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Zeno, or Xenophon) it may be Y perhaps, but I have somehow a secret partiality for W, am I near it, or no? by this time I suppose, 'tis almost a done thing. There is no struggling with Destiny, so I acquiesce. Thus far only I should be glad to know with certainty, whether it be likely [ ] should continue in statu quo, till the Commencement (which I don't conceive) for [ ] I should think it rather better for T. to give up his pretensions with a good grace, than to wait the pleasure of those dirty cubs, who would infallibly prefer the first that offers of their own people, but I submit this to your judgment, you (as you first made him a competitor) ought to determine at what time he may most decently withdraw. I have some uneasiness too on Brown's account, who has sacrificed all his interests with so much frankness, and is still so resolute to do every thing for us without reserve, that I should see him with great concern under the paw of a fell visitor, and exposed to the insolence of that old rascal, the master. Trollope (if you remember) would engage himself no longer than the end of this year: 'tis true he has never said any thing since, tending that way, but he is not unlikely to remember it at a proper time. And as to *Smart, he must necessarily be abîmé, in a very

The person mentioned here is Smart the Poet. It appears in Anderson's Life of him, that he was admitted of Pembroke Hall, Oct. 30th, 1739, elected Fellow of Pembroke in 1745, and M. A. 1747. The Comedy to which

short time. His debts daily increase (you remember the state they were in, when you left us); Addison, I know, wrote smartly to him last week; but it has had no effect, that signifies, only I observe he takes hartshorn from morning to night lately: in the mean time he is amusing himself with a Comedy of his own writing, which he makes all the boys of his acquaintance act, and intends to borrow the Zodiack room, and have it performed publickly, our friend Lawman, the mad attorney, is his copyist; and truly the author himself is to the full as mad as he. His piece, he says, is inimitable, true sterling wit, and humour by God; and he can't hear the Prologue without being ready to die with laughter. He acts five parts himself, and is only sorry, he can't do all the rest. He has also advertised a collection of Odes; and for his Vanity and Faculty of Lying, they are come to their full maturity. All this, you see, must come to a Jayl, or Bedlam, and that without any help, almost without pity. By the way, now I talk of a Jayl, please to let me know, when and where you would have me pay my own debts.

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Gray alludes, was called a Trip to Cambridge, or the grateful Fair.' Which was acted in Pembroke College Hall, the parlour of which made the green room. No remains of this play have been found, but a few of the Songs, and the Soliloquy of the Princess Periwinkle sola, attended by fourteen Maids of great Honour,' containing the well known simile of the Collier, Barber, and the Brickdust man. "Thus when a Barber and a Collier fight," &c.-Ed.

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Chapman, I suppose you know, is warm in his mastership; soon after his accession, I was to see him: there was a very brilliant (Cambridge), assembly, Middleton, Rutherforth, Heberden, Robinson, Coventry, and various others. He did the honours with a great deal of comical dignity, assisted by a Bedmaker in greasy leather breeches, and a livery, and now he is gone to town to get preferment. But what you'll wonder at, and what delights me, Coventry is his particular confident (tho' very disagreeably to himself,) he can't

his door, but he finds the master there, who comes to set with him at all hours, and brings his works with him, for he is writing a great book on the *Roman Constitution. Well, upon the strength of this, I too am grown very great with Coventry, and to say the truth (bating his nose, and another circumstance, which is nothing to me) he is the best sort of man in this place. Middleton has published a small octavo on the Roman Senate, well enough, but nothing of very great consequence, and is now gone to be inducted into a Sine-cure (not £100 a year) that Sir J. Frederick gave him. What's worse, for the sake of this little nasty thing

* An Essay on the Roman Senate by Thomas Chapman, D. D. Master of Magdalen College in Cambridge, and Chaplain in Ordinary to his Majesty, 1750, 8vo. A Review of this Book, as well as of Middleton's, and other writers on the same subject, was published by Hooke, 4to. 1758.Ed.

(I am told) he is determined to suppress a work, that would have made a great noise, or publish it all mangled or disfigured, and this when he has (I am assured) near £700 a year of his own already, and might live independent, and easy, and speak his mind, in the face of the whole world Clerical and Laïcal, such a passion have some men to lick the dust, and be trampled upon. The Fellow Commoners (the bucks) are run mad, they set women upon their heads in the streets at noon-day, break open shops, game in the coffee-houses on Sundays, and in short act after my own heart.

My works are not so considerable as you imagine. I have read Pausanias and Athenæus all through, and Æschylus again. I am now in Pindar and Lysias: for I take Verse and Prose together like bread and cheese.

The Chronology is growing daily, the most noble of my performances latterly is a Pôme on the uncommon death of Mr. Walpole's Cat, which being of a proper size and subject for a gentleman in your condition to peruse, (besides that I flatter myself Miss will give her judgment upon it too) I herewith send you, it wont detain you long. Adieu, my dear Sir, I am ever yours,

Cambr. March [1747], Tuesday Night.

T. G.

Trollope is in town, still at his lodgings, and has been very ill. Brown wrote a month ago to Hayes and Christopher; but has had no answer whether

or no they shall be here at the Commencement, can you tell? Morley is going to be married to a grave and stayed Maiden of 30 years old with much pelf, and his own relation. Poor Soul!

XX. MR. GRAY TO DR. WHARTON.

MY DEAR WHARTON,

I PERCEIVE that mine did not reach you till the day after you had wrote your little letter. If you have time to give the Gentleman (before he goes to town) my note endorsed by you, or will send it to your brother, the money shall be paid in town at the day you mention. The rest of my questions are all sufficiently answered by the news you tell · me, (not but that I knew it before.) What can one say to a person in such circumstances? I need not say how much happiness I wish you, if that be the way to it. I rejoice to see you with your boots on. It would be cruel to detain you long at present. When you have any leisure, I hope you will let me a little more into the matter. The old maids give you heartily joy, and hug themselves in their virginity. Carlyon is in your room, and I can't well go and strip him; I reckon he will not remain long here. Adieu! and think me yours ever,

T. G.

March 26, [1747], Cambridge.

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