poems said to be yours. Pray tell her that you have not answered me on the same questions, and that I shall take it as a thing never to be forgiven from you, if you tell another what you have concealed from me.

LETTER CXL.

LORD BOLINGBROKE TO DR. SWIFT.

REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,

April 12, 1734.

I HAVE received yours of the 16th of February very lately; but have not yet seen the person who brought it, nor am likely to see him, unless he finds me out in my retreat. Our friend Pope is in town, and to him I send this letter; for he tells me he can forward it to you by the hands of one of our common friends. If I can do Mr. Faulkner any service, I shall certainly do it, because I shall catch at any opportunity of pleasing you; but my help, in a project of subscription, will, I fear, avail him little. I live much out of the world, and I do not blush to own, that I am out of fashion in it. My wife, who is extremely obliged to you, for your kind remembrance of her, and who desires me to say all the fond things from her to you, which I know she thinks, enjoys a pre

but it can scarcely be supposed that her inquiries were directed towards pieces so grossly indelicate as those to which Mr. Bowles alludes in the foregoing note.

carious health, easily shaken, and sometimes interrupted by fits of severe pain: but, upon the whole, much better than it has been these five years. I walk down hill easily and leisurely enough, except when a strong disposition to the jaundice (that I have long carried about me), gives me a shove. I guard against it as well as I can; the censors say, not as well as I might. Too sedentary a life hurts me, and yet I do not care to lead any other; for sauntering about my grounds is not exercise. I say, I will be very active this summer, and I will try to keep my word. Riding is your panacea; and Bathurst is younger than his sons by observing the same regimen. If I can keep where I am a few years longer, I shall be satisfied; for I have something, and not much, to do before I die. I know by experience one cannot serve the present age. About posterity one may flatter one's self, and I have a mind to write to the next age. You have seen, I doubt not, the ethic epistles, and though they go a little into metaphysics, I persuade myself you both understand and approve them; the first book being finished, the others will soon follow; for many of them are writ, or crayoned out.* What are you doing?-Good, I am sure. Put of what kind? Pray, Mr. Dean, be a little more cautious in your recommendations.

I

This seems to refer to the Moral Epistles of Pope, which were intended to form a part of the great system of ethics, which he did not live to complete.

took care, a year ago, to remove some obstacles that might have hindered the success of one of your recommendations, and I have heartily repented of it since. The fellow wants morals, and, as I hear, decency, sometimes. You have had accounts, I presume, which will not leave you at a loss to guess whom I mean.* Is there no hope left of seeing you once more in this island? I often wish myself out of it; and I shall wish so much more, if it is impossible de voisiner (I know no English word to say the same thing) with you. Adieu, dear Sir, no man living preserves a higher esteem, or a more warm and sincere friendship for you than I do.

LETTER CXLI.

DR. ARBUTHNOT TO MR. POPE.

Hampstead, July 17, 1734.

I LITTLE doubt of your kind concern for me, nor of that of the lady you mention. I have nothing to repay my friends with at present but prayers and good wishes. I have the satisfaction to find that I am as officiously served by my friends, as he that has thousands to leave in legacies; besides the assurance of their sincerity. God Al

*There is no great pleasure in guessing who was here meant ; but it would seem to be Mr. Pilkington, whose conduct in London seems to have disobliged those to whom the Dean recommended him, and especially Barber. Sir W. Scott.

mighty has made my bodily distress as easy as a thing of that nature can be. I have found some relief, at least sometimes, from the air of this place. My nights are bad, but many poor creatures have

worse.

As for you, my good friend, I think, since our first acquaintance, there have not been any of those little suspicions or jealousies that often affect the sincerest friendships; I am sure, not on my side. I must be so sincere as to own, that though I could not help valuing you for those talents which the world prizes, yet they were not the foundation of my friendships; they were quite of another sort; nor shall I at present offend you by enumerating them: and I make it my last request, that you will continue that noble disdain and abhorrence of vice, which you seem naturally endued with; but still with a due regard to your own safety; and study more to reform than chastise,* though the one cannot be effected without the other.

Lord Bathurst I have always honoured, for every good quality that a person of his rank ought to have: pray, give my respects and kindest wishes to the family. My venison stomach is gone, but I have those about me, and often with me,

A very sensible and important piece of advice; which our poet, however, did not follow, and gives his reasons for not observing his excellent friend's salutary admonition, in the succeeding letter. But the reasons are not so solid as the admonition.

Warton.

who will be very glad of his present. If it is left at my house, it will be transmitted safe to me.

A recovery in my case, and at my age, is impossible; the kindest wish of my friends is Euthanasia. Living or dying, I shall always be

Your, &c.

LETTER CXLII.

MR. POPE TO DR. ARBUTHNOT.

July 26, 1734.

I THANK you for your letter, which has all those genuine marks of a good mind by which I have ever distinguished yours, and for which I have so long loved you. Our friendship has been constant; because it was grounded on good principles, and therefore not only uninterrupted by any distrust, but by any vanity, much less any in

terest.

What

you recommend to me with the solemnity of a last request, shall have its due weight with me. That disdain and indignation against vice, is (I thank God) the only disdain and indignation I have it is sincere, and it will be a lasting one. But sure it is as impossible to have a just abhorrence of vice, without hating the vicious, as to bear a true love for virtue, without loving the good. To reform and not to chastise, I am afraid is impossible; and that the best precepts, as well as the