Once more I commit myself to your censure, and am, sir, with great respect, your most affectionate humble servant,
TO THE EARL OF OXFORD.
ALTHOUGH I had, for two years past, inured myself to expect the death of my lord your father, from the frequent accounts, of the bad condition of his health; yet the news of it struck me so sensibly, that I had not spirit enough to condole with your lordship, as I ought to have done, for so great a loss to the world and yourself. It is true, indeed, you no longer wanted his care and tenderness, nor his example to incite you to virtue: but his friendship and conversation you will ever want, because they are qualities so rare in the world, and in which he so much excelled all others. It has pleased me, in the midst of my grief, to hear that he preserved the greatness, and calmness, and intrepidity of his mind, to his last minutes: for it was fit that such a life should terminate with equal lustre to the whole progress of it.
I must now beg leave to apply to your lordship's justice. He was often pleased to promise me his picture; but his troubles and sickness, and want of opportunity, and my absence, prevented him. I do therefore humbly insist, that your lordship will
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