LETTER IX.

Aug. 19, 1709.

IF 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 fhould indifpenfably receive from mankind, in return for those many it gives. I have been inform'd of late, how much I am indebted to that quality of yours, in fpeaking well of me in my abfence; the only thing by which you prove yourself no wit nor critic; tho' indeed I have often thought, that a friend will show 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 muft own, that where I receiv'd fo much civility at firft, I could hardly have expected so much fincerity afterwards. But now I have only to wish, that the laft 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 Coffeehoufe, and bidding adieu for fome time to all the Rehearsals, Reviews, Gazettes, etc. have march'd off into Lincolnfhire. Thus I find you vary your life in the fcene at leaft, tho' not in the action; for tho' life for the most part, like an old play, be ftill the fame, yet now and then a new fcene may make it more entertaining. As for myself, 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 a true modern play, neither tragedy, comedy, nor farce, nor one, nor all of thefe; every actor is much better known by his having the fame face, than

* Tolerable farce, in the Author's own Edit, a God's name omitted there.

by

by keeping the fame character: for we change our minds as often as they can their parts, and he who was yefterday Cæfar, is to-day Sir John Daw. So that one might afk the fame queftion of a modern life, that Rich did of a modern play, "Pray do me the favour, Sir, to inform "me, Is this your Tragedy or your Comedy !"

I have dwelt the longer upon this, because I perfuade myfelf it might be useful, at a time when we have no theatre, to divert ourselves at this great one. Here is a glorious standing comedy of Fools, at which every man is heartily merry, and thinks himself an unconcern'd fpectator. This (to our fingular comfort) neither my Lord Chamberlain, nor the Queen herfelf, can ever fhut up, or filence. While that of Drury (alas !) lies defolate, in the profoundest peace: and the melancholy profpe& of the nymphs yet lingering about its beloved avenues, appears no less moving than that of the Trojan dames lamenting over their ruin'd Ilium! What now can they hope, difpoffefs'd of their ancient feats, but to ferve as captives to the infulting victors of the Hay-market? The afflicted fubjects of France do not, in our Poftman, fogrievously deplore the obftinacy of their arbitrary monarch, as thefe perishing people of Drury, the obdurate heart of that Pharoah, Rich, who, like him, difdains all propofals of peace and accommodation. Several libels have been fecretly affixed to the great gates of his imperial palace in Bridges-ftreet: and a memorial, reprefenting the diftreffes of thefe perfons, has been accidentally dropt (as we are credibly informed by a perfon of quality) out of his first minifter the chief box-keeper's pocket, at a late conference of the faid perfon of quality and others, on the part of the Confederates, and his Theatrical Majefty on his own part. Of this you may expe& a copy, as foon as it fhall be tranfmitted to us from a good hand. As for the late Congrefs, it is here reported, that it has not been wholly ineffectual; but this wants confirma*What follows to the end of this Letter, is omitted in the Author's own dit.

and

tion; yet we cannot but hope the concurring prayers tears of fo many wretched ladies may induce this haughty prince to reason. I am, etc.

LETTER X.

Oct. 19, 1709.

1

May truly fay I am more obliged to you this fummer than to any of my acquaintance, for had it not been for the two kind letters you fent me, I had been perfectly oblitufque meorum, oblivifcendus et illis. The only companions I had were those Muses of whom Tully fays, Adolefcentiam alunt, fenectutem oblectant, fecundas res ornant, adverfis perfugium ac folatium praebent, delectant domi, non impediunt foris, pernoctant nobifcum, peregrinantur, rufticantur : which is indeed as much as ever I expected from them: For the Mufes, if you take them as companions, are very pleasant and agreeable; but whoever fhould be forced to live or depend upon 'em, would find himself in a very bad condition. That Quiet, which Cowley calls the Companion of Obfcurity, was not wanting to me, unlefs it was interrupted by those fears you so juftly guess I had for our friend's welfare. 'Tis extremely kind in you to tell me the news you heard of him, and you have delivered me from more anxiety than he imagines me capable of on his account, as I am convinced by his long filence. However, the love of fome things rewards itfelf, as of virtue, and Mr. Wycherley. I am surprised at the danger, you tell me he has been in, and must agree with you, that our nation must have loft in him, as much wit and probity, as would have remain'd (for ought I know) in the rest of it. My concern for his friendship will excufe me (fince I know you honour him fo much, and fince you know I love him above all men) if I vent a part of my uneafinefs to you, and tell you that there has not been wanting one, to infinuate malicious untruths of me to Mr. Wycherley, which, I fear,

may

may have had fome effect upon him. If fo, he will have a greater punishment for his credulity than I could wish him, in that fellow's acquaintance. The lofs of a faithful creature is fomething, though of ever fo contemptible an one; and if I were to change my dog for fuch a man as the aforefaid, I fhould think my dog undervalued: (who follows me about as conftantly here in the country, as I was used to do Mr. Wycherley in the town.)

Now I talk of my dog, that I may not treat of a worse fubject, which my fpleen tempts me to, I will give you fome account of him; a thing not wholly unprecedented, fince Montaigne (to whom I am but a dog in comparison) has done the fame thing of his Cat. Dic mihi quid melius defidiofus agam? You are to know then, that as 'tis likenefs begets affection, fo my favourite dog is a little one, a lean one, and none of the fineft fhap'd. He is not much a spaniel in his fawning, but has (what might be worth any man's while to imitate him in) a dumb furly fort of kindness, that rather fhews itself when he thinks me ill us'd by others, than when we walk quietly and peaceably by ourselves. If it be the chief point of friendfhip to comply with a friend's motions and inclinations, he poffeffes this in an eminent degree; he lies down when I fit, and walks when I walk, which is more than many good friends can pretend to, witness our walk a year ago in St. James's Park.-Hiftories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends, but I will not infift upon many of them, because it is poffible fome may be almoft as fabulous as thofe of Pylades and Oreftes, etc. I will only fay for the honour of dogs, that the two most antient and esteemable books, facred and prophane, extant, (viz. the Scripture and Homer) have fhewn a particular regard to these animals. That of Toby is the more remarkable, because there feem'd no manner of reason to take notice of the dog, befides the great humanity of the author. Homer's account of Ulyffes's dog Argus is the moft pathetic imaginable, all the circumftances confider'd, and an excellent proof of the old bard's good nature. Ulyffes

Ulyffes had left him at Ithaca when he embarked for Troy, and found him at his return after twenty years (which by the way is not unnatural, as fome critics have faid, fince I remember the dam of my dog was twentytwo years old when fhe dy'd: May the omen of longvity prove fortunate to her fucceffors.) You fhall have it in verfe.

ARGUS.

When wife Ulyffes, from his native coaft

Long kept by wars, and long by tempefts toft,
Arriv'd at laft, poor, old, difguis'd, alone,
To all his friends, and ev'n his Queen unknown;
Chang'd as he was, with age, and toils, and cares,
Furrow'd his rev'rend face, and white his hairs,
In his own palace forc'd to ask his bread,
Scorn'd by thofe flaves his former bounty fed,
Forgot of all his own domeftic crew;

The faithful dog alone his rightful mafter knew!
Unfed, unhous'd, neglected, on the clay,
Like an old fervant now cashier'd he lay ;
Touch'd with refentment of ungrateful man,
And longing to behold his antient Lord again,
Him when he faw-he rofe, and crawl'd to meet,
('Twas all he cou'd) and fawn'd, and kifs'd his feet,
Sciz'd with dumb joy-then falling by his fide,
Own'd his returning Lord, look'd up, and died!

Plutarch, relating how the Athenians were obliged to abandon Athens in the time of Themiftocles, fteps back again out of the way of his hiftory, purely to describe the lamentable cries and howlings of the poor dogs they left behind. He makes mention of one, that follow'd his mafter across the fea to Salamis, where he dy'd, and was honour'd with a tomb by the Athenians, who gave the name of the Dog's Grave to that part of the island where he was buried. This refpect to a dog in the most polite people of the world, is very obfervable. A modern inftance of gratitude to a dog (tho' we have but few

fuch)