DEAR SIR, LETTER IV. Thursday Morn. You ou may reasonably wonder to have not heard of me so long; but for four or five days I intended to see you in town, and have been prevented by a terrible cold, which yet confines me to my chamber. The first day I can get to you I will; in the mean time I write to tell you I cannot forget you and yours. I hope you and they are well. I just now hear Mr. Gay is come to town. I hope to meet all together about Sunday at farthest, for I have three or four days' business, which is very inconveniently put off by my present indisposition. Mrs. Blount sends you her services, and will be in town on Saturday. Believe no man more affectionately yours. I am your faithful friend and servant. DEAR SIR, YOUR LETTER V. Twitnam, Sept. 17, 1724. OUR friendly and kind letter I received with real joy and gladness, to hear, after a long silence, of the welfare of a whole family which I shall ever unfeignedly wish well to in all regards. I knew not in what part of the land to level a letter at you, or else you had heard first from me. My mother, indeed, is very ill; but as it seems only the effect of a cold, which always handles her old way, this day well, however, and the past and future are not in my power, so not much in my care. Gay is at the Bath with Dr. Arbuthnot. Mrs. Howard returns your services, and Marblehill waits only for its roof,-the rest finished. The little Prince William wants Miss Fortescue, or, to say truth, any body else that will play with him. You say nothing at what time we may expect you here; I wish it soon, and thought you talked of Michaelmas. I am grieved to tell you that there is one Devonshire man not honest; for my man Robert proves a vile fellow, and I have discarded him: auri sacra fames is his crime; a crime common to the greatest and meanest if any way in power, or too much in trust! I am going upon a short ramble to my Lord Oxford's, and Lord Cobham's, for a fortnight, this Michaelmas ; and the hurry I am at present in, with preparing to be idle, (a common case,) makes it difficult for me to continue this letter, though I truly desire to say many things to you. Homer is advanced to the eighth book; I mean printed so far. My gardens improve more than my writings; my head is still more upon Mrs. Hd. and her works, than upon my own. Adieu! God bless you; an ancient and Christian, therefore an unmodish and unusual salutation. I am ever, sincerely and affectionately, yours. LETTER VI. DEAR SIR, Ir this reaches you, I beg we may meet at the doctor's about six to night. I must run again out of town, for my mother is very ill of a jaundice, and I come to speak to the doctor chiefly. I am afraid she will be too ill to let me have the pleasure of seeing you on Sunday, but the first day I can, I will send to beg it of you; being, with great truth and esteem, dear Sir, Ever yours. Two o'clock. I have been everywhere about to find you; about your lodgings, chambers, Dutton's, Merin's, Tom's, Lintot's. Pray try if you can find Gay. LETTER VII. DEAR SIR, Dec. 1735. THIS is only to tell you, I love you not the less for not seeing you more. Ever since we dined in the Park, I have been planting at home, have catched two colds on the neck of one another, but still plant on, being resolved to finish this fine season. My alterations are what you would not conceive. Besides, my shell temple is fallen down; and yet I live! Whether I shall see you the end of the week in town, I know not. I dare not cross the water to lie abroad, with this cold upon me. I hope you are well; I heartily love you, and wish you so. Adieu. before DEAR SIR, LETTER VIII. Thursday. I was one day in town, but could not find you in the evening. I have been ill, but nothing would make me better than the sight of a friend. Several of mine are ill also: I hope you will hold up to comfort me. I must beg you to inform me carefully, and to bid your clerk also mind it, whenever Mr. Roberts comes to town (the person whose annuity Mrs. Blount purchased), that she may have his life insured, which, it seems, cannot be done but when he is present. This is a very material point to her, and she entreats you to give me the first notice. Mr. White told Mr. Bethel he would be in town soon. I must also desire you to let me have a copy from Mr. Cs, of Abbot's account, what monies he paid to Mr. Essington, &c. Next Sunday I am engaged; any other day I am at your service wholly, as I am entirely, dear Sir, and affectionately, your friend. DEAR SIR, LETTER IX. (FROM GAY AND POPE.) Sept. 23, 1725. I AM again returned to Twickenham, upon the news of the person's death you wrote to me about. I cannot say I have any great prospect of success; but the affair remains yet undetermined, and I cannot tell who will be his successor. I know I have sincerely your good wishes upon all occasions. One would think that my friends use me to disappointments, to try how many I could bear; if they do so, they are mistaken; for as I do not expect much, I can never be much disappointed. I am in hopes of seeing you in town the beginning of October, by what you writ to Mr. Pope; and sure your father will think it reasonable that Miss Fortescue should not forget her French and dancing. Dr. Arbuthnot has been at the point of death by a severe fit of illness, an imposthumation in the bowels; it hath broke, and he is now pretty well recovered. I have not seen him since my return from Wiltshire, but intend to go to town the latter end of the week. I have made your compliments to Mrs. Howard this morning: she indeed put me in mind of it, by inquiring after you. Pray make my compliments to your sisters and Mrs. Fortescue; Mr. Pope desires the same. Yours, most affectionately, J.G. "Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed," was the ninth beatitude which a man of wit (who, like a man of wit, was a long time in gaol) added to the eighth ; I have long ago preached this to our friend; I. have preached it, but the world and his other friends held it forth, and exemplified it. They say, |