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diff --git a/old/12544.txt b/old/12544.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2950a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12544.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8297 @@ +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*** + + +******* This file should be named 12544.txt or 12544.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/5/4/12544 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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