ing judicious friend, who carries about him the true touchstone, which is love of truth in a clear thinking head. Men of parts and judgment the world usually gets hold of, and by a great mistake (that their abilities of mind are lost if not employed in the pursuit of wealth and power) engages them in the ways of fortune and interest, which usually leave but little freedom or leisure of thought for pure disinterested truth. And such who give themselves up frankly, and in earnest, to the full latitude of real knowledge, are not everywhere to be met with. Wonder not, therefore, that I wish so much for you in my neighbourhood; I should be too happy in a frient of your make, were you within my reach. But yet I cannot but wish that some business would once bring you within distance; and it is a pain to me to think of leaving the world, without the happiness of seeing you.

I do not wonder that a kinsman of yours should magnify civilities that scarce deserve that name; I know not wherein they consisted, but in being glad to see one that was any way related to you, and was himself a very ingenious man; either of those was a title to more than I did or could show him. I am sorry I have not yet had an opportunity to wait on him in London, and I fear be should be gone before I am able to get thither. This long winter and cold spring has hung very heavy upon my lungs, and they are not yet in a case to be ventured in London air, which must be my excuse for not waiting upon him and Dr. Ashe yet.

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LETTER XXXI.

MR. LOCKE TO MR. MOLYNEUX.

DEAR SIR, Oates, 2d July, 1695. DID I not assure myself that our friendship were grown beyond suspicion of compliment, I should think I should have need to make excuses to you for my long silence; but I know you will credit me, when I tell you it has been neither forgetfulness nor negligence. The specimen of the translation you sent me gave me some reason to apprehend that Mr. Mullart's style would lay too great a burden on your kindness, by often needing the correction of your hand, to make it express my sense with that clearness and easiness which I know you desire. My bookseller therefore having before told me of one who had offered to undertake the translation of my Essay, I have been ever since endeavouring to get from him a specimen, that I might send it you, and have your opinion which is like to do best; and so, if this man had a talent that way, you might be eased of the trouble which your friendship to me, and zeal to the work, I foresee, is likely to lay upon you̟. But having, the last post, received this account from Mr. Churchill, that the gentleman proposed is in the country, and must have a book sent him down on purpose before we can expect to see any thing from him, and this being all to be managed by a third hand, who is not every day to be met with, I have resolved to lose no more time on that

thought, but, accepting of your kind offer, put that whole matter into your hands, to be ordered as you shall think best, and shall spend no more time in other inquiries, since the gentleman you propose will (as I remember you told me) be about this time at leisure to set himself in earnest to it. There is one thing I would offer, which may be of advantage to him and the work too; and that is, that he would constantly and sedulously read Tully, especially his philosophical works, which will insensibly work him into a good latin style. I have heard it reported of bishop Sanderson, that being asked how he came to write latin so well, as appears in the treatises he published in that tongue; he answered, "by ordering his studies so that he read over all Tully's works every year." I leave it to you whether you will think fit to mention this to Mr. Mullart.

The Abridgment of my Essay is quite finished: it is done by a very ingenious man of Oxford, a master of arts, very considerable for his learning and virtue, who has a great many pupils. It is done with the same design you had in view when you mentioned it. He has generally (as far as I could remember) made use of my words: he very civilly sent it me when it was done, and upon looking it over, I guess you will approve of it, and think it well done. It is in Mr. Churchill's hands, and will be printed as soon as the third edition of my Essay, which is now in the press, is printed off.

I am extremely glad to hear that you have found any good effects of my method on your son. I should be glad to know the particulars: for though I have seen the success of it in a child of the lady

in whose house I am (whose mother has taught him latin without knowing it herself when she began), yet I would be glad to have other instances, because some men, who cannot endure any thing should be mended in the world by a new method, object, I hear, that my way of education is impracticable. But this I can assure you, that the child above-mentioned, but nine years old in June last, has learned to read and write very well; is now reading Quintus Curtius with his mother; understands geography and chronology very well, and the Copernican system of our vortex; is able to multiply well and divide a little; and all this without ever having one blow for his book. The third edition is now out; I have ordered Mr. Churchill to send you one of them, which I hope he has done before this. I expect your opinion of the additions, which have much increased the bulk of the book. And though I think all that I have said right, yet you are the man I depend on for a fair and free censure, not inclined either to flatter or quarrel. You know not of what value a knowing man, that is a sincere lover of truth, is, nor how hard to be found; wonder not, therefore, if I place a great part of my happiness in your friendship, and wish every day you were my neighbour; you would then find what use I should make of it. But, not to complain of what cannot be remedied, pray let me have all the advantage I can at this distance. Read the additions and examine them strictly, for I would not willingly mislead the world. Pray let me know whether the doctor, your brother, has any children; when he

bas, I count I owe him one of my books of Education.

With my treatise of Education, I believe you will receive another little one concerning Interest and Coinage. It is one of the fatherless children which the world lay at my door; but whoever be the author, I shall be glad to know your opinion of it.

LETTER XXXII.

MR. MOLYNEUX TO MR. LOCKE.

SIR, Dublin, August 24, 1695. I HAVE already so much experience of your method of education, that I long to see your third edition. And since you put me upon it (to whom I can refuse nothing in my power), I will give you a short account of my little boy's progress under it.

He was six years old about the middle of last July. When he was but just turned five he could read perfectly well; and on the globes could have traced out and pointed at all the noted parts, countries and cities of the world, both land and sea: and by five and an half could perform many of the plainest problems on the globe; as the longitude and latitude, the antipodes, the time with them and other countries, &c. and this by way of play and diversion, seldom called to it, never chid nor beaten for it. About the same age he could read any number of figures, not exceeding six places, break it as you please by ciphers or zeros. By the time