Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

peace and happinefs of mankind is the great aim of thefe free-thinkers; and, therefore, as thofe among them, who remain incredulous, will not oppofe you, fo thofe, whom reafon, enlightened by grace, has made believers, may be forry, and may express their forrow, as I have done, to fee religion perverted to purposes, fo contrary to her true intention, and firft defign. Can a good Christian behold the minifters of the meek and humble Jefus, exercifing an infolent and cruel ufurpation over their brethren? Or the meffengers of peace and good news, fetting all mankind VOL. XV. together

H h

out of the mouth of that wild beaft, man. Exprefsly to direct the publication of writings, which, he believed, would fubvert the morals and the happiness of fociety, at a time when he could derive no private advantage from the mifchief, was perhaps an act of wickednefs more purely diabolical, than any hitherto upon record in the history of any age or nation. Mallet had a pecuniary temptation to aflaffinate the morals and happinefs of his country, at Bolingbroke's inftigation: His crime therefore is not equally a proof of natural depravity, though it is impoffible to fuppofe he had lefs conviction of the mifchief he was doing; and it is alfo impoffible to fuppofe, that he could ferioully think any obligation to print Bolingbroke's infidelity, in confequence of his injunction, equivalent to the obligation he was under to fupprefs it, arifing from the duty, which, as a man, he owed to human nature.

The paragraph in Lord Bolingbroke's will, by which his writings are bequeathed to Mallet; the letter, which Lord Cornbury wrote to Mallet, upon hearing he was abou, to publish the letters, including thofe on Sacred Hiftory, and Mallet's anfwer, are, for the reader's fatisfaction, printed at the end of this collection. Lord Cornbury's letter is a monument, that will do more honour to his memory, than all that mere wit or valour has atchieved fince the world began.

together by the ears? Or that religion, which breathes charity and univerfal benevolence, fpilling more blood, upon reflection, and by system, than the most barbarous Heathen ever did, in the heat of action, and fury of conqueft? Can he behold all this without an holy indignation, and not be criminal? Nay, when he turns his eyes from thofe tragical feeñes, and confiders the ordinary tenour of things, do you not think he will be shocked to obferve metaphyfics fubftituted to the theory, and ceremony to the practice of moralty?

I make no doubt but you are by this time abundantly convinced of my orthodoxy, and that you will name me no more in the fame breath with Spinofa, whofe fyftem of one infinite fubftance I defpife and abhor, as I have a right to do, because I am able to fhew why I defpife and abhor it.

You defire me to return home; and you promife me, in that cafe, to come to London, loaden with your travels. I am forry to tell you, that London is, in my apprehenfion, as little likely as Dublin to be our place of rendezvous. The reafons for this apprehenfion I pafs over; but I cannot agree to what you advance with the air of a maxim, that exile is the greatest punishment to men of virtue, becaufe virtue confifts in loving our country. Examine the nature of this love, from whence it arifes, how it is nourished, what the bounds and measures of it are; and that, you will difcover, how far it is virtue, and where it becomes

becomes fimplicity, prejudice, folly, and even enthufiafm. A virtuous man in exile, may properly enough be ftiled unfortunate, but he cannot be called unhappy. You remember the reafon which Brutus gave, becaufe, wherever he goes, he carries his virtue with him. There is a certain bulky volume, which grows daily, and the title of which muft, I think, be Noctes Gallica. There you may perhaps one day or other fee a differtation upon this fubject: And to return you. threatening for threatening, you fhall be forced to read it out, though you yawn from the first to the last page.

The word Ireland was ftruck out of the paper you mention; that is, to fatisfy your curiofity, and to kindle it a-new, I will tell you, that this anecdote, which I know not how you came by, is neither the only one, nor the most confiderable one of the fame kind. The perfon you are fo inquifitive about *, returns into England the latter end of October. She has fo great a-mind to fee. you, that I am not fure fhe will not undertake a journey to Dublin. It is not fo far from London to Dublin, as from Spain to Padua; and. you are as well worth feeing as Livy. But I had much rather you would leave the humid climate, and the dull company, in which, according to your account, a man might grow old between twenty and thirty. Set your foot on that continent; I dare promife, that you will, in a fortHh 2

His Lordship's fecond wife, a French Lady.

night,

night, have gone back the ten years you lament fo much, and be returned to that age, at which I left you. With what pleafure fhould I hear you inter vina fugam Stelle mærere proterva ?

Adieu.

LETTER

CCCXXVII.

EDWARD EARL OF OXFORD TO DR SWIFT.

GOOD MR DEAN,

Wimpole, Nov. 2, 1724.

HERE has nothing of late given me fo

THE

much real trouble and uneafinefs, as my having fo long deferred writing to you, to make my acknowledgements for your moft kind letter; and to affure you, that I took every part of your obliging letter, in the manner you would with me to do: I must fay, that amidft my grief and concern, it gave me a fecret pleafure to find, that I was thought of by you; and, what was a great addition, that you ftill retained the fame thoughts and fentiments of my dear father, and that you had not laid afide the defign you once entertained, of transmitting his name and story to pofterity. I did delay writing-fome time, becaufe I was in great hopes I fhould have been able to have given you a much more fatisfactory account than I am now able to give, notwithstanding the fearch I have made in anfwer to your question, If he had left any memoirs behind him;” I fup

[ocr errors]

pofe

pofe you mean in relation to himself. I have not yet been able to find any among his papers in town. This, with fome other affairs, drew the time into the length it is; but I affure you, if I have the fatisfaction to hear from you again, (as Ihope I fhall), I will be more punctual in my returns; for I will allow nobody to value and esteemyou more than I do.

There is certainly a very great number of ma terials for a history, a vaft collection of letters and other papers, a great deal may be supplied elsewhere: But give me leave to say, that if you do not come into England, nothing can be done; it will not be poffible to do any thing to purpose. Without this view, there would be no body more welcome to me than yourfelf; you should live in your own way, and do just what was moft agreeable to you: I have houfes enough, you fhall take your choice: I muft with earneftnefs repeat it to you again, that I beg you will think of this. matter feriously.

As to what you mention of the picture, I have often heard my father fay, that he did defign to fit for you, but did not: I fhall certainly take care that you fhall have a picture, and a good one. Pray let me know what fize you would have it of: If you defign it fhould fit any particular place, you must fend me the exact meafüre of the place.

Your fifter*.

*Lady Oxford.

as

you >

ufed to call her, is much Hh3

your

« VorigeDoorgaan »