is moft extravagantly hyperbolical: Nor did I ever read a greater piece of tautology than Vacua cum folus in aula Refpiceres jus omne tuum, cunctofq; minores, In the journey of Polynices is fome geographical error, 66 In mediis audit duo litora campis could hardly be; for the Ifthmus of Corinth is full five miles over: And caligantes abrupto fole Mycanas, is not confiftent with what he tells us, in lib. 4. lin. 305. "that thofe of Mycænæ came not to the war at this time, because they were then in confufion "by the divifions of the brothers, Atreus and Thy"eftes." Now from the raifing the Greek army against Thebes, back to the time of this journey of Polynices, is (according to Statius's own account) three years. T * LETTER VIII. Yours, &c. July 17, 1709. HE morning after I parted from you, I found myself (as I had prophecy'd) all alone, in an uneafy Stage-coach; a doleful change from that agreeable company I enjoy'd the night before! without the leaft hope of entertainment but from my last recourse in fuch cases, a book. I then began to enter into acquaintance with your Moralifts, and had juft receiv'd from them fome cold confolation for the inconveniencies of this life, and the incertainty of human affairs; when I perceiv'd my vehicle to ftop, and heard from the the fide of it the dreadful news of a fick woman preparing to enter it. 'Tis not easy to guess at my mortification, but being fo well fortify'd with philofophy, I ftood refign'd with a ftoical conftancy to endure the worst of evils, a fick woman. I was indeed a little comforted to find, by her voice and dress, that fhe was young and a gentlewoman; but no fooner was her hood remov'd, but I faw one of the finest faces I ever beheld, and to increase my surprize, heard her falute me by my name. I never had more reason to accufe nature for making me fhort-fighted than now, when I could not recollect I had ever feen those fair eyes which knew me fo well, and was utterly at a loss how to address myself; till with a great deal of fimplicity and innocence fhe let me know (even before I difcover'd my ignorance) that she was the daughter of one in our neighbourhood, lately marry'd, who having been confulting her phyficians in town, was returning into the country, to try what good air and a husband cou'd do to recover her. My father, you must know, has fometimes recommended the ftudy of phyfick to me, but I never had any ambition to be a doc tor till this inftant. I ventur'd to prescribe some fruit (which I happen'd to have in the coach) which being forbidden her by her doctors, fhe had the more inclination to. In fhort, I tempted, and the eat; nor was I more like the Devil than the like Eve. Having the good fuccefs of the 'forefaid Tempter before my eyes, I put on the gallantry of the old ferpent, and in spite of my evil form accofted her with all the gaiety I was mafter of; which had fo good effect, that in lefs than an hour she grew pleafant,her colour return'd, and fhe was pleas'd to fay my prefcription had wrought an immediate cure: In a word, I had the pleasantest journey imaginable. F 4 Thus Thus far (methinks) my letter has fomething of the air of a romance, tho' it be true. But I hope you will look on what follows as the greatest of truths, that I think myself extreamly oblig'd by you in all points; efpecially for your kind and honourable information and advice in a matter of the utmost concern to me, which I shall ever acknowledge as the highest proof at once of your friendthip, justice, and fincerity. At the fame time be affur'd, that Gentleman we spoke of, fhall never by any alteration in me discover my knowledge of his mistake; the hearty forgiving of which is the only kind of return I can poffibly make him for fo many favours: And I may derive this pleafure at least from it, that whereas I must otherwise have been a little uneafy to know my incapacity of returning his obligations, I may now, by bearing his frailty, exercise my gratitude and friendship more, than himself either is, or perhaps ever will be,fenfible of. Ille méos, primus qui me fibi junxit, amores Abftulit; ille habeat fecum, fervetque fepulchro ! But in one thing, I must confefs you have your felf oblig'd me more than any man, which is, that you have shew'd me many of my faults, to which as you are the more an implacable enemy, by fo much the more you are a kind friend to me. I cou'd be proud, in revenge, to find a few flips in your verses, which I read in London, and fince in the country, with more application and pleasure: the thoughts are very juft, and you are fure not to let them fuffer by the verfification. If you would oblige me with the trust of any thing of yours, I fhou'd be glad to execute any commiffions you wou'd give me concerning them. I am here fo perfectly at leifure, that nothing wou'd be fo agreeable an entertainment to me; but if you will not ₹ afford afford me that, do not deny me at least the fatisfaction of your letters as long as we are absent, if you wou'd not have him very unhappy, who is very fincerely Your, &c. Having a vacant space here, I will fill it with a fhort Ode on Solitude, which I found yesterday by great accident, and which I find by the date was written when I was not twelve years old; that you may perceive how long I have continu'd in my paffion for a rural life, and in the fame employments of it. Happy the man, whofe wish and care, ·A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whofe herds with milk, whofe fields with bread, Whofe flocks fupply him with attire, Whofe trees in fummer yield bim fade, In winter, fire. Bleft, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years flide foft away, In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day. Sound fleep by night; ftudy and ease, Thus, let me live, unfeen, unknown, Tell where I lie. LET I LETTER IX. August 19, 1709. F I were to write to you as often as I think of you, my letters would be as bad as a rent-charge; but tho' the one be but too little for your good-nature, the other would be too much for your quiet, which is one bleffing good-nature should indifpenfably receive from mankind, in return for those many it gives. I have been inform'd of late, how much I am indebted to to that quality of yours, in fpeaking well of me in my abfence; the only thing by which you prove your felf no wit or critic: tho' indeed I have often thought, that a friend will fhow just as much indulgence (and no more) to my faults when I am abfent, as he does feverity to 'em when I am prefent. To be very frank with you, Sir, I must own, that where I receiv'd fo much civility at first, I could hardly have expected fo much fincerity afterwards. But now I have only to wish, that the last were but equal to the firft, and that as you have omitted nothing to oblige me, fo you would omit nothing to improve me. I caus'd an acquaintance of mine to enquire twice of your welfare, by whom I have been inform'd, that you have left your fpeculative angle in the Widow's Coffee-houfe, and bidding adieu for fome time to all the Rehearsals, Reviews, Gazettes, &c. have march'd off into Lincolnshire. Thus I find you vary your life in the fcene at least, tho' not in the action; for tho' life for the most part, like an old play, be fill the fame, yet now and then a new scene may make it more entertaining. As for my felf, I would not have my life a very regular play, let it be a good merry farce, a G-d's name, and a fig for the critical unities! For the generality of men, a true modern life is like * Tolerable farce, in the Author's own Edit. a God's name omitted there. a true |