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I was thought a Divine, a Philosopher, and what not; and my doctrine had a fanćtion I could not have given to it. Whether I can proceed in the same grave march like Lucretius, or must descend to the gayeties of Horace, I know not, or whether I can do either ? but be the future as it will, I shall collect all the past in one fair quarto this winter, and send it you, where
will find frequent mention of yourself. I was glad you suffer'd your writings to be collected more completely than hitherto, in the volumes I daily expect from Ireland : I wish'd it had been in more pomp, but that will be done by others : yours are beauties, that can never be too finely drest, for they will ever be young. I have only one piece of mercy to beg of you; do not laugh at my gravity, but permit me to wear the beard of a Philosopher, till I; pull it off, and make a jest of it myself. "Tis
Lord B. is doing with Metaphyfics. I hope, you will live to see, and stare at the learned figure he will make, on the same Thelf with Locke and Malbranche.
You see how I talk to you (for this is not writing) if you like I
like I should do so, why not tell me fo? if it be the least pleasure to you, I will write once a week most gladly; but can you abstract the letters from the person who writes them, so far, as not to feel more vexaVol. IX.
tion in the thought of our separation, and those misfortunes which occasion it, than satisfaction in the Nothings he can express ? If you can, really and from my heart, I cannot. again to melancholy. Pray, however, tell me, is it a satisfaction that will make it one to me; and we will Think alike, as friends ought, and you
shall hear from me punctually just when
P. S. Our friend, who is just returned from a progress of three months, and is setting out in three days with me for the Bath, where he will stay till towards the middle of October, left this letter with me yesterday, and I cannot seal and dispatch it till I have fcribled the remainder of this page
full. He talks very pompously of my Metaphysics, ahd places them in a very honourable station. It is true, I have writ fix letters and an half to him on subjects of that kind, and I propose a letter and an half more, which would swell the whole up to a considerable volume. But he thinks me fonder of the Name of an Author than I am. When he and you, and one or two other friends have seen them, fatis magnum Theatrum mihi estis, I shall not have the itch of making them more publica. I
a We see by this that an bendi : the second eruption Author knows as little how | being as virulent and infis to subdue the cacoëthes pub- | nitely more fatal to Au-, licandi, as the caccëthes fcri- thorship than the first.
know how little regard you pay to writings of this kind. But I imagine that if you can like any such, it must be those that strip Metaphysics of all their bombast, keep within the light of every well-constituted Eye, and never bewilder themselves whilst they pretend to guide the reason of others. I writ to you a long letter some time ago, and sent it by the post. Did it come to your hands? or did the inspectors of private correspondence stop it, to revenge themselves of the ill faid of them in it? Vale & me ama.
LET TER LXXII.
From Dr. SWIFT.
Nov. 1, 1734.
Lord B's Postscript of September 15: it was long on its way,
and for some weeks after the date I was very ill with my two inveterate disorders, giddiness and deafness. The latter is pretty well off; but the other makes me totter towards evenings, and much difpirits' me.
But I continue to ride and walk, both of which, although they be no cures, are at least amusements. I did never imagine you to be either inconstant, or to want right notions of friendship, but I apprehend your want of health; and it hath been a frequent wonder to me how you
have been able to entertain the world so long, so frequently, so happily, under so many bodily diforders. My Lord B. says you have been three months rambling, which is the best thing you can possibly do in a summer season; and when the winter recalls you, we will, for our own interests, leave you to your speculations. God be thanked I have done with every thing, and of every kind that requires writing, except now and then á letter, or like a true old man, scribling trifles only fit for children or school-boys of the lowest class at best, which three or four of us read and laugh at to-day, and burn tomorrow, Yet, what is singular, I never am without some great work in view, enough to take up forty years of the most vigorous healthy man: although I am convinced that I shall never be able to finish three Treatises, that have lain by me several years, and want nothing but correction. My Lord B. said in his Postscript, that you would
to Bath in three days: we since heard that you were dangerously ill there, and that the news-mungers gave you over. But a gentleman of this kingdom, on his return from Bath, assured me he left you well, and so did some others whom I have forgot. I am
forry 261 forry at my heart that you are pestered with people who come in my name, and I profess to you, it is without my knowledge. I am confident I shall hardly ever have occasion again to recommend, for my friends here are very few, and fixed to the free-hold, from whence nothing but death will remove them. Surely I never doubted about your Essay on Man; and I would lay any odds, that I would never fail to discover
had a mind to write below or beside yourself on purpose. I confess I did never imagine you were so deep in Morals, or that so many new and excellent rules could be produced so advantageously and agreeably in that science, from any one head. I confess in some places I was forced to read twice; I believe I told you before what the Duke of D-faid to me on that occasion, How a judge here, who knows you, told him that on the first reading those Essays, he was much pleased, but found some lines a little dark: On the second most of them clear'd up, and his pleasure encreased : On the third he had no doubt remain'd, and then he admir'd the whole. My Lord B-'s attempt of reducing Metaphysics to intelligible sense and ufefulness, will be a glorious undertaking, and as I never knew him fail in any thing he at