As we rife in our fpeculations daily, we are grown fo grave, that we have not condefcended to laugh at any of the idle things about us this week: I have contracted a severity of afpect from deep meditation on high fubjects, equal to the formidable Front of black-brow'd Jupiter, and become an awful Nod as well, when I affent to fome grave and weighty Propofition of the Doctor, or inforce a Criticifm of my own. In a word, Yg himself has not acquired more Tragic Majesty in his aspect by reading his own Verfes, than I by Homer's.

In this ftate, I cannot confent to your publication of that ludicrous trifling Burlefque you write about. Dr. Parnelle alfo joins in my opinion, that it will by no means be well to print it.

Pray give (with the utmost fidelity and efteem) my hearty fervice to the Dean, Dr. Arbuthnot, Mr. Ford, and to Mr. Fortefcue. Let them alfo know at Button's that I am mindful of them. I am, divine Bucoliaft!

08.23.

Dear Sir,

I'

HAVE been perpetually troubled with fickness of late, which has made me to melancholy, that the Immortality of the Soul has been my conftant Speculation, as the Mortality of my Body my conftant Plague. In good earneft, Seneca is nothing to a fit of illness.

Dr. Parnelle will honour Tonfon's Mifcellany with fome very beautiful Copies, at my request. He enters heartily into our defign; I only fear his ftay in town may chance to be but short. Dr. Swift much approves what I propofed, even to the very title, which I defign fhall be, The Works of the Unlearned, published monthly, in which whatever Book appears that deferves praife, fhall be depreciated Ironically, and in the fame manner that modern Critics take to undervalue Works of Value, and to commend the high Productions of Grubstreet.

I fhall go into the Country about a month hence, and shall then defire to take along with me your Poem of the Fan, to confider it at full leifure. I am deeply ingaged in Poetry, the particulars whereof fhall be deferr'd till we meet.

I am very defirous of feeing Mr. Fortefcue when he comes to Town before his journey; if you can any way acquaint him of my defire, I believe his good nature will contrive a way for our meeting. I am ever, with all fincerity, dear Sir,

Your, &c.

Dear Mr. Gay,

WR

Sept. 23, 1714.

Elcome to your native Soil! welcome to your Friends! thrice welcome to me! whether return'd in glory, bleft with Court-intereft, the love and familiarity of the Great, and fill'd with agreeable Hopes; or melancholy with Dejection, contemplative of the changes of Fortune, and doubtful for the future: Whether return'd a triumphant Whig, or a defponding Tory, equally All Hail! equally beloved and welcome to me! If happy, I am to fhare in your elevation; if unhappy, you have still a warm corner in my heart, and a retreat at Binfeld in the worst of times at your service. If you are a Tory, or thought fo by any man, I know it can proceed from nothing but your Gratitude

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to a few People, who endeavour'd to ferve you, and whofe Politicks were never your Concern. If you are a Whig, as I rather hope, and as I think your Principles and mine (as Brother Poets) had ever a Byafs to the Side of Liberty, I know you will be an honeft man and an inoffenfive one. Upon the whole, I know you are incapable of being fo much of either Party as to be good for nothing. Therefore once more, whatever you are, or in whatever ftate you are, All Hail!

One or two of your old Friends complain'd they had heard nothing from you fince the Queen's Death; I told 'em, no man living lov'd Mr. Gay better than I, yet I had not once written to him in all his Voyage. This I thought a convincing proof, how truly one may be a friend to another without telling him fo every month. But they had reafons too themselves to alledge in your excufe, as men who really value one another will never want fuch as make their friends and themselves easy. The late univerfal Concern in publick affairs, threw us all into a hurry of Spirits; even I, who am more a Philofopher than to expect any thing from any Reign, was born away with the current, and full of the expectation of the Succeffor: During your Journeys I knew not whither to aim

a letter

a letter after you, that was a fort of shooting flying add to this the demand Homer had upon me, to write fifty Verfes a day, befides learned Notes, all which are at a conclufion for this year. Rejoice with me, O my Friend, that my Labour is over; come and make merry with me in much Feafting, for I to thee, and thou to me. We will feed among the Lilies. By the Lilies, I mean the Ladies, with whom I hope you have fed to Satiety: Haft thou paffed through many Countries, and not tafted the delights thereof? Haft thou not left to thy Iffue in divers Lands, that German Gays and Dutch Gays may arife, to write Paftorals, and fing their Songs in ftrange Countries? Are not the Blouzelinda's of the Hague as charming as the Rofalinda's of Britain? or have the two great

Paftoral Poets of our Nation renounced Love at the fame time? for Philips, immortal Philips, Hanover Philips, hath deferted, yea and in a ruftick manner kicked his Rofalind. Dr. Parnelle and I have been infeparable ever fince you went. We are now at the Bath, where (if you are not, as I heartily hope, better engaged) your coming would be the greatest pleafure to us in the world. Talk not of Expences: Homer fhall support his Children. I beg a line from you directed to the Post

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