you to forfeit their opinion or your own judgment in any cafe. Let time convince those who know me not, that I am an inoffenfive perfon; though (to say truth) I don't care how little I am indebted to time, for the world is hardly worth living in, at least to one that is never to have health a week together. I have been made to expect Dr. Arbuthnot in town this fortnight, or elfe I had written to him. If he, by never writing to me, feems to forget me, I confider I do the fame seemingly to him, and yet I don't believe he has a more fincere friend in the world than I am : therefore I will think him mine. I am his, Mr. Congreve's, and

Your, etc.

I

LETTER X.

FAITHFULLY affure you, in the midft of that me lancholy with which I have been so long encompaffed, in an hourly expectation almoft of my Mother's death; there was no circumftance that rendered it more unfupportable to me, than that I could not leave her to fee you. Your own prefent escape from fo imminent danger I pray God may prove less precarious than my poor Mother's can be; whofe life at best can be but a short reprieve, or a longer dying. But I fear even that is more than God will please to grant me; for these two days paft, her most dangerous

VOL. VIII.

M

gerous fymptoms are returned upon her; and, unless there be a fudden change, I muft, in a few days, if not in a few hours, be deprived of her. In the afflicting prospect before me, I know nothing that can fo much alleviate it as the view now given me (Heaven grant it may increase!) of your recovery. In the fincerity of my heart, I am exceffively concerned, not to be able to pay you, dear Gay, any part of the debt, I very gratefully remember, I owe you on a like fad occafion, when you was here comforting me in her laft great illness. May your health augment as faft as, I fear, hers must decline! I believe that would be very faft.-May the life that is added to you be paffed in good fortune and tranquillity, rather of your own giving to yourself, than from any expectations or trust in others! May you and I live together, without wishing more felicity or acquifitions than Friendship can give and receive without obligations to Greatnefs! God keep you, and three or four more of those I have known as long, that I may have fomething worth the furviving my Mother! Adieu, dear Gay, and believe me (while you live and while I live).

Your, etc.

As I told you in my laft letter, I repeat it in this: Do not think of writing to me. The Doctor, Mrs. Howard, and Mrs. Blount give me daily accounts of

you.

LETTER XI.

Sunday Night.

I

TRULY rejoice to fee your hand-writing, though I feared the trouble it might give you. I wish I had not known that you are still so exceffively weak. Every day for a week past I had hopes of being able in a day or two more to see you. But my Mother advances not at all, gains no ftrength, and feems but upon the whole to wait for the next cold day to throw her into a Diarrhoea, that must, if it return, carry her off. This being daily to be feared, makes me not dare to go a day from her, left that should prove to be her laft. God send you a speedy recovery, and fuch a total one as, at your time of life, may be expected. You need not call the few words I write to you, either kind or good; that was, and is, nothing. But whatever I have in my nature of kindness, I really have for you, and whatever good I could do, I would, among the very first, be glad to do to you. In your circumstance the old Roman farewel is proper, Vive memor noftri.

Your, etc.

I fend you a very kind letter of Mr. Digby, between whom and me two letters have paffed concerning you.

N°

LETTER XII.

you

wo words can tell you the great concern I feel for you; I affure you it was not, and is not leffened, by the immediate apprehenfion I have now every day lain under of losing my Mother. Be affured, no duty less than that should have kept me one day from attending your condition: I would come and take a room by you at Hampstead, to be with you daily, were fhe not ftill in danger of death. I have conftantly had particular accounts of from the Doctor, which have not ceased to alarm me yet. God preserve your life, and restore your health! I really beg it for my own fake, for I feel I love you more than I thought in health, though I always loved you a great deal. If I am so unfortunate as to bury my poor Mother, and yet have the good fortune to have my prayers heard for you, I hope we may live most of our remaining days together. If, as I believe, the air of a better clime, as the fouthern part of France, may be thought useful for your recovery, thither I would go with you infallibly; and it is very probable we might get the Dean with us, who is in that abandoned state already in which I fhall fhortly be, as to other cares and duties. Dear Gay, be as chearful as your fufferings will permit: God is a better friend than a Court: even any honest man is a better. I

promise

promise you my entire friendship in all events, heartily

praying for your recovery.

Your, etc.

Do not write if you are ever so able: the Doctor

tells me all.

I

.me.

LETTER XIII.

AM glad to hear of the progress of your recovery, and the oftener I hear it, the better, when it becomes easy to you to give it me. I fo well remember the confolation you were to me in my Mother's former illness, that it doubles my concern at this time not to be able to be with you, or you able to be with Had I loft her, I would have been no where elfe but with you during your confinement. I have now paffed five weeks without once going from home, and without any company but for three or four of the days. Friends rarely ftretch their kindness fo far as ten miles. My Lord Bolingbroke and Mr. Bethel have not forgotten to visit me: the rest (except Mrs. Blount once) were contented to fend messages. I never paffed fo melancholy a time, and now Mr. Congreve's death* touches me nearly. It was twenty

years

*Our Author's great regard for Congreve appears from his having dedicated to him, in preference to any great Patron, his translation

M 3