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 eafe; indeed we are forced to do fo, because we can't hear the firft report, and therefore are obliged to listen to the fecond; which, for fecurity fake, I do not always believe neither.

It is a great many years fince I fell in love with the character of Pomponius Atticus*: I longed to imitate him a little, and have contrived 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 shall I do fo for you, since I am in a moft particular manner, and with all fincerity, barks

Your, etc.

Is the character of a man fo cold and indifferent to the state of public affairs, patriæ tempore iniquo, as was Atticus, deferving the praises bestowed on him?

LETTER IV.

Jan. 21, 1715-16.

I

KNOW of nothing that will be fo interesting to you at prefent, as fome circumftances of the last 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 joined together those two facraments which, wife men fay, fhould be the last we receive; for, if you obferve, Matrimony is placed after Extreme unction in our Catechifm, as a kind of hint of the order of time in which they are to be taken. The old man then lay down, satisfied in the conscience of having by this one act paid his juft debts, obliged a woman, who (he was told) had merit, and fhewn an heroic refentment of the ill-usage 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 miserable remains of a mortgaged estate. I faw our friend twice after this was done, lefs peevish in his sickness 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,

I

expired, he called his young wife to the bedfide, and earnestly entreated her not to deny him one request, the last he should 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 sickness, which often destroys both wit and wisdom, yet feldom has power to remove that talent which we call Humour*: Mr. Wycherley fhewed his, even in this last compliment: though 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 thefe circumftances are, I fhould not be difpleafed 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 applied to him as a play-wright,

Servetur ad imum

Qualis ab inceptu procefferit, et fibi conftet.

I am, etc.

* An obfervation founded on a deep knowledge of human

nature.

LETTER V.

Feb. 10, 1715-16.

I

AM just returned from the country, whither Mr. Rowe accompanied me, and passed a week in the Foreft. I need not tell you how much a man of his turn* entertained me; but I must acquaint you there is a vivacity and gaiety of disposition almost peculiar to him, which make it impoffible to part from him without that uneafinefs which generally fucceeds all our pleasures. I have been just taking a folitary walk by moon-fhine, full of reflections on the tranfitory nature of all human delights; and giving my thoughts a loose in the contemplation of those fatisfactions which probably we may hereafter tafte in the company of separate spirits, when we shall range the

walks

* During this visit, it is said, that Pope defired him to write a Tragedy on the Death of Charles the Firft; which he declined, on account of the recency of the event, and the state of parties in this country. At the same time, also, Pope recommended to him, as another good fubject for the Drama, the Story of Mary Queen of Scots; "Which, if I undertake," faid Rowe, "I will by no means introduce Queen Elizabeth; for where fhe appears, all the Queens and Heroines upon earth will make but a little figure." He preferred, and I think injudiciously, his Tragedy of Tamerlane to all his other pieces. As Bajazet was intended to represent Louis XIV. this play was not permitted to be acted, during the latter part of Queen Ann's reign, though conftantly applauded and called for, till 1710. It is truly mortifying to hear it faid, that a man of fo gentle, engaging, and tender a difpofition, had no heart, and no fincerity in his friendships; and that even Addifon held this unfavourable opinion of him,

walks above, and perhaps gaze on this world at as vaft a distance as we now do on thofe worlds. The pleasures we are to enjoy in that converfation must undoubtedly be of a noble kind, and (not unlikely) may proceed from the difcoveries each fhall communicate to another, of God and of Nature; for the happiness of minds can furely 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 breaft for a few moments, and after leaves it void and empty. Keeping good company, even the beft, is but a lefs fhameful art of lofing time. What we here call science and study, are little better: the greater number of arts to which we apply ourfelves are mere groping in the dark; and even the fearch 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. It is not our business to be gueffing what the ftate of fouls fhall be, but to be doing what may make our own state happy; we cannot be knowing, but we can be virtuous.

If this be my notion of a great part of that high science, Divinity, you will be so civil as to imagine I lay no mighty stress upon the reft. Even of my darling poetry I really make no other ufe, than horses of the bells that gingle about their ears, (though now

and