himself. It was too late to transfer his confidence or fondness.

In May, 1744, his death was approaching. On the 6th he was all day
delirious, which he mentioned for days afterwards as a sufficient
humiliation of the vanity of man; he afterwards complained of seeing
things as through a curtain, and in false colours, and one day, its
the presence of Dodsley, asked what arm it was that came from the
wall. He said that his greatest inconvenience was inability to
think. Bolingbroke sometimes wept over him in this state of
helpless decay; and being told by Spence, that Pope, at the
intermission of his deliriousness, was always saying something kind
either of his present or absent friends, and that his humanity
seemed to have survived his understanding, answered, "It has so."
And added, "I never in my life knew a man that had so tender a heart
for his particular friends, or more general friendship for mankind."
At another time he said, "I have known Pope these thirty years, and
value myself more in his friendship than--" His grief then
suppressed his voice.

Pope expressed undoubting confidence of a future state. Being asked
by his friend Mr. Hooke, a papist, whether he would not die like his
father and mother, and whether a priest should not be called, he
answered, "I do not think it essential, but it will be very right;
and I thank you for putting me in mind of it." In the morning,
after the priest had given him the last sacraments, he said "There
is nothing that is meritorious but virtue and friendship; and indeed
friendship itself is only a part of virtue." He died in the evening
of the 30th day of May 1744, so placidly, that the attendants did
not discern the exact time of his expiration. He was buried at
Twickenham, near his father and mother, where a monument has been