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modeftly be content to be accounted a Patriach. But were you a little younger, I fhould rather rank you with Sir Amadis, and his Fellows. If Piety be fo Romantic, I fhall turn Hermit in good earneft; for I fee one may go fo far as to be Poetical, and hope to fave one's Soul at the fame time. I really with myself fomething more, that is, a Prophet; for I wish I were as Habakkuk, to be taken by the Hair of the Head, and vifit Daniel in his Den. You are very obliging in saying, I have now a whole Family, upon my Hands, to whom to difcharge the Part of a Friend. I affure you I like "em all fo well, that I will never quit my Hereditary Right to them: You have made me your's, and confequently them mine. I ftill fee them walking on my Green at Twickenham, and gratefully remember (not only their green Gowns) but the Inftructions they gave me how to flide down and trip up the steepeft Slopes of my Mount.

Pray think of me fometimes, as I fhall often of you; and know me for what I am, that is,

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Dear Sir,

To the fame.

Twickenham, Oct. 21. 1721,

YOUR very kind and obliging manner of enquiring after me, among the first Concerns of Life, at your Refufcitation, should have been fooner anfwer'd and acknowledg'd. I fincerely rejoice at your recovery from an Illnefs which gave me lefs Pain than it did you, only from my Ignorance of it. I fhould have elfe been seriously and deeply affected in the Thought of your Danger by a Fever. I think it a fine and natural Thought, which I lately read in a private Letter of Montaigne, giving an account of the last Words of an intimate Friend of his Adieu, my Friend! the Pain I feel will foon be over; but I grieve for that you are to feel, which is to laft you for Life."

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I join with your Family in giving God thanks for lending us a worthy Man foinewhat longer. The Comforts you receive from their Attendance put me in mind of what old Fletcher of Saltoune faid one Day to me: "Alas, I have nothing to do but to "die: I am a poor Individual; no Creature to "wifh or to fear for my Life or Death: 'Tis the હે only reafon I have to repent being a fingle Man; "now I grow old, I am like a Tree without a Prop, "and without young Trees of my own fhedding "to grow round me for Company and Defence".

I hope the Gout will foon go after the Fever, and all evil Things remove far from you. But pray tell me, when will you move towards us? If you had an Interval to get hither, I care not what fixes you afterwards, except the Gout. Pray come, and never ftir from us again. Do away your dirty Acres,

Acres, caft 'em to dirty People, fuch as in the
Scripture-Phrafe poffefs the Land. Shake off your
Earth like the noble Animal in Milton.

The tawny Lyon, pawing to get free

His hinder Parts, he fprings as broke from Bonds,
And rampant shakes his brinded Main: the Ounce,
The Lizard, and the Tyger, as the Mole
Rifing, the crumbled Earth above them throw
In Hillocks.

But I believe Milton never thought, thefe fine Verfes of his fhould be apply'd to a Man felling a parcel of dirty Acres; tho' in the main I think it may have some resemblance; for God knows, this little Space of Ground nourishes, buries, and confines us, as that of Eden did thofe Creatures, till we can fhake it loofe, at least in our Affections and Defires..

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Believe, dear Sir, I truly love and value you?" Let Mrs Blount know that the is in the Lift of my Memento Domine's Famulorum Famularumque's, &c. My poor Mother is far from well, declining; and I am watching over her, as we watch an expiring Taper, that even when it looks brighteft, waftes fafteft. I am (as you will fee from the whole Air of this Letter) not in the gayeft nor eafieft Humour, but always with Sincerity,

Dear Sir,

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Yours.

To

Dear Sir,

OU

To the fame.

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June 27, 1723.

You may truly do me the Justice to think no man is more your fincere Well-wisher than myself, or more the fincere Well-wifher of your whole Family; with all which, I cannot deny but I have a mixture of Envy to you all, for loving one another so well; and for enjoying the fweets of that life, which can only be tafted by People of good will.

They from all Shades the Darkness can exclude, And from a Defart banish Solitude.

Torbay is a Paradife, and a Storm is but an Amufement to fuch People. If you drink Tea upon a Promontory that overhangs the Sea, it is preferable to an Affembly; and the whiftling of the Wind better Mufic to contented and loving Minds, than the Opera to the Spleenful, Ambitious, Diffeas'd, Diftafted, and Diftracted Souls, which this World affords: nay, this World affords no other. Happy they! who are banish'd from us; but happier they, who can banish themfelves, or more properly, banifh the World from them!

Alas! I live at Twickenham;

I take that Period to be very fumblime, and to include more than a hundred Sentences that might be writ to exprefs Distraction, Hurry, Multiplication of Nothings, and all the fatiguing perpetual Business of having no Business to do. You'll won

der

der I reckon tranflating the Odysey as nothing. But whenever I think seriously (and of late I have met with so many Occafions of thinking seriously, that I begin never to think otherwife) I cannot but think these things very idle; as idle, as if a Beast of Burden fhould go on jingling his Bells, without bearing any thing valuable about him, or ever serving his Mafter.

Life's vain Amufements, amidst which we dwell; Not weigh'd, or understood by the grim.God of Hell!

Said a Heathen Poet, as he is tranflated, by a ChriAtian Bishop, who has, firft by his Exhortations, and fince by his Example, taught me to think as becomes a Refonable Creature. But he is gone! He carry'd away more Learning, than is left in this Nation behind him; but he left us more in the noble Example of bearing Calamity well. Tis true, we want Literature very much; but pray God we don't want Patience more! if thefe Precedents are to prevail.

I remember I promis'd to write to you, as foon as I fhould hear you were got home. You must look on this as the first Day I've been myself, and pafs over the Mad Interval un-imputed to me. How punctual a Correfpondent I fhall hence-forward be able, or not able, to be, God knows; but he knows I fhall ever be a punctual and grateful Friend, and all the good Wishes of fuch an one will ever attend you.

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