Court, I will tell you where the Royal Family design to pass their summer: two months at Richmond Lodge, the same time at Hampton-Court, and six weeks at Windsor. Mrs. Howard is well, and happier than ever you saw her; for her whole affair with her husband is ended to her satisfaction.*

Dr. Arbuthnot I am very angry with: he neglects me for those he thinks finer ladies. Mr. Gay's fame continues, but his riches are in a fair way of diminishing: he is gone to the Bath. I wish you were ordered there; for I believe that would carry Mr. Pope, who is always inclined to do more for his friends than himself. He is much out of order, and is told nothing is so likely to do him good.

My illness has prevented my writing to you sooner. If I was a favourite at Court, I would soon convince you that I am, very sincerely,

Your faithful friend, and very humble servant,

M. B.

* This shameful intrigue is minutely detailed by Lord Orford, in his " Reminiscences ;" and the event alluded to in this Letter is, that "during the summer a negociation was commenced with the obstreperous husband, and he sold his own noisy honour, and the possession of his wife, for a pension of twelve hundred a year." C. Bowles.

LETTER XLVI.

TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT.

(1727.) THE weather is too fine for any one that loves the country to leave it at this season; when every smile of the sun, like the smile of a coy lady, is as dear as it is uncommon: and I am so much in the taste of rural pleasures, I had rather see the sun than any thing he can shew me, except yourself. I despise every fine thing in town, not excepting your new gown, till I see you dressed in it (which by the way I do not like the better for the red; the leaves, I think, are very pretty). I am growing fit, I hope, for a better world, of which the light of the sun is but a shadow: for I doubt not but God's works here are what come nearest to his works there; and that a true relish of the beauties of nature is the most easy preparation and gentlest transition to an enjoyment of those of heaven: as, on the contrary, a true town-life of hurry, confusion, noise, slander, and dissension, is a sort of apprenticeship to hell and its furies. I am endeavouring to put my mind into as quiet a situation as I can, to be ready to receive that stroke which, I believe, is coming upon me, and have fully resigned myself to yield to it. The separation of my soul and body is what I could think of with less pain; for I am very sure he that made it will take care of it, and in whatever state he pleases it shall

be, that state must be right: but I cannot think without tears of being separated from my friends, when their condition is so doubtful, that they may want even such assistance as mine. Sure, it is more merciful to take from us after death all memory of what we loved or pursued here: for else what a torment would it be to a spirit, still to love those creatures it is quite divided from? Unless we suppose, that in a more exalted life, all that we esteemed in this imperfect state will affect us no more, than what we loved in our infancy concerns

us now.

This is an odd way of writing to a lady, and, I am sensible, would throw me under a great deal of ridicule, were you to show this letter among your acquaintance. But perhaps you may not yourself be quite a stranger to this way of thinking. I heartily wish your life may be so long and so happy, as never to let you think quite so far as I am now led to do: but to think a little towards it, is what will make you the happier and the easier at all times.

There are no pleasures or amusements that I do not wish you, and therefore it is no small grief to me that I shall for the future be less able to partake with you in them. But let fortune do her worst, whatever she makes us lose, as long as she never makes us lose our honesty and our independence; I despise from my heart whoever parts with the first, and pity from my soul whoever quits the latter.

I am grieved at Mr. Gay's condition in this last respect of dependence. He has merit, good-nature, and integrity, three qualities that I fear are too often lost upon great men; or at least are not all three a match for one which is opposed to them, flattery. I wish it may not soon or late displace him from the favour he now possesses, and seems to like. I am sure his late action deserves eternal favour and esteem:* Lord Bathurst was charmed with it, who came hither to see me before his journey. He asked and spoke very particularly of To-morrow Mr. Fortescue comes to me from London about B's suit in forma pauperis. That poor man looks starved: he tells me you have been charitable to him. Indeed it is wanted; the poor creature can scarce stir or speak; and 1 apprehend he will die, just as he gets something to live upon. Adieu.

you.

LETTER XLVII.

TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT.

DEAR MADAM,

Bath, Sept. 4.

I THANK you for many things, and particularly for your letters. That which gave me an account of my mother's tolerable health, told me no more than three others told me; yet it satisfied me much more, as being from you. To think

* His refusing the appointment of Usher to the Princess Louisa in 1727.

that a person whom we wish so much our friend as to take a concern in all that concerns us, should be cordially affected with things, is a greater and more tender pleasure than any of the same cares or testimonies from others. I left Lord Cobham's, as I told you, not without a wish that yourself and Mrs. Howard had seen it with me. I passed by the door of my Lord Deloraine's, which is a neat stone house, with a view to the Downs, but low situated. I cannot help telling you one circumstance, that, as I travelled all alone, made me contemplative. I was drawn by a horse now employed by Lord C. in rolling the gardens, which was the same in former days on which the Earl of Derwentwater rid at Preston. It made me reflect, that man himself is as blind and unknowing of his fate, as the beast he bestrides : equally proud and prancing in his glory, and equally ignorant whither or to what he is running. I lay one night at Rousham,* which is the prettiest place for water-falls, jetts, ponds inclosed with beautiful scenes of green and hanging wood, that ever I I lay next at Mr. Howe's, in Gloucestershire; a fine thing of another kind, where Nature has done every thing, and luckily, for the master has ten children. But it might be made very grand, merely by taking away part of what is there already.

saw.

* Near Oxford, the seat of Col. Cotterell, to whom he addressed the second Epistle of the second book of Horace

Dear Colonel, COBHAM's and your Country's friend!