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that which he demands by the voice of reason, and into his hands let us peaceably furrender our fouls.

Such are the liberal precepts which good fenfe dictates to every man, and which religion authorizes*. Let us apply these precepts to ourselves. You have condefcended to disclose your mind to me; I am acquainted with your uneafinefs; you do not endure lefs than myself; and your troubles, like mine, are incurable; and they are

A ftrange letter this for the difcuffion of fuch a subject! Do men argue fo coolly on a queftion of this nature, when they examine it on their own accounts? Is the letter a forgery, or does the author reafon only with an intent to be refuted? What makes our opinion in this particular dubious, is the example of Robeck, which he cites, and which feems to war rant his own. Robeck deliberated fo gravely that he had patience to write a book, a large, voluminous, weighty, and difpaffionate book; and when he had concluded, according to his principles, that it was lawful to put an end to our being, he deftroyed himfelf with the fame compofure that he wrote. Let us beware of the prejudices, of the times, and of particular countries. When fuicide is out of fashion we conclude that none but madmen deftroy themselves; and all the efforts of courage appear chimerical to daftardly minds; every one judges of others by himself. Nevertheless, how many inftances are there, well attefted, of men, in every other refpect perfectly difcreet, who, without remorfe, rage, or defpair, have quitted life for no other reafon than because it was a burden to them and have died with more compofure than they lived?

the more remedilefs, as the laws of honor are more immutable than thofe of fortune. You bear them, I must confefs, with fortitude. Virtue fupports you; advance but one ftep farther, and the difengages you. You intreat me to suffer; my lord, I dare importune you to put an end to your fufferings; and I leave you to judge which of us is most dear to the other.

Why should we delay doing that which we muft do at laft? fhall we wait till old age and decrepit baseness attach us to life after they have robbed it of its charms, and till we are doomed to drag an infirm and decrepit body with labor and ignominy, and pain? We are at

Let

an age when the foul has vigor to difengage itself with ease from its fhackles, and when a man knows how to die as he ought; when farther advanced in years, he fuffers himself to be torn from life, which he quits with reluctance. us take advantage of this time, when the tedium of life makes death defirable; and let us tremble for fear it fhould come in all its horrors, at the moment when we could with to avoid it. I remember the time, when I prayed to heaven only for a fingle hour of life, and when I fhould have died in despair if it had not been granted. Ah! what a pain it is to burft afunder the ties which attach our hearts to this world and how advisable it is to quit life the moment the connexion is broken! I am fenfible, my lord, that we are both worthy of a purer manfion; virtue points it out, and destiny invites us

to feek it. May the friendship which invites us preserve our union to the latest hour! O what a pleasure for two fincere friends voluntary to end their days in each other's arms, to intermingle their latest breath, and at the fame inftant to give up the foul which they fhared in common! What pain, what regret can infect their last moments? What do they quit by taking leave of the world? They go together; they quit nothing.

LETTER CXV.

63

ANSWER.

THOU art diftracted, my friend by a fatal

passion; be more discreet: do not give counsel, whilft thou ftandeft fo much in need of advice. I have known greater evils than yours. I am armed with fortitude of mind; I am an Englishman, and not afraid to die; but I know how to live and fuffer as becomes a man. I have feen death near at hand, and have viewed it with too much indifference to go in fearch of it.

It is true, I thought you might be of use to me; my affection ftood in need of yours: your endeavours might have been ferviceable to me; your understanding might have enlightened me in the most important concern of my life; if I do not avail myfelf of it, who are you to impute it to? Where is it? What is become of it? What are you capable of? Of what use can you be in your prefent condition? What service can I expect from you? A senseless grief renders you stupid and unconcerned. Thou art no man; thou art nothing; and if I did not confider what thou mighteft be, I cannot conceive any thing more abject.

There is need of no other proof than your letter itself. Formerly I could discover in you good fenfe and truth. Your fentiments were juft, your reflections proper, and I liked you not only from judgment but choice; for I confidered your influence as an additional motive to excite me to the ftudy of wisdom. But what do I perceive now in the arguments of your letter, with which you appear to be fo highly fatisfied? A wretched and perpetual sophistry, which, in the erroneous deviations of your reafon, fhows the diforder of your mind, and which I would not ftoop to refute, if I did not commiferate your delirium.

You

To fubvert all your reasoning with one word, I would only ask you a fingle question. who believe in the existence of a God, in the immortality of the foul, and in the free will of man, you surely cannot suppose that an intelligent being is embodied, and ftationed on the earth by accident only, to exist, to suffer, and to die. It is certainly moft probable that the life of man is not without fome defign, fome end, fome moral object. I entreat you to give me a direct answer to this point; after which we will deliberately examine your letter, and you will blush to have written it.

But let us wave all general maxims, about which we often hold violent difputes, without adopting any of them in practice; for in their applications we always find fome particular circumftances which make fuch an alteration in the

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