round me; or rather, like Promotheus's Man of Clay, "Iftand unmov'd, and wait, in dull Sufpence, "Thy heav'nly Charms, to warm me into "Senfe." I can, no more than you, determine, whether it is kind, or cruel, to prolong the Life of your little Favourite. What does it fubfift on, during the Time of it's natural Exiftence? If you know, and can provide it with natural Suftenance, we may fuppofe it dies only for Want of the Sun's Heat; then, to revive it with an artificial Warmth cannot be Cruelty: But if it's Food, as I believe, be of the Summer's Pride, and is not now to be found in the vegetable World, I fear the poor little Infect fuffers by your Fondness, as Annihilation is preferable to Mifery. Befides, I fancy a Butterfly does not die; but, according to the Pythagorean System, changes it's Form, and Being. This I am not quite clear in; though I have met with fome poetical Simile, that warrants this Opinion. To confider our prefent State of Existence, as rational Beings, who hope for a glorious Immortality, it must appear the highest Act of Folly to aim at lengthening it, even for a Moment: It is as abfurd, as to suppose a Prisoner should defire to continue in a Dungeon, when he may have Liberty to quit it, and enjoy all the Delights of Life: Yet were there any Perfon, Perfon, who had been born and bred in fuch a difmal Situation, that had entered into Ties and Connections with Wretches, as unhappy as himself, he would, I dare fay, feel a strong Reluctance at entering into a happier State, when he must part from thofe, who had been Partners in his Misery, and all the Solace of it. So we, though Providence has wifely ordered, that Difappointments, Pain, and Lofs of Friends should, by Degrees, unloofe the Hold we take of this dim Spot; that our Loves, our Friendfhips, should be torn asunder; that even our Defies and Paffions should decay, and leave us scarce a Wish on Earth; yet stripped of, and abandoned by all, that makes Life pleasing; left, as it were, naked, on a barren Shore; when we have nothing else to grafp at, we lay Hold on our own frail and feverish Beings, and seem to find a Pain, in being separated from Pain. There are five or fix People talking round me. It is impoffible for me to know what I write: But this I know, that I live but in the earnest Hope of being your's here and hereafter, Frances, LETTER LETTER CCIII. My Dear FANNY, You OU may fee, by my Paper, that I am not at home, and confequently have not your laft Letter with me, to anfwer; therefore you can expect no other Reason for my writing to you now, but to fhew you I would not neglect it, even for one Poft, though, unprepared with my beft Help, your Love-infpiring, Senfe-inditing Epiftles. The - dined with me To-day, and hurried me home with them this Evening. I would have excufed myself, but that I avoid the Appearance of any thing which looks queer; and I am apt to suspect, that a Perfon has but the Appearance of Senfe, Courage, or Philofophy, who affects to manifest them upon trifling Occafions. I declare that I have, of late, so entirely given myself up to the charming Pleasures of Solitude, that I begin to endure Company, as one plays a bad Hand of Cards, not for the Enjoyment of the Sport, but merely to keep one's Self within the Game. This Turn of Mind has fometimes fo alarmed me, that I have argued the Point with myself, pro and con; but have declared for the Pleasures of retired and philofophic Leisure, upon this Reasoning, Reasoning, that it is poffible fome Accident or Misfortune of Life may hereafter deprive me of the Enjoyment of Society; for few and rare Friends are found at the Poor, the Sick, or the Prifoner's Levee; but Death alone can rob me of the Heart-approving, rational Joys of Soli tude. If I quitted the Converse of the World out of an Auftereness of Manners, or a Severity of Morals, I might justly appear in the uncouth and unphilofophic Light of a Mifanthrope; but when I retire, in order to prepare myself for a better, I seem to myself to act the Part of one, who takes a larger Scope in view, than the scanty Horizon of this narrow Globe. I retire, to converse with you, and to make Affignations with thee, my charming Seraph, where I fhall have Myriads of unjealous Rivals in thy Love, in the Harmony of thy Senfe and Virtue, you alone, who can make me endure Society; as it was you only, who have infpired me with thofe Helps, which can enable me to live alone. You need not be apprehenfive, that such ab ftracted Speculations, as these, can ever abate the Warmth of my Affection to you; for what is my Love to my dearest Fanny, but that Tafte for Virtue, which I hinted at, in a former Letter, and that high Admiration for Beauty, Harmony, and Order, which is the proper Contemplation of the truly philofophic Mind? So that even my Relish for every thing that is amiable, may be confidered It is confideréd but as a Part of that Love and Efteem, which I bear to you. I flipt away from Cards to write to you; and the Bell rings for Supper: So I muft unwillingly conclude my Letter; though most willingly conclude myself, my charming Girl, Ever your's, Henry. LETTER CCIV. My Dear FANNY, TH HE Dependence, you exprefs, upon my doing every thing for our mutual Happiness, was not neceffary to encourage me to do fo, upon all Occafions; but, if I needed any Inducement, that Confidence alone would be fufficient to oblige me to it; and I fhall never attempt to over-rule your Will, but to better inform it; or the more effectually to answer the great End of all my Thoughts and Actions, namely, your Happiness and Establishment, and my own, only through fuch charming Means. My not going to London before this, is one Inftance, I may give, that I prefer both our Interests, before our Pleasure; and, if I have not fixed the Day, at your frequent Request, it is VOL. II. E because |