LETTER XVIIITo the Same,

He had desired Rainald to refrain from querulous complaints; now he directs Rainald to keep him informed of all his affairs.

I had hoped, my dear friend, to find a remedy for my care about you, if I were not informed by you of your little vexations. And I remember that I said to you, amongst other things, in my last letter, “if it is a mark of your filial affection towards me that you do not hide any of your difficulties from me, yet it is hard to add trouble to one already burdened.” But the remedy which I thought would lighten my cares has increased them, and I feel more burdened than before. For then I, indeed, felt vexation and fear, but only on account of the troubles named by you, but now I fear that some evil, I know not what, is happening to you, and like your favourite Ovid—

“When have I not made the perils which I feared

Greater than they really were?”[1]

I fear all things because I am uncertain of all things, and feel often real sorrow for imaginary evils. The mind which affection dominates is hardly master of itself. It fears what it knows not; it grieves when 70 there is no need; it is troubled more than it wished, and even when it does not wish; unable to rule its sensibility, it pities or sympathizes against its will. And because you see, my son, that neither my timid industry nor your pious prudence in this respect are of service to me, do not, I pray you, conceal from me henceforth anything that concerns you, that you may not increase my uneasiness by seeking to spare me. The little books of mine which you have, please return to me when you can.