Meflenger that conveyed the welcome Invitation to my Ear? What melodious Voice called me away from yonder cold tempeltuous Regions, to these foft and peaceful Habitations? How have I found my Paffage through the trackless Ether, and gained the Summit of the everlafting Hills? Am I awake? Do I dream? Is this. a gay, a fluttering Vision? Oh, no! 'tis all blissful and transporting. Certainly! I fee, I hear Things unuttrable, fuch as never entered into the Heart of mortal Man to conceive. Read and believe; believe and Le happy. You fee, my dear Sifter, how blindly you repine at the Decrees of Heaven, and how unreasonably you lament what you call my early and untimely Fate. Could I be happy too foon? I left the World, indeed, in the full Pride of my youthful Years, in the Height of Greatnefs and Reputation, furrounded with the Blandifhments and Flatteries of Pleafure: But these Advantages might have been fatal Snares to my Virtue in a longer Trial; it was indulgent Heaven, after a fhort Probation, to crown me with the Reward of Victory: 'Tis paft the Toil, the Danger is over; and all to come is endless Peace and Triumph. If you could fee as far into Futurity now, and think.. as juftly of it as you will certainly do on your DeathBed, this Letter from me had been fuperfluous I only can design it beneficial; you may make it fo. LETTER XXIII. A Letter from Ariftus, giving his Friend a Relation of the Judden Death of his Bride, who was feized in the Chapel. while the facred Rites were performing. M Y Fate will furnish you with a full Evidence of the Vanity of human Happinefs: My laft Letter was wrote in the Height of Succefs, with the most ar. rogant Expectations and Boaft of a lafting Felicity; now 'tis all changed, and the Shadows of Night come over me. The lovely Ermina, whom I had fo long purfued, and at laft perfuaded to crown my Wishes, the very Morning the gave me her Hand, before the facred CeK 5 remony. remony was finished, was furprized with the fatal Meffage of Death, and carried in a Swoon from the Chapel to her Chamber, where the foon expired in her Mother's Arms This Hour the appeared with all the Coft and Splendor of a youthful Bride; the next she is pale and fenfelels, muffled in a ghaftly Shroud: Thofe Charms, that in the Morning promifed an eternal Bloom, before the Evening have dropped their fmiling Pride; the fparkling Eyes are funk in Darkness; the foft, the tuneful Voice, is for ever filent; while a livid Hue fits on the late rofy Lips. Thus airy Pleafure dances in our Eyes, Till they are left to Shades, and mingle with the Night. O Death! how cruel was thy Triumph! Youth and Beauty, Joy and blooming Hope, lie here a Victim to thy Rage: The darkfome Prifon of thy Grave_muft now confine the gentle Captive; instead of the Pomp of a bridal Bed, the cold Earth must be her Lodging, Duft and Corruption her Covering. You will now expect I fhould practife the Principles I have fo often afferted, in exercifing my boafted Reaen and Moderation; or leave you to infult me with the Arguments I lately produced, to allay your Grief, under the Preffure of an uncommon Misfortune: This Reproach would be but juft at a Period when Heaven has given me a full Evidence of the Truths I confeffed; and fet Vanity of human Hopes in the clearest Demonstration before me. One would think I should now, if ever, find it eafy to moralize on thefe Subjects, and act the Philofopher from meer Neceffity, if not from Virtue. Were the. Cafe your's, or any Body's but my own, how many wife Things fhould I repeat! How fluently, could I talk! So much more eafy is it to dictate than to practife: And yet I am reafonable by Intervals; I am in more than Name a Chriftian; in fome bright Pe riods, I feel the Force of that Profeffion, and pay Homage to its facred Rules: A heavenly Ray fcatters my Grief, and cheers my Soul with divine Confolations: The gay and the gloomy Appearances of mortal Things vanish before the Gleams of celeftial Light: Immortal Pleasures, with gentle Invitations, call me to the Skies, and all my Thoughts afcend. But how fhort my Triumph! how eafy the Tran fition from Reafon to Madnels! Of what furprising. Variety is a human Mind capable! Light and Darknefs, Heaven and Hell, feem blended within, 'tis allChaos, and wild Disorder: That Reafon which one: Moment relieves me, the next feems with a juft Train of Ideas to torment me. See, there, all pale and dead fhe lies; Faith, Sweetness, Wit, together join'd. Dwelt Faith, and Wit, and Sweetness there? Oh! view the Change, and drop a Tear. Adieu. LETTER XXIV.. From Mr. Pope, to Mr. Addifon. Have been lying in wait for my own Imagination this Week and more, and watching what Thoughts come up in the Whirl of Fancy, that were worth communicating to you in a Letter But I am at length convinced that my rambling Head can produce. nothing of this Sort; fo Imuft e'en be contented with telling you the old Story, that I love you heartily. I have often found by Experience, that Nature and Truth, though never fo low and vulgar, are yet pleafing, when openly and artlefly reprefented: It would be diverting to me to read the very Letters of an Infant, could it write its innocent Inconfiftencies and Tautologies, juft as it thought them. This makes me hope a Letter from me will not be unwelcome to you, when I am conicious I write with more Unreservedness than ever Man wrote, or perhaps talked to another. I trust your Good-Nature with the whole Range of my Follies, and really love you fo well, that I would rather you fhould pardon me than efteem me; fince one is an Act of Goodnefs and Benevolence; the other a Kind of constrained Deference. You can't wonder my Thoughts are scarce confistent, when I tell you how they are distracted. Every Hour of my Life my Mind is ftrangely divided; this Minute perhaps I am above the Stars, with a Thoufand Syftems round about me, looking forward into a vast Abyfs, and lofing my whole Comprehenfion in the boundless Space of Creation, in Dialogues with Whis ton and the Aftronomers; the next Moment I am below all Trifles, grovelling with T. in the very Center of Nonfenfe! Now I am recreated with the brifk Sallies and quick Turns of Wit, which Mr. Steel in his livelieft and freeft Humours dart about him; and now levelling my Application to the infignificant Obfervations and Quirks of Grammar of C, and D. Good God! what an incongruous Animal is Man! how unfettled in his beft Part, his Soul; and how changing and variable in his Frame of Body? The Conttancy of the one fhook by every other Notion, the Temperament of the other affected by every Blaft of Wind! What is he altogether but one mighty Inconfiftency; Sickness and Pain is the Lot of one Half of him: Doubt and Fear the Portion of the other! What a Buftle we make about paffing our Time, when all our Space is but a Point? What Aims and Ambitions are crowded into this little Instant of our Life, which (as Shakespear finely words it) is rounded with a Sleep? Our whole Extent of Being is no more, in the Eye of him who gave it, than a fcarce perceptible Moment of Duration. Thofe Animals, whofe Circle of living is limited to three or four Hours, as the Naturalifts tell us, are yet as long lived, and poffefs as wide a Scene of Adion as Man, if we consider him with a View to all Space, and all Eternity. Who knows what Plots, what Atchievements a Mite may perform in his King dom dom of a Grain of Duft, within his Life of fome Minutes? And of how much lefs Confideration than even this, is the Life of Man in the Sight of God, who is for ever, and for ever. 1 Who that thinks in this Strain but muft fee the World and its contemptible Grandeurs leffen before him at every Thought? 'Tis enough to make one remain ftupified in a Poife of Inaction, void of all Defires, of all Defigns, of all Friendships. But we must return (thro' our very Condition of Being) to our narrow felves, and thofe Things that affect ourfelves Our Paffions, our Interefts, flow in upon us, and unphilofophize us into mere Mortals. For my Part, I never return fo much into myself as when I think of yo, whofe Friendship is one of the best Comforts I have for the Infignificancy of myself. I am yours, &c. LETTER XXV. The following Letter was written by a Gentlewoman to her Hufband, who was condemned to fuffer Death. The unfortunate Catastrophe happened at Exeter, in the Time of Oliver's Ujurpation. A Gentleman, whofe Name was Penruddock, to whom the Letter was written, was barbarously fentenced to die without the leaft Appearance of Juftice. He afferted the Illegality of his Enemies Proceeding, with a Spirit worthy his Innocence; and the Night before his Death, his Lady wrote to him this Letter, which is fo much admired, and is as follows. Mrs. Penruddock's laft Letter to her Hufband. My dear Heart, My fad Parting was fo far from making me forget you, that I fcarce thought upon myself fince, but wholly upon you. Thofe dear Embraces which I yet feel, and fhall never lofe, being the faithful Teltimonies of an indulgent Hufband, have charmed my Soul to fuch a Reverence of your Remembrance, that were it poffible, I would, with my own Blood, cement your dear Limbs to Life again; and (with Reverence) think |