a moft perfect Benevolence for the Party concern'd, but for nothing elfe in Nature; this fweet Refemblance being only Self at fecond hand. 'Tis however agreed, that if one loves one's Friend as one's Self, one does pretty well; and confequently the nearer the Refemblance, the more perfect will be the Union, fince there's nothing that has not a moft fincere Affection for itself. All this I grant, but then must add, that this Self-Affection, I fear, will go but a very little way, even in one Remove only from the Individual. The infinite Partiality we have for our real Selves, won't always extend itself to our fecond Selves; and we often commit Follies, and indulge Humours in our own Perfons, which are not half fo amiable in thofe of others, nor will admit of half the Excufes. Neither do I think a Sameness of Humours will mix and affociate fo well as their Contraries : like perfect Chords in Mufick, they rather tire than enliven. For inftance, two People are of a melancholy, or a choleric Difpofition. How fhall we enliven the Deficiency of Bile in the one, or correct its fuper-abundance in the other? Won't they both drop afleep, or fall together by the Ears? Suppofe they are equally endu'd with the Powers of Eloquence. May not they have an equal Inclination to speak at the fame time? And how painful muft it be to either Orator to hear? Or fuppofe (if you'll suffer me to fuppofe once more) they are a little given to Contradiction, like you and I; won't they often stand in need of a Moderator, and be forc'd to call in a third Perfon to adjust their Dif putes? In short, a Parity of Humours, or Sen

timents,

timents, must often render Conversation fade and infipid; and when we meet with nothing new, nothing but what we have at home, fuch a Friendship muft foon grow tedious and languishing. 'Tis fcarce worth going even fo far out of ourselves for. Befides, as our own Humours are fo uncertain and multifarious, it must, as you fay, be extremely liable to change; be indeed the most variable thing in Nature.

;

Let us fee then what fort of Friendship diffe rent Difpofitions will produce. And that we may not run away from our Argument, as You and I generally do, let us define our Terms. Friendship then, in my Definition of it, is a fweet Attraction of the Heart towards the Merit we esteem, or the Perfections we admire; and produces a mutual Inclination between two Perfons, to promote each other's Intereft or Happinefs. Now we none of us, I believe, will choose to affert that we poffefs all forts of Me. rit, and every Degree of Perfection ourfelves but most of us are fo humble as to own that we esteem it in others, and can be pleas'd with Perfections we do not poffefs. To a generous Mind, Merit, in whatever Shape it appears, is not only estimable, but attractive. By its Operations on the fympathetic Powers of our Nature, it calls forth the Affections of the Heart to meet it, and even byaffes the Judgment in favour of the whole Character. Thus when we fee a Patriot bleed in defence of his Country, we are not so anxious about his fpeaking in the House; we can for once allow, that 'tis not neceffary for a Patriot to be an Orator. I am myself an extreme Coward, (fave juft in Speculation) and have not the leaft Thirst for any

one's

one's Blood; but yet I turn away my Eyes from the Man who trembles at a Sword, and find myself attracted by the Hero. In fhort; the Mind, I fhould think, must receive an additional Pleafure in contemplating thofe Perfections in a Friend, which it has not within itself; and may, in effect, fancy itself the Proprietor or Poffeffor of thofe Advantages which adorn its other half.

But by this Difference or Diverfity of Humours or Characters, I would not be underftood to mean their Incompatability. Friend

ship could not long fubfift under this Disadvan tage; the Union must diffolve, and Aversion fucceed. But this Incompatability (I wish I could think of a shorter Word) does not always arife from the Difference, but the too great Uniformity of Humours. Thus two People equally haughty, peremptory, or pofitive, muft foon finish their Affairs; and yet thefe Difpofitions would mix extremely well with their Contraries.

Neither do I think Equality of Rank or Fortune neceffary to form a perfect Friendship. For perfect Friendship is founded on Virtue, on the Perfections of the Mind, or the Goodness of the Heart; and confults neither Title nor Fortune. It does not tye itfelf to the Genealogy, or the Rent-Roll, but to the Perfon. Our Superiours, as fuch, have a Right only to our Complaifance, and 'tis a Tribute that Decency allows 'em; but the Efteem which comes from the Heart, is due only to true Merit. The Great have a thousand ways of obliging or plaguing us; but they have but one of making themselves belov'd, and that is, by a Superiority of Merit. When they condefcend to rank this among their Advantages, they are truly amiable; they at

tract

tract, and are attracted. Their own Hearts are enlarg'd, the Object finds an eafy Admittance; they please, and are pleased, they have fo many ways of obliging. An Inferiour, however, fets out with many Difadvantages, which are not fo much his Demerits, as the neceffary Confequences of his Situation; has Requests to be gratify'd, or perhaps Humours to be indulg'd, as well as his Betters; and thefe may by degrees diffolve the Charm. But a Superiour may be oblig'd, and perhaps oftner infifts upon being pleas'd. If the former can wave his Pretenfions, refign his Intereft, or Humour, to his Friendship, he is no longer the Inferiour; his Generosity of Sentiment gives him his Rank, and entitles him to equal Indulgencies. But an Equality is often as fatal. Jealoufies, Emulations, and Oppofitions of Interefts, are Rocks upon which the firmeft Friendships have split. An Inequality, however, fteers clear of thefe; and if it has any other Wrecks to fear, they are no more than are common to both.

In fhort, true Friendship, found it upon what you will, can never fubfift long, but upon Senfe and Virtue. And whether we are of different or the fame Difpofitions, Equals or Inequals, have a narrow way of Thinking or no way at all, (for every thing will unite itfelf to fomewhat) when once the Mind has pafs'd its Judgment upon the Object, and the Heart has found its Attraction, it examines no farther, but takes the most effectual and speedy Methods of uniting itself to it.

I believe that laft Thought was none of my own; but, if 'tis not, I don't know who it belongs to; fo cannot pay the right Owner my Acknowledgments.

LET.

I

LETTER CXXI.

To the SAME.

Have had great Remorfe ever fince I wrote laft, in that I made a thousand Apologies for my Silence, as if it was a thing of vaft Confequence to you; and never once begged the Favour of a Reply, tho' it was the only End and Purpose I had in view when, I fat down to write. Did you ever fet out for a Place, and forget where you were going? or talk upon a Subject your Mind knows nothing of, but is all the while in deep Contemplation of fomething else? If you have, you have an Idea of your humble Servant in both thefe Situations; and even in this Inftant of Scribbling. For while I am collecting my scattered Ideas to fix on you, Lady Lovelace requires a Letter to be compos'd, concerning Tea, Drops, and other important Matters to our well-being; while my hard-to-be-gotten Frank requires a third to be inclos'd, of no lefs Importance to focial Happiness. In this Situation permit me to write to you, and not think of you; or rather to have my Thoughts too much interrupted, or terrified, to write to you with Pleasure. For at the fame time the Cloth is laying for Supper, on the very Table that fupports my Elbows and my Paper (which Mr. John every Moment officioufly difplaces) while the brandifh'd Knives and Forks put me in bodily Fear. In one Word, I have been here a Week, and have the utmoft Impatience to hear from you, which is all I mean by this, except that Windfor-Caftle, I am, &c. Sept. 30, 1744,

.

LET