wifeft and wittiest of men are feldom wiser 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.

LETTER V.

Feb. 10, 1715-16.

I AM juft returned from the country, whither Mr. Rowe accompanied me, and paffed a week in the Forest. I need not tell you how much a man of his turn entertained me; but I must acquaint you there

is

During this vifit, it is faid, that Pope defired him to write a Tragedy on the Death of Charles the First; which he declined, on account of the recency of the event, and the state of parties in this country. At the fame time, alfo, Pope recommended to him, as another good subject 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 the 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 Anne's reign, though conftantly applauded and called for, till 1710. WARTON.

is a vivacity and gaiety of difpofition 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 thofe fatisfactions which probably we may hereafter tafte in the company of separate fpirits, when we fhall range the 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 muft undoubtedly be of a noble 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 firely be nothing but knowledge.

The higheft 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 ourselves are mere groping in the dark; and even the fearch of our most important concerns in a future being, is but a needlefs, anxious,

*All this, which is fo contrary to the fpirit of epiftolary writing, was perhaps part of a juvenile Moral Effay, which he was unwilling to lofe, and therefore turned into a Letter. One can no otherwife account for fuch tritical pompofity.

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 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 stress upon the reft. Even of my darling poetry I really make no other use, than horfes of the bells that jingle about their ears, (though 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 so much decent pride and dignity upon me, as to tell you, that but for opinions like thefe which I difcovered in your mind, I had never made 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 fenfe enough to con

fider the beautiful order of Nature in her variations, makes me think you have not conftrued Joannes Secundus wrong, in the verfe which precedes that which you quote: Bene nota Fides, as I take it, does no way fignify the Roman Catholic Religion, though Secundus was of it. I think it was a generous thought, and one that flowed 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 } should 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 damn a man who has Charity, as I hope that any Prieft can fave him with

out it.

I am, etc.

This was an opinion taken up by the old Philofophers, as the laft fupport of Paganifm against Christianity: And the Miffion.

aries to both the Indies tell us, it is the first answer modern Barbarians give to the offer made them of the Gofpel. 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 jurisdiction over confcience, which belongs only to his tribunal. WARBURTON.

LETTER VI.

March 20, 1715-16.

I

FIND that a real concern is not only a hindrance to fpeaking, but to writing too: the more time we give ourselves to think over one's own or a friend's unhappiness, the more unable we grow to express the grief that proceeds from it. It is as natural to delay a letter, at such a season as this, as to retard a melancholy visit to a person one cannot relieve. One is ashamed in that circumftance, to pretend to entertain people with trifling, infignificant affectations of forrow on the one hand, or unfeasonable and forced gaieties on the other. It is a kind of profanation of things facred, to treat fo folemn a matter as a generous voluntary suffering, with compliments, or heroic gallantries. Such a mind as yours has no need of being spirited up into honour, or like a weak woman, praised into an opinion of its own virtue. It is enough to do and fuffer what we ought; and men. should know, that the noble power of suffering bravely is as far above that of enterprising greatly, as an unblemished confcience and inflexible refolution are above an accidental flow of fpirits, or a fudden tide of blood. If the whole religious business of mankind be included in refignation to our Maker, and charity to our fellow-creatures, there are now