upon you.  These things considered, I believe this letter will be longer than ordinary,—­kinder I think it cannot be.  I always speak my heart to you; and that is so much your friend, it never furnishes me with anything to your disadvantage.  I am glad you are an admirer of Telesile as well as I; in my opinion ’tis a fine Lady, but I know you will pity poor Amestris strongly when you have read her story.  I’ll swear I cried for her when I read it first, though she were but an imaginary person; and, sure, if anything of that kind can deserve it, her misfortunes may.

God forgive me, I was as near laughing yesterday where I should not.  Would you believe that I had the grace to go hear a sermon upon a week day?  In earnest, ’tis true; a Mr. Marshall was the man that preached, but never anybody was so defeated.  He is so famed that I expected rare things of him, and seriously I listened to him as if he had been St. Paul; and what do you think he told us?  Why, that if there were no kings, no queens, no lords, no ladies, nor gentlemen, nor gentlewomen, in the world, ’twould be no loss to God Almighty at all.  This we had over some forty times, which made me remember it whether I would or not.  The rest was much at this rate, interlarded with the prettiest odd phrases, that I had the most ado to look soberly enough for the place I was in that ever I had in my life.  He does not preach so always, sure?  If he does, I cannot believe his sermons will do much towards bringing anybody to heaven more than by exercising their patience.  Yet, I’ll say that for him, he stood stoutly for tithes, though, in my opinion, few deserve them less than he; and it may be he would be better without them.

Yet you are not convinced, you say, that to be miserable is the way to be good; to some natures I think it is not, but there are many of so careless and vain a temper, that the least breath of good fortune swells them with so much pride, that if they were not put in mind sometimes by a sound cross or two that they are mortal, they would hardly think it possible; and though ’tis a sign of a servile nature when fear produces more of reverence in us than love, yet there is more danger of forgetting oneself in a prosperous fortune than in the contrary, and affliction may be the surest (though not the pleasantest) guide to heaven.  What think you, might not I preach with Mr. Marshall for a wager?  But you could fancy a perfect happiness here, you say; that is not much, many people do so; but I never heard of anybody that ever had it more than in fancy, so that will not be strange if you should miss on’t.  One may be happy to a good degree, I think, in a faithful friend, a moderate fortune, and a retired life; further than this I know nothing to wish; but if there be anything beyond it, I wish it you.