blind. I am perfuaded your wig had never fuffered this criticism, but on the fcore of your head, and the two eyes that are în it.

Pray, when you write to me, talk of yourself; there is nothing I fo much defire to hear of: talk a great deal of yourfelf; that he who I always thought talked beft, may speak upon the beft fubject. The thrines and reliques you tell me of, no way engage my curiofity; I had ten times rather go on pilgrimage to fee one fuch face as yours, than both St. John Baptift's heads. I wifh (fince you are grown fo covetous of golden things) you had not only all the fine statues you talk of, but even the golden image which Nebuchadnezzar fet up, provided you were to travel no farther than you could carry it.

The court of Vienna is very edifying. The ladies, with refpect to their husbands, feem to underftand that text literally, that commands to bear one another's burdens: but, I fancy, many a man there is like Ifachar, an ass between two burdens. I fhall look upon you no more as a Chriftian, when you pass from that charitable court to the land of jealoufy. I expect to hear an exact account how, and at what places, you leave one of the thirtynine articles after another, as you approach to the land of infidelity. Pray how far are you got already? Amidft the pomp of a high mafs, and the

ravishing

ravishing trills of a Sunday opera, what did you think of the doctrine and discipline of the church of England? Had you from your heart a reve rence for Sternhold and Hopkins? How did your Christian virtues hold out in fo long a voyage? You have, it seems (without paffing the bounds of Christendom), out-travelled the fin of fornication: in a little time you'll look upon fome others with more patience than the ladies here are capable of, I reckon, you'll time it fo well as to make your religion last to the verge of Christendom, that you may difcharge your Chaplain (as humanity requires) in a place where he may find fome buff nefs.

I doubt not but I fhall be told (when I come te follow you through thofe countries) in how pretty, a manner you accommodated yourself to the cuf toms of the true Musulmen. They will tell me at what town you practised to fit on the Sopha, at what village you learned to fold a Turban, where you was bathed and anointed, and where you parted with your black full-bottom. How happy muft it be for a gay young woman, to live in a country where it is a part of religious worship to be giddy-headed! I fhall hear at Belgrade how the good Bafhaw received you with tears of joy, how he was charmed with your agreeable manner of pronouncing the words Allah and Mubamed; and how earnestly you joined with him in exhorting your friend to embrace that religon. But I think

his

his objection was a juft one; that it was attended with fome circumftances under which he could not properly reprefent his Britannic Majefty.

Laftly, I fhall hear how, the first night you lay at Perd, you had a vifion of Mahomet's Paradise, and happily awaked without a foul; from which bleffed moment the beautiful body was left at full liberty to perform all the agreable functions it was made for.

I fee I have done in this letter, as I often have done in your company; talked myself into a good humour, when I begun in an ill one: the pleafure of addreffing to you makes me run on; and 'tis in your power to shorten this letter as much as you pleafe, by giving over when you please: fo I'll make it no longer by apologies.

IBID. p. 122.

SICKNESS.

YOU formerly obferved to me, that nothing made a more ridiculous figure in a man's life, than the difparity we often find in him, fick and well: thus one of an unfortunate conftitution is perpetually exhibiting a miserable example of the weakness of his mind, and of his body, in their turns. I have had frequent opportunities of late to confider myself in these different views; and, I hope, have received fome advantage by it, if what Waller fays, be true, that

The

The foul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,

Lets in new light thro' chinks that time has made.

Then furely fickness, contributing no less than oldage to the shaking down this scaffolding of the body, may discover the inward ftructure more plainly. Sicknefs is a fort of early old-age; it teaches us a diffidence in our earthly ftate, and infpires us with the thoughts of a future, better than a thoufand volumes of philofophers and divines. It gives fo warning a concuffion to those props of our vanity, our strength and youth, that we think of fortifying ourfelves within, when there is fo little dependence upon our outworks. Youth, at the very best, is but a betrayer of human life in a gentler and smoother manner than age; 'tis like a stream that nourishes a plant upon a bank, and caufes it to flourish and bloffom to the fight, but at the fame time is undermining it at the root in fecret. My youth has dealt more fairly and openly with me, it has afforded feveral profpects of my danger, and given me an advantage not very common to young men, that the attractions of the world have not dazzled me very much; and I begin, where moft people end, with a full conviction of the emptinefs of all forts of ambition, and the unfatisfactory nature of all human pleasures. When a fmart fit of ficknefs tells me this fcurvy tenement of my body will fall in a little time, I am e'en as unconcerned as was that honest Hibernian, who being in bed in the great ftorm fome years ago, and told the houfe would tumble over his head, made answer, What care I for the houfe?

houfe? I am only a lodger. I fancy 'tis the best time to die when one is in the best humour: and fo exceffively weak as I now am, I may fay with conscience, that I am not at all uneafy at the thought, that

many men, whom I never had any esteem for, are likely to enjoy this world after me. When I reflect what an inconfiderable little atom every fingle man is, with refpect to the whole creation, methinks 'tis a fhame to be concerned at the removal of fuch a trivial animal as I am. The morning after my exit, the fun will rife as bright as ever, the flowers fmell as fweet, the plants fpring as green, the world will proceed in its old course, people will laugh as heartily, and marry as faft, as they were used to do. The memory of man (as it is elegantly expreffed in the Book of Wisdom) passeth away as the remembrance of a gucft that tarrieth but one day. There are reasons enough, in the fourth chapter of the fame book, to make any young man contented with the profpect of death. "For honourable age is not that which standeth in

length of time, or is meafured by number of years: But wifdom is the grey hair to men; and an unfpotted life is old-age. He was taken away speedily, left wickedness fhould alter his understanding, or deceit beguile his foul." &c."