give me concerning them. I am here fo perfectly at leifure, that nothing would be fo agreeable an entertainment to me; but if you will not afford me that, do not deny me at least the fatisfaction of your letters as long as we are abfent, if you would 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 continued in my paffion for a rural life, and in the fame employments of it. Happy the man, whose wish and care Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whofe herds with milk, whofe fields with bread, Whose flocks fupply him with attire, Whose trees in fummer yield him fhade, In winter, fire. Bleft, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and flide foft away, years In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day. Sound Sound fleep by night; ftudy and ease, Thus, let me live, unfeen, unknown, Tell where I lie. IF LETTER IX. Aug. 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 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 present. To be very frank with you, Sir, I must own, that where I receiv'd so 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 speculative angle in the Widow's Coffee-house, and biding 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 scene at least, tho' not in the action; for tho' life for the most part, like an old play, be still the fame, yet now and then a new scene may make it more entertaining. As for myself, I would not have my life a very regular play, let it be a 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 these; every actor is much better known by his having the fame face, than by keeping the fame character: for we change our minds as often as they can their a Tolerable farce, in the Author's own Edit. a God's name omitted there. P. parts, parts, and he who was yesterday Cæfar, is to day Sir John Daw. So that one might ask the fame question 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 myself 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 herself can ever fhut up, or filence.--- a While that of Drury (alas !) lies defolate, in the profoundest peace and the melancholy profpect of the nymphs yet lingering about its beloved avenues, appears no lefs 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 subjects of France do not, in our Postman, fo grievously deplore the obftinacy of their arbitrary monarch, as these perishing people of Drury, the obdurate heart of that Pharoah, a What follows to the end of this Letter, is omitted in the Author's own Edit. 3 P. Rich, Rich, who, like him, difdains all proposals of peace and accommodation. Several libels have been secretly affixed to the great gates of his imperial palace in Bridges-ftreet; and a memorial, representing the diftreffes of these 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 person of quality and others, on the part of the Confederates, and his Theatrical Majesty on his own part. Of this you may expect a copy, as foon as it shall be tranfmitted to us from a good hand. As for the late Congress, it is here reported, that it has not been wholly ineffectual; but this wants confirmation; yet we cannot but hope the concurring prayers and tears of so many wretched ladies induce this haughty prince to reason. may I am, &c. LETTER X. Oct. 19, 1709. I I 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 oblituf |