BISHOP GIBSON.

I wish, my dear

Lord, I could give you as favourable an account of my health, as your kindness calls for. The intense cold of this season has, indeed, been too much for me; and though your junior in years, I feel myself your senior in age and infirmity; but why name age and infirmity to you, who have so little claim to commiseration on that score?

BISHOP HOUGH. Blessed be God for his great mercies to me! I have to-day entered into my ninetieth year, with less of infirmity than I could have presumed to hope, and certainly with a degree of calmness and tranquillity of mind, which is gradually increasing, as I daily approach the end of my pilgrimage. I think indeed that my life must now be

but of short duration; and I thank God, the thought gives me no uneasiness.

BISHOP GIBSON. If you, Bishop of Worcester, were uneasy on this subject, what must be the feelings of others? But in good sooth, you are so hale and strong, that I think, after all, I shall give you the go-bye, and precede you.

BISHOP HOUGH. Nay, my friend! whatever may be said in favour of it, old age is a losing game. Months now count to me more than years did formerly; and your Lordship has above twenty years to pass, before you arrive at my number. You have a good natural constitution; but pardon me, if, as your friend, I complain of your having made too severe a trial of its strength.

Your laborious publications on the errors of Popery, at the same time that they have been universally approved, have occasioned much anxiety in the minds of your friends, who tremble for the effect of such continued exertions. It is our duty to employ our talents for the good of others: and how can we better shew our gratitude for the comforts and advantages, which it has pleased GOD to bestow on us? But it is also a duty to ascertain what our strength will bear. Excess of labour will exhaust the greatest intellectual powers, and the best natural

constitution.

BISHOP GIBSON. I admit that sometimes I bave attempted too much.-In this respect I have often had cause, my dear friend, to admire the serenity of

you

mind which period of life, and with which you now bear the inconveniences and infirmities of age; so that, instead of hearing complaints, we see nothing but ease and cheerfulness. Let me be your pupil, Bishop of Worcester: trust me with your secret, and shew me how the last act of life may be filled with propriety and satisfaction;

have exhibited in every

fontes ut adire remotos,

Atque haurire queam vitæ præcepta beatæ.

But, in my pleasure at seeing you, I forgot to announce an unexpected visitor in Mr. Lyttelton.

BISHOP HOUGH. What! Is he come, after his campaign at St. Stephen's, to

recruit his forces, and enjoy quiet with Sir Thomas, at Hagley ?

BISHOP GIBSON. Even so; and though not arrived at a period to put your precepts in practice-yet with his peculiar turn of mind, he will be highly gratified to learn, how it is that a heavy load of years, so much complained of by others, should sit so lightly upon you. But here he comes; let him speak for himself.

Mr. LYTTELTON. Health and happiness to both your Lordships.

BISHOP HOUGH.

Accept my wish,

dear Mr. Lyttelton, of multos et felices. He who devotes his life to the service of the public, merits that his years should