Lewis Morris, Esq. to his Brother. 217 more. When I began at Llwyn Llwyd, they worked so fresh there for a considerable time, that they even frightened some young workmen out of the work. This was when we were driving levels, and before we had got any ore; but, when we came to the ore, then they gave over, and I heard no more talk of them. Our old miners are no more concerned at hearing them blasting, boring holes, landing deads, &c. than if they were some of their own people; and a single miner will stay in the work, in the dead of night, without any man near him, and never think of any fear or harm that they will do him; for they have a notion that the knockers are of their own tribe and profession, and are a harmless people, who, mean well. Three or four miners together shall hear them sometimes; but, if the miners stop to take notice of them, the knockers will also stop; but, let the miners go on at their own work, suppose it is boring, the knockers will go on as brisk as can be in landing, blasting, or beating down the loose; and they were always heard a little way from them before they came to ore. These are odd assertions, but they are certainly facts, though we cannot and do not pretend to account for them. We have now very good ore at Llwyn Llwyd, where the knockers were heard to work, but have now yielded up the place, and are no more heard. Let who will laugh, we have the greatest reason to rejoice, and thank the knockers, or rather God, who sends us these notices. This topic would take up a large volume to handle properly; and I wish an able hand would take the task upon him to discuss the point, perhaps some extraordinary light into Nature might be struck out of it. The word supernatural, used among us, is nonsense; there is nothing supernatural; for, the degrees of all beings, from the vegetative life to the archangel, are natural, real, absolute creatures, made by God's own hand; and all their actions, motions, and qualities, are natural. Doth not the fire burn a stick into ashes as natural as the air or water dissolves salt; and yet fire, when out of action, is invisible and impalpable; but where is the home or country of fire? Where also is the home and country of knockers? I am, dear brother, yours affectionately, LEWIS MORRIS. 1795, July. Bishops, which surely the greas increase of population and of would sufficiently justify. churches for consideration. think out the plan) which, as a humble Churchman, I desire to submit I abstain from details (which may occur as well to others who will I will with your permission, make a few further observations in a LXXXVIII. Dr. Young to the Rev. Thomas Newcombe. MR. URBAN, THE following excellent letter of the great Dr. Young, will doubtless be an acceptable present to your readers. It is probably one of the last he ever wrote. E. H. "To the Rev. Mr. Thos. Newcombe, at Hackney, near London. MY DEAR OLD FRIEND, Welwyn, Nov. 25, 1762. AND now my only dear old friend, for your name-sake Colborn is dead; he died last winter of a cold, caught by officiating on the Fast-day: he has left one daughter, I believe, in pretty good circumstances; for a friend of his, some time ago, settled upon her twenty pounds a year; and he, no doubt, has left her something considerable himself. I am pleased with the stanzas you sent me; there is nothing in them of eighty-seven; and if you have been as young, in your attempt on the Death of Abel, it will do you credit. That work I have read, and think it deserves the reception it has met withall. The libel you mention, I have not seen: but I have seen numberless papers, which shew that our body politic is far from being in perfect health. As for my own health, I do not love to complain; but one particular I must tell you, that my sight is so far gone, as to lay me under the necessity of borrowing a hand to write this. God grant me grace under this darkness, to see more clearly things invisible and eternal, those great things, which you and I must soon be acquainted with; and why not rejoice at it? There is not a day of my long life that I desire to repeat; and at fourscore it is all labour and sorrow. What then have we to do? But one thing remains, and in that one, blessed be God, by his assistance we are sure of success. Let nothing, therefore, lie heavy on your heart; let us rely on him who has done so great things for us; that lover of souls, that hearer of prayers, whenever they come from the heart; and sure rewarder of all those who love him, and put their trust in his mercy. Let us not be discontented with this world; that is bad, but it is still worse to be satisfied with it, so satisfied, as not to be very anxious for something more. My love and best wishes attend you both, and, I am, P.S. I am persuaded that you are mistaken as to your age. You write yourself 87, which cannot be the case; for I always thought myself older than you, and I want considerably of that age. If it is worth your while, satisfy me as to this particular." 1797, Feb. LXXXIX. Letter of John Locke, MR. URBAN, THE following letter of the great and good Mr. Locke, is in the possession of Mrs. Frances Bridger, of Fowlers, in Hawkherst, Kent, a lineal descendant of John Alford, Esq. son of Sir Edward Alford, Knt. of Offington Place, near Arundel, Sussex, to whom it was addressed. "SIR, D. J. Ch. Ch. 12° Jun. 66. 1 HAVE not yet quite parted with you; and though you have put off your gowne, you are not yet got beyond my affection or concernment for you. 'Tis true you are now past masters and tutors, and it is now therefore that you ought to have the greater care of yourself; since those mistakes, or miscarriages, which heretofore would have been charged upon them, will now, if any, light wholly upon you, and you yourself must be accountable for all your actions; nor will any longer any one else share in the praise or censure they may deserve. "Twill be time, therefore, that you now begin to think yourself a man, and necessary that you take the courage of one. I mean not such a courage as may name you one of those daring gallants that stick at nothing; but a courage that may defend and secure your virtue and religion; for, in the world you are now looking into, you will find perhaps more onsets made upon your innocence than you can imagine; and there are more dangerous thieves than those that lay wait for your purse, who will endeavour to rob you of that virtue which they care not for themselves. I could wish you that happyness as never to fall into such company. But I consider you are to live in the world; and, whilst either the service of your country, or your own businesse, makes your conversation with men necessary, perhaps this caution will be needful. But you may withhold your heart where you cannot deny your company; and you may allow those your civility, who possibly will not deserve your affection. I think it needlesse and impertinent to dissuade you from vices I never observed you inclined to. I write this to strengthen your resolutions, not to give you new ones. But let not the importunities or examples of others prevail against the dictates of your own reason and education. I do not in this advise you to be either a mumbe or morose; to avoid company, or not enjoy it. One may certainly with innocence use all the enjoyments of life: and I have beene always of opinion, that a virtuous life is best disposed to be the most pleasant. For, certainly, amidst the troubles and vanitys of this world, there are but two things that bring a reall satisfaction with them, that is, virtue and knowledge. What progress you have made in the latter, you will doe well not to lose. Your spare hours from devotion, businesse, or recreation (for that too I can allow, where employment, not idlenesse, gives a title to it), will be well bestowed in reviewing or improving your University notions; and if at this distance I could afford your studies any direction or assistance, I should be glad, and you need only let me know it. Though your ancestors have left you a condition above the ordinary rank, yet it's yourself alone that can advance yourself to it: for it's not either your going upon two legs, or liveing in a great house, or possessing many acres, that gives one advantage over beasts or other men; but the being wiser and better. I speak not this to make you carelesse of your estate; for, though riches be not virtue, it's a great instrument of it, wherein lyes a great part of the usefullnesse and comfort of life. In the right management of this lyes a great part of prudence, and about money is the great mistake of men; whilst they are either too coviteous, or too carelesse of it. If you throw it away idlely, you lose your great support, and best friend. If you hugge it too closely, you lose it and yourself too. To be thought prudent and liberall, provident and good-natured, are things worth your endeavour to obtain, which perhaps you will better doe, by avoiding the occasions of expenses than by a frugall limiting them when occasion hath made them necessary. But I forget you are neere your lady mother whilst I give you these advices, and doe not observe that what I meant for a letter begins to grow into a treatise. Those many particulars that here is not roome for, I send you to seeke in the writings of learned and sage authors. Let me give you by them those counsells I cannot now. They will direct you, as well as I wish you, and I doe truly wish you well. You will therefore pardon me for thus once playing the tutor, since I shall hereafter always be, Sir, your faithful friend and servant, 1797, Feb. JOHN LOCKE." XC. From John Evelyn, on the Culture and Improvement of the English Tongue. MR. URBAN, INCLOSED you receive an original letter from John Evelyn, Esq. the celebrated author of " the Royal Society. Sylva," to a Fellow of T. A. Sayes Court, Jan. 28. "SIR, ON contemplation of your laudable designe of reviving the committee formerly appointed by the R. S. to consider of the culture and improvement of the English tongue; I here, to make good my promise, send you what suggestions I had once prepared in order to it; and, if you could engage my Lord Arlington, and the politer greate men to favour it, they would easily obtaine of his Majesty some conveniency of meeting in the Court itself; which might not only prove an ornament to it, but render it a profitable diversion, perhaps emulous of the stage, not to say the pulpit, and, by degrees, introduce likewise a greater kindness towards the R. Society in general, as to their philosophical concerns, and place it beyond the power of that envy and detraction, under which it has so long laboured, for want of those influences, and its being better understood. But of these topics-upon some other occasion. I proceed to the subject in hand. And, first, I conceive the reason both of additions to, and the corruptions of, the English language (as of most other tongues,) |