While, and I thought I already faw you; and now I am presently fallen into the Desperation of I know not when. The Small-Pox, which generally frightens away every Thing that's agreeable, has made it impoffible for me to fee you as yet-The laft Sentence feems a Compliment to myself; but as I am too lazy to alter it, I beg you would think with me, and interpret every Thing I fay in your own. Favour. But thus the Devil will have it ; the Small-Pox is all over Oxford, in every Part of the Town, in most of the Colleges to my Knowledge, and is lately broke out in Pembroke. If it had not been for this last Article, I could gladly have confined myself within the Compass of thofe Walls with you; but as it is, I am forced, like good Men, to fubmit for a While to human Miferies, and comfort myself with the Thought of my Heayen, though at a Distance; like them too, I have this Satisfaction, that in the mean Time neither the base Moth, or Ruft of the World, can corrupt that Part of you in which my Pleasure is fituated, Į have I have a very bad Piece of News to tell you; Mr. G- lies dangerously ill at London of a Fever: I am informed his Life is despaired of-I am now in the utmost Concern at it. This Letter is a mere Medley: difagreeable to myself, I don't propofe it to be agreeable to you. I only wrote it, to tell you what you must know, and if you can understand it, it is very well. I am not only in the lowest Spirits, but they are alfo very much confused. I will not now moralize; but this I am fure, we shall both dearly mifs Mr. G. When I hear more, you shall know more. It is now one o'clock in the Morning, and, as I told you, I wrote this out of Neceffity. I cannot be in Oxford, though I long to fee you. If poor Mr. G-fhould die, pray be still more kind to me. I am fure, I fhall then find a Vacancy in my Breaft, which you alone can fill up to my Satisfaction. Adieu, dear Mr. SHENSTONE! A. WHISTLER. Pray write. I re D 4 I received a Letter from you just after I sent you my laft, and my Thoughs are at present too confused to answer your last particularly, nor, indeed, will my Time allow it, Only I heartily thank you for it. YOUR upbraided me with Negligence, Ingratitude and Stupidity. To the last Part of the Accufation, I plead guilty; for I think I never found myself more ftupid than I have been for this Month paft, and what I write now, proceeds, not from any Flow of Fancy, but merely from Refpect and Efteem. I have been been very much taken up of late, by our Family being at Home: but that Excufe I lay no Stress upon; for I fhall never let any, either Business or Pleasure hurry you from my Thoughts. Ill Health can be my only just Apology; and though I cannot fay I have been fick, I can affure you, I have not been well for fome Time past. Put my Condition in the best Light, I am very much in the Vapours, and fo much, as that you or Mr. GRAVES alone can cure me : a Letter from you will go a great deal towards it; though I long for one, I can hardly go on with this Letter, which is the Means to procure it; like one finking into a fainting Fit, who can't collect Strength of Mind or Body, to reach fo much as the Hartfhorn to his Nofe, which stands at his Elbow. I fhall be at Oxford in a fhort Time, and spend as many Days there as I can pass agreeably, and then take my Leave of it. If the Town be healthy, I fhall go to London the Beginning of the Winter, and ftay there just as long as it fmiles on me. But all Things feem to frown in the Absence of my Friends, and I wish I don't think the Smiles of the Town impertinent without them. I wish I could be fometimes pleased with lefs than you, without I could have you always. Pray write foon, and raise my Spirits, for I really am forced now to conclude for Want of them, Dear Sir, yours, &c. &c. A. WHISTLER. Sérvice to Mr. D. I fincerely hope he is well. LETTER XIII. Mr. WHISTLER to W. SHENSTONE, Efq. Dear Sir, F you remember, in your last Letter but IF one, you advised me to read. Hiftory: accordingly, as I am always proud to follow your Advice, I pitched upon BURNET's Hiftory of |