions. As Mr. Watts fays, 
 
 Long nights and darknefs dwell betoiv, 
 
 With Jcarce a glimmering ray ; 
 fut the bright world to which <we go, 
 
 Is everlnjling day. 
 
 THE Ferfcs to a Friend have given me a very agree- 
 able image of a peaceful life, and as charming a fcene 
 of death. , 
 
 Cain
 
 LETTERS. 103 
 
 Calm and rejignd to fame thick Jhade retire^ 
 And on a grajjy turf in peace expire '. 
 
 Such a death is like falling into a gentle fleep, and has 
 nothing terrible in its approach. May the pious fuppli- 
 cation you have inclos'd afcend like incenfe from an 
 angel's hand, and bring back every bleffing on your 
 head. 
 
 IT muft be a joy to the public to have Prince Frederic 
 here ; 'tis a fort of confirmation of the nation's prefent 
 happincfs, and a prefage of their future tranquility. 
 
 NEVER was any thing more fprightly than your laft 
 letter, only you have turn'd the raillery moft unjuftly 
 on yourfelf j a crime I mould never have forgiven in any 
 other perfon in the world. 
 
 7 am t &C. 
 
 LETTER LXI. 
 
 T0 the fame. 
 
 ''"'I MS with great concern that I hear you are con- 
 J_ fin'd to your room, in the midft of fo many 
 lural delights, as the walks you are contriving muft 
 give you. Your Ladymip's defcription has given a very 
 beautiful fcene to my imagination, and entertain'd me 
 with a charming fylvan retreat : I hope my Lord and 
 you will long enjoy it. Not that I would wi(h your life 
 extended to the date of an antediluvian j you have a 
 more juft opinion of mortality, and I am glad you 
 give me an excufe to talk of thefe dull, or grave fubjects, 
 call them what you will, as long as you remember you 
 were born to die, I am fatisfy'd. And indeed you al- 
 ways exprefs yourfelf on this occafion with fo much 
 good fenfe and true greatnefs of mind, that it fets your 
 F 4 character
 
 104 LETTERS. 
 
 character in the moft agreeable light it -can appear in, 
 "When life is funk to the dregs, and into the lait difgrace 
 of nature, it is no great virtue to fly to death as a re- 
 fuge from indignity and contempt ; but in the pride of 
 nature, and amidft the flatteries of fortune, to look 
 calmly on the greateft of terrors, muft argue a fuperior 
 
 degree of virtue. 1 would talk on, but I am in too 
 
 fplenetic a temper to be entertaining ; and yet I never 
 bid you adieu with fo much regret : If half the ferious 
 wifties I make for you reach the fkies, you will be pof- 
 ieft of all the bleffings of this world, and the boundlefs 
 plealures of the next. 
 
 I AM, Madam, more fmcerely yours than can be ex- 
 prefs'd by formally fubfcribing myfelf 
 
 Four, &c. 
 
 LETTER LXII. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 MY Lord 's difgrace is a new inftance of the 
 vanity of human dependance. I could make 
 fome wife remarks on the advantage of an obfcure and 
 inferior ftation ; if a contempt of greatnefs did not look 
 like mere affe&ation : and it is often really fo, in per- 
 fons of an inferior rank j and yet 'tis- in, the humble 
 cottage that peace feems to make her facred abode. 
 
 Not boundlefs fonv'r, nor watchful guards that wait 
 In glittering pomp around the palace gat.r t 
 Nor anti-chambers *uiith attendants _/f//V, 
 The mincfs uneafy tumults ever Jiiird, 
 
 I THINK
 
 LETTERS. 105 
 
 I THINK the fable, by the archbifhop of Cambray, 
 of the old Queen and Pefrone/Ia, the moll entertaining 
 and moral thing of that nature I ever read ; only I was 
 angry with the country laf?, for not having more wit, 
 'till flie had made the experiment. 
 
 WITH every advantage of nature join'd to greatnefs, 
 you feem almoft tir'd of being a Countefs. If it would 
 not be an injuftice to my Lord , I mould cer- 
 tainly wifh you an humble cottager, with no cares nor 
 joys, but what your fleecy charge and country holidays 
 afforded. I mould fmcerely wifh fuch a metamorphofis, 
 but that I muft fink your hero from his dignity ; and 
 
 perhaps Lord would not eafily accommodate 
 
 himfelf to make garlands and paftorals, being much bet- 
 ter qualify'd to adorn a court. 
 
 THIS trifling is not fmcere ; for really I am in a 
 very fober and grave difpofition, and had much rather 
 talk of the next world than of this. You are not more 
 tir'd of vifiting days and aflemblies, than I am of 
 breathing and fleeping. I could wifh myfelf got fafe 
 beyond the thick darknefs j but there nature iTarts, a 
 thoufand fantaftic horrors guard the gloomy paffage ; 
 and yet 'tis inevitable, and mull be pafs'd. What ec- 
 ilafy muft break in upon the foul, the firft moment it 
 finds itfelf got fecure from all thofe threatning terrors ? 
 when death and hell for ever vanquifh'd, (hall leave it 
 in the quiet pofleilion of immortal joys ? But ftill the 
 grand event is undetermin'd, and a difmal uncertainty 
 clouds thefe gaudy hopes. If thefe bright expectations 
 mould fail, and the foul be doom'd to wander for ever 
 en fome dark unhappy ihore, banim'd for infinite ages 
 
 from the feats of light and joy. This doubt often 
 
 finks my fpirits, and makes me long to have the im- 
 portant affair decided. Your LadyfHp will certainly 
 think that I am tranfcribing fome honeil DifTenter's fer- 
 mon for your edification ; but I know you will pardon 
 me when I tell you, I have no end in difcovering my 
 F 5 own
 
 106 LETTER 3. 
 
 own concern, but to excite yours, who are equally fe- 
 terefted in this fubjeft. Heaven can witnefs, how fm- 
 cere my concern for your happinefs is ; the leaft part 
 of it is exprefs'd in fubfcribing niyfelf 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER LXIIL 
 
 70 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 IRECEIV'D an agreeable, I can't fay a long letter, 
 from your Ladyfliip. Nothing can be more obli- 
 ging than your invitation to M , and you would 
 
 pity me, if you could conceive how much I am di 
 iirefs'd, at once to exprefs my gratitude, and unwilling- 
 iiefs to leave this retreat. Compar'd to this, M 
 is a theatre, a court, nations, and languages, the whole 
 univerfe aflembled together : and it feems more decent 
 to fpend the lall part of life in privacy and retirement, 
 than to intrude on the Grand Monde fo unfeafonably. I 
 can't poffibly flatter myfelf that time ftands ftill, or that 
 my fun runs backward. The world feems to be at an 
 end to me, and the time is haftening, which will bring 
 a pathetic evidence of the truth of that melancholy de- 
 fcription in Ecchjlajles. When the fun and the light, 
 and the moo and the ftars Jhall be darkened, and the 
 clouds return after the rain ; when the keepers of the houfe 
 Jhall tremble, and thofe that look out of the <windo*ws 
 be dark ; when the daughters of mujic Jhall ccafe, and 
 the grafshopper Jhall be a burthen ; 'when the pitcher 
 Jhall be broken at the fountain, and the mourners go 
 about the ftreefs. 
 
 I AM
 
 LETTERS. 107 
 
 I AM as free of my quotations, as if your Lady- 
 fliip had never learnt to read, or was forbid by fome 
 popifh prieft to look into the Bible. 
 
 / am, Sec. 
 
 LETTER LXIV. 
 
 T0 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR reproaches are but toojuft, nor dare I add 
 to the guilt of violating my promife, that of 
 defending myfelf by any falfe excufes ; but you would 
 eafily pardon me, if you knew the fecret regret that this 
 infamous conduct gives me. It will certainly prevent 
 me from ever making a promife in the moft common 
 actions of life. But I am the only fufferer in this, and 
 my crime is my moft fevere and exquifite punifnment : 
 Your Ladylhip's converfation is a pleafure that of all 
 other human fatisfactions I find the moft unwillingnefs 
 to refign. Unlefs I can have this houfe intirely to 
 myfelf, I believe I mail remove ; and if I do, I may 
 contrive to be near enough to enjoy the advantage of 
 your fociety, and fecure my own freedom and retire- 
 ment : But juft at this inftant being diforder'd with 
 frequent pains in my head, the cold and filent dwellings 
 of the dead are the very feafofiable fubjecl of my 
 thoughts. 
 
 MY charity is very large, and from this catholic fpi- 
 rit I have often canoniz'd fome atheift or libertine for a 
 great faint ; but I am pleas'd to think I made an infalli- 
 ble judgment of Mr. ' --'s merit and piety.
 
 io8 LETTERS. 
 
 'Tis your Ladyfliip's talent to oblige people with 
 the beft grace in the world, you almofl prevented my 
 impatience for the pleafure of reading Mr Thomforfs 
 Hymn on Solitude, which is really fine. I fancy you 
 have read a pamphlet call'd the Iryal of the Witnejfes 
 of our Saviour's Refurrettion ; they fay it was wrote by 
 my Lord Chancellor * ; whoever was the author, 'tis- 
 worthy of a man of fenfe and piety. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 HYMN on SOLITUDE. 
 
 HAIL, ever-pleafing Solitude ! 
 Companion of the wife, and good f 
 But, from whofe holy, piercing eye, 
 The herd of fools, and villains fly. 
 
 OH ! how I love with thee to walk T 
 And liften to thy whifper'd talk ; 
 Which innocence, and truth imparts, 
 And melts the moft obdurate hearts. 
 
 A THOUSAND fhapes you wear with cafe, 
 And full in ev'ry fhape you pleafe ; 
 Now wrapt in fome myfterious dream, 
 A lone Philofopher you feem ; 
 Now quick from hill to vale you fly, -> 
 
 And now you fweep the vaulted flcy, C 
 
 And Nature triumphs in your eye : 3 
 
 Then 
 
 * Jt is now known that Mrs. Rcnvs was mifinform'd 
 as to the author of this excellent performance ; for which 
 the public univerfally believes itfelf indebted, not to the 
 late Lord King, but to an eminent and learned prelate.
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 Then ftrait agaiiv you court the (hade, 
 And pining, hang the penfive head. 
 A fliepherd next, you haunt the plain, 
 And warble forth your oaten flrain. 
 A lover now, with all the grace 
 Of that fweet paffion in your face J 
 Then, foft- divided, you affume 
 The gentle-looking HERTFORD'S bloom, 
 As, with her PHILOMELA, fhe, 
 (Her PHILOMELA fond of thee) 
 Amid the long withdrawing vale, 
 Awakes the rival'd nightingale. 
 A thoufand fhapes you wear with cafe, 
 And ftill in every fhape you pleafe. 
 
 THINE is th' unbounded breath of morn.* 
 Jufl as the dew-bent rofe is born ; 
 And while meridian fervors beat, 
 Thine is the woodland's dumb retreat j. 
 But chief, when evning fcenes decay, 
 And the faint landfkip fwims away, 
 Thine is the doubtful dear decline, 
 And that beft hour of munng thine. 
 
 DESCENDING angels blefs thy train, 
 The virtues of the fage, and fwain j 
 Plain innocence in white array'd, 
 And contemplation rears the head ; 
 Religion, with her awful brow, 
 And rapt URANIA waits on you. 
 
 OH, let me pierce thy fecret cell ! 
 And in thy deep recefies dwell ; 
 
 For
 
 .no LETTERS. 
 
 For ever with thy raptures fir'd, 
 For ever from the world retir'd ; 
 Nor by a mortal feen, fave he 
 A LYCIDAS, or LYCON be. 
 
 LETTER LXV. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 THERE are not many things capable of giving 
 ine a moment's uneafinefs; but your Ladyfliip 
 has ftill an intire afcendant over my thoughts, and can 
 raife my hopes and fears, juft as you think fit. I could 
 not have expedled more from any enjoyment in human 
 life, than I promis'd myfelf from your converfation ; 
 and if the ftars have any thing to do with the difap- 
 pointment, 1 have much more reafon than you to com- 
 plain of their malignant influence. However, the un- 
 pleafantnefs of the feafon, and the hopes of feeing you 
 in a more agreeable houfe in the fpring, lefien the af- 
 fliclion. Nothing but the natural lazinefs and inacti- 
 vity of my temper, will keep me from removing, for 
 'tis at prefent my real intention. Why has deftiny de- 
 fign'd you a Duchefs, and given you accomplifhments 
 to mine in a court ? Had your lot confin'd you to fome 
 neighbouring plentiful farm, how happy had I been, 
 every fummer evening to have croiVd two or three 
 flowery fields to vifit you, and have found you fitting 
 on fome grafly bank, making cowflip- balls for your 
 children, or gathering pionies in your garden, to drefs 
 up the fpacioi s chimney in your hall ? I will fay no 
 jnore, becaufe the impoffibility of fuch a happinefs does, 
 
 really
 
 LETTERS. in 
 
 really torment me. Adieu, ye gentle fcenes of inno- 
 cence and peace ; I muft quit the vifionary blifs for 
 greatncfs and titles, and addrefs myfelf to the Counted 
 
 ef ; who, I am afraid, will hardly pardon the 
 
 ftrange metamorphofis I have been contriving. 
 
 Fancies ana notions lue purfue, 
 
 Ikat ne^er bad being but in thought j 
 
 And, tike the Grecian artifl^ ivoo 
 
 1 'he image <uj ourfclves have wrought* 
 
 PRIOR. 
 
 I CANNOT but truly fympathize with your Ladyfhip 
 in your anxiety for Lord .. I liope he will 
 
 efcape, by the protection of Heaven, this wo*ft of hu- 
 man diftempers *. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 LETTER LXVI. 
 
 fT<? tbe fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 IFiNO, by a too guilty experience, that people in 
 low life take an infolent fort of pleafure in levelling 
 their fuperiors ; but I muft own, that fince I have de- 
 vefted you of your titles and equipage, you are grown 
 more intimate and familiar to my imagination, and my 
 affe&ion for you is heighten'd by converfmg upon an 
 
 equality 
 
 * The Small-pox.
 
 rr2 LETTERS. 
 
 equality with you. I have vifited your cleanly farm 
 without any ceremony, and wander'd in the green pa- 
 ftures flock d with lowing herds and bleating flocks. 
 Only your domeftics are not quite fo elegant as I could 
 wifh. Inftead of fuch nice romantic damfels as dlmida, 
 I meet harmlefs, unthinking, round fac'd lafies ; and for 
 powder'd beaux in mining liveries r mimicking opera 
 airs and fongs, I meet Colin and Lubberkin, with ruflet- 
 coats and fun-burnt face?, whittling fome aukward tune, 
 or roaring out a country ballad wifh voices as harfli as 
 their fellow animals which bellow on the mountains. 
 However, to make you amends for this, every thing 
 clfe is as elegant as the abode of fome fylvan goddefs ; 
 joy and feftivity furround you, and nature pours out 
 all her bleffings for you. But to leave thefe vifionary 
 fcenes, I can't but in reality admire the agreeable in- 
 nocence and regularity of your wifhes : The height of 
 your ftation has not perverted your tafte for that guilt- 
 lefs happinefs, which nature in her perfection teems 
 form'd to enjoy. 
 
 I CANNOT be unconcern'd for Lord , while 
 
 the fmall-pox is fo near you ; all my hopes are plac'd 
 in that heavenly guard, whom you have made your 
 confidence. 
 
 MRS. is now in town, where I hope your 
 
 Ladymip will find her always entertaining and eafy. 
 Envy is not my favourite vice ; if it were, 1 fliould be 
 as foon jealous of your favour, as of any thing on earth; 
 but inftead of that, I am pleas'd to find merit recom- 
 mend itfelf to your elteem in every appearance : And 
 
 J really think Mrs. 's good qualities will bear 
 
 the ftricleft and moft nice examination ; and a long ac- 
 quaintance with her, inftead of difcovering feults, re- 
 veals new virtues. If I remove, it will be feven or 
 eight miles hearer yon, to convince you that I am not 
 going to conceal myfelf from you. I had a thoufand 
 
 times
 
 LETTERS. iij 
 
 times rather enjoy your converfation in my own prf- 
 vate retreat, than fee you in fuch a crowded ftation aa 
 your own. 
 
 MAY the fmiles of Heaven brighten your paffage 
 thro' the gloomy tradls of life, and direft you in the 
 unerring paths to immortal joy. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 
 LETTER LXVII. 
 
 $o the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOU have given me a very agreeable image of 
 the gardens at Kenfington; but your Ladyfhip 
 muft have a perfect command of your temper, to turn 
 your thoughts to the planetary regions, amidft thofe 
 charming retreats, and all the fofl amufements of a 
 court ; where to my great fatisfa&ion, I find you can 
 think as feribufly, as if you were in a defart. I wi(h 
 your Ladyfhip would tranfcribe fome of your midnight 
 reflexions; when 
 
 A thoufand lamps of golden light 
 Hung high In vaulted azure charm the fight, 
 
 Dr. WATTS. 
 
 I HAVE guilt enough, Heaven knows, to humble me^, 
 but I may fafely aflert that I have hardly ever in my 
 life broke a promife deliberately ; and I beg your La- 
 dyfhip would now prevent my guilt, for if you do not 
 iafiit on the engagement, I am ftill free and innocent.
 
 ii4 L E T T E R S. 
 
 If I was twenty years younger, and could fhare in the 
 amufements of fociety with a good grace, I would at- 
 tend you 'till you were inclin'd in charity to yourfelf to 
 difmifs me ; but you would not advile me to ramble 
 'till I was blind enough to knock my head againft every 
 thing that itood in my way, nor 'till I was fo deaf as 
 not to hear without a fpeaking-trumpet. Your Lady- 
 {hip, I am fure, has too fmcere a value for the decency 
 of my character, to advife me to intrude on the world 
 'till I carry 
 
 In t*y face 
 
 Memento mori to each public pfate ; 
 While rival undertaken hover round, 
 And vaitb bit fade tbefexion marks the ground. 
 Dr. YOUNG- 
 
 I AM a hundred years older than when I faw you- 
 kit. 
 
 Ac/ numerous are our joys, when life 
 And yearly fame are falling of the few ; 
 But when we conquer life 3 meridian ftage y 
 And downward tend into the wale of age, 
 Tbey drop apace ; by nature fame decay t 
 And fame the Haft* of fortune fweep aivay ; 
 T/// naked quite of happinefs, aloud 
 We call for death , and foelter in ajhroud. 
 
 Dr. YOUNC. 
 
 I am, #r. 
 
 LETTER.
 
 LETTER LXVIII. 
 
 I'o the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 IT would be a great happinefs to be either infen/i- 
 ble, or independent on human events ; to be too 
 ftupid, or too wife, to be concern'd at the bright, or 
 gloomy accidents of life. If I had but fag.ichy enough 
 to be fatisfy'd, that whether you are fick or in health, 
 the liars will keep on their round, nature obferve its 
 harmony, and the fun bring back the day,, it might re- 
 ftore the compofure of my thoughts 5 but in the height 
 of my concern, I have not wit enough to reafon fo well 
 as this. Sometimes I endeavour to perfuade myfelf that 
 you are in heaven ; but in my fits of infidelity, that does 
 not give me the leaft confolation, and I am fo wicked 
 as to wiih you groveling on the earth among wretched 
 mortals again. At prefent I know not where to find, 
 nor where to place your Ladyfhip, to my full fatisfac- 
 tion, and perhaps lefs to your own : For I am not fure 
 you will thank me for fending you to the fkies fo early, 
 and before you find any reafon to be weary of this 
 world. 
 
 . THE Duchefs of 's dying at , feem'd 
 to be a melancholy circumftance, which feldom hap- 
 pens to people in a low rank ; to be in the hurry of a 
 journey, amidft the agonies of death, had fomething 
 difmal in it. I have not time to tranfcribe the fermon 
 
 I told Mrs. I would fend your Ladyihip, and 
 
 you may not be quite fo impatient for it, as you would 
 be for a new tragedy. 
 
 FOR fear you mould not have fpirits enough to read 
 a long, and which is worfe, a dull letter, I will fub- 
 fcribe 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER
 
 116 
 
 LETTER LXIX, 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR Ladyftiip's letter has freed me from the 
 mofl racking fufpence, and given an alacrity to 
 my mind, like eafe after pain ; and how agreeable an 
 alteration that is, you are very fenfible, by your reco- 
 very from your late tormenting diforder. But while 
 my Lord continues ill, I find you will not enjoy the 
 bleffing of your own eafe ; nor is it poflible to blame 
 a concern fo juft and graceful : And yet the height of 
 human pity cannot give a moment's relief in pain, that 
 moft intolerable of mortal evils. But tho' the power 
 of an empire could not exempt the greateit of mankind 
 from this one calamity, I may with a veiy good grace 
 wim your Ladyfhip many happy new years, as you are 
 the delight and admiration of the public. If I thank 
 you for your good wiffies of this for<t,. 'tis in mere ce- 
 remony ; for I mould intreat you to reverie your pray- 
 ers, if I were prepar'd for that important moment, that 
 mutt decide the grand uncertainty, whether I fhall be 
 miferable or happy for ever. Could that doubt be fully 
 refolv'd on this fide the fatal darknefe and gloomy paf- 
 fege of death ; were all the profpeft bright and un- 
 clouded thro' the horrid vale ; 
 
 / then Jbould clofe my weary eyes in peace, 
 And lire tc b composed upon my dujly bed. 
 Q Death! thy Jiltnt and ref re/king foa.de. 
 Would yield a long, an unmohjlid rfft 
 From all the fruit lefs toils and vanity 
 That dwell bekiu the fun. 
 
 I am, &e. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER LX3C 
 
 'To the fame. 
 
 THE new diftemper is at prefent very fatal in this 
 town, and my own fen-ant is ill in it ; which 
 has ,put me into a more ferious temper than ufual. I 
 would fain meet death, whenever it comes, without any 
 huriy.and furprize. The greateft pleafure I take, while 
 J am in this temper, is writing a folemn farewel to my 
 friends. I have been looking over one letter, I kept 
 by me, to your Ladyfhip, and am now going to bum 
 it, and write another, as I expect that 1 mall quit the 
 toil ,of life long before you. 
 
 And may fame gentle fpir-it have command, 
 To ivaft my foul to the celejiial land ; 
 Where I fair Delia'.; coming <will attend t 
 ''Till freed from earth Jbe thither foall afcend. 
 
 I am not at all in the fpleen, but it is not reafonable 
 for me to expet an exemption from a genafal difor- 
 der. As to this world, I have as much to do as will 
 employ me two or three hours, and then I am even with 
 all mankind, in point of human juftice. I have no 
 jeftitution to .mak^, nor the lead known injury to re- 
 pair ; and I verily believe there is not an ill-gotten 
 penny defcended to me from my humble but pious an- 
 ceftors. I lay a much greater ftrefs on this part of re- 
 ligion, that regards mankind, than I do on any height 
 of devotion, as neceffary as I think it to reconcile the 
 mind to death. 
 
 You will <pardon me, Madam, the familiarity I have 
 us'd, in running into a fubjeft fo particularly my own 
 concern ; it was not in the leaft my defign, but there 
 is a pleafure in talking freely to one in whom I fo in- 
 tirely confide. 
 
 lam, Sec. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTED LXXI. 
 
 To tbe fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 MR. Roll?* Milton is a charming amufement fef 
 . the quiet and folitary hours I enjoy. My Lord 
 has highly oblig'd me, by giving me an enter- 
 tainment fo perfectly agreeable. I would not decide 
 with the vanity of a critic ; but to me there appears 
 all Mitton 's beauty and fpirit, with die moft exaft tranf- 
 lation in the world. 
 
 YOUR Ladyfhip's laft letter charnVd me fo much, that 
 I got every word of it in my memory. I hope the 
 powers of darknefs will never be able, with all their 
 policy, to draw you to their party, for then their al- 
 lurements will be refiftlefs. I would rather think your 
 arguments oppofite to their intereft, and that you would 
 perfuade me from an infignificant life, that has nothing 
 in view but a private felfifh happinefs. Mr. Ihotnfon has 
 furniiVd me with fome of the moft agreeable lines in the 
 world to exprefs my thoughts. 
 
 / iv ant to be alone, to find fome Jhade, 
 Some folitary gloom ; there to Jhake off 
 This weight of life, this tumult of mankind '} 
 And there to lijlen to the gentle voice, 
 Ike figb of peace. 
 
 'Tis a noble * tragedy; I can't help preferring it to 
 Mr. Addiforfs Cato. The language and fentiments have 
 al! a peculiar grandeur. The following lines give me 
 a very good opinion of the author. 
 
 Sophonifta.
 
 LETTER S. li$ 
 
 r f . Te myfterious fonu'rs^ 
 
 bole ways are enter gracious^ e*uer juft^ 
 As ye think wiftfi, bejl, difpofe of me. 
 But whether thro" 1 your gloomy depths I wander, 
 Or on your mountains walk, give me the calm t 
 The fteady*, fmiling fou!, where luifdom Jheds 
 Eternal wifdom, and eternal joy. 
 
 Jn reading this, a fort of divine contentment fpreads on 
 the mind ; I feem to want nothing, but to be wifer and 
 better ; of which you will think there is evident ne- 
 effity. 
 
 I AM beyond expreflion oblig'd to your Ladyfhip for 
 the offer of the pretty peaceful apartment, fo fuited to 
 -my tafte ; and your neighbourhood is what I mould 
 prefer to all earthly enjoyments: But ftill 1 want fa 
 be alone, tho' not for fuch meditations as Majfiniffa's. 
 The limits of life are very Ihort, and I feem to have 
 nothing to do but to take a decent farewel of human 
 things. As for the common pretence people have for 
 haunting public places as long as they can ftand, that 
 of doing good ; I can't in my conference make any 
 fuch pretence, nor can I be pofitive 'tis ever my defign. 
 I mould think it a very romantic attempt, to reform the 
 world. 'Tis hardly poffible in the decline of life to act 
 an applauded and exemplary part : Virtue then, tho* 
 ever fo real and unaffected, looks like neceffity, rather 
 than choice : People feem reduc'd to goednefs, and to 
 Hy to religion as a retreat. 
 
 I WANT to be interrupted, like Sanf&o, I can't rea- 
 fon long without fome convenient paufe and intermif- 
 fion ; which will be at prefent as feafonable for your 
 Ladyfhip, as for 
 
 roar, ice. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER LXXII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOU have reafon to be thankful for this little in- 
 terval of quiet and leifure, which I have fuffer'd 
 you to enjoy amidft your country amufements ; but as 
 
 Sooner or later all things have an end, 
 
 the period of my Clence, and your Ladyfhip's tranqui- 
 lity is .expir'd ; and if I mould not moleft you, the 
 preparations for a birth-night will foon require your at- 
 tention to the pomps and vanities of the world ; unlefs 
 you -can bring yourfelf to be as compos'd and devout 
 amidft the magnificence and gallantry of a drawing- 
 room, as Dr. Watts, in his height f charity, imagines. 
 However, he has done your Ladymip -but .juftice, ia 
 admiring your conduft, while you can move and fhine 
 
 On this incJianted fpot of treacherous ground, 
 Nor give your virtue, nor your fame a wound. 
 
 BUT I have a concern of a different nature that lies 
 at my heart for you. This inlighten'd age is bleft with 
 fo many Beau apoftles and polite miflionaries, that I am 
 in fome pain for fear you mould be converted to Hea- 
 thenifm. 'Tis fo modifh a thing to turn Pagan, that 
 we have need of all the fortitude Chriftianity can in- 
 fpirc, to own a finking, tho' in reality, a glorious caufc. 
 May the heavenly powers preferve you from this grand 
 apoftafy ! I have a concern fo fincere and ardent for 
 your immortal intereft, that I cannot command my tears, 
 whfle I rhink it poflible you fhouid be perverted from 
 
 the paths of facred truth. 1 muft make a vifit to 
 
 your farm to divert the gloom of my imagination ; and 
 never were the fcenes of innocence and peace more 
 charmingly defcrib'd than in your letter. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 LETTER
 
 121 
 
 LETTER LXX1II. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR laft letter, tho 1 too fhort, gave me an un- 
 fpeakable fatisfadtion, at a time when very few 
 things in the world could have given me the leaft plea- 
 fure : For I have had fome fhort .fits of this univerfal 
 diftemper ; and want of health, without a chain of 
 reafoning, is a clear demonftration of the vanity of mor- 
 tal enjoyments. The only circumftance in your Lady- 
 Ihip's letter that gave me fome uneafinefs, was your ill- 
 fcefe ; but as you feem'd to think it a flight diforder, I 
 hope you are by this time in perfect health. 
 
 I AM overjoy'd to find I had no reafon to fdpect 
 you of infidelity. You would forgive my impertinent 
 fufpicions, if I could make you fenfible, how fincere 
 my concern for your happinefs is : Indeed it is not equal 
 to the importance of the event, in which immortality 
 is concern'd ; nor is it pofiible, in this gloomy ftate of 
 things, to have apprehenfions fuitable to the grandeur 
 of the fubjeft. 
 
 I AM reading - 's hiftory with great fatisfa&ion.' 
 I know your Ladyfhip will pity my ftupidity, that can 
 read a hiftory in folio. I had once the fame fprightly 
 taile, to deipife every thing that had the air of plain 
 unartful truth and probability; but now it is much 
 more agreeable to me than the gayeft fiftion. 
 
 MRS. ' is charm'd with Lady and 
 
 Lord ' ; yet how uncertain are human expecta- 
 tions ! Her telling of the death of Lady . . . 's little 
 .t>y g ave me f ine uneafy thoughts. 
 
 VOL. II. G 'Tis
 
 122 LETTERS. 
 
 *Tis well for you that I am not quite eafy ; if I 
 was, you might not be fo foon free from the imper- 
 tinence of 
 
 Ycur t &c. 
 
 LETTER LXXJV, 
 
 70 the famt. 
 
 "MA0AM, 
 
 I CAN NOT excufe, tho' I ftill find a great propensity 
 to indulge myfelf in wliat you call a criminal tran- 
 quility ; but I am fo fond of your good opinion, that J 
 ihould be content to have my vices pafs for virtues 
 with you, and would fain have you believe this averfion 
 to ceremony and dependance, rather proceeds from great - 
 nefs of mind, than from pride : Nor am I lefs inclined to 
 impofe on you than on myfelf; for whom I feldom want 
 partiality, and never fail in the exercife of the moll ex- 
 tenfive charity. And yet I have too much fincerity 19 
 perfuade you, that 'tis rather my duty than my happi- 
 nefs that I confult by this retreat from the public ; and 
 if I fhould confefs, that an abfolute freedom from all the 
 formalities and cuftoms of the world is a part of my 
 felicity, you would think I have a very odd .notion of 
 jiappinefs, and will certainly advife me to regulate fuch 
 a licentious and irregular difpofition ; and not to fancy, 
 that to wake or fleep, to fit or ftand, to laugh or cry, 
 at my own leifurc, is a point of liberty worth ftrug- 
 gling for. 
 
 I KNOW not what orderly .and governable inclinations 
 fome people have acquir'd ; but to me it feems a vaft 
 privilege, to be ruftic or polite, wife or impertinent, 
 
 without
 
 LETTERS. 123 
 
 without being cenfur'd, or accountable to my fellow- 
 mortals. But this may perhaps be foothing myfelf in a, 
 guilty indolence ; for people are not fent into the world 
 as idle fpe&ators, to wake and fleep, and ilare at the 
 vain fhew for a few years, and then to make their exit. 
 
 You find, Madam, I have not the vanity to pretend 
 to a devout retirement, nor affedl any reclufe notions 
 of religion ; my thoughts of that are juft the reverfe, 
 and all eafy and fociable. 
 
 I HAVE form'd many a vifionary plan of coming 
 
 nearer to , and appearing, ami retiring, juft as 
 
 your Ladymip's commands, or my own caprice Ihould 
 direftj but Something or other has ftill fruftrated nay 
 attempts, while I have been moft fmcere in my defigns, 
 and entertained myfelf with a thoufand agreeable fcenes, 
 in the view of fuch an happinefs. By my deliberation, 
 you will think I fancy myfelf juft coming into the world ; 
 lince I can find leifure to form fchemes of diftant feli- 
 city, and purfue them as flowly, as if I had an hundred 
 years leafe of life before me. 'Tis juft the contrary ; 
 icy negligence arifes from the narrow limits in which 
 human life appears to my view ; which feems fo con- 
 lin'd, that 'tis hardly worth while for mortals to change 
 the fcene and vary the aftion. 
 
 Sivift as the fun revolves the day t 
 We hajien to the dead. 
 
 Dr. WATTS. 
 
 I HAVE been reading the life of the Countefs of War- 
 ftulck with great pleafure, and the more becaufe fbme 
 beautiful parts of her character refembled yours. May 
 the laft part of your life (however diftant) be as glo- 
 rious ! Tho' it is not very modifh to pray, perhaps it 
 may not be altogether unneceflary; and in afldng bleff- 
 ings for you, nay devotions are moft unaffe&ed and An- 
 ere, 
 
 1 am, Sec. 
 G2 LETTEK
 
 LETTER LXXV. 
 
 *?o the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 THIS wintry weather has fpoil'd all my projects, 
 and confin'd all my views of happinefs to the 
 fblitary limits of a clean room and a clear fire. I find 
 I muft fufpend the hopes of feeing your Ladyfhip to 
 Come diftant and unknown futurity; which, whether 
 ever it will arrive, is beyond the ken of mortals. If 
 it mould not, 'tis but having a little patience, and we 
 lhall meet, I hope, where the height of virtuous friend- 
 mip and every other joy will be complete : 'Till then 
 I could quietly fit down in fome verdant (hade, and wait 
 the fummons to happier worlds : Heaven blefs you ! if 
 I never fee you in this again. But the pleafure of con - 
 veriing with you, is not a fatisfaftioa I can refign with 
 half the coolnefs and moderation that you have repre- 
 fented. Your Ladyfhip has indeed fpoke for me with 
 much more wit and eloquence than I could ever com- 
 mand ; but if I had made a fpeech for myfelf, it would 
 jhave been very different, and much more agreeable to 
 the real fentiments of my heart. 
 
 You ape not more delighted with a country farm, 
 than I am with an old parfonage-houfe, in a little vil- 
 lage, where I was lately a few hours j fo fituated to my 
 content, that I feem'd to want nothing but your reflec- 
 tions and fociety, to form a complete happinefs. A 
 large garden and orchard, half modern and half anti- 
 quated, long codling hedges, old-fafhion'd bowers, elms 
 and apple-trees, green -fquares and maple- bufhes, all in 
 the moft gay and agreeable confufion imaginable : Thefe 
 fcenes infinitely charm'd me ; and, with the unaffefted 
 piety and politenefs of the family, gave me an exceed- 
 ing favourable opinion of their principles, and a fort of 
 fufpicion of roy own, ~^ If I had made the tour of 
 
 France,
 
 LETTERS. 125 
 
 Trante, and feen the gardens of Verfailles, it would 
 have been excufable to have been fo communicative of 
 my fatisfaftions ; but to trouble your Ladyfhip with the 
 defcription of old monafteries and box-hedges, is fome- 
 what impertinent I confefs. 
 
 YOUR Ladyfhip will, I hope, be half afleep, when 
 you read my letter, for, at the fecond reading, I per- 
 ceive fome inconfiftencies in it ; but writing nonfenfe is 
 not a very humbling circumftance to me, becaufe it is 
 the effeft of neceffity rather than choice : All I can do 
 in this cafe is to caft myfelf on the charity of my 
 gentle and candid reader, which has been my conilant 
 fefuge in many diftreffes of this nature. 
 
 I HAVE been entertain'd with fome very beautiful 
 remarks on the expreffion us'd in the facred writings, of 
 the Patriarchs dying and being gathered to their people. 
 It has reconcil'd me to aflemblies, by giving me fuch a 
 grand idea of that auguft and fparkling affembly, to 
 which the fpirits of the juft have been gather'd fince 
 the firft ages of the world. As little as I love crowds, 
 I am exceedingly pleas'd with the thoughts of that num- 
 berlefs concourfe of the great immortals, join'd toge- 
 ther to pafs an endlefs duration, in an immenfe variety 
 of joy and complete felicity. 
 
 While they rove 
 
 Forever thro" 1 neiv regions of delight ; 
 Where pleafure leads her everlajling train. 
 Beauty and yoath, in all the rofy bloom 
 Of charms immortal, and unfading life. 
 
 THE mufe defcends, and in dull profe 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 G 3 LETTER
 
 126. 
 
 LETTER LXXVL 
 
 30 tbe fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 IT gives me a fincere pleafure to hear that your 
 Ladyfhip got fafe to , and found Lady 
 
 well, and Lord recovering. I ftay'd 
 
 'till the middle of the next week, after you left the Eatb^ 
 in which time I fpent a few hours agreeably with my 
 
 Lady ; who brings back to my remembrance 
 
 One of the moft amiable characters I ever knew, and 
 which gratitude will never fuffer me to forget. 
 
 I SHOULD be miferable if my mind was always in 
 that impertinent fituation, that I find it, amidft the noife 
 and amufements of this world ; a train of inconfiftent 
 images, a fucceffion of chimera's run thro' my imagi- 
 nation, without the leaft propriety or order. I could 
 compare my head to nothing but the cafe of a Raree- 
 jhcvj ; and if the figures had been vifible, I might have 
 entertained the mob with, the ridiculous pageantry. How 
 Superior to thofe vanities are the fatisfadions of reafon. 
 and virtue ! If religion is a cheat, let me be flill de- 
 ceiv'd j let me indulge the gay delufion, and recreate 
 my foul with the tranfporting expectation. Stand forth,, 
 ye glorious phantoms, and entertain my attention in all 
 your vifionary fplendors f Let me be well deceiv'd, and 
 at leaft be happy 'tiH death fhall put a period to the 
 pleafing dream. Were the Chriftian heaven as fabulous 
 as the poets Elyjium, I would meet the height of hu- 
 man cenfure and contempt, rather than be undeceiv'd 
 and cur'd of the charming delirium. But the prefent 
 pleafures of virtue are to me a full demonflration how 
 bright its future reward muft be. 
 
 YOUR Ladymip has highly oblig'd me, by wifliing me 
 among the angels ; the moment 1 am. fit for that fociety,. 
 
 kfc
 
 LETTERS. 127 
 
 let me refign my breath, and join the illuftrious aflem- 
 bly. But if the prayers of departed faints can prevail, 
 you fhall not ftay long behind me : Confider, there are 
 filver trumpets as well as golden harps to entertain 
 you. 
 
 7 am, &c. 
 
 LETTER LXXVII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 YO U will think me very blind to my own follies, 
 if I tell your Ladyfhip, that I have an averfioa 
 to be impertinent and troublefome, and that I never am 
 fo without great caution and diffidence of myfelf ; but 
 'tis an experienc'd truth, and I feel a fecret anxiety, leail 
 this letter mould moleft you in fome moments of tran- 
 quility, when you would fain be at reft from any inter- 
 ruption. And this is the third vexation I have given 
 
 you, fince I heard from you; but Mrs. 's account 
 
 of your illnefs has given me many uneafy thoughts. 
 
 No advantages can fecure from difeafe and death"; 
 the laft account I heard of Lady Scudamore was very 
 melancholy j but me muft be happy, be the event what 
 
 it will. I am in great pain for Lord fince I 
 
 heard the fmall-pox is fo very mortal, and I wifh this 
 letter may find you In the country. 
 
 IN my dull way, I have been diverting myfelf with 
 
 copying one of the prints of Albanus ; but 'tis no matter 
 
 what I have been doing, nor do I fuppofe you are much 
 
 oncern'd to know. However, I long to hear what you 
 
 G 4 have
 
 ii2$ LETTERS. 
 
 have been doing or thinking; for I begin to fear yoa 
 have only an imaginary being, and are but fome fpark- 
 ling idea, which in the flight of a poetical fancy I have 
 been delighted witlu 
 
 I HAD writ fo far in my letter, when your Lady/hip's 
 came with the fad tidings of Lady Scudamore^s death : 
 All that allays the gloomy event, is the certainty of her 
 happineft. But to the public there is no reparation 
 for fuch a lofs (when you are excepted.) But 'tis not 
 long before her virtuous friends will again enjoy her fo- 
 ciety; while her favour'd lot has call'd her firft to th 
 ieats of peace and full felicity. 
 
 I SHOULD be extremely griev'd, if I thought your 
 Ladyftup's retirement from public places was the effeft 
 of want of health or fpirits : 'Tis a pleafure to me to 
 believe, that it is only owing to good fenfe, and a juft 
 opinion of human life. 
 
 / am, Sec. 
 
 LETTER LXXVIII. 
 
 To the fame- 
 
 MADAM, 
 >"" MS a pleafure to me, ta hear your Ladyfhip 
 
 J[ complain of a hurry, and to find you are not 
 fetisfy'd with that thoughtkis unmeaning fort of happi- 
 nefs. Leifure and freedom are certainly the principal 
 ingredients of human felicity ; and while you want thefe, 
 I mould certainly beftow my companion on you, if it 
 would not look like infolence, within the obfcure limits 
 
 of a folitary chamber, to pity the Countefs of . 
 
 But your Ladyfhip will excufe me, when I own, it is 
 
 only
 
 LETTERS. 129 
 
 only with regard to the next world, that I fee any dif- 
 advantage in your ftation ; and yet every difficulty gives 
 a fplendor to your example, and makes the vidtory more 
 glorious. 
 
 THE verfes following were writ by a man of good 
 fenfe, who fince he wrote them, is gone to make the im- 
 portant difcovery in the invifible world. 
 
 Hark! my gay friend, that folemn toll 
 Speaks the departure of a foul ; 
 
 ""Tis gone thafs all we know j but where, 
 
 Or how th" 1 unbody'd foul does fare, 
 
 In that myfterious world, God knows t 
 And God alone, to whom it goes ; 
 To whom departed fouls return, 
 To know their doom, to Jhine, or burn. 
 
 Ah ! by what glimmering light we view 
 The unknown world we're going to ? 
 Heaven has locked out the future age. 
 And planted darknefs round the jiage. 
 
 Thii hour, perhaps, our friend is 'well, 
 Death-Jiruck the next, cries out, Farewel, 
 I die ! And then, for ought we fee, 
 Ceafes at once to breathe and be. 
 
 Then launched from lifers ambiguous Jhore t 
 Ingulph'd in death appears no more ; 
 demerge where unfeen ghofts repair, 
 In dijlant worlds, we know not where. 
 
 Spirits fly fwift ; perhaps "tis gone 
 A thcufand leagues beyond the fun,. 
 
 G 5 Or
 
 ijo LETTERS.. 
 
 Or twice ten thoufand more twice told j 
 E'er the forfaken ctay is cold. 
 
 And yet 'who knvws, the friends <uie loii'ct'). 
 (They may not be fo far remold} 
 Only the veil of flejb between, 
 May oft glide by us, tho 1 unfeen ? 
 
 While fwe (their lofs lamenting)- fay r 
 They're out of hearing, far anudy j 
 Guardians to us^ perhaps, they're near t 
 Conceal* d in vehicles of air. 
 
 I am> 
 
 LETTER LXXIX. 
 
 T0 the fame. 
 MADAM,. 
 
 YO U have juft reafon to think my filence a greater 
 bleffing than my letters. I am afraid this is really 
 the cafe, and that your Lady {hip rejoices, at this interval 
 of tranquility I have given you. However, as I have 
 in fo abftracl; and difmterefted a manner confulted your- 
 quiet, after this long paufe, I hope you will indulge 
 me in purfuing my own happinefs; which, however 
 felfiih the motive, I muft own is my prefent defign. 
 I am impatient to know whether you are in a hu- 
 mour for this world, or the next. 'Tis not envy, that 
 makes me wifh this may not be your refting place, but 
 pure chriftian charity. If you were exempt from thofe 
 clouds that fometimes caft a Ihadow upon all human 
 blifs, fuch a ferene ftate might be fatal to your futura 
 hope, 
 
 NOT.HLNS.
 
 LETTERS. 131 
 
 NOTHING but mere dullnefs and want of invention 
 
 has kept me from writing another epiftle to Lady . 
 
 There is no conquering infuperable difficulties, nor {hi- 
 ving againft nature and neceffity. 
 
 LET me beg the favour of your Ladyfhip to write 
 in a little time. My practice is no rule for you ; if I 
 give myfelf a full difpenfation from the rules and forms 
 of this world, 'tis becaufe I think I am going to an- 
 other fett of beings, and muft Ihortly practice cuftoms 
 and manners different from the ceremonies of mor- 
 tals : But youth and fprightly years are ftill before you, 
 and the world will not yet give you an abfolution from, 
 its rules and precepts. However, you may command 
 
 Mrs. to let me know you are alive, if ihe has 
 
 not made a vow never to write to me again. The 
 hearing from you will be a fmcere pleafure to 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER LXXX. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 I HOPE, tho' your health has fome little interruptions, 
 your life will long be a joy to your friends, and a 
 peculiar bl effing to your own family. 
 
 IF I mould be fo unhappy, as not to return juft fuch 
 an anfwer as you would have me, 'tis becaufe I can't 
 help it. Human aftions are not always voluntary ; how- 
 ever we boaft of choice and freedom, fome invifible 
 powers put obftacles in our way, and prevent the mod 
 promifmg defigns. I find it by experience, and am now 
 
 under
 
 132 LETTERS. 
 
 under the influence of a fort of fatal necefllty, wtich 
 makes it abfolutely impoflible for me to wait on your. 
 Ladyftiip at this time : But I fmcerely believe I {hall be 
 in London, fbme time after Chrijimas ; and then, if you 
 have any leifure moments, or I any fprightly ones, next 
 to Heaven, they mail be at your command ; which will 
 be much better than teizing you with my company from 
 the riling to the fetting fun, 
 
 from morn to noon^ from noon to dcnxy night. 
 
 If this appointment fails, 'tis my prefent real defign to 
 wait on you in the fpring ; but, at this time, I hope you 
 will excufe me, becaufe it will be a prodigious inconve- 
 niency, if not abfolutely impollible for me to come 
 now. 
 
 You have all the fweetnefs of temper that ever any 
 human being could boaft, and that gives me the affurance, 
 even at this juncture, to beg of your Ladyftiip to fend 
 roe fomething or other that I have not feen. J can't tell 
 whether you have feen thefe verfes, which were fent 
 me by the author,. Mr. Birch ; I fancy they will pleafe 
 you. 
 
 You have a better opinion of me than I deferve : I 
 have not wrote any pious meditations of late. The 
 warmth of devotion, perhaps, as- well as other paffions, 
 declines with life ; but I hope the calm, the reafonable 
 and folid part of religion ftill will be improv'd. What- 
 ever changes there are in my mind, my friendftiip for 
 you is an equal and immortal flame, and will outlive the 
 ceremony of fubfcribing myfelf 
 
 Tour,, &c.
 
 LETTERS. 13,3 
 
 On the DEATH of a beloved Wife. 
 
 Written by her husband on her coffin* 
 
 WHILE pining anguiih, wild defpair, 
 Increafe my pangs, prolong my care ; 
 Depriv'd of all my foul held dear,. 
 Inchanting joy and love flncere ; 
 While round the gloomy fcene's difptay'd, 
 And death ftill deepens ev'ry fhade ; 
 Sad, fdent, dark,, the pomp of woe ! 
 Shall forrow's eye forbear to flow ? 
 Flow ftill, ye tears ! ye fighs, complain f 
 But fighs and tears alike are vain ! 
 
 SEE there all pale and dead me lies ! 
 Forever flow, my ftreaming eyes.f ; 
 Fly, Hymen, with extinguim'd fires ? 
 Fly, nuptial blifs, and chafte defires ! 
 Chora's fled, the lovelieft mind j 
 Faith, fweetnefs) wit, together join'd. 
 Dwelt faith,, and wit, and fweetnefs here ? 
 O view the change, and drop a tear ? 
 Once in thefe- eyes" each grace was feen,. 
 And love and mildnefs flione ferene : 
 Once foft perfuafion tun'd her tongue^ 
 As truth fincere, and fweet as fong : 
 Once this cold hand could touch the lyre, 
 And ev'ry tender thought infpire : 
 Now finking to its parent clay, -j 
 
 All chang'd, the body feems to fay, > 
 
 Thus life, a fhadow, fleets away ! J 
 
 Q WHU-
 
 ij4 LETTERS. 
 
 O WHISPER flill, thou voice divine!' 
 Thine be the lore, attention mine. 
 And while this awful objeft lies 
 Exposed before my weeping eyes, 
 Teach me, fome genius from on high, 
 Like her to live, like her to die ; 
 To emulate the paths fhe trod, 
 All humane, gen'rous, great and good ! 
 Like her the rage of death to charm, 
 And ev'ry fling of pain difarm : 
 Rife as fhe rofe, a fpotlefs foul, 
 Who aim'd at joys beyond the pole ; 
 And raptur'd on the verge of day,. 
 Smil'd to behold the fhining way. 
 
 BUT, hark! the fadly-folemn bell 
 Sullenly founds my laft farewel. 
 Lo ! round the corfe the plaintive throng 
 Stow- moving, filent ftalk along. 
 The torch that lends its mournful light, 
 The myftic pray'r, the fun'ral rite, 
 The weeping friend, th' expecting ground, 
 The filent horror all around, 
 Have tempted Sorrow from her cave, 
 And now fhe hovers o'er the grave j 
 Now finks our hearts, impearls our eyes, 
 And bids a gen'ral groan arife ; 
 Exclaims that man was doom'd to mourn, 
 And fits in pomp to guard the urn. 
 
 'Tis done ! O ever dear, adieu ! 
 
 Each tender name is loft in you. 
 
 Adieu,.
 
 LETTERS. 13$ 
 
 Adieu, thou once kind, lovely fair ! 
 Soft fpring of joy, relief from care f 
 O reft ! may Love, with ev'ry Grace, 
 And ev'ry Virtue, guard the place ! 
 While me receives the lonely bed, 
 Sad r proftrate, filent as the dead ! 
 Reftlefs I prefs the well-known place, 
 And vainly feek the dear embrace ; 
 While flow and drear the minutes roll, 
 And anguifh racks my inmoft foul. 
 
 But fee! what heav'nly pow'r ferene 
 Darts gentry thro' the gloomy fcene ? 
 *Tis fhe ! ingliding from above ; 
 The fame her form, the fame her love. 
 
 WEEP'ST thou, my deareft ? weep no-more f 
 Tho' tranfient fcenes of life are o'er: 
 New worlds now open to my view ; 
 Blifs, knowledge,, virtue, boundlefs, true r; 
 Where fouls with focial raptures glow,. 
 While fin and vengeance reign below. 
 Hence nightly I, thy guardian pow'r,. 
 Forever concious of the hour 
 That join'd our hearts, defcend to keep 
 My deareft charge j to watch thy fleep, 
 Hint fofter dreams } to chafe away 
 Black error's inift, and bright difplay 
 The form of virtue to thy fight ; 
 Dart o'er thy foul a ftronger light; 
 In reafon's voice to whifper ftill ; 
 To purer blifs direft thy will i 
 
 A beamy
 
 j. 3 6 LETTERS, 
 
 A beamy cloud around you throw, 
 And vicwlefs guide you as you go. 
 Lo ! (few fhort moments roll'd between) 
 I prefent change the darkfome fcene j- 
 Dilpel the awful lhades of death, 
 And gently eafe your parting breath ; 
 Glad hail to you the realms above, 
 Dear, bleft, immortal as our love ! 
 Thus while we leave thy lifelefs clay, 
 To fome bright orb thy foul convey, 
 Where virtue, truth, and pleafure join, 
 
 And raptur'd fay This feat be thine! 
 
 Here knowledge great as fouls can know, 
 Shall purge the errors learn'd below ; 
 Enlarge thy pow'rs, improve thy fight, 
 And mew thee truth in native light. 
 See there yon happy {hades employ 
 Their hours in blifs and focial joy ;- 
 High-rais'd on virtue's eagle wing, 
 The patriots aft, the poets fmg f 
 With purer fires the lovers glow, 
 Than youth or fenfe infpire below. 
 Here join we then the kindred race, 
 That fprings to meet our foft embrace ; 
 Or in fome fweet feqtfefter'd grove 
 Mix flame with flame, and love with love. 
 Hence wing'd with thought excurfive fly, 
 From orb to orb, and range the fky, 
 View wifdom, pow'r, and goodnefs mine 
 Thro' nature's frame ; their fource divine. 
 
 O call thefe fcenes to thy relief, 
 
 Bright future fcenes ! and calm thy grief: 
 
 Livs
 
 LETTERS. 137 
 
 Live happy ; nourifh iiill the love, 
 
 That bleft on earth, and joins our fouls above. 
 
 SHE fpake, fhe fmil'd, me foar'd awayj 
 While comfort glanc'd a healing ray. 
 
 Aug. 3, 1729. 
 
 LETTER LXXXL 
 
 iT0 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 THIS is not my farewel-letter j nor can you hope 
 for that, 'till I take my leave of the fun and 
 ftars. My friendfhip will follow you 'till then, nor ex- 
 pire with that period ; 'tis commenc'd for immortality, 
 and is abftraft from all human motives or intercft. Nor 
 really, Lady, am I fo much to blame as I 
 appear ; for I had not your kit letter, 'till after mine was 
 
 fone by the poft. It was beft that it happen'd fo ; for 
 was taken fo violently ill, two or three days after, 
 in the new fort of diftemper, that you would not have 
 thought I had a week to live, and I am hardly now re- 
 cover'd. You can't be angry, without doing violence 
 to the benignity of your own temper. Confider, if I 
 haveaboaft, a joy on earth, 'tis your good opinion. I 
 hope I have not been guilty of a breach of promife, 
 in not waiting on you, becaufe I am fo careful never 
 to promife any thing abfolutely. Let me beg you to 
 write, if 'tis nothing but to infult me with my ill de- 
 ferts, and your own fuperior merit ; which mall be moft 
 readily acknowledg'd by 
 
 Tout; &C. 
 
 LETTER
 
 13* 
 
 LETTER LXXXir, 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, Nov. 26, 1731. 
 
 9 HTMS your cafe rather than my own, that I have 
 
 Jl confulted in this long filence : But in fpight of 
 moral fpeculations, I find a great part of my happineft' 
 depends on your Ladyfhip's welfare and good opinion ; 
 and when I don't hear from you, I grow anxious for 
 you, or diffident of myfelf. 
 
 YOUR defcription of the Duke of Loraln is too beau- 
 tiful to be read with mere infenfibility : However, 'tis 
 only in fome moments of vanity, that grandeur and equi- 
 page charm me ; for if I know myfelf, I mould certainly 
 chufe that peaceful retir'd life, which Heaven in great 
 indulgence has determin'd for me. But I am not loft in- 
 fuch a dead calm, as to be indifferent to all the finning 
 characters in the Grand Monde j for it would extremely 
 oblige me, if your Ladyfhip would fometimes mention 
 
 your acquaintance with Lady and Lord ; 
 
 of whofe merit I mould certainly be fenfible, if they had 
 neither titles nor quality, and liv'd at the next country 
 farm. 
 
 I SINCERELY intended to be at Hampftead, this win*- 
 ter; but now the fatigue appears nearer, I find myfelf 
 as likely to make a pilgrimage to- Loretto, as take a 
 journey to London* 
 
 'Tis too late, or I would write to-'Mrs ; her 
 laft letter gives me real uneaftnefs. I muft have been 
 guilty of fome fantaftical precifenefs, that me mifunder- 
 flands ; for my foul ftands clear of malignity, or de- 
 fign'd injury. But this is the world of errors and mi- 
 ftakes ; which will be all fet at rights in the regions of 
 purer illumination. 
 
 / am, Sec. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER LXXXIIL 
 
 To tie fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 WHETHER I fpeak or am filent, my fenti- 
 ments for you are full of good -will and benig- 
 sity ; of this Heaven is a conftant witnefs, who fees 
 my fecret and moft retir'd wifties for your happinefs. 
 The friendfhip fuch merit as yours infpires, muft be fu- 
 perior to common forms and ceremony, and govern'd 
 only by its own noble di&ates. I muft confefs, that I 
 fometimes accufe myfelf of a too negligent fincerhy ; 
 but this your Ladyfhip may eafily excufe, when you 
 confider I have made you perfonate a rural nymph fo 
 long, that I have almoft forgot you are the much hap- 
 pier Count efs of. .That advantage is indeed 
 
 your Ladymip's, as well as Lord >'s ; for whom 
 
 I am iincerely affiifted to hear he has had fo fevere a> 
 fit of the gout : But if any thing could eafe fuch anguifti, 
 it muft be the tender and unaffefted humanity your 
 aftions exprefs. But I muft confefs, when I am fo fel- 
 fifh, fo interefted, (as I fometimes am) to trouble my- 
 felf for nobody's happinefs but my own, I then wifh 
 your lot had been in the humble tranquility of a lowec 
 flation : Becaufe among the human race there is no per- 
 fon whom I am half fo much inclin'd to treat with free- 
 dom and intimacy ; nor who could entertain my thoughts 
 with pleafures more rational and fublime, if fate had 
 
 not plac'd you at fuch a painful diftance. 1 fup- 
 
 pofe, after this confeffion, you will repine at your ftars,. 
 for making you a Lady, inftead of a gentle (hepherdefs^ 
 and placing a coronet, rather than a flowery wreath on 
 your head. 
 
 YOUR Lady (hip has oblig'd me by naming Lady 
 " and Lord \. tho' you leave me only to
 
 'i 4 o LETTERS, 
 
 conjecture the little graces and elegancies, that muft at- 
 tend their fociety. It will be great clemency in your 
 Ladymip to write very foon to 
 
 Tour, Sec, 
 
 LETTER LXXXIV, 
 
 To the fame* 
 
 MADAM, Apr. 14, 1732. 
 
 YOUR affliaion touches my very foul. I find it 
 eafy to conceive the anguim you endure for Lord 
 
 's and Lady 's illnefs, at a time when 
 
 your own diforders require fo great a fhare of patience. 
 But as Heaven has favour'd you with every circumftance 
 of human happinefs, perhaps, this allay may be necef- 
 fary to fix your thoughts on a fuperior felicity, and give 
 you a full evidence of the vanity of human things. 
 Your Ladyftiip's fituation in life, efpecially in an in- 
 terval of unmolefted profperity,- gives me as much an- 
 xiety, as if I faw you Handing on fome dangerous pre- 
 cipice ; and (if I don't myfelf mifs the road to heaven) 
 it delights me to think how fincerely I mall congratulate 
 you on your fafe arrival thither, thro' fo many fnares 
 and infmuating temptations. I {hall certainly have a 
 peculiar affection for the celeftial guardian that attends 
 you, ajid is your invifible proteftor in a thaufand un- 
 teen dangers. 
 
 MRS. "is ftill in great danger, tho 1 her phy> 
 
 fician has, with very good fuccefs, been, in the hands of 
 Heaven, hitherto the means of preventing the return of 
 her diftemper ; but the dizzinefs and weight (he feels in 
 her head make her afraid to walk in the flreets, for 
 
 fear
 
 LETTERS. 141 
 
 fear of falling. Tho' (he Jias ftill a .great deal of na- 
 tural vivacity, a fudden death js a circumilance that 
 keeps her in a perpetual anxiety; as me apprehends 
 Jierfelf the next moment reeling into her grave, and 
 Juft ready to hear her eternal fate decided. This does 
 not however make her fallen or gloomy, but fills her 
 mind with great and important ideas ; and I muft own, 
 I never found her converfation more agreeable. I 
 Jcnow you will excufe this long account of a perfon fo 
 inconfiderable in this world ; but in the next, I believe 
 Ihe will find ,a fplendid diftin&ion. 
 
 I RETURN you a thoufand thanks for the Minute 
 Philofopber, which tho' I have not feen, 1 know I fhall 
 .like ; your approbation being the greateft authority 
 with 
 
 Tour, Sec. 
 
 LETTER LXXXV, 
 
 3"0 the fame.. 
 
 MADAM, April 22, 1732. 
 
 YOU have given me a real and extenfive fa&fac- 
 tion, by the * book you fent me. I read it 
 with a fecret gratitude to the author, as being a bene- 
 faftor to mankind, in endeavouring to fecure their 
 higheft intereft : Nothing can be writ with more argu- 
 ment and vivacity, nor more feafonably, in this junc- 
 ture of apoftaiy from the Chriftian religion. 
 
 * jilafbron, or tbt Mit.ute 
 
 THI
 
 LETTERS, 
 
 THE following lines are, I fear, only a poetical 
 flight ; for I dare not afk myfelf whether I mould be 
 feally fa difinterefted. 
 
 G be thy infreji fafe, thy caufefecure 1 
 Whatever cloudi hang on my future hours, 
 I pafs them all thy f acred vjill be done ! 
 1 am of no importance to myfelf \ 
 1 could refegn my being, Jink again 
 T>o my .fir ft nothing, could thy glory rife, 
 When I am blotted from the rank of being. 
 
 IT is a fenfible pleafure to me, to hear that Lord 
 * and Lady . have got rid of their 
 
 coughs ; but it is a fetisfadion of a higher nature, to 
 .find the Grand Monde has no charms for your Ladyfhip. 
 
 I HOPE you will find . a retreat as charm - 
 
 'frg as Mr. 's-defcription has made Icknvorth-Park* 
 
 While books and walks divide the vacant time, 
 Unconfcious all of folly or of crime j 
 'While you each morn refpire the balmy air, 
 And breathe it out again in praife and pray* r. 
 
 This is certainly going to heaven with a very good 
 grace, and {hewing what virtue is, in her native elegance 
 and beauty ; 'tis making the paths of philofophic life 
 more fmooth and deKghtful than all the popular ways 
 of vice and luxury. 
 
 FOR want of public amufements, I muft entertain 
 your Lady/hip with my own private fatisfaclions ; and 
 communicate the pleasure I have had in reading the 
 lafl fcene of the life of Dr. Rivet, who was tutor to 
 one of the princes of the houfe ,of Orange. No fcene 
 f earthly grandeur (as much as I admire trumpets and 
 
 kettle-
 
 LETTER S. 143 
 
 kettle-drums) ever excited my envy, like the triumph 
 ,and fortitude, with which the pious man met the uni- 
 verfal terror. Thus let me quit the more, and launch 
 out into immortal joy ! It will be more feafonable to 
 &y mv P ra y ers another time : But you will pardon this 
 xcurfion from 
 
 Tour, Sec. 
 
 LETTER LXXXVI. 
 
 70 tbe fame. 
 
 MADAM, May 47. 1732. 
 
 YOUR Ladymip is the lalt perfon on earth t 
 whom I would put myfelf in a ridiculous light; 
 And yet 'tis a misfortune to which I am often reduced, 
 in fpight of all my folicitude to avoid it. However I 
 -have fome excufe for my obftinate attachment to obfcu- 
 rity and folitude, from your own charming defcriptioa 
 of it. You have furniih'd my imagination with a glo- 
 rious fcene of fylvan delights at -; but I am con- 
 tent with the range of two or three flowery fields hedg'd 
 round with hawthorn, that are near me ; of which I 
 peaceably take poffefiion, when I would indulge a ferious 
 thought, and place myfelf in a fituation fuperior to 
 earthly fears or hopes. In thefe ferene moments your 
 -company would be as agreeable as the vifit of an angel. 
 Whatfoever ftupidity you reproach me with, I am ne- 
 ver fo abftraft, as to think of you with indifference : In 
 my moft ambitious excurfions, when I am got beyond 
 the period of all human things, I promife myfelf the 
 jmoft refin'd pleafure, in a happy and unlimited duration; 
 when you will be improv'd in every excellency, and I 
 incapable of any folly that may leiTen your eileem. You 
 i already
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 already fpeak the language of immortality in what you 
 fent me. May all thofe bleffings that infpire your foul 
 with fuch exalted gratitude, be continued to you ! 
 
 IF you 1cnew what joy every letter of yours gives me, 
 you would not call it molefting me, tho' you did me 
 -the favour, to fend me a billet by every winged wanderer 
 that makes its airy tour this way. In a poft or two I 
 will return you my thanks, at large, for the obligation 
 of your laft letters ; for at prefent I have only juft time 
 for the ceremony of fubfcribing myfelf 
 
 Your, &c. 
 
 LETTER LXXXVIL 
 
 70 the famt. 
 MADAM, Sept. 6. 1732. 
 
 IWA s in hopes every poft would bring me a letter, 
 but at laft my gay expectations vanifh'd into track- 
 lefs darknefs. and gave me inquietudes of another na- 
 ture ; fince you are not exempt from the ills of vulgar 
 mortals, and 'tis poflible for your head to ake, tho* di- 
 ftinguimed with a coronet : However, as it is not my 
 bufinefs to prefcribe to you, or confine you to your 
 chamber, when you are in perfeft health ; I will difmifs 
 that gloomy reafon for your filence, and rather think it 
 voluntary. 
 
 I AM fatisfy'd you muft approve of my delay, in not 
 coming at this juncture, when the fmall-pox rages fo 
 much here : If my fears are ever fo whimfical, if there 
 is but a fhadow in then, there is ftill fome merit in 
 
 this
 
 LETTERS. 145 
 
 this caution, fmce 'tis on Lord 's account. You 
 
 cannot think me fo ftupid, fo infenfible to all that is 
 charming and elegant in life, as not to have a tafte for 
 fuch converfation as yours. There is not among the 
 human race a mind fo form'd a temper a turn of 
 thought and manner of expreffion, that pleafes me like 
 
 yours. I talk more to Mrs. than to any body 
 
 elfe, becaufe flie admires, and is capable of entering 
 into the elegancies of your character. And yet, after 
 all, there is a ftrange fort of fatality, that puts feme 
 unconquerable obilacle or other in the way of my in- 
 clination and happinefs : However, I can't but hope 
 for one mort interval of that felicity, on this fide the fun, 
 in fome future happy period. 
 
 lam, &C. 
 
 LETTER LXXXVIII. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, Oftob. 8. 1732. 
 
 I HAVE been putting your letters and papers in order. 
 When I die, I defign to leave them in "s 
 hands, as a truft facred to friendmip and virtue : Thofe 
 papers and my pidlures being the only things I find 
 an inclination to carry with me. You cannot imagine 
 how the fettling this, and fome other little affairs in 
 order, fooths and pleafes my imagination. No perfon 
 ever took more fatisfaclion in preparing for a journey 
 of pleafure, than I do in fetting things in a juiV deco- 
 rum for that laft and grand removal. But I am ftill 
 fenfible no forecaft can prevent many natural fears, and 
 accidental exigencies that may opprefs the foul in that 
 important aftion. 'Tis impoiiible to know, 'till the .ex- 
 Vo L. II. H perimep?
 
 146 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 periment is try'd, what pains of body or anxiety of 
 mind, may add horror to the fatal darknefs. But fmce 
 it mull be pafs'd, 'tis of the utmoft confequence to en- 
 deavour to prevent a furprize, by growing familiar with 
 death and all its attendant terrors. The gloomy mo- 
 narch has been met not only with compofure and de- 
 cency, but with a fort of pious infult and triumph : Of 
 which a late inftance of one that I knew dwells on my 
 memory, who in the bloom of life, and the affluence 
 of fortune, left the world with the fame graceful eafc, 
 that an angel, who had juft finjm'd his meflage, would 
 fpread his wings, and return to his native ikies. I 
 will not talk of dying any longer, for fear you fhould 
 ^reproach me for not putting it in practice. 
 
 1 am, &c. 
 
 LETTER LXXXIX. 
 
 w 
 
 <fo the fame. 
 
 Novemb. II. 1732. 
 HE N *will the drudgery of life be oVr, 
 And nve bt landed on a happier Jhore ? 
 
 Your Ladyftup's part of life has been too fhort to plead 
 the privilege of being difmifs'd fo foon, however im- 
 patient you feem to .advance in your race .of life, and 
 ,put yourfelf forward ; while youth and nature forbid the 
 impoffible attempt. But, I believe, there are few of 
 your fair contemporaries will find themfelves inclin'd to 
 keep you company, fo that your expedition will not be 
 prevented by a crowd. And yet to bid adieu to the 
 charms of youth, and refign the bloom of beauty with 
 
 fuch
 
 LETTERS. 147 
 
 fuch an inimitable grace as the verfes in one of your 
 Ladyfhip's letters exprefs, is more to be envy'd than 
 the gay eft parade of life. However, this is a period 
 -only to be defir'd by a virtuous mind, as an introduction 
 to immortal youth and felicity. 
 
 Come, gentle age ! to me tbou dojl appear 
 No cruel objeff of regret or fear ; 
 Thy Jl eating flep I unreluftant fee, 
 Nor would avoid, or iuijh to fly from tbee. 
 
 THE * books in vindication of revelation I have read 
 with a real pleafure, and will return them to you with 
 the firft fafe opportunity. Your Ladyftiip's approbation 
 is the very point of my ambition ; and if the -\-Incbanted 
 Fore ft, or any thing of mine pleafes a tafte fo juft as 
 yours, I am intirely fatisfy'd with my (elf. 
 
 I AM perfe&ly fenfible of the obligation I have to 
 you for your four laft agreeable letters ; and if I was 
 in the Grand Monde, that fcene of aftion, and you was 
 buried alive in a cavern, and had nothing to fay but 
 what occurr'd in your own thoughts, I mould certainly 
 have the charity to write twenty letters for one. 'Tis 
 a long time fmce I read a news-paper, but I am juft 
 going to get the account of the birth-night, that I may 
 make fome conjecture how your Ladyflup fpent the 
 happy time. 
 
 YOUR Lady mip is too much an infidel, to believe 
 
 ftories of apparitions, and would laugh at me for fuch 
 
 relations ; but if I could have got a defcription of fome 
 
 H 2 lights, 
 
 * Revelation examined with Candor, 2 vol. 
 
 f A tranflation from Tafi, publifhed in the third part 
 of Litters Moral and Entertaining,
 
 148 LETTERS. 
 
 lights, that were feen in the iky, from fome intelligent 
 mortal, I would have fent it : But fome tell me 'twas 
 like one thing, and fome another, fo that I cannot at 
 prefent tell what it was like : But 'tis a certain truth, 
 that I am 
 
 Tour, &C. 
 
 LETTER XC. 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, Jan. \. 173$. 
 
 YOUR letters are favours fo free and unmerited, 
 that I cannot complain of the intermiflion, with 
 any manner of decency ; tho' I fuflfer fo much by it, 
 that I mould certainly have interrupted your peace, if 
 I had known precifely whither to dired for you. For 
 yours, in a literal fenfe, is the journey of life; a pil- 
 grimage, without a metaphor. As the weather is now 
 milder, I hope your Ladyfhip will be freed from your 
 cold, and your confinement to a chamber, at your 
 charming hermitage. Your Ladyfliip's defcription of 
 it, and the park at Richmond, are beyond the charms of 
 poetry. I mail never forget that there are fuch agree- 
 able perfons in being, as Lady and Lord ; 
 
 tho' your Ladyfliip feems refolv'd never to mention 
 them. You will be pleas'd, when I tell you, that in- 
 ftead of writing moral eflays, I have employ'd my lei- 
 iure, this winter, in the harmlefs amufement of drawing 
 landfcapes ; and fometimes have dar'd the inclemency of 
 the flcy, by walking in the fields this frofty weather: 
 The profpeft exa&ly anfwer'd your comparifon of a 
 landfcape cut in white paper. 
 
 Jam, Sec. 
 
 LETTER
 
 149 
 
 LETTER xci. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, Jan. 24. 173*. 
 
 YOUR letters would never be dull to me, tho' the 
 words were put together as accidentally as Epicu- 
 rus'*, atoms ; I am perfuaded, even then, they would ap- 
 pear with fome peculiar beauty and fpirit. 
 
 I AM eafily perfuaded your Ladyfhip would have 
 
 pafs'd your time agreeably in Lady 's converfa- 
 
 tion, if it had been in a place lefs charming than you 
 have defcrib'd your hermitage. "Pis a pleafure to me 
 
 to hear that my Lord has fo perfectly reco- 
 
 ver'd his health ; both as it regards your Ladyfhip's hap- 
 pinefs, and is fo great a bleffing to the public. Nature 
 would have inftrufted Lady in the art of draw- 
 ing without a matter. It is a fort of hereditary quali- 
 fication in your family. It delights me to hear that 
 
 Lord refembles Mr. either in perfon 
 
 or temper ; for never could human nature poffefs more 
 perfection. I have been reading Mr, Fielding's new co- 
 medy, The Modern Hujband ; and can't help thinking it 
 a good play, if nature, wit, and morality can make 
 it fo. 
 
 YOUR Ladyfiiip gives me a fecret pleafure, while 
 
 you flatter me with the thoughts of feeing you at j 
 
 and yet I check thofe gay expectations, and number 
 them with thofe vifionary delights, with which people 
 pleafe and delude themfelves to the laft period of life. 
 It fuits my circumftances better to reflect that the night 
 is near; 
 
 The fatal night of death, when I Jhall ' JJeep 
 Unaffi-ve in the damp and gloomy grave, 
 
 H 3 The
 
 I|Q LETTER S. 
 
 The period bajlens on, that puts an end 
 To cv^fy <vain dejign : My trial comes, 
 The folemn hour dranvs near, that muft decide 
 My everlajiing flats ; and no appeal 
 from that tribunal e'er will be alloiu^d. 
 
 I WISH your confinement, and the hurry of the town,, 
 may not increafe your cold. I can't help having the 
 greateft concern for your health ; tho' your Ladylhip 
 almoft forbids me to wifh you many happy new-years. 
 Indeed there is fo fmall a mare of happinefs falls to 
 the lot of the moil favour'd mortals, that I have fome 
 Icruple of wifhing any perfon a long life j unlefs they 
 are fuch, as I think, may juftly defpair of mending their 
 circtrmftances in the life to come. 
 
 YOUR Ladylhip has made Mrs. happy, by 
 
 naming her: We are both mightily pleas'd with an 
 Amazon's head which I have drawn, which we fancy, 
 is exactly your fide-face; there is as much beauty in 
 the air and feature, (if my pencil has not fail'd in co- 
 pying the original) as ever fparkled in a human face. 
 
 b#i/a 
 
 LETTER XCII. 
 
 * r- 
 20 we fame. 
 
 MADAWT, Feb. 2. 173!. 
 
 YOU have reafon to rejoice, that my paper pro- 
 mifes but a (hort letter, for my thoughts are at 
 this inftant in a very gloomy fituation. I can't flatter 
 ayfelf that this chagrin rifes merely from a difmterefted 
 
 concern
 
 LETTERS. 151 
 
 concern for the public calamity, unlefs my friends were 
 all immortal and fecure from general danger. Your 
 Ladyfhip's laft letter gave me the fatisfaftion to know 
 that you are recovering from this fatal diforder ; and I 
 hope your next will inform me, that thofe of your fa- 
 mily on whom your welfare depends, are all pafl 
 danger. 
 
 I AM fmcerely oblig'd to Mrs. . , for the news- 
 papers. 'Tis a pleafure to me fometimes to know the 
 pofture of human affairs. It would be giving yourfelf 
 unneceflary trouble, to doubt whether you mould tran- 
 fcribe a thing from a public paper, for fear of moleft- 
 ing me with the agitations of the bufy world; as long 
 as the arches of the fky are ftanding, and the pillars of 
 the earth fix'd, I am at reft : And I hope, if they were 
 broken, I mould look with ferenity on the glorious con- 
 fufion, and welcome the happy period, that will bring 
 a brighter fcene in view. 
 
 THE new fever rages here, and is very fatal; and 
 yet I can't help wifliing you in the country, for the 
 air muft be lefs contagious here than in London. Where- 
 ever you are, may the peculiar protection of Heaven 
 guard you from the arrow that flies by day, and the 
 peftilence that walks in darkneh. Quoting fcripture would, 
 have a fanatical air to one of lefs piety ; but as you 
 have join'd that, to the greatcft elegance of tafte, and 
 the molt refin'd manners, I {hall efcape the ridicule I 
 fliould expeft from an inferior character to your Lady- 
 flup's. 
 
 To my great joy I have juft received a letter from 
 you, which brings me the welcome news, that you, 
 are all well. I have had a fhort fit of the fever, to 
 reproach my ingratitude to Heaven, for a feries of un- 
 interrupted eafe, with which my days have been bleft. 
 However, I am ftill confm'd to a tenement of clay ; my 
 fpirit cannot yet get releas'd from its mortal fetters 5 I 
 H 4 fpeak
 
 152 LETTERS. 
 
 fpeak it with a fort of confufion. Whenever the wel- 
 come period comes, I fhall injoin Mrs. to let 
 
 you know it; but I (hall never intrude on your folitude : 
 The fcandal of what people call walking, would induce 
 me to keep myfelf invifible, whatever pleafure I took 
 in attending your retirements. 
 
 YOUR good wiflies will add to my brother's happi- 
 nefs ; and it will be no detriment to yours, if I fubfcribe 
 myfelf 
 
 Tour > &C. 
 
 LETTER XCIII 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, March 26. ^733. 
 
 YOU have conquer'd the difficulties of an art, 
 which will be a certain amufement in fome of the 
 moments of chagrin, which no ftate of life is exempted 
 from. This thought pleafes me as much as the charm- 
 ing picture you have favour'd me with, which has been 
 the delight of my eyes ever fmce I receiv'd it. 
 
 MA y Heaven reftore you again to a ftate of perfect 
 health, and crown your days with every circumftance of 
 felicity. I hope you will not be negligent of yourfelf ; 
 for a relapfe into this new diforder feems to be more 
 dangerous to people than the firft feizure. This cold 
 weather increafes my concern for you. 
 
 SUCH a character as yours, gives me too great an 
 opinion of human nature, to fuffer me ever to prefer 
 folitude for itfelf ; and I am fo for from defigning ta 
 
 fedufe
 
 LETTERS. 153 
 
 feclude myfelf from fociety, in the bli&ful bowers, that 
 'tis a pleafure to me to think of meeting countlefs 
 numbers of gentle fpirits, as elegant and refin'd as yours. 
 And yet, according to my prefent apprehenfion, I mall 
 find fomething peculiarly agreeable in your fociety ; from 
 \vhich I promife myfelf a moft lading and fincere de- 
 h'ght, when we meet in that fplendid concourfe, which 
 fliall come from every tribe and language on earth, to 
 form the numerous afTembly. 
 
 IF ever you attempt copying your own piflure, let 
 jne beg to have it, and I will never afk another ; that 
 will be the higheft obligation you can lay on 
 
 Tour, Sec. 
 
 LETTER XCIV. 
 
 T'o tie fame. 
 
 MADAM, April 1733." 
 
 Iff is a fort of mortification to me, to believe that I 
 \ need make no apology to your Ladymip for my 
 filence ; but this is certainly the cafe, and it would be 
 mere vanity in me to make excufes, for what you will 
 rather thank than reproach me. I need not inform you, 
 that the fpring is now in its bloom, that daifies and 
 cowflips adorn the verdant field. 
 
 While for As on branches per -ch' 'J, or on tie iving, 
 dt nature's joyful reftoration Jtng ; * 
 
 HO-TO fweet the morn! bo<w gentle is the night! 
 HQVJ calm the caning ! and the noon how bright I 
 
 H 5 THE
 
 154 LETTERS, 
 
 THE news of popular tumults and discontents turn? 
 my envy of fplendor and fuperiority into ferious compaf- 
 fion, to find that no heights of merit can be a defence 
 from public cenfure, and the ingratitude of a happy, 
 tho' uneafy people. 
 
 IT would be cruelty tomyfelf^ to renounce the only 
 joy I have, which is your conversion ; but that, like 
 all other earthly pleafures, is no fooner enjoy'd, but 
 'tis patt ; and 'tis no more than an agreeable dream, a 
 pleating fpeculation, which* without the leaft fatigue^ 
 fency can entertain herfelf wkh. You will think I have 
 reafon'd all human things into mere madows. 
 
 but expanding thought, and life is nothing. 
 
 _ j/?ges and generations pafs aiuay,. 
 jtnd 'with rejt/ilefs force* like waves o'er waves ^ 
 Roll down th* it-revocable Jtream of time,. 
 Into eternity*} unbounded depths. 
 
 YOUR Ladyfliip has highly oblig'd me by the expec- 
 tation of another pidlure of your drawing. I have pro- 
 mis'd Mrs. that of Cornelia when I die ; with 
 which ftie feems fo overjoy'd,. that I'm afraid me will 
 wifli the time ihorten'd: However, it will not be 
 
 y"o thee y J}eath t my fleeting moments tend y . 
 In tbee the hurritane of life mufl end. 
 i lho > murmuring waters from the ocean crowd,. 
 From tbee by nature no return's alkmu'd: 
 For tho 1 the feas have leave to ebb and faiu y . 
 The Jlr earns of life muft always forward go.. 
 
 A THOUSAND bleflings attend you! be the celeftial 
 ur protection in every known or unfeen danger ! 
 
 I am* &c. 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER XCV. 
 
 ST0 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, May 9. 1733. 
 
 YOUR Ladyfliip's defcription of the hermitage en- 
 tertains my fancy with the mod inchanting pro- 
 fpect on earth. If I did not expect a more pleafurable 
 fituation, after a few fliort months or hours axe paft, I 
 fhould envy you the happinefs of your charming retreat; 
 which might be, and certainly is, a haunt for angels, 
 when you are there. 
 
 The guard of "Providence is Jure about you, 
 And you were born to biffs an impious age. 
 
 IT gives me a fincere pleafure to hear Lady - >* 
 is got into your Ladyfhip's way of thinking ; with that 
 advantage, how fparkling will her character be ! while 
 the fpirit and gracefulnefs of her blooming years fet 
 off every virtue. Be it eafy, or fevere, it muft attract 
 love and imitation, and ftrike the fenfes as well as the 
 foul ; the heavenly flame will mingle with the luftre of 
 her eyes, and the beneficent difpofuion make itfelf vifi- 
 ble by a thoufand namelefs graces. 
 
 *Ti s the effect of a perfect humanity, that your La- 
 dyfliip will give me leave to flatter myfelf, that my 
 filence is not a thing wholly indifferent to you : If it 
 was, it will always be an act of charity in you to con- 
 ceal it ; for the value I fet on your good opinion, will, 
 perhaps, be the laft attachment, from which my mind 
 will be difengag'd in this world. 
 
 WHENEVER I think of feeing your Ladyfhip once 
 more, the firft thought fets a fcene of pleafure in my 
 view; but it is foon damp'd, when I confidcr what a 
 
 venerate*
 
 156 LETTERS. 
 
 venerable figure people make, at my time of life, among 
 perfons of your gayer years and temper. My good 
 
 Lady , and Mrs. ,' with feveral others- 
 
 of my grave contemporaries, rife in a vifionary farce 
 before me ; and by their reverend examples confirm 
 my refolution of concealing the concluding follies of 
 life in a decent retirement. Nothing appears more dif- 
 mal to me, than being a dead weight, a fort of fa- 
 lemn incumbrance to fociety. This is, perhaps, being 
 too nice, and refining beyond what a ftate of mortality 
 will permit. 
 
 IN meer compaffion to your Ladylhip I leave off, 
 and fubfcribe 
 
 Your, Sec. 
 
 LETTER XCVL 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, June 2, 
 
 YOU have made me very happy with another 
 pifture of your drawing, which I have but juft 
 jreceiv'd. I am glad you don't take a fancy to old her- 
 mits and philofophers j your devotees are young and 
 handfome, and pleafe with Coypefs airs, who I confefs- 
 is my prefent favorite painter : nor do I wonder that his 
 defigns are entertaining to Lady . . 's elegant tafle 
 &nd genius.. 
 
 NOTHING can be fo fparkling to my imagination as 
 your hermitage. You have brought back the fylvan 
 'cenes to their primitive grandeur, and a farm houfe ap- 
 pear* as polite as a palace. Initead of an air of low 
 
 life,
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 IHe, your cows and Iheep give it the appearance of the 
 
 patriarchal wealth and plenty ; and Lady , I 
 
 prefume, guards her fleecy charge, in as genteel a habit 
 as any poetical ihepherdefs that ever grac'd the ftage. 
 
 I WISH you may like the * Dialogue on f>e<votioni 
 for your approbation would be more to the young au- 
 thor, than that of half the univerfe befides. 
 
 / am. Sec. 
 
 LETTER XCVIL 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 T would be mere vanity fn me; to* mate an apology 
 for leaving you fo foon ; without any affectation, or 
 giving myfelf airs of modefty, I fmcerely think my ab- 
 fence never requires an excufe : However, if your La- 
 dyfhip knew what inquietude and regret I felt, when I 
 difobey'd you, it would atone for my obftinacy. I can- 
 not exprefs the remorfe it gave me : Not that I lepent 
 
 my journey to ; for it has certainly furnifh'd 
 
 xne with fome agreeable images both of beauty and vir- 
 tue, which perhaps are not to be found in any other 
 place, or at leaft not fo- fuited to my tafte. 
 
 I SHOULD have begun my fapan table as foon as I 
 came home, if Les Penfees de Pafcal had not accidentally 
 come in my way, and given my thoughts a fituation fu- 
 perior to all earthly things. In reading that book I 
 
 lofe 
 
 I 
 
 * By the reverend Mr Tbc*
 
 f$$ LETTERS. 
 
 Jofe every care, and grow independent on all below the 
 flues : The trifling hopes and fears of human life vaniih 
 before a more important intereft, while I yield to the 
 evidence of thefe juft refle&ions. 
 
 * IL ne faut fas avoir fame fort ele<vee, pour com- 
 Prendre, qu'il n>y a point icy de latisfatfion 'veritable & 
 folide, que tout nos plaijtrs ne font que vatiite, que not 
 maux font infinii, &f qu'enfin la mart, qui nos menace a 
 chaque inftant, nous doit mettre en peu a"annees dans un 
 etat eternel de bonkeur ou malbcur. Uimmortalite de 
 fame eft unt fbofe qui nous import e jl fort t , & qui tiout 
 toucke Ji profondement, qu'il faut avoir perdu tout /enti- 
 facnt, pour etre dam I* indijfer ence de ffa*voir ce qui en eft. 
 Toutes nos ptnfees ff toutes nos afiions doivent prendre des 
 routes fi dijferentes, felon qu'il y aura ties biem eternel a 
 efptrer ou nott, qu'il eft impojfible de faire une demarche t 
 fu'en le reglant par la vue de ce pointy qui doit etre 
 notre dernier objet* 
 
 I AM, by a thoufand unmerited obligations, 
 
 Tour, tec. 
 
 * It needs no very elevated underftanding, to per- 
 ceive that there is here no true and folid fatisfaclion, that 
 all our pleafures are but vanity, that our evils are more 
 than can be numbred j and, in fine, that death,, which 
 threatens us every moment, muft in a few years fix us in 
 an eternal ftate of happinefs, or mifery. The immor- 
 tality of the foul is of fuch importance, and interefts 
 us fo deeply, that one muft have loft all feeling, to be 
 indifferent about it. All our thoughts and all our ac- 
 tions ought to take paths fo different, according as there 
 are eternal goods to be hoped for, or not ; that it is 
 impoffible to tread one ftep aright, without regulating 
 it by a regard to this, which ought to be our fole ob- 
 
 LB.TTE.ft
 
 LETTER XCVIII. 
 
 the fams. 
 MADAM, 
 
 IT will do you no real harm,, for me to begin at the 
 top of the paper ; tho' my head is at prefent fome- 
 thing vacant, and I find myfelf at a much greater loft 
 what to fay, than 'tis poffibls your Ladyfhip can be, 
 after having faid fo many fine things on every agree- 
 able fubjecl; in nature; It would be more juft in you,. 
 to complain for want of new worlds, and fome unfeen 
 novelties, than for want of invention. When the ce- 
 leftial arch, the groves and flowery lawns, have been de- 
 crib'd, mortal eloquence is exhaufted. Indeed the fol- 
 lies of mankind would afford a wide and: various fcene ; 
 but charity would draw a veil of darknefe there, and 
 chufe to be for ever filent,. rather than expatiate on that, 
 melancholy theme. 
 
 I AM taking a great deal of pains to convince you* 
 Ladyfhip that it is not for want of wit, but variety, that 
 my invention is cramp'd ; the narrow creation is my 
 complaint. In a more modeft difpofition,. I may be 
 content with the limits of the univerfe, and think the 
 world wide enough ; but at prefent it feems as diminu- 
 tive as the painted globe in Queen JLlixabetty's hand, or; 
 
 the foap- bubbles my Lord blows into- the air; 
 
 The poetic boafts 
 
 Of thoughts luhich wander thro 1 infnity, 
 And foar above the Jkies, 
 
 yield but little correlation : After all their ethereal ex- 
 curfions, we have got but very dark intelligence fronv 
 the invifible world ; and are fo far from finding our 
 ideas enlarg'd, that we are forc'd to degrade the bright- 
 eft order of Angels into human figures. Perhaps your 
 
 Lady-
 
 160 LETTERS 
 
 Ladyfhip's fparkling imagination does not drefs them ujr 
 in broad-cloth and beaver-hats; but even velvet coats, 
 and diamond buttons, would make but a tawdry figure 
 above the Stars. However, there is no remedy for 
 thefe incontinences, till the curtain falls, and difcovers 
 the glories of immortality in their native fplendor. 
 
 ONE would imagine, when the univerfe makes fuch 
 a defpicable figure in my view, that even ftars and gar- 
 ters, crowns and fceptres, feem transformed into toys; 
 one would think, in fuch a fuperior fituation, J mould 
 have no attachment left for a Japan fcreen ; but, I muft 
 Own, J long to fee it. 
 
 I AM afraid your Ladymip will allow me but little 
 of your attention, 'till after the birth-day ; however, I 
 
 hope you will give Mrs. leave to let me know 
 
 you are well, which will be the greateft fatisfadlion to 
 
 Tour &c 
 
 LETTER XCIX, 
 
 
 
 rr> J f 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOUR Ladymip would not thank me, I am per- 
 fuadad, iJ I wifli'd you a thoufand happy new 
 years in this world, crown'd with youth and conftant 
 tranquility ; but when I wifh you an immortality of 
 happinefs in the next, Heaven can witnefs the fincerity 
 of my foul. 
 
 I FANCY the Prince of Orange 1 's ftory would make a 
 tiery beautiful novel, if the fcer.e was laid in fome of= 
 
 the
 
 LETTERS. 161 
 
 the fragrant eaflern ifles, bleft with perpetual fpring. A 
 great many fine characters might be introduc'd under 
 poetical names. The fpirit and open temper of the 
 Prince of Wales, with his generous concern for the il- 
 luflrious ftranger, would make a very mining figure. I 
 have a great inclination, in fome ambitious moments, to 
 attempt it in imitation of Tdemachus t and addrefs it to 
 Lord . 
 
 THE following verfes are the eflay of a very young 
 mufe, Mr. Roive^s nephew, that your Ladyihip has feen 
 at Hampjlead t who has a promifmg genius for his early 
 years. 
 
 On the Nuptials of the PRINCE and 
 PRINCESS of ORANGE. 
 
 By Mr. NICOLAS MUNCKLEY. 
 
 FI R'D with the fame of BrunfaicK's royal race, 
 Adorn 1 d with ev'ry virtue, ev'ry grace ; 
 Young Orange long afpir'd to be ally'd, 
 Where only he could find an equal bride. 
 Should haughty France, or Auftria, to his arms- 
 Proffer, in all the pride of youthful charms 
 A blooming princefs, bleft with ev'ry grace,, 
 Pride of the Bourbon, or C&farean race : 
 (And well might haughty France, or Aitftria owft 
 Their monarch honour'd by fo great a fon) 
 Vain were the offer ; Orange ne'er would join 
 A tyrant's race, with William^ patriot line : 
 Their race, whofe impious arms mankind enjlave, 
 With his, whofe godlike glory was to fave. 
 
 IMMOR.TAZ,
 
 162 LETTER S, 
 
 IMMORTAL William! thy victorious hand 
 From the proud Gaul refcu'd thy native land ; 
 Nor to one nation were thy arms confm'd, 
 Thou hero fent by Heaven to fave mankind ! 
 Albion oppreft, low proftrate begs relief, 
 Her flowing tears perfuade the pitying chief; 
 He faw the Queen of nations wretched doom, 
 Giv'n up a prey to tyranny and Rome. 
 Hell with new rage its ministers infpires, 
 They whet their axes, and prepare their fires ; 
 Already they believe the conqueft gain'd, 
 And in their greedy hopes devour the land : 
 Vain expe&ation ! let a Naffau come, 
 Where is the confidence of hell and Route ? 
 He comes y and bids the refcu'd nation fmile*. 
 And liberty returns to blefs the ifle. 
 Triumphing hofts fpread their great leader's fame, 
 And lawlefs tyrants tremble at his name. 
 Kamur, thy walls, and, Boyne, thy rapid flood, 
 Ghoak'd with flain legions, and denTd with blood, 
 Confefs him great in arms ; his trembling foes 
 Trenches, or mounds, or tow'rs, in vain oppofe ; 
 In vain the baftion guards the hoftile wall, 
 And ramparts mock a foe he comes they fall. 
 
 FROM his illufirrous line young Orange came, 
 Alike in virtue, as alike in name. 
 For blooming Anne the youthful hero figh'd, 
 The only lover worthy fuch a bride : 
 Me fues, Britannia's monarch heard his pray >, 
 And to his wiflies gave the royal fait. 
 
 Tke
 
 LETTERS, r6j 
 
 THE joyful hero waits for fav'ring gales j 
 Sudden they rife, and fill the fwelling fails. 
 The prince exulting leaves the Belgic fhore, 
 Nor the winds threaten, nor the billows roar ;, 
 His guardian Genius bids the tempefts fleep, 
 And fmooths the fur face of the briny deep. 
 Lav'd by the hcary furge^ white cliffs from far, 
 To glad the lover's longing eyes appear ; 
 Swift glides the veffel to the crowded ftrand, 
 And gives the promis'd hero to the land. 
 To proud J!ugufta\ tow'rs with eager hafte, 
 The deftin'd fcene of all his joys, he pafs'd. 
 Unheeded fhout her fons, unheeded rife 
 Her domes and glitt'ring fpires, that wound the ikies ; 
 His ardent paffion claim'd his total care, 
 And all his thoughts were on the royal fair. 
 io, me appears to blefs his longing fight ! 
 The fair appears in native beauty bright. 
 Not fairer feem'd the fabled Queen of love, 
 Descending from the fkies to Ida's grove : 
 Loft in furprize, the Trojan boy beheld 
 Celeftial beauties to his fight reveal'd. 
 Receive the prize, O Paphian Queen ! he cry'd, 
 To Pallas , and the wife of Jove deny'd : 
 In vain my choice thy rival's charms would move,, 
 Lovely are they, but thou the Queen of love. 
 With like furprize the Belgic prince furvey'd 
 The blooming beauties of each royal maid. 
 Such lovely nymphs he ne'er before had feen. 
 The faireft daughters of the faireft Queen : 
 But chiefly Anna's charms the hero move, 
 Kaptur'd he gaz'd, and loft himfdf in love. 
 
 "Beauty
 
 164 L E T"T E R S. 
 
 Beauty ineffable adorn'd her face, 
 And fpoke her of the lovely Brunfaick racer 
 Her native majefty each look expreft, 
 And all the princefs ev'ry ftep confeft : 
 'Midft her attendant train fo Dido mov'd j 
 The fon of Venus faw, adrnir'd, and lov'd. 
 Nor lefs her mind th' illuftrious lover fir'd, 
 Pofleft of all that makes her fex defir'd : 
 Much he admir'd her form, her virtues more ? 
 They fix'd the conqueit beauty gain'd before. 
 
 BUT an amazing ftroke his joy retrains: 
 Thus the fevere decree of Heav'n ordains ! 
 A fudden heat moots thro' his glowing blood, 
 And noxious ardor taints the vital flood. 
 Celeftial pow'rs, ye guardians of the brave, 
 Your mighty charge from threat'ning danger fave! 
 Kind Heav'n affents, nor longer will delay 
 The blifs of Aibion, and th' aufpicious day ; 
 The day indulgent fate ordains Ihall join 
 The race of NaJ/au, with the Brunfwick line. 
 
 TH E happy ifle exults ; with gea'ral voice 
 Her morning fons appkud their monarch's choice, 
 Enjoy their prefent blifs,, and hence prefage 
 That blifs continued thro' each future age. 
 They fee new heroes hence derive their birth,. 
 And other Naffaus glad th' expecting earth : 
 And, mould offended Heav'n again ordain 
 To threat the nations with the Gallic chain, 
 From this illuftrious line they hope redrefs, 
 And a new William to redeem and bids. 
 
 LETTER
 
 i6 5 
 
 LETTER C. 
 
 20 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, ! 734- 
 
 IT gives me a very fennble concern, to hear you are 
 in the leaft danger of relapfmg into that diforder, 
 that you was in at the Bath. 'Tis perhaps impoflible 
 to reach an abfolute independence and fuperiority of 
 mind to human events ; and yet I often fancy myfelf in 
 a ftate of infenfibility to every thing, but what concerns 
 your happincfs; and that is an attachment which wiU 
 iurvive the period of mortal life. 
 
 MR. has generally a handfome manner of 
 
 addrefs, which makes me impatient to fee a dedication, 
 where the choice is fo intirely juft. Your Ladymip's 
 character fets human nature in it's moft agreeable light, 
 and is an inftance what perfection it can reach ; nor 
 can there be any partiality in giving you a diitinclion 
 which you certainly merit, 
 
 I WISH your Ladyfhip would be fo good as to fend 
 
 me one of your own, and Lady 's drawings in 
 
 Indian-ink ; I have a great curiofity to fee what progrefs 
 you make. My great attainment at prefent is colour- 
 ing prints ; If Lady wants any birds for her 
 
 nzvt Japan, I have feme at her fervice. Mrs. 
 is fo inchanted with this new japanning, that me has 
 abandon'd Mr. Baxter, and the Greek Fathers ; and em- 
 ploys her time in flicking tears and monkies on all 
 the wooden furniture fhe can find about the houfe. I 
 am in happier circumilances ; for the icreen your Lady- 
 fhip fent me is a Rarte-Jhe<w for all the women and 
 children about town, who have any thing of a nice 
 and elegant talle. 
 
 THE
 
 66 LETTERS. - 
 
 THE charming cottage your Ladyfliip has defrrib'd, 
 appears before me in all its vifionary beauty. I mould 
 certainly envy the inhabitants of fuch a charming re- 
 treat, if I could not indulge my imagination with the 
 hopes of fairer manfions,,in fome future world. But 
 .however ambitious I am of fetting my feet on the ftarry 
 pavement, I am yet forc'd to content myfelf with walks 
 of grafs, or (not to conceal the mortifying truth) ftones 
 ,and dirt. This is fome difad vantage to me, who have 
 renoanc'd all local motion, except walking. 
 
 I SHALL be in a painful fu'fpence, 'till I .hear that 
 your Ladyfliip is recover'd from this diforder ; which 
 will be a fmcere pleafure to 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER 1. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 >*TTMS impoflible to read Lord 's verfes, 
 
 \_ without being delighted with the view of what 
 fuch a capacity promifes to the public: They are, 
 without flattery, furprizing for one of his years. 
 
 TOUR Ladyfhip wouldget no advantage, by rolling 
 back time; not even to your fine perfon, which has 
 not yet loft a charm, while your mind has improved in 
 every thhig that is graceful and elegant in human na- 
 ture. Twenty years would be a large ftep. backward 
 in your life, unlefs you are got into the Egyptian chro- 
 nology, and reckon your years by the moon. But after 
 
 all
 
 LETTERS. 167 
 
 *H my criticifms, I am charm'd with your Ladyfhip's 
 fentiments, as they exprefs a noble ambition to reach 
 the heights of virtue. 
 
 IF I fhould have an averfion to fuch a place as v 
 I muft be infenfible to all that is agreeable in art or 
 riiature; nor can I fuffer your Ladyfhip to have fuch an 
 unjuft opinion of me. If there is a fpot on earth to 
 which my imagination isfix'd and inchanted, 'tis there : 
 I .haunt the grove, afcend the mount, trace the rivulets, 
 and wander thro' every verdant walk. 'Tis true, in 
 .my folitary caprices, I take full poffeffion of the lioufe 
 and gardens, and banifh every intelligent .being from 
 the place, exce.pt your Ladymip and the angels.; with 
 whom I may own, without breach of raodefty, I am fo 
 .good as never to be out of humour. You will think I 
 .am very gracious, not to exclude celeftial beings from my 
 .retirement ; m which I am happy enough, while I can 
 make a virtue of neceflity, and credit the moralifts, who 
 tell us, that all human pleafures are better in {pecula- 
 tion than in reality. For twenty miles, to me, are twenty 
 thoufand ; and I could as well think of a pilgrimage to 
 the Holy-land, or of taking a journey to the moon with 
 Gnnzas. But I hope fome favourable event or other 
 
 will bring your Ladymip to j and then you 
 
 cannot avoid this road, when I mfy be fo happy as to 
 fee you en paffant. 
 
 THER-E is a fort of infallibility in your judgment of 
 books ; I never queftion the merit of an author which 
 your Lady (hip recommends, and will get ^o///'sJiiftory 
 by the nrft opportunity, Your Ladyfhip's mentioning 
 Mr. Hallylurton\ life, when I was with you laft, made 
 me read over the account of his death ; in which there 
 are fome aukward particulars, and little domeftic mat- 
 ters, that are very difgufting ; but abftraft from this, 
 fuch an exit would have made a glorious figure in a 
 language anfwerable to the dignity of his fentiments ; 
 and thro' all the cant and difguife of a Scotch dialed, 
 i the
 
 68 LETTERS. 
 
 Che faint and the hero ftill appear. I was charm 'd to 
 find him bleffmg the hour of his birth, and triumphing 
 that ever he had commenced an immortal being; at a 
 time when the guilty part of mankind are wifhing they 
 had never been born, and loading the inaufpicious hour 
 with execration, and would fink back into their primi- 
 tive nothing. 
 
 lam. Sec. 
 
 LETTER CII. 
 
 'To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 3^6.1734. 
 
 YOU would have been molefted with my imper- 
 tinence before this, if Lady 's commands 
 
 -had not employ 1 d me in drawing ; which I am afraid 
 was more to flatter my vanity, than to pleafe her own 
 inclination ; 'but that ftill heightens the favour. I have 
 copy'd the Paftoral Mufe from a print Lady Scudamore 
 fent me : The figure is negligently lolling on the grafs, 
 in a romantic fcene, with cafcades, and fwans, and lit- 
 tle birds on the branches of trees. I will fend it as 
 foon as I have an opportunity : The only compliment 
 I defire in return, is fomething of Lady 's 
 
 drawing. 
 
 I AM pleas'd to find your Ladyfhip has had one in- 
 terval of what you call real folitude : I mould have 
 been fo perverfe as to have call'd it a crowd, if your 
 obliging wiihes to have me with you, could have taken 
 effedt. Where -ever you are, I mail frequently vifit 
 you in my imagination ; and thofe fort of intellectual 
 
 com-
 
 LETTERS. 169 
 
 compliments, your Ladyfhip may be affur'd, will al- 
 ways be fmcere, and never incommode your moft im- 
 portant moments ; nor will thefe airy rambles be at- 
 tended with anxiety or fatigue. 
 
 NOTHING in Dr. Watt?! Juvenile Mifcellanies gives 
 me more pleafure than the defcription of the Temple of 
 ike Sun, which is really fine. Nor is it poflible to read 
 the Thankful Pbilofopber, without the warmeft emotions 
 of gratitude to Heaven, for a thoufand diftinguifhing 
 favours, efpecially that of living in one of the moil 
 happy and glorious periods, that ever the Englijh nation 
 enjqy'd ; as I can't help thinking the prefent is, fince I 
 have read Rapin -, which has often excited my gratitude, 
 that I was not fated to breathe in the days of King Eg- 
 bert or King Sweno. 
 
 I HAVE had a thoufand panics for fear you would not 
 let me keep the fcreen ; for it is fo pretty, and you 
 had taken fo much pains about it, that I had not the 
 aflurance to expecl or defire it ; but if you don't make 
 me fend it back again, it will be a furprizing obligation. 
 It is a public benefit to this town, and the joy and 
 wonder of all that fet their eyes upon it. 
 
 I SUPPOSE a horfe with four legs is, by this time, 
 
 too flow an animal for Lord , and he would 
 
 be glad to have a horfe with wings like Pegafus. I am 
 really in pain, when I recall with what fpeed he us'd to 
 meafure the plains. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 
 VOL. II. I BETTER
 
 170 
 
 LETTER CIII. 
 
 2*0 the fame. 
 
 MADAM, Aug. z. 1734. 
 
 COULD any circumftance in the world raife my 
 envy, it would be the happinefs which Mrs. 
 
 enjoys in your Ladyfhip's converfation and friendfhip ; 
 but inftead of exciting an uneafy thought, it gives me 
 the higheft fatisfadion, to find you juft to fo much real 
 merit. Your Ladyfhip may juftly reproach me, for not 
 enjoying a fociety in which I confefs there are fo many 
 diarms. Mine is, indeed, a fantaftic fituaticn of mind ; 
 there is fomething of mechanifm in my reafoning fa- 
 culty, as well as in my devotion ; which feems to de- 
 pend on juft fuch a place, and fuch a iet of objects. 
 Indeed, I cannot boaft of any great mare of fenfe or 
 goodnefs, but I feem intirely deltitute of both, out of 
 my own chamber. My happinefs is a fort of Qmetifm ; 
 there is fomething in your way of life too glaring and 
 tumultuous for the natural fedatenefs of my temper. 
 
 If Mrs. , inftead of drawing the pi&ure, could pof- 
 
 fibly be transform'd into a real St. Gehevfeve ; and would 
 fit under a tree, with a good book in her lap, watching 
 her fneep in a very flowery pafture that I could find for 
 her, I mould vifit her at the rifmg morning arid filent even- 
 Ing. Nor fhould I have the leaft objection to the being 
 
 at , if your Ladyfhip could be metamorphos'd 
 
 into a plain good woman, without any attendants but 
 
 Mrs. , and , funk into Lucy and Colin. I 
 
 dare not carry the transformation to fuch a prodigious 
 
 extent, as to turn my Lord into a reverend 
 
 Divine, tho' with regard to the next world, perhaps, it 
 would be no difadvantage to his Lordfhip. Nor have 
 I the leaft inclination to make any alteration in the 
 houfe or gardens, which, I confefs, have a nearer re- 
 femblance to my plans of paiadife, than any other pro- 
 
 fpecl
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 171 
 
 lpe& which comes within my view ; unlefs what Mr. 
 
 's drawing gives me, ^ which is done with ex- 
 
 quifite Hull, and came fafe to me. 
 
 MY imagination could be no manner of help in the 
 contrivance of your grotto ; nor can an invention fo 
 fparkling as yours want afliftance, which appears by the 
 beauty of your defcription. 
 
 You will be fo obliging as to make a compliment 
 to Lord , and Lady ; , from 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER CIV. 
 
 fo tie fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 WHILE you meet with fo many inftances of the 
 vanity of earthly grandeur, I need not be very 
 lavifh of my morals on that fubjeft; and yet when I 
 am in the humour of dictating, I cannot help faying, 
 what you know very well, without the addition of my 
 teftimony to this melancholy truth, that even the reve- 
 nues of a kingdom cannot procure an exemption from 
 the pains of ficknefs, or the menaces of death, nor 
 purchafe one moment's eafe for the moft diltinguifli'd of 
 mortals. There is no relief in that gloomy hour, but 
 
 That glorious folace of immenfe dijtrefs, 
 A conference, and a W; a friend within, 
 And better friend on high. Hit eye-lids fend 
 
 I z fyamt
 
 172 LETTERS. . 
 
 Beams of immortal youth thro'' Ittav'n's bright regions, 
 His all-powerful ivord can health create, 
 And bid the blejpng come amidjl the wint 
 
 I HOPE Lord . is by this time recover'd from 
 his feverifh diforder. I can't but fhare with your La- 
 dyfhip in the concern you feel for him, with regard to 
 the fmall-pox. May Heaven protect the little angel 
 from that peftilential diftemper. If any thing can foften 
 Lord - 's tortures, it muft be your Ladymip's at- 
 tendance : You are the balm and joy of life to all about 
 you; every gloomy event gives a luftre to your cha- 
 racter, and brings the benignity of your temper into 
 action. And amidft all the changes of human affairs^ 
 a virtuous mind will feel a fecret complacence in be- 
 lieving 
 
 The courfe of human things is all decreed, 
 With each minute/} circumjlance, above : 
 No fickle chance , no blind contingencies, 
 No unforefeen events arife, to crofs 
 The purpofes divine. 
 
 I HAVE always the brighteft expectations from an 
 author that your Ladylhip recommends, nor have I 
 been difappointed in Rollins hiftory ; the two firft vo- 
 lumes of which I have been reading with a true ra- 
 tional delight : His remarks on the conduft of divine 
 Providence are a proof to me of the author's piety, and 
 thro' every page the delicacy and juftnefs of his fenti- 
 ments appear. Lady -'s retreat puts one wife 
 thing in my head, that there is no happinefs but in in- 
 nocence and obfcurity. But to your great comfort my 
 morality is abridged for want of room, 
 
 I am, &c.~ 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER CV. 
 
 'To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOU will pardon me, I am fure, for 
 * 
 
 think a perfon in your ftation and altitude an 
 objeft of compaffion ; but you are really fo, even by 
 your own confeflion : Nor could your Ladyfhip have 
 nam'd one circumftance of mifery greater than that of 
 being confin'd to a crowd of people, who are all of 
 them in a ftate of hoftility and ill-humour with one 
 another ; or at leaft not fo peaceably difposM, as your 
 Ladyfhip's fedate and gentle difpofition would wifh them. 
 But while I pity, and am ready to pray for you, it di- 
 verts me, to find you only a little difcompos'd, in a fi- 
 tuation that would bereave me of my fenfes, and drive 
 me quite out of my wits. 
 
 I AM glad your Ladyfhip is difgufted with . 
 the whole feems to be writ with a malice more than 
 human, and has furely fomething infernal in it. 'Tis 
 furprizing, that a man can deveft himfelf of the tender 
 fentiments of nature fo far, as deliberately to gire an- 
 guifh and confufion to beings of his own kind. Slan- 
 der and inveclive do an injury never to be repaired, and 
 confequently are unpardonable fins. 
 
 I SHALL eafily difpenfe with your drawing for me, 
 when it puts you to the leaft pain. Mr. out- 
 mines us all. I have hung his drawing in an eminent 
 place, in my parlour, and no-body that comes there 
 thinks it worth their while to look at any other per- 
 formance, 'till they have admir'd this : I own myfelf 
 indebted to him for it. I have juft receiv'd a prefent 
 of the feafons by Watteau ; the fcenes are fine, and the 
 faces very handfome ; and I Ihould be glad enough to 
 I 3 hea*
 
 274 LETTERS. 
 
 hear the mufic, but averfe to being one of the com- 
 pany. I muft tell you all the fecrets of my heart, 
 whether they are guilty or innocent. 
 
 IT gives me the moft abftraft and refin'd pleafur?, 
 to hear your Ladyfhip's chara&er and fine genius ad- 
 mir'd : You are my vanity and pride, nor is it poflible 
 for you to be more delighted, to find the public doing 
 
 juftice to Lady 's charms and merit, than I find, 
 
 in the juftice done to yours. I am often pleas'd with 
 an opportunity of applying thefe lines of Dr. Young to 
 your Ladyfliip's character : 
 
 She flrikes each point ivith native force of mind t 
 While puzzled learning blunders far behind. 
 Graceful to fight, and elegant to thought, 
 'The great are -vanquiJWel, and the 'wife are taught, 
 Her breeding fni/k^d, and her temper facet ', 
 When ferious, eafy j and when gay, difcreet j 
 In g.lit f ring fctncs o'er her vwn heart fever e, 
 In crowds collected, and in courts fincere, 
 
 MR. Duncombe fent me his propofals for printing Mr/ 
 Hughes^ works. I am glad he finds encouragement, 
 for be is really an author of genius and ftrift morals. 
 I hope you will not make fucli a long paufe as your 
 fcft, before you write to 
 
 Tour % Sec. 
 
 ' 
 
 i 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER CVI. 
 
 'To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 YOU cannot communicate your joys to any per- 
 fon that more fincerely {hares in your Ladyfhip's 
 happinefs than I do. While your amufements are fo 
 reasonable and innocent, you need not fcruple making 
 confeffions of yourfelf to a much feverer temper than 
 mine is ; and if you tell me the worft of yourfelf, as I 
 believe you do, you are certainly very good. Not that 
 this awkward common compliment, of telling people they 
 are very good, does reach your Ladylhip's character, 
 or at all exprefs my meaning : But I muft content myfelf 
 with human language, for I cannot yet fpeak in the 
 ftrains of immortality j tho' I wifh for that privilege 
 with more impatience than I ought. 
 
 * O longo efilio ! O tfcppo lenta mcrte ! 
 
 THE vifionary pleafure that your defcription of a 
 country fcene gives me, perhaps, exceeds what I fhoukl 
 find in the reality ; and fetting afide the beauties that 
 your fparkling imagination and fine language give to 
 every thing that you are pleas'd with, trees are trees, 
 and daifies are dailies, at Frame, as well as at the hermi- 
 tage. And even your Ladyfhip's nice tafte would be 
 delighted with fome verdant inclofures, which are my 
 conftant haunt, and where I am fure of enjoying an un- 
 molefted folitude. However, I am not going to per- 
 fuade you to inclofe Windfir-ForeJl, and baniih eveiy 
 human appearance from it j for the fociety you are bleft 
 with has every thing in it agreeable and charming. I 
 am not furpriz'd that with your juft and elegant turn of 
 I 4 thought, 
 
 O tedious exile ! O too tardy death \
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 thought, you mould prefer that innocent wit and ; unaf- 
 fefted chearfulnefs, that you find in your own family, 
 to all the noify mirth of public entertainments. I was 
 pleas'd with a thought I lately read in a modern author, 
 who fays, (fpeaking of folitude) T even delightful, to 
 think there is a ivorld of fpirits, and that ive are fur- 
 rounded nuith intelligent beings, tho 1 in^vifeble^ rather than 
 in a lonely mconfcious uai'verfe, a ivildernefi of infenjible 
 matter. 
 
 I HAVE read your two laft letters over and over, 
 they infufe a fecret gladnefs into my foul ; the peace 
 and ferenity of your temper appear in every line : I 
 hear the nightingale's fong ; and all the gay landfcape, 
 the flowery fcene, which gives you fuch a chearfulnefs, 
 rifes in full bloom before me. 
 . 
 
 I'LL leave you now to trace the fun> and vifit the 
 planetary worlds -, while I, confined to this earthly 
 globe, remain 
 
 Your. &c. 
 
 LETTER CVIL 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I HA VE at laft had the fatisfaftion of reading Madam 
 de Lambert's Avis a fan Fils & a fa Fille. Such i 
 juft train of reafoning, and thofe noble reflections, would" 
 have given me a iincere pleafure, if I had not been 
 byafs'd by your Ladyfhip's good opinion of the author ; 
 but as I was, the fatisfaftion was more complete. What- 
 ever has the fanftion of your applaufe, I admire with- 
 out rcferve or diffidence : I grow pofitive and infallible, 
 
 and
 
 LETTERS. 177 
 
 and without being popiflity inclined in any other point, 
 I yield an implicit aflent to all your determinations. 
 The following fentence pleafes me, becaufe it is exadly 
 your Ladymip's manner of thinking ; and that is the 
 greateft compliment I can make the author. * Le bon- 
 heur eft dans le paix de Fame ', vous ne pourrex jouir des 
 plaijirs de Fefprit, fans la fa'/,te de Ftfyrit. Tout eft 
 prefque plaijtr p-.ur un efprit fain. And I am particu- 
 larly charm'd with this thought : -\ La plus gratide 
 marque qifon ejl tie a<vec des grandes qualitez, ejl de 
 vivre fans envie. This is the conftant happy fituation 
 of a mind form'd like your Ladymip's. Heaven con- 
 tinue that facred peace, which is the refult of unaffe&ed 
 virtue. 
 
 1 am, Sec. 
 
 LETTER CVIIL 
 
 'To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 YO U can fay nothing more to Lord ? s 
 
 advantage, than that he refembles your own 
 charming fifter in her temper and virtues. I can't 
 help wondering that with your Ladyfhip's fparkling 
 
 imagination, you will take the pains to fee , 
 
 15 or 
 
 * Happinefs confifts in the peace of the foul. You 
 cannot enjoy the pleafures of the mind, without the 
 health of the mind : Every thing almoft is pleafure to 
 an healthful mind. 
 
 f The fureft mark that one is born with great quali- 
 ties, is to live without envy.
 
 J7 3 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 or any other fine place, when you may fit ftill, and ex- 
 ercife your own invention, without any manner of fa- 
 tigue, or the tumult of a Lady of quality's equipage 
 and attendance. For tho' your motions may not be 
 quite fo unwieldy as the Rhodean Coloflfos, and you may 
 ftir without many a cart, yet not, as Gnvley fays, with- 
 out many a mule ; and that muft be a ftrange incum- 
 brance to the fimplicity of all rural entertainments and 
 fylvan pleafures. You find I have loft my attachment 
 to grandeur and pageantry, and am going to perfuade 
 you to difmifs your eoachman, and fell your horfes; and 
 to ramble thro 1 the wild woods on your own legs, in or- 
 der to exercife the felf- moving principle, with which 
 nature has endowed you ; or elfe to fit ftill in your own 
 apartment, and raife palaces and plant groves, at your 
 leifure. 
 
 WHY will you force me to recall thofe happy hours 
 which I pafs'd with you at ? That peaceful 
 
 period never returns on my memory, without fome fe.- 
 cret regret that 'tis pait. 
 
 But there are foft Elyfian 
 
 jAndltfufrs of faueet repofe ;. 
 Where never any ftorm invades y 
 Or tempeft ever blovJs. 
 
 THIS profpeft fcatters every human care, and Spreads 
 a divine tranquility on my foul. The moments are 
 wing'd, I find, by the flight of ten years* that are paft 
 fince I was at-. 
 
 GIVE me leave to make my compliments to Lady 
 
 ; and to fubfcribe mvfelf 
 
 Your, &C. 
 
 LETTER
 
 179 
 
 LETTER CIX, 
 
 'To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 nrULLlA is certainly a beautiful novel, and appears to 
 J- be the production of a fine genius. Never was the 
 grandeur and beauty of your own mind more elegantly 
 expreft, than in the character of Tullia j which while 
 I am admiring, it heightens the pleafare, to know that 
 fuch perfection and virtue is more than an agreeable 
 fidion. 
 
 NOTHING makes me more repine at the incum- 
 brance of a mortal body, than that it confines me from 
 the moft agreeable place and converfation on earth. I 
 have now an averfion to all ways of travelling ; a chair 
 is my terror, and even a coach and fix is quite out of 
 my good graces : I am reconcil'd to nothing but walk- 
 ing, and would fooner begin a pilgrimage to fee your 
 Ladyfhip, than a devout Papift to vifit our Lady of 
 Loretto. But it will not be long before I fhall drop 
 thefe earthly fetters, and commence a (late of greater 
 agility ; and then, tho' I have no intention to haunt 
 you as a ghoft, I fhall certainly make you fome friendly, 
 tho' invifible vifits, and wait to make my compliments, 
 at your firft entrance on the celeftial coafts. 'Till that 
 happy period, I am, with the greateft fmcerity, 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER
 
 i8o 
 
 LETTER CX. 
 
 'To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 "f\ O tbcfe who on a rack for Heaven expire, 
 Love angels and eternal brightnefs there ? 
 *Tis fure they do ! 
 
 as Lee fays ; and 'tis full as fure, that my mind is never 
 in a ftate of indifference with regard to your Ladyfhip. 
 I am not yet arriv'd to fuch an height of mortification- 
 to the pleasures of human life, as to make a refolution 
 of feeing you no more. That would be refrgning the 
 world at once ; and I am fo far from that ftoical indif- 
 ference, that I often footh myfelf with the thoughts of 
 converfmg with you in fome happy diftant period. 
 But no prophetic impulfe yet difcovers when, or where, 
 or how ; when I would fix, the vifionary joy diffolves 
 in tracklefs air, and is loft in the uncertainty of all 
 future events. 
 
 YOUR Ladyihip will make me turn critic, in fpight 
 of reafon and nature. The eafy tranfition of thought 
 and graceful language of the tranflation are inimitable ; 
 but confidering Tullia was defign'd by Madame de Lam- 
 bert for a perfeft character, I think, fhe indulges a ten- 
 der paflion for Lentulus a little too far. However, 
 that guilt is excused, by the heroic virtue that appears in 
 her retreat } and nothing csfn be more charming and 
 natural than the effeft of her retirement, when it finks 
 a tender paffion into a generous and innocent friend- 
 fhip ; and it delights the reader, to find two perfons of 
 the greaceft merit happy without a crime. I might re- 
 mark a thoufand other beauties, but at prefent it will 
 bs convenient to conclude my annotations. If you 
 don't write to me fometimes in this month, I am afraid 
 J mufl refign you, in the next, to the Princefs of Saxe- 
 
 Gotba,
 
 L E T T E R S. 181 
 
 Gatha, and royal weddings, and birth -days; which 
 without any great degree of humility, I may own ar 
 things of more importance than 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXI. 
 
 I'o the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 BE mine, ye powers, the faculty of writing fparfe- 
 ling nonfenfe ! for then I find I could compofe 
 
 the moft delightful letters. Indeed I know not well 
 
 what to fay, for my genius owes all its vivacity to 
 your letters ; and at prefent my own guilt will not fuffev 
 me to complain of your Ladyftiip's filence. However 
 I have done violence to my own inclination, oat of re- 
 gard to your tranquility, which I thought was but too 
 often molefted by the hurry of the Grand Monde ; but 
 now you have a fort of vacancy, I beg you to write in 
 a few ports, fince the hearing from you is the only 
 thing that I can call a reafonable pleafure, that relates 
 to this world. The pleafures of the imagination are of 
 an inferior clafs, and thofe I have had, in finiftiing the 
 fcreen ; for which I had pictures enough, and fome left, 
 
 which I have given to Mrs. to make her a 
 
 corner-cupboard, to her great joy and content. I am 
 not furpriz'd to find your Ladymip diverting yourfelf 
 with the fcenes of low life, in the print you are copy- 
 ing, while fields and cottages feem to be the abodes of 
 innocence and peace. I muft own that fcenes of gran- 
 deur and art pleafe me better ; but then 'tis only in fpe- 
 culation and at a diftance : for without pretending to 
 be more philofophical tlian I really ana, I fliould chufe 
 
 to
 
 182 LETTERS. 
 
 to be confin'd to the peaceful ihade of fome remote 
 wildernefs, rather than to the hurry of the moft fplen- 
 
 did court. I am glad to hear that Mr. . . ha* 
 
 hisrefidence.ftill among mortals, tho' I wi(h myfelf in 
 a fuperior ftation ; but while I am in this, with the; 
 greateit fmcerity, 
 
 lam, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXIL 
 
 fo the fame. 
 MADAM,- 
 
 SINCE your Ladyfhip will give me leave to flatter 
 myfelf, that you writ to me from inclination, and; 
 not to fill up the vacancy of an amufement, I fhall wil- 
 lingly aflent to fuck an agreeable truth,, without raiting 
 any modeft objections on the occafion. 
 
 I AM delighted with all your entertainments, except 
 the Tent-Jiitck ; and that I own, I admire, but then 'tis 
 as fome people admire virtue, only in fpeculation. It 
 fbems to me an ante diluvian invention, a talk for thofe 
 long-breath'd people, who fpent a fort of eternity on 
 earth, compared to the fhort duration of a modern pe- 
 riod. However, I am in no pain for your Lady-ftiip ; 
 whether your attempt is a chair ora.ftool, I fuppofe 
 it will be an hereditary occupation ; if you finifh. the 
 
 branch of a tree, and Lady , a fhepherd's 
 
 crook, the fervice of your generation is done, and you 
 may contentedly leave the reft to be finilh'd by your 
 children's children.
 
 LETTERS. 183 
 
 'Tis a thoufand to one, but you have feen thefe line? 
 f my Lord Orrery's, but for fear you (hould not, I 
 will give myfelf the pleafure of transcribing them. 
 
 To Mr. POP E. 
 
 Intomtfd with Kings tho* GAY*J cold ajhes lie,. 
 
 4 nobler monument thy ftrains fupply ; 
 
 Thy mat chiefs mufe ftill faithful to thy friend* 
 
 Sy courts aw.-ziuV^ bis virtues dares commend.. 
 
 Lamented G AY ! forget thy treatment paj}, 
 
 Look doiUHf, and fee thy merit crown 1 d at lajl .* 
 
 A deftiny more glorious <wbo can hope ? 
 
 In life beloved, in death bemoan 'd by POPE. 
 
 THE laft part of your Ladyftiip's letter fooths the 
 mind into a pleafing indifference to all human events : 
 Profperity and adveriity lofe their diftinftion, and are 
 only preferable, as the allotment of JHcaven orders 
 them. 
 
 BY the partiality of fome of my acquaintance, the 
 poem of Jofeph has been fo often tranfcrib'd, and is. 
 got into fo many hands, that I have been at Jaft flatter'd, 
 or teiz'd, into a confent to let it be publifh'd, on condition 
 the author is never known or nam'd. As for fuccefs, 
 I have no manner of vanity or concern : I ata as proud- 
 of adjufting a tulip or a butterfly in a right poiition on. 
 a fcreen, as of writing heroics, 
 
 / am* &c.~
 
 1 8 4 
 
 LETTER CXIIL 
 
 <To the fame, 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 THIS will perhaps mokft your Ladyfhip in a 
 moment of importance, and amidlt the hurry 
 of the preparation for a birth-night ; but I am in pain 
 'till you know I am intirely ignorant of * Cr/'s ro- 
 mance of my life and writings ; only what I have feen 
 in an advertifement. I was told of his defign indeed, 
 and wrote, and poiitively deny'd him the liberty of 
 printing any thing of mine : But they tell me he is a 
 mere favage, and has no regard to truth and huma- 
 nity ; and as he has treated people of greater confequence 
 in the fame manner, I am advis'd to fuffer no friend to 
 take the leaft notice of his collection ; and for my own 
 peace, if ever it comes in my way, I never intend to 
 fee what is in it. I have often fecur'd my happinefs, 
 by governing my curiofity ; and I am fure of doing it 
 in this cafe, becaufe I am fo perfectly indifferent to the 
 trifles I have writ, and have at prefent no manner of 
 ambition, but 
 
 In rural Jbades, exempt from care and ft rife, 
 To lead a calm, fecure, inglorious life. 
 
 * This performance is worthy of its author ; for it 
 contains nothing betides the names of fome of Mrs. 
 Jtowis works; and an account that flic was married, 
 and buried her hufband and father, with wrong date* 
 to each of thefe events. So that, like the reft of C/7's 
 biographical writings, it only informs the public, that 
 he was intirely ignorant of every thing relating to the 
 perfon whofe memoirs he attempted to coropofe. 
 
 J CAM
 
 LETTERS, 185 
 
 I CAN look on the various events of human thing? 
 with indifference, as I know I fliall very foon quit the 
 changing fcenes of mortality, and enter on a mote lafi> 
 ing and important ftate. 
 
 1 AM charm'd with Mr. Pope's poem on death, in 
 the laft edition of his works. I wifh I may be in the 
 happy difpofition to repeat thefe lines at that final pe- 
 riod. 
 
 The world recedes, it difappears j 
 Hea'v'n opens on my eyes, my ears 
 
 With founds feraphic ring : 
 Lend, lend your wings ! I mount, 1 fy ; 
 O gra-ve ! where is iky wiflory?' 
 
 O death ! where is thy fling ? 
 
 I SUPPOSE your Ladyfliip will not infift on my giving 
 up the ghoft immediately. Indeed this is not a fubjeft 
 for raillery, nor for fuperftitious terror j tho', perhaps, 
 this laft is the belt extreme. 
 
 I HAVE been reading over Mr. Thotnfon's Seafont 
 with a new and truly rational delight. One would think 
 you had fat for the pifture of the fpring. The refem- 
 blance I found induc'd me to copy it ; for drawing is 
 the conflant amufement of my leifure time. 
 
 / am, &C. 
 
 LETTER
 
 
 
 LETTER CXIV. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 YO U have had the prime of my thoughts, and I 
 find to my coft, that human intellects are ex- 
 tremely confin'd ; 'tis but the fame fet of images re- 
 turn, however various the expreffion. This is no rea- 
 fon, indeed, that all the world mould turn mutes, for 
 fear of fpeaking the fame words to day, that they faid 
 yefterday j nor can it give you any pretence to be filent, 
 while a thoufand novelties, that rife from the changing 
 humours and paffions of mankind, fupply you with new 
 reflections. But for me, who know nothing befides 
 what paffes in my folitary thoughts, or the different 
 fcenes in which the mute creation appears, I may be 
 well excus'd from endeavouring to entertain a periba 
 who knows all that paiTes in the polite world. 
 
 You will certainly give me leave to be dull for the 
 future, without fuch a tedious apology ; efpecially when 
 I have nature and neceffity to plead in my excufe. How- 
 ever, I do not defcend to trifling and impertinence with 
 my own approbation, any more than with yours j but 
 fometimes 'tis to avoid the other extreme of appearing 
 too wife or too good, which is a fort of oftentation I 
 would carefully fhun : And yet this perhaps is a criminal 
 modefly. One would not think it poflible to be over- 
 folicitous in providing for an eternal intereft, or that 
 preparing for a death-bed was a matter of lefs folemnity 
 than dreffing for a ball. A perfon that can weep at a 
 tragedy, need not be offended at another, for dropping 
 a iilent tear in the warmth of devotion ; nor for liftening 
 to a fermon, with as great attention, as a lover of mufic 
 would mind an opera. 
 
 HOWEVER,
 
 LETTERS. 187 
 
 HOWEVER, I have no manner of occafion on my 
 wu account to make an apology for being either too 
 wife or too good ; if you never find caufe to reproach, 
 me for the oppofite extreme, it will be a great hap- 
 pinefs for 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXV. 
 
 TV the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 IF you knew the fentiments of my heart, you would 
 find no reafon to complain. You engage more of 
 my attention than any other earthly thing ; and if it 
 was poffible, I would think of yon with more indiffe- 
 rence. But I have not attain 'd fuch a degree of philo- 
 fophy as you imagine, nor ever hope to reach fach a 
 height of mortification, as it would require, to break a 
 friendfhip with one of the moll generous and agreeable 
 perfons on earth. 
 
 IT flatters my pride, that you have put me on making 
 an apology for my filence ; which I always thought 3 
 great relief to you, tho' not to myfelf. It was my own 
 happinefs that I purfu'd in writing to you, without once 
 prefuming it could contribute to yours ; but nothing 
 will humble my vanity, after the obliging reproaches, 
 you have made on this occafion. 
 
 'Tis making myfelf a greater compliment than I can 
 make you, when I confefs that you have renVd my 
 tafte into a fort of difguft for every body's converfation, 
 but your own ; and 1 am. fo careful to keep your good 
 
 opinion*
 
 i88 LETTERS. 
 
 opinion, as if my whole ftock of reputation depended 
 on your cenfure or approbation. However, I mutt own 
 this attachment is not voluntary ; I am unwilling you 
 mould have this afcendant over niy thoughts, and would, 
 if poffible, be difengag'd from every thing below ths 
 ftars : But there is a fort of fatality in your merit, that 
 will always compel the admiration of 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXVI. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 IWisH your happmefs, as I wifh the welfare of my 
 own foul ; and yet I find a fecret pleafure in your 
 unealinefs. I am glad you are difcontenfed, and that 
 you have not made this world your refting- place, but 
 are in purfuit of joys more lafting and refin'd. I mould 
 be forry to find you among the ferene and thoughtlefs 
 mortals, that are content with a repetition of the fame 
 vanities from yanuary to December, without the leaft 
 variety, or ever forming a wifh, for more reafonable and 
 exalted delights^ 
 
 I AM forcing tile character of a faint on your Lady- 
 fhip in fpight of your heart ; for I verily believe you 
 had not a thought of acquiring that dignity by any thing 
 in your letter : But I hope and believe, you will be 
 found in that glorious clafs, when all other diftinctions 
 of grandeur are forever cancelled. 
 
 I AM charm'd with your beautiful defcription of Lady 
 's grotto; which has given me all the pleafure 
 
 the
 
 LETTERS. 189 
 
 the view of it could afford, without the fatigue of going 
 thither to fee it. Thefe intelleftual pleafures are agree- 
 able to my tafte, and this is a way of being happy, 
 without the toil that attends the fatisfadions of fenfe. 
 
 YOUR Ladyftiip's commands to anfwer your letter 
 by the firft poft, are perfeflly obliging : When I delay, 
 'tis often to avoid being impertinent, and for fear you 
 fhouhl drop my correfpondence, before the approach of 
 death ihall warn me to (end you a final adieu. 
 
 Tranfporting period 1. <when ivi/t thou appear? 
 'Thou blifsful dawn of that immortal day, 
 'That ne" er Jball fee a dujky evening fpread 
 To veil its fight z which ne'er /hall need the fun, 
 Nor Jlars* *or glimmering moon to cbear its Jhade. 
 
 YE fair inhabitants of blifsful feats, 
 Unfold your golden gate*, and call me hence : 
 Sick of this mortal Jlafe, this round of error t 
 Of darknefs and mijlake, I long far reft. 
 
 PERHAPS this impatience to retire from this tempe- 
 fluous world may be the effedl of cowardice. I own 
 thefe public rumours of war, and nation rifing againil 
 nation, fcave a difmal profpeft. The angel ftanding in 
 the fun (as he is defcrib'd in the Revelations) feems to 
 be making his folemn invitation to all the fowls that 
 fly in the midft of heaven, to gather themfelves toge- 
 ther to the /upper of the great God, that they may eat 
 the flejh of kings, and the fe/h of captains, and the fie^b 
 0f horfcs f and of thofe that Jit on them. This invi- 
 
 tation has in it a furprizing grandeur. 
 
 Adieu fans cerimonit. 
 
 LETTER
 
 L E T T E R CXV1I, 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, ..^^ . 
 
 IF you could flatter me, that my refentment would 
 give you any uneafinefs, I mould certainly make ufe 
 of that power to my own advantage, by extorting longer 
 letters from you. It would make me proud, to have 
 the leaft afcendant over a mind like yours j nor would 
 that vanity be without a juil excufe. 
 
 WHATEVER detriment the public might fuffer by 
 your abfence, I can't help wifhmg your Ladyfhip fe- 
 quefter'd in fome peaceful retreat, for a two-fold rea- 
 fon : Firft, that I might hear oftener, that you are Hill 
 walking on the face of the earth ; and, fecondly, thai 
 you might enjoy a more reafonable happinefs. I can 
 eafily believe your prefent fituation is not die fphere of 
 your felicity. 
 
 * QUE L S plaijirs fournijfent ces vairrs entretiens, qui 
 tonfument la plus grande portion de 'vie ?. Ces murmurs con- 
 fus, ces difcours fupcrfcicls, qui excite line troupe de di- 
 feurs de rien ? Ces circles ennuieux, ou Von demands ait 
 Jbleil & a la pluie^ de quoy fournir des fujets? Quels pl&i- 
 Jirs dans c,cs <vifites contitiuels, frefyue toujours egalement a 
 la chagrin des ccux qui Its font, & ceux qui les r* foment. 
 
 * What entertainment can thefe vain converfations 
 afford, which confume the greater part of our lives ? 
 thefe confus'd murmurs, thefe fuperficial difcourfes of 
 a company of talkers on nothing ? thefe tirefome cir- 
 cles, in which we beg of the fun and the rain to fup- 
 ply us with fubjefts ? What pleafure can we find in thefe 
 perpetual vifits, that, almoft always, equally chagria 
 thoie who make them, and thofe who receive them ? 
 
 I HAVE
 
 LETTERS. 191 
 
 I HAVE been quoting one of Morifieur Saurin's fer- 
 mons, and fhall not be quite happy 'till your Ladyfhip 
 has read him : Whatever is faid of the force and 
 beauty of the Roman eloquence, you will find in thofc 
 difcourfes. 
 
 YOUR Ladyfhip, I perceive, will not be at leifure, 
 this month, to moralize at your hermitage on the vanity 
 of human things ; but wherever you are, may you be 
 the care of celeftial Providence. 
 
 I AM afraid Mrs. - is really elop'd from 
 
 mortals, or that fhe has made a vow never to mimic 
 
 the defpicable figures of the alphabet any more. 
 
 You would be glad if fome other amufement at prefent 
 employ 'd 
 
 Your. &c. 
 
 LETTER CXVIII. 
 
 <To : Mr. THO. ROWE. 
 
 I .SHOULD be too vain, if I believ'd any thing I can 
 write could give you half the fatufa&ion your let- 
 ter gave me. Tho' you have fo often affur'd me of 1 
 the conilancy of your affeftion, I always hear the ten- 
 der proteftation with new pleafure. I read your letter 
 over and over, and grow proud to End I have fecur'd 
 the heart of a man of your fenfe and merit. I mall 
 make it the bufmefs of my life to fix your efteem, and 
 think that reward worth all my care.
 
 192 L E T T E R S. 
 
 'Tis with great reafon I am more impatient of your 
 abfence than you can be of mine. I hope not to be 
 difappointed of hearing from you the next poft ; no- 
 thing but that can give me any pleafure at this dif- 
 tance from you. Pray be here as foon as you can ; 
 'till then adieu. May every watchful angel guard 
 you. 
 
 LETTER CXIX. 
 
 3*o the fame. 
 
 I COULD not content myfelf with fending my fervice 
 to you by Mr. . ; there was fomething in 
 
 that fo cold and formal, and fo unequal to the tender- 
 nefs I would exprefs, that I refolv'd to write to you, and 
 fend you all my foul j but words cannot paint that fm- 
 <ere affection, that amity and juft efteem, that fuch me 
 rit as yours has infpir'd. However, I would flatter 
 myfelf that your own heart will diftate fomething of 
 what I would (peak, and inform you with what impa- 
 tience you are expected by 
 
 Tour PHILOMELA. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER CXX. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 I FIND by your letter, that you are got well to the 
 end of your journey ; in this my prayers were an- 
 fwer'd, and may the heavenly guardians flill protect, and 
 return you again to my wilhes. 
 
 IN the mean time, I lhall give no-body occafion to 
 make panegyrics on my wit or good-humour j the little 
 lhare I have of either, is owing to the ambition I have 
 to pleafe you. This gives a ferenity to my thoughts, 
 and a vivacity to my converfation. If I endeavour to 
 fay a fine thing, 'tis only to gain your applaufe ; and 
 when you are abfent, 'tis indifferent to me whether I 
 fpeak common fenfe or not ; all fociety grows infipid, 
 and I hear nothing that deferves the leaft attention ; even 
 the rural fcenes fail to pleafe me ; the verdant fhades and 
 flowery fields, fince you are gone, have loll their charms. 
 
 You flatter my vanity, in writing with fo much galan- 
 try and politenefs; and if making it the bufmefs of my 
 life to be agreeable to the man I love, can engage your 
 heart, my happinefs is fecure. Nor is it poflible fuch 
 merit as yours fhould ever fuffer me to grow indif- 
 ferent, 
 
 While life and breath remain ; and when at laji 
 
 I feel tie icy band of death prevail, 
 
 My heart-firings crack, and all my fenfes fa.il t 
 
 m fix thy image in my clojing eye, 
 
 Sigh thy dear name, then lay me do-ixn and die. 
 
 Voi. II. K LETTER
 
 194 
 
 LETTER CXXL 
 
 70 Mrs. SARAH ROWE. 
 
 I AM extremely concem'd, that my brother William 
 has his health no better than when he was at the 
 Bath, and mould have been very glad, if he could 
 have ventur'd himfelf in the country. Tho' I don't 
 fee you, the intereft and happinefs of your family is 
 never out of ray thoughts. I pray for nothing with 
 greater fincerity, than for bleffings on you and your 
 children ; and tho' the dear youth on whom I plac'd 
 all my happinefs, js rent from my arms, my future life 
 is devoted to his memory, and my fpotlefs vows mall 
 be forever his. My heart bleeds afrefh when I name 
 him, and tears put a flop to what I would fpeak. 
 
 / am, my dear Mother, 
 
 Tour, kc. 
 
 LETTER CXXII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 IAM forry I have given my dear mother fo much 
 trouble, as it muft be to difpatch fo much bufinefs 
 fo foon. I am glad to hear I have money enough to 
 pay my bills. My wants have been hitherto plentifully 
 fupply'd by the divine Providence, on which I defire im- 
 mediately to rely, without the leafl regard to fecond caufes. 
 I would turn my eyes from the whole creation, and di- 
 reft all my expeciations to the God before whom my 
 
 fathers
 
 LETTERS. 195 
 
 fathers have walk'd ; the God that has fed me all my 
 life -long 'till now, the Angel that has redeem'd me from 
 *11 evil. 
 
 <who has tafied of 'bis clemency 
 
 In greater meafure, or more oft than I? 
 Which way foe^er I turn my eyes orfeet t 
 
 1 fee his goodnefs, and his mercy meet. 
 
 "When every comfort on earth FaiPd me, he knew my 
 foul in its adveriity ; and was all my fupport, when 
 darknefs and defpair furroimded me. Bhjt the Lord, O 
 my foul ', and forget not all bis benefits! While I have 
 memory and thought, let me not forget his goodnefs* 
 nor fuffer his mercy to flip one moment from my thoughts. 
 Let me remember the vows of my diftrefs, and perform 
 them to my gracious Benefactor. 
 
 I HAVE my health, I thank God, at prefent, and 
 am not half fo lean as I was in the winter ; hut I am 
 ftill perfuaded I have not long to flay in this world. 
 
 Oh ! if my threatening fins tvere gofte, 
 
 And death had lojl his jlig> 
 1 could invite the angel OH, 
 
 And chide his lazy iving. 
 
 Mr. WATTS. 
 
 THE news of your illnefs has given me a thoufand 
 melancholy thoughts. May Heaven long preferve your 
 life, on many accounts befides mine ; to me indeed it i* 
 one of the greateft bleffings I enjoy : For I feel the ties 
 of gratitude and virtue to be as tender and fenfible as 
 the ftrongeft ties of nature. I hope your next will bring 
 me the welcome news of your perfect recovery, and the 
 health of all your family., which is the moft fmcere 
 prayer of, 
 
 My dear Mother, 
 
 Your t &c. 
 
 K ? LETTER
 
 196 
 
 ^.'L-JI'itti r!i hcO 
 
 LETTER CXXIII. 
 
 TFEEL exquifite afm'ftion for my brother's illnefs ; but 
 'tis not his intereft in this world, nor even his 
 life, that gives me the moft fenfible concern: If Hea- 
 ven gives his mind a relith and difpofition for immortal 
 happinefs, I confefs my warmeft wifhes are anfwer'd. 
 O may that God, that has been your dwelling place 
 from generation to generation, confirm his covenant witk 
 the feed of the righteous ; and may you find that trea- 
 fure you have committed to him fecur'd, when the times 
 of refreming fhall come ! Indeed 1 have no fears left 
 on this head, when I confider the fouls of your children 
 were made the charge of Providence by the prayers of 
 their dying father. A juft man would take Charge of 
 the efiate of an orphan left to his care, and Jhail net 
 the 'Judge of all the earth do right ? t am fatisfy'd, I 
 ihall find the fpirit of my much-lov'd hufband triumph- 
 ing before the throne of God, as foon as my releafe 
 from this tirefome world is fign'd. 
 
 O fy, yc lingering hours ! 
 
 I DARE not perfuade my father to change the air, 
 nor undertake a journey to London, for fear what the 
 oonfequence may be. Our ways are in the hands of 
 God, who prevents, or fucceeds our defigns ; there is 
 a determined event to every thing, which 'tis not in the 
 power of man to refill. Thefe thoughts keep my mind 
 from much anxiety. There can pafs but a few circling 
 year?, and all will be well ; mortality irfelf is the great- 
 eft incumbrarice: But 'twill not be long before thefe 
 walls of feparation will moulder into their primitive 
 duft, and we ihall meet in perfect purity and joy. 
 / am, tny dear Mother, 
 
 Tour t &c. 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER CXXIV. 
 
 <To the fame. 
 
 I AM extremely concerned to hear that my dear mo- 
 ther has not her ufual health. It ihall be my con- 
 ftant prayer, that Heaven may long preferve your life, 
 as a bleffing to your family, and an example of unble- 
 mifh'd piety to all your friends. I cannot but hope we 
 mail meet again in this world, and pleafe myfelf with 
 the thoughts of enjoying my dear mother the next fum - 
 mer in the country. I am elfe hopelefs of feeing you ; 
 for the more I think, the more I am refolv'd on an 
 abfolute retreat from this world, of whofe vanity Hea- 
 ven has effectually convinced me, in the breach of the 
 tendereft engagement of life. I have now no fears or 
 hopes, that regard this world j and as to the next, I 
 thank God, and afcribe it intirely to his goodnefs, all 
 my profpe&s are gay and tranfporting : And I am only 
 waiting here, like the hireling, for the clofe of the 
 evening, which is drawing on apace, and then I fhall 
 lie down to reft. 
 
 ADIEU, my dear mother, God grant you may be 
 long continued a joy and confolation to all your friends, 
 and to none more than to 
 
 Tour, &C. 
 
 K 5 LETTER
 
 LETTER CXXV. 
 
 2*0 the fame. 
 
 IF I knew any arguments to allay my own grief, I 
 would ufe them with my deareft mother. The news 
 of my * brother's death came in a time when I was ill 
 prepar'd for it : But I am perfuaded the lives we lament 
 are both perfe&ed in immortal glory. 
 
 MY brother's ill ftate of health has hung heavy on 
 my foul, ever fmce he was here. Heaven can witnefs, 
 how often, amidft the watches of the night, I have fent 
 up petitions for his eternal welfare j and I am perfuaded 
 the Spirit of God affifted me wkh more warm and; 
 prevailing arguments than were ufual in other cafes to 
 my formal heart. And amidft aH the bloom and gayety 
 of youth, that powerful voice that faid, Let there bi 
 light, and there ivas light, could eafily, and in an inftant, 
 give the foul a difpofition for immortal pleafure, and the 
 fplendor of the beatific vifion j of whick I am fully 
 perfuaded my much.-lov'd brother is now poffefs'd. 
 
 I TAKE much more care of my life than 'tis worth, 
 on any account, but what regards another ; for, oh ! I 
 long to be at reft; tir'd with, vanity and life, I would 
 fain lie down in the peaceful folitude of the grave ; in. 
 the grave, where all my earthly joys lie buried. 
 
 1 am> Sec. 
 
 * Mr. William Rcvje : He died en the fame day with* 
 Mr. Singer t A$til\%tb* 1719. 
 
 JLETTER
 
 LETTER CXXVI. 
 
 5T<? the fame. 
 
 YOUR letter, my dear mother, brought me very 
 agreeable news, after a thoufand fears and an- 
 xious thoughts for my poor fitter ; and I defire to join 
 with you in the moft fmcere and pious gratitude to her 
 great Deliverer. God has bleft you with children, that 
 in every refpeft might be the pride and boaft of the hap- 
 pieft mothers ; and if there mould have been no allay, 
 your fatisfaftion would have been too great for a ftate 
 in uncertain as mortal life. Thofe that are gone, like 
 flowers in the fpring, appear'd, and foon retir'd to the 
 fountain of life and beauty j where you'll find them for 
 ever flourifhing in the paradife of God. 
 
 I AM now making up accounts with the young gen- 
 tleman to whom my father was guardian, and in a few 
 months I hope to be intirely free ; and as to all affairs 
 of this world,, to let my houfe in order to die. And 
 oh ! that I may be as ready as to my fpiritual and 
 great account j and then, how welcome will my releafe 
 and long expected freedom be, from a life, which tho* 
 crown' d with unmerited bleffings, yet at beft, is but 
 vanity ! But I am on the bowlers of reft,, and the happy 
 regions are almoft in fight. 
 
 I HAVE endeavour'd to make refolutions of going 
 to London, this fpring > but there ftill hangs a dead 
 weight on my foul, that takes off all the fprings of 
 aftion ; and 'tis likely my next remove will be to th 
 manfions of the dead. There is no fight, on this fide 
 heaven, more dear to me, than that of my dear mo- 
 ther ; but I dare flatter myfelf with no profpeft of hap- 
 pinefs on this fide the confines of Paradife. 
 
 lam, &c. 
 K 4. LETTER
 
 2 CO 
 
 LETTER CXXVII. 
 
 <To Mifs SARAH ROWE. 
 
 AFTER I have told you, my dear fitter, that 
 your brother is well, I have nothing in the world 
 of confequence to fay to you. Perhaps you expect I 
 fhould excufe my filence ; but my letter will effectually 
 convince you how little you fuffer at any time by my 
 neglects of that nature ; and inftead of begging your 
 pardon for writing.no fooner, I find I want all your cha- 
 rity to forgive my writing now. I am quite tir'd with, 
 my own dulnefs, thefe formal fentences will never reach, 
 to the bottom of the paper. If I fhould go on after 
 this grave manner, you'll be tempted to think I have 
 patch 'd up a letter out of Wit's Commonwealth ; but I 
 affure you 'twill be doing me the laft hijuftice, for 'tis 
 all my own, and has put my genius on the ilretch too. 
 
 I THINK I'll talk of love now, for. that's my darling 
 theme; and I am fare it ought to be yours. Now, 
 with the help of a fine quotation, I hope I mall fill 
 up the reft of my paper. I can't talk of love, with- 
 out bringing in the country fcenes, which never fail t& 
 indulge the foft paffion. 
 
 See what delights in fyl-van fcenes appear, 
 
 Defcending Gods have found Efyfium here. 
 
 In woods bright Venus with Adonis fir ay 1 % 
 
 Jnd chajie Diana haunts the for eft Jhade. 
 
 Come, lovely nymph > and llefs the ' Jilent hours, 
 
 When fwaim fiQtn Jbearing feek their nightly Lowers * 
 
 When weary reapers quit the fultry field, 
 
 And, crown d with com, their thanks to Ceres yic Id* 
 
 Some Godcondutt you to tbcfe blifsful fiats, 
 
 The tuoj/y fountains, and the green retreats.
 
 LETTERS. 201 
 
 Where'er you walk, cool Jkades Jhall fan the glade \ 
 Trses, <ivbereyou Jit, Jhall croud into a Jhade ; 
 Where'er you tread, the bluflring flaw 1 rs fball rife ; 
 And all things flour ijh, where you turn your eyes. 
 
 I am, my dear Sifter, 
 
 Your, fete 
 
 LETTER CXXVIII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 YOUR brother is very devoutly reading Quarles 
 to me, and by that, gives me a good excufe to 
 write nonfenfe. We are reduc'd to the laft neceflity, 
 by the want of our things, and Mr. Rowe is forc'd to> 
 read the pamphlets of the laft age for his entertain- 
 ment. He continues very well, and does not complain 
 of the leaft diforder in his health. We are ftill at Ag- 
 ford, and mould tafte all delights the country fcenes 
 afford, if we could meet fuch nymphs as you in every 
 verdant made to converfe with j your company would 
 complete the enjoyment, and give the groves and ftreams 
 new charms. You know, my dear fitter, that I am al- 
 ways unaffe&ed and fincere in thefe kind of profcfiions. 
 
 '7/V not indeed my talent to engage 
 
 In lofty trifles, or to fwell my page 
 
 With wind andnoife ; but freely to impart ', 
 
 As to a friend, the fecrets of my heart : 
 
 And in familiar fyeech to let you know, 
 
 Hciv much I love you, and how mucb I e-ive. 
 
 K 5 Knock
 
 202 LETTERS. 
 
 Knock at my heart y for t&ou baft Jkill tc.find 
 
 If it found folid, or be fiWd with ivind; 
 
 dud thro 1 the veil of wordi thou. vieiv'Jf the naked 
 
 \ 
 
 AFTER all this verfe and" profe, T hope you'll grant 
 I have wrote a long letter ; but have a little patience, 
 and I'll releafe you, with my moft grateful thanks and 
 fincere duty- to my mother, to whom I have too great 
 obligations to be exprefs'd ;. but all that obedience and 
 gratitude can return, (he may ftill command from me. 
 
 1 am, my dear Sifter, 
 
 Your, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXXIX, 
 
 I'D the fame. 
 
 IF the Speffafor had not told me, that the greateft 
 friendfhips are leaft noify and" talkative, my own ex- 
 perience would have convinced me of it. I can't tell' 
 you, my dear filter, how much I value you, without 
 doing violence to my own temper, which is extremely 
 reierv'd in making pretenfions of this nature. But I 
 muft do myfelf the juftice to affure you, that abfence 
 has not at all leffen'd my efteem for you, tho' I have 
 keen fo very flow in telling you fo. I never wander 
 in thefe charming walks, to- indulge a ferious thought, 
 but I wi(h you here, and fancy with how much plea- 
 lire our converfation might rife from earthly to heavenly 
 things, and paint the blifsful groves and fields of light, 
 where love and facred friendship reign for ever. 
 
 I HO.P2
 
 LETTERS. 203 
 
 I HOPE you have your health better than you had in 
 town ; and for your being happy, I don't doubt but 
 'tis the care of Providence to make you fo. Adieu, 
 my dear fifter, and may the light of his countenance, 
 whole benignity is better than life, conduct you to im- 
 mortal joys. 
 
 / am. Sec. 
 
 LETTER CXXX. 
 
 'To the fame. 
 
 HOW happy, my dear fifter, mould I think myfelf, 
 if I could kindle one fpark of that heavenly fire 
 in your breaft, that burm fo faintly in my own ! How 
 bleft mould I be, to find it in my power to help you 
 forward but one ftep in thofe facred paths, from which I 
 myfelf mall, perhaps, for ever err ! 
 
 'The gates of bell ft and 'open night and day, 
 Smooth the defcent, and eafy is the 'way ; 
 But to afcend, and view the blifsful Jkies, 
 There the fatigue and mighty labour lies. 
 
 'Tis a difficulty, which in fome anxious moments almoft 
 tempts me to yield to my fears, and tamely give up 
 my title to an immortal crown, and bid the fields of 
 light adieu. Thus, 
 
 "By glimmering hopes, end gloomy fears, 
 
 We trace the facred road ; 
 Thro' difmal deeps, ntnl dtmgroiis jnarfs r 
 
 We make our way to Cad. 
 
 I KI8HT
 
 204 LETTERS. 
 
 I MIGHT have fav'd myfelf, and yon, my clear Men,, 
 the trouble of this letter ; but that I fhould not have 
 feen you without fotne confufion, after I have fo long 
 neglected to write to you ; and this would have been 
 fome allay to the plefafure I promife myfelf in meeting 
 you again. Wefhall be in London, I hope, next week. 
 I haVe perfuaded Mr. Ro--we to go a fortnight before: 
 his time, for fear the weather and roads (hould prove in- 
 tolerable. If any thing could make me love the town, 
 'twould be the tendernefs I have for you : My manner 
 of expreffing it is perhaps too referv'd. 
 
 My "words are f civ f but from an honeft heart ; 
 And truth makes up for eloquence and art. 
 
 But the liberty and folitude I enjoy in the country, charms 
 me fo much, that to gain that happinefs, I could even 
 bid you, my dear fitter, farewel, 'till we meet in the 
 realms of uninterrupted peace and pleafure. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXXXI. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 I HAVE been juft taking a folitary walk, and enter* 
 taining myfelf with all the innocent pleafures, that 
 verdant {hades, painted flowers, fragrant breezes and 
 warbling birds can yield. If I could communicate myr 
 pleafure by defcription, I would call the mufes to af- 
 fift me ; but I am afraid 'twould be infipid to you, that 
 are but moderately fond of the country. Yet I am 
 
 fiure-
 
 LETTERS. 205: 
 
 fure you would relifli any pleafure that heighten 'd your 
 devotion ; and what can more effectually raife it, than 
 viewing the beauties of nature ? I have been pulling a 
 thoufand flowers in pieces, to view their elegance and 
 variety > and have a thoufand times with rapture re- 
 peated Mi It oil's lines. 
 
 Thefe are thy glorious works, Parent cf good, 
 Almighty ', thine this unl--verfal frame. 
 Thus ivon^rcus fair ; thyfelf bow tvon^rous then / 
 Speak, ye, nvho left can tell, ye fans of light, 
 Angels ; for ye behold him.< > 
 
 They indeed behold the great Original ; but 'tis not de- 
 Tiy'd me to trace his footfteps in the flowery fields, and 
 hear fome faint echoes of his voice, in the harmony of 
 birds, or meet his gentle whifpers, in the foftnefs of the 
 evening breezes ; yet this only raifes my impatience to- 
 be admitted to the blifsful vifion of uncreated beauty. 
 
 My foul the mojl exalted pitch would fy, 
 And fee him in the heights of majejiy. 
 
 WE ftiall be in London, in a very little time. I long, 
 to fee you, and expeft the happy moment with the laft 
 impatience ; but I own I fliould relifh my happinefe 
 more perfectly, if we were to meet in fome rural fhade^ 
 remote from the noife and tumult of the town : But all 
 human blifs muft have its allay, and we are not to ex- 
 pefl unmingled pleafures, 'till we meet in the walks of 
 Paradife. 
 
 ADIEU, my dear fifter; may angels guard you, and- 
 Heaven blefs you with perpetual fruiles. 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 LETTER
 
 2O6 
 
 LETTER CXXXtt, 
 
 Sfo the fame. 
 
 WHEN J write to you, my dear filter, I can't 
 forbear talking of what lies neareft my heart, 
 and raifing a frefh concern in yours, for rhe lofs of your 
 charming brother. Since that fatal moment, my fou! 
 has never known a joy that has been fmcere. I look 
 backward, and recall nothing but tormenting icenes of 
 pleafures that have taken their everlafling flight ; and 
 forward, every profpeft is wild and gloomy. Why 
 was I ever happy ? or why can't J, by any motives of 
 reafon, forget the objed of my care ? That's impoflible ! 
 the charming form appears forever in my fight, and I 
 half deceive myfelf with imaginary joys ; but when I 
 recover from the foft delusion, I grow perfectly wild 
 and favage, and fly humankind, becaufe I can fee no- 
 thing that refembles him ; and am dilgufted at every 
 found I hear, becaufe it dees not imitate his voice. 
 
 O he was all my fiull ivea/t&, friend/kip, honour, 
 Ml prefent joys, and earnejl of the future,. 
 Were all fumm V up in him. 
 
 THE * inclos'd, my dear filler, is what my melan- 
 choly fancy dictated on the return of the fatal day that 
 robb'd me at once of all the joys of life ; a day that 
 I have forever confecrated to folitude and grief. My 
 conftancy to the charming youth, and regard to his 
 memory, fhall be the pride and glory of my life ; arid 
 I flatter myfelf it fhall be mentioned at my funeral, and 
 
 * The poem on the return of the day on 
 Mr. Rtnve died, printed in vol. I. p. 1 1.5.
 
 LETTERS. 207 
 
 ;rave. 1 would fay more, but n 
 
 much, and tears prevent the relt. 
 
 O celfjlial point, that ends this mortal flory ! 
 
 writ on my grave. 1 would fay more, but my 
 
 rits fink too much, and tears prevent the rett. 
 
 LETTER CXXXIII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 I HAVE been hearing an anthem extremely well fung; 
 to a fpinet ; the words were, Hciu amiable are thy ta- 
 nacles f my foul longtth, yea fainteth for the courts of 
 the Lord, You may much more eafily imagine than I* 
 can exprefs, the pleasure of fuch an entertainment : It has 
 been a tafte of the joys of immortality. lean thinlc of 
 nothing elfe at prefent, and fo you'll efcape being teiz'd,.. 
 this time, with what ufes to be my eternal theme, the- 
 groves and flowery fields. But even in thefe there's or- 
 der and harmony. 
 
 What ra<vijkes the foul, or charms the ear y . 
 
 Is mujic, tho" a various drefs it nvear. 
 
 Beauty is tnujic too, tho 1 in difguife ; 
 
 Too fine to touch the ear r it Jlrikes the eyes, 
 
 And t thro 1 them, to the foul the filtnt ftroke conveys. 
 
 I 
 
 I HOPE you faw the lights that appear'd in-thefkies 
 kft week. You know my temper is foftand credulous 
 to the laft extreme, therefore 'twill not be hard 
 for you to think, what a deep impreffion fuch an ap > 
 pearance nmft make on my imagination. Thofe that 
 know more of the courfe of nature, may view thefe 
 things with left furprize j tho' I confefs I faw nothing 
 
 terrible,
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 terrible, but all was glorious and extraordinary ; an<J 
 if it was fent as a prefage, a light fo agreeable can 
 foretel nothing but happiaefs and profperity. My fa- 
 ther and all the family, wanting my curiofity, went to 
 bed, and left nobody but me and my maid to view the 
 wonders in the heavens. And in fpight of the cold, 
 and my own indifpofition, I ftaid 'till near two a- clock 
 in- the morning in the open air, while, as far as I know, 
 all the town befides lay drown'd in ftupid {lumbers. But 
 I never faw a fight fo magnificent as the ftreams of glory 
 that feem'd to flow over the firmament,. . juft at mid- 
 night. With what rapture, at that filent hour, did I 
 furvey the wonders of God's power and greatnefs in 
 the fkies ! 'Twas the moft agreeable fcene my eyes 
 ever beheld ; but I hope, one time or other, to fee a 
 brighter, at the dawn of the eternal morning. But oh ! 
 how long, before the day -break, and the madows fly 
 away ! 
 
 I WISH you a thoufand bleflings, and 
 
 am, Sec, 
 
 LETTER CXXXIV. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 IF I could write to you, my dear Mer, with half 
 the pleafure that I could talk to you, you would 
 hear oftner from me. There are a thoufand impertinent 
 negligent things, which have a very good air in con- 
 verfation, that make but a filly appearance, when one 
 comes to write them down, and fubfcribe to them in a 
 formal manner. If I was talking to you, I mould, 
 without the leaft remorfe, enter into a panegyric on the 
 art magic, and tell you how much I envy'd Tajft's Ar>
 
 LETTERS. 209 
 
 miJa, who could in an inftant raife gardens and groves 
 by the power of inchantment; while I am forc'd to 
 wait Che flow progrefs of nature, and the awkward ope- 
 ration of human hands. For after all my hopes and en- 
 deavours, I have nothing towards a garden, bat a ftone 
 wall. This dry weather withers every thing, and now 
 the patient people tell me, I can do nothing 'till ano- 
 ther fpring ; as if I was to live to the age of Shalum's 
 miftrefs in the Spefiator, Thefe difappointments are,, 
 indeed, trifles in the courfe of life ; but yet they ought 
 to produce this ferious reflection, that man walks in a 
 vain Jhe f w ) and Jif quiets himfelf in wain. 
 
 I A M extremely pleas'd with the tragedy of the Fall 
 tf Siam ; but am ready, at any time, to retract my opi- 
 nion, in deference to the public tafte. I am very much 
 
 oblig'd to Mr. , for endeavouring to procure 
 
 the French Cato for me. If he goes to the Bath this 
 fummer, I hope he'll ftay fome time at Frcme j but for 
 the next fummer, I have no hopes or fears, that con- 
 cern fuch a diftance of time. 
 
 I find I had no reafon to write in a capital hand, for 
 I fhall fill up my paper, and leave fome impertinence 
 for the next opportunity. 
 
 lam, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXXXV. 
 
 To Mr. WILLIAM ROWE. 
 
 MY heart has charg'd you, my dear brother, with 
 nothing but what is incident to mortality ; with 
 nothing but that mutability > to which the whole creation 
 
 ' is.
 
 ,io LETTERS. 
 
 Is fubje& : And indeed die whole creation pleads m 
 your excufe ; the changing feafons, and the revolutions 
 of the heavens themfelves, reproach my heart for the 
 confidence it placed in vain man. 
 
 You hardly think the tears are falling from my eyes, 
 as indeed they are, while 1 am writing in this fantaftic 
 
 MY foul is 111 prepared, my dear brother, to fee you j 
 I know you will recall to my thoughts a thoufand di- 
 ftra&ing fcenes, that I vainly ilrive to blot from my me- 
 mory ; unlefs yon are as much alter'd in every thing, as 
 you tell me you are in your temper, and have loft all re- 
 iernblance of your brother. I am impatient to fee you-, 
 and yet I can't promiie myfelf a moment's fatisfa&ion ; 
 my foul is fo us'd to melancholy images, that nothing 
 cheaTS the eternal gloom. You need not bring any 
 new books into the country with you; for fmce Mr. 
 Sotue's death all kinds of entertainment are infipid to 
 me* and I look on every thing below the ftars with in- 
 difference and contempt* 
 
 Adisu, 
 
 LETTER CXXXVL 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 My clear Brotfor, 
 
 XO U are very patient to bear with my epiftles r 
 fince I can fend you no intelligence from wilds 
 lefarts, and know as little of this world, as people 
 who have made their exit from it ; which makes it very 
 hard for me to maintain a correfpondence with any of 
 ay friends who are ftill furviving.; nor are people very- 
 fond
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 fond of converting with fpe&res and departed fpiritt. 
 But there is a fort of ferious and melancholy pleafure,. 
 in fancying one's felf in a Hate of feparation. As all my 
 joys lie x buried in. the duft, my imagination fixes itfelf 
 with eafe on thefe fubjeds ; nor does the filence and 
 folitude which reigns eternally in my chamber, differ 
 very much from that of a fepulchre. However, my 
 thoughts are not intirely confin'd to thefe gloomy man- 
 iions, but fometimes make excurfions into the Elyjiati 
 fields and myrtle groves j 
 
 Where cro*wn*d ivitfi Jlo'vj'rs they reft o/i m ^JJy beds? 
 By cryftal ftreami that murmur thro 1 the nuads. 
 No 'wintry horrors blaft the blifsful clime. 
 But faring perpetual fmiles in rofy pt ime : 
 Nor guilt, nor 'woe pollute the happy plains y 
 But pleafure in eternal triumph reigns* 
 
 But the foothing vifion foon difappears, and I return to 
 dull mortality again, and eat, and drink, and dream 
 fucceffively, with fome mort intervals of reafon ; which, 
 are filPd up with impatient wifhes for the breaking of 
 the immortal day, when this low and wretched part of 
 exiftence (hall find a period then all beyond is ac- 
 tive pleafure, and undecaying life. 
 
 ADIEU, my dear brother, I would willingly flatter 
 jnyfelf, that I am on the borders of the immaterial 
 world, and mall never fee you more, 'till we meet 
 above the ftars. But oh ! may you fee a thoufand hap- 
 py days, and pratfife the nobleft heights of virtue,, 
 when I am releas'd from all the toils and forrows of 
 mortality, and gently rell on my dully bed. 
 
 I am, Arc, 
 
 LETTER
 
 . 
 
 rtlW^.-lMfl^WstoT* rf'r* * 
 
 LETTER CXXXVIt, 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 O U are not more charm 'd with your hero, than 
 I am to find you pleas'd with the moft noble 
 
 Y 
 
 and fublime parts of the new tragedy. 'Tis true, ac- 
 cording to the weaknefs of my fex, I might have been 
 touch'd with beauties of a more foft and effeminate na- 
 ture ; but it mews a fuperior turn of mind, to enter into* 
 public and generous fentiments, of which you exprefs fo 
 juft an admiration. 
 
 You have too modeft an opinion of yourfelf, in 
 fufpe&ing my friendOup j tho 1 the tender relation I had 
 to your brother is diflblv'd, a thoufend other obligations 
 bind me to the intereft of your family, which no time, 
 nor accident, will have power to blot from my foull 
 While virtue and gratitude are words of facred impor- 
 tance, I ihall never lofe the remembrance of the ferie* 
 of favours I received from you in my late happy rela- 
 tion. Your whole family feem'd in a gentle confede- 
 racy, how to crown my hours with tranquility and joy- 
 May that kind and generous treatment I had among 
 you, find a full retribution ; whatever bleffings Heaven 
 has in ilore for mortals, may they be all yours. 
 
 FOR myfelf, I aflc nothing, but to conclude my part 
 as foon as poflible, and to finifh the great aUon of life 
 with the applaufe of that impartial Judge, who knows 
 the moft fecret intentions of my foul. 
 
 BUT whatever variety of happinefs, whatever dura- 
 tion of being I {hall pafs, my efteem for you will be 
 unalterable : Thofe fparks of amity and beneficence 
 which Heaven has kindled in my breaft, can never be 
 
 extin-
 
 LETTERS. 213 
 
 extinguifh'd ; this facred principle of Love fhall be per- 
 petually improving in the peaceful realms of light. 
 
 When conftar.t Faith, and My Hope Jhall die, 
 -One loft in certainty, and one in joy, 
 Then thou, more happy pGitfr, fair Charity, 
 Triumphant fifter^ great eft of the three, 
 Thy office and thy nature jlill the fame, 
 Lifting thy lamp, and unconjunfd thy flame, 
 
 Shalt Jlill furvive 
 
 Shalt ft and before the throne of hea-ifn conftft^ 
 Fcrei'tr blejjing, and forever bleft t 
 
 PRIOR. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 LETTER CXXXVIII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 iV/y dear Brother, 
 
 MY friendfhip for you burns with an undecaying 
 flame, and is as conftant as the breath of life ; 
 and even when that fhall ceafe, and the duft returns to 
 its primitive duft, and the fpirit to its divine original, 
 this holy paffion fhall acquire new activity. 
 
 BE afTur'd that nothing that concerns yourfelf can be 
 infignificant to me : If you would but lengthen out your 
 letters, tho' it were whh the moft trifling things you can 
 invent, 'twould be agreeable to one that has the fondeft 
 concern for you. 
 
 IF
 
 214 LETTER S. 
 
 IF you knew the difpofition of my heart, you would 
 liave no reafon to make an apology for not writing in a 
 more gay and fprightly manner. Whatever is penfive 
 and ferious, fuits my natural tafte, and is intirely agree- 
 able to the prefent gloomy circumftances of my life. I 
 am quite tir'd with the calm and happy mortals that 
 furround me, and, to my great vexation, I can't meet 
 one countenance in which there is not an abfolute va- 
 cancy of thoughtfulnefs and care. 'Tis furprizing, that 
 fuch fcrene and untroubled ftupidity can be maintain'd 
 amidft all the miferies of mortality. 
 
 Hew *uain is "hope, and koiv 'vexatious thought f 
 
 From growing childhood to declining age, 
 
 Hciv tedious t'v'ry ftep ! how gloomy etfry ftage ! 
 
 This caurfe of vanity almoft complete, 
 
 Tir'd in the field of life, I hope retreat 
 
 In the jlill Jhades of death: For dread, and pain, 
 
 4nd grief, at 1 /// find their Jhafts elanc'd in vain, 
 
 And their points broke, retorted from the head, 
 
 Safe in the grave, and free among the dead. 
 
 PRIOR. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 
 P. S. I forgot to bid the honeft man who is to call 
 at your houfe, knock, if he found the door fhut. Jf 
 that {hould be the cafe, I am fure he'll be guilty of no 
 violence, but will return back as innocently as any Hot- 
 tentot juft brought out of his native rock. I believe 
 he never made any noife fince he was born. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER CXXXIX. 
 
 the fame. 
 
 V HAVE a thoufand kind and ferious things to fay to 
 J my deareft brother ; but oh ! in what language fhall 
 I fpeak ? Lend me your harps, ye angels, and teach me 
 fome of the melting notes by which you give departing 
 feints a tafte of celeftial raptures. 
 
 Such notes as echo thro' the blifsful fhitt, 
 When your immortal loves infpire the grains, 
 
 Heavens ! that creatures born for infinite things fhould 
 ever trifle ! that beings form'd for lafting and unmingled 
 happinefs, fliould give up their pretenfions for unfub- 
 ftantial dreams and fleeting fhadows ! 
 
 INSTEAD of opening the fcenes of paradife, I am 
 got into a fplenetic reflection on the miferies of mor- 
 tality. 'Twill not be otherwife, while my foul wears a 
 mortal frame ; but when I have learn'd the fongs of pa- 
 radife, Til endeavour to allure you from this vain world 
 to the heavenly regions. 
 
 I HAVE juft heard that Mr. is dead, and fo 
 fuddenly, that he was fitting in his chair with no mortal 
 in the room ; only his wife heard a difmal groan, and 
 running to him, found him fpeechlefs, and his eyes fet 
 in death. His wretched life and infidel principles have 
 given my thoughts a very melancholy turn, and I have 
 chofen this ferious moment to write to my desreft bro- 
 ther. Nor can I imagine, why the fubjecl mould be 
 difagreeable to you : To you, I would perfuade myfelf, 
 death has nothing in his afpedl but finales and graces. 
 And oh!
 
 ai6 LETTERS, . 
 
 Whene'er thou dyjl^ may arms of angels waft tbee 
 To thofe fmooth joys that have no trotex moment. 
 
 I FANCY you look on my letters as conftant memento 1 1 
 of mortality, and open them with as much folemnity as 
 you do a fermon ilitch'd in black paper, with a death's 
 head in the frontifpiece. But, my dear brother, while 
 mortality hangs about us, the folemn truth will return 
 on our memory, whatever pains we take to banifh it. 
 
 lam, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXL. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 I Do not envy you the pleafure of reading Mr. '$ 
 tragedy; but, my dear brother, I confefs I envy 
 him the happinefs of having pleas'd fo exact a judge. 
 I don't queftion but 'tis extremely fine, fmce it has de- 
 ferv'd your approbation. I believe you need not be in 
 any pain about the difpofal of the author's heart; he 
 knows how a heroine fhould be made, and if he does 
 not find real graces, can eafily fupply them out of his 
 own gay imagination. You know a poetic fancy has 
 
 Lengths, and heights, and depths vnknonvn, 
 Broad fields with blooming glories fo<wn y 
 And feasy find Jkies, and ftars its o c wn y 
 In an unmeafur^d fpbere, 
 
 Dr. WATTS. 
 
 " 1 BUT
 
 LETTERS. 217 
 
 UUT I fancy, when your turn comes to love, you will 
 not be fo cheaply provided with materials to complete 
 your felicity. But oh ! indulge this noble delicacy, it 
 may guide you to perfect happinefs. For fure the 
 charming paffion has a divine original, for God himfelf 
 is Love ; by him the facred flame \vas kindled, and fills 
 the foul with generous fentiments and elegant delires : 
 It breaks thro' all created perfection, and keeps on its 
 reftlefs courfe to the firft Pattern of whatever is excel- 
 lent or fair. 
 
 You fee, my dear brother, whether I tread the paths 
 to perdition, of thofe that guide me to the ftars, Love is 
 the moving principle : 'Tis fo, I am fure, when I make 
 wifhes for your happinefs, and pray that every gentle 
 power above may be propitious to my deareft brother. 
 
 LETTER CXLI. 
 
 <T<? the fame. 
 
 PERHAPS I treated you with too much fmcerity 
 in my lafl. ; but, my dear brother, you find by it, 
 that I believe every thing of you that can be an ad- 
 vantage, to your character, and would fancy, that you 
 poflefs every mining quality that makes you refemble the 
 object of my fondeft thoughts and endlefs grief: He 
 taught my heart a paffion, whofe nicety and grandeur 
 could not fail of giving my future thoughts a fort of 
 ferious elevation ; while with gratitude I acknowledge 
 the power, and blefs the divinity of Love. 
 
 WHEN you make wifhes for me again, my deareft 
 brother, let net long life be join'd to the bleffines you 
 
 ii. L k:
 
 218 LETTERS. 
 
 aflc. I am tir'd with the vanities beneath the fun ; all 
 the pleafures that amufe mankind are but dreams of hap- 
 pinefs, (hades and fantaftic appearances. You don't be- 
 lieve me, I know; but the fatal experiment will convince 
 you of this melancholy truth, within the courfe of a 
 few circling years, if Heaven permits you to reach them ; 
 if not, when arm'd with virtue, 
 
 What is there in this dreadful nothing. Death, 
 That <we Jhould fear ? 
 
 Whatever darknefs hangs on the gloomy valley, beyond 
 it ten thoufend dazzling fcenes arife, more beautiful than 
 the vifions of Mirza. For my part, I fet no limits to 
 my expectations, nor reftrain my fancy from making the 
 boldeft excurfions into thefe infinite regions, where I 
 behold beauty in all its exquifite variety, and hear the 
 found of immortal harmony. 
 
 / ivalk among the manjions of the Gods, 
 'The /oft rece/es, and the bleft abodes. 
 
 I AM got into the celeftial ftile, and would fain for- 
 get, that I am writing to a beau, a mere terreflrial 
 creature. But oh ! 
 
 I Jink at once, and /ea<ve the Jkies. 
 
 How tranfient are the flights of devotion ! how foon 
 do earthly objects return with all their feducing advan- 
 tages! 
 
 Faint are the efforts of my will, 
 Jlnd mortal pajfion charms my foul a [tray. 
 
 ADJEV, my deareft brother. May Heaven make you 
 happy beyond the limits of your own wifties. 
 
 LETTER
 
 2I 9 
 
 L E T T E R CXLII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 YOU are in the right, my dear brother, in be- 
 lieving that I had much rather date my letters to 
 you from the morning ftar, or the argent fields of the 
 inoon, than from a little village in the county of So- 
 tmrfet. Mortality itfelf, without its attendant evils, 
 feems to me a very humbling circumftance ; and I am 
 delighted with the divines for giving it the reproachful 
 terms of flavery, chains, imprisonment, and every thing 
 hateful to reafon and nature. But fmce there is no con- 
 cealing the mortifying truth, without quitting the plea- 
 fure of your correfpondence, I am content you fhould 
 know, that I am ilill below the liars, confin'd to thefe 
 dufty regions, breathing the grofs element of air, and 
 drinking tea inftead of neclar, and incumber'd with a 
 body of clay, inftead of fparkling in a vehicle of light. 
 I am ftill no better than a wretched mortal, and am 
 forc'd to content myfelf with walks of turf or gravel, 
 however ambitious you think me of fetting my feet on 
 the fpangled pavement, and tracing the milky way. But 
 ftill my imagination is unconfin'd, and makes many a 
 gay excurfion to the realms of day, wanders thro 1 the 
 Elyjlan fields, and reclines beneath myrtle fhades ; where 
 
 On floors reposed, and tvith frejh fiouret 
 'They eat, they drink, and in communion foueef, 
 Quaff immortality and joy fecure, 
 
 But the foothing vifion quickly takes its flight, the ce- 
 leftial fcenes vanifli, and, for an ethereal inlargement, I 
 find myfelf limited to a den, a dwelling in the duft : 
 Inftead of feafting on ambrofia, and banquetting with 
 angels, I am reduc'd to the common food of mortals ; 
 and, inftead of the mufic of the fpheres, am ferenaded 
 k 2 with
 
 220 LETTERS. 
 
 with a ploughman's whittle, or fome ruftic fhepherd's 
 jovial roundelay. However, I have my (hare of tran- 
 quility in this ftormy world. This low part of exiflence 
 will foon be ended, and all beyond is refin'd and ex- 
 alted happinefs. 
 
 ddieu. 
 
 LETTER CXLIII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 YOUR letter has given me a little relifh for life 
 and the world again, which I had intirely loft 
 before. Whatever wild ambition craves, or boundlefs 
 vanity can paint, the fplendor of the great, and the 
 pleafures of the libertine, had loft their inchantinp; ap- 
 pearances; while my gloomy imagination fancy'd my 
 deareft brother expiring, and with him, all the charms 
 that youth and blooming life could boaft. 
 
 The fair (ft flo^r (bard fate!) but blows and dies, 
 Does its gay honours to our eyes difplay, 
 dnd <while we praife its beauty, Jinks away. 
 
 STRENGTH of reafon, and fortitude of mind [ what 
 pompous words are thefe ? but how little do they fignify 
 to a mind fo unguarded and effeminate as mine ? I have 
 a concern for my deareft brother's life, which no argu- 
 ment can remove, nor any amufement divert ; nothing 
 but filent tears can relieve me. Heaven, who knows the 
 fecret idolatry of my heart, may, perhaps, remove the 
 darling objeft, and Wot every name, but what is divine, 
 from my foul. 
 
 I WAS
 
 LETTERS. 221 
 
 I WAS going to pray for you, but, my deareft bro- 
 ther, I know not what bleffings to afk : Not what 
 would make you happy, that relate only to this world ; 
 let the ardor of my vows (and liftening angels can wit- 
 nefs how fincere they are) let them procure immortal 
 pleafures for you, and I mall clofe my eyes in peace, 
 and thank the propitious powers with my expiring breath. 
 Adieu. If half my prayers reach the ikies, you mult, 
 you will be happy. 
 
 MR. has a fofter propofal to make to you, 
 
 but the truth of this appears 
 
 To none, but quick poetic eyes. 
 
 I COULD not fold up my letter, without inclofing Mr. 
 Grove's ode on his recovery : The eafy harmony of the 
 numbers, and exalted piety of the fentiments, I'm fure, 
 can't fail of plealing you. 
 
 On the AI/THOR'J Recovery out of 
 Sicknefs. 
 
 Written^ April, 1717. 
 
 I. 
 
 THEE, bounteous author of my days, 
 Thee, their reftorer, let me praife j 
 Thee, gracious God, who from the gates of death. 
 Where I in penfive filence fate, 
 Waiting the dread arreft of fate, 
 My foul didft fave, and fnatch my fleeting breath. 
 
 L 3 II. MT
 
 222 LETTERS. 
 
 ir. 
 
 Mr voice with weaknefs faint become, 
 
 And hollow, like the empty tomb, 
 
 Hoarfe, and fcarcely to be known ; 
 
 Strong, and animated grown, 
 
 Shall be employ'd to found thy fame : 
 And while in loftier notes I laud that name, 
 Which lately I invok'd with feeble cry, 
 Rocks, hills, and vales, fhall to my fong reply* 
 
 III. 
 
 LET me remember too, with what furprize 
 The fiidden darknefs veil'd my eyes. 
 How fickly, and how pale the light, 
 
 When death's impending (hade, 
 Prefage of everlafting night, 
 
 Had round involv'd my head ! 
 To heav'n my languid looks I turn'd^ 
 Nor long my ftate unpity'd mourn'd j 
 Celeftial effluence purg'd the gloom away, 
 And to my fainting eyes reftor'd the day : 
 Therefore for thee, my God, thefe orbs fhall roll, 
 And to thy radiant feat I'll dart, thro 1 them, my fout 
 
 I. 
 
 THINK, vain, fond heart, when on the fteep 
 Of that tremendous, boundlefs deep, 
 Eternity, in fad fufpence I flood ; 
 How all my trifling hopes and fears, 
 My fenfelefs joys, and idle tears, 
 Vanifli'd at profpeft of the frightful flood f 
 
 II. SURE
 
 LETTERS, 223 
 
 ii. 
 
 SURE life is but a huddled dream, 
 
 And time a fwift, deceitful ftream, 
 
 This vain world a mining bubble, 
 
 Only full of wind and trouble : 
 
 Yet this, great God, this is the prize, 
 For which deluded mortals heav'n defpife ; 
 Blinded with pailion after this they run, 
 And fee not, 'till they fee themfelves undone. 
 
 III. 
 
 WHEU, Lord, thy hand the fable curtain drew, 
 And future worlds difclos'd to view, 
 Thefe were my thoughts j and fuch are ftill 
 
 The lefibns of the grave ; 
 But as the purple channels fill, 
 
 We gayer fancies have ; 
 The world its former charms puts on, 
 And we to doat again are won. 
 But, rather than this fhameful chace repeat, 
 And grofsly fuffer, having feen the cheat, 
 A flranger let me live to fatal eafe, 
 That greatnefs may not tempt, wealth fhine, nor flatt'ry 
 pleafe ! 
 
 I. 
 
 RAIS'D from my bed, I'll higher rife, 
 
 And fpringing upward, mate the fides, 
 Nor fhall this load of flefh reftrain my flight > 
 
 So, when the eagle's youth returns, 
 
 With thirlt of bold attempts he burns, 
 Eflays his wings, and towVing, mocks the fight. 
 
 L 4 II. An,
 
 224 LETTERS. 
 
 IT. 
 
 ALL my pafl follies be forgot, 
 
 Loft in one univerfal blot : 
 
 From this aera years begin 
 
 Happy, and unftain'd with fin ; 
 
 And as if life did now commence, 
 And nature's beauties now firft ftruck my fenfe, 
 Tranfported, 1 let me fing from whom I came, 
 Admire his works, and praife the faultlefs frame. 
 
 III. 
 
 MY foul, thou Source of life, with health infpire, 
 
 And aftuate it with thy fire ; 
 
 Let all its pow'rs partake the heat, 
 Imparted by thy love ; 
 
 In all a heav'nly vigour beat 
 Its ev'ry fpring to move. 
 
 Jf thus my body and my mind 
 
 Shall both thy quick'ning influence find, 
 With both thy glory I will ftrive to raife, 
 And to thy fervice confecrate my days ; 
 And while this aims at heav'n, that bows to earth, 
 JEach part will honour Thee, and own its feveral birth. 
 
 I. 
 
 THO' now delay'd, yet death will come, 
 
 By fate's inevitable doom ; 
 When once the deftin'd period is mature, 
 
 No prayVs for refpite will prevail, 
 
 That mightieft engine then muft fail, 
 And the difeafe, we flight, defpair of cure. 
 
 II. SUN,
 
 LETTERS. 22 
 
 ir. 
 
 SUN, ftand tbou ftill, a mortal faid, 
 
 The mortal's voice the fun obey'd, 
 
 Sudden check'd his rapid wheel, 
 
 On the brow of heav'n's fteep hill. 
 
 To double length he ftretch'd that day ; 
 But then, impatient of his longer ftay, 
 His fall he haften'd, and withdrew the light : 
 So flopp'd awhile, my fun muft fet in night. 
 
 III. 
 
 WISELY the bleffing ufe, thou muft refign ; 
 
 The bleffing will not long be thine j 
 
 Prepare, my foul, for thy remove 
 From this frail houfc of clay, 
 
 To feats of fadelefs blifs above, 
 And ever-during day. 
 
 Death (hews not there his meagre face, 
 
 And griefs a ftranger to the place. 
 No annals to record, as here, the time, 
 The bleft preferve ; but ever in their prime, 
 Let eountlefs ages glide away untold, 
 Which witnefs, as they pafs, to joys that ne'er grow old. 
 
 L 5 LETTER
 
 226 
 
 LETTER CXLIV. 
 
 70 the Rev. Mr. JOHN MUNCKLEY, 
 
 SIR, 
 
 TH E confidence your letter gives me of my * bro T 
 ther's happincfs, is all that can fupport me under 
 the difmal tidings of his death : I bore the lofs of my 
 father with much more compofure. The moment your 
 letter came, I was pouring out all the ardor of my foul 
 before God, r or my brother's life, or a full affurance 
 of his future happinefs : The laft your letter brought 
 me. But, oh ! could fpending the day in tears, or the 
 watches of the night in prayers ; could my own life have 
 refcu'd him from the grave, I would have given it. I 
 believe he died on the feme day my father did ; and now 
 they are met to part no more. 
 
 J TOLD my father, two days before he died, of my 
 mother's diftrefs, and that me defir'd his prayers; on 
 which he lifted up his hands, and fixing his eyes ear- 
 nefUy toward heaven, fpoke fhefe words : God .Almighty 
 llefs her, and her family ; kiefs them in their bodies, and 
 blefs them in their fouls* And, after a long and filent 
 paufe, he faid again ; God is faith fuf t he has blejl thetn t 
 and they Jhall be blrjr. 
 
 MY father left all his eftate to me by his will, with- 
 out one legacy to any relation he had, and on the out- 
 fide of his will he fet down this as his reafon j that he 
 might not Jiraighten me t nor hinder any kindncfs that 1 
 jhould dtjign to Jheiu to Mr. Rowe'j family. This ge- 
 nerous concern for them has oblig'd me beyond all the 
 indulgence of his life. 
 
 Mr. William 
 
 JAM
 
 LETTERS. 227 
 
 I A M afraid this affliction fits heavy on my poor fif- 
 ter: But her brother's refemblance to my much-lov'd 
 hufband made him dear to me beyond all the ties of 
 nature, and my grief knows no reaion or limits. 
 
 I SHALL expeft you here, according to your promife : 
 If you are fo inhuman as to difappoint me, it will be 
 the firft ill-natur'd thing I ever knew you guilty of j 
 which will vaftly aggravate your crime. I hope you in- 
 tend to make fome ftay : You fhall be fure of a fincere 
 welcome to 
 
 Tour, &c 
 
 P. S. The anguifh of my heart will not fuffer me to 
 write now to my mother. 
 
 LETT E R CXLV. 
 
 I HAVE lately look'd over Mr. Raise's Lives of il- 
 lujlrious men, and tho' one of the manufcripts is loft, 
 (I need not tell you by whom) the principles and reflec- 
 tions in them are fo juft and noble, I can hardly with a 
 fafe conference fuffer them to be kept any longer front 
 the world. You know Mr. Ronue\ univerfal learning 
 and exact judgment in every thing that was graceful and 
 elegant in human nature or polite writing, and I am 
 fure they were wrote with a def:gn to be made public. 
 However I leave it intirely to your difcretion, to do as 
 you think proper. 
 
 I WAS extremely furpriz'd at the news of Mrs 1 . 
 ' ..... -'s death. I begin to think I have liv'd too 
 
 long,
 
 228 LETTERS. 
 
 long, and {hall fee every thing I value rent from me. 
 'Tis my greateft joy to think the fhadows of the even- 
 ing are lengthening, and that the clofing part, the laft 
 important moment will foon arrive. O may my fun let 
 in fmiles ! 
 
 Lo ! I behold the featuring Jhades y 
 
 The dawn of heaifn appears, 
 The fiueet immortal morning fpreadi 
 
 Its blufhet round the fpheres. 
 
 Mr. WATT a. 
 
 I AM afliam'd to fend you the following lines, but 
 fince 'tis in obedience to your requeft, you will excufe 
 them. I have talk'd of dying fo often, that I can't live 
 much longer with a very good grace, and I ought in de- 
 cency to make my exit, after I have fo ferioufly bid 
 adieu to the world. 
 
 On the return of the day on which Mr. ROWE 
 
 Unhappy day forever now adieu f 
 
 Thffe eyes no mere thy rijing beams Jhall view ; 
 
 Jlefort the fun its annual ccurfe Jhall roll 
 
 Immortal light Jhall open on my foul : 
 
 The years of paradife begin their round, "\ 
 
 With lajiing flowers and endlefs verdure crown" d, > 
 
 In blifsful climes where full delights abound. ^' 
 
 No more, lov'd youth,, the mournful mufe no more 
 
 In melting numbers Jhall thy lofs deplore ; 
 
 *To notes triumphant now I'll tune the lyre, 
 
 And facred love Jhall all the fang in/fire. 
 
 I HOPE you are all well, and happier than this vain 
 world can make you. 
 
 LETTER
 
 229 
 
 LETTER CXLVI. 
 
 70 tbe fame. 
 
 YOU have flatter'd me into a better opinion of 
 the * Letters than I fhould ever have had, with- 
 out your approbation. But oh ! be it far from my foul,, 
 to afcribe any thing to myfelf, 'tis all receiv'd, and 
 let it be facred to the caufe of virtue : If any language 
 of mine has the power of perfuafion, may it be devoted 
 to the intereft and glory of that great Fountain of all 
 perfection, from whom all wifdom flows. 
 
 I DISCOVER fo much original folly, fuch blindnefs 
 and inadvertency, that I am fully convinc'd 'tis only 
 the infpiration of the Almighty, that teaches man effec- 
 tually to profit. 
 
 O fpeak ! and at tbe harmony 
 
 Of thy commanding voice,. 
 My foul Jhall kindle into life, 
 
 And breathe immortal joys. 
 
 The foft infinuating calls 
 
 Of fenfe will all be droiurfd 
 In the fuptrior excellence 
 
 Of that celejlial Jound* 
 
 With deep attention h / I ft and, 
 
 Be the creation ftilly. 
 While Jilently I wait to hear 
 
 The diftates of thy 'will. 
 
 * Triendjbip in death. 
 
 O fpeak t
 
 230 LETTER S. 
 
 O fpeak ! for nuko can teach like thee 
 
 The uninftrutted mind ? 
 Whom tbou ivilt condefcend to teachy. 
 
 Shall heavenly ivifdcm find. 
 
 LADY- from the firft reading was pofitive 
 the Letters were mine, but I make no ferious reply, f 
 hive not fent one prefent as the author,, and as I make 
 tto confeflion, but to three or four perfons to whom I 
 Could not help it, I ftill entertain fome faint hopes, and 
 fmcerely defire, I may not be known. I refolve to guard 
 againft denying die truth ; however I have no obligation" 
 to difclofe the fecret, but rather fay nothing. But I 
 make a very awkward bufinefs of it, when afk'd, to- 
 avoid telling a lye, or owning the truth. By Mrs. 
 's letters, I fancy fhe thinks you the author : 
 You need neither own, nor deny any thing, but refufe' 
 to anfwer. Dr. Young, I flatter myfelf, is ia perfecl ig- 
 norance. I could wifh I had trufted nobody but you in. 
 the publication. But fuch a reflection is inconfiftent with 
 my principles. I believe the minuteft circumftances (ex- 
 cept fins) are ordain'd by him, by whom the leaft fpar- 
 row is not forgotten, nor the hairs of our head un-num- 
 bred. 
 
 T WOULD not entertain fo ill an opinion of human 
 nature (however atheiffe and free-thinkers have degraded 
 it) as to believe it impoffible to reach a difinterefted love 
 and benevolence to mankind. But I have not the va- 
 nity to pretend to the heights of charity, and that I had 
 no other motive in writing the Letters; yet 'twas, I 
 think, my principal view, remote from any hopes of 
 intereft or perfonal reputation. It would indeed have 
 been fome -little entertainment to me, to hear myfelf 
 freely cenfur'd or approv'd, without any other concern 
 than that of an author in mafquerade. However (if I 
 am detected) at worft, I hope I cannot be accused of va- 
 nity,
 
 LETTERS. 231 
 
 nity, as I have never affunTd the title of an author, nor 
 prefuirfd to fpeak, but in a perfonated character. 
 
 IF you fend one to Mr. , let it be from your- 
 
 felf, and tell him nobody owns the book, and the author 
 Jias no exigence. 
 
 J AM with all imaginable fincerity 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXLVIL 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 THE RE cannot be a more proper name for all the 
 enjoyments of this world, than that of fhadows : 
 Thus they fly away, and leave no traces behind them ; 
 or if they leave any, perhaps, 'tis guilt and regret,, at 
 the reflexion on time and advantages loft and un-im- 
 
 prov'd. However I am highly indebted to Lady , 
 
 who was fo obliging to come and ftay here two nights. 
 She filTd the flying moments with wit and good- humour, 
 
 and laying afide the Countefs of , and all 
 
 manner of ceremony, gave us no anxiety or trouble, 
 but feem'd to have a perfect relifh of the eafe and tran- 
 quility of low life. I have juft receiv'd a letter, that fhe 
 is got well to Marlborough, and fays fhe will raife her 
 hearths and windows, to make her houfe look like 
 mine. 
 
 BUT in all enjoyments, your danger hangs like the 
 weight of death on my foul. All my earthly happinefs 
 feems in fufpence by the uncertainty of your health. I 
 cannot exprefs the tendernefs of my affection for you,
 
 232 LETTERS. 
 
 'tis the ftrongeft engagement my heart feels to the worlcf. 
 O may that fovereign Power who has the fprings of na- 
 ture in his hands, fpare your life, and crown it with 
 diftinguim'd favours ! 
 
 BUT however that is determin'd, fome of the watches 
 of this night have been employ'd to beg that your evi- 
 dences for immortal happinefs may be clear and um- 
 queftion'd, that the God of all confolation would make 
 his goodnefs pafs before you, and on this fide heaven, 
 let out one ray of that glory, which (I fpeak it with full 
 affurance) will open in all its fplendor on you forever; 
 when you have once pafs'd the gloomy (hades of death. 
 O may you be refrefh'd, here below, with the foretaftes 
 ef thofe rivers of pleafure, of which you will be fwal- 
 low'd up, in the region of perpetual joy ! 
 
 I HAVE more reafon to fear the great event than you 
 can have, and yet m^ hopes are often fupported by fuch 
 thoughts as thefe, to which J know you will fincerely. 
 aflent. 
 
 ' LET me ferve my God, tho' that fervice fhould 
 
 * never find a reward. Let me love thee, if that love' 
 ' fhould never meet a return. Let me employ my life' 
 ' for thy glory, tho' I am forgotten forever. I would 
 ' fpend my hours of mortal life with thee, if I muft 
 ' part with thee, in that to come. If I mould never 
 ' fee the open glory of thy face in heaven, I will catch 
 ' every glimmering ray that difcovers thee on earth. 
 
 * Shouldft thou exclude me from the general aflembly of 
 
 the church of the firft-born above, yet I will love the 
 ' habitation of thy holinefs here, and frequent the place 
 
 where thy honour dwells.' 
 
 How much do I value your prayers to prepare me 
 for that folemn part which I may be Toon call'd to aft ! 
 It is a great fatisfaftion to my mind, to imagine that 
 while I have been a&ing.bleiSngs at the throne of mercy 
 
 for
 
 LETTERS. 233 
 
 for you, perhaps, at the fame inftant, you have been 
 imploring the Almighty for me, that we may meet in 
 the feats of immortal life and pleafure above, and tell to 
 liftening angels the wonders of redeeming grace to worth - 
 lefi, fmful mortals : The charming relation will never 
 end, and the miracles of boundlefs clemency be forever 
 furprizing and new. 
 
 Here is my triumph, here my hopes run high ; 
 They knoiv no bound, but infinitely free, 
 Grafp all a bleji eternity contains. 
 
 ASSURE yourfelf I mail be to the laft moments of 
 my life, and beyond mortality, 
 
 Your, &c. 
 
 LETTER CXLVIII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 9 ^"| "^ I S a great fatisfaftion to me, to find your life 
 J[ is ftill continu'd, and that there are fome frni- 
 ling hopes of your recovery to your former degree of 
 health. Is any thing difficult to the almighty Power ? 
 I would fain flatter myfelf with the happinefs of feeing 
 you once more, on this fide the ftars. And yet there 
 feems fomething impious in fuch a defire : For while I 
 am perfuaded it would be infinitely for your own ad- 
 vantage, to get free from corruption and mortality,, 
 why mould I envy you a Hate of complete felicity, if 
 indulgent Heaven mould call you away early from thefe 
 regions of fin and diforder ? For I make no queftion 
 but death will conduct you fafely to the poffeffion of 
 
 immortal
 
 234 LETTERS. 
 
 immortal joys : And I am not without fome ferene e's ; - 
 peclations myfelf, and am aim oft aflur'd we mail meet 
 in the triumph of cekltial bleffednefs and perfection in 
 the next world : 
 
 Where pleafure rolls its living flood, 
 From fin and drofs refitid. 
 
 Dr. WATTS, 
 
 IF Heaven mould reftore you to the prayers of your 
 friends, and my, perhaps, too importunate defires, I 
 need not fay, you would be welcome as the light of the 
 fun to one who had long loft it r If not, may the light 
 of his countenance, whole loving- kindnefs is better than 
 life, mine with unclouded glories on your foul, and fcat- 
 ter the mades before you. 
 
 I PO V RGOT to tell you, Lady Scudamore died witfe 
 great compofure : And tho 1 me was feiz'd in fuch a 
 crifis of affairs, as would have engag r d a mind lefff pious 
 than hers, me was intirely refign'd and calm ; having 
 nothing to do, but to give up her foul to the hands of 
 that Redeemer whofe name (he had eonfefs'd and ador'd. 
 Let me die the death of the righteous, and let rny laft 
 end be like many of my pious friends, whofe exit has 
 been celeftial peace ! 
 
 ADIEU, may the almighty God be your portion ? 
 
 You wiH excufe the fhort unftudy'd foliloquy, I havf 
 mclos'd. 
 
 To him that lov'd, and wam'd me in his blood, 
 Who with that precious ranfom bought my foul,, 
 My captive foul, from guilt, from death and hell ;. 
 From me, and all the favoured race of man, 
 From ev'ry tribe and tongue on earth redeem'd, 
 To him be praife, dominion glory, pow'r ! 
 
 O WHET*
 
 LETTERS. 235 
 
 O WHCT fhall I begin the endlefs fong, 
 Th' immortal ftrain, and to the golden harps 
 Of angels fet the bleft Redeemer's name ? 
 When fliall I celebrate the boundlefs praife 
 Of everlafting love ? Survey the lengths, 
 The dazzling heights, the wide-extended breadths, 
 And ftill unfathom'd depths of grace divine ? 
 When {hall I with immortal rapture gaze 
 On God's unclouded face ? See the bright fmile 
 Of uncreated, ever-blooming beauty, 
 The fair original of all the charms 
 That here below fubdu'd my captive fenfe I 
 O when (hall I in peace behold thy face, 
 That face, whofe rays fhall diffipate the cloud 
 Of mortal guilt and grief? O hafte away, 
 Thou blifsful period ! fly, ye lagging hours I 
 Impatience racks my foul at your delay. 
 
 LETTER CXLIX. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 YO U muft give me leave, my dear friend, to in- 
 dulge myfelf in the pleafure of writing to you-, 
 fince I do it without the leaft expectation of a return; 
 and indeed I would deny myfelf this fatisfa&ion, if I 
 thought it would be troublefome to you. 
 
 YOUR long filence and confinement make me look dn 
 you like an inhabitant of fome fuperior region, and I 
 
 want
 
 236 LETTERS. 
 
 want to talk to you in the language of immortality. BuC 
 fmce that cannot be, I muft be content to tell you in a 
 human dialedl, how much fatisfaclion I mould promife 
 myfelf in your converfation, if it was the will of Heaven 
 to reftore you to health : The vifit of feme gentle 
 celeftial inhabitant would not be more welcome. Indeed 
 I can't but flatter myfelf with profpedls of diftant hap- 
 pinefs, after fo many inftances of the vanity of human 
 hopes : And yet 'tis with fome caution that I renew the 
 pleafing expectation of your perfect recovery, and that 
 your health will be enough confirm'd, to fuffer you once 
 more to fpend a fummer in the country, if Heaven con- 
 tinues my life, which I hope will find a period long be- 
 fore you remove to the fkies. 'Tis a pleafure to me to 
 imagine, I {hall greet you a new-come ftranger to the 
 immaterial worlds, whofe wonders I fhall be well ac- 
 quainted with, before you make your nrit appearance 
 there. 
 
 BUT oh! you will there find no greater inftance of 
 the power of almighty grace and clemency, thaawilS 
 appear in my falvation. 
 
 f Great is thy mercy, and my tongue 
 
 Shall its rich wonders tell ; 
 For thou baft fa^d my Jinking foul 
 From the Liu deaths of hell. 
 
 Dr. WATTS, 
 
 How often do I .look back on the fnares I haver 
 cfcap'd, and thro 1 all the changes of my life fee the 
 dazzling memorials of providential, goodnefs, and the 
 humbling inftances of my own guilt ! and yet with its 
 higheft aggravations, I hope my pardon and a fult re- 
 miflion is feal'd in heav'n ; and there are moments, in 
 which (againft all the contradiction of hell) I dare at- 
 teft, that in the Lord my Redeemer I have righteoufnefs 
 und ftrength. 
 
 IT
 
 LETTERS. 237 
 
 IT is not poffible for me to defer ibe what friendly 
 anguiih my foul feels for you : Nothing relieves thofe 
 cares but the profpeft of meeting you in an happy im- 
 mortality ; and be aflur'd, that next to my own ialva- 
 tion, the molt ardent wiihes I can make to Heaven, will 
 be for your happinefs. Adieu, and may you enjoy the 
 light of his countenance, in whofe prefence is fulnefs of 
 joy and pleafures forevermore. May the God of your 
 pious anceftors blefs you, and make your ways profpe- 
 roas. May your hopes of glory brighten into the clear- 
 ell evidence, and fupport you with unutterable confola- 
 tions. 
 
 LETTER CL. 
 
 To the Rev. Mr. THO. AMORY. 
 
 Dec. 10. 
 
 IT would be putting you on an exploit of perfect 
 knight errantry, to defire you to take a journey 
 hither, in this urspleafant feafon. You would find occa- 
 iion to equip yourfelf with Mambrmo\ helmet, to defend 
 your head from the inclemency of the wintry fkies. As 
 for Mr. Grove, if he fhould come on victorious over 
 all the giants and inchanted caftles on the road ; if it 
 fhould happen to fnow while he was here, he would 
 fancy himfelf in Lapland, and abhor this place forever. 
 I am fo fincerely pleas'd with Mr. Grove's company, 
 that I would never defire it, 'till I thought every cir- 
 cumftance would concur to pleafe the delicacy of his 
 imagination, on which I know the weather has feme in- 
 fluence. I would never invite him, but when the fun 
 iiniles on the gay creation, 
 
 Rejioru
 
 238 LETTERS. 
 
 Reftores their leafy honours ta the 'woods, 
 Floors to the banks, and freedom to the foods ; 
 While birds on branches perch' d, or on the <iuing t 
 dt nature* s joyful rejloration Jing. 
 
 For this, and two or three other wife reafons, I am 
 willing to deny myfelf the happinefs of your company 
 '.till a month or two after Chri/imas. 
 
 I FIND I have your leave to make my exit, and com- 
 mence immortality as foon as I pleafe, on condition I'll 
 ftudy divinity in the fields of light, and come back 
 again to fright people out of their wits, and anfwer 
 cafes of confcience : But I am afraid my improvements 
 will not be great this way. I am for the myrtle fhades 
 and rofy bowers ; and if a filver lute and a celeftial 
 fong will entertain you, I'll certainly oblige you, if it 
 is in my power, with fuch melting ftrains as angels fmg 
 to dying faints, when they would give them a tafte of 
 celeftial joys : 
 
 Such notes as echo thro* the blifsful groves, 
 When they describe their otvn immortal loves. 
 
 ^LETTER CLI. 
 
 70 the fame. 
 SIR, 
 
 IHAVE been reading all this morning or* the fun, 
 and ftars, and comets ; but I can't be fo vain to tell 
 you I underitood perfectly one line that I read: Yet 
 the fubjedl has given a fort of elevatioa.to my thoughts, 
 i and
 
 LETTERS. 239 
 
 and put them in fuch a kind of dazzling confufion, that 
 I'm afraid you'll wifh I had writ to you, when my ge- 
 nius had been lefs exalted, and more turn'd to earthly ob- 
 jects. But you may be out of pain, for I find converfing 
 with mortal things has a pernicious influence ; I am al- 
 ready defcended, and have bid the Harry regions adieu. 
 Without raillery, 'tis too true, that the mind does not 
 long keep its heavenly, which is, indeed, its proper fi- 
 tuation, and where alone it can find reft. 
 
 I SPENT a few days, fmce you was here, at Longleate ; 
 but tho' the gardens were in their perfeft order and 
 beauty, and look'd like paradife reftor'd, I found greater 
 charms in obfcurity and iblitude ; which I think I ihould 
 prefer to a public life, if 'twas on no other view than 
 as a fan&uary from the cenfure of the world, and to 
 be difingag'd from its interefts and paflions. An unen- 
 vy'd retirement, without {landing a competitor for any 
 of the advantages that the reft of mankind purfue, 
 
 feems to be the neareft way to peace and happinefs. 
 
 Like Sancbo, in Dcx John, I can't reafon long without 
 interruption. 
 
 I am t &c. 
 
 IK, 
 
 LETTER CLII. 
 
 3T0 the fame. 
 
 YOU have addreft me with as much folemnity, as 
 if I had been in holy orders. You certainly 
 fanc y 'd )0urfelf writing to Mrs. Drummond-, while you 
 know I am fo far from afluming thofe fuperior airs, 
 that I have hardly the coafidence to put myfelf in the 
 
 clafs
 
 240 LETTERS. 
 
 ckfs of reafonable creatures. All the pre-eminence I 
 pretend to, is that I .came into the world before you j 
 and, according to the propriety of time and action, hope 
 to leave it firft, and commence the dignity of a ce- 
 leftial fpirit ; while you are left below, a Ibber plodding 
 mortal, blefling yourfelf in the felicity of a prudent 
 wife, and a houfe full of pretty, tractable children. 
 
 YOUR verfes contain excellent rules for happinefs ; 
 but you find they had not their juft effect on your fair 
 difciple. One would really think mankind under fome 
 fatal inchantment, that they are refolv'd never to be 
 happy by rule or method ; while, as Mr. Grove fays, 
 
 n 'warns us of the dang rout road y 
 And would our jieps recall ; 
 But <we mujt tread, where crouds have trod, 
 And where they fell, we fall. 
 
 Mr. Pope fays juftly enough, in his letters, that half the 
 things that employ our heads deferve not the name of 
 thoughts ; they are rather flronger dreams, impreffions' 
 on the imagination. - But I have no inclination to be 
 Severe on human nature, and have ftill the modefty to 
 put myfelf in the loweft rank among intellectual be- 
 ings, and pretend to no right to cenfure or dictate. 
 
 I A M impatient to fee your fermon ; the * title has 
 already byals'd me in its favour. I always have thought 
 you warm in the caufe of Chriftianity ; and for your 
 peculiar notions, I am fo far from blaming your franknefs 
 and fmcerity, that it appears to me a beauty in your 
 character. 
 
 * Chrift the Light of the World: Or, the principal 
 Improvements made in Religion by Chriftianity. A Ser- 
 mon preach 'd at Exon, Sept. n, 1735. 
 
 JBEFOR2
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 241 
 
 BEFORE I had finifh'd my letter, your fermon came 
 to my hands ; which I have read with great fatisfaftion ; 
 and from an implicit believer, it has half made me a 
 reafonable one ; which you will think, is a furprifing at- 
 tainment for 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER CLIII. 
 
 I WOULD fain perfuade you, and flatter myfelf, that 
 my inclinations to folitude are not the effedl of any 
 four aufterity, or vain ambition of being thought wifer 
 or better than other people. I afpire to no character 
 above that of a reafonable creature ; and am content to 
 keep on a level with other indolent mortals, who are 
 willing to be quiet and happy, on the moil eafy terms 
 they can find. 
 
 'Tis impoffible for me to keep my mind in a proper 
 fttuation in the noife and hurry of public diverfions. A 
 train of impertinent images, a fucceffion of follies, runs 
 thro' my imagination. My head is a perfect toy-mop, 
 a Raree-jbenv j nor can I poffibly banilh from my me- 
 mory a feries of troublefome ideas of things to which I 
 am wholly indifferent whether they ever had an exift- 
 ence. But 'till the impreffion is a little effac'd by re- 
 trrement, thefe unfeafonable vanities will intrude on my 
 public and private devotions. 
 
 FRECJJJENTING aflemblies of pleafure would not be 
 
 the way, as you imagine, to reconcile me to a crowd, 
 
 VOL. II. M unlefs
 
 242 LETTERS. 
 
 unlefs I could find more fincerity praftis'd there. People 
 feem, indeed, to meet with an obliging defign to pleafe 
 and entertain one another, and you would think the 
 whole world in a league of friendftiip and beneficent of- 
 fices ; but as foon as ever they are parted, the difguife 
 falls off, and the latent malignity breaks out in flander 
 or ridicule. Whatever pains has been taken by every 
 fmgle perfon to recommend themfelves by drefs, beha- 
 viour, or wit, not one mortal comes away fatisfy'd with 
 any thing but himfelf. One has been too pert, another 
 too fullen ; fome are awkward, others hideous j fome 
 too old, and others too young ; and nothing in nature 
 what it mould be ; not a beauty or blemilh, that efcapes 
 cenfure : $0 that you would think mankind born in a 
 Hate of hoftility with one another, and that the end of 
 thofe public affemblies was to pry into the faults, and 
 expofe the defects 6f their own fpecies. 
 
 MY letter is of a decent length. 
 
 j.,. 
 
 MUM. 
 
 LETTER CLIV. 
 
 fo Mrs. ARABELLA MARROW. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 I FIND 'tis a hard thing for people that are quite out 
 of the world, to converfe with thofe that are in it. 
 As I am cut off from the ways of the living, and feem 
 to exift in the ftate of departed Ipirits, I know not how 
 to entertain my furviving friends. News from the dead, 
 I fancy, would not be very agreeable to many of them; 
 efpecially to thofe that are very well at eafe in a ftate 
 
 of
 
 LETTERS. 243 
 
 of mortality, and have all the gay part of life before 
 them. But ah ! Madam, how foon will the foft deluding 
 vifion fly ! how fwiftly will the circling years roll on, 
 and convince you of the vanity of all your expectations 
 from this falfe world ! You'll think I am very well at 
 leifure, to utter thefe wife maxims : I don't expeft you 
 to believe me, but upon your own experience. 
 
 I THINK myfelf very happy, that I have writ any 
 thing capable of infpiring fuch noble fentiments as thofe 
 of devotion muft be, in a mind form'd like Mrs. Knighttys. 
 I find, Madam, you are a little piqu'd, that I mould 
 think you have no relifli, but pour les poefies tendres & ga- 
 lantes. Why, to tell you the truth, Madam, I fancy 
 people are never wife or devout in any remarkable de- 
 gree, 'till they are married; and when once you are 
 entered into that fober folemn ftate, I {hall have the 
 fame charity for you, that I have for other people under 
 thofe grave circumftances. 
 
 As for all the fine things you fay of my wit and 
 merit, take it for granted I fubfcribe to them all, and 
 give my full affent to them, and every thing elfe that 
 can be faid to my advantage. I am extremely fenfible 
 what a lofs my retreat is to the world, and how much 
 a perfon of my confequence mull be mifs'd in it. I am 
 afraid the grafs will cover the circle in Hyde-park, if I 
 fhoukl not make my appearance there ; and if a tender 
 defpair had not turn'd me favage, I mould certainly 
 have more companion for mankind, than to hide fo 
 much merit in the country fhades. But wherever I am, 
 fuch worth as yours will ftill poflefs the efteem of 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 Ma LETTER
 
 LETTER CLV. 
 To the fame. 
 
 MY .paft life begins to appear like a dream to me. 
 'Tis fo long fince I faw any of my friends, that 
 3ft fancy I never had any thing but a vifionary 
 fcene of happinefs ; and I think of Mrs. Arabella Mar- 
 row only as an agreeable phantom, that once or twice 
 appear'd to me between fleeping and waking, and (as 
 the vifits of angels are fhort) the gay delufion fmil'd, 
 and vanifh'd forever from my fight. 
 
 BUT if you are really an inhabitant of this world, I 
 believe, by this time, you are pretty well tir'd of the 
 town, and I expeft in your next, an account of your 
 retreat. There is fo little variety in life, and the repe- 
 tition is fo dull, that I am always pitying people that 
 liave a long fcene to aft, and envying thole that in a 
 few years finifh their part, and retire. 
 
 WHEN I writ to you laft, I had refolv'd to go to 
 Jlath ; but after I had nicely balanced the pleafure and 
 the pain, I refolv'd to bid my agreeable friends adieo, 
 and break my engagements with every earthly thing. In 
 this humour I can't but repeat with conftant pleafare the 
 foliloquy 'of Ahibiades, in the Spectator ; and then, me- 
 ihinks, my foul acquires a fort of felf-fufficiency and in- 
 4ependence. 
 
 I'LL juft invoke the mufes to touch the lyre in blank 
 verfe, and leave you to folace yourfelf at Piquet or 
 Ombre. 
 
 Appear t ye fairejl blandifhments of fenfe, 
 With all your boafted cbarmt, at once ctifplay 
 What e'er tbe fun's bright eye t in all hit round, 
 
 Since
 
 LETTERS. 245 
 
 Since firft be journey' d thro'' the flies, has feen : 
 Ye beauties turned to dull, ye triumphs lojl 
 In long oblivion, put on airy forms , 
 And in fantajiic grandeur nonu appear y 
 That I, at once, may all your charms defpife, 
 
 You find I am got above the elouds, and fo I leave 
 you. I hope, from this elevation, you'll take it as a 
 great favour, if 1 fubfcribe myfelf 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 LETTER CLVL 
 
 To the fame. 
 MADAM, 
 
 IHopE this letter will find you in fome interval of 
 perfedl leifure, or elfe I cannot expeft your forgive-- 
 nefs for fo much wilful and deliberate impertinence. My 
 thoughts are in fuch a romantic fituation in this place, 
 that I am half convinc'd that every thing I fee here is 
 inchantment. I never venture out of my own apart- 
 ment, with any fecurity of returning to it again, but 
 Jofe myfclf in verdant labyrinths and flowery, mazes j 
 and am often reduc'd to inquire of the firft intelligent 
 
 being that I meet, which is the way into my Lord '9 
 
 houfe. But 'tis my confolation, that this gay confufion 
 of mind is not peculiar to myfelf; for I can affure you, 
 there are not two people in the family that are yet 
 agreed to call any one thing, befides the mount, by the 
 fame name. What one reafonable creature thinks fit to 
 call a parterre, another, with a true poetical licence, 
 M 3 calk
 
 246 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 calls a wfldernefs 5 that which one, without the leaft he- 
 fitarion, terms a green and open fquare, another, with 
 full aflurance, affirms to be a clofe impenetrable fhade, 
 a retreat from the noon-day fun. Amidft this confufion 
 of languages, 'tis a great delight to me, to find every 
 body in as vifionary a difpofition as myfelf. Whether 
 we are got into fairy land, or if 'tis the nature of this 
 climate that has lull'd us all into a golden dream, is very 
 uncertain ; but for my part, I am fo pleas'd with the 
 place and company, that I am willing to indulge the 
 charming madnefs, without envying the moft fedate 
 reafoner on earth. But whether you'll take my word 
 or not, 'tis certain I am in my right fenfes, when J 
 fubfcribe myfelf 
 
 Tour, &C. 
 
 LETTER CLVIL 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 I THINK myfelf very happy in your good opinion ; 
 but tho* I do the utmoft juftice to my own merit, 
 
 I can't flatter myfelf that 1 deferve your efteem 
 
 This fentence looks as if it was borrow'd out of the 
 Academy of Compliments ; but, without vanity, I can af- 
 fure you 'tis my own. 
 
 THE news of your illnefs is a very fenfible afflidlion 
 to me j I find my letters are not the only Memento's 
 you have of mortality. With regard to yourfelf, I think 
 it could be no great difadvantage to you, to quit the 
 world fo early. To die in the pride of life, and in all 
 
 the
 
 LETTERS. 247 
 
 the fplendor of youthful virtue, has fomething more 
 glorious in it, than to languifh out the dregs of life, 
 in the exercife of no virtue but patience. But as you 
 have all the gay part of life before you, and have 
 fome foft engagement to this world, I am not fur- 
 priz'd at the reluctance you find to make fuch an early 
 
 You would think me too refign f d in parting with my 
 friends, if I fhould tell you, it is not worth your while 
 to make a farther trial of any earthly enjoyment : How- 
 ever your own experience will be the ftrongeft convic- 
 tion, and a few circling years will give yon a full de- 
 monftration of the vanity of all your gay expeditions 
 from this faife world. Indeed, I would have you dif- 
 appointed, and can't wifh you perfectly happy and at 
 reft here ; not from any ill-will or malignity in my tem- 
 per, but for fear it mould flop your purfuit after more 
 Jailing and fuperior joys. 
 
 IF I appear more ftoical than I ought on this occafion^ 
 'tis becaufe I apprehend you are in no danger j and I 
 hope to leave you long behind me, poffefs'd of as much 
 happinefs as dreams and fhadows can give you. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 LETTER CLVIII. 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 I AM extremely oblig'd to you, for the account of 
 your travels. A view of thofe fine profpecls in 
 your defcription, is much more agreeable to my tem- 
 M 4 per,
 
 248 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 per, than being at the pains of feeing them any other 
 way; while I am perfuaded your images of them are 
 more beautiful and entertaining than the things you de- 
 fcribe. 
 
 MY Lady has given me an account of Mr. 
 
 -s death. She (peaks of it in a manner that 
 gives me the higheft efteem for her virtue, and the hu- 
 manity of her temper : To make fuch juft refledlions 
 on life and its vanities, in the pride of youth, and gay- 
 cit circumllance of fortune, is very uncommon. But 
 nothing gives me a greater opinion of her wit, and 
 the elegance of her tafte, than the value {he has for 
 your converfation. You know I am very fincere ; as I 
 have no dependence, I am paft all ceremony with the 
 world. Since Mr. Rome's death, I have had neither 
 hopes nor fears ; but am in a ftate of abfolute indiffe- 
 rence with regard to the events of this world. I have 
 cafe and plenty to the extent of my wihes, and can 
 form no defires but what my father's indulgence would, 
 procure ; and I have nothing to afk of Heave.n beyond 
 the good old man's life. The perfect fon&ity of hia 
 characler, with the benevolence of his temper, makes 
 him a refuge to the widow and fatherlefs. The people- 
 follow him with their bleffings and prayers, when he 
 goes abroad ; which he feldom does, but with a defign 
 to reconcile fome difference, or to right the injured 
 and opprefs'd. The reft of his hours are intirely {pent 
 in his private devotion,, or books, which are his only, 
 diverfions. But I forget myfelf, and acknowledge, it 
 would be more a-propos to entertain you with the charms 
 of fome handfome young fellow, or the drefs and equi- 
 page of a beau, than with the moral virtues and tem- 
 perance of hermits and philofophers. 
 
 LADY . tells me you are in a constant hurry 
 
 of company in War<vAckJhire. I fuppofe you do not 
 know that you deferve my compaflion ; bat I can't help 
 bellowing it upon. you. With all the graces of your. 
 
 perfon,.
 
 LETTER S. 249 
 
 perfon, the charms of your wit and addrds, or all be- 
 fides that mortality can boaft, I would not be in your 
 qircumftances. O rather 
 
 Bear me, fame god, to Haemus* dewy top, 
 
 or to mount Atlas, or to the wilds of Africa, or any 
 other favage wildernefs on earth ! O bear me 
 
 Far from the noify follies of the great, 
 
 'The tirefome farce of ce re momous ft ate, 
 
 far from the thoughtlefs crowd, *who laugh, and play, "\ 
 
 And dance, and Jing, impertinently gay, > 
 
 Their Jbort, inejiimable hours a<way / J 
 
 IN the humour I am now indulging, you will cer- 
 tainly think a defart the moft proper place for 
 
 Your, &c. 
 
 LETTER CLIX. 
 
 To Mrs. ARABELLA MARROW. 
 
 To le delivered to tier after my deceafe. 
 
 HOW lafting are the ties of reafon and virtue! f 
 expeft to breathe but a few days longer, or at 
 utmoft, but a few weeks, and in dying, give you this 
 teftimony of my friendfhip : A friendship, that I am not 
 afiiam'd to carry with me into the facred regions of 
 light and love. Had my affe&ion been founded on any 
 M thing
 
 2jo LETTERS. 
 
 thing but real merit, it muft have expirM, at a time 
 ^Vhen. all other advantages are infignificant. I find an 
 uncommon pleafure in employing fome of the laft mo- 
 ments of my life in converting with a perfon of your 
 juft fentiments. I find a more than ordinary good-will 
 and tendernefs for my acquaintance from whom I am 
 now parting : The gentle paffions of my foul are all 
 awaken'd, and feem prepar'd for the peaceful regions 
 to which I am now going. I have had fo many fymp- 
 toms of an apoplexy of late, that I verily believe this 
 mortal frame is finking, and the duft is returning to 
 duft from whence it came : But methinks I feel the no- 
 bler powers of my foul kkdling into life and immor- 
 tality. 
 
 Sure there's a life within, that reigns 
 O^er the dull current of- my veins ; 
 I feel the inward pnlfe beat high 
 With vigorous immortality. 
 The foul "'tis of the heavenly kind, 
 Nor formed of Jire, or earth, or wind} 
 From all the laws of matter free. 
 From all we feel, and all we fee, 
 Sheftands eternally dijlinQ, and muft forever be. 
 
 LETTER
 
 251 
 
 LETTER CLX. 
 
 70 Mrs. : . 
 
 MADAM, 
 
 MY fatisfaftions in this world are confin'd to very 
 narrow limits j and as your letters and effays are 
 among thofe few entertainments, I can't but complain, 
 that you will not let me fee the paper you, promis'd to 
 fend. 
 
 THE melancholy account you gave in yourlaft letter, 
 of the ill ftate of your health, gives me a great folici- 
 tude for you ; tho' I am convinced it yields you a ferene 
 and pleafant profpecl:. I never recall your retir'd con- 
 
 verfation, in fome-' of the charming walks at , 
 
 without fancying myfelf, in that moment, wifer and hap- 
 pier than before ; but I dare not promife myfelf a re- 
 turn of thofe fatisfafHons, 'till we meet in the ever- 
 blooming fields of paradife. 
 
 The blifsfid plains, 
 
 Where pleafure in its gayeft triumph reigns. 
 Joys ever-young, unmix" d with pain or fear, 
 Fill the wide circle of tV eternal year. 
 Stern winter fmiles on that aufpicious clime, 
 The fields are florid nuith unfading prime. 
 From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow, 
 Mold the round hail, or fake the feeey fnow : 
 Sutfrom the breezy deep the bleft inhale 
 The fragrant murmurs of the lueftern gale. 
 The firmament with living fylendors g/oivs t 
 And on immortal thrones the blejl repofe. 
 
 This dfefcription I borrowed from Mr. Pope; and this 
 gay fcherne is, I believe, fuitcd to your talte, tho' I am 
 
 afraid
 
 2$2 LETTERS. 
 
 afraid it would not be at all agreeable to the reverend 
 
 Mr. 's fagacity ; to whom I beg you will give 
 
 my fervice. I confefs, thefe flowery fcenes feem to be 
 the leaft circumftances of immortal blifs : But in what 
 its greatcft elevation conMs, never enter'd into the heart 
 ef man to conceive. 
 
 Make hafle r ye lingering hours t 
 To bring the promised j.oy ! 
 
 THERE is no fpell confines me to this place, but 
 the brevity of human life ; which would have made me. 
 content, on whatever fpot of earth deftiny had dropt 
 me. I could never have been plac'd in a more vacant 
 fituation, without any thing to pleafe, or moleft me ; 
 which in the conclufion of life is a great advantage. My 
 principal concern is now, that I may pafs the fatal dark- 
 nefs without confternation. 
 
 I AM ignorant whether heavenly, or earthly love is at 
 prefent your governing paflion ; if the laft, this grave 
 fubjeft may perhaps come unfeafonably, and the long 
 life of the happy antediluvians might have been a more 
 agreeable theme. 
 
 v 1 am, &c. 
 
 LETTER CLXL 
 
 & Mrs. 
 
 YOU obferve very juflly, religion does inftrudl 
 mankind to acl: a becoming part in every period 
 ef hunijan life ; but ftill piety looks like a retreat for 
 
 declining
 
 LETTERS. 253 
 
 declining years, and people feem to be reduc'd to It,, 
 as a fanftuary ; goodnefs then has an air of neceffity, 
 and does not appear half fo free and voluntary, as in 
 the bloom of life. And this, Madam, is the happy fea- 
 fon you have chofen to. recommend the facred dilates 
 of Chriftianity, while the fpirit and gracefulnefs of youth 
 fets off every virtue. Be it eafy or fevere, 'tis ftill be- 
 coming, and attracts the fpectator's love and imitation ; 
 it ftrikes the fenfes as well as the foul. The heavenly 
 flame mingles with the luftre of the eyes, and makes 
 itfelf vifible hi the vivacity of a youthful face. The 
 fandtity of thought reveals itfelf in the modeft afpecl, 
 the guiltlefs and unaffefted fmile. The mind, confcious 
 of nothing but good- will and gentle difpofitions, gives 
 the fignal of its beneficence by a thoufand namelefe 
 graces peculiar to the advantage of youth and bloom- 
 ing life. 
 
 I HAVE made your compliments to Mrs. 
 and obey'd your commands, in recommending Bifhop 
 Hopkins' 1 ^ fermons to her j but to no more purpofe,. than 
 if I had perfuaded her to perufe a treatife of naviga- 
 tion. She thinks it a greater toil to read twenty fer- 
 mons, than Alexander would have had to conquer twenty 
 worlds, if he had known \jrhere to find them. A folio 
 of divinity is certainly a dead weight in a fine lady's 
 hands, and much more heavy and unmanageable than 
 , er any other romance of the fame bulk. 
 
 lam, &c. 
 
 LETTER
 
 254 
 
 LETTER CLXII. 
 
 <To Mr. . 
 
 SIR, 
 
 YOU are too partial to my writings of any kind, 
 and I am afraid my letters will foon convince 
 you how much you have deceiv'd yourfelf, in the value 
 you feem to fet on my correfpondence. My way of 
 life is fo retir'd, that I am ignorant of every thing that 
 paffes in the bufy world, and can inform my friends of 
 no events nor changes, but what occur in the rural fcenes 
 and the variety of nature. If I live 'till December, I 
 may be able to inform you that the waters are turn'd to 
 ice ; or in April, that the ground is cover'd with cow- 
 flips and daifies : But I am not pofitive that this im- 
 portant intelligence will very much improve or divert 
 you. 
 
 PERSONS of the greateft merit are generally moft 
 diffident of themfelves. There can be no other reafon 
 for your anxiety in writing to me. Criticifra is not my 
 talent, nor inclination ; and I am pleas'd that you re- 
 member any part of my converfation, that had a ten- 
 dency to clear me from the imputation of fuch a difagree- 
 able character. The beauties of temper and action in 
 human life, delight and charm me ; while its blemimes 
 give me a very mortifying profpeft, efpecially when I 
 confider myfelf liable to the fame follies. 
 
 YOUR commands to me to write a long letter are 
 very obliging j but 'tis a happinefs for you, as well as 
 the reft of my correfpondents, that my impertinence is 
 limited by the fize of my paper to pretty narrow bounds ;. 
 and that 'tis as great a fatigue to me to write a long let- 
 ter, as it would be to you to read it. 
 
 I am, &e. 
 j 
 i LETTER
 
 LETTER CLXIIL 
 
 fo the fame. 
 SIR, 
 
 I HAVE an inclination to write to you, and yet I 
 could not have chofen a more unlucky interval. 
 My head feems perfectly vacant, without either bright 
 or gloomy ideas, void of hopes or fears. This feems 
 to be an unhappy, and is perhaps a criminal infenfibility ; 
 and I often lament it as one of the miferies of mortality, 
 that the mind can remain in fuch an indolence, in the 
 view of things of eternal confequence, unmov'd at the 
 uncertainty of future happinefs, or mifery ; while the- 
 important hour is advancing, that muft decide this grandf 
 event. 
 
 I HOPE you are,, before this, perfectly recovered from 
 your indifpofition. I have a real fympathy with Mrs. 
 ., for the concern your diforder muft give 
 
 her ; tho', with regard to yourfelf, death can have no- 
 thing threatening or gloomy ; and fuch ear\y piety as 
 yours, generally, makes a graceful exit, whatever lofs the 
 public fuffers by it. But I hope your life will long be 
 continu'd an example of virtue to an impious age. 
 
 You have favour'd me with the moft agreeable em- 
 ployment in the world, to convey your generofity to 
 
 Mr. . There is an exquifite pleafure in foften- 
 
 ing the cares and fupplying the necefiities of a perfon 
 of merit j and ftill the joy is heighten'd, in railing a 
 thought of gratitude in a pious mind to the Supreme 
 Benefactor : Nor can I help afking with a tender fur- 
 prize, why am I free and independent, while one of fa 
 much greater virtue is ftraiten'd and deprefs'd ? 
 
 But wbojkall ajk tfr Eternal Ruler, nvfy 
 Hi* favours thus unmerited are plafd ? 
 
 MRS.
 
 z$b LETTER ST, 
 
 MRS. 's invitation and care for my recep- 
 tion is exceeding obliging ; but nothing is more uncer- 
 tain than my being in town. I have fuch an averfion 
 to every thing that looks like fatigue, and find in my- 
 felf fuch a propenfity to indulge the tranquility of my 
 temper, that 'tis a thoufand to one, if I ftir from the 
 place where I am. 
 
 A THOUSAND Ueflings attend you ! 
 
 / am, &c. 
 
 LETT E R CLXIV. 
 
 2V the fame. 
 3 1 R, 
 
 JHAVE felt your affliftion with all the tendernefs and : 
 fympathy of friendfliip, and am equally affe&ed with 
 joy, at the news of Mrs. 's recovery. I hope 
 
 /he will long be a blefling to you, and a bright example 
 of virtue, in this duTolute age j where diverlion and a 
 giddy round of amufement, feem to banifh every thing 
 that is ferious or rational. But fatire is not my talent. 
 I am confcious of too many follies of my own, to fet 
 up for a cenfurer of the manners of the age. How- 
 ever, I can't fay you have ftrain'd your charity, in be- 
 Eeving that I had rather hear the muiic of the fpheres, 
 than Farinellfi Cantata's ; and that, of the two, I had 
 rather be among the angels, than crowded with the peers 
 and peereffes of Great Britain^ admiring Mrs. Porter** 
 graceful aft ion. 
 
 *Tis not a very eafy tranfition from Mrs. P offer to 
 Dr. Watts ; but I am fincerely glad of his recovery ; 
 
 but
 
 LETTER S. 257 
 
 but my tranquility will not be complete, 'till I hear 
 
 from you, that Mrs. is paft danger of a re* 
 
 lapfe, and confirmed in her health. 
 
 May blooming health fill fm'tle upon her face, 
 dnd all the joys that facred virtue gives, 
 Brighten her mind, and crown her future years! 
 
 You need not make an excufe for fending a fpeedy 
 anfwer to any of my letters ; it will always be an obli^ 
 gation. Whatever liberties I take, I would not corrupt 
 other people by the example of my indolence. 
 
 I FIND I have a little crampt my genius, for want 
 of room ; but next time you ihall have more whit* 
 paper, if nothing elfe. 
 
 LETTER CLXV. 
 
 20 the fame.. 
 SIR, 
 
 YOUR good opinion, inftead of raifing my va^ 
 nity, gives me a fecret confufion ; while I reflecl 
 how little I deferve it. Were my mind in that fuperior 
 Situation you imagine, I fhould be very happy ; but your 
 letter (in the moft polite manner) rather tells me what 
 I ought to be, than, what I really am ; and I hope I 
 Ihall make that ufe of it : Tho', as Dr. Watts fays, 
 pride, that aftive iniquity, is never at reft ; whether I 
 have to do with God or man, it befets me oa every 
 fdf, 
 
 HOWEVER agreeable a retir'd life may be to your 
 &fte, a perfon of your good fenfe and piety will be-
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 more profitable to the public by an aftive fife. Ex- 
 amples of truth and juftice are too rare, to wifli them 
 conceal'd in an idle retirement. 
 
 BE pleas'd to make my compliments to Mrs. , 
 
 and tell her, my being in 'town h uncertain ; but if I 
 am, and have power to follow my inclinations, I ihall 
 fpend fome part of my time with her: Some gentle 
 and friendly impulfe flatters me with a great deal of 
 pleafura in her conversion. But I would forbid my- 
 felf expefting any perfect enjoyment either from fociety 
 or folitude. At a dirtance, the fyfcvan fliades feem to 
 be the refidence of innocence and peace ; but in this 
 degenerate ftate, guilt and feHy will intrude on the 
 moft retir'd manner of life. And yet I moft own, if 
 there is any happinefs below the ftars, it confifts in 4 
 freedom from the hurry and cenfure of the world, where 
 the mind may devote all its bright and ferene intervals 
 to Heaven. 
 
 HOVJ happy is the holy hermit" 1 ! lot f 
 
 The world forgetting^ by the world forgot. 
 
 Eternal fun-Jhine of the Jpotlefs mind ! 
 
 Each pray'r accepted, and each wijh rejign'd^ 
 
 Dejires composed, ajfecJions ever even, 
 
 Tears that delight ' r and Jighi that waft to heaven, 
 
 O grace divine A O virtue heavenly fair / 
 
 Divine oblivion of low -thought ed care ! 
 
 Frejh-blooming hope, gay daughter of the Jky / 
 
 And faith, our early immortality ! 
 
 Enter each mild, each amicablt gueft : 
 
 Receive and wrap me in eternal reft ! 
 
 THESE lines are borrowed from Mr. Pope, and I 
 wifli I was fenfible of their energy, while I repeat 
 them ; but I am afraid thefe thoughts are rather flights 
 of poetry than devotion. 
 
 Yov
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 259 
 
 You need not excufe your want of method ; your 
 fine turn of thought, and eafy manner of expreffion, is 
 vaflly preferable to all the pedantry of rules. 
 
 lam, Sic. 
 
 LETTER CLXVL 
 
 'To the fame, 
 SIR, 
 
 I HE news your letter brought me of your fafe 
 return to your family, gave me a fincere fatif- 
 i, both on your own account, and Mrs. 's, 
 
 whom I often remember'd with anxiety and compaflion, 
 confidering how the roads were infefted with robbers. 
 I look on your fafety as the peculiar care of provi- 
 dence. 
 
 *Ti s a fort of mortification ta me, to delay writing to 
 you a few pofts j but I am unwilling you fhould com- 
 mand too much of my attention ; for after I have writ, 
 I am impatient for an anfwer. Your friendmip feems 
 to make a part of my happinefs ; but 'tis a happinefs 
 fo refin'd, that I hope it will be immortal. How- 
 ever, I muft humble your vanity fo far, as to let you 
 
 know, I am talking the fame language to Mrs. ,. 
 
 that I am dictating to you. Be pleas'd to prefent her 
 with my acknowledgments for the pleafure her fociety 
 gave me : I am perfectly charm'd with her character. 
 
 MAY Heaven aflent to your pious wifhes for me ; 
 and grant that I, the leaft of all faints, may at the lafl 
 
 fummons.
 
 260 LETTERS. . 
 
 fummons fpring triumphant from my dufty bed, and be 
 Bumber'd with the glittering affembly ! 
 
 There let ive vie with all the hoji y 
 
 In duty and in llifs -> 
 While lefe than nothing I Jhall boajt, 
 
 And vanity confefs* 
 
 Dr. WATTS. 
 
 THIS ought always to be in my view ; and if you 
 knew the natural vanity of mytemper, you would not 
 fey fo many fine things that might indulge it. How- 
 ever, I would be on my guard, and defire to make no 
 ufe of the partiality of my friends, but the intereft of 
 religion, and the glory of my Redeemer. 
 
 I return you my thanks for the fermons you fent me ; 
 they are worthy of Dr. Wattis excellent pen. I have 
 juft read the Ej/ay on Reafon ) 'tis writ by Mr. Harte, 
 and is very fine. Mr. Papers Satire on Women is more 
 mild than I expeded ; and if well us'd,, may reform the 
 fex. 
 
 I MUST bid you adieu; it will be prudence in sift 
 to manage my ftock of thought,, that you may not dif- 
 eover the inward vacancy too foon. 
 
 MAY attending angels conduct you in the facred paths 
 tf peace and vktue ! 
 
 "1 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER CLXVIL 
 
 To the fame. 
 
 I confer life, 'tis all a cheat, 
 Tef, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit, 
 Truft off, and think to-morrow will repay} 
 ^o-morroi^s falfer than the former day^ 
 Lyes more, and nvben it fays <we Jhall be blejl 
 With fame newjoy, <uts off" what ive 
 
 Mr. DRYDIN. 
 
 THIS is the pifture of human life; when we view 
 it without a connexion to the next permanent fcene, 
 paft and future pleafures have but an imaginary being. 
 I have been taking fome pains to reafon myfelf into a 
 ftate of indolence, and endeavouring to put a full pe- 
 riod to all expectation of happineis below the ftars. 
 All that deferves the name of happinefs on earth, is 
 that friendly impreflion, which real merit makes on vir- 
 tuous minds ; but that ftamp is immortal, and wiH reach 
 perfedlion in the blifsful regions above. 
 
 YOUR poetical defcription has fet the beauties of 
 nature in a full profpeft before my imagination. I am 
 glad you met with fuch variety of romantic fcenes 
 in your rambles ; but die brighter! appearances in na- 
 ture cannot excite my envy, or raife my curiofity. 
 
 By 'what P<ve /;V</, I plainly know 
 fke total fum 
 
 WERE
 
 262 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 WERE I permitted to make my tour among the 
 ftarry worlds, I fhould leave you very gladly to make 
 the heft of whatever enjoyment the fea or dry land could 
 give you. 
 
 DON'T aflc me to meet you at Oxford, that you may 
 fpare me the pain of a refufal j which will be mor 
 tormenting to myfelf than to you. 
 
 " 
 
 
 ORIGINAL
 
 ORIGINAL 
 
 POEMS, 
 
 AND 
 
 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 B Y 
 
 ROWE. 
 
 >. . Nan haec funt edita al> illo ; 
 
 Sed quafi de domini funere rapta fui. 
 G)uicquid in his igltur vitii rude carmen habebit^ 
 
 Emendaturus, fi licuiflet, erat. Ovid. 
 
 LONDON: 
 Printed in the Year MDCCXLIX.
 
 

 
 Verfes to the memory of 
 Mr. THOMAS ROWE. 
 
 Qecafioned by Mr. Rowe's Lives being tranf- 
 lated into French by the learned Abbe Bel- 
 lenger, and publi/bed at Paris and Amfter- 
 dam with Monfieur DacierV tranflation of 
 Plutarch. 
 
 Nunquatn ego f te vita f rater amfibilior^ 
 
 Afyiciam pvjihac ? at certe fanper amabo. 
 
 Semper macjla tua carmina morte legam. 
 
 CATULL. 
 
 O FRIEND ! O brother ! can thy dear-lov'd nanaf 
 Rife to my view, nor pious forrovv claim ? 
 O early fled to thy congenial ikies, 
 E'er I could know thy matchlefs worth to prize ! 
 Kow ripen'd judgment gives that worth to fee, 
 And next a father loft, I mourn for thee ; 
 For thee, whofe friendlhip had that lofs fupply'd, 
 In youth my guardian, and in age my guide. 
 Thy voice had taught to bend my flubborn will, 
 Lur'd me to good, and warn'd my with from ill. 
 
 . VOL, II. N While
 
 266 Verfes to the memory of, &cc.. 
 
 While Virtue, in thy life to fight confefir, 
 
 With heav'nly charms had vanquifh'd all my breaif, 
 
 With borrow'd vigour I had learn'd to tread 
 
 The path me points, by thy example led : 
 
 Now, my guide loft, I trace the arduous way 
 
 With feeble ftep, and fcarce forbear to ftray. 
 
 O friend ! O brother ! but why thus again 
 
 Will thefe dear names my tortur'd mem'ry pain ? 
 
 Forever gone, thou wilt not leave the ikies, 
 
 For friendfhip's wild complaints, or nature's cries.. 
 
 Ah ! what avail'd with ftudious toil t* explore 
 
 What ancient fcience taught, or modern lore, 
 
 Since not the treafur'd ftores of wifdom fave 
 
 The laurel'd'head from the devouring grave ! 
 
 Yet if, bleft fpirit, minds celeftial know 
 
 To joy at honours paid their names below, 
 
 Hear Philomela^ ftrains rehrfe thy praife, 
 
 While ev'ry mufe infpires- the moving lays ; 
 
 Lays that fhall laft, while virtue boafts to warm 
 
 The gen'rous breaft, or facred verfe can charm : 
 
 And fee thy works thro' foreign nations known, 
 
 Fjl&ce marks their worth, and makes thy Li-vet her own "fe 
 
 And confciotts of their right to equal fame, 
 
 The rival volume joins with Plutarch's name. 
 
 TEQJ!HIJUUS ROWS. 
 
 . 
 
 - 
 
 r .o E. M s
 
 POEMS 
 
 O N 
 
 SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 
 
 HORACE, Book I. Ode xii. imitated. 
 
 1708. 
 
 CLIO, heav'n-born mufe! what happy 
 man, 
 
 Or godlike hero, fhall thy well-tunM 
 harp, 
 
 Or pipe fhrill-fo uncling celebrata? Or if 
 A loftier theme delight thee, fay what God 
 Shall Echo, pleafing babler, taught by thee, 
 Sing in the fhades of Helicon, or P/W, 
 Or Htemu? fecred mount ? where Orpheus, flcill'd 
 In arts maternal, lift'mng rivers ftopt 
 
 N * la
 
 268 POEMS on federal occafions.. 
 
 In their fwift courfes, lull'd the winds to filence, 
 And made the ftubborn oaks attentive move 
 To aukward dances their unwieldy limbs. 
 
 WHERE better can the pious mufe begin, 
 Than with the univerfal Father's praife ? 
 Who rules the pow'rs above, and men below, 
 The earth's wide plains, the fea's unbounded waves, 
 And laws to all the vaft creation gives, 
 With undifputed fvvay ; himfelf fecure 
 Of own'd preheminence ; nor equal knows, 
 Nor aught that may deferve a fecond place. 
 Yet Pallas next our adoration claims ; 
 Immortal maid, in arts and arms fupreme : 
 Bacchus, the foft amufer of our cares, 
 With India's conqueft proud : Diana, foe 
 To beafts untam'd : Apollo, tuneful God ; 
 Able alike to give the wretched life 
 By potent herbs, and villains certain death 
 By never- err ing darts, command our lays. 
 
 NOR ever mail the grateful mufe forget 
 'Alrides, matchlefs hero ; nor the Tov/w, 
 Whom Leda bore to Jove ; this fltilTd to tame 
 The fiery courier, this in fight untam'd i 
 Both by the mariners rever'd : for foon 
 As their aufpicious ftar adorns the fkies, 
 The foaming waters trickle from the rocks, 
 The winds retire in whifpers ; blackeft clouds, 
 That erft portended ftorms, divide, and leave 
 A pleafing day, and ev'ry threatening wave
 
 POEMS on federal occafions. 269 
 
 (So will the Gods ! fo unrefifted fate f) 
 Sinks to a calm, and fleeps upon the feas. 
 
 WHAT next forbids to fing Britannia's chiefs, 
 In war and peace illuftrious ? Brutus firft, 
 Sire of the nation ; Egbert, pow'rful prince, 
 Source of a thoufand kings ; Normannia's duke, 
 An eafy, and a rightful conqueror 
 Of realms his own : Or fhall I thofe record, 
 Who born beneath a throne, to diftant climes 
 Extended Britain's glory, and their own ? 
 Talbct, a name ftill dreaded by the Gaul: 
 Warwick, fure puniiher of perjur'd kings, 
 Who play'd with crowns, and tofs'd the gilded trifles 
 To whom he pleas'd, defpiiing them, as far 
 Beneath his own acceptance : Deifreux, long 
 By great Eliza favour'd, loft at laft 
 By wiles of ftatefmen, and heroic crimes. 
 Who can enough or Fere, or Cdnaijh praife ? 
 Or Drake, Iberia's fcourge ? him poverty 
 Paternal, and a youth inur'd to hardships, 
 Fitted for vaft exploits, and taught to gain, 
 By merit, honours fortune had deny'd. 
 Thro' ev'ry age the RuJJ'fFs patriot race 
 Rifes in fame. The bright Najjovian ftar 
 Shines with tranfcendent fplendor, and exceJs 
 All leffer lights, as Phoebe thofe of heav'n. 
 
 FATHER and guardian of the human race, 
 Offspring of Saturn, who by fate's decree 
 Difpofeft Anna's deiliny ; preferve 
 Thy precious charge, extend her glorious fway. 
 
 N 3 May
 
 270 POEMS on Jeveral occafons. 
 
 May flie acknowledge thee alone fuperior, 
 Nor have on earth an equal : If flie drives 
 From her realm's limits the invading Gaul, 
 Or on the hoftile land due vengeance takes, 
 Haughty in well-got fpoils ; ftill under thee 
 May me in mildnete happy nations rule. 
 Do thou Olympus with thy chariot fhakej 
 Then juilly on thy foes and ours, incens'd, 
 Dart forked lightning, make deftruftion ceafe, 
 And blefs the finking world with Jailing peace. 
 
 Ti BULL us, Book I. Elegy iii. 
 
 WHILE you, Me/ala t with your warlike train, 
 In haughty triumph plow the fubject main, 
 Me my hard fate in realms unknown detains, 
 Thro' all my frame a dire diftemper reigns, 
 'And very hardly life itfelf remains. 
 
 could my pray'rs obtain a ftiort reprieve ! 
 Would the grim tyrant a kind refpite give ! 
 
 1 have no mother here to clofe my eyes, 
 And grace with pious tears my obfequies ; 
 
 No filler, who in loofe, diftievel'd hair, ^ 
 
 And all the pomp of defolate defpair, V 
 
 Should flied rich fpices at my fepulchre : 3 
 
 Nor Delia's here, whofe prefence could create ~\ 
 
 Health and new life, each raging pain abate, > 
 
 And reconcile my foul to all the ills of fate. 3 
 
 She
 
 POEMS on federal occ a/ions. 271 
 
 She, e'er I went, fought ev'ry pow'r above, 
 
 And ev'ry pow'r feenVd gracious to her love j 
 
 All (poke a fafe return, yet ftill fhe fear'd, 
 
 And tender anguifti in her looks appear'd ; 
 
 Tears from her eyes in briny torrents fell, 
 
 And fighs, in rifmg, choak'd her laft farewel. 
 
 I too oft' fought pretexts for my delay ; 
 
 Foul birds and baleful omens ftopt my way, 
 
 Or flars averfe, or Saturn's lacklefs day. 
 
 Oft' I return'd, a longer time to wait, 
 
 Mov'd by ill boding ftumblings at the gate. 
 
 Taught by my harms, let men with caution move, 
 
 Nor tempt the wrath of onconfenting love. 
 
 What is thy 7jts t Delia, now to me ? 
 
 Or what the fruit of thy Vain piety ? 
 
 What have I gain'd from all thy widow'd nights, 
 
 Giv'n all to her, and ftoln from our delights ? 
 
 Yet, Goddefs, fave ! exert thy healing pow'r, 
 
 And to loft health a finking wretch reftore ! 
 
 That Delia may before thine altars bow, 
 
 Perform in pious gratitude her vow, 
 
 And oft', with hair unbound, in artful lays, 
 
 Among thy Pbarian crowd, may chaur.t thy praife ', 
 
 When I to my poor houfhold Gods return, 
 
 And monthly incenfe to my Lares burn. 
 
 O for that age of innocence again, 
 
 That bleft the world in good old Saturn's reign ? 
 
 E'er the divifions of the eartkwere known, 
 
 Or men, for foreign lands, defpis'd their own. 
 
 While the tall pine yet on the mountain flood, 
 
 The fafe, unenvy'd monarch of the wood, 
 
 N 4 No*
 
 272 POEMS on fever al occafiom. 
 
 Not yet cut down, and taught on feas to brave 
 The rage of ev'ry wind, and ev'ry wave : 
 For yet no mariner, for fordid gain, 
 Difturb'd the quiet of the watry reign. 
 The ox, unyok'd, might thro' the paftures ftray j 
 Nor the tough bits taught horfes to obey. 
 No doors fecur'd the houfes yet, nor bounds 
 To private ufe confin'd the fruitful grounds. 
 Soft honey from the folid oaks diftuTd : -y 
 
 The flieep, that rang'd unguarded o'er the field, f 
 Unfought, to ev'ry hand their fwelling dugs would C 
 yield, * 
 
 No thirft of empire, no ambitious rage, -^ 
 
 Nor fell debate, taught mortals to engage, s 
 
 Nor broke the calm repofe that bleft the peaceful age. ) 
 Now, under Jtnx, reign rapine, flaughter, hate, 
 And wars, and ftormy feas, and thoufand forms of fate. 
 O fpare, great Sire ! I never falfly fwore, 
 Blafphem'd thy awful name, nor dar'd thy pow'r,. 
 But if the fatal, deftin'd hour is come, 
 Be this infcription plac'd upon my tomb : 
 
 While numbered with Meflala'j martial train, 
 
 Ibe toils of land, and dangers of the main 
 
 Tibullus prov'd; by early fate oppreft, 
 
 Beneath this humble tomb his ajhes reft. 
 But me, love's Queen, her ever-faithful.flave, 
 Will ftill proteft, and cherim in the grave t 
 She bleft me living, and will guard me dead, 
 And to th' Elyfan fields her conftant vot'ry lead. 
 Bright fcene of endlefs blifs ! where feather'd throngs,. 
 With flender throats repeat melodious fongs. 
 
 Th' un-
 
 POEMS on fever al occafions. 273 
 
 Th' unlabour'd meads fpontaneous Cajfia bear } 
 
 And purple rofes flouriih round the year, 
 
 Join'd with (oft nymphs, the (hepherds dance and play, 
 
 And fport a glad eternity away. 
 
 Mirth and gay joys reign o'er the blifsful fpace, 
 
 And youth immortal (miles in ev'ry face. 
 
 Unhappy lovers, by ftern fortune's hate, 
 
 And the rough hand of unrelenting fate, 
 
 Snatch'd fudden from their joys, are doubly bleft, 
 
 With myrtle wreaths diftinguifti'd from the relL 
 
 Far from thefe regions of unmix'd delight, 
 
 Hid in thick (hades of everlafting night, 
 
 Are the dire manilons and fevere abodes, 
 
 Sacred to vengeance and infernal Gods : 
 
 Round the fad feats fulphureous waters roar, 
 
 Vaft CerPrus barks before the brazen door ; 
 
 Tijiphonc, wkh fnaky trefles crown'd, 
 
 Laflies the flying criminals around, 
 
 And with the dreadful noife the gloomy caves refound. 
 
 Ixlon there, whofe infolence durft move 
 
 To impious fires the royal bride of Jove, 
 
 Fix'd on his reftlefs wheel, while endlefs years 
 
 Purfue their courfe, the whirling vengeance bears. 
 
 Tityus extended o'er nine acres lies, 
 
 And daily food to rav'nous birds fupplies: 
 
 And Tantalus, with feeming plenty curft, 
 
 Sees waters court his lips, yet dies for thirft. 
 
 There j uftly fuffer Danaus* curfed race, 
 
 The horror and the hate of all the difmal place; 
 
 Who braving love, and Hymen's facred rites, 
 
 Could flay their hufbands on their nuptial nights. 
 
 N 5 There
 
 274 POEMS on federal occajions. 
 
 There may the wretches howl, whoe'er they be, 
 
 Who wifh'd ill- fortune to my loves and me j 
 
 That I might from my Delia wander far, 
 
 Thro' all the hardfhips of a tedious war ! 
 
 But thou, my love, thy conftancy retain, 
 
 And true to me, and thy own vows remain j 
 
 In fafe retirement my long aWence mourn, 
 
 Nor form a wifh for joy, 'till my return. 
 
 Let thy old faithful nurfe be ever by, 
 
 The ancient guardian of thy chaftity j 
 
 Whofe tales may chafe the ling'ring {hades away, 
 
 And lull thy forrows 'till the dawning day. 
 
 Sudden I'll come, as to thy wiflies giv'n, 
 
 And fent by fome ftrange miracle from heav'n ; 
 
 Then thou, my Delia, with an hafty pace, 
 
 Run unadorn'd and loofe to my embrace. 
 
 When, when, ye pow'rs, will that bright morning rife* 
 
 To paint with livelier red the eaftern flues, 
 
 Which ending all my griefs and dire alarms, 
 
 Shall give my Delia to my longing arms ? 
 
 Propitious Heav'n, all obftacles remove ; 
 
 And let me die, at leaft, with the dear nymph I love ? 
 
 - 
 ' 
 
 rrtwiT 
 DCS TOi : 
 /! nm;: 
 
 A*
 
 POEMS on fever al occafions. 275 
 
 * An ODE on VIRTUE. 
 I. 
 
 y~i E L E S T IAL Virtue, offspring of the fky^ 
 \^J For thee alone I touch the trembling firing ; 
 
 Aflift thy modeft votary, 
 And take the humble incenfe that I bring : 
 
 Excufe at leaft the doubtful fong, 
 While mortal lays the lofty fubjeft wrong. 
 
 II. 
 
 TH Y charms, bright Virtue, all mankind confefs ; 
 
 And ev'n the monfter Vice, 
 When {he th 1 unpraftis'd finner would entice, 
 To meet his firft attempt me borrows thy addrefe, 
 
 Is bafhful yet and nice, 
 A virgin delicacy feems to wear : 
 For mould her own deformity 
 
 Without difguife appear, 
 What dealing wretch but would the terror fly ? 
 
 What 
 
 * By a letter of Mrs. Reivers, which has lately fallen 
 into the hands of the Editor, it occafionally appears, 
 that tho' fhe took a pleafure in having this ode afcribed 
 to Mr. Roive, yet it was, in truth, written by herfelf : 
 But the prefent edition was too far advanced in the prefs, 
 to permit this error to be rectified in its due place*
 
 276 POEMS on fever al occafions. 
 
 What defp'rate fool, mould me unveil her face, 
 Would tempt perdition, for the curil embrace ? 
 
 in. 
 
 PRECEDING times in great examples {hew 
 What human minds, infpir'd by thee, can dxv 
 By gen'rous principles and honour led, 
 The lovely Syrian, in his blooming age, 
 
 Refus'd the fond Egyptian's bed, 
 And ftedfaftly repuls'd her am'rous rage. 
 
 IV. 
 
 WHEN ancient Tanls in her glory flood, 
 Proud of her palmy groves and facred flood ; 
 Which gently flowing from its heav'nly fource, 
 Enrich'd her level borders with its courfe : 
 Vaft pyramids, with elevated heads, 
 Pointed the plains, and ftretch'd their fpiral fliades 
 To diftant woods, and far-extended meads. 
 .Rich Thebes* devoted to the God of day, 
 Stood, like her own refplendent planet, gay. 
 The lofty domes with golden luftre (hone, 
 An hundred gates adorn'd the pop'lous town j 
 The buildings all were rais'd with wond'rous coft,. 
 With filver foliage the high roofs erabofs'd ; 
 Well-finim'd fculpture on the walls was ftiewn ; 
 For art was here in full perfe&ion known, 
 
 F,'er Phidias wrought in Parian ftone, 
 Or Greece her fltilful J>atialus could boaft. 
 Th' Egyptian court with foft Afljria vy'i 
 
 IB all her luxury and pride : 
 But Pharaoh's age no promis'd heir fupply'd j
 
 POEMS on fever al occafions. 277 
 
 His beauteous daughter all his hopes betray'd, 
 
 To IJis ihe herfelf had vow'd 
 
 A confecrated maid : 
 
 The facred crefcent on her breaft me wore, 
 Her robe with golden ftars was fpangled o'er. 
 
 To Nitus 1 banks the pious fair, 
 Performing holy rites, did now repair ; 
 When from the fhore an infant's feeble cries 
 
 Her virgin train furprize : 
 Among the reeds a lovely boy they found, 
 His temples with an ambient glory crown'dy. 
 Divine prefaces fparkled in his face, 
 Unvulgar beauty, and exprefslefs grace: 
 The Gods have thus, the joyful princefs cry'd 1 , 
 My father's wimes with an heir fupply'd. 
 Young Mofes, her adopted fon fhe nam'd ; 
 But when his years had reach'd their manly prime, 
 The title he difclaim'd ; 
 
 Govern 'd by motives more fublime, 
 While heav'nly Virtue his .high thoughts inflam'cL 
 
 V. 
 
 BY heavenly Virtue led, 
 Th' Egyptian court, and all its pomp he fled ; 
 And wand'ring far away on Midian plains,. 
 An humble life he chofe among the fwains. 
 In moving lays he taught the rural throng 
 Celeflial truths , while lift'ning to his flrain, 
 
 The flying winds their breath retain, 
 And winding currents flowly glide along. 
 Of chaos and the world's great birth he fung. 
 How from the word divine the fair creation fprung. 
 
 High
 
 278 POEMS on fever al occafion*. 
 
 High Horeb from his cloudy fummit heard 
 The tuneful founds, long e'er the Tbracian bard r 
 On H<emus* banks, in potent numbers ftrove 
 A favage nation wifely to improve. 
 
 VL 
 
 WHEN on Bet&orov's plains great Jojbua, chas'd- 
 
 The Amorean kings 5 
 
 Left darknefs o'er their flight her veil fhould cafl, . 
 And from his fword proted them with her wings,. 
 Forward before his wond'ring troops he fprung, 
 Pois'd in his hand a trembling jav'lin hung j 
 Mov'd by an inftigation all divine, 
 Heroic Virtue, the great hint was thine. 
 
 When on the fparkling fkies 
 The daring warrior fix'd his eyes, 
 Some God the foldiers in his face regard, 
 While from his lips thefe mighty words they heard, 
 Thou fun, he boldly cry'd, thou fun, fland ftill, 
 Nor ftretch the fhades on GibeaWs lofty hill ; 
 And thou, fair moon, retard thy hafty flight, 
 And gild the vales of Ajalon at night ! 
 Aftonifh'd nature inftantly obey'd, 
 And in a deep fufpenfe the heav'nly motions ftay'd 1 , 
 
 VTI. 
 
 NOR leave the tunful heroine un-nam'dv 
 Ye virgin mufes, who her breaft inflam'd j 
 Virtue no brighter votary can boaft, 
 
 No brighter names in all her lift appear; 
 The warrior's crown, and poet's wreath (he claim'd, 
 She touch'd the lyre, and fhook the pointed fpear, 
 The life and glory of the Hebrew hoft : 
 
 014
 
 POEMS on Jeveral cccafions. 279-- 
 
 Old Kifion to her aid his billows brought, 
 And on her fide the marfhall'd planets fought. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE Medts fubdu'd, and Ecbatana raz'd; 
 The haughty Perfean with frefh laurels grac'd>. 
 To Jordan's banks his numerous forces led. 
 
 Wide as the eaftern rule is fpread, 
 The diftant realms his glad affiflants come : 
 From S erica, and Ox us' borders fome, 
 From Indus' and imperial Ganges' Ihores, 
 And where luxuries' rapid current roars,. 
 The hardy race on wild Hyrcania bred, 
 
 Advanc'd with bold intrepid breafts. 
 The tall Armenians with their waving crefts,. 
 
 And Parthians with their backward bows,. 
 A dreadful fcene on Hebron's plains difclofe. 
 But none in courage or in. fplendor vy'd 
 With the gay troops that left the flow'ry fields,. 
 Where royal Ulai rolls his cryftal tide ; 
 Their helmets gold, and gold their blazing fhieldg^ 
 With dancing plumes and Tynan fcarves, from far 
 They fhone the pride and terror of the war : 
 With airy feet their courfers fpurn'd the plains,. 
 In filver trappings decked ; 
 
 With filver curbs and fcarlet reins 
 Their fiery rage their graceful riders check'd; 
 Incamp'd before the facred hill they lay, 
 Where Salem's lofty tow'rs their ftrength difplay. 
 
 . WHILS
 
 POEMS on federal occafions. 
 IX. 
 
 WHILE to their great forefather's aid 
 With ftedfaft zeal the fons of Ifrael pray'd ; 
 The potent pray'r prevails ; a Hebrew dame 
 By Heav'n was deftin'd to the great event, 
 To fix a fcandal on th' JlJJyrian name, 
 A lafting fcandal, and immortal fhame. 
 Led by the mighty impulfe, Judith went 
 Undaunted to the Perjtan leader's tent; 
 The chief with wonder gazes on the fair, 
 Her gefture free, engaging all her air. 
 
 A nice referve and modeft pride 
 Chaften'd the native foftnefs in her looks defcrjr'd*. 
 Her features nobly turn'd, her cheeks difclofe 
 A frefher bluih than paints the blooming rofe. 
 Her eyes were black, and black her fhining hair ; 
 Black as the midnight clouds, which fometimes grace 
 With chequer'd mades the moon's refplendent face ; 
 Part to the fight was in loofe curls expos'd,. 
 
 The reft a fpangled caul inclos'd! : 
 To that a white tranfparent veil was joined, 
 Which negligently hover'd to the wind. 
 With envious art a fhade of fineft lawn 
 Was o'er her fwelling bofom drawn. 
 A fparkling diamond hung at either ear, 
 And rubies round her fwelling neck appear. 
 Her robes were coftly filk, and ev'ry fold 
 Vary'd with blue and winding ftreaks of gold. 
 She foon protection and redrefs obtain'd j 
 
 While from the Pcrjlan chief 
 Her moving words procur'd belief, 
 And eafy credit gain'd. 
 
 A rich
 
 POEMS en fever al octa/ions. 2 Si 
 
 A rich pavilion to his own adjoin'd, 
 
 Was to the fair that night affign'd, 
 Afiur'd from all a juft refpeft to find. 
 The charming Htbrtiv with her maid retir'd, 
 And left the gen'ral with her beauty fir'd ; 
 But gentle fleep his am'rous cares appeas'd, 
 While thro' the camp the midnight riot ceas'd. 
 
 Darknefs and filence now combine 
 To favour Judith in her great defign. 
 
 Undaunted Virtue fill'd her breait, 
 Undaunted Virtue her whole foul polleft ; 
 
 While by a glimm'ring taper led, 
 
 She found the flee ping warrior's bed : 
 His fword with an audacious air flie took, 
 And freed her nation at one noble ftroke. 
 
 X. 
 
 BY Grecian heroes wonders have been done, 
 
 And lafting fame for great atchievemente won ; 
 
 But all they tell wild fidions prove, 
 
 Of fated armor, and affifting Jove. 
 
 No partial Goddefs to Achilles brought 
 
 A fpear and fev'n-fold fhield by Vulcan wrought. 
 
 No Pallas to the field Atrides led, 
 
 Nor grac'd the chariot with young Diomed, 
 
 When from his raging fword the Trojans fled ; 
 
 But Virtue own'd the Argi<vt\ caufe, 
 Avenging breach of faith and hofpitable laws : 
 Their belt fuccefs was owing ftill to thee, 
 Their profp'rous Genius thou, and aiding Deity. 
 
 XI. AT
 
 Po E M s .on fever at occafions. 
 
 XI. 
 
 AT ancient Rome thy name was long ador'd, 
 
 For thee they drew, for thee they fheath'd the fword. 
 
 Great Numa oft' conversed with thee, 
 Amidft the gloomy night's folemnity. 
 
 While the pale moon with fflver beams 
 Chequer'd the fhades r and glimmer'd on the ilreams,. 
 Egeria or Urania, nymphs divine, 
 He oft' invok'd by fome clear fountain's fall : 
 However nam'd, the lovely form was thine 
 
 That anfwer'd ftill his call ; 
 From thee he learn'd by gentle arts t'affwage 
 The Sabines fulfcn hatred, and the Roman rage, 
 
 Nor Faunas gave (as {lory tells) 
 
 The peaceful prince fantaftic fpells; 
 
 To charm fierce lions from their prey, 
 Or fwelling torrents in their banks to ftay j 
 
 To turn the lightning's fatal force, 
 
 Or break the raging thunder's courfe j 
 Thefe great efFeds, celeftial Piety, 
 Thefe great effects belong alone to thee_ 
 
 XII. 
 
 MANL1US and great Camlfa owe to thee 
 Their fame aad glorious immortality. 
 
 Horatius fought by thee fuftain s d, 
 When fingly he th.' unequal war maintain'd ; 
 In vain, to pafs the bridge the Tufcans ftrove, 
 Backward whole (quadrons with his fpear he drove j 
 
 Fix*d as his country's guardian God, 
 
 On TybeSs banks the hero flood, 
 And ftairid the foaming ftream with hoftile blood. 
 
 XIII. Ix
 
 POEMS on federal occafions. 28 3 
 
 XIII. 
 
 IN vain ill omens would Flaminius fright j 
 In vain his courfer, with unufual fears, 
 
 Still backward from the fight 
 
 The furious warrior bears ; 
 Unmanag'd o'er the wide campaign he fiew,. 
 And from his feat the daring rider threw 
 
 The daring rider mounts again, 
 And urg'd the battle on the deftin'd plain : 
 Unterrify'd with Hannibal's great name, 
 
 And full of martial flame, 
 Still foremoft on the glitt'ring fpears he preft. 
 The Roman Genius, for his life diflreft, 
 With a prodigious earthquake fhook the ground 
 
 The violent force 
 
 Pour'd back the rivers to their inmoft fource, 
 Revers'd the floods, and chang'd their native eourfe. 
 Thrice from the ikies portentous thunders found. 
 And thrice ill boding lightnings blaz'd around ; 
 Nor earthquakes, lightnings, nor the thund'ring Ikies, 
 A breaft with Virtue guarded can furprize : 
 
 Still refolute and bold, 
 Tlamlmus on the thickefl dangers flies, 
 And bravely met the fate the warning Gods foretold 
 
 XIV. 
 
 IF ever praife to 'Roman worth was due, 
 If ever Virtue could diftbaion claim, 
 
 Great Sdpjo, thy illuftrious name 
 Shall ftand the foremoft in the lifts of fame, 
 And future times thy triumphs fhall renew. 
 
 Tha
 
 284 POEMS on federal occ a/io*ts t 
 
 The conduft of Falntim 1 " age, 
 
 And young Minutiui 1 martial rage, 
 
 In thee were eminently found : 
 With all that men revere, or Heav'n applauds, 
 
 Thy glorious life was crown'd. 
 Rom^s mighty empire feem'd alone on thee 
 
 Dependent for fecurity : 
 
 Without thee, ev'n her boafted Gods 
 Had ill defended their own gay abodes. 
 Whatever wreaths at Thebes or Troy were gain'd, 
 Whatever fame at Salamis obtained, 
 
 Or at ArM/e's fatal field ; 
 Their moft illuftrious deeds to thine muft yield. 
 Nor waft thou in thy public life more great, 
 
 Than in thy laft retreat 
 To the Lintcrnlan {hades, thy humble feat. 
 In all things thou waft modeft ftill and brave, 
 Neither to Vice, nor Virtue's felf a flave ; 
 Virtue was choice, delib'rate choice, in thee, 
 Not philofophic pride, nor dull neceffity. 
 
 . XV. 
 
 BRIGHT Goddefs, what refiftlefs charms are thine, 
 That men for thee all human things forego, 
 
 And willingly refign 
 
 The deareft ties and foftett names below ? 
 By what ftrange arguments doft thou engage 
 Unpralis'd youth, and fpiritlefs old age, 
 To brave, for thee, the fierceft tyrant's rage ? 
 Bright Goddefs, thou the caufe alone canlt tell, 
 And all the facred myftery reveal. 
 
 XVI. Tis
 
 Po E M s on federal occqfions. 285 
 XVI. 
 
 *Tis done ! immortal light without controul 
 Comes turning like a mighty torrent on my foul. 
 Traniporting fcenes are open'd to my eyes, 
 I fee the inmoft glories of the fkies; 
 I fee the bright diftinguim'd crown, 
 That led the conquering martyrs on ; 
 I walk among the manfions of the Gods, 
 The foft receffes, and the bleft abodes; 
 I trace the happy vales and lightfome plains, 
 Where pleafure, peace and love triumphant reigns : 
 
 Thro' all the region round 
 The voice of feftival, and nuptial fongs 
 
 Perpetually refound. 
 
 Ineffable the reft, 
 
 And by immortal tongues 
 
 Alone to be expreft. 
 
 All hail, ye fcourges, flames and tort'ring wheels 1 
 Your force no more the miv'ring fancy feels, 
 
 Enlighten' d thus,, Romanus try'd 
 The tyrant's utmoil cruelty and pride. 
 
 Lucius, with thefe bright profpefts fir'd, 
 And young Hormifda, their tormentors tir'd ; 
 Rhea and Dionyjia trampled down 
 Oppofmg hell, and gain'd the martyr's crown, 
 
 XVII. 
 
 WITH arts more fatal Deciai ftrove 
 Ncetai fortitude to move,
 
 286 POEMS on fever al occafions. 
 
 In a delicious garden's foft retreat 
 
 The youth was gently laid, 
 
 Wrapt in a filken net, 
 A flow'ry couch beneath him fpread, 
 Where fragrant jefTmins lent a grateful fhade: 
 A dying breeze, a fountain's eafy fall, 
 Mix'd with melodious birds, for gay delights did call. 
 While a young harlot, in the tempting pride 
 Of airy life and wanton beauty, try'd 
 With guilty blandifhment and art, 
 Obfcene careffes and licentious fong, 
 To poifon with contagious flames his heart, 
 To tempt the faint his holy vows to wrong ; 
 Unconquer'd yet the youthful faint remain'd, 
 And all her proffer'd charms and lewd addrefs difdain'd. 
 
 xvur. 
 
 EULALIA to the ftern tribunal prefs'd, 
 And boldly there the Chrijlian faith profefs'd : 
 
 The favage judge fufpends her doom, 
 Touch'd with her dawning charms and early bloom. 
 To Jo<vt& high fhrine they led the tender maid j 
 The prieft in his fantaftic pomp array'd, 
 A golden cenfer brought, 
 
 With confecrated odours fraught, 
 Which fiercely from his hand the virgin caught j 
 Beneath her feet the fmoking gums fhe trod, 
 Derides the bigot, and infults his God : 
 
 Uranov'd the fenfelefs idol ftands, 
 With ufelefs thunder in his paffive hands ; 
 
 But
 
 POEMS on federal occafiom. 287 
 
 But all their rage his wild adorers fhow, 
 
 And in their cruelty 
 
 Surpafs'd the fiends below. 
 
 Their fcourges, pincers, and their racks they try'd; 
 By more than human fortitude fuftain'd, 
 The fuff'ring maid her conftancy retain'd* 
 Be all the pow'rs of death and hell defy'd f 
 Your malice can no more, me faintly cry'd, 
 And fouling on her curft tormentors, dy'd. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 NOR Virtue with preceding times is loll, 
 Nor Rome alone illuftrious. names can boaft ; 
 The charming Goddefs has not left the ftage, 
 A thousand great examples grace the prefent age : 
 But Virtue ne'er with brighter pomp was feen, 
 Nor wore a nobler form than in the Britijh * Quee, 
 
 XX. 
 
 THOU art thy own immense reward, 
 
 Should man no future ftate regard : 
 Were fields of. light, and gay ethereal plains, 
 The fanguine flights of vifionary brains ; 
 
 The happy mind, poffefs'd of thee, 
 Would find unmingled joy, and true felicity. 
 Were there no gloomy ffcores, no burnisg lakes, 
 No chains of darknefe, nor infernal racks ; 
 
 Were 
 
 * Written before the Yfat 1710.
 
 288 P o E M s on fcveral occafiont. 
 
 Were hell a wild, enthufiaftic dream, 
 A ftatefman's trick, a poet's lying theme, 
 
 A pious fraud, a black deceit 
 Of mercenary priefb, the world to cheat ; 
 Yet ftill within itfelf a guilty mind 
 The emphafis of ev'ry plague would find. 
 
 An EPISTLE to a FRIEND. 
 
 Written in the Spring, 1710. 
 
 WHILE pious Anna's conqu'ring arms 
 Fill powerful guilt with juft alarms, 
 Which now {hall foon make difcord ceafe, 
 And blefs the jarring world with peace ; 
 While faucy priefb fedition prate, n 
 
 Arraign the Queen, embroil the ftate, V 
 
 And murmur at they know not what ; J 
 
 Thou, Dapbms, by kind fate fent down 
 From the wild tumults of the town, 
 Doft, in a happy rural feat, 
 Tafte the pure joys of calm retreat. 
 Nature, with blooming honours gay 
 And vernal fweets, invites thy ftay. 
 See the fair morning of the year 
 In all its richeft pomp appear ! 
 See the briflc fongfters of the air 
 To the forfaken woods repair ! 
 
 Hear
 
 POEMS on fever at occasions. 289 
 
 Hear them in artlefs harmony 
 
 Welcome back the fpring and thee ! 
 
 Baniih'd from the charming plains, 
 
 No more the fluggifli feafon reigns : 
 
 Bat ah ? the fad detefled gueft 
 
 Still keeps its empire in my breaft ; 
 
 For in the abfence of the fair, > 
 
 Doubt, anguifh, jealoufy, defpair, > 
 
 Make an eternal winter there. j 
 
 DAPHNIS^ to wliom by gentle Heav'n 
 The blifs I languifh for is giv'n, 
 V/ho all thofe beauties canit admire, 
 That fet my longing foul on fire, 
 And gaze on thofe bewitching eyes, 
 For whofe dear light poor Strepbon dies, 
 And thofe tender accents hear, 
 Which wound the heart, and charm the ear j 
 Gaze not on thofe eyes too long, 
 Nor Men to her tempting tongue, 
 Leaft all thy foul their influence prove, 
 And friendfhip yield to mightier love. 
 Call all that friendfhip to thy aid, 
 And tell, oh ! tell the lovely maid, 
 With all thy eloquence and art, 
 What racking forrows rend my heart : 
 Tell her, how I wafte away 
 In never-ceafing moans the day ; 
 Wafte in woes the tedious night, -^ 
 
 Yet curfe the dull, ungrateful light, C 
 
 That brings not Delia to my fight. 3 . 
 
 ,.jVoL. II. O Each
 
 290 POEMS on federal oc cafions-. 
 
 Each fun with fainter beams appears, 
 Tho' every breaft, but mine, it chears ; 
 And 'till from her my foul receive 
 The joys that flie alone can give, 
 While all things fmile around, I grieve. 
 Tell her But ah ! I afk in vain 
 Thy aid to tell my am'rous pain, 
 Tho' none with -nicer judgment knows, 
 To paint diftrefs, and talk of woes. 
 Can artful tales my griefs exprefs ? 
 Ev'n moving numbers make them lefs. 
 Not all the mufes can infpire, 
 Not the great God that tunes the lyre, 
 With all his force and all his fire ; 
 Not ev'n her own immortal lays, 
 Sacred to glory and to praife, 
 And of eternity fecure, 
 Can paint the torments I endure, 
 O could the charming maid but know 
 Part of the pains I undergo, 
 Pains to none but lovers known, 
 And guefs my fufPrings by her own ! 
 Ye verdant plains, ye flow'ry hills, 
 Ye little, gentle, murm'ring rills, 
 Ye peaceful fhades and filent groves, 
 Scenes of foft reft and rural loves, 
 Say, for you beft her fecrets know, 
 And oft' have heard her tuneful woe, 
 Is the bright charmer <ver kind ? 
 Is Strephon always in her mind ? 
 Does fhe not teach the rocks my name ? 
 On wounded barks infcribe her flame ?
 
 POEMS on fever al occajions. 
 
 To the attentive bending boughs, 
 Whifper a thoufand am'rous vows ? 
 Chide the dull lagging hours away, 
 And in foft fighs accufe my flay ? 
 Zephyrs bear the charmer's fighs, 
 Waft them gently to the flues ; 
 Hear them, ye little Gods of love, 
 And all ye awful pow'rs above, 
 In your own regifters record 
 Each am'rous vow, and melting word ; 
 That firm, unfhaken they may be, 
 As the ftern kws of deftiny, 
 And the dear paflion may remain 
 Fix'd as your own eternal reign. 
 
 D4PHNIS, deareft youth, excufe 
 The roving tranfports of the mufe ; 
 If, while fantaftic joys me feigns, 
 To eafe her real, mighty pains, 
 Joys too glorious to conceive, 
 Too vaft to hope, or to believe, 
 Unmindful for a while fhe be 
 Of facred frjendfhip, and of thee. 
 Friendfhip's holy link, that binds 
 In ftrifteft ties the nobleft minds, 
 My grateful foul mail never break : 
 For thee a thoufand vows J make, 
 And for thy blifs, my conftant eare, 
 I tire the gracious Gods with pray'r. 
 
 THRO' all thy life may 'ft thou poflefs 
 Uninterrupted happinefs ; 
 
 O a Serene
 
 292 POEM-S on feveral occa/ionsi 
 
 Serene may every fun arife, 
 
 To light thee to fucceffive joys ; 
 
 May ev'ry hour glide fmooth away. 
 
 And faiiling as a fummer's day. 
 
 No anxious thoughts diftraft thy breaft, -\ 
 
 And no unpleafmg dreams infeft v 
 
 Thy downy fleep and filken reft. J 
 
 Whene'er thou lov'ft, be light thy chain, 
 
 And gentle thy fair tyrant's reign ; 
 
 .Soft and melting may fhe be, 
 
 Artlefs, innocent, and free ; 
 
 And in one word to fum the reft, 
 
 That thou mayft be completely bleft ; 
 
 In mind, in form,- in mien, and air, -\ 
 
 As near with Delia to compare, > 
 
 As Heav'n can make another fair. J 
 
 YE Pow'rs, (if any Pow'rs there be, 
 That mind fo mean a wretch as me) 
 From your exalted ftations hear, 
 And liften to my humble pray V. 
 Your choiceft gifts on Anna (bed, 
 Deck with frem laurels Marlbro 1 ^ head j 
 Let the vaft minds that guide the ftate, 
 Be without crime or envy great : 
 In lower fpheres my wimes move, 
 I afk no other blifs but love. 
 Let fullen ftar? refufe to blefs 
 My meaner aims at happinefs ; 
 Let envious fortune Waft my toil, 
 And all things frown, if Delia fmfle. 
 
 Trtmble
 
 POEMS on fever al occafions. 293 
 
 Tremble mean fouls, when lightnings fly, 
 And thunders rend the diftant fky j 
 Secure the rifing ftorm I'll wait, 
 And crave the malice of my fate : 
 Only let the tender fair 
 Eafe the fuiPrings I mull bear, 
 With gentle pity care my fmart, ' 
 Appeafe each horror in my heart, 
 Indulge my hopes, allow my fires, 
 And own the paffion me infpires ; 
 While I eternal vows repeat, 
 And die in raptures at her feet. 
 
 PARDON, Daphnis, flill I rove ; y 
 
 Whatever fubjeft I would prove, > 
 
 ' Still I return to her, and love. 3 
 
 Delia's my everlafting theme, 
 My waking, thought, my nightly dream : 
 For her alone I touch the firing, 
 For her in artlefs numbers fmg ; 
 I neither court, nor hope the bays, 
 Too bleft, if me accept my lays, 
 Pity the weak unable mufc, 
 And what me cannot praife, excufe. 
 Thou too, my friend, content receive 
 The wretched prefents I can give. 
 The feeble mufe unpraclis'd fmgs- 
 In humble notes of humble things. 
 Perhaps, when the black ftorms blow o'er, "\ 
 
 When the waves gently kifs the more, > 
 
 And wars and tumults are no more ; J 
 
 When peace with balmy wings mail fmile, 
 And brood aufpicious on our ifle ; 
 
 03 My
 
 294 POEMS on fever al occafiom, 
 
 My foul with the bright profpeft fir'd, 
 With nobler warmth (hall be infpir'd, 
 With new-born ftrengih (hall dare to rife, 
 And in bold flights attempt the fkies, 
 Paint all the gay, tranfporting fcene, 
 And fing the Hero, and the >ueen: 
 Then with juft fires, and loftier lays, 
 I'll fpeak my friendihip, and thy praife; 
 Great as my theme my force fhall be, 
 And all my numbers worthy thee. 
 
 D A v i D'J Lamentation over SAUL and 
 JONATHAN. 
 
 OFFSPRING of Ifrad, by peculiar grace 
 Diftinguifti'd from the reft of haman race, 
 With fplendid names arkt haughty titles proud, 
 Fav'rites of Heav'n, the chofen feed of God ; 
 Too bleft while Saul your conqu'ring armies led, 
 And Jonathan commanded at their head ; 
 With a long tram of mining glories crown' d, 
 The envy and the dread of all the nations round j 
 Now prefs'd beneath a lofs without relit 
 And only great and eminent in grief j 
 In all the pomp of moving forrow come, 
 To pay vain honours at your prince's tomb. 
 Tour beauty and your glory loft deplore : 
 The great are falfn, the mighty are no more, 
 Let all mankind the glorious dead bemoan, 
 From pole to pole be the wide ruin known.
 
 POEMS on fever al occajions. 295 
 
 Ye gentle dreams, with your kind waves diffufe 
 
 Throughout the realms you blefs, the difmal news, 
 
 And bid th 1 unbounded waters, as they flow, 
 
 Convey to worlds unknown the mighty woe. 
 
 Winds, that in tempefts Heav'n's juft wrath declare, 
 
 And you that in Toft murmurs fan the air, 
 
 In all your fleeting eourfes thro' the fky, 
 
 Bear on your wings our lofs, and fpread it as you fly : 
 
 Only of Gatb and Afcalon beware, 
 
 Nor whifper oat the fatal fecret there j 
 
 Leal the detefted race, our ancient hate, 
 
 Hear the fad found, and triumph in our fate. 
 
 Ah ! 'tis in vain, the long untafted joys n 
 
 Already fill their minds with glad furprize, > 
 
 Glow in their cheeks, and fparkle in their eyes. 3 
 
 The vile idolaters the temples crowd, 
 
 With coftiy fpices ev'ry altar load ; 
 
 And while the fky's obfcur'd with fragrant fmoke, 
 
 Their fenfelefs fancied deities invoke, 
 
 Their impious madnefs openly proclaim, 
 
 And loud blafpheme th' unutterable name. 
 
 With niceft art, the unbelieving fair 
 
 Give a new luftre to each tempting air, 
 
 Point ev'ry dart, and level all their charms-, 
 
 To win fome haughty warriour to their arms, 
 
 O'er fome great chief an eafy conqueft gain, 
 
 And drag the conqu'ror in a willing chain. 
 
 The barb'rous poets tune their loftieft lays, 
 
 To reach in awkward notes the victor's praife j 
 
 In artlefs numbers celebrate the day, 
 
 And boaft of vid'ry and of Gilboa. 
 
 O 4. Gilloaf
 
 296 POEMS on Jeveral oc capons.. 
 
 curft mount ! thou ever hated ground, 
 
 To after-times by our defeat renown'd ! 
 
 No more on thee let facred incenfe rife, 
 
 Perfume the neighb'ring plains, and glut the greedy 
 ikies; 
 
 No more on thee let gentle dews defcend, 
 
 Nor heav'n of fruitful fhow'rs the fuccour lend j 
 
 The defart earth nor fruits, nor herbage know, 
 
 But all be wild and barren as our woe ! 
 
 Since upon .thee our princes fell, the fhield 
 
 Vilely abandoned on thy guilty field \ 
 Thou fond ft the dreadful ruin <uie deplore, 
 On tbee the great are falfn, the mighty are no more. 
 
 O Saul ! O Jonathan ! illuftrious pair ! 
 
 How great ! how good ! how excellent you were ! 
 
 In peace our only pleafure and delight, 
 
 Our only fafety and defence in fight ! 
 
 Philijiia oft' has felt Saul's mighty hand- 
 
 Scatt'ring wide defolation o'er the land ; 
 
 Nor lefs the force of Jonathan has mourn'd, 
 
 Whofe fword ne'er empty to its fheath return'd ; 
 
 But deeply ftain'd, and glutted well with gore, 
 
 The nobleft and the beft the hated nation bore. 
 
 Lefs fwift the eagle bears his prize away, 
 
 Lefs fierce the lion rends the panting prey. 
 
 Alike their (kill, alike their matchlefs art, 
 
 To twang the far-refounding bow, and dart 
 
 The ne ver- erring jav'lin to the heart : 
 
 Alike they dar'd, and fought, and overcame, ^ 
 
 The fame their martial fire and thirft of fame ; > 
 
 Ah ! that their haplefs end Should alfo be the fame ! 3 
 
 That 
 
 \
 
 POEMS on federal occafions. 2 97 
 
 That haplefs end ive ever miijl deplore, 
 The great are fair# t the mighty are no more. 
 Ye num'rous fair that Ifrad\ court adorn, 
 Above the reft, your prince, your monarch mourn ; 
 For yours he was, ftoop'd to your pow'r alone, 
 Your pow'r that only could exceed his own. 
 How was he pleas'd when he from conqueft came, 
 Grown'd with frefh laurels and eternal fame, 
 A fair, a radiant circle to behold, 
 Clad in rich filk, and proud in pompous gold f 
 Who ftopt the noify triumph in its way, 
 And made the greateft fplendor of the day ; 
 Who in foft numbers, and melodious lays, 
 Made heav'n's wide arch refound the conqu'ror's praife ; 
 And by the charming muiic of their tongue, 
 Added new glories to the deeds they fung ; 
 Who with kind love could foften all his care, 
 And more than recompence the fallen toils of war. 
 How have you ftrove t'avert the fate we mourn ! "\ 
 Afcending fpices on-each hill did burn, v 
 
 And Heav'n was tir'd with vows for his return. 3- 
 
 In vain, alas ! you vow'd, in vain you pray'd, 
 In vain your unavailing ofFrings paid ; 
 Heav'n, by our crimes incens'd, refus'd your pray'r, 
 And bad the wanton winds difperfe it in the air. 
 At Icaft, lament the prince you could not fave, 
 Shed a foft tear in pity on his grave j 
 Sufpend a while the conquefts of your eyes, "\ 
 
 And in true woe and unaffected fighs, > 
 
 Pay your laft homage at his obfequies : J, 
 
 'The "jajf, the uni<verfal lofs deplore^ 
 J)( great are falTn, the mighty are no more. 
 
 05 But
 
 298 POEMS on Jeveral occafions. 
 
 But my wild grief no limits e'er (hall know, 
 Who to the public join a private woe : 
 Ne'er 'till-my forrows with my life {hall end, 
 I'll caafe to mourn my brother and my friend. 
 O Jonathan ! like thee none ever knew 
 To pay a debt to facred friendQiip due : 
 'Tis not in words or numbers, to exprefs 
 Thy vaft, thy unexampled tendemefs. 
 Not the foft maid, but lately tanght to prove 
 The wild diforders of unruly love ; 
 Tho' the fierce paffion reigns throughout her frame, 
 And all her foul is melting in the flame, 
 E'er felt a love like that which thou haft fhewn, 
 Soft as the tender fex, and manly as thy own. 
 Yet thou art fall v n, alas ! no more to- rife, 
 And death's cold fleep {its heavy on thine eyes. 
 Howe'er thy name mall live, the world lhall know 
 What to thy honour'd memory I owe : 
 To all the wond'ring people I'll rehearfe 
 Thy deathlefs glories, in no vulgar verfe. 
 Thou in the firftr and nobleft rank {halt tfand 
 Of conllant friends, a rare, but mining band ! 
 Where'er unhappy virtue meets renown, 
 Where'er the name of love or fHendfiiip's known,. 
 Thou malt be ever fung ; taught by my lays, 
 Old men mall figh, and infants lifp thy praife, 
 And erfry age and nation Jh'all deplore 
 Tbe great men falfn^ the mighty new no more.
 
 POEMS on Jeveral occafions. 299 
 
 ft DAPHNIS. ^EPISTLE. 
 
 T\4PHNIS, among my deareft friends approv'd, 
 "^ And more by me than thy own mufes lov'd, 
 Whofe parts mature in nature's early bloom, 
 Gire certain hopes of miracles to come, 
 Of tender eloquence, and gentle lays, 
 And females crown'd with everlafting bays : 
 To thee I fing, than whom none more can know 
 From a foft lyre what heav'nly numbers flow. 
 Thou fcorn'ft with me thofe brutes, who rudely wiie, ^ 
 The whole creation's faireft part defpife ; ( 
 
 Thou too haft felt their pow'r, and own'd their con- f 
 qu'ring eyes : 
 
 Thou too, with me, wilt humble altars raife, 
 Nor blame my theme, nor envy at my praife. 
 
 OFT' have the mufes their own fex infpir'd, 
 And with a more than mortal ardor fir'd, 
 Taught them in wit and numbers to excel, 
 Nor yield to man alone the praife of writing welL 
 Corinna rival'd Pindar^ nobleft lays, 
 And gain'd by merit the contefted bays. 
 Old Greece the charming Sappho did: adore,. 
 And hardly boafted in her Homer more r 
 Still with her fires the love-fick virgins burn ; 
 Her lays they fmg, her tender griefs they mousn ; 
 Still celebrate her love and her defpair, 
 And cu>fe the villain, that betray'd the fair. 
 
 OK
 
 300 POEMS on federal occafions. 
 
 OF all the nymphs the Roman empire bore, 
 When great Jugujfus held the fov'reign pow'r, 
 None could Sulpitia equal, fhe alone 
 Of beauty and of wit could claim the throne ; 
 With ev'ry grace and ev'ry mufe adorn'd, "^ 
 
 A thoufand flaves fhe made, a thoufand fcorn'd, > 
 
 And in wild fires for coy Ccrinthus burn'd : J 
 
 He only her foft meafures could infpire, 
 For him fhe fung, for him fhe tun'd her lyre. 
 Long fmce death ended the fair tyrant's reign.j 
 Now not the ruins of her charms remain : 
 Devouring time has moulder'd all away^ 
 Nor left one atom of diftinguifh'd clay : 
 Yet ftill the charmer in her verfe fhall live, 
 And fhall to all eternity furvive ; 
 Still in her lays immortal beauties mine, 
 And kindle love and fire in every line. 
 
 BRITAIN, next Greece and Italy renown'd 
 For artful fongs, a difPrent fortune found. 
 When ancient Chaucer in unpolifh'd verfe 
 Did wond'rous tales with wond'rous art rehearfe j 
 When Spenfer in a myftic fairy fcene, 
 Proclaim' d the glories of the Virgin >ueen ; 
 When the great Shake/pear charm'd the lift'ning flage, 
 With Juliet's foftnefs, and Othello'* rage ; 
 When furly Ben with nicer judgment writ, 
 And bore from Greece and Rome the prize of comic wit j 
 No females could afpire to equal praife : 
 Then men alone poffefs'd the envy'd bays, 
 With haughty majefty unrival'd fhone, 
 Nor fear'd a fhe-pretender to the throne, 
 
 AT
 
 P'OEMS on federal occafiom. 30 r 
 
 AT lalt ('twas long indeed) OrinJa came, 
 To ages yet to come an ever glorious name ; 
 To virtuous themes her well-tun'd lyre fhe itrung. 
 Of virtuous themes in eafy numbers fung. 
 Horace and Pompey in her lines appear 
 With all the worth that Rome did once revere ; 
 Much to Corneille they owe, and much to her : 
 Her thoughts, her numbers, and her fire the fame, 
 She foar'd as high, and eqtial'd all his fame ; 
 Tho' France adores the bard, nor envies Greece 
 The coftly bufkins of her Stpboclei. 
 More we expefted, but untimely death 
 Soon ftopt her rifing glories, with her breath. 
 In her youth's prime the charming virgin dy'd-: 
 u4Jir<ea well Orindas place fupply'd. 
 fhaebits did ne'er before a breaft infpire 
 With larger portions of poetic fire : 
 On ev'ry fubjecl; fhe her art could prove,- 
 Well on each fubjeft fung, but beft of love ; 
 At once me fung, and felt the pleafing fmart, 
 Love in her numbers reign'd, and lorded in her heart. 
 With what amazing force the charmer writes 
 Of the dear paflion, and its fierce delights ?'* 
 Lefs tender fires the Cyprian Goddefs moves, 
 Lefs foft the amVous cooings of her doves. 
 Warm'd by her moving lays, the cruel fair 
 Learn to put on a more relenting air; 
 Indulge their lovers hopes, and pity their defpair : 
 Chill age is fir'd to unaccuftom'd heats, 
 The curdling blood a vig'rous courfe repeats, 
 And ev'ry pulfe with youthful ardor beats. 
 
 \ 
 
 O! had
 
 302 POEMS on federal occ a/ions'. 
 
 O ! had chafte tranfports filTd her virtuous mind,, 
 And to permitted pleafures moft inciin'd, 
 Sappho had yielded to her nobler fame, 
 And only Phi!omJ''s had been a brighter name : 
 But while too oft' her guilty fancy roves 
 To loofe defires, and wild, diforder'd loves ; 
 Unheeding minds with lewd ideas warms, 
 And gives adultery and inceft charms ; 
 The good and chafte abhor the vitious lays, 
 And hate the beauties they are forc'd to praife. 
 
 GODDESS of harmony, thy fuccour bring r 
 While I thy darling, Philomela, fing ! 
 In vain I call, nor hears the mufe my pray'r, 
 Hurry'd away by winds, and loft in air : 
 Nor, did (he hear, would aught her aid avail,. 
 Eeneath the mighty theme all numbers fail j 
 All numbers flag beneath her, but her own ; 
 She is fuffictent to herfelf alone. 
 Heav'ns ! how fhe charms ! how graceful is her mien! 
 Her countenance, how like her mind, ferene ! 
 Youth's livelieft bloom, a never-fading grace, 
 And more than beauty fparkles in her face. 
 How foon the willing heart her. empire feels ! 
 Each look, each air, each melting accent kills* 
 Yet the bright form creates no loofe defires j 
 At once (he gives, and purifies our fires, 
 And paflions chafte as her own foul infpires : 
 Her foul, Heav'n's nobleft workmanfhip, defign'd 
 Tb blefs a ruin'd age, and fuccour loft mankind^ 
 T-o prop abandon'd virtue's finking caufe, 
 To match from vice its undeferv'd applaufe, 
 
 To
 
 POEMS on fever al occafwns. 303- 
 
 To lead in piety's forfaken ways, 
 
 By bright example, and celeftial lays. 
 
 With what high tranfport, in thofe lays we find 
 
 Exprefs'd the imagfi of her godlike mind ? 
 
 How fmooth her drains ! how eafy flow her lines ' 
 
 Throughout the whole how vaft a genius fhines ! 
 
 Whate'er fhe writes, in ev'ry part we fee 
 
 d fir tea's fire, Onnda's purity; 
 
 And while her greater glories we admire, 
 
 Lefs pure's OrindiSs verfe, lefs fierce dftrteas fire, 
 
 If fhe defcribes the youthful conqu'ror's charms, 
 
 That gave her liberty unknown alarms ; 
 
 If of the faithlefs Thero'n fhe complains, 
 
 And fir'd with juft refentmenr, breaks her chains j 
 
 Our fouls with her begin, and ceafe to love, 
 
 And ev'ry paffion learns from her to move : 
 
 Or if fhe rather tries the rural lays, 
 
 And in a country drefs immortal charms difplays ; 
 
 Our fouls th' inchanting founds tranfported hear, 
 
 Nor Mantua now, nor Sicily prefer : 
 
 With her we feek the defolate abodes, y 
 
 The fimple manfions of the ruftic Gods ; > 
 
 We fliun the city, and we court the woods. 3 
 
 If fhe with TaJJo fmgs the Chrijlian chief, 
 
 Who, fent by Heav'n to a loft realm's relief, 
 
 While hell and hellifh men in vain withftand^ 
 
 Freed from bafe fervitude the holy land : 
 
 Or in a fofter and more melting ftrain, -\ 
 
 Repeats thro' ev'ry grove, and ev'ry plain, V 
 
 The conftant paffion of the Faithful Snvain j >. 
 
 Unnumber'd beauties in each part we view> 
 
 And gracs Itaij itfeif ne'er knew: 
 
 Other
 
 304 P'o E M s on federal occafiom.. 
 
 Other tranflations we faint copies call, 
 But what (he writes is all original. 
 But when in more exalted lays ftie brings 
 A pious off'ring to the King of kings, 
 Not purer- fweets Sabtean hills fupply, 
 Or with more grateful odours glad the fky. 
 The feraphs hover in the ambient air> 
 Nor think a mortal form inhabits there ; 
 Amaz'd, awhile they leave the Harry throne, 
 To fee on earth fo pure devotion fhewn, 
 And wonder at a ftrain fo very like their own. 
 
 DAPHNIS, dear youth, to whom propitious Heav'n 
 A kind retreat from noife and cares has giv'n, 
 Near the calm feat, pure ilream, and verdant lhade, 
 Bleft by the prefence of the matchlefs maid* 
 Content enjoy the bleflings of thy fate, 
 Pity the- wretches who are curft and great. 
 Let the proud Gaul for boundlefs fway contend, y,. 
 'Till with his life his dire ambition end ; > 
 
 'Tis more than empire to be Singer's friend ? J 
 
 Q would hard fortune, .which has fix'd me down 
 To the detefted hurries of the town, . 
 Relenting, change my haplefs deftiny, 
 Grant fome few lucky hours, and make me bleft like 
 
 thee ! 
 
 Td to the charming folitude repair, 
 There wait a glad attendant on the fair, 
 There on her lovely lips with tranfport dwell, 
 And catch each tender accent as it fell j 
 'Till new inform'd, and kindling from her eyes, 
 Sure ev'n my grov'ling foul, at length, mould learn to\ 
 rife. Then
 
 POEMS on federal occajionr. 305^ 
 
 Then in each grove, near ev'ry purling ftream, 
 
 Bright Philomel fhould be my conftant theme, 
 
 In numbers like her own the nymph I'd praife, 
 
 And equal the vaft fubjecT: with my lays. 
 
 The fylvan Gods to hear my notes fiiould throng, 
 
 And filent rivers Men to my fong } 
 
 To all the hills,, and vales,, and graves around 
 
 The babbling echo mould repeat the found, 
 
 And Amaryllis'' felf be lefs renown'd. 
 
 An EPISTLE to CLIMENE. 
 Imitated from the French of Madame D E s 
 
 HOULIERES 
 
 STILL muft we mourn your abfence? ftill complain, 
 And court you from your fad retreat in vain ? 
 When teeming earth with fruitful moifture fed, 
 Brings forth new flow'rs to deck the paths you tread ; 
 When each returning morn mines doubly bright, 
 And each cool ev'ning brings a charming night, 
 The country {hades may yield a foft delight : 
 But when o'er all the favage winter reigns, 
 Makes bare the groves, and defolates the plains ; 
 When nature's face is chang'd, and ev'ry day 
 Snatches fome poor, decaying charm away, 
 'Tis downright madnefs,. Climene, to flay. 
 What new unheard-of pleafures can you find ? 
 What ilrange delights to entertain your mind
 
 306 POEMS on federal 
 
 Or do important reafons force your will, 
 
 And to the gloomy fcene confine you ftill ? 
 
 I guefs the mighty caufe : You fear to prove, 
 
 In this vile town, the dreadful thing call'd love. 
 
 The little tyrant reigns amidft the fport, 
 
 The fin iles and pleafures of the town and court t 
 
 Nor only there, him ev'n the wilds obey, 
 
 And country defarts own his awful fway. 
 
 In vain to woods and folitudes we fly, 
 
 In vain the city change for purer fky ; 
 
 More dang'rous ev'n than courts, the (hades may prove, 
 
 And with more eafe admit th' invader love. 
 
 Wild was the place, and favage all around, 
 
 Where fair Angelica young Medor found ; 
 
 Severe the dame, and grave, and fternly coy, 
 
 Am'rous, and foft, and tender was the boy : 
 
 You know the reft. Then hafte from your abodes* 
 
 Leave the weak fhelter of the fields and woods : 
 
 come, and in a thoufand breafts iafpire 
 Succefslefs rage, and unavailing fire ! 
 
 Nor dread th' effects of all their treach'rous arts^, 
 Their boafted ftratagems to conquer hearts ; 
 Unlefs the fates affift, their moving tale 
 Will never o'er your native cold prevail. 
 To prove this true,, believe the tale I tell^ 
 Not oracles more facred truths reveal. 
 
 As wand'ring penfrve thro' the filent groves,. 
 
 1 meditate my forrows and my loves, 
 Dapbnis, the terror of our woods, I view ; 
 A mightier name love's empire never knew : 
 
 None
 
 POEMS on fever at occajions. 3 07 
 
 None e'er fo well a haughty breaft could tame, 
 Or warm to fires unknown the coldeft dame. 
 Proftrate before a heedlefs fair he lies, 
 Sheds fruitlefs tears, and waftes a thoafand fighs ; 
 Then love and forrow pleading in his look, 
 Thus to the cruel nymph the charmer fpoke. 
 
 How long, my fair, will you your fate delay ? 
 Still will you idly wafte the pretious day, 
 And in indiff'rence loiter life away ? 
 Hear always with contempt my tender theme, 
 Delpife love's pleafures, and his pow'r blaspheme ? 
 Ah, no ! the joys my paffion courts in vain, 
 Another fhepherd with more eafe will gain ; 
 His happier flame will your fierce pride remove, 
 Subdue your ftubborn heart, and melt it all to love. 
 All nature owns the God : In barb'rous plains, 
 Where half the year is night, and cold eternal reigns, ' 
 The frozen race is warmM to foft defires, 
 And feels in ev'ry vein the genial fires. 
 However diftant, the dread hour muft come, 
 Which all your fading beauties will refume : 
 Then in a juft revenge, th' offended boy 
 May give his fuff'rings, and with-hold his joy ; 
 Send a frefli warmth, as ev'ry charm decays, 
 And wild defires, you want the pow'r to raife. 
 Ah, nymph ! the horror of this fate prevent, 
 Appeafe the angry God, and yet in time repent. 
 Let taftelefs age th' ecftatic blifs defpife, 
 Grow coldly grave, and ftoically wife; 
 Do you, my fair, while blooming youth invites 
 To warmer fentiments, and gay delights, 
 
 Your
 
 3-oS POEMS on fever al occajions. 
 
 Your fcorn and dull indifPrence difpofleft, 
 Receive the gentle tyrant to your breaft ; 
 Reward a conftant flame,, and yield to prove 
 The mighty- tr anfports of a mutual love : 
 No other folid bleflings mortals know,- 
 Nor Heav'n can on its fav'rites more bellow, 
 To give a tafte of its own joys below. 
 
 HE ceas'd. The neighboring echoes caught the found, 
 The little birds fung tender notes around'; 
 The lift'ning. waves in gentle murmurs move, 
 And ev'ry balmy Zephyr whifper'd love : 
 Vet her cold heart in filence heard his pain j 
 When the heart's filent, all things fpeak in vain; 
 
 CAP R ICE. 
 
 From the fame. 
 
 NEAR a pare ftream, beneath a cooling (hade* 
 Charming retreat ! the penfive Iris ftray'd j 
 Iris, a name to diftant nations known, 
 By her fam'd verfe's beauties, and her own : 
 Heedlefs (he rov'd ; for, nor the murm'ring found 
 f the fmooth waves, nor flow'rs that deck'd the 
 
 ground, 
 
 Nor the birds tender fangs could charm the fair, 
 Or eafe her gloomy thoughts, and melancholy care. 
 
 Atr
 
 POEMS on federal occafiom. 309 
 
 Ax laft flie cries, Fond love, I own no more 
 Thy awful tyranny, and boafted pow'r ; 
 No more thro' thee tumultuous fears arife, 
 Pain my torn breaft, and fwell my ftreaming eyes ; 
 A native coldnefs .reigns in ev'ry part, 
 And all is calm and quiet in my heart : 
 But ah ! how poorly I that calmnefs tafte, 
 Forc'd to regret ev'n all my fuff'rings paft] 
 .Alas ! th' unwary foul but litde knows, 
 That wifhes for the bleffings of repofe : 
 In the fad ftate of iulenefs and eafe, 
 When nothing bufies, nothing too can pleafe. 
 The treach'rous tyrant, love, lefs faintly charms, 
 Sweet are his ills, and pleafing .all his harms : 
 The mind each moment to delights improves ; 
 For all is pleafure to a heart that loves. 
 In what a tedious round of griefs he lives, 
 Who, wretched, his own tendernefs furvives ? 
 Can one who ever felt an am'rous pain, 
 Unloving life's vexatious load fuftain ? 
 Lofe ev'ry ling' ring hour, and wafte away, 
 in dull, unaftive indolence the day ? 
 Ah, no ! return, foft God, refume thy reign, 
 
 Bring all thy fires to kindle mine again 
 
 Alas ! thou wilt not come, and all my calls are vain. 
 Cruel ! thou cam'ft an uninvited gueft, 
 And mad'ft, unfought, a pafiage to my breaft : 
 Now thou canft all my pray'rs and vows defpife, 
 And fcorn to gain a weak, inglorious prize. 
 I aflc not for the tranfports thofe poflefs 
 Whom thau with foiling fates, and mutual loves do/I 
 blefs. 
 
 The
 
 3 io POEMS on federal occafxms. 
 
 The barb'rous, charming youth that rulM my heart, 
 Has taught me all thy rigour, and thy fmart ; 
 Heedleis of mine, in other flames he burns, 
 And hate, or worfe indifference, returns. 
 The joy of being lov'd I ne'er can prove ; 
 I afk no other now, but that of love. 
 Have not my fears and my alarms been vain ? 
 How am I fure that I have broke my chain ? 
 Don't I, while I defire, already feel the pain ? 
 
 What (hall I do ? what method take to find 
 The true condition of my floating mind ? 
 See, while I fpeak, the dear ungrateful come ! 
 His prefence clears my doubts, and fixes all my doom. 
 I view the lovely fwain ; his fight infpires 
 Soft melting thoughts, and raging fierce defires, 
 And all my foul conceives the well known fires. 
 Welcome, ye boundlefs griefs, and racking pains ! 
 Welcome, ye ne'er-to-be-forgotten chains ! 
 Amidft confufion, horror, and defpair, 
 
 Studious I'll feed the dear diftrafting care, ( 
 
 And thank thee, gracious Love, that well haft heard | 
 my pray'r. 4 
 
 .* PINDARV
 
 P o EMS on federal occafions. 311 
 
 * PINDAR'; Ode to PROSERPINE. 
 
 Vranjlated from the French of Monfieur 
 de la Motte. 
 
 InfcriVd to the Rev. Mr. John Ruflel. 
 
 I. 
 
 BRIDE of the gloomy king, whofe awful fway 
 The dreadful realms of night obey, 
 By unrelenting fate at laft 
 Upon thine empire I am caft, 
 The dreary banks of Styx I've paft : 
 'Tis time my faithful made mould pay 
 The tributary verfe I owe, 
 And what above I promised, give below. 
 Goddefs, liften to thy praife, 
 Liften to no vulgar lays, 
 Fix'd in dumb attention hear 
 The nobleft founds that ever reach'd thine ear. 
 
 Not 
 
 * As an incorreft copy of this ode has been prin- 
 ted under the name of another gentleman, who pre- 
 tends not only to have corre&ed feveral errors, but to 
 have really written many lines in it j 'tis abfblutely necef- 
 fary, in juftice to Mr. 'Roive, to affure the public that 
 they are indebted to that editor for no more than two 
 lines, and the alteration of a very few words in this 
 poem ; and that (excepting the removal of one or two ex- 
 jpletives) it is now publifhed exaftly as the author wrote it.
 
 31:} P'O'EMS on fever al occafwns. 
 
 Not the fam'd f Tbracian bard, who bold by love, 
 
 Could change relentlefs deftiny, 
 And ev'n thy foul to tender foftnefs move, 
 E'er touch'd the lyre fo well, or ftrain'd a note fo high. 
 
 Lefs than my charming numbers pleafe 
 
 The treach'rous * mufes of the feas ; 
 
 'Tho' with an art unerring, they 
 The lift'ning mariners betray : 
 In vain before their eyes they view. 
 Deluded wretches their own death purfue, 
 
 The death they would not wi(h to fhun ; 
 Charm 'd to the foft delicious fate they run, 
 And long to be themfelves fo pleafmgly undone. 
 
 IT. 
 
 TTPHOEUS, whofe vaft bulk and monftrous pride 
 
 Omnipotence itfelf defy'd, 
 
 By fad experience taught to kno# 
 Th' unbounded force of an almighty foe, 
 
 Under all Sicily oppfeft, 
 Feels hills, and plains, and realms lie heavy on his breafl. 
 
 Oft' ftruggling yet, he moves the ground ; 
 
 Fierce ^Etna. vomits fulph'rous fmoke, 
 
 And cities fink beneath the mock, 
 And his wide prifon trembles all around. 
 
 The God of darknefs trembled too ; 
 He fear'd left op'ning earth admitting light, 
 
 With dazzling terrors and affright, 
 Should fill the pale inhabitants of night, 
 And his dire fecrets mow to public view j 
 
 . 
 
 ,. 
 
 + Orpheus. * The Syrens. 
 
 i Whfle
 
 POEMS en federal occafions. 313 
 
 While the bright God would with his piercing ray 
 Invade th' eternal gloom, and fcatter boundlefs day. 
 
 III. 
 
 Wi T H careful hafte the frighted God 
 
 Vifits the upper air, and gains 
 
 The fertile Syracujian plains, 
 And Fergus 1 banks made bleft by thy abode. 
 
 There quickly all his anxious fear 
 
 A fofter paffion did remove, 
 
 And turn'd his ftubborn foul to love : 
 
 Jlluftrious triumph of thine eyes t 
 
 In one mort moment he draws near, 
 He fees, he loves, he bears away the prize. 
 
 IV. 
 O BEAR companions of my virgin joys! 
 
 O mother dearer than them all ! 
 
 O all ye kindred Deities ! 
 And thou, great Sire, the ruler of the Ikies, 
 Hafte to my aid, and fave me when I call ! 
 
 Vain regrets, and fruitlefs cries ! 
 The earth divides to make the monarch way ; 
 
 And foon the fad Tartarean more 
 With wond'ring joy receives the beauteous prey, 
 Its Chappy lord from jnjur'd Ceres bore. 
 
 V. 
 
 HEAV'NS ! what wild cares her foul oppreft ! 
 
 What rage her breaft infpires f 
 See ! in JEtnean furnaces 
 
 She lights avenging fires, 
 
 VOL. II. 9 Unhappy
 
 314 POEMS on federal occajjons-. 
 
 Unhappy ifland .' defolated plain ! 
 
 Fruitful and promifing in vain F 
 
 Thou faw'ft her raging hand 
 
 Burn riling crops, a grateful load, 
 Spread wide deftruftion o'er her fav'rite land, 
 And ruin all the bleffings it beftow'd, 
 
 VI. 
 
 COLD, dull reafon, hence! begone! 
 
 A noble madnefs feize my mind, 
 
 Tranfports to vulgar breafts unknown ; 
 Wild and roving be my fire, 
 
 My numbers loofe and unconfin'd, 
 As when above I charm'd, and touch'd th' audacious lyre, 
 
 I would not pleafe by artful lays ; 
 
 Let others curious gardens praife. 
 Their nice exa&nefs does but tire my fight, 
 
 And lefs than happy chance delight ; 
 
 I love the foreft's wafte retreat, 
 
 Where all's irregularly great ; 
 Where nature, uncorre&ed, unfupply'd, 
 Profufely lavifnes her bounteous pride, 
 The foreign aids of fervile art difdains, 
 And beauteous in her own diforder reigns. 
 
 VII. 
 
 GODDESS, all thy pow'r muft own, 
 All muft bend before thy throne : 
 Pious pray'rs may move the fkies, 
 And angry Jove is pleas'd with facrifice ; 
 But nor pray'rs, nor piety, 
 ISfor facrifice preferves from thee. 
 
 The
 
 POEMS en fever al occafions. 3 1 5 
 
 The fons of art, with fruitlefs care, 
 
 The tott'ring building may repair : 
 Quickly the feeble ruins fink away, 
 
 And moulder into common clay ; 
 Themfelves too yield at laft, and thy flern force obey. 
 Thetis, who ftudious her great fon to fave, 
 
 Doom'd long before to fall at Troy, 
 
 Dipt him all o'er in Styx's wave, 
 Yet left a place for fate, and mourri'd the daring boy. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 How numerous are the worlds of dead. 
 
 That o'er thy vaft domain are fpread ! 
 
 New nations every moment land, 
 
 And cover all the fpacious ftrand. 
 The ftubborn deftinies no mercy mow; 
 
 All mankind ('tis fate's decree, 
 
 And fix'd as fate itfelf can be) 
 
 Muft people the dark realms below. 
 Grandeur, courage, learning, wtt 
 
 To thy refiftlefs laws fubmit : 
 The king and beggar (hare an equal doom ; 
 
 The mightieft conqu'rors muft come, 
 To join the crowds they vanquifh'd, in the tonab. 
 
 Vainly, tuneful bards, ye ftrive 
 To gain that immortality you give ; 
 In vain you-feek to fhield your deftin'd head, 
 
 In vain by meaner worth would fave 
 
 Your finking carcafe from the grave ; 
 Dare ye to hope for life, when Pindar's felf is dead ? 
 
 P* IX, IN-
 
 3 1 6 POEMS on fever al occafiom.. 
 
 IX. 
 INEXORABLE Queen, thy force proclaim, 
 
 In fullen majefty maintain 
 
 Thy dreaded, on iverfal reign, 
 Nor own imperial Juno** greater name. 
 Only my verfe (hall with thy pow'r engage, 
 Dare all thy might, and brave thy feebler rage; 
 
 My verfe, which fpight of fate, and thee, 
 
 Shall pleafe to all eternity. 
 
 Let Gods averfe, and hoftile-pow'rs 
 
 Level with earth Thebes' lofty tow'rs ; 
 
 Still the more lafting notes I fung, 
 
 My country's ryins fhall furvive, 
 
 And rev'renc'd even by foes mail live, 
 Charm ev'ry ear, and dwell on ev'ry tongue. 
 
 X. 
 
 BUT hark ! what founds are thefe I hear ? 
 
 What other mufic wounds my ear ? 
 Heav'ns ! 'tis Corinna fings ! too well I know 
 The rival lyre, and lovely, conqu'ring foe. 
 
 Ah ! 'tis too much, infulting maid f 
 To hope a fecond triumph o'er my made : 
 No longer thou in thofe bright charms canft truft, 
 Which forc'd ev'n rev'rend age to be unjuft ; 
 Thy pow'rful eyes no longer plead thy caufe, 
 Prevent all cenfure, and fecure applaufe. 
 See, while I fpeak, thy weaknefs all appear ! 
 Only the. vulgar dead, a namelefs throng, 
 About thee crowd, and Men to thy fong ; 
 While all th' illuftrious Ihades my numbers hear ; 
 
 Orj>bef t
 
 P o E M s on federal ocwfiom. 3 17 
 
 Orpheus, who firft infpir'd the vocal lyre, 
 
 Homer, the Grecian mufe's fire, 
 And the gay * Teian bard attend my lays ; 
 And by their filence beft proclaim my praife. 
 
 XL 
 
 MY charming mufic can afTuage 
 
 The triple-headed monfter's rage ; 
 Gentle at my feet he lies, 
 
 No longer threatens with his eyes ; 
 And all his ears are bufy on the notes 
 That flop the yellings of his idle throats. 
 Here Sifyphus, with endlefs toil oppreft, 
 Leans on th' unmoving ftone, and fliares a paufe of reft* 
 Fix'd on my voice, there the dire -f- Sifters lie, 
 Their empty veffels ftand negledled by. 
 
 Ev'n the ftern Minos, for a while, 
 His rugged vifage foften'd to a fmile a 
 
 Puts off the judge, and yields to give 
 The trembling criminals a ihort reprieve. 
 
 The fates, that never pity knew, 
 
 Are foften'd into pity too ; 
 And negligent to cut the tender thread, 
 Rob hell awhile of its appointed dead. 
 
 See ! ev'n the Furies lift'ning ftand, 
 And on my fongs intent, 
 
 Forget the care of punimment ; 
 And each avenging whip drops gently from their hand. 
 
 Anacreon. f The Belides. 
 
 P 3 XII. THUS,
 
 318 POEMS on federal occafions. 
 xir. 
 
 THUS, Rufel, in the fhades below, 
 
 The godlike Tbeban tun'd his lyre ; 
 While the fad ghofts th' inchanting founds admire, 
 And unknown pleafures fill the realms of woe. 
 Alas ! in vain I would thy judgment cheat, 
 
 Thou feeft thro' all the thin deceit ; 
 Thou feeft my trifling rage, and counterfeited fire. 
 
 O ! were my foul, like thine, pofleft 
 Of all the nobleft treafures of the Eajl j 
 
 Could there in each well polifh'd line 
 Appear a genius as refin'd as thine ; 
 Were all my verfe like thy juft language ftrong^ 
 
 And foft as when thy moving tongue 
 Charms every paffion of th' attentive throng j 
 
 My daring mufe fhould never fall 
 
 Beneath its vaft original j 
 Like the * Dlrcaan fwan I'd nobly rife, 
 Spurn the dull earth, and foar above the fkies : 
 The difference ev'n by thee mould fcarce be known, 
 And the great bard himfelf my equal numbers own. 
 
 * PinAar.
 
 POEMS on federal occafions. 3 19 
 
 An ODE. To DELIA. 
 I. 
 
 ETERNAL God, whofe awful pow'r 
 The trembling feraphs own ; 
 
 When proftrate low before thy throne, 
 
 With cover'd faces they adore, 
 
 And fing thro 1 all the vaults above, 
 The wonders of thy grace, and glories of thy love : 
 
 How vaft the pleafures f how intenfe ! 
 That from thy throne in living torrents roll j 
 
 How well they ravifh ev'ry fenfe, 
 
 And fill up all the foul ! 
 Where happy minds repos'd in thy embrace, 
 Unveil'd behold the fplendor of thy face, 
 
 And in ineffable delight, 
 
 Feaft on thy love, and on thy fight 
 
 Thro' all eternity employ 
 Their pow'rs fublime, and equal to their joy. 
 
 II. 
 
 FAIN would the humble mufe afpirc, 
 
 And to celeftial tranfports tune her lyre ; 
 
 But ah ! in vain her ftrength me tries, 
 
 Feeble and faint, ihe dreads the fldes, 
 
 And finks the more, the more (he ftrives to rife. 
 
 My foul too finks, as well as me, 
 Forgets its own immortal pedigree, 
 
 P 4 Forgets
 
 320 POEMS on feveral occafions. 
 
 Forgets the Jkies, its native feat, 
 
 And grov'ling low in duft and clay, 
 
 Heedlefs of aught divinely great, 
 
 It waftes the precious hours away, 
 
 In joys that fly as fwift as they. 
 
 The finful fiefli, a heavy load, 
 
 Drags down the bright, immortal part; 
 Weakens its pow'rs, and fixes all the heart 
 
 Far from its heav'n, and from its God : 
 Terreftrial objefls ev'ry rapture move, 
 
 For them alone it learns to love, 
 For them with eafe negleds the diftant joys abovr 
 
 in. 
 
 DEL 1A> whom propitious Heav'n 
 The fofteft cure for my worft ills has giv'-n.j, 
 To aid in wand'ring thro' life's tedious road, 
 
 To banifli horror and defpair, 
 
 Tear from my heart each wildeft care, 
 
 And lighten more than half its load ; 
 
 Look down with pity on my ftate, 
 
 And help, as you compaffionate. 
 
 Thou art my only hope below : 
 
 Where'er I ftand, where'er I go, 
 'Tis all inchanted ground ; 
 
 Temptations ev'ry where abound, 
 And fnares, and baits, and darknefs all around. 
 
 Inticing vice, with fatal charms, 
 
 Tempts me from virtue's noble toils,, 
 
 To her dellru&ive arms : 
 With what a grace the Sjnn fmiles ?. 
 
 Hew
 
 P o M s on federal occa/Jons. 321 
 
 How fair her painted face ! 
 
 Eager I gaze myfelf away, 
 Long her bewitching dictates to obey, 
 And rum to mis'ry in the foft embrace. 
 
 Thou art my guide, and if thou lead, 
 Ev'n yet, perhaps, I virtue's paths may tread, 
 Trace without fear the bright, but toilfome way ; 
 If thou negleft thy Care, infallibly I ftray. 
 Thus if a poor, benighted traveller 
 Sees in the gloomy fkies one friendly ftar, 
 
 He bleffes the aufpicious light ; 
 
 Then thro' the horrors of the night, 
 With cautious fteps purfues his doubtful way, 
 And patient waits the flow approach of day. 
 
 IV. 
 
 How ftrange, alas, my frailties be I 
 
 I find temptations ev'n in thee : 
 Diffolv'd in blifs, and melting in thy arms, 
 I lofe the relifli of celeftial charms ; 
 On thee alone my wand'ring thoughts employ, 
 And loft in thee, forget fuperior joy. 
 
 O thou whofe unrefifted fway 
 
 My wildeft paffions ftill obey ! 
 Ufe all thy pow'r, each bafer thought controul, 
 Raife juft defires, and regulate my foul j 
 Inftrucl my feeble fancy to conceive 
 Joys above all that earth, or thou canft give. 
 O couldft thou to my frozen breaft infpire 
 
 One fpark of thy own heav'nly fire ; 
 That I too might th' immortal tranfports know. 
 And more than tafte a paradife below I 
 
 P 5 Scarce
 
 322 POEMS 077 feveral occafiom. 
 
 Scarce the bright cherubs, or the bleft above 
 
 A more celeftial ardor prove ; 
 
 Scarce all their harps, and all their lays, 
 
 Their great Creator better praife, 
 Or reach in loftier notes the triumphs of his love. 
 
 WHENE'ER I read the moving lines, 
 Where well expreft the lofty fubjeft mines, 
 
 I fee the joys I mould purfue, 
 And all the flues are open'd to my view : 
 
 Hail, happy realms .' divine abode ! 
 
 Hail, manfions worthy your creator, God? 
 
 And can a mortal then poflefs 
 
 A place in your bright palaces ? 
 Who could refufe, fuch glories to obtain, 
 
 A few fhort hours of toil or pain ? 
 The martyrs gain'd you thro' a bloody way, 
 
 Sure I could dare as well as they ; 
 With vig'rous zeal in virtue's caufe engage, 
 And item the torrent of a vitious age. 
 Inchanting vice no more my foul (hall warm ; 
 I fee the fiend reveal'd in open light, 
 Heav'ns ! how the hideous form offends my fight f 
 Amaz'd T fhrink away, and wonder me could charm. 
 
 How foon the noble warmth's decay'd .' 
 
 How foon the gen'rous raptures fade ! 
 I ceafe to read ; and now they are no more, 
 And I grow faint and wretched, as before. 
 O help me (till ! let the great theme you've fung 
 S:i!J entertain your thoughts, and dwell upon your tongue. 
 
 Whene'er
 
 POEMS on fever at occafions. 323 
 
 Whene'er I fink, whene'er I fall, 
 
 Attempt the heavily ftrain, 
 Again my fpirits to jult heights recall, 
 Touch ev'ry fprightly firing, and raife my foul again. 
 
 VI. 
 
 So may pure joys crown each returning day, 
 Soft be thy nights, and ev'ry dream be gay ; 
 Roll fmooth each hour, thy breaft no trouble prove, 
 But the kind, gentle cares of mutual love ! 
 
 So long may thy infpiring page, 
 And bright example blefs the rifing age ; 
 Long in thy charming prifon mayft thou Hay, 
 Late, very late, afcend the well-known way, 
 And add new glories to the realms of day! 
 At leaft, Heav'n will not, fure, this pray'r deny ; 
 
 Short be my life's uncertain date, 
 And earlier long than thine the deftin'd hour of fate [ 
 
 Whene'er it comes, may'ft thou be by, 
 Support my finking frame, and teach me how to die ; 
 Banifli defponding nature's gloom, 
 Make me to hope a gentle doom, 
 And fix me all on joys to come ! 
 With fwimming eyes I'll gaze upon thy charms, 
 And clafp thee, dying, in my fainting arms ; 
 
 Then gently leaning on thy breaft, 
 Sink in foft flumbers to eternal reft; 
 Without a groan refign my breath, 
 Nor flirink at the cold arms of death ; 
 The ghaftly form mail have a pleafmg air, 
 And all things fmile, while Heav'n and thou art there. 
 
 VII. Now
 
 324 POEMS on federal occajions. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Now of immortal crowns pofieft, 
 Humbly adoring with th' inferior bleft, 
 
 I'll leave each mortal care below ; 
 Only my love for thee {hall ne'er a period know. 
 Whenever ftorms are threat'ning, I'll be near, 
 Avert the danger, and prevent thy fear j 
 Oft' mingle with the bright, descending throngs, 
 
 And learn from thine to raife my fongs. 
 Then, when thou muft at laft refign to fate, 
 
 On thy departing foul I'll wait, 
 
 With ftudious pleafure guide my fair 
 
 Thro' the firft paths of blifsful air ; 
 Then, led by thee, purfue a loftier road, 
 
 To upper regions daring foar, 
 
 Vaft realms of blifs unknown before, 
 
 Heav'n's inmoft palaces explore, 
 And bear th' enjoyment of a fmiling God. 
 New pow'rs, new graces (hall adorn- my mind, 
 Almoft like thine exalted and refin'd : 
 
 My flame mail with my ftrength improve ; 
 
 While we a tuneful off'ring bring, 
 (For taught by thee, I too fhall fing) 
 And blefs thxo' Qndkfs years the Fountain of our lave.
 
 POEMS on fever al occafions. 325 
 
 An ODE on LIBERTY. 
 I. 
 
 BRIGHTEST offspring of the fkies, 
 Great fource, from whence to hapleis mortals flow 
 Pleafures fincere and noble joys, 
 And ev'ry real bleffing left below, 
 Immortal Liberty! to thee 
 The tribute of my voice I bring j 
 Goddefs, accept the difproportion'd praife, 
 Accept the well-defigning lays, 
 
 Mean and humble tho' they be, 
 And wrong the mighty theme they fing r 
 Others may better plead thy glorious caufe, 
 By loftier ftrains iecure of juft applaufe ; 
 But none could e'er admire thy beauties more, 
 Or with a purer zeal at thy bleft fhrine adore. 
 
 II. 
 
 OF his own image thee, the nobleft part,. 
 
 To new-born man th' Almighty gave;- 
 
 Thee deep infix'd within his breaft, 
 The principle of all that's good and brave. 
 And well on earth thy dictates were purfu'd r 
 
 When mining with unfallied grace 
 
 His work the pleas'd Creator view'd, 
 
 And bleft a well deferring race, 
 
 Bkft
 
 -326 POEMS on fever al occafom. 
 
 Bleft the riling golden age ; 
 
 Too foon, alas ! it ceas'd, fucceeded impious rage : 
 '-And vile, degenerate men deferv'd to be 
 Hated of Heav'n, and ignorant of th.ee. 
 
 III. 
 To endlefs ages be the monfter curft, 
 
 That banifti'd thee from nations firft ? 
 Who for fond notions of unbounded pow'r, 
 (Heav Vs right alone) defpis'd a lawful fway ; 
 Could think it great to ruin and devour, 
 And force unwilling wretches to obey. 
 
 Nor lefs reproaches load his head, 
 Be he the fcorn of all th' illuftrious dead f 
 Who firft could live and be a flave, 
 With fervile awe could bear unbroke 
 On his bafe neck the galling yoke ; 
 Nay more (ye Pow'rs!) could blefs the tyrant's reign, 
 
 Submit with pleafure to his fate, 
 Praife the dire ills of arbitrary flate, 
 Thy facred name blafpheme, and hug the hated chain. 
 
 How far unlike thofe fouls, that form'd 
 Of purer mold, of more celeftial day, 
 By thy great rules had all their bofoms warm'd, 
 And made impatient of unequal fway, 
 Were born in happy climes above the reft 
 Of loft abandon'd men, by thy bright prefence bleft ! 
 O Goddefs ! could I feel but half the fire 
 That caus'd the deathlefs actions I admire, 
 
 Thro/
 
 POEMS on fever al occ a/tons. 3.27 
 
 Thro' which unmov'd thy vot'ries flood 
 
 Still true to honour, and to thee, 
 Efpous'd thy caufe, and lavifh of their bloody 
 Run thro' a thoufand certain deaths, to fct their country 
 free ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 I'D ling their deeds, and ling thy praife, 
 
 In fuch vaft, fuch lofty lays j 
 That not alone the neighb'ring hills around, 
 But heav'n's wide arch fhould echo to the found : 
 
 Tyrants fhould hear the moving ftrain, 
 
 Tyrants in nations yet unknown, 
 
 Should fcatter blefiings from the throne, 
 And try the pleasures of a gentle reign ; 
 
 And crowds of fenfelefs flaves again, 
 
 Strange miracle ! fhould turn to men. 
 
 V. 
 
 ALL other fuccour I refufe ; 
 My glorious theme, be thou alone my mufe f 
 
 The humbleft bard, if thou infpire, 
 
 Shall touch the firing, and tune the lyre, 
 And kindle to a more than mortal fire ; 
 
 With forces not his own mall rife, 
 
 Leave far tke airy Alps below, 
 And mountains rev'rend with eternal fnow, 
 And foar with daring flight above th' inferior flues. 
 
 VI. 
 
 U N j u s T L Y . we Apollo praife, 
 Author of verfe, and God of lays; 
 
 Nor
 
 328 POEMS 0// federal occafions, 
 
 Nor he to Linus did his art infufe, 
 
 Nor Orpheus learn'd it from his parent mufe : 
 
 Can aught or great or charming be, 
 
 That knows another fource than thee ? 
 
 By thee the firft of poets taught, 
 
 (Whom Heav'n a great deliv'rer gave, 
 
 Jfraer$ favorite fons to fave) 
 Sung the ftupendous miracles he wrought : 
 He fung a race by long oppreflion broke, 
 And funk beneath, the curft Egyptian yoke, 
 Set free, and led from out the barb'rous land, 
 By figns furpafiing faith, and HeavVs extended Band,. 
 Yet fo deliver'd, that they feem to be 
 Abandon'd to more certain mifery ; 
 
 They view the raging fea before. 
 
 With angry billows lafn the fHore ; 
 
 Their foes, more dreadful, urge behind, 
 And eager on their prey, outftrip the wind. 
 In vain your chariots and your hofts purfue, 
 Almighty vengeance flies more fwifc than you. 
 
 The fea retir'd with joyful hafte, 
 
 While thro' its depths the Hebrews paft j 
 
 Yet with more joy turn'd back its waves, 
 T* o'erwhelm the tyrant, and his herd of flaves.. 
 
 VII. 
 
 THINE too the numbers, when his awful tongue 
 Call'd heav'n and earth to Men to his fong, 
 
 To hear a tale, a fight to view, 
 Strange beyond thought,, beyond example new:- 
 
 A peoplf
 
 POEMS en federal tccafions. 329 
 
 A people proud by Heav'n's prote&ion made, 
 Secure amidft {unrounding troops of foes, 
 Thro' wilds unknown and tracklefs defarts Jed, 
 To victory, to freedom, and repofe : 
 To whom the rocks gave water, bread the ikies ; 
 And ev'ry flighteft want found fure fupplies 
 
 From never-ceafing prodigies ; 
 
 Bafe and ungrateful muraiur'd ftill, 
 
 Scorn'd to be fav'd againft their will, 
 
 Mourn'd in warm tears their broken chain, 
 And wifh'd for naufeous fiavery again. 
 
 Well, wretches ! you {hall quickly prove 
 
 The bleffings of the ftate you love ; 
 
 Soon will your crimes the Heav'ns provoke 
 
 To curfe you with a foreign yoke. 
 Then your repentant grief and ardent pray'r, 
 Will reach yon azure vault, and ev'ry God that's there j 
 
 The Pow'rs will lend a pitying ear, 
 
 The Pow'rs, tho' much incens'd, will hear : 
 
 Commiffion'd heroes fhall arife, 
 
 Arm'd with the vengeance of the fkies ; 
 Whofe righteous force (hall the loft nation fave, 
 And make fierce tyrants, in their turn, feel all the woe* 
 
 they gave. 
 Th 1 event confirm'd his words ; of peace poffeft, 
 
 Weakened by luxury and reft, 
 By Heav'n abandon'd, by thernfelves betray'd ; 
 They fell an helplefs prey to all that durft invade ; 
 Then great deliv'rers to their refcue came ; 
 A {hining lift, each glorious name, 
 Worthy of Liberty and fame ! 
 
 VIII. BEGIM
 
 330 POEMS on federal oc capon*, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 BEGIN my mufe with Ehud's praife* 
 
 Ehud claims the nobleft lays ; 
 
 His fingle and unaided hand 
 
 Freed by one daring flroke the land j 
 
 He (ftirink, ufurpers, as you hear !) 
 
 Free from danger, as from fear, 
 
 Attack'd a tyrant on his throne, 
 
 And reach'd his life, yet fav'd his own, 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE laurels gain'd near Kijhon\ flreant 
 
 By Deborah, be next thy theme. 
 To make the Hebrew matron juftly known, 
 
 Requires fuch numbers as her own : 
 But who, like her, can terribly delight, 
 Paint the dire horrors of th' amazing fight, 
 
 All heav'n's artillery difplay, 
 And fet the ftars embattled in array ? 
 
 X. 
 
 WHAT wonders troops, tho' defpicably few, 
 .Engag'd for freedom, and by heroes led, 
 'Gainft mighty crowds of flaves can do j 
 
 Let Midian's vanquifh'd armies tell, 
 
 Who by the fword of Gideon fell, 
 
 Or from his terrors fled. 
 Happy the chief in num'rous conquefts won F 
 Happy in all the fofter joys of peace ! 
 Happy in fev'nty males, a large increafe I 
 Yet more unhappy in a tyrant foa !
 
 POEMS on fever al occafwns. 
 
 The hated produft of a lawlefs flame, 
 Stain to his blood, and ruin to his name : 
 
 For whom all Ifraelcmft. him more, 
 Than for his pious care they e'er had bleft before. 
 
 XI. 
 
 AE1MILECH by crimes unknown 
 
 Afcended to the guilty throne ; 
 
 By crimes unknown he fix'd his pow'r, 
 Three whole years, a tedious age ! 
 Ifrae I felt the monfter's rage. 
 
 Heav'n and earth could bear no more : 
 Proftrate and grov'ling on the ground he lies, 
 Defpair and horror in his dying eyes ; 
 By a vile woman reach'd, his curft defigning brain, 
 Mix'd with the clotted gore, befmears th' illuftrious plain. 
 Go ! by thy brother's blood begin thy fway, 
 By envious murders blacken ev'ry day, 
 All human and all facred laws defy, 
 And wake the fleeping juflice of the fky ; 
 Then, full of honour, to the fhades defcend, 
 And to the envying ghofts relate thy glorious end ! 
 Thus, thus, ye Pow'rs, conclude all impious ftate ; 
 May none that match his crimes e'er mare a nobler fate \ 
 
 XII. 
 
 SING Jepbtba next, my mufe; if verfe can crown 
 
 Deferving heroes with renown, 
 
 The brave, th' unhappy mall be fung, 
 Fix ev'ry lift'ning ear, and dwell on ev'ry tongue-. 
 The chief, with Ajnmon\ fons in fight engag'd, 
 When with uncertain force the battle rag'd, 
 
 Thus
 
 332 POEMS oft jeveral oc capon*. 
 
 Thus fuppliant -vow'd : If by my hand, 
 Peace and fafety glad the land ; 
 
 To you, ye fov'reign Pow'rs, that blefs 
 
 My righteous amis with wifh'd fuccefs, 
 
 Whatever firft meets my return, 
 
 Upon your altars flain matt burn. 
 Heav'n heard ; and conqueft hov'ring in the &y, 
 Flew to the jufter fide, the fervile fquadrons fly. 
 His only hope, a nymph divinely fair, 
 
 Ran with fwift joy to meet her doom ; 
 
 To bid the gen'ral welcome home 
 
 From the rough toils of war. 
 
 Heav'ns ! what a fight ! can words, can kys exprefi 
 Th' unbounded woes, th" extent of wretchednefs ? 
 Griev'd, yet refolv'd, he view'd the charming maid,, 
 And his dire vows with ftrift obedience paid. 
 See to the fhrine the lovely viftim bound ! 
 A thoufand lou adoring youths around 
 Shrink at the ftroke, and faint beneath the wound t 
 
 The father dropt a tender tear ; 
 But foon reflecting on what Heav'n had done, 
 And freedom fettled by the conqueft won, 
 He check'd his rafti complaint, nor judg'd the price toO 
 dear. 
 
 XIIL 
 
 WHAT E'ER in fables daring Greece 
 Boafts of her Tbefcus, and her Hercules ; 
 
 In Samfon 1/rad view'd, and bleft 
 The gift of Heav'n employ'd to give them reft. 
 
 Witnefs his ftrength, ye thoufands flain 
 
 By him, unarm'd, on Lehi^ plain ! 
 
 Witnefc
 
 POEMS on fever at occafions. 333 
 
 Witnefs, ye maffy gates, he tore, 
 And on his fhoulders a light burthen bore ! 
 O ! had he ftill been true to freedom's caufe, 
 
 And never felt a meaner care, 
 Unrivall'd then had' been his jaft applaufe, 
 Nor l/rael^ annals known a name fo fair ; 
 But he to luflful fires a prey, 
 In a deceitful harlot's arms, 
 Heedlefs of virtue's deathlefs charms, 
 . Idly confum'd the precious day. 
 Juftly he loft the ftrength th' immortals gave 
 JsTot for fuch ufe, juftly was made a flave ; 
 
 With freedom too deprived of fight, 
 Wailed in fervile works, the conftant jeft 
 Of barb'rous foes, and fport of ev'ry feaft ; 
 Doomed by his woes to heighten tfeeir delight. 
 His fuff'rings move the flcies ; his force returns, 
 And all the hero with new vigor burns. 
 ' Twas a great feftival, and crowds refort ; 
 .Collected nobles fill the fpacious court ; 
 The Hebrew captive's call'd, to finifh all the fport. 
 He comes, the crowd the roofs with clamours rend j 
 
 He grafps the folid pillars in his hand, 
 Beneath the grafp the folid pillars bend, 
 Pown finks the pond'rous pile, and crumes half the land. 
 
 The conqu'ror fell amidft the {lain, 
 And, dying, fav'd a wretched race in vain i 
 Unus'd and undeferving to be free, 
 They foon abandon'd dear-bought Liberty, 
 Chofe the vain fplendor of a lawlefs throne, 
 And fix'd their children's ruin, and their own. 
 
 . GREECE
 
 334 PEMS on federal occafwns. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 GREECE with hofpitable care 
 
 Receiv'd and bleft the flying Fair ; 
 
 But Athens mod ador'd her charms, 
 
 Athens renowned in arts and arms. 
 Nor lefs the Goddefs lov'd the grateful place j 
 
 There moft me chofe to fix her feat, 
 
 There ftudious form'd a godlike race, 
 
 And minds divinely great. 
 Yet there a * tyrant rofe, with treach'rous arts 
 Well fitted to feduce the people's hearts ; 
 With foothing charms to force their fenfe away, 
 And make their liberties an eafy prey : 
 Gentle his rule, but heroes juflly free 
 Know no gentle tyranny. 
 
 Twice banjfti'd, he as oft' return'd, 
 And free-born fouls the gilded bondage mourn'd, 
 In peace he dy'd : Unequal to the weight, 
 His fons in fallen rigor rule the flate : 
 
 Not long ; for foon a chofen band, 
 
 With well-concerted plots confpire 
 
 To fend the tyrants to their fire, 
 
 And eafe the groaning land, 
 Leana, eminent above the reft, 
 Deck'd in fuperior glories ftand confeft. 
 To the great theme, ye mufes, tune your lays, 
 Nor blufh to fing the glorious harlot's praife : 
 Known be her praife, but in oblivion lie 
 
 All her former infamy ! 
 
 What 
 
 Piftjlrattti.
 
 POEMS on federal occafions. 335 
 
 What tho' her fatal beauties ould intice 
 
 From virtue's manly joys to the foft bajae of vice ; 
 
 Lull heedlefs youth in wanton eafe, 
 
 And make the gay perdition pleafe ? 
 Pofterity fhall think her crimes undone, 
 And nothing real, but the fame fhe wpn. 
 
 drijiogitw lov'd the dame ; 
 Arijlogiton, moft renown'd of thofe 
 That vow'd deftruclion on their country's foes, 
 He lov'd, yet not abandon'd to his flame, 
 
 Lov'd Athens more : Oft' in her arms 
 
 He figh'd for freedom's nobler charms ; 
 Oft' mighty vengeance would his thoughts employ, 
 Difturb his loofer hours, and interrupt the joy. 
 
 The fair herfelf at laft was warm'd, 
 
 And with new fire her hero arm'd, 
 Bleft his defign, and taught him, in her turn, 
 To court brave death, and mameful life to fcorn. 
 
 XV. 
 
 * ONE tyrant falls; ftern Hippias ftill furvives, 
 And for his brother's feeks his murd'rers lives : 
 Some prove his rage, but more efcape, by fate 
 Referv'd the future patriots of their ftat.e, 
 
 Le<ena, urg'd in vain, fuppreft 
 
 Th' important fecret in her breaft ; 
 Her tender limbs now curft tormentors tear, 
 And wafte their barb'rous arts upon the fair ; 
 In ev'ry nerve convulsive horrors reign, 
 And ftruggling nature finks beneath the pain : 
 
 Thrice 
 
 Htpparcbvs.
 
 336 POEMS on federal occafions. 
 
 Thrice on her lips die halform'd accents hung, 
 As oft* th' undaunted heroine Itopt her tongue : 
 
 But when fhe found her courage fail, 
 
 And all the fofter fex prevail ; 
 
 Begone, fhe cry'd, falfe, treach'rous part, 
 
 Unworthy of my greater heart ! 
 She fpoke, and tore the traitor from his place, 
 And fpit it in the trembling tyrant's face. 
 
 xvr. 
 
 TAUGHT by the great example, Athens rofe i 
 far from the happy land the tyrant flies, 
 And Perjias realm a iafe afylum chofe : 
 There the proud monarch, with a tender care, 
 
 Receives his fellow-ravimer ; 
 
 Grants him of flaves immenfe fupplics, 
 To Liberty a glorious facrifice ; 
 That great Miltlades might be divine, 
 And Marathon in deathlefs honours mine. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 BUT Xerxes' arms for vengeance, to his caufe 
 Millions of flaves, a world in fetters draws : 
 Swell'd into madnefs, as the tyrant view'd 
 
 The vaft, unnumber'd multitude ; 
 Sure ruin his prefumptuous thoughts decree 
 To Greece, and ev'ry land that dar'd be free': 
 Nor vain his pride, were it to numbers giv'n 
 
 To change the firm refolves of Heav'n. 
 The groaning earth th' unwieldy burthen feels, 
 Exhaufled rivers fcarce fupply their meals. 
 Europe from AJla, to divide, in vain 
 
 Rolls its fierce waves the aftern main ;
 
 P'OEMS m fever at occafwns. 337 
 
 The monarch fpeaks, and fwift at his command, 
 
 The lab'ring fquadrons join the land. 
 
 With lathes and with chains he aw'd 
 
 The courage of the watry God; 
 
 The curling billows foam no more, 
 And tam'd to dull fubmiffion kifs the more : 
 
 All nature fhrinking from his rage, 
 
 Scarce dar'd in Freedom's caufe engage ; 
 Sufpended ev'n the Goddefs feem'd to ftand, 
 Doubted of fate's, decree, and trembled for the land. 
 
 xvin. 
 
 THREE hundred Spartans (Heav'n requir'd no more. 
 
 To fhake th" intolerable pow'r) 
 Thy ftreights, Thermopylae, fecure ; and there 
 Suftain the wildeft fury of the foe ; 
 Yet think it cowardice no more to dare, 
 They feek the combat, and prevent the blow. 
 
 Thus iffue from the Lybian wood 
 
 Fierce lions prefs'd by want of food ; 
 
 O'er weak inclofures force their way, 
 
 Fill all the fpacious folds with blood, 
 And make the trembling fugitives their prey: 
 Nor more the bleating troop th' invaders fears. 
 
 Than Per/ta's hoft their conquerors. 
 The monarch fculks behind his fartheft band*, 
 Deftin'd to perifh by lefs noble hands. 
 His coward vaflals threaten from afar, 
 
 And diftant dart a miffive war ; 
 
 The chiefs urge on the rage, they wound, 
 And deal inevitable death around j 
 
 Vo L. II. O Thn
 
 338 POEMS on fever al oc capons. 
 
 Then with their glorious toil oppreft, 
 And tir'd with conqu'ring, funk to reft. 
 
 XIX. 
 PLEAS'D, in th' Elyjian fhades they heae 
 
 The honours by their country won, 
 The num'rous glories of a war 
 
 Ended by wonders, as begun. 
 Defcending heroes, proud in conqueft, tell 
 What numbers at Plat tea fell; 
 At Mycale, what heaps of flain, 
 And Salcmis, difcolour'd all the main. 
 The curfed inftruments of public woe 
 Crowd all the wide infernal plains ; 
 There juftly fentenc'd, undergo 
 Infinite tortures, and eternal chains. 
 But the dire * monfter, whofe unbounded rage 
 A gen'ral ruin only could affuage, 
 Fills all the grifly ruler's mind, 
 And ev'ry thought employ'd, to find 
 Some equal punifliment, fome full reward, 
 For all he adled, and for all he dar'd. 
 All hell is bufy to prepare his doom, 
 Stern juttice waits impatient 'till he come; 
 For him Omnipotence exhaufts its ftore 
 Of vengeance yet unprov'd, and plagues unfelt before; 
 For him with double rage the fiery torrents roar. 
 The gloomy made defcends ; a wretched flave, 
 Mean as himfelf, and in this only brave, 
 Sent him, unpity'd, to a fordid grave. 
 
 Xerxti. 
 
 XX. Tui
 
 POEMS on fever al occafons. 339 
 XX. 
 
 THE deathlefs trophy of the Perfic wars 
 Inteftine broils (a dreadful fcene !) fucceed, 
 Inglorious triumphs, and difhoneft fears ; 
 While GrmVs braveft fons confpire to make their pa- 
 rent bleed. 
 Had but their matchlefs virtue been employed 
 
 In the foft arts of gentle peace, 
 Or fav'd the free, and flaves alone deftroy'd ; 
 Ulyjfts 1 fame (hould yield to Pericles^ 
 And the great * youth whom Socrates infpir'd, 
 Beyond the || fon of Thetis be admir'd. 
 In how bright luftre had the f Theban {hone, 
 Had only barb'rous hofts his valour known ! 
 Nor Sparta can of her Lyfander boaft, 
 Since all the hero in the tyrant's loft. 
 
 Forbear, illuftrious fouls, forbear 
 To tempt the angry fkies ; 
 
 The Pow'rs fo much incens'd, prepare 
 Your madnefs to chaftife : 
 
 An unknown, defpicable hand 
 
 Shall join you in one common woe j 
 
 At Cberoruea ftrike a fatal blow, 
 And drive th' unwilling Goddefs from the land. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 To Rome the Charmer wing'd her flight, 
 Rome, her darling and delight j 
 
 2 There 
 
 Alciliades. || Achilles. } Epaminondas,
 
 34 P o M s .<?# federal occafion^ 
 
 There Brutus fix'd the heav'nly Fair's abode, 
 
 Brutus , illuflrious Demigod ! 
 Fain would the mufe his glorious afls purfue^ 
 And bring the wonders of his life to view, 
 
 Shining and great in ev'ry part ; 
 Ev'n then, when he beheld his Rome oppreft, 
 Hid the wild tumults of his throbbing heart, 
 And in tame folly well the flave confeft. 
 The Sov'reign thus whom heav'n and earth adore, 
 
 With well-diflembled patience bears 
 
 Some vile infulter of his pow'r, 
 Deaf to his wrongs, and to the injur'd's pray'rs ; 
 'Till by repeated crimes the wretch fecure, 
 Blafphemes the eafy God that can fo long endure j 
 
 Then pointed lightnings pierce the fkies, 
 And with amazing force the tardy vengeance flie.s. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 EV'N now, methinks, I fee the hero flan4, 
 Grafping Lucretias dagger in his hand ; 
 He fummons to his aid delivering Jovc, 
 And all the tyrant hating hofts above ; 
 Then from below the matron calls, to view 
 The great revenge to her wrong'd honour due. 
 Th' aftonifh'd crowd believe the chief infpir'd, 
 And, in a moment, to like raptures fir'd, 
 Feel a loft vigor to their breads reftor'd, 
 Shake off their fetters, and abjure their lo; J d : 
 The bleeding dame almoft remained unmourn'd, 
 While peace, and liberty, and blooming joys return'd. 
 
 XXIJL Tox
 
 POEMS on federal occafions. 341 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Too mighty were thofe Joysj, too vafl^ 
 Unmix'd with lefler forrows long to laft ; 
 
 A few rafh youths, a thoughtlefs band, 
 Attempt the exil'd monarch to reftore, 
 To fix on former props the fhaken pow'r, 
 And load with heavier chains the refcu'd land. 
 What various horrors, Conful, raciu'd thy mind* 
 Thy fons the firft in the black lift to find ! 
 Not long the father with the patriot ttrove. 
 
 Soon prevailed his country's love : 
 The awful judge to the tribunal comes, 
 And to the axe his guilty offspring dooms ; 
 And views, unmov'd, in each expiring fon 
 Romis fears deftroy'd, and his own hopes undone. 
 
 The anguifh of his foul and woe, 
 He well avenges on th' invading foe : 
 Then dies ; but ftruck for freedom as he fell, 
 And fent a rifing * tyrant down to hell. 
 Hail, great deliv'rer of a race oppreft ! 
 
 Hail, name to future ages bleft ! 
 Thee fhall pure matrons fing, foft virgins thee> 
 Avenger fure of injur'd chaftity \ 
 Tyrants unborn fhall tremble at thy name, 
 And heroes yet to come be kindled by thy flame.. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 BUT what avail the wonders done, 
 Tyrants expell'd, and conquefb won ? 
 
 Within 
 
 * Arms*
 
 342 POEMS on fever al occafons. 
 
 Within Rome's bowels a domeftie foe 
 
 Eredls a fortrefs to emlave the land v 
 
 Its lofty heights the town command,. 
 
 And threaten ruin all below. 
 
 In words like thefe the frighted crowd 
 Utter their complaints aloud. 
 Rafh complaints ! ill-grounded fears f 
 
 The great Valerius, fee, appears ! 
 
 Submiflive, fee .' he bows around, 
 And bends his humble Fafces to the ground. 
 To you, he cries, from whom all fway defcends, 
 Remans, to you your fubjeft Conful bends : 
 Juftly you flirink at arbitrary ftate, 
 
 But hard to judge your magiftrate f 
 If e'er a pow'r above your laws I foughty 
 Or e'er your freedom injur'd but in thought j 
 
 Turn, turn on this devoted head 
 The dreadful axes that you gave ; 
 
 Or fpeedier lightning flam me dead, 
 
 And op'ning earth become my grave ! 
 Soon fhall this houfe be raz'd ; and funk to duft, 
 Clear my fufpe&ed faith, and prove your fears unjufL 
 
 Already levell'd as he fpoke, 
 The building fmks amain ; 
 
 Down the wide hill the ruins fmoke,. 
 
 And fill th' extended plain. 
 Sublime in impious ftate, Verfalia, rife, 
 Fit for the wrath and juftice of the flues ; 
 This houfe defhroy'd eternal praife mail claim, 
 When with thy pile is loft the hated * founder's name. 
 
 * Louis XIV.. 
 
 XXV. NOT
 
 POEMS on fever al occafions. 343 
 xxv. 
 
 NOT Gods by all the fpacious earth ador'd, 
 With hatf fuch joy a thoufand kings behold, 
 
 Each of unnumber'd flaves the lord, 
 Decking their fhrines with tributary gold j 
 
 As fill'd the Goddefs, when {he faw 
 
 Romis glorious offspring own her law. 
 Whom fhall I firft rehearfe ? the deathlefs throng 
 Confounds the mufe, and tires the lab'ring fong. 
 
 Who can enough the Gracchi praife, 
 Or ftern Torquatus to due honours raife ? 
 What colours paint Ser*uilius t as he flood 
 Warm with great rage, and more than half a God> 
 His arm frefh reeking with a * tyrant" s blood ? 
 
 Who, thro' a train of heroes, trace 
 Th' unfading glories of the Fabian race ? 
 
 In equal numbers, who extol 
 Camillus, terror of the impious Gaul; 
 And Manlius thund'ring from the Capitol? 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 BLEST Italy! where ev'ry plain and ftream 
 
 Immortal aftions crown j 
 The free-born mufes grateful theme, 
 
 And facred to renown. 
 Hora tins here, alone, an army flood, 
 Guardian of Rome amidft furrounding foes : 
 Sav'd Tyler, bear his praifes on thy flood, 
 And bid old ocean fpread them as he flows ! 
 
 Sp. Ma/tus.
 
 3 44 P M*S on federal vccafions. 
 
 There CoJJus from a fcepterM tyrant tore 
 His life, and all the gorgeous arms he v/ore ; 
 The fpoils adorn ferctrian Jow^s abode, 
 A prefent worthy of the thund'ring God ! 
 Marcellus here firft taught delpairing Rome, 
 That Hannibal could be o'ercorae. 
 
 XXVII. 
 WHEN Curius and Fabritius I behold, 
 
 Auguft in willing poverty, defpife 
 Barbaric gems, and heaps of proffer'd gold, 
 
 And a mean freedom, conftant, prize ; 
 My bread a gen'rous emulation fhes, 
 And all my foul to deathlefs fame afpires. 
 All hail ! ye venerable feats, 
 Of godlike minds the bleft retreats, 
 Low cottages, obfcure abodes, 
 That bred a race of Demi -gods : 
 Where you, great fhades, where Scaurus liv'd, and 
 
 * thou, 
 
 Twice Dictator from the plough. 
 Ye Pow'rs, how very poor to thefe, 
 Appear the loftieft palaces ! 
 I fcorn the little, defpicable things, 
 And pity the vain pride of all their builder-kings; 
 
 (Left unfimjhed.) 
 
 * L. ^ Cincinnatus. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 
 
 THE 
 
 HISTORY of JOSEPH 
 
 A 
 
 *P O E M. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 An Invocation of the Divine Spirit. A Defcription of 
 the Temple of Moloch, in the Valley of Hinnon, 
 iiahere a Congrefs of infernal Pcivers are met to con- 
 trive fame Method to extirpate the Hebrew Race . 
 
 JEleftial Mufe, that on the blifsful plain 
 Art oft invok'd, to guide th.' immortal 
 
 drain ; 
 Inipir'd by thee, the firft-born fens of 
 
 light 
 Hail'd the creation in a tuneful flight ; 
 
 V o L. II. a ' Pleas'd 
 
 * This Poem may be had alone, in a larger Print with a curi- 
 ous Frontifpiece, to complete the Oftavo Edition of Mrs. Ra-.te's 
 Works : Printed for B. Dad in Avc-Mjr<;-Ls>:e.
 
 Pleas'd with thy voice, the fpheres began their round, 
 The morning ftars danc'd to the charming found : 
 Yet thou haft often left the cryflal tow'rs, 
 To vifit mortals in their humble bow'rs. 
 
 ' - ?< fenfc 
 
 Favour'd by thee the courtly (Wain of old, 
 Beneath mount Horeb facred wonders told, 
 Of bound lefs chaos, and primseval night, 
 The fprings of motion and the feeds of light. 
 The fun flood ftill, to hear his radiant birth, 
 With the formation of the balanc'd earth. 
 The moon on high check'd her nofturnal car, 
 And lill'ning ftaid, with ev'ry lingering ftar./ilw'JJ.-b] 
 The hills around, and lofty Sinab heard 
 By whofe command their tow' ring heads were rear'd. 
 The flow'rs their gay original attend ; 
 Their tufted crowns the groves, adoring, bend. 
 The fountains rofe, the Itreams their courfe withheld, 
 To hear the ocean's wond'rous fource reveal'd. 
 The birds fit filent on the branches near, 
 The flocks and herds their verdant food forbear. 
 The fwains forgot their labour while he fung, 
 How, from the duft, their great forefather fprung : 
 A vital call awoke him from the ground, 
 The moving clay obey'd th' almighty found. 
 Thus fung in lofty ftrains the noble bard ; 
 The heav'ns and earth their own formation heard, 
 
 'xO .-rf1 
 
 But thou, propitious Mufe, a gentler fire 
 Djklft breathe, and tune to fofter notes the lyre, 
 When royal Lebanon heard the am'rous king 
 The beautras of his lov'd Egyptian fing : 
 
 The
 
 yfc Hijlory of Jofeph. {3] 
 
 The facred lays a myftick fenfe infold, 
 And things diviae in human types were told. 
 Difdain not, gentle pow'r, my fong to grace, 
 While I the paths of heav'nly juftice trace ; 
 And twine a blooming garland for the youth, 
 Renown'd for honour, and unblemifh'd truth. 
 
 Let others tell of ancient conquefts won. 
 And mighty deeds by favour'd heroes done ; 
 (Herces enflav'd to pride, and wild defires) 
 A virgin Mufe, a virgin theme requires ; 
 Where vice and wanton beauty quit the fisl<?, 
 And guilty loves to ftedfaft virtue yield. 
 
 Jacob, with heav'n's peculiar favour bleft, 
 Leaving the fertile regions of the Eaft, 
 (Where Haran, then a noble city, flood, 
 Between fair Tigris, and Euphrates flood) 
 From Lalian fled, and by divine command 
 Purfued his journey to his native land. * 
 
 Loaded with wealth, his num'rous camels bore 
 His wives, his children, and his houlhold fiore: 
 Of purchas'd flaves he led an endlefs ftrain, 
 His flocks and herds eugrofs'd the wide champam. 
 
 The fhepherd's art was all his fathers knew, 
 His fons the fame induftrious life purfue. 
 The God his pious anceftors ador'd, 
 Th' almighty God, at Bethel, he implor'd : 
 An altar there, with grateful vows he rear'd, ^ 
 
 Where twice the radiant vifion had appear'd ; 
 
 The pow'rs of hell the dreadful omen fear'd : ^ S 
 
 a z Eack
 
 [4] tte Htftory of . Joicph. . 
 
 Each demon trembles in his hollow fhrine, 
 Tlie raving priefts amazing Things divine. 
 
 In Hinnons vale a fane to Moloch flood, 
 Around it rofe a confecrated wood ; 
 VVhofe mingled {hades excluded noon-day light, 
 And made below uninterrupted night. 
 Pale tapers hang around in equal rows, 
 The manfion of the fallen king difclofe ; 
 Seven brazen gates its horrid entrance guard ; 
 Within the cries of infant ghofts were heard j 
 On feven high altars rife polluted fires, 
 While human victims feed the ruddy fpires. 
 The place, Gehenna call'd, refembled well . 
 The native gloom and difmal vaults of hell. 
 'Twas night, and goblins in the darknefs danc'd, 
 The priefts in frantick vifions lay entranc'd ; 
 While here conven'd the Pagan terrors fat, 
 In folemn council, and mature debate, 
 T'avert the ftorm impending o'er their Hate. 
 Th'apoflate princes with refentment fir'd, 
 Anxious, and bent on black defigns, confpir'd , 
 To find out fchemes fuccefsful to efface 
 Great Hders name, and crufh the facred race ; 
 From whence they knew, the long predicted kir.g, 
 Th'infernal empire's deftin'd foe fhould fpring ; 
 Who conqu'rer o'er their vanquim'd force fliould 
 
 tread, 
 
 And all their captive chiefs in triumph lead. 
 Th'affair their deepeft policy commands, 
 And brought them hicLcr, from jemotelilaads; 
 
 From 
 

 
 The Hijlory of Jofcph. [5] 
 
 From Ur, Armenia, and Iberia's ftiores, "| 
 
 From Nile, and O/>/r rich with golden ores, I 
 
 And where the Adrian wave, and where .\ti Atlantick 1 
 
 Nefroth appears, his amber chariot drawn 
 With fnowy Heeds ; him at the rifing dawn 
 The Syrian worfhips from his airy hills, 
 Whofe vales with wealth the fam'd ^rax;'* fills. 
 Belus forfakes his high frequented domes, 
 And o'er the famous plains of Shinab comes : 
 Plegar defcends his mount ; to him were paid, 
 With impious rites, libations for the dead. 
 Imperious Rimmon came, whofe manfion Hood 
 On the fair banks of Pbarphar's lucid flood. 
 Ofiris left his Nile, and thund'ring Baal 
 The rock, whence Oman's plenteous waters fall. 
 Mitkra, whom all the Eajl adores, was there ; 
 And like his own refplendent planet fair, 
 With yellow treffes, and enchanting eyes 
 Diflembling beauty, would the fiend difguifc. 
 Nor fail'd a deity of female name, 
 Ajlarte, with her filver crefcent came : 
 Melita left her Babylonian bow'rs ; 
 Where wanton damfels, crown'd with blufliing flow'rs, 
 In all the fummer's various luftre gay, 
 )etefted Orgies to the goddefs pay. 
 
 Thefe various pow'rs, their various fchemes propofe, 
 But none th'affembly pleas'd, 'till Mitbra rofe j 
 (Of an alluring mien above the reft) 
 Who thus th'apoftate potentates addrefs'd. 
 
 a 3 . Mankind
 
 [6] The Hiftory of Jofcph. 
 
 Mankind by willing fleps to ruin move, J 
 
 Their own wild psffions their deftruftion prove, > 
 But the moft fatal is forbidden love. "'' ^ & ^ aLsv >^ 
 Old Jacob boafls a daughter young and fair, 
 Fond Leah's glory and peculiar ci :^ w tl 1 
 Her eyes inflame the gating Pagans hearts, 
 Young Sbechem has already frit their darts ; ^ ^ 
 Who lately faw herwith her virgin train, ""' X^ * 
 Near Sbalem, wand'ring o'er the dewy plain. 
 I'll fill his youthful breaft with mad defjre, 
 By fraud, or force, his wilhes to acquire. 
 The coming day he does a feaft prepare, X*" f>: 
 By me intruded how to hide the fnare : 
 Fair Dinah is his fitter's prcrms'd gueft, 
 Impatient love will foon complete the reft. 
 The damfel's wrongs her brothers will inflame 
 To right, with hoftile arms, thefc7vav'sfliame$ 
 By which provok'd, the Canaanites fliall join 
 With us t'aboliih this detelled line. -rjyKr* 
 
 . Revenge and bloody faction are my care, 
 Moloch replies, thine be the foft affair j 
 Without Inilru&ions thou canft afl thy part, 
 Well-praftis'd in the nice alluring art ; ; 5igH 
 
 Euphrates'" banks, and Senac's confcious (hades, 
 Atteft thy freedom with tifdflyrian maids : 
 Thy voice, applauded in the heav'nly groves, 
 Was there devoted to terreilial loves : 
 Thy facred lyre to human fubjedls ftrung, 
 No more with tirefome Hal/elujahs rung ; 
 This gracM thy hand, a quiver hung behind, 
 Nor fail'd thy fparkling eyes to charm the beauteous 
 kind. The
 
 fke-Hijtory of Jofeph. [ 7 J 
 
 The bold example of thy loofe amours, 
 
 PrevaiPd on numbers of the hcav'rJy powers ; 
 
 Who vainly had the nril probation ilood, 
 
 Proof to ambition, obftinate'y good. 
 
 Long after I, with my aflbciates, fell ; 
 
 Thy friends enlarg'd the monarchy of hell ; 
 
 On fofcer motives you abhorr'd the fides, 
 
 Allur'd by womens captivating eyes : 
 
 The fons of God thus with the race of man 
 
 Were mingled i hence the giant ftock began. 
 
 Our plot requires us now, and if it fail, "> 
 
 I'll, in ray turn, the hated tribe aflkil ; ^ 
 
 Domeftick faction may at laft prevail. V 
 
 Jofcph, his doting father's life and joy, 
 
 By well -concerted means we muftdeftroy ; 
 
 This youth, above the reft, excites my fear, 
 
 Divine prefages in his face appear ; 
 
 Officious Gabriel's care to him confin'd, 
 
 Foretels a man for mighty things defign'd 
 
 His brethren, adted by my pow'rful fire, 
 
 Againft his envy'd life fhall all confpire. 
 
 Jofepb remov'd, old Jacob's greateft prop, 
 
 The race mall mourn, in him, their blafted hope. 
 
 Here Moloch ceas'd ; th'infernal fpirits rofe, 
 
 Crowning the doable plot with vaft applaufe. 
 
 
 BOOK
 
 BOOK 
 
 Jacob'* Daughter dijboncur'd by Shechem, Prince cf 
 //^Hivites. Her Brothers revenge the Injury. The 
 Patriarch relates to his Sons Abraham'.* Conqueft cfyfr 
 the King of Elam and his Royal Confederates. Ht 
 re/cues Lot. Melchifcdech meets and ble/es Abraham. 
 The intended Sacrtfce of Ifaac. , 
 
 YOung Shechem all the night impatient lay, 
 And fought with eager eyes the breaking day j 
 With ardent longings waits the promis'd hour, 
 And fancies all his wifhes in his pow'r : 
 jtner, his friend, improves the fatal fire, 
 And fooths, with flatt'ring fcenes, his wild defire. 
 
 Sidonia, guiltlefs of her brother's fnares, 
 To grace her lovely Hebrew gueft prepares ; 
 Who with her young companions now appears, 
 Too innocent for nice referves, or fears. 
 Her artlefs looks, nor tim'rous, nor afiiir'd, 
 With eafy charms the Jebujttes allur'd : 
 A rofy tinfture paints her guiltlefs face : "5 
 
 Her eyes, peculiar to her beauteous race, % 
 
 Sparkle with life, and dart Immortal grace. \ 
 
 Rich orient bracelets, round her fnowy arms, 
 And faultlefs neck, improve her native charms. 
 The Hivife princefs entertains the maid, 
 To Hamor's palace fatally betray'd j 
 
 Where,
 
 $ke Hiftory of Jofeph; [9] 
 
 Where, at the pomp of one furprifing feaft, 
 
 She meets the luxury of all the Eajl. 
 
 Her thoughts the proud magnificence admire, 
 
 The people's cuftoms, and their ftrange attire ; 
 
 'Till modeft rules, and the declining day, 
 
 With Leah's charge forbid her longer flay : 
 
 But ah ! too late, fhe finds herfelf betray 'd 
 
 To Shecheni's pow'r, a loft defencelefs maid ; 
 
 A captive in his treach'rous courts retain'd, ~) 
 
 By fraud feduc'd, and brutal force conftrain'd, > 
 
 Her name difhonour'd, and her nation ftain'd. J) 
 
 In vain with tender fighs he ftrives to move 
 The injur'd fair to voluntary love; 
 The ftriaeft rules of chaftity me knew, 
 With all that to her great defcent was due ; 
 But what .with gentle arts he fails to gain, 
 His wild de fires by violence obtain. 
 
 The hateful tidings reach'd her father's ears, 
 And almofc funk his venerable years : 
 Her brothers rage, and for revenge combine; 
 But guard with fecret guile their black defign. 
 
 The town in feafls confum'd the fecond day, 
 And plung'd at night in fearlefs riot lay. 
 The reftlefs iliepherds ere the ling'ring dawn, 
 Each held his fword, for horrid a&ion drawn ; 
 Surpris'd the city like a rifing flood, 
 Rag'd thro' the ftreets, and bath'd their fwords in bloocf. 
 The Hebrews, pleas'd with this fuccefsful fate, 
 Sprung furious on, and forc'd the palace gate : 
 
 a 5 . Ficrc*
 
 [jo] TbeHifcory of Joieph. 
 
 Fierce Sitaton thro 1 the bright apartments flew, ''. 
 And old and young, without difiinclion, flew. 
 
 Slechem, with reftlefs paffion ftill infpir'dy 
 Was with the charming Ifraelite retir'&Joi MiiaiU raovi 
 And firfl by mad infulting Levi found, -mASttrfW 
 Without a paufe he gave the defp'rate wouti&uohftalll 
 Take thy difpatch curft ravilher for hell, ^5Jlod 9<(T 
 He faid ; and down the bleeding viftim felli> rrrfi"to5 
 His fatal miftrefs turns away her eyes, , >-JoT 
 
 With horror feiz'd, and trembling with furprifr. < fi7 fl | 
 The fwains her roving vanity upbraid, 
 And to their tents the penitent convey M. 
 Their father griev'd, reproves the bloody fac"t,iJWrt9H 
 But Judab thus defends the hoftile aft. 
 
 Should they, a race uncircumcis'd and vile, 
 With lawlefs mixtures Gram's flock defile ? 
 Our wives and fifters in our fight conflrain ; ^ 
 
 While we, regardlefs of the (hameful ftain, C 
 
 Stand tamely by, and fcarce of wrong complain ? N| 
 They firft intrench'd on hofpitable truft, 
 And human faith ; our vengeance is but juft. 
 
 Such juftice never mingle with my fame, 
 Good Jfrael cries, nor fpot my guiltlefs name! 
 The realms around, who idol Gods revere 
 Will this black deed with indignation hear j 
 And all their policy and rage unite, 
 To blot our odious mera'ry from the light.
 
 The H$ry of Jofeph. [i i 
 
 So hell beh'ev'd j - but heav'n a (acred dread 
 Of Jacobs fons among the nations fpread ikaa olo bn 
 While he at Bethel with a pious flame, 
 Implores the great unutterable Name. 
 From thence to Mamres peaceful plain retires, 
 Where Kiriath-arba lifts her golden fpires :. 
 Jlluftrious drba built and nam'd the place, ;r v ^joodn 
 The beaded father of the giant race i ? ^f 
 
 For them defign'd the monftrous plan appear'd, 
 To heav'n the threat'ning battlements were rear'd, 
 In carelefs joys and plenty here they live, 
 And to the neghb'ring fwains protection give. 
 
 Beneath the hill, on which their city flood,, 
 Afcended high a venerable wood - 
 The folemn {hades, which gave a fecret dread* 
 Conceal'd a vaulted ftrufture for the dead, 
 Machpelab called, with wondrous labour wrought ; 
 This Alram of the giant nation bought : 
 The cave, the wood, thefprings, and bord'ring field, 
 fpbron,, their prince, by publick contrail feal'd. 
 
 Here to their purchased right the (hepherds drits 
 Their fleecy charge, and unmolefted live ; 
 While frequent thro* the confecrated ground, 
 Infcriptions and old monuments they found 
 Where'er celeftial viiions had appear'd, 
 The pious worfhippers an altar rcar'd ; 
 The my flick name to mortals long unknown,. 
 Was deeply figur'd on the polifh'd Tione ;. 
 By marks engrav'd on arching rocks, 't^'j feen, 
 That heavenly pow'rs liad there converj'd wi:h. men. 
 
 Remote
 
 [ 12 J 7&<? Hiftory of Jofeph* 
 
 . Remote from this a lofty pillar flood j 
 This Jacob to the rural concourfe Ihew'd ; 
 Here fee, he faid, the memory retain' d 
 Of Gram's conqueft near Damafcus gain'd. 
 
 To diftant lands the Eaflern rule was fpi-ead, 
 And Jordttifs banks a yearly tribute paid : 
 The king of Sodom firft contemn'd the yoke, 
 Admah and Zeboitn next the treaty broke. 
 At this the royal Elamite enrag'd, 
 The neighboring kings, his great allies, engag'dj 
 Ariocb and mighty Yidal join their force, 
 Conqueft where'er they turn attends their courfe. 
 The Herims on mount Seir their valour prove, 
 Their troops the Emims from their fortrefs drove. 
 
 Tn Siddim's vale the adverfe princes ftay, 
 There Shibna, Sera and Sbemeber lay. 
 Amrapkel early meets his doubtful foes, 
 And for the victory his ranks difpofe ; 
 But fcarce th'encounter could be call'd a fight, 
 So foon the troops of Sodom took their flight : orairoi 
 The coward race, unus'd to charge a foe, 
 Their jav'lins, fwords and fliields at once forego. 
 Some feek the woods, and fome a Ihek'ring cave ; 
 Some in the rocks their breath, inglorious, fave ; >$-kifr 
 While others plunging down fair Jordan* tide, 
 From the ftern looks of war their faces hide. 
 Th'invaders fheath their fwords, and fcorn to grace 
 With martial deaths the defpicable race. 
 Sera alone and Lot fuftain'd the field, 
 But prefs'd by numbers were compell'd to yield : 
 
 Thefc,
 
 the Hi/lory of Jofeph. 13] 
 
 Thefe, with the rkhes of the town, a prey 
 To Parang .hills the conqu'rors bore away. 
 
 This Alram heard, and gather'd on the plain 
 A valiant band, his own domeftick train : 
 His glad afliftance EJbcol brings, a youth 
 Of pub'ick honour, and unblemifh'd truth ; 
 With Aner t Mamre, dauntlefs both and young, 
 Brothers, all three from noble Amor fprung. 
 
 'Twas night, fecure the viclor army lies, 
 Scornful of foes, and fearlefs of furprife ; 
 By Heav'n's command a fudden vapour fprcads 
 O'er all the hoft, and clouds their drowfy heads ; 
 To the high throne of fenfe foft /lumber climbs, 
 Slackens their finews, and benumbs their limbs j 
 The captives eyes alone its force repel'd, 
 Nor to the pleafmg violence would yield. 
 
 \ 
 
 Now near the camp the brave Confed'rates draw, 
 And by the glimm'ring fires its polture faw : 
 The foremoft rank, the fwift invaders flew, 
 And foon the waking pris'ners heard and knew 
 Their adtive friends, that to their fuccour flew. 
 Abram his nephew, he the reft unty'd ; 
 The fleeping foe avenging fwords fupply'd : 
 From file to file the fearlefs brothers pafs, 
 And leave them breathlefs on the purple grafs. 
 Th' old patriarch feels new life in ev'ry vein, 
 And fcatters wide deftru&ion o'er the plain. 
 The terror grows, the clalh of arms, and cries 
 Of wounded men afflift the ambient Ikies. 
 
 Prince
 
 i 4 ] tte Hijtery of JofepL 
 
 Prince Arioch, flartled at the noife, awakes; 
 
 And from his eyes the fatal flumber (hake?. 
 
 At oft-repeated calls his legions arm, y ni nsra euoiq arTf 
 
 And madly hafte to meet the loud alarm ; 
 
 But by a force more prevalent out-done, 
 
 On certain fate with eager fteps they run ; 
 
 Diforder'd and amaz'd, they quit the field, 
 
 And, raving, ta their unknown victors yield. 
 
 The morning rofe, and with her blu(hing light 
 Expos'd their damage, and inglorious flight ; 
 The joyful Ihepherds feize th' abandon'd fpoils ;. 
 And now returning from their martial toils, 
 A royal prieft at Salem Abram meets, 
 With prefents, and a benediction greets 
 The Hebrew bands :- To heav'n he lifts his eyes. 7 
 And bleft be that propitious pow'r, he cries, > 
 
 Who walks the cryftal circuit of the fkies j ^ 
 
 Who hears the boafts of mortals with difdain, 
 Contemns their force, and makes their triumphs vain ! 
 His mien was folemn, and his face divine, 
 Refulgent gems around his temples fhine : 
 His graceful robe, a bright celeflial blue, 
 Trailing behind, a train majeitick drew. 
 The tenth of all great Abram gives the prieft, 
 The Kings and Amorites divide the reft. 
 Ail pleas'd, the gen'rous conqu'ror loudly prais'd, 
 And to his fame this lafting column rais'd. 
 
 The fwains were lift'ning flill, when Jacob cries, 
 To yonder mountain now direct your eyes } 
 For there a brighter fcene af glory lies, 
 
 'Twas 
 
 \
 
 &t Hijiory of Jofeph. [15] 
 
 *Twas there the wond'ring fun in Abram vicw'd 
 The nobleft height of human fortitude j 
 The pious man in guiltlefs fleep lay drown 'd, 
 When thro' his ears thunder'd this fatal found. 
 
 A rife, and Ifaac on mine altar lay, 
 With thy own hand the deftin'd victim flay. 
 He ftarts, and cries, who can this thought infpire ? 
 Can heav'n this monftrous facrifice require ? 
 
 The dreadfull call again furpris'd his ears, 
 And lo ! the well-known heavenly form appears. 
 He bow'd, and at the purple dawn arofe, 
 And with his darling to Mortal) goes. 
 Aftonim'd long he by the altar flood, 
 Then pil'd with trembling hands the facred wood ; 
 Half dead himfelf ; the wond'ring youth he binds, 
 Who now his fire's fevere intention finds. 
 
 What thoughts, he afk'd, my father, have pof&ft 
 Your foul ? what horrid fury fills your breaft ? 
 Am I to hell a facrifice defign'd ? 
 Some cruel demon muft your rcafon blind ; 
 Th' unblemilh'd feies abhor this bloody deed, 
 No human vi&ims on their altars bleed. 
 
 'Tis heavn, the Patriarch faid, this fa& requires, 
 'Tis heav'n be witnefs yon ethereal fires ! 
 Yet, countlefs as the flars, from thee muft fpring 
 Victorious nations, and the tnyflick King : 
 
 'Tis paft relief yet by himfelf he fwore, 
 
 Who from the dead thy relicks can reftore ; 
 What obftaclc furmounts almighty pow'r ? 
 
 This
 
 [ 1 6] 2& mjtor% of Jo%h, 
 
 This faid, the pious youth refign'd his life i 
 Bleft Alwm fhook off all paternal itrife, 
 And forward thruft the confecrated knife. 
 As lightning from the fkies, an angel broke, 
 And warded with his hand the fatal ftroke ; 
 When thus a voice flreams downward from above, 
 Breathing divine beneficence and love. 
 
 By my great felf I fwear, to blefs thy race 
 With endlefs favour, and peculiar grace ; 
 Thy fcepter'd fons the fpacious Eaft /hall Avay, 
 While vanquifti'd kings obedient tribute pay. 
 
 Here Jacob ends, and to his tent retires ; 
 Their fleecy charge the parting fwains requires. 
 
 BO O 1C
 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 T/* infernal Powers endeavour to raife FaSions in Ja- 
 cob'j Family. Jofeph'j Dreams. His Brother's Jea- 
 Joujy and Malice. He comes to Dothan. They cwfn'e 
 him in a Pit ivhile they confult his Ruin. An Angel 
 in a Vijton prefaces to him his future greaittefs, and 
 warns him tf the fnares of Beauty and unlawful 
 Love. His Brsthers fpare his Lift;, and fell him to 
 the Midian Merchants travelling with their fpicy 
 Trajpck into Egypt. Jacob, oljlinate in Griff, refufts 
 all Confutation. 
 
 MEAN time the Pagan deities, difpleas'd 
 To find the public florins fo foon appeas'd, 
 Studious attempt by new malicious ways, 
 Among the Hebrews civil jars to raife : 
 Moloch already had provok'd the ftrife, 
 And kindling mifchief threatens Jofepfrs life. 
 
 The lovely youth, fair Rachel's boafted fon, 
 Compleatly form'd, his feventecnth year begun ; 
 His mother's fparkling eyes, and blooming grace, 
 Mixt with feverer flrokes, adorn'd his face. 
 Not he that in Sabea's fragrant grove, 
 (As poets fung) inflam'd the queen of love; 
 Nor Hylas, nor NarciJJus look'd fo gay, 
 When the clear ftreams his rofy blufli difplay. 
 
 In
 
 [i8] fte.Hiftory of Jofeph. 
 
 In all his conduct fomething noble fhone, 
 Which meant him for a greatnefs yet unknown. 
 Vifions had oft' his rifmg fate foretold : 
 The laft to Jacob thus his lips unfold, ]& 313 W 
 
 His brethren by : when fleep had clos'd mine cyet, 
 A corny field before my fancy flies $ 
 (Still to my thoughts the yellow crop appears !} fraftW 
 My brothers with me reap'd the bending ears i 
 Induftrious each a fmgle Iheaf had bound, -j 
 
 When theirs with fudden motion mine furround, > 
 And bow'd with proitrate rev'rence to the ground. 3 
 But now my mind of rural bufinefs clear'd. 
 Above my head a wond'rous fcene appear'd ; 
 The moon and ftars at higheft noon mone bright, 
 Unconquer'd by the fun's fuperior light ; 
 Methought I faw the gaudy orbs defcend, 
 And at my feet with humble homage bend. 
 
 The fhepherds hear his ftory with furprife : 
 Muft we thy vaffals be f proud djhur cries, 
 With rage and threatning malice in his eyes. 
 
 I 
 
 AtMamre, Jacob and his fav'rite ftay, 
 The reft to Dotban"& flow'ry meadows ftrayj 
 Infernal envy all their bofoms fires, aftx^ 
 
 And black refolves and horrid thoughts mfpires. 
 At laft young Jofepti 's murder is defign'd ; 
 Hell with the monftrous treachery combiu'd^o jiohov^Q 
 
 He comes to Dot ban, by his father fent, ^ Ybo> qT 
 And heav'a alone his ruin can preventing s4j raoii bflA 
 
 Their
 
 fbe Wftory of Jofeph. [19] 
 
 Their guiltlefs prey he ftands, without defence, 
 But inborn worth, and fearlefs innocence. 
 His brethren's crimes, his father's hoary hairs 
 Were all the fubjea that alarm'd his fears. 
 
 The fatal flroke they now prepare to give, 
 When Reuben 1 1 arts the hopelefs youth retrieve, 
 By thus advifing, let your brother live. 
 A thoufand eafy methods yet remain, 
 To render all his glorious projefls vain ; 
 But till we have determined the defign, 
 To yonder pit th'afpiring boy confine. 
 To him they yield, and to their tents retire, 
 The fiends below their own fuccefs admire. 
 
 The night prevails, and draws her fable train, 
 With filent pace, along the ethereal plain. 
 By fits the dancing ftars exert their beams ; 
 The filrer crefcent glimmers on the ftreams ; 
 The fluggifh waters, with a drowfy roar, 
 And lingering motion, roll along the more j > 
 Their murmur anfwers to the ruftling breeze, 
 That faintly whifpers thro' the nodding trees ; 
 The peaceful echoes, undiilurb'd with found, 
 Lay flumb'ring in the cavern'd hills around ; 
 Frenzy and faction, love and envy flept ; 
 A ftill folemnity all nature kept ; 
 Devotion only wak'd, and to the ikies 
 Directs the pris'ner's pious vows and eyes : 
 To God's high throne a wing'd petition flew, 
 And from the Ikies commifiion'd Gabriel drew ; 
 
 1 
 
 One
 
 [20] 5T& Hiftory of Jofeph. 
 
 One of the feven, who by appointed tarns 
 Before the throne ambrofialincenfe burns. 
 
 A fudden day, returning on the night, 
 Vanquifh'd the fhades, and put the ftars to fligh 
 Th'enlighten'd cave receives the mining guefl, 
 In all his heav'nly pomp divinely drefs'd ; 
 He greets the youth, and thus his charge exprei 
 
 |WJ 
 
 fs'd. ) 
 
 To-morrow thou muft leave rich Jordan's more, 
 And trace Mortals facred hill no more ; 
 A great and grateful nation yet unknown, 
 Sav'd by thy care, mall thee their patron own ; 
 But let thy breaft impenetrable prove 
 To wanton beauty, and forbidden love : 
 This heav'n enjoins. The wond'ring fhepherd bow'd-; 
 The angel mounted on a radiant cloud. 
 
 The morning now her lovely face difplay'd, 
 And with a rofy fmile difpell'd the made. 
 The fadion rofe, and clofe in council fat, 
 On means that muft determine yoftptfs fate ; 
 Nor long they fat, for on the neighboring road 
 A train of camels with their fpicy load, 
 Follow'd by Midian merchants, travell'd by : 
 Heav'n marks the way, the envious brothers cry ; 
 Whatever th'ambitious dreamer's thoughts portend, 
 His hopes with thefe to foreign lands we'll fend. 
 
 They ftop the Midianitei, and foon agree, 
 Refolv'd no more his hated face to fee. 
 
 With
 
 ttc Hi/lcry of Jofeph. [21] 
 
 With looks, which perfeft inward anguiih tell, *V 
 And falling tears, he took this fad farewell. 
 
 I- go to wander on feme bara'rous clime, 
 May heav'nly juftice ne'er avenge this crime ! 
 Be ftill indujgcnt to ray father's age, 
 His grief for me with ftatt'ring hopes affwage. 
 
 They hear, they fee the anguifh of his foul, 
 And fcarce their ftruggling pity can control; 
 Touch'd with fo fad a fcene, they all begin 
 To feel remorfe for this unnatural fin, 
 And half repent : but hate and envy prove 
 Their viftor pafiions, and reprefs their love. 
 They form a fpecious fraud to hide the deed 
 From their old fire, and in'theplot fucceed. 
 Their brother's varied coat they ftill retain'd, 
 And with a bleeding kid the vefttnent ftain'd ; 
 With this to Mature treach'rous Sifnevn goes, 
 Too well the loft old-man the relick knows. 
 After a difmal paufe, his forrow breaks 
 Jcs violent way, and this fad language fpeaks. 
 
 My fon ! alas, fome favage monilar's prey ! 
 Why have I liv'd to this detefted day ? 
 Why have I lingred thus ? I fhould have dy'd, 
 When thy more happy mother left my fide, 
 
 My beft-Iov'd wife : but all my Rachel^ face 
 
 I could in thy refembling features trace. 
 Tormenting thought ! O hide me from the light ! 
 Its ufelcfs raysamift my feeble fight ;
 
 [22] We Hiftory of Jofeph, 
 
 Come lead me to the folitary grave, 
 Defpair and woe that dark retirement crave } 
 There (hall I, ftretch'd upon my dufty bed, 
 Forget the -toils of life, and mingle with thetlead. 
 
 In vain his friends attempt to bring relief, 
 Jn vain perfuade inexorable grief; 
 Tis deep, and intermingled with his foul, 
 Nor time, nor counfel can its force control, 
 
 ' 
 
 . 
 
 BOOK
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 A Defcription of Egypt, "jcith the Pyramids. Jofeph 
 fold by the Midian Merchants ta a Captain of the Royal 
 
 Guards. He leads him to his Palace. Shews his 
 
 Wife the handfom Captive. Her growing Pajjton 
 for him. A young A flyrian Maid endeavouring to 
 
 amufe and divert her Mijlre/s, tells her the Stoty of 
 
 Ninus and Semiramis. 
 
 MEAN while thro' favage woods, and defarts vaft, 
 The captive with his Midian mailers paft. 
 At lafl rich Egypt's pleafant coafts are feen, 
 The level meads dreft with irn mortal green ; 
 Between them fertile Nile direfls his courfe, 
 And nobly flows from his immortal fource. 
 Along the borders of the facred flood, 
 Afpiring groves and flately cities flood : 
 Here ancient Tanais in her height appeared, 
 Before Amphiorfs lute the Theban wall had rear'd. 
 
 The fun's devoted city, radiant On, 
 With roofs embofs'd, and golden foliage flione ; 
 Ere fkilful Vulcan was at Lemnos nam'd, 
 Or Cynthia's darts, or Ihlelds for Pallas fram'd. 
 
 Diftinft from thefe, on the Pelufian ftrand?, 
 Anfana crown'd with filver turrets ftands ; 
 
 Rais'd
 
 [24] tte Hljiory of Jofeph. 
 
 Rais'd to its height, as old tradition tells, 
 By pow'rful magick, and fecur'd by fpells : 
 Th'Egyptian wizards here themfelves immure, 
 Converfe with hell, and praftife rites impure. 
 
 Now. mighty pyramids the fight furprife, 
 On Mafris plain the fpiral tow'rs arife. 
 Redcufa here magnificently fhrouds 
 Its lofty head among Surrounding clouds : 
 By Saurld built, the daring ftruclure flood 
 The fury of the univerfal flood. 
 Pbacat and S amir's pointed tops afcend, 
 And o'er the fields their length'ning {hades extend ; 
 T t heir compafs facred to the dead remain, 
 Within eternal night and filence reign ; 
 No lightfom ray falutes them from the fky, 
 But glaring. lamps depending from on high, 
 With fickly gleams the hollow fpace fupply. 
 Here ancient kings, embalm'd with wond'rous coft, 
 A long exemption from corruption boail : 
 In artful figures fome are fitting plac'd, 
 With fruitlefs pomp, and idle enfigns grac'd ; 
 While crhers ftretch'd in fleeping poftures lie, 
 On folding carpets of imperial dye : 
 Their hov'ring ghofts, pleas'd with this mimick pridr 
 Among the breathlefs carcafes refide, 
 But what prodigious things within were {hewn, 
 Were to the Hebrew ftranger yet unknown, 
 Aftonim'd at their outward bulk alone. 
 
 And nowarriv'd ivhere Zoaus wall incloi'd 
 Imperial tow'rs, the Midiaaites expos'd 
 
 Their
 
 The Hi/lory of Jofcph. [25] 
 
 Their fragrant traffick, with the handfom Have : 
 His mind beyond his years composed and grave ; 
 His alpel fomething fpoke divinely great, 
 Something that mark'd him for a nobler fate. 
 
 A generous captain, chief of P bar auk" > bands, % 
 Admiring much the graceful captive, ftands, C 
 
 Then gives the Midianites their full demands. 3 
 
 A fudden friendfhip in his breaft he finds, 
 Experienced only by unvulgar minds : 
 Some heav'nly being had prepar'd his thought, 
 And on his heart the kind impreflion wrought. 
 
 Without regret, young flranger, follow rr.e, 
 Said Potipbar, I now have ranfom'd thee ; 
 From fervitude this moment thou art free. 
 
 The youth received the favour with a grace, 
 That anfwer'd all the promife of his face. 
 
 Fronting the royal houfe, a ftru&ure crown'd 
 With turrets Hood, and palmy groves around ; 
 Difcourung, hither thro' the walks they went, 
 Both pleas' d alike, and equally content. 
 
 The feat they reach'd, when for a coftly veft 
 The mafter call'd ; in this the youth they drck'd : 
 No more difparag'd with a flave's attire, 
 His faultlefs fhape and features all admire. 
 His hair, like paleft amber, from his crown 
 In floating curls and fhining waves fell down. 
 
 VOL. II. b Youn*
 
 [26] fhe Hijlory of Jofeph. 
 
 Young Paris fuch furprifing charms difplay'd, 
 When firfl in gold and Tyrian filks array'd, 
 He laid his crook afide, forgot the fwain, 
 And bid adieu to lda\ fiow'ry plain. 
 
 iOV 1H 
 
 Then for his wife the captain bids them fend, 
 And (hews with boafting joy his purchas'd friend. 
 
 The fair Sabrina, lately made his bride, 
 Was in her beauty's celebrated pride. 
 Her large black eyes fhone with a fprightly fire, 
 And love at ev'ry fatal glance infpire. 
 The fwarthy luftre of her charming face 
 The full- blown lily and the rofe difgrace. 
 Her gloffy hair outvy'd the raven's wings, 
 And curl'd absut her neck in wanton rings. 
 Affe&edly fhe took a carelefs view, 
 And to her own apartment foon withdrew. 
 
 *7ofeph belov'd and happy long remain'd, 
 And from his lord fucceflive favours gain'd ; 
 Who now at home grown profp'rous, and abroad, 
 Believes his gueft fome favourable god : 
 He gives him o'er his houfe the full command, 
 Intruding all his treafures to his hand. 
 
 Mean time Sabrina feeds within her breaft 
 A ftcretfire, but fliame its rage fuppreft, 
 When firfl fhe law the charming Hebrew's eyes, 
 She felt, but well diflembled the furprife; 
 But thro 1 her various arts an inward care 
 The languors of her penfive looks declare. 
 
 Cyrena
 
 fbc Hiftory of Jofcph. [27] 
 
 Cyrena found the change, (a Syrian maid, 
 Well-born, but from her native coaits betray' J :} 
 She fa\v the change, but led by nicer laws, 
 Was thoughtlefs ftill of its reproachful caufe. 
 Her voice, her eafy wit, her eloquence, 
 Could hold the wilder! paffion in fufpenfe. 
 Attending oft' her miftrefs to a grove, 
 Their ufual walk with pleating tales fhe ftrove 
 To entertain her thoughts, and charm her grief ; 
 Nor faiPd her arts to give a ftort relief. 
 Her native clime the pleafing fubjec~l proves, 
 The Syrian pomp, their cuftoms, and their loves : 
 Among the reft Sabrina hears her name 
 Semiramh, a queen of ancient fame, 
 And ask'd her now the ftory to relate; 
 Repos'd beneath a fpreading palm they fat. 
 
 b 2 BOOK
 
 fcwn 
 V< 
 
 ;uoH) 
 
 (j'ps ;uo)w /Tia IMjaifoh g 
 9f Semiramis, exfoM, when an Infant, 
 
 'the Fields ; where Jhe is found, (covered with a fit 
 embroidered Mantle) by a Peafant, 'who carries her to 
 Simma, the Chief of the Kings Shepherds, by whom 
 fie is married to Menon, the principal Commander of 
 the A/Tynan Forces. Menon being called to the Siege 
 of Badlria, Jhe follows him in a martial Dijguife. 
 Menon difcovers her Sex to the King y (who marries 
 her after the Death of Menon. 
 
 TH E maid begins. Where fam'd Coa/fes. 
 laves 
 
 Rich Elan's borders with his facred waves, 
 Along the fields their tents the fhepherds fpread, au/iT 
 By them the king's unnumber'd flocks were fed. 
 
 ' 
 
 The filent dawn was mifty yet and gray, 
 And hoary moifture on the mountains lay. 
 Intent on rural cares, with early haite,tul insfiib Joi-f 
 A peafant near a rocky cavern paft j 
 Acrofs his path was rais'd a mofTy bedr' knc , 
 O'er that a rich embroider'd mantle fpread j 
 This, lifted up, reveal'd a lovely child, mrosaq n! 
 Which fairer than the rofy morning fmil'd :s avotq oT 
 
 r 
 

 
 ^be. Hi/lory of Jofeph. 
 
 The wond'ring (wain forgot his country cares, 
 And back to Simma's houfe the infant bears. 
 
 Simma his mafter was, tho' wealthy, juil : 
 The royal lands and flocks were made his truft ; 
 He riches ftill amafs'd without an heir, 
 And feeing now the child furpaffing fair, 
 He took and bred her with indulgent care : 
 In nothing he controls her growing years, 
 No coft to pleafe her boundlcfs fancy fpares: 
 
 When, by revolving moons, fucceffive time 
 Had brought her beauty to its perfect prime, 
 Her fhape was faultlefs, and in all her mien 
 Prefaging marks of majefty were feen : 
 No mortal e'er could boaft fo fair a face, 
 Such radiant eyes, and ib divine a grace. 
 A flow'ry wreath her beauteous temples crown'd, 
 Her fnovvy veft a crimfon girdle bound : 
 Thus drefs'd, me walks a goddefs o'er the plains, 
 Admir'd and lov'd by all the gazing fwains ; 
 To her the fragrant tribute of the fpring, 
 With am'rous zeal on bonded knees they bring. 
 
 Not diftant far from wealthy Simna's feat, 
 Heroick Menon own'd a fair retreat j 
 His rank, and early worth, the high command 
 Of all the fam'd AJjfyrian force had gain'd : 
 In peaceful times the chief whom all admir'd, 
 To prove a fofter happinefs, retir'd ; 
 'Twas here Semiramis his wifhes fir'd, 
 
 b 3 With 
 
 \
 
 [30} The Hi/lory of Jofeph. . 
 
 With ravim'd eyes her heav'nly face he view'd, 
 And for the glorious prize to Siarnj fu\l ; 
 ProfFrr'd with facred rites his vows to bind : 
 This honour pleas'd the ha'ighty virgin's mind ; 
 On meaner terms (he had his fuit deny'd ; 
 With virtue guarded and a noble pride, 
 The lover finds -fuccefs, but all his joys 
 A fudcen iummons from the king destroys, 
 
 "BaSlrla revolts, Ninus the tidings hears, 
 Himfelf in arms to meet the foe prepares. 
 But three fliort days ungentle fate allows 
 Sad Menon, for his fighs and parting vows : 
 He curft his martial charge, and publick famr, 
 And loaths th' incumbrance of a glorious name, 
 Which rends him now from all the joys of life, 
 His lov'd Semiramis, his charming wife. 
 
 She hears the king's command with lefs furprife, 
 And, Menon, banifli all your care, (he cries : 
 
 We cannot 'tis impoffible to part, 
 
 Love with heroick courage fires my heart. 
 To follow you thro' raging feas I'd go, 
 O'er burning defarts, or perpetual fnow. 
 By your example led, I mail not fear 
 The flying arrow, or the pointed fpear ; 
 Pierc'd with a fatal dart, were Msnon by, 
 'Twould be a fort, an eafy thing, to die. 
 Th' event be what it will, with you I'll run 
 To certain death, nor any danger ihun ; 
 Be witnefs to my vows thou radiant fun ! 
 
 Nor
 
 fbe Hiftory of Jofeph. [3 1 J 
 
 Nor can th' advent'rous deed my condudl (lain, 
 
 Secure with you the fecret fhall remain ; 
 
 I boldly can defy all other eyes, 
 
 In threatening armour, and a martial gulfe. 
 
 New pleafure fills the hero's breaft, to find 
 Such beauty, love, and ftedfaft virtue join'd. 
 A thoufand kind tranfporting things he faid, 
 A thoufand vows of lading paffion made : 
 Then for a rich habiliment of war 
 He fent, and drefs'd himfelf the fmiling fair. 
 
 A coftly helmet gliter'd on her head, 
 On which a dove its filver pinions fpread ; 
 A plume of whiteft feathers danc'd above, 
 With every trembling breath of air they move. 
 Th' embroidsr'd fcarf that o'er her armour flow'd, 
 With dazzling flames of gold and fcarlet glow'd. 
 Her hand a javelin (hook with mimick pride, 
 A painted quiver rattled by her fide. 
 Her height and mien adorn the warlike drefs, 
 More vigorous rays her charming eyes exprefs. 
 The courfer, of his beauteous burden proud, 
 With golden trappings bounded thro' the crowd, 
 
 Menon, of Syrian arms the grace and pride, 
 Kept near the lovely mafquerader's fide. 
 On D lira's plain the Babylonian force 
 In ranks attend their mighty leader's courfe. 
 While Ninas, graceful as a martial god, 
 Exalted on his glittering chariot rode. 
 
 b 4 The
 
 llt'Riftcry of Jofeph. 
 
 The Baffrfaas their approaching foes difdain, 
 Refolv'd their fortrefs bravely to maintain ; 
 And long the town with matchlefs courage held, 
 And oft' to flight th*4rmenintt troops compell'd : 
 'Till bold Seimramis, who danger fought, ' ' 
 And fearlefs in the foremoft ranks had fought, 
 Obferv'd a rock, which o'er a oiftle lean'd ; 
 The Ba&rt'atfs this were carelefs to defend, 
 Believing it from all accefs fecure : 
 She finds a path among the cliffs obfcure ; 
 Then with a chofen band intrepid gains 
 The top, and foon the unguarded fort obtains. 
 The town thus made the fierce befieger's prey, 
 To her they gave theconqueft of the day. 
 All prais'd the youth, (for fuch fhe was believ'd) 
 Her bold addrefs each party had deceiv'd ; 
 Put Ninas moft her fortitude admires, 
 He views her blooming youth, her race enquires. 
 
 Menon in dotage loft, with foolifh pride, 
 No more the fatal fecret ftrives to hide ; 
 Nor once imagin'd this unlucky boaft, raoii 
 
 The joy of all his future life muft coft. 
 JV/j with other eyes her beauty views, 
 In other terms his gratitude renews. . 
 
 To Babylon return'd, he yet conceal'd 
 H is growing flame, by Menon & worth withheld ; 
 Too well he with a fad Reflexion knows, 
 What to his counfel, and his fword he owes ; 
 Thefe gen'rous ties at firft his love oppofe :
 
 bt Hiftory of Jofeph. [33] 
 
 But nothing can th' iqcreafing rage reftrain ; 
 By gentle means he yet his end would gain. 
 
 <bbd 39611J03 ablffoiBfti 
 Mensit, he faid, my wilhes to procure, 
 I'll give thee cities, and a boundlefs ilore 
 Of gold, and precious gems ; and for a bride, 
 A blooming princefs to the crown ally'd : 
 All this, and more, to gain her love I'll give ; 
 Without Stmirami* I cannot live. .'^ ^ . 
 
 . 
 
 Refenting Menon, with a handfom pride, 
 Refus'd his offers, and the fuit deny'd. 
 
 The fofter fex he next attempts to gain ; 
 She too rejects his paflion with difdain. 
 What now avail the glories of the Eaft ? 
 Nor wealth, nor empire can procure his reft. 
 Tir'd with unheeded fighs, and fruitlefs pray'r, 
 He tries more rig'rous means toeafe his care ; 
 
 And threatens thus : With my defires comply, 
 
 Or foon prepare to fee your hero die. 
 
 From Menin this flic hides, who lefs fevere 
 Obferves her to the am'rous king appear : 
 His fondnefs with the jealous paflion grows ; ^ 
 
 No joy, no lightfom interval he knows, C 
 
 The mingled frenzy gives him no repofe. \ 
 
 She falfe ! he cries, my fair, enchanting wife ! 
 And can I yet protract this wretched life ; 
 "This anxious heart, with hopelefs grief opprefs'd, 
 - In death's cold Ihade fhall iind perpetual reft, 
 
 bs He
 
 [ 3 4] ?* 
 
 He faid ; then all the hoftile flats defy'd, 
 And plungM the fatal weapon in his fide. 
 
 A long adieu ! Semiramis, he cries ; 
 With thofe lov'd accents on his lips he dies ; 
 She hears the parting groan, and to his fuccour fliei. 
 Sunk on fhe 'floor fhe fees her lover bleed, 
 Himfelf the author of the barb'rous deed ; 
 But true to love, and virtue's ftri&eft la\vs, 
 She neither knew, nor could fufpedl the cauie. 
 SeizM with a fudden horror and furprife, 
 She faints, and near the breathlefs carcafe lies j 
 Her frighted women to her refcue hafte, 
 And wake the doubtful fpark of life, at laft. 
 A hollow groan enfues ; with feeble fight 
 She meets the day, and loaths the flaming light, 
 A ftedfafl forrow in her face appears, 
 Above the foft relief of female tears ; 
 Silent as death, her words no utt' ranee find, 
 To tell the inward anguifa of her mind : 
 A fixt, fedate, and rational defpair 
 Compos'd her looks, and fettled in her air. 
 
 In fuch a fallen calm the billows fleep, 
 go fmooth an afpeft wears the gloomy deep ; 
 While treach'rous winds their gath'ring breath refrain,, 
 Prefacing tempefts on the troubled main. 
 
 Th' impatient prince with jufl refpeft attend* 
 Her ebbing grief, and long his flame fufpends ; 
 And long her ftedfaft thoughts relentlefs prove 
 To proffer'd empire, and inviting love : 
 
 Till
 
 
 We Hiftory of Jofeph. [35] 
 
 Till fate itfelf her ftubborn heart inclin'd T 
 
 To take a crown, by all the fhrs defign'd, 
 
 And fill a fphere proportion'd to her mind. V 
 
 5 
 
 Niaus was now of ev'ry wim pofleft, 
 With fov'reign rule, and brighter pleafure bleft : 
 But ah ! how ftiort a boaft has mortal joy ? 
 What fudden ftorms the flatt'ring calm deftroy ? 
 What human privilege, what lawlefs poVr 
 Can one Ihort day retard th' appointed hour ? 
 
 Thrice thro' the midnight filence, from the ground, 
 The ftartled monarch hears a warning found ; 
 Thrice Menon"& ghoft a frowning fpeclre ftands, 
 And feems to beckon with his airy hands. 
 A fudden faintnefs feiz'd his trembling heart, 
 While hafty life retires from every part ; 
 Speechlefs and pale his eye-balls roll in death, 
 While with reludtant pangs he yields his breath. 
 
 The mournful princefs to his merit juft, 
 With wond'rous pomp interr'd the royal dull : 
 High on a mount his fepulchre {he plac'd, 
 With marble fpires, and pointed arches grac'd. 
 She bids farewel to love's deceitful flame ; 
 Refolv'd to leave behind a glorious name, 
 In coftly ftru&ures of immortal fame. 
 
 A lofty dome to Selus firft me built : 
 The inward roof with dazling filver gilt ; 
 The god was famion'd in a wond'rous mold, 
 With perfect art > his bulk was mafly gold ; 
 
 His
 
 [36] Me Hijlory of Jofeph. 
 
 His facred utenfJs were all the fame,;rdj saa 
 While fragrant oils in golden fockets flame. f . 
 
 Old fiabel next with boundlefs coft fhe wall'd jnyM 
 And Batylon the fpacious city call'd ; irJboi? 
 
 Its bounds with forts and battlements were crown'd, } 
 And compafs'd in an endlefa traft of ground, S 
 
 Valleys and level'd hills the vail extent furround : \ 
 Where fronting ranks of palaces were feen, 
 With ftreams, and groves, and painted meads be- 
 
 tween. 
 
 Euphrates in its courfe the town divides, 
 While thro' the midft his ftatcly current glides. 
 Around the place a hundred gates unfold, 
 Thro' which a hundred glitt'ring chariots roll'd ; 
 Which all forjlate attend the queen's commands, 
 When fhe her progrefs makes thro' diitant lands. 
 Refolv'd to vifit now the neighb'ring Medes t 
 Her train fhe o'er the lofty Sagris leads. 
 At pompous Ecbatana now fhe ftaid, 
 And all her own magnificence difplay'd. 
 Gay projeds here employed her aftive mind, 
 Gardens, and feats of pleafure fhe defign'd j 
 
 Luxurious nature with her art combin'd. 
 
 ' 
 
 Not far from thence a plain extended lay, 
 Withflately groves and flow'ry verdure gay ; 
 The fpreading palm, the cedar, and the pine, 
 Arching above their mingled branches join. 5/i2 
 
 * ari.T 
 
 Seatiramit now turns an ancient flood, 
 ^ith matchlcfs labour, thro' the charming wood ; 
 
 Th
 
 ffa Hiftoty of Jofeph, [37] 
 
 The plenteous ftream in various rills divides, 
 
 While marble bounds confine the cryftal tides. 
 
 In marble bafons of an equal row, 
 
 Myrtle, and balm, and flow'ry Cajfia grow. 
 
 Prodigious rocks intire were hither brought, 
 
 Smooth arches thro' their craggy fides were wrought : 
 
 Here artificial hills their fummits rear, 
 
 For made retiring grctts around appear. 
 
 In various bloom the valleys flood below, 
 
 From far the beauteous Syrian rofes glow. 
 
 All that perfumes the bleft Sat<fan fields 
 
 Grows here, with all that facred Nyfa yields. 
 
 Here breath'd the fragrant Calamus, and Fir t 
 
 Cinnamon, Frankincenfe, and weeping Myrrhe. 
 
 Shrill birds among the fpicy .branches fing, 
 
 Their warbling notes along the valleys ring : 
 
 The winds and waters with a gentle noife 
 
 Double the found> and anfwer ev'ry voice. 
 
 The queen a while had thefediverfions prov'd, 
 And then her court to Babylon remov'd : 
 But ah ! what heights f happinefs are free 
 From fickle chance, or certain deftiny ? 
 The princefs finds a fwift decay control 
 The ufual force and vigour of her foul ; 
 Nor ftruggling nature could its force. repel, 
 While heav'n and earth the publick change foretel. 
 
 She from the oracle enquires th' event, 
 The flatt'ring priefts this pleafing anfwer fent : 
 That from the Gods {he drew her heav'nly race, 
 And fhortly muftth' immortal number graced3i&ai d; 
 
 Pleab'd
 
 [38] fkg Hifloty of Jofeph. 
 
 Pleas'd with the glories of her future ftate, 
 She yields without reluftance to her fate. 
 
 Cyrena'cnda her tale ; the doling day 
 Withdrew its fplendour, and forbid their flay. 
 
 BOOK
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 Jofeph's M'tjlrefs At loft difcovers her criminal 
 
 to him, but is repuli'd. She complains to her Nurfe t 
 who vainly tries the Force of Spells. She is fent by 
 her M'tjlrefs to Harpinus. His Cell defcribed. He 
 confults the Planets, and flatters her with Succefs ; 
 till finding the Hebrew Youth inflexible to all her 
 Chi.rms, Jhefaljly accufes him to bis Majler by ijckom 
 he is confined to a Prifon* 
 
 STILL with impatient love Salrina pines, 
 A nd now to fpeak the fatal truth defigns ; 
 Sooth'd by her own indulgent hopes, which trace 
 A fecret paffion in the Hebrews face. 
 He fighs, and when he thinks himfelf alone, 
 Oft feems fome new misfortune to bemoan, 
 In foreign Accents, and a tongue unknown. 
 Her vanity an explanation found, 
 And put a fenfe on every flatt'ring found, 
 Forgetful of her nuptial vows and fame, 
 She fondly thus betrays her guilty flame. 
 
 If yet my torments are to thee unknown, 
 If yet my fighs the myfl'ry have not mewn, . 
 Infenfible, let this confeffion prove 
 The ftrange excefs, and grandeur of my love. 
 
 Yet
 
 [40] Tfa. Hiftory of Jofeph, 
 
 Yet had I ftill my wild deiires fupprefs'd, 
 Had not thine eyes an cqaal flame confe&'d. 
 
 Let me be puoim'd with the laft difdain, 
 He faid, if e'er I harbour'd thoughts fo va^p^^^ -^Q 
 I ne'er Sabrina's favour fo abus'd, . . . ;i.^\ jj-jjrj 3fTF 
 Nor once your virtue in my heart accas'd. 
 Should I perfidious (heav'n forbid ! ) offend 
 My gen'rous mailer, -I might fay my friend; 
 Let fcandal fink my name, when fo unjuft 
 I prove, fo falfe to hofpitable truft ! 
 
 l,H 
 Thus with a modefl turn he would reclaim , 
 
 Her.am'rous frenzy, and conceal her fhame ; 
 
 Nor waits her leave, but haftily withdrew. 
 ' ' 
 
 Carelefs her limbs upon a couch fhe threw, 
 
 And curft her folly with a thoufand tears ; 
 
 Till Iphicle, her artful nurfe, appears : 
 
 Of fo much grief me prefs'd to know the caufe, jj^ 
 
 At laft the fecret from her miftrefs draws. 
 
 You wrong, the Beldam cries, your own defert, 
 For you have charms, the youth a human heart. 
 Your beauty might a favage breaft infpire, 
 At fight of you the coldeft age takes fire. 
 JBut where's the wonder that a baftiful boy, 
 Should, at the firft addref$, be nice and coy ? .^^ 
 He loves no doubt, and languimes like you, 
 But fears th' ambitious motive to purfue : 
 Nor mail your utmoft withes want redrefs, 
 I have a draught that gives divine fuccefs ;
 
 r& tiiflory of Jofeph. [4 1 ] 
 
 Nepenthe, which th' immortals quaff above ; 
 Thcfc facred drops rewarded Cbemif love. 
 
 When Totis, by his death, the full command 
 Of Mifraim left in fair Cbarolas hand, 
 The rich Gebirus from Cbaldea came 
 With foreign pomp to feek the royal dame. 
 Chemii adorn'd his train, whofe charming face 
 Allur'd a goddefs of the wat'ry race } 
 On Nilus* banks the young Chaldean Hood, 
 When lo ! Merino, riling from the flood, 
 Her chariot fet with pearl, the wave divides, 
 Softly along the filver ftream me glides. 
 Her robes with pearl and fparkling rubies (hine, 
 Her brighter eyes exprefs a light divine. 
 Nor from her humid bed the blooming day 
 Has e'er afcended with a clearer ray. 
 Her fmiles the raging tempefts could appeafe, 
 Allay the winds, and calm the fwelling feas. 
 She leaves her cryftal vaults, and coral groves, S 
 
 Her liquid kingdoms, and immortal loves, ^ 
 
 And o'er the grafly meads with Chemii roves. \ 
 
 At parting gave him this celeftial fpell, 
 Which ev'ry good procures, and can each ill repel. 
 My mother from this youth derives her line, 
 And this (he left me, as a gift divine, 
 By all her anceftors preferv'd with care ; 
 One heav'nly drop fliall banifh your defpair. 
 
 Her flatt'ring nurfe's charm me vainly tries, 
 For Jofeph ftill her hateful paffion flies : 
 
 But
 
 [42] ?be Hifiory of Jofeph. 
 
 But obftinate in love to gain her ends, 
 To fam'd Anfccna Ipbicle flie fends. 
 
 Harpinus there an uncouth dwelling own'd, 
 Planted wi:h yew and mournful cyprefs round ; 
 Whofc lhadows every pleafing thought control, 
 And fill with deep anxiety the foul. 
 Hither black fiends at dead of night advance, 
 The horned Serim thro' the darknefs dance : 
 From earth, from air, and from the briny deep 
 They come, and here noflurnal revels keep. 
 From gloomy Achtrufia, and the fen 
 Of Serbon, and .the foreft of Birdenei 
 From Opbiodes, the ferpent ifle, they come, 
 And Sjrtet, where fantaftick fpeclres roam ; 
 From Ckabnus, and the wild Pfebariaa peak, 
 Whofe hoary cliffs the clouds long order break, 
 
 In hellifh banquets, and obfcene delights, 
 The curft aflembly here confume the nights. 
 The fick'ning moon her feeble light withholds, 
 In fable clouds her argent horns fte folds j 
 The conftellations quench their glimm'ring fire t 
 And frighted far to diftant fkies retire. 
 
 Amidft thefe horrors, in his echoing cells, 
 And winding vaults, the Necromancer dwells : 
 Faffing from room to room, the brazen doors 
 Refound, as when exploded thunder roars. 
 The day excluded thence, blue fulphur burns, 
 With frightful fplendour, in a thoufand urns. 
 
 The
 
 *rhe Hiftory of Jofeph. [43] 
 
 The Wizard here employs his mighty fpells, 
 
 And great events by divination tells; 
 
 Inscribing myftick figures on the ground, 
 
 And mutt'ring words of an unlawful found; 
 
 Which from their tombs the fhiv'ring ghofts compel, 
 
 And force them future fecrets to reveal. 
 
 The ftars he knew, when adverfe, or benign j ^ 
 
 When with malignant influence they mine, V 
 
 Or, darting profp'rous rays, to love incline. ^ 
 
 The nurfe a pleafing anfwer here obtain'd, 
 And thus Sabrintfs drooping thoughts fullain'd. 
 The third fucceeding day fhall crown your love, 
 And every am'rous liar propitious prove. 
 
 Sabrina feeds the while her guilty flame, 
 And now the third appointed morning die ; 
 When for the favour'd youth in haite fhe fends : 
 The meflage with reludlance he attends. 
 Silent fhe fits ; while waiting her commands, 
 Fix'd at a formal diftance long he Hands. 
 Her eyes ftill fix'd on Jofepfrs beauteous face; "\ 
 
 A clofe contempt, and inward hatred trace ; 
 
 Yet defp'rate to compleat her own difgrace. j 
 
 Ungrateful youth ! Ihe cries, too well I find 
 By thefe cold look?, thy unrelenting mind, 
 Thy favage temper, and unconquer'd pride, 
 By words of facred import thou wouldft hide, 
 Thou talk'ft of holy ties, and rules fevere, 
 Pretending fome avenging God to fear, 
 
 What
 
 [44] Tb-'&Jlory of Jofeph. 
 
 What God, alas I does cruelty command ? 
 
 Or human blifs malicioufly withstand ? 
 
 Such thoughts as thefe the heav'nly powers arraign, 
 
 Efface their goodnefs, and their juftice ftain. 
 
 Would they the gen'rous principle control, 
 
 Who gave this amorous bias to the foul ? 
 
 What nature is, they made it : nor can bind 
 
 With fervile laws the freedom of the mind : C 
 
 Were this our lot, happy the brutal kind, X 
 
 That unmokfted thro' the foreft rove, 
 
 Licentious in their choice, and unconfin'd in love ! 
 
 Virtue ! a nicer imaginary thing ? 
 
 Torment it may, but can no pleaiure bring. 
 
 Honour ! 'tis nothing but precarious fame, 
 
 For empty breath, for a fantaftick name. 
 
 Wilt thou my foft intreaties ftill deny, 
 
 And fee me languilh, and unpity'd die ? 
 
 Confent at laft to love's enchanting joys, 
 
 While pleafure calls thee with her tempting voice : 
 
 Thefe folding curtains (hall our blifs conceal, 
 
 That no intruding eye our theft reveal. 
 
 Deluded fair ! the noble youth replies, 
 Could we fome artful labyrinth devife 
 To hide our fin, and far from mortal fight 
 Retire, involv'd in all the Ihades of night; Jo wig 
 Yet there, expos'd to heav'n's unclouded view, <i fm 
 Its vengeance would our treachery purfue; ? **Q slEJ A. 
 Diftinguifh'd plagues would foon our guilt expofe> ; bflA, 
 While all "your fex's glory you muft loie. . .-; it b'irmJA 
 To Potipbar alone your vows belong, 
 In him a tender lover you muft wrong. 
 
 For
 
 'fbe Hiftory of Jofeph. [45] 
 
 For me, where mould I hide my hated face, 
 
 Could I be confcious of a crime io bafe ? c:murf t 
 
 No, let me thro' the yawning earth defcend,^aorlj riau 
 
 Rather than with fuch infolence offend -ooos -iitrff 3D&!liC 
 
 The laws of God, and kindnefs of my friend I J 
 
 My matter's favours, endlefs to recite, ; gvBJJ orfW 
 
 When I with fuch ingratitude requite ; f.i iirtfi JftV3 
 
 V^hen with a thought fo horrid and prophane, 
 
 My faith and fpotlefs loyalty I ftain ; 
 
 Let wrathful lightnings flaming round my head. 
 
 And bolts of raging thunder ftrike me dead ! 
 
 Let execrations, and eternal fhame 
 
 Deftroy my peace, and blaft my hated name! 
 
 Thefe words with fuch an awful ajr he fpoke, 
 Celeftial virtue fparkling in his look, 
 His haughty miftrefs all her hopes refign'd, 
 And felt a different frenzy feize her mind : 
 Afliding fiends the hellifh thought fuggeft, 
 And blot the tender paffion from her breaft. 
 A crimfon fcarf with ornamental pride 
 Was o'er his graceful moulders loofely ty'd ; 
 This furioufly me fnatch'd, while from th' embrace 
 He frees himfelf, and quits the hated place. 
 
 She call'd aloud, her voice Cyrena hears, 
 And ent'ring faw her well-dirTembled tears, 
 A tale of proffer'd violence (he feigns, 
 And of the Hebrew's arrogance complains. 
 Alarm'd at her repeated calls, me faid, 
 The moniter left his curft defign, and fled, 
 
 , a ua<( tsvtsl lahas) & au& nl 
 
 H 

 
 [46] ffo Hiftory of Jofcph, 
 
 His fcarf the truth confirm'd : her lord 
 Returns ; her words his eafy faith beguile : 
 Blinded with rage he calls the injur'd youth, 
 And thus upbraids his violated truth. 
 
 How can'ft thou, wretch ! belie a mind fo bafe, 
 With that undaunted air, and guiltlefs face ? 
 Hypocrify fo Heady and compleat, 
 A villain, cautious as thyfelf, might cheat ; 
 No wonder then thy pra&is'd faintly (hew* 
 Should on my honeft artlefs mind impofe. 
 My foul entire to thee I did refign ; 
 Except my bed, whate'er I had was thine. 
 In fetters let th' ungrateful flave be ty'd, 
 Some gloomy dungeon fhall the monfter hide. 
 
 Dungeons he faid, and chains I can defy, 
 But would" not, curft with your difpleafure, die. 
 This fad reflexion aggravates my fate : 
 How (haR I bear my gen'rous mailer's hate ? 
 Oh flay J at laft my vindication hear, 
 While by th' Unutterable Namt I fwear, 
 My thoughts are all from this injuftice clear. 
 
 He ceas'd, and ftill Salnta's mame conceals, 
 Nor one accufing word her fraud reveals. 
 Now to a damp unwholfom vault convey'd, 
 Jofepb in ignominious chains is laid. 
 
 BOOK
 
 BOOK VII, 
 
 ^a Angel wifits Jofeph / Prifon, and in a prophetic 
 Vijion flews him bis own Advancement, and ike fu- 
 ture Fate of bis Father's Pofletity, their Bondage and 
 miraculous Deliverance. The Keeper of the Ward 
 conniinc *d of 'Jofeph' 'j Innocence, treats him with great 
 Efteem. The Dreams of his Fe Hoiv-Prifone rs ; and 
 Jofeph'j Interpretation. 
 
 jf |"'^WAS night, and now advanc'd the folemn 
 
 X hour ; 
 
 The keeper of the prifon, from his tow'r, 
 Aftonifh'd, fees a form divinely bright, 
 Smile thro' the fhades, and diiTipate the night; 
 With ftreaming fplendor tracing all the way, 
 It enters where the new-come pris'ner lay. 
 
 Some God, he cries, who innocence defends, 
 Some God in that propitious light defcends. 
 This ftranger fure, whate'er the facl can be 
 Alledg'd againft him, from the guilt is free. 
 
 The facred vifion to the youth appears, 
 His fpirits with celeftial fragrance chears. 
 His heav'nly fmiles would ev'n defpair control, 
 And with immortal rapture fill the Soul. 
 
 His
 
 [48] be Htftory of Jofeph. 
 
 His youthful brows a fair Tiara erown'd, 
 A folding zone his gaudy veftments bound, 
 Embroider'd high with Amaranthui round. 
 Such wings th' Arabian Phoenix never wore, 
 Sprinkled with gold and (hading purple o'er. 
 Beneficent his afpecT: and addrefs, 
 His lips feraphick harmony exprefs ; 
 His voice might ftay th' invading fleep of death, 
 While thefe foft words flow with his balmy breath. 
 
 From the unclouded realms of day above, 
 From endlefs pleafures, and unbounded love, , 
 From painted fields deck'd with immortal flow'rs, 
 From blifsful valleys, and ethereal bow'rs, 
 I come, commiffion'd by peculiar grace, 
 With great prefages to thy future race. 
 
 This Gabriel fpoke ; the pious Hebrew's bread 
 Prophedck flame and pow'r divine confeft : 
 An awful filence, and profound fufpence, 
 Clos'd the tumultuous avenues of fenfe; 
 The heav'nly trance, each wand'ring thought confin'd,7 
 Collects the operations of the mind, .> 
 
 While Gabriel all the inward fcene defign'd. } 
 
 Before him, rais'd to high dominion, all 
 His humble brethren in proftration fall ; 
 His joyful eyes again his father fee, 
 He takes the blefling on his bended knee. 
 Vaftly in numbers Jacob's fons increas'd, 
 Poor vaflals by th 1 Egyptians are diftrefs'd, 
 And by a royal tyrant's yoke opprefs'd : 
 
 To 
 
 \
 
 ?be Hiftory of Jofeph, [49] 
 
 To heav'a they cry, an aid that never fail?, 
 Heav'n hears the cry, the potent pray'r prevails. 
 
 A mighty prophet, by divine command, "^ 
 
 Does bold before die raging monarch Hand, p> 
 
 And orings his great credentials in his hand. \ 
 
 Acrofs the ground his wond'rous rod he throws ; 
 The rod transferred a moving ferpent grows, 
 Unfolds his fpeckled train, and o'er the pavement 
 
 flows. 
 
 A dazzling train of miracles enfue, 
 Which fpeak the prophet and his miffion true. 
 
 The fprings, the ftanding lakes, and running 
 
 flood, 
 
 His pow'rful word converts to reeking blood j 
 The wounded billows ftain the verdant more, 
 Advancing (lowly with a mournful roar. 
 Infernal night her fable wings extends, 
 And from the black unbottom'd deep afcends : 
 The feer denounces plagues on man and bcail ; 
 Contagious torments foon the air infeft ; 
 Aloud he bids a fudden tempeft rife, 
 On rapid wings the florm obedient flies ; 
 Th' extended ikies are rent from pole to pole, 
 Blue lightnings flafh, and dreadful thunders roll. 
 
 Nor yet th' obdurate king the God reveres, 
 Whom ev'ry element obfequious fears ; 
 Till vengeful ftrokes of pow'r confefs'd divine, 
 With clear, but terrible conviclion mine. 
 
 The
 
 $50] Me Hiftory of Jofeph. 
 
 The night was cover'd with umifual dread,. 
 While ev'ry ilar malignant influence med, 
 Pale fpeclres thro' the ftreets of Zoan roam, 
 From fepulchres amazing echoes come ; 
 While, like a flaming meteor, down the fkies, h/SW-- 
 With threatening fpeed the fatal angel flie,i s \d iJL 
 Rcludlant jufiice, with a grace fevere, 
 Sits in his looks, and triumphs in his air. 
 A crsfted helmet (hades his awful brows ; 
 Behind his military vefture flows, 
 And like an ev'ning's ruddy meteor glows. 
 He grafps his fword, unfheath'd for certain fate, 
 Deflrudion, death, and terror on him wait : 
 Mortal the ftroke, inviiiblc the wound, 
 While dying groans with mingled fhrieks refound. - 
 From houfe to houfe the dreadful rumour runs, 
 While wretched fathers mourn their firft-born fons. 
 
 T1V alarm'd Egyptians, at the breaking day, 
 Hurry the facred multitude away : 
 But Pharaoh foon his daring fin renews, 
 Blafpheming loud the refcu'd flaves purfues ; 
 The fearful tribes ftand trembling on the more, 
 The fee behind, a raging fea before. 
 . 
 
 Their glorious chief extends his pow'rful wand, 
 And gives the mighty fignal from the ftrand ; 
 Th' obedient waves the mighty fignal take, 
 And parting, crowd the diftant furges back j 
 On either hand, like cryftal hilli , they rife, 
 Between a wide ilupendous valley lies ; 
 
 With
 
 The Iliftory of Jofcph. [5 1] 
 
 With joyful fhouts the grateful HeArtwt pafs, 
 Nor does the hardened foe decline the chace ; 
 'Till heav'n's command the watry chain difib!-vc, 
 And in the whelming c!ep their pride involves. 
 While Ifrael thro' the defart take their way, 
 Led by a cloud which marches on by day ; 
 But refling chear'd th' encamping hoii by night, 
 With lambent flame, and unexampled light. 
 
 Where lofty Siit&h fliades the neighboring plain, 
 ( Commanded now the facred tribes remain j 
 Prepared with myftick rites, to hear with awe, 
 Their Saviour God pronounce their future law : 
 Clofe bounds the mountain guard from all approach 
 That ralhly none the hallow'd place might touch. 
 
 Reluctant fee th' appointed morning rife, 
 And fiery fplendors glow around the fkies. 
 While from th' ethereal fummit God defcends, 
 Beneath his feet the ilarry convex bends. 
 His radiant form majeftick darknefs hides, 
 While on a tempeft rapid wings he rides. 
 The trembling earth his awful prefence own*, 
 The foreft flames, the cleaving defert groans, 
 . Each river back his wand'ring current calls, 
 And rulhing down the fubterranean falls, 
 To the profoundeil caves affrighted flies, 
 Reveal'd and bare each fawdy channel lies. 
 Their flately heads the ancient mountains fuik, 
 And to a level with the vales would ihrink ; 
 Again fecure in. their primeval beds, 
 . .Beneath the waves would hide their fearful heads.' 
 
 c a Old
 
 [-52] Me Hlftory of Jofeph. 
 
 Old Sinab quakes at the tremendous weight, 
 That prefs'd with awful feet his cloudy height ; 
 Obfcur'd with blacknefs, fhades, and curling fmoke, 
 Prodigious lightnings from the darknefs broke i 
 While raging thunders round the welkin fly, 
 Th' ethereal trumpet founding loud and high. 
 
 Adoring low the pious nation bend, jj 3 rfT 
 
 And now the folemn voice of God attend : 
 The angel fhifts the fcene, and leaves the reft 
 Inimitable all, and not to be exprefs'd. 
 
 The curtain'd Tabernacle next he paints, 
 Nor colours for the gay pavilion wants } 
 The golden altar, with attending priefts, 
 Their facred pomp, and inflituted vefts. 
 Then brings the favour'd tribes where Jordan flows: 
 And all the well-known bord'ring landfkip (hews. 
 
 An airy conqueft on Betborotfs plain, 
 The warlike fons of Jacob's now obtain : 
 Before the troops a glorious leader ftands, 
 A painted jav'lin balanc'd in his hands; 
 He boldly thus the rolling orbs commands. Mquiq Ail 
 
 >) sift bVbiq I 
 
 Thou fun ! to lengthen this vidorioua dajflj svsg n3^1T 
 With ling' ring beams on lofty Gibeab flay : 
 And thou, fair morn ! retard thy hafty flight,^ 3nT 
 And gild the vales of Ajalon at night. 
 
 v-m bVbiqqO 
 
 This faid, the flying army they purfttfcoM Maiib dliW 
 And all the Amorean Icings o'crthre\T. 
 
 The
 
 The Hijlory of Jofeph. [53] 
 
 The promis'd land entirely gain'3, they fpread 
 Their peaceful dwellings round Mortals head. 
 
 But with the night the pleafing vifion flies ; 
 Gabriel unfeal'd the youthful prophet's eyeSj 
 His fenfes from the heav'nly trance releas'd, 
 And all the facred agitation ceas'd. 
 The thoughtful keeper early to the vault 
 Defcend?, and thence the injur'd pris'ner brought ; 
 Treats him with kindnefs, and a juft regard, 
 And gave him all the freedom of the ward. 
 
 Of Pbaraotf* fervants two were here detain'd, 
 The fteward, who his table did command, 
 With him that fill'd the royal cup with wine i 
 Sufpe&ed both as traitors in defign. 
 Jofepb, obferving a dejefted air 
 Sat heavy in their eyes, with friendly care 
 Enquires the caufe, which freely both reveal, 
 Myfterious dreams of the paft night they tell. 
 
 And thus the firft : Methought a bulky vine 1 
 
 Grew up unprop'd, three waving branches (hine > 
 With purple grapes, and to my hand incline : J 
 
 I prefs'd the tempting fruit without control, 
 Then gave to Pharoah's hand the flowing bowl. 
 
 The next begins : Three canifters replete 
 
 With royal viands, and luxurious meat, 
 Opprefs'd my drooping head, while birds of prey 
 With direful croakings fnatch'd the food away. 
 
 c 3 Unhappy
 
 [54] 
 
 Htftory <?/Jofeph.. 
 
 Unhappy man ! thy dream from God was fe 
 The Hebrew faid, and foil of black portent : 
 The third returning day mail bring thy doom, 
 When thou a prey to vultures {halt become. 
 
 Then to the firft, thefe joyful comments found \ 
 Before the fun has twice fulfilled his round, 
 Thou with thy former honours malt be crownM. 
 But in the triumph of thy profp'rous fate, 
 Kindly remember my unhappy fiate, 
 Who by the blackeft falmood here am ftay'd i 
 To this the man a courtier's promifc made* 
 
 BOO
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 Jofeph's Mijlrefs languijbti in Borrow and Remorfe for 
 her Treachery ', which Jbe cunfejffes in the Agonies of 
 Death. Pharoah's prophetic Drtamj interpreted 
 t>y Jofeph. His Grandeur and Marriage <v^lih the 
 Daughter of an Egyptian PrieJ). 
 
 BU T now Salrinas guilty fire returns, 
 Her bofom with the raging paffion burnt ; 
 She with a female tendsrnefs relents, 
 And all her former cruelty repent*. 
 By her accus'd, in chains the captive liw, 
 For whom fhe fondly languifhes and dies. 
 Tormented, and enraged, fhe often curft 
 Her pride, her folly, and revengeful lull. 
 A deep remorfe, from. conference of her (In, 
 With conftant horrors vex her foul within. 
 Her thoughts ten thoufand racking torments feel, 
 Yet in her rfreach'rous -crime obdurate ftill. 
 Her life and -youthful fpirits /melt away, 
 Her beauty withers with a fwift decay : 
 By day fhe wildly raves, con fumes the night ^ 
 
 In thoughtlefe watchings, and imagin'd fright ; > 
 While airy terrors glide before her fight. ^ 
 
 Pale ghofls with wide deftorted eye-balls flare, 
 And burning fpeclres thro' the darkncfe glare, 
 
 c 4 TiLl
 
 Me Hijlory of Jofeph. . 
 
 "^s^I E ilo saiuua s STOW *aG 
 
 Till forc'd by fate, and torments moreintenfe, 
 
 To vindicate fufpeded innocence, 
 
 To Pot if bar the hidden truth ihe tells, 
 
 And all the fauhlefs myikiy reveals. ,^ Q fj /, ^ A 
 
 ' niaJol arfj J/wrnsmoeuoiaaom ibiW 
 And now he comes infulting death f fhe cries, 
 Perpetual darknefs fwims before my eyes. 
 If there are Gods that human things regard, 
 My monftrous crimes will meet a juft reward. 
 Oh facred virtue ! at thine awful name 
 I Hart, and all my former thoughts difclaim ; 
 For thcu art. no fantaftick empty thing, 
 From thee alone unmingled pleafures fpring. 
 The world, the boundlefs univerfe I'd give, 
 My firfl unblemifti'd honour to'retrieve : 
 'Tis vainly wifh'd ! to fome ftrange realms below, 
 Some dark uncomfortable coafts I go. 
 
 She fpoke, and gafping in the pangs of death, 
 "With ling'ring agonies refign'd her breath : 
 While Jofepbby the courtier was forgot ; 
 Till fate the period of his freedom brought. 
 
 Th' ^Egyptian monarch from a fhort repo/e, 
 And troubled vifions, with the morning rofe. 
 T" explain the doubtful omens in his breafr, 
 He fummons ev'ry planetary prieft : 
 Their orders, which to different liars belong, 
 Were foon afferabled, a furprifing throng ; 
 Sullen their looks, and varied was their veft, 
 A wild Devotion thro' the whole exprefs'd. ;; Q 
 
 One
 
 The Hifiory of Jofeph, [37] 
 
 One wore a mantle of a leaden hue, 
 Travelling behind a fweeping length it drew J 
 With Poppies, Aconite, and Hellebore, 
 Mandrake, and Nigbtjhade, ftrangely figur'd o'er j 
 A treble twill of ferpents curling round, 
 With monflrous ornament the foldings bound. 
 
 ->nrtjolflt - imo39f{ woo bliA " 
 
 With fome a verdant foreft feem'd to mov^f' UifJaqirt 
 Their flowing robes with palmy branches wove. 
 With panthers/ bears, and ev'ry favage bealt 
 Exprefs'd in lively colours, fome were drefs'd. 
 On others eagles fpread their wings ; on fome 
 Appear'd the oftrich' hieroglyphick plume ; 
 While others wore a painted crocodile, 
 With all the monftrous progeny of Nile. 
 
 Nafar, a youth vow'd to the morn : ng (hr, 
 With budding rofes had adorn'd his hair. 
 His raiment of ineftimable coft 
 GlitterM with pearl, an imitate' frofl. 
 O'erfprcad with land&ips wrought in rn'r.lacure, 
 Surprifmg fcenes the ravifh'd fight allure : 
 Clear fountains, flow'ry walks, and myrtle groves, 
 Peacocks with gaudy trains, and fhining doves. 
 
 The prince with anxious locks relates his dreams^ 
 The doubtful fages fearch their heav'nly fchcmes : 
 But all their ftars were mute, the meaning files 
 In tracklefs darkneis, and obfcure diigaiie. 
 
 The bearer of the cup did now relief* 
 On his paft danger, and his bafe negktft j 
 
 c 5 Art
 
 [58] 2%e Hfiory */ Jofeph. 
 
 And thus his royal -matter he addrefs'd : 
 Be PbaroaJi-s bounty, and my guilt confefc'd, 
 When with my fellow criminal detain'd, 
 We by thy juftice in the ward remain'd, 
 A Hebrew youth, unjuitly there confin'd, 
 From nightly omens which perplsjc'd the mind, 
 With clear conviction did our Jot unfold ; 
 My honour, and the fteward's doom foretold^ 
 Amidft the folemn darkftefs of the night, 
 His cell was glhter'd with ethereal light ; 
 For highly favour' d by th* immortal jGo&, 
 To vific him they left their bright abodes. 
 
 unfetter'd, they from prifon bring, 
 I3y heav'n infpir'd, he (lands before the King ; 
 Who thus repeats his dream : Methought I flood 
 On the fair borders of our facred flood : 
 While, curious, I furvey.'d the fpreading fiream, 
 Seven bulky oxen from the river came, 
 Fat and well-favour'd : o'er the verdant mead 
 They proudly rang'd, and on the pafture fed ; 
 Wh^n juft their number rofe, of afpecl; four, 
 Jll-ihap'd, and meagre, who the firft devour. 
 The fcene was chang'd, when fpringing in my walk^ 
 Seven blades of corn adorn'd one bending ftalk 
 Kipen'd and fail ; when lo .' a fecond rears 
 His blalled top, with feven unfruitful ears ; 
 This Avallow'd greedily the former Here, 
 As the Lan oxen did the fat before. 
 I woke wkh great anxiety opprefs r d, 
 And for the meaning ev'ry God addrtfi J, 
 
 The
 
 .Sfifo mft&ry -of Jofeph. 
 
 The Almighty God o'er earth and flcies fupreme, 
 The youthful prophet cries, has fent this dream 
 To Pharaib, which difcovers future things ; 
 What changes on the world his pleafure brings. 
 With one intent the facred vifion came, 
 Of both the hidden meaning is the fame. 
 
 Seven plenteous years begin their joyful round, 
 The fields with boundlefs harveils fhall be crown'd 
 Then feven unprofp'rous years mail thefe devour, 
 And leave no remnant of the former {tore. 
 
 But that the people and the king may live, 
 This counfel heav'n commifilons me to give, 
 That walleful luxury fhould.be reftrain'd, 
 And wife intendants thro' the realm ordain'd : 
 Let thcfe againil the threat'ning ill provide* 
 Lay up the corn, and o'er the Itores prefide. 
 
 This youth by fome propitious pow'r was fcnt,. 
 The prince replies, our ruin to prevent : 
 Then bids them an imperial veilment bring, 
 And from his finger draws a coilly ring : 
 And this, he faid, a facred .pledge fhall be 
 Of thofe bright honours I referve for thee. 
 My pow'r, my kingdom 1 to thee refign, 
 The fov'reign title only mall be mine; 
 To thee my nobleft favourites fhall bow, 
 Our guardian God, out great preferver thoa I 
 
 His fecond chariot then the king ordains 
 Should be prepar'd : white ifteeds with fcarlet reins 
 
 The
 
 */ Jofeph. 
 
 The triumph drew ; they champ the golden bit, 
 
 And fpurn the dt'fly ground with airy feet. 
 
 On high with princely pomp the youth was plac'd, 
 
 With marks of pow'r, and regal enfigns grac'd; 
 
 Gay heralds, law the knee, before him cry, 
 
 The crowd adore him as he pafles by : 
 
 Nor here the royal favours were confin'd, .{ jsril 
 
 Great Fbaroatfs daughter is his bride defign'd. 
 
 The night had twice in fable triumph reign'd, 
 And twice the circling light its empire gain'd : 
 When from his high apartment Jofeph fees 
 A lofty temple, thro* the waving trees, 
 To I/is vow'd : He from the gilded dome, 
 llavifh'd, beheld a beauteous virgin come. 
 An artlefs modeffy improves her face, 
 An elegant referve, and matchJefs grace ; 
 A rofy tin&ure in her cheeks appears, 
 Lovely as that the blooming morning wears : 
 Her eyes a fprightly blue j her length of hair 
 Difheveird hung, like threads of filver fair. 
 Long firings of jet and pearl, ia mingled twifts, 
 Adorn'd her wtll-ihap'd neck, and ilendcr wrifls, 
 Her robes were heav'nly azure, fprinkled o'er 
 With ftars j a crefcent on her breail me wore. 
 
 The wounded Hebreiv for the virgin figh'd, 
 And felt a. growing paffion yet untry'd- : 
 Her lovely image, on his mind imprefo'd, 
 Had fix'd her empire in his yielding breaft. 
 Eut oh ! vyha: snguim did his foul invade, 
 Whin he was told, the lov'd enchanting maid 
 
 At
 
 fbg-"Hiftory of Jofeph. [6iJ 
 
 At I/is holy {hrine devoutly bow'd, 
 
 A virgin prieftefs to the goddefs vow'd ? 
 
 This, thii he cry 'd, muft all my hopes confound, 
 
 Helplefs my grief, incurable my wound ! 
 
 Mean time the fame uncontradided gees 
 That he th' ^Egyptian princefs muft efpoufe. 
 Pain'd and diitreiVd, he hears the fpreading newj, ") 
 And dreads the offer, which he muft refufe, J> 
 
 Or with diflembled vows the imperial maid abufe. J 
 jffenab's pow'r (that was the prieilefb' name) 
 Would in his breaft admit no rival flame. 
 
 The royal maid no lefs unhappy prov'd, 
 Who long illuftrious Orramel 1 ad lov'd ; 
 An Ethiopian prince, whofe fauldefs face 
 And fhape exceeded all the tawny race. 
 His features nobly turn'd, his piercing eyes 
 Sparkrd like ftars amidft die gloomy flues ; 
 At once they dazzled, and engag'd the fight 
 With awful luftre, and imperious light. 
 Black as a midnight cloud, his yielding hair 
 In eafy curls waves to the gentle air. 
 
 The princefs, pain'd with fecret difcontent, 
 Her father's purpoie labours to prevent ; 
 ]n vain ! the king obilru^ls her young defires, 
 But firlt the pleafure of the gods enquires. 
 
 J uft Potipbera, an unblemifli'd prieft, 
 His pity fincere, but ill addrefs'd, 
 
 While
 
 [6i] ?be Hiftory of Jofeph. 
 
 While fragrant incenfe round the temple fmok^ 
 OJirzs from the monarch lie invokes. 
 The fiends, in hopes to crofs the great defign, 
 And awful will of providence divine, 
 With penalties forbid the king's intent, 
 The Hebrew* future greatnefs to prevent j 
 Then nam'd the fair Afenath for his bride,, 
 And blindly with eternal fate comply'd : 
 Bffe&ing heav'n's predeftinated end^, 
 While Jofepfrs ruin envious hell intends ; 
 Nor doubts the young idolatrefs would prove 
 His fnare, and foon feduce him with her love. 
 
 The prieft, yet trembling, near the altar Hands, 
 And dreads the facrilege the god commands. 
 My daughter nam'd ! he cries, to I/is vowM 
 By myilick rites, which no reverfe allow'd f 
 It muft be fo The gods pronounce it fit, 
 The prieft his will, the king muft his fubmit. 
 
 The maid reluftant leaves the holy fhrine, 
 But yields obedience to the povv'rs divine. 
 The gift, as heav'n's, the joyful youth regards, 
 Which thus bright virtue crowns, and facred -tnuk 
 rewards. 
 
 BOOK
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 The Jeven plenteous Tears ; ivitb the tnfuing Tears cf 
 Scarcity. Jofeph'j Cjharafter as Regent over ils 
 Land of Egypt. Jacob diftrefid with the ^atni-ni 
 fends Us Sons thither fir Corn, Jofeph difcovers 
 his Brethren, but is unknown of them : Pretends ts 
 fufpeft them as publick Spies, and keeps them three 
 Days in Prifon; at lafl fends them back, nuitb a 
 Charge to bring their younger Brother ivitb them, 
 and detains Simeon as an HoJIage till .their R*- 
 turn. 
 
 THE jocund years with foiling plenty crown'd, 
 In lhin:ng circles now advanc'd their round : 
 Unbounded crops reward the reaper's toil, 
 And ruftick pleafures chear the banks of Nile. 
 The Hebrew, late advanc'd by royal grace, 
 With dignity and fplendour fills his place, 
 Still watchful for the publick good, with care 
 Reftrains e;:cefs, by penalties fevere, 
 While juftice, truth,, and template virtue, reign'd 
 Amidft the height of plenty thro' the land: 
 His prudent fway the grateful people blefs, 
 Jn all the calm ferenity of peace. 
 
 Bat
 
 [64] rbeHiftoryjif Jofcph. . 
 
 But foon the fmiling years their period run, 
 A gloomy xra npw its courfe begun : 
 Pale famine comes, with, her malignant train, 
 Dries up the fprings, and taints the fertile plain : , jWjjj,/ 
 The trees decay, each flow'r, and balmy plant - : . 
 Pine at their ropes, ,and vkal humour want: 
 No pearly moiiture on the meadow lies ; 
 To fan the air no gentle breezes rife. 
 The languid moon fhcds from her fibnt fphere 
 No cooling dews, the thirily earth to chear. 
 A fultry night enfues a fcorching day ; 
 While difmal figns the fiery clouds difplay. 
 
 Nor Egy}t mourns alone her blafted ground, 
 pale famine ftalks thro' all the regions round : 
 Mortab's plain, and Herman's flow'ry hill 
 Wither' d and bare, the hot contagion feel : 
 That fertile climate, by peculiar grace, jfn A 
 
 Defign'd the lot of Abrahanfs future race. i ^il 
 
 Where long with peace, and fata! plenty gay, ^ rJjjW 
 The pngan princes bore imperial fway, 
 Their crimes not full : While Jacob fojourn'd here 
 A ftranger, as his great forefathers were : 
 The common fate he (hares, with famine prefs'd, 
 And for his numerous family diftrefs'dj; 5; , o:> 
 He fends his fons, by heav'nly condud led, 
 To Egypfs plenteous granaries for bread : 
 Domeftick wants require their utmoft hafie, 
 And Zoans regal tow'rs they reach at laft. 
 
 With foft A$ria> now in all her pride 
 Of wealth .and grandeur, Pharaoh's palace vyM : 
 
 More
 
 We Hiftory of Jofeph. 
 
 More honoar'd ftill the rifing favorite grew, 
 
 No bounds his royal mailer's kindnefs knew : 
 
 His graceful perfon, charming to the fight, 
 
 Majeftick, yet more mild than morning light : 
 
 His virtues, every grateful tongue employ, 
 
 The people's bbaft, their wonder, and their joy. 5 9a ^* 
 
 All private views were to his foul unknown, 
 
 He made the kingdom's welfare ftill his own : 
 
 TV oppreflbr's wrongs are by his power redrefs'd, 
 
 He guards the orphan, fuccours the diltrefs'd ; 
 
 His fame to diilant countries flies abroad, 
 
 While Egypt names him as her guardian god. 
 
 Arduous ftill his officers attend, 
 
 Where neigh' bring ftates their num'rous envoys fend ; 
 
 Who for themfelves, and pining race, implore 
 
 The food of life from his abundant ftore. 
 
 Among the foremoft of the fuppliant crowd 
 The Helreiv fwains with low fubmiffion bow'd ; 
 With ftern regard each kindred face he views, 
 Their fight the late detefted fcene renews; 
 The'lr parting malice and inhuman rage 
 To juft revenge his fwelling thoughts engage. 
 Long filent, ifl a gloomy paufe he ftands; 
 At laft their country, bulinefs, name, demands. 
 
 My lord, thy fervants, (with a modefl grace, 
 Judah replies) are all of Hebrew race : 
 Twelve brethren late, a joyful father's boaft, 
 Till one, by fome unhappy chance was loft ; 
 The youngeft with his aged fire remains 
 The darling, which his drooping life fuftains :
 
 [66] , fix' Hifiory of Jofeph. . 
 
 To purchafe corn we come, our falling breath,' 
 An infant race, to fave from ling'ring death, 
 
 Thy tale (he faid) unfolds its own difguife j 
 By Pharaoh's facred life, You all are fpiea : 
 Then to the guards with Hern command he turns, 
 While yet refentment in his bofom burns ; 
 In clofe. confinement be thefe men retain'd, 
 Till we fome knowledge of their plot have gain'd. 
 
 With juft remorfe, and fecret horror ilruck, 
 The confcious Hebrews at each other look, 
 In foreign accents, to theguaids unknown, 
 Their length of unrepented fin they -own ; 
 Jofeph, not yet withdrawn, their language hears, 
 And haftes away, to hide the gufhing tears. 
 
 Oh ! we are guilty of our brother's blood, 
 Tho' heaven th* 'intended fratricide withftood : 
 With unrelenting hate, for fordid gold, 
 The gentle youth to Midianrtsi v/e fold 
 A flave, and fuch perhaps he Hill may live; 
 Almighty God, the monftrous crime forgive! 
 Unmov'd we faw the anguifti of his breail, 
 In mournful looks, and flowing tears exprefs'd ; 
 Unmov'd, and loft to nature, virtue, fenfe, 
 Unmov'd we heard his tender eloquence. 
 Such beauty, innocence, and blooming gra^fi' y ftr inA 
 Would have fubdu'd in wilds a favage race.
 
 We Hiftory of Jofeph, [67] 
 
 What caves, what dungeons, fhould fuch monfters 
 
 hide ? 
 We ftand condemned, and Heav'n is juftify'd. 
 
 When Reulen, wlio the barbarous fa ft difclainVd, 
 In thefe fad terms their former malice blam'd, 
 Would' heav'n your flowing tears might wafh au'ay 
 The bloody ftains of that detefted day ; 
 Its horror, with eternal grief, I trace ; 
 The foft imprefllon of my brother's face, 
 Dwells on my heart, the tragick fcene 1 view, 
 The mournful objeft is for ever new. 
 Methinks I fee the anguifh, the furprife, 
 The melting forrow in his lovely eyes, 
 While kneeling, pleading all the tender claims 
 Of kindred blood, he fmgly call'd your names, 
 And one by one[invok'd what power I had, 
 Was all employ'd to fave the guiltlefs lad : 
 His filial love and goodnefs, free from art, 
 Touch'd every tender motion in my heart, 
 When for his drooping father's hoary age 
 He try'd your foft companion to engage : 
 1 hear his cries, while round his fuppliant hands, 
 Without remorfe you ty'd the cruel bands ; 
 My foul is wounded with the farewel groan, 
 When to the yawning pit you forc'd him down. 
 
 What hellifli frenzy did your bofums fire 
 Againft fuch youth and virtue to confpire ? 
 What was his mighty crime ? axrhildifh dream, 
 A fleeping fancy's vifionary fcheme : 
 
 Hii
 
 L 68] Me Hijlory of Jofeph. 
 
 His blood's aveng'd While here we lie confin'd, 
 Our wretched offspring are with famine pin'd. 
 
 Their eldeft brother's juft reproach they own, 
 And humbly now addrefs th'eternal throne, 
 With penitence fincere they inly mourn, 
 While thrice the day and tedious night return. -.,;> i a Q 
 
 Mean time the thoughtful regent in his breaft 
 The firft vindidive motions had fuppreft, 
 When early for the Hebrew train he fends, 
 And kindnefs in a item difguife intends ; 
 Condudled to his prefence, proftrate all 
 (As once their fheaves before his iheaf ) they fall. 
 
 The pow'r that fits above the flars I fear 
 (He faid) nor fhall you find injuftice here : 
 To prove that you have no clandefline view, 
 Nor hoftileaim, but are to honour true, 
 One of your kindred number left behind, A djiV 
 
 Th'attending guards fhall as an hoftage bind j 
 Secure from wrong, the captive (hall remain, 
 If at fet limits you return again : 
 But be for ever exiles from the place, 
 Nor ever hope again to fee my face, 
 Unlefs you bring your youngeft brother here^d ^iC 
 No more on Egypt's, fatal coaft appear >oqo. dob) taftspG 
 Be this a proof your words have no difguifof !ut$iKj twlT 
 Or you by Pbaraofrs facred life are fpies 
 
 Alas, my lord, in tents thy fervants fleep, 
 (The fvvains reply ) our herds and bleating fheep 
 
 Engrofa
 
 The Hiftory of Jofeph. [69] 
 
 Engrofs our humble cares, no martial claims 
 Dillurb our minds, no wild ambitious aims ; 
 Strangerb to pompous courts, the flow'ry field, 
 And tuneful grove, to us their pleafures yield } 
 Unenvy'd there, fecure from noife and ftrife, 
 In harmlefs eafe we fpend a peaceful life ; 
 Our coftlieft banquets in tome balmy (hade, 
 With nature s fnnple luxury are made ; 
 No dreams of grandeur, no afpirmg thought, 
 Thy fervants to the Metnfhian limits brought ; 
 Diitrefs'd with famine, to this friendly more 
 We came, your kind affiftance to implore. 
 , 
 
 This faid, they find themfelves difmifs'd at laft 
 With full fupplies, and to their country hafte. 
 When fcarce arriv'd befoie their father's tent, 
 His bufy thoughts prefag'd fome fad event ; 
 The captive fon was mifb'd his fears t' expel, 
 Th' unpleafing truth in foothing words tliey tell. 
 With temper, every circumftance he hears, 
 Till the fond prop of his declining years, 
 His Benjamin was nam'd that cruel part, 
 In fpite of all their well-meant flatt'ring art, 
 With piercing anguifh wounds his inmoitfoal, 
 No pleas of reafon can its force control. 
 His hoary head with weighty forrow prefs'd, 
 Dejecled funk upon his penfive breait. 
 The careful travelers now their facks unty'd, 
 Surprised, their com reftor'd again they f py'd. 
 
 What can thefe myft'ries mean, gond Jacob faid, 
 What fatal ilorm is breaking o'er my head ? 
 
 wfc.
 
 [70] e fhe Hiftory of Jofeph, 
 
 Why is my life prolong'd ? of blifs bereft ? 
 
 Jofeph i$ not : My fingle comfort left, 
 
 To diftant climes an exile you would bear, 
 
 Againft me all thefe fad events appear ; 
 
 But know, the flame of life (hall quit my heart 
 
 Ere with the lovely blooming youth I part. 
 
 . Content we then muft facrifice our lives, 
 Our guiltlefs.offspring and our tender wives, 
 (Judah replies) condemn' d to perilh here, 
 And ne'er again on Egypt's coafts appear : 
 The man, the mighty ruler of the land, 
 With eyes to heav'n addrefs'd, and lifted hand, 
 The man protected with a folemn grace, 
 Not one of us mould ever fee his face, 
 Nor other proof our innocence mould clear, 
 Unlefs we brought our youngeft brother there. 
 
 And why would you that needlefs truth make 
 
 known, 
 
 Or that you had a younger brother own ? 
 The anxious parent faid. Alas could we, 
 Reuben replica, the confequence forefee ? 
 Or had the certainty been fully known, 
 Could we, with fpecious lies, the fact difown ? 
 Or ftraitly queftion'd, by a man fo great. 
 Conceal our publick or domeftick ftate } 
 Indeed he roughly talkt, but ftill there broke 
 Some fecret pity thro' his fierceft look ; 
 However dark the paft events appear, ytficrf 
 We've nothing from fuch clemency to fear; 
 
 Where'er
 
 ne Hijtory of Jofeph. [71] 
 
 "Where'er with eafy ftate he pafs'd along, 
 
 His virtues echo'd thro' the fhouting throng : 
 
 Then why, my honour'd fire, thefe vain delays ? 
 
 Paternal cares a thoufand fcruples raife ; 
 
 Your 5/flsttff-bound, a flave unranfom'd lies, 
 
 Our time's elapa'd, and we condemn'd for fpies : jiE 
 
 Commit your darling to my faithful hand, 
 
 Of me again the facred pledge demand. ,> 
 
 Two lovely boys, adorn-'d with every grace, 
 
 Secure I leave as fureties in his place j ; 
 
 If any negligence my honour (lain, 
 
 Without compaffion let them both he flain; 
 
 Half yielding now he {lands Their houfhoH ftraits> 
 Jttdab with artlefs eloquence repeats. 
 
 With falt'ring fpeech, and anguifh in his eyes, 
 Then go in peace, the vanquilh'd patriarch cries : 
 C'eleilial providence your fteps attend, 
 And angel guards from every ill defend ; 
 With doubl'd money for your corn advance, 
 Perhaps the reiteration was a chance ; 
 But take fome grateful prefent in your hand, 
 The balmy product of your native land : 
 And be'th* eternal majefty implor'd, 
 (The God my great progenitors ador'd) 
 To grant you favour in the ruler's fight, 
 And bring your injur'd innocence to light : 
 But know, if mifchief mould the lad attend, 
 My hoary hairs down to the grave you fend. 
 
 BOOK
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 ttt Hebrews return 'with their youngeft Brother intt 
 Egypt. Jofeph treats them with great Kindnefs and 
 a fphndid Entertainment ; but ft ill be conceals his Re~ 
 lotion to them. At lajl they are difmifid with plenti- 
 ful Supplies tf Corn ', but the Steward, as commanded 
 by his Lord fecretly, conveys a Silver Cup into Benja- 
 min'.; Sack. After they are gone out of the City, he 
 purfues and charges them with the pretended Thefti 
 and at lajl be finds it in Benjamin'/ Sack. They re- 
 turn with great Confternation, when Jofeph difcovers 
 himfelf to them. 
 
 THEIR father's bhffing on their knees they take, 
 And now to Memphis quick advances make, 
 Where fafe arriv'd, but fearful of their doom, 
 To Jofeph^ fteward haftily they come, 
 Difclofe in humble terms their late miftake, 
 And render doubl'd all the money back. 
 
 Your father's God (he faid) your coin reftor'd, 
 *Twas juftly paid, then leads them to his lord. 
 
 Their gifts, with proftrate homage, they prefent ; 
 His gracious fmiles their rifmg doubts prevent : 
 
 Forgetful
 
 ffa Hiftory of Jofeph. [173! 
 
 Forgetful of himfelf, with eager hafte, 
 He forward ftept, and Benjamin embrac'd : 
 His heart expands with fympathetick joy, 
 While in his arms he folds the wond'ring boy ; 
 Fc:nd nature ftruggles with the vain difguife, 
 A brother fparkles in his radiant eyes : 
 Scarce all his grandeur from the gentle youth 
 (With mutual rapture touch'd) conceals the truth ; 
 And half difclos'd the kindred foul appears, 
 Till Jofepb flies to hide the fwelling tears. 
 That melting love and foft furprife excite, 
 But recolledled, foon returns in fight. 
 
 Conduces them now into a fpacious hall, 
 Where well-worn -Haves, obfequious to the calf, 
 To luxury inur'd, with artful care, 
 Afplendid banquet inftantly prepare; 
 Embroider'd carpets cover all the groun j, 
 While fragrant ointments fpread their odours round, 
 Large filver layers, with officious care, 
 The gay attendants round the circle bear. 
 
 And now, with coflly fare and fparkling wine 
 Of various forts, the loaded tables fliine, 
 Beneath a glittering canopy of ftate 
 In Tyrian robes the graceful regent fat ; 
 With all the bounty of a royal feaft 1 
 He nobly entertnins each Hebrew guefl : 
 Their hoftage freed the mutual joy compleats, 
 In order plac'd, they_ take their deflin'd feats : 
 With fprightly wines, and focial converfe gay, 
 In guiltlefs mirth they fpend the fleeting day. 
 
 VOL. II. d In
 
 j [ 1 74] ?<? Hifiory cf Jofeph.. 
 
 In calm repofe fupinely pafs the night, 
 Till rifing with the morning's rofy light, 
 They hafte away, with full provifions ftor'd, 
 In every fack (as order' d by his lord) 
 Their coin the fteward fecretly convey'd j 
 A filver cup in Benjamins was laid. 
 
 Secure thefuburbs utmoft bounds werepaft, 
 When with a feignM concern and anxious hafte, 
 lie. overtakes the hindmoft of the train, 
 And thus accofts them in an angry ftrain. 
 
 How could you thus, ungrateful and unjuft, 
 Againft the rules of hofpitab'e truft, 
 Combine, the confederated cup to Heal, 
 By which my lord does fecret things reveal. 
 
 With what ftrange meaning is thy language fraught, 
 Surpris'd, they cry, we're guiltlefs, even in thought, 
 And by th' immortal God, we dare protelt, 
 Such black defigns are ftra,ngers to our breaft. 
 Our coin unask'd exaftly we reftor'd, 
 How fhouldwe then abufe thy injur'd lord, 
 And bafely, gold or filver from him fteal, 
 While recent favours yet our thanks compel ? 
 If fuch enormous guilt our bofoms flain, 
 Vaffals for life thy fervants mail remain ; 
 The wretch, convided of a crime fo high, 
 Unpity'd here before thy face mall die. 
 
 Content, he faid, and fearch'd their burdens round; 
 
 At laft, the cup in Benjamin's was found : 
 
 With
 
 The Hifiory of Jofeph; [175] 
 
 With wild defpair, their folding veils they rent, 
 And backward to the royal office went. 
 
 The regent here, but oh ! how chang'd they find, . 
 No more the mild, beneficent and kind, 
 But fiercely asking, in an alter'd tone, 
 What wrong is this your guilty hands have done ? 
 You well might know, where drefs and learning fhine> . 
 A man, like me, muft certainly divine, 
 
 Proftrate they fall, while JuJab for the reft, 
 With mingled fighs their mutual grief exprefs'd. 
 
 What can I fay ? how mall thy fervant fpeak ? 
 
 In what pathetick words my {ilence break ? 
 
 What energy of language mall I find, 
 
 To paint the wi[d diftraftion of my mind ? 
 
 Juftice divine, with keen revenge begins 
 
 To reckon up our lengthen'd fcore of fins ; 
 
 Our fecret crimes, this rigorous ftroke, demand \ ~. 
 
 And felf-condemn'd, we here thy vaflals ftand. 
 
 No, cries the gracious Regent, only he 
 With whom the cup was found, my fla've mail bei : 
 Return in peace, your needlefs fears refign, 
 This youth, a publick criminal, is mine. 
 
 When Judah thus, (ftill gently drawing near) 
 Be pleas'd, my lord, to lend a gracious ear, 
 
 d 2 While
 
 tteHifiory of Jofepft, 
 
 While.1 the tender circumihnce 
 And for my father's hoary age J 
 
 Two lovely boy?, the pleafure of his life, 
 And only offspring of a beauteous wife, 
 The elder Branch, by an untimely death, 
 Snatch'd from his arms, long fmce refign'd Kis 
 
 breath j . 
 
 The youngeft, who does now his care engage, 
 The fingle prop of his declining age, 
 The conftant theme of every pleafing thought, 
 Your ftrift command, my lord, has hither brought t 
 Our fire (thy fervant) long refus'd to grant 
 
 rr~a rr r 1 1 r i i 
 
 The prcffing fuit, till fore d by meagre want, 
 And juil concern, to clear our ir.jur'd truth, 
 He to my conduct gave the gentle youth. 
 
 But oh ! what killing anguifh piercM his hearty 3 ^ 
 When thus compell'd with Benjamin to part : 
 With- all the eloquence that filial love 
 Could e'er infpire to calm his fears I ftrove; - tt;) ^'p' 
 But all in vain, on difmal thoughts intent, 
 Jf mifchief fiiould his blooming life prevent, 
 My hoary hairs, he faid, with grief oppref&M, : sH 
 Mufl to the gloomy grave defcend for reft. 
 
 vo arriBrD ^Ixog A 
 
 And I, unhappy, whither mall I go --nfoO 
 
 To (hun that dark diftrading fcene of wot? oafb-fl: 
 My father's wretchednefs I cannot fee, i iofl a.w Jl 
 Depriv'd of every future joy by me ; :'l tl i zbnboog 6UL 
 For 1, with all the Arguments I had, -/ 
 
 Became myfelf a furety for the lad, 
 
 An*
 
 tte -Hiftory of Jofeph. [177] 
 
 , v. j ^jj j _t j yt^ 
 
 And muft again the precious pledge reftore, 
 Or fee my aged parent's face no more. 
 
 My lord, you feenr to have a tender heart/, 
 (Tho' fometimes forc'd to act a rig'rous part) 
 This firft, unfortunate offence, forgive, 
 Or let thy fervant here a vaflal live . 
 A bondflave, in my youngeft brother's Head, 
 Condemn'd no more my native foil to tread. 
 
 No longer Jofeph could His tears control, 
 Or hide the foft emotions of his foul ; 
 Relenting figns the watchful Hebrews fa\v, 
 Jn hafte he bids th'attendants all withdraw^. 
 
 I am your brother Jofeph, then he cries, 
 With tears and melting goodnefs in his eyes, 
 That brother you to Midian merchants fold 
 On Dot ban's plain Nor need the reft be told. 
 
 The cruel fal, alas, too well they knew, 
 And, with difordcr'd looks, each other view. 
 
 He then demands How fares my honour'd fire ? 
 Confus'd and mute they farther off retire ; 
 A guilty fhame on every face was fpread. 
 Come near, my brethren, then he mildly faid, 
 Reflect not on yourfelves, with thoughts fevere,, 
 It was not you, but God, that fent me here ; 
 His goodnefs rul'd the circumftance and place, 
 Tofavc the ftock of Abraham's facred race; 
 
 Fire
 
 [i 78] ?be Hiftory of Jefepfc 
 
 Five years of cruel famine yet remain, 
 While, deftituteofhope, the careful fvvain 
 Shall neither fow nor reap - The burning foil, 
 Untill'd fhall lie, or mock his fruitlefs toil ; 
 But heav'n has fent me here, to fave your lives, 
 Your infant offspring, and your tender wives. 
 
 tt king, in every virtue great, 
 Ordains me fecond ruler in the fiate ; 
 The ftrength, the pow'r, the wealth of all the land, 
 Without reftraint, are trufted to my hand. 
 
 Return, and in my father's ear* relate 
 The plenty, pomp, and grandeur of my {late i 
 Tell him, I long his hoary age to greet, 
 And throw myfelf in raptures at his feet : 
 Let him come down to Go/Lett's healthful air, 
 His whole domeftick charge fhall be my care. 
 
 Difmifs your fears This painful filence break f 
 You fee a friend ! you hear a brother fpeak I 
 Behold the tender motions of my heart, 
 No more difguis'd with grandeur, or with art ! 
 Regard me well, the kindred features trace, 
 You'll find the prints of nature in my face ! 
 
 Then clafping round his youngeft brother's neck, 
 No longer ftrives the gufhing tears to check ; 
 The friendly ardor throws off all difguife, 
 While nature fits triumphant in his eyes ; 
 Nor lefs delight tranfports the gentle youth, 
 Replete with goodnefs, innocence and troth ; 
 
 In
 
 tte Htftory of Jofeph. 
 
 In mutual fympathy their fouls were ty'd, 
 And more by virtue than by birth ally'd. 
 
 Saluting then the reft, with mild addrefs, 
 He clears their doubts and foftens their diftrefs ; 
 Converfing freely, now they quit their fears, 
 While Pharaoh, pleas'd, the new adventure hears j 
 And in his clemency, and royal grace, 
 Commands the viceroy fome felecled place 
 Should be affign'd on Gtfietis rich champain 
 His father's num'rous charge to entertain. 
 
 The regent now, impatient of delay, 
 With coftly prefents fends the men away ; 
 But with a fparkling Babylonian veft 
 His youngeft friend was grac'd above the reft. 
 
 Make hafte, he faid, to bring my father down. 
 Tell him I live, and be my greatnefs known ; ' 
 Take waggons, for convenience on the way, 
 Your wives and helplefs children to convey ; 
 Nor care to gather up your needlefs ftores, 
 The wealth ofZoarfs plenteous land is yours. 
 
 At He&ron foon their fpeedy journey ends, 
 The good old man their coming now attends ; 
 Where fcarce arriv'd, at once they all relate 
 The welcome news of Jofeph^s profp'rous ftate. 
 
 Why would you mock my woe with airy fchemes, 
 (He fainting faid) of gay fantaflick dreams ? 
 
 But
 
 [iSo] I'be Hiftory of Jofeph, 
 
 But foon the loaded carriages appear, 
 Recal his life, his drooping fpirits chear. 
 
 My Jofepb lives! (tranfporting truth) he cries, 
 I'll fee his face and clofe my aged eyes: 
 Content, refign thefe poor remains of breath. 
 And gently reft in the calm fhades of de*tk.
 
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