ity in the conduct of those with whom we are any way connected. The imperfections incident to human nature are so numerous, that we are solicitous of finding some person to whom we can unbosom our minds, and lay open the inmost recesses of our hearts. A real friend, in order to preserve the character he has assumed, wiH, in the first place, endeavor to discharge every duty incumbent upon him to all his fellow creatures. But still there is something wanting; and although we may be philanthropists in general, yet we like to place our affections on one particular object. Why, my friend, any suspicion of my sincerity? Why did you conceal your distress from me? Friendship is of too sacred a nature to be trifled with, and the man who does not act consistent with his professions prostitutes that amiable appellation. No mental reservation can be used in friendship, for whenever that happens there is some doubt of sincerity, which for the most part ends either in total indifference, or which is infinitely worse, an absolute hatred. I am sorry to say, that there are few people who either know or value the blessings of friendship; if they did they would not, upon every frivolous occasion, find fault with the conduct of their fellow creatures. At present, my dear friend, let my purse, however empty, be at your service, but let it never be more open than my heart. Conceal nothing -from me, and all I have is yours. We were once friends, let us only remain so. Let me hear an account from you of your present circumstances, and my last shilling shall be spent in your service. Let the sincerity of my friendship be estimated only according to my actions, and if it shall appear that I have acted inconsistent with the sacred name of friendship, let me be forever blotted out of your memory. I am, sir, your sincere well wisher. LETTER 165. From a Gentleman lately returned from his travels to his Friend, concerning Loyalty. DEAR SIR, It is very natural for the most curious travellers, after having spent some time abroad, to return with joy to their own country; but much more pleasant to me who did not go out of it by my own choice, but impelled by necessity. When I returned, I hoped to find a general tranquility among all ranks of people, and the animosities which subsisted when I went abroad, buried in perpetual oblivion. But I was strangely amazed to find the same spirit of murmuring as before. In one place the ministry are said to be seeking the loaves and fishes, and the patriots are endeav oring to dispossess them, with no other view than to obtain their places. In one place we are told, that the ministers are abandoned debauchees, and when the courtiers return the compliment to the patriots, the answer is, that a man may be an abandoned villain, a scandal to human nature, and yet a lover of his country. If you ask these several sorts of gentlemen what it is they wish for, you will find they have several ends in view. Some of them are men that have, by their extravagance, spent their fortunes, lost their credit, and therefore are in violent haste for a war, in hopes by plunder to replenish their pockets, like vultures who keep hovering over a dead carcase. They speak aloud just as they would have it, that all things are running to confusion. Others, like crows, love the fruits of the earth, but hate the smell of gunpowder; and these affirm as positively, though not so loudly, that we shall be inevitably ruined unless there is a change of the ministry. A third sort of this disaffected party, are a set of men like moles, that are always digging under ground, and no kind of soil can escape their talons. Besides these there is another party, whose designs are extremely foreign to any of the rest, and yet they are equally pernicious. There are several select companies of drunkards, who instead of minding their own business, assemble at different ale houses to settle the state of the nation over a tankard of porter or a bowl of punch. These may properly be called, A pamper'd people, and debauched with ease, No king can govern, and no God can please. The above gentry are a real nuisance to human society, as they raise groundless fears in the minds of peaceable people, who think it high time to feel their grievances when they really happen. No man can be more a friend, and even advocate for the liberties of his country than myself; and a patriotic magistrate will at all times attend to the voice of the people, and as a common father, love to be put in mind of his duty. But when I find no fault committed by the administration, except such as is inseparably connected with human nature, consider the abettors as real incendiaries, who want to create dissentions among a brave united people. For my own part, when I consider the present distracted state of affairs, and compare it with my duty as an individual, I am ready to cry out with the Psalmist: " May peace be within her walls, and prosperity within her palaces!" May they prosper who wish her well, and seek her peace continually! and in this wish, I doubt not but you will join heartily with Your friend. LETTER 166. To a young Man on Prudence. MY DEAR FRIEND, The first thing necessary for a happy progress in business, is prudence or discretion. This, as it relates to trade, is a habit of mind enabling us to conduct our affairs in the wisest and best manner; or, in other words, it is pursuing the proper end, by the best means, and in the fittest time. It is not that serpentine craft, which lies in wait to captivate the unwary, impose upon the credulous, and overreach the weak understanding, and which teaches men to increase their wealth by injustice and fraud. Godhas given to man no superior wisdom or skill, to be directed to ends so contrary to his own nature and will, and the good of mankind. But it is that honest wisdom, which is consistent with a good conscience, and an ornament to it. Prudence is subtility refined from all those base and unjust views, as subtility is wisdom corrupted by them. Wisdom, like light, is pleasant to behold; it quickens the spirits, disposes the mind to a cheerful activity, and makes the passages of life clear and open. Uuder God, it enables us to acquire and enjoy many advantages we could not otherwise attain; and obviates many evils and inconveniences to which we are liable, Whatever good arises from deliberate advice, sagacious foresight, stable resolution, and orderly conduct, wisdom confers. Whatever evils procceed from blind ignorance, false presumption, unwary credulity, precipitate rashness, wisdom prevents. It begets in us the reasonable hope of success; and quiets the heart in the want of it. God' having given to man a considering mind, sagacity and foresight, which he has denied to other creatures, they who act foolishly, so far degrade the man, and sesemble the brute; and many are ruined by their own indiscretion and folly, without any other visible means than that they were themselves rash, wilful, or weak. But, when our intentions are good, and the means proper, we may hope that allwise goodness will prosper us; our successs will then be doubly pleasant. Or, if we are disappointed, we shall disarm the affliction of what makes the deepest wound, the reflection that it was caused by our own folly. It is not supposed that our wisdom and prudence can control the events of divine Providence, or make our dependance upon God unnecessary. But it will hinder us from being our own destroyers, and is the means which the governor of the world uses to bestow prosperity and happiness where he is diposed to vouchsafe the enjoyment of them. A considerate head is often more successful than the laborious hand, though both should be united in most employments. Your sincere friend. 1 LETTER 167. To the same, on the vicissitudes of Human Life. MY YOUNG FRIEND, Remember that human life is but as the journey of a day. We rise in the morning of youth, full of vigor and expectation, set forward with spirit and hope, with gaiety and with diligence, and travel on awhile` in the straight road of piety, towards the mansions of rest. In a short time we remit our fervor, and endeavor to find some mitigation of our duty, and some more easy means of obtaining the same end. We then relax our vigor, and resolve to be no more terrified with crimes at a distance, but rely upon our own constancy, and venture to approach what we resolve never to touch. We thus enter the bowers of ease, and repose in the shades of security. Here the heart softens and vigilance subsides; we are then willing to inquire, whether another advance cannot be made, and whether we may not at least turn our eyes upon the gardens of pleasure. We approach them with scruple and hesitation; we enter them timorous and trembling, and always hope to pass through them without losing the road of virtue, which for awhile we keep in our sight, and to which we propose to return. But temptation succeeds temptation, and one compliance prepares us for another; we, in time, lose the happiness of innocence, and solace our disquiet with sensual gratifications. By degrees we let fall the remembrance of our orignal intention, and quit the only adequate object of rational desire. tangle ourselves in business, immerge ourselves in luxury, and rove We en through the labyrinths of inconstancy, till the darkness of old age begins to invade us, and disease and anxiety obstruct our way, we then look back upon our lives with horror, with sorrow, with repentance; and wish, but too often vainly wish, that we had not forsaken the ways of virtue. Happy are they my friend, who learn not to despair, but shall remember, that though the day is past, and their strength is wasted, there yet remains one effort to be made; that reformation is never hopeless, nor sincere endeavors ever unassisted; that the wanderer may at length return after all his errors; and that he who implores strength and courage from above, shall find danger and difficulty give way before him. Yours, sincerely. LETTER 168. Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Thrale, on the value of long established Friendship, DEAR MADAM, Since you have written to me with the attention and tenderness of ancient time, your letters give me a great part of the pleasure which a life of solitude admits. You will never bestow a share of your good will on one who deserves better. Those that have loved longest love best. A sudden blaze of kindness may, by a single blast of coldness be extinguished, but that fondness, which length of time has connected with many circumstances and occasions, though it may for a while be suppressed by disgust or resentment, with, or without a cause, is hourly revived by accidental recollection. To those that have lived long together, every thing heard, and every thing seen, recals some pleasure communicated, or some benefit conferred, some petty quarrel, or some slight endearment. Esteem of great powers, or amiable qualities newly discovered, may embroider a day or week, but a friendship of twenty years, is interwoven with the texture of life. A friend may be often found and lost, but an old friend never can be found, and nature has provided that he cannot easily be lost. I have not forgotten the Davenants, though they seem to have forgotten me. I began very early to tell them what they have commonly found to be true. I am sorry to hear of their building. I have always warned those whom I loved, against that mode of ostentatious waste. You seem to mention Lord Kilmurry, as a stranger. We were at his house in Cheshire; and he one day dined with Sir-Lynch. What he tells me of the epigram is not true,.but perhaps he does not know it to be false. Do not you remember how he rejoiced in having no park; he could not disoblige his neighbors by sending them no venison. The frequency of death to those who look upon it in the leisure of Arcadia, is very dreadful. We all all know what it should teach us ; let us all be diligent to learn. Lucy Porter has lost her brother. But whom have I lost? Let not your loss be be added to the mournful catalogue Write soon again to, madam, 10 Yours, &c. 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 so 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 advangage 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 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 that 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. I thank you for all the instances of your friendship, both before and |