yet my heart bore witness, how far I had been from intending it.

I have been extremely ill, the whole summer, and for some weeks I was believed to be in great danger; but, by the blessing of God upon Dr. Shaw's prescriptions, I am at present, though lean and ill-favoured, much better. I am still obliged to be carried up and down stairs, for want of strength and breath to carry myself: but I have great reason to bless God for the ease I now enjoy. When we come to the last broken arches of Mirza's bridge, rest from pain must bound our ambition, for pleasure we cannot expect in this world: where I have no more a notion of laying schemes, to be executed six months, than I have six years hence; which, I believe, helps to keep my spirits in an even state of cheerfulness, to enjoy the satisfactions that present themselves, without anxious solicitude about their duration. We have lived to an age that necessarily shows us the earth crumbling under our feet; and, as our journey seems approaching towards the verge of life, is it not more natural to cast our eyes to the prospect beyond it, than, by a retrospective view, to recall the troublesome trifles that made our road difficult or dangerous?

I have spent the last three weeks very agreeably. The first of them the bishop of Oxford and Mrs. Talbot passed with us; and when they went away, they had the goodness to leave miss Talbot, whose character I think you must have heard. She is all that the world has said of her, as to an uncommon share of understanding: but she has other charms, which I imagine you will join with me in giving the preference even to that; a mild and equal temper, an unaffectedly pious heart, and a universal good will to her fellow-creatures. She censures nobody; she despises nobody; and, whilst her own

life is a pattern of goodness, she does not exclaim with bitterness against vice. We spend a good deal of the day in our own rooms; but our time is much broken in upon. Soon after nine we meet in the chapel; when prayers are over, we go to breakfast, after that we work, whilst Mr. Cowslad, or my chaplain, reads aloud. At eleven we go, if the weather is tolerable, to take the air for two hours at least, which Dr. Shaw insists upon my doing. The moment we get out of the coach, we see no more of one another till three, when the dinner is punctually upon the table. We retire at five. At eight, we go to prayers; after which we adjourn into the little library, where we work till supper, and the gentlemen read to us, as in the morning; and it is a rule to be all in our rooms a quarter before eleven.

It is now more than time to return you thanks for the trouble you have taken in conveying to me Mr. Shenstone's poem. I have written to him by this post. I could not write sooner, because his letter was only dated Leasowes; and I could not find out his post-town, without sending to Mrs. Stanley, whom I do not visit, and who lives twelve miles from me. I have expressed my gratitude in the best manner I am able; but I am under the necessity of declining the honour which he intended. me. I have begged him to fill up the blanks with stars, or what he pleases, when ever my name, or that of Piercy Lodge, was designed; and I hope he will oblige me. I am, dear madam,

Your most obliged and obedient servant,

Frances Somerset.

H 5

CHAPTER VII.

Letters to and from dr. warBURTON, BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER.

LETTER I.

Dr. Warburton to Dr. Doddridge.

Dear sir,

February 14, 1743.

not

I should not have been so long in making my best acknowledgments for your last kind letter, had my absence from home, and a late unhappy domestic affair, prevented me, and engrossed all my thoughts,the misfortunes of an excellent sister and her children, by her husband's ill success in trade, though attended to with the utmost honesty and sobriety. He has been a considerable benefactor to the public; and his creditors are at last no losers, but he himself is undone. I do not know whether this is an alleviation, or an aggravation, of the misfortune. But I can tell you with the utmost truth, that I share with this distressed sister and her children (who all live with me) the small revenue it has pleased God to bless me with; and this I do with much greater satisfaction than others spend theirs on their pleasures, I can assure you my chief concern on this occasion, was for an incomparable mother, whom I feared the misfortunes of a favourite daughter would too much affect. But, I thank God, religion, that religion of which you make so amiable drawings in all your works, was more than a support to her.-This is a subject I never choose to talk of; yet I could not forbear mentioning it to a man whom I much esteem, and whose heart I know to be right.

It was with great concern I found Mrs. Doddridge so ill at Bath. I know the grief this must have occasioned you. But I know your sufficiency. I trust in God she has by this time received the expected benefit from the waters. It was by accident that I saw her name in Leake's book, (for then I had not received your last letter,) a little before I left Mr. Allen's. I visited her twice. The first time, she was going out to drink the waters; the second time, a visiting: so I had not the pleasure of much of her company. You may be assured, I would not hinder her the first time; and I made a conscience not to do it the second: for it was a new acquaintance she was going to make; a matter perhaps as useful to her amusement, while she stayed at Bath, as the other for her health.

Thus you see, my good friend, we have all something to make us think less complacently of the world. Religion will do great things. It will always make the bitter waters of Marah wholesome and palatable. But we must not think it will usually turn water to wine, because it once did so. Nor is it fit it should, unless this were our place of rest. I do the best I can, and I should, I think, do the same, if I were a mere pagan, to make life passable. To be always lamenting the miseries of it, or always seeking after the pleasures of it, equally takes us off from the work of our salvation. And though I am extremely cautious what sect I follow in religion, yet any in philosophy will serve my turn, and honest Sancho Panca's is as good as any; who, on his return from an important commission, when asked by his master whether they should mark the day with a black or a white stone, replied: "Sir, if you will be ruled by me, with neither; but with good brown ochre.” What this philosopher thought of his commission, I

think of human life in general; good brown ochre is the complexion of it.

I returned home a little before Christmas, after a charming philosophical retirement, for two or three months, in a palace, with Mr. Pope and Mr. Allen. The gentleman whom I mentioned last, is, I verily believe, the greatest private character that ever appeared in any age of the world. You see his munificence to the Bath Hospital. This is but a small part of his charities; and charity but a small part of his virtues. I have studied his character even maliciously, to find where his weakness lies; but I have studied in vain. When I know it, the world shall know it too, for the consolation of the envious; especially as I suspect it will prove to be only a partiality which he has entertained for me. In a word, I firmly believe him to have been sent by Providence into the world, to teach men what blessings they may expect from Heaven, would they study to deserve them *.

*Mr. Allen rose to great consideration by farming the cross posts; which, very much to the public advantage, as well as his own, he put into the admirable order in which we now find them. He was of so generous a nature, that his mind enlarged with his fortune; and the wealth which he thus honourably acquired, he spent in a splendid hospitality, and in the most extensive charities. His house, in so public a scenc as that of Bath, was open to nien of rank and worth, and especially to men of distinguished parts and learning; whom he honoured and encouraged, and whose respective merits he was enabled to appreciate, by a natural discernment and superior good sense, rather than by any acquired use and knowledge of letters. His domestic virtues were above all praise. With these qualities, he drew to himself universal respect; and possessed, in a high degree, the esteem of Mr. Pope, who, in the following lines, has done justice to his modest and amiable character.

"Let humble Allen, with an awkard shame,

Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame."