'Seven years, my Lord, have now past, since I waited in your outward
rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been
pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to
complain, and have brought it, at last, to the verge of publication,
without one act of assistance[768], one word of encouragement, or one
smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a
Patron before.

'The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found him
a native of the rocks.

'Is not a Patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man
struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground,
encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to take
of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed
till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, and
cannot impart it[769]; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is
no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has
been received, or to be unwilling that the Publick should consider me as
owing that to a Patron, which Providence has enabled me to do for
myself.

[Page 263: His high opinion of Warburton. AEtat 45.]

'Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any
favourer of learning[770], I shall not be disappointed though I should
conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long
wakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself with so
much exultation.