do fometimes reproach you for not honouring me by letting the world know we are friends.

I fee very well how matters go with the Duchefs in regard to me. I heard her fay, Mr. Gay, fill your letter to the Dean, that there may be no room for me, the frolic is gone far enough, I have writ thrice, I will do no more ; if the man has a mind to come, let him come; what a clutter is here? pofitively I will not write a fyllable more. She is an ungrateful Duchefs confidering how many adorers I have procured her here, over and above the thoufands fhe had before. I cannot allow you rich enough till you are worth 7000l. which will bring you 300 per Annum, and this will maintain you, with the perquifite of fpunging while you are young, and when you are old will afford you a pint of port at night, two fervants, and an old maid, a little garden, and pen and ink-provided you live in the country -Have you no scheme either in verse or profe? The Duchess should keep you at hard meat, and by that means force you to write; and fo I have done with you.

Madam,

Since I began to grow old, I have found all ladies become inconftant without any reproach from their confcience. If I wait on you, I

declare

declare that one of your women (which ever it is that has defigns upon a Chaplain) must be my nurse, if I happen to be fick or peevish at your house, and in that cafe you muft fufpend your domineering Claim till I recover. Your omitting the usual appendix to Mr. Gay's letters hath done me infinite mischief here; for while you continued them, you would wonder how civil the Ladies here were to me, and how much they have altered fince. I dare not confefs that I have defcended fo low as to write to your Grace, after the abominable neglect you have been guilty of; for if they but fufpected it, I fhould lose them all. One of them, who had an inklin of the matter (your Grace will hardly believe it) refufed to beg my pardon upon her knees, for once neglecting to make my ricemilk. Pray, confider this, duty, or dread the confequence. fhall have your will fix minutes Aimfbury, and feven in London, while I am in health but if I happen to be sick, I must

and do your I promise you

every

hour at

govern to a second. Yet properly speaking,

there is no man alive with fo much truth and refpect your Grace's moft obedient and devoted fervant.

LET

YOU

LETTER LIV.

Aug. 28, 1731.

OU and the Duchefs ufe me very ill, for, I profess, I cannot distinguish the ftile or the hand-writing of either. I think her Grace writes more like you than herself, and that you write more like her Grace than yourself. I would swear the beginning of your letter writ by the Duchefs, though it is to pafs for yours; because there is a curfed lie in it, that she is neither young nor healthy, and befides it perfectly refembles the part fhe owns. I will likewise swear, that what I must suppose is written by the Duchefs, is your hand; and thus I am puzzled and perplexed between you, but I will go on in the innocency of my own heart. I am got eight miles from our famous metropolis, to a country Parfon's, to whom I lately gave a City-living, fuch as an English Chaplain would leap at. I retired hither for the public good, having two great works in hand: One to reduce the whole politeness, wit, humour, and style of England into a short system, for the use of all perfons of quality, and particularly the maids of honour a. The

Wagstaff's Dialogues of Polite Conversation, published in his life time.

other

other is of almost equal importance; I may call it the Whole duty of fervants, in about twenty several stations, from the fteward and waiting-woman down to the fcullion and pantryboy b I believe no mortal had ever such fair invitations, as to be happy in the best company of England. I wish I had liberty to print your letter with my own comments upon it. There was a fellow in Ireland, who from a shoe-boy grew to be feveral times one of the chief governors, wholly illiterate, and with hardly common fense: A Lord Lieutenant told the first King George, that he was the greatest subject he had in both kingdoms; and truly this character was gotten and preferved by his never appearing in England, which was the only wife thing he ever did, except purchafing fixteen thousand pounds a year-Why, you need not ftare it is easily apply'd: I must be absent, in order to preserve my credit with her GraceLo here comes in the Duchefs again (I know her by her dd's; but am a fool for discovering my Art) to defend herself against my conjecture of what she said Madam, I will imitate your Grace and write to you upon the fame line. I own it is a base unromantic spirit in me, to suspend the honour of waiting at your

An imperfect thing of fervants in general, has been this kind, called Directions to publifhed fince his death.

Grace's

Grace's feet, till I can finish a paltry law-fuit. It concerns indeed almoft all my whole fortune; it is equal to half Mr. Pope's, and two thirds of Mr. Gay's, and about fix weeks rent of your Grace's. This curfed accident hath drill'd away the whole fummer. But, Madam, understand one thing, that I take all your ironical civilities in a literal fenfe, and whenever I have the honour to attend you, fhall expect them to be literally performed: though perhaps I shall find it hard to prove your hand-writing in a Court of justice; but that will not be much for your credit. How miferably hath your Grace been mistaken in thinking to avoid Envy by runing into exile, where it haunts you more than ever it did even at Court? Non te civitas, non Regia domus in exilium miferunt, fed tu utrafque. So fays Cicero (as your Grace knows) or fo he might have faid.

I am told that the Craftíman in one of his papers is offended with the publishers of (I fuppose) the last edition of the Dunciad; and I was asked whether you and Mr. Pope were as good friends to the new disgraced person as formerly? This I knew nothing of, but fuppose it was the confequence of fome mistake. As to writing, I look on you just in the prime of life for it, the very feafon when judgment and invention draw together. But schemes are

perfectly