and generally moft admire the things they don't comprehend, or the things they can never be the better for. Very few can receive pleasure or advantage from wit which they feldom tafte, or learning which they feldom understand: much less from the quality, high birth, or fhining circumstances of thofe to whom they profefs efteem, and who will always remember how much they are their Inferiors. But Humanity and fociable virtues are what every creature wants every day, and ftill wants more the longer he lives, and moft the very moment he dies. It is ill travelling either in a ditch or on a terras; we should walk in the common way, where others are continually paffing on the fame level, to make the journey of life fupportable by bearing one another company in the fame circumftances.-Let me know how I may convey over the Odyffes for your amusement in your journey, that you may compare your own travels with thofe of Ulyffes: I am fure yours are undertaken upon a more difinterefted, and therefore a more heroic motive. Far be the omen from you, of returning as he did, alone, without faving a friend.

There is lately printed a book wherein all human virtue is reduced to one teft, that of Truth, and branch'd out in every inftance of our duty to God and man. If you have not feen it, you muft, and I will send it together with the Odyffey. The very women read it, and pretend to be charm'd with that beauty which they generally think the leaft of. They make as much ado about truth, fince

Mr. Wollafton's book of the Religion of Nature delineated. The Queen was fond of it, and that made the reading of it, and the talking of it, fashionable.

this book appear'd, as they did about health when Dr. Cheyne's came out; and will doubtlefs be as conftant in the purfuit of one, as of the other. Adieu.

LETTER XXX.

To the fame.

Aug. 9, 1726.

I

Never am unmindful of thofe I think fo well of

as yourself; their number is not fo great as to confound one's memory. Nor ought you to decline writing to me, upon an imagination, that I am much employ'd by other people. For tho' my houfe is like the house of a Patriarch of old, standing by the highway fide and receiving all travellers, nevertheless I feldom go to bed without the reflection, that one's chief bufinefs is to be really at home; and I agree with you in your opinion of company, amufements, and all the filly things which mankind would fain make pleasures of, when in truth they are labour and forrow.

I condole with you on the death of your Relation, the E. of C. as on the fate of a mortal man: Efteem I never had for him, but concern and humanity I had the latter was due to the infirmity of his laft period, tho' the former was not due to the triumphant and vain part of his course. He certainly knew himself beft at laft, and knew beft the little value of others, whofe neglect of him, whom they fo grofly follow'd and flatter'd in the former fcene of his life, fhew'd them as worthlefs as they could imagine him to be, were he all that his worst enemies believed of him: For my own part, I am forry for his death, and wish he had lived long

enough

enough to fee fo much of the faithleffness of the world, as to have been above the mad ambition of governing fuch wretches as he must have found it to be composed of.

Tho' you could have no great value for this Great man, yet acquaintance itself, the custom of feeing the face, or entering under the roof, of one that walks along with us in the common way of the world, is enough to create a wifh at leaft for his being above ground, and a degree of uneafiness at his removal. 'Tis the lofs of an object familiar to us: I fhould hardly care to have an old poft pull'd up, that I remember'd ever fince I was a child. And add to this the reflection (in the cafe of fuch as were not the best of their Species) what their condition in another life may be, it is yet a more important motive for our concern and compaffion. To fay the truth, either in the cafe of death or life, almoft every body and every thing is a caufe or object for humanity, even profperity itself, and health itself; fo many weak pitiful incidentals attend on them.

I am forry any relation of yours is ill, whoever it be, for you don't name the perfon. But I conclude it is one of thofe to whofe houfes, you tell me, you are going, for I know no invitation with you is fo ftrong as when any one is in diftrefs, or in want of your affiftance: The ftrongest proof in the world of this, was your attendance on the late Earl.

I have been very melancholy for the lofs of Mr. Blount. Whoever has any portion of good nature will fuffer on thefe occafions: but a good mind rewards its own fufferings. I hope to trouble you as little as poffible, if it be my fate to go before you. I am of old Ennius's mind, Nemo me decoret lachrymis—I am but a Lodger here: this is not an abiding city, I am only to flay out my leafe: for what has Perpetuity and mortal man to do with each other? L 4

But

But I could be glad you would take up with an Inn at Twitenham, as long as I am Hoft of it: if not, I would take up freely with any Inn of yours.— Adieu, dear Sir: Let us while away this life: and (if we can) meet in another.

LETTER XXXI.

To the fame.

June 24, 1727.

OU are too humane and confiderate (things few people can be charged with.) Do not fay you will not expect letters from me; upon my word I can no more forbear writing sometimes to you, than thinking of you. I know the world too well, not to value you who are an example of acting, living, and thinking, above it, and contrary to it.

I thank God for my Mother's unexpected recovery, tho' my hope can rise no higher than from reprieve to reprieve, the small addition of a few days to the many she has already feen. Yet fo fhort and tranfitory as this light is, it is all I have to warm or fhine upon me; and when it is out, there is nothing elfe that will live for me, or confume itself in my fervice. But I would have you think this is not the chief motive of my concern about her: Gratitude is a cheap virtue, one may pay it very punctually, for it cofts us nothing, but our memory of the good done, And I owe her more good, than ever I can pay, or the at this age receive, if I could. I do not think the tranquillity of the mind ought to be difturbed for many things in this world: but those offices that are neceffary duties either to our friends or ourselves, will hardly prove any breach of it; and

as

as much as they take away from our indolence and ease of body, will contribute to our peace and quiet of mind by the content they give. They often afford the highest pleasure; and those who do not feel that, will hardly ever find another to match it, let them love themselves ever fo dearly. At the fame time it must be own'd, one meets with cruel disappointments in seeing so often the best endeavours ineffectual to make others happy, and very often (what is most cruel of all) thro' their own means *. But still, I affirm, thofe very disappointments of a virtuous man are greater pleasures, than the utmoft gratifications and fucceffes of a mere felf-lover.

The great and fudden event which has just now happened +, puts the whole world (I mean this whole world) into a new ftate: The only use I have, fhall, or wish to make of it, is to obferve the difparity of men from themselves in a week's time: the defultory leaping and catching of new motions, new modes, new measures: and that ftrange fpirit and life, with which men broken and disappointed refume their hopes, their follicitations, their ambitions! It would be worth your while as a Philofopher, to be bufy in these obfervations, and to come hither to see the fury and bustle of the Bees this hot feason, without coming fo near as to be ftung by them.

Your, &c.

See Letter xxv11, from Cirencester.

The death of K. George the First, which happened

the 11th of June, 1727.

LET