SIR,

You look with the eyes, and speak the language of friendship, when you

make my life of much more concern to the world than your own. I take

it, as it is, for an effect of your kindness, and so shall not accuse

you of compliment; the mistakes and over-valuings of good-will being

always sincere, even when they exceed what common truth allows. This

on my side I must beg you to believe, that my life would be much more

pleasant and useful to me, if you were within my reach, that I might

sometimes enjoy your conversation, and, upon twenty occasions, lay

my thoughts before you, and have the advantage of your judgement. I

cannot complain that I have not my share of friends of all ranks, and

such, whose interest, assistance, affection, and opinions too, in fit

cases, I can rely on. But methinks, for all this, there is one place

vacant, that I know nobody that would so well fill as yourself; I want

one near me to talk freely with, _de quolibet ente_; to propose to

the extravagancies that rise in my mind; one with whom I would debate

several doubts and questions, to see what was in them. Meditating by

one's self, is like digging in the mine; it often, perhaps, brings up

maiden earth, which never came near the light before; but whether it

contains any metal in it, is never so well tried as in conversation

with a knowing judicious friend who carries about with him the true

touchstone, which is love of truth in a clear-thinking head. Men of

parts and judgement the world usually gets hold of, and by a great

mistake (that their abilities of mind are lost, if not employed in the

pursuit of wealth or power) engages them in the ways of fortune and

interest, which usually leave but little freedom or leisure of thought

for pure disinterested truth. And such who give themselves up frankly,

and in earnest to the full latitude of real knowledge, are not

everywhere to be met with. Wonder not, therefore, that I wish so much

for you in my neighbourhood; I should be too happy in a friend of your

make, were you within my reach. But yet I cannot but wish that some

business would once bring you within distance; and it is a pain to me

to think of leaving the world without the happiness of seeing you.

I do not wonder that a kinsman of yours should magnify civilities that

scarce deserve the name; I know not wherein they consisted, but in

being glad to see one that was in any way related to you, and was

himself a very ingenious man; either of those was a title to more than

I did, or could show him. I am sorry I have not yet had an opportunity

to wait on him in London; and I fear he should be gone before I am

able to get thither. This long winter, and cold spring, has hung very

heavy upon my lungs, and they are not yet in a case to be ventured in

London air, which must be my excuse for not waiting upon him and Dr.

Ashe yet.

The third edition of my essay has already, or will be speedily, in the

press. But what perhaps will seem stranger, and possibly please you

better, an abridgement is now making (if it be not already done) by

one of the university of Oxford, for the use of young scholars, in the

place of the ordinary system of logic. From the acquaintance I had of

the temper of that place I did not expect to have it get much footing

there. But so it is, I some time since received a very civil letter

from one, wholly a stranger to me there, concerning such a design; and

by another from him since, I conclude it near done. He seems to be an

ingenious man, and he writes sensibly about it, but I can say nothing

of it till I see it; and he, of his own accord, has offered that it

shall be wholly submitted to my opinion, and disposal of it. And thus,

sir, possibly that which you once proposed may be attained to, and I

was pleased with the gentleman's design for your sake.

You are a strange man, you oblige me very much by the care you take

to have it well translated, and you thank me for complying with your

offer. In my last, as I remember, I told you the reason why it was

so long before I writ, was an expectation of an answer from London,

concerning something I had to communicate to you: it was in short

this; I was willing to know what my bookseller would give for a good

latin copy; he told me, at last, twenty pounds. His delay was, because

he would first have known what the translator demanded. But I forced

him to make his proposal, and so I send it to you, to make what use of

it you please. He since writ me word, that a friend of his at Oxford

would, in some time, be at leisure to do it, and would undertake it. I

bid him excuse himself to him, for that it was in hands I approved of,

and some part of it now actually done. For I hope the essay (he was to

show you the next week after you writ to me last) pleased you. Think

it not a compliment, that I desire you to make what alterations you

think fit. One thing particularly you will oblige me and the world in,

and that is, in paring off some of the superfluous repetitions, which

I left in for the sake of illiterate men, and the softer sex, not used

to abstract notions and reasonings. But much of this reasoning will

be out of doors in a latin translation. I refer all to your judgement,

and so am secure it will be done as is best.

What I shall add concerning enthusiasm, I guess, will very much agree

with your thoughts, since yours jump so right with mine, about the

place where it is to come in, I having designed it for chap. 18, lib.

iv, as a false principle of reasoning often made use of. But, to give

an historical account of the various ravings men have embraced for

religion, would, I fear, be besides my purpose, and be enough to make

an huge volume.

My opinion of P. Malebranche agrees perfectly with yours. What I

have writ concerning 'seeing all things in God', would make a little

treatise of itself. But I have not quite gone through it, for fear

I should by somebody or other be tempted to print it. For I love not

controversies, and have a personal kindness for the author. When I

have the happiness to see you, we will consider it together, and you

shall dispose of it.

I think I shall make some other additions to be put into your latin

translation, and particularly concerning the 'connection of ideas',

which has not, that I know, been hitherto considered, and has, I

guess, a greater influence upon our minds than is usually taken notice

of. Thus, you see, I make you the confident of my reveries; you would

be troubled with a great many more of them, were you nearer.