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LETTER XI.

Mr. GRAY to Dr. WHARTON.

Cambridge, August 8, 1749.

Promised Dr. Keene long fince to give you an ac

count of our magnificences here *; but the news papers and he himself in perfon, have got the ftart of my indolence, fo that by this time you are well acquainted with all the events that adorned that week of wonders. Thus much I may venture to tell you, because it is probable nobody else has done it, that our friend's zeal and eloquence furpaffed all power of description. Vefuvio in an eruption was not more violent than his utterance, nor (fince I am at my mountains) Pelion, with all its pine-trees in a storm of wind, more impetuous than his action; and yet the SenateHoufe ftill ftands, and (I thank God) we are all safe and well at your fervice. I was ready to fink for him, and scarce dared to look about me, when I was fure it was all over; but foon found I might have fpared my confufion; all people joined to applaud him. Every thing

NOT E.

+ The Duke of Newcastle's Installation as Chancellor of

the University.

thing was quite right; and I dare fware not three people here but think him a model of oratory; for all the Duke's little court came with a refolution to be pleased; and when the tone was once given, the university, who ever wait for the judgment of their betters, ftruck into it with an admirable harmony: for the reft of the performances, they were just what they ufually are. Every one, while it lasted, was very gay and very busy in the morning, and very owlish and very tipsy at night: Į make no exceptions from the Chancellor to Blue-coat. Mafon's Ode was the only entertainment that had any tolerable elegance; and, for my own part, I think it (with fome little abatements) uncommonly well on such an occafion. Pray let me know your fentiments; for doubtless you have seen it. The author of it grows apace into my good graces, as I know him more; he is very ingenious, with great good-nature and simplicity; a little vain, but in fo harmless and fo comical a way, that it does not offend one at all; a little ambitious, but withal fo ignorant in the world and its ways, that this does not hurt him in one's opinion; so fincere and fo undisguised, that no mind, with a spark of generofity, would ever think of hurting him, he lies fo open to injury; but fo indolent, that if he cannot overcome this habit, all his good qualities will fignify no

thing

thing at all. After all, I like him fo well, I could wish you knew him.

LETTER

XII.

Mr. GRAY to his MOTHER.

Cambridge, Nov. 7, 1749.

HE unhappy news I have juft received from you

THE

I have from you

equally furprizes and afflicts me *. I have loft a perfon I loved very much, and have been used to from my infancy; but am much more concerned for your lofs, the circumftances of which I forbear to dwell upon, as you must be too fenfible of them yourself; and will, I fear, more and more need a confolation that no one can give, except He who has preserved her to you fo many years, and at laft, when it was his pleasure, has taken her from us to himself: and perhaps,

NO T E.

*The death of his aunt, Mrs. Mary Antrobus, who died the 5th of November, and was buried in a vault in Stoke church-yard near the chancel door, in which alfo his mother and himself (according to the direction in his will) were afterwards buried.

haps, if we reflect upon what fhe felt in this life, we may look upon this as an inftance of his goodness both to her, and to thofe that loved her. She might have languished many years before our eyes in a continual increase of pain, and totally helpless; fhe might have long wished to end her mifery without being able to attain it; or perhaps even loft all fenfe, and yet continued to breathe; a fad fpectacle to such as must have felt more for her than fhe could have done for herself. However you may deplore your own loss, yet think that the is at last easy and happy; and has now more occafion to pity us than we her. I hope, and beg, you will fupport yourself with that resignation we owe to him, who gave us our being for our good, and who deprives us of it for the fame reason. I would have come to you directly, but you do not say whether you defire I fhould or not; if you do, I beg I may know it, for there is nothing to hinder me, and I am in very good health.

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18

LETTER

XIII.

Mr. GRAY to Dr. WHARTON,

A

Stoke, August 9, 1750.

RISTOTLE fays (one may write Greek to you

without fcandal) that Οἱ τοποι οὐ διαλύουσι της Φιλίαν ἁπλῶς, ἀλλὰ τὴν ἐνέργειαν· ἐὰν δὲ χρόνιος ἡ ἀπουσία γίνηται καὶ τῆς Φιλίας δοκεῖ λὴθὴν ποιεῖν. ὅθεν είρηται

Πολλὰς δὴ Φιλίας ἀπροσηγορία διέλυσεν.

you,

But Ariftotle may fay whatever he pleases, I do not find
myself at all the worfe for it. I could indeed wish to re-
fresh my 'Evégy a little at Durham by the fight of
but when is there a probability of my being so happy? It
concerned me greatly when I heard the other day that
asthma continued at times to afflict you, and that
your
you were often obliged to go into the country to
breathe; you cannot oblige me more than by giving
me an account both of the ftate of your body and
mind: I hope the latter is able to keep you chearful and
eafy in fpite of the frailties of its companion. As to
my own, it can neither do one nor the other; and I
have the mortification to find my spiritual part the most
infirm thing about me. You have doubtless heard of

the

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