persons is a very necessary
satisfaction; but to forbear innocent contentments, only because it's
possible some fancies may be so capricious as to dispute whether I
should have taken them, is, in my belief, neither better nor worse
than to fast always, because there are some so superstitious in the
world, that will abstain from meat, upon some score or other, upon
every day in the year, that is, some upon some days, and others
upon others, and some upon all. You know, madam, there is nothing so
various as _vulgar opinion_, nothing so untrue to itself. Who shall
then please since none can fix it? 'Tis heresy (this of submitting to
every blast of popular extravagancy) which I have combated in persons
very dear to me; _Dear madam_, let them not have your authority for a
relapse, when I had almost committed them; but consider it without a
bias, and give sentence as you see cause; and in that interim put me
not off (_Dear madam_) with those chimeras, but tell me plainly what
inconvenience is it to come? If it be one in earnest, I will submit,
but otherwise, I am so much my own friend, and my friend's friend,
as not to be satisfied with your Ladyship's taking measure of your
actions by others' opinion, when I know too that the severest could
find nothing in this journey that they could condemn, but your excess
of charity to me, and that censure you have already supported with
patience, and (notwithstanding my own consciousness of no ways
deserving your sufferance upon that score) I cannot beg you to recover
the reputation of your judgement in that particular, since it must be
my ruin. I should now say very much for your most obliging commands to
me, to write, and should beg frequent letters from your Ladyship with
all possible importunity, and should by command from my _Lucasia_
excuse her last rudeness (as she calls it) in giving you account of
her honour for you under her own hand, but I must beg your pardon now,
and out-believing all, I can say upon every one of these accounts, for
really, madam, you cannot tell how to imagine any person more to any
one, than I am,

_Madam,
Your Ladyship's
most faithful servant,
and passionate friend_,
ORINDA

JOHN LOCKE

1632-1704

TO WILLIAM MOLYNEUX

_A philosopher's confidences_

Oates, 26 _April_, 1695.

SIR,

You look with the eyes, and speak the language of friendship, when you
make my life of much more concern to the world than your own. I take
it, as it