cannot blame me, if I so forwardly laid hold of the first occasion that opened me a way to yours. That I have so well succeeded in it I count one of my greatest happinesses, and a sufficient reward for writing my book, had I no other benefit by it. The opinion you have of it gives me farther hopes, for it is no small reward to one who loves truth, to be persuaded that he has made some discoveries of it, and any ways helped to proga. gate it to others. I depend so much upon your judgment and candour, that I think myself secure in you from peevish criticism or flattery; only give me leave to suspect, that kindness and friendship do sometimes carry your expressions a little too far on the favourable side. This, however, makes me not apprehend you will silently pass by any thing you are not thoroughly satis fied of in it. The use I have made of the advertisements I have received from you of this kind, will satisfy you that I desire this office of friendship from you, not out of compliment, but for the use of truth, and that your animadversions will not be lost upon me. Any faults you shall meet with in reasoning, in perspicuity, in expression, or of the press, I desire you to take notice of, and send me word of. Especially if you have any-where any doubt; for I am persuaded that, upon debate, you and I cannot be of two opinions; nor, I think, any two men used to think with freedom, who really prefer truth to opiniatrety, and a little foolish vain-glory, of not having made a mistake.

I shall not need to justify what I have said of you in my book: the learned world will be vouchers for me; and that in an age not very free from envy and censure. But you are very kind to me, since for my sake you allow yourself to own that part which I am more particularly concerned in, and permit me to call you my friend, whilst your modesty checks at the other part of your character. But, assure yourself, I am as well persuaded of the truth of it, as of any thing else in my book; it had not else been put down in it. It only wants a great deal more I had to say, had that been a place to draw your picture at large. Herein I pretend not to any peculiar obligation above others that know

you. For though perhaps I may love you better than many others; yet, I conclude, I cannot think better of than others do.

you

I am very glad you were provided of a tutor nearer home, and it had this particular good luck in it, that otherwise you had been disappointed, if you had depended on Mr. Gibbs; as a letter I wrote to you from London about it, I hope, acquainted you. I am,

YOU speak of my book in such terms, that had I not convincing arguments that you are not a man of compliments, I should a little suspect your civility bordered very much on them in this case. But there are so few of them to be found, that you think you cannot speak too highly of the endeavours of one who pursues truth unbiassedly, and chooses not his opinions first, and then seeks arguments to support them. Upon that account I admit of whatever you please to say; but withal give me leave to assure you, that in the performance itself, I see nothing but what any one might have done, who would have sat down to it with the same love of truth and indifferency that I did. However, I cannot but be pleased that you think so well of it; for whether your friendship to me bribes your judgment, or whether your good opinion of my essay adds to your kind thoughts of the author; I find my account both ways, and should think myself well rewarded for my pains in this single purchase. But, sir, will you not

pardon so lawful a desire, in one that loves you, if I ask, shall I never have the happiness to see you in England?

.

Mr. Churchill, my bookseller, sends me word by the last post, that he has sent you the six copies that you sent for, and advice of it. I sent to him a project of a new reduction of the year by Dr. Wood, to be sent with the copy of my essay to you. The author gave it me himself, and I thought it might possibly please you, if you had not seen it before. This, with the supernumerary cuts I ordered him to send you, will, with the books, I hope, come safe to your hands. The mentioning of those cuts puts me in mind again of your civility, which I see studies all manner of ways of expressing itself.

ke with you, that I am

You see, by this liberty La past terms of compliment with you, that is, I use you a one I look upon to be my friend, with a freedom of good offices, either to receive or do them, as it happens. Look upon me as such, I beseech you, and believe that I am, with the utmost sincerity,

YOURS, of November 23, found me labouring under a sharp fever which has held me this month past; but I am now, God be thanked, pretty well recovered. I am obliged to you for the earnest desire you express of seeing me in England. But as to that particular, the truth is thus: last summer I designed to make a journey,

on purpose to pay my respects to you, and for no other errand; but my resolutions were not so fixed as to give you any intimations thereof. For indeed the state of my health was so very uncertain, that I was very mis trustful whether I should be able to undertake the journey. However, I thought to make an essay of my strength in our own country; so that some business calling me about threescore miles from this city, the fatigue was so troublesome to me, that I was quite discouraged from thinking of England that season. I have now had another pull-back by my present sickness, so that I cannot yet well tell how to think of the other side of the water. This only I will assure you, that the first entire health God is pleased to bestow on me shall be employed in a journey towards you; there being nothing I so earnestly covet as the personal acquaintance of one for whom I have so great a respect and veneration, to whom I am so highly obliged for many favours.

There is a very worthy person, Dr. St. George Ashe, provost of the college here, lately gone from hence to London; he is a great admirer, and zealous promoter, of your writings in his college. He desired from me a letter of recommendation to you; but I fear your being in the country will hinder his designed happiness in your conversation. He stays in London these three or four months to come, in which time, if your business call you to the city, you will hear of him either at your lodgings at Mr. Pawlin's, (where perhaps he will leave the place of his residence,) or at Mr. Tucker's, in the secretary's office at Whitehall, where a penny-post letter will find him out.

I thank you for the care you have taken to send me the books and sculptures, which I hope to receive in good time, having advice thereof already from Mr. Churchill. I am,

Worthy SIR,

Your most affectionate, humble servant,

WILL. MOLYNEUX.

Mr. MOLYNEUX to Mr. LOCKE.

Honoured SIR,

Dublin, January 15, 1694-5.

I HAVE received the six copies of your book, and thank you for the care you have taken about them. I acknowledge myself likewise obliged to you for yor present of Dr. Wood's almanack, though it was not new to me, having received the favour of one from the author himself, when accomptant-general here in Ireland, many years ago. It is a very pretty project, but, I believe, it will hardly ever be practised; because men think what they have already sufficiently accurate for the common uses of life, and are hardly brought from what they have used, so long as they have done the common Julian account, unless prevailed upon by some such potent authority as the church, which abrogated the Julian, and established the Gregorian kalendar.

The sculptures also I received, and thank you for them. I shall do them all the honour that outward ornament can give them. And I heartily wish I had more effectual ways of showing my respects, which I think I can never do sufficiently.

I have ever thought that an elegant translation of your Essay into Latin would be highly acceptable to foreigners, and of great use in those countries, whose minds lie yet captivated in verbose, disputative philosophy, and false reasoning; I therefore presume to mention it to you, that though your own leisure may not permit you to perform it yourself, you may think of putting some one on it, that under your eye may do it correctly. And were I not persuaded that your own eye and correction were absolutely requisite herein, I would venture to make a bold proposal to have it done by some one in this place, whom I should reward for his labour herein. And this I do, not that I think you may not with a great deal of ease employ one yourself in this matter, but merely that herein I may have an opportunity of doing so much good in the world. You