Wesley Corpus

Your knowledge would swiftly (though insensibly) improve, not so swiftly as your happiness. You would then find less pain from every accident; even from the absence of Aspasia. A treasure doubtless she is, the value of which nothing can teach so well as experience; every additional degree of intimacy with her may questionless enhance her value. Nor would it be human to be unconcerned at a separation from such a friend. Yet the time may come when that concern, though equally tender, shall not be equally painful to you: when you shall be as much pleased as ever with her presence, and yet not so much displeased at her absence. For there is a way (though it is a way which the world knows not) of dividing friendship from pain. It is called charity, or the love of God. The more acquainted we are with rids, the less anxiety shall we receive from the sharpest trial that can befall us. This, while it enlivens every virtuous affection of our souls, adds calmness to their strength; at the same time that it swells their stream, this makes it flow smooth and even. Soft peace she breathes wherever she arrives, She builds our quiet as she forms our lives, Leaves the rough paths of nature even, And opens in each breast a little heaven. [Prior's Charity, where it is brings,' not ' breathes,' in line I; 'heart,' in line 4; line 3, 'Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even.'] O Selima, never complain that it is not in your power to repay your friends much more than by receiving from them at least; don't complain with regard to me: any one of those! obliging things you have said is vastly more than a return for all the little service that is in my power to do you. I am amazed more and more, each time I reflect on those strange instances of your condescension, and feel how much I am overpaid, in (what I can never think of with due esteem and gratitude) the regard you show for Selima's Ever obliged friend and faithful servant, CYRUS. Araspes joins me in wishing he could make any return to Mrs. Granville's and Selima's goodness. I beg you to correct what you see wrong in the enclosed, and to send it when you write. Adieu. Mrs. Pendarves replies [4] GLOUCESTER, October 12, 1730.