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To Mounsieur Thibaudiere. LETTER XXIII.
SIR, I will not raise to you the price of my teares, though I have shed them for you 8. dayes together: I content my selfe to tell you that I am now comforted since, the newes of your death, is changed into tidings of your hurt; and that I am made assured, you may be quitted of it, for a little paine and a little patience. I know well that Vertue is more happily im∣ployed in well using honest pleasures, than in patient bearing troublesome crosses, and that without an absolute distemper in the taste, one can never finde any sweetnesse in paine: yet you shall confesse unto me, that there is a kinde of contentment in being lamented; and though the joyes of the minde be not so sensi∣ble as those of the body, yet they are more de∣licate and more subtill, at least, you have come to know of what worth you are by the feare, which all honest men were in to lose you, and that in a time when halfe the world weighs the other way; and every one reserves his la∣mentation for his owne miseries; yet all in ge∣nerall have mourned for you, in such sort Sir, that you have had the pleasure to heare your owne Funerall Oration, and to enjoy the con∣tinuance of a happy life, after receiving the honours done to worthy men after death. If