I find myself in such a strange confusion and depression of spirits that I have not strength enough even to make my will, though I perceive by many warnings I have no continuing city here.
I begin to look upon myself as one already dead, and desire, my dear Mr.
Pope, whom I love as my own soul, if you survive me, as you certainly will, that you will, if a stone should mark the place of my grave, see these words put upon it:-- Life is a jest, and all things show it, I thought so once, but now I know it, with what more you may think proper.

If anyone should ask how I could communicate this after death, let it be known, it is not meant so, but my present sentiment in life.

What the bearer brings besides this letter, should I die without a will, which I am the likelier to do, as the law will settle my small estate much as I should do so myself, let it remain with you, as it has long done with me, the remembrance of a dead friend; but there is none like you, living or dead." Both Swift and Pope remained faithful to Gay, and in their correspondence there are many allusions to him.

"Mr.Gay," wrote Swift to Pope, "is a scandal to all lusty young fellows with healthy countenances; and, I think, he is not intemperate in a physical sense.

I am told he has an asthma, which is a disease I commiserate more than deafness, because it will not leave a man quiet either sleeping or waking."[1] JOHN GAY TO DEAN SWIFT.
From the Duke of Queensberry's, Burlington Gardens.
March 18th, 1729.
"I am but just recovered from the severest fit of sickness that ever anybody had who escaped death.