went up

a cold sweat, but recovered himself foon after. He was offered a little Brunswick mum, which he had drank with pleasure the week before. He took fome fpoonfuls of it, and drank to the health of the company, faying, "I wish you all happiness when I fhall "be departed." Thofe who were in the chamber having left it, except the Lady Mafham, who fat by his bed, he exhorted her "to regard this world only as a "state of preparation for a better." He added, "that " he had lived long enough, and thanked God for hav"ing paffed his life happily; but that this life appear"ed to him a mere vanity." After fupper the family into his chamber to prayer, and between ele ven and twelve at night he seemed a little better. Lady Masham having defired to fit up with him, he would not permit her, and said, that perhaps he might sleep, but that if he found any change, he would have her called. He did not fleep, but refolved to try to rife next morning, which he did. He was carried into his study, and placed in an eafy chair, where he flept a confiderable while at different times. Seeming to be a little refreshed, he would be dreffed as he ufed to be, and called for fome small beer, which he tafted very feldom; and then desired the Lady Mafham, who was reading fome pfalms low while he was dreffing, to read. aloud. She did fo, and he appeared very attentive, till the approach of death prevented him. He then defired her to break off, and a few minutes after expir ed, on October the 28th 1704, in the 73d year of his age.

Thus died this great and most excellent philofopher, who, after he had bestowed many years in matters of fcience and fpeculation, happily turned his thoughts to the ftudy of the fcriptures, which he carefully examined with the fame liberty he had used in his ftudy of the other sciences; and it is needless to say how much the Chriftian world is indebted to him for his paraphrafe and comments on fome of the epiftles, which were pub lished after his death.

There is no occafion to attempt a panegyric on our author; his writings are now well known and valued, and will last as long as the English language. He had a great knowledge of the world, and of the bufinefs of it. He was prudent without cunning, and he engaged mens esteem by his probity, and took care to fecure himfelf from the attacks of falfe friends and fordid flatterers. Averfe to all mean complaifance, his wisdom, his experience, his gentle manners, gained him the refpect of his inferiors, the esteem of his equals, the friendship and confidence of thofe of the highest quality. If there was any thing he could not bear, it was ill manners; this was ever ungrateful to him, unless when he perceived that it proceeded from ignorance; but when it was the effect of pride, or ill-nature, or brutality, he detefted it. He looked on civility not only as a duty of humanity, but of Chriftianity; and he thought that it ought to be more preffed and urged upon men than it commonly is. He recommended on this occafion a treatife in the Moral Effays, written by the gentlemen of the Port Royal, " concerning the "means of preferving peace among men *" and was a great admirer of Dr. Wichcote's fermons on moral fubjects. He was very exact to his word, and religi oufly performed whatever he promised. He was very fcrupulous of giving recommendations of perfons whom he did not well know, and would by no means commend thofe whom he thought not to deferve it. If he was told that his recommendations had not produced the effect expected, he would fay, "the reason of that

was, becaufe' he had never deceived any perfon by "faying more than he knew that he never paffed his "word for any but fuch as he believed would anfwer "the character he gave of them, and that if he should " do otherwife, his recommendations would be worth "nothing." Though he chiefly loved truths that were useful, and with fuch fed his mind, and was generally very well pleased to make them the subject of conver

* The felect fermons which were published, with a preface, by Lord Shaftesbury.

fation, yet he used to fay, that, in order to employ one part of this life in fervices and important occupations, it was neceffary to spend another in mere amusements; and when an occafion naturally offered, he gave himself up with pleasure to the charms of a free and facetious converfation. He remembered a great many agreeable ftories, which he always brought in properly, and generally made them yet more delightful by his natural and agreeable manner of telling them.

66

He had a peculiar art in converfation to lead people to talk of what they understood beft. With a gardener he difcourfed of gardening, with a jeweller of a diamond, &c., with a chemift of chemistry. "By this," faid he, "I please all thofe men who commonly can fpeak pertinently upon nothing elfe. As they be"lieve I have an esteem for their profeffion, they are charmed with fhowing their abilities before me, and I in the mean while improve myfelf by their dif"courfe." And indeed he had by this means acquired a very good infight into all the arts, of which he daily learned more and more. He used to say, too, that the knowledge of the arts contained more true philofophy than all thofe fine learned hypothefes, which, having no relation to the nature of things, are fit only to make men lofe their time in inventing or comprehending them. By the feveral questions which he would put to artificers, he would find out the fecret of their art, which they did not understand themselves, and often give them views entirely new, which fometimes they put in practice to their profit. He was fo far from affuning those airs of gravity by which fome perfonis, learned and unlearned, love to diftinguish themselves from the rest of the world, that, on the contrary, he looked on them as an infallible mark of impertinence; nay, fometimes he would divert himself with imitating that studied gravity, in order to turn it the better into ridicule; and upon this occafion he always remembered this maxim of the Duke of La Rouchefoucault, which he admired above all others, that gravity is a myflery of the body, invented to conceal the defects

"of the mind." One thing, which thofe who lived for any time with Mr. Locke could not help obferving of him, was, that he used his reafon in every thing he did, and that nothing that was useful feemed unworthy of his care. He often used to say, that there was an art in every thing, and it was eafy for any one to see it, from the manner in which he went about the most trifling things. As he always kept the useful in his eye in all his disquisitions, he esteemed the employments of men only in proportion to the good they were capable of producing; for which reason he had no great value for thofe critics and mere grammarians who waste their lives in comparing words and phrafes, and in coming to a determination in the choice of a various reading in a paffage of no importance. He valued yet lefs thofe profeffed difputants, who, being wholly poffeffed with a defire of coming off with victory, fortify themselves behind the ambiguity of a word, to give their adversaries the more trouble; and whenever he had to do with this fort of people, if he did not beforehand ftrongly refolve to keep his temper, he foon fell into paffion; for his natural temper was hot and choleric, but his anger never lafted long. If he retained any refentment, it was against himself, for having given way to fo ridiculous a paffion, which, as he used to fay, may do a great deal of harm, but never yet did the leaft good. He often would blame himself for this weaknefs. He difliked those authors who labour only to deftroy, without establishing any thing themselves. "A building," faid he, "difpleases them; they find great fault in it; "let them demolish it, and welcome, if they will, but "endeavour to raise another in its place." He advifed, that whenever we have meditated any thing new, we should throw it as foon as poffible upon paper, in order to be the better able to judge of it by feeing it altogether, because the mind of man is not capable of retaining clearly a long chain of confequences, and of feeing without confufion the relation of a great number of different ideas; befides, it often happens, that what we had moft admired, when confidered in the grofs,

and in a perplexed manner, appears to be utterly inconfiftent and infupportable when we fee every part of it diftinctly.

He was naturally very active, and employed himself as much as his health would permit. Sometimes he diverted himself with working in the garden, which he very well understood. He loved walking, but not being able to walk much, through the diforder of his lungs, he used to ride out after dinner, and when he could not bear a horse, he went in a chaife. He always chose to have company with him, though it were but a child; for he took pleasure in talking with children of a good education. His bad health was a disturbance to none but himself; and any perfon might be with him without any other concern than that of seeing him fuffer. He did not differ from others in his diet, but only in that his usual drink was nothing but water; and he thought that was the means under God of lengthening out his life. To this he alfo thought the prefervation of his fight was in a great measure owing; for he could read by candlelight all forts of books to the laft, if they were not of a very fmall print, without the use of spectacles. He had no other diftemper but his afthma, except a deafness for about fix months, which he lamented in a letter to one of his friends, telling him, "he thought it better to be blind than deaf, as "it deprived him of all converfation." He left feveral manuscripts behind him, befides his paraphrase on some of St. Paul's epiftles, which were published at different times, and are all now added to the collection of his works by M. Defmaizeaux, from whence this account of his life, and this edition of his Effay concerning Human Understanding, and his Thoughts on the Conduct of the Understanding, are taken.

VOL. I.

d