LETTER 169.

Mr. Locke to Mr. Molyneux, on the advantages of Friendship.

SIR,

You look with the eyes, and speak the language of friendship, when you make my life of much more concern to the world than your own. I take it, as it is, for an effect of your kindness, and so shall not accuse you of compliment; the mistakes and over valuings of good will being always sincere, even when they exceed what common truth allows. Thus on my side I must beg you to believe that my life would be much more pleasant and useful to me if you were within my reach, that I might sometimes enjoy your conversation, and, upon twenty occasions, lay my thoughts before you, and have the advantage of your judgment. I cannot complain that I have not my share of friends of all ranks, and such whose interest, assistance, affection, and opinions too, in fit cases, I can rely on. But methinks, for all this, there is one place vacant, that I know nobody that would fill so well as yourself; I want one near me to talk freely with, de quolibet ente; to propose to the extravagances that rise in my mind; one with whom I would debate several doubts and questions, to see what was in them. Meditating by one's self is like digging in the mine; it often, perhaps, brings up maiden earth, which never came near the light before; but whether it contain any metal in it, is never so well tried as in conversation with a knowing, judicious friend, who carries about him the true touchstone, which is love of truth in a clear thinking head. Men of parts and judgment the world usually gets hold of, and by a great mistake, that their abilities of mind are

lost, if not employed in the pursuit of wealth and power, engage them in the ways of fortune and interest, which usually leave but little freedom or leisure of thought for pure disinterested truth. And such who give themselves up frankly, and in earnest, to the full latitude of real knowledge, are not every where to be met with. Wonder not, therefore, that I wish so much for you in my neighborhood. I should be too happy in a friend of your make, were you within my reach. But yet I cannot but wish that business would once bring you within distance; and it is a pain to me to think of leaving the world, without the happiness of seeing you.

I do not wonder that a kinsman of yours should magnify civilities that scarce deserve that name; I know not wherein they consisted, but in being glad to see one who was related to you, and was himself very ingenious; either of those was a title to more than I did, or could do. I am sorry I have not yet had an opportunity to wait on him in London, and I fear he should be gone before I am able to get thither. This long winter and cold spring has hung very heavy upon my lungs, and they are not yet in a case to be ventured in London air, which must be my excuse for not waiting upon him and Dr. Ashe yet.

Yours, &c.

DEAR SIR,

LETTER 170.

The Bishop of Rochester to Mr. Pope.

The Tower, April 10, 1729.

I thank you for all the instances of your friendship,

both before and since my misfortunes.

A little time

will complete them, and separate you and me for ever.
But in what part of the world soever I am, I will live
mindful of your sincere kindness to me; and will please
myself with the thought, that I still live in your esteem
and affection as much as ever I did; and that no accident
of life, no distance of time or place, will alter you in that
respect. It never can me; who have loved and valued
you ever since I knew you, and shall not fail to do it when
I am not allowed to tell you so; as the case will soon be.
Give my faithful services to Dr. Arbuthnot, and thanks
for what he sent me, which was much to the purpose, if
any thing can be said to be to the purpose, in a case that
is already determined. Let him know my defence will
be such, that neither my friends need blush for me, nor
my enemies have great occasion of triumph, though sure
of the victory. I shall want his advice before I go a-
broad, in many things, but I question whether I shall be
permitted to see him, or any body, but such as are abso-
lutely necessary towards the despatch of my private af-
fairs. If so, God bless you both; and may no part of the
ill fortune that attends me, ever pursue either of you! I
know not but I may call upon you at my hearing, to say
somewhat about my way of spending my time at the dean-
ery, which did not seem calculated towards managing
plots and conspiracies. But of that I shall consider; you
and I have spent many hours together, upon much pleas-
anter subjects; and, that I may preserve the old custom,
I shall not part with you now till I have closed this letter
with three lines of Milton, which you, I know, readily,
and not without some degree of concern, apply to your
ever affectionate friend.

Some natʼral tears he dropt, but wip'd them soon ;
The world was all before him where to choose
His place of rest; and Providence his guide.

DEAR SIR,

LETTER 171.

Dr. Arbuthnot to Mr. Pope.

I little doubt of your kind concern for me, nor of that of the lady you mention. I have nothing to repay my friends with at present, but prayers and good wishes. I have the satisfaction to find that I am as officiously served by my friends as he that has thousands to leave in legacies, besides the assurance of their sincerity. God Almighty has made my bodily distress as easy as a thing of that nature can be. I have found some relief, at least, sometimes, from the air of this place. My nights are bad, but many poor creatures are worse.

As for you, my good friend, I think, since our first acquaintance, there have not been any of those little suspicions or jealousies that often affect the sincerest friendships; I am sure not on my side. I must be so sincere as to own, that though I could not help valuing you for those talents which the world prizes, yet they were not the foundation of my friendship; they were quite of another sort; nor shall I at present offend you by enumerating them! And I make it my last request, that you will continue that noble disdain and abhorrence of vice which you seem naturally endued with, but still with a due regard to your own safety and study more to inform than to chastise, though the one cannot be effected without the other. Lord Bathurst I have always honored, for every good quality that a person of his rank ought to have; pray give my respects and kindest wishes to the family. My venison stomach is gone, but I have those about me, and often with me, who will be very glad of

his present; if it is left at my house it will be transmitted

safe to me.

A recovery in my case, and at my age, is impossible; the kindest wish of my friends is euthanasia; living or dying I shall always be your

Sincere friend.

LETTER 172.

Letter from Mr. West to Mr. Gray, soliciting his correspondence.

SIR,

You use me very cruelly; you have sent me but one' letter since I have been at Oxford, and that too agreeable not to make me sensible how great my loss is in not having more. Next to seeing you is the pleasure of seeing your hand writing; next to hearing you is the pleasure of hearing from you. Really and sincerely I wonder at you, that you thought it not worth while to answer my letter. I hope this will have better success in behalf of your quondam school fellow; in behalf of one who has walked hand in hand with you, like the two children in the wood,

Thro' many a flow'ry path and shelly grot,

Where learning lull'd us in her private maze. The very thought, you see, tips my pen with poetry, and brings Eton to my view. Consider me very seriously here in a strange country, inhabited by things that call themselves doctors and masters of arts; a country flow. ing with syllogisms and ale, and where Horace and Virgil are equally unknown; consider me, I say, in this melancholy light, and then think if something be not due to Yours, &c..