ORIGINAL LETTER

_From the Younger Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, upon his death bed, to
the Rev. Dr. W.----_.


Dear Doctor,--I always looked upon you as a man of true virtue, and
know you to be a person of sound understanding; for however I may have
acted in opposition to the principles of religion, or the dictates of
reason, I can honestly assure you I had always the highest veneration
for both. The world and I may now shake hands, for I dare affirm that
we are heartily weary of one another. Oh, doctor, what a prodigal have
I been of that most valuable of all possessions, time. I have
squandered it away with a profusion unparalleled; and now that the
enjoyment of a few days would be worth a hecatomb of worlds, I cannot
flatter myself with a prospect of half a dozen hours. How despicable,
my dear friend, is that man who never prays to his God but in the time
of distress. In what manner can he supplicate that omnipotent Being in
his affliction with reverence, whom in the tide of his prosperity he
never remembered with dread! Don't brand me with infidelity, my dear
doctor, when I tell you I am almost ashamed to offer up my petitions
at the throne of grace, or of imploring that divine mercy in the next
world, which I have so scandalously abused in this! Shall ingratitude
to man be looked upon as the blackest of crimes, and not ingratitude
to God? Shall an insult offered to the king be looked upon in the most
offensive light, and yet no notice be taken when the King of kings is
treated with indignity and disrespect. The companions of my former
libertinism would scarcely believe their eyes, my dear doctor, was you
to show them this epistle. They would laugh at me as a dreaming
enthusiast, or pity me as a timorous wretch who was shocked at the