tion of one fex, and almost all the friendship of the other. I am but too fenfible thro' your means, that the company of men wants a certain foftnefs to recommend it, and that of women wants every thing elfe. How often have I been quietly going to take poffeffion of that tranquillity and indolence I had fo long found in the country; when one evening of your converfation has fpoil'd me for a Solitaire! Books have loft their effect upon me, and I was convinced fince I faw you, that there is one alive wiser than all the fages. A plague of female wisdom! it makes a man ten times more uneafy than his own. What is very ftrange, Virtue herself (when you have the dreffing her) is too amiable for one's repofe. You might have done a world of good in your time, if you had allowed half the fine gentlemen who have seen you, to have converfed with you; they would have been ftrangely bit, while they thought only to fall in love with a fair lady, and you had bewitch'd them with Reafon and Virtue (two beauties that the very fops pretend no acquaintance with.)

The unhappy distance at which we correfpond, removes a great many of those restrictions and punctilious decorums, that oftentimes in nearer converfation prejudice truth, to fave good breeding. I may now hear of my faults and you of your good qualities, without a blufh; we converfe upon fuch unfortunate generous terms, as exclude the regards of fear, fhame, or design, in either of us. And, methinks, it would be as paltry a part, to impofe (even in a fingle thought) upon each other in this state of separation, as for spirits of a different fphere, who have fo little intercourfe with us, to employ that little (as fome would make us think they do) in putting tricks and delufions upon poor mortals.

Let me begin then, Madam, by asking you a quef tion, that may enable me to judge better of my own conduct than moft inftances of my life. In what manner did I behave in the laft hour I faw you? What de gree of concern did I discover when I felt a misfortune,

which, I hope, you will never feel, that of parting from what one moft efteems? for if my parting looked but like that of your common acquaintance, I am the greatest of all the hypocrites that ever decency made.

I never fince país by your houfe but with the fame fort of melancholy that we feel upon feeing the tomb of a friend, which only ferves to put us in mind of what we have loft. I reflect upon the circumftances of your departure, which I was there a witness of (your behaviour in what I may call your last moments) and I indulge a gloomy kind of pleasure in thinking that those laft moments were given to me. I would fain imagine that this was not accidental, but proceeded from a penetration, which, I know, you have, in finding out the truth of people's fentiments; and that you were willing, the last man that would have parted from you, should be the last that did. I really looked upon you juft as the friends of Curtius might have done upon that hero, at the inftant when he was devoting himself to glory, and running to be loft out of generofity: I was obliged to admire your refolution, in as great a degree as I deplored it; and had only to wifh, that Heaven would reward fo much virtue as was to be taken from us, with all the felicities it could enjoy elsewhere.

I am, etc.

I

LETTER XXI.

Can never have too many of your letters. I am angry at every fcrap of paper loft, and tho' it is but an odd compliment to compare a fine lady to a Sibyl, your Icaves, methinks, like hers, are too good to be committed to the winds; tho' I have no other way of receiving them but by thofe unfaithful meffengers. I have had but three, and I reckon that fhort one from D-, which was rather a dying ejaculation than a letter.

You have contrived to fay in your laft the two things

moft pleafing to me: The first, that whatever be the fate of your letters, you will continue to write in the discharge of your confcience. The 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 should 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 me, I fancy my expreffions have not been entirely unfaithful to my thoughts.

May your faith be encreafed in. all truths, that are as great as this, and, depend upon it, to whatever degree it may extend, you never can be a bigot.

If you could see 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 moft like reafon of any foible in nature. Upon my word this heart is not like a great warehouse, ftored only with my own goods, or with empty spaces to be fupplied as fast as intereft or ambition can fill them: .but is every inch of it let out into lodgings for its friends, and fhall never want a corner where your idea will always lie as warm, and as close, as any idea in Chriftendom.

If this diftance (as you are fo 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 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 your 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

had reason to hate the King, it is I, whofe particular misfortune it is, to be almoft the only innocent perfor he has made to fuffer; both by his government at home, and his negociations abroad:

If you muft go from us, I wish at least you might pass to your banishment by the most pleasant way; that all the road might be roses and myrtles, and a thousand objects rife round you, agreeable enough to make England lefs defirable to you. It is not now my intereft to wish England agreeable: it is highly probable it may use 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.

I could overtake you with pleasure in, and make that tour in your company. Every reafonable entertainment and beautiful view would be doubly engaging when you partook of it. I should at leaft attend you to the fea coafts, and caft a laft look after the fails that tranfported you. But perhaps I might care as little to ftay 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 but I might run into Afia in fearch of liberty; for who would not rather live a freeman among a nation of flaves, than a slave among a na tion of freemen?

In good earnest, if I knew your motions, and your exact time; I verily think, I fhould be once more happy in a fight of you next Spring.

I'll conclude with a wifh, God send you with us, or me with you.

LETTER

LETTER XXII.

You will find me more troublesome than ever Brutus did his evil Genius; I fhall meet 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 risque I generally run of manifefting my own indiscretion. You then rewarded my truft in you the moment it was given, for you pleas'd or inform'd me the minute you answer'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 fhrink at the paft dangers of dead travellers; and if I read of a delightful prospect, or agreeable place, I hope it yet subsists to please you. I enquire the roads, the amusements, the company, of every town and country thro' which you pafs, 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 conftantly 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 VOL. III. Hhh

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