To Sir H. Wootton.
sir,
That which is at first but a visitation,
and a civill office, comes quickly to
be a haunting, and an uncivill importunity:
my often writing might be subject to such
a misinterpretation, if it were not to you,
who as you know that the affection which
suggests and dictates them, is ever one, and
continuall, and uninterrupted; may be
pleased to think my Letters so too, and that
all the pieces make but one long Letter, and
so I know you would not grudge to read
any intire book of mine, at that pace, as
you do my Letters, which is a leafe a week:
especially such Letters as mine, which (per-
chance out of the dulnesse of the place) are
so empty of any relations, as that they op-
presse not your meditations, nor discourse,
nor memory. You know that for aire we
are sure we apprehend and enjoy it, but
when this aire is rarified into fire, we begin
to dispute whether it be an element, or no:
[CW: so]
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