Letters on several subjects with several other letters : to which is added by the publisher two letters, one to the Reverend Dr. Sherlock, Dean of St. Paul's, and the other to the Reverend Mr. Bentley : with other discourses / by Henry More ; publish'd by E. Elys.

SIR,

I receiv'd yours a week or two ago, tho I have had no time till now, to signifie so much to you. The last time I wrote to you, I wrote also to Mr. D.—but I have heard nothing since from him: I wish he be well. I superscrib'd my Letter as heretofore. It's pretty you should light on a Tetrastick in Greg. Nazianzen, so like my 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: which upon receiving your Translation of my 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, without Translating that, I one morning turn'd into English thus, as near as I could.

Nor whence, nor who I am, poor wretch, know I: Nor, O the blindness! whither I shall go; But in the crooked Claws of Grief I lye, And live (I think) thus tugged to, and fro. Waking, and Dreams all one. O Father! I own Tis rare, we Mortals live i'th Clouds like Thee. Lyes, Toyes, or some hid Fate us fix, or move: All else being dark what's Life, I only see.

Your Youthful Poetical Fire, you see, trans∣fuses a little warmth into my old Blood. Your Translation, both Latin and English, is very well; and indeed, your divine Solitude is Excellent. These Expressions, as they are the Emanations, and transient Effluxes of a living Fountain in a man, are both the effects and evidence of that divine happiness the Soul is capable of, even in this Life. I am some∣thing solicitous that I hear nothing from Mr. D.—that he should not be well. When

you write to him, I pray you tell him, That I writ to him the last time I wrote to you, and send me word of his Health. I am

Yours Affectionately Hen. More.

C. C. C. Feb. 12.