LETTER XVII.

I AM not at all concerned to think that this letter may be less entertaining than fome I have fent: I know you are a friend that will think a kind letter as good as a diverting one. He that gives you his mirth makes a much less present than he that gives you his heart; and true friends would rather fee fuch thoughts as they communicate only to one another, than what they fquander about to all the world.

They who can

fet a right value upon any thing, will prize one tender, well-meant word, above all that ever made them laugh in their lives. If I did not think so of you, I fo fhould never have taken much pains to endeavour to please you, by writing, or any thing else. Wit, I am fure, I want; at leaft in the degree that I fee others have it, who would at all feafons alike be entertaining; but I would willingly have fome qualities that may be (at fome feasons) of more comfort to myself, and of more fervice to my friends. I would cut off my own head, if it had nothing better than wit in it; and tear out my own heart, if it had no better difpofitions than to love only myself, and laugh at all my neighbours.

I know you will think it an agreeable thing to hear that I have done a great deal of Homer. If it be tolerable, the world may thank you for it: for if I could have feen you every day, and imagined my company could have every day pleafed you, I fhould fcarce have

thought

thought it worth my while to please the world. How many verfes could I gladly have left unfinished, and turned into it, for people to say what they would of, had I been permitted to pass all those hours more pleasingly? Whatever fome may think, Fame is a thing I am much less covetous of than your Friend fhip; for that, I hope, will last all my life; the other I cannot answer for. What if they should both grow greater after my death? alas! they would both be of no advantage to me! Therefore think upon it, and love me as well as ever you can, while I live.

Now I talk of fame, I fend you my Temple of Fame, which is juft come out: but my fentiments about it you will fee better by this Epigram:

What's Fame with Men, by custom of the Nation,
Is call'd in Women only Reputation:

About them both why keep we fuch a pother?
Part you with one, and I'll renounce the other.

LETTER XVIII.

LL the pleasure or ufe of familiar letters, is to

ALL

give us the affurance of a friend's welfare; at leaft 'tis all I know, who am a mortal enemy and defpifer of what they call fine letters. In this view, I promise you, it will always be a fatisfaction to me to write letters and to receive them from you; because I unfeignedly

2

unfeignedly have your good at my heart, and am that
thing, which many people make only a subject to dif-
play their fine fentiments upon, a Friend: which is a
character that admits of little to be faid, till fomething
may be done. Now let me fairly tell you, I don't
like your style: 'tis very pretty, therefore I don't like
it; and if you writ as well as Voiture, I would not
give a farthing for fuch letters, unless I were to fell
them to be printed. Methinks I have loft the Mrs.
L* I formerly knew, who writ and talked like other
people (and fometimes better). You must allow me
to say, you have not said a sensible word in all your
letter, except where you speak of fhewing kindness
and expecting it in return: but the addition
you make
about your being but two and twenty, is again in the
ftyle of wit and abomination. To fhew you how very
unfatisfactorily you write, in
never told me how you do.
folutely neceffary for me to
continued to take more notice of me, for I ought to
tell you what you are to expect; that is to fay, Kind-
nefs, which I never failed (I hope) to return; and
not Wit, which if I want I am not much concerned,
because judgment is a better thing; and if I had, I
would make use of it rather to play upon those I de-
spised, than to trifle with those I loved. You fee, in
fhort, after what manner you may moft agreeably write
to me tell me you are my friend,
no more at a lofs about that article.

all your letters you've

Indeed I fee it was abwrite to you, before you

and you can be As I have opened

my

my mind upon this to you, it may alfo ferve for Mr. H—, who will fee by it what manner of letters he As I am too

must expect if he corresponds with me. feriously yours and his fervant to put turns upon you instead of good wishes, fo in return I would have no. thing but honest plain Howd'ye's and Pray remember 'me's; which not being fit to be shown to any body for wit, may be a proof we correspond only for ourfelves, in mere friendliness; as doth, God is my witnefs,

Your, etc.

IT

LETTER XIX.

T is with infinite fatisfaction I am made acquainted that your brother will at last prove your relation, and has entertained fuch fentiments as became him in

your concern. I have been prepared for this by degrees, having feveral times received from Mrs. that which is one of the greatest pleasures, the knowledge that others entered into my own fentiments concerning you. I ever was of opinion that you wanted no more to be vindicated than to be known. As I have often condoled with you in your adverfities, fo I have a right, which but few can pretend to, of congratulating on the prospect of your better fortunes: and I hope, for the future, to have the concern I have felt for you overpaid

VOL. VII.

overpaid in your felicities. Though you modeftly fay the world has left you, yet, I verily believe, it is coming to you again as fast as it can: for, to give the world its due, it is always very fond of Merit when 'tis past its power to oppose it. Therefore, if you can, take it into favour again upon its repentance, and continue in it. But if you are refolved in revenge to rob the world of fo much example as you may afford it, I believe, your defign will be vain; for even in a monaftery your devotions cannot carry you fo far toward the next world as to make this lofe the fight of you; but you'll be like a ftar, that, while it is fixed to heaven, fhines over all the earth.

Wherefoever Providence fhall dispose of the most valuable thing I know, I fhall ever follow you with my fincerest wishes, and my best thoughts will be perpetually waiting upon you, when you never hear of me nor them. Your own guardian angels cannot be more constant, nor more filent. I beg you will never cease to think me your friend, that you may not be guilty of that which you never yet knew to commit, an injustice. As I have hitherto been fo in spite of the world, fo hereafter, if it be poffible you should ever be more opposed, and more deferted, I fhould only be fo much the more

Your faithful, etc.