or wet place, and you are adminiftring laws to the wild Irish. But I must own, when you talk of Building and Planting, you touch my ftring; and I am as apt to pardon you, as the fellow that thought himself Jupiter would have pardoned the other madman who called himself his brother Neptune. Alas, Sir, do you know whom you talk to? one that has been a Poet, was degraded to a Tranflator, and, at last, through mere dulness, is turned an Architect. You know Martial's cenfure, Praconem facito vel Architectum. However, I have one way left, to plan, to elevate, and to surprise (as Bays fays); the next news you may expect to hear, is that I am in debt.

The history of my Tranfplantation and fettlement which you defire, would require a volume, were I to enumerate the many projects, difficulties, viciffitudes, and various fates attending that important part of my life: much more, fhould I defcribe the many Draughts, Elevations, Profiles, Perspectives, etc. of every Palace and Garden propofed, intended, and happily raised, by the strength of that faculty wherein all great Genius's excel, Imagination. At laft, the Gods and fate have fixed me on the borders of the Thames, in the districts of Richmond and Twickenham: it is here I have passed an intire year of my life, without any fixed abode in London, or more than casting a tranfitory glance (for a day or two at most in a month) on the pomps of the Town. It is here I hope to receive you, Sir, returned from eternizing the Ireland

of this age. For you my ftructures rise; for you my Colonades extend their wings; for you my groves aspire, and roses bloom. And, to fay truth, I hope pofterity (which, no doubt, will be made acquainted with all these things) will look upon it as one of the principal motives of my Architecture, that it was a manfion prepared to receive you, against your own should fall to duft, which is deftined to be the tomb of poor Frank and Betty, and the immortal monument of the Fidelity of two fuch Servants, who have excelled in conftancy the very Rats of your family. What more can I tell you of myself? so much, and

yet

all put together fo little, that I scarce care or know how to do it. But the very reasons that are against putting it upon paper, are as ftrong for telling it you in perfon; and I am uneafy to be fo long denied the fatisfaction of it.

At present I confider you bound in by the Irish fea, like the ghofts in Virgil,

Trifti palus inamabilis unda

Alligat, et novies Styx circumfufa coërcet!

and I can't exprefs how I long to renew our old intercourse and conversation, our morning conferences in bed in the fame room, our evening walks in the park, our amufing voyages on the water, our philofophical fuppers, our lectures, our differtations, our gravities, our reveries, our fooleries, or what not?This awakens the memory of fome of those who have

made a part in all these. Poor Parnelle, Garth,

Rowe!

1

Rowe! You justly reprove me for not speaking of the death of the last: Parnelle was too much in my mind, to whose memory I am erecting the best monument I can. What he gave me to publish, was but a small part of what he left behind him; but it was the best, and I will not make it worse by enlarging it. I'd fain know if he be buried at Chester, or Dublin; and what care has been, or is to be taken for his monument, etc. Yet I have not neglected my devoirs to Mr. Rowe; I am writing this very day his Epitaph for Westminster-Abbey. After these, the best-natured of Men, Sir Samuel Garth, has left me in the truest concern for his lofs. His death was very heroical, and yet unaffected enough to have made a faint or a Philofopher famous. But ill tongues, and worfe hearts have branded even his last moments, as wrongfully as they did his life, with Irreligion. You must have heard many tales on this fubject; but if ever there was a good Chriftian without knowing himself to be fo, it was Dr. Garth,

Your, etc.

This fuppofes rather an abfolute ignorance of Christianity than a rejection of it; and feems to be the more inexcufable condition of the two. For nothing but a very faulty negligence could be the occafion of the first; whereas, an understanding ill fitted to judge of the nature of evidence, might betray him into the latter, W.

LETTER X.

TO MR. *

September 17.

letter your

THE HE gaiety of proves you not so studious of Wealth as many of your profeffion are, fince you can derive matter of mirth from want of business. You are none of those Lawyers who deferve the motto of the devil, Circuit quærens quem devoret. But your Circuit will at least procure you one of the greatest of temporal bleffings, Health. What an advantageous circumstance is it, for one that loves rambling so well, to be a grave and reputable rambler? while (like your fellow Circuiteer, the Sun) you travel the round of the earth, and behold all the iniquities under the heavens? You are much a fuperior genius to me in rambling; you, like a Pigeon, (to which I would fooner compare a Lawyer than to a Hawk,) can fly fome hundred leagues at a pitch; I, like a poor squirrel, am continually in motion indeed, but it is about a cage of three foot; my little excurfions are but like those of a shopkeeper, who walks every day a mile or two before his own door, but minds his business all the while. Your letter of the Caufe lately before you, I could not but communicate to fome ladies of acquaintance. I am of opinion, if you continued a correspondence of the fame fort during a whole Cir

your

cuit,

cuit, it could not fail to please the sex, better than half the novels they read; there would be in them what they love above all things, a most happy union of Truth and Scandal. I affure you the Bath affords nothing equal to it: it is on the contrary full of grave and fad men, Mr. Baron S. Lord Chief Justice A. Judge P. and Counsellor B. who has a large pimple on the tip of his nofe, but thinks it inconfiftent with his gravity to wear a patch, notwithstanding the precedent of an eminent judge.

I am, dear Sir,

Your, etc.

LETTER XI.

TO THE EARL OF BURLINGTON.

My Lord,

IF your Mare could speak*, she would give an account of what extraordinary company she had on the road; which fince she cannot do, I will.

It was the enterprizing Mr. Lintot, the redoubtable rival of Mr. Tonfon, who, mounted on a stonehorse, (no disagreeable companion to your Lordship's mare,)

over

* The account of this journey is given with the most exquisite humour. I know of nothing in our language that equals it, except, perhaps, Mr. Colman's defcription, in a Terra Filius, of an expedition of his bookseller and his wife to Oxford.