the next month: When, I expect, you will contrive to be as beneficial to me as you can, by paffing with me as much time as you can: every day of which it will be my fault if I do not make of fome use to me, as well as pleasure. This is all I have to tell you, and, be affured, my fincerest esteem and affection are yours.

TH

LETTER CVII.

I

Twitenham, Aug. 12, 1741. HE general indifpofition I have to writing, unless upon a belief of the neceffity or use of it, muft plead my excuse in not doing it to you. know it is not (I feel it is not) needful to repeat affurances of the true and conftant friendship and efleem I bear you. Honeft and ingenuous minds are fure of each other's; the tye is mutual and folid. The use of writing letters refolves wholly into the gratification given and received in the knowledge of each other's welfare: unless I ever fhould be fo fortunate (and a rare fortune it would be) to be able to procure, and acquaint you of, fome real benefit done you by my means. But fortune feldom fuffers one difinterested man to ferve another. 'Tis too much an infult upon her to let two of those who most despise her favours, be happy in them at the fame time, and in the fame inftance. I wish for nothing fo much at her hands, as that fhe would permit fome great Person or other to remove you nearer the banks

of the Thames; tho' very lately a nobleman, whom you efteem much more than you know, had deftined

.&c.

I thank you heartily for your hints, and am afraid if I had more of them, not on this only, but on other fubjects, I should break my refolution, and become an author a-new: nay a new author, and a better than I yet have been; or God forbid I should go on jingling only the fame bells!

I have received fome chagrin at the delay of your Degree at Oxon. As for mine, I will die before I receive one, in an art I am ignorant of, at a place where there remains any fcruple of bestowing one on you, in a science of which you are so great a master. In fhort, I will be doctor'd with you, or not at all. I am fure, wherever honour is not conferred on the deferving, there can be none given to the undeferying; no more from the hands of Priests than of PrinAdieu. God give you all true bieffings.

<ces.

LETTER CVIII.

Sept. 20, 1741.

T is not my friendfhip, but the difcernment of that nobleman + I mentioned, which you are to thank for his intention to ferve you. And his judgment is fo uncontroverted, that it would really be a pleasure to you to owe him any thing; inLord Chesterfield.

ftead of a fhame, which is often the cafe in the favours of men of that rank. I am sorry I can only with you well, and not do myself honour in doing you any good. But I comfort myself when I reflect, few men could make you happier, none more deferving than you have made yourself.

I don't know how I have been betray'd into a paragraph of this kind. I afk your pardon, tho' it be truth, for faying fo much.

go

If I can prevail on myself to complete * the Dunciad, it will be published at the fame time with a general edition of all my Verses (for Poems I will not call them) and, I hope, your Friendship to me will be then as well known, as my being an Author; and down together to Pofterity. I mean to as much of Pofterity as poor moderns can reach to; where the Commentator (as ufual) will lend a crutch to the weak Poet to help him to limp a little further, than he could on his own feet. We flall take our degree together in Fame, whatever we do at the University : And I tell you once more, I will not have it there without you.

*He had then communicated his intention to the Editor, of adding a fourth book to it, in pursuance of the Editor's advice,

I

LETTER CIX.

Bath, Nov. 12, 1741.

Am always naturally sparing of my letters to my Friends; for a reason I think a great one; that it is needlefs after experience, to repeat afsurances of Friendship; and no less irksome to be fearching for words, to exprefs it over and over. But I have more calls than one for this letter. First, to express a fatisfaction at your resolution not to keep up the ball of dispute with Dr. M. tho' I am fatisfied, you could have done it; and to tell you that Mr. L. is pleased at it too, who writes me word upon this occafion, that he muft infinitely esteem a Divine, and an Author who loves Peace better than Victory. Secondly I am to recommend to you as an author, a bookfeller in the room of the honeft one you have loft, Mr. G. and I know none who is fo worthy, and has fo good a title in that character to fucceed him as Mr. Knapton. But my third motive of now troubling you is my own proper intereft and pleasure. I am here in more leisure than I can poffibly enjoy even in my own house, vacare literis. It is at this place, that your exhortations may be most effectual, to make me refume the ftudies I have almost laid afide, by perpetual avocations and diffipations. If it were practicable for you to pafs a month or fix weeks from home, it is here I could wish to be with you: And if you would attend to the continuation of your own noble work, or unbend to the idle amusement of

almost any

If the wa

your com

commenting upon a poet, who has no other merit, than that of aiming by his moral ftrokes to merit fome regard from fuch men as advance Truth and Virtue in a more effectual way; in either cafe, this place and this house would be an inviolable asylum to you, from all you would defire to avoid, in fo public a scene as Bath. The worthy man, who is the master of it, invites you in the strongest terms; and is one who would treat you with love and veneration, rather than what the world calls civility and regard. He is fincerer and plainer than man now in this world, antiquis moribus. ters of the Bath may be ferviceable to plaints (as I believe from what you have told me of them) no opportunity can ever be better. It is juft the best season. We are told the Bishop of Salisbury is expected here daily, who I know is your friend: at least, tho' a bishop, is too much a man of learning to be your enemy. You fee I omit nothing to add to the weight in the balance, in which, however, I will not think myfelf light, fince I have known your partiality. You will want no fervant here. Your room will be next to mine, and one man will ferve us. Here is a Library and a Gallery ninety feet long to walk in, and a coach whenever you would take the air with me. Mr. ALLEN tells me, you might on horfeback be here in three days; it is lefs than 100 miles from Newarke, the road through Leicester, Stow in the Wolde in Gloucefter, and Cirencester by Lord Bathurst's. I could engage to carry you to