some others that possibly you will think worth your inquiry and knowledge. I dare undertake for myself that I shall be a very faithful and diligent factor, and you cannot blame me for desiring the employment, since I may enrich myself in it very honestly, without at all lessening any part of your returns. And to confess the truth, I have another private interest of my own in it. I would beg the favour of two or three lines from your hand to recommend me to the acquaintance of any one of the virtuosi you shall think fit here. I know your bare name will open doors and gain admittance for me where otherwise one like me, without port or name, that have little tongue and less knowledge, shall hardly get entrance."

That was not mere compliment, except as regards the "less knowledge." The tables are now turned; but in 1677 Boyle, not Locke, was the famous philosopher. Boyle, moreover, had lived some time in Paris, and had many friends there.

"They talk here," Locke added, "of a little brass globe, three or four inches diameter, that, being wound up once a month, shows all the motions of the heavens. I am so newly come hither, and am, since my late ague, so ill a walker, that I have not yet seen it. But I hope in a little while my legs will come again to themselves, and be able to carry me about lustily, and then I shall be trudging up and down in quest of new discoveries."

Soon after writing thus to Boyle, Locke despatched a letter to his more intimate friend John Mapletoft, which illustrates the character and affairs of both men.

1 Boyle, 'Works,' vol. v., p. 568; Locke to Boyle, [25 May-] 4 June,

"DEAR SIR,—If you make not use of the same goodness in excusing my silence as you use to do in affording me your letters, I shall be in great danger of your hard thoughts, and you will in appearance have reason to imagine that I know not how to value either your friendship or correspondence as I ought. When I think on the particular accidents and considerations that have caused this neglect in me, methinks I have something to say for myself; but when I look on the length of time, all at once methinks nothing is enough to excuse it. However, I will not enter upon the long story of my vindication. I choose rather to throw myself wholly upon your mercy. I know your kindness will stand a greater shock than this, and you will not be much angry with me for a fault wherein I have been the sufferer as well as the guilty. If I thought it were necessary to say anything more than this, I would refer you to the enclosed. But I fancy with myself that is some kind of merit of your pardon that I dare expect it of you, without troubling you with a long story-which, for my vindication, I have thought necessary to tell one who yet I think a very good friend and very goodnatured.

"I arrived here about the beginning of this month, with the remains of a very untoward ague upon me, which seized and kept me a while upon the way; but, I thank God, have now pretty well recovered my strength, so that if you have any commands for me here, I might hope to execute them But I have little expectation of any from you. You that, when you were here yourself, and breathed the air of this place, which seems to me not very much to favour the severer sects of philosophers, were yet so great a one as to provide for all your necessities with the expense of only a crown or two, will not, I guess, now that you are out of the sight of all our gaudy fashionable temptations, have much employment for a factor here; but yet, if either absence, which sometimes increases our desires, or love, which we see every day produces strange effects in the world, have softened you or disposed you towards any liking of any of our fine new things, 'tis but saying so, and I am ready to furnish you and should be sorry not to be employed.

"I mention love, for you know I have a particular interest of my own in it. When you look that way, nobody will be readier, as you may guess, to throw an old shoe after you, much for your own sake, and a little for a friend of yours. But, were I to advise you, perhaps I should say to you that your lodgings at Gresham College were a very quiet and comfortable habitation. I know not how I am got into this chapter of love, unless the genius of the place inspires me with it, for I do not find that my ague has VOL. I.-24

much inclined me to the thoughts of it. My health, which you are so kind to in your wishes, is the only mistress I have a long time courted, and is so coy a one that I think it will take up the remainder of my days to obtain her good graces and keep her in good humour. She hath of late been very wayward, but, I hope, is coming about again. I shall be glad that my constant addresses should at last prevail with her, that I might be in a better condition to enjoy and serve you; being, with all sincerity, dear sir, your most humble servant,

"JOHN LOCKE.

"My service, I beseech you, to all my friends in your walks, particularly Dr. Sydenham. The spell held till I had left Montpellier,1 for by all the art and industry I could use I could not get a book of his to Montpellier till the week after I had left it. I shall be glad to hear that every day gains ground, though that be not always the fate of useful truth, especially at first setting out. I shall perhaps be able to give him an account of what some ingenious men think of it here; though I imagine he is so well satisfied with the truth in it and the design that made him publish it, that he matters not much what men think. And yet that is usually a very great and allowable pleasure to see the trees take and thrive in our own time which we ourselves have planted." 2

That gossiping, playful, melancholy letter needs some annotation. When we last heard of Mapletoft, he was in France, continuing the journey with the Countess of Northumberland, in which Locke had been his companion for a few weeks in the autumn of 1672. When he returned to England is not stated, but it must have been before the 27th of March, 1675, as on that day he was elected professor of physic at Gresham College, an appointment bringing some emolument and considerable dignity, Gresham College being then in its palmiest age and a rival of Oxford and Cambridge in its teaching of the sciences. In 1676, while Locke was at Montpellier,

6

1 Locke must in a previous letter have mentioned his inability to obtain a copy of the Observationes Medicae' that Sydenham had published in 1676. 2 European Magazine, vol. xv. (1789), p. 10; Locke to Mapletoft, [12—] 22 June, 1677.

1677. Et. 44.

MAPLETOFT'S MARRIAGE AND PROFESSORSHIP.

371

Ralph Montague, the English ambassador in France of whom mention has been made, married Lady Northumberland, then a widow of six years' standing, and Mapletoft appears to have spent a vacation with them in Paris. He was in London, however, in May, 1677, when Locke heard that he himself had thoughts of marrying. This news was interesting to Locke, as he hinted in his letter, not only on Mapletoft's own account, but because the marriage would compel Mapletoft to resign his Gresham professorship, in which, if thus happily vacated, he was anxious to succeed him.1

This state of things is pleasantly described in the two letters next to be quoted. The allusion in the first to Isaac Barrow-who had been geometry professor at Gresham College, as well as Greek professor at Cambridge, and who died on the 14th of May, 1677, when he was only forty-seven years old—is interesting, as containing the only positive intimation we have of the friendship that existed between him and Locke. That Mapletoft was one of his most intimate friends is well known.

"SIR,-When I do not hear from my friends for a long time, I presently conclude that either theirs or my letter hath miscarried, and so betake myself to the known remedy of writing again.

"I have been now here about these two months, and though you, that could do all your markets here for yourself for two or three crowns, will not, 'tis likely, much need a factor, and so I can hope for no employment from you, yet you must consider that I need to hear from you, and having lost lately two very considerable friends in England, Sir John King and Dr. Barrow, you will not blame me if I inquire a little earnestly what is become of the rest. The place you have given me in your friendship, and the great concernment it is to me to preserve that advantage, allow me to

1 Ward, Lives of the Gresham Professors,'-the copy in the British Museum, with Ward's manuscript notes.

be inquisitive. You must therefore excuse my importunity. I, who love my ease, even to a great degree of laziness, cannot take it amiss that you should be indulgent to yours; but, since you have charity enough sometimes to have your rest broken for the relief of others, permit me also to apply myself to you for a pain which you only can remedy; and let me know by the first that you are well and preserve me in your memory.

"I understand, both from himself and from others, that our good friend Dr. Sydenham hath of late been very ill of more than one malady. I hope he is by this time well recovered, and returned again to his old thoughts and practice of physic. I am very much concerned for it, both for the public and my own particular interest. Pray remember me very kindly to him, and in your next do me the favour to let me know how he also does. "I am, dear sir, your most affectionate humble servant,

"JOHN LOCKE."1 Under the same cover was enclosed the following more important letter:

“DEAR SIR,—I had no sooner done my letter on the other side, but I found it answered by yours of July 25. And, though it hath satisfied me that you are very well, and given me new proofs that you are very much my friend, yet it hath put new doubts into me, and methinks I see you going to lose yourself. I will say no worse of it, not knowing how far the matter is gone; else I would ask you whether she were young, old, or middle-aged, each of which is sure to meet you with the horns of a dilemma. I see you are, whatever you think, hot upon the scent, and if you have nothing else to defend you but those maxims you build on, I fear the chase will lead you where you yourself will be caught. For, be as grave and steady as you please, resolve as much as you will never to go out of your way nor pace for never an hey nony nony' whatsoever, you are not one jot the safer for all this sturdiness. For believe it, sir, this sort of game, having a design to be caught, will hunt just at the pursuer's rate, and will go no further before than will just serve to make you follow; and let me assure you, upon as good authority as honest Tom Bagnall's, that Vivus vidensque pereo is the lamentable ditty of many an honest gentleman. But if you or the fates have determined (for the poor fates are still to be accused in the case), if your mettle be up, and, as bold as Sir Francis Drake, you will shoot the desperate gulf, yet consider, though the riches of

1 European Magazine, vol. xv. (1789), p. 89; Locke to Mapletoft, [30 July-19 August, 1677.