prefence of the Princefs, to reprefent the Mater Ex-
ercitus.
At Twickenham the world goes otherwife. There
are certain old people who take up all my time, and
will
FROM MR. DIGBY. 63
will hardly allow me to keep any other company. They
were introduced here by a man of their own fort,
who has made me perfectly rude to all contemporaries,
and won't fo much as fuffer me to look upon them.
The perfon I complain of is the Bifiiop of Rochefler.
Yet he allows me (from fomething he has heard of
your character and that of your family, as if you were
of the old feet of moralifts) to write three or four
fides of paper to you, and to tell you (what thefe fort
of people never tell but with truth and religious fm-
cerity) that I am, and ever will be,
Your, etc.
LETTER XIIL
HP H E fame reafon that hinder'd your writing, hin-
der'd mine, the pleafmg expectation to fee you
in town. Indeed, fince the willing confinement I have
lain under here with my mother, (whom it is natural
and reafonable I mould rejoice with, as well as grieve,)
I could the better bear your abfence from London,
for I could hardly have feen you there ; and it would
not have been quite reafonable to have drawn you to
a fick room hither, from the firil embraces of your
friends. My mother is now (I thank God) wonder-
fully recovered, though not fo much as yet to venture
out of her chamber, but enough to enjoy a few par-
ticular
6 4 LETTERS TO AND
ticular friends, when they have the good nature to
look upon her. I may recommend to you the room
we fit in, upon one (and that a favourite) account,
that it is the very warmed in the houfe ; we and our
fires will equally fmile upon your face. There is a
Perfian proverb that fays (I think very prettily), " The
" converfation of a friend brightens the eyes." This
I take to be a fplendor flill more agreeable than the
fires you fo delightfully defcribe.
That you may long enjoy your own fire-fide in
the metaphorical fenfe ; that is, all thofe of your fa-
mily who make it pleafing to fit and fpend whole
wintry months together (a far more rational delight,
and better felt by an honefl heart, than all the glar-
ing entertainments, numerous lights, and falfe fplen-
dors, of an Afiembly of empty heads, aking hearts,
and falfe faces). This is my fincere wifh to you and
yours. ff,,;.
You fay you propofe much pleafure in feeing fome
new faces about town, of my acquaintance. I guefs
you mean Mrs. Howard's and Mrs. Blount's. And
I affure you, you ought to take as much pleafure in
their hearts, if they are what they fometimes exprefs
with regard to you.
Believe me, dear Sir, to you all, a very faithful
fervant.
FROM MR. DIGBY. 65
LETTER XIV.
FROM MR. DIGBY.
Sherburne, Aug. 14, 1723.
T CAN'T return from fo agreeable an entertainment
as yours in the country, without acknowledging it.
I thank you heartily for the new agreeable idea of life
you there gave me ; it will remain long with me, for
it is very ftrongly imprefied upon my imagination.
I repeat the memory of it often, and mail value that
faculty of the mind now more than ever, for the
power it gives me of being entertained, in your villa,
when abfent from it. As you are pofleffed of all the
pleafures of the country, and, as I think, of a right
mind, what can I wifh you but health to enjoy them ?
This I fo heartily do, that I mould be even glad to
hear your good old mother might lofe all her prefent
pleafures in her unwearied care of you, by your bet-
ter health convincing them it is unneceflary.
I am troubled, and mail be fo, till I hear you have
received this letter : for you gave me the greatefl
pleafure imaginable in yours, and I am impatient to
acknowledge it. If I any ways deferve that friendly
warmth and affection with which you write, it is, that
I have a heart full of love and efteem for you : fo
truly j that I mould lofe the greatefl: pleafure of my
life if I loft your good, opinion. It rejoices me very
much to be reckoned by you in the clafs of honefl
VOL. viii. F men:
66 LETTERS TO AND
men : for though I am not troubled over much about
the opinion moft may have of me, yet, I own, it
would grieve me not to be thought well of by you
and fome few others. I will not doubt my own
ftrength, yet I have this further fecurity to maintain
my integrity, that I cannot part with that, without
forfeiting your efteem with it.
Perpetual diforder and ill health have for fome
years fo difguifed me, that I fometimes fear I do not
to my bed friends enough appear what I really am.
Sicknefs is a great oppreflbr ; it does great injury to
a zealous heart, {lining its warmth, and not fuffering
it to break out into action. But, I hope, I mail not
make this complaint much longer. I have other
hopes that pleafe me too, though not fo well grounded:
thefe are, that you may yet make a journey weft*
ward with Lord Bathurft ; but of the probability of
this I do not venture to reafon, becaufe I would not
part with the pleafure of that belief. It grieves me
to think how far I am removed from you, and from
that excellent Lord, whom I love ! Indeed I remem-
ber him, as one that has made ficknefs eafy to me,
by bearing with my infirmities in the fame manner
that you have always done. I often too confider him
in other lights that make him valuable to me. With
him, I know not by what connection, you never fail
to come into my mind, as if you were infeparable. I
have, as you guefs, many philofophical reveries in the
fliades of Sir Walter Raleigh, of which you are a
great
FROM MR. DIGBY. 67
great part. You generally enter there with me, and
like a good Genius, applaud and flrengthen all my
fentiments that have honour in them. This good
office which you have often done me unknowingly, I
muft acknowledge now, that my own breaft may not
reproach me with ingratitude, and difquiet me when I
would mufe again in that folemn fcene. I have not
room now left to afk you many queftions I intended
about the Odyfiey. I beg I may know how far you
have carried Ulyfles on his journey, and how you
have been entertained with him on the way ? I delire
I may hear of your health, of Mrs. Pope's, and of
every thing elfe that belongs to you.
How thrive your garden plants? How look the
trees ? How fpring the Brocoli and the Fenochio ?
Hard names to fpell ! How did the poppies bloom ?
And how is the great room approved ? What parties
have you had of pleafure ? What in the grotto ? What
upon the Thames ? I would know how all your hours
pafs, all you fay, and all you do ; of which I mould
queftion you yet farther, but my paper is full and
fpares you. My brother Ned is wholly yours, fo my
father defires to be, and every foul here whofe name
is Digby. My fifter will be yours in particular.
What can I add more ?
I am, etc.
F 2
68 LETTERS TO AND
LETTER XV.
O&ober 10,
T WAS upon the point of taking a much greater jour-
ney than to Bermudas, even to that mdifeover'd
country, from ivhofe bourn No traveller returns!
A fever carried me on the high gallop towards it
for fix or feven days -But here you have me now,
and that is all I mail fay of it : fince which time an
impertinent lamenefs kept me at home twice as long ;
as if fate fhould fay (after the other dangerous ill-
nefs),, " You mail neither go into the other world,
* nor any where you like in this." Elfe who knows
but I had been at Hom-lacy ?
I confpire in your fentiments, emulate your plea-
fures, wifh for your company. You are all of one
heart and one foul, as was faid of the primitive
Chriflians : 'tis like the kingdom of the juft upon
earth ; not a wicked wretch to interrupt you, but a
fet of tried, experienced friends, and fellow-com-
forters, who have feen evil men and- evil days, and
have by a fuperior rectitude of heart fet yourfelves
above them, and reap your reward. Why will you
ever, of your own accord, end fuch a millenary year
in London ? Trahfmigrate (if I may fo call it) into
other creatures, in that fcene of folly militant, when
you may reign for ever at Hom-lacy in fenfe and rea-
fon triumphant ? I appeal to a third lady in your fa-
mily,
FROM MR. DIGBY. 69
mily, whom I take to be the mod innocent, and the
leaft warped by idle famion and cuftom of you all ;
I appeal to her, if you are not every foul of you bet-
ter people, better companions, and happier, where
you are ? I defire her opinion under her hand in your
next letter, I mean Mifs Scudamore's b . I am confi-
dent if me would or durft fpeak her fenfe, and em-
ploy that reafoning which God has given her, to in-
fufe more thoughtfulnefs into you all; thofe argu-
ments could not fail to put you to the blufh, and
keep you out of town, like people fenfible of your
own felicities. I am not without hopes, if me can
detain a parliament man and a lady of quality from
the world one winter, that I may come upon you with
fuch irrefiftible arguments another year, as may carry
you all with me to Bermudas % the feat of all earthly
happinefs and the new Jerufalem of the righteous.
Don't talk of the decay of the year, the feafon is
good where the people are fo : 'tis the beft time in
the year for a painter ; there is more variety of co-
lours in the leaves, the profpecls begin to open,
through the thinner woods, over the valleys ; and
through the high canopies of trees to the higher arch
of heaven : the dews of the morning impearl every
thorn,
b Afterwards Ducliefs of Beaufort, at this time very young. P.
She was afterwards much talked of, for a particular intrigue.
c About this time the Rev. Dean Berkley conceived his project
of ere&ing a fettlement in Bermudas for the propagation of the
Chriilian faith, and introduction of Sciences into America. P.
F 3
70 LETTERS TO AND
thorn, and fcatter diamonds on the verdant mantle of
the earth ; the frofts are frefh and wholefome : what
would you have ? The Moon mines too, though not
for Lovers thefe cold nights, but for Aftronomers.
Have you not reflecting Telefcopes d , whereby ye
may innocently magnify her fpots and blemiihes ?
Content yourfelves with them, and do not come to a
place where your own eyes become reflecting telef-
copes, and where thofe of all others are equally fuch
upon their neighbours. Stay you at leaft, (for what
I've faid before relates only to the ladies : don't ima-
gine I'll write about any eyes but theirs,) ftay, I fay,
from that idle, bufy-looking Sanhedrin, where wif-
dom or no wifdom is the eternal debate, not (as it
lately was in Ireland) an accidental one.
If, after all, you will defpife good advice, and re-
folve to come to London, here you will find me, do-
ing juft the things I mould not, living where I mould
not, and as worldly, as idle, in a word, as much an
Anti-Bermudanifl as any body. Dear Sir, make the
ladies know I am their fervant, you know I am
Yours, etc.
d Thefe inflruments were jufl. then brought to perfection. P.
FROM MR. DIGBY. 71
LETTER XVI.
Aug. 12.
T HAVE been above a month ftrolling about in Buck*
inghamfhire and Oxfordfhire, from garden to gar-
den, but ftill returning to Lord Cobham's with frefh
fatisfa&ion. I mould be forry to fee my Lady Scu-
damore's, till it has had the full advantage of Lord
B*'s improvements ; and then I will expect fome-
thing like the waters of Rifkins, and the woods of
Oakley together, which (without flattery) would be
at leaft as good as any thing in our world : For as
to the hanging gardens of Babylon, the Paradife of
Cyrus, and the Sharawaggi's of China f, I have
little or no ideas of them, but, I dare fay, Lord B*
has, becaufe they were certainly both very great
and very wild. I hope Mrs. Mary Digby is quite
tired of his Lordfhip's Extravagante JBergerie : and
that me is juft now fitting, or rather reclining on a
bank, fatigued with over-much dancing and fmging
at his unwearied requeft and inftigation. I know
your love of eafe fo well, that you might be in dan-
ger of being too quiet to enjoy quiet, and too philo-
fophical to be a philofopher ; were it not for the fer-
ment Lord B. will put you into. One of his Lord-
fhip's
f See Sir W. Temple's account of them, vol. 3, of his Eflays ;
but above all, Sir W. Chambers's description of them, and the
Heroic Epiftle addrefled to him.
F4
72 LETTERS TO AND
Ihip's maxims is, that a total abftinence from intern-
perance or bufmefs, is no more philofophy, than a total
confopiation * of the fenfes is repofe ; one muft feel
enough of its contrary to have a relifh of either.
But, after all, let your temper work, and be as fedate
and contemplative as you will, I'll engage you mail be
fit for any of us, when you come to town in the win-
ter. Folly will laugh you into all the cuftoms of the
company here ; nothing will be able to prevent your
converfion to her, but indifpofition, which, I hope,
will be far from you. I am telling the worft that can
come of you ; for as to vice, you are fafe ; but folly
is many an honeft man's, nay every good-humoured
man's lot : nay, it is the feafoning of life ; and fools
(in one fenfe) are. the fait of the earth : a little is ex-
cellent, though indeed a whole mouthful is juftly
called the Devil.
So much for your diverfions next winter, and for
mine. I envy you much more at prefent, than I mall
then ; for if there be on earth an image of paradife,
it is fuch perfect Union and Society as you all pof-
fjefs. I would have rny innocent envies and wifhes of
your ftate known to you all ; which is far better than
making you compliments, for it is inward approbation
and eileem. My Lord Digby has in me a fincere
fervant, or would have, were there any occafion for
me to manifefl it.
* One of the few new words he ever ufed,
FROM MR. DIGBY, 73
LETTER XVII.
December 28, 1724.
TT is now the feafon to wifh you a good end of one
year, and a happy beginning of another : but both
thefe you know how to make yourfelf, by only con-
tinuing fuch a life as you have been long accuftomed
to lead. As for good works, they are things I dare
not name, either to thofe that do them, or to thofe
that do them not ; the firfl are too modefl, and the
latter too felfifh, to bear the mention of what are be-
come either too old-fafhioned, or too private, to con-
flitute any part of the vanity or reputation of the pre-
ferxt age. However, it were to be wifhed people
would now and then look upon good works as they do
upon old wardrobes, merely in cafe any of them mould
by chance come into fafhion again ; as ancient fardin-
gales revive in modern hooped petticoats (which may
be properly compared to charities, as they cover a
multitude of fins).
They tell me that at Colemill certain antiquated
charities and obfolete devotions are yet fubfifting :
that a thing called Chriftian Chearfulnefs, (not incom-
patible with Chriftmas-pies and plum-broth,) whereof
frequent is the mention in old fermons and alma-
nacks, is really kept alive and in pra&ice : that feed-
ing the hungry, and giving alms to the poor, do yet
make a part of good houfe-keeping, in a latitude not
i more
74 LETTERS TO AND
more remote from London than fourfcore miles : and
laftly, that prayers and roaft-beef actually made fome
people as happy as a whore and a bottle. But here
in town, I allure you, men, women, and children have
done with thefe things. Charity not only begins, but
ends, at home. Jnflead of the four cardinal virtues,
now reign four courtly ones ; we have cunning for
prudence, rapine for juflice, time-ferving for fortitude,
and luxury for temperance. Whatever you may
fancy, where you live in a flate of ignorance, and fee
nothing but quiet, religion, and good-humour, the
cafe is juft as I tell you where people underfland the
world, and know how to live with credit and glory.
I wifh that heaven would open the eyes of men,
and make them fenfible which of thefe is right ; whe-
ther, upon a due conviction, we are to quit faction
and gaming, and high-feeding, and all manner of
luxury, and to take to your country way ? or you to
leave prayers, and almfgiving, and reading, and exer-
cife, and come into our meafures ? I wifh (I fay) that
this matter was as clear to all men as it is to
Your affectionate, etc.
FROM MR. DIGBY. 75
LETTER XVIII.
DEAR SIR, April 21, 1726.
T HAVE a great inclination to write to you, though I
cannot by writing, any more than I could by words,
exprefs what part I bear in your fufferings. Nature
and efteem in you are joined to aggravate your afflic-
tion: the latter I have in a degree equal even to
yours, and a tie of friendfhip approaches near to the
tendernefs of nature : yet, God knows, no man living
is lefs fit to comfort you, as no man is more deeply
fenfible than myfelf of the greatnefs of the lofs. That
very virtue which fecures his prefent ftate from all
the forrows incident to ours, does but aggrandize our
fenfation of its being removed from our fight, from
our affection, and from our imitation ; for the friend-
fhip and fociety of good men does not only make us
happier, but it makes us better. Their death does
but complete their felicity before our own, who pro-
bably are not yet arrived to that degree of perfection
which merits an immediate reward. That your dear
brother and my dear friend was fo, I take his very
removal to be a proof; Providence would certainly
lend virtuous men to a world that fo much wants
them, as long as in its juftice to them it could fpare
them to us. May my foul be with thofe who have
meant well, and have acted well to that meaning !
And,
76 . LETTERS, &c.
And, I doubt not, if this prayer be granted, I fhall be
with him. Let us prefer ve his memory in the way
he would beft like, by recollecting what his beha-
viour would have been, in every incident of our lives
to come, and doing in each juft as we think he would
have done j fo we fhall have him always before
our eyes, and in our minds, and (what is more) in
our lives and manners. I hope when we fhall meet
him next, we fhall be more of a piece with him, and
confequently not to be evermore feparated from him.
I will add but one word that relates to what remains
of yourfelf and me, fince fo valued a part of us is
gone ; it is to beg you to accept, as yours by inherit-
ance, of the vacancy he has left in a heart, which
(while he could fill it with fuch hopes, wifhes, and
affections for him as fuited a mortal creature) was
truly and warmly his ; and mail (I afTure you in the
fincerity of forrow for my own lofs) be faithfully at
your fervice while I continue to love his memory,
that is, while I continue to be myfelf.
Mr. Digby died in the year 1726, and is buried in the Church
of Sherburne in Dorfetfhire, with an Epitaph written by the
Author. P.
LETTERS
TO AND FROM
DR. ATTERBURY,
BISHOP OF ROCHESTER,
From the Year 1716 to 1723.
LETTER I.
-;i./Ti '".r" ~> ' i '.'.'" U ."J;,r f I
THE BISHOP OF ROCHESTER TO MR. POPE.
December, 1716.
T RETURN your a Preface, which I have read twice
with pleafure. The modefty and good fenfe
there is in it, muft pleafe every one that reads
it : And fince there is nothing that can offend, I
fee not why you fhould balance a moment about
printing it always provided, that there is nothing
faid there which you may have occaiion to unfay
hereafter ; of which you yourfelf are the beft and the
only judge. This is my fmcere opinion, which I give,
becaufe you aik it : And which I would not give,
though afked, but to a man I value as much as I do
you ; being fenfible how improper it is, on many ac-
counts, for me to interpofe in things of this nature ;
which I never underftood well, and now underftand
fome-
a The general Preface to Mr. Pope's Poems, firft printed 1717,
the year after the date of this letter, P.
78 LETTERS TO AND
fomewhat lefs than ever I did. But I can deny you no-
thing; efpecially fmce you have had the goodnefs often^
and patiently, to hear what I have faid againft rhyme *,
and in behalf of blank verfe; with little difcretion
perhaps, but, I am fure, without the leaft prejudice :
Being myfelf equally incapable of writing well in
either of thofe ways, and leaning therefore to neither
fide of the queftion, but as the appearance of reafon
inclines me. Forgive me this error, if it be one ; an
error of above thirty years {landing, and which there-
fore I mail be very loth to part with. In other mat-
ters which relate to polite writing, I mail feldom dif-
fer from you : Or, if I do, mail, I hope, have the
prudence to conceal my opinion. I am, as much as
I ought to be, that is, as much as any man can be,
Your, etc.
* In the difpute about the refpe&ive merits of rhyme and blank
verfe, Lord Kaims feems to have obferved with acutenefs and
judgment, that rhyme is but indifferently fuited to elevated and
fublime fubje&s, as producing a certain gaiety, airinefs, and cheer-
fulnefs, not according with the gravity of the fentiments. In his 1 8th
chapter of Elements of Criticifm, are many juft observations, with
fome exceptions, on the comparative merits of rhyme and blank
verfe, worth a diligent perufal.
FROM DR. ATTERBURY. 79
LETTER II.
THE BISHOP OF ROCHESTER TO MR. POPE.
Feb. 18, 1717.
j HOPED to find you laft night at Lord Bathurft's,
and came but a few minutes after you had left
him. I brought Gorboduc b with me ; and Dr. Ar-
buthnot telling me he mould fee you, I depofited the
book in his hands : Out of which, I think, my Lord
Bathurft got it before we parted, and from him there-
fore you are to claim it. If Gorboduc mould flill
mifs his way to you, others are to anfwer for it; 1
have delivered up my truft. I am not forry your
Alcander c is burnt ; had I known your intentions, I
would have interceded for the firfl page, and put it,
with your leave, among my curiofities. In truth, it
is the only inftance of that kind I ever met with, from
a perfon good for any thing elfe, nay for every thing
elfe to which he is pleafed to turn himfelf.
Depend upon it, I mail fee you with great pleafure
at Bromley ; and there is no requeft you can make
to me, that I mail not moft readily comply with. I wifh
you
b A Tragedy written in the Reign of Edward the Sixth (and
much the beft performance of that Age) by Sackvil, afterwards
Earl of Dorfet, and Lord Treafurer to Queen Elizabeth. It
was then very fcarce, but lately reprinted by R. Dodfley in
Pall-mall. P.
c An Heroic Poem, writ at 15 years old. P.
8o LETTERS TO AND
you health and happinefs of all forts, and would be
glad to be inftrumental in any degree towards helping
you to the lead mare of either. I am always, every
where, mod affectionately and faithfully
Your, etc.
LETTER III.
THE BISHOP OF ROCHESTER TO MR. POPE.
Bromley, Nov. 8, 1717.
T HAVE nothing to fay to you on that melancholy
fubjecl:, with an account of which the printed pa-
pers have furnifhed me, but what you have already
faid to yourfelf.
When you have paid the debt of tendernefs you
owe to the memory of a Father, I doubt not but you
will turn your thoughts towards improving that acci-
dent to your own eafe and happinefs. You have it
now in your power, to purfue that method of think-
ing and living which you like beft. Give me leave,
if I am not a little too early in my applications of this
kind, to congratulate you upon it ; and to affufe you
that there is no man living who wifhes you better,
or would be more pleafed to contribute any ways to
your fatisfa&ion or fervice.
I return you your Milton, which, upon collation, I
find to be revifed, and augmented, in feveral places,
as
FROM DR. ATTERBURY. 81
as the title page of my third edition pretends it to be.
When I fee you next, I will (hew you the feveral
paflages altered, and added by the author, befide
what you have mentioned to me.
I proteft to you, this laft perufal of him has given
me fuch new degrees, I will not fay of pleafure, but
of admiration and aftonifliment, that I look upon the
fublimity of Homer, and the majefty of Virgil with
fomewhat lefs reverence than I ufed to do. I chal-
lenge you, with all your partiality, to mew me hi the
nrft of thefe any thing equal to the Allegory of Sin*
and Death, either as to the greatnefs and juftnefs of
the invention, or the height and beauty of the colour-
ing. What I looked upon as a rant of Barrow's t, I
now begin to think a ferious truth, and could almoft
venture to fet my hand to it,
Hsec quicunque legit, tantum cecinifle putabit
Maeoniden Ranas, Virgilium Culices.
But more of this when we meet. When I left the
town
* Though Addifon cenfures the introdu&ion of fuch an allegory