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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Love Letters of Dorothy Osborne to Sir
+William Temple, 1652-54, Edited by Edward Abbott Parry
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Love Letters of Dorothy Osborne to Sir William Temple, 1652-54
+
+Editor: Edward Abbott Parry
+
+Release Date: June 7, 2004  [eBook #12544]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOVE LETTERS OF DOROTHY
+OSBORNE TO SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, 1652-54***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Cera Kruger, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+THE LOVE LETTERS OF DOROTHY OSBORNE
+TO SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, 1652-54
+
+Edited by Edward Abbott Parry
+
+New York, 1901
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TO
+MY DAUGHTER
+HELEN
+THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED
+EXEMPLI GRATIA
+
+
+
+
+Editorial Note
+
+
+It having been noted in the _Athenaeum_, June 9, 1888, that rumours were
+afloat doubting the authenticity of these letters, and that these
+rumours would sink to rest if the history of the originals were
+published, I hasten to adopt my reviewer's suggestion, and give an
+outline of their story. They are at present in the hands of the Rev.
+Robert Longe at Coddenham Vicarage, Suffolk, where they have been for
+the last hundred years. At Sir William Temple's death in 1698, he left
+no other descendants than two grand-daughters--Elizabeth and Dorothy.
+Elizabeth died without issue in 1772; Dorothy married Nicholas Bacon,
+Esq. of Shrubland Hall in the parish of Coddenham. Dorothy left a son,
+the Rev. Nicholas Bacon, who was vicar of Coddenham. This traces the
+letters to Coddenham Vicarage. The Rev. Nicholas Bacon dying without
+issue, bequeathed Coddenham Vicarage, with the pictures and papers
+therein, to the Rev. John Longe, who had married his wife's sister. The
+Rev. John Longe, who died in 1835, was the father of the present owner.
+This satisfactorily accounts for the letters being in their present
+hands, and these stated facts will, I trust, set at rest the fears or
+hopes of sceptics.
+
+EDWARD ABBOTT PARRY.
+
+MANCHESTER, October 1888.
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+I. INTRODUCTION
+
+II. EARLY LETTERS. Winter and Spring 1652-53
+
+III. LIFE AT CHICKSANDS. 1653
+
+IV. DESPONDENCY. Christmas 1653
+
+V. THE LAST OF CHICKSANDS. February and March 1654
+
+VI. VISITING. Summer 1654
+
+VII. THE END OF THE THIRD VOLUME
+
+APPENDIX--LADY TEMPLE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+"An editor," says Dr. Johnson, is "he that revises or prepares any work
+for publication;" and this definition of an editor's duty seems wholly
+right and satisfactory. But now that the revision of these letters is
+apparently complete, the reader has some right to expect a formal
+introduction to a lady whose name he has, in all probability, never
+heard; and one may not be overstepping the modest and Johnsonian limits
+of an editor's office, when the writing of a short introduction is
+included among the duties of preparation.
+
+Dorothy Osborne was the wife of the famous Sir William Temple, and
+apology for her biography will be found in her own letters, here for the
+first time published. Some of them have indeed been printed in a _Life
+of Sir William Temple_ by the Right Honourable Thomas Peregrine
+Courtenay, a man better known to the Tory politician of fifty years ago
+than to any world of letters in that day or this. Forty-two extracts
+from these letters did Courtenay transfer to an Appendix, without
+arrangement or any form of editing, as he candidly confesses; but not
+without misgivings as to how they would be received by a people
+thirsting to read the details of the negotiations which took place in
+connection with the Triple Alliance. If Courtenay lived to learn that
+the world had other things to do than pore over dull excerpts from
+inhuman State papers, we may pity his awakening; but we can never quite
+forgive the apologetic paragraph with which he relegates Dorothy
+Osborne's letters to the mouldy obscurity of an Appendix.
+
+When Macaulay was reviewing Courtenay's book in the _Edinburgh Review_,
+he took occasion to write a short but living sketch of the early history
+of Sir William Temple and Dorothy Osborne. And with this account so
+admirably written, ready at hand, it becomes the clear duty of the
+Editor to quote rather than to rewrite; which he does with the greater
+pleasure, remembering that it was this very passage that first led him
+to read the letters of Dorothy Osborne.
+
+"William Temple, Sir John's eldest son, was born in London in the year
+1628. He received his early education under his maternal uncle, was
+subsequently sent to school at Bishop-Stortford, and, at seventeen,
+began to reside at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, where the celebrated
+Cudworth was his tutor. The times were not favourable to study. The
+Civil War disturbed even the quiet cloisters and bowling-greens of
+Cambridge, produced violent revolutions in the government and discipline
+of the colleges, and unsettled the minds of the students. Temple forgot
+at Emmanuel all the little Greek which he had brought from
+Bishop-Stortford, and never retrieved the loss; a circumstance which
+would hardly be worth noticing but for the almost incredible fact, that
+fifty years later he was so absurd as to set up his own authority
+against that of Bentley on questions of Greek history and philology. He
+made no proficiency, either in the old philosophy which still lingered
+in the schools of Cambridge, or in the new philosophy of which Lord
+Bacon was the founder. But to the end of his life he continued to speak
+of the former with ignorant admiration, and of the latter with equally
+ignorant contempt.
+
+"After residing at Cambridge two years, he departed without taking a
+degree, and set out upon his travels. He seems to have been then a
+lively, agreeable young man of fashion, not by any means deeply read,
+but versed in all the superficial accomplishments of a gentleman, and
+acceptable in all polite societies. In politics he professed himself a
+Royalist. His opinions on religious subjects seem to have been such as
+might be expected from a young man of quick parts, who had received a
+rambling education, who had not thought deeply, who had been disgusted
+by the morose austerity of the Puritans, and who, surrounded from
+childhood by the hubbub of conflicting sects, might easily learn to feel
+an impartial contempt for them all.
+
+"On his road to France he fell in with the son and daughter of Sir Peter
+Osborne. Sir Peter held Guernsey for the King, and the young people
+were, like their father, warm for the Royal cause. At an inn where they
+stopped in the Isle of Wight, the brother amused himself with inscribing
+on the windows his opinion of the ruling powers. For this instance of
+malignancy the whole party were arrested, and brought before the
+Governor. The sister, trusting to the tenderness which, even in those
+troubled times, scarcely any gentleman of any party ever failed to show
+where a woman was concerned, took the crime on herself, and was
+immediately set at liberty with her fellow-travellers.
+
+"This incident, as was natural, made a deep impression on Temple. He was
+only twenty. Dorothy Osborne was twenty-one. She is said to have been
+handsome; and there remains abundant proof that she possessed an ample
+share of the dexterity, the vivacity, and the tenderness of her sex.
+Temple soon became, in the phrase of that time, her servant, and she
+returned his regard. But difficulties, as great as ever expanded a novel
+to the fifth volume, opposed their wishes. When the courtship commenced,
+the father of the hero was sitting in the Long Parliament; the father of
+the heroine was commanding in Guernsey for King Charles. Even when the
+war ended, and Sir Peter Osborne returned to his seat at Chicksands, the
+prospects of the lovers were scarcely less gloomy. Sir John Temple had a
+more advantageous alliance in view for his son. Dorothy Osborne was in
+the meantime besieged by as many suitors as were drawn to Belmont by the
+fame of Portia. The most distinguished on the list was Henry Cromwell.
+Destitute of the capacity, the energy, the magnanimity of his
+illustrious father, destitute also of the meek and placid virtues of his
+elder brother, this young man was perhaps a more formidable rival in
+love than either of them would have been. Mrs. Hutchinson, speaking the
+sentiments of the grave and aged, describes him as an 'insolent foole,'
+and a 'debauched ungodly cavalier.' These expressions probably mean that
+he was one who, among young and dissipated people, would pass for a fine
+gentleman. Dorothy was fond of dogs, of larger and more formidable breed
+than those which lie on modern hearthrugs; and Henry Cromwell promised
+that the highest functionaries at Dublin should be set to work to
+procure her a fine Irish greyhound. She seems to have felt his
+attentions as very flattering, though his father was then only Lord
+General, and not yet Protector. Love, however, triumphed over ambition,
+and the young lady appears never to have regretted her decision; though,
+in a letter written just at the time when all England was ringing with
+the news of the violent dissolution of the Long Parliament, she could
+not refrain from reminding Temple with pardonable vanity, 'how great she
+might have been, if she had been so wise as to have taken hold of the
+offer of H.C.'
+
+"Nor was it only the influence of rivals that Temple had to dread. The
+relations of his mistress regarded him with personal dislike, and spoke
+of him as an unprincipled adventurer, without honour or religion, ready
+to render service to any party for the sake of preferment. This is,
+indeed, a very distorted view of Temple's character. Yet a character,
+even in the most distorted view taken of it by the most angry and
+prejudiced minds, generally retains something of its outline. No
+caricaturist ever represented Mr. Pitt as a Falstaff, or Mr. Fox as a
+skeleton; nor did any libeller ever impute parsimony to Sheridan, or
+profusion to Marlborough. It must be allowed that the turn of mind which
+the eulogists of Temple have dignified with the appellation of
+philosophical indifference, and which, however becoming it may be in an
+old and experienced statesman, has a somewhat ungraceful appearance in
+youth, might easily appear shocking to a family who were ready to fight
+or to suffer martyrdom for their exiled King and their persecuted
+Church. The poor girl was exceedingly hurt and irritated by these
+imputations on her lover, defended him warmly behind his back, and
+addressed to himself some very tender and anxious admonitions, mingled
+with assurances of her confidence in his honour and virtue. On one
+occasion she was most highly provoked by the way in which one of her
+brothers spoke of Temple. 'We talked ourselves weary,' she says; 'he
+renounced me, and I defied him.'
+
+"Near seven years did this arduous wooing continue. We are not
+accurately informed respecting Temple's movements during that time. But
+he seems to have led a rambling life, sometimes on the Continent,
+sometimes in Ireland, sometimes in London. He made himself master of the
+French and Spanish languages, and amused himself by writing essays and
+romances, an employment which at least served the purpose of forming his
+style. The specimen which Mr. Courtenay has preserved of these early
+compositions is by no means contemptible: indeed, there is one passage
+on Like and Dislike, which could have been produced only by a mind
+habituated carefully to reflect on its own operations, and which reminds
+us of the best things in Montaigne.
+
+"Temple appears to have kept up a very active correspondence with his
+mistress. His letters are lost, but hers have been preserved; and many
+of them appear in these volumes. Mr. Courtenay expresses some doubt
+whether his readers will think him justified in inserting so large a
+number of these epistles. We only wish that there were twice as many.
+Very little indeed of the diplomatic correspondence of that generation
+is so well worth reading."
+
+Here Macaulay indulges in an eloquent but lengthy philippic against that
+"vile phrase" the "dignity of history," which we may omit,--taking up
+the thread of his discourse where he recurs to the affairs of our two
+lovers. "Thinking thus,"--concerning the "dignity of history,"--"we are
+glad to learn so much, and would willingly learn more about the loves of
+Sir William and his mistress. In the seventeenth century, to be sure,
+Louis the Fourteenth was a much more important person than Temple's
+sweetheart. But death and time equalize all things. Neither the great
+King nor the beauty of Bedfordshire, neither the gorgeous paradise of
+Marli nor Mistress Osborne's favourite walk 'in the common that lay hard
+by the house, where a great many young wenches used to keep sheep and
+cows and sit in the shade singing of ballads,' is anything to us. Louis
+and Dorothy are alike dust. A cotton-mill stands on the ruins of Marli;
+and the Osbornes have ceased to dwell under the ancient roof of
+Chicksands. But of that information, for the sake of which alone it is
+worth while to study remote events, we find so much in the love letters
+which Mr. Courtenay has published, that we would gladly purchase equally
+interesting billets with ten times their weight in State papers taken at
+random. To us surely it is as useful to know how the young ladies of
+England employed themselves a hundred and eighty years ago, how far
+their minds were cultivated, what were their favourite studies, what
+degree of liberty was allowed to them, what use they made of that
+liberty, what accomplishments they most valued in men, and what proofs
+of tenderness delicacy permitted them to give to favoured suitors, as to
+know all about the seizure of Franche-Comte and the Treaty of Nimeguen.
+The mutual relations of the two sexes seem to us to be at least as
+important as the mutual relations of any two Governments in the world;
+and a series of letters written by a virtuous, amiable, and sensible
+girl, and intended for the eye of her lover alone, can scarcely fail to
+throw some light on the relations of the sexes; whereas it is perfectly
+possible, as all who have made any historical researches can attest, to
+read bale after bale of despatches and protocols, without catching one
+glimpse of light about the relations of Governments.
+
+"Mr. Courtenay proclaims that he is one of Dorothy Osborne's devoted
+servants, and expresses a hope that the publication of her letters will
+add to the number. We must declare ourselves his rivals. She really
+seems to have been a very charming young woman, modest, generous,
+affectionate, intelligent, and sprightly; a Royalist, as was to be
+expected from her connections, without any of that political asperity
+which is as unwomanly as a long beard; religious, and occasionally
+gliding into a very pretty and endearing sort of preaching, yet not too
+good to partake of such diversions as London afforded under the
+melancholy rule of the Puritans, or to giggle a little at a ridiculous
+sermon from a divine who was thought to be one of the great lights of
+the Assembly at Westminster; with a little turn for coquetry, which was
+yet perfectly compatible with warm and disinterested attachment, and a
+little turn for satire, which yet seldom passed the bounds of good
+nature. She loved reading; but her studies were not those of Queen
+Elizabeth and Lady Jane Grey. She read the verses of Cowley and Lord
+Broghill, French Memoirs recommended by her lover, and the Travels of
+Fernando Mendez Pinto. But her favourite books were those ponderous
+French romances which modern readers know chiefly from the pleasant
+satire of Charlotte Lennox. She could not, however, help laughing at the
+vile English into which they were translated. Her own style is very
+agreeable; nor are her letters at all the worse for some passages in
+which raillery and tenderness are mixed in a very engaging namby-pamby.
+
+"When at last the constancy of the lovers had triumphed over all the
+obstacles which kinsmen and rivals could oppose to their union, a yet
+more serious calamity befell them. Poor Mistress Osborne fell ill of
+the small-pox, and, though she escaped with life, lost all her beauty.
+To this most severe trial the affection and honour of the lovers of that
+age was not unfrequently subjected. Our readers probably remember what
+Mrs. Hutchinson tells us of herself. The lofty Cornelia-like spirit of
+the aged matron seems to melt into a long forgotten softness when she
+relates how her beloved Colonel 'married her as soon as she was able to
+quit the chamber, when the priest and all that saw her were affrighted
+to look on her. But God,' she adds, with a not ungraceful vanity,
+'recompensed his justice and constancy by restoring her as well as
+before.' Temple showed on this occasion the same justice and constancy
+which did so much honour to Colonel Hutchinson. The date of the marriage
+is not exactly known, but Mr. Courtenay supposes it to have taken place
+about the end of the year 1654. From this time we lose sight of Dorothy,
+and are reduced to form our opinion of the terms on which she and her
+husband were from very slight indications which may easily mislead us."
+
+When an editor is in the pleasant position of being able to retain an
+historian of the eminence of Macaulay to write a large portion of his
+introduction, it would ill become him to alter and correct his
+statements wherever there was a petty inaccuracy; still it is necessary
+to say, once for all, that there are occasional errors in the
+passage,--as where Macaulay mentions that Chicksands is no longer the
+property of the Osbornes,--though happily not one of these errors is in
+itself important. To our thinking, too, in the character that he draws
+of our heroine, Macaulay hardly appears to be sufficiently aware of the
+sympathetic womanly nature of Dorothy, and the dignity of her
+disposition; so that he is persuaded to speak of her too constantly from
+the position of a man of the world praising with patronizing emphasis
+the pretty qualities of a school-girl. But we must remember, that in
+forming our estimate of her character, we have an extended series of
+letters before us; and from these the reader can draw his own
+conclusions as to the accuracy of Macaulay's description, and the
+importance of Dorothy's character.
+
+It was this passage from Macaulay that led the Editor to Courtenay's
+Appendix, and it was the literary and human charm of the letters
+themselves that suggested the idea of stringing them together into a
+connected story or sketch of the love affairs of Dorothy Osborne. This
+was published in April 1886 in the _English Illustrated Magazine_, and
+happened, by good luck, to fall into the hands of an admirer of Dorothy,
+who, having had access to the original letters, had made faithful and
+loving copies of each one,--accurate even to the old-world spelling.
+These labours had been followed up by much patient research, the fruits
+of which were now to be generously offered to the present Editor on
+condition that he would prepare the letters for the press. The owner of
+the letters having courteously expressed his acquiescence, nothing
+remained but to give to the task that patient care that it is easy to
+give to a labour of love.
+
+A few words of explanation as to the arrangement of the letters.
+Although few of them were dated, it was found possible, by minute
+analysis of their contents, to place them in approximately correct
+order; and if one could not date each letter, one could at least assign
+groups of letters to specific months or seasons of the year. The fact
+that New Year's day was at this period March 25--a fact sometimes
+ignored by antiquarians of high repute--adds greatly to the difficulty
+of ascertaining exact dates, and as an instance of this we find in
+different chronicles of authority Sir Peter Osborne's death correctly,
+yet differently, given as happening in March 1653 and March 1654.
+Throughout this volume the ordinary New Year's day has been retained.
+The further revision and preparation that the letters have undergone is
+shortly this. The spelling has been modernized, the letters punctuated
+and arranged in paragraphs, and names indicated by initials have been,
+wherever it was possible, written in full. A note has been prefixed to
+each letter, printed in a more condensed form than the letter itself,
+and dealing with all the allusions contained in it. This system is very
+fit to be applied to Dorothy's letters, because, by its use, Dorothy is
+left to tell her own story without the constant and irritating
+references to footnotes or Appendix notes that other arrangements
+necessitate. The Editor has a holy horror of the footnote, and would
+have it relegated to those "_biblia a-biblia_" from which class he is
+sure Elia would cheerfully except Dorothy's letters. In the notes
+themselves the endeavour has been to obtain, where it was possible,
+parallel references to letters, diaries, or memoirs, and the Editor can
+only regret that his researches, through both MSS. and printed records,
+have been so little successful. In the case of well-known men like
+Algernon Sydney, Lord Manchester, Edmund Waller, etc., no attempt has
+been made to write a complete note,--their lives and works being
+sufficiently well known; but in the case of more obscure persons,--as,
+for instance, Dorothy's brother-in-law, Sir Thomas Peyton,--all the
+known details of their history have been carefully collected. Yet in
+spite of patience, toil, and the kindness of learned friends, the Editor
+is bound to acknowledge that some names remain mere words to him, and
+but too many allusions are mysteriously dim.
+
+The division of the letters into chapters, at first sight an arbitrary
+arrangement, really follows their natural grouping. The letters were
+written in the years 1653 and 1654, and form a clear and connected story
+of the love affairs of the young couple during that time. The most
+important group of letters, both from the number of letters contained in
+it and the contents of the letters themselves, is that entitled "Life at
+Chicksands, 1653." The Editor regards this group as the very mainland of
+the epistolary archipelago that we are exploring. For it is in this
+chapter that a clear idea of the domestic social life of these troublous
+times is obtainable, none the less valuable in that it does not tally
+altogether with our preconceived and too romantic notions. Here, too, we
+find what Macaulay longed for--those social domestic trivialities which
+the historians have at length begun to value rightly. Here are, indeed,
+many things of no value to Dryasdust and his friends, but of moment to
+us, who look for and find true details of life and character in nearly
+every line. And above all things, here is a living presentment of a
+beautiful woman, pure in dissolute days, passing quiet hours of domestic
+life amongst her own family, where we may all visit her and hear her
+voice, even in the very tones in which she spoke to her lover.
+
+And now the Editor feels he must augment Macaulay's sketch of Dorothy
+Osborne with some account of the Osborne family, of whom it consisted,
+what part it took in the struggle of the day, and what was the past
+position of Dorothy's ancestors. All that can be promised is, that such
+account shall be as concise as may be consistent with clearness and
+accuracy, and that it shall contain nothing but ascertained facts.
+
+There were Osbornes--before there were Osbornes of Chicksands--who,
+coming out of the north, settled at Purleigh in Essex, where we find
+them in the year 1442. From this date, passing lightly over a hundred
+troubled years, we find Peter Osborne, Dorothy's great-grandfather, born
+in 1521. He was Keeper of the Purse to Edward VI., and was twice
+married, his second wife being Alice, sister of Sir John Cheke, a family
+we read of in Dorothy's letters. One of his daughters, named
+Catharine,--he had a well-balanced family of eleven sons and eleven
+daughters,--afterwards married Sir Thomas Cheke. Peter Osborne died in
+1592; and Sir John Osborne, Peter's son and Dorothy's grandfather, was
+the first Osborne of Chicksands. It was he who settled at Chicksands, in
+Bedfordshire, and purchased the neighbouring rectory at Hawnes, to
+restore it to that Church of which he and his family were in truth
+militant members; and having generously built and furnished a parsonage
+house, he presented it in the first place to the celebrated preacher
+Thomas Brightman, who died there in 1607. It is this rectory that in
+1653-54 is in the hands of the Rev. Edward Gibson, who appears from time
+to time in Dorothy's letters, and who was on occasions the medium
+through which Temple's letters reached their destination, and avoided
+falling into the hands of Dorothy's jealous brother. Sir John Osborne
+married Dorothy Barlee, granddaughter of Richard Lord Rich, Lord
+Chancellor of England in the reign of Henry VIII. Sir John was
+Treasurer's Remembrancer in the Exchequer for many years during the
+reign of James I., and was also a Commissioner of the Navy. He died
+November 2, 1628, and was buried in Campton Church,--Chicksands lies
+between the village of Hawnes and Campton,--where a tablet to his memory
+still exists.
+
+Sir John had five sons: Peter, the eldest, Dorothy's father, who
+succeeded him in his hereditary office of Treasurer's Remembrancer;
+Christopher, Thomas, Richard, and Francis,--Francis Osborne may be
+mentioned as having taken the side of the Parliament in the Civil Wars.
+He was Master of the Horse to the Earl of Pembroke, and is noticeable to
+us as the only known relation of Dorothy who published a book. He was
+the author of an _Advice to his Son_, in two parts, and some tracts
+published in 1722, of course long after his death.
+
+Of Sir Peter himself we had at one time thought to write at some length.
+The narrative of his defence of Castle Cornet for the King, embodied in
+his own letters, in the letters and papers of George Carteret, Governor
+of Jersey, in the detailed account left behind by a native of Guernsey,
+and in the State papers of the period, is one of the most interesting
+episodes in an epoch of episodes. But though the collected material for
+some short life of Sir Peter Osborne lies at hand, it seems scarcely
+necessary for the purpose of this book, and so not without reluctance it
+is set aside.
+
+Sir Peter was an ardent loyalist. In his obstinate flesh and blood
+devotion to the house of Stuart he was as sincere and thorough as Sir
+Henry Lee, Sir Geoffrey Peveril, or Kentish Sir Byng. He was the
+incarnation of the malignant of latter-day fiction.
+
+          "King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
+           King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
+           Give a rouse; here's in hell's despite now,
+           King Charles."
+
+To this text his life wrote the comment.
+
+In 1621, James I. created him Lieutenant-Governor of Guernsey. He had
+married Dorothy, sister of Sir John Danvers. Sir John was the younger
+brother and heir to the Earl of Danby, and was a Gentleman of the Privy
+Chamber to the King. Clarendon tells us that he got into debt, and to
+get out of debt found himself in Cromwell's counsel; that he was a
+proud, formal, weak man, between being seduced and a seducer, and that
+he took it to be a high honour to sit on the same bench with Cromwell,
+who employed him and contemned him at once. The Earl of Danby was the
+Governor of Guernsey, and Sir Peter was his lieutenant until 1643, when
+the Earl died, and Sir Peter was made full Governor. It would be in 1643
+that the siege of Castle Cornet began, the same year in which the rents
+of the Chicksands estate were assigned away from their rightful owner to
+one Mr. John Blackstone, M.P. Sir Peter was in his stronghold on a rock
+in the sea; he was for the King. The inhabitants of the island, more
+comfortably situated, were a united party for the Parliament. Thus they
+remained for three years; the King writing to Sir Peter to reduce the
+inhabitants to a state of reason; the Parliament sending instructions to
+the jurats of Guernsey to seize the person of Sir Peter; and the Earl of
+Warwick, prompted, we should suppose, by Sir John Danvers, offering
+terms to Sir Peter which he indignantly rejected. Meanwhile Lady
+Osborne--Dorothy with her, in all probability--was doing her best to
+victual the castle from the mainland, she living at St. Malo during the
+siege. At length, her money all spent, her health broken down, she
+returned to England, and was lost to sight. Sir Peter himself heard
+nothing of her, and her sons in England, who were doing all they could
+for their father among the King's friends, did not know of her
+whereabouts.
+
+In 1646 he resigned his command. He was weary and heavy laden with
+unjust burdens heaped on him by those for whom and with whom he was
+fighting; he was worn out by the siege; by the characteristic treachery
+of the King, who, being unable to assist him, could not refrain from
+sending lying promises instead; and by the malice of his neighbour,
+George Carteret, Governor of Jersey, who himself made free with the
+Guernsey supplies, while writing home to the King that Sir Peter has
+betrayed his trust. Betrayed his trust, indeed, when he and his garrison
+are reduced to "one biscuit a day and a little porrage for supper,"
+together with limpets and herbs in the best mess they can make; nay,
+more, when they have pulled up their floors for firewood, and are dying
+of hunger and want in the stone shell of Castle Cornet for the love of
+their King. However, circumstances and Sir George Carteret were too much
+for him, and, at the request of Prince Charles, he resigned his command
+to Sir Baldwin Wake in May 1646, remaining three years after this date
+at St. Malo, where he did what he was able to supply the wants of the
+castle. Sir Baldwin surrendered the castle to Blake in 1650. It was the
+last fortress to surrender.
+
+In 1649 Sir Peter, finding the promises of reward made by the Prince to
+be as sincere as those of his father, returned to England, and probably
+through the intervention of his father-in-law, who was a strict
+Parliament man, his house and a portion of his estates at Chicksands
+were restored to him. To these he retired, disappointed in spirit,
+feeble in health, soon to be bereft of the company of his wife, who died
+towards the end of 1650, and, but for the constant ministering of his
+daughter Dorothy, living lonely and forgotten, to see the cause for
+which he had fought discredited and dead. He died in March 1654, after a
+long, weary illness. The parish register of Campton describes him as "a
+friend to the poor, a lover of learning, a maintainer of divine
+exercises." There is still an inscription to his memory on a marble
+monument on the north side of the chancel in Campton church.
+
+Sir Peter had seven sons and five daughters. There were only three sons
+living in 1653; the others died young, one laying down his life for the
+King at Hartland in Devonshire, in some skirmish, we must now suppose,
+of which no trace remains. Of those living, Sir John, the eldest son and
+the first baronet, married his cousin Eleanor Danvers, and lived in
+Gloucestershire during his father's life. Henry, afterwards knighted,
+was probably the jealous brother who lived at Chicksands with Dorothy
+and her father, with whom she had many skirmishes, and who wished in his
+kind fraternal way to see his sister well--that is to say,
+wealthily--married. Robert is a younger brother, a year older than
+Dorothy, who died in September 1653, and who did not apparently live at
+Chicksands. Dorothy herself was born in 1627; where, it is impossible to
+say. Sir Peter was presumably at Castle Cornet at that date, but it is
+doubtful if Lady Osborne ever stayed there, the accommodation within its
+walls being straitened and primitive even for that day. Dorothy was
+probably born in England, maybe at Chicksands. Her other sisters had
+married and settled in various parts of England before 1653. Her eldest
+sister (not Anne, as Wotton conjectures) married one Sir Thomas Peyton,
+a Kentish Royalist of some note. What little could be gleaned of his
+actions from amongst Kentish antiquities and history, and such letters
+of his as lie entombed in the MSS. of the British Museum, is set down
+hereafter. He appears to have acted, after her father's death, as
+Dorothy's guardian, and his name occurs more than once in the pages of
+her letters.
+
+So much for the Osbornes of Chicksands; an obstinate, sturdy,
+quick-witted race of Cavaliers; linked by marriage to the great families
+of the land; aristocrats in blood and in spirit, of whom Dorothy was a
+worthy descendant. Let us try now and picture for ourselves their home.
+Chixon, Chikesonds, or Chicksands Priory, Bedfordshire, as it now
+stands,--what a pleasing various art was spelling in olden time,--was,
+in the reign of Edward III., a nunnery, situated then, as now, on a
+slight eminence, with gently rising hills at a short distance behind,
+and a brook running to join the river Ivel, thence the German Ocean,
+along the valley in front of the house. The neighbouring scenery of
+Bedfordshire is on a humble scale, and concerns very little those who do
+not frequent it and live among it, as we must do for the next year or
+more.
+
+The Priory is a low-built sacro-secular edifice, well fitted for
+its former service. Its priestly denizens were turned out in Henry
+VIII.'s monk-hunting reign (1538). To the joy or sorrow of the
+neighbourhood,--who knows now? Granted then to one Richard Snow, of whom
+the records are silent; by him sold, in Elizabeth's reign, to Sir John
+Osborne, Knt., thus becoming the ancestral home of our Dorothy. There is
+a crisp etching of the house in Fisher's _Collections of Bedfordshire_.
+The very exterior of it is Catholic, unpuritanical; no methodism about
+the square windows, set here and there at undecided intervals
+wheresoever they may be wanted. Six attic windows jut out from the
+low-tiled roof. At the corner of the house is a high pinnacled buttress
+rising the full height of the wall; five buttresses flank the side wall,
+built so that they shade the lower windows from the morning sun,--in one
+place reaching to the sill of an upper window. At the further end of the
+wall are two Gothic windows, claustral remnants, lighting now perhaps
+the dining-hall where cousin Molle and Dorothy sat in state, or the
+saloon where the latter received her servants. There are still cloisters
+attached to the house, at the other side of it maybe. Yes, a sleepy
+country house, the warm earth and her shrubs creeping close up to the
+very sills of the lower windows, sending in morning fragrance, I doubt
+not, when Dorothy thrust back the lattice after breakfast. A quiet
+place,--"slow" is the accurate modern epithet for it--"awfully slow;"
+but to Dorothy a quite suitable home, at which she never repines.
+
+This etching by Thomas Fisher, of December 26, 1816, is the more
+valuable to us since the old Chicksands Priory no longer remains, having
+suffered martyrdom at the bloody hands of the restorer. For through this
+partly we have attained to a knowledge of Dorothy's surroundings; and
+through the baronetages, peerages, and the invincible heaps of
+genealogical records, we have gathered some few actual facts necessary
+to be known of Dorothy's relations, her human surroundings, their lives
+and actions. And we shall not find ourselves following Dorothy's story
+with the less interest that we have mastered these details about the
+Osbornes of Chicksands.
+
+Temple, too, claims the consideration at our hands of a few words
+concerning his near relatives and their position in the country. As
+Macaulay tells us, he was born in 1628, the place of his birth being
+Blackfriars in London.
+
+Sir John Temple, his father, was Master of the Rolls and a Privy
+Councillor in Ireland; he was in the confidence of Robert Sidney, Earl
+of Leicester, the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. Algernon Sydney, the
+Earl's son, was well known to Temple, and perhaps to Dorothy. Sir John
+Temple, like his son in after life, refused to look on politics as a
+game in which it was always advisable to play on the winning side, and
+thus we find him opposing the Duke of Ormond in Ireland in 1643, and
+suffering imprisonment as a partisan of the Parliament. In England, in
+1648, when he was member for Chichester, he concurred with the
+Presbyterian vote, thereby causing the more advanced section to look
+askance at him, and he was turned out of the House, or _secluded_, to
+use the elegant parliamentary language of the day. From that time he
+lived in retirement in London until 1654, when, as we read in Dorothy's
+letters, he and his son go over to Ireland. He resumed his office of
+Master of the Rolls, and in August of that year was elected to the Irish
+Parliament as one of the members for Leitrim, Sligo, and Roscommon.
+
+Temple's mother was a sister of Dr. Hammond, to whom one Dr. John
+Collop, a poetaster unknown in these days even by name, begins an ode--
+
+          "Seraphic Doctor, bright evangelist."
+
+The "seraphic Doctor" was rector of Penshurst, near Tunbridge Wells, the
+seat of the Sydneys. From Hammond, who was a zealous adherent of Charles
+I., Temple received much of his early education. When the Parliament
+drove Dr. Hammond from his living, Temple was sent to school at
+Bishop-Stortford; and the rest of his early life, with an account of his
+meeting with Dorothy, has been already set down for us by Macaulay.
+
+Anno Domini sixteen hundred and fifty-three;--let us look round through
+historic mist for landmarks, so that we may know our whereabouts. The
+narrow streets of Worcester had been but lately stained by the blood of
+heaped corpses. Cromwell was meditating an abolition of the Parliament,
+and a practical coronation of himself. The world had ceased to wonder
+at English democracy giving laws to their quondam rulers, and the
+democracy was beginning to be a little tired of itself, to disbelieve in
+its own irksome discipline, and to sigh for the flesh-pots of a modified
+Presbyterian monarchy. Cromwell, indeed, was at the height of his glory,
+his honours lie thick upon him, and now, if ever, he is the regal
+Cromwell that Victor Hugo has portrayed, the uncrowned King of England,
+trampling under foot that sacred liberty, the baseless ideal for which
+so many had fought and bled. He is soon to be Lord Protector. He is
+second to none upon earth. England is again at peace with herself, and
+takes her position as one of the great Powers of Europe; Cromwell is
+England's king. So much for our rulers and politics. Now let us remember
+our friends, those whom we love on account of the work they have done
+for us and bequeathed to us, through which we have learned to know them.
+One of the best beloved and gentlest of these, who by the satire of
+heaven was born into England in these troublous times, was now wandering
+by brook and stream, scarcely annoyed by the uproar and confusion of the
+factions around him. And what he knew of England in these days he has
+left in perhaps the gentlest and most peaceful volume the world has ever
+read. I speak of Master Izaak Walton, who in this year, 1653, published
+the first edition of his _Compleat Angler_, and left a comrade for the
+idle hours of all future ages. Other friends we have, then living, but
+none so intimate or well beloved. Mr. Waller, whom Dorothy may have
+known, Mr. Cowley, Sir Peter Lely,--who painted our heroine's
+portrait,--and Dr. Jeremy Taylor; very courtly and superior persons are
+some of these, and far removed from our world. Milton is too sublime to
+be called our friend, but he was Cromwell's friend at this time. Evelyn,
+too, is already making notes in his journal at Paris and elsewhere; but
+little prattling Pepys has not yet begun diary-making. Other names will
+come to the mind of every reader, but many of these are "people we know
+by name," as the phrase runs, mere acquaintances,--not friends.
+Nevertheless even these leave us some indirect description of their
+time, from which we can look back through the mind's eye to this year of
+grace 1653, in which Dorothy was living and writing. Yes, if we cannot
+actually visualize the past, these letters will at least convince us
+that the past did exist, a past not wholly unlike the present; and if we
+would realize the significance of it, we have the word of one of our
+historians, that there is no lamp by which to study the history of this
+period that gives a brighter and more searching light than contemporary
+letters. Thus he recommends their study, and we may apply his words to
+the letters before us: "A man intent to force for himself some path
+through that gloomy chaos called History of the Seventeenth Century, and
+to look face to face upon the same, may perhaps try it by this method as
+hopefully as by another. Here is an irregular row of beacon fires, once
+all luminous as suns; and with a certain inextinguishable crubescence
+still, in the abysses of the dead deep Night. Let us look here. In
+shadowy outlines, in dimmer and dimmer crowding forms, the very figure
+of the old dead Time itself may perhaps be faintly discernible here."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+With this, I feel that I may cast off some of the forms and solemnities
+necessary to an editorial introduction, and, assuming a simpler and more
+personal pronoun, ask the reader, who shall feel the full charm of
+Dorothy's bright wit and tender womanly sympathy, to remember the thanks
+due to my fellow-servant, whose patient, single-hearted toil has placed
+these letters within our reach. And when the reader shall close this
+volume, let it not be without a feeling of gratitude to the unknown,
+whose modesty alone prevents me from changing the title of
+fellow-servant to that of fellow-editor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+EARLY LETTERS. WINTER AND SPRING 1652-53
+
+
+This first chapter begins with a long letter, dated from Chicksands some
+time in the autumn of 1652, when Temple has returned to England after a
+long absence. It takes us up to March 1653, about the end of which time
+Dorothy went to London and met Temple again. The engagement she mentions
+must have been one that her parents were forcing upon her, and it was
+not until the London visit, I fancy, that her friendship progressed
+beyond its original limits; but in this matter the reader of Dorothy's
+letters will be as well able to judge as myself.
+
+_Letter I._--Goring House, where Dorothy and Temple had last parted, was
+in 1646 appointed by the House of Commons for the reception of the
+French Ambassador. In 1665 it was the town house of Mr. Secretary
+Bennet, afterwards Lord Arlington. Its grounds stood much in the
+position of the present Arlington Street, and Evelyn speaks of it as an
+ill-built house, but capable of being made a pretty villa.
+
+Dorothy mentions, among other things, that she has been "drinking the
+waters," though she does not say at what place. It would be either at
+Barnet, Epsom, or Tunbridge, all of which places are mentioned by
+contemporary letter-writers as health resorts. At Barnet there was a
+calcareous spring with a small portion of sea salt in it, which, as we
+may gather from a later letter, had been but recently discovered. This
+spring was afterwards, in the year 1677, endowed by one John Owen, who
+left the sum of L1 to keep the well in repair "as long as it should be
+of service to the parish." Towards the end of last century, Lyson
+mentions that the well was in decay and little used. One wonders what
+has become of John Owen's legacy. The Epsom spring had been discovered
+earlier in the century. It was the first of its kind found in England.
+The town was already a place of fashionable resort on account of its
+mineral waters; they are mentioned as of European celebrity; and as
+early as 1609 a ball-room was erected, avenues were planted, and neither
+Bath nor Tunbridge could rival Epsom in the splendour of their
+appointments. Towards the beginning of the last century, however, the
+waters gradually lost their reputation. Tunbridge Wells, the last of the
+three watering-places that Dorothy may have visited, is still
+flourishing and fashionable. Its springs are said to have been
+discovered by Lord North in 1606; and the fortunes of the place were
+firmly established by a visit paid to the springs by Queen Henrietta
+Maria, acting under medical advice, in 1630, shortly after the birth of
+Prince Charles. At this date there was no adequate accommodation for the
+royal party, and Her Majesty had to live in tents on the banks of the
+spring. An interesting account of the early legends and gradual growth
+of Tunbridge Wells is to be found in a guide-book of 1768, edited by
+one Mr. J. Sprange.
+
+The elderly man who proposed to Dorothy was Sir Justinian Isham, Bart.,
+of Lamport in Northamptonshire. He himself was about forty-two years of
+age at this time, and had lost his first wife (by whom he had four
+daughters) in 1638. The Rev. W. Betham, with that optimism which is
+characteristic of compilers of peerages, thinks "that he was esteemed
+one of the most accomplished persons of the time, being a gentleman, not
+only of fine learning, but famed for his piety and exemplary life."
+Dorothy thinks otherwise, and writes of him as "the vainest,
+impertinent, self-conceited, learned coxcomb that ever yet I saw."
+Peerages in Dorothy's style would perhaps be unprofitable writing. The
+"Emperor," as Dorothy calls him in writing to Temple, may feel thankful
+that his epitaph was in others hands than hers. He appears to have
+proposed to her more than once, and evidently had her brother's good
+offices, which I fear were not much in his favour with Dorothy. He
+ultimately married the daughter of Thomas Lord Leigh of Stoneleigh, some
+time in the following year.
+
+Sir Thomas Osborne, a Yorkshire baronet, afterwards Earl of Danby, is a
+name not unknown in history. He was a cousin of Dorothy; his mother,
+Elizabeth Danvers, being Dorothy's aunt. He afterwards married Lady
+Bridget Lindsay, the Earl of Lindsay's daughter, and the marriage is
+mentioned in due course, with Dorothy's comments. His leadership of the
+"Country Party," when the reins of government were taken from the
+discredited Cabal, is not matter for these pages, neither are we much
+concerned to know that he was greedy of wealth and honours, corrupt
+himself, and a corrupter of others. This is the conventional character
+of all statesmen of all dates and in all ages, reflected in the mirror
+of envious opposition; no one believes the description to be true.
+Judged by the moral standard of his contemporaries, he seems to have
+been at least of average height. How near was Dorothy to the high places
+of the State when this man and Henry Cromwell were among her suitors!
+Had she been an ambitious woman, illustrious historians would have
+striven to do justice to her character in brilliant periods, and there
+would be no need at this day for her to claim her place among the
+celebrated women of England.
+
+
+SIR,--There is nothing moves my charity like gratitude; and when a
+beggar is thankful for a small relief, I always repent it was not more.
+But seriously, this place will not afford much towards the enlarging of
+a letter, and I am grown so dull with living in't (for I am not willing
+to confess yet I was always so) as to need all helps. Yet you shall see
+I will endeavour to satisfy you, upon condition you will tell me why you
+quarrelled so at your last letter. I cannot guess at it, unless it were
+that you repented you told me so much of your story, which I am not apt
+to believe neither, because it would not become our friendship, a great
+part of it consisting (as I have been taught) in a mutual confidence.
+And to let you see that I believe it so, I will give you an account of
+myself, and begin my story, as you did yours, from our parting at Goring
+House.
+
+I came down hither not half so well pleased as I went up, with an
+engagement upon me that I had little hope of shaking off, for I had made
+use of all the liberty my friends would allow me to preserve my own, and
+'twould not do; he was so weary of his, that he would part with it upon
+any terms. As my last refuge I got my brother to go down with him to see
+his house, who, when he came back, made the relation I wished. He said
+the seat was as ill as so good a country would permit, and the house so
+ruined for want of living in't, as it would ask a good proportion of
+time and money to make it fit for a woman to confine herself to. This
+(though it were not much) I was willing to take hold of, and made it
+considerable enough to break the engagement. I had no quarrel to his
+person or his fortune, but was in love with neither, and much out of
+love with a thing called marriage; and have since thanked God I was so,
+for 'tis not long since one of my brothers writ me word of him that he
+was killed in a duel, though since I have heard that 'twas the other
+that was killed, and he is fled upon 't, which does not mend the matter
+much. Both made me glad I had 'scaped him, and sorry for his misfortune,
+which in earnest was the least return his many civilities to me could
+deserve.
+
+Presently, after this was at an end, my mother died, and I was left at
+liberty to mourn her loss awhile. At length my aunt (with whom I was
+when you last saw me) commanded me to wait on her at London; and when I
+came, she told me how much I was in her care, how well she loved me for
+my mother's sake, and something for my own, and drew out a long set
+speech which ended in a good motion (as she call'd it); and truly I saw
+no harm in't, for by what I had heard of the gentleman I guessed he
+expected a better fortune than mine. And it proved so. Yet he protested
+he liked me so well, that he was very angry my father would not be
+persuaded to give L1000 more with me; and I him so ill, that I vowed if
+I had L1000 less I should have thought it too much for him. And so we
+parted. Since, he has made a story with a new mistress that is worth
+your knowing, but too long for a letter. I'll keep it for you.
+
+After this, some friends that had observed a gravity in my face which
+might become an elderly man's wife (as they term'd it) and a
+mother-in-law, proposed a widower to me, that had four daughters, all
+old enough to be my sisters; but he had a great estate, was as fine a
+gentleman as ever England bred, and the very pattern of wisdom. I that
+knew how much I wanted it, thought this the safest place for me to
+engage in, and was mightily pleased to think I had met with one at last
+that had wit enough for himself and me too. But shall I tell you what I
+thought when I knew him (you will say nothing on't): 'twas the vainest,
+impertinent, self-conceited, learned coxcomb that ever yet I saw; to say
+more were to spoil his marriage, which I hear is towards with a daughter
+of my Lord Coleraine's; but for his sake I shall take care of a fine
+gentleman as long as I live.
+
+Before I have quite ended with him, coming to town about that and some
+other occasions of my own, I fell in Sir Thomas's way; and what humour
+took I cannot imagine, but he made very formal addresses to me, and
+engaged his mother and my brother to appear in't. This bred a story
+pleasanter than any I have told you yet, but so long a one that I must
+reserve it till we meet, or make it a letter of itself.
+
+The next thing I designed to be rid on was a scurvy spleen that I have
+been subject to, and to that purpose was advised to drink the waters.
+There I spent the latter end of the summer, and at my coming home found
+that a gentleman (who has some estate in this country) had been treating
+with my brother, and it yet goes on fair and softly. I do not know him
+so much as to give you much of his character: 'tis a modest, melancholy,
+reserved man, whose head is so taken up with little philosophic studies,
+that I admire how I found a room there. 'Twas sure by chance; and unless
+he is pleased with that part of my humour which other people think the
+worst, 'tis very possible the next new experiment may crowd me out
+again. Thus you have all my late adventures, and almost as much as this
+paper will hold. The rest shall be employed in telling you how sorry I
+am you have got such a cold. I am the more sensible of your trouble by
+my own, for I have newly got one myself. But I will send you that which
+was to cure me. 'Tis like the rest of my medicines: if it do no good,
+'twill be sure to do no harm, and 'twill be no great trouble to take a
+little on't now and then; for the taste on't, as it is not excellent, so
+'tis not very ill. One thing more I must tell you, which is that you are
+not to take it ill that I mistook your age by my computation of your
+journey through this country; for I was persuaded t'other day that I
+could not be less than thirty years old by one that believed it himself,
+because he was sure it was a great while since he had heard of such a
+one as
+
+Your humble servant.
+
+
+_Letter 2._--This letter, which is dated, comes, I think, at some
+distance of time from the first letter. Dorothy may have dated her
+letters to ordinary folk; but as she writes to her servant once a week
+at least, she seems to have considered dates to be superfluous. When
+Temple is in Ireland, her letters are generally dated with the day of
+the month. Temple had probably returned from a journey into
+Yorkshire,--his travels in Holland were over some time ago,--and passing
+through Bedford within ten miles of Chicksands, he neglected to pay his
+respects to Dorothy, for which he is duly called to account in Letter 3.
+
+
+_December 24, 1652._
+
+Sir,--You may please to let my old servant (as you call him) know that I
+confess I owe much to his merits and the many obligations his kindness
+and civilities has laid upon me; but for the ten pound he claims, it is
+not yet due, and I think you may do well to persuade him (as a friend)
+to put it in the number of his desperate debts, for 'tis a very
+uncertain one. In all things else, pray say I am his servant. And now,
+sir, let me tell you that I am extremely glad (whosoever gave you the
+occasion) to hear from you, since (without compliment) there are very
+few persons in the world I am more concerned in; to find that you have
+overcome your long journey, and that you are well and in a place where
+'tis possible for me to see you, is such a satisfaction as I, who have
+not been used to many, may be allowed to doubt of. Yet I will hope my
+eyes do not deceive me, and that I have not forgot to read; but if you
+please to confirm it to me by another, you know how to direct it, for I
+am where I was, still the same, and always
+
+Your humble servant,
+
+D. OSBORNE.
+
+For Mrs. Paynter,
+In Covent Garden.
+
+(Keep this letter till it be called for.)
+
+
+_Letter 3._
+
+
+_January 2nd, 1653._
+
+Sir,--If there were anything in my letter that pleased you I am
+extremely glad on't, 'twas all due to you, and made it but an equal
+return for the satisfaction yours gave me. And whatsoever you may
+believe, I shall never repent the good opinion I have with so much
+reason taken up. But I forget myself; I meant to chide, and I think this
+is nothing towards it. Is it possible you came so near me as Bedford and
+would not see me? Seriously, I should not have believed it from another;
+would your horse had lost all his legs instead of a hoof, that he might
+not have been able to carry you further, and you, something that you
+valued extremely, and could not hope to find anywhere but at Chicksands.
+I could wish you a thousand little mischances, I am so angry with you;
+for my life I could not imagine how I had lost you, or why you should
+call that a silence of six or eight weeks which you intended so much
+longer. And when I had wearied myself with thinking of all the
+unpleasing accidents that might cause it, I at length sat down with a
+resolution to choose the best to believe, which was that at the end of
+one journey you had begun another (which I had heard you say you
+intended), and that your haste, or something else, had hindered you from
+letting me know it. In this ignorance your letter from Breda found me.
+But for God's sake let me ask you what you have done all this while you
+have been away; what you have met with in Holland that could keep you
+there so long; why you went no further; and why I was not to know you
+went so far? You may do well to satisfy me in all these. I shall so
+persecute you with questions else, when I see you, that you will be glad
+to go thither again to avoid me; though when that will be I cannot
+certainly say, for my father has so small a proportion of health left
+him since my mother's death, that I am in continual fear of him, and
+dare not often make use of the leave he gives me to be from home, lest
+he should at some time want such little services as I am able to lend
+him. Yet I think to be in London in the next term, and am sure I shall
+desire it because you are there.
+
+Sir, your humble servant.
+
+
+_Letter 4._--The story of the king who renounced the league with his too
+fortunate friend is told in the third book of Herodotus. Amasis is the
+king, and Polycrates the confederate. Dorothy may have read the story in
+one of the French translations, either that of Pierre Saliat, a cramped
+duodecimo published in 1580, or that of P. du Ryer, a magnificent folio
+published in 1646.
+
+My Lord of Holland's daughter, Lady Diana Rich, was one of Dorothy's
+dearest and most intimate friends. Dorothy had a high opinion of her
+excellent wit and noble character, which she is never tired of
+repeating. We find allusions to her in many of these letters; she is
+called "My lady," and her name is always linked to expressions of
+tenderness and esteem. Her father, Henry Rich, Lord Holland, the second
+son of the Earl of Warwick, has found place in sterner history than
+this. He was concerned in a rising in 1648, when the King was in the
+Isle of Wight, the object of which was to rescue and restore the royal
+prisoner. This rising, like Sir Thomas Peyton's, miscarried, and he
+suffered defeat at Kingston-on-Thames, on July 7th of that year. He was
+pursued, taken prisoner, and kept in the Tower until after the King's
+execution. Then he was brought to trial, and, in accordance with the
+forms and ceremonies of justice, adjudged to death. His head was struck
+off before the gate of Westminster Hall one cold March morning in the
+following year, and by his side died Capel and the Duke of Hamilton. By
+marriage he acquired Holland House, Kensington, which afterwards passed
+by purchase into the hands of a very different Lord Holland, and has
+become famous among the houses of London. Of his daughter, Lady Diana, I
+can learn nothing but that she died unmarried. She seems to have been of
+a lively, vivacious temperament, and very popular with the other sex.
+There is a slight clue to her character in the following scrap of
+letter-writing still preserved among some old manuscript papers of the
+Hutton family. She writes to Mr. Hutton to escort her in the Park,
+adding--"This, I am sure, you will do, because I am a friend to the
+tobacco-box, and such, I am sure, Mr. Hutton will have more respect for
+than for any other account that could be pretended unto by
+
+"Your humble servant."
+
+This, with Dorothy's praise, gives us a cheerful opinion of Lady Diana,
+of whom we must always wish to know more.
+
+
+_January 22nd_ [1653].
+
+Sir,--Not to confirm you in your belief in dreams, but to avoid your
+reproaches, I will tell you a pleasant one of mine. The night before I
+received your first letter, I dreamt one brought me a packet, and told
+me it was from you. I, that remembered you were by your own appointment
+to be in Italy at that time, asked the messenger where he had it, who
+told me my lady, your mother, sent him with it to me; then my memory
+failed me a little, for I forgot you had told me she was dead, and meant
+to give her many humble thanks if ever I were so happy as to see her.
+When I had opened the letter I found in it two rings; one was, as I
+remember, an emerald doublet, but broken in the carriage, I suppose, as
+it might well be, coming so far; t'other was plain gold, with the
+longest and the strangest posy that ever was; half on't was Italian,
+which for my life I could not guess at, though I spent much time about
+it; the rest was "_there was a Marriage in Cana of Galilee_," which,
+though it was Scripture, I had not that reverence for it in my sleep
+that I should have had, I think, if I had been awake; for in earnest the
+oddness on't put me into that violent laughing that I waked myself with
+it; and as a just punishment upon me from that hour to this I could
+never learn whom those rings were for, nor what was in the letter
+besides. This is but as extravagant as yours, for it is as likely that
+your mother should send me letters as that I should make a journey to
+see poor people hanged, or that your teeth should drop out at this age.
+
+And to remove the opinions you have of my niceness, or being hard to
+please, let me assure you I am far from desiring my husband should be
+fond of me at threescore, that I would not have him so at all. 'Tis true
+I should be glad to have him always kind, and know no reason why he
+should be wearier of being my master, than he was of being my servant.
+But it is very possible I may talk ignorantly of marriage; when I come
+to make sad experiments on it in my own person I shall know more, and
+say less, for fear of disheartening others (since 'tis no advantage to
+foreknow a misfortune that cannot be avoided), and for fear of being
+pitied, which of all things I hate. Lest you should be of the same
+humour I will not pity you, lame as you are; and to speak truth, if you
+did like it, you should not have it, for you do not deserve it. Would
+any one in the world, but you, make such haste for a new cold before the
+old had left him; in a year, too, when mere colds kill as many as a
+plague used to do? Well, seriously, either resolve to have more care of
+yourself, or I renounce my friendship; and as a certain king (that my
+learned knight is very well acquainted with), who, seeing one of his
+confederates in so happy a condition as it was not likely to last, sent
+his ambassador presently to break off the league betwixt them, lest he
+should be obliged to mourn the change of his fortune if he continued his
+friend; so I, with a great deal more reason, do declare that I will no
+longer be a friend to one that's none to himself, nor apprehend the loss
+of what you hazard every day at tennis. They had served you well enough
+if they had crammed a dozen ounces of that medicine down your throat to
+have made you remember a quinzy.
+
+But I have done, and am now at leisure to tell you that it is that
+daughter of my Lord of Holland (who makes, as you say, so many sore eyes
+with looking on her) that is here; and if I know her at all, or have any
+judgment, her beauty is the least of her excellences. And now I speak of
+her, she has given me the occasion to make a request to you; it will
+come very seasonably after my chiding, and I have great reason to expect
+you should be in the humour of doing anything for me. She says that
+seals are much in fashion, and by showing me some that she has, has set
+me a-longing for some too; such as are oldest and oddest are most
+prized, and if you know anybody that is lately come out of Italy, 'tis
+ten to one but they have a store, for they are very common there. I do
+remember you once sealed a letter to me with as fine a one as I have
+seen. It was a Neptune, I think, riding upon a dolphin; but I'm afraid
+it was not yours, for I saw it no more. My old Roman head is a present
+for a prince. If such things come in your way, pray remember me. I am
+sorry my new carrier makes you rise so early, 'tis not good for your
+cold; how might we do that you might lie a-bed and yet I have your
+letter? You must use to write before he comes, I think, that it may be
+sure to be ready against he goes. In earnest consider on't, and take
+some course that your health and my letters may be both secured, for the
+loss of either would be very sensible to
+
+Your humble.
+
+
+_Letter 5._--Sir Justinian is the lover here described. He had four
+daughters, and it is one of Dorothy's favourite jests to offer Temple a
+mother-in-law's good word if he will pay court to one of them when she
+has married the "Emperor."
+
+
+SIR,--Since you are so easy to please, sure I shall not miss it, and if
+my idle dreams and thoughts will satisfy you, I am to blame if you want
+long letters. To begin this, let me tell you I had not forgot you in
+your absence. I always meant you one of my daughters. You should have
+had your choice, and, trust me, they say some of them are handsome; but
+since things did not succeed, I thought to have said nothing on't, lest
+you should imagine I expected thanks for my good intention, or rather
+lest you should be too much affected with the thought of what you have
+lost by my imprudence. It would have been a good strengthening to my
+Party (as you say); but, in earnest, it was not that I aimed at, I only
+desired to have it in my power to oblige you; and 'tis certain I had
+proved a most excellent mother-in-law. Oh, my conscience! we should all
+have joined against him as the common enemy, for those poor young
+wenches are as weary of his government as I could have been. He gives
+them such precepts, as they say my Lord of Dorchester gives his wife,
+and keeps them so much prisoners to a vile house he has in
+Northamptonshire, that if but once I had let them loose, they and his
+learning would have been sufficient to have made him mad without my
+help; but his good fortune would have it otherwise, to which I will
+leave him, and proceed to give you some reasons why the other motion was
+not accepted on. The truth is, I had not that longing to ask a
+mother-in-law's blessing which you say you should have had, for I knew
+mine too well to think she could make a good one; besides, I was not so
+certain of his nature as not to doubt whether she might not corrupt it,
+nor so confident of his kindness as to assure myself that it would last
+longer than other people of his age and humour. I am sorry to hear he
+looks ill, though I think there is no great danger of him. 'Tis but a
+fit of an ague he has got, that the next charm cures, yet he will be apt
+to fall into it again upon a new occasion, and one knows not how it may
+work upon his thin body if it comes too often; it spoiled his beauty,
+sure, before I knew him, for I could never see it, or else (which is as
+likely) I do not know it when I see it; besides that, I never look for
+it in men. It was nothing that I expected made me refuse these, but
+something that I feared; and, seriously, I find I want courage to marry
+where I do not like. If we should once come to disputes I know who would
+have the worst on't, and I have not faith enough to believe a doctrine
+that is often preach'd, which is, that though at first one has no
+kindness for _them_, yet it will grow strongly after marriage. Let them
+trust to it that think good; for my part, I am clearly of opinion (and
+shall die in't), that, as the more one sees and knows a person that one
+likes, one has still the more kindness for them, so, on the other side,
+one is but the more weary of, and the more averse to, an unpleasant
+humour for having it perpetually by one. And though I easily believe
+that to marry one for whom we have already some affection will
+infinitely increase that kindness, yet I shall never be persuaded that
+marriage has a charm to raise love out of nothing, much less out of
+dislike.
+
+This is next to telling you what I dreamed and when I rise, but you have
+promised to be content with it. I would now, if I could, tell you when I
+shall be in town, but I am engaged to my Lady Diana Rich, my Lord of
+Holland's daughter (who lies at a gentlewoman's hard by me for sore
+eyes), that I will not leave the country till she does. She is so much a
+stranger here, and finds so little company, that she is glad of mine
+till her eyes will give her leave to look out better. They are mending,
+and she hopes to be at London before the end of this next term; and so
+do I, though I shall make but a short stay, for all my business there is
+at an end when I have seen you, and told you my stories. And, indeed, my
+brother is so perpetually from home, that I can be very little, unless I
+would leave my father altogether alone, which would not be well. We hear
+of great disorders at your masks, but no particulars, only they say the
+Spanish gravity was much discomposed. I shall expect the relation from
+you at your best leisure, and pray give me an account how my medicine
+agrees with your cold. This if you can read it, for 'tis strangely
+scribbled, will be enough to answer yours, which is not very long this
+week; and I am grown so provident that I will not lay out more than I
+receive, but I am just withal, and therefore you know how to make mine
+longer when you please; though, to speak truth, if I should make this
+so, you would hardly have it this week, for 'tis a good while since
+'twas call'd for.
+
+Your humble servant.
+
+
+_Letter 6._--The journey that Temple is about to take may be a projected
+journey with the Swedish Embassy, which was soon to set out. Temple was,
+apparently, on the look-out for some employment, and we hear at
+different times of his projected excursions into foreign lands. As a
+matter of fact, he stayed in and near London until the spring of 1654,
+when he went to Ireland with his father, who was then reinstated in his
+office of Master of the Rolls.
+
+Whether the Mr. Grey here written of made love to one or both of the
+ladies--Jane Seymour and Anne Percy--it is difficult now to say. I have
+been able to learn nothing more on the subject than Dorothy tells us.
+This, however, we know for certain, that they both married elsewhere;
+Lady Jane Seymour, the Duke of Somerset's daughter, marrying Lord
+Clifford of Lonesborough, the son of the Earl of Burleigh, and living to
+1679, when she was buried in Westminster Abbey. Poor Lady Anne Percy,
+daughter of the Earl of Northumberland, and niece of the faithless Lady
+Carlisle of whom we read in these letters, was already married at this
+date to Lord Stanhope, Lord Chesterfield's heir. She died--probably in
+childbed--in November of next year (1654), and was buried at Petworth
+with her infant son.
+
+Lady Anne Wentworth was the daughter of the famous and ill-fated Earl of
+Strafford. She married Lord Rockingham.
+
+The reader will remember that "my lady" is Lady Diana Rich.
+
+
+_March 5th_ [1653].
+
+SIR,--I know not how to oblige so civil a person as you are more than by
+giving you the occasion of serving a fair lady. In sober earnest, I know
+you will not think it a trouble to let your boy deliver these books and
+this enclosed letter where it is directed for my lady, whom I would, the
+fainest in the world, have you acquainted with, that you might judge
+whether I had not reason to say somebody was to blame. But had you
+reason to be displeased that I said a change in you would be much more
+pardonable than in him? Certainly you had not. I spake it very
+innocently, and out of a great sense how much she deserves more than
+anybody else. I shall take heed though hereafter what I write, since you
+are so good at raising doubts to persecute yourself withal, and shall
+condemn my own easy faith no more; for me 'tis a better-natured and a
+less fault to believe too much than to distrust where there is no cause.
+If you were not so apt to quarrel, I would tell you that I am glad to
+hear your journey goes forwarder, but you would presently imagine that
+'tis because I would be glad if you were gone; need I say that 'tis
+because I prefer your interest much before my own, because I would not
+have you lose so good a diversion and so pleasing an entertainment (as
+in all likelihood this voyage will be to you), and because the sooner
+you go, the sooner I may hope for your return. If it be necessary, I
+will confess all this, and something more, which is, that
+notwithstanding all my gallantry and resolution, 'tis much for my credit
+that my courage is put to no greater a trial than parting with you at
+this distance. But you are not going yet neither, and therefore we'll
+leave the discourse on't till then, if you please, for I find no great
+entertainment in't. And let me ask you whether it be possible that Mr.
+Grey makes love, they say he does, to my Lady Jane Seymour? If it were
+expected that one should give a reason for their passions, what could he
+say for himself? He would not offer, sure, to make us believe my Lady
+Jane a lovelier person than my Lady Anne Percy. I did not think I should
+have lived to have seen his frozen heart melted, 'tis the greatest
+conquest she will ever make; may it be happy to her, but in my opinion
+he has not a good-natured look. The younger brother was a servant, a
+great while, to my fair neighbour, but could not be received; and in
+earnest I could not blame her. I was his confidante and heard him make
+his addresses; not that I brag of the favour he did me, for anybody
+might have been so that had been as often there, and he was less
+scrupulous in that point than one would have been that had had less
+reason. But in my life I never heard a man say more, nor less to the
+purpose; and if his brother have not a better gift in courtship, he will
+owe my lady's favour to his fortune rather than to his address. My Lady
+Anne Wentworth I hear is marrying, but I cannot learn to whom; nor is it
+easy to guess who is worthy of her. In my judgment she is, without
+dispute, the finest lady I know (one always excepted); not that she is
+at all handsome, but infinitely virtuous and discreet, of a sober and
+very different humour from most of the young people of these times, but
+has as much wit and is as good company as anybody that ever I saw. What
+would you give that I had but the wit to know when to make an end of my
+letters? Never anybody was persecuted with such long epistles; but you
+will pardon my unwillingness to leave you, and notwithstanding all your
+little doubts, believe that I am very much
+
+Your faithful friend
+
+and humble servant,
+
+D. OSBORNE.
+
+
+_Letter 7._--There seem to have been two carriers bringing letters to
+Dorothy at this time, Harrold and Collins; we hear something of each of
+them in the following letters. Those who have seen the present-day
+carriers in some unawakened market-place in the Midlands,--heavy,
+rumbling, two-horse cars of huge capacity, whose three miles an hour is
+fast becoming too sluggish for their enfranchised clients; those who
+have jolted over the frozen ruts of a fen road, behind their comfortable
+Flemish horses, and heard the gossip of the farmers and their wives, the
+grunts of the discontented baggage pig, and the encouraging shouts of
+the carrier; those, in a word, who have travelled in a Lincolnshire
+carrier's cart, have, I fancy, a more correct idea of Dorothy's postmen
+and their conveyances than any I could quote from authority or draw from
+imagination.
+
+Lord Lisle was the son of Robert Sidney, Earl of Leicester, and brother
+of the famous Algernon. He sat in the Long Parliament for Yarmouth, in
+the Isle of Wight, and afterwards became a member of the Upper House.
+Concerning his embassage to Sweden this is again proposed to him in
+September 1653, but, as we read in the minutes of the Council, "when he
+was desired to proceed, finding himself out of health, he desired to be
+excused, whereupon Council still wishing to send the embassy--the Queen
+of Sweden being favourably inclined to the Commonwealth--pitched upon
+Lord Whitelocke, who was willing to go."
+
+To Lady Sunderland and Mr. Smith there are several amusing references
+in these letters. Lady Sunderland was the daughter of the Earl of
+Leicester, and sister of Algernon Sydney. She was born in 1620, and at
+the age of nineteen married Henry Lord Spencer, who was killed in the
+battle of Newbury in 1642. After her husband's death, she retired to
+Brington in Northamptonshire, until, wearied with the heavy load of
+housekeeping, she came to live with her father and mother at Penshurst.
+In the Earl of Leicester's journal, under date Thursday, July 8th, 1652,
+we find:--"My daughter Spencer was married to Sir Robert Smith at
+Penshurst, my wife being present with my daughters Strangford, and Lacy
+Pelham, Algernon and Robin Sydney, etc.; but I was in London." From this
+we may imagine the Earl did not greatly approve the match. The
+ubiquitous Evelyn was there, too, to see "ye marriage of my old fellow
+collegian Mr. Robt. Smith;" and the place being full of company, he
+probably enjoyed himself vastly. Lady Sunderland was the Sacharissa of
+Waller the poet.
+
+
+SIR,--I am so great a lover of my bed myself that I can easily apprehend
+the trouble of rising at four o'clock these cold mornings. In earnest,
+I'm troubled that you should be put to it, and have chid the carrier for
+coming out so soon; he swears to me he never comes out of town before
+eleven o'clock, and that my Lady Paynter's footman (as he calls him)
+brings her letters two hours sooner than he needs to do. I told him he
+was gone one day before the letter came; he vows he was not, and that
+your old friend Collins never brought letters of my Lady Paynter's in
+his life; and, to speak truth, Collins did not bring me that letter. I
+had it from this Harrold two hours before Collins came. Yet it is
+possible all that he says may not be so, for I have known better men
+than he lie; therefore if Collins be more for your ease or conveniency,
+make use of him hereafter. I know not whether my letter were kind or
+not, but I'll swear yours was not, and am sure mine was meant to be so.
+It is not kind in you to desire an increase of my friendship; that is to
+doubt it is not as great already as it can be, than which you cannot do
+me a greater injury. 'Tis my misfortune indeed that it lies not in my
+power to give you better testimony on't than words, otherwise I should
+soon convince you that 'tis the best quality I have, and that where I
+own a friendship, I mean so perfect a one, as time can neither lessen
+nor increase. If I said nothing of my coming to town, 'twas because I
+had nothing to say that I thought you would like to hear. For I do not
+know that ever I desired anything earnestly in my life, but 'twas denied
+me, and I am many times afraid to wish a thing merely lest my Fortune
+should take that occasion to use me ill. She cannot see, and therefore I
+may venture to write that I intend to be in London if it be possible on
+Friday or Saturday come sennight. Be sure you do not read it aloud, lest
+she hear it, and prevent me, or drive you away before I come. It is so
+like my luck, too, that you should be going I know not whither again;
+but trust me, I have looked for it ever since I heard you were come
+home. You will laugh, sure, when I shall tell you that hearing that my
+Lord Lisle was to go ambassador into Sweden, I remember'd your father's
+acquaintance in that family with an apprehension that he might be in the
+humour of sending you with him. But for God's sake whither is it that
+you go? I would not willingly be at such a loss again as I was after
+your Yorkshire journey. If it prove as long a one, I shall not forget
+you; but in earnest I shall be so possessed with a strong splenetic
+fancy that I shall never see you more in this world, as all the waters
+in England will not cure. Well, this is a sad story; we'll have no more
+on't.
+
+I humbly thank you for your offer of your head; but if you were an
+emperor, I should not be so bold with you as to claim your promise; you
+might find twenty better employments for't. Only with your gracious
+leave, I think I should be a little exalted with remembering that you
+had been once my friend; 'twould more endanger growing proud than being
+Sir Justinian's mistress, and yet he thought me pretty well inclin'd
+to't then. Lord! what would I give that I had a Latin letter of his for
+you, that he writ to a great friend at Oxford, where he gives him a long
+and learned character of me; 'twould serve you to laugh at this seven
+years. If I remember what was told me on't, the worst of my faults was a
+height (he would not call it pride) that was, as he had heard, the
+humour of my family; and the best of my commendations was, that I was
+capable of being company and conversation for him. But you do not tell
+me yet how you found him out. If I had gone about to conceal him, I had
+been sweetly serv'd. I shall take heed of you hereafter; because there
+is no very great likelihood of your being an emperor, or that, if you
+were, I should have your head.
+
+I have sent into Italy for seals; 'tis to be hoped by that time mine
+come over, they may be of fashion again, for 'tis an humour that your
+old acquaintance Mr. Smith and his lady have brought up; they say she
+wears twenty strung upon a ribbon, like the nuts boys play withal, and I
+do not hear of anything else. Mr. Howard presented his mistress but a
+dozen such seals as are not to be valued as times now go. But _a propos_
+of Monsr. Smith, what a scape has he made of my Lady Barbury; and who
+would e'er have dreamt he should have had my Lady Sunderland, though he
+be a very fine gentleman, and does more than deserve her. I think I
+shall never forgive her one thing she said of him, which was that she
+married him out of pity; it was the pitifullest saying that ever I
+heard, and made him so contemptible that I should not have married him
+for that reason. This is a strange letter, sure, I have not time to read
+it over, but I have said anything that came into my head to put you out
+of your dumps. For God's sake be in better humour, and assure yourself I
+am as much as you can wish,
+
+Your faithful friend and servant.
+
+
+_Letter 8._--The name of Algernon Sydney occurs more than once in these
+pages, and it is therefore only right to remind the reader of some of
+the leading facts in his life. He was born in 1622, and was the second
+son of Robert Earl of Leicester. He was educated in Paris and Italy, and
+first served in the army in Ireland. On his recall to England he
+espoused the popular cause, and fought on that side in the battle of
+Marston Moor. In 1651 he was elected a member of the Council of State,
+and in this situation he continued to act until 1653. It is unnecessary
+to mention his republican sympathies, and after the dismissal of the
+Parliament, his future actions concern us but little. He was arrested,
+tried, and executed in 1683, on the pretence of being concerned in the
+Rye House Plot.
+
+Arundel Howard was Henry, second son of the Earl of Arundel. His father
+died July 12, 1652. Dorothy would call him Arundel Howard, to
+distinguish him from the Earl of Berkshire's family.
+
+
+SIR,--You have made me so rich as I am able to help my neighbours. There
+is a little head cut in an onyx that I take to be a very good one, and
+the dolphin is (as you say) the better for being cut less; the oddness
+of the figures makes the beauty of these things. If you saw one that my
+brother sent my Lady Diana last week, you would believe it were meant to
+fright people withal; 'twas brought out of the Indies, and cut there for
+an idol's head: they took the devil himself for their pattern that did
+it, for in my life I never saw so ugly a thing, and yet she is as fond
+on't as if it were as lovely as she herself is. Her eyes have not the
+flames they have had, nor is she like (I am afraid) to recover them
+here; but were they irrecoverably lost, the beauty of her mind were
+enough to make her outshine everybody else, and she would still be
+courted by all that knew how to value her, like _la belle aveugle_ that
+was Philip the 2nd of France his mistress. I am wholly ignorant of the
+story you mention, and am confident you are not well inform'd, for 'tis
+impossible she should ever have done anything that were unhandsome. If I
+knew who the person were that is concern'd in't, she allows me so much
+freedom with her, that I could easily put her upon the discourse, and I
+do not think she would use much of disguise in it towards me. I should
+have guessed it Algernon Sydney, but that I cannot see in him that
+likelihood of a fortune which you seem to imply by saying 'tis not
+present. But if you should mean by that, that 'tis possible his wit and
+good parts may raise him to one, you must pardon if I am not of your
+opinion, for I do not think these are times for anybody to expect
+preferment in that deserves it, and in the best 'twas ever too uncertain
+for a wise body to trust to. But I am altogether of your mind, that my
+Lady Sunderland is not to be followed in her marrying fashion, and that
+Mr. Smith never appear'd less her servant than in desiring it; to speak
+truth, it was convenient for neither of them, and in meaner people had
+been plain undoing one another, which I cannot understand to be kindness
+of either side. She has lost by it much of the repute she had gained by
+keeping herself a widow; it was then believed that wit and discretion
+were to be reconciled in her person that have so seldom been persuaded
+to meet in anybody else. But we are all mortal.
+
+I did not mean that Howard. 'Twas Arundel Howard. And the seals were
+some remainders that showed his father's love to antiquities, and
+therefore cost him dear enough if that would make them good. I am sorry
+I cannot follow your counsel in keeping fair with Fortune. I am not apt
+to suspect without just cause, but in earnest if I once find anybody
+faulty towards me, they lose me for ever; I have forsworn being twice
+deceived by the same person. For God's sake do not say she has the
+spleen, I shall hate it worse than ever I did, nor that it is a disease
+of the wits, I shall think you abuse me, for then I am sure it would not
+be mine; but were it certain that they went together always, I dare
+swear there is nobody so proud of their wit as to keep it upon such
+terms, but would be glad after they had endured it a while to let them
+both go as they came. I know nothing yet that is likely to alter my
+resolution of being in town on Saturday next; but I am uncertain where I
+shall be, and therefore it will be best that I send you word when I am
+there. I should be glad to see you sooner, but that I do not know myself
+what company I may have with me. I meant this letter longer when I begun
+it, but an extreme cold that I have taken lies so in my head, and makes
+it ache so violently, that I hardly see what I do. I'll e'en to bed as
+soon as I have told you that I am very much
+
+Your faithful friend
+
+and servant,
+
+D. OSBORNE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+LIFE AT CHICKSANDS. 1653
+
+
+_Letter 9._--Temple's sister here mentioned was his only sister Martha,
+who married Sir Thomas Giffard in 1662, and was left a widow within two
+months of her marriage. She afterwards lived with Temple and his wife,
+was a great favourite with them, and their confidential friend. Lady
+Giffard has left a manuscript life of her brother from which the
+historian Courtenay deigned to extract some information, whereby we in
+turn have benefited. She outlived both her brother and his wife, to
+carry on a warlike encounter with her brother's amanuensis, Mr. Jonathan
+Swift, over Temple's literary remains. Esther Johnson, the unfortunate
+Stella, was Lady Giffard's maid.
+
+_Cleopatre_ and _Le Grand Cyrus_ appear to have been Dorothy's literary
+companions at this date. She would read these in the original French;
+and, as she tells us somewhere, had a scorn of translations. Both these
+romances were much admired, even by people of taste; a thing difficult
+to understand, until we remember that Fielding, the first and greatest
+English novelist, was yet unborn, and novels, as we know them,
+non-existing. Both the romances found translators; _Cyrus_, in one
+mysterious F.G. _Gent_--the translation was published in this year;
+_Cleopatre_, in Richard Loveday, an elegant letter-writer of this time.
+
+_Artamenes_, or _Le Grand Cyrus_, the masterpiece of Mademoiselle
+Madeleine de Scuderi, is contained in no less than ten volumes, each of
+which in its turn has many books; it is, in fact, more a collection of
+romances than a single romance. _La Cleopatre_, a similar work, was
+originally published in twenty-three volumes of twelve parts, each part
+containing three or four books. It is but a collection of short stories.
+Its author rejoiced in the romantic title of Gauthier de Costes
+Chevalier Seigneur de la Calprenede; he published _Cleopatre_ in 1642;
+he was the author of other romances, and some tragedies, noted only for
+their worthlessness. Even Richelieu, "quoiqu' admirateur indulgent de la
+mediocrite," could not stand Calprenede's tragedies. _Reine Marguerite_
+is probably the translation by Robert Codrington of the Memorials of
+Margaret of Valois, first wife of Henri IV. Bussy is a servant of the
+Duke of Avenson, Margaret's brother, with whom Margaret is very
+intimate.
+
+Of Lady Sunderland and Mr. Smith we have already sufficient knowledge.
+As for Sir Justinian, we are not to think he was already married; the
+reference to his "new wife" is merely jocular, meaning his new wife when
+he shall get one; for Sir Justinian is still wife-hunting, and comes
+back to renew his suit with Dorothy after this date. "Your
+fellow-servant," who is as often called Jane, appears to have been a
+friend and companion of Dorothy, in a somewhat lower rank of life. Mrs.
+Goldsmith, mentioned in a subsequent letter,--wife of Daniel Goldsmith,
+the rector of Campton, in which parish Chicksands was situated,--acted
+as chaperon or duenna companion to Dorothy, and Jane was, it seems to
+me, in a similar position; only, being a younger woman than the rector's
+wife, she was more the companion and less the duenna. The servants and
+companions of ladies of that date were themselves gentlewomen of good
+breeding. Waller writes verses to Mrs. Braughton, servant to Sacharissa,
+commencing his lines, "Fair fellow-servant." Temple, had he written
+verse to his mistress, would probably have left us some "Lines to Jane."
+
+There is in Campton Church a tablet erected to Daniel Goldsmith,
+"Ecclesiae de Campton Pastor idem et Patronus;" also to Maria Goldsmith,
+"uxor dilectissima." This is erected by Maria's faithful sister, Jane
+Wright; and if the astute reader shall think fit to agree with me in
+believing Temple's "fellow-servant" to be this Jane Wright on such
+slender evidence and slight thread of argument, he may well do so.
+Failing this, all search after Jane will, I fear, prove futile at this
+distant date. There are constant references to Jane in the letters. "Her
+old woman," in the same passage, is, of course, a jocular allusion to
+Dorothy herself; and "the old knight" is, I believe, Sir Robert Cook, a
+Bedfordshire gentleman, of whom nothing is known except that he was
+knighted at Ampthill, July 21st, 1621. We hear some little more of him
+from Dorothy.
+
+Note well the signature of this and following letters; it will help us
+to discover what passed between the friends in London. For my own part,
+I do not think Dorothy means that she has ceased to be _faithful_ in
+that she has become "his _affectionate_ friend and servant."
+
+
+SIR--I was so kind as to write to you by the coachman, and let me tell
+you I think 'twas the greatest testimony of my friendship that I could
+give you; for, trust me, I was so tired with my journey, so _dowd_ with
+my cold, and so out of humour with our parting, that I should have done
+it with great unwillingness to anybody else. I lay abed all next day to
+recover myself, and rised a Thursday to receive your letter with the
+more ceremony. I found no fault with the ill writing, 'twas but too easy
+to read, methought, for I am sure I had done much sooner than I could
+have wished. But, in earnest, I was heartily troubled to find you in so
+much disorder. I would not have you so kind to me as to be cruel to
+yourself, in whom I am more concerned. No; for God's sake, let us not
+make afflictions of such things as these; I am afraid we shall meet with
+too many real ones.
+
+I am glad your journey holds, because I think 'twill be a good diversion
+for you this summer; but I admire your father's patience, that lets you
+rest with so much indifference when there is such a fortune offered.
+I'll swear I have great scruples of conscience myself on the point, and
+am much afraid I am not your friend if I am any part of the occasion
+that hinders you from accepting it. Yet I am sure my intentions towards
+you are very innocent and good, for you are one of those whose interests
+I shall ever prefer much above my own; and you are not to thank me for
+it, since, to speak truth, I secure my own by it; for I defy my ill
+fortune to make me miserable, unless she does it in the persons of my
+friends. I wonder how your father came to know I was in town, unless my
+old friend, your cousin Hammond, should tell him. Pray, for my sake, be
+a very obedient son; all your faults will be laid to my charge else,
+and, alas! I have too many of my own.
+
+You say nothing how your sister does, which makes me hope there is no
+more of danger in her sickness. Pray, when it may be no trouble to her,
+tell her how much I am her servant; and have a care of yourself this
+cold weather. I have read your _Reine Marguerite_, and will return it
+you when you please. If you will have my opinion of her, I think she had
+a good deal of wit, and a great deal of patience for a woman of so high
+a spirit. She speaks with too much indifference of her husband's several
+amours, and commends Bussy as if she were a little concerned in him. I
+think her a better sister than a wife, and believe she might have made a
+better wife to a better husband. But the story of Mademoiselle de
+Tournon is so sad, that when I had read it I was able to go no further,
+and was fain to take up something else to divert myself withal. Have you
+read _Cleopatre_? I have six tomes on't here that I can lend you if you
+have not; there are some stories in't you will like, I believe. But what
+an ass am I to think you can be idle enough at London to read romance!
+No, I'll keep them till you come hither; here they may be welcome to you
+for want of better company. Yet, that you may not imagine we are quite
+out of the world here, and so be frighted from coming, I can assure you
+we are seldom without news, such as it is; and at this present we do
+abound with stories of my Lady Sunderland and Mr. Smith; with what
+reverence he approaches her, and how like a gracious princess she
+receives him, that they say 'tis worth one's going twenty miles to see
+it. All our ladies are mightily pleased with the example, but I do not
+find that the men intend to follow it, and I'll undertake Sir Solomon
+Justinian wishes her in the Indias, for fear she should pervert his new
+wife.
+
+Your fellow-servant kisses your hands, and says, "If you mean to make
+love to her old woman this is the best time you can take, for she is
+dying; this cold weather kills her, I think." It has undone me, I am
+sure, in killing an old knight that I have been waiting for this seven
+year, and now he dies and will leave me nothing, I believe, but leaves a
+rich widow for somebody. I think you had best come a wooing to her; I
+have a good interest in her, and it shall be all employed in your
+service if you think fit to make any addresses there. But to be sober
+now again, for God's sake send me word how your journey goes forward,
+when you think you shall begin it, and how long it may last, when I may
+expect your coming this way; and of all things, remember to provide a
+safe address for your letters when you are abroad. This is a strange,
+confused one, I believe; for I have been called away twenty times, since
+I sat down to write it, to my father, who is not well; but you will
+pardon it--we are past ceremony, and excuse me if I say no more now but
+that I am _toujours le mesme_, that is, ever
+
+Your affectionate
+friend and servant.
+
+
+_Letter 10._--Dorothy is suffering from _the spleen_, a disease as
+common to-day as then, though we have lost the good name for it. This
+and the ague plague her continually. My Lord Lisle's proposed embassy to
+Sweden is, we see, still delayed; ultimately Bulstrode Whitelocke is
+chosen ambassador.
+
+Dorothy's cousin Molle, here mentioned, seems to have been an old
+bachelor, who spent his time at one country house or another, visiting
+his country friends; and playing the bore not a little, I should fear,
+with his gossip and imaginary ailments.
+
+Temple's father was at this time trying to arrange a match for him with
+a certain Mrs. Ch. as Dorothy calls her. Courtenay thinks she may be one
+Mistress Chambers, an heiress, who ultimately married Temple's brother
+John, and this conjecture is here followed.
+
+
+SIR,--Your last letter came like a pardon to one upon the block. I had
+given over the hopes on't, having received my letters by the other
+carrier, who was always [wont] to be last. The loss put me hugely out of
+order, and you would have both pitied and laughed at me if you could
+have seen how woodenly I entertained the widow, who came hither the day
+before, and surprised me very much. Not being able to say anything, I
+got her to cards, and there with a great deal of patience lost my money
+to her;--or rather I gave it as my ransom. In the midst of our play, in
+comes my blessed boy with your letter, and, in earnest, I was not able
+to disguise the joy it gave me, though one was by that is not much your
+friend, and took notice of a blush that for my life I could not keep
+back. I put up the letter in my pocket, and made what haste I could to
+lose the money I had left, that I might take occasion to go fetch some
+more; but I did not make such haste back again, I can assure you. I took
+time enough to have coined myself some money if I had had the art on't,
+and left my brother enough to make all his addresses to her if he were
+so disposed. I know not whether he was pleased or not, but I am sure I
+was.
+
+You make so reasonable demands that 'tis not fit you should be denied.
+You ask my thoughts but at one hour; you will think me bountiful, I
+hope, when I shall tell you that I know no hour when you have them not.
+No, in earnest, my very dreams are yours, and I have got such a habit of
+thinking of you that any other thought intrudes and proves uneasy to me.
+I drink your health every morning in a drench that would poison a horse
+I believe, and 'tis the only way I have to persuade myself to take it.
+'Tis the infusion of steel, and makes me so horridly sick, that every
+day at ten o'clock I am making my will and taking leave of all my
+friends. You will believe you are not forgot then. They tell me I must
+take this ugly drink a fortnight, and then begin another as bad; but
+unless you say so too, I do not think I shall. 'Tis worse than dying by
+the half.
+
+I am glad your father is so kind to you. I shall not dispute it with
+him, because it is much more in his power than in mine, but I shall
+never yield that 'tis more in his desire, since he was much pleased with
+that which was a truth when you told it him, but would have been none if
+he had asked the question sooner. He thought there was no danger of you
+since you were more ignorant and less concerned in my being in town than
+he. If I were Mrs. Chambers, he would be more my friend; but, however, I
+am much his servant as he is your father. I have sent you your book. And
+since you are at leisure to consider the moon, you may be enough to read
+_Cleopatre_, therefore I have sent you three tomes; when you have done
+with these you shall have the rest, and I believe they will please.
+There is a story of Artemise that I will recommend to you; her
+disposition I like extremely, it has a great deal of practical wit; and
+if you meet with one Brittomart, pray send me word how you like him. I
+am not displeased that my Lord [Lisle] makes no more haste, for though I
+am very willing you should go the journey for many reasons, yet two or
+three months hence, sure, will be soon enough to visit so cold a
+country, and I would not have you endure two winters in one year.
+Besides, I look for my eldest brother and cousin Molle here shortly, and
+I should be glad to have nobody to entertain but you, whilst you are
+here. Lord! that you had the invisible ring, or Fortunatus his wishing
+hat; now, at this instant, you should be here.
+
+My brother has gone to wait upon the widow homewards,--she that was born
+to persecute you and I, I think. She has so tired me with being here but
+two days, that I do not think I shall accept of the offer she made me of
+living with her in case my father dies before I have disposed of myself.
+Yet we are very great friends, and for my comfort she says she will come
+again about the latter end of June and stay longer with me. My aunt is
+still in town, kept by her business, which I am afraid will not go well,
+they do so delay it; and my precious uncle does so visit her, and is so
+kind, that without doubt some mischief will follow. Do you know his son,
+my cousin Harry? 'Tis a handsome youth, and well-natured, but such a
+goose; and she has bred him so strangely, that he needs all his ten
+thousand a year. I would fain have him marry my Lady Diana, she was his
+mistress when he was a boy. He had more wit then than he has now, I
+think, and I have less wit than he, sure, for spending my paper upon him
+when I have so little. Here is hardly room for
+
+Your affectionate
+friend and servant.
+
+
+_Letter 11._--It is a curious thing to find the Lord General's son among
+our loyal Dorothy's servants; and to find, moreover, that he will be as
+acceptable to Dorothy as any other, if she may not marry Temple. Henry
+Cromwell was Oliver Cromwell's second son. How Dorothy became acquainted
+with him it is impossible to say. Perhaps they met in France. He seems
+to have been entirely unlike his father. Good Mrs. Hutchinson calls him
+"a debauched ungodly Cavalier," with other similar expressions of
+Presbyterian abhorrence; from which we need not draw any unkinder
+conclusion than that he was no solemn puritanical soldier, but a man of
+the world, brighter and more courteous than the frequenters of his
+father's Council, and therefore more acceptable to Dorothy. He was born
+at Huntingdon in 1627, the year of Dorothy's birth. He was captain under
+Harrison in 1647; colonel in Ireland with his father in 1649; and
+married at Kensington Church, on May 10th, 1653, to Elizabeth, daughter
+of Sir Francis Russell of Chippenham, Cambridgeshire. He was made
+Lord-Deputy in Ireland in 1657, but he wearied of the work of
+transplanting the Irish and planting the new settlers, which, he writes,
+only brought him disquiet of body and mind. This led to his retirement
+from public life in 1658. Two years afterwards, at the Restoration, he
+came to live at Spinney Abbey, near Isham, Cambridgeshire, and died on
+the 23rd of March 1673. These are shortly the facts which remain to us
+of the life of Henry Cromwell, Dorothy's favoured servant.
+
+
+SIR,--I am so far from thinking you ill-natured for wishing I might not
+outlive you, that I should not have thought you at all kind if you had
+done otherwise; no, in earnest, I was never yet so in love with my life
+but that I could have parted with it upon a much less occasion than your
+death, and 'twill be no compliment to you to say it would be very uneasy
+to me then, since 'tis not very pleasant to me now. Yet you will say I
+take great pains to preserve it, as ill as I like it; but no, I'll swear
+'tis not that I intend in what I do; all that I aim at is but to keep
+myself from proving a beast. They do so fright me with strange stories
+of what the spleen will bring me to in time, that I am kept in awe with
+them like a child; they tell me 'twill not leave me common sense, that I
+shall hardly be fit company for my own dogs, and that it will end either
+in a stupidness that will make me incapable of anything, or fill my head
+with such whims as will make me ridiculous. To prevent this, who would
+not take steel or anything,--though I am partly of your opinion that
+'tis an ill kind of physic. Yet I am confident that I take it the safest
+way, for I do not take the powder, as many do, but only lay a piece of
+steel in white wine over night and drink the infusion next morning,
+which one would think were nothing, and yet 'tis not to be imagined how
+sick it makes me for an hour or two, and, which is the misery, all that
+time one must be using some kind of exercise. Your fellow-servant has a
+blessed time on't that ever you saw. I make her play at shuttlecock with
+me, and she is the veriest bungler at it ever you saw. Then am I ready
+to beat her with the battledore, and grow so peevish as I grow sick,
+that I'll undertake she wishes there were no steel in England. But then
+to recompense the morning, I am in good humour all the day after for joy
+that I am well again. I am told 'twill do me good, and am content to
+believe it; if it does not, I am but where I was.
+
+I do not use to forget my old acquaintances. Almanzor is as fresh in my
+memory as if I had visited his tomb but yesterday, though it be at least
+seven year agone since. You will believe I had not been used to great
+afflictions when I made his story such a one to me, as I cried an hour
+together for him, and was so angry with Alcidiana that for my life I
+could never love her after it. You do not tell me whether you received
+the books I sent you, but I will hope you did, because you say nothing
+to the contrary. They are my dear Lady Diana's, and therefore I am much
+concerned that they should be safe. And now I speak of her, she is
+acquainted with your aunt, my Lady B., and says all that you say of her.
+If her niece has so much wit, will you not be persuaded to like her; or
+say she has not quite so much, may not her fortune make it up? In
+earnest, I know not what to say, but if your father does not use all his
+kindness and all his power to make you consider your own advantage, he
+is not like other fathers. Can you imagine that he that demands L5000
+besides the reversion of an estate will like bare L4000? Such miracles
+are seldom seen, and you must prepare to suffer a strange persecution
+unless you grow conformable; therefore consider what you do, 'tis the
+part of a friend to advise you. I could say a great deal to this
+purpose, and tell you that 'tis not discreet to refuse a good offer, nor
+safe to trust wholly to your own judgment in your disposal. I was never
+better provided in my life for a grave admonishing discourse. Would you
+had heard how I have been catechized for you, and seen how soberly I sit
+and answer to interrogatories. Would you think that upon examination it
+is found that you are not an indifferent person to me? But the mischief
+is, that what my intentions or resolutions are, is not to be discovered,
+though much pains has been taken to collect all scattering
+circumstances; and all the probable conjectures that can be raised from
+thence has been urged, to see if anything would be confessed. And all
+this done with so much ceremony and compliment, so many pardons asked
+for undertaking to counsel or inquire, and so great kindness and passion
+for all my interests professed, that I cannot but take it well, though I
+am very weary on't. You are spoken of with the reverence due to a person
+that I seem to like, and for as much as they know of you, you do deserve
+a very good esteem; but your fortune and mine can never agree, and, in
+plain terms, we forfeit our discretions and run wilfully upon our own
+ruins if there be such a thought. To all this I make no reply, but that
+if they will needs have it that I am not without kindness for you, they
+must conclude withal that 'tis no part of my intention to ruin you, and
+so the conference breaks up for that time. All this is [from] my friend,
+that is not yours; and the gentleman that came upstairs in a basket, I
+could tell him that he spends his breath to very little purpose, and has
+but his labour for his pains. Without his precepts my own judgment would
+preserve me from doing anything that might be prejudicial to you or
+unjustifiable to the world; but if these be secured, nothing can alter
+the resolution I have taken of settling my whole stock of happiness upon
+the affection of a person that is dear to me, whose kindness I shall
+infinitely prefer before any other consideration whatsoever, and I shall
+not blush to tell you that you have made the whole world beside so
+indifferent to me that, if I cannot be yours, they may dispose of me how
+they please. Henry Cromwell will be as acceptable to me as any one else.
+If I may undertake to counsel, I think you shall do well to comply with
+your father as far as possible, and not to discover any aversion to what
+he desires further than you can give reason for. What his disposition
+may be I know not; but 'tis that of many parents to judge their
+children's dislikes to be an humour of approving nothing that is chosen
+for them, which many times makes them take up another of denying their
+children all they choose for themselves. I find I am in the humour of
+talking wisely if my paper would give me leave. 'Tis great pity here is
+room for no more but--
+
+Your faithful friend and servant.
+
+
+_Letter 12._
+
+
+SIR,--There shall be two posts this week, for my brother sends his groom
+up, and I am resolved to make some advantage of it. Pray, what the paper
+denied me in your last, let me receive by him. Your fellow-servant is a
+sweet jewel to tell tales of me. The truth is, I cannot deny but that I
+have been very careless of myself, but, alas! who would have been other?
+I never thought my life worth my care whilst nobody was concerned in't
+but myself; now I shall look upon't as something that you would not
+lose, and therefore shall endeavour to keep it for you. But then you
+must return my kindness with the same care of a life that's much dearer
+to me. I shall not be so unreasonable as to desire that, for my
+satisfaction, you should deny yourself a recreation that is pleasing to
+you, and very innocent, sure, when 'tis not used in excess, but I cannot
+consent you should disorder yourself with it, and Jane was certainly in
+the right when she told you I would have chid if I had seen you so
+endanger a health that I am so much concerned in. But for what she tell
+you of my melancholy you must not believe; she thinks nobody in good
+humour unless they laugh perpetually, as Nan and she does, which I was
+never given to much, and now I have been so long accustomed to my own
+natural dull humour that nothing can alter it. 'Tis not that I am sad
+(for as long as you and the rest of my friends are well), I thank God I
+have no occasion to be so, but I never appear to be very merry, and if I
+had all that I could wish for in the world, I do not think it would make
+any visible change in my humour. And yet with all my gravity I could not
+but laugh at your encounter in the Park, though I was not pleased that
+you should leave a fair lady and go lie upon the cold ground. That is
+full as bad as overheating yourself at tennis, and therefore remember
+'tis one of the things you are forbidden. You have reason to think your
+father kind, and I have reason to think him very civil; all his scruples
+are very just ones, but such as time and a little good fortune (if we
+were either of us lucky to it) might satisfy. He may be confident I can
+never think of disposing myself without my father's consent; and though
+he has left it more in my power than almost anybody leaves a daughter,
+yet certainly I were the worst natured person in the world if his
+kindness were not a greater tie upon me than any advantage he could have
+reserved. Besides that, 'tis my duty, from which nothing can ever tempt
+me, nor could you like it in me if I should do otherwise, 'twould make
+me unworthy of your esteem; but if ever that may be obtained, or I left
+free, and you in the same condition, all the advantages of fortune or
+person imaginable met together in one man should not be preferred before
+you. I think I cannot leave you better than with this assurance. 'Tis
+very late, and having been abroad all this day, I knew not till e'en now
+of this messenger. Good-night to you. There need be no excuse for the
+conclusion of your letter. Nothing can please me better. Once more
+good-night. I am half in a dream already.
+
+Your
+
+
+_Letter 13._--There is some allusion here to an inconstant lover of my
+Lady Diana Rich, who seems to have deserted his mistress on account of
+the sore eyes with which, Dorothy told us in a former letter, her
+friend was afflicted.
+
+I cannot find any account of the great shop above the Exchange, "The
+Flower Pott." There were two or three "Flower Pots" in London at this
+time, one in Leadenhall Street and another in St. James' Market. An
+interesting account of the old sign is given in a work on London
+tradesmen's tokens, in which it is said to be "derived from the earlier
+representations of the salutations of the angel Gabriel to the Virgin
+Mary, in which either lilies were placed in his hand, or they were set
+as an accessory in a vase. As Popery declined, the angel disappeared,
+and the lily-pot became a vase of flowers; subsequently the Virgin was
+omitted, and there remained only the vase of flowers. Since, to make
+things more unmistakeable, two debonair gentlemen, with hat in hand,
+have superseded the floral elegancies of the olden time, and the poetry
+of the art seems lost."
+
+
+SIR,--I am glad you 'scaped a beating, but, in earnest, would it had
+lighted on my brother's groom. I think I should have beaten him myself
+if I had been able. I have expected your letter all this day with the
+greatest impatience that was possible, and at last resolved to go out
+and meet the fellow; and when I came down to the stables, I found him
+come, had set up his horse, and was sweeping the stable in great order.
+I could not imagine him so very a beast as to think his horses were to
+be serv'd before me, and therefore was presently struck with an
+apprehension he had no letter for me: it went cold to my heart as ice,
+and hardly left me courage enough to ask him the question; but when he
+had drawled it out that he thought there was a letter for me in his bag,
+I quickly made him leave his broom. 'Twas well 'tis a dull fellow, he
+could not [but] have discern'd else that I was strangely overjoyed with
+it, and earnest to have it; for though the poor fellow made what haste
+he could to untie his bag, I did nothing but chide him for being so
+slow. Last I had it, and, in earnest, I know not whether an entire
+diamond of the bigness on't would have pleased me half so well; if it
+would, it must be only out of this consideration, that such a jewel
+would make me rich enough to dispute you with Mrs. Chambers, and perhaps
+make your father like me as well. I like him, I'll swear, and extremely
+too, for being so calm in a business where his desires were so much
+crossed. Either he has a great power over himself, or you have a great
+interest in him, or both. If you are pleased it should end thus, I
+cannot dislike it; but if it would have been happy for you, I should
+think myself strangely unfortunate in being the cause that it went not
+further. I cannot say that I prefer your interest before my own, because
+all yours are so much mine that 'tis impossible for me to be happy if
+you are not so; but if they could be divided I am certain I should. And
+though you reproached me with unkindness for advising you not to refuse
+a good offer, yet I shall not be discouraged from doing it again when
+there is occasion, for I am resolved to be your friend whether you will
+or no. And, for example, though I know you do not need my counsel, yet I
+cannot but tell you that I think 'twere very well that you took some
+care to make my Lady B. your friend, and oblige her by your civilities
+to believe that you were sensible of the favour was offered you, though
+you had not the grace to make good use on't. In very good earnest now,
+she is a woman (by all that I have heard of her) that one would not
+lose; besides that, 'twill become you to make some satisfaction for
+downright refusing a young lady--'twas unmercifully done.
+
+Would to God you would leave that trick of making excuses! Can you think
+it necessary to me, or believe that your letters can be so long as to
+make them unpleasing to me? Are mine so to you? If they are not, yours
+never will be so to me. You see I say anything to you, out of a belief
+that, though my letters were more impertinent than they are, you would
+not be without them nor wish them shorter. Why should you be less kind?
+If your fellow-servant has been with you, she has told you I part with
+her but for her advantage. That I shall always be willing to do; but
+whensoever she shall think fit to serve again, and is not provided of a
+better mistress, she knows where to find me.
+
+I have sent you the rest of _Cleopatre_, pray keep them all in your
+hands, and the next week I will send you a letter and directions where
+you shall deliver that and the books for my lady. Is it possible that
+she can be indifferent to anybody? Take heed of telling me such stories;
+if all those excellences she is rich in cannot keep warm a passion
+without the sunshine of her eyes, what are poor people to expect; and
+were it not a strange vanity in me to believe yours can be long-lived?
+It would be very pardonable in you to change, but, sure, in him 'tis a
+mark of so great inconstancy as shows him of an humour that nothing can
+fix. When you go into the Exchange, pray call at the great shop above,
+"The Flower Pott." I spoke to Heams, the man of the shop, when I was in
+town, for a quart of orange-flower water; he had none that was good
+then, but promised to get me some. Pray put him in mind of it, and let
+him show it you before he sends it me, for I will not altogether trust
+to his honesty; you see I make no scruple of giving you little idle
+commissions, 'tis a freedom you allow me, and that I should be glad you
+would take. The Frenchman that set my seals lives between Salisbury
+House and the Exchange, at a house that was not finished when I was
+there, and the master of the shop, his name is Walker, he made me pay
+50s. for three, but 'twas too dear. You will meet with a story in these
+parts of _Cleopatre_ that pleased me more than any that ever I read in
+my life; 'tis of one Delie, pray give me your opinion of her and her
+prince. This letter is writ in great haste, as you may see; 'tis my
+brother's sick day, and I'm not willing to leave him long alone. I
+forgot to tell you in my last that he was come hither to try if he can
+lose an ague here that he got in Gloucestershire. He asked me for you
+very kindly, and if he knew I writ to you I should have something to say
+from him besides what I should say for myself if I had room.
+
+Yrs.
+
+
+_Letter 14._--This letter contains the most interesting political
+reference of the whole series. Either Temple has written Dorothy an
+account of Cromwell's dissolving the Long Parliament, or perhaps some
+news-letter has found its way to Chicksands with the astounding news.
+All England is filled with intense excitement over Cromwell's _coup
+d'etat_; and it cannot be uninteresting to quote a short contemporary
+account of the business. Algernon Sydney's father, the Earl of
+Leicester, whose journal has already been quoted, under date Wednesday,
+April 20th, 1653, writes as follows:--"My Lord General came into the
+House clad in plain black clothes with grey worsted stockings, and sat
+down, as he used to do, in an ordinary place." Then he began to speak,
+and presently "he put on his hat, went out of his place, and walked up
+and down the stage or floor in the midst of the House, with his hat on
+his head, and chid them soundly." After this had gone on for some time,
+Colonel Harrison was called in to remove the Speaker, which he did; "and
+it happened that Algernon Sydney sat next to the Speaker on the right
+hand. The General said to Harrison, 'Put him out!'
+
+"Harrison spake to Sydney to go out, but he said he would not go out and
+waited still.
+
+"The General said again, 'Put him out!' Then Harrison and Wortley
+[Worsley] put their hands upon Sydney's shoulders as if they would force
+him to go out. Then he rose and went towards the door."
+
+Such is the story which reaches Dorothy, and startles all England at
+this date.
+
+
+SIR,--That you may be sure it was a dream that I writ that part of my
+letter in, I do not now remember what it was I writ, but seems it was
+very kind, and possibly you owe the discovery on't to my being asleep.
+But I do not repent it, for I should not love you if I did not think you
+discreet enough to be trusted with the knowledge of all my kindness.
+Therefore 'tis not that I desire to hide it from you, but that I do not
+love to tell it; and perhaps if you could read my heart, I should make
+less scruple of your seeing on't there than in my letters.
+
+I can easily guess who the pretty young lady is, for there are but two
+in England of that fortune, and they are sisters, but I am to seek who
+the gallant should be. If it be no secret, you may tell me. However, I
+shall wish him all good success if he be your friend, as I suppose he is
+by his confidence in you. If it be neither of the Spencers, I wish it
+were; I have not seen two young men that looked as if they deserved
+better fortunes so much as those brothers.
+
+But, bless me, what will become of us all now? Is not this a strange
+turn? What does my Lord Lisle? Sure this will at least defer your
+journey? Tell me what I must think on't; whether it be better or worse,
+or whether you are at all concern'd in't? For if you are not I am not,
+only if I had been so wise as to have taken hold of the offer was made
+me by Henry Cromwell, I might have been in a fair way of preferment,
+for, sure, they will be greater now than ever. Is it true that Algernon
+Sydney was so unwilling to leave the House, that the General was fain to
+take the pains to turn him out himself? Well, 'tis a pleasant world
+this. If Mr. Pim were alive again, I wonder what he would think of these
+proceedings, and whether this would appear so great a breach of the
+Privilege of Parliament as the demanding the 5 members? But I shall talk
+treason by and by if I do not look to myself. 'Tis safer talking of the
+orange-flower water you sent me. The carrier has given me a great charge
+to tell you that it came safe, and that I must do him right. As you say,
+'tis not the best I have seen, nor the worst.
+
+I shall expect your Diary next week, though this will be but a short
+letter: you may allow me to make excuses too sometimes; but, seriously,
+my father is now so continuously ill, that I have hardly time for
+anything. 'Tis but an ague that he has, but yet I am much afraid that is
+more than his age and weakness will be able to bear; he keeps his bed,
+and never rises but to have it made, and most times faints with that.
+You ought in charity to write as much as you can, for, in earnest, my
+life here since my father's sickness is so sad that, to another humour
+than mine, it would be unsupportable; but I have been so used to
+misfortunes, that I cannot be much surprised with them, though perhaps I
+am as sensible of them as another. I'll leave you, for I find these
+thoughts begin to put me in ill humour; farewell, may you be ever happy.
+If I am so at all, it is in being
+
+Your
+
+
+_Letter 15._--What Temple had written about Mr. Arbry's prophecy and
+"the falling down of the form," we cannot know. Mr. Arbry was probably
+William Erbury, vicar of St. Mary's, Cardiff, a noted schismatic. He is
+said to have been a "holy, harmless man," but incurred both the hate and
+ridicule of his opponents. Many of his tracts are still extant, and they
+contain extravagant prophecies couched in the peculiar phraseology of
+the day.
+
+The celebrated Sir Samuel Luke was a near neighbour of the Osbornes, and
+Mr. Luke was one of his numerous family. Sir Samuel was Lord of the
+Manor of Hawnes, and in the Hawnes parish register there are notices of
+the christenings of his sons and daughters. Sir Samuel was not only a
+colonel in the Parliament Army, but Scout-Master-General in the counties
+of Bedford and Surrey. Samuel Butler, the author of _Hudibras_, lived
+with Sir Samuel Luke as his secretary, at some date prior to the
+Restoration; and Dr. Grey, his learned editor, believes that he wrote
+_Hudibras_ about that time, "because he had then the opportunity to
+converse with those living characters of rebellion, nonsense, and
+hypocrisy which he so lively and pathetically exposes throughout the
+whole work." Sir Samuel is said himself to be the original "Hudibras;"
+and if Dr. Grey's conjecture on this matter is a right one, we have
+already in our minds a very complete portrait of Dorothy's neighbour.
+
+The old ballad that Dorothy encloses to her lover has not been preserved
+with her letter. If it is older than the ballad of "The Lord of Lorne,"
+it must have been composed before Henry VIII.'s reign; for Edward
+Guilpin, in his _Skialethia_ [1598], speaks of
+
+          Th' olde ballad of the Lord of Lorne,
+          Whose last line in King Harrie's day was borne.
+
+"The Lord of Learne" (this was the old spelling) may be found in Bishop
+Percy's well-known collection of Ballads and Romances.
+
+
+SIR,--You must pardon me, I could not burn your other letter for my
+life; I was so pleased to see I had so much to read, and so sorry I had
+done so soon, that I resolved to begin them again, and had like to have
+lost my dinner by it. I know not what humour you were in when you writ
+it; but Mr. Arbry's prophecy and the falling down of the form did a
+little discompose my gravity. But I quickly recovered myself with
+thinking that you deserved to be chid for going where you knew you must
+of necessity lose your time. In earnest, I had a little scruple when I
+went with you thither, and but that I was assured it was too late to go
+any whither else, and believed it better to hear an ill sermon than
+none, I think I should have missed his _Belles remarques_. You had
+repented you, I hope, of that and all other your faults before you
+thought of dying.
+
+What a satisfaction you had found out to make me for the injuries you
+say you have done me! And yet I cannot tell neither (though 'tis not the
+remedy I should choose) whether that were not a certain one for all my
+misfortunes; for, sure, I should have nothing then to persuade me to
+stay longer where they grow, and I should quickly take a resolution of
+leaving them and the world at once. I agree with you, too, that I do not
+see any great likelihood of the change of our fortunes, and that we have
+much more to wish than to hope for; but 'tis so common a calamity that I
+dare not murmur at it; better people have endured it, and I can give no
+reason why (almost) all are denied the satisfaction of disposing
+themselves to their own desires, but that it is a happiness too great
+for this world, and might endanger one's forgetting the next; whereas if
+we are crossed in that which only can make the world pleasing to us, we
+are quickly tired with the length of our journey and the disquiet of our
+inns, and long to be at home. One would think it were I who had heard
+the three sermons and were trying to make a fourth; these are truths
+that might become a pulpit better than Mr. Arbry's predictions. But lest
+you should think I have as many worms in my head as he, I'll give over
+in time, and tell you how far Mr. Luke and I are acquainted. He lives
+within three or four miles of me, and one day that I had been to visit a
+lady that is nearer him than me, as I came back I met a coach with some
+company in't that I knew, and thought myself obliged to salute. We all
+lighted and met, and I found more than I looked for by two damsels and
+their squires. I was afterwards told they were of the Lukes, and
+possibly this man might be there, or else I never saw him; for since
+these times we have had no commerce with that family, but have kept at
+great distance, as having on several occasions been disobliged by them.
+But of late, I know not how, Sir Sam has grown so kind as to send to me
+for some things he desired out of this garden, and withal made the offer
+of what was in his, which I had reason to take for a high favour, for he
+is a nice florist; and since this we are insensibly come to as good
+degrees of civility for one another as can be expected from people that
+never meet.
+
+Who those demoiselles should be that were at Heamses I cannot imagine,
+and I know so few that are concerned in me or my name that I admire you
+should meet with so many that seem to be acquainted with it. Sure, if
+you had liked them you would not have been so sullen, and a less
+occasion would have served to make you entertain their discourse if they
+had been handsome. And yet I know no reason I have to believe that
+beauty is any argument to make you like people; unless I had more on't
+myself. But be it what it will that displeased you, I am glad they did
+not fright you away before you had the orange-flower water, for it is
+very good, and I am so sweet with it a days that I despise roses. When I
+have given you humble thanks for it, I mean to look over your other
+letter and take the heads, and to treat of them in order as my time and
+your patience shall give me leave.
+
+And first for my Sheriff, let me desire you to believe he has more
+courage than to die upon a denial. No (thanks be to God!), none of my
+servants are given to that; I hear of many every day that do marry, but
+of none that do worse. My brother sent me word this week that my
+fighting servant is married too, and with the news this ballad, which
+was to be sung in the grave that you dreamt of, I think; but because you
+tell me I shall not want company then, you may dispose of this piece of
+poetry as you please when you have sufficiently admired with me where he
+found it out, for 'tis much older than that of my "Lord of Lorne." You
+are altogether in the right that my brother will never be at quiet till
+he sees me disposed of, but he does not mean to lose me by it; he knows
+that if I were married at this present, I should not be persuaded to
+leave my father as long as he lives; and when this house breaks up, he
+is resolved to follow me if he can, which he thinks he might better do
+to a house where I had some power than where I am but upon courtesy
+myself. Besides that, he thinks it would be to my advantage to be well
+bestowed, and by that he understands richly. He is much of your sister's
+humour, and many times wishes me a husband that loved me as well as he
+does (though he seems to doubt the possibility on't), but never desires
+that I should love that husband with any passion, and plainly tells me
+so. He says it would not be so well for him, nor perhaps for me, that I
+should; for he is of opinion that all passions have more of trouble than
+satisfaction in them, and therefore they are happiest that have least of
+them. You think him kind from a letter that you met with of his; sure,
+there was very little of anything in that, or else I should not have
+employed it to wrap a book up. But, seriously, I many times receive
+letters from him, that were they seen without an address to me or his
+name, nobody would believe they were from a brother; and I cannot but
+tell him sometimes that, sure, he mistakes and sends me letters that
+were meant to his mistress, till he swears to me that he has none.
+
+Next week my persecution begins again; he comes down, and my cousin
+Molle is already cured of his imaginary dropsy, and means to meet here.
+I shall be baited most sweetly, but sure they will not easily make me
+consent to make my life unhappy to satisfy their importunity. I was born
+to be very happy or very miserable, I know not which, but I am very
+certain that you will never read half this letter 'tis so scribbled; but
+'tis no matter, 'tis not much worth it.
+
+Your most faithful friend and servant.
+
+
+_Letter 16._--The trial of Lord Chandos for killing Mr. Compton in a
+duel was, just at this moment, exciting the fickle attention of the
+town, which had probably said its say on the subject of Cromwell's _coup
+d'etat_, and was only too ready for another subject of conversation. The
+trial is not reported among the State Trials, but our observant friend
+the Earl of Leicester has again taken note of the matter in his journal,
+and can give us at least his own ideas of the trial and its political
+and social importance. Under date May 1653, he writes:--"Towards the end
+of Easter Term, the Lord Chandos, for killing in duel Mr. Compton the
+year before," that is to say, in March; the new year begins on March
+25th, "and the Lord Arundel of Wardour, one of his seconds, were brought
+to their trial for their lives at the Upper Bench in Westminster
+Hall, when it was found manslaughter only, as by a jury at
+Kingston-upon-Thames it had been found formerly. The Lords might have
+had the privilege of peerage (Justice Rolles being Lord Chief Justice),
+but they declined it by the advice of Mr. Maynard and the rest of their
+counsel, least by that means the matter might have been brought about
+again, therefore they went upon the former verdict of manslaughter, and
+so were acquitted; yet to be burned in the hand, which was done to them
+both a day or two after, but very favourably." These were the first
+peers that had been burned in the hand, and the democratic Earl of
+Leicester expresses at the event some satisfaction, and derives from the
+whole circumstances of the trial comfortable assurance of the power and
+stability of the Government. The Earl, however, misleads us in one
+particular. Lord Arundel was Henry Compton's second. He had married
+Cecily Compton, and naturally enough acted as his brother-in-law's
+second. It is also interesting to remember that Lord Chandos was known
+to the world as something other than a duelist. He was an eminent
+loyalist, among the first of those nobles who left Westminster, and at
+Newbury fight had his three horses killed under him. Lady Carey was
+Mary, natural daughter of Lord Scrope, who married Henry Carey, commonly
+called Lord Leppington. Lady Leppington (or Carey) lost her husband in
+1649, and her son died May 24, 1653. This helps us to date the letter.
+Of her "kindness to Compton," of which Dorothy writes in her next
+letter, nothing is known, but she married Charles Paulet, Lord St. John,
+afterwards the Duke of Bolton, early in 1654.
+
+The jealous Sir T---- here mentioned may be Sir Thomas Osborne, who, we
+may suppose, was not well pleased at the refusal of his offer.
+
+Sir Peter Lely did paint a portrait of Lady Diana Rich some months
+after this date. It is somewhat curious that he should remain in England
+during the Civil Wars; but his business was to paint all men's
+portraits. He had painted Charles I.; now he was painting Cromwell. It
+was to him Cromwell is said to have shouted: "Paint the warts! paint the
+warts!" when the courtly Sir Peter would have made a presentable picture
+even of the Lord General himself. Cromwell was a sound critic in this,
+and had detected the main fault of Sir Peter's portraits, whose value to
+us is greatly lessened by the artist's constant habit of flattery.
+
+
+SIR,--If it were the carrier's fault that you stayed so long for your
+letters, you are revenged, for I have chid him most unreasonably. But I
+must confess 'twas not for that, for I did not know it then, but going
+to meet him (as I usually do), when he gave me your letter I found the
+upper seal broken open, and underneath where it uses to be only closed
+with a little wax, there was a seal, which though it were an anchor and
+a heart, methought it did not look like yours, but less, and much worse
+cut. This suspicion was so strong upon me, that I chid till the poor
+fellow was ready to cry, and swore to me that it had never been touched
+since he had it, and that he was careful of it, as he never put it with
+his other letters, but by itself, and that now it come amongst his
+money, which perhaps might break the seal; and lest I should think it
+was his curiosity, he told me very ingenuously he could not read, and so
+we parted for the present. But since, he has been with a neighbour of
+mine whom he sometimes delivers my letters to, and begged her that she
+would go to me and desire my worship to write to your worship to know
+how the letter was sealed, for it has so grieved him that he has neither
+eat nor slept (to do him any good) since he came home, and in grace of
+God this shall be a warning to him as long as he lives. He takes it so
+heavily that I think I must be friends with him again; but pray
+hereafter seal your letters, so that the difficulty of opening them may
+dishearten anybody from attempting it.
+
+It was but my guess that the ladies at Heams' were unhandsome; but since
+you tell me they were remarkably so, sure I know them by it; they are
+two sisters, and might have been mine if the Fates had so pleased. They
+have a brother that is not like them, and is a baronet besides. 'Tis
+strange that you tell me of my Lords Shandoys [Chandos] and Arundel; but
+what becomes of young Compton's estate? Sure my Lady Carey cannot
+neither in honour nor conscience keep it; besides that, she needs it
+less now than ever, her son (being, as I hear) dead.
+
+Sir T., I suppose, avoids you as a friend of mine. My brother tells me
+they meet sometimes, and have the most ado to pull off their hats to one
+another that can be, and never speak. If I were in town I'll undertake
+he would venture the being choked for want of air rather than stir out
+of doors for fear of meeting me. But did you not say in your last that
+you took something very ill from me? If 'twas my humble thanks, well,
+you shall have no more of them then, nor no more servants. I think that
+they are not necessary among friends.
+
+I take it very kindly that your father asked for me, and that you were
+not pleased with the question he made of the continuance of my
+friendship. I can pardon it him, because he does not know me, but I
+should never forgive you if you could doubt it. Were my face in no more
+danger of changing than my mind, I should be worth the seeing at
+threescore; and that which is but very ordinary now, would then be
+counted handsome for an old woman; but, alas! I am more likely to look
+old before my time with grief. Never anybody had such luck with
+servants; what with marrying and what with dying, they all leave me.
+Just now I have news brought me of the death of an old rich knight that
+has promised me this seven years to marry me whensoever his wife died,
+and now he's dead before her, and has left her such a widow, it makes me
+mad to think on't, L1200 a year jointure and L20,000 in money and
+personal estate, and all this I might have had if Mr. Death had been
+pleased to have taken her instead of him. Well, who can help these
+things? But since I cannot have him, would you had her! What say you?
+Shall I speak a good word for you? She will marry for certain, and
+perhaps, though my brother may expect I should serve him in it, yet if
+you give me commission I'll say I was engaged beforehand for a friend,
+and leave him to shift for himself. You would be my neighbour if you had
+her, and I should see you often. Think on't, and let me know what you
+resolve? My lady has writ me word that she intends very shortly to sit
+at Lely's for her picture for me; I give you notice on't, that you may
+have the pleasure of seeing it sometimes whilst 'tis there. I imagine
+'twill be so to you, for I am sure it would be a great one to me, and we
+do not use to differ in our inclinations, though I cannot agree with you
+that my brother's kindness to me has anything of trouble in't; no, sure,
+I may be just to you and him both, and to be a kind sister will take
+nothing from my being a perfect friend.
+
+
+_Letter 17._--Lady Newcastle was Margaret Duchess of Newcastle. "The
+thrice noble, chaste, and virtuous, but again somewhat fantastical and
+original-brained, generous Margaret Newcastle," as Elia describes her.
+She was the youngest daughter of Sir Charles Lucas, and was born at
+Colchester towards the end of the reign of James I. Her mother appears
+to have been remarkably careful of her education in all such lighter
+matters as dancing, music, and the learning of the French tongue; but
+she does not seem to have made any deep study of the classics. In 1643
+she joined the Court at Oxford, and was made one of the Maids of Honour
+to Henrietta Maria, whom she afterwards attended in exile. At Paris she
+met the Marquis of Newcastle, who married her in that city in 1645. From
+Paris they went to Rotterdam, she leaving the Queen to follow her
+husband's fortunes; and after stopping at Rotterdam and Brabant for
+short periods, they settled at Antwerp.
+
+At the Restoration she returned to England with her husband, and
+employed her time in writing letters, plays, poems, philosophical
+discourses, and orations. There is a long catalogue of her works in
+Ballard's _Memoirs_, but all published at a date subsequent to 1653.
+However, from Anthony Wood and other sources one gathers somewhat
+different details of her life and writings; and the book to which
+Dorothy refers here and in Letter 21, is probably the _Poems and
+Fancies_, an edition of which was published, I believe, in this year
+[1653]. Many of her verses are more strangely incomprehensible than
+anything even in the poetry of to-day. Take, for instance, a poem of
+four lines, from the _Poems and Fancies_, entitled--
+
+          THE JOINING OF SEVERAL FIGUR'D ATOMS MAKES
+          OTHER FIGURES.
+
+          Several figur'd Atoms well agreeing
+          When joined, do give another figure being.
+          For as those figures joined several ways
+          The fabrick of each several creature raise.
+
+This seems to be a rhyming statement of the Atomic theory, but whether
+it is a poem or a fancy we should find it hard to decide. It is not,
+however, an unfair example of Lady Newcastle's fantastic style. Lady
+Newcastle died in 1673, and was buried in Westminster Abbey,--"A wise,
+witty, and learned Lady, which her many books do well testify."
+
+
+SIR,--I received your letter to-day, when I thought it almost impossible
+that I should be sensible of anything but my father's sickness and my
+own affliction in it. Indeed, he was then so dangerously ill that we
+could not reasonably hope he should outlive this day; yet he is now, I
+thank God, much better, and I am come so much to myself with it, as to
+undertake a long letter to you whilst I watch by him. Towards the latter
+end it will be excellent stuff, I believe; but, alas! you may allow me
+to dream sometimes. I have had so little sleep since my father was sick
+that I am never thoroughly awake. Lord, how I have wished for you! Here
+do I sit all night by a poor moped fellow that serves my father, and
+have much ado to keep him awake and myself too. If you heard the wise
+discourse that is between us, you would swear we wanted sleep; but I
+shall leave him to-night to entertain himself, and try if I can write as
+wisely as I talk. I am glad all is well again. In earnest, it would have
+lain upon my conscience if I had been the occasion of making your poor
+boy lose a service, that if he has the wit to know how to value it, he
+would never have forgiven me while he had lived.
+
+But while I remember it, let me ask you if you did not send my letter
+and _Cleopatre_ where I directed you for my lady? I received one from
+her to-day full of the kindest reproaches, that she has not heard from
+me this three weeks. I have writ constantly to her, but I do not so much
+wonder that the rest are lost, as that she seems not to have received
+that which I sent to you nor the books. I do not understand it, but I
+know there is no fault of yours in't. But, mark you! if you think to
+'scape with sending me such bits of letters, you are mistaken. You say
+you are often interrupted, and I believe it; but you must use then to
+begin to write before you receive mine, and whensoever you have any
+spare time allow me some of it. Can you doubt that anything can make
+your letters cheap? In earnest, 'twas unkindly said, and if I could be
+angry with you it should be for that. No, certainly they are, and ever
+will be, dear to me as that which I receive a huge contentment by. How
+shall I long when you are gone your journey to hear from you! how shall
+I apprehend a thousand accidents that are not likely nor will ever
+happen, I hope! Oh, if you do not send me long letters, then you are the
+cruellest person that can be! If you love me you will; and if you do
+not, I shall never love myself. You need not fear such a command as you
+mention. Alas! I am too much concerned that you should love me ever to
+forbid it you; 'tis all that I propose of happiness to myself in the
+world. The burning of my paper has waked me; all this while I was in a
+dream. But 'tis no matter, I am content you should know they are of you,
+and that when my thoughts are left most at liberty they are the kindest.
+I swear my eyes are so heavy that I hardly see what I write, nor do I
+think you will be able to read it when I have done; the best on't is
+'twill be no great loss to you if you do not, for, sure, the greatest
+part on't is not sense, and yet on my conscience I shall go on with it.
+'Tis like people that talk in their sleep, nothing interrupts them but
+talking to them again, and that you are not like to do at this distance;
+besides that, at this instant you are, I believe, more asleep than I,
+and do not so much as dream that I am writing to you. My fellow-watchers
+have been asleep too, till just now they begin to stretch and yawn; they
+are going to try if eating and drinking can keep them awake, and I am
+kindly invited to be of their company; and my father's man has got one
+of the maids to talk nonsense to to-night, and they have got between
+them a bottle of ale. I shall lose my share if I do not take them at
+their first offer. Your patience till I have drunk, and then I'll for
+you again.
+
+And now on the strength of this ale, I believe I shall be able to fill
+up this paper that's left with something or other; and first let me ask
+you if you have seen a book of poems newly come out, made by my Lady
+Newcastle? For God's sake if you meet with it send it to me; they say
+'tis ten times more extravagant than her dress. Sure, the poor woman is
+a little distracted, she could never be so ridiculous else as to venture
+at writing books, and in verse too. If I should not sleep this fortnight
+I should not come to that. My eyes grow a little dim though, for all the
+ale, and I believe if I could see it this is most strangely scribbled.
+Sure, I shall not find fault with your writing in haste, for anything
+but the shortness of your letter; and 'twould be very unjust in me to
+tie you to a ceremony that I do not observe myself. No, for God's sake
+let there be no such thing between us; a real kindness is so far beyond
+all compliment, that it never appears more than when there is least of
+t'other mingled with it. If, then, you would have me believe yours to be
+perfect, confirm it to me by a kind freedom. Tell me if there be
+anything that I can serve you in, employ me as you would do that sister
+that you say you love so well. Chide me when I do anything that is not
+well, but then make haste to tell me that you have forgiven me, and that
+you are what I shall ever be, a faithful friend.
+
+
+_Letter 18._--I cannot pass by this letter without saying that the first
+part of it is, to my thinking, the most dainty and pleasing piece of
+writing that Dorothy has left us. The account of her life, one day and
+every day, is like a gust of fresh country air clearing away the mist of
+time and enabling one to see Dorothy at Chicksands quite clearly. It is
+fashionable to deny Macaulay everything but memory; but he had the good
+taste and discernment to admire this letter, and quote from it in his
+Essay on Sir William Temple,--a quotation for which I shall always
+remain very grateful to him.
+
+Sir Thomas Peyton, "Brother Peyton," was born in 1619, being, I believe,
+the second baronet of that name; his seat was at Knowlton, in the county
+of Kent. Early in the reign of Charles I. we find him as Member of
+Parliament for Sandwich, figuring in a Committee side by side with the
+two Sir Harry Vanes; the Committee having been sent into Kent to prevent
+the dispersal of rumours to the scandal of Parliament,--no light task,
+one would think. In 1643 he is in prison, charged among other things
+with being a malignant. An unjust charge, as he thinks; for he writes to
+his brother, "If to wish on earth peace, goodwill towards men, be a
+malignant, none is greater than your affectionate brother, Thomas
+Peyton." But in spite of these peaceful thoughts in prison, in May 1648
+he is heading a loyalist rising in Kent. The other counties not joining
+in at the right moment, in accordance with the general procedure at
+Royalist risings, it is defeated by Fairfax. Sir Thomas's house is
+ransacked, he himself is taken prisoner near Bury St. Edmunds, brought
+to the House of Commons, and committed to the Tower. A right worthy
+son-in-law of good Sir Peter. We are glad to find him at large again in
+1653, his head safe on his shoulders, and do not grudge him his grant of
+duties on sea-coal, dated 1660; nor are we sorry that he should once
+again grace the House of Commons with his presence as one of the members
+for loyal Kent in the good days when the King enjoyed his own again.
+
+
+SIR,--I have been reckoning up how many faults you lay to my charge in
+your last letter, and I find I am severe, unjust, unmerciful, and
+unkind. Oh me, how should one do to mend all these! 'Tis work for an
+age, and 'tis to be feared I shall be so old before I am good, that
+'twill not be considerable to anybody but myself whether I am so or not.
+I say nothing of the pretty humour you fancied me in, in your dream,
+because 'twas but a dream. Sure, if it had been anything else, I should
+have remembered that my Lord L. loves to have his chamber and his bed to
+himself. But seriously, now, I wonder at your patience. How could you
+hear me talk so senselessly, though 'twere but in your sleep, and not be
+ready to beat me? What nice mistaken points of honour I pretended to,
+and yet could allow him room in the same bed with me! Well, dreams are
+pleasant things to people whose humours are so; but to have the spleen,
+and to dream upon't, is a punishment I would not wish my greatest enemy.
+I seldom dream, or never remember them, unless they have been so sad as
+to put me into such disorder as I can hardly recover when I am awake,
+and some of those I am confident I shall never forget.
+
+You ask me how I pass my time here. I can give you a perfect account not
+only of what I do for the present, but of what I am likely to do this
+seven years if I stay here so long. I rise in the morning reasonably
+early, and before I am ready I go round the house till I am weary of
+that, and then into the garden till it grows too hot for me. About ten
+o'clock I think of making me ready, and when that's done I go into my
+father's chamber, from whence to dinner, where my cousin Molle and I sit
+in great state in a room, and at a table that would hold a great many
+more. After dinner we sit and talk till Mr. B. comes in question, and
+then I am gone. The heat of the day is spent in reading or working, and
+about six or seven o'clock I walk out into a common that lies hard by
+the house, where a great many young wenches keep sheep and cows, and sit
+in the shade singing of ballads. I go to them and compare their voices
+and beauties to some ancient shepherdesses that I have read of, and find
+a vast difference there; but, trust me, I think these are as innocent as
+those could be. I talk to them, and find they want nothing to make them
+the happiest people in the world but the knowledge that they are so.
+Most commonly, when we are in the midst of our discourse, one looks
+about her, and spies her cows going into the corn, and then away they
+all run as if they had wings at their heels. I, that am not so nimble,
+stay behind; and when I see them driving home their cattle, I think 'tis
+time for me to return too. When I have supped, I go into the garden, and
+so to the side of a small river that runs by it, when I sit down and
+wish you were with me (you had best say this is not kind neither). In
+earnest, 'tis a pleasant place, and would be much more so to me if I had
+your company. I sit there sometimes till I am lost with thinking; and
+were it not for some cruel thoughts of the crossness of our fortunes
+that will not let me sleep there, I should forget that there were such a
+thing to be done as going to bed.
+
+Since I writ this my company is increased by two, my brother Harry and a
+fair niece, the eldest of my brother Peyton's children. She is so much a
+woman that I am almost ashamed to say I am her aunt; and so pretty,
+that, if I had any design to gain of servants, I should not like her
+company; but I have none, and therefore shall endeavour to keep her here
+as long as I can persuade her father to spare her, for she will easily
+consent to it, having so much of my humour (though it be the worst thing
+in her) as to like a melancholy place and little company. My brother
+John is not come down again, nor am I certain when he will be here. He
+went from London into Gloucestershire to my sister who was very ill, and
+his youngest girl, of which he was very fond, is since dead. But I
+believe by that time his wife has a little recovered her sickness and
+loss of her child, he will be coming this way. My father is reasonably
+well, but keeps his chamber still, and will hardly, I am afraid, ever be
+so perfectly recovered as to come abroad again.
+
+I am sorry for poor Walker, but you need not doubt of what he has of
+yours in his hands, for it seems he does not use to do his work himself.
+I speak seriously, he keeps a Frenchman that sets all his seals and
+rings. If what you say of my Lady Leppington be of your own knowledge, I
+shall believe you, but otherwise I can assure you I have heard from
+people that pretend to know her very well, that her kindness to Compton
+was very moderate, and that she never liked him so well as when he died
+and gave her his estate. But they might be deceived, and 'tis not so
+strange as that you should imagine a coldness and an indifference in my
+letters when I so little meant it; but I am not displeased you should
+desire my kindness enough to apprehend the loss of it when it is safest.
+Only I would not have you apprehend it so far as to believe it
+possible,--that were an injury to all the assurances I have given you,
+and if you love me you cannot think me unworthy. I should think myself
+so, if I found you grew indifferent to me, that I have had so long and
+so particular a friendship for; but, sure, this is more than I need to
+say. You are enough in my heart to know all my thoughts, and if so, you
+know better than I can tell you how much I am
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 19._--Lady Ruthin is Susan, daughter and heiress of Charles
+Longueville Lord Grey de Ruthin. She married Sir Harry Yelverton, a
+match of which Dorothy thoroughly approved. We hear more of Dorothy's
+beautiful friend at the time when the treaty with Sir Harry Yelverton
+is going forward. Of Mr. Talbot I find nothing; we must rest contented
+in knowing him to be a fellow-servant.
+
+R. Spencer is Robert Spencer, Earl of Sunderland, Lady Sunderland's
+brother-in-law. He was afterwards one of the inner council of four in
+Temple's Scheme of Government. "In him," says Macaulay, in a somewhat
+highly-coloured character-sketch, "the political immortality of his age
+was personified in the most lively manner. Nature had given him a keen
+understanding, a restless and mischievous temper, a cold heart, and an
+abject spirit. His mind had undergone a training by which all his vices
+had been nursed up to the rankest maturity."
+
+Lady Lexington was Mary, daughter of Sir Anthony Leger; she was the
+third wife of Robert Sutton, Earl of Lexington. I cannot find that her
+daughter married one of the Spencers.
+
+
+SIR,--If to know I wish you with me pleases you, 'tis a satisfaction you
+may always have, for I do it perpetually; but were it really in my power
+to make you happy, I could not miss being so myself, for I know nothing
+else I want towards it. You are admitted to all my entertainments; and
+'twould be a pleasing surprise to me to see you amongst my
+shepherdesses. I meet some there sometimes that look very like gentlemen
+(for 'tis a road), and when they are in good humour they give us a
+compliment as they go by; but you would be so courteous as to stay, I
+hope, if we entreated you; 'tis in your way to this place, and just
+before the house. 'Tis our Hyde Park, and every fine evening, anybody
+that wanted a mistress might be sure to find one there. I have wondered
+often to meet my fair Lady Ruthin there alone; methinks it should be
+dangerous for an heir. I could find in my heart to steal her away
+myself, but it should be rather for her person than her fortune. My
+brother says not a word of you, nor your service, nor do I expect he
+should; if I could forget you, he would not help my memory. You would
+laugh, sure, if I could tell you how many servants he has offered me
+since he came down; but one above all the rest I think he is in love
+with himself, and may marry him too if he pleases, I shall not hinder
+him. 'Tis one Talbot, the finest gentleman he has seen this seven years;
+but the mischief on't is he has not above fifteen or sixteen hundred
+pound a year, though he swears he begins to think one might bate L500 a
+year for such a husband. I tell him I am glad to hear it; and if I was
+as much taken (as he) with Mr. Talbot, I should not be less gallant; but
+I doubted the first extremely. I have spleen enough to carry me to Epsom
+this summer; but yet I think I shall not go. If I make one journey, I
+must make more, for then I have no excuse. Rather than be obliged to
+that, I'll make none. You have so often reproached me with the loss of
+your liberty, that to make you some amends I am contented to be your
+prisoner this summer; but you shall do one favour for me into the
+bargain. When your father goes into Ireland, lay your commands upon some
+of his servants to get you an Irish greyhound. I have one that was the
+General's; but 'tis a bitch, and those are always much less than the
+dogs. I got it in the time of my favour there, and it was all they had.
+Henry Cromwell undertook to write to his brother Fleetwood for another
+for me; but I have lost my hopes there. Whomsoever it is that you
+employ, he will need no other instructions but to get the biggest he can
+meet with; 'tis all the beauty of those dogs, or of any kind, I think. A
+masty [mastif] is handsomer to me than the most exact little dog that
+ever lady played withal. You will not offer to take it ill that I employ
+you in such a commission, since I have told you that the General's son
+did not refuse it; but I shall take it ill if you do not take the same
+freedom with me whensoever I am capable of serving you. The town must
+needs be unpleasant now, and, methinks, you might contrive some way of
+having your letters sent to you without giving yourself the trouble of
+coming to town for them when you have no other business; you must pardon
+me if I think they cannot be worth it.
+
+I am told that R. Spencer is a servant to a lady of my acquaintance, a
+daughter of my Lady Lexington's. Is it true? And if it be, what is
+become of the L2500 lady? Would you think it, that I have an ambassador
+from the Emperor Justinian, that comes to renew the treaty? In earnest,
+'tis true, and I want your counsel extremely, what to do in it. You told
+me once that of all my servants you liked him the best. If I could do so
+too, there were no dispute in't. Well, I'll think on't, and if it
+succeed I will be as good as my word; you shall take your choice of my
+four daughters. Am not I beholding to him, think you? He says that he
+has made addresses, 'tis true, in several places since we parted, but
+could not fix anywhere; and, in his opinion, he sees nobody that would
+make so fit a wife for him as I. He has often inquired after me to hear
+if I were marrying, and somebody told him I had an ague, and he
+presently fell sick of one too, so natural a sympathy there is between
+us; and yet for all this, on my conscience, we shall never marry. He
+desires to know whether I am at liberty or not. What shall I tell him?
+Or shall I send him to you to know? I think that will be best. I'll say
+that you are much my friend, and that I have resolved not to dispose of
+myself but with your consent and approbation, and therefore he must make
+all his court to you; and when he can bring me a certificate under your
+hand, that you think him a fit husband for me, 'tis very likely I may
+have him. Till then I am his humble servant and your faithful friend.
+
+
+_Letter 20._--In this letter the journey into Sweden is given up
+finally, and Temple is once more without employment or the hope of
+employment. This was probably brought about by the alteration of the
+Government plans; and as Lord Lisle was not to go to Sweden, there was
+no chance of Temple's being attached to the Embassy.
+
+
+SIR,--I am sorry my last letter frighted you so; 'twas no part of my
+intention it should; but I am more sorry to see by your first chapter
+that your humour is not always so good as I could wish it. 'Twas the
+only thing I ever desired we might differ in, and therefore I think it
+is denied me. Whilst I read the description on't, I could not believe
+but that I had writ it myself, it was so much my own. I pity you in
+earnest much more than I do myself; and yet I may deserve yours when I
+shall have told you, that besides all that you speak of, I have gotten
+an ague that with two fits has made me so very weak, that I doubted
+extremely yesterday whether I should be able to sit up to-day to write
+to you. But you must not be troubled at this; that's the way to kill me
+indeed. Besides, it is impossible I should keep it long, for here is my
+eldest brother, and my cousin Molle, and two or three more that have
+great understanding in agues, as people that have been long acquainted
+with them, and they do so tutor and govern me, that I am neither to eat,
+drink, nor sleep without their leave; and, sure, my obedience deserves
+they should cure me, or else they are great tyrants to very little
+purpose. You cannot imagine how cruel they are to me, and yet will
+persuade me 'tis for my good. I know they mean it so, and therefore say
+nothing on't, I admit, and sigh to think those are not here that would
+be kinder to me. But you were cruel yourself when you seemed to
+apprehend I might oblige you to make good your last offer. Alack! if I
+could purchase the empire of the world at that rate, I should think it
+much too dear; and though, perhaps, I am too unhappy myself ever to make
+anybody else happy, yet, sure, I shall take heed that my misfortunes may
+not prove infectious to my friends. You ask counsel of a person that is
+very little able to give it. I cannot imagine whither you should go,
+since this journey is broke. You must e'en be content to stay at home, I
+think, and see what will become of us, though I expect nothing of good;
+and, sure, you never made a truer remark in your life than that all
+changes are for the worse. Will it not stay your father's journey too?
+Methinks it should. For God's sake write me all that you hear or can
+think of, that I may have something to entertain myself withal. I have a
+scurvy head that will not let me write longer.
+
+I am your.
+
+[Directed]--
+
+For Mrs. Paynter, at her house
+  in Bedford Street, next ye Goate,
+      In Covent Garden.
+
+
+_Letter 21._--Sir Thomas Osborne is Dorothy's "Cousin Osborne" here
+mentioned. He was, you remember, a suitor for Dorothy's hand, but has
+now married Lady Bridget Lindsay.
+
+The "squire that is as good as a knight," is, in all probability,
+Richard Bennet. Thomas Bennet, his father, an alderman of the city of
+London, had bought a seat near Cambridge, called Babraham or Babram,
+that had belonged to Sir Toby Palavicini. The alderman appears to have
+been a loyal citizen, as he was created baronet in 1660. His two sons,
+Sir Richard and Sir Thomas, married daughters of Sir Lavinius Munck;--so
+we need not accuse Dorothy of irretrievably breaking hearts by her
+various refusals.
+
+When Dorothy says she will "sit like the lady of the lobster, and give
+audience at Babram," she simply means that she will sit among
+magnificent surroundings unsuited to her modest disposition. The "lady"
+of a lobster is a curious-shaped substance in the head of that fish,
+bearing some distant resemblance to the figure of a woman. The
+expression is still known to fishmongers and others, who also refer to
+the "Adam and Eve" in a shrimp, a kindred formation. Curiously enough,
+this very phrase has completely puzzled Dr. Grosart, the learned editor
+of Herrick, who confesses that he can make nothing of the allusion in
+the following passage from _The Fairie Temple_:--
+
+          "The saint to which the most he prayes,
+           And offers Incense Nights and Dayes,
+           The Lady of the Lobster is
+           Whose foot-pace he doth stroak and kiss."
+
+Swift, too, uses the phrase in his _Battle of the Books_ in describing
+the encounter between Virgil and Dryden, where he says, "The helmet was
+nine times too large for the head, which appeared situate far in the
+hinder part, even like the lady in a lobster, or a mouse under a canopy
+of state, or like a shrivelled beau from within the penthouse of a
+modern periwig."
+
+
+SIR,--I do not know that anybody has frighted me, or beaten me, or put
+me into more passion than what I usually carry about me, but yesterday I
+missed my fit, and am not without hope I shall hear no more on't. My
+father has lost his too, and my eldest brother, but we all look like
+people risen from the dead. Only my cousin Molle keeps his still; and,
+in earnest, I am not certain whether he would lose it or not, for it
+gives him a lawful occasion of being nice and cautious about himself, to
+which he in his own humour is so much inclined that 'twere not easy for
+him to forbear it. You need not send me my Lady Newcastle's book at all,
+for I have seen it, and am satisfied that there are many soberer people
+in Bedlam. I'll swear her friends are much to blame to let her go
+abroad.
+
+But I am hugely pleased that you have seen my Lady. I knew you could not
+choose but like her; but yet, let me tell you, you have seen but the
+worst of her. Her conversation has more charms than can be in mere
+beauty, and her humour and disposition would make a deformed person
+appear lovely. You had strange luck to meet my brother so soon. He went
+up but last Tuesday. I heard from him on Thursday, but he did not tell
+me he had seen you; perhaps he did not think it convenient to put me in
+mind of you; besides, he thought he told me enough in telling me my
+cousin Osborne was married. Why did you not send me that news and a
+garland? Well, the best on't is I have a squire now that is as good as a
+knight. He was coming as fast as a coach and six horses could carry him,
+but I desired him to stay till my ague was gone, and give me a little
+time to recover my good looks; for I protest if he saw me now he would
+never deign to see me again. Oh, me! I can but think how I shall sit
+like the lady of the lobster, and give audience at Babram. You have been
+there, I am sure. Nobody that is at Cambridge 'scapes it. But you were
+never so welcome thither as you shall be when I am mistress on't. In the
+meantime, I have sent you the first tome of _Cyrus_ to read; when you
+have done with it, leave it at Mr. Hollingsworth's, and I'll send you
+another. I have had ladies with me all the afternoon that are for London
+to-morrow, and now I have as many letters to write as my Lord General's
+Secretary. Forgive me that this is no longer, for
+
+I am your.
+
+Addressed--
+
+For Mrs. Paynter, at her house in
+     Bedford Street, next ye Goate,
+           In Covent Garden.
+
+
+_Letter 22._--Mr. Fish and Mr. Freeman were probably neighbours of
+Dorothy. There is a Mr. Ralph Freeman of Aspedon Hall, in Hertfordshire,
+mentioned in contemporary chronicles; he died in 1714, aged 88, and was
+therefore about 37 years of age at this time. His father seems to have
+been an ideal country gentleman, "who," says Sir Henry Chauncy, "made
+his house neat, his gardens pleasant, his groves delicious, his children
+cheerful, his servants easy, and kept excellent order in his family."
+
+
+SIR,--You are more in my debt than you imagine. I never deserved a long
+letter so much as now, when you sent me a short one. I could tell you
+such a story ('tis too long to be written) as would make you see (what I
+never discover'd in myself before) that I am a valiant lady. In earnest,
+we have had such a skirmish, and upon so foolish an occasion, as I
+cannot tell which is strangest. The Emperor and his proposals began it;
+I talked merrily on't till I saw my brother put on his sober face, and
+could hardly then believe he was in earnest. It seems he was, for when I
+had spoke freely my meaning, it wrought so with him as to fetch up all
+that lay on his stomach. All the people that I had ever in my life
+refused were brought again upon the stage, like Richard the III.'s
+ghosts, to reproach me withal; and all the kindness his discoveries
+could make I had for you was laid to my charge. My best qualities (if I
+have any that are good) served but for aggravations of my fault, and I
+was allowed to have wit and understanding and discretion in other
+things, that it might appear I had none in this. Well, 'twas a pretty
+lecture, and I grew warm with it after a while; in short, we came so
+near an absolute falling out, that 'twas time to give over, and we said
+so much then that we have hardly spoken a word together since. But 'tis
+wonderful to see what curtseys and legs pass between us; and as before
+we were thought the kindest brother and sister, we are certainly the
+most complimental couple in England. 'Tis a strange change, and I am
+very sorry for it, but I'll swear I know not how to help it. I look
+upon't as one of my great misfortunes, and I must bear it, as that which
+is not my first nor likely to be my last. 'Tis but reasonable (as you
+say) that you should see me, and yet I know not now how it can well be.
+I am not for disguises, it looks like guilt, and I would not do a thing
+I durst not own. I cannot tell whether (if there were a necessity of
+your coming) I should not choose to have it when he is at home, and
+rather expose him to the trouble of entertaining a person whose company
+(here) would not be pleasing to him, and perhaps an opinion that I did
+it purposely to cross him, than that your coming in his absence should
+be thought a concealment. 'Twas one reason more than I told you why I
+resolv'd not to go to Epsom this summer, because I knew he would imagine
+it an agreement between us, and that something besides my spleen carried
+me thither; but whether you see me or not you may be satisfied I am safe
+enough, and you are in no danger to lose your prisoner, since so great a
+violence as this has not broke her chains. You will have nothing to
+thank me for after this; my whole life will not yield such another
+occasion to let you see at what rate I value your friendship, and I have
+been much better than my word in doing but what I promised you, since I
+have found it a much harder thing not to yield to the power of a near
+relation, and a greater kindness than I could then imagine it.
+
+To let you see I did not repent me of the last commission, I'll give you
+another. Here is a seal that Walker set for me, and 'tis dropt out; pray
+give it him to mend. If anything could be wonder'd at in this age, I
+should very much how you came by your informations. 'Tis more than I
+know if Mr. Freeman be my servant. I saw him not long since, and he told
+me no such thing. Do you know him? In earnest, he's a pretty gentleman,
+and has a great deal of good nature, I think, which may oblige him
+perhaps to speak well of his acquaintances without design. Mr. Fish is
+the Squire of Dames, and has so many mistresses that anybody may pretend
+a share in him and be believed; but though I have the honour to be his
+near neighbour, to speak freely, I cannot brag much that he makes any
+court to me; and I know no young woman in the country that he does not
+visit often.
+
+I have sent you another tome of _Cyrus_, pray send the first to Mr.
+Hollingsworth for my Lady. My cousin Molle went from hence to Cambridge
+on Thursday, and there's an end of Mr. Bennet. I have no company now but
+my niece Peyton, and my brother will be shortly for the term, but will
+make no long stay in town. I think my youngest brother comes down with
+him. Remember that you owe me a long letter and something for forgiving
+your last. I have no room for more than
+
+Your.
+
+
+_Letter 23._
+
+
+SIR,--I will tell you no more of my servants. I can no sooner give you
+some little hints whereabouts they live, but you know them presently,
+and I meant you should be beholding to me for your acquaintance. But it
+seems this gentleman is not so easy access, but you may acknowledge
+something due to me, if I incline him to look graciously upon you, and
+therefore there is not much harm done. What has kept him from marrying
+all this time, or how the humour comes so furiously upon him now, I know
+not; but if he may be believed, he is resolved to be a most romance
+squire, and go in quest of some enchanted damsel, whom if he likes, as
+to her person (for fortune is a thing below him),--and we do not read in
+history that any knight or squire was ever so discourteous as to inquire
+what portions their ladies had,--then he comes with the power of the
+county to demand her, (which for the present he may dispose of, being
+Sheriff), so I do not see who is able to resist him. All that is to be
+hoped is, that since he may reduce whomsoever he pleases to his
+obedience, he will be very curious in his choice, and then I am secure.
+
+It may be I dreamt it that you had met my brother, or else it was one of
+the reveries of my ague; if so, I hope I shall fall into no more of
+them. I have missed four fits, and had but five, and have recovered so
+much strength as made me venture to meet your letter on Wednesday, a
+mile from home. Yet my recovery will be nothing towards my leaving this
+place, where many reasons will oblige me to stay at least all this
+summer, unless some great alteration should happen in this family; that
+which I most own is my father's ill-health, which, though it be not in
+that extremity it has been, yet keeps him still a prisoner in his
+chamber, and for the most part to his bed, which is reason enough. But,
+besides, I can give you others. I am here much more out of people's way
+than in town, where my aunt and such as pretend an interest in me, and a
+power over me, do so persecute me with their good nature, and take it so
+ill that they are not accepted, as I would live in a hollow tree to
+avoid them. Here I have nobody but my brother to torment me, whom I can
+take the liberty to dispute with, and whom I have prevailed with
+hitherto to bring none of his pretenders to this place, because of the
+noise all such people make in a country, and the tittle-tattle it breeds
+among neighbours that have nothing to do but to inquire who marries and
+who makes love. If I can but keep him still in that humour Mr. Bennet
+and I are likely to preserve our state and treat at distance like
+princes; but we have not sent one another our pictures yet, though my
+cousin Molle, who was his agent here, begged mine very earnestly. But, I
+thank God, an imagination took him one morning that he was falling into
+a dropsy, and made him in such haste to go back to Cambridge to his
+doctor, that he never remembers anything he has to ask of me, but the
+coach to carry him away. I lent it most willingly, and gone he is. My
+eldest brother goes up to town on Monday too; perhaps you may see him,
+but I cannot direct you where to find him, for he is not yet resolved
+himself where to lie; only 'tis likely Nan may tell you when he is
+there. He will make no stay, I believe. You will think him altered (and,
+if it be possible) more melancholy than he was. If marriage agrees no
+better with other people than it does with him, I shall pray that all my
+friends may 'scape it. Yet if I were my cousin, H. Danvers, my Lady
+Diana should not, if I could help it, as well as I love her: I would try
+if ten thousand pound a year with a husband that doted on her, as I
+should do, could not keep her from being unhappy. Well, in earnest, if I
+were a prince, that lady should be my mistress, but I can give no rule
+to any one else, and perhaps those that are in no danger of losing their
+hearts to her may be infinitely taken with one I should not value at
+all; for (so says the Justinian) wise Providence has ordained it that by
+their different humours everybody might find something to please
+themselves withal, without envying their neighbours. And now I have
+begun to talk gravely and wisely, I'll try if I can go a little further
+without being out. No, I cannot, for I have forgot already what 'twas I
+would have said; but 'tis no matter, for, as I remember, it was not much
+to the purpose, and, besides, I have paper little enough left to chide
+you for asking so unkind a question as whether you were still the same
+in my thoughts. Have you deserved to be otherwise; that is, am I no more
+in yours? For till that be, it's impossible the other should; but that
+will never be, and I shall always be the same I am. My heart tells me
+so, and I believe it; for were it otherwise, Fortune would not persecute
+me thus. Oh, me! she's cruel, and how far her power may reach I know
+not, only I am sure, she cannot call back time that is past, and it is
+long since we resolved to be for ever
+
+Most faithful friends.
+
+
+_Letter 24._--Tom Cheeke is Sir Thomas Cheeke, Knight, of Purgo, in the
+county of Essex, or more probably his son, from the way Dorothy speaks
+of him; but it is difficult to discriminate among constant generations
+of Toms after a lapse of two hundred years. We find Sir Thomas's
+daughter was at this time the third wife of Lord Manchester; and it
+appears that Dorothy's great-grandfather married Catherine Cheeke,
+daughter of the then Sir Thomas. This will assist us to the connection
+between Dorothy, Tom Cheeke, and Lord Manchester. Sir Richard Franklin,
+Knight, married a daughter of Sir Thomas Cheeke. He purchased Moor Park,
+Hertfordshire, about this time. The park and the mansion he bought in
+1652 from the Earl of Monmouth, and the manor in 1655 from Sir Charles
+Harbord. The gardens had been laid out by the Countess of Bedford, who
+had sold the place in 1626 to the Earl of Pembroke. The house was well
+known to Temple, who describes the gardens in his Essay on Gardening;
+and when he retired in later years to an estate near Farnham in Surrey,
+he gave to it the name of Moor Park.
+
+Lord Manchester was Edward Montagu, second Earl of Manchester. He was
+educated at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, and sat for
+Huntingdonshire in the first two Parliaments of Charles I. He was called
+to the Upper House as Lord Kimbolton in 1626, and succeeded his father
+in 1642. His name is well known in history as that of the leader of the
+Puritans in the House of Lords, and as the only peer joined with the
+five members impeached by the King. He raised a regiment and fought
+under Essex at Edgehill, reconquered Lincolnshire, and took part in the
+battle of Marston Moor. At this time Cromwell was his subordinate, and
+to his directions Lord Manchester's successes are in all probability
+due. At the second battle of Newbury, Lord Manchester showed some
+hesitation in following up his success, and Cromwell accused him of
+lukewarmness in the cause from his place in the House of Commons. An
+inquiry was instituted, but the Committee never carried out their
+investigations, and in parliamentary language the matter then dropped.
+He afterwards held, among other offices, that of Chancellor of the
+University of Cambridge, and inducted a visitation and reform of that
+University. He resisted the trial of the King and the foundation of the
+Commonwealth, refused to sit in Cromwell's new House of Lords, and was
+among those Presbyterians who helped to bring about the Restoration.
+
+Cooper and Hoskins were famous miniature painters of the day. Samuel
+Cooper was a nephew of John Hoskins, who instructed him in the art of
+miniature painting, in which he soon out-rivalled his master. Cooper,
+who is styled by contemporary eulogists the "prince of limners," gave a
+strength and freedom to the art which it had not formerly possessed; but
+where he attempted to express more of the figure than the head, his
+drawing is defective. His painting was famous for the beauty of his
+carnation tints, and the loose flowing lines in which he described the
+hair of his model. He was a friend of the famous Samuel Butler. Hoskins,
+though a painter of less merit, had had the honour of painting His
+Majesty King Charles I., his Queen, and many members of the Court; and
+had passed through the varying fortunes of a fashionable
+portrait-painter, whose position, leaning as it does on the fickle
+approbation of the connoisseurs, is always liable to be wrested from him
+by a younger rival.
+
+It is noticeable that this is the first letter in which we have
+intimation of the world's gossip about Dorothy's love affairs. We may,
+perhaps not unfairly, trace the growth of Dorothy's affection for Temple
+by the actions of others. First her brother raises his objections, and
+then her relations begin to gossip; meanwhile the letters do not grow
+less kind.
+
+
+SIR,--You amaze me with your story of Tom Cheeke. I am certain he could
+not have had it where you imagine, and 'tis a miracle to me that he
+remember that there is such a one in the world as his cousin D.O. I am
+sure he has not seen her this six year, and I think but once in his
+life. If he has spread his opinion in that family, I shall quickly hear
+on't, for my cousin Molle is now gone to Kimbolton to my Lord
+Manchester, and from there he goes to Moor Park to my cousin Franklin's,
+and in one, or both, he will be sure to meet with it. The matter is not
+great, for I confess I do naturally hate the noise and talk of the
+world, and should be best pleased never to be known in't upon any
+occasion whatsoever; yet, since it can never be wholly avoided, one must
+satisfy oneself by doing nothing that one need care who knows. I do not
+think _a propos_ to tell anybody that you and I are very good friends,
+and it were better, sure, if nobody knew it but we ourselves. But if, in
+spite of all our caution, it be discovered, 'tis no treason nor anything
+else that's ill; and if anybody should tell me that I have had a greater
+kindness and esteem for you than for any one besides, I do not think I
+should deny it; howsoever you do, oblige me by not owning any such
+thing, for as you say, I have no reason to take it ill that you
+endeavour to preserve me a liberty, though I'm never likely to make use
+on't. Besides that, I agree with you too that certainly 'tis much better
+you should owe my kindness to nothing but your own merit and my
+inclination, than that there should lie any other necessity upon me of
+making good my words to you.
+
+For God's sake do not complain so that you do not see me; I believe I do
+not suffer less in't than you, but 'tis not to be helped. If I had a
+picture that were fit for you, you should have it. I have but one that's
+anything like, and that's a great one, but I will send it some time or
+other to Cooper or Hoskins, and have a little one drawn by it, if I
+cannot be in town to sit myself. You undo me by but dreaming how happy
+we might have been, when I consider how far we are from it in reality.
+Alas! how can you talk of defying fortune; nobody lives without it, and
+therefore why should you imagine you could? I know not how my brother
+comes to be so well informed as you say, but I am certain he knows the
+utmost of the injuries you have received from her. 'Tis not possible she
+should have used you worse than he says. We have had another debate, but
+much more calmly. 'Twas just upon his going up to town, and perhaps he
+thought it not fit to part in anger. Not to wrong him, he never said to
+me (whate'er he thought) a word in prejudice of you in your own person,
+and I never heard him accuse any but your fortune and my indiscretion.
+And whereas I did expect that (at least in compliment to me) he should
+have said we had been a couple of fools well met, he says by his troth
+he does not blame you, but bids me not deceive myself to think you have
+any great passion for me.
+
+If you have done with the first part of _Cyrus_, I should be glad Mr.
+Hollingsworth had it, because I mentioned some such thing in my last to
+my Lady; but there is no haste of restoring the other unless she should
+send to me for it, which I believe she will not. I have a third tome
+here against you have done with that second; and to encourage you, let
+me assure you that the more you read of them you will like them still
+better. Oh, me! whilst I think on't, let me ask you one question
+seriously, and pray resolve me truly;--do I look so stately as people
+apprehend? I vow to you I made nothing on't when Sir Emperor said so,
+because I had no great opinion of his judgment, but Mr. Freeman makes me
+mistrust myself extremely, not that I am sorry I did appear so to him
+(since it kept me from the displeasure of refusing an offer which I do
+not perhaps deserve), but that it is a scurvy quality in itself, and I
+am afraid I have it in great measure if I showed any of it to him, for
+whom I have so much respect and esteem. If it be so you must needs know
+it; for though my kindness will not let me look so upon you, you can see
+what I do to other people. And, besides, there was a time when we
+ourselves were indifferent to one another;--did I do so then, or have I
+learned it since? For God's sake tell me, that I may try to mend it. I
+could wish, too, that you would lay your commands on me to forbear
+fruit: here is enough to kill 1000 such as I am, and so extremely good,
+that nothing but your power can secure me; therefore forbid it me, that
+I may live to be
+
+Your.
+
+
+_Letter 25._--Dorothy's dissertations on love and marriage are always
+amusing in their demureness. Who Cousin Peters was we cannot now say,
+but she was evidently a relation and a gossip. The episode concerning
+Mistress Harrison and the Queen is explained by the following quotation
+from the autobiography of the Countess of Warwick.
+
+She is writing of Mr. Charles Rich, and says: "He was then in love with
+a Maid of Honour to the Queen, one Mrs. Hareson, that had been
+chamber-fellow to my sister-in-law whilst she lived at Court, and that
+brought on the acquaintance between him and my sister. He continued to
+be much with us for about five or six months, till my brother Broghill
+then (afterwards Earl of Orrery) grew also to be passionately in love
+with the same Mrs. Hareson. My brother then having a quarrel with Mr.
+Thomas Howard, second son to the Earl of Berkshire, about Mrs. Hareson
+(with whom he also was in love), Mr. Rich brought my brother a challenge
+from Mr. Howard, and was second to him against my brother when they
+fought, which they did without any great hurt of any side, being parted.
+This action made Mr. Rich judge it not civil to come to our house, and
+so for some time forbore doing it; but at last my brother's match with
+Mrs. Hareson being unhandsomely (on her side) broken off, when they
+were so near being married as the wedding clothes were to be made, and
+she after married Mr. Thomas Howard (to my father's great satisfaction),
+who always was averse to it, though, to comply with my brother's
+passion, he consented to it." There is a reference to the duel in a
+letter of Lord Cork, which fixes the date as 1639-40, but Mr. Nevile's
+name is nowhere mentioned.
+
+Lord Broghill is well known to the history of that time, both literary
+and political. He was Roger Boyle, afterwards Earl of Orrery, the fifth
+son of the "great Earl of Cork." He acted for the Parliament against the
+Catholics in Ireland, but was still thought to retain some partiality
+for the King's party. Cromwell, however, considered himself secure in
+Lord Broghill's attachment; and, indeed, he continued to serve not only
+Cromwell during his lifetime, but his son Richard, after his father's
+death, with great fidelity. Lord Broghill was active in forwarding the
+Restoration in Ireland, and in reward of his services was made Earl of
+Orrery. He died in 1679.
+
+
+SIR,--You have furnished me now with arguments to convince my brother,
+if he should ever enter on the dispute again. In earnest, I believed all
+this before, but 'twas something an ignorant kind of faith in me. I was
+satisfied myself, but could not tell how to persuade another of the
+truth on't; and to speak indifferently, there are such multitudes that
+abuse the names of love and friendship, and so very few that either
+understand or practise it in reality, that it may raise great doubts
+whether there is any such thing in the world or not, and such as do not
+find it in themselves will hardly believe 'tis anywhere. But it will
+easily be granted, that most people make haste to be miserable; that
+they put on their fetters as inconsiderately as a woodcock runs into a
+noose, and are carried by the weakest considerations imaginable to do a
+thing of the greatest consequence of anything that concerns this world.
+I was told by one (who pretends to know him very well) that nothing
+tempted my cousin Osborne to marry his lady (so much) as that she was an
+Earl's daughter; which methought was the prettiest fancy, and had the
+least of sense in it, of any I had heard on, considering that it was no
+addition to her person, that he had honour enough before for his
+fortune, and how little it is esteemed in this age,--if it be anything
+in a better,--which for my part I am not well satisfied in. Beside that,
+in this particular it does not sound handsomely. My Lady Bridget Osborne
+makes a worse name a great deal, methinks, than plain my Lady Osborne
+would do.
+
+I have been studying how Tom Cheeke might come by his intelligence, and
+I verily believe he has it from my cousin Peters. She lives near them in
+Essex, and in all likelihood, for want of other discourse to entertain
+him withal, she has come out with all she knows. The last time I saw her
+she asked me for you before she had spoke six words to me; and I, who of
+all things do not love to make secrets of trifles, told her I had seen
+you that day. She said no more, nor I neither; but perhaps it worked in
+her little brain. The best on't is, the matter is not great, for though
+I confess I had rather nobody knew it, yet 'tis that I shall never be
+ashamed to own.
+
+How kindly do I take these civilities of your father's; in earnest, you
+cannot imagine how his letter pleased me. I used to respect him merely
+as he was your father, but I begin now to owe it to himself; all that he
+says is so kind and so obliging, so natural and so easy, that one may
+see 'tis perfectly his disposition, and has nothing to disguise in it.
+'Tis long since that I knew how well he writ, perhaps you have forgot
+that you showed me a letter of his (to a French Marquis, I think, or
+some such man of his acquaintance) when I first knew you; I remember it
+very well, and that I thought it as handsome a letter as I had seen; but
+I have not skill it seems, for I like yours too.
+
+I can pardon all my cousin Franklin's little plots of discovery, if she
+believed herself when she said she was confident our humours would agree
+extremely well. In earnest, I think they do; for I mark that I am always
+of your opinion, unless it be when you will not allow that you write
+well, for there I am too much concerned. Jane told me t'other day very
+soberly that we write very much alike. I think she said it with an
+intent to please me, and did not fail in't; but if you write ill, 'twas
+no great compliment to me. _A propos de_ Jane, she bids me tell you
+that, if you liked your marmalade of quince, she would send you more,
+and she thinks better, that has been made since.
+
+'Twas a strange caprice, as you say, of Mrs. Harrison, but there is fate
+as well as love in those things. The Queen took the greatest pains to
+persuade her from it that could be; and (as somebody says, I know not
+who) "Majesty is no ill orator;" but all would not do. When she had
+nothing to say for herself, she told her she had rather beg with Mr.
+Howard than live in the greatest plenty that could be with either my
+Lord Broghill, Charles Rich, or Mr. Nevile,--for all these were dying
+for her then. I am afraid she has altered her opinion since 'twas too
+late, for I do not take Mr. Howard to be a person that can deserve one
+should neglect all the world for him. And where there is no reason to
+uphold a passion, it will sink of itself; but where there is, it may
+last eternally.--I am yours.
+
+
+_Letter 26._
+
+
+SIR,--The day I should have received your letter I was invited to dine
+at a rich widow's (whom I think I once told you of, and offered my
+service in case you thought fit to make addresses there); and she was so
+kind, and in so good humour, that if I had had any commission I should
+have thought it a very fit time to speak. We had a huge dinner, though
+the company was only of her own kindred that are in the house with her
+and what I brought; but she is broke loose from an old miserable husband
+that lived so long, she thinks if she does not make haste she shall not
+have time to spend what he left. She is old and was never handsome, and
+yet is courted a thousand times more than the greatest beauty in the
+world would be that had not a fortune. We could not eat in quiet for the
+letters and presents that came in from people that would not have looked
+upon her when they had met her if she had been left poor. I could not
+but laugh to myself at the meanness of their humour, and was merry
+enough all day, for the company was very good; and besides, I expected
+to find when I came home a letter from you that would be more a feast
+and company to me than all that was there. But never anybody was so
+defeated as I was to find none. I could not imagine the reason, only I
+assured myself it was no fault of yours, but perhaps a just punishment
+upon me for having been too much pleased in a company where you were
+not.
+
+After supper my brother and I fell into dispute about riches, and the
+great advantages of it; he instanced in the widow that it made one
+respected in the world. I said 'twas true, but that was a respect I
+should not at all value when I owed it only to my fortune. And we
+debated it so long till we had both talked ourselves weary enough to go
+to bed. Yet I did not sleep so well but that I chid my maid for waking
+me in the morning, till she stopped my mouth with saying she had letters
+for me. I had not patience to stay till I could rise, but made her tie
+up all the curtains to let in light; and among some others I found my
+dear letter that was first to be read, and which made all the rest not
+worth the reading. I could not but wonder to find in it that my cousin
+Franklin should want a true friend when 'tis thought she has the best
+husband in the world; he was so passionate for her before he had her,
+and so pleased with her since, that, in earnest, I did not think it
+possible she could have anything left to wish for that she had not
+already in such a husband with such a fortune. But she can best tell
+whether she is happy or not; only if she be not, I do not see how
+anybody else can hope it. I know her the least of all the sisters, and
+perhaps 'tis to my advantage that she knows me no more, since she speaks
+so obligingly of me. But do you think it was altogether without design
+she spoke it to you? When I remember she is Tom Cheeke's sister, I am
+apt to think she might have heard his news, and meant to try whether
+there was anything of truth in't. My cousin Molle, I think, means to end
+the summer there. They say, indeed, 'tis a very fine seat, but if I did
+not mistake Sir Thomas Cheeke, he told me there was never a good room in
+the house. I was wondering how you came by an acquaintance there,
+because I had never heard you speak that you knew them. I never saw him
+in my life, but he is famous for a kind husband. Only 'twas found fault
+with that he could not forbear kissing his wife before company, a
+foolish trick that young married men are apt to; he has left it long
+since, I suppose. But, seriously, 'tis as ill a sight as one would wish
+to see, and appears very rude, methinks, to the company.
+
+What a strange fellow this goldsmith is, he has a head fit for nothing
+but horns. I chid him once for a seal he set me just of this fashion and
+the same colours. If he were to make twenty they should be all so, his
+invention can stretch no further than blue and red. It makes me think of
+the fellow that could paint nothing but a flower-de-luce, who, when he
+met with one that was so firmly resolved to have a lion for his sign
+that there was no persuading him out on't, "Well," says the painter,
+"let it be a lion then, but it shall be as like a flower-de-luce as e'er
+you saw." So, because you would have it a dolphin, he consented to it,
+but it is like an ill-favoured knot of ribbon. I did not say anything of
+my father's being ill of late; I think I told you before, he kept his
+chamber ever since his last sickness, and so he does still. Yet I cannot
+say that he is at all sick, but has so general a weakness upon him that
+I am much afraid their opinion of him has too much of truth in it, and
+do extremely apprehend how the winter may work upon him. Will you pardon
+this strange scribbled letter, and the disorderliness on't? I know you
+would, though I should not tell you that I am not so much at leisure as
+I used to be. You can forgive your friends anything, and when I am not
+the faithfullest of those, never forgive me. You may direct your letters
+how you please, here will be nobody to receive it but
+
+Your.
+
+
+_Letter 27._--Althorp, in Northamptonshire, was the seat of Lady
+Sunderland's first husband, Robert Lord Spencer.
+
+
+SIR,--Your last came safe, and I shall follow your direction for the
+address of this, though, as you say, I cannot imagine what should tempt
+anybody to so severe a search for them, unless it be that he is not yet
+fully satisfied to what degree our friendship is grown, and thinks he
+may best inform himself from them. In earnest, 'twould not be unpleasant
+to hear our discourse. He forms his with so much art and design, and is
+so pleased with the hopes of making some discovery, and I [who] know him
+as well as he does himself, cannot but give myself the recreation
+sometimes of confounding him and destroying all that his busy head had
+been working on since the last conference. He gives me some trouble with
+his suspicions; yet, on my conscience, he is a greater to himself, and I
+deal with so much _franchise_ as to tell him so; and yet he has no more
+the heart to ask me directly what he would so fain know, than a jealous
+man has to ask (one that might tell him) whether he were a cuckold or
+not, for fear of being resolved of that which is yet a doubt to him. My
+eldest brother is not so inquisitive; he satisfies himself with
+persuading me earnestly to marry, and takes no notice of anything that
+may hinder me, but a carelessness of my fortune, or perhaps an aversion
+to a kind of life that appears to have less of freedom in't than that
+which at present I enjoy. But, sure, he gives himself another reason,
+for 'tis not very long since he took occasion to inquire for you very
+kindly of me; and though I could then give but little account of you, he
+smiled as if he did not altogether believe me, and afterwards
+maliciously said he wondered you did not marry. And I seemed to do so
+too, and said, if I knew any woman that had a great fortune, and were a
+person worthy of you, I should wish her you with all my heart. "But,
+sister," says he, "would you have him love her?" "Do you doubt it?" did
+I say; "he were not happy in't else." He laughed, and said my humour was
+pleasant; but he made some question whether it was natural or not. He
+cannot be so unjust as to let me lose him, sure, I was kind to him
+though I had some reason not to take it very well when he made that a
+secret to me which was known to so many that did not know him; but we
+shall never fall out, I believe, we are not apt to it, neither of us.
+
+If you are come back from Epsom, I may ask you how you like drinking
+water? I have wished it might agree as well with you as it did with me;
+and if it were as certain that the same thing would do us good as 'tis
+that the same thing would please us, I should not need to doubt it.
+Otherwise my wishes do not signify much, but I am forbid complaints, or
+to express my fears. And be it so, only you must pardon me if I cannot
+agree to give you false hopes; I must be deceived myself before I can
+deceive you, and I have so accustomed myself to tell you all that I
+think, that I must either say nothing, or that which I believe to be
+true.
+
+I cannot say but that I have wanted Jane; but it has been rather to have
+somebody to talk with of you, than that I needed anybody to put me in
+mind of you, and with all her diligence I should have often prevented
+her in that discourse. Were you at Althorp when you saw my Lady
+Sunderland and Mr. Smith, or are they in town? I have heard, indeed,
+that they are very happy; but withal that, as she is a very
+extraordinary person herself, so she aimed at doing extraordinary
+things, and when she had married Mr. Smith (because some people were so
+bold as to think she did it because she loved him) she undertook to
+convince the world that what she had done was in mere pity to his
+sufferings, and that she could not go a step lower to meet anybody than
+that led her, though when she thought there were no eyes on her, she was
+more gracious to him. But perhaps this might not be true, or it may be
+she is now grown weary of that constraint she put upon herself. I should
+have been sadder than you if I had been their neighbour to have seen
+them so kind; as I must have been if I had married the Emperor. He used
+to brag to me always of a great acquaintance he had there, what an
+esteem my lady had for him, and had the vanity (not to call it
+impudence) to talk sometimes as if he would have had me believe he might
+have had her, and would not; I'll swear I blushed for him when I saw he
+did not. He told me too, that though he had carried his addresses to me
+with all the privacy that was possible, because he saw I liked it best,
+and that 'twas partly his own humour too, yet she had discovered it, and
+could tell that there had been such a thing, and that it was broke off
+again, she knew not why; which certainly was a lie, as well as the
+other, for I do not think she ever heard there was such a one in the
+world as
+
+Your faithful friend.
+
+
+_Letter 28._--Dorothy's allusion to the "Seven Sleepers" refers to a
+story which occurs in the _Golden Legend_ and other places, of seven
+noble youths of Ephesus, who fled from persecution to a cave in Mount
+Celion. After two hundred and thirty years they awoke, but only to die
+soon afterwards. The fable is said to have arisen from a
+misinterpretation of the text, "They fell asleep in the Lord."
+
+
+SIR,--I did not lay it as a fault to your charge that you were not good
+at disguise; if it be one, I am too guilty on't myself to accuse
+another. And though I have been told it shows an unpractisedness in the
+world, and betrays to all that understand it better, yet since it is a
+quality I was not born with, nor ever like to get, I have always thought
+good to maintain that 'twas better not to need it than to have it.
+
+I give you many thanks for your care of my Irish dog, but I am extremely
+out of countenance your father should be troubled with it. Sure, he will
+think I have a most extravagant fancy; but do me the right as to let him
+know I am not so possessed with it as to consent he should be employed
+in such a commission.
+
+Your opinion of my eldest brother is, I think, very just, and when I
+said maliciously, I meant a French malice, which you know does not
+signify the same with an English one. I know not whether I told it you
+or not, but I concluded (from what you said of your indisposition) that
+it was very like the spleen; but perhaps I foresaw you would not be
+willing to own a disease that the severe part of the world holds to be
+merely imaginary and affected, and therefore proper only to women.
+However, I cannot but wish you had stayed longer at Epsom and drunk the
+waters with more order though in a less proportion. But did you drink
+them immediately from the well? I remember I was forbid it, and
+methought with a great deal of reason, for (especially at this time of
+year) the well is so low, and there is such a multitude to be served out
+on't, that you can hardly get any but what is thick and troubled; and I
+have marked that when it stood all night (for that was my direction) the
+bottom of the vessel it stood in would be covered an inch thick with a
+white clay, which, sure, has no great virtue in't, and is not very
+pleasant to drink.
+
+What a character of a young couple you give me! Would you would ask some
+one who knew him, whether he be not much more of an ass since his
+marriage than he was before. I have some reason to doubt that it alters
+people strangely. I made a visit t'other day to welcome a lady into this
+country whom her husband had newly brought down, and because I knew him,
+though not her, and she was a stranger here, 'twas a civility I owed
+them. But you cannot imagine how I was surprised to see a man that I had
+known so handsome, so capable of being made a pretty gentleman (for
+though he was no proud philosopher, as the Frenchmen say, he was that
+which good company and a little knowledge of the world would have made
+equal to many that think themselves very well, and are thought so),
+transformed into the direct shape of a great boy newly come from school.
+To see him wholly taken up with running on errands for his wife, and
+teaching her little dog tricks! And this was the best of him; for when
+he was at leisure to talk, he would suffer no one else to do it, and
+what he said, and the noise he made, if you had heard it, you would have
+concluded him drunk with joy that he had a wife and a pack of hounds. I
+was so weary on't that I made haste home, and could not but think of the
+change all the way till my brother (who was with me) thought me sad, and
+so, to put me in better humour, said he believed I repented me I had not
+this gentleman, now I saw how absolutely his wife governed him. But I
+assured him, that though I thought it very fit such as he should be
+governed, yet I should not like the employment by no means. It becomes
+no woman, and did so ill with this lady that in my opinion it spoiled a
+good face and a very fine gown. Yet the woman you met upon the way
+governed her husband and did it handsomely. It was, as you say, a great
+example of friendship, and much for the credit of our sex.
+
+You are too severe to Walker. I'll undertake he would set me twenty
+seals for nothing rather than undergo your wrath. I am in no haste for
+it, and so he does it well we will not fall out; perhaps he is not in
+the humour of keeping his word at present, and nobody can blame him if
+he be often in an ill one. But though I am merciful to him, as to one
+that has suffered enough already, I cannot excuse you that profess to be
+my friend and yet are content to let me live in such ignorance, write to
+me every week, and yet never send me any of the new phrases of the town.
+I could tell you, without abandoning the truth, that it is part of your
+_devoyre_ to correct the imperfections you find under my hand, and that
+my trouble resembles my wonder you can let me be dissatisfied. I should
+never have learnt any of these fine things from you; and, to say truth,
+I know not whether I shall from anybody else, if to learn them be to
+understand them. Pray what is meant by _wellness_ and _unwellness_; and
+why is _to some extreme_ better than _to some extremity_? I believe I
+shall live here till there is quite a new language spoke where you are,
+and shall come out like one of the Seven Sleepers, a creature of another
+age. But 'tis no matter so you understand me, though nobody else do,
+when I say how much I am
+
+Your faithful.
+
+
+_Letter 29._
+
+
+SIR,--I can give you leave to doubt anything but my kindness, though I
+can assure you I spake as I meant when I said I had not the vanity to
+believe I deserv'd yours, for I am not certain whether 'tis possible for
+anybody to deserve that another should love them above themselves,
+though I am certain many may deserve it more than me. But not to dispute
+this with you, let me tell you that I am thus far of your opinion, that
+upon some natures nothing is so powerful as kindness, and that I should
+give that to yours which all the merit in the world besides would not
+draw from me. I spake as if I had not done so already; but you may
+choose whether you will believe me or not, for, to say truth, I do not
+much believe myself in that point. No, all the kindness I have or ever
+had is yours; nor shall I ever repent it so, unless you shall ever
+repent yours. Without telling you what the inconveniences of your coming
+hither are, you may believe they are considerable, or else I should not
+deny you or myself the happiness of seeing one another; and if you dare
+trust me where I am equally concerned with you, I shall take hold of the
+first opportunity that may either admit you here or bring me nearer you.
+Sure you took somebody else for my cousin Peters? I can never believe
+her beauty able to smite anybody. I saw her when I was last in town, but
+she appear'd wholly the same to me, she was at St. Malo, with all her
+innocent good nature too, and asked for you so kindly, that I am sure
+she cannot have forgot you; nor do I think she had so much address as to
+do it merely in compliment to me. No, you are mistaken certainly; what
+should she do amongst all that company, unless she be towards a wedding?
+She has been kept at home, poor soul, and suffered so much of purgatory
+in this world that she needs not fear it in the next; and yet she is as
+merry as ever she was, which perhaps might make her look young, but that
+she laughs a little too much, and that will bring wrinkles, they say.
+Oh, me! now I talk of laughing, it makes me think of poor Jane. I had a
+letter from her the other day; she desired me to present her humble
+service to her master,--she did mean you, sure, for she named everybody
+else that she owes any service to,--and bid me say that she would keep
+her word with him. God knows what you have agreed on together. She tells
+me she shall stay long enough there to hear from me once more, and then
+she is resolved to come away.
+
+Here is a seal, which pray give Walker to set for me very handsomely,
+and not of any of those fashions he made my others, but of something
+that may differ from the rest. 'Tis a plain head, but not ill cut, I
+think. My eldest brother is now here, and we expect my youngest shortly,
+and then we shall be altogether, which I do not think we ever were twice
+in our lives. My niece is still with me, but her father threatens to
+fetch her away. If I can keep her to Michaelmas I may perhaps bring her
+up to town myself, and take that occasion of seeing you; but I have no
+other business that is worth my taking a journey, for I have had another
+summons from my aunt, and I protest I am afraid I shall be in rebellion
+there; but 'tis not to be helped. The widow writes me word, too, that I
+must expect her here about a month hence; and I find that I shall want
+no company, but only that which I would have, and for which I could
+willingly spare all the rest. Will it be ever thus? I am afraid it will.
+There has been complaints made on me already to my eldest brother (only
+in general, or at least he takes notice of no more), what offers I
+refuse, and what a strange humour has possessed me of being deaf to the
+advice of all my friends. I find I am to be baited by them all by turns.
+They weary themselves, and me too, to very little purpose, for to my
+thinking they talk the most impertinently that ever people did; and I
+believe they are not in my debt, but think the same of me. Sometimes I
+tell them I will not marry, and then they laugh at me; sometimes I say,
+"Not yet," and they laugh more, and would make me believe I shall be old
+within this twelvemonth. I tell them I shall be wiser then. They say
+'twill be to no purpose. Sometimes we are in earnest and sometimes in
+jest, but always saying something since my brother Henry found his
+tongue again. If you were with me I could make sport of all this; but
+"patience is my penance" is somebody's motto, and I think it must be
+mine.
+
+I am your.
+
+
+_Letter 30._--Here is Lord Lisle's embassage discussed again! We know
+that in the end it comes to nothing; Whitelocke going, but without
+Temple. The statute commanding the marriage ceremony to be conducted
+before Justices of the Peace was passed in August 1653; it is to some
+extent by such references as these that the letters have been dated and
+grouped. The Marriage Act of 1653, with the other statutes of this
+period, have been erased from the Statute Book; but a draft of it in
+Somers' Tracts remains to us for reference. It contained provisions for
+the names of those who intended being joined together in holy matrimony
+to be posted, with certain other particulars, upon the door of the
+common meeting-house, commonly called the parish church or chapel; and
+after the space of three weeks the parties, with two witnesses, might go
+before a magistrate, who, having satisfied himself, by means of
+examining witnesses on oath or otherwise, that all the preliminaries
+commanded by the Act had been properly fulfilled, further superintended
+the proceedings to perfect the said intended marriage as follows:--The
+man taking the woman by the hand pronounced these words, "I, A.B., do
+hereby in the presence of God take thee C.D. to be my wedded wife, and
+do also in the presence of God, and before these witnesses, promise to
+be unto thee a loving and faithful husband." Then the woman in similar
+formula promises to be a "loving, faithful, and obedient wife," and the
+magistrate pronounced the parties to be man and wife. This ceremony, and
+this only, was to be a legal marriage. It is probable that parties
+might and did add a voluntary religious rite to this compulsory civil
+ceremony, as is done at this day in many foreign countries.
+
+
+SIR,--You cannot imagine how I was surpris'd to find a letter that began
+"Dear brother;" I thought sure it could not belong at all to me, and was
+afraid I had lost one by it; that you intended me another, and in your
+haste had mistook this for that. Therefore, till I found the permission
+you gave me, I had laid it by with a resolution not to read it, but to
+send it again. If I had done so, I had missed a great deal of
+satisfaction which I received from it. In earnest, I cannot tell you how
+kindly I take all the obliging things you say in it of me; nor how
+pleased I should be (for your sake) if I were able to make good the
+character you give me to your brother, and that I did not owe a great
+part of it wholly to your friendship for me. I dare call nothing on't my
+own but faithfulness; that I may boast of with truth and modesty, since
+'tis but a simple virtue; and though some are without it, yet 'tis so
+absolutely necessary, that nobody wanting it can be worthy of any
+esteem. I see you speak well of me to other people, though you complain
+always to me. I know not how to believe I should misuse your heart as
+you pretend; I never had any quarrel to it, and since our friendship it
+has been dear to me as my own. 'Tis rather, sure, that you have a mind
+to try another, than that any dislike of yours makes you turn it over to
+me; but be it as it will, I am contented to stand to the loss, and
+perhaps when you have changed you will find so little difference that
+you'll be calling for your own again. Do but assure me that I shall find
+you almost as merry as my Lady Anne Wentworth is always, and nothing
+shall fright me from my purpose of seeing you as soon as I can with any
+conveniency. I would not have you insensible of our misfortunes, but I
+would not either that you should revenge them on yourself; no, that
+shows a want of constancy (which you will hardly yield to be your
+fault); but 'tis certain that there was never anything more mistaken
+than the Roman courage, when they killed themselves to avoid misfortunes
+that were infinitely worse than death. You confess 'tis an age since our
+story began, as is not fit for me to own. Is it not likely, then, that
+if my face had ever been good, it might be altered since then; or is it
+as unfit for me to own the change as the time that makes it? Be it as
+you please, I am not enough concerned in't to dispute it with you; for,
+trust me, if you would not have my face better, I am satisfied it should
+be as it is; since if ever I wished it otherwise, 'twas for your sake.
+
+I know not how I stumbled upon a news-book this week, and, for want of
+something else to do read it; it mentions my Lord Lisle's embassage
+again. Is there any such thing towards? I met with somebody else too
+in't that may concern anybody that has a mind to marry; 'tis a new form
+for it, that, sure, will fright the country people extremely, for they
+apprehend nothing like going before a Justice; they say no other
+marriage shall stand good in law. In conscience, I believe the old one
+is the better; and for my part I am resolved to stay till that comes in
+fashion again.
+
+Can your father have so perfectly forgiven already the injury I did him
+(since you will not allow it to be any to you), in hindering you of Mrs.
+Chambers, as to remember me with kindness? 'Tis most certain that I am
+obliged to him, and, in earnest, if I could hope it might ever be in my
+power to serve him I would promise something for myself. But is it not
+true, too, that you have represented me to him rather as you imagine me
+than as I am; and have you not given him an expectation that I shall
+never be able to satisfy? If you have, I can forgive you, because I know
+you meant well in't; but I have known some women that have commended
+others merely out of spite, and if I were malicious enough to envy
+anybody's beauty, I would cry it up to all that had not seen them;
+there's no such way to make anybody appear less handsome than they are.
+
+You must not forget that you are some letters in my debt, besides the
+answer to this. If there were not conveniences of sending, I should
+persecute you strangely. And yet you cannot wonder at it; the constant
+desire I have to hear from you, and the satisfaction your letters give
+me, would oblige one that has less time to write often. But yet I know
+what 'tis to be in the town. I could never write a letter from thence in
+my life of above a dozen lines; and though I see as little company as
+anybody that comes there, yet I always met with something or other that
+kept me idle. Therefore I can excuse it, though you do not exactly pay
+all that you owe, upon condition you shall tell me when I see you all
+that you should have writ if you had had time, and all that you can
+imagine to say to a person that is
+
+Your faithful friend.
+
+
+_Letter 31._--Dorothy is in mourning for her youngest brother, Robert,
+who died about this time. As she does not mention his death to Temple,
+we may take it that he was, though her brother, practically a stranger
+to her, living away from Chicksands, and rarely visiting her.
+
+General Monk's brother, to whom Dorothy refers, was Mr. Nicholas Monk,
+vicar of Kelkhampton, in Cornwall. General Monk's misfortune is no less
+a calamity than his marriage. The following extract from Guizot's _Life
+of Monk_ will fully explain the allusion: "The return of the new admiral
+[Monk] was marked by a domestic event which was not without its
+influence on his public conduct and reputation. Unrefined tastes, and
+that need of repose in his private life which usually accompanies
+activity in public affairs, had consigned him to the dominion of a woman
+of low character, destitute even of the charms which seduce, and whose
+manners did not belie the rumour which gave her for extraction a market
+stall, or even, according to some, a much less respectable profession.
+She had lived for some time past with Monk, and united to the influence
+of habit an impetuosity of will and words difficult to be resisted by
+the tranquil apathy of her lover. It is asserted that she had managed,
+as long since as 1649, to force him to a marriage; but this marriage was
+most certainly not declared until 1653." M. Guizot then quotes a letter,
+dated September 19, 1653, announcing the news of General Monk's
+marriage, and this would about correspond with the presumed date of
+Dorothy's letter. Greenwich Palace was probably occupied by Monk at this
+time, and Dorothy meant to say that Ann Clarges would be as much at home
+in Greenwich Palace as, say, the Lord Protector's wife at Whitehall.
+
+
+SIR,--It was, sure, a less fault in me to make a scruple of reading your
+letter to your brother, which in all likelihood I could not be concerned
+in, than for you to condemn the freedom you take of giving me directions
+in a thing where we are equally concerned. Therefore, if I forgive you
+this, you may justly forgive me t'other; and upon these terms we are
+friends again, are we not? No, stay! I have another fault to chide you
+for. You doubted whether you had not writ too much, and whether I could
+have the patience to read it or not. Why do you dissemble so abominably;
+you cannot think these things? How I should love that plain-heartedness
+you speak of, if you would use it; nothing is civil but that amongst
+friends. Your kind sister ought to chide you, too, for not writing to
+her, unless you have been with her to excuse it. I hope you have; and
+pray take some time to make her one visit from me, and carry my humble
+service with you, and tell her that 'tis not my fault that you are no
+better. I do not think I shall see the town before Michaelmas, therefore
+you may make what sallies you please. I am tied here to expect my
+brother Peyton, and then possibly we may go up together, for I should be
+at home again before the term. Then I may show you my niece; and you may
+confess that I am a kind aunt to desire her company, since the
+disadvantage of our being together will lie wholly upon me. But I must
+make it my bargain, that if I come you will not be frighted to see me;
+you think, I'll warrant, you have courage enough to endure a worse
+sight. You may be deceived, you never saw me in mourning yet; nobody
+that has will e'er desire to do it again, for their own sakes as well as
+mine. Oh, 'tis a most dismal dress,--I have not dared to look in the
+glass since I wore it; and certainly if it did so ill with other people
+as it does with me, it would never be worn.
+
+You told me of writing to your father, but you did not say whether you
+had heard from him, or how he did. May not I ask it? Is it possible that
+he saw me? Where were my eyes that I did not see him, for I believe I
+should have guessed at least that 'twas he if I had? They say you are
+very like him; but 'tis no wonder neither that I did not see him, for I
+saw not you when I met you there. 'Tis a place I look upon nobody in;
+and it was reproached to me by a kinsman, but a little before you came
+to me, that he had followed me to half a dozen shops to see when I would
+take notice of him, and was at last going away with a belief 'twas not
+I, because I did not seem to know him. Other people make it so much
+their business to gape, that I'll swear they put me so out of
+countenance I dare not look up for my life.
+
+I am sorry for General Monk's misfortunes, because you say he is your
+friend; but otherwise she will suit well enough with the rest of the
+great ladies of the times, and become Greenwich as well as some others
+do the rest of the King's houses. If I am not mistaken, that Monk has a
+brother lives in Cornwall; an honest gentleman, I have heard, and one
+that was a great acquaintance of a brother of mine who was killed there
+during the war, and so much his friend that upon his death he put
+himself and his family into mourning for him, which is not usual, I
+think, where there is no relation of kindred.
+
+I will take order that my letters shall be left with Jones, and yours
+called for there. As long as your last was, I read it over thrice in
+less than an hour, though, to say truth, I had skipped some on't the
+last time. I could not read my own confession so often. Love is a
+terrible word, and I should blush to death if anything but a letter
+accused me on't. Pray be merciful, and let it run friendship in my next
+charge. My Lady sends me word she has received those parts of _Cyrus_ I
+lent you. Here is another for you which, when you have read, you know
+how to dispose. There are four pretty stories in it, "_L'Amant Absente_,"
+"_L'Amant non Aime_," "_L'Amant Jaloux_," _et_ "_L'Amant dont La Maitresse
+est mort_." Tell me which you have most compassion for when you have
+read what every one says for himself. Perhaps you will not think it so
+easy to decide which is the most unhappy, as you may think by the titles
+their stories bear. Only let me desire you not to pity the jealous one,
+for I remember I could do nothing but laugh at him as one that sought
+his own vexation. This, and the little journeys (you say) you are to
+make, will entertain you till I come; which, sure, will be as soon as
+possible I can, since 'tis equally desired by you and your faithful.
+
+
+_Letter 32._--Things being more settled in that part of the world, Sir
+John Temple is returning to Ireland, where he intends taking his seat as
+Master of the Rolls once again. Temple joins his father soon after this,
+and stays in Ireland a few months.
+
+Lady Ormond was the wife of the first Duke of Ormond. She had obtained
+her pass to go over to Ireland on August 24th, 1653. The Ormonds had
+indeed been in great straits for want of money, and in August 1652 Lady
+Ormond had come over from Caen, where they were then living, to
+endeavour to claim Cromwell's promise of reserving to her that portion
+of their estate which had been her inheritance. After great delays she
+obtained L500, and a grant of L2000 per annum out of their Irish lands
+"lying most conveniently to Dunmore House." It must have been this
+matter that Dorothy had heard of when she questions "whether she will
+get it when she comes there."
+
+Francis Annesley, Lord Valentia, belonged to an ancient Nottinghamshire
+family, though he himself was born in Newport, Buckinghamshire. Of his
+daughter's marriage I can find nothing. Lord Valentia was at this time
+Secretary of State at Dublin.
+
+Sir Justinian has at length found a second wife. Her name is Vere, and
+she is the daughter of Lord Leigh of Stoneleigh. Thus do Dorothy's
+suitors, one by one, recover and cease to lament her obduracy. When she
+declares that she would rather have chosen _a chain to lead her apes in_
+than marry Sir Justinian, she refers to an old superstition as to the
+ultimate fate of spinsters--
+
+          Women, dying maids, lead apes in hell,
+
+runs the verse of an old play, and that is the whole superstition, the
+origin of which seems somewhat inexplicable. The phrase is thrice used
+by Shakespeare, and constantly occurs in the old burlesques and
+comedies; in one instance, in a comedy entitled "Love's Convert" (1651),
+it is altered to "lead an ape in _heaven_." Many will remember the fate
+of "The young Mary Anne" in the famous Ingoldsby legend, "Bloudie
+Jacke:"--
+
+          So they say she is now leading apes--
+                                    Bloudie Jack,
+          And mends bachelors' smallclothes below.
+
+No learned editor that I am acquainted with has been able to suggest an
+explanation of this curious expression.
+
+
+SIR,--All my quarrels to you are kind ones, for, sure, 'tis alike
+impossible for me to be angry as for you to give me the occasion;
+therefore, when I chide (unless it be that you are not careful enough of
+yourself, and hazard too much a health that I am more concerned in than
+my own), you need not study much for excuses, I can easily forgive you
+anything but want of kindness. The judgment you have made of the four
+lovers I recommended to you does so perfectly agree with what I think of
+them, that I hope it will not alter when you have read their stories.
+_L'Amant Absente_ has (in my opinion) a mistress so much beyond any of
+the rest, that to be in danger of losing her is more than to have lost
+the others; _L'Amant non Aime_ was an ass, under favour (notwithstanding
+the _Princesse Cleobuline's_ letter); his mistress had caprices that
+would have suited better with our _Amant Jaloux_ than with anybody else;
+and the _Prince Artibie_ was much to blame that he outlived his _belle
+Leontine_. But if you have met with the beginning of the story of
+_Amestris and Aglatides_, you will find the rest of it in this part I
+send you now; and 'tis, to me, one of the prettiest I have read, and the
+most natural. They say the gentleman that writes this romance has a
+sister that lives with him, a maid, and she furnishes him with all the
+little stories that come between, so that he only contrives the main
+design; and when he wants something to entertain his company withal, he
+calls to her for it. She has an excellent fancy, sure, and a great wit;
+but, I am sorry to tell it you, they say 'tis the most ill-favoured
+creature that ever was born. And 'tis often so; how seldom do we see a
+person excellent in anything but they have some great defect with it
+that pulls them low enough to make them equal with other people; and
+there is justice in't. Those that have fortunes have nothing else, and
+those that want it deserve to have it. That's but small comfort, though,
+you'll say; 'tis confessed, but there is no such thing as perfect
+happiness in this world, those that have come the nearest it had many
+things to wish; and,--bless me, whither am I going? Sure, 'tis the
+death's head I see stand before me puts me into this grave discourse
+(pray do not think I meant that for a conceit neither); how idly have I
+spent two sides of my paper, and am afraid, besides, I shall not have
+time to write two more. Therefore I'll make haste to tell you that my
+friendship for you makes me concerned in all your relations; that I have
+a great respect for Sir John, merely as he is your father, and that 'tis
+much increased by his kindness to you; that he has all my prayers and
+wishes for his safety; and that you will oblige me in letting me know
+when you hear any good news from him. He has met with a great deal of
+good company, I believe. My Lady Ormond, I am told, is waiting for a
+passage, and divers others; but this wind (if I am not mistaken) is not
+good for them. In earnest, 'tis a most sad thing that a person of her
+quality should be reduced to such a fortune as she has lived upon these
+late years, and that she should lose that which she brought, as well as
+that which was her husband's. Yet, I hear, she has now got some of her
+own land in Ireland granted her; but whether she will get it when she
+comes there is, I think, a question.
+
+We have a lady new come into this country that I pity, too, extremely.
+She is one of my Lord of Valentia's daughters, and has married an old
+fellow that is some threescore and ten, who has a house that is fitter
+for the hogs than for her, and a fortune that will not at all recompense
+the least of these inconveniences. Ah! 'tis most certain I should have
+chosen a handsome chain to lead my apes in before such a husband; but
+marrying and hanging go by destiny, they say. It was not mine, it seems,
+to have an emperor; the spiteful man, merely to vex me, has gone and
+married my countrywoman, my Lord Lee's daughter. What a multitude of
+willow garlands I shall weave before I die; I think I had best make them
+into faggots this cold weather, the flame they would make in a chimney
+would be of more use to me than that which was in the hearts of all
+those that gave them me, and would last as long. I did not think I
+should have got thus far. I have been so persecuted with visits all this
+week I have had no time to despatch anything of business, so that now I
+have done this I have forty letters more to write; how much rather would
+I have them all to you than to anybody else; or, rather, how much better
+would it be if there needed none to you, and that I could tell you
+without writing how much I am
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 33._--Sir Thomas Peyton, we must remember, had married Dorothy's
+eldest sister; she died many years ago, and Sir Thomas married again, in
+1648, one Dame Cicely Swan, a widow, whose character Dorothy gives us.
+
+Lord Monmouth was the eldest son of the Earl of Monmouth, and was born
+in 1596. He was educated at Exeter College, Oxford. His literary work
+was, at least, copious, and included some historical writing, as well as
+the translations mentioned by Dorothy. He published, among other things,
+_An Historical Relation of the United Provinces_, a _History of the Wars
+in Flanders_, and a _History of Venice_.
+
+Sir John Suckling, in the following doggerel, hails our noble author
+with a flunkey's enthusiasm,--
+
+          It is so rare and new a thing to see
+          Aught that belongs to young nobility
+          In print, but their own clothes, that we must praise
+          You, as we would do those first show the ways
+                          To arts or to new worlds.
+
+In such strain writes the author of _Why so pale and wan, fond lover?_
+and both the circumstance and the doggerel should be very instructive to
+the snobologist.
+
+The literary work of Lord Broghill is not unknown to fame, and Mr.
+Waller's verse is still read by us; but I have never seen a history of
+the Civil Wars from Mr. Waller's pen, and cannot find that he ever
+published one.
+
+_Prazimene_ and _Polexander_ are two romances translated from the
+French,--the former, a neat little duodecimo; the latter, a huge folio
+of more than three hundred and fifty closely-printed pages. The
+title-page of _Prazimene_, a very good example of its kind, runs as
+follows:--"Two delightful Novels, or the Unlucky Fair One; being the
+Amours of Milistrate and Prazimene, Illustrated with variety of Chance
+and Fortune. Translated from the French by a Person of Quality, London.
+Sold by Eben Tracy, at the Three Bibles on London Bridge." _Polexander_
+was "done into English by William Browne, Gent.," for the benefit and
+behoof of the Earl of Pembroke.
+
+William Fiennes, Lord Say and Sele, was one of the chiefs of the
+Independent party, a Republican, and one of the first to bear arms
+against the King. He had, for that day, extravagant notions of civil
+liberty, and on the disappointment of his hopes, he appears to have
+retired to the Isle of Lundy, on the coast of Devon, and continued a
+voluntary prisoner there until Cromwell's death. After the Restoration
+he was made Lord Chamberlain of the Household, and Lord Privy Seal. He
+published some political tracts, none of which are now in existence; and
+Anthony Wood mentions having seen other things of his, among which,
+maybe, was the romance that Dorothy had heard of, but which is lost to
+us.
+
+
+SIR,--Pray, let not the apprehension that others say fine things to me
+make your letters at all the shorter; for, if it were so, I should not
+think they did, and so long you are safe. My brother Peyton does,
+indeed, sometimes send me letters that may be excellent for aught I
+know, and the more likely because I do not understand them; but I may
+say to you (as to a friend) I do not like them, and have wondered that
+my sister (who, I may tell you too, and you will not think it vanity in
+me, had a great deal of wit, and was thought to write as well as most
+women in England) never persuaded him to alter his style, and make it a
+little more intelligible. He is an honest gentleman, in earnest, has
+understanding enough, and was an excellent husband to two very different
+wives, as two good ones could be. My sister was a melancholy, retired
+woman, and, besides the company of her husband and her books, never
+sought any, but could have spent a life much longer than hers was in
+looking to her house and her children. This lady is of a free, jolly
+humour, loves cards and company, and is never more pleased than when she
+sees a great many others that are so too. Now, with both these he so
+perfectly complied that 'tis hard to judge which humour he is more
+inclined to in himself; perhaps to neither, which makes it so much the
+more strange. His kindness to his first wife may give him an esteem for
+her sister; but he was too much smitten with this lady to think of
+marrying anybody else, and, seriously, I could not blame him, for she
+had, and has yet, great loveliness in her; she was very handsome, and is
+very good (one may read it in her face at first sight). A woman that is
+hugely civil to all people, and takes as generally as anybody that I
+know, but not more than my cousin Molle's letters do, but which, yet,
+you do not like, you say, nor I neither, I'll swear; and if it be
+ignorance in us both we'll forgive it one another. In my opinion these
+great scholars are not the best writers (of letters, I mean); of books,
+perhaps they are. I never had, I think, but one letter from Sir
+Justinian, but 'twas worth twenty of anybody's else to make me sport. It
+was the most sublime nonsense that in my life I ever read; and yet, I
+believe, he descended as low as he could to come near my weak
+understanding. 'Twill be no compliment after this to say I like your
+letters in themselves; not as they come from one that is not indifferent
+to me, but, seriously, I do. All letters, methinks, should be free and
+easy as one's discourse; not studied as an oration, nor made up of hard
+words like a charm. 'Tis an admirable thing to see how some people will
+labour to find out terms that may obscure a plain sense. Like a
+gentleman I know, who would never say "the weather grew cold," but that
+"winter began to salute us." I have no patience for such coxcombs, and
+cannot blame an old uncle of mine that threw the standish at his man's
+head because he writ a letter for him where, instead of saying (as his
+master bid him), "that he would have writ himself, but he had the gout
+in his hand," he said, "that the gout in his hand would not permit him
+to put pen to paper." The fellow thought he had mended it mightily, and
+that putting pen to paper was much better than plain writing.
+
+I have no patience neither for these translations of romances. I met
+with _Polexander_ and _L'illustre Bassa_ both so disguised that I, who
+am their old acquaintance, hardly know them; besides that, they were
+still so much French in words and phrases that 'twas impossible for one
+that understands not French to make anything of them. If poor
+_Prazimene_ be in the same dress, I would not see her for the world. She
+has suffered enough besides. I never saw but four tomes of her, and was
+told the gentleman that writ her story died when those were finished. I
+was very sorry for it, I remember, for I liked so far as I had seen of
+it extremely. Is it not my good Lord of Monmouth, or some such
+honourable personage, that presents her to the English ladies? I have
+heard many people wonder how he spends his estate. I believe he undoes
+himself with printing his translations. Nobody else will undergo the
+charge, because they never hope to sell enough of them to pay themselves
+withal. I was looking t'other day in a book of his where he translates
+_Pipero_ as piper, and twenty words more that are as false as this.
+
+My Lord Broghill, sure, will give us something worth the reading. My
+Lord Saye, I am told, has writ a romance since his retirement in the
+Isle of Lundy, and Mr. Waller, they say, is making one of our wars,
+which, if he does not mingle with a great deal of pleasing fiction,
+cannot be very diverting, sure, the subject is so sad.
+
+But all this is nothing to my coming to town, you'll say. 'Tis confest;
+and that I was willing as long as I could to avoid saying anything when
+I had nothing to say worth your knowing. I am still obliged to wait my
+brother Peyton and his lady coming. I had a letter from him this week,
+which I will send you, that you may see what hopes he gives. As little
+room as I have left, too, I must tell you what a present I had made me
+to-day. Two of the finest young Irish greyhounds that e'er I saw; a
+gentleman that serves the General sent them me. They are newly come
+over, and sent for by Henry Cromwell, he tells me, but not how he got
+them for me. However, I am glad I have them, and much the more because
+it dispenses with a very unfit employment that your father, out of his
+kindness to you and his civility to me, was content to take upon him.
+
+
+_Letter 34._
+
+
+SIR,--Jane was so unlucky as to come out of town before your return, but
+she tells me she left my letter with Nan Stacy for you. I was in hope
+she would have brought me one from you; and because she did not I was
+resolv'd to punish her, and kept her up till one o'clock telling me all
+her stories. Sure, if there be any truth in the old observation, your
+cheeks glowed notably; and 'tis most certain that if I were with you, I
+should chide notably. What do you mean to be so melancholy? By her
+report your humour is grown insupportable. I can allow it not to be
+altogether what she says, and yet it may be very ill too; but if you
+loved me you would not give yourself over to that which will infallibly
+kill you, if it continue. I know too well that our fortunes have given
+us occasion enough to complain and to be weary of her tyranny; but,
+alas! would it be better if I had lost you or you me; unless we were
+sure to die both together, 'twould but increase our misery, and add to
+that which is more already than we can well tell how to bear. You are
+more cruel than she regarding a life that's dearer to me than that of
+the whole world besides, and which makes all the happiness I have or
+ever shall be capable of. Therefore, by all our friendship I conjure you
+and, by the power you have given me, command you, to preserve yourself
+with the same care that you would have me live. 'Tis all the obedience I
+require of you, and will be the greatest testimony you can give me of
+your faith. When you have promised me this, 'tis not impossible that I
+may promise you shall see me shortly; though my brother Peyton (who says
+he will come down to fetch his daughter) hinders me from making the
+journey in compliment to her. Yet I shall perhaps find business enough
+to carry me up to town. 'Tis all the service I expect from two girls
+whose friends have given me leave to provide for, that some order I must
+take for the disposal of them may serve for my pretence to see you; but
+then I must find you pleased and in good humour, merry as you were wont
+to be when we first met, if you will not have me show that I am nothing
+akin to my cousin Osborne's lady.
+
+But what an age 'tis since we first met, and how great a change it has
+wrought in both of us; if there had been as great a one in my face, it
+could be either very handsome or very ugly. For God's sake, when we
+meet, let us design one day to remember old stories in, to ask one
+another by what degrees our friendship grew to this height 'tis at. In
+earnest, I am lost sometimes with thinking on't; and though I can never
+repent the share you have in my heart, I know not whether I gave it you
+willingly or not at first. No, to speak ingenuously, I think you got an
+interest there a good while before I thought you had any, and it grew so
+insensibly, and yet so fast, that all the traverses it has met with
+since has served rather to discover it to me than at all to hinder it.
+By this confession you will see I am past all disguise with you, and
+that you have reason to be satisfied with knowing as much of my heart as
+I do myself. Will the kindness of this letter excuse the shortness on't?
+For I have twenty more, I think, to write, and the hopes I had of
+receiving one from you last night kept me writing this when I had more
+time; or if all this will not satisfy, make your own conditions, so you
+do not return it me by the shortness of yours. Your servant kisses your
+hands, and I am
+
+Your faithful.
+
+
+_Letter 35._--This is written on the back of a letter of Sir Thomas
+Peyton to Dorothy, and is probably a postscript to _Letter 34_. Sir
+Thomas's letter is a good example of the stilted letter-writing in vogue
+at that time, which Dorothy tells us was so much admired. The affairs
+that are troubling him are legal matters in connection with his
+brother-in-law Henry Oxenden's estate. There is a multitude of letters
+in the MSS. in the British Museum referring to this business; but we are
+not greatly concerned with Oxenden's financial difficulties. Sir Edward
+Hales was a gentleman of noble family in Kent. There is one of the same
+name who in 1688 declares himself openly to be a Papist, and is tried
+under the Test Act. He is concerned in the same year in the escape of
+King James, providing him with a fishing-boat to carry him into France.
+This is in all probability the Sir Edward Hales referred to by Sir
+Thomas Peyton, unless it be a son of the same name. Here is the
+letter:--
+
+
+"Good sister,--I am very sorry to hear the loss of our good brother,
+whose short time gives us a sad example of our frail condition. But I
+will not say the loss, knowing whom I write to, whose religion and
+wisdom is a present stay to support in all worldly accidents.
+
+"'Tis long since we resolved to have given you a visit, and have
+relieved you of my daughter. But I have had the following of a most
+laborious affair, which hath cost me the travelling, though in our own
+country style, fifty ...; and I have been less at home than elsewhere
+ever since I came from London; which hath vext me the more in regard I
+have been detained from the desire I had of being with you before this
+time. Such entertainment, however, must all those have that have to do
+with such a purse-proud and wilful person as Sir Edward Hales. This next
+week being Michaelmas week, we shall end all and I be at liberty, I
+hope, to consider my own contentments. In the meantime I know not what
+excuses to make for the trouble I have put you to already, of which I
+grow to be ashamed; and I should much more be so if I did not know you
+to be as good as you are fair. In both which regards I have a great
+honour to be esteemed,
+
+"My good sister,
+
+"Your faithful brother and servant,
+
+"THOMAS PEYTON.
+
+"KNOWLTON, _Sept. 22, 1653_."
+
+
+_On the other side of Sir T. Peyton's Letter._
+
+
+Nothing that is paper can 'scape me when I have time to write, and 'tis
+to you. But that I am not willing to excite your envy, I would tell you
+how many letters I have despatched since I ended yours; and if I could
+show them you 'twould be a certain cure for it, for they are all very
+short ones, and most of them merely compliments, which I am sure you
+care not for.
+
+I had forgot in my other to tell you what Jane requires for the
+satisfaction of what you confess you owe her. You must promise her to be
+merry, and not to take cold when you are at the tennis court, for there
+she hears you are found.
+
+Because you mention my Lord Broghill and his wit, I have sent you some
+of his verses. My brother urged them against me one day in a dispute,
+where he would needs make me confess that no passion could be long
+lived, and that such as were most in love forgot that ever they had been
+so within a twelvemonth after they were married; and, in earnest, the
+want of examples to bring for the contrary puzzled me a little, so that
+I was fain to bring out those pitiful verses of my Lord Biron to his
+wife, which was so poor an argument that I was e'en ashamed on't myself,
+and he quickly laughed me out of countenance with saying they were just
+such as a married man's flame would produce and a wife inspire. I send
+you a love letter, too; which, simple as you see, it was sent me in very
+good earnest, and by a person of quality, as I was told. If you read it
+when you go to bed, 'twill certainly make your sleep approved.
+
+I am yours.
+
+
+_Letter 36._--My Lady Carlisle was, as Dorothy says, "an extraordinary
+person." She was the daughter of Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland,
+and at the age of eighteen, against her father's will and under somewhat
+romantic circumstances, married James Hay, Earl of Carlisle. Her sister
+married the Earl of Leicester, and she is therefore aunt to Lady
+Sunderland and Algernon Sydney. She was a favourite attendant of Queen
+Henrietta, and there are evil rumours connecting her name with that of
+Strafford. On Strafford's death, it is asserted that she transferred her
+affections to Pym, to whom she is said to have betrayed the secrets of
+the Court. There seems little doubt that it was she who gave notice to
+Pym of the King's coming to the House to seize the five members. In 1648
+she appears, however, to have assisted the Royalists with money for the
+purpose of raising a fleet to attack England, and at the Restoration she
+was received at Court, and employed herself in intriguing for the return
+of Queen Henrietta to England, which was opposed at the time by
+Clarendon and others. Soon after this, and in the year of the
+Restoration, she died suddenly. Poets of all grades, from Waller
+downwards, have sung of her beauty, vivacity, and wit; and Sir Toby
+Matthew speaks of her as "too lofty and dignified to be capable of
+friendship, and having too great a heart to be susceptible of
+love,"--an extravagance of compliment hardly satisfactory in this plain
+age.
+
+My Lord Paget, at whose house at Marlow Mr. Lely was staying, was a
+prominent loyalist both in camp and council chamber. He married Frances,
+the eldest daughter of the Earl of Holland, my Lady Diana's sister.
+
+Whether or not Dorothy really assisted young Sir Harry Yelverton in his
+suit for the hand of fair Lady Ruthin we cannot say, but they were
+undoubtedly married. Sir Harry Yelverton seems to have been a man of
+superior accomplishments and serious learning. He was at this time
+twenty years of age, and had been educated at St. Paul's School, London,
+and afterwards at Wadham College, Oxford, under the tutorship of Dr.
+Wilkins, Cromwell's brother-in-law, a learned and philosophical
+mathematician. He was admitted gentleman commoner in 1650, and it is
+said "made great proficiency in several branches of learning, being as
+exact a Latin and Grecian as any in the university of his age or time."
+He succeeded to his father's title soon after coming of age, and took a
+leading part in the politics of the day, becoming Knight of the Shire of
+Northampton in the Restoration Parliament. He was a high Tory, and a
+great defender of the Church and its ejected ministers, one of whom, Dr.
+Thomas Morton, the learned theologian, Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield,
+died in his house in 1659. He wrote a discourse on the "Truth and
+Reasonableness of the Religion delivered by Jesus Christ," a Preface to
+Dr. Morton's work on Episcopacy, and a vindication of the Church of
+England against the attacks of the famous Edward Bagshawe.
+
+In this letter Dorothy describes some husbands whom she could _not_
+marry. See what she expects in a lover! Have we not here some local
+squires hit off to the life? Could George Eliot herself have done more
+for us in like space?
+
+
+SIR,--Why are you so sullen, and why am I the cause? Can you believe
+that I do willingly defer my journey? I know you do not. Why, then,
+should my absence now be less supportable to you than heretofore? Nay,
+it shall not be long (if I can help it), and I shall break through all
+inconveniences rather than deny you anything that lies in my power to
+grant. But by your own rules, then, may I not expect the same from you?
+Is it possible that all I have said cannot oblige you to a care of
+yourself? What a pleasant distinction you make when you say that 'tis
+not melancholy makes you do these things, but a careless forgetfulness.
+Did ever anybody forget themselves to that degree that was not
+melancholy in extremity? Good God! how you are altered; and what is it
+that has done it? I have known you when of all the things in the world
+you would not have been taken for a discontent; you were, as I thought,
+perfectly pleased with your condition; what has made it so much worse
+since? I know nothing you have lost, and am sure you have gained a
+friend that is capable of the highest degree of friendship you can
+propound, that has already given an entire heart for that which she
+received, and 'tis no more in her will than in her power ever to recall
+it or divide it; if this be not enough to satisfy you, tell me what I
+can do more?
+
+There are a great many ingredients must go to the making me happy in a
+husband. First, as my cousin Franklin says, our humours must agree; and
+to do that he must have that kind of breeding that I have had, and used
+that kind of company. That is, he must not be so much a country
+gentleman as to understand nothing but hawks and dogs, and be fonder of
+either than his wife; nor of the next sort of them whose aim reaches no
+further than to be Justice of the Peace, and once in his life High
+Sheriff, who reads no book but statutes, and studies nothing but how to
+make a speech interlarded with Latin that may amaze his disagreeing poor
+neighbours, and fright them rather than persuade them into quietness. He
+must not be a thing that began the world in a free school, was sent from
+thence to the university, and is at his furthest when he reaches the
+Inns of Court, has no acquaintance but those of his form in these
+places, speaks the French he has picked out of old laws, and admires
+nothing but the stories he has heard of the revels that were kept there
+before his time. He must not be a town gallant neither, that lives in a
+tavern and an ordinary, that cannot imagine how an hour should be spent
+without company unless it be in sleeping, that makes court to all the
+women he sees, thinks they believe him, and laughs and is laughed at
+equally. Nor a travelled Monsieur whose head is all feather inside and
+outside, that can talk of nothing but dances and duets, and has courage
+enough to wear slashes when every one else dies with cold to see him. He
+must not be a fool of no sort, nor peevish, nor ill-natured, nor proud,
+nor covetous; and to all this must be added, that he must love me and I
+him as much as we are capable of loving. Without all this, his fortune,
+though never so great, would not satisfy me; and with it, a very
+moderate one would keep me from ever repenting my disposal.
+
+I have been as large and as particular in my descriptions as my cousin
+Molle is in his of Moor Park,--but that you know the place so well I
+would send it you,--nothing can come near his patience in writing it,
+but my reading on't. Would you had sent me your father's letter, it
+would not have been less welcome to me than to you; and you may safely
+believe that I am equally concerned with you in anything. I should be
+pleased to see something of my Lady Carlisle's writing, because she is
+so extraordinary a person. I have been thinking of sending you my
+picture till I could come myself; but a picture is but dull company, and
+that you need not; besides, I cannot tell whether it be very like me or
+not, though 'tis the best I ever had drawn for me, and Mr. Lilly [Lely]
+will have it that he never took more pains to make a good one in his
+life, and that was it I think that spoiled it. He was condemned for
+making the first he drew for me a little worse than I, and in making
+this better he has made it as unlike as t'other. He is now, I think, at
+my Lord Pagett's at Marloe [Marlow], where I am promised he shall draw a
+picture of my Lady for me,--she gives it me, she says, as the greatest
+testimony of her friendship to me, for by her own rule she is past the
+time of having pictures taken of her. After eighteen, she says, there is
+no face but decays apparently; I would fain have had her excepted such
+as had never been beauties, for my comfort, but she would not.
+
+When you see your friend Mr. Heningham, you may tell him in his ear
+there is a willow garland coming towards him. He might have sped better
+in his suit if he had made court to me, as well as to my Lady Ruthin.
+She has been my wife this seven years, and whosoever pretends there must
+ask my leave. I have now given my consent that she shall marry a very
+pretty little gentleman, Sir Christopher Yelverton's son, and I think we
+shall have a wedding ere it be long. My Lady her mother, in great
+kindness, would have recommended Heningham to me, and told me in a
+compliment that I was fitter for him than her daughter, who was younger,
+and therefore did not understand the world so well; that she was certain
+if he knew me he would be extremely taken, for I would make just that
+kind of wife he looked for. I humbly thanked her, but said I was certain
+he would not make that kind of husband I looked for,--and so it went no
+further.
+
+I expect my eldest brother here shortly, whose fortune is well mended by
+my other brother's death, so as if he were satisfied himself with what
+he has done, I know no reason why he might not be very happy; but I am
+afraid he is not. I have not seen my sister since I knew she was so;
+but, sure, she can have lost no beauty, for I never saw any that she
+had, but good black eyes, which cannot alter. He loves her, I think, at
+the ordinary rate of husbands, but not enough, I believe, to marry her
+so much to his disadvantage if it were to do again; and that would kill
+me were I as she, for I could be infinitely better satisfied with a
+husband that had never loved me in hopes he might, than with one that
+began to love me less than he had done.
+
+I am yours.
+
+
+_Letter 37._
+
+
+SIR,--You say I abuse you; and Jane says you abuse me when you say you
+are not melancholy: which is to be believed? Neither, I think; for I
+could not have said so positively (as it seems she did) that I should
+not be in town till my brother came back: he was not gone when she writ,
+nor is not yet; and if my brother Peyton had come before his going, I
+had spoiled her prediction. But now it cannot be; he goes on Monday or
+Tuesday at farthest. I hope you did truly with me, too, in saying that
+you are not melancholy (though she does not believe it). I am thought
+so, many times, when I am not at all guilty on't. How often do I sit in
+company a whole day, and when they are gone am not able to give an
+account of six words that was said, and many times could be so much
+better pleased with the entertainment my own thoughts give me, that 'tis
+all I can do to be so civil as not to let them see they trouble me. This
+may be your disease. However, remember you have promised me to be
+careful of yourself, and that if I secure what you have entrusted me
+with, you will answer for the rest. Be this our bargain then; and look
+that you give me as good an account of one as I shall give you of
+t'other. In earnest, I was strangely vexed to see myself forced to
+disappoint you so, and felt your trouble and my own too. How often I
+have wished myself with you, though but for a day, for an hour: I would
+have given all the time I am to spend here for it with all my heart.
+
+You could not but have laughed if you had seen me last night. My brother
+and Mr. Gibson were talking by the fire; and I sat by, but as no part of
+the company. Amongst other things (which I did not at all mind), they
+fell into a discourse of flying; and both agreed it was very possible to
+find out a way that people might fly like birds, and despatch their
+journeys: so I, that had not said a word all night, started up at that,
+and desired they would say a little more on't, for I had not marked the
+beginning; but instead of that, they both fell into so violent a
+laughing, that I should appear so much concerned in such an art; but
+they little knew of what use it might have been to me. Yet I saw you
+last night, but 'twas in a dream; and before I could say a word to you,
+or you to me, the disorder my joy to see you had put me into awakened
+me. Just now I was interrupted, too, and called away to entertain two
+dumb gentlemen;--you may imagine whether I was pleased to leave my
+writing to you for their company;--they have made such a tedious visit,
+too; and I am so tired with making of signs and tokens for everything I
+had to say. Good God! how do those that live with them always? They are
+brothers; and the eldest is a baronet, has a good estate, a wife and
+three or four children. He was my servant heretofore, and comes to see
+me still for old love's sake; but if he could have made me mistress of
+the world I could not have had him; and yet I'll swear he has nothing to
+be disliked in him but his want of tongue, which in a woman might have
+been a virtue.
+
+I sent you a part of _Cyrus_ last week, where you will meet with one
+Doralise in the story of Abradah and Panthee. The whole story is very
+good; but the humour makes the best part of it. I am of her opinion in
+most things that she says in her character of "_L'honnest homme_" that
+she is in search of, and her resolution of receiving no heart that had
+been offered to anybody else. Pray, tell me how you like her, and what
+fault you find in my Lady Carlisle's letter? Methinks the hand and the
+style both show her a great person, and 'tis writ in the way that's now
+affected by all that pretend to wit and good breeding; only, I am a
+little scandalized to confess that she uses that word faithful,--she
+that never knew how to be so in her life.
+
+I have sent you my picture because you wished for it; but, pray, let it
+not presume to disturb my Lady Sunderland's. Put it in some corner where
+no eyes may find it out but yours, to whom it is only intended. 'Tis not
+a very good one, but the best I shall ever have drawn of me; for, as my
+Lady says, my time for pictures is past, and therefore I have always
+refused to part with this, because I was sure the next would be a worse.
+There is a beauty in youth that every one has once in their lives; and I
+remember my mother used to say there was never anybody (that was not
+deformed) but were handsome, to some reasonable degree, once between
+fourteen and twenty. It must hang with the light on the left hand of it;
+and you may keep it if you please till I bring you the original. But
+then I must borrow it (for 'tis no more mine, if you like it), because
+my brother is often bringing people into my closet where it hangs, to
+show them other pictures that are there; and if he miss this long
+thence, 'twould trouble his jealous head.
+
+You are not the first that has told me I knew better what quality I
+would not have in a husband than what I would; but it was more
+pardonable in them. I thought you had understood better what kind of
+person I liked than anybody else could possibly have done, and therefore
+did not think it necessary to make you that description too. Those that
+I reckoned up were only such as I could not be persuaded to have upon no
+terms, though I had never seen such a person in my life as Mr. Temple:
+not but that all those may make very good husbands to some women; but
+they are so different from my humour that 'tis not possible we should
+ever agree; for though it might be reasonably enough expected that I
+should conform mine to theirs (to my shame be it spoken), I could never
+do it. And I have lived so long in the world, and so much at my own
+liberty, that whosoever has me must be content to take me as they find
+me, without hope of ever making me other than I am. I cannot so much as
+disguise my humour. When it was designed that I should have had Sir
+Jus., my brother used to tell he was confident that, with all his
+wisdom, any woman that had wit and discretion might make an ass of him,
+and govern him as she pleased. I could not deny that possibly it might
+be so, but 'twas that I was sure I could never do; and though 'tis
+likely I should have forced myself to so much compliance as was
+necessary for a reasonable wife, yet farther than that no design could
+ever have carried me; and I could not have flattered him into a belief
+that I admired him, to gain more than he and all his generation are
+worth.
+
+'Tis such an ease (as you say) not to be solicitous to please others: in
+earnest, I am no more concerned whether people think me handsome or
+ill-favoured, whether they think I have wit or that I have none, than I
+am whether they think my name Elizabeth or Dorothy. I would do nobody no
+injury; but I should never design to please above one; and that one I
+must love too, or else I should think it a trouble, and consequently not
+do it. I have made a general confession to you; will you give me
+absolution? Methinks you should; for you are not much better by your own
+relation; therefore 'tis easiest to forgive one another. When you hear
+anything from your father, remember that I am his humble servant, and
+much concerned in his good health.
+
+I am yours.
+
+
+_Letter 38._--Lady Isabella is Lady Isabella Rich, my Lady Diana's
+eldest sister. She married Sir James Thynne. Many years ago she had an
+intrigue with the Duke of Ormond, by whom she had a son, but Dorothy
+speaks, I think, of some later scandal than this.
+
+My Lady Pembroke was the daughter of the Earl of Cumberland. She first
+married Richard Earl of Dorset, and afterwards the Earl of Pembroke. She
+is described as a woman whose mind was endowed by nature with very
+extraordinary attributes. Lord Pembroke, on the other hand, according to
+Clarendon, pretended to no other qualification "than to understand
+horses and dogs very well, and to be believed honest and generous." His
+stables vied with palaces, and his falconry was furnished at immense
+expense; but in his private life he was characterized by gross
+ignorance and vice, and his public character was marked by ingratitude
+and instability. The life of Lady Pembroke was embittered by this man
+for near twenty years, and she was at length compelled to separate from
+him. She lived alone, until her husband's death, which took place in
+January 1650. One can understand that they were entirely unsuited to
+each other, when Lady Pembroke in her Memorials is found to write thus
+of her husband: "He was no scholar, having passed but three or four
+months at Oxford, when he was taken thence after his father's death. He
+was of quick apprehension, sharp understanding, very crafty withal; of a
+discerning spirit, but a choleric nature, increased by the office he
+held of Chamberlain to the King." Why, then, did the accomplished Lady
+Anne Clifford unite herself to so worthless a person? Does she not
+answer this question for us when she writes that he was "the greatest
+nobleman in England"?
+
+It is of some interest to us to remember that Francis Osborne, Dorothy's
+uncle (her father's youngest brother), was Master of the Horse to this
+great nobleman.
+
+Whether Lord and Lady Leicester were, as Dorothy says, "in great
+disorder" at this time, it is impossible to say. Lady Leicester is said
+to have been of a warm and irritable temper, and Lord Leicester is
+described by Clarendon as "staggering and irresolute in his nature."
+However, nothing is said of their quarrels; but, on the other hand,
+there is a very pathetic account in Lord Leicester's journal of his
+wife's death in 1659, which shows that, whatever this "disorder" may
+have been, a complete reconciliation was afterwards effected.
+
+
+SIR,--You would have me say something of my coming. Alas! how fain I
+would have something to say, but I know no more than you saw in that
+letter I sent you. How willingly would I tell you anything that I
+thought would please you; but I confess I do not like to give uncertain
+hopes, because I do not care to receive them. And I thought there was no
+need of saying I would be sure to take the first occasion, and that I
+waited with impatience for it, because I hoped you had believed all that
+already; and so you do, I am sure. Say what you will, you cannot but
+know my heart enough to be assured that I wish myself with you, for my
+own sake as well as yours. 'Tis rather that you love to hear me say it
+often, than that you doubt it; for I am no dissembler. I could not cry
+for a husband that were indifferent to me (like your cousin); no, nor
+for a husband that I loved neither. I think 'twould break my heart
+sooner than make me shed a tear. 'Tis ordinary griefs that make me weep.
+In earnest, you cannot imagine how often I have been told that I had too
+much _franchise_ in my humour, and that 'twas a point of good breeding
+to disguise handsomely; but I answered still for myself, that 'twas not
+to be expected I should be exactly bred, that had never seen a Court
+since I was capable of anything. Yet I know so much,--that my Lady
+Carlisle would take it very ill if you should not let her get the point
+of honour; 'tis all she aims at, to go beyond everybody in compliment.
+But are you not afraid of giving me a strong vanity with telling me I
+write better than the most extraordinary person in the world? If I had
+not the sense to understand that the reason why you like my letters
+better is only because they are kinder than hers, such a word might have
+undone me.
+
+But my Lady Isabella, that speaks, and looks, and sings, and plays, and
+all so prettily, why cannot I say that she is free from faults as her
+sister believes her? No; I am afraid she is not, and sorry that those
+she has are so generally known. My brother did not bring them for an
+example; but I did, and made him confess she had better have married a
+beggar than that beast with all his estate. She cannot be excused; but
+certainly they run a strange hazard that have such husbands as makes
+them think they cannot be more undone, whatever course they take. Oh,
+'tis ten thousand pities! I remember she was the first woman that ever I
+took notice of for extremely handsome; and, in earnest, she was then the
+loveliest lady that could be looked on, I think. But what should she do
+with beauty now? Were I as she, I should hide myself from all the world;
+I should think all people that looked on me read it in my face and
+despised me in their hearts; and at the same time they made me a leg, or
+spoke civilly to me, I should believe they did not think I deserved
+their respect. I'll tell you who he urged for an example though, my Lord
+Pembroke and my Lady, who, they say, are upon parting after all his
+passion for her, and his marrying her against the consent of all his
+friends; but to that I answered, that though he pretended great kindness
+he had for her, I never heard of much she had for him, and knew she
+married him merely for advantage. Nor is she a woman of that discretion
+as to do all that might become her, when she must do it rather as things
+fit to be done than as things she inclined to. Besides that, what with a
+spleenatick side and a chemical head, he is but an odd body himself.
+
+But is it possible what they say, that my Lord Leicester and my Lady are
+in great disorder, and that after forty years' patience he has now taken
+up the cudgels and resolved to venture for the mastery? Methinks he
+wakes out of his long sleep like a froward child, that wrangles and
+fights with all that comes near it. They say he has turned away almost
+every servant in the house, and left her at Penshurst to digest it as
+she can.
+
+What an age do we live in, where 'tis a miracle if in ten couples that
+are married, two of them live so as not to publish to the world that
+they cannot agree. I begin to be of your opinion of him that (when the
+Roman Church first propounded whether it were not convenient for priests
+not to marry) said that it might be convenient enough, but sure it was
+not our Saviour's intention, for He commanded that all should take up
+their cross and follow Him; and for his part, he was confident there was
+no such cross as a wife. This is an ill doctrine for me to preach; but
+to my friends I cannot but confess that I am afraid much of the fault
+lies in us; for I have observed that formerly, in great families, the
+men seldom disagree, but the women are always scolding; and 'tis most
+certain, that let the husband be what he will, if the wife have but
+patience (which, sure, becomes her best), the disorder cannot be great
+enough to make a noise; his anger alone, when it meets with nothing that
+resists it, cannot be loud enough to disturb the neighbours. And such a
+wife may be said to do as a kinswoman of ours that had a husband who was
+not always himself; and when he was otherwise, his humour was to rise in
+the night, and with two bedstaves labour on the table an hour together.
+She took care every night to lay a great cushion upon the table for him
+to strike on, that nobody might hear him, and so discover his madness.
+But 'tis a sad thing when all one's happiness is only that the world
+does not know you are miserable.
+
+For my part, I think it were very convenient that all such as intend to
+marry should live together in the same house some years of probation;
+and if, in all that time, they never disagreed, they should then be
+permitted to marry if they please; but how few would do it then! I do
+not remember that I ever saw or heard of any couple that were bred up so
+together (as many you know are, that are designed for one another from
+children), but they always disliked one another extremely; parted, if it
+were left in their choice. If people proceeded with this caution, the
+world would end sooner than is expected, I believe; and because, with
+all my wariness, 'tis not impossible but I may be caught, nor likely
+that I should be wiser than anybody else, 'twere best, I think, that I
+said no more on this point.
+
+What would I give to know that sister of yours that is so good at
+discovering; sure she is excellent company; she has reason to laugh at
+you when you would have persuaded her the "moss was sweet." I remember
+Jane brought some of it to me, to ask me if I thought it had no ill
+smell, and whether she might venture to put it in the box or not. I told
+her as I thought, she could not put a more innocent thing there, for I
+did not find it had any smell at all; besides, I was willing it should
+do me some service in requital for the pains I had taken for it. My
+niece and I wandered through some eight hundred acres of wood in search
+of it, to make rocks and strange things that her head is full of, and
+she admires it more than you did. If she had known I had consented it
+should have been used to fill up a box, she would have condemned me
+extremely. I told Jane that you liked her present, and she, I find, is
+resolved to spoil your compliment, and make you confess at last that
+they are not worth the eating; she threatens to send you more, but you
+would forgive her if you saw how she baits me every day to go to London;
+all that I can say will not satisfy her. When I urge (as 'tis true) that
+there is a necessity of my stay here, she grows furious, cries you will
+die with melancholy, and confounds me so with stories of your
+ill-humour, that I'll swear I think I should go merely to be at quiet,
+if it were possible, though there were no other reason for it. But I
+hope 'tis not so ill as she would have me believe it, though I know your
+humour is strangely altered from what it was, and am sorry to see it.
+Melancholy must needs do you more hurt than to another to whom it may be
+natural, as I think it is to me; therefore if you loved me you would
+take heed on't. Can you believe that you are dearer to me than the whole
+world beside, and yet neglect yourself? If you do not, you wrong a
+perfect friendship; and if you do, you must consider my interest in you,
+and preserve yourself to make me happy. Promise me this, or I shall
+haunt you worse than she does me. Scribble how you please, so you make
+your letter long enough; you see I give you good example; besides, I can
+assure you we do perfectly agree if you receive not satisfaction but
+from my letters, I have none but what yours give me.
+
+
+_Letter 39._--Dorothy has been in London since her last letter, but
+unfortunately she has either not met with Temple, or he has left town
+suddenly whilst she was there, on some unexplained errand. This would
+therefore seem a natural place to begin a new chapter; but as we have
+very shortly to come to a series of unhappy letters, quite distinct in
+their character from these, I have thought fit to place in this long
+chapter yet a few more letters after Dorothy's autumn visit to London.
+
+Stephen Marshall was, like Hugh Peters, one of those preachers who was
+able to exchange the obscurity of a country parish for the public fame
+of a London pulpit, by reason of a certain gift of rhetorical power,
+the value of which it is impossible to estimate to-day. Such of his
+sermons as are still extant are prosy, long-winded, dogmatic
+absurdities, overloaded with periphrastic illustrations in scriptural
+language. They are meaningless to a degree, which would make one wonder
+at the docility and patience of a seventeenth century congregation, if
+one had not witnessed a similar spirit in congregations of to-day.
+
+There is no honest biography of Stephen Marshall. In the news-books and
+tracts of the day we find references to sermons preached by him, by
+command, before the Army of the Parliament, and we have reprints of some
+of these. I have searched in vain to find the sermon which Dorothy
+heard, but it was probably not a sermon given on any great occasion, and
+we may believe it was never printed. There is an amusing scandalous
+tract, called the _Life and Death of Stephen Marshall_, which is so full
+of "evil speaking, lying, and slandering," as to be quite unworthy of
+quotation. From this we may take it, however, that he was born at
+Gormanchester, in Cromwell's county, was educated at Emmanuel College,
+Cambridge, and that before he came to London his chief cure of souls was
+at Finchingfield in Essex. These, and the records of his London
+preaching, are the only facts in his life's history which have come to
+my notice.
+
+My Lord Whitelocke did go to Sweden, as Dorothy surmises; setting sail
+from Plymouth with one hundred honest men, on October 26, 1653, or very
+soon afterwards, as one may read in his journal of the progress of the
+Embassy. That he should fill this office, appears to have been proposed
+to him by Cromwell in September of this year.
+
+An Act of Parliament to abolish the Chancery was indeed passed in the
+August of this year. Well may Lord Keble sore lament, and the rest of
+the world rejoice, at such news. Joseph Keble was a well-known law
+reporter, a son of Serjeant Richard Keble. He was a Fellow of All Souls,
+and a Bencher of Gray's Inn; and, furthermore, was one of the Lords
+Commissioners of the Great Seal from 1648-1654. There was "some debate,"
+says Whitelocke, "whether they should be styled 'Commissioners' or
+'Lords Commissioners,'" and though the word _Lords_ was far less
+acceptable at this time than formerly, yet that they might not seem to
+lessen their own authority, nor the honour of their office constituted
+by them, they voted the title to be "Lords Commissioners."
+
+
+SIR,--If want of kindness were the only crime I exempted from pardon,
+'twas not that I had the least apprehension you could be guilty of it;
+but to show you (by excepting only an impossible thing) that I excepted
+nothing. No, in earnest, I can fancy no such thing of you, or if I
+could, the quarrel would be to myself; I should never forgive my own
+folly that let me to choose a friend that could be false. But I'll leave
+this (which is not much to the purpose) and tell you how, with my usual
+impatience, I expected your letter, and how cold it went to my heart to
+see it so short a one. 'Twas so great a pain to me that I am resolv'd
+you shall not feel it; nor can I in justice punish you for a fault
+unwillingly committed. If I were your enemy, I could not use you ill
+when I saw Fortune do it too, and in gallantry and good nature both, I
+should think myself rather obliged to protect you from her injury (if it
+lay in my power) than double them upon you. These things considered, I
+believe this letter will be longer than ordinary,--kinder I think it
+cannot be. I always speak my heart to you; and that is so much your
+friend, it never furnishes me with anything to your disadvantage. I am
+glad you are an admirer of Telesile as well as I; in my opinion 'tis a
+fine Lady, but I know you will pity poor Amestris strongly when you have
+read her story. I'll swear I cried for her when I read it first, though
+she were but an imaginary person; and, sure, if anything of that kind
+can deserve it, her misfortunes may.
+
+God forgive me, I was as near laughing yesterday where I should not.
+Would you believe that I had the grace to go hear a sermon upon a week
+day? In earnest, 'tis true; a Mr. Marshall was the man that preached,
+but never anybody was so defeated. He is so famed that I expected rare
+things of him, and seriously I listened to him as if he had been St.
+Paul; and what do you think he told us? Why, that if there were no
+kings, no queens, no lords, no ladies, nor gentlemen, nor gentlewomen,
+in the world, 'twould be no loss to God Almighty at all. This we had
+over some forty times, which made me remember it whether I would or not.
+The rest was much at this rate, interlarded with the prettiest odd
+phrases, that I had the most ado to look soberly enough for the place I
+was in that ever I had in my life. He does not preach so always, sure?
+If he does, I cannot believe his sermons will do much towards bringing
+anybody to heaven more than by exercising their patience. Yet, I'll say
+that for him, he stood stoutly for tithes, though, in my opinion, few
+deserve them less than he; and it may be he would be better without
+them.
+
+Yet you are not convinced, you say, that to be miserable is the way to
+be good; to some natures I think it is not, but there are many of so
+careless and vain a temper, that the least breath of good fortune swells
+them with so much pride, that if they were not put in mind sometimes by
+a sound cross or two that they are mortal, they would hardly think it
+possible; and though 'tis a sign of a servile nature when fear produces
+more of reverence in us than love, yet there is more danger of
+forgetting oneself in a prosperous fortune than in the contrary, and
+affliction may be the surest (though not the pleasantest) guide to
+heaven. What think you, might not I preach with Mr. Marshall for a
+wager? But you could fancy a perfect happiness here, you say; that is
+not much, many people do so; but I never heard of anybody that ever had
+it more than in fancy, so that will not be strange if you should miss
+on't. One may be happy to a good degree, I think, in a faithful friend,
+a moderate fortune, and a retired life; further than this I know nothing
+to wish; but if there be anything beyond it, I wish it you.
+
+You did not tell me what carried you out of town in such haste. I hope
+the occasion was good, you must account to me for all that I lost by it.
+I shall expect a whole packet next week. Oh, me! I have forgot this once
+or twice to tell you, that if it be no inconvenience to you, I could
+wish you would change the place of direction for my letters. Certainly
+that Jones knows my name, I bespoke a saddle of him once, and though it
+be a good while agone, yet I was so often with him about it,--having
+much ado to make him understand how I would have it, it being of a
+fashion he had never seen, though, sure, it be common,--that I am
+confident he has not forgot me. Besides that, upon it he got my
+brother's custom; and I cannot tell whether he does not use the shop
+still. Jane presents her humble service to you, and has sent you
+something in a box; 'tis hard to imagine what she can find here to
+present you withal, and I am much in doubt whether you will not pay too
+dear for it if you discharge the carriage. 'Tis a pretty freedom she
+takes, but you may thank yourself; she thinks because you call her
+fellow-servant, she may use you accordingly. I bred her better, but you
+have spoiled her.
+
+Is it true that my Lord Whitlocke goes Ambassador where my Lord Lisle
+should have gone? I know not how he may appear in a Swedish Court, but
+he was never meant for a courtier at home, I believe. Yet 'tis a
+gracious Prince; he is often in this country, and always does us the
+favour to send for his fruit hither. He was making a purchase of one of
+the best houses in the county. I know not whether he goes on with it;
+but 'tis such a one as will not become anything less than a lord. And
+there is a talk as if the Chancery were going down; if so, his title
+goes with it, I think. 'Twill be sad news for my Lord Keble's son; he
+will have nothing left to say when "my Lord, my father," is taken from
+him. Were it not better that I had nothing to say neither, than that I
+should entertain you with such senseless things. I hope I am half
+asleep, nothing else can excuse me; if I were quite asleep, I should say
+fine things to you; I often dream I do; but perhaps if I could remember
+them they are no wiser than my wakening discourses. Good-night.
+
+
+_Letter 40._--A letter has been lost; whether Harrold or Collins, the
+two carriers, were either or both of them guilty of carelessness in the
+delivery of these letters, it is quite impossible to say now. Dorothy
+seems to think Harrold delivered the letter, and it was mislaid in
+London. Perhaps it was this letter, and what was written about it, that
+caused all those latent feelings of despair and discontent to awaken in
+the breasts of the two lovers. Was this the spark that loneliness and
+absence fanned into flame? You shall judge for yourself, reader, in the
+next chapter.
+
+
+SIR,--That you may be at more certainty hereafter what to think, let me
+tell you that nothing could hinder me from writing to you (as well for
+my own satisfaction as yours) but an impossibility of doing it; nothing
+but death or a dead palsy in my hands, or something that had the same
+effect. I did write it, and gave it Harrold, but by an accident his
+horse fell lame, so that he could not set out on Monday; but on Tuesday
+he did come to town; on Wednesday, carried the letter himself (as he
+tells me) where 'twas directed, which was to Mr. Copyn in Fleet Street.
+'Twas the first time I made use of that direction; no matter and I had
+not done it then, since it proves no better. Harrold came late home on
+Thursday night with such an account as your boy gave you: that coming
+out of town the same day he came in, he had been at Fleet Street again,
+but there was no letter for him. I was sorry, but I did not much wonder
+at it because he gave so little time, and resolved to make my best of
+that I had by Collins. I read it over often enough to make it equal with
+the longest letter that ever was writ, and pleased myself, in earnest
+(as much as it was possible for me in the humour I was in), to think how
+by that time you had asked me pardon for the little reproaches you had
+made me, and that the kindness and length of my letter had made you
+amends for the trouble it had given you in expecting it. But I am not a
+little annoyed to find you had it not. I am very confident it was
+delivered, and therefore you must search where the fault lies.
+
+Were it not that you had suffered too much already, I would complain a
+little of you. Why should you think me so careless of anything that you
+were concerned in, as to doubt that I had writ? Though I had received
+none from you, I should not have taken that occasion to revenge myself.
+Nay, I should have concluded you innocent, and have imagined a thousand
+ways how it might happen, rather than have suspected your want of
+kindness. Why should not you be as just to me? But I will not chide, it
+may be (as long as we have been friends) you do not know me so well yet
+as to make an absolute judgment of me; but if I know myself at all, if I
+am capable of being anything, 'tis a perfect friend. Yet I must chide
+too. Why did you get such a cold? Good God! how careless you are of a
+life that (by your own confession) I have told you makes all the
+happiness of mine. 'Tis unkindly done. What is left for me to say, when
+that will not prevail with you; or how can you persuade me to a cure of
+myself, when you refuse to give me the example? I have nothing in the
+world that gives me the least desire of preserving myself, but the
+opinion I have you would not be willing to lose me; and yet, if you saw
+with what caution I live (at least to what I did before), you would
+reproach it to yourself sometimes, and might grant, perhaps, that you
+have not got the advantage of me in friendship so much as you imagine.
+What (besides your consideration) could oblige me to live and lose all
+the rest of my friends thus one after another? Sure I am not insensible
+nor very ill-natured, and yet I'll swear I think I do not afflict myself
+half so much as another would do that had my losses. I pay nothing of
+sadness to the memory of my poor brother, but I presently disperse it
+with thinking what I owe in thankfulness that 'tis not you I mourn for.
+
+Well, give me no more occasions to complain of you, you know not what
+may follow. Here was Mr. Freeman yesterday that made me a very kind
+visit, and said so many fine things to me, that I was confounded with
+his civilities, and had nothing to say for myself. I could have wished
+then that he had considered me less and my niece more; but if you
+continue to use me thus, in earnest, I'll not be so much her friend
+hereafter. Methinks I see you laugh at all my threatenings; and not
+without reason. Mr. Freeman, you believe, is designed for somebody that
+deserves him better. I think so too, and am not sorry for it; and you
+have reason to believe I never can be other than
+
+Your faithful friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+DESPONDENCY. CHRISTMAS 1653
+
+
+This chapter of letters is a sad note, sounding out from among its
+fellows with mournful clearness. There had seemed a doubt whether all
+these letters must be regarded as of one series, or whether, more
+correctly, it was to be assumed that Dorothy and Temple had their
+lovers' quarrels, for the well-understood pleasure of kissing friends
+again. But you will agree that these lovers were not altogether as other
+lovers are, that their troubles were too real and too many for their
+love to need the stimulus of constant April shower quarrels; and these
+letters are very serious in their sadness, imprinting themselves in the
+mind after constant reading as landmarks clearly defining the course and
+progress of an unusual event in these lovers' history--a
+misunderstanding.
+
+The letters are written at Christmastide, 1653. Dorothy had returned
+from London to Chicksands, and either had not seen Temple or he had left
+London hurriedly whilst she was there. There is a letter lost. Dorothy's
+youngest brother is lately dead; her niece has left her; her companion
+Jane is sick; her father, growing daily weaker and weaker, was sinking
+into his grave before her eyes. No bright chance seemed to open before
+her, and their marriage seemed an impossibility. For a moment she loses
+faith, not in Temple, but in fortune; faith once gone, hope, missing her
+comrade, flies away in search of her. She is alone in the old house with
+her dying father, and with her brother pouring his unkind gossip into
+her unwilling ear, whilst the sad long year draws slowly to its close,
+and there is no sign of better fortune for the lovers; can we wonder,
+then, that Dorothy, lonely and unaided, pacing in the damp garden
+beneath the bare trees, with all the bright summer changed into decay,
+lost faith and hope?
+
+Temple, when Dorothy's thoughts reach him, must have replied with some
+impatience. There are stories, too, set about concerning her good name
+by one Mr. B., to disturb Temple. Temple can hardly have given credence
+to these, but he may have complained of them to Dorothy, who is led to
+declare, "I am the most unfortunate woman breathing, but I was never
+false," though she forgives her lover "all those strange thoughts he has
+had" of her. Whatever were the causes of the quarrel, or rather the
+despondency, we shall never know accurately. Dorothy was not the woman
+to vapour for months about "an early and a quiet grave." When she writes
+this it is written in the deepest earnest of despair; when this mood is
+over it is over for ever, and we emerge into a clear atmosphere of hope
+and content. The despondency has been agonizing, but the agony is sharp
+and rapid, and gives place to the wisdom of hope.
+
+Temple now comes to Chicksands at an early date. There is a new
+interchange of vows. Never again will their faith be shaken by fretting
+and despair; and these vows are never broken, but remain with the lovers
+until they are set aside by others, taken under the solemn sanction of
+the law, and the old troubles vanish in new responsibilities and a new
+life.
+
+_Letter 41._--Lady Anne Blunt was a daughter of the Earl of Newport. Her
+mother had turned Catholic in 1637, which had led to an estrangement
+between her and her husband, and we may conclude poor Lady Anne had by
+no means a happy home. There are two scandals connected with her name.
+She appears to have run away with one William Blunt,--the "Mr. Blunt"
+mentioned by Dorothy in her next letter; and on April 18, 1654, she
+petitioned the Protector to issue a special commission upon her whole
+case. Mr. Blunt pretended that she was contracted to him for the sake,
+it is said, of gaining money thereby. There being no Bishop's Court at
+this time, there are legal difficulties in the way, and we never hear
+the result of the petition. Again, in February 1655, one Mr. Porter
+finds himself committed to Lambeth House for carrying away the Lady Anne
+Blunt, and endeavouring to marry her without her father's consent.
+
+
+SIR,--Having tired myself with thinking, I mean to weary you with
+reading, and revenge myself that way for all the unquiet thoughts you
+have given me. But I intended this a sober letter, and therefore, _sans
+raillerie_, let me tell you, I have seriously considered all our
+misfortunes, and can see no end of them but by submitting to that which
+we cannot avoid, and by yielding to it break the force of a blow which
+if resisted brings a certain ruin. I think I need not tell you how dear
+you have been to me, nor that in your kindness I placed all the
+satisfaction of my life; 'twas the only happiness I proposed to myself,
+and had set my heart so much upon it that it was therefore made my
+punishment, to let me see that, how innocent soever I thought my
+affection, it was guilty in being greater than is allowable for things
+of this world. 'Tis not a melancholy humour gives me these apprehensions
+and inclinations, nor the persuasions of others; 'tis the result of a
+long strife with myself, before my reason could overcome my passion, or
+bring me to a perfect resignation to whatsoever is allotted for me. 'Tis
+now done, I hope, and I have nothing left but to persuade you to that,
+which I assure myself your own judgment will approve in the end, and
+your reason has often prevailed with you to offer; that which you would
+have done then out of kindness to me and point of honour, I would have
+you do now out of wisdom and kindness to yourself. Not that I would
+disclaim my part in it or lessen my obligation to you, no, I am your
+friend as much as ever I was in my life, I think more, and I am sure I
+shall never be less. I have known you long enough to discern that you
+have all the qualities that make an excellent friend, and I shall
+endeavour to deserve that you may be so to me; but I would have you do
+this upon the justest grounds, and such as may conduce most to your
+quiet and future satisfaction. When we have tried all ways to happiness,
+there is no such thing to be found but in a mind conformed to one's
+condition, whatever it be, and in not aiming at anything that is either
+impossible or improbable; all the rest is but vanity and vexation of
+spirit, and I durst pronounce it so from that little knowledge I have
+had of the world, though I had not Scripture for my warrant. The
+shepherd that bragged to the traveller, who asked him, "What weather it
+was like to be?" that it should be what weather pleased him, and made it
+good by saying it should be what weather pleased God, and what pleased
+God should please him, said an excellent thing in such language, and
+knew enough to make him the happiest person in the world if he made a
+right use on't. There can be no pleasure in a struggling life, and that
+folly which we condemn in an ambitious man, that's ever labouring for
+that which is hardly got and more uncertainly kept, is seen in all
+according to their several humours; in some 'tis covetousness, in others
+pride, in some stubbornness of nature that chooses always to go against
+the tide, and in others an unfortunate fancy to things that are in
+themselves innocent till we make them otherwise by desiring them too
+much. Of this sort you and I are, I think; we have lived hitherto upon
+hopes so airy that I have often wondered how they could support the
+weight of our misfortunes; but passion gives a strength above nature, we
+see it in mad people; and, not to flatter ourselves, ours is but a
+refined degree of madness. What can it be else to be lost to all things
+in the world but that single object that takes up one's fancy, to lose
+all the quiet and repose of one's life in hunting after it, when there
+is so little likelihood of ever gaining it, and so many more probable
+accidents that will infallibly make us miss on't? And which is more than
+all, 'tis being mastered by that which reason and religion teaches us to
+govern, and in that only gives us a pre-eminence over beasts. This,
+soberly consider'd, is enough to let us see our error, and consequently
+to persuade us to redeem it. To another person, I should justify myself
+that 'tis not a lightness in my nature, nor any interest that is not
+common to us both, that has wrought this change in me. To you that know
+my heart, and from whom I shall never hide it, to whom a thousand
+testimonies of my kindness can witness the reality of it, and whose
+friendship is not built upon common grounds, I have no more to say but
+that I impose not my opinions upon you, and that I had rather you took
+them up as your own choice than upon my entreaty. But if, as we have not
+differed in anything else, we could agree in this too, and resolve upon
+a friendship that will be much the perfecter for having nothing of
+passion in it, how happy might we be without so much as a fear of the
+change that any accident could bring. We might defy all that fortune
+could do, and putting off all disguise and constraint, with that which
+only made it necessary, make our lives as easy to us as the condition of
+this world will permit. I may own you as a person that I extremely value
+and esteem, and for whom I have a particular friendship, and you may
+consider me as one that will always be
+
+Your faithful.
+
+
+This was written when I expected a letter from you, how came I to miss
+it? I thought at first it might be the carrier's fault in changing his
+time without giving notice, but he assures me he did, to Nan. My
+brother's groom came down to-day, too, and saw her, he tells me, but
+brings me nothing from her; if nothing of ill be the cause, I am
+contented. You hear the noise my Lady Anne Blunt has made with her
+marrying? I am so weary with meeting it in all places where I go; from
+what is she fallen! they talked but the week before that she should have
+my Lord of Strafford. Did you not intend to write to me when you writ to
+Jane? That bit of paper did me great service; without it I should have
+had strange apprehension, and my sad dreams, and the several frights I
+have waked in, would have run so in my head that I should have concluded
+something of very ill from your silence. Poor Jane is sick, but she will
+write, she says, if she can. Did you send the last part of _Cyrus_ to
+Mr. Hollingsworth?
+
+
+_Letter 42._
+
+
+SIR,--I am extremely sorry that your letter miscarried, but I am
+confident my brother has it not. As cunning as he is, he could not hide
+from me, but that I should discover it some way or other. No; he was
+here, and both his men, when this letter should have come, and not one
+of them stirred out that day; indeed, the next day they went all to
+London. The note you writ to Jane came in one of Nan's, by Collins, but
+nothing else; it must be lost by the porter that was sent with it, and
+'twas very unhappy that there should be anything in it of more
+consequence than ordinary; it may be numbered amongst the rest of our
+misfortunes, all which an inconsiderate passion has occasioned. You must
+pardon me I cannot be reconciled to it, it has been the ruin of us both.
+'Tis true that nobody must imagine to themselves ever to be absolute
+master on't, but there is great difference betwixt that and yielding to
+it, between striving with it and soothing it up till it grows too strong
+for one. Can I remember how ignorantly and innocently I suffered it to
+steal upon me by degrees; how under a mask of friendship I cozened
+myself into that which, had it appeared to me at first in its true
+shape, I had feared and shunned? Can I discern that it has made the
+trouble of your life, and cast a cloud upon mine, that will help to
+cover me in my grave? Can I know that it wrought so upon us both as to
+make neither of us friends to one another, but agree in running wildly
+to our own destruction, and that perhaps of some innocent persons who
+might live to curse our folly that gave them so miserable a being? Ah!
+if you love yourself or me, you must confess that I have reason to
+condemn this senseless passion; that wheresoe'er it comes destroys all
+that entertain it; nothing of judgment or discretion can live with it,
+and it puts everything else out of order before it can find a place for
+itself. What has it brought my poor Lady Anne Blunt to? She is the talk
+of all the footmen and boys in the street, and will be company for them
+shortly, and yet is so blinded by her passion as not at all to perceive
+the misery she has brought herself to; and this fond love of hers has so
+rooted all sense of nature out of her heart, that, they say, she is no
+more moved than a statue with the affliction of a father and mother that
+doted on her, and had placed the comfort of their lives in her
+preferment. With all this is it not manifest to the whole world that Mr.
+Blunt could not consider anything in this action but his own interest,
+and that he makes her a very ill return for all her kindness; if he had
+loved her truly he would have died rather than have been the occasion of
+this misfortune to her. My cousin Franklin (as you observe very well)
+may say fine things now she is warm in Moor Park, but she is very much
+altered in her opinions since her marriage, if these be her own. She
+left a gentleman, that I could name, whom she had much more of kindness
+for than ever she had for Mr. Franklin, because his estate was less; and
+upon the discovery of some letters that her mother intercepted, suffered
+herself to be persuaded that twenty-three hundred pound a year was
+better than twelve hundred, though with a person she loved; and has
+recovered it so well, that you see she confesses there is nothing in her
+condition she desires to alter at the charge of a wish. She's happier by
+much than I shall ever be, but I do not envy her; may she long enjoy it,
+and I an early and a quiet grave, free from the trouble of this busy
+world, where all with passion pursue their own interests at their
+neighbour's charges; where nobody is pleased but somebody complains
+on't; and where 'tis impossible to be without giving and receiving
+injuries.
+
+You would know what I would be at, and how I intend to dispose of
+myself. Alas! were I in my own disposal, you should come to my grave to
+be resolved; but grief alone will not kill. All that I can say, then, is
+that I resolve on nothing but to arm myself with patience, to resist
+nothing that is laid upon me, nor struggle for what I have no hope to
+get. I have no ends nor no designs, nor will my heart ever be capable of
+any; but like a country wasted by a civil war, where two opposing
+parties have disputed their right so long till they have made it worth
+neither of their conquests, 'tis ruined and desolated by the long strife
+within it to that degree as 'twill be useful to none,--nobody that knows
+the condition 'tis in will think it worth the gaining, and I shall not
+trouble anybody with it. No, really, if I may be permitted to desire
+anything, it shall be only that I may injure nobody but myself,--I can
+bear anything that reflects only upon me; or, if I cannot, I can die;
+but I would fain die innocent, that I might hope to be happy in the next
+world, though never in this. I take it a little ill that you should
+conjure me by anything, with a belief that 'tis more powerful with me
+than your kindness. No, assure yourself what that alone cannot gain will
+be denied to all the world. You would see me, you say? You may do so if
+you please, though I know not to what end. You deceive yourself if you
+think it would prevail upon me to alter my intentions; besides, I can
+make no contrivances; it must be here, and I must endure the noise it
+will make, and undergo the censures of a people that choose ever to give
+the worst interpretation that anything will bear. Yet if it can be any
+ease to you to make me more miserable than I am, never spare me;
+consider yourself only, and not me at all,--'tis no more than I deserve
+for not accepting what you offered me whilst 'twas in your power to make
+it good, as you say it then was. You were prepared, it seems, but I was
+surprised, I confess. 'Twas a kind fault though; and you may pardon it
+with more reason than I have to forgive it myself. And let me tell you
+this, too, as lost and as wretched as I am, I have still some sense of
+my reputation left in me,--I find that to my cost,--I shall attempt to
+preserve it as clear as I can; and to do that, I must, if you see me
+thus, make it the last of our interviews. What can excuse me if I should
+entertain any person that is known to pretend to me, when I can have no
+hope of ever marrying him? And what hope can I have of that when the
+fortune that can only make it possible to me depends upon a thousand
+accidents and contingencies, the uncertainty of the place 'tis in, and
+the government it may fall under, your father's life or his success, his
+disposal of himself and of his fortune, besides the time that must
+necessarily be required to produce all this, and the changes that may
+probably bring with it, which 'tis impossible for us to foresee? All
+this considered, what have I to say for myself when people shall ask,
+what 'tis I expect? Can there be anything vainer than such a hope upon
+such grounds? You must needs see the folly on't yourself, and therefore
+examine your own heart what 'tis fit for me to do, and what you can do
+for a person you love, and that deserves your compassion if nothing
+else,--a person that will always have an inviolable friendship for you,
+a friendship that shall take up all the room my passion held in my
+heart, and govern there as master, till death come and take possession
+and turn it out.
+
+Why should you make an impossibility where there is none? A thousand
+accidents might have taken me from you, and you must have borne it. Why
+would not your own resolution work as much upon you as necessity and
+time does infallibly upon people? Your father would take it very ill, I
+believe, if you should pretend to love me better than he did my Lady,
+yet she is dead and he lives, and perhaps may do to love again. There is
+a gentlewoman in this country that loved so passionately for six or
+seven years that her friends, who kept her from marrying, fearing her
+death, consented to it; and within half a year her husband died, which
+afflicted her so strongly nobody thought she would have lived. She saw
+no light but candles in three years, nor came abroad in five; and now
+that 'tis some nine years past, she is passionately taken again with
+another, and how long she has been so nobody knows but herself. This is
+to let you see 'tis not impossible what I ask, nor unreasonable. Think
+on't, and attempt it at least; but do it sincerely, and do not help your
+passion to master you. As you have ever loved me do this.
+
+The carrier shall bring your letters to Suffolk House to Jones. I shall
+long to hear from you; but if you should deny the only hope that's left
+me, I must beg you will defer it till Christmas Day be past; for, to
+deal freely with you, I have some devotions to perform then, which must
+not be disturbed with anything, and nothing is like to do it as so
+sensible an affliction. Adieu.
+
+
+_Letter 43._
+
+
+SIR,--I can say little more than I did,--I am convinced of the vileness
+of the world and all that's in it, and that I deceived myself extremely
+when I expected anything of comfort from it. No, I have no more to do
+in't but to grow every day more and more weary of it, if it be possible
+that I have not yet reached the highest degree of hatred for it. But I
+thank God I hate nothing else but the base world, and the vices that
+make a part of it. I am in perfect charity with my enemies, and have
+compassion for all people's misfortunes as well as for my own,
+especially for those I may have caused; and I may truly say I bear my
+share of such. But as nothing obliges me to relieve a person that is in
+extreme want till I change conditions with him and come to be where he
+began, and that I may be thought compassionate if I do all that I can
+without prejudicing myself too much, so let me tell you, that if I could
+help it, I would not love you, and that as long as I live I shall strive
+against it as against that which had been my ruin, and was certainly
+sent me as a punishment for my sin. But I shall always have a sense of
+your misfortunes, equal, if not above, my own. I shall pray that you may
+obtain a quiet I never hope for but in my grave, and I shall never
+change my condition but with my life. Yet let not this give you a hope.
+Nothing ever can persuade me to enter the world again. I shall, in a
+short time, have disengaged myself of all my little affairs in it, and
+settled myself in a condition to apprehend nothing but too long a life,
+therefore I wish you would forget me; and to induce you to it, let me
+tell you freely that I deserve you should. If I remember anybody, 'tis
+against my will. I am possessed with that strange insensibility that my
+nearest relations have no tie upon me, and I find myself no more
+concerned in those that I have heretofore had great tenderness of
+affection for, than in my kindred that died long before I was born.
+Leave me to this, and seek a better fortune. I beg it of you as heartily
+as I forgive you all those strange thoughts you have had of me. Think me
+so still if that will do anything towards it. For God's sake do take any
+course that may make you happy; or, if that cannot be, less unfortunate
+at least than
+
+Your friend and humble servant,
+
+D. OSBORNE.
+
+I can hear nothing of that letter, but I hear from all people that I
+know, part of my unhappy story, and from some that I do not know. A
+lady, whose face I never saw, sent it me as news she had out of Ireland.
+
+
+_Letter 44._
+
+
+SIR,--If you have ever loved me, do not refuse the last request I shall
+ever make you; 'tis to preserve yourself from the violence of your
+passion. Vent it all upon me; call me and think me what you please; make
+me, if it be possible, more wretched than I am. I'll bear it all without
+the least murmur. Nay, I deserve it all, for had you never seen me you
+had certainly been happy. 'Tis my misfortunes only that have that
+infectious quality as to strike at the same time me and all that's dear
+to me. I am the most unfortunate woman breathing, but I was never false.
+No; I call heaven to witness that if my life could satisfy for the least
+injury my fortune has done you (I cannot say 'twas I that did them you),
+I would lay it down with greater joy than any person ever received a
+crown; and if I ever forget what I owe you, or ever entertained a
+thought of kindness for any person in the world besides, may I live a
+long and miserable life. 'Tis the greatest curse I can invent; if there
+be a greater, may I feel it. This is all I can say. Tell me if it be
+possible I can do anything for you, and tell me how I may deserve your
+pardon for all the trouble I have given you. I would not die without it.
+
+[Directed.] For Mr. Temple.
+
+
+_Letter 45._
+
+
+SIR,--'Tis most true what you say, that few have what they merit; if it
+were otherwise, you would be happy, I think, but then I should be so
+too, and that must not be,--a false and an inconstant person cannot
+merit it, I am sure. You are kind in your good wishes, but I aim at no
+friends nor no princes, the honour would be lost upon me; I should
+become a crown so ill, there would be no striving for it after me, and,
+sure, I should not wear it long. Your letter was a much greater loss to
+me than that of Henry Cromwell, and, therefore, 'tis that with all my
+care and diligence I cannot inquire it out. You will not complain, I
+believe, of the shortness of my last, whatever else you dislike in it,
+and if I spare you at any time 'tis because I cannot but imagine, since
+I am so wearisome to myself, that I must needs be so to everybody else,
+though, at present, I have other occasions that will not permit this to
+be a long one. I am sorry it should be only in my power to make a friend
+miserable, and that where I have so great a kindness I should do so
+great injuries; but 'tis my fortune, and I must bear it; 'twill be none
+to you, I hope, to pray for you, nor to desire that you would (all
+passion laid aside) freely tell me my faults, that I may, at least, ask
+your forgiveness where 'tis not in my power to make you better
+satisfaction. I would fain make even with all the world, and be out of
+danger of dying in anybody's debt; then I have nothing more to do in it
+but to expect when I shall be so happy as to leave it, and always to
+remember that my misfortune makes all my faults towards you, and that my
+faults to God make all my misfortunes.
+
+Your unhappy.
+
+
+_Letter 46._
+
+
+SIR,--That which I writ by your boy was in so much haste and distraction
+as I cannot be satisfied with it, nor believe it has expressed my
+thoughts as I meant them. No, I find it is not easily done at more
+leisure, and I am yet to seek what to say that is not too little nor too
+much. I would fain let you see that I am extremely sensible of your
+affliction, that I would lay down my life to redeem you from it, but
+that's a mean expression; my life is of so little value that I will not
+mention it. No, let it be rather what, in earnest, if I can tell
+anything I have left that is considerable enough to expose for it, it
+must be that small reputation I have amongst my friends, that's all my
+wealth, and that I could part with to restore you to that quiet you
+lived in when I first knew you. But, on the other side, I would not give
+you hopes of that I cannot do. If I loved you less I would allow you to
+be the same person to me, and I would be the same to you as heretofore.
+But to deal freely with you, that were to betray myself, and I find that
+my passion would quickly be my master again if I gave it any liberty. I
+am not secure that it would not make me do the most extravagant things
+in the world, and I shall be forced to keep a continual war alive with
+it as long as there are any remainders of it left;--I think I might as
+well have said as long as I lived. Why should you give yourself over so
+unreasonably to it? Good God! no woman breathing can deserve half the
+trouble you give yourself. If I were yours from this minute I could not
+recompense what you have suffered from the violence of your passion,
+though I were all that you can imagine me, when, God knows, I am an
+inconsiderable person, born to a thousand misfortunes, which have taken
+away all sense of anything else from me, and left me a walking misery
+only. I do from my soul forgive you all the injuries your passion has
+done me, though, let me tell you, I was much more at my ease whilst I
+was angry. Scorn and despite would have cured me in some reasonable
+time, which I despair of now. However, I am not displeased with it, and,
+if it may be of any advantage to you, I shall not consider myself in it;
+but let me beg, then, that you will leave off those dismal thoughts. I
+tremble at the desperate things you say in your letter; for the love of
+God, consider seriously with yourself what can enter into comparison
+with the safety of your soul. Are a thousand women, or ten thousand
+worlds, worth it? No, you cannot have so little reason left as you
+pretend, nor so little religion. For God's sake let us not neglect what
+can only make us happy for trifles. If God had seen it fit to have
+satisfied our desires we should have had them, and everything would not
+have conspired thus to have crossed them. Since He has decreed it
+otherwise (at least as far as we are able to judge by events), we must
+submit, and not by striving make an innocent passion a sin, and show a
+childish stubbornness.
+
+I could say a thousand things more to this purpose if I were not in
+haste to send this away,--that it may come to you, at least, as soon as
+the other. Adieu.
+
+I cannot imagine who this should be that Mr. Dr. meant, and am inclined
+to believe 'twas a story meant to disturb you, though perhaps not by
+him.
+
+
+_Letter 47._
+
+
+SIR,--'Tis never my humour to do injuries, nor was this meant as any to
+you. No, in earnest, if I could have persuaded you to have quitted a
+passion that injures you, I had done an act of real friendship, and you
+might have lived to thank me for it; but since it cannot be, I will
+attempt it no more. I have laid before you the inconveniences it brings
+along, how certain the trouble is, and how uncertain the reward; how
+many accidents may hinder us from ever being happy, and how few there
+are (and those so unlikely) to make up our desire. All this makes no
+impression on you; you are still resolved to follow your blind guide,
+and I to pity where I cannot help. It will not be amiss though to let
+you see that what I did was merely in consideration of your interest,
+and not at all of my own, that you may judge of me accordingly; and, to
+do that, I must tell you that, unless it were after the receipt of those
+letters that made me angry, I never had the least hope of wearing out my
+passion, nor, to say truth, much desire. For to what purpose should I
+have strived against it? 'Twas innocent enough in me that resolved never
+to marry, and would have kept me company in this solitary place as long
+as I lived, without being a trouble to myself or anybody else. Nay, in
+earnest, if I could have hoped you would be so much your own friend as
+to seek out a happiness in some other person, nothing under heaven could
+have satisfied me like entertaining myself with the thought of having
+done you service in diverting you from a troublesome pursuit of what is
+so uncertain, and by that giving you the occasion of a better fortune.
+Otherwise, whether you loved me still, or whether you did not, was
+equally the same to me, your interest set aside. I will not reproach you
+how ill an interpretation you made of this, because we will have no more
+quarrels. On the contrary, because I see 'tis in vain to think of curing
+you, I'll study only to give you what ease I can, and leave the rest to
+better physicians,--to time and fortune. Here, then, I declare that you
+have still the same power in my heart that I gave you at our last
+parting; that I will never marry any other; and that if ever our
+fortunes will allow us to marry, you shall dispose of me as you please;
+but this, to deal freely with you, I do not hope for. No; 'tis too great
+a happiness, and I, that know myself best, must acknowledge I deserve
+crosses and afflictions, but can never merit such a blessing. You know
+'tis not a fear of want that frights me. I thank God I never distrusted
+His providence, nor I hope never shall, and without attributing anything
+to myself, I may acknowledge He has given me a mind that can be
+satisfied with as narrow a compass as that of any person living of my
+rank. But I confess that I have an humour will not suffer me to expose
+myself to people's scorn. The name of love is grown so contemptible by
+the folly of such as have falsely pretended to it, and so many giddy
+people have married upon that score and repented so shamefully
+afterwards, that nobody can do anything that tends towards it without
+being esteemed a ridiculous person. Now, as my young Lady Holland says,
+I never pretended to wit in my life, but I cannot be satisfied that the
+world should think me a fool, so that all I can do for you will be to
+preserve a constant kindness for you, which nothing shall ever alter or
+diminish; I'll never give you any more alarms, by going about to
+persuade you against that you have for me; but from this hour we'll live
+quietly, no more fears, no more jealousies; the wealth of the whole
+world, by the grace of God, shall not tempt me to break my word with
+you, nor the importunity of all my friends I have. Keep this as a
+testimony against me if ever I do, and make me a reproach to them by it;
+therefore be secure, and rest satisfied with what I can do for you.
+
+You should come hither but that I expect my brother every day; not but
+that he designed a longer stay when he went, but since he keeps his
+horses with him 'tis an infallible token that he is coming. We cannot
+miss fitter times than this twenty in a year, and I shall be as ready to
+give you notice of such as you can be to desire it, only you would do me
+a great pleasure if you could forbear writing, unless it were sometimes
+on great occasions. This is a strange request for me to make, that have
+been fonder of your letters than my Lady Protector is of her new honour,
+and, in earnest, would be so still but there are a thousand
+inconveniences in't that I could tell you. Tell me what you can do; in
+the meantime think of some employment for yourself this summer. Who
+knows what a year may produce? If nothing, we are but where we were, and
+nothing can hinder us from being, at least, perfect friends. Adieu.
+There's nothing so terrible in my other letter but you may venture to
+read it. Have not you forgot my Lady's book?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE LAST OF CHICKSANDS. FEBRUARY AND MARCH 1654
+
+
+The quarrel is over, happily over, and Dorothy and Temple are more than
+reconciled again. Temple has been down to Chicksands to see her, and
+some more definite arrangement has been come to between them. Dorothy
+has urged Temple to go to Ireland and join his father, who has once
+again taken possession of his office of Master of the Rolls. As soon as
+an appointment can be found for Temple they are to be married--that is,
+as far as one can gather, the state of affairs between them; but it
+would seem as if nothing of this was as yet to be known to the outer
+world, not even to Dorothy's brother.
+
+
+_Letter 48._
+
+
+SIR,--'Tis but an hour since you went, and I am writing to you already;
+is not this kind? How do you after your journey; are you not weary; do
+you not repent that you took it to so little purpose? Well, God forgive
+me, and you too, you made me tell a great lie. I was fain to say you
+came only to take your leave before you went abroad; and all this not
+only to keep quiet, but to keep him from playing the madman; for when he
+has the least suspicion, he carries it so strangely that all the world
+takes notice on't, and so often guess at the reason, or else he tells
+it. Now, do but you judge whether if by mischance he should discover the
+truth, whether he would not rail most sweetly at me (and with some
+reason) for abusing him. Yet you helped to do it; a sadness that he
+discovered at your going away inclined him to believe you were ill
+satisfied, and made him credit what I said. He is kind now in extremity,
+and I would be glad to keep him so till a discovery is absolutely
+necessary. Your going abroad will confirm him much in his belief, and I
+shall have nothing to torment me in this place but my own doubts and
+fears. Here I shall find all the repose I am capable of, and nothing
+will disturb my prayers and wishes for your happiness which only can
+make mine. Your journey cannot be to your disadvantage neither; you must
+needs be pleased to visit a place you are so much concerned in, and to
+be a witness yourself of your hopes, though I will believe you need no
+other inducements to this voyage than my desiring it. I know you love
+me, and you have no reason to doubt my kindness. Let us both have
+patience to wait what time and fortune will do for us; they cannot
+hinder our being perfect friends.
+
+Lord, there were a thousand things I remembered after you were gone that
+I should have said, and now I am to write not one of them will come into
+my head. Sure as I live it is not settled yet! Good God! the fears and
+surprises, the crosses and disorders of that day, 'twas confused enough
+to be a dream, and I am apt to think sometimes it was no more. But no, I
+saw you; when I shall do it again, God only knows! Can there be a
+romancer story than ours would make if the conclusion prove happy? Ah! I
+dare not hope it; something that I cannot describe draws a cloud over
+all the light my fancy discovers sometimes, and leaves me so in the dark
+with all my fears about me that I tremble to think on't. But no more of
+this sad talk.
+
+Who was that, Mr. Dr. told you I should marry? I cannot imagine for my
+life; tell me, or I shall think you made it to excuse yourself. Did not
+you say once you knew where good French tweezers were to be had? Pray
+send me a pair; they shall cut no love. Before you go I must have a ring
+from you, too, a plain gold one; if I ever marry it shall be my wedding
+ring; when I die I'll give it you again. What a dismal story this is you
+sent me; but who could expect better from a love begun upon such
+grounds? I cannot pity neither of them, they were both so guilty. Yes,
+they are the more to be pitied for that.
+
+Here is a note comes to me just now, will you do this service for a fine
+lady that is my friend; have not I taught her well, she writes better
+than her mistress? How merry and pleased she is with her marrying
+because there is a plentiful fortune; otherwise she would not value the
+man at all. This is the world; would you and I were out of it: for,
+sure, we were not made to live in it. Do you remember Arme and the
+little house there? Shall we go thither? that's next to being out of the
+world. There we might live like Baucis and Philemon, grow old together
+in our little cottage, and for our charity to some shipwrecked strangers
+obtain the blessing of dying both at the same time. How idly I talk;
+'tis because the story pleases me--none in Ovid so much. I remember I
+cried when I read it. Methought they were the perfectest characters of a
+contented marriage, where piety and love were all their wealth, and in
+their poverty feasted the gods when rich men shut them out. I am called
+away,--farewell!
+
+Your faithful.
+
+
+_Letter 49._--The beginning of this letter is lost, and with it,
+perhaps, the name of Dorothy's lover who had written some verses on her
+beauty. However, we have the "tag" of them, with which we must rest
+content.
+
+... 'Tis pity I cannot show you what his wit could do upon so ill a
+subject, but my Lady Ruthin keeps them to abuse me withal, and has put a
+tune to them that I may hear them all manner of ways; and yet I do
+protest I remember nothing more of them than this lame piece,--
+
+          A stately and majestic brow,
+          Of force to make Protectors bow.
+
+Indeed, if I have any stately looks I think he has seen them, but yet it
+seems they could not keep him from playing the fool. My Lady Grey told
+me that one day talking of me to her (as he would find ways to bring in
+that discourse by the head and shoulders, whatsoever anybody else could
+interpose), he said he wondered I did not marry. She (that understood
+him well enough, but would not seem to do so) said she knew not, unless
+it were that I liked my present condition so well that I did not care to
+change it; which she was apt to believe, because to her knowledge I had
+refused very good fortunes, and named some so far beyond his reach, that
+she thought she had dashed all his hopes. But he, confident still, said
+'twas perhaps that I had no fancy to their persons (as if his own were
+so taking), that I was to be looked upon as one that had it in my power
+to please myself, and that perhaps in a person I liked would bate
+something of fortune. To this my Lady answered again for me, that 'twas
+not impossible but I might do so, but in that point she thought me nice
+and curious enough. And still to dishearten him the more, she took
+occasion (upon his naming some gentlemen of the county that had been
+talked of heretofore as of my servants, and are since disposed of) to
+say (very plainly) that 'twas true they had some of them pretended, but
+there was an end of my Bedfordshire servants she was sure there were no
+more that could be admitted into the number. After all this (which would
+have satisfied an ordinary young man) did I this last Thursday receive a
+letter from him by Collins, which he sent first to London that it might
+come thence to me. I threw it into the fire; and do you but keep my
+counsel, nobody shall ever know that I had it; and my gentleman shall be
+kept at such a distance as I hope to hear no more of him. Yet I'll swear
+of late I have used him so near to rudely that there is little left for
+me to do. Fye! what a deal of paper I have spent upon this idle fellow;
+if I had thought his story would have proved so long you should have
+missed on't, and the loss would not have been great.
+
+I have not thanked you yet for my tweezers and essences; they are both
+very good. I kept one of the little glasses myself; remember my ring,
+and in return, if I go to London whilst you are in Ireland, I'll have my
+picture taken in little and send it you. The sooner you despatch away
+will be the better, I think, since I have no hopes of seeing you before
+you go; there lies all your business, your father and fortune must do
+all the rest. I cannot be more yours than I am. You are mistaken if you
+think I stand in awe of my brother. No, I fear nobody's anger. I am
+proof against all violence; but when people haunt me with reasoning and
+entreaties, when they look sadly and pretend kindness, when they beg
+upon that score, 'tis a strange pain to me to deny. When he rants and
+renounces me, I can despise him; but when he asks my pardon, with tears
+pleads to me the long and constant friendship between us, and calls
+heaven to witness that nothing upon earth is dear to him in comparison
+of me, then, I confess, I feel a stronger unquietness within me, and I
+would do anything to evade his importunity. Nothing is so great a
+violence to me as that which moves my compassion. I can resist with ease
+any sort of people but beggars. If this be a fault in me, 'tis at least
+a well-natured one; and therefore I hope you will forgive it me, you
+that can forgive me anything, you say, and be displeased with nothing
+whilst I love you; may I never be pleased with anything when I do not.
+Yet I could beat you for writing this last strange letter; was there
+ever anything said like? If I had but a vanity that the world should
+admire me, I would not care what they talked of me. In earnest, I
+believe there is nobody displeased that people speak well of them, and
+reputation is esteemed by all of much greater value than life itself.
+Yet let me tell you soberly, that with all my vanity I could be very
+well contented nobody should blame me or any action of mine, to quit all
+my part of the praises and admiration of the world; and if I might be
+allowed to choose, my happiest part of it should consist in concealment,
+there should not be above two persons in the world know that there was
+such a one in it as your faithful.
+
+Stay! I have not done yet. Here's another good side, I find; here, then,
+I'll tell you that I am not angry for all this. No, I allow it to your
+ill-humour, and that to the crosses that have been common to us; but now
+that is cleared up, I should expect you should say finer things to me.
+Yet take heed of being like my neighbour's servant, he is so transported
+to find no rubs in his way that he knows not whether he stands on his
+head or his feet. 'Tis the most troublesome, busy talking little thing
+that ever was born; his tongue goes like the clack of a mill, but to
+much less purpose, though if it were all oracle, my head would ache to
+hear that perpetual noise. I admire at her patience and her resolution
+that can laugh at his fooleries and love his fortune. You would wonder
+to see how tired she is with his impertinences, and yet how pleased to
+think she shall have a great estate with him. But this is the world, and
+she makes a part of it betimes. Two or three great glistening jewels
+have bribed her to wink at all his faults, and she hears him as unmoved
+and unconcerned as if another were to marry him.
+
+What think you, have I not done fair for once, would you wish a longer
+letter? See how kind I grow at parting; who would not go into Ireland to
+have such another? In earnest now, go as soon as you can, 'twill be the
+better, I think, who am your faithful friend.
+
+
+_Letter 50._--Wrest, in Bedfordshire, where Dorothy met her importunate
+lover, was the seat of Anthony Grey, Earl of Kent. There is said to be a
+picture there of Sir William Temple,--a copy of Lely's picture. Wrest
+Park is only a few miles from Chicksands.
+
+
+SIR,--Who would be kind to one that reproaches one so cruelly? Do you
+think, in earnest, I could be satisfied the world should think me a
+dissembler, full of avarice or ambition? No, you are mistaken; but I'll
+tell you what I could suffer, that they should say I married where I had
+no inclination, because my friends thought it fit, rather than that I
+had run wilfully to my own ruin in pursuit of a fond passion of my own.
+To marry for love were no reproachful thing if we did not see that of
+the thousand couples that do it, hardly one can be brought for an
+example that it may be done and not repented afterwards. Is there
+anything thought so indiscreet, or that makes one more contemptible?
+'Tis true that I do firmly believe we should be, as you say, _toujours
+les mesmes_; but if (as you confess) 'tis that which hardly happens once
+in two ages, we are not to expect the world should discern we were not
+like the rest. I'll tell you stories another time, you return them so
+handsomely upon me. Well, the next servant I tell you of shall not be
+called a whelp, if 'twere not to give you a stick to beat myself with. I
+would confess that I looked upon the impudence of this fellow as a
+punishment upon me for my over care in avoiding the talk of the world;
+yet the case is very different, and no woman shall ever be blamed that
+an inconsolable person pretends to her when she gives no allowance to
+it, whereas none shall 'scape that owns a passion, though in return of a
+person much above her. The little tailor that loved Queen Elizabeth was
+suffered to talk out, and none of her Council thought it necessary to
+stop his mouth; but the Queen of Sweden's kind letter to the King of
+Scots was intercepted by her own ambassador, because he thought it was
+not for his mistress's honour (at least that was his pretended reason),
+and thought justifiable enough. But to come to my Beagle again. I have
+heard no more of him, though I have seen him since; we met at Wrest
+again. I do not doubt but I shall be better able to resist his
+importunity than his tutor was; but what do you think it is that gives
+him his encouragement? He was told I had thought of marrying a gentleman
+that had not above two hundred pound a year, only out of my liking to
+his person. And upon that score his vanity allows him to think he may
+pretend as far as another. Thus you see 'tis not altogether without
+reason that I apprehend the noise of the world, since 'tis so much to my
+disadvantage.
+
+Is it in earnest that you say your being there keeps me from the town?
+If so, 'tis very unkind. No, if I had gone, it had been to have waited
+on my neighbour, who has now altered her resolution and goes not
+herself. I have no business there, and am so little taken with the place
+that I could sit here seven years without so much as thinking once of
+going to it. 'Tis not likely, as you say, that you should much persuade
+your father to what you do not desire he should do; but it is hard if
+all the testimonies of my kindness are not enough to satisfy without my
+publishing to the world that I can forget my friends and all my interest
+to follow my passion; though, perhaps, it will admit of a good sense,
+'tis that which nobody but you or I will give it, and we that are
+concerned in't can only say 'twas an act of great kindness and something
+romance, but must confess it had nothing of prudence, discretion, nor
+sober counsel in't. 'Tis not that I expect, by all your father's offers,
+to bring my friends to approve it. I don't deceive myself thus far, but
+I would not give them occasion to say that I hid myself from them in the
+doing it; nor of making my action appear more indiscreet than it is. It
+will concern me that all the world should know what fortune you have,
+and upon what terms I marry you, that both may not be made to appear ten
+times worse than they are. 'Tis the general custom of all people to make
+those that are rich to have more mines of gold than are in the Indies,
+and such as have small fortunes to be beggars. If an action take a
+little in the world, it shall be magnified and brought into comparison
+with what the heroes or senators of Rome performed; but, on the
+contrary, if it be once condemned, nothing can be found ill enough to
+compare it with; and people are in pain till they find out some
+extravagant expression to represent the folly on't. Only there is this
+difference, that as all are more forcibly inclined to ill than good,
+they are much apter to exceed in detraction than in praises. Have I not
+reason then to desire this from you; and may not my friendship have
+deserved it? I know not; 'tis as you think; but if I be denied it, you
+will teach me to consider myself. 'Tis well the side ended here. If I
+had not had occasion to stop there, I might have gone too far, and
+showed that I had more passions than one. Yet 'tis fit you should know
+all my faults, lest you should repent your bargain when 'twill not be in
+your power to release yourself; besides, I may own my ill-humour to you
+that cause it; 'tis the discontent my crosses in this business have
+given me makes me thus peevish. Though I say it myself, before I knew
+you I was thought as well an humoured young person as most in England;
+nothing displeased, nothing troubled me. When I came out of France,
+nobody knew me again. I was so altered, from a cheerful humour that was
+always alike, never over merry but always pleased, I was grown heavy and
+sullen, froward and discomposed; and that country which usually gives
+people a jolliness and gaiety that is natural to the climate, had
+wrought in me so contrary effects that I was as new a thing to them as
+my clothes. If you find all this to be sad truth hereafter, remember
+that I gave you fair warning.
+
+Here is a ring: it must not be at all wider than this, which is rather
+too big for me than otherwise; but that is a good fault, and counted
+lucky by superstitious people. I am not so, though: 'tis indifferent
+whether there be any word in't or not; only 'tis as well without, and
+will make my wearing it the less observed. You must give Nan leave to
+cut a lock of your hair for me, too. Oh, my heart! what a sigh was
+there! I will not tell you how many this journey causes; nor the fear
+and apprehensions I have for you. No, I long to be rid of you, am afraid
+you will not go soon enough: do not you believe this? No, my dearest, I
+know you do not, whate'er you say, you cannot doubt that I am yours.
+
+
+_Letter 51._--Lady Newport was the wife of the Earl of Newport, and
+mother of Lady Anne Blunt of whom we heard something in former letters.
+She is mentioned as a prominent leader of London society. In March 1652
+she is granted a pass to leave the country, on condition that she gives
+security to do nothing prejudicial to the State; from which we may draw
+the inference that she was a political notability.
+
+My Lady Devonshire was Christian, daughter of Lord Bruce of Kinloss. She
+married William Cavendish, second Earl of Devonshire. Her daughter Anne
+married Lord Rich, and died suddenly in 1638. Pomfret, Godolphin, and
+Falkland celebrated her virtues in verse, and Waller wrote her funeral
+hymn, which is still known to some of us,--
+
+                                 The Lady Rich is dead.
+          Heartrending news! and dreadful to those few
+          Who her resemble and her steps pursue,
+          That Death should license have to range among
+          The fair, the wise, the virtuous, and the young.
+
+It was the only son of Lady Rich who married Frances Cromwell.
+
+Lord Warwick was the father of Robert, Lord Rich, and we may gather from
+this letter that, at Lady Devonshire's instigation, he had interfered in
+a proposed second marriage between his son and some fair unknown.
+
+_Parthenissa_ is only just out. It is the latest thing in literary
+circles. We find it advertised in _Mercurius Politicus_, 19th January
+1654:--"_Parthenissa_, that most famous romance, composed by the Lord
+Broghill, and dedicated to the Lady Northumberland." It is a romance of
+the style of _Cleopatre_ and _Cyrus_, to enjoy which in the nineteenth
+century would require a curious and acquired taste. _L'illustre Bassa_
+was a romance of Scuderi; and the passage in the epistle to which
+Dorothy refers,--we quote it from a translation by one Henry Cogan,
+1652,--runs as follows: "And if you see not my hero persecuted with love
+by women, it is not because he was not amiable, and that he could not be
+loved, but because it would clash with civility in the persons of
+ladies, and with true resemblance in that of men, who rarely show
+themselves cruel unto them, nor in doing it could have any good grace."
+
+
+SIR,--The lady was in the right. You are a very pretty gentleman and a
+modest; were there ever such stories as these you tell? The best on't
+is, I believe none of them unless it be that of my Lady Newport, which I
+must confess is so like her that if it be not true 'twas at least
+excellently well fancied. But my Lord Rich was not caught, tho' he was
+near it. My Lady Devonshire, whose daughter his first wife was, has
+engaged my Lord Warwick to put a stop to the business. Otherwise, I
+think his present want of fortune, and the little sense of honour he
+has, might have been prevailed on to marry her.
+
+'Tis strange to see the folly that possesses the young people of this
+age, and the liberty they take to themselves. I have the charity to
+believe they appear very much worse than they are, and that the want of
+a Court to govern themselves by is in great part the cause of their
+ruin; though that was no perfect school of virtue, yet Vice there wore
+her mask, and appeared so unlike herself that she gave no scandal. Such
+as were really discreet as they seemed to be gave good example, and the
+eminency of their condition made others strive to imitate them, or at
+least they durst not own a contrary course. All who had good principles
+and inclinations were encouraged in them, and such as had neither were
+forced to put on a handsome disguise that they might not be out of
+countenance at themselves. 'Tis certain (what you say) that where divine
+or human laws are not positive we may be our own judges; nobody can
+hinder us, nor is it in itself to be blamed. But, sure, it is not safe
+to take all liberty that is allowed us,--there are not many that are
+sober enough to be trusted with the government of themselves; and
+because others judge us with more severity than our indulgence to
+ourselves will permit, it must necessarily follow that 'tis safer being
+ruled by their opinions than by our own. I am disputing again, though
+you told me my fault so plainly.
+
+I'll give it over, and tell you that _Parthenissa_ is now my company. My
+brother sent it down, and I have almost read it. 'Tis handsome language;
+you would know it to be writ by a person of good quality though you were
+not told it; but, on the whole, I am not very much taken with it. All
+the stories have too near a resemblance with those of other romances,
+there is nothing new or _surprenant_ in them; the ladies are all so kind
+they make no sport, and I meet only with one that took me by doing a
+handsome thing of the kind. She was in a besieged town, and persuaded
+all those of her sex to go out with her to the enemy (which were a
+barbarous people) and die by their swords, that the provisions of the
+town might last the longer for such as were able to do service in
+defending it. But how angry was I to see him spoil this again by
+bringing out a letter this woman left behind her for the governor of the
+town, where she discovers a passion for him, and makes _that_ the reason
+why she did it. I confess I have no patience for our _faiseurs de
+Romance_ when they make a woman court. It will never enter into my head
+that 'tis possible any woman can love where she is not first loved, and
+much less that if they should do that, they could have the face to own
+it. Methinks he that writes _L'illustre Bassa_ says well in his epistle
+that we are not to imagine his hero to be less taking than those of
+other romances because the ladies do not fall in love with him whether
+he will or not. 'Twould be an injury to the ladies to suppose they could
+do so, and a greater to his hero's civility if he should put him upon
+being cruel to them, since he was to love but one. Another fault I find,
+too, in the style--'tis affected. _Ambitioned_ is a great word with him,
+and _ignore_; _my concern_, or of _great concern_, is, it seems, properer
+than _concernment_: and though he makes his people say fine handsome
+things to one another, yet they are not easy and _naive_ like the
+French, and there is a little harshness in most of the discourse that
+one would take to be the fault of a translator rather than of an author.
+But perhaps I like it the worse for having a piece of _Cyrus_ by me that
+I am hugely pleased with, and that I would fain have you read: I'll send
+it you. At least read one story that I'll mark you down, if you have
+time for no more. I am glad you stay to wait on your sister. I would
+have my gallant civil to all, much more when it is so due, and kindness
+too.
+
+I have the cabinet, and 'tis in earnest a pretty one; though you will
+not own it for a present, I'll keep it as one, and 'tis like to be yours
+no more but as 'tis mine. I'll warrant you would ne'er have thought of
+making me a present of charcoal as my servant James would have done, to
+warm my heart I think he meant it. But the truth is, I had been
+inquiring for some (as 'tis a commodity scarce enough in this country),
+and he hearing it, told the baily [bailiff?] he would give him some if
+'twere for me. But this is not all. I cannot forbear telling you the
+other day he made me a visit, and I, to prevent his making discourse to
+me, made Mrs. Goldsmith and Jane sit by all the while. But he came
+better provided than I could have imagined. He brought a letter with
+him, and gave it me as one he had met with directed to me, he thought it
+came out of Northamptonshire. I was upon my guard, and suspecting all he
+said, examined him so strictly where he had it before I would open it,
+that he was hugely confounded, and I confirmed that 'twas his. I laid it
+by and wished that they would have left us, that I might have taken
+notice on't to him. But I had forbid it them so strictly before, that
+they offered not to stir farther than to look out of window, as not
+thinking there was any necessity of giving us their eyes as well as
+their ears; but he that saw himself discovered took that time to confess
+to me (in a whispering voice that I could hardly hear myself) that the
+letter (as my Lord Broghill says) was of _great concern_ to him, and
+begged I would read it, and give him my answer. I took it up presently,
+as if I had meant it, but threw it, sealed as it was, into the fire, and
+told him (as softly as he had spoke to me) I thought that the quickest
+and best way of answering it. He sat awhile in great disorder, without
+speaking a word, and so ris and took his leave. Now what think you,
+shall I ever hear of him more?
+
+You do not thank me for using your rival so scurvily nor are not jealous
+of him, though your father thinks my intentions were not handsome
+towards you, which methinks is another argument that one is not to be
+one's own judge; for I am very confident they were, and with his favour
+shall never believe otherwise. I am sure I have no ends to serve of my
+own in what I did,--it could be no advantage to me that had firmly
+resolved not to marry; but I thought it might be an injury to you to
+keep you in expectation of what was never likely to be, as I
+apprehended. Why do I enter into this wrangling discourse? Let your
+father think me what he pleases, if he ever comes to know me, the rest
+of my actions shall justify me in this; if he does not, I'll begin to
+practise on him (what you so often preached to me) to neglect the report
+of the world, and satisfy myself in my own innocency.
+
+'Twill be pleasinger to you, I am sure, to tell you how fond I am of
+your lock. Well, in earnest now, and setting aside all compliments, I
+never saw finer hair, nor of a better colour; but cut no more on't, I
+would not have it spoiled for the world. If you love me, be careful
+on't. I am combing, and curling, and kissing this lock all day, and
+dreaming on't all night. The ring, too, is very well, only a little of
+the biggest. Send me a tortoise one that is a little less than that I
+sent for a pattern. I would not have the rule so absolutely true without
+exception that hard hairs be ill-natured, for then I should be so. But I
+can allow that all soft hairs are good, and so are you, or I am deceived
+as much as you are if you think I do not love you enough. Tell me, my
+dearest, am I? You will not be if you think I am
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 52._--It is interesting to find Dorothy reading the good Jeremy
+Taylor's _Holy Living_, a book too little known in this day. For amidst
+its old-fashioned piety there are many sentiments of practical goodness,
+expressed with clear insistence, combined with a quaint grace of
+literary style which we have long ago cast aside in the pursuit of other
+things. Dorothy loved this book, and knew it well. Compare the following
+extract from the chapter on Christian Justice with what Dorothy has
+written in this letter. Has she been recently reading this passage?
+Perhaps she has; but more probably it is the recollection of what is
+well known that she is reproducing from a memory not unstored with such
+learning. Thus writes Dr. Taylor: "There is very great peace and
+immunity from sin in resigning our wills up to the command of others:
+for, provided our duty to God be secured, their commands are warrants to
+us in all things else; and the case of conscience is determined, if the
+command be evident and pressing: and it is certain, the action that is
+but indifferent and without reward, if done only upon our own choice, is
+an action of duty and of religion, and rewardable by the grace and
+favour of God, if done in obedience to the command of our superiors."
+
+Little and Great Brickhill, where Temple is to receive a letter from
+Dorothy, kindly favoured by Mr. Gibson, stand due west of Chicksands
+some seventeen miles, and about forty-six miles along the high-road from
+London to Chester. Temple would probably arrange to stay there, receive
+Dorothy's letter, and send one in return.
+
+Dorothy has apparently tired of Calprenede and Scuderi, of _Cleopatre_
+and _Cyrus_, and has turned to travels to amuse her. Fernando Mendez
+Pinto did, I believe, actually visit China, and is said to have landed
+in the Gulf of Pekin. What he writes of China seems to bear some
+resemblance to what later writers have said. It is hard to say how and
+where his conversations with the Chinese were carried on, as he himself
+admits that he did not understand one word of the language.
+
+Lady Grey's sister, Mrs. Pooley, is unknown to history. Of Mr. Fish we
+know, as has already been said, nothing more than that he was Dorothy's
+lover, and a native of Bedfordshire, probably her near neighbour. James
+B---- must be another lover, and he is altogether untraceable. Mrs.
+Goldsmith is, as you will remember, wife of the Vicar of Campton. The
+Valentine stories will date this letter for us as written in the latter
+half of February.
+
+
+SIR,--They say you gave order for this waste-paper; how do you think I
+could ever fill it, or with what? I am not always in the humour to
+wrangle and dispute. For example now, I had rather agree to what you
+say, than tell you that Dr. Taylor (whose devote you must know I am)
+says there is a great advantage to be gained in resigning up one's will
+to the command of another, because the same action which in itself is
+wholly indifferent, if done upon our own choice, becomes an act of duty
+and religion if done in obedience to the command of any person whom
+nature, the laws, or ourselves have given a power over us; so that
+though in an action already done we can only be our own judges, because
+we only know with what intentions it was done, yet in any we intend,
+'tis safest, sure, to take the advice of another. Let me practise this
+towards you as well as preach it to you, and I'll lay a wager you will
+approve on't. But I am chiefly of your opinion that contentment (which
+the Spanish proverb says is the best paint) gives the lustre to all
+one's enjoyment, puts a beauty upon things which without it would have
+none, increases it extremely where 'tis already in some degree, and
+without it, all that we call happiness besides loses its property. What
+is contentment, must be left to every particular person to judge for
+themselves, since they only know what is so to them which differs in all
+according to their several humours. Only you and I agree 'tis to be
+found by us in a true friend, a moderate fortune, and a retired life;
+the last I thank God I have in perfection. My cell is almost finished,
+and when you come back you'll find me in it, and bring me both the rest
+I hope.
+
+I find it much easier to talk of your coming back than your going. You
+shall never persuade me I send you this journey. No, pray let it be your
+father's commands, or a necessity your fortune puts upon you. 'Twas
+unkindly said to tell me I banish you; your heart never told it you, I
+dare swear; nor mine ne'er thought it. No, my dear, this is our last
+misfortune, let's bear it nobly. Nothing shows we deserve a punishment
+so much as our murmuring at it; and the way to lessen those we feel, and
+to 'scape those we fear, is to suffer patiently what is imposed, making
+a virtue of necessity. 'Tis not that I have less kindness or more
+courage than you, but that mistrusting myself more (as I have more
+reason), I have armed myself all that is possible against this occasion.
+I have thought that there is not much difference between your being at
+Dublin or at London, as our affairs stand. You can write and hear from
+the first, and I should not see you sooner if you continued still at the
+last.
+
+Besides, I hope this journey will be of advantage to us; when your
+father pressed your coming over he told you, you needed not doubt either
+his power or his will. Have I done anything since that deserves he
+should alter his intentions towards us? Or has any accident lessened his
+power? If neither, we may hope to be happy, and the sooner for this
+journey. I dare not send my boy to meet you at Brickhill nor any other
+of the servants, they are all too talkative. But I can get Mr. Gibson,
+if you will, to bring you a letter. 'Tis a civil, well-natured man as
+can be, of excellent principles and exact honesty. I durst make him my
+confessor, though he is not obliged by his orders to conceal anything
+that is told him. But you must tell me then which Brickhill it is you
+stop at, Little or Great; they are neither of them far from us. If you
+stay there you will write back by him, will you not, a long letter? I
+shall need it; besides that, you owe it me for the last being so short.
+Would you saw what letters my brother writes me; you are not half so
+kind. Well, he is always in the extremes; since our last quarrel he has
+courted me more than ever he did in his life, and made me more presents,
+which, considering his humour, is as great a testimony of his kindness
+as 'twas of Mr. Smith's to my Lady Sunderland when he presented Mrs.
+Camilla. He sent me one this week which, in earnest, is as pretty a
+thing as I have seen, a China trunk, and the finest of the kind that
+e'er I saw. By the way (this puts me in mind on't), have you read the
+story of China written by a Portuguese, Fernando Mendez Pinto, I think
+his name is? If you have not, take it with you, 'tis as diverting a book
+of the kind as ever I read, and is as handsomely written. You must allow
+him the privilege of a traveller, and he does not abuse it. His lies are
+as pleasant harmless ones, as lies can be, and in no great number
+considering the scope he has for them. There is one in Dublin now, that
+ne'er saw much farther, has told me twice as many (I dare swear) of
+Ireland. If I should ever live to see that country and be in't, I should
+make excellent sport with them. 'Tis a sister of my Lady Grey's, her
+name is Pooley; her husband lives there too, but I am afraid in no very
+good condition. They were but poor, and she lived here with her sisters
+when I knew her; 'tis not half a year since she went, I think. If you
+hear of her, send me word how she makes a shift there.
+
+And hark you, can you tell me whether the gentleman that lost a crystal
+box the 1st of February in St. James' Park or Old Spring Gardens has
+found it again or not, I have strong curiosity to know? Tell me, and
+I'll tell you something that you don't know, which is, that I am your
+Valentine and you are mine. I did not think of drawing any, but Mrs.
+Goldsmith and Jane would need make me some for them and myself; so I
+writ down our three names, and for men Mr. Fish, James B., and you. I
+cut them all equal and made them up myself before them, and because I
+would owe it wholly to my good fortune if I were pleased. I made both
+them choose first that had never seen what was in them, and they left me
+you. Then I made them choose again for theirs, and my name was left. You
+cannot imagine how I was delighted with this little accident, but by
+taking notice that I cannot forbear telling you it. I was not half so
+pleased with my encounter next morning. I was up early, but with no
+design of getting another Valentine, and going out to walk in my
+night-cloak and night-gown, I met Mr. Fish going a hunting, I think he
+was; but he stayed to tell me I was his Valentine; and I should not have
+been rid on him quickly, if he had not thought himself a little too
+_negligee_; his hair was not powdered, and his clothes were but
+ordinary; to say truth, he looked then methought like other mortal
+people. Yet he was as handsome as your Valentine. I'll swear you wanted
+one when you took her, and had very ill fortune that nobody met you
+before her. Oh, if I had not terrified my little gentleman when he
+brought me his own letter, now sure I had had him for my Valentine!
+
+On my conscience, I shall follow your counsel if e'er he comes again,
+but I am persuaded he will not. I writ my brother that story for want of
+something else, and he says I did very well, there was no other way to
+be rid on him; and he makes a remark upon't that I can be severe enough
+when I please, and wishes I would practise it somewhere else as well as
+there. Can you tell where that is? I never understand anybody that does
+not speak plain English, and he never uses that to me of late, but tells
+me the finest stories (I may apply them how I please) of people that
+have married when they thought there was great kindness, and how
+miserably they have found themselves deceived; how despicable they have
+made themselves by it, and how sadly they have repented on't. He reckons
+more inconveniency than you do that follows good nature, says it makes
+one credulous, apt to be abused, betrays one to the cunning of people
+that make advantage on't, and a thousand such things which I hear half
+asleep and half awake, and take little notice of, unless it be sometimes
+to say that with all these faults I would not be without it. No, in
+earnest, nor I could not love any person that I thought had it not to a
+good degree. 'Twas the first thing I liked in you, and without it I
+should never have liked anything. I know 'tis counted simple, but I
+cannot imagine why. 'Tis true some people have it that have not wit, but
+there are at least as many foolish people I have ever observed to be
+fullest of tricks, little ugly plots and designs, unnecessary disguises,
+and mean cunnings, which are the basest qualities in the world, and
+makes one the most contemptible, I think; when I once discover them they
+lose their credit with me for ever. Some will say they are cunning only
+in their own defence, and that there is no living in this world without
+it; but I cannot understand how anything more is necessary to one's own
+safety besides a prudent caution; that I now think is, though I can
+remember when nobody could have persuaded me that anybody meant ill when
+it did not appear by their words and actions. I remember my mother (who,
+if it may be allowed me to say it) was counted as wise a woman as most
+in England,--when she seemed to distrust anybody, and saw I took notice
+on't, would ask if I did not think her too jealous and a little
+ill-natured. "Come, I know you do," says she, "if you would confess it,
+and I cannot blame you. When I was young as you are, I thought my
+father-in-law (who was a wise man) the most unreasonably suspicious man
+that ever was, and disliked him for it hugely; but I have lived to see
+it is almost impossible to think people worse than they are, and so will
+you." I did not believe her, and less, that I should have more to say to
+you than this paper would hold. It shall never be said I began another
+at this time of night, though I have spent this idly, that should have
+told you with a little more circumstance how perfectly
+
+I am yours.
+
+
+_Letter 53._--Dorothy's brother seems to have got hold of a new weapon
+of attack in Temple's religious opinions, which might have led to a
+strategic success in more skilful hands. He only manages to exasperate
+Dorothy with himself, not with Temple. As for Temple, he has not
+altogether escaped the censure of the orthodox. Gossiping Bishop Burnet,
+in one of his more ill-natured passages, tells us that Temple was an
+Epicurean, thinking religion to be fit only for the mob, and a corrupter
+of all that came near him. Unkind words these, with just, perhaps, those
+dregs of truth in them which make gossip so hard to bear patiently. Was
+it true, as Courtenay thinks, that jealousy of King William's attachment
+to Temple disturbed the episcopal equipoise of soul, rendering his
+Lordship slanderous, even a backbiter?
+
+Robin C. is probably one of the Cheeke family.
+
+Bagshawe is Edward Bagshawe the Elder, B.A. of Brasenose, Oxford, and of
+the Middle Temple, barrister-at-law. In the early part of the century he
+had been a Puritan among Puritans, and in the old hall of the Middle
+Temple had delivered two lectures to show that bishops may not meddle in
+civil affairs, and that a Parliament may be held without bishops;
+questions still unsettled. Laud appears to have prohibited these
+lectures. Bagshawe in after life joined the King at Oxford, and suffered
+imprisonment at the hands of his former friends in the King's Bench
+Prison from 1644 to 1646. Young Sir Harry Yelverton, Lady Ruthin's
+husband, broke a theological lance with his son, the younger Edward
+Bagshawe, to vindicate the cause of the Church of England. The elder
+Bagshawe died in 1662, and was buried at Morton Pinckney, in
+Northamptonshire. How and why he railed at love and marriage it is
+impossible now to know. Edward Bagshawe the younger published in 1671 an
+_Antidote against Mr. Baxter's Treatise of Love and Marriage_.
+
+The preaching woman at Somerset House was, in all probability, Mrs.
+Hannah Trupnel. She, that in April of this year is spoken of, in an old
+news-book, as having "lately acted her part in a trance so many days at
+Whitehall." She appears to have been full of mystical, anti-Puritan
+prophecies, and was indicted in Cornwall as a rogue and vagabond,
+convicted and bound over in recognizances to behave herself in future.
+After this she abandoned her design of passing from county to county
+disaffecting the people with her prophecies, and we hear no more of her.
+
+SIR,--'Tis well you have given over your reproaches; I can allow you to
+tell me of my faults kindly and like a friend. Possibly it is a weakness
+in me to aim at the world's esteem, as if I could not be happy without
+it; but there are certain things that custom has made almost of absolute
+necessity, and reputation I take to be one of these. If one could be
+invisible I should choose that; but since all people are seen or known,
+and shall be talked of in spite of their teeth, who is it that does not
+desire, at least, that nothing of ill may be said of them, whether
+justly or otherwise? I never knew any so satisfied with their own
+innocence as to be content that the world should think them guilty. Some
+out of pride have seemed to contemn ill reports when they have found
+they could not avoid them, but none out of strength of reason, though
+many have pretended to it. No, not my Lady Newcastle with all her
+philosophy, therefore you must not expect it from me. I shall never be
+ashamed to own that I have a particular value for you above any other,
+but 'tis not the greatest merit of person will excuse a want of fortune;
+in some degree I think it will, at least with the most rational part of
+the world, and, as far as that will read, I desire it should. I would
+not have the world believe I married out of interest and to please my
+friends; I had much rather they should know I chose the person, and took
+his fortune, because 'twas necessary, and that I prefer a competency
+with one I esteem infinitely before a vast estate in other hands. 'Tis
+much easier, sure, to get a good fortune than a good husband; but
+whosoever marries without any consideration of fortune shall never be
+allowed to do it, but of so reasonable an apprehension the whole world
+(without any reserve) shall pronounce they did it merely to satisfy
+their giddy humour.
+
+Besides, though you imagine 'twere a great argument of my kindness to
+consider nothing but you, in earnest I believe 'twould be an injury to
+you. I do not see that it puts any value upon men when women marry them
+for love (as they term it); 'tis not their merit, but our folly that is
+always presumed to cause it; and would it be any advantage to you to
+have your wife thought an indiscreet person? All this I can say to you;
+but when my brother disputes it with me I have other arguments for him,
+and I drove him up so close t'other night that for want of a better gap
+to get out at he was fain to say that he feared as much your having a
+fortune as your having none, for he saw you held my Lord L't's [?
+Lieutenant's] principles. That religion and honour were things you did
+not consider at all, and that he was confident you would take any
+engagement, serve in employment, or do anything to advance yourself. I
+had no patience for this. To say you were a beggar, your father not
+worth L4000 in the whole world, was nothing in comparison of having no
+religion nor no honour. I forgot all my disguise, and we talked
+ourselves weary; he renounced me, and I defied him, but both in as civil
+language as it would permit, and parted in great anger with the usual
+ceremony of a leg and a courtesy, that you would have died with laughing
+to have seen us.
+
+The next day I, not being at dinner, saw him not till night; then he
+came into my chamber, where I supped but he did not. Afterwards Mr.
+Gibson and he and I talked of indifferent things till all but we two
+went to bed. Then he sat half-an-hour and said not one word, nor I to
+him. At last, in a pitiful tone, "Sister," says he, "I have heard you
+say that when anything troubles you, of all things you apprehend going
+to bed, because there it increases upon you, and you lie at the mercy of
+all your sad thought, which the silence and darkness of the night adds a
+horror to; I am at that pass now. I vow to God I would not endure
+another night like the last to gain a crown." I, who resolved to take no
+notice what ailed him, said 'twas a knowledge I had raised from my
+spleen only, and so fell into a discourse of melancholy and the causes,
+and from that (I know not how) into religion; and we talked so long of
+it, and so devoutly, that it laid all our anger. We grew to a calm and
+peace with all the world. Two hermits conversing in a cell they equally
+inhabit, ne'er expressed more humble, charitable kindness, one towards
+another, than we. He asked my pardon and I his, and he has promised me
+never to speak of it to me whilst he lives, but leave the event to God
+Almighty; until he sees it done, he will always be the same to me that
+he is; then he shall leave me, he says, not out of want of kindness to
+me, but because he cannot see the ruin of a person that he loves so
+passionately, and in whose happiness he has laid up all his. These are
+the terms we are at, and I am confident he will keep his word with me,
+so that you have no reason to fear him in any respect; for though he
+should break his promise, he should never make me break mine. No, let me
+assure you this rival, nor any other, shall ever alter me, therefore
+spare your jealousy, or turn it all into kindness.
+
+I will write every week, and no miss of letters shall give us any doubts
+of one another. Time nor accidents shall not prevail upon our hearts,
+and, if God Almighty please to bless us, we will meet the same we are,
+or happier. I will do all you bid me. I will pray, and wish, and hope,
+but you must do so too, then, and be so careful of yourself that I may
+have nothing to reproach you with when you come back.
+
+That vile wench lets you see all my scribbles, I believe; how do you
+know I took care your hair should not be spoiled? 'Tis more than e'er
+you did, I think, you are so negligent on't, and keep it so ill, 'tis
+pity you should have it. May you have better luck in the cutting it than
+I had with mine. I cut it two or three years agone, and it never grew
+since. Look to it; if I keep the lock you give me better than you do all
+the rest, I shall not spare you; expect to be soundly chidden. What do
+you mean to do with all my letters? Leave them behind you? If you do, it
+must be in safe hands, some of them concern you, and me, and other
+people besides us very much, and they will almost load a horse to carry.
+
+Does not my cousin at Moor Park mistrust us a little? I have a great
+belief they do. I am sure Robin C---- told my brother of it since I was
+last in town. Of all things, I admire my cousin Molle has not got it by
+the end, he that frequents that family so much, and is at this instant
+at Kimbolton. If he has, and conceals it, he is very discreet; I could
+never discern by anything that he knew it. I shall endeavour to accustom
+myself to the noise on't, and make it as easy to me as I can, though I
+had much rather it were not talked of till there were an absolute
+necessity of discovering it, and you can oblige me in nothing more than
+in concealing it. I take it very kindly that you promise to use all your
+interest in your father to persuade him to endeavour our happiness, and
+he appears so confident of his power that it gives me great hopes.
+
+Dear! shall we ever be so happy, think you? Ah! I dare not hope it. Yet
+'tis not want of love gives me these fears. No, in earnest, I think
+(nay, I'm sure) I love you more than ever, and 'tis that only gives me
+these despairing thoughts; when I consider how small a proportion of
+happiness is allowed in this world, and how great mine would be in a
+person for whom I have a passionate kindness, and who has the same for
+me. As it is infinitely above what I can deserve, and more than God
+Almighty usually allots to the best people, I can find nothing in reason
+but seems to be against me; and, methinks, 'tis as vain in me to expect
+it as 'twould be to hope I might be a queen (if that were really as
+desirable a thing as 'tis thought to be); and it is just it should be
+so.
+
+We complain of this world, and the variety of crosses and afflictions it
+abounds in, and yet for all this who is weary on't (more than in
+discourse), who thinks with pleasure of leaving it, or preparing for the
+next? We see old folks, who have outlived all the comforts of life,
+desire to continue in it, and nothing can wean us from the folly of
+preferring a mortal being, subject to great infirmity and unavoidable
+decays, before an immortal one, and all the glories that are promised
+with it. Is this not very like preaching? Well, 'tis too good for you;
+you shall have no more on't. I am afraid you are not mortified enough
+for such discourse to work upon (though I am not of my brother's
+opinion, neither, that you have no religion in you). In earnest, I never
+took anything he ever said half so ill, as nothing, sure, is so great an
+injury. It must suppose one to be a devil in human shape. Oh, me! now I
+am speaking of religion, let me ask you is not his name Bagshawe that
+you say rails on love and women? Because I heard one t'other day
+speaking of him, and commending his wit, but withal, said he was a
+perfect atheist. If so, I can allow him to hate us, and love, which,
+sure, has something of divine in it, since God requires it of us. I am
+coming into my preaching vein again. What think you, were it not a good
+way of preferment as the times are? If you'll advise me to it I'll
+venture. The woman at Somerset House was cried up mightily. Think on't.
+
+Dear, I am yours.
+
+
+_Letter 54._--Temple has really started on his journey, and is now past
+Brickhill, far away in the north of England. The journey to Ireland was
+made _via_ Holyhead in those days as it is now. It was a four days'
+journey to Chester, and no good road after. The great route through
+Wales to Holyhead was in such a state that in 1685 the Viceroy going to
+Ireland was five hours in travelling the fourteen miles from St. Asaph
+to Conway; between Conway and Beaumaris he walked; and his lady was
+carried in a litter. A carriage was often taken to pieces at Conway, and
+carried to the Menai Straits on the peasants' shoulders round the
+dangerous cliff of Penmaenmawr. Mr. B. and Mr. D. remain mysterious
+symbolic initials of gossip and scandalmongering. St. Gregory's near St.
+Paul's, was a church entirely destroyed by the great fire.
+
+Sir John Tufton of "The Mote," near Maidstone, married Mary, the third
+daughter and co-heiress of Thomas Lord Wotton.
+
+
+    For your Master [seal with coat-of-arms],
+        when your Mistress pleases.
+
+SIR,--You bid me write every week, and I am doing it without considering
+how it will come to you. Let Nan look to that, with whom, I suppose, you
+have left the orders of conveyance. I have your last letter; but Jane,
+to whom you refer me, is not yet come down. On Tuesday I expect her; and
+if she be not engaged, I shall give her no cause hereafter to believe
+that she is a burden to me, though I have no employment for her but that
+of talking to me when I am in the humour of saying nothing. Your dog is
+come too, and I have received him with all the kindness that is due to
+anything you send. I have defended him from the envy and malice of a
+troop of greyhounds that used to be in favour with me; and he is so
+sensible of my care over him, that he is pleased with nobody else, and
+follows me as if we had been of long acquaintance. 'Tis well you are
+gone past my recovery. My heart has failed me twenty times since you
+went, and, had you been within my call, I had brought you back as often,
+though I know thirty miles' distance and three hundred are the same
+thing. You will be so kind, I am sure, as to write back by the coach and
+tell me what the success of your journey so far has been. After that, I
+expect no more (unless you stay for a wind) till you arrive at Dublin. I
+pity your sister in earnest; a sea voyage is welcome to no lady; but you
+are beaten to it, and 'twill become you, now you are a conductor, to
+show your valour and keep your company in heart. When do you think of
+coming back again? I am asking that before you are at your journey's
+end. You will not take it ill that I desire it should be soon. In the
+meantime, I'll practise all the rules you give me. Who told you I go to
+bed late? In earnest, they do me wrong: I have been faulty in that point
+heretofore, I confess, but 'tis a good while since I gave it over with
+my reading o' nights; but in the daytime I cannot live without it, and
+'tis all my diversion, and infinitely more pleasing to me than any
+company but yours. And yet I am not given to it in any excess now; I
+have been very much more. 'Tis Jane, I know, tells all these tales of
+me. I shall be even with her some time or other, but for the present I
+long for her with some impatience, that she may tell me all you have
+told her.
+
+Never trust me if I had not a suspicion from the first that 'twas that
+ill-looked fellow B---- who made that story Mr. D---- told you. That
+which gave me the first inclination to that belief was the circumstance
+you told me of their seeing me at St. Gregory's. For I remembered to
+have seen B---- there, and had occasion to look up into the gallery
+where he sat, to answer a very civil salute given me from thence by Mr.
+Freeman, and saw B---- in a great whisper with another that sat next
+him, and pointing to me. If Mr. D---- had not been so nice in
+discovering his name, you would quickly have been cured of your
+jealousy. Never believe I have a servant that I do not tell you of as
+soon as I know it myself. As, for example, my brother Peyton has sent to
+me, for a countryman of his, Sir John Tufton,--he married one of my Lady
+Wotton's heirs, who is lately dead,--and to invite me to think of it.
+Besides his person and his fortune, without exception, he tells me what
+an excellent husband he was to this lady that's dead, who was but a
+crooked, ill-favoured woman, only she brought him L1500 a year. I tell
+him I believe, Sir John Tufton could be content, I were so too upon the
+same terms. But his loving his first wife can be no argument to persuade
+me; for if he had loved her as he ought to do, I cannot hope he should
+love another so well as I expect anybody should that has me; and if he
+did not love her, I have less to expect he should me. I do not care for
+a divided heart; I must have all or none, at least the first place in
+it. Poor James, I have broke his. He says 'twould pity you to hear what
+sad complaints he makes; and, but that he has not the heart to hang
+himself, he would be very well contented to be out of the world.
+
+That house of your cousin R---- is fatal to physicians. Dr. Smith that
+took it is dead already; but maybe this was before you went, and so is
+no news to you. I shall be sending you all I hear; which, though it
+cannot be much, living as I do, yet it may be more than ventures into
+Ireland. I would have you diverted, whilst you are there, as much as
+possible; but not enough to tempt you to stay one minute longer than
+your father and your business obliges you. Alas! I have already repented
+all my share in your journey, and begin to find I am not half so valiant
+as I sometimes take myself to be. The knowledge that our interests are
+the same, and that I shall be happy or unfortunate in your person as
+much or more than in my own, does not give me that confidence you speak
+of. It rather increases my doubts, and I durst trust your fortune alone,
+rather than now that mine is joined with it. Yet I will hope yours may
+be so good as to overcome the ill of mine, and shall endeavour to mend
+my own all I can by striving to deserve it, maybe, better. My dearest,
+will you pardon me that I am forced to leave you so soon? The next shall
+be longer, though I can never be more than I am
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 55._--This sad letter, fully dated 18th March 1654, was written
+after Sir Peter Osborne was buried in Campton Church. Even as Dorothy
+wrote this, the stone-mason might be slowly carving words that may be
+read to this day: "The maintainer of divine exercises, the friend to the
+poor." Her father is no longer living, and she is now even more lonely
+than before. To depend upon kindred that are not friends, to be under
+the protection of a brother who is her lover's avowed enemy, this is her
+lot in life, unless Temple can release her from it. Alas! poor Dorothy,
+who will now forbear to pity you?
+
+
+_March the 18th, 1654._
+
+How true it is that a misfortune never comes single; we live in
+expectation of some one happiness that we propose to ourselves, an age
+almost, and perhaps miss it at the last; but sad accidents have wings to
+overtake us, and come in flocks like ill-boding ravens. You were no
+sooner gone but (as if that had not been enough) I lost the best father
+in the world; and though, as to himself, it was an infinite mercy in God
+Almighty to take him out of a world that can be pleasing to none, and
+was made more uneasy to him by many infirmities that were upon him, yet
+to me it is an affliction much greater than people judge it. Besides all
+that is due to nature and the memory of many (more than ordinary)
+kindnesses received from him, besides what he was to all that knew him,
+and what he was to me in particular, I am left by his death in the
+condition (which of all others) is the most unsupportable to my nature,
+to depend upon kindred that are not friends, and that, though I pay as
+much as I should do to a stranger, yet think they do me a courtesy. I
+expect my eldest brother to-day; if he comes, I shall be able to tell
+you before I seal this up where you are likely to find me. If he offers
+me to stay here, this hole will be more agreeable to my humour than any
+place that is more in the world. I take it kindly that you used art to
+conceal our story and satisfy my nice apprehensions, but I'll not impose
+that constraint upon you any longer, for I find my kind brother
+publishes it with more earnestness than ever I strove to conceal it; and
+with more disadvantage than anybody else would. Now he has tried all
+ways to do what he desires, and finds it is in vain, he resolves to
+revenge himself upon me, by representing this action in such colours as
+will amaze all people that know me, and do not know him enough to
+discern his malice to me; he is not able to forbear showing it now, when
+my condition deserves pity from all the world, I think, and that he
+himself has newly lost a father, as well as I; but takes this time to
+torment me, which appears (at least to me) so barbarous a cruelty, that
+though I thank God I have charity enough perfectly to forgive all the
+injury he can do me, yet I am afraid I shall never look upon him as a
+brother more. And now do you judge whether I am not very unhappy, and
+whether that sadness in my face you used to complain of was not suited
+to my fortune. You must confess it; and that my kindness for you is
+beyond example, all these troubles are persecutions that make me weary
+of the world before my time, and lessen the concernment I have for you,
+and instead of being persuaded as they would have me by their malicious
+stories, methinks I am obliged to love you more in recompense of all the
+injuries they have done you upon my score. I shall need nothing but my
+own heart to fortify me in this resolution, and desire nothing in return
+of it but that your care of yourself may answer to that which I shall
+always have for your interests.
+
+I received your letter of the 10th of this month; and I hope this will
+find you at your journey's end. In earnest, I have pitied your sister
+extremely, and can easily apprehend how troublesome this voyage must
+needs be to her, by knowing what others have been to me; yet, pray
+assure her I would not scruple at undertaking it myself to gain such an
+acquaintance, and would go much farther than where (I hope) she now is
+to serve her. I am afraid she will not think me a fit person to choose
+for a friend, that cannot agree with my own brother; but I must trust
+you to tell my story for me, and will hope for a better character from
+you than he gives me; who, lest I should complain, resolves to prevent
+me, and possess my friends first that he is the injured party. I never
+magnified my patience to you, but I begin to have a good opinion on't
+since this trial; yet, perhaps, I have no reason, and it may be as well
+a want of sense in me as of passion; however, you will not be displeased
+to know that I can endure all that he or anybody else can say, and that
+setting aside my father's death and your absence, I make nothing an
+affliction to me, though I am sorry, I confess, to see myself forc'd to
+keep such distances with one of his relations, because religion and
+nature and the custom of world teaches otherwise. I see I shall not be
+able to satisfy you in this how I shall dispose of myself, for my
+brother is not come; the next will certainly tell you. In the meantime,
+I expect with great impatience to hear of your safe arrival. 'Twas a
+disappointment that you missed those fair winds. I pleased myself
+extremely with a belief that they had made your voyage rather a
+diversion than a trouble, either to you or your company, but I hope your
+passage was as happy, if not as sudden, as you expected it; let me hear
+often from you, and long letters. I do not count this so. Have no
+apprehensions from me, but all the care of yourself that you please. My
+melancholy has no anger in it; and I believe the accidents of my life
+would work more upon any other than they do upon me, whose humour is
+always more prepared for them than that of gayer persons. I hear nothing
+that is worth your knowing; when I do, you shall know it. Tell me if
+there's anything I can do for you, and assure yourself I am perfectly
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 56._--Temple has reached Dublin at last, and begins to write
+from there. This letter also is dated, and from this time forth there is
+less trouble in arranging the letters in order of date, as many of them
+have, at least, the day of the month, if nothing more.
+
+The Marquis of Hertford was the Duke of Somerset's great-grandson. He
+married Lady Arabella Stuart, daughter of Charles Stuart, Earl of
+Lennox, uncle of King James I, for which matrimonial adventure he was
+imprisoned in the Tower. His second wife was Frances, daughter of
+Robert, Earl of Essex, and sister to the great general of the
+Parliamentary Army. She was the mother of young Lord Beauchamp, whose
+death Dorothy deplores. He was twenty-eight years of age when he died.
+He married Mary, daughter of Lord Capel of Hadham, who afterwards
+married the Duke of Beaufort.
+
+Baptist Noel, Viscount Camden, was a noted loyalist. After the
+Restoration we find him appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Rutland. Of his
+duel with Mr. Stafford there seems to be no account. It did not carry
+him into the King's Bench Court, like Lord Chandos' duel, so history is
+silent about it.
+
+
+_April the 2nd, 1654._
+
+SIR,--There was never any lady more surprised than I was with your last.
+I read it so coldly, and was so troubled to find that you were so
+forward on your journey; but when I came to the last, and saw Dublin at
+the date, I could scarce believe my eyes. In earnest, it transported me
+so that I could not forbear expressing my joy in such a manner as had
+anybody been by to have observed me they would have suspected me no very
+sober person.
+
+You are safe arrived, you say, and pleased with the place already, only
+because you meet with a letter of mine there. In your next I expect some
+other commendation on't, or else I shall hardly make such haste to it as
+people here believe I will.
+
+All the servants have been to take their leaves on me, and say how sorry
+they are to hear I am going out of the land; some beggar at the door has
+made so ill a report of Ireland to them that they pity me extremely, but
+you are pleased, I hope, to hear I am coming to you; the next fair wind
+expect me. 'Tis not to be imagined the ridiculous stories they have
+made, nor how J.B. cries out on me for refusing him and choosing his
+chamber-fellow; yet he pities me too, and swears I am condemned to be
+the miserablest person upon earth. With all his quarrel to me, he does
+not wish me so ill as to be married to the proudest, imperious,
+insulting, ill-natured man that ever was; one that before he has had me
+a week shall use me with contempt, and believe that the favour was of
+his side. Is not this very comfortable? But, pray, make it no quarrel; I
+make it none, I assure you. And though he knew you before I did, I do
+not think he knows you so well; besides that, his testimony is not of
+much value.
+
+I am to spend this next week in taking leave of this country, and all
+the company in't, perhaps never to see it more. From hence I must go
+into Northamptonshire to my Lady Ruthin, and so to London, where I shall
+find my aunt and my brother Peyton, betwixt whom I think to divide this
+summer.
+
+Nothing has happened since you went worth your knowledge. My Lord
+Marquis Hertford has lost his son, my Lord Beauchamp, who has left a
+fine young widow. In earnest, 'tis great pity; at the rate of our young
+nobility he was an extraordinary person, and remarkable for an excellent
+husband. My Lord Cambden, too, has fought with Mr. Stafford, but there's
+no harm done. You may discern the haste I'm in by my writing. There will
+come a time for a long letter again, but there will never come any
+wherein I shall not be
+
+Yours.
+
+[Sealed with black wax, and directed]
+     For Mr. William Temple,
+         at Sir John Temple's home
+              in Damask Street,
+                  Dublin.
+
+
+Thus Dorothy leaves Chicksands, her last words from her old home to
+Temple breathing her love and affection for him. It is no great sorrow
+at the moment to leave Chicksands, for its latest memories are scenes
+of sickness, grief, and death. And now the only home on earth for
+Dorothy lies in the future; it is not a particular spot on earth, but to
+be by his side, wherever that may be.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+VISITING. SUMMER 1654
+
+
+This chapter opens with a portion of a letter written by Sir William
+Temple to his mistress, dated Ireland, May 18, 1654. It is the only
+letter, or rather scrap of letter which we have of his, and by some good
+chance it has survived with the rest of Dorothy's letters. It will, I
+think, throw great light on his character as a lover, showing him to
+have been ardent and ecstatic in his suit, making quite clear Dorothy's
+wisdom in insisting, as she often does, on the necessity of some more
+material marriage portion than mere love and hope. His reference to the
+"unhappy differences" strengthens my view that the letters of the former
+chapter belong all to one date.
+
+
+_Letter 57._--Letter of Sir William Temple.
+
+
+_May 18th, 1654._
+
+... I am called upon for my letter, but must have leave first to
+remember you of yours. For God's sake write constantly while I am here,
+or I am undone past all recovery. I have lived upon them ever since I
+came, but had thrived much better had they been longer. Unless you use
+to give me better measure, I shall not be in case to undertake a journey
+to England. The despair I was in at not hearing from you last week, and
+the belief that all my letters had miscarried (by some treachery among
+my good friends who, I am sorry, have the name of yours), made me press
+my father by all means imaginable to give me leave to go presently if I
+heard not from you this post. But he would never yield to that, because,
+he said, upon your silence he should suspect all was not likely to be
+well between us, and then he was sure I should not be in condition to be
+alone. He remembered too well the letters I writ upon our last unhappy
+differences, and would not trust me from him in such another occasion.
+But, withal, he told me he would never give me occasion of any
+discontent which he could remedy; that if you desired my coming over,
+and I could not be content without, he would not hinder me, though he
+very much desired my company a month or two longer, and that in that
+time 'twas very likely I might have his as well.
+
+Now, in very good earnest, do you think 'tis time for me to come or no?
+Would you be very glad to see me there, and could you do it in less
+disorder, and with less surprise, than you did at Chicksands?
+
+I ask you these questions very seriously; but yet how willingly would I
+venture all to be with you. I know you love me still; you promised me,
+and that's all the security I can have in this world. 'Tis that which
+makes all things else seem nothing to it, so high it sets me; and so
+high, indeed, that should I ever fall 'twould dash me all to pieces.
+Methinks your very charity should make you love me more now than ever,
+by seeing me so much more unhappy than I used, by being so much farther
+from you, for that is all the measure can be taken of my good or ill
+condition. Justice, I am sure, will oblige you to it, since you have no
+other means left in the world of rewarding such a passion as mine,
+which, sure, is of a much richer value than anything in the world
+besides. Should you save my life again, should you make me absolute
+master of your fortune and your person too, I should accept none of all
+this in any part of payment, but look upon you as one behindhand with me
+still. 'Tis no vanity this, but a true sense of how pure and how refined
+a nature my passion is, which none can ever know except my own heart,
+unless you find it out by being there.
+
+How hard it is to think of ending when I am writing to you; but it must
+be so, and I must ever be subject to other people's occasions, and so
+never, I think, master of my own. This is too true, both in respect of
+this fellow's post that is bawling at me for my letter, and of my
+father's delays. They kill me; but patience,--would anybody but I were
+here! Yet you may command me ever at one minute's warning. Had I not
+heard from you by this last, in earnest I had resolved to have gone with
+this, and given my father the slip for all his caution. He tells me
+still of a little time; but, alas! who knows not what mischances and how
+great changes have often happened in a little time?
+
+For God's sake let me hear of all your motions, when and where I may
+hope to see you. Let us but hope this cloud, this absence that has
+overcast all my contentment, may pass away, and I am confident there's a
+clear sky attends us. My dearest dear, adieu.
+
+Yours.
+
+Pray, where is your lodging? Have a care of all the despatch and
+security that can be in our intelligence. Remember my fellow-servant;
+sure, by the next I shall write some learned epistle to her, I have been
+so long about it.
+
+
+_Letter 58._--Dorothy is now in London, staying probably with that aunt
+whom she mentioned before as one who was always ready to find her a
+husband other than Temple. Of the plot against the Protector in which my
+Lord of Dorchester is said to be engaged, an account is given in
+connection with _Letter 59_; that is, presuming it to be the same plot,
+and that Lord Dorchester is one of the many persons arrested under
+suspicion of being concerned in it. I cannot find anything which
+identifies him with a special plot.
+
+Lady Sandis [Sandys], who seems so fond of race meetings and other less
+harmless amusements, was the wife of William Lord Sandys, and daughter
+of the Earl of Salisbury. Lord Sandys' country house was Motesfont or
+Mottisfont Priory, in Hampshire, "which the King had given him in
+exchange for Chelsea, in Westminster." So says Leland, the antiquary and
+scholar, in his _Itinerary_; but it is a little puzzling to the modern
+mind with preconceived notions of Chelsea, to hear it spoken of as a
+seat or estate in Westminster. Colonel Tom Paunton is to me merely a
+name; and J. Morton is nothing more, unless we may believe him to be Sir
+John Morton, Bart. of Milbourne, St. Andrew, in Nottinghamshire. This
+addition of a local habitation and a name gives us no further knowledge,
+however, of the scandal to which Dorothy alludes.
+
+Mistress Stanley and Mistress Witherington have left no trace of their
+identity that I can find, but Mistress Philadelphia Carey is not wholly
+unknown. She was the second daughter of Thomas Carey, one of the Earl of
+Monmouth's sons, and readers may be pleased to know that she did marry
+Sir Henry Littleton.
+
+Of the scandal concerning Lord Rich I am not sorry to know nothing.
+
+
+_May 25th_ [1654].
+
+This world is composed of nothing but contrarieties and sudden
+accidents, only the proportions are not at all equal; for to a great
+measure of trouble it allows so small a quantity of joy, that one may
+see 'tis merely intended to keep us alive withal. This is a formal
+preface, and looks as if there were something of very useful to follow;
+but I would not wish you to expect it. I was only considering my own
+ill-humour last night, I had not heard from you in a week or more, my
+brother had been with me and we had talked ourselves both out of breath
+and patience too, I was not very well, and rose this morning only
+because I was weary of lying in bed. When I had dined I took a coach and
+went to see whether there was ever a letter for me, and was this once so
+lucky as to find one. I am not partial to myself I know, and am
+contented that the pleasure I have received with this, shall serve to
+sweeten many sad thoughts that have interposed since your last, and more
+that I may reasonably expect before I have another; and I think I may
+(without vanity) say, that nobody is more sensible of the least good
+fortune nor murmurs less at an ill than I do, since I owe it merely to
+custom and not to any constancy in my humour, or something that is
+better. No, in earnest, anything of good comes to me like the sun to the
+inhabitants of Greenland, it raises them to life when they see it, and
+when they miss it, it is not strange they expect a night of half a year
+long.
+
+You cannot imagine how kindly I take it that you forgive my brother, and
+let me assure you I shall never press you to anything unreasonable. I
+will not oblige you to court a person that has injured you. I only beg
+that whatsoever he does in that kind may be excused by his relation to
+me, and that whenever you are moved to think he does you wrong, you will
+at the same time remember that his sister loves you passionately and
+nobly; that if he values nothing but fortune, she despises it, and could
+love you as much a beggar as she could do a prince; and shall without
+question love you eternally, but whether with any satisfaction to
+herself or you is a sad doubt. I am not apt to hope, and whether it be
+the better or the worse I know not. All sorts of differences are natural
+to me, and that which (if your kindness would give you leave) you would
+term a weakness in me is nothing but a reasonable distrust of my own
+judgment, which makes me desire the approbation of my friends. I never
+had the confidence in my life to presume anything well done that I had
+nobody's opinion in but my own; and as you very well observe, there are
+so many that think themselves wise when nothing equals their folly but
+their pride, that I dread nothing so much as discovering such a thought
+in myself because of the consequences of it.
+
+Whenever you come you must not doubt your welcome, but I can promise you
+nothing for the manner on't. I am afraid my surprise and disorder will
+be more than ever. I have good reason to think so, and none that you can
+take ill. But I would not have you attempt it till your father is ready
+for the journey too. No, really he deserves that all your occasions
+should wait for his; and if you have not much more than an ordinary
+obedience for him, I shall never believe you have more than an ordinary
+kindness for me; since (if you will pardon me the comparison) I believe
+we both merit it from you upon the same score, he as a very indulgent
+father, and I as a very kind mistress. Don't laugh at me for commending
+myself, you will never do it for me, and so I am forced to it.
+
+I am still here in town, but had no hand, I can assure you, in the new
+discovered plot against the Protector. But my Lord of Dorchester, they
+say, has, and so might I have had if I were as rich as he, and then you
+might have been sure of me at the Tower;--now a worse lodging must serve
+my turn. 'Tis over against Salisbury House where I have the honour of
+seeing my Lady M. Sandis every day unless some race or other carry her
+out of town. The last week she went to one as far as Winchester with
+Col. Paunton (if you know such a one), and there her husband met her,
+and because he did so (though it 'twere by accident) thought himself
+obliged to invite her to his house but seven miles off, and very
+modestly said no more for it, but that he thought it better than an Inn,
+or at least a crowded one as all in the town were now because of the
+race. But she was so good a companion that she would not forsake her
+company. So he invited them too, but could prevail with neither. Only my
+Lady grew kind at parting and said, indeed if Tom Paunton and J. Morton
+and the rest would have gone she could have been contented to have taken
+his offer. Thus much for the married people, now for those that are
+towards it.
+
+There is Mr. Stanley and Mrs. Witherington; Sir H. Littleton and Mrs.
+Philadelphia Carey, who in earnest is a fine woman, such a one as will
+make an excellent wife; and some say my Lord Rich and my Lady Betty
+Howard, but others that pretend to know more say his court to her is but
+to countenance a more serious one to Mrs. Howard, her sister-in-law, he
+not having courage to pretend so openly (as some do) to another's wife.
+Oh, but your old acquaintance, poor Mr. Heningham, has no luck! He was
+so near (as he thought at least) marrying Mrs. Gerherd that anybody
+might have got his whole estate in wagers upon't that would have
+ventured but a reasonable proportion of their own. And now he looks more
+like an ass than ever he did. She has cast him off most unhandsomely,
+that's the truth on't, and would have tied him to such conditions as he
+might have been her slave withal, but could never be her husband. Is not
+this a great deal of news for me that never stir abroad? Nay, I had
+brought me to-day more than all this: that I am marrying myself! And the
+pleasantness on't is that it should be to my Lord St. John. Would he
+look on me, think you, that had pretty Mrs. Fretcheville? My comfort is,
+I have not seen him since he was a widower, and never spoke to him in my
+life. I found myself so innocent that I never blushed when they told it
+me. What would I give I could avoid it when people speak of you? In
+earnest, I do prepare myself all that is possible to hear it spoken of,
+yet for my life I cannot hear your name without discovering that I am
+more than ordinarily concerned in't. A blush is the foolishest thing
+that can be, and betrays one more than a red nose does a drunkard; and
+yet I would not so wholly have lost them as some women that I know has,
+as much injury as they do me. I can assure you now that I shall be here
+a fortnight longer (they tell me no lodger, upon pain of his Highness's
+displeasure, must remove sooner); but when I have his leave I go into
+Suffolk for a month, and then come hither again to go into Kent, where I
+intend to bury myself alive again as I did in Bedfordshire, unless you
+call me out and tell me I may be happy. Alas! how fain I would hope it,
+but I cannot, and should it ever happen, 'twould be long before I should
+believe 'twas meant for me in earnest, or that 'twas other than a dream.
+To say truth, I do not love to think on't, I find so many things to fear
+and so few to hope.
+
+'Tis better telling you that I will send my letters where you direct,
+that they shall be as long ones as possibly my time will permit, and
+when at any time you miss of one, I give you leave to imagine as many
+kind things as you please, and to believe I mean them all to you.
+
+Farewell.
+
+
+_Letter 59._--It is a little astonishing to read, as one does in this
+and the last letter, of race meetings, and Dorothy, habited in a mask,
+disporting herself at New Spring Gardens or in the Park. It opens one's
+eyes to the exaggerated gloom that has been thrown over England during
+the Puritan reign by those historians who have derived their information
+solely from State papers and proclamations. It is one thing to proclaim
+amusements, another to abolish them. The first was undoubtedly done,
+but we doubt if there was ever any long-continued effort to do the last;
+and in the latter part of Cromwell's reign the gloom, and the
+strait-laced regulations that caused it, must have almost entirely
+disappeared.
+
+Spring Gardens seems at one time to have had no very good reputation.
+Lady Alice Halkett, writing in 1644, tells us that "so scrupulous was I
+of giving any occasion to speak of me as I know they did of others, that
+though I loved well to see plays, and to walk in the Spring Gardens
+sometimes (before it grew something scandalous by the abuses of some),
+yet I cannot remember three times that ever I went with any man besides
+my brother." However, fashions change in ten years, and Spring Gardens
+is, doubtless, now quite demure and respectable, or we should not find
+Dorothy there. Spring Gardens was enclosed and laid out towards the end
+of the reign of James I. The clump of houses which still bears its name
+is supposed to indicate its position with tolerable exactness. Evelyn
+tells us that Cromwell shut up the Spring Gardens in 1600, and Knight
+thinks they were closed until the Restoration, in which small matter we
+may allow Dorothy to correct him. The fact of the old gardens having
+been closed may account for Dorothy referring to the place as "New
+Spring Gardens." Knight also quotes at second hand from an account of
+Spring Gardens, complaining that the author is unknown to him. This
+quotation is, however, from one of Somers' Tracts entitled "A Character
+of England as it was lately represented in a Letter to a Nobleman of
+France, 1659." The Frenchman by whom the letter is written--probably an
+English satirist in disguise--gives us such a graphic account of the
+Parks before the Restoration, that as the matter is fresh and bears upon
+the subject, I have no hesitation in quoting it at length:--
+
+"I did frequently in the spring accompany my Lord N. into a field near
+the town which they call Hyde Park,--the place not unpleasant, and which
+they use as our '_Course_,' but with nothing that order, equipage, and
+splendour; being such an assembly of wretched jades and hackney coaches,
+as, next to a regiment of car-men, there is nothing approaches the
+resemblance. The Park was, it seems, used by the late King and nobility
+for the freshness of the air and the goodly prospect, but it is that
+which now (besides all other exercises) they pay for here in England,
+though it be free in all the world beside; every coach and horse which
+enters buying his mouthful and permission of the publican who has
+purchased it, for which the entrance is guarded with porters and long
+staves.
+
+"The manner is, as the company returns, to stop at the Spring Gardens so
+called, in order to the Park as our _Thuilleries_ is to the _Course_;
+the inclosure not disagreeable for the solemnness of the groves, the
+warbling of the birds, and as it opens into the spacious walks of St.
+James. But the company walk in it at such a rate as you would think all
+the ladies were so many Atalantas contending with their wooers, and, my
+Lord, there was no appearance that I should prove the Hippomenes, who
+could with very much ado keep pace with them. But, as fast as they run,
+they stay there so long, as if they wanted not to finish the race, for
+it is usual here to find some of the young company till midnight, and
+the thickets of the garden seem to be contrived to all the advantages of
+gallantry after they have refreshed with the collation, which is here
+seldom omitted, at a certain cabaret in the middle of this paradise,
+where the forbidden fruits are certain trifling tarts, neats' tongues,
+salacious meats, and bad Rhenish, for which the gallants pay sauce, as
+indeed they do at all such houses throughout England; for they think it
+a piece of frugality beneath them to bargain or account for what they
+eat in any place, however unreasonably imposed upon."
+
+Dorothy is quite right in her correction concerning Will Spencer. He was
+the first Earl of Sunderland, and married Elizabeth, daughter of Lord
+Gerard.
+
+
+_June the 6th, 1654._
+
+I see you know how to punish me. In earnest, I was so frightened with
+your short letter as you cannot imagine, and as much troubled at the
+cause on't. What is it your father ails, and how long has he been ill?
+If my prayers are heard, he will not be so long. Why do you say I failed
+you? Indeed, I did not. Jane is my witness. She carried my letter to the
+White Hart, by St. James's, and 'twas a very long one too. I carried one
+thither since, myself, and the woman of the house was so very angry,
+because I desired her to have a care on't, that I made the coachman
+drive away with all possible speed, lest she should have beaten me. To
+say truth, I pressed her too much, considering how little the letter
+deserved it. 'Twas writ in such disorder, the company prating about me,
+and some of them so bent on doing me little mischiefs, that I know not
+what I did, and believe it was the most senseless, disjointed thing that
+ever was read.
+
+I remember now that I writ Robin Spencer instead of Will. 'Tis he that
+has married Mrs. Gerherd, and I admire their courage. She will have
+eight hundred pounds a year, 'tis true, after her mother's death; but
+how they will live till then I cannot imagine. I shall be even with you
+for your short letter. I'll swear they will not allow me time for
+anything, and to show how absolutely I am governed I need but tell you
+that I am every night in the Park and at New Spring Gardens, where,
+though I come with a mask, I cannot escape being known, nor my
+conversion being admired. Are you not in some fear what will become on
+me? These are dangerous courses. I do not find, though, that they have
+altered me yet. I am much the same person at heart I was in being
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 60._
+
+
+_June 13th_ [1654].
+
+You have satisfied me very much with this last long letter, and made
+some amends for the short one I received before. I am convinced, too,
+happiness is much such a kind of thing as you describe, or rather such a
+nothing. For there is no one thing can properly be called so, but every
+one is left to create it to themselves in something which they either
+have or would have; and so far it's well enough. But I do not like that
+one's happiness should depend upon a persuasion that this is happiness,
+because nobody knows how long they shall continue in a belief built upon
+no grounds, only to bring it to what you say, and to make it absolutely
+of the same nature with faith. We must conclude that nobody can either
+create or continue such a belief in themselves; but where it is there is
+happiness. And for my part at this present, I verily believe I could
+find it in the long walk at Dublin.
+
+You say nothing of your father's sickness, therefore I hope he is well
+again; for though I have a quarrel to him, it does not extend so far as
+to wish him ill. But he made no good return for the counsel I gave you,
+to say that there might come a time when my kindness might fail. Do not
+believe him, I charge you, unless you doubt yourself that you may give
+me occasion to change; and when he tells you so again, engage what you
+please upon't, and put it upon my account. I shall go out of town this
+week, and so cannot possibly get a picture drawn for you till I come up
+again, which will be within these six weeks, but not to make any stay at
+all. I should be glad to find you here then. I would have had one drawn
+since I came, and consulted my glass every morning when to begin; and to
+speak freely to you that are my friend, I could never find my face in a
+condition to admit on't, and when I was not satisfied with it myself, I
+had no reason to hope that anybody else should. But I am afraid, as you
+say, that time will not mend it, and therefore you shall have it as it
+is as soon as Mr. Cooper will vouchsafe to take the pains to draw it for
+you.
+
+I am in great trouble to think how I shall write out of Suffolk to you,
+or receive yours. However, do not fail to write, though they lie awhile.
+I shall have them at last, and they will not be the less welcome; and,
+though you should miss of some of mine, let it not trouble you; but if
+it be by my fault, I'll give you leave to demand satisfaction for it
+when you come. Jane kisses your hands, and says she will be ready in all
+places to do you service; but I'll prevent her, now you have put me into
+a jealous humour. I'll keep her in chains before she shall quit scores
+with me. Do not believe, sir, I beseech you, that the young heirs are
+for you; content yourself with your old mistress. You are not so
+handsome as Will Spencer, nor I have not so much courage nor wealth as
+his mistress, nor she has not so much as her aunt says by all the money.
+I shall not have called her his mistress now they have been married
+almost this fortnight.
+
+I'll write again before I leave the town, and should have writ more now,
+but company is come in. Adieu, my dearest.
+
+
+_Letter 61._--Lady Talmash was the eldest daughter of Mr. Murray,
+Charles I.'s page and whipping boy. She married Sir Lionel Talmash of
+Suffolk, a gentleman of noble family. After her father's death, she took
+the title of Countess of Dysart, although there was some dispute about
+the right of her father to any title. Bishop Burnet says: "She was a
+woman of great beauty, but of far greater parts. She had a wonderful
+quickness of apprehension, and an amazing vivacity in conversation. She
+had studied not only divinity and history, but mathematics and
+philosophy. She was violent in everything she set about,--a violent
+friend, but a much more violent enemy. She had a restless ambition,
+lived at a vast expense, and was ravenously covetous; and would have
+stuck at nothing by which she might compass her ends. She had been early
+in a correspondence with Lord Lauderdale, that had given occasion to
+censure. When he was a prisoner after Worcester fight, she made him
+believe he was in great danger of his life, and that she saved it by her
+intrigues with Cromwell, which was not a little taken notice of.
+Cromwell was certainly fond of her, and she took care to entertain him
+in it; till he, finding what was said upon it, broke it off. Upon the
+King's Restoration she thought that Lord Lauderdale made not those
+returns she expected. They lived for some years at a distance. But upon
+her husband's death she made up all quarrels; so that Lord Lauderdale
+and she lived so much together that his Lady was offended at it and went
+to Paris, where she died about three years after." This was in 1672, and
+soon afterwards Lady Dysart and Lord Lauderdale were married. She had
+great power over him, and employed it in trafficking with such State
+patronage as was in Lord Lauderdale's power to bestow.
+
+Cousin Hammond, who was going to take Ludlow's place in Ireland, would
+be the Colonel Robert Hammond who commanded Carisbrooke when the King
+was imprisoned there. He was one of a new council formed in August and
+sent into Ireland about the end of that month.
+
+Lady Vavasour was Ursula, daughter of Walter Gifford of Chillington,
+Staffordshire. Her husband was Sir Thomas Vavasour, Bart. The Vavasours
+were a Roman Catholic family, and claimed descent from those who held
+the ancient office of King's Valvasour; and we need not therefore be
+surprised to find Lady Vavasour engaged in one of the numerous plots
+that surrounded and endangered the Protector's power. The plot itself
+seems to have created intense excitement in the capital, and resulted in
+three persons being tried for high treason, and two executed,--John
+Gerard, gentleman, Peter Vowel, schoolmaster of Islington, and one
+Summerset Fox, who pleaded guilty, and whose life was spared. "Some wise
+men," writes one Thomas Gower in a contemporary letter (still
+unprinted), "believe that a couple of coy-ducks drew in the rest, then
+revealed all, and were employed to that purpose that the execution of a
+few mean persons might deter wiser and more considerable persons." This
+seems not improbable. On June 6th the official _Mercurius Politicus_
+speaks of this plot as follows:--"The traitorous conspiracy mentioned
+heretofore it appears every day more desperate and bloody. It is
+discovered that their design was to have destroyed his Highness's
+person, and all others at the helm of Government that they could have
+laid hands on. Immediately upon the villainous assassination, they
+intended to have proclaimed Charles Stuart by the assistance of a
+tumult," etc. etc. This with constant accounts of further arrests
+troubles the public mind at this time.
+
+The passage of Cowley which Dorothy refers to is in the second book of
+Cowley's _Davideis_. It opens with a description of the friendship
+between David and Jonathan, and, upon that occasion, a digression
+concerning the nature of love. The poem was written by Cowley when a
+young man at Cambridge. One can picture Dorothy reading and musing over
+lines like these with sympathy and admiration:
+
+          What art thou, love, thou great mysterious thing?
+          From what hid stock does thy strange nature spring?
+          'Tis thou that mov'st the world through ev'ry part,
+          And hold'st the vast frame close that nothing start
+          From the due place and office first ordained,
+          By thee were all things made and are sustained.
+          Sometimes we see thee fully and can say
+          From hence thou took'st thy rise and went'st that way,
+          But oft'ner the short beams of reason's eye
+          See only there thou art, not how, nor why.
+
+His lines on love, though overcharged with quaint conceits, are often
+noble and true, and end at least with one fine couplet:
+
+          Thus dost thou sit (like men e'er sin had framed
+          A guilty blush), naked but not ashamed.
+
+
+I promised in my last to write again before I went out of town, and now
+I'll be as good as my word. They are all gone this morning, and have
+left me much more at liberty than I have been of late, therefore I
+believe this will be a long letter; perhaps too long, at least if my
+letters are as little entertaining as my company is. I was carried
+yesterday abroad to a dinner that was designed for mirth, but it seems
+one ill-humoured person in the company is enough to put all the rest out
+of tune; for I never saw people perform what they intended worse, and
+could not forbear telling them so: but to excuse themselves and silence
+my reproaches, they all agreed to say that I spoiled their jollity by
+wearing the most unreasonable looks that could be put on for such an
+occasion. I told them I knew no remedy but leaving me behind next time,
+and could have told them that my looks were suitable to my fortune,
+though not to a feast. Fye! I am got into my complaining humour that
+tires myself as well as everybody else, and which (as you observe) helps
+not at all. Would it would leave me, and then I could believe I shall
+not always have occasion for it. But that's in nobody's power, and my
+Lady Talmash, that says she can do whatsoever she will, cannot believe
+whatsoever she pleases. 'Tis not unpleasant, methinks, to hear her talk,
+how at such a time she was sick and the physicians told her she would
+have the small-pox, and showed her where they were coming out upon her;
+but she bethought herself that it was not at all convenient for her to
+have them at that time; some business she had that required her going
+abroad, and so she resolved she would not be sick; nor was not. Twenty
+such stories as these she tells; and then falls into discoveries of
+strength of reason and the power of philosophy, till she confounds
+herself and all that hear her. You have no such ladies in Ireland?
+
+Oh me, but I heard to-day your cousin Hammond is going thither to be in
+Ludlow's place. Is it true? You tell me nothing what is done there, but
+'tis no matter. The less one knows of State affairs I find it is the
+better. My poor Lady Vavasour is carried to the Tower, and her great
+belly could not excuse her, because she was acquainted by somebody that
+there was a plot against the Protector, and did not discover it. She has
+told now all that was told her, but vows she will never say from whence
+she had it: we shall see whether her resolutions are as unalterable as
+those of my Lady Talmash. I wonder how she behaved herself when she was
+married. I never saw any one yet that did not look simply and out of
+countenance, nor ever knew a wedding well designed but one; and that was
+of two persons who had time enough I confess to contrive it, and nobody
+to please in't but themselves. He came down into the country where she
+was upon a visit, and one morning married her. As soon as they came out
+of the church they took coach and came for the town, dined at an inn by
+the way, and at night came into lodgings that were provided for them
+where nobody knew them, and where they passed for married people of
+seven years' standing.
+
+The truth is I could not endure to be Mrs. Bride in a public wedding, to
+be made the happiest person on earth. Do not take it ill, for I would
+endure it if I could, rather than fail; but in earnest I do not think it
+were possible for me. You cannot apprehend the formalities of a treaty
+more than I do, nor so much the success on't. Yet in earnest, your
+father will not find my brother Peyton wanting in civility (though he is
+not a man of much compliment, unless it be in his letters to me), nor an
+unreasonable person in anything, so he will allow him out of his
+kindness to his wife to set a higher value upon her sister than she
+deserves. I know not how he may be prejudiced as to the business, but he
+is not deaf to reason when 'tis civilly delivered, and is as easily
+gained with compliance and good usage as anybody I know, but by no other
+way. When he is roughly dealt with, he is like me, ten times the worse
+for't.
+
+I make it a case of conscience to discover my faults to you as fast as I
+know them, that you may consider what you have to do. My aunt told me no
+longer agone than yesterday that I was the most wilful woman that ever
+she knew, and had an obstinacy of spirit nothing could overcome. Take
+heed! you see I give you fair warning.
+
+I have missed a letter this Monday: What is the reason? By the next, I
+shall be gone into Kent, and my other journey is laid aside, which I am
+not displeased at, because it would have broken our intercourse very
+much.
+
+Here are some verses of Cowley's. Tell me how you like them. 'Tis only a
+piece taken out of a new thing of his; the whole is very long, and is a
+description of, or rather a paraphrase upon the friendship of David and
+Jonathan. 'Tis, I think, the best I have seen of his, and I like the
+subject because 'tis that I would be perfect in. Adieu.
+
+_Je suis vostre._
+
+
+_Letter 62._
+
+
+_June the 26th_ [1654].
+
+I told you in my last that my Suffolk journey was laid aside, and that
+into Kent hastened. I am beginning it to-day; and have chosen to go as
+far as Gravesend by water, though it be very gloomy weather. If I drown
+by the way, this will be my last letter; and, like a will, I bequeath
+all my kindness to you in it, with a charge never to bestow it all upon
+another mistress, lest my ghost rise again and haunt you. I am in such
+haste that I can say little else to you now. When you are come over,
+we'l' think where to meet, for at this distance I can design nothing;
+only I should be as little pleased with the constraint of my brother's
+house as you. Pray let me know whether your man leaves you, and how you
+stand inclined to him I offer you. Indeed, I like him extremely, and he
+is commended to me, by people that know him very well and are able to
+judge, for a most excellent servant, and faithful as possible. I'll keep
+him unengaged till I hear from you. Adieu.
+
+My next shall make amends for this short one.
+
+[_P.S._]--I received your last of June 22nd since I sealed up my letter,
+and I durst not but make an excuse for another short one, after you have
+chid me so for those you have received already; indeed, I could not help
+it, nor cannot now, but if that will satisfy I can assure you I shall
+make a much better wife than I do a husband, if I ever am one. _Pardon,
+mon Cher Coeur, on m'attend. Adieu, mon Ame. Je vous souhait tout ce que
+vous desire._
+
+
+_Letter 63._
+
+
+_July the 4th_ [1654].
+
+Because you find fault with my other letters, this is like to be shorter
+than they; I did not intend it so though, I can assure you. But last
+night my brother told me he did not send his till ten o'clock this
+morning, and now he calls for mine at seven, before I am up; and I can
+only be allowed time to tell you that I am in Kent, and in a house so
+strangely crowded with company that I am weary as a dog already, though
+I have been here but three or four days; that all their mirth has not
+mended my humour, and that I am here the same I was in other places;
+that I hope, merely because you bid me, and lose that hope as often as I
+consider anything but yours. Would I were easy of belief! they say one
+is so to all that one desires. I do not find it, though I am told I was
+so extremely when I believed you loved me. That I would not find, and
+you have only power to make me think it. But I am called upon. How fain
+I would say more; yet 'tis all but the saying with more circumstance
+than I am
+
+Yours.
+
+[Directed.] For your master.
+
+
+_Letter 64._
+
+
+I see you can chide when you please, and with authority; but I deserve
+it, I confess, and all I can say for myself is, that my fault proceeded
+from a very good principle in me. I am apt to speak what I think; and to
+you have so accustomed myself to discover all my heart that I do not
+believe it will ever be in my power to conceal a thought from you.
+Therefore I am afraid you must resolve to be vexed with all my senseless
+apprehensions as my brother Peyton is with some of his wife's, who is
+thought a very good woman, but the most troublesome one in a coach that
+ever was. We dare not let our tongues lie more on one side of our mouths
+than t'other for fear of overturning it. You are satisfied, I hope, ere
+this that I 'scaped drowning. However, 'tis not amiss that my will made
+you know now how to dispose of all my wealth whensoever I die. But I am
+troubled much you should make so ill a journey to so little purpose;
+indeed, I writ by the first post after my arrival here, and cannot
+imagine how you came to miss of my letters. Is your father returned yet,
+and do you think of coming over immediately? How welcome you will be.
+But, alas! I cannot talk on't at the rate that you do. I am sensible
+that such an absence is misfortune enough, but I dare not promise myself
+that it will conclude ours; and 'tis more my belief that you yourself
+speak it rather to encourage me, and to your wishes than your hopes.
+
+My humour is so ill at present, that I dare say no more lest you chide
+me again. I find myself fit for nothing but to converse with a lady
+below, that is fallen out with all the world because her husband and she
+cannot agree. 'Tis the pleasantest thing that can be to hear us
+discourse. She takes great pains to dissuade me from ever marrying, and
+says I am the veriest fool that ever lived if I do not take her counsel.
+Now we do not absolutely agree in that point, but I promise her never to
+marry unless I can find such a husband as I describe to her, and she
+believes is never to be found; so that, upon the matter, we differ very
+little. Whensoever she is accused of maintaining opinions very
+destructive of society, and absolutely prejudicial to all the young
+people of both sexes that live in the house, she calls out me to be her
+second, and by it has lost me the favour of all our young gallants, who
+have got a custom of expressing anything that is nowhere but in fiction
+by the name of "Mrs. O----'s husband." For my life I cannot beat into
+their heads a passion that must be subject to no decay, an even perfect
+kindness that must last perpetually, without the least intermission.
+They laugh to hear me say that one unkind word would destroy all the
+satisfaction of my life, and that I should expect our kindness should
+increase every day, if it were possible, but never lessen. All this is
+perfect nonsense in their opinion; but I should not doubt the convincing
+them if I could hope to be so happy as to be
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 65._--Of William Lilly, a noted and extraordinary character of
+that day, the following account is taken from his own _Life and Times_,
+a lively book, full of amusing lies and astrological gossip, in which
+the author describes himself as a student of the Black Art. He was born
+in 1602 at Diseworth, an obscure town in the north of Leicestershire.
+His family appear to have been yeomen in this town for many generations.
+Passing over the measles of his infancy, and other trivial details of
+childhood, which he describes minutely, we find him as a boy at
+Ashby-de-la-Zouche, where he is the pupil of one Mr. John Brinsley. Here
+he learned Latin and Greek, and began to study Hebrew. In the sixteenth
+year of his age he was greatly troubled with dreams concerning his
+damnation or salvation; and at the age of eighteen he returned to his
+father's house, and there kept a school in great penury. He then appears
+to have come up to London, leaving his father in a debtor's prison, and
+proceeded in pursuit of fortune with a new suit of clothes and seven
+shillings and sixpence in his pocket. In London he entered the service
+of one Gilbert Wright, an independent citizen of small means and smaller
+education. To him Lilly was both man-servant and secretary. The second
+Mrs. Wright seems to have had a taste for astrology, and consulted some
+of the quacks who then preyed on the silly women of the city. She was
+very fond of young Lilly, who attended her in her last illness, and, in
+return for his care and attention, she bequeathed to him several
+"sigils" or talismanic seals. Probably it was the foolishness of this
+poor woman that first suggested to Lilly the advantages to be gained
+from the profession of astrology. Mr. Wright married a third wife, and
+soon afterwards died, leaving his widow comfortably off. She fell in
+love with Lilly, who married her in 1627, and for five years, until her
+death, they lived happily together. Lilly was now a man of means, and
+was enabled to study that science which he afterwards practised with so
+much success. There were a good many professors of the black art at
+this date, and Lilly studied under one Evans, a scoundrelly ex-parson
+from Wales, until, according to Lilly's own account, he discovered Evans
+to be the cheat he undoubtedly was. Lilly, when he set up for himself,
+wrote many astrological works, which seem to have been very successful.
+He was known and visited by all the great men of the day, and probably
+had brains enough only to prophesy when he knew. His description of his
+political creed is beautifully characteristic of the man: "I was more
+Cavalier than Round-head, and so taken notice of; but afterwards I
+engaged body and soul in the cause of the Parliament, but still with
+much affection to his Majesty's person and unto Monarchy, which I ever
+loved and approved beyond any government whatsoever." Lilly was, in a
+word, a self-seeking but successful knave. People who had been robbed,
+women in love, men in debt, all in trouble and doubt, from the King
+downwards, sought his aid. He pretended to be a man of science, not a
+man gifted with supernatural powers. Whether he succeeded in believing
+in astrology and deceiving himself, it is impossible to say; he was
+probably too clever for that, but he deceived others admirably, and was
+one of the noted and most successful of the old astrologers.
+
+
+How long this letter will be I cannot tell. You shall have all the time
+that is allowed me, but upon condition that you shall not examine the
+sense on't too strictly, for you must know I want sleep extremely. The
+sun was up an hour before I went to bed to-day, and this is not the
+first time I have done this since I came hither. 'Twill not be for your
+advantage that I should stay here long; for, in earnest, I shall be good
+for nothing if I do. We go abroad all day and play all night, and say
+our prayers when we have time. Well, in sober earnest now, I would not
+live thus a twelvemonth to gain all that the King has lost, unless it
+were to give it him again. 'Tis a miracle to me how my brother endures
+it. 'Tis as contrary to his humour as darkness is to light, and only
+shows the power he lets his wife have over him. Will you be so
+good-natured? He has certainly as great a kindness for her as can be,
+and, to say truth, not without reason; but all the people that ever I
+saw, I do not like his carriage towards her. He is perpetually wrangling
+and finding fault, and to a person that did not know him would appear
+the worst husband and the most imperious in the world. He is so amongst
+his children too, though he loves them passionately. He has one son, and
+'tis the finest boy that e'er you saw, and has a noble spirit, but yet
+stands in that awe of his father that one word from him is as much as
+twenty whippings.
+
+You must give me leave to entertain you thus with discourses of the
+family, for I can tell you nothing else from hence. Yet, now I remember.
+I have another story for you. You little think I have been with Lilly,
+and, in earnest, I was, the day before I came out of town; and what do
+you think I went for? Not to know when you would come home, I can assure
+you, nor for any other occasion of my own; but with a cousin of mine
+that had long designed to make herself sport with him, and did not miss
+of her aim. I confess I always thought him an impostor, but I could
+never have imagined him so simple a one as we found him. In my life I
+never heard so ridiculous a discourse as he made us, and no old woman
+who passes for a witch could have been more puzzled to seek what to say
+to reasonable people than he was. He asked us more questions than we did
+him, and caught at everything we said without discerning that we abused
+him and said things purposely to confound him; which we did so perfectly
+that we made him contradict himself the strangest that ever you saw.
+Ever since this adventure, I have had so great a belief in all things of
+this nature, that I could not forbear laying a peas-cod with nine peas
+in't under my door yesterday, and was informed by it that my husband's
+name should be Thomas. How do you like that? But what Thomas, I cannot
+imagine, for all the servants I have got since I came hither I know none
+of that name.
+
+Here is a new song,--I do not send it to you but to your sister; the
+tune is not worth the sending so far. If she pleases to put any to it, I
+am sure it will be a better than it has here. Adieu.
+
+
+_Letter 66._--"The Lost Lady" is a tragi-comedy by Sir William Berkely,
+and is advertised to be sold at the shop of the Holy Lamb in the year
+1639, which we may take as the probable date of its publication. Dorothy
+would play Hermione, the heroine. We can imagine her speaking with
+sympathetic accent lines such as these:
+
+          With what harsh fate does Heaven afflict me
+          That all the blessings which make others happy,
+          Must be my ruin?
+
+The five Portugals to whom Dorothy refers as being hanged were the
+Portuguese ambassador's brother, Don Pantaleon Sa, and four of his men.
+The _Mercurius Politicus_ of November 1653 gives the following account
+of the matters that led to the execution; and as it is illustrative of
+the manners of the day, the account is here quoted at length:--
+
+"NEW EXCHANGE IN THE STRAND. _November 21._--In the evening there
+happened a quarrel between the Portugal ambassador's brother and two or
+three others of that nation with one Mr. Gerard, an English gentleman,
+whom they all fell upon; but he being rescued out of their hands by one
+Mr. Anstruther, they retired home, and within an hour after returned
+with about twelve more of their nation, armed with breastplates and
+headpieces; but after two or three hours taken there, not finding
+Anstruther, they went home again for that night.
+
+"_November 22._--At night the ambassador's brother and the rest returned
+again, and walking the upper Exchange, they met with one Col. Mayo, who,
+being a proper man, they supposed him to have been the same Anstruther
+that repelled them the night before; and so shooting off a pistol (which
+was as the watchword), the rest of the Portugals (supposed about fifty)
+came in with drawn swords, and leaving a sufficient number to keep the
+stairs, the rest went up with the ambassador's brother, and there they
+fell upon Col. Mayo, who, very gallantly defending himself, received
+seven dangerous wounds, and lies in a mortal condition. They fell also
+upon one Mr. Greenway, of Lincoln's Inn, as he was walking with his
+sister in one hand and his mistress in the other (to whom, as I am
+informed, he was to have been married on Tuesday next), and pistoled him
+in the head, whereof he died immediately. They brought with them several
+earthen jars stuffed with gunpowder, stopped with wax, and fitted with
+matches, intending, it seems, to have done some mischief to the Exchange
+that they might complete their revenge, but they were prevented."
+
+There is an account of their trial in the _State Trials_, of some
+interest to lawyers; it resulted in the execution of Don Pantaleon Sa
+and four of his servants. By one of those curious fateful coincidences,
+with which fact often outbids fiction, Mr. Gerard, who was the first
+Englishman attacked by the Portuguese, suffers on the same scaffold as
+his would-be murderers, his offence being high treason. Vowel, the other
+plotter, is also executed, but the third saves himself, as we know, by
+confession.
+
+
+_July 20th_ [1654 in pencil].
+
+I am very sorry I spoke too late, for I am confident this was an
+excellent servant. He was in the same house where I lay, and I had taken
+a great fancy to him, upon what was told me of him and what I saw. The
+poor fellow, too, was so pleased that I undertook to inquire out a place
+for him, that, though mine was, as I told him, uncertain, yet upon the
+bare hopes on't he refused two or three good conditions; but I shall set
+him now at liberty, and not think at all the worse of him for his
+good-nature. Sure you go a little too far in your condemnation on't. I
+know it may be abused, as the best things are most subject to be, but in
+itself 'tis so absolutely necessary that where it is wanting nothing can
+recompense the miss on't. The most contemptible person in the world, if
+he has that, cannot be justly hated, and the most considerable without
+it cannot deserve to be loved. Would to God I had all that good-nature
+you complain you have too much of, I could find ways enough to dispose
+on't amongst myself and my friends; but 'tis well where it is, and I
+should sooner wish you more on't than less.
+
+I wonder with what confidence you can complain of my short letters that
+are so guilty yourself in the same kind. I have not seen a letter this
+month which has been above half a sheet. Never trust me if I write more
+than you that live in a desolated country where you might finish a
+romance of ten tomes before anybody interrupted you--I that live in a
+house the most filled of any since the Ark, and where, I can assure
+[you], one has hardly time for the most necessary occasions. Well, there
+was never any one thing so much desired and apprehended at the same time
+as your return is by me; it will certainly, I think, conclude me a very
+happy or a most unfortunate person. Sometimes, methinks, I would fain
+know my doom whatever it be; and at others, I dread it so extremely,
+that I am confident the five Portugals and the three plotters which were
+t'other day condemned by the High Court of Justice had not half my fears
+upon them. I leave you to judge the constraint I live in, what alarms my
+thoughts give me, and yet how unconcerned this company requires I should
+be; they will have me at my part in a play, "The Lost Lady" it is, and I
+am she. Pray God it be not an ill omen!
+
+I shall lose my eyes and you this letter if I make it longer. Farewell.
+
+I am, yours.
+
+
+_Letter 67._--Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, was the daughter of James I.
+She married the Elector Frederick, who was driven from his throne owing
+to his own misconduct and folly, when his wife was forced to return and
+live as a pensioner in her native country. She is said to have been
+gifted in a superlative degree with all that is considered most lovely
+in a woman's character. On her husband's death in 1632 she went to live
+at the Hague, where she remained until the Restoration. There is a
+report that she married William, Earl of Craven, but there is no proof
+of this. He was, however, her friend and adviser through her years of
+widowhood, and it was to his house in Drury Lane that she returned to
+live in 1661. She is said to have been a lover of literature, and
+Francis Quarles and Sir Henry Wotton were her intimate friends. The
+latter has written some quaint and elegant verses to his mistress; the
+last verse, in which he apostrophizes her as the sun, is peculiarly
+graceful. It runs thus:
+
+          You meaner beauties of the night,
+            That poorly satisfy our eyes,
+          More by your number than your light,--
+            You common people of the skies,
+            What are you when the sun shall rise?
+
+But the sun is set, and the beautiful Queen's sad, romantic story almost
+forgotten.
+
+Sir John Grenvile was a son of the valiant and loyal cavalier, Sir Bevil
+Grenvile, of Kelkhampton, Cornwall. He served the King successfully in
+the west of England, and was dangerously wounded at Newbury. He was
+entrusted by Charles II. to negotiate with General Monk. Monk's brother
+was vicar of Kelkhampton, so that Grenvile and Monk would in all
+probability be well acquainted before the time of the negotiation. We
+may remember, too, that Dorothy's younger brother was on intimate terms
+with General Monk's relations in Cornwall.
+
+There must be letters missing here, for we cannot believe more than a
+month passed without Dorothy writing a single letter.
+
+
+I wonder you did not come before your last letter. 'Twas dated the 24th
+of August, but I received it not till the 1st of September. Would to God
+your journey were over! Every little storm of wind frights me so, that I
+pass here for the greatest coward that ever was born, though, in
+earnest, I think I am as little so as most women, yet I may be deceived,
+too, for now I remember me you have often told me I was one, and, sure,
+you know what kind of heart mine is better than anybody else.
+
+I am glad you are pleased with that description I made you of my humour,
+for, though you had disliked it, I am afraid 'tis past my power to help.
+You need not make excuses neither for yours; no other would please me
+half so well. That gaiety which you say is only esteemed would be
+insupportable to me, and I can as little endure a tongue that's always
+in motion as I could the click of a mill. Of all the company this place
+is stored with, there is but two persons whose conversation is at all
+easy; one is my eldest niece, who, sure, was sent into the world to show
+'tis possible for a woman to be silent; the other, a gentleman whose
+mistress died just when they should have married; and though 'tis many
+years since, one may read it in his face still. His humour was very
+good, I believe, before that accident, for he will yet say things
+pleasant enough, but 'tis so seldom that he speaks at all, and when he
+does 'tis with so sober a look, that one may see he is not moved at all
+himself when he diverts the company most. You will not be jealous though
+I say I like him very much. If you were not secure in me, you might be
+so in him. He would expect his mistress should rise again to reproach
+his inconstancy if he made court to anything but her memory. Methinks we
+three (that is, my niece, and he and I) do become this house the worst
+that can be, unless I should take into the number my brother Peyton
+himself too; for to say truth his, for another sort of melancholy, is
+not less than ours. What can you imagine we did this last week, when to
+our constant company there was added a colonel and his lady, a son of
+his and two daughters, a maid of honour to the Queen of Bohemia, and
+another colonel or a major, I know not which, besides all the tongue
+they brought with them; the men the greatest drinkers that ever I saw,
+which did not at all agree with my brother, who would not be drawn to it
+to save a kingdom if it lay at stake and no other way to redeem it? But,
+in earnest, there was one more to be pitied besides us, and that was
+Colonel Thornhill's wife, as pretty a young woman as I have seen. She is
+Sir John Greenvil's sister, and has all his good-nature, with a great
+deal of beauty and modesty, and wit enough. This innocent creature is
+sacrificed to the veriest beast that ever was. The first day she came
+hither he intended, it seems, to have come with her, but by the way
+called in to see an old acquaintance, and bid her go on, he would
+overtake her, but did not come till next night, and then so drunk he was
+led immediately to bed, whither she was to follow him when she had
+supped. I blest myself at her patience, as you may do that I could find
+anything to fill up this paper withal. Adieu.
+
+
+_Letter 68._--In this scrap of writing we find that Temple is again in
+England with certain proposals from his father, and ready to discuss the
+"treaty," as Dorothy calls it, with her brother Peyton. The few
+remaining letters deal with the treaty. Temple would probably return to
+London when he left Ireland, and letters would pass frequently between
+them. There seems to have been some hitch as to who should appear in
+the treaty. Dorothy's brother had spoken of and behaved to Temple with
+all disrespect, but, now that he is reconciled to the marriage, Dorothy
+would have him appear, at least formally, in the negotiations. The last
+letter of this chapter, which is dated October 2nd, calls on Temple to
+come down to Kent, to Peyton's house; and it is reasonable to suppose
+that at this interview all was practically settled to the satisfaction
+of those two who were most deeply concerned in the negotiation.
+
+
+I did so promise myself a letter on Friday that I am very angry I had it
+not, though I know you were not come to town when it should have been
+writ. But did not you tell me you should not stay above a day or two?
+What is it that has kept you longer? I am pleased, though, that you are
+out of the power of so uncertain things as the winds and the sea, which
+I never feared for myself, but did extremely apprehend for you. You will
+find a packet of letters to read, and maybe have met with them already.
+If you have, you are so tired that 'tis but reasonable I should spare
+you in this. For, [to] say truth, I have not time to make this longer;
+besides that if I had, my pen is so very good that it writes an
+invisible hand, I think; I am sure I cannot read it myself. If your eyes
+are better, you will find that I intended to assure you I am
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 69._
+
+
+I am but newly waked out of an unquiet sleep, and I find it so late that
+if I write at all it must be now. Some company that was here last night
+kept us up till three o'clock, and then we lay three in a bed, which was
+all the same to me as if we had not gone to bed at all. Since dinner
+they are all gone, and our company with them part of the way, and with
+much ado I got to be excused, that I might recover a little sleep, but
+am so moped yet that, sure, this letter will be nonsense.
+
+I would fain tell you, though, that your father is mistaken, and that
+you are not, if you believe that I have all the kindness and tenderness
+for you my heart is capable of. Let me assure you (whatever your father
+thinks) that had you L20,000 a year I could love you no more than I do,
+and should be far from showing it so much lest it should look like a
+desire of your fortune, which, as to myself, I value as little as
+anybody in the world, and in this age of changes; but certainly I know
+what an estate is. I have seen my father's reduced, better than L4000,
+to not L400 a year, and I thank God I never felt the change in anything
+that I thought necessary. I never wanted, nor am confident I never
+shall. But yet, I would not be thought so inconsiderate a person as not
+to remember that it is expected from all people that have sense that
+they should act with reason, that to all persons some proportion of
+fortune is necessary, according to their several qualities, and though
+it is not required that one should tie oneself to just so much, and
+something is left for one's inclination, and the difference in the
+persons to make, yet still within such a compass,--and such as lay more
+upon these considerations than they will bear, shall infallibly be
+condemned by all sober persons. If any accident out of my power should
+bring me to necessity though never so great, I should not doubt with
+God's assistance but to bear it as well as anybody, and I should never
+be ashamed on't if He pleased to send it me; but if by my own folly I
+had put it upon myself, the case would be extremely altered. If ever
+this comes to a treaty, I shall declare that in my own choice I prefer
+you much before any other person in the world, and all that this
+inclination in me (in the judgment of any persons of honour and
+discretion) will bear, I shall desire may be laid upon it to the
+uttermost of what they can allow. And if your father please to make up
+the rest, I know nothing that is like to hinder me from being yours. But
+if your father, out of humour, shall refuse to treat with such friends
+as I have, let them be what they will, it must end here; for though I
+was content, for your sake, to lose them, and all the respect they had
+for me, yet, now I have done that, I'll never let them see that I have
+so little interest in you and yours as not to prevail that my brother
+may be admitted to treat for me. Sure, when a thing of course and so
+much reason as that (unless I did disclose to all the world he were my
+enemy), it must be expected whensoever I dispose of myself he should be
+made no stranger to it. When that shall be refused me, I may be justly
+reproached that I deceived myself when I expected to be at all valued in
+a family that I am a stranger to, or that I should be considered with
+any respect because I had a kindness for you, that made me not value my
+own interests.
+
+I doubt much whether all this be sense or not; I find my head so heavy.
+But that which I would say is, in short, this: if I did say once that my
+brother should have nothing to do in't, 'twas when his carriage towards
+me gave me such an occasion as could justify the keeping that distance
+with him; but now it would look extremely unhandsome in me, and, sure, I
+hope your father would not require it of me. If he does, I must conclude
+he has no value for me, and, sure, I never disobliged him to my
+knowledge, and should, with all the willingness imaginable, serve him if
+it lay in my power.
+
+Good God! what an unhappy person am I. All the world is so almost. Just
+now they are telling me of a gentleman near us that is the most wretched
+creature made (by the loss of a wife that he passionately loved) that
+can be. If your father would but in some measure satisfy my friends that
+I might but do it in any justifiable manner, you should dispose me as
+you pleased, carry me whither you would, all places of the world would
+be alike to me where you were, and I should not despair of carrying
+myself so towards him as might deserve a better opinion from him.
+
+I am yours.
+
+
+_Letter 70._
+
+
+My doubts and fears were not at all increased by that which gives you so
+many, nor did I apprehend that your father might not have been prevailed
+with to have allowed my brother's being seen in the treaty; for as to
+the thing itself, whether he appears in't or not, 'twill be the same. He
+cannot but conclude my brother Peyton would not do anything in it
+without the others' consent.
+
+I do not pretend to any share in your father's kindness, as having
+nothing in me to merit it; but as much a stranger as I am to him, I
+should have taken it very ill if I had desired it of him, and he had
+refused it me. I do not believe my brother has said anything to his
+prejudice, unless it were in his persuasions to me, and there it did not
+injure him at all. If he takes it ill that my brother appears so very
+averse to the match, I may do so too, that he was the same; and nothing
+less than my kindness for you could have made me take so patiently as I
+did his saying to some that knew me at York that he was forced to bring
+you thither and afterwards to send you over lest you should have married
+me. This was not much to my advantage, nor hardly civil, I think, to any
+woman; yet I never so much as took the least notice on't, nor had not
+now, but for this occasion; yet, sure, it concerns me to be at least as
+nice as he in point of honour. I think 'tis best for me to end here lest
+my anger should make me lose that respect I would always have for your
+father, and 'twere not amiss, I think, that I devoted it all towards you
+for being so idle as to run out of your bed to catch such a cold.
+
+If you come hither you must expect to be chidden so much that you will
+wish that you had stayed till we came up, when perhaps I might have
+almost forgot half my quarrel to you. At this present I can assure you I
+am pleased with nobody but your sister, and her I love extremely, and
+will call her pretty; say what you will, I know she must be so, though I
+never saw more of her than what her letters show. She shall have two
+"spots" [carriage dogs] if she please (for I had just such another given
+me after you were gone), or anything else that is in the power of
+
+Yours.
+
+
+_Letter 71._
+
+
+_Monday, October the 2nd_ [1654].
+
+After a long debate with myself how to satisfy you and remove that rock
+(as you call it), which in your apprehensions is of so great danger, I
+am at last resolved to let you see that I value your affections for me
+at as high a rate as you yourself can set it, and that you cannot have
+more of tenderness for me and my interests than I shall ever have for
+yours. The particulars how I intend to make this good you shall know
+when I see you; which since I find them here more irresolute in point of
+time (though not as to the journey itself) than I hoped they would have
+been, notwithstanding your quarrel to me, and the apprehension you would
+make me believe you had that I do not care to see you, pray come hither
+and try whether you shall be welcome or not! In sober earnest now I must
+speak with you; and to that end if your occasions will [serve] come down
+to Canterbury. Send some one when you are there, and you shall have
+further directions.
+
+You must be contented not to stay here above two or three hours. I shall
+tell you my reason when you come. And pray inform yourself of all that
+your father will do on this occasion, that you may tell it me only;
+therefore let it be plainly and sincerely what he intends and all.
+
+I will not hinder your coming away so much as the making this letter a
+little longer might take away from your time in reading it. 'Tis enough
+to tell you I am ever
+
+Yours.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE END OF THE THIRD VOLUME
+
+
+This short series of notes was written, I think, during a visit to
+London after the formal betrothal and before the marriage. These notes
+were evidently written upon the trivial occasions of the day, more
+perhaps for the sake of writing something than for any more serious
+reason. The note in French is somewhat of a curiosity on account of its
+quaint orthography, which is purposely left uncorrected. Was Dorothy in
+London to purchase her _trousseau_? Where did she and Jane spend their
+days, if that was the case, when Regent Street was green fields? These
+questions cannot be satisfactorily answered; but the notes themselves,
+without any history or explanation, are so full of interest, so fresh
+and vivacious, even for Dorothy, that they place themselves from the
+freedom and joy of their style and manner at the end of the third
+volume.
+
+
+You are like to have an excellent housewife of me; I am abed still, and
+slept so soundly, nothing but your letter could have waked me. You shall
+hear from me as soon as we have dined. Farewell; can you endure that
+word? No, out upon't. I'll see you anon.
+
+
+Fye upon't I shall grow too good now, I am taking care to know how your
+worship slept to-night; better I hope than you did the last. Send me word
+how you do, and don't put me off with a bit of a note now; you could
+write me a fine long letter when I did not deserve it half so well.
+
+
+You are mistaken if you think I am in debt for both these days. Saturday
+I confess was devoted to my Lady; but yesterday, though I ris with good
+intentions of going to church, my cold would not suffer me, but kept me
+prisoner all the day. I went to your lodging to tell you that visiting
+the sick was part of the work of the day, but you were gone, and so I
+went to bed again, where your letter found me this morning. But now I
+will rise and despatch some visits that I owe, that to-morrow may be
+entirely yours.
+
+
+I find my conscience a little troubled till I have asked your pardon for
+my ill-humour last night. Will you forgive it me; in earnest, I could
+not help it, but I met with a cure for it; my brother kept me up to hear
+his learned lecture till after two o'clock, and I spent all my
+ill-humour upon him, and yet we parted very quietly, and look'd as if a
+little good fortune might make us good friends; but your special friend,
+my elder brother, I have a story to tell you of him. Will my cousin F.
+come, think you? Send me word, it maybe 'twas a compliment; if I can see
+you this morning I will, but I dare not promise it.
+
+
+SIR,--This is to tell you that you will be expected to-morrow morning
+about nine o'clock at a lodging over against the place where Charinge
+Crosse stood, and two doors above Ye Goate Taverne; if with these
+directions you can find it out, you will there find one that is very
+much
+
+Your servant.
+
+
+Now I have got the trick of breaking my word, I shall do it every day. I
+must go to Roehampton to-day, but 'tis all one, you do not care much for
+seeing me. Well, my master, remember last night you swaggered like a
+young lord. I'll make your stomach come down; rise quickly, you had
+better, and come hither that I may give you a lesson this morning before
+I go.
+
+
+Je n'ay guere plus dormie que vous et mes songes n'ont pas estres moins
+confuse, au rest une bande de violons que sont venu jouer sous ma
+fennestre, m'out tourmentes de tel facon que je doubt fort si je
+pourrois jamais les souffrire encore, je ne suis pourtant pas en fort
+mauvaise humeur et je m'en-voy ausi tost que je serai habillee voire ce
+qu'il est posible de faire pour vostre sattisfaction, apres je viendre
+vous rendre conte de nos affairs et quoy qu'il en sera vous ne scaurois
+jamais doubte que je ne vous ayme plus que toutes les choses du monde.
+
+
+I have slept as little as you, and may be allowed to talk as
+unreasonably, yet I find I am not quite senseless; I have a heart still
+that cannot resolve to refuse you anything within its power to grant.
+But, Lord, when shall I see you? People will think me mad if I go abroad
+this morning after having seen me in the condition I was in last night,
+and they will think it strange to see you here. Could you not stay till
+they are all gone to Roehampton? they go this morning. I do but ask,
+though do what you please, only believe you do a great injustice if you
+think me false. I never resolv'd to give you an eternal farewell, but I
+resolv'd at the same time to part with all the comfort of my life, and
+whether I told it you or not I shall die yours.
+
+Tell me what you will have me do.
+
+
+Here comes the note again to tell you I cannot call on you to-night; I
+cannot help it, and you must take it as patiently as you can, but I am
+engaged to-night at the Three Rings to sup and play. Poor man, I am
+sorry for you; in earnest, I shall be quite spoiled. I see no remedy;
+think whether it were not best to leave me and begin a new adventure.
+
+
+And now we have finished. Dorothy Osborne is passing away, will soon be
+translated into Dorothy Temple; with the romance of her life all past
+history, and fast becoming as much a romance to herself, as it seems to
+us, looking back at it after more than two centuries. Something it is
+becoming to her over which she can muse and dream and weave into tales
+for the children who will gather round her. Something the reality of
+which will grow doubtful to her, if she find idle hours for dreaming and
+doubting in her new name. Her last lover's letter is written. We are
+ready for the marriage ceremony, and listen for the wedding march and
+happy jingle of village bells; or if we may not have these in Puritan
+days, at least we may hear the pompous magistrate pronounce the blessing
+of the State over its two happy subjects. But no! There is yet a moment
+of suspense, a last trial to the lover's constancy. The bride is taken
+dangerously ill, so dangerously ill that the doctors rejoice when the
+disease pronounces itself to be small-pox. Alas! who shall now say what
+are the inmost thoughts of our Dorothy? Does she not need all her faith
+in her lover, in herself, ay, and in God, to uphold her in this new
+affliction? She rises from her bed, her beauty of face destroyed; her
+fair looks living only on the painter's canvas, unless we may believe
+that they were etched in deeply bitten lines on Temple's heart. But the
+skin beauty is not the firmest hold she has on Temple's affections; this
+was not the beauty that had attracted her lover and held him enchained
+in her service for seven years of waiting and suspense; this was not the
+only light leading him through dark days of doubt, almost of despair,
+constant, unwavering in his troth to her. Other beauty not outward, of
+which we, too, may have seen something, mirrowed darkly in these
+letters; which we, too, as well as Temple, may know existed in Dorothy.
+For it is not beauty of face and form, but of what men call the soul,
+that made Dorothy to Temple, in fact as she was in name,--the gift of
+God.
+
+
+
+
+Appendix
+
+LADY TEMPLE
+
+
+Of Lady Temple there is very little to be known, and what there is can
+be best understood by following the career of her husband, which has
+been written at some length, and with laboured care, by Mr. Courtenay.
+After her marriage, which took place in London, January 31st, 1655, they
+lived for a year at the home of a friend in the country. They then
+removed to Ireland, where they lived for five years with Temple's
+father; Lady Giffard, Temple's widowed sister, joining them. In 1663
+they were living in England. Lady Giffard continued to live with them
+through the rest of their lives, and survived them both. In 1665 Temple
+was sent to Brussels as English representative, and his family joined
+him in the following year. In 1668 he was removed from Brussels to the
+Hague, where the successful negotiations which led to the Triple
+Alliance took place, and these have given him an honourable place in
+history. There is a letter of Lady Temple's, written to her husband in
+1670, which shows how interested she was in the part he took in
+political life, and how he must have consulted her in all State
+matters. It is taken from Courtenay's _Life of Sir William Temple_,
+vol. i. p. 345. He quotes it as the only letter written after Lady
+Temple's marriage which has come into his hands.
+
+
+THE HAGUE, _October 31st, 1670_.
+
+My Dearest Heart,--I received yours from Yarmouth, and was very glad you
+made so happy a passage. 'Tis a comfortable thing, when one is on this
+side, to know that such a thing can be done in spite of contrary winds.
+I have a letter from P., who says in character that you may take it from
+him that the Duke of Buckingham has begun a negotiation there, but what
+success in England he may have he knows not; that it were to be wished
+our politicians at home would consider well that there is no trust to be
+put in alliances with ambitious kings, especially such as make it their
+fundamental maxim to be base. These are bold words, but they are his
+own. Besides this, there is nothing but that the French King grows very
+thrifty, that all his buildings, except fortifications, are ceased, and
+that his payments are not so regular as they used to be. The people here
+are of another mind; they will not spare their money, but are
+resolved--at least the States of Holland--if the rest will consent, to
+raise fourteen regiments of foot and six of horse; that all the
+companies, both old and new, shall be of 120 men that used to be of 50,
+and every troop 80 that used to be of 45. Nothing is talked of but these
+new levies, and the young men are much pleased. Downton says they have
+strong suspicions here you will come back no more, and that they shall
+be left in the lurch; that something is striking up with France, and
+that you are sent away because you are too well inclined to these
+countries; and my cousin Temple, he says, told him that a nephew of Sir
+Robert Long's, who is lately come to Utrecht, told my cousin Temple,
+three weeks since, you were not to stay long here, because you were too
+great a friend to these people, and that he had it from Mr. Williamson,
+who knew very well what he said. My cousin Temple says he told it to
+Major Scott as soon as he heard it, and so 'tis like you knew it before;
+but there is such a want of something to say that I catch at everything.
+I am my best dear's most affectionate
+
+D.T.
+
+
+In the summer of 1671 there occurred an incident that reminds us
+considerably of the Dorothy Osborne of former days. The Triple Alliance
+had lost some of its freshness, and was not so much in vogue as
+heretofore. Charles II. had been coquetting with the French King, and at
+length the Government, throwing off its mask, formally displaced Temple
+from his post in Holland. "The critical position of affairs," says
+Courtenay, "induced the Dutch to keep a fleet at sea, and the English
+Government hoped to draw from that circumstance an occasion of quarrel.
+A yacht was sent for Lady Temple; the captain had orders to sail through
+the Dutch fleet if he should meet it, and to fire into the nearest ships
+until they should either strike sail to the flag which he bore, or
+return his shot so as to make a quarrel!
+
+"He saw nothing of the Dutch Fleet in going over, but on his return he
+fell in with it, and fired, without warning and ceremony, into the ships
+that were next him.
+
+"The Dutch admiral, Van Ghent, was puzzled; he seemed not to know, and
+probably did not know, what the English captain meant; he therefore sent
+a boat, thinking it possible that the yacht might be in distress; when
+the captain told his orders, mentioning also that he had the
+ambassadress on board. Van Ghent himself then came on board, with a
+handsome compliment to Lady Temple, and, making his personal inquiries
+of the captain, received the same answer as before. The Dutchman said he
+had no orders upon the point, which he rightly believed to be still
+unsettled, and could not believe that the fleet, commanded by an
+admiral, was to strike to the King's pleasure-boat.
+
+"When the Admiral returned to his ship, the captain also, 'perplexed
+enough,' applied to Lady Temple, who soon saw that he desired to get out
+of his difficulty by her help; but the wife of Sir William Temple called
+forth the spirit of Dorothy Osborne. 'He knew,' she told the captain,
+'his orders best, and what he was to do upon them, which she left to
+him to follow as he thought fit, without any regard to her or her
+children.' The Dutch and English commanders then proceeded each upon his
+own course, and Lady Temple was safely landed in England."
+
+There is an account of this incident in a letter of Sir Charles
+Lyttelton to Viscount Hatton, in the Hatton Correspondence. He tells us
+that the poor captain, Captain Crow of _The Monmouth_, "found himself in
+the Tower about it;" but he does not add any further information as to
+the part which Dorothy played in the matter.
+
+After their retirement to Sheen and Moor Park, Surrey, we know nothing
+distinctively of Lady Temple, and little is known of their family life.
+They had only two children living, having lost as many as seven in their
+infancy. In 1684 one of these children, their only daughter, died of
+small-pox; she was buried in Westminster Abbey. There is a letter of
+hers written to her father which shows some signs of her mother's
+affectionate teaching, and which we cannot forbear to quote. It is
+copied from Courtenay, vol. ii. p. 113.
+
+
+SIR,--I deferred writing to you till I could tell you that I had
+received all my fine things, which I have just now done; but I thought
+never to have done giving you thanks for them. They have made me so very
+happy in my new clothes, and everybody that comes does admire them above
+all things, but yet not so much as I think they deserve; and now, if
+papa was near, I should think myself a perfect pope, though I hope I
+should not be burned as there was one at Nell Gwyn's door the 5th of
+November, who was set in a great chair, with a red nose half a yard
+long, with some hundreds of boys throwing squibs at it. Monsieur Gore
+and I agree mighty well, and he makes me believe I shall come to
+something at last; that is if he stays, which I don't doubt but he will,
+because all the fine ladies will petition for him. We are got rid of the
+workmen now, and our house is ready to entertain you. Come when you
+please, and you will meet nobody more glad to see you than your most
+obedient and dutiful daughter,
+
+D. TEMPLE.
+
+
+Temple's son, John Temple, married in 1685 a rich heiress in France, the
+daughter of Monsieur Duplessis Rambouillet, a French Protestant; he
+brought his wife to live at his father's house at Sheen. After King
+William and Queen Mary were actually placed on the throne, Sir William
+Temple, in 1689, permitted his son to accept the office of Secretary at
+War. For reasons now obscure and unknowable, he drowned himself in the
+Thames within a week of his acceptance of office, leaving this writing
+behind him:--
+
+"My folly in undertaking what I was not able to perform has done the
+King and kingdom a great deal of prejudice. I wish him all happiness and
+abler servants than John Temple."
+
+The following letter was written on that occasion by Lady Temple to
+her nephew, Sir John Osborne. The original of it is at Chicksands:--
+
+
+_To Sir John Osborne, thanking him for his
+consolation on the death of her son._
+
+SHEEN, _May 6th, 1689_.
+
+Dear Nephew,--I give you many thanks for your kind letter and the sense
+you have of my affliction, which truly is very great. But since it is
+laid upon me by the hand of an Almighty and Gracious God, that always
+proportions His punishments to the support He gives with them, I may
+hope to bear it as a Christian ought to do, and more especially one that
+is conscious to herself of having many ways deserved it. The strange
+revolution we have seen might well have taught me what this world is,
+yet it seems it was necessary that I should have a near example of the
+uncertainty of all human blessings, that so having no tie to the world I
+may the better prepare myself to leave it; and that this correction may
+suffice to teach me my duty must be the prayer of your affectionate aunt
+and humble servant,
+
+D. TEMPLE.
+
+
+During the remaining years of her life, Lady Temple was honoured, to use
+the conventional phrase, by the friendship of Queen Mary, and there is
+said to have been a continuous correspondence between them, though I can
+find on inquiry no trace of its existence at the present day.
+
+Early in the year 1695, after forty years of married life, and in the
+sixty-seventh year of her age, she died. She lies, with her husband and
+children, on the north side of the nave of Westminster Abbey, close to
+the little door that leads to the organ gallery.
+
+          Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,
+          And her immortal part with angels lives.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOVE LETTERS OF DOROTHY OSBORNE
+TO SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, 1652-54***
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