other is, the juftice you do me, in taking what I writ to you, in the ferious manner it was meant; it is the point upon which I can bear no fufpicion, and in which, above all, I defire to be thought ferious. It would be vexatious indeed, if you fhould pretend to take that for wit, which is no more than the natural overflowing of a heart improved by an esteem for you: but fince you tell me you believe fancy my expreffions have not been entirely unfaithful to my thoughts. me, I May your faith be increased in all truths, that are as great as this; and, depend upon it, to whatever degree it may extend, you can never be a bigot. If you could fee the heart I talk of, you would really think it a foolish good kind of thing, with fome qualities as well deferving to be half-laughed at and half-esteemed, as moft hearts in the world. Its grand foible in regard to you, is the most like Reason of any foible in nature. Upon my word this heart is not like a great warehouse, stored only with my own goods, or with empty spaces to be fupplied as faft as Intereft or Ambition can fill them: but is every inch of it let out into lodgings for its friends, and shall never want a corner where your idea will always lie as warm, and as clofe, as any idea in 'Chriftendom. If this diftance (as you are so kind as to fay) enlarges your belief of my friendship, I affure you, it has fo extended my notion of your value, that I begin to be impious upon that account, and to wish 5 that even flaughter, ruin, and defolation may interpofe between you and the place you defign for; and that you were restored to us at the expence of a whole people. Is there no expedient to return you in peace to the bofom of your country?. I hear you are come as far as: do you only look back to die twice? is Eurydice once more fnatched to the fhades? If ever mortal had reafon to hate the King, it is I, whofe particular misfortune it is, to be almost the only innocent perfon he has made to fuffer: both by his Government at home, and his Negotiations abroad. If you must go from us, I wish at least you might pass to your banishment by the most pleasant way; that all the road might be rofes and myrtles, and a thoufand objects rife round you, agreeable enough to make England lefs defirable to you. It is not now my intereft to wifh England agreeable: It is highly probable it may ufe me ill enough to drive me from it. Can I think that place my country, where I cannot now call a foot of paternal Earth my own? Yet it may feem fome alleviation, that when the wifeft thing I can do is to leave my country, what was most agreeable in it should first be fnatched away from it. and I could overtake you with pleasure in make that tour in your company. Every reasonable entertainment and beautiful view would be doubly engaging when you partook of it. I hould at leaft attend you to the fea coafts, and caft a look after the fails that tranfported you. But perhaps I might care as little to stay behind you; and be full as uneafy to live in a country where I faw others perfecuted by the rogues of my own religion, as where I was perfecuted myself by the rogues of yours. And it is not impoffible I might run into Afia in fearch of liberty; for who would not rather live a freeman among a nation of flaves, than a flave among a nation of freemen? In good earneft, if I knew your motions, and your exact time; I verily think, I fhould be once happy in a fight of you next spring. I'll conclude with a wish, God fend or me with you. LETTER XXII. you with us, YOU will find me more troublesome than ever You in more places than one, and often refresh your memory before you arrive at your Philippi. These fhadows of me (my letters) will be haunting you from time to time, and putting you in mind of the man who has really fuffered very much from you, and whom you have robb'd of the most valuable of his enjoyments, your converfation. The advantage of hearing your fentiments by discovering mine, was what I always thought a great one, and even worth the rifque I generally run of manifefting my own indifcretion. You then rewarded my truft in you the VOL. VIII. N moment it was given, for you pleas'd or inform'd me the minute you anfwer'd. I must now be contented with more flow returns. However, 'tis fome pleasure, that your thoughts upon paper will be a more lafting poffeffion to me, and that I fhall no longer have caufe to complain of a lofs I have fo often regretted, that of any thing you faid, which I happen'd to forget. In earneft, Madam, if I were to write to you as often as I think of you, it must be every day of my life. I attend you in fpirit thro' all your ways, I follow you through every stage in books of travels, and fear for you thro' whole folio's; you make me shrink at the past dangers of dead travellers; and if I read of a delightful profpect, or agreeable place, I hope it yet fubfifts to please you. enquire the roads, the amusements, the company, of every town and country thro' which you pass, with as much diligence, as if I were to set out next week to overtake you. In a word, no one can have you more constantly in mind, not even your Guardian angel (if you have one) and I am willing to indulge fo much Popery as to fancy fome Being takes care of you, who knows your value better than you . do yourself: I am willing to think that heaven never gave so much felf-neglect and refolution to a woman, to occafion her calamity; but am pious enough to believe thofe qualities must be intended to conduce to her benefit and her glory. Your firft fhort letter only ferves to fhew me you are alive it puts me in mind of the first dove that return'd to Noah, and juft made him know it had found no reft abroad. There is nothing in it that pleases me, but when you tell me you had no fea-fickness. I beg your next may give me all the pleasure it can, that is, tell me any that you receive. You can make no difcoveries that will be half fo valuable to me as those of your own mind. Nothing that regards the states or kingdoms you pafs thro', will engage fo much of my curiofity or concern, as what relates to yourfelf: Your welfare, to say truth, is more at my heart than that of Christendom. I am fure I may defend the truth, tho' perhaps not the virtue of this declaration. One is ignorant, or doubtful at beft, of the merits of differing religions and governments: but private virtues one can be fure of. I therefore know what particular Person has defert enough to merit being happier than others, but not what Nation deferves to conquer or opprefs another. You will fay, I am not public spirited; let it be fo, I may have too many tendernesses, particular regards, or narrow views: but at the fame time I am certain that whoever wants thefe, can never have a Public spirit: for (as a friend of mine fays) how is it poffible for that man to love twenty thoufand people, who never loved one? I communicated your letter to Mr. C, he thinks of you and talks of you as he ought, I mean as I do, and one always thinks that to be just as it ought. His health and mine are now fo good, that |