Slaves, than a Slave among Freemen. The dignity of my present station damps the pertness of inferior puppies and fquires, which without plenty and ease on your fide the channel, would break my heart in a month.

Madam,

See what it is to live where I do. I am utterly ignorant of that fame Strado del Poe; and yet if that Author be against lending or giving money, I cannot but think him a good Courtier; which I am fure your Grace is not, no not fo much as to be a Maid of honour. For I

am certainly informed, that you are neither a free-thinker, nor can fell bargains; that you can neither spell, nor talk, nor write, nor think like a Courtier; that you pretend to be respected for qualities which have been out of fashion ever fince you were almoft in your cradle; that your contempt for a fine petticoat is an infallible mark of difaffection; which is further confirmed by your ill tafte for Wit, in preferring two old-fashioned poets before Duck or Cibber. Befides you spell in fuch a manner as no court lady can read, and write in fuch an old-fashioned ftyle, as none of them can understand.-You need not be in pain about Mr. Gay's stock of health, I promife you he will spend it all upon laziness, and run deep in debt by a winter's repofe in town; therefore I entreat your Grace will order him to move his chops lefs and his

legs

legs more for the fix cold months, else he will spend all his money in phyfick and coach-hire. I am in much perplexity about your Grace's declaration of the manner in which you difpofe what you call your love and refpect, which you say are not paid to Merit but to your own Humour. Now Madam, my misfortune is, that I have nothing to plead but abundance of Merit, and there goeth an ugly obfervation, that the humour of ladies is apt to change. Now Madam, if I should go to Aimsbury with a great load of merit, and your Grace happen to be out of humour, and will not purchase my merchandize at the price of your refpect, the goods may be damaged, and no body else will take them off my hands. Befides you have

declared Mr. Gay to hold the first part, and. I but the fecond, which is hard treatment, fince I fhall be the newest acquaintance by fome years, and I will appeal to all the rest of your fex, whether fuch an innovation ought to be allowed? I should be ready to fay in the common forms, that I was much obliged to the Lady who wished the could give me the beft living, &c. if I did not vehemently fufpect it was the very fame Lady who fpoke many things to me in the fame style, and also with regard to the gentleman at your elbow when you writ, whose Dupe he was, as well as of her waiting-woman: but they were both arrant knaves, as I told him and a third friend, although they will

not believe it to this day. I defire to prefent my most humble respects to my Lord Duke, and with the heartieft prayer for the profperity. of the whole family, remain your Grace's,

&c.

I

LETTER LX.

*Mr. POPE to Dr. SWIFT.

Dec. 5, 1732. T is not a time to complain that you have. not answered me two letters (in the last of which I was impatient under fome fears.) It is not now indeed a time to think of one's felf, when one of the nearest and longest tyes I have ever had, is broken all on a fudden, by the unexpected death of poor Mr. Gay. An inflammatory fever hurried him out of this life in three days. He died last night at nine a clock, not deprived of his fenfes entirely at last, and poffeffing them perfectly till within five hours.

He

* On my dear Friend Mr. Gay's Death: Received December 15, but not read until the 20th, by an Impulse foreboding fome Misfortune, [This Note is indorfed on the original Letter in Dr. Swift's Hand.]

He asked of you a few hours before, when in acute torment by the inflammation in his bowels and breast. His effects are in the Duke of Queensbury's cuftody. His fifters, we suppose, will be his heirs, who are two widows; as yet it is not known whether or no he left a will Good God! how often are we to die before we go quite off this stage? in every friend we lose a part of ourselves and the best part. God keep those we have left! few are worth praying for, and one's felf the least of all. I fhall never fee you now I believe; one of your principal Calls to England is at an end! indeed he was the most amiable by far, his qualities were the gentleft, but I love you as well and as firmly. Would to God the man we have loft had not been fo amiable, nor fo good! but that's a wish for our own fakes, not for his. Sure if Innocence and Integrity can deferve Happiness, it must be his. Adieu. I can add nothing to what you will feel, and diminish nothing from it. Yet write to me, and foon. Believe no man now living loves you better, I believe no man ever did, than A. Pope.

Dr. Arbuthnot, whofe humanity you know, heartily commends himself to you. All poffible diligence and affection have been fhown, and continued attendance on this melancholy occafion. Once more adieu, and write to one who is truly difconfolate.

P 3

P.S.

P. S. By Dr. ARBUTHNOT.

Dear Sir,

I am forry that the renewal of our correfpondence fhould be upon fuch a melancholy occafion; poor Mr. Gay dy'd of an inflammation, and I believe at last a mortification of the bowels; it was the moft precipitate cafe I ever knew, having cut him off in three days: he was attended by two physicians befides my felf. I believed the diftemper mortal from the beginning. I have not had the pleasure of a line from you these two years. I wrote one about your health and happiness, being with great affection and refpe&t, Sir, Yours, &c.

LETTER