and quiet of our Country, as contrary to the notions we had of morality and religion, which oblige us on no pretence whatsoever to violate the laws of charity. How many lives have there been loft in hot blood, and how many more are there like to be taken off in cold? If the broils of the nation affect you, come down to me, and though we are farmers, you know Eumeus made his friends welcome. You fhall here worship the Echo at your ease; indeed we are forced to do fo, because we can't hear the first report, and therefore are obliged to liften to the fecond which, for fecurity fake, I do not always believe neither.

;

'Tis a great many years fince I fell in love with the character of Pomponius Atticus: I long'd to imitate him a little, and have contriv'd hitherto, to be, like him, engaged in no party, but to be a faithful friend to fome in both: I find myself very well in this way hitherto, and live in a certain peace of mind by it, which, I am perfuaded, brings a man more content than all the perquifites of wild ambition. I with pleafure join with you in wifhing, nay I am not afhamed to fay, in praying for the welfare temporal and eternal of all mankind. How much more affectionately then fhall I do fo for you, fince I am in a moft particular manner, and with all fincerity,

I

LETTER IV.

Jan. 21, 1715-16. Know of nothing that will be fo interesting to

;

you at present, as fome circumstances of the laft act of that eminent comic poet, and our friend, Wycherley. He had often told me, as I doubt not he did all his acquaintance, that he would marry as foon as his life was defpaired of: Accordingly a few days before his death he underwent the ceremony; and join'd together those two facraments which, wise men say, fhould be the last we receive for, if you obferve, Matrimony is placed after Extreme unction in our Catechism, as a kind of hint of the order of time in which they are to be taken. The old man then lay down, fatisfy'd in the confcience of having by this one act paid his just debts, obliged a woman, who (he was told) had merit, and fhewn an heroic refentment of the ill ufage of his next heir. Some hundred pounds which he had with the Lady, discharged those debts; a jointure of four hundred a year made her a recompence; and the nephew he left to comfort himself as well as he could, with the miferable remains of a mortgaged eftate. I faw our friend twice after this was done, lefs peevifh in his ficknefs than he used to be in his health; neither much afraid of dying, nor (which in him had been more likely) much ashamed of marrying. The evening before he expired, he called his young wife to the bedfide, and earnestly entreated her not to deny him one request, the last he fhould make. Upon her affurances of confenting to it, he told her, "My dear, it is only this, "that you will never marry an old man again. I cannot help remarking, that ficknefs, which often destroys both wit and wisdom, yet feldom has power to remove that talent which we call humour: Mr.

Wycherly

Wycherly fhew'd his, even in this laft compliment; tho' I think his request a little hard, for why fhould he bar her from doubling her Jointure on the fame eafy terms?

So trivial as these circumftances are, I fhould not be difpleas'd myself to know fuch trifles, when they concern or characterise any eminent perfon. The wifeft and wittieft of men are feldom wifer or wittier than others in these fober moments: At least, our friend ended much in the character he had lived in: and Horace's rule for a play, may as well be apply'd to him as a play-wright,

Servetur ad imum

Qualis ab inceptu procefferit, et fibi conftet.

I am, &c.

I

LETTER V.

Feb. 10, 1715-16.

you

Am just returned from the country, whither Mr. Rowe accompanied me, and pass'd a week in the foreft. I need not tell how much a man of his turn entertain'd me; but I muft acquaint you there is a vivacity and gaiety of disposition almost peculiar to him, which make it impoffible to part from him without that uneafiness which generally fucceeds all our pleasures. I have been just taking a folitary walk by moon-fhine, full of reflections on the transitory nature of all human delights; and giving my thoughts a loose in the contemplation of thofe fatisfactions which probably we may hereafter taste in the company of feparate fpirits, when we fhall range the walks above, and perhaps gaze on this world at as vaft a diftance as we now do on thofe worlds. The pleasures we are to enjoy in that

conver

conversation muft undoubtedly be of a nobler kind, and (not unlikely) may proceed from the discoveries each fhall communicate to another, of God and of Nature; for the happiness of minds can surely be nothing but knowledge.

The highest gratification we receive here from company is Mirth, which at the beft is but a fluttering unquiet motion, that beats about the breast for a few moments, and after leaves it void and empty. Keeping good company, even the best, is but a lefs fhameful art of lofing time. What we here call science and ftudy, are little better: the greater number of arts to which we apply ourselves are mere groping in the dark; and even the search of our most important concerns in a future being, is but a needlefs, anxious, and uncertain hafte to be knowing, fooner than we can, what without all this folicitude we shall know a little later. We are but curious impertinents in the cafe of futurity. 'Tis not our bufinefs to be gueffing what the state of fouls fhall be, but to be doing what may make our own ftate happy; we cannot be knowing, but we can be virtuous.

If this be my notion of a great part of that high fcience, Divinity, you will be fo civil as to imagine I lay no mighty firefs upon the rest. Even of my darling poetry I really make no other use, than horfes of the bells that gingle about their ears (tho' now and then they tofs their heads as if they were proud of them) only to jog on, a little more merrily.

Your obfervations on the narrow conceptions of mankind in the point of Friendship, confirm me in what I was fo fortunate as at my first knowledge of you to hope, and fince fo amply to experience. Let me take fo much decent pride and dignity upon me, as to tell you, that but for opinions like these which I difcovered in your mind, I had never made

the

the trial I have done; which has fucceeded fo much to mine, and, I believe, not lefs to your fatisfaction: for, if I know you right, your pleasure is greater in obliging me, than I can feel on my part, till it falls in my power to oblige you.

Your remark, that the variety of opinions in politics or religion is often rather a gratification, than an objection, to people who have sense enough to confider the beautiful order of nature in her variations; makes me think you have not conftrued Joannes Secundus wrong, in the verse which precedes that which you quote: Bene nota Fides, as I take it, does no way fignify the Roman Catholic Religion, tho' Secundus was of it. I think it was a generous thought, and one that flow'd from an exalted mind, That it was not improbable but God might be delighted with the various methods of worshipping him, which divided the whole world *. I am pretty fure you and I fhould no more make good Inquifitors to the modern tyrants in faith, than we could have been qualified for Lictors to Procruftes, when he converted refractory members with the rack. In a word, I can only repeat to you what, I think, I have formerly faid; that I as little fear God will

*This was an opinion taken up by the old Philofophers, as the laft fupport of Paganifm againft Chriftianity: And the Miffionaries, to both the Indies, tell us, it is the first answer modern barbarians give to the offer made them of the Gospel. But Chriftians might fee that the notion is not only improbable, but impoffible to be true, if the redemption of mankind was purchased by the death of Jefus, which is the gofpel idea of his Religion. Nor is there any need of this opinion to difcredit perfecution. For the iniquity of that practice does not arife from reftraining what God permits or delights in, but from ufurping a jurifdiction over confcience, which belongs only to his tribunal.

damn