To Mrs. Pendarves July 14 1731. You have, indeed, done me wrong in this, Aspasia., in thinking I could give way to any suspicion to your disadvantage;. and yourself too, in doubting the power of that letter to remove it, if any such there were. Other wrong I confess you have done me none; since I must ever acknowledge that delightful means of improvement which it has not been in your power to give me lately, a pure effect of your goodness, not justice. I can never pretend any right to that favor; unless this should seem so to generous Aspasia, that I endeavor to esteem it as it deserves, and not to let it be given in vain; and that when I feel something of your spirit transfused into mine, then my heart remembers and blesses you. I am extremely happy in having your approbation there, where I am most careful to be approved; and though I am sensible how small a part of it I deserve, yet I can't help experiencing How sweet applause is from an honest tongue. What is popular fame, laid in the balance with this Who would not gladly make the exchange Give me the censure of the many and the praise of the few. What is the evil compared with the good! Evil It is none at all: it is all good. One that is learning Christ should never think censure an evil. No; it is a gracious gift of a wise Father to His children: it is subservient to the noblest purposes; in particular to the attainment of humility, which in order to holiness is all in all, which whoever thinks he has enough of already has nothing of yet as he ought to have. By this alone may we judge of the value of censure: God hath so constituted this world that, so soon as ever any one sets himself earnestly to seek a better, Censure is at hand to conduct him to it. Nor can the fools cease to count his life madness Wisdom of Solomon, v. 4. till they have confirmed him in the wisdom of the just.

May not one reason why God makes even these fools such a means of leading others to wisdom be this, that those whose eyes are opened may the more tenderly pity their blindness; that the contempt and hate which such objects are apt to inspire may melt down into softer passions, and they may be the more unwilling to see those cast away who have (though unknowingly) helped them to their haven I do not wonder that Aspasia is thus minded; any more than I did at the temper of dear Varanese when under the sharpest pain an embodied spirit can know. You will easily take knowledge of those words, if you have not heard them before: 'When I was in the greatest of my pains, if my strength would have allowed, I would gladly have run out into the streets to warn all I met that they should save themselves from pains sharper than mine.' Something like this methinks 'tis impossible not to feel even when we read a description of the great place of torment. What would not one do to save a poor wretch from falling into it ! How unwilling are we to give over our attempts to help him! how ardent to try every way, while time is, before the pit shut its mouth upon him! In attaining some share of a better portion, some lot in a fairer heritage, I may aspire to imitate Aspasia; but vainly should hope for the same share in it. You have kept yourself unspotted from the world: I am sullied with many stains! Your mind is now adorned with many of those dispositions to which mine must probably be yet long a stranger. For though I would fain be nearer you; though I do what I can (alas! I fear not always) to overtake you: yet so hard is it to lay aside every weight, these follies do so easily beset me, that I find it will not be; the penitent can't avoid being left behind by the innocent!

True it is that I have all the advantages given me that outward circumstances can afford. I spend day by day many hours in those employments that have a direct tendency to improve me: you can rarely have one wherein to pursue that great work with the full bent of your mind. I have scarce any acquaintance in the world who is not either apt to teach or willing to learn: you are entangle among several who can plead for themselves little more than that they do no hurt. And would to God even this plea would hold! I much fear it will not. Is it no hurt to rob you of that time for which there is no equivalent but eternity, on the use of every moment of which much more than a world depends to turn your very sweetness of temper against you on this very account to encroach upon you with so much cruelty to force you to stand still so many hours when you are most ardent to press forward nay, to strike whole days out of your existence, while He that sitteth in heaven sees that all the kingdoms He hath made are vile compared to the worth of one particle of them O God, hath Thy wisdom prepared a remedy for every evil under the sun, and is there none for this Must Aspasia ever submit to this insupportable misfortune Every time a gay wretch wants to trifle away part of that invaluable treasure which Thou hast lent him, shall he force away a part of hers too tear another star from her crown of glory Oh, 'tis too much indeed! Surely there is a way to escape. The God whom you serve point it out to you! In about eight days I hope to be in town. If you leave it before that time, I heartily recommend you to His protection who is able ' to save to the uttermost'; and if I have not the pleasure of seeing you now, I shall the more cheerfully bear my disappointment, since you are so good as to assure me that, notwithstanding the distance between us, you will now and then think of, dear Aspasia, Your most sincere friend and most obedient servant, Though I had almost forgot Araspes, he will never forget what he owes to good Aspasia. Adieu.