|»PP|&h:'..'' -■/■ pW5l:;;::dr::■■:•■ Siij?iwlw K -> ^ 8 \ ^ -^> ,^i '^'^'" ^<^%- ^ ^^ " . ^ ,^ "•i-. •^ ^^^. K, -^ ^ ^0^ ^ -- ., -^ ^- -^ ■■■■' ^ / evim^l letters, ^ FROM Dr. HARTLEY, Dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON, Mrs. MONTAGUE, Rev. WILLIAM GILPIN, RICHARD BAXTER, MATTHEW PRIOR, LORD BOLINGBROKE, ALEXANDER POPE, Dr. CHEYNE, GEORGE LORD LYTTLETON, Rev. JOHN NEWTON, Rev. Dr. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN, &c. &c. WITH BIOGRAPHICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. EDITED BY REBECCA WARNER, Of Beech Cottage, near Bath. Blest be the gracious Powers, who taught mankind To stamp a lasting image of the mind ! Beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing, Their mutual feelings in the op'ning spiing; But Man alone has skill and pow'r to send The heai't's warm dictates to the distant friend : Tis his alone to please, instruct, advise, Ages remote, and nations yet to rise. Crahbe's Library. PRINTED BT KICHARD CRUTTWELL, ST. JAMES's-STREET, BATH ; AND SOLD BY 1.0NGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATER- NOSTER-ROW, LONDON. 1817. \ TO THE READER. 'THHE only merit to which the Editor of a work^ like the following series of Let- ters, can possibly pretend, must arise, from industry in collecting materials, and some little exercise of judgment in selecting such, from among them as deserved to be presented to the public. As the Editor of the present publication has been aided, in both these respects, by the kindness of friends equally obliging and judicious, she flatters herself that this humble claim will be readily con- ceded to her. Nor can she doubt, that the Letters themselves will afford much gratifi*. cation to those into whose hands they may happen to fall ; since they were written, for the most part, by characters, who, in their time, stood high in the roll of literary fame ; [ iv ] or have been remarkable for talent, piety, or usefulness in their generation. Of there being all genuine, there is every moral cer- tainty : and that, with a very few excep- tions, they have never before been published, the Editor has every reason to believe. To the greater part of them are prefixed the rnames of those by whom they were written^ as well as of the persons to whom they were addressed. In some, however, the names of the writer or correspondent are omitted ; either because they could not be given with absolute confidence, or because motives of delicacy in the friends who communicated such letters, made them hesitate to allow the publication of the signatures of those, who, when alive, might, possibly, have shrunk from the idea of appearing before the world vmder the character of authors. CONTENTS. X£TTEK PAGE BIOGRAPHICAL Illustration of Richard Baxter 1 I. From Richard Baxter to Dr. Allestree - - 4 Biographical Illustration of Matthew Prior - 11 II. From M. Prior to Lord Townshend - - - 13 Biographical Illustration of Lord Bolingbroke - 14 III. From Lord Bolingbroke to Sir Wm. Wyndham - 18 IV. From ditto to ditto ----- 24 V. From ditto to Sir Charles Wyndham - - 27 VI. From ditto to ditto 32 Biographical Illustration of Alexander Pope - 35 VII. From Mr. Pope to Wm. Fortescue, efqj - 3/ VIII. From Mr. Gay and Pope to ditto - - - 39 IX. From Mr. Pope to ditto - - - - 41 X. From ditto to ditto ----- 43 XI. From ditto to ditto - - - - - 44 XII. From ditto to ditto 45 XIII. From ditto to ditto - - - - - 47 XIV. From ditto to ditto 49 XV. From ditto to ditto - - - - - 50 XVL From ditto to ditto - - - - - 51 XVII. From ditto to ditto - - - - ^ 53 XVIII. From ditto to ditto .^ ^ - ^ - 55 XIX. From ditto to ditto - - - - - 5S 8(5 y[ CONTENTS. LETTER ^^^® Biographical Illustration of Dr. G. Cheyne 60 XX. Frcm Dr. Cheyne to Mr. Richardson - 63 XX [. From ditto to ditto . . m 65 XXIL From ditto to ditto - - - - 70 XXIII. From ditto to ditto ^ - - 75 XXIV. From ditto to ditto - - - - 78 XXV. From ditto to ditto _ - - - 8S XXVI. From *** to ditto, containing an Accoiint of Dr. Cheyne's Death Biographical Illustration of Dr. Hartley, David Hartley, and Mrs. M. Hartley - 69 XXVII. From Mrs. M. Hartley to the Rev. Wm. Gilpin, enclosing two Letters of her Father's - - - - " '9^ XXVIII. From Dr. Hartley to his Sister Mrs. Booth 97 XXIX. From ditto to ditto - - XXX. From Mrs. H. to the Rev. AVm. Gilpin, containing some Account of her Father's Life - - - - XXXI. From Dr. Hartley to his Son David Hart- ley, when setting out on his Travels - 1 1 1 Biographical lllus'ration of H. A. Pistorius 121 XXXII. From *^* to H. A. Pistorius, containing a brief Analysis of Dr. Hartley's Work - 122 XXXIII. From Dr. Franklin to David Hartley, efq} 137 Biographical Ilkistration of the Rev. Wra. Gilpin ------ 14,1 XXXIV. From the Rev. Wm. Gilpin to Mrs. M. Hartley ....-- 143 XXXV. From ditto to ditto " ' ' ' ^^^ XXXVI. From ditto to ditto - - XXXVIl. From ditto to ditto - - - ' ' XXXVIII. From Mrs. M. H. to the Rev. Wm. Gilpin 99 102 J 48 150 153 CONTENTS. Vll LETTER PAGtf XXXVIII. From Mrs. M. H. to the Rev. Wm. Gilpin 153 XXXIX. From ditto to ditto l63 XL. From the Rev. Wm. Gilpin to *** -- - 167 XLI. From ditto to ditto 169 XLII. From ditto to ditto - - ,- - - 171 XLIII. From ditto to ditto - - - - - 172 XLIV. From ditto to ditto - - - - - 1 73 Biographical illustration of Joseph Ameen - 175 XLV. From Joseph Ameen to the Earl of Nor- thumberland - - - - 18D XLVI. From ditto to Prince Heraclius ?. - - 185 XLV II. From ditto to his Father - - - - ]C|3 Biographical Illustration of Dr. Sam. Johnson and Joseph Fowke, esq; - - - - 202 XL VIII. From Dr. Sara. Johnson to Francis Fowke, esq; 205 LII. From ditto to Joseph Fowke, esq; L. From ditto to Samuel Richardson LI. From Joseph Fowke, esq; to * "^ LIL From ditto to ditto - - - . - LIII. From Joseph Fowke, esq; - . - LIV. From ditto LV. From ditto - , - - . Biographical Illustration of Mrs. Montague - LVI. From Mrs. Montague to Mrs. Hartley J. VII. From Mrs. Hartley to ***, on the Death of Mrs. Montague - - . - . Biographical Illustration of the Rev. Dr. Jeans LVIII. From the Rev. Joshua Jeans to a Young Man on entering into Orders - - - - LIX, From the Rev. Dr. Jeans to ***, giving an Account of the Catastrophe at Leyden Biographical Illustration of the Rev. J. Newton ------. 207 209 210 226 217 219 224. 228 231 233 236 240 ' 243 249 y-jji CONTENTS. «• PAGE LETTER LX. From the Rev. J. Newton to Capt. and Mrs. Hansard - ' " Reference to the Rev. Dr. Buchannan's Life 255 LXI. From Dr. C. Buchannan to *** ' - - 256 LXII. From the same to the same - - 53 LXIII. From ditto to T— E , esq; sen. - - i^J LXIV. From ditto to Miss E LXV. From ditto to T E , esq; sen. - : 2/0 LXVI. From ditto to Mrs. E. ... - 272 Gharader of Voltaire, by Frederick 2d, King " 270 of Prussia - - " " " " i ' Biographical Illustration of George Lord Lyttleton -----"' LXVn. From Voltaire to George Lord Lyttleton - 280 LXVIII. From Lord Lyttleton to Voltaire- - r 282 Houghton Piftures , •. - • LXIX. *** to *** - - " - - LXX. From Dr. Glass to **« - - ' ' ^^^ I.XXL From the Rev. W. Jones, of Nayland, tp 299 282 284 287 ORIGINAL LETTERS, &c. RICHARD BAXTER. Richard Baxter, the author of the following Ifettet, was one of the most remarkable characters of the seventeenth century. Had he fallen on happier days, he would have been an ornament to literature, and a permanent benefit to rnankind ; but, Jjerpetually in- volved in religious polemics, and wasting his attain- ments in the discussion of " unprofitable questions," his voluminous works are for the most part buried in oblivion, and his memorial exists chiefly in the name of a connexion of rehgionists, who, from adopting his theological principles, are known by the denomination of Baxterians^ and hold a sort of middle path between Calvinism and Arminianism. He was born November 12, 1615, at Rowton in Shropshire; and, after a life of seventy-six years, nearly fifty of which were passed amid vicissitudes, controversy, and persecutions, ex- pired on the 8th of December 1691 . Vacillating in his doctrinal notions, he was, notwithstanding, steady in his nonconformity ; which subjected him, more than B [ 2 3 once, to apprehension and imprisonment. The kst occasion on which he incurred the notice of the law, was in 1685, when he was seized by a warrant granted by Judge Jefferies, and tried by that execrable per- verter of justice. The brutish vulgarity of Jefferies never appeared more conspicuously than on this trial. " Mr. Baxter being ill," says his biographer, " moved, ^^ by his counsel, for time; but Jefferies said, he would " not give him aminute's time to save his life. Yonder " stands Gates in the pillory, says he; and if Mr. Baxter " stood on the other side, I would say, two of the greate&t " rogues in England stood there. He was brought to *' his trial May SOth, but the Chief Justice would not " admit his counsel to plead for their client. When " Mr. Baxter offered to speak for himself, Jefferies *' called him a snivelling, canting Presbyterian; and " said, Richard, Richard, don't thou think we will hear *' thee poison the court. Richard, thou art an old fel- " low, and an old knave; thou hast written books ** enough to load a cart ; every one as full of sedition, '' I might say of treason, as an egg is full of meat : ** hadst thou been whipped out of thy writing trade " forty years ago, it had been happy. Thou pretendest *' to be a preacher of the gospel of peace ; as thou hast " one foot in the grave, 'tis time for thee to begin to " think what account thou intendest to give ; but leave ** thee to thyself, and I see thou wilt go on as thou hast " begun ; but, by the grace of God, I will look after •' thee. I know thou hast a mighty party, and I see " a great many of the brotherhood in corners, waiting *' to see what will become of their mighty Don ; and a *' Doctor of the party (Dr. Bates) at your elbow ^ but, *' by the grace of Almighty God, I will crush you all." Neale's History of the Puritans^ v. v, p. 6. I'he jury, mider the direction of the Judge^ found Baxter guilty ; [ 3 ] - and he was fined 500 marks, or to go to prison till he paid it. He continued in prison for two years, when the court changed its measures, and he was released. Dr. Calamj observes, that Baxter's works would " form "a library of themselves." His " Call to the Un- *' converted," and his " Saints' everlasting Rest," are still had in deserved esteem. Redrew up a '^ Reformed "Liturgy," which Dr. Johnson pronounced to be " one " of the finest compositions of the ritual kind he had " ever seen:" but if it be compared with the admirable services of our own excellent Book of Common- Prayer, it will be found to be sadly deficient in pathos, sublimity, and variety. The popularity of Baxter^s works in the seventeenth century was surprisingly great. " I remember," says Addison, in the 445th number of the Spectator, '^ upon " Mr. Baxter's death, there was published a sheet of " good sayings, inscribed. The Last Words of Mr, " Baxter. Tlie title sold so great a number of these ** papers, that about a week after, there came out a " second sheet, inscribed, More Last Words of Mr, « Baxter.'* The curious original letter, from which the following is printed, was found in a second-hand copy of Zy wec. 20, 16t9. yl S your ingenuity giveth me full satisfaction, -^•^ I am very desirous to give you such just satisfaction concerning myself, that you may think neither better nor worse of me than I am : we old men are prone to have kinder thoughts of our childish old acquaintance than of later^ and to value most their esteem, whom we most esteem ; and the current report of your honesty, as well as knowledge, commandeth a great esti- mation of you from us all. I was before the warre offended much at the multitude of ignorant drunken readers, who had the care of souls, and the great number of worthy ministers who were cast out and ruined, and of serious Christians that were persecuted for praying together, an(J C 5 ] for little things. 1 was one of those that were glad that the Parliament, 1640, attempted a reformation of these things, which 1 expressed, perhaps, too openly. I lived in a town (Keder- minster) then famous for wickedness and drunk- enness. They twice rose against me, and sought to kill me. Once for saying the infants had original sin, &c.; and next time for persuading the churchwardens to execute the Parliament's order (the King's being yet with them) for defacing the images of the Trinity on the cross; when they knockt down two strangers for my sake, who carried it to their graves. Then the old Curate indited meat the assizers, I never heard for what, but I was forced to be gone. If any did but sing a psalm, or repeat a sermon in their houses, the rabble cried, Down with the Round- Heads, and were ready to destroy them ; so that the religious part of the town were forced to fly after me to Coventree, where we lived quietly ; but having nothing of their own, they were con- strained to become garrison soldiers, and I took my bare dyet, to preach once a week, refusing the offered place of chaplain to the garrison. The newes of 200,000 murdered by the Irish and Papist strength in the King's armies, and the great danger of the kingdom, was published by the Parliament; my judgment then was, that neither King nor Parliament might lawfully C 6 1 fight against each other ; that dividing was dissolving and destroying; and only necessary defence of the constitution was lawful : but that the honum publicum was the essentiall end of government ; and though I thought both sides faulty, I thought that both the defensive part, and the salus populi, lay on the Parliament's side, and I very openly published and preached accordingly. The Parliament still professing, that they took not arms against the King, but against subjects, that not only fled from justice, but sought by arms to destroy the Parliament, &c. In a word, my principles were the same with Bishop Bil- son's (of subjection) and Jewet's, but never so popular as K. Hooker's. When I had stayed iri Coventree a year, my father in Shropshire was plundered by the King's soldiers, (who never was against the King or conformity.) I went into Shropshire, and he was for my sake taken prisoner to Linshull. I stayed at Longfoid garrison for two months, and got him exchanged for Mr. R. Fowler. In that time, the garrison being a little more than a mile distance, the sol- diers on each side used frequently to have small attempts against each other ; in which Judge Fiennes' eldest son was killed of our side, and one soldier of their side, and no more that I know of. I was present when the soldier was killed, the rest ran away and left him ; and other sol-- C V3 diers hart him not, but offered him quarter, but he would not take it, nor lay down his armes : and I was one that bid him lay them down, and threatened to shoot him, but hurt him not, he striking" at me with his musket, and narrowly missing me. I rode from him; and Captain Holidaye, the governor, being behind me, shot him dead ; and it grieved me the more, because we afterwards heard that he was a Welshman, and knew not what we said to him. I never saw man killed but this; nor this indeed, for I rode away from him. Above twenty prisoners we there took, and all, save two or three, got away through a sinke-hole, and the rest were exchanged. I returned to Coventree, and fol- lowed my studies another year ; all that garrison abhorred sectarian, and popular rebellious prin- ciples. The Parliament then put out the Earl of Essex, and new-modelled their armies ; and srave Fairfax a new commission, leavino- out the King ; when before, all the commissions were, to fight for King and Parliament. Naseby fight suddenly followed: being near, I went, some daies after, to see the field and army ; when I came to them, (before Leicester,) divers orthodox captains told me, that we were all like to be undone, and all along of the ministers, who had all (save Mr. Bowles) forsaken the army : and the sectaries had thereby turned their preach ers^ and possessed C 8 1 them with destructive principles against King, Parliament, and Church, And now they said, " God's providence had put the trust of the *^ people's safety in our hands, and they would, ^* when the conquest was finished, change the ^* government of Church and State, and become " our lords," This struck me to the heart ; I went 'mong them, and found it true. Hereupon they persuaded me yet to come among 'em, and gotWhally (then sober, and against those men) to invite me to his regiment, (the most sectarian and powerful in the army.) I went home to Coventree, and slept not till I had called toge- ther about twelve or more revfBrend ministers, who then lived there, (divers arp yet living,) and told them our sad case ^ and that I had an in- vitation, and was willing to vei)ture my life in a tryal to change the soldiers' mipds. They all consented. I promised presently to gpe. I asked leave of the committee and governnient, who consented. Before midnight the garrison reviled the committee for consenting. They sent for me again, and told me I must not goe, for the garrison would mutinie. I told them I had promised, and would goe. But I, (foolishly,) Jo satisfie them, told my reasons, which set Lieut.- Colonel Purefoy in a rage against me for so ac- cusing the army. The next morning I went, and ynet wjth the consequent of my errors for Crom- [ 9 1 well had notice of what I had said, and came about before I could get thither: and I was met with scorn, (as one that came to save church and state from the army.) There I staid awhile, atid found, that Ijeing* but in one place at once I could doe little good. I got Mr. Cooke to come and help me, (who since helpt Mr. G. Booth into Chester for the King*, and was im- prisoned for it, though now he is silenced.) He and I spent our time in speaking and disputing against the destroyers ; and I so far prevailed as tp render the seducers in the regiment contemned, except in one troop, or a few more. I told the orthodox Parliament men of their danger. But Cromwell frustrated my cherished hope, and would never suffer me to come near the General, nor the head-quarters, nor himself, nor never once to speak to him. When the warre seemed over, I was invited home again ; but I called near twenty ministers together at Coventree, and told them that the crisis was not now far off; the army would shortly shew themselves in rebellion against King, the Parliament, and Church; and I was willing to venture my life to trie to draw off as many against them as I could. They voted me to stay. I went back, and it pleased God, that the very first day that they met in Nottingham in council, to confederate, as I foresaw, I was not only kept away, but finally [ 10 I separated from them, by bleeding almost to death, (120 ounces at the nose.) Had not that prevented it, I had hazarded my life at Triploe Heath, where they brake out, but had done little good ; for when the sober part then de- clared against them, they drew off about 5000 or 6000 men; and Cromwell filled up their places with sectaries, and was much stronger than be- fore. All that I could do after was, to preach and write against them. This is a true account of the case of } our old friend, R. BAXTER, How little knew Mr. Durell how falsely he described my case at Kidderminster, I may not |iow stay you w^ith a narrative. [ 11 3 MATTHEW PRIOR. - It is Doctor Johnson's observation, that " Prior has *' written with great variety, and his variety has made " him popular. He has tried all stiles, from the gro- " tesque to the solemn, and has not so failed in any as " to incur derision or disgrace." A singular resem- blance will be found between this description of his works, and the events of his life, and the character of his condu£l; the former being niarked by vicissitudes of elevation and depression; the latter, by public use- fulness, and private licentiousness. Born July 21, 1664, of parents sufficiently humble to have escaped the cer- tain knowledge of his biographer, he passed some time at Westminster school, under the care of the celebrated Dr. Busby ; and, engaging accidentally the notice of the witty Earl of Dorset, the Maecenas of his day, he obtained an academical education in St. John's college, Cambridge. In 1691, he resolved to try his fortune on that best theatre for the exhibition of talent, the Metropolis; where, attracting notice by some of his publications, he became an objeft of ministerial patronage, and was sent as secretary of the embassy to the Congress at the Hague; " an assembly," as Johnson " remarks, of princes and nobles, to which Europe has, " perhaps, scarcely seen any thing equal; where was t 12 ] •* formed the grand alliance against Louis the Four^ " teenth, which at last did not produce effects propor- •' tionate to the magnificence of the transaction.'* The favour of King William, which he gained by his di-» plomatic talents, and judicious application of poetical flattery, raised him to the office of Under Secretary of State, and afterwards to that of Commissioner of Trade, when he lost the secretaryship, by the removal of the Earl of Jersey. It was now that he changed his po- litics; left the Whigs, and became a Tory; a change which was afterwards rewarded by degradation from his political honours, and the discomfort of tempo- rary imprisonment. In the year 1713, Prior was an accredited plenipotentiary at the Court of France; where he continued to exercise the high duties of the situation, and to enjoy its honours, till August 1714, when the Tories fell, and our poet was involved in their disgrace. He remained in Paris, however, till the March following; and then returned to his country, only to experience the melancholy reverse, of appre- hension and confinement. It was during his stay in France, and after the change of the ministry, that he wrote the ensuing letter; a document which seems to contradict Johnson's assertion, " that he was not *' able to return to England, being detained by debts ** which he had found it necessary to contract, which <' were not discharged before March :" since Prior does not even hint at such a cause of detention, in his confidential communication to Lord Townsend, Our poet seems to have been, like most other men, a mixed character; with some of the fire of genius, but more of its eccentricity: good natural principles, but occa- sional perversions of them: upright in the main, but led by circumstances, every now and then, into obliquity of conduct : in short, he seems to have exemplified r 13 ] in himself that pliability of conscience, which he has so well described in the following sprightly lines, attributed to his muse : For conscience, like a fiery horse. Will stumble, if you check his course 5 But ride him with an easy rein. And rub him down with worldly gain, He'll carry you through thick and thin. Safe, although dirty, to your inn. LETTER rr. Froyn 31r. Prior to Lord Townsend. MY LORD, Fontainhleau, Oct, 12, 1714. TT Am sure you will not think that I make •^ you a compliment of form only, when I congratulate to you the honour of being secre- tary bond fide, I had rather you had the seals than any man in England, except myself; and I wish you all satisfaction and prosperity in the course of your business, and iu every part of your private life, I need not ask you for your favour; for, taking it for granted that you think [ J4 ] me an honest man, I assure myself of every thing from you that is goodnatured and generous. How long I am, or am not, to be here, or when I am to be recalled, your Lordship will soonest know; all that I can tell you upon that subject is, that our friend and ally Mr. Cunningham is mightily pleased with me. Pray, my Lord, do me all the good you can ; and if, as we say here, the names of party and faction are to be lost, pray get me pricked down for one of the first that is desirous to come into so happy an agree- ment. And as I know so good a design as the obtaining and ensuring peace suits admirably ■well with the sweetness of your Lordship's tem- per, I'll take my oath on't it, graduates extremely well with my present disposition and circum- stances. I cannot presume to hope for the happiness of seeing you very soon ; for though I should be recalled to-morrow, I shall savour so strong of a French Court, that I must make my quarantine in some Kentish village, before I dare come near the Cock-pit. In every place and estate, I am, with great truth and respect, Your Lordship's Most faithful, most humble, and obedient servant, MATTHEW PRIOR. [ 15 3 LORD BOLINGEROKE. That truth only is permanent, and that virtue alone can secure immortality to talent, is strikingly exem- plified in the fate which the philosophy and writings of Lord Bolingbroke have experienced; since now ihey are either entirely neglected, or remembered only to be reprobated or despised. " A graceful person," says Dr. Joseph Warton, " a flow of nervous eloquence, *' a vivid imagination, were the lot of this accomplished " nobleman ; but his ambitious views being frustrated '* in the early part of his life, his disappointments " embittered his temper ; and he seems to have been *' disgusted with all religions and all governments." Hence he became factious, discontented, and petulent, in his politics ; absurd, inconsistent, and impious, ia his religious speculations; and, though a patriot and Theist in profession^ he was, both in practice and principle, an enemy to legitimate power, a despiser of dignities, and a reviler of God. As an instance of the effects of his own dark system upon his moral conduct, it is sufficient to adduce his behaviour to Pope, bis friend and panegyrist ; whom he first degraded into the charader of a tool, and vehicle of his own de- strji6live notions, by insidiously furnishing him with the scheme of the Essay on Man^ the pernicious ten- dency of which the poet did not perceive ; and after. his friend was no more, employed the unprincipled Maiiet to calumniate his memory. *' Mallet," says Johnson, <* had not virtue, or had not spirit, to refuse [ 16 I " the office; and was rewarded, not long after, with the " legacy of Lord Bolingbroke's Works." These he pub- lished in a splendid edition of five volumes in quarto. Had the following letters contained the least taint of his Lordship's polluted opinions, they should not, not- withstanding their graceful ease, have found their way into the present volume; for, next to the guilt of those who coin profligate principles, we hold them to be most criminal who give them circulation^ by committing them to the press. Even during the temporary popularity of Lord Bolingbroke's writings, many able refutations of the principles contained in them were pnblished by the friends of religion and good order; but none more complete, satisfactory, and convincing, than the Letters of Dr. John Leland, in his View of Deistical Writers, from the commencement and close of which we beg leave to quote the following passages. *' The works Lord Bolingbroke had published 'in " his own life time, and which are republished in this *' (Mallet's) edition, had created a high opinion of the " genius and abilities of the author. In them he had *' treated chiefly concerning matters of a political '^ nature; and it were greatly to be wished for his own " reputation, and for the benefit of mankind, that he " had confined himself to subjects of that kind, in that " part of his works which he designed to be published •' after his decease. These his posthumous works make *' by far the greater part of this collection. His Letters " on the Stud]/ and Use of History ^ which were pub- " lished before the rest, and prepared the world not to "look for any thing from him, that was friendly to " Christianity or the holy Scriptures. But I am apt ** to think, that the extreme insolence, the virulence " and contempt, with which, in his other posthumous [ 17 ] " works he bath treated those things that have been " hitherto accounted most sacred among Christians, *^ and the open attacks he hath made upon some "important principles of natural religion itself, have " exceeded whatever was expected or imagined. There *^ is ground to apprehend, that the quality and repu- " tation of the author, his high pretensions to reason " and freedom of thought, his great command of words, '^ and the positive and dictatorial air he every where " assumes, may be apt to impose upon many readers, " and may do mischief in an age too well prepared al- " ready for receiving such impressions." ^' Thus I " have considered what the late Lord Bolinijbrokehath " offered in these Letters against the authority of the *' holy Scripture, and the Christian religion, as far as " may be necessary to take off the force of the objec- " tions he hath raised against it, and which seem to " have nothing in them proportioned to the unusual " confidence with which they are advanced. It is hard " to see what good end could be proposed by such an " attempt. But perhaps it may be thought an advan- " tage, that by * discovering error in first principles " ' founded upon facts, and breaking the charm, the " ^ incbanted castle, the steepy rock, the burning lake, " * will disappear.'* And there are persons, no doubt, " that would be well pleased to see it proved, that *' Christianity is no better than delusion and enchant- " ment; and particularly, that the wicked have nothing '^ to fear from the burning lake,^ some apprehensions of *' which may probably tend to make them uneasy in '* iheir vicious courses. But I should think, that a true " lover of virtue, and of mankind, who impartially " considers the purity of the gospel morals, the exceU * See his Letter on the Use and Study of Retirement, vol. ii. p. aai. C r 18 ] " lent tendency of its doctrines and precepts, and the ** power of its motives for engaging men to the prac- *^ tice of piety and virtue, and deterring them from *' vice and wickedness, will be apt to look upon it as a *' very ill employment, to endeavour to expose this *' religion to contempt, and to set bad men free from " the wholesome terrors it inspires, and deprive good " men of the sublime hopes and sacred joys it yields. ** But Christianity hath withstood much more for- " midable attacks, and will, I doubt not, continue to " approve itself to those that examine it, and the *' evidences by which it is established with minds free ^' from vicious prejudices, and with that sincerity and " simplicity of heart, that seriousness and attention, " which becomes them in an affair of such vast im* " portance." LETTER III. From Lord Bolingbroke (o Sir William Wyndham. Chantilly, Jan. 12, 1736. T Received yoursof the 22d of December, O.S. -*" this moment; and an opportunity of sending it to Paris to-morrow or Saturday being likely to present itself, I answer it instantly, in hopes it will be delivered by this safe conveyance, [ 19 1 time enoiigli to be carried to you by Mr. Wynd- ham. My brother4n-law, who sets out this day for London, has one for you likewise. I did not doubt, my dear Sir William, of your approba- tion, when I writ the letter you mention. You are capable of feeling, that true spirit carries a man into retreat on some occasions, as it plunges him into all the bustle of the world on others. If I had not gone into England, and begun to settle and take root there again, when the late King drew me into the measure, if I may use such an expression, it is easy to imagine what my enemies, and even my friends, would have said, with appearances on their side. If I had taken my hand from the plough, when the late King died ; it is easy likewise to imagine what the same persons would have said, with reason, I think, on their side. If I continue to act any longer the same part as I ha\^e acted in England for some years past, and the only part I would act if I was there ; I know what judgment I should make of myself, and what every man of sense and spirit would make of me likewise. The wisest, the most decent, and the only dignified part I can take, is, therefore, that I have taken. I have taken it, and I will support it. The declared friend of my friends j the de- clared enemy of my enemies; ready to sacrifice myself at any time for the liberty and welfare c 2 [ 20 ] of the country in which I was bom, and at all other times content and happy in the state of a philosophical cosmopolite, in the ordinary course of private life. You know how much indulgence I have for my passions, my fancies, my weak- nesses. How much it is, according* to my sys- tem, a part of wisdom to give great way to them, and pay little regard to common notions, received customs, and the quen diset on? so terrible to most persons. But in the great turns of private life, and in every part of public life, I condemn this indulgence ; and I respect the opinion of mankind, I mean that opinion which is founded in judgment, and will last j not the momentary applause of the vulgar. My whole scheme for the rest of my life is ready formed in my mind, and my mind im- moveably fixed to pursue it; but the affair which I recommend to you and Bathurst, is a prelimi- nary so necessary, that I cannot, without the communication of it, even begin to act and live as I propose to do, or at least with the ease and satisfaction I shall find, whenever this prelimi- nary is executed. I say no more on this head, but depend on you ; and expect to hear from you, as soon as you have thought, consulted, and informed yourself a little more about it. Though the project we have so often talked of for marrying Charles, be, in that one point of [ 21 ] view wherein I have considered it, extremely desirable; there is no doubt but it may cease to be so, when it is seen in another. You have seen it in that other, and you are, therefore, a much better j udge. He will be very easy in the matter. Nothing" could tempt him, but the prospect of an immense fortune; and, if I know him, he will prefer, even to that, the enjoyment of his liberty. Let me say one w^ord to you on this subject. 1 have studied him this summer more than I ever did before. You will never g"ive him a turn for public business, but he has notions of virtue and honour strong about him ; and he is one of those nags whom you may guide with a thread, if you play with his mouth, but who will grow restive to the spur, and run away, if he is much checked. I come now to the article of your letter that relates to my Lord Gower. I agree that Mr. Leveson must know the language, so as to speak it with ease, before he can mix in the good company of this country with pleasure and profit. 1 agree, likewise, that it will be necessary that he should wear off that aukward, shy habit, which our young fellows contract, and which his natural temper fortifies perhaps, before he can make such a figure in this company as it becomes him to make, and as it will be expected he should make, even at his first appearance. If he was at Paris, therefore, I should not advise producing . [ 22 ] him yet awhile in much company; and that I did produce him in, should be of a kind he would sooner assimilate with, than he would with the people of the Court, and of a certain rank and air of the world. But the objections against his being at Paris, drawn from the danger of his falling into the habits of his kinsman, and the other English, are strong, and, upon second thoughts, they seem to me decisive. The best resolution that can be taken, there- fore, is that of weaning him, by little and little, from the habits he has ; fitting him by little and little for the world, and introducing him by little and little into it ; and all this at a distance from his kinsman, and other English, who would con- firm his old habits, or teach him worse. By a letter which my wife has received from Lord Cornbury since I began this, I see that Lord Gower has thoughts of sending him di- rectly to us ; and I confess that I should be glad that be did so. When he has been for some time with me, I shall make a better judgment of his character; and my opinion concerning the manner in which his travels ought to be directed, will turn principally upon what I shall observe of his character. I will judge, in consequence of that notice, as well as I can ; and my Lord Gower may assure himself, that I will employ the best skill I have in this affair, [ 23 3 with zeal and affection. As to Mr. Gravenkop, I know him well, and think well of him ; all I have to recommend is this, let him be in the boy's eye a friend and companion, not a governor. Let him be the same in the eyes of the world ; a person attached, as they say abroad, to the family, and who travels on that principle with himj this hint is of more consequence than you can imagine. In the mean time I will enquire about the several academies that are abroad. That in our neighbourhood at Augers is quite fallen ; and that of Luneville will now fall, I suppose, likewise. Pray renew to my Lord Gower the assurances of my being his faithful servant ; they are very sincere. I need say no more at present about his son; but if he sends him hither, I should be glad to know the time, that I may order mine so as to have an opportunity of attending him; for it is possible that I may take a trip to Paris, and even to the waters of Bourbon, in the spring. Adieu, dear Sir William. All here are de- voted to you and yours; but neither here, or any where else, is any man so much as your old and faithful friend^ B. [ 24 ] LETTER IV. Jjord BoLiNGBROKE to Sir Wm. Wyndham. February 27, 1737. I Received yesterday your letter of the 28tli of January, dear Sir William; and though I have this morning little time, I employ it to answer what you write to me ; and this I shall do in very few words. As to all expedients of borrowing, and living longer on my capital, which has been, during many years, and by many ways, annually reduced, I cannot resolve to take them. To live by expedients, in all the senses of these words, has been my aversion always, however I may have been obliged to live so; but at my age, in my circumstances, and with my present temper of mind, to live so would be madness, if by any means I can avoid it. I want ease and tranquillity more than money ; and, there- fore, in my proceeding toward the sale of Dawley, I care little what advantages I give another, provided I secure soon to myself the advantage of settling my affairs in a way to have no further trouble about them, and to bring me a revenue, not equal to my fund, but equal to my scheme of life. 1 suppose the estate and advov/son worth about £l9/)00. If Mc-ad, or jmy one else, will give me, without more ado, £(iOOO for the house, and all the furniture in it, so that I may not lose r 25 ] the present opportunity ; close the bargain, Sir William, and I will ratify it. You ask what furniture I except. Besides books and pictures, I answer, in this case none; and especially if Dr. Mead be the purchaser, to whom, upon his own account, and out of regard to his late bro- ther's memory, I should be glad that the advan- tage of this purchase accrued. The furniture already in place, and the house, even reckon- ing the latter almost as materials, are worth the £6000. If my wife has left any box, or other odd article, which she may desire to have over, it will be such a trifle as to cause no dispute. In order to guard against the objection you make, it will be proper to say, as it is most true, ihat what you are now empowered to do, is only for the present moment, wherein I have parti- cular reasons for selling ; and that I shall not think in the same manner, this moment over. I make no doubt of yoar best services; and I should believe that Dr. B. misfht de- termine Dr, Mead to catch at such an oppor- tunity ; for surely it is a great one in profit, conveniency, and every other respect. Let me have your answer as soon as possible, for I must give mine determinately in a fortnight. I will not risk agreeing here, without agreeing there ; but, sure of the latter, I can find here, in the purses of my friends, all the money I shall want. [ 26 ] as I have told you in a former letter. Let your answer be sent securely to De Rocquet ; he will convey it to me. Let this come as soon as you can. Make it on good grounds ; and such will be your word of honour on my part, and the purchasers, for the purchase at such a sum. £26,000 1 wish to have: £25,000 1 will take ; the difference of a thousand pounds is not great; and yet in the plan I have formed, (and pare as close as possible,) it is considerable. If these pour-parlers produce any other propositions, you will be so good as to let me know them, for I must turn myself some way or other. Once more, you need not apprehend that I shall enter into any engage- ments here, unless I am previously sure of selling Dawley. My last letter to you by Leveson acquaints you, that I can find in the purses of my friends here, as much money as I want, with- out any other security than I can give here, and that is, my word ; but far be it from me to risk that word. If I lose the opportunities that are open at present, and fall back into absolute un- certainty about the settlement of my affairs in any tolerable manner, either for my life, or for my death, there can be nothing worse for me; and, in this case, I know not whether the best thing I can do, will not be to take a journey into England in the month of May. If any receiv- able offers are made, I mav conclude at once ; if [ 27 ] none, I may take new measures: and if I will live on my capital, I may do so at Dawley in a very retired manner, as well as at Augevjlle. This is a party I should not chuse, but will take, if no other present itself; and I shall explain my scheme farther to you hereafter. I had written thus far, when Bouillard re- ceived a letter of a very fresh date fromBrinsden, wherein he says that Mrs. Wyndham has the small-pox. I am unspeakably touched with the news; I pray God preserve her for her own sake, and for yours. It would be cruel to trouble you, when you have so great a load of concern upon you, any further about my affairs. I will conclude, therefore, with assurances of the part your two friends here take in your affliction, with our hearty and warmest wishes that the poor young lady may escape. We both embrace you, and make our best compliments to my Lady Blandford. B. LETTER V. From Lord Bolingbroke to &V Charles Wyndham.* DEAR SIR, Augeville, Aug. 8, 1740. I Feel as I ought to do, the kindness you shew me in sending a servant on purpose • Son of Sir Wm. Wyndham, afterwards Lord Egremont. [ 28 ] with a letter, which gives me as much comfort as I am capable of receiving, since the loss we have sustained by the death of your father, and my friend. You are in the right, and I love you the better for the sentiment ; it is reputation to be descended from so great and so good a man; and surely it is some, to have lived thirty years with him in the warmest and most attentive friendship. Far from having any need of mak- ing any excuses that you did not write the cruel news to me, when you sent it to Lady Denbigh, I have thanks to return you for sparing me, as you spared yourself. The news came to me with less surprise, but not with less effect. My unhappiness (for such it w^ill be as long as I am able to feel pleasure and pain) began, however, a little later. It is a plain truth, free from all affectation or compliment, that as your father was dearer to me than all the rest of the world, so must every thing be that remains of him. You, Sir, especially, who are as dear to my heart •as you would be, if, being the same worthy man you are, you were my own son. The resolutions you have taken, both as to public and private life, are such as become the son and successor of Sir William Wyndham. To be a friend to your country, is to be what he was eminently: it is to be what he would have recommended you to be, even with his dying [ 29 1 breath, if the nature of his distemper had per- mitted such an effort. He thought his country on the brink of ruin; and that monarchical or free constitution of government, wherein the glory and happiness of the nation consisted, at the point of being dissolved and sacrificed to the support of a weak and wicked administration; but he thought that the greater this distress was, the more incumbent and the more pressing the duty of struggling to prevent or to alleviate it became. One of the last things he had said to me the day before he left this place was, that he did not expect to live to see Britain restored to a flourishmg and secure state, but that he would die in labouring to procure that happiness to those he should leave behind him. Complain not of your talents; it is a great talent to dare to be honest in such an age as thi^; nature has given you many, your own industry may improve them, and acquire more ; but integrity and firm- ness of mind must give lustre and vigour to them all, I am quite unable to suggest any thing to you relative to your conduct in Somersetshire, neither can you want any hints on that subject; or if you did, my Lord Gower would be able to advise you much better, and on better informa- tion and observation than it is possible for me to have. Consult him, dear Sir Charles, and hearken to him on every subject, as to a wise [ 30 ] and virtuous friend. I give you the counsel I would take myself, if I were in your scene of action at more than twice your age. Whenever I can be of use to you, by inform- ing and advising, or by any other way whatsoever, this service shall be paid you with all the affec- tion of my heart, and all the powers of my mind or body. I owe it you. I owe it to the me- mory of your dear father. The flights I take from this place are rare, and never long in time or distance: if, there- fore, you are so good as to make me a visit, take your own time ; you will find me at home, or, as we use to say, within call. Your tender- ness and respect for my Lady Blandford cannot be too much commended, and I am sure you will persist in them. Give the strongest assurances of mine, I beseech you, both to my Lady, Mrs. Wynd- ham, and to Lady Denbigh, if she be with you, as I suppose she will, when this comes to your hands. I had talked largely to your father on the subject on which I wrote to him in the letter that Mr. Brinsden put into your hands; and had convinced him, that Mr. Percy lost his time now at Winchester. You may be, perhaps, in the same mind ; and if you are so, you must send him to Oxford as soon as you can conveniently. But I will enter no further into the matter, since it will be one subject of our conversations when C 31 ] we have them. I will only desire you to pot the young" man in mind of me, as of one who loves him, and wishes his happiness. If I am alive when he has finished the course of his studies at Oxford, you may perhaps let him make me a visit, before he goes into another course of study abroad, as I think it would be greatly for his improvement to do. I shall be glad to see him once more before I die, and I scarce induce myself to think that 1 shall have that satisfac- tion in England. Do not imagine that a letter from you can appear long to me, and especially when every line of it holds a language that affects my heart in the most sensible manner. Not to trust it to the post, you were right ; for there are men in the world, who will draw poison, like spiders, out of every thing. I know not whether the allusion I make be a fact, but that I allude to, is one most certainly. Adieu, dear Sir Charles! May all your fa- ther's virtues dwell in you; may you succeed to his reputation ! and may the reward of his merit, (as the attachment of it will undoubtedly) at- tend you! These are the sentiments of one to whom his memory and your person are equally dear. I can use no stronger expression, and I think this as strong as I can express it. B, [ 32 I LETTER VI. Lord BoLiNGBROKE to Sir Chas.Wyndham. BEAR SIR, December 2, 1740. 1 Answer your letter of the 22d of October, which came to my hand but very lately. It is true that my health received this summer several shocks, and they were not a little ag-gravated by the severe blow which the death of your father- gave me. Assure yourself that I will deserve the place you give me in your affection and confidence, by the same friendship that I bore your father, (and greater no heart can give ;) and by the same zeal for your honour and interest in every circumstance of life. Some use I may be of to you, by the long experience I have had of men and things, and especially at your first set- ting out in higher life than you have been in hitherto, and before you have acquired that experience yourself. To profit by other men's experience, is to purchase knowledge of the world at the cheapest rate ; and if mine can be in that manner useful to you, I shall think the price it cost so much the less exorbitant. You judged right, most certainly, in conducting your- self as you did at Wells ; and the reflections you make on the probable consequences of your t 33 ] conduct, are right, too, in uiy opinion. You see, by this instance, how void of sense and sentiment the mob of men called party is ; they must not, however, be neglected; every one of them is a cypher ; but a rnultitude of cyphers, with a unit added to them, make a great sum. Be assured, dear Sir Charles, that the great support of integrity, in a country like ours espe- cially, is independency. It is for this reason, that I feel more joy than it is possible for me to express, in reading that part of your letter^ wherein you appear so determined to preserve your independency, by that economy which liiay easily be preserved by you, without refusing yourself any one of the pleasures of life. Refuse yourself only the follies of life, those engaging follies, those that every man, upon the least reflection, acknowledges to be such. I ask no more ; and this you not only grant, but prescribe to yourself. I should have extreme pleasure in seeing you here, but I beg you not to think of coming with the least inconveniency, nor the least neglect of things that ought to be the immediate objects of your care. I do not suspect that Walpole can hinder you from being chosen at Bridgewater; but I have so good an opinion of you, that I am persuaded you will be chosen no where, rather than be chosen by him any where. Your [ 34 ] fatter would have thought so ; for your father looked upoQ that man as the principal cause of all our national misfortunes. I hear Percy is gone to Oxford, and I am glad of it. Ho not forget to throw him into that course of study I mentioned to your father, and which he approved; for else, though applied to his studies, he may lose his tiipe at Oxford, as well as at Winchester. Have still iu view to make him acquire a competent knowledge of the Roman law, and for that purpose send him into Holland, after he has been long enough at Oxford; upon which particular, if you talk with Lord Marchmont, you will be well advised. I have made all the compliments you desired me to make, and am charged with the care of returning them. Make mine, I beseech you, to my Lady, and toMrs.Wyndham. Adijeu^d^ar Sir Charles, B [ 3^ ] ALEXANDER POPE. The celebrity of Alexander Pope, precludes the necessity of giving any particulars respecting a cha- racter, whose life has been the subject of so many able specimens of English biography. The late admirable edition of his works, by " that sweetest son of modern " song," the accomplished W. L. Bowles, has given to the public all that they can now expect to know of Pope and his works. The taste and discrimination of Dr. Joseph Warton had before well appreciated the merit of Pope as a poet, and allotted him his proper station among British bards : ** Where then,'' says he, " according to the question proposed at the beginning " of this Essay, shall we with justice be authorized to " place our admired poet? Not, assuredly, in the same '' rank with Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton ; how- " ever justly we may applaud the Eloisa, and Rape of ** the Lock ; but, considering the correctness, elegance, ** and utility of his works, the weight of sentiment> '* and the knowledge of men they contain^ we may " venture to assign him a place next to Milton, and ^^Just above Dryden. Yet to bring our minds steadily " to make this decision, we must forget, for a moment, " the divine Music Ode of Dryden; and may then, ** perhaps, be compelled to confess, that though Dryden '•' be the greater genius^ yet Pope is the better artist^ Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope, p, 404, Of » 2 [ 36 ] the prose compositions of Pope, the public estimation has been neither so general nor unqualified as of his poetry. " His Letters^^ Johnson says, " if considered " merely as compositions, seem to be premeditated and *' artificial. It is one thing to write, because there is ** something which the mind wishes to discharge; and *' another, to solicit the imagination, because ceremony " or Vanity require something to be written. Pope ^' confesses his early letters to be vitiated with affec^ ^^ tation and ambition-^ to know whether he disentangled ** himself from the perversion of epistolary integrity, *' his book and his life must be set in comparison." WorkSj vol. it. p. 157. Whatever praises, however, may be considered as due to Pope's epistolary compo- sitions, the following letters will have much value in the. eye of the public, as completing a correspondence, a part of which only has hitherto been published. Many of our poet's letters to Judge Fortescue appear in the later editionb of his works ; but those now printed have escaped all his editors. They were reserved among the; papers of the venerable, great, and good Richard Rey- nolds, esq; of Bristol; a name of such well-known and exalted worth, and universal estimation, as render any further description unnecessary, and all eulogy super- fluous. The Editor has to return her grateful acknow- ledgments to one of the most perfect of human beings^ his near relative, for their communication. C 37 ] LETTER VIL To Wm. Fortes cue, Esq; at FaUapit, near Kingshridge, Devonshire. I DEAR SIR, Sept. 10, 1724. Heartily thank you for yours; and the rather, because you are so kind as to employ rae, though but in little matters ; I take it as an earnest you would do so in greater. As to the house of preparation for the small- pox, why should it not be my own ? It is en- tirely at your service, and I fancy two beds, or three upon necessity, (besides, your servants may be disposed of in the next house to me,) will amply furnish your family. It is true, the small-pox has been in Twitnam, but is pretty well gone off. I can't find any village more free from it so near London, ex- cept that of Petersham, where I hear it has not been ; but I'll further inform myself, upon your next notice. As to the receipt of Sir Stephen Fox's eye- water, which I have found benefit from, it is very simple, and only this : Take a pint of cam- phorated spirit of wine, and infuse thereinto two scruples of elder flowers. Let them remain in it, and wash your temples, and the nape of your [ as ] neck, but do not put it into your eyes, for it will smart abominably. When you have taken breath for a week or two, and had the full possession of that blessed indolence which you so justly value, after your long" labours and peregrinations, I hope to see you here again ; first exercising the paternal care, and exemplary in the tender offices of a pater familias, and then conspicuous in the active scenes of business, eloquent at the bar, and wise in the chamber of council, the future honoiir of your native Devon ; and to fill as great a part in the history of that county for your sagacity and gravity in the laws, as Esquire Bickford is likely to do for his many experiments in natural philosophy. I am forced to dispatch this by the post, which is going, or else I could not have forborne to expatiate upon what I last mentioned. I must now only give Mr. Bickford my services, and join 'em to those I shall ever offer to your own family. Believe me, dear Sir, Your faithfullest, affectionate servant, A.POPE. Gay was well five days ago, at Chiswick. I 39 3 LETTER VIII, To Wm. Fortescue, esq; at Fallapit, near Totnes, Devon* [FROM GAY AND POPE.] DEAR SIR, Sept, 23, 1725. I Am again returned to Twickenham? upon the news of the person's death you wrote to me about. I cannot say I have any great prospect of success ; but the affair remains yet undetermined, and I cannot tell who will be his successor. I know I have sincerely your good wishes upon all occasions. One would think that my friends use me to disappointments, to try how many I could bear ; if ihey do so, they are mistaken ; for as I don't expect much, I cart never be much disappointed. I am in hopes of seeing you in town the beginning of October, by what you writ to Mr. Pope ; and sure your father will think it reasonable that Miss Fortescue should not forget her French and dancing. Dr. Arbuthnot has been at the point of death by a severe fit of illness, an imposthumation in the bowels; it hath broke, and he is now pretty well recovered. I have not seen him since my return from Wiltshire, but intend to go to town the latter end of the week. [ 40 ] I have made your compliments to Mrs. How*- ard this morning : she indeed put me in mind of it, by enquiring after you. Pray make my compliments to your sisters and Mrs. Fortescue; Mr. Pope desires the same. Your*s, most affectionately, J, G. ^* Blessed is the man who° expects nothing", ^* for he shall never be disappointed," was the ninth beatitude which a man of wit (who, like a man of wit, was a long time in gaol) added to the eighth ; I have long ago preached this to our friend ; I have preached it, but the world and his other friends held it forth, and exempli- fied it. They say, Mr.Walpole has friendship, and keeps his word ; I wish he were our friend's friend, or had ever promised him any thing. You seem inquisitive of what passed when Lord Peterborow spirited him hither, without any suspicion of mine. Nothing extraordinary, for the most extraordinary men are nothing before their masters; and nothing, but that Mr.Walpole swore by G — D, Mrs. Howard should have the grounds she wanted from V — n. Nothing would be more extraordinary, except a statesman made good his promise or oath, (as very probably he will.) J/Ihave any other very extraordinary thing to tell [ 41 ] yon, it is this, that I have never since returned Sir R. W.'s visit. The truth is, I have nothing to ask of him ; and I believe he knows that nobody follows him for nothing. Besides, I have been very sick, and sickness (let me tell you) makes one above a minister, who cannot cure a fit of a fever or ag-ue. Let me also tell you, that no man who is lame, and cannot stir, will wait upon the greatest man upon earth ; and lame I was, and still am, by an accident which it will be time enough to tell you when we meet, fori hope it will be suddenly. Adieu, dear Sir, and believe me a true well-wisher to all your's, and ever your faithful, affectionate servant, A. POPE, Twitenham, Sept. 23, 1725. LETTER IX. To Wm. Fortescue, esq; at his house in Bell- Yard, near Lincoln s Inn, London, DEAR SIR, Twitnam, May 10. I Thank you for your constant memory of me, which upon every occasion you shew ; when (God knows) my daily infirmities make me hardly capable of shewing, though very much so of feeling, the concerns of a friend. I am glad your family are well arrived, and your taking [ 42 3 care first to tell me so, before I enquired, is a proof you know how glad I am of yours, and their welfare. I intended to tell you first how kind Sir R. Walpole has been to me ; for you must know, he did the thing with more despatch than I could use in acknowledging or telling the the news of it. Pray thank him for obliging you (that is, me) so readily, and do it in strong terms, for I was aukward in it, when I just mentioned it to him. He may think me a worse man than I am, though he thinks me a better poet perhaps ; and he may not know I am much more his servant, than those who would flatter him in their verses. I have more esteem for him, and will stay till he is out of power, (accord- ing to my custom,) before I say what 1 think of him. It puts me in mind of what was said to him once before by a poet : " In power, your ** servant; out of power, your friend;" which a critic (who knew that poet's mind) said, should be altered thus : " In power, your friend ; ** but out of power, your servant; such most "poets are!" But if Sir R. ever finds me the first low character, let him expect me to become the second. In the mean time I hope he will believe me his, in the same sincere disinterested manner that I am, Dear Sir, your's, A. POPK [ 43 ] Next Sunday I expect some company here, but that need not hinder you from a night's lodging- in the country, if you like it. LETTER X. To Mr, FoRTESCUE. BEAR SIR, Twickenham f Friday. I Am in the condition of an old fellow of threescore, with a complication of diseases upon me, a constant head-ache, ruined tone of the stomach, &:c. Some of these succeed, the moment I get quit of others ; and upon the whole, indeed, I am in a very uncomfortable way. I could have wished to see you, but cannot. I wish you all health, wherever you go. Pray, if you can, do not forget to try to procure the annuity for life for £1000, which I recommended to you in behalf of a Lady of our acquaintance. Make my sincere services to all yours as ac- ceptable as they are sincere. I am, dear Sir, your's affectionately, A. POPE. If you have an opportunity, pray give my services to Sir R. W. whom I will wait upon the first Sunday I am able. [ 44 I LETTER XI. To William Foiitescue, Esq. BEAR sm, Twifenham, Feb. 1 7, 1 726. I Was sorry I missed of you the other day when you called ; I was gone to Mrs. How- ard's, as 1 told you. I send you part of what wholly belongs to you, and, as the world's justice goes, that is a fair composition ; I mean some of the Devonshire pease. If the ring be done, pray give it the bearer. I intend to wear it for life, as a melancholy memorandum of a most honest, worthy man. I told you I dined t'other day at Sir E-obert Walpole's. A thing has happened since which gives me uneasiness, from the indiscretion of one who dined there at the same time ; one of the most innocent words that ever I dropped in my life, has been reported out of that conversation, which might reasonably seem odd, if ever it comes to Sir R.'s ears, I will tell it you the next time we meet; as I would him, if I had seen him since; and 'twas not (otherwise) of weight enough to trouble him about. We live in unlucky times, when half one's friends are enemies to the other, and eon- isequently care not that any equal moderate man [ 45 ] should have more friends than they themselves have. Believe me, dear Sir, Most affectionately yoiir's, A. POPE. LETTER XII. To William Fortescue, Esq; at Fallapii in Devonshire, DEAR SIR, Septemhei* 13/ I Take your letter the more kindly, as I had not written to you myself; at least it must have been so, for all you could know; for though indeed I did write once, yet I know it never reached you. I am sorry for poor White, who died just then. I could wish, if you are not iixed on a successor, you had a relation of mine in your eye ; but this, I fear, is a hundred to one against my hopes. I am truly glad you have safely performed your revolution, and are now turning round your own axle in Devonshire; from whence may we soon behold you roll towards our w^orld again ! I can give you no account of Gay, since he was raffled for, and won back by his Dutchess, but that he has been in her vortex ever since, immoveable to appearance, yet I be- [ 46 3 lieve with his head turning" round upon some work or other. But I think I should not in friend- ship conceal from you a fear, or a kind-hearted jealousy, he seems to have entertained, from your never having called upon him in town, or cor- responded with him since. This he commu- nicated to me in a late letter, not without the appearance of extreme concern on his part, and all the tenderness imaginable on yours. This whole summer I have passed at home ; my mo- ther eternally relapsing', yet not quite down; her memory so greatly decayed, that I am forced to attend to every thing, even the least cares of the family, which, you'll guess, to me is an inex- pressible trouble, added to the melancholy of observing' her condition. 1 have seen Sir R. W. but once since you left* I made him then my confidant in a complaint against a lady, of his, and one of my, acquaintance, who is libelling me, as she certainly one day will him, if she has not already. You'll easily guess I am speaking of Lady Mary. I should be sorry if she had any credit or influence with him, for she would infallibly use it to bely me ; though my only fault towards her was, leaving off her conversation when I found it dangferous. I think you vastly loo ceremonious to Mrs. Pattj, but I shewed her what you wrote. I beg your family's acceptance of my heartiest services, and [ 47 ] their belief that no man wishes them and you more warmly all prosperity, than, dear Sir, Your ever affectionate friend and servant, A. POPE. I've only seen Mrs. Howard twice since I saw you, but hear she is very well, since she took to water drinking. If you have any correspon- dence at Lincoln or Peterborough, a friend of mine desires to procure a copy of Mr. — 's last will. LETTER XIII. ToWm. Portescue, Esq; to he left at his house in Bell Yard, Lincoln's Inn, London. DEAR SIR, March 18, 1732. I Am sorry you partook of the trouble of the Excise Bill; and as sorry I did not know of your coming, though but for two days, for I would have come up just to see you. It had been very kind, if you could have layn here in your way; but this is past, and may all the future be prosperous with you as I wish it ! As to that poem, which I do not, and must not, own, I beg your absolute and inviolable silence. You [ 48 1 will see more of it in another week, and that too I shall keep private. It is so far from a morti- fication to do any cjood thing, (if this be so, and indeed I mean it so,) and enjoy only one*s own consciousness of it, that I think it the hiofhest gratification. On the contrary, the worst things I do, are such as I would constantly own, and stand the censure of. It is an honest proceeding, and worthy a guiltless man. You may be certain I shall never reply to such a libel as Lady Mary's. 'Tis a pleasure and a comfort at once to find, that with so much mind as so much malice must have, to accuse or blacken my character, it can fix upon no one ill or immoral thing in my life, and must content itself to say, my poetry is dull, and my person ugly. I wish you would take an opportunity to represent to the person who spoke to you about that lady, that her conduct no wa}s deserves encouragement from him, or any other great persons ; and that the good name of a private subject ought to be as sacred, even to the highest, as his behaviour towards thorn isr irreproachable, legal, and respectful. What' you writ of his intimation on that head, shall never pass my lips. Mr. Bl — is your faithful servant, and muck obliged to your care. My mother, I thank Goi>, is free and easy. I never had better health than of late, and hope I shall have long life, because L 49 ] I am much threatened. Adieu ! and know me ever for, dear Sir, Your most sincerely aiFectionate servant, A. POPE, LETTER XIV. ToWm. Fortescue, Esq; in Bell-Yard, near Lincoln s Inn, London, DEAR SIR, Sunday, Feb, 1732-3. I Had written to you before, as well as sent ; had I not hoped this day, or last night, to have seen you here. 1 am sorry for your complaints of ill health, and particularly of your eyes; pray be very careful not to increase your cold. I will infallibly, if I can't see you sooner, be with you in the middle of the week. I am at all times desirous to meet you, and have this winter been often dissatisfied to do it so seldom. I wish you a judge, that you may sleep and be quiet ; ut in otia tuta recedas, but otium cum dig^ nitate: have you seen my imitation of Horace? 1 fancy it \y'\\\ make you smile; but though, when first I began it, I thought of yon ; before I came to end it, I considered it might be too ludicrous. t 50 ] to a man of your situation and grave acquaint- ance, to make you Trebatius, who was yet one of the most considerable lawyers of his time, and a particular friend of a poet. In both which cir- cumstances I rejoice that you resemble him, but am chiefly pleased that you do it in the latter. Dear Sir, adieu ! and love me as I do you. Your faithful and affectionate servant, A. POPE. LETTER XV. To William Fortescue, Esq. DEAR SIR, June 7,* 1733. IT is indeed a g-rief to me, which I cannot express, and which I should hate my own heart, if 1 did not feel, and yet wish no friend I have ever should feel. All our passions are inconsistencies, and our very x'eason is no better. But we are what we were made to be. Adieu! it will be a comfort to me to see you on Saturday night. Believe me, dear Sir, your*s, A.POPE. * The day on which Mr. Pope's mother died. C 51 ] LETTER XVI. To William Fortescue, Esq. DEAR SIR, August 2, 1735. I Had sooner written to you, but that I wished to send you some account of my own and of your affairs in my letter. This day determines both ; for we cannot find out who is the pirater of my works, therefore cannot move for an injunction, (though they are sold over all the toW'U;) that injury I must sit down with, though the impression cost me above £200, as the case yet stands, there being" above half the impression unsold. Curl is certainly in it, but we can get no proof. He has done me another injury, in propagating lies in Fog's Journal of Saturday last, which I desire you to see, and consider if not matter for an information. One Mr. Gandy, an attorney, writes me word, Mr. Cruwys is too busy- to attend my little affairs, and that you approve of his being employed for him. Now, as to your business, I write this from your house ; the windows will be done, and a stone chimney-piece up, by the end of next week. I will see all effected, and order the painting after. I have paid the fisherman. E 2 [ 52 ] I have exercised hospitality plentifully these tvventy days, having- entertained many of mine^ and some of Lady S/s, friends. There is a greater court now at Marble hill than at Ken- sington, and God knows when it will end. Mrs. Blount is your hearty humble servant, and Lady S. returns you all compliments. Make mine to your whole family, when you write. I dine to-day with some of your friends, and shall give your services in the evening to Lord Hay. The town has nothing worth your hearing or care ; it is a wretched place to me, for there is not a friend in it. The news is supposed to be very authentic, that the Persians have killed sixty thousand Turks. I am sorry that the sixty thousand Turks are killed, and should be just as sorry if the sixty thousand Persians had been killed ; almost as sorry as if they had been so many Christians, Dear Sir, adieu ! As soon as you get home, pray contrive (if you can) to send what letters you have been so partial to me as to keep, espe- cially of an early date, before the year 1720. I may derive great service from seeing them in the chronological order; and I find my collection, such as it is, must be hastenerl, or will not be so effectual. May all health and happiness follow you in your circuit, and, at the end of it, with repose to join them ', and then, I think, you'll [ 53 ] have all that is worth living for in this world ; for as for fame, it is neither worth living for, or dying for. I am truly, dear Sir, Your faithful friend, and affectionate servant, A. POPE. From the Vineyards, Aug, 2. Pray, when you write to Mr. Curwys, enquire if he has not forgot Mrs. Blount's arrear from her brother of £25, due last Lady-Day. LETTER XVn. To William Foktescue, Esq, DEAR SIR, March 26, t736. YOUR very kind letter was not more kind than enteriaiuing, in the agreeable descrip- tion of Monmouth and its situation. And what you tell me of your own temper of mind, in the present discharge of your office, I feel very livelily with and for you. It is a dreadful duty, yet a noble one; and the hero you thought so much of at Monmouth, had, or ought to have had, his glory overcast and saddened, with the same reflection : how many of his own species he sentenced to death, in every battle he gave. I am not sa clear in his character, as in that of t 54 3 Edward the Third. There seems a little too much of a turn to vanity, and knight (king er- rantry, I would say,) in his motives of quarrel with the Dauphine of France. And it appears by some of the Monkish historians, that he was much a bigot, and persecuted hotly for religion. After all, your office of a judge is more con- scientious, and tends much more directly to public w^elfare. You may certainly, with a better title than any conqueror, sleep heartily, provided it be not upon the bench. You guessed rightly, (I should now say rather, you judged rightly,) when you supposed this weather was too fine to be sacrificed in London, where the sun shines on little else than vanity • but I have paid for taking my pleasure in it too exorbitantly. The sun at this season, and in this climate, is not to be too much depended on. Miseri quihus intenfata nites! may be applied to the favours and smiles of the English planet, as properly as to those of an Italian lady. The matter of my complaint is, that it has given rae a rheumatism in one arm to a violent degree, which lies useless and painful on one side of this paper, while the other is endeavouring to converse with you at this distance. Gob knows, if your family be across the water just now, I shall not be able once to see them there. But it is not five days ago, that they were in London, [ 55 ] at that filthy old place Bell-jard, which you know I want them and you to quit. I was to see them one of the only two days I have been in town this fortnight. Your too partial mention of the book of Letters, with all its faults and follies, which Curl printed and spared not, (nor yet will spare, for he has published a fourth sham volume yesterday,) makes one think it may not be amiss to send you, what 1 know you will be much more pleased with than I can be, a pro- posal for a correct edition of them; which at last I find must be offered^ since people have misun*" derstood an advertisement I printed some time ago, merely to put some stop to that rascal's books, as a promise that I would publish such a book. It is therefore offered in this manner ; but I shall be just as well satisfied, (if the public "will,) without perfoi'ming the offer. I have no- thing to add, but that Mrs. Blount, whose health you shew a kind regard to, is better, and Lady S. well. May health attend you and quiet ; and a good conscience will give you every other joy of life, how many rogues soever you sentence to death. 'T is a hard task! but a harder to man- kind, were they unpunished, and left in society. I pity you, and wish it may happen as seldom as possible. Your's, sincerely, A. POPE. [ 56 ] LETTER XVIII. To the Hon. William Fortescue. DEAR SIR, Jw/3/3], 1738. IT was my intention sooner to have told you, of what, I know, is the news a friend chiefly desires, my own state of health. But I waited these three weeks almost, to give you a better account than I can yet do ; for 1 have suffered a good deal from many little ailments, that don't altogether amount to a great disease, and yet render life itself a sort of one. I have never been in London but one day since I parted from you, when I saw Mr. Spooner and the rest of yours ; and this day I took it into my head they might be at the Vineyard. I went thither, but Mrs. Shepherd told me, in a voice truly lugubrious, that nobody had seen her walls since you were last there. I comforted her over a dish of tea, and recommended her to read Milto on all such occasions of worldly disappointments. I went home, and drank Sir Robert's health with T. Gordon ', for that day I was left alone, my Lord Bolingbroke being sent for to London, who has stayed with me otherwise constantly ^ince his arrival in England, and proposes (to [ 57 ] my great satisfaction) to do so, while he remains on this side the water. It is great pleasure to me that 1 never saw him better, and that quiet and hunting', together, have repaired his health so well. Your friend Sir Robert has but one of these helps; but I remember when I saw him last, which was the last time he sent to desire me, he told me he owed his strength to it. You see I have made him a second compliment in print in my second Dialogue, and he ought to take it for no small one, since in it I couple him with Lord Bol — . As he shews a right sense of this, I may make him a third, in my third Dialogue. I should be glad to hear of any place, or thing, that pleases you in your progress. Lord Bur- lington was very active in issuing orders to his gardener, to attend you with pine-apples: he goes into Yorkshire next week. Pray remember me to Mr. Murray. You need not tell him I admire and esteem him, but pray assure him that T love him. I am, sincerely, dear Sir, your's, A. POPE. I F 58 ] LETTER XIX. To the Hon. Mr, Justice Wm. Fortescue, i>e Sell-Yard, near Lincoln s Inn, London, ' DEAR SIB, Aug. 17, 1739. I Was truly concerned, at my return from my rambles, (which was a whole week longer than I intended, or could prevent,) to hear from Mrs. Blount, how ill you had been ; worse thvan really you had told me in your kind letter. I called at your house a day or two, but mist the ladies ; but the servants told me they had heard twice from you, and that you was much better. 1 hope it proved so ; and that as your journey advanced, your strength did the same. I wished to hear more of you ; and now desire it, that I may no longer want the know- ledge how you find yourself. I dined yesterday w^ith Jervas upon a venison pasty, where we drank your health warmly, but as temperately, as to the liquor, as you could yourself: for neither he nor I are well enough to drink wine; he for his asthmatic, and I for another complaint, that persecutes me much of late. Mrs, Blount is not yet at Bichmond, which she is sorry for, as well as I \ but I think she goes [ 59 ] to-morrow : and she told me she would give you some account of herself, the moment she was under your roof. She expected I could have informed her of your state of health, and almost quarrelled with me that I had not writ sooner. Indeed I forget no old friend a day together; and I bear you, in particular, all the goodwill and good wishes I can harbour for any one; though as to writing, I grow more and more remiss. The whole purpose of it is only to tell, now and then, one is alive; and to encourage one*s friends to tell us the same, in the conscioasness of loving and being loved by each other. All news, if important, spreads of itself; and, if un- important, wastes time and paper; few things can be related as certain truths, and to hunt for pretty things belongs to fops and Frenchmen. Party stories are the business of such as serve their own interests by them, or their own pas- sions. Neither of all these is my case, so that I confine myself to meer howd'yes, and repeated assurances that I am concerned to know what I ask of my friends. Let me, then, sometimes be certified of your ways and welfare ; mine are pretty uniform, neither much mended nor worse. But such as I ever was, I am ; and I ever was, and shall be, dear Sir, Faithfully your's, A. POPE. [ 60 ] GEORGE CHEYNE, M.D The writer of the following letters, Dr. George Cheyne, was a physician of considerable eminence, and singular character ; descended from a good family in Scotland, where he was born in 1 67 1 . Being at first intended by his parents for the church, he received a regular and liberal education ; and passed his youth in close study, and in ahnost continual application to the abstracted sciences ; in which pursuits his chief pleasure consisted. From some cause, which does not appear, the plan of entering into the Church was relinquished; and young Cheyne was placed at Edinburgh, where he studied physic under the celebrated Dr. Pitcairne, whom he stiles his great master, and generous friend; and having taken the degree of Do6lor of Physic, he re- paired to London, when he was about thirty years of age, to practise as a physician. Possessed of a lively imagination, a cheerful temper, and much acquired knowledge, he was greatly caressed, and almost insen- sibly led from those habits of temperance and absti- nence, which he had imposed upon himself in early life, from the opinion he had formed of his own delicacy of constitution. In a few years, however, he found that this mode of free living was very injurious to bis health; he grew excessively fat, short-breathed, listless, and lethargic. In the course of a short time, he was sudr denly seized with a vertiginous paroxysm, so alarming in its nature, as to approach nearly to a fit of apoplexy. His spirits became affected : he left off suppers ; con- fined himself at dinner to a very small quantity of ani- [ 61 ] mal food ; and drank very sparingly of any fermented liquors. This change in his health and habits rendered him a less acceptable companion to the jovial bon vivans with whom he had lately associated ; and he soon after retired into the country, where he exchanged light and dissipated pursuits, for the more solid satisfaction of studying some of our most able and valuable theolo- gical writers. He had never, even in his freer moments, deserted the great principles of natural religion ; but in his present retirement, he made divine revelation the more immediate object of his attention. Although Dr. Cheyne's health improved greatly, from the change of situation and low living, his com- plaints were not entirely eradicated; and he was per- suaded by his medical and other friends to try the effect of Bath ; whither he removed, and for some time felt himself considerably relieved by drinking the Water, and adopting a milk diet. He now practised as a physician in the summer at Bath, and during the winter in London, applying himself more particularly to chro- nical, and especially to low, nervous cases : at this period of his life, he generally rode on horseback ten or fifteen miles every day. Dr. Cheyne published a great number of treatises, essays, trails, Sec. &c, ; and a spirit of piety and benevolence, and an ardent zeal for the interests of virtue, are predominant throughout his writings. An amiable candour and ingenuousness, also, are discernible; and which led him to retract whatever appeared to him to be censurable in what he had formerly advanced. He had great reputation, in his own time, both as a phy- sician and a writer. Some of the metaphysical notions which are to be found in his works, may, perhaps, be thought fanciful, and ill grounded; but there is an agree- able vivacity in his productions, together with much openness and frankness, and in general great perspicuity* < [ 62 ] One of Dr. Cheyne's resolutions, to which he encTea- voured constantly to adhere, ought never to be forgotten^ '< — to neglect nothing to secure his eternal peace, any " more than if he had been certified he should die within "the day ; nor to mind any thing that his secular obli- ** gations and duties demanded of him, less than if he *^ had been insured to live fifty years." That he had some enemies, and knew how to treat them, will appear in the following lines : Dr. Wynter to Dr. Cheyne, on his Books in favour of Vegetable Diet. Tell me from whom, fat-headed Scot, Thou didst thy system learn; From Hippocrate thou hast it not. Nor Celsus, nor Pitcairne, Suppose we own that milk is good. And say the same of grass ; The one for bahes is only food. The other for an ass, Dodor ! one new prescription try, (A friend's advice forgive ;) Eat grass, reduce thyself, and die -^ Thy patients, then, may live. Dr. Cheyne to Dr. Wynter, in answer to the Joregoing. My system, Do6lor, is my own. No tutor I pretend : My blunders hurt myself alone. But yours your dearest friend. Were you to milk and straw confin'd. Thrice happy might you be 3 Perhaps you might regain your mind, . And from your wit get free» [ 63 ] ■ I cannot your prescription try^ But heartily "forgive ;" 'Tis nat'ral you should bid me die. That you yourself may live ! The following account of his decease, and sketch of Dr. Cheyne's character, appeared in one of the papers of the day: " Wednesday April 13, 1743, died at Bath, '* in the 71st year of his age, that learned physician, " sound Christian, deep scholar, and warm friend, *' Dr. George Cheyne ; so well known by his mathe- " maticaJ, as well as physical works, that nothing need '* be said as to his public character; and as to his pri- *' vate only this, that those who best knew him, most *' loved him, which must be the felicity of every man " who values himself more upon the goodness of his *' heart, than the clearness of his head ; and yet Dr. " Cheyne's works shew how much he excelled in both,'^ Dr. Cheyne had a brother, who was redor of Weston, near Bath, and both are buried in that church. LETTER XX. From Dr. Cheyne to S. Richardson. DEAR SIR, Bathy Dec. 18, 1740. W Had answered your last very obliging' letter ^ sooner, but was willing to finish that paper I promised, to enlarge your new edition of Travels through England. I think the natural histories of some of the counties published, such as Camden's, [ 64 ] Hayleri's Cosmography, Rapin, and the lives of the new edition of Bayle, might furnish out materials, under any industrious hand, to make it a very saleable and entertaining book to the middling class of gentry, who want it most, and buy most. But I wonder you make your modern bookwS in so small a type, and on so bad a paper; it must certainly disgust many, particularly the ten- der-eyed and old, who chiefly read books ; and it gives an ill impression of a book, before its cha- racter is established. It is the only thing, indeed, I have to complain of in Pamela, which entertained me and all mine (for which I thank you) extreme* ely. It will certainly sell vastly well, and I hope do a great deal of good. All my acquaintace, to whom I have recommended it, are much pleased and entertained with it. It is really finely wrought up, and delicately imagined in many incidents; and I never thought you master of so much wit and gallantry as are couched in it. It will do no dishonour either to your head or your heart. Mr. Bertram, when he went hence, told me, he had been commissioned by Mr. Rivington- to ask me when I would make up his loss in the last book I printed, which he said I promised him. I will certainly make good all my pro- mises to a tittle; but when I did promise, I had then no fear that he would be a loser, as he [ 65 1 ftow says he will. The favour I now beg of you is, to settle the matter with him ; and let all he has in hand, unbound, with the remainder of the sheets^ be packed up, and a fair account be stated ; and I promise him to pay his de^ mands on sight, and for ever bid adieu to book- writing", and book-selling". If you'll be so g-ood to adjust this matter, and let the sheets lie by you, packed up, until I can dispose of them, which shall be soon, it will be extremely obliging* It is the first of this kind, and shall be the last, though I have several things finished by me ; but I am much of Sir Walter Raleigh's opinion ; and booksellers shall not have my lucubrations to fringe the rails of Bedlam with; though I still swear, that is the best book I ever wrote, how- ever unpopular. I am sincerely yours, GEORGE CHEYNE. Let me hear when this is settled. LETTER XXL Dr. Cheyne to S. RTCiiA:RDSON, Esq, DEAR SIR, Bath^ August 14, 1741. I Have seen your letter to Mr. Leake, and read your two first sheets ; and have in a [ 66 ] few places, scratched with my pencil, where I think you may reconsider ; but I am not a proper judge of expression, and it will only serve to make you reflect on properly. I think you are right to begin with the least interesting parts, and rise gradually on the reader. I know not the plan you have laid down to yourself, and consequently cannot judge of the work, nor its success; but, without a plan, or drawing the outlines, no regular or finished picture can be wrought. I will honestly and plainly sketch out a few things in general, of which you will be the best judge whether they will suit your de- sign. If I were capable of executing such a work, I would first contrive for it as many inte- resting incidents, either distresses naturally over- come, or good fortune unexpectedly happening, as I possibly could, and make them the subject, or at least the means, of the instruction, I intended to communicate. For example : a broken leg, a disjointed limb, a dangerous fever, happening to a husband ; and then the tender care, vigi- lance, and active nursing, of a loving wife, when she would have anopportunity of insinuating all the noble, religious, and beautiful sentiments to a rakish or unconverted infidel; for such a season is the mollia tcmpora fandi. Your own fruitful imagination can work up more episodes of this^ nature, than I can here describe. [ 67 ] Secondly! I would pick out all the great events of conjunct lives, and insinuate proper behaviour under them. The death of a favour-' ite child; a sudden conflagration, of one's own, or one's neighbour's, favourite seat ; an epidemical distemper; a severe winter; a famine, &c.; quar- rels amongst neighbours and friends, and the like great and unexpected events, probably de- veloped; always beget attention in the reader, and naturally convey instruction. Thirdly ; I would make my heroine convert my hero : for religion and seriousness are more the character of the woman than the man : the first is more gentle, docile, and meek, in the main ; and the latter more sturdy, rough, and espriis forts ; and therefore the heroine should be acquainted with the best, purest, and strongest writers in morality and Christianity, and recom- mend them to her husband; especially those who write with fine taste and sentiment. Fourthly ; In particular, I think the heroine may be thrown into all the situations of the mistress of a great and opulent family; of a pru- dent wife; a tender and affectionate mother; a civil neighbour; a kind friend; a charitable steward to the poor ; and her duty and behaviour described and pointed out in all those relations, which might contain infinite lessons for the sex. r3 [ 68 ] Fifthly; You ought to avoid fondling ancl gallantry ; tender expressions, not becoming the character of wisdom, and piety, and conjugal chastity, especially in the sex. St. Paul ispeaks like a polite man, as well as a deep christian. You mind, that the Tatler lashed the shoemaker in Pall-Mall, for setting out such a variety of laced shoes in his windows. You must raise your heroine into dignity and high life by just degrees ; and sink your hero from a rake, a bully, and a fine pagan, into a senator first, then a philosopher, and, lastly, into a true spiritual christian* 1 do not mean by all this tedious detail, that you can possibly have room or patience to work np all these characters, for that would make a system of all science; but perhaps you may pick out from hence some mementos ; and you may, perhaps, have an eye to them in your going on ; but avoid drawling as much as jfou can, and let not a long penny ful tempt you to any low or vulgar thing. Readers love rapidity in narration; and quick; returns keep them from dozing* Hitherto yo\x have succeeded with all sober, serious readers, though but in low life. Now you are to try, and rise up into dignity and higher life. I know no difference in the sexes, but in their configura- tion. They are both Qf the same species, and t 69 ] differ only in order, as, in numbers, two is after one. Your heroine you have made a gentle- woman originally, and distinguished only by some ounces of shining metal. I think it im- proper, therefore, that she and her parents should ever creep and hold down their heads in the dirt ; but as man and wife, father and chil- dren, approach with humble decency to a par; at least, for my own sake, I should not permit it in my wife, had she been a milk-maid. But enough of this rhapsody. Now as to your- self : I never wrote a book in my life, but I had a fit of illness after. Hanging down your head, and want of exercise, must increase your giddiness ; the body, if jaded, will get the better of the spirits. If 3 ou look into my sheets now print- ing, you will find that Sir Isaac Newton, when he studied or composed, had only a loaf, a bottle of sack, and water ; and took no suste- nance then, but a slice of bread and a weak draught, as he found failure of spirits, from too close attention. Even in my very lowest diet of three pints of milk and six ounces of bread, in twenty-four hours, I abate one half when I study, or find my head clouded. Your friend and mine, Mr. Bertrand, tells me, you look full, puffed, short-necked, and head and face bursting with blood ; as if, by your application and se- dentary life, the whole system was spouted into [ 70 ] the head. Under such circumstances I should fear an apoplexy for you, if your moderate diet did not provide sufficiently against that; but I think seven or eight ounces of blood taken every two or three months, and the gum, assafa>tida, &c. would be Bank security against it. Your constitution is not like Dr. Hale*s. You are short, round, and plump ; he is taller, and very thin, but uses a great deal of exercise* Send me down the sheets lately printed. I am ever, dear Sir, Most sincerely your friend. And humble servant, GEORGE CHEYNE. A good library of sacred history, natural philosophy, spiritual divinity, and innocent triflers, would be very proper for your heroine ; which, if you want, and cannot otherwise pro- cure, 1 will help you to. LETTER XXII. From Dr. Cheyns to Samuel Richaeb- SON, Esq, * DEAR SIR, Bath, Jan. 10, 1741 -—2. I Have been engaged these several posts, in writing letters which lay on my hands [ 71 ] these holidays ; and could not answer yoiir's sooner. It is not material to your new regimen, these trimming' intermissions you make in it; the only inconveniency in it is, that they con- tinue your regret for the flesh-pots of Egypt a little longer alive ; and you must absolutely die to them, that you may live, I tried all those tricks long and much, and only found they pro- longed my dying pains. On experience, I found it best to do as Sir Robert said of the Bishop of Sarum, he bravely plunged to the bottom at the first jump. He who is in the fire should get out as soon as he can ; either the method is necessary and safe, or it is not; if it is, the sooner the better; if it is not, time only can shew it- He that has plenty of wholesome vegetables cannot starve; and it is very odd, that what is the only antidote for distempers when one has them, should cause them wllen one has them not, or, at least, has them not to any dangerous degree. The coming into the regimen slowly can only postpone the distemper it may produce a few days or weeks longer ; indeed, all that the voluptuous say about that, is mere farce and ridicule. As to Chandler, he was ever a volup- tuary and epicure, and at venison time every year makes himself sick, dispirited, and va- pourishing ; and yet he was younger than you, when he entered upon it; and I am of opinion if [ '2 ] he had not, he had been in Bedlam long e'er jiow ; for he has naturally a warm imagination, and an inflamed fancy. Dr. Hulse knows nothing of the matter. He is, indeed, a very good practitioner in drugs, and on canibalsin their inflammatory distempers ; but he knows no more of nervous and cephalic dis^ eases, than he does of the mathematics and phi- losophy, to which he is a great enemy, and without them little is to be made of such dis- orders. There may be times and seasons when a little indulgence in chicken, and a glass or two of wine, may not only be convenient, but ne- cessary, as a person stops to take his breath in ascending a steep hill ; for example, on cold catching, a nausea, or inappetency, &c. I can honestly assure you, all the plunges I have ever felt these twenty years, since I en- tered upon a low rtgimen, have been from my errors in quantity, and endeavouring to extend it ; and I nevpr get quite free of them, but by pumping the excesses up by evacuation, and re- turning rigidly to the lujhiest and least I could be easy under from the anxiety of hunger; and you will find this the surest rule to go by; for abstinence, even under a low diet, is some^ times as necessary as under a high diet. 1 find by your's, you go on timorously, grudg- ipg"^}'* and repiningly. It is true you are iio% [ 73 ] a physician, but you are, I hope, a christian. St. Paul kept his body under. Our Saviour bids us fast and pray, and deny ourselves without ex- ception ; but for this there is no need of reve- lation advice. If you read but what I have written on this last, in the Essay on Regimen, as the means of long life and health ; or Cor- naro's and Lessius's little treatise, your own good sense would readily do the rest; but you puzzle yourself with friends, relations, doctors, and apo- thecaries, who either know nothing of the matter; are well under a common diet ; or, whose interest it is, or at least that of the craft, to keep you al- ways ailing, or taking poisonous stuff; and so you are perplexed and disheartened. I have gone the whole road, had one of the most cadave- rous and putrified constitutions that ever was known; and, I thank God, am returned safe and sound at seventy, every way well, but the in- curable infirmities of age. And surely he kaows the road better, who has gone to, and come from, the Cape of Good Hope, and tried all the soundings, rocks, shelves, and winds, than those who have only seen them in the map. In a word, dear Sir, I can give you, in your present state, no better advice than I have, were you my father or brother, or that my life and fortune depended on your being well. So God guide you well. [ 74 ] I have g'ot two dozen of my last book, and am very well pleased with the print, paper, and binding. I have considered it again and again, and cannot mend it for my life, in any thing ma- terial. Perhaps the doctrine will not go quite so clearly down, so long as I myself am alive; but if men grow wiser or better, they will swallow it ; and I believe, even as the world is, it will enter- tain as well as instruct them, having so many interesting incidents in it: so as I hope I shall have no reason to fear being used by my new booksellers as I was by my last ; and if you see any of them, tell them so, if you think fit. As to the last part of Pamela, all the fault the world has to find with it, is what I told you in my last ; they say there is too much preaching in it. It is too long, too drawling, and the passions not suflaciently agitated. The booksellers here say it sells very well, but not so quick as the first. When you write me next, let me know how many of the last book was printed ; perhaps I may add to another edition, or, at least, by some additions and alterations, make them dif- ferent volumes of one work ; but you know, at my time of life, I can promise nothing for futu- rity. I am, dear Sir, Your most faithful humble servant, GEORGE CHEYNE. f 75 ] LETTER XXIIL Dr, Cheyne to Sam. Richardson, Esq, BEAR SIR, Bath, Jan. 14, 1742. YOU are a little naug-bty : because but once, (by having my fingers, ink, and brain frozen up by the most excessive cold weather I ever felt,) I neglected a few posts answering yours; you have been three weeks without writ- ing to me, to let me know how it fared with you, though you knew it was one of my greatest pleasures to hear of your welfare. You was resolved only to give me tit for tat ; however, I am pleased to hear from you even at your own, or any, rate ; and answer yours the very post after, only to procure me a more speedy return. I think you are quite in the right to give over all bleeding for the future. Your blood is certainly as good as it can be; which absolutely, under God, secures your life, (for ** in the blood is the life thereof.") So your diet will always keep it sweet and balsamic, and your whole care is to brace your solids and nerves ; but that is a very hard work, and only to be performed to a certain point or degree, at [ 76 ] your time of life. I wish in summer, in the long vacation, you would come and try our Lyn- combe waters ; they have done great service in such a case. Your great admirer, Miss Peggy, finds that benefit by them, which only Spa water supplies in this cold weather. She is just of the same standing with you in the diet. I never promised her a total cure under three years ; and J fear you will want one more to carry your cure as high as it will go. Take all the exercise you conveniently can; time must do the rest, and I hope much from warm weather and next summer. One comfort you must have, that things will never be worse than they have been, and that there is no danger of life or limbs, further than a little tottering, which too will lessen. The ten days of so excessive cold weather almost deprived me of the use of all my limbs, took away my appetite, especially from milk, my only support; but, I thank God, since the wea- ther has been more temperate, I have, in a great measure, recovered all again; though I fear I shall never recover my walking again to the same degree; and am forced to perform my poo^ limbering, tottering exercise within my house^ which is neither so pleasant nor so effectual : but now I hope the worst of the winter is over, and that I shall rise again a little with the in^ [ 77 ] sects. All ray family, wife, daughters, Nanny, &c. (they are honest people) admire you; and if you had not very good women of your own, you might have your choice. Peggy says, you are the perfect original of your own Pamela ; and that generosity and giving, which in others are only acquired virtues, are in you a natural pas* sion; and as others, even the best, only like to give as much as to receive, you only like to give. I thank you for your oysters, which w^e shall receive to-morrow, and your book of pluralities when it comes. I have been much distressed this low time for choice of kill-time books. The public library has afforded none of any value ; and though I bribe our booksellers more than any others, they can give me nothing. I am ashamed to be always begging ; but this now I think you will not grudge, since it will cost you but little. As soon as you can, send me a romance, called the Dean of Colraine. There is one part of it in English, which I have seen ; I know not if the rest be translated. I would rather have it in English; but since, I believe, that can't be, if you would send me the French, you will oblige me. The first part is inte- resting, and much on the side of virtue. I hear Pope is to beat Cibber, in an addition to his Dunciad. When it appears, I should be glad to see it with the first. [ 78 ] You see I am not shy with you. I can oblige you in nothing but my warm wishes, and those you have many titles to from. Dear Sir, your's, GEORGE CHEYNE. LETTER XXIV. From Dr. Cheyne'^o S. Richardson, Esq, BEAR SIR, Bath, Sept, 23, 1742. YOUR last gave a great deal of joy to me, as well as to your friends and relations. I hope truly that your case is not so bad as I at first feared, as your friends represented, and as your nervous eloquence often painted it, 1 am sure your constitution is sound as yet, both from your complexion, (which will always shew when it is very bad, but not always when it is perfectly good, a nervous flush often imitating a healthy blush not to be distinguished,) and from the state of your blood. You have quite a wrong notion about the hyp, as in truth all but sensible physicians have. We call the hyp every distemper attended with lov^ness of spirits, whether it be from indiges- tion, head pains, or an universal relaxed state^ [ 79 ] of the nerves, with numbness, weakness, start- ing's, tremblings, &c,! So that the hyp is only a short expression for any kind of nervous dis- order, with whatever syiifptoms, (which are various, nay infinite,) or from whatever cause. I should really think your nervous disorder was chiefly from want of due exercise, too much head work, and great plenty : the beginning of an uni- versal palsy, and not what your wise apothecary terms it, a hemiplege, which is indeed a half body one, and is of the very worst kind. But I will, under Goo, insure you against it now; for, as I have often told you, when the fire is broken and scattered, the conflagration cannot rise to so great nor dangerous a height as it did before. I think you have gained a mighty point, if you can walk from Hammersmith to London down to Salisbury Square ; and that, in time, will free you from the expense of coaching and ehaising ; for, though I think exercise absohiteiy necessary for you, it is no matter how ; and next to riding* I prefer walking to all kinds of exercise ; and though you may not be able to walk from Ham- mersmith to London all weather, yet with a cloak you may walk the same length in your garden, after sweeping off the snow, as I have often done, and may do still. As to your old apothecary's soot drops, T have often mentioned them to you ; and if his be very good, keep them r 80 J by you to take as a dram, on occasion, or in any sadden plunge or lowness ; but as an alterative, to be taken by a continuance, they are of no use, but on the contrary; and are just a dram or an opiat to g'ain time and quiet ; and untver- sally, 1 conjure you, to take nothing from an apothecary, as long as you can do tolerably without. I beseech you, by neither doctor, apothecary, patient, or friend, be put out of this method ; and (under God) I will answer for the success. I am glad yau have got some kind of hobby-horse in the bowls ; they ar^ an excellent diversion. I wish you would per^ suade yourself to learn and delight in billiards. It is worth your while to buy a table, and good sticks, and balls. It is a charming and manly diversion ; and, (which indeed is most valuable,) is best in worst weather. Your wife, your daughter, your acquaintance, or any one, might be brought to be company, in billiards. I wish I could have gone into it. It has done Mr. Allen more service than any one thing ex- cept his diet, and is fit for all ages, conditions^ and tempers ; but I have so confined myself, that I conld never bear any active diversion. It might, in a short time, supply the place of a chaise to you. Think on it : if not for health, yet for frugality. I would have you, by all means, so long as the weather continues good. [ sr ] get clown with yoitr friend to Salisbury. De^^ cline no opportunity of jaunting with any secure person, that will let you take your own way ; for I well know a nervous person must have his own way, both in dietj conversation, exer- cise, hours of rest and amusement, else he must suffer to extremity at the time, and be worse after ; and had I not had this granted me by indulgent Heaven, in my situation, and with my load of distempers, I must have been extremely miserable ; and all nervous persons must be in- dulged in these, and in short give up complying with, and conforming to, the forms and ceremo^ nies established by custom, or other people's errors. And it is a wise contrivance in Pro- vidence to make the young, the healthy, the indigent, servants, both to break the rebellious- ness of corrupt nature, and to be able to assist the old and tender, especially the nervous. _I wish you would think of employing a fit person to collect, and write a character and contents of, all the books' in the English or French, that are fit to amuse and instruct the serious and virtuous valetudinarian, of whatever kind ; such a catalogue, if judiciously collected by a man of virtue and taste, would be a great charity ; would be well received by the virtuous and serious of all parties ; vrould be of great service to the fair sex ; and would keep many [ 82 I jiersons from the playhouse and the tavern, and perhaps from worse places. This would come in very aptly with the desig^n bf Pamela ; and might, perhaps, be called a cata- logue of her library. The character of such books should be, that they were on the side of pure virtue, without much love affairs ; that they were interesting, and gently soothing the ami- able passions of friendship, benevolence, and charity ; and thirdly, that they had a sufficient mixture of the probable and the marvellous to keep the soul awake, and prevent its too intense thinking on its own misfortunes. Such a cata- logue for England would be as useful as Bedlam is, and perhaps more so. If this were begun, great improvements might be made in it in a short time ; and all the ingenious booksellers should be requested to club in it, for it would be much for their interest, I have set James Leake on it, but he can do but little in it, having neither sufficient materials, time, nor knowledge. It must come through many hands, to be what I would have it, London is the only place for it. You see how much pains I am at to amuse you, but I hope it will not lessen the compliment, when I tell you that it equally amuses myself. With the best wishes, I am ever, dear Sir, your's, GEORGE CHEYNE. [ 83 T LETTER XXV. Srom Dr\ Cheyne to S. RicharbsoNj Esq, DEAR SIR, Bathy Sept. 17, 1742* I Have yours, and am glad you go on in the same tenor in the main, though not equally hig-h and bright: that is impossible in the nature of this Proteus distemper ; but you will be al- ways getting ground, though not always sensibly; but you must have faith, patience, and perse- verance ; w hich, you know, are sublime, christian, as well as nervous, virtues. I really expected a plunge about the equinoxial season, as I have mostly observed in myself, and all nervous pa- tients. The luminaries have an effect on animal juices, especially the tender and valetudinary, analogous to that they have on the ocean and atmosphere; but I hope the season is pretty well over with you. Mr. Chandler is here. His health is high, his spirits rather fermenting than placid, his complexion fresh, and his activity infinite. He is a sensible man, and one of the fittest you can converse with. He is in perpetual motion, when he does not study ; and says, walking and ex- ercise, even delving and working, did him a« g2 - [ 84 ] much service, or more, than the medicine, and is the next best remedy, except the diet; but I blame him, for be* eats meat a little again, once or twice a week; but cannot bear a single glass of wine, without being the worse for it. Go on, and prosper. As to the catalogue of books, for tbe devout, the tender valetudinarian, and ner- vous, I, and all that I have mentioned it to, be- lieve that it would be of greater use in England, than any book or mean, that has been proposed, to promote virtue, and relieve the distrest. I say more than any that has been projected these many years, if judiciously and experimentally executed by proper persons ; but time, experi- ence, and different persons, though all lovers of evangelical virtue, must be employed, for others can have neither taste nor judgment in such a work. It ought to contain a catalogue of all the best, easiest, and most genuine books in all the arts or sciences; as, first, spiritual and religious w^orks, of the most approved and practical books of Christianity ; 2dly, the most entertaining books of history, natural and politital ; 3dly, travels, and the accounts of all countries and nations ; 4thly, allegorical adventures and no- vels, that are religious, interesting, and probable; 5thly; poetry, divine and moral; Gthly, choice plays, (if any such,) as recommend virtue and good manners; with a short character, and a [ 85 1 hint of the design, and a just criticism, in a few words, of such books, their editions, and where most likely to be found, in English or French, to which two languages I would have them confined. As to the last part, it must be exe- cuted by a person of temperance, virtue, and learning ; w ho^ with a good taste, has true lite- rature. Where to find such a person, you know best ; but I think the parts of it ought to be collected by different persons, of different talents, and finished and put together by one properly qualified person. The best model I can propose, would belike the catalogue of the mystic writers, published by Mr.Poiret; wherein their character and contents are finely and elegantly painted, in a small octavo, in Latin, which probably may be found at Mr. Vailante's shop in the Strand. At least I had it there, being printed in Holland. But, indeed, a proper person could do it his own way ; and there are variety of models for such a work in French, but none in English I know of. The schoolmasters who have attempted such a thing for their school, being too low. If this were finely executed, I know of no book that would run better, or be of more service. Every serious person, both male and female, especiall}/ this last, would have it. Perhaps I can make a preface, with some philosophical and medical observations to recommend it^ and suggest [ 86 ] many proper books, particularly books of pliysic, which will be absolutely necessary in sneh a catalogue, but which I forgot to enumerate in the titles of the sciences I have suggested above, but which I could promise to collect for such a work. In short, think of it : talk of it among the brethrea j look out proper persons, and let nie see the collections, and I will contribute all in my power and leisure to its perfection. It m^,y amuse you agreeably, and that will con- tribute to your cure j which is most ardently "Vyished by, dear Sir, your's, most sincerely, GEORGE CHEYNE, LETTER XXVL To Samuel Richardson, Esq. Bath, April 21, 1743. PEAR AND HONOURED SIR, I Should have given you a letter sooner, on a subject you must naturally want to be in- formed of, if the ill health of pur family had not prevented. Indeed I should have wrote long before, if it had been thought necessary to ac- qi^^iint the friend? of the late gopd Doctor, of his indisposition; but his friends at this place wejre L 87 ] not less surprised than his absent ones at the news of his death. It was about ten days before his decease that he was confined to the house by illness, together with symptoms of the disorder that has lately spread itself so universally. On Thursday, about {ive days after the seizure, my father visited the Doctor; Mr. Bertrand did the same the day following"; but my father's illness coming- on the day following prevented me paying the duty I owed to a great and good friend. We continued daily our inquiries, but never received an answer that alarmed us with an apprehension of his danger. But, alas! the whole time he wasted prodigiously. Though the Doctor's friends were not appre- hensive of his imminent danger, he himself was. He talked to his family of his death as of a natural consequence, though he did not imagine it so near; and it was not till the day before it happened, that he consulted a physician. Dr. Hartley was sent for, but he was at Mr. Allen's;* and when he came down in the evening, Dr. Middleton, Mrs. Cheyne's brother, was come over from Bristol, and had been with the Doctor. He went into the bedchamber, but the Doctor was dozing. The next morning he visited him about eight : be was then very easy, but bis puls<2 * Prior- Park. [ 88 ] was g-oae. He did not know Dr. Hartley, as he had not seen him in his illness, bnt he was still sensible. It was not above ten minutes after he left him, that the Doctor left this world. His death was easy, and his senses .remained to the last. To consider the circumstances of your health, and that there is taken from you, by the Divine wisdom, one in whose mind the direction of it was a good deal lodged ; it is impossible b.it we must look to the Almighty Disposer, and then see the same power capable of making up that loss to you a thousand different ways. Reflec- tions of this sort are natural ; and we must know, that these, and much greater, are as natural to you. Even the wisest sentiments on this head would be but a repetition of your thoughts. The ivorld has lost a,, able physician; you, my dear Sir, a valuable friend; and I, one greater than my merit. As long as health shall be reckoned a blessing, and the preservation of life a duty, both rich and poor must condole the death of their common benefactor; and those honourable families, which have so frequently and succes- sively resorted hither for his advice," must now be daily more sensible of the power of diseases, and apprehensive of their approaching fate. Your's, &c. .___ [ 89 3 Dr. HARTLEY, DAVID HARTLEY, Esq; Mrs. MARY HARTLEY. Doctor Hartley, the celebrated author of ^^ Ob- '* servations on Man, his Frame, his Duty, and his *' ExpevSlations," was born at Illingworth in Yorkshire, the 30th of August, 1705, and died at Bath the 28th of the same month. 1757, at the age of 52 years. It is a rare occurrence in the history of the human mind, to find such deep powers of reasoning so early developed, as was the case in Dr. Hartley. But he was a philo- sopher almost from boyhood, and manifested a turn for reflediion, religious and moral enquiry, and metaphysical speculation, at that youthful season, which is usually devoted to thoughtlesness and dissipation, or at best to the pursuits of fancy and imagination. His piety was ardent, but devoid of enthusiasm, as appears from his letters ; and also from a series of beautiful and affe6ling^ prayers, which he composed for his own private use between the 2 1 st and 30th years of his age. Dr. Hartley was held in the highest estimation by the greatest, wisest, and best men of the last age ; who were attracted to his friendship, not more by an admiration of his intellect, than an affection for the excellence of his heart. His system, as faras regards the association of ideas, still con- tinues to be popular; and although the physiological part of it has been in a great measure exploded; yet it must be recollected, that the arguments against it are still only negative^ and that its opponents have not offered [ 90 ] to the world any thing more satisfactory than it on the subject, or which better harmonizes with the known phenomena of mind. The letters from his daughtey, Mrs. Mary Hartley, which follow, contain so many interesting particulars of the Doctor's life, character, and opinions, that it is unnecessary lo add more re- specting them at present. We pass on, therefore, to Pay ID Hartley, the son of Dr. H. by his first wife, who was born in the year 1735, and who inherted much of his father's acuteness, with all his moral virtues. With the advantage of an excellent education, which had been polished by travel, Mr. David Hartley early entered on political life, represented the town of Hull in many successive Parliaments, and was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary at the Court of Versailles, to settle with Dr. Franklin preliminaries of peace after the J\merican war, which he signed, on the behalf of the British Court, in 1783. Plain in his mode of life, retired in his habits, and with great simplicity of character and manner, Mr. Hartley seemed better qualified for philosophical lei- sure, than the bustle of a political career; and the hours which he borrowed from public business, were devoted to scientific pursuits, and useful as well as ingenious inventions. Amongst the latter may be mentioned the iron plates, for under-casing the iloors of apartments, in order to prevent accidents from fire; for which contrivance a reward was voted to him, by Par- liament, of £2500, He died the 2Sd day of December,, 1814, aged 84. Mrs. Mary Ha rtley was the daughter of Dr. Hartley, by his second wife. Equally remarkable for snperior understanding, and elegant acquirement, she possessed every qualification for attracting a large share of public admiration, h^d not a« amiable diflide^ but without these, the longest will not. [ 99 ] !Pray give my duty to my aunt and uncle. I beg" pardon for not behaving' to her as I ought ; and return her thanks for all her care and kind- ness. Dear sister, accept of my best advice and love. You may observe, that I recommend cheerfulness and quickness to you, as what I fear both you and I are defective in* 1 am your's, &c* D. HARTLEY. 1 am turned preacher, as agreeable to the day, in this letter ; but if you will send me an ans vver, the next shall be more entertaining. I am in good hopes to get £15 or £16 a year in the University, and am fitting myself for that ho- nourable society. Pray pardon haste. LETTER XXIX* From Dr. Hartley, a^ed 29, to Mrs. Booth^ DEAR SISTER, BurT/, 3farch 2, 1734-5, I Received yours some time ago, aiid wrote the next post to my sister Sarah ; but as I had a letter, a post or two ago, from my brother h2 [ 100 ] Jolin, which mentions nothing of her, I am afraid my letter to her has miscarried. Pray enquire about it, and let me know how she does. My little boy* is very well. Mr. Walton and I manage our house tolerably well. We are both very abstemious, and neither drink ale nor wine ; which, besides the advantage it is of to my health and spirits, keeps me from a great deal of troublesome company, and saves a con- siderable expense. I study much harder than I ever did, and am much more cheerful and happy. I have lately gained the knowledge of some things in physic, which have been of great use to me ; but the chief of my studies are upon religious subjects, and especially upon the true^ meaning of the Bible. I cannot express to you what inward peace and satisfaction these con- templations afford me. You remember how much I was overcome with superstitious fears, when I ^as very young. I thank God, that He has at last brought me to a lively sense of his infinite goodness and mercy to all his creatures; and that I see it both in all his works, and in ever}*^ page of his word. This has made me much more indifferent to the world than ever, at the same time that I enjoy it more ; has taught me to love every man, smd to rejoice in the happiness vs^hich our Hea- * The late David Hartley, esq. [ 101 ] venly Father intends for all his children ; and has quite dispersed all the gloomy and melancholy thoughts which arose from the apprehension of eternal misery for myself or my friends. How long", or how much, God will punish wicked men, He has no where said ; and, therefore, I cannot at all tell ; but of this I am sure, that in ^^ judgment He will remember merci/;"" that " He " will not be extreme to mark what is done " amiss;" that '• He chastens only because He "'^ loves j" that " He will not return to destroy ;" because he is God, not man, ^. e, has none of our foolish passions and resentments; that *^ his " tender mercies are over all his works;" and that " He is love itself." I could almost trans- cribe the whole Bible; and the conclusion I draw from all this is, first, that no man can ever be happy, unless he is holy ; unless his affections be taken off from this vain world, and set upon a better; unless he loves God above all things, and his neighbour as himself : Secondly, that all the evils and miseries which God sends upon us, are for no other purpose but to bring us to Himself; to the knowledge and practice of our duty; and that, as soon as that is done, they will have an end. Many men are so foolish as to fight against God all their lives, and to die full of obstinacy and perverseness. However, God'« method of dealing with them in another world [ 102 3 IS still full of mercy, at the same time that it is gevere. He will force them to comply, and make them happy, whether they will or no. In the mean time, those who are of an humble and contrite heart, have nothing to fear, even here, God will conduct them through all the afflic- tions, which He thinks fit to lay upon them for their good, with infinite tenderness and com- passion. 1 wish these thoughts may be as ser- viceable to you, as they have been to me. My best respects. Your's, D. HARTLEY, LETTER XXX. From Mrs. M. Hartley to the Rev. William Gilpin^ DEAR SIR, Belvedere f 1796. I Am very glad that you were pleased with my father's letters. The account of his life, which you recommended to our filial piety, has been already given by my brother D. H. in the second edition of my father's work, which was reprinted by Johnson in 1791. It is an history of my father's principles and opinions, particularly with relation to his book. [ 103 ] This subject my brother D. H. was able to treat more scientifically than my brother W. H. or I could have done; but we all joined, with truth and affection, in bearing testimony to his amiable moral character. It was equally the sentiment of us all^ from faithful recollection, " that his mind was formed ** to benevolence and universal philanthropy. *' It arose from the union of talents in the moral ** science with natural philosophy, and particu- ** larly from the professional knowledge of the ** human frame, that Doctor Hartley was enabled ** to bring into one view the various arguments *' for his extensive system, from^the first rudi- " ments of sensation, through the maze of com- *' plex affections and passions in the path of life, *' to the final, moral end of man. *' He was industrious and indefatigable in the ** pursuit of all collateral branches of knowledge ** and lived in personal intimacy with the learned '* men of his age. Dr. Law, Dr, Butler, Dr. *' Warburton, afterwards Bishops of Carlisle, ** Durham, and Glocester, and Dr. Jortin, were *' his intimate friends, and fellow-labourers in ** moral and religious philosophy, in metaphysics, " in divinity, and ecclesiastical history. He ** was much attached to the highly respected ** character of Bishop Hoadley, for the liberality " of his opinions both in church and state, and [ 104 ] ^' for the freedom of his religious sentiments. ^* Dr. Hales, and Dr. Smith, master of Trinity *^ college, Cambridge, with other members of ^' the Royal Society, were his companions in the " sciences of optics, statics, and other branches " of natural philosophy. Mr. Hawkins Browne, " the author of an elegant Latin poem, " De '* Animi Immortalitaie,'' and Dr. Young, the ^' moral poet, stood high in his esteem. Dr. ** Byrom, the inventor of a scientific short-hand " writing, was much respected by him for useful *' and accurate judgment in the branch of phi - ^* lology. Mr. Hook, the Roman historian, and '^ disciple of the Newtonian chronology, was ** amongst his literary intimates., The celebrated ** Mr. Pope was likewise admired by him, not ** only as a man of genius, but also as a moral poet. ** A^et as Dr. Hartley was a zealous christian ** without guile, and (if the phrase may be ad- ** mittec!) a partizan for the christian religion, " he felt some jealousy of the rivalship of human " philosophy ; and regarded the " Essay on Man," " by Mr. Pope, as tending to insinuate, that the *' divine revelation of the Christian religion was " superfluous, in a case where human pilosophy " wa.> adequate. He suspected the secret in- ** flue nee of Lord Eo ling broke as guiding the *' poetical pen of his unsuspecting friend, to deck ^* out, in borrowed plumes, the plagiarisms of [ 105 ] ^Mnodern ethics, from christian doctrines; not *' without farther distrust of the insidious effect " of poetic license, in softening" some iinaccom- '* modating" points of moral truths. It was *^ against this principle that bis jealousy was di- *^ rected. His heart, from conscious sympathy ** of human infirmities, was devoid of religious " pride. His only anxiety was, to preserve the " rule of life inviolate, because he deemed errors '* of human frailty less injurious to the moral '* cause, than systematical perversions of its ^* principle." I could not help quoting this passage, because it is that part of his character which I know will interest you most; and you grstify me by saying, that you have alw ays had an high respect for him. The physician you speak of, who lived in Nottinghamshire, must have been him. He practised first at Newark, when he w^as a very young man ; and before he was married to his first vi'ife, D. H.'s mother. She was the daughter of a Mr. Rowley, a lawyer, in Essex, of a re- spectable family; and I have het\rd she was very handsome, and very engaging. He was extremely in love with her, but he did not enjoy his union with her for more than a year, for she died in bringing D. FI. into the world. He was ex- tremely afilicted, and remained attached to her meippry all his life; notwithstanding that, he had [ 106 ] the strongest and most rational friendship foP my mother, who was (as long as she retained her understanding) a woman of a most exalted mind, elegant, accomplished, and uniting *' manly sense ** to more than female tenderness/* He re- spected, esteemed, and loved her; but his first wife had had his youthful heart. He once gave me some Latin lines he made upon her death. I now know not where to seek them : if ever I find them, I will enclose them to you. You say, that, " by the dates, you imagine the physician ^' who lived in Notts could not be my father;'* but this was possibly from your not being aware how very young he was at that time. He was born in 1 705 ; and I suppose he could not be more than 22 or 23 years of age, when he prac- tised at Newark, When ho married Miss Rowley, he could not be more than 24. He then settled at Bury, where he was much known and esteemed by all the principal families in that neighbour, hood ; particularly those of Lord Cornwallis, and Lord Townshend. The old Lord Townshend (then Secretary of State) treated him with as much kindness as if he had been an additional son, and all the sons and daughters as an addi- tional brother. The same friendly attachment continued to subsist between this family and ours since my father's death. r 107 ] I used to spend a great deal of time in the house of Mr. Thos. Tovvnskend, (Lord Sydney's father,) as long as he lived. I never knew a more ingenuous and affectionate mind than his; and amono* the most intimate and cordial friends I have ever had in the world, are his sons and daughters, Lady Middleton and LadyTownshend. Neither, indeed, does this descent of affection stop here ; for all Lady Middleton's children, and all Lord Sydney's, (though of the latter I have seen little since they were children,) are still my friends, as their parents were. This continuation of friendship is delightful to me; particularly as I owe it originally to the excellent characters and dispositions of my father and mother. But to proceed with my history. It was in 1735, that my father married my mother. She was the daughter of Robert Parker, member for Berkshire. I know not exactly how he became acquainted with her, hnt I believe it was at the house of one of her relations, \vho liv^d in Suffolk. Her family were against the match, and did for some time retard it ; but her father was dead ; she was her own mistress, and she followed that inherent love of virtue, which taught her, that the affection of a heart like my father's was of more value than wealth or titles. Her brothers thought not so; and though my father was the [ 108 ] kindest of brothers to them, they treated him always with hauteur. They died at last without heirs, and my miother of course inherited the settled estate ; but even then they left from her the unsettled part, and gave it to my brother W. H, over her husband. This was a disrespect to my mother, which I think she must have felt ; but her disposition was of the meekest, gentlest nature, and she never shewed it. My uncles were men of the world, and men of pleasure. They knew not my father's value ; and were even offended with him for the true kindness he shewed them, in giving them good advice. They drank hard, which you know •was a vice, that compelled him, both as a physi- cian and a moralist, to endeavour to dissuade them from. At such interference they would sometimes be angry; but when they were in their best humour with him, they w^ould sa\'^ " You foolish dog, can'st you see, that the sooner " we kill ourselves, the better it will be for you <* and your family." He did, notwithstanding, persist in his kind endeavours ; and I find among his MS. devotions, a very anxious and ardent prayer for them. From the year 1735 or 1736, to 1742, my father lived in London,wherehehad great prac- tice; but at that time he left town, partly on ray mother's account, who was thought to be con- [109 ] sumptive, and partly because he bad a painful complaint himself, which made him unable to bear the motion of a carriag-e. In 1742 he settled at Bath, where he remained till he died, except when he went for the summer to one of my mother's country houses. Once we spent nearly a year at Donnington Castle, where my father had some thoughts of residing ; and though he afterwards returned to Bath, yet he went as often as he was able to Little Sodbury, where my brother W. H. was educated under a pri- vate tutor. But these are little circumstances, of no con- sequence ; and my brother has not mentioned them in his sketch of my father's life. Biogra- phical writers are often too circumstantial in little things, which are not characteristic, par- ticularly with regard to men who have been memorable by their writings, and not by their actions. In the life of a General, it is material to know in what part of the world he spent such and such years; but it is not material to know in what town an author wrote such and such a book. What relates to his temper and turn of mind is material; therefore it is proper to say^ (and my brother has said,) that my father's pro- fession was not that for which he was orig^inallv intended. He directed his studies for a long" time to divinity, and intended to have taken [ 110 ] orders; but upon closer consideration of the conditions attached to the clerical profession, he felt scruples, which made him reluctant to sub- scribe to the Thirty-nine Articles. Yet he was by no means a dissenter, as Dr. Priestley has had a mind to make the world believe. On the contrary, my father, though doubtful about some theological points, thought them of Httle consequence to real morality ; and he conformed to the customs of the Established Church, at- tending its worship constantly. Perhaps I ought to apologize for troubling you with so much family history ; but as I have been used to receive from you the most inte- resting histories of your own family, I hope I don't flatter myself too much, in supposing that you may be as much interested about mine, as I am about yours. For my jjiide in delineating their amiable virtues, I will not apologize ; because I believe you will feel with me, that there is a rational pride in the consciousness of being descended from worthy characters; and this pride, perhaps^, becomes even praiseworthy, if it stimulate us to endeavour to imitate or emulate them. Believe me, dear Sir, Your sincere and affectionate friend,. M. H. E ni ] LETTER XXXI. JFrom Dr, Hartliiy, to his son Davib Hart- ley, Esq; on his setting out on his Travels* MY DEAR CHILD, Soclburif, Aug. 1755. AS you are now entering upon a new and important scene of life, in which you will both enjoy great opportunities of improving yourself in all that is praiseworthy, and be ex- posed to many temptations ; I think it my duty, as your most affectionate parent, and sincerest friend in this world, to give you, in writing, the best instructions I am able to do in regard to your conduct. They may be the last I shall ever give you, for life is uncertain where the prospect is fairest; and besides this, 1 ought to bear in mind my advancing years, and particular infirmi- ties, and you the hazards that necessarily attend a course of travels. May God teach us both " so " to number our days, that we may apply our " hearts to wisdom." May He give me a mouth, and wisdom to speak, and you ears to hear; and so bless what I shall say, that you may pass through this world with health of body and mind, with the love and esteem of your friends, and with a competency of all that is necessary Qr convenient for you ; and at your departure [ 112 ] from it, be rewarded with that crown of glory which lie hai^ prouiised to all that love and obey hini. The first and principal precept is, what I liave just now mentioned, to love and obey God. I might have added, to fear Him ; because this is also a scriptural precept, and arises necessarily' from the consideration of his infinite povver, pu- rity, knowledge, and justice. But if we love and obey God, the fear of Him will be no more than a limited filial fear; consistent with the reasonable enjoyments of the blessings of this life, and even productive of the inestimable hopes of happiness in another, i. e* as St, John expresses it, ** Perfect love casteth out all such ** fear as hath torment.'* But now, you will say, I know that it is my duty and only happiness to love and obey God, but how shall I do this? " I delight in the law of God, after the inner ** man, but I ^nd another law in my members, " warring against the law of my mind." — Pray to him for help and strength. He can and will give you the victory. You Imow that there is nothing in my power that / should deny you ; but you are his child moi^e than you are mine^ and He loves you infinitely belter than 1 can. With how^ much certainty, then, may you expect that He will give you his holy spirit, if yott ask Him ; and that He will make his yoke easy, and his [ 113 ] burthen light, if you will take them upon you ! and that He will enable you to do that with pleasure, which, to our corrupt nature, seems impossible. A belief of the real efficacy of prayer is es- sential, both to religion and to comfort. But what is more evident, according either to reasom or to scripture, than that the Author of our spirits expects homage from them, and will give blessings in return? The principal use and intent of all earthly appellations, relations, trans- actions, &c. is, not to produce earthly happiness, (for that, you must see, and feel, is very little, when accounts are fairly balanced,) but to be patterns of heavenly things, and, like the law, school- masters to brin^ us to Christ. Do not, there- fore, entertain an opinion, which is too much favoured by some very good books, that the use of prayer is to alter and improve our own minds, by raising devout affections of a proper kind in them : this is a great and real use, undoubtedly ; but we shall never pray with that requisite ne- cessary, faith, unless we go like children to their parents, or like subjects to a gracious prince. This is the language of the scriptures, and agree- able to the plain reason of the thing ; and if we apply to God in this manner, purifying our hearts and hands, so that we may be assured of obtaining what we ask, or something better, or I t 114 ] both one atid the other : which last is, perhaps, g-enerally the case, where men pray with great earnestness, perseverance, and resignation. The same plain reasons, and scripture expres- sions, shew the great obligation and happiness 6f public prayer as well as private, and of fre- quenting the sacrament. Let me just remind you of that remarkable promise of our Saviour, '* Where two or three are gathered together in *^ my name, there am I in the midst of them.'* I will add one word with regard to mental prayer, I mean not only frequent incidental ejaculations in the course of the day, but more devout aspirations of the heart to God, without distinct expressions ; and which may be called the great secret of a pious and happy life. But 1 find it very difficult to attain to this great secret. I am persuaded, however, that it is at- tainable; and may be practised, not only without interruption to the proper business and innocent pleasures of human life, but also to the unspeak- able joy of all those who labour after it in earnest. The means of grace next of importance to prayer, is the reading of religious books. W$ may, by these means, bring our minds to right dispositions, and by degrees arrive at the happy stale of making duty and pleasure coincide. Don't grudge the time that is thus spent in the transformation of your mind. Mens cujusque t 113 1 est qidsque. If you bring* yourself to delight in that which you may always have here, in that treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust cloth corrupt, and which no thief can steal away^ your state wdll be paradisaical, even in this world. Depend upon it, there are persons who have at- tained to this happy states and though they be few, though the greater part even of those few be such as have been forced from their vices and evil habits by great affliction, yet, the blessing is offered to all, to the young, and healthy, and prosperous, as well as to others. It is, however, more particularly attainable by those who have had a religious education, and are endowed with generous principles. These persons have a more ready conception of the language of good books, and their hearts sympathise more intensely with the sentiments contained therein; and I hope that you are in this happy number. But if it should be difficult and irksome to you, at first, thus to cultivate and improve your own mind by religious books ; do it, however, as a matter of duty and necessity, from the hopes of heaven, and the fears of hell : and, depend upon it, (experto crede,) time will make it delightful. It is necessary that the soul should be transformed into the image of Christ, befora we die ; and it must be adorned with meekness, humility, viiul purity, love of God, and love of our nei^-h- 1 2 [ 116 3 bour ^ else we shall be shut out from the joys of heaven at the day of judgment, and confined to all the horrors and miseries of hell. What words, then, can express the madness of those persons, who, having an easy and cer- tain method proposed to them by prayer, and fasting, and meditation, of obtaining heaven, and escaping hell, do, notwithstanding, refuse to comply with it. And yet this is the case of the generality of irreligious persons, in this land of light and liberty, where there are so many opportunities^ calls, and advantages. Let me add one thing more, viz. that there can be no excuse for not reading religious books. This is absolutely in our power; and, therefore, the neglect of it is an unpardonable offence in the eye of God, who knows all our thoughts, de- vices, and designs, and consequently knows, that if we do not come to the light, it is for fear that our evil passions and habits should be con- demned thereby. The religious books which I would recom- mend are, first, the scriptures, and then the practical writings of those persons known to have led holy and religious lives. If you con- verse with such persons in their writings, you will, by the blessing of Gob, acquire the good dispositions and tempers for which they were eminent, and obtain *^ that peace which passeth [ 117 ] *' all understanding." Their descriptions of the virtues and vices will put you upon your guard in the various circumstances and events of life ; and teach you what to do, and what to avoid, in particulars ; for I have no doubt of your sincere desire to please and serve God in general. But you, like all other young persons of eager tem- per, are carried on to act, or tempted to neglect, without duly considering the nature of the action, or omission ; and a repeated action, or omission, comes, after some time, to be a habit. Now, if you have your memory well stored with that vari- ety of short, evident precepts, which occur m prac- tical books, virtue will get the start of vice upon sudden occasions of life, at least it will not be far behind it ; and may^ I hope, by the sincerity of your heart, and the good principles of your edu- cation, and, above all, by the gracious assistance of God's holy spirit, become completely victo* lious in the event; at first, indeed, with some pain and ^difficulty, but afterwards with ii>exr? pressible joy and satisfaction. I would recom- mend to you the writers of our own Church ; at least Protestant ones, in preference to those of th^ Romish Church. Our own writers being educated in a country, where both civil and ecclesiastical liberty are enjoyed in great per- fection, have a greater freedom of thinking and speaking than any others 3 and their piety is, Qf [ 118 3 consequence, more clear from all tincture of superstition or enthusiasm. But all churches- abound with^r«fC^?*caZ writers, of inestimable value; and it is the greatest happiness of the present times, sua si bona norint, to have in every library, and in every shop, numberless books, which can *^ make us wise unto salvation/' Spend one^ two, three hours, evenj day^ in this kind of read - ing", joined with meditation and prayer ; and depend upon it, you will never j:epent it, in life or death, here or hereafter. If you be " wise *' unto salvation/' you will be wise in your pro-, fession, and in all temporal affairs; you will be diligent, upright, obliging, and polite; you will gain the love and esteem of all with whom you have intercourse, and receive the hundred-fold in this life, which Christ has promised to his true followers, *^ Seek ye the kingdom of God, ^' and his righteousness, and all things shall be *^ added unto you/* The same reasons which enforce the constant reading of cjood books, hold in respect of the company of serious and devout persons. Every man must, and w ill be, like the company he keeps ; and as it is the most favourable sign of bappiness and success in this life, for young persons to associate with, and delight in, those who are older and wiser than themselves; so bad Cpmpapy is a sure mark, as wdi as means, of [ 119 ] misery and ruin. It is infectious in the greatest degree, by secret as well as by open ways ; and all attempts, which a man seems to himself to make, to preserve his innocence, are vain and delusive. Remember what Sydenham says, " that he ** Tvasahiays the worse for his acquaintance with " had men, though they did him no direct injury. ^^ In like manner, avoid all books, which have either direct or indirect tendency to corrupt your mind, or to make you love, or not fear, your three great enemies, — tlie world, the flesh, and the Devil, I might proceed to the several duties of life but rather choose to forbear, and confine myself to this earnest recommendation of the duties of prayer and religious reading. If you comply with my precepts concerning reading, you will be furnished with all the rules and motives to a holy life, in a much better manner than it is in my power to give them ; and if you pray with faith and earnestness^ " God will work in you ** both to will and to do." If, on the other hand, you neglect prayer and religious reading, you will perish miserably, here and hereafter. If you halt between the two, your life will be che- quered by hopes and fears, by joys and sorrows as mine has been, and as that of the generality of the world is, till you come to die, either peni- tent, through the goodness of God, in sending t 120 ] you afflictions, and blessing them to you ; or impenitent, through the hardness and stupidity of your heart. It pleases God to give me greater peace and hope, than I have ever yet enjoyed ; and I am resolved, by his grace, to serve Him with an upright heart, for the short re- mainder of my days. My great concern is, that I may meet your mother, yourself, your brother, and your sister, in that state where there shall b@ no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor pain; and I trust in GoD, that He will grant me this great blessing. But I have a true and tender concern for your temporal welfare also; and though I restrained my discourse to spiritual things alone, yet I shall never cease to promote your happiness in this world, by my prayers and piost earnest endeavours ; being, my dear child^ Your's, most ajffectionately, D. HARTLEY. C 121 1 HERMAN ANDREW PISTORIUS, H. A. PisTORius, to whom the following letter is addressed, ranked high, in the North of Europe, as a scholar and divine. He was rector of Posnitz, in the island of Auger; and, in the year 1772, published, in German, a great part of Hartley's Observations on Man, with notes on, and additions, to the same. This was printed at Rostock and Leipsic, translated into English, and prefixed to the third octavo volume of the third edition of Dr. Hartley's work, printed in London 1801. M. Pistorius's observations evince great acuteness of mind; considerable powers of reasoning ; a profound knowledge of metaphysics ; a singular liberality of sen- timent ; and expansiveness of benevolence. In his preface^ he has given us the following sketch of his design, in the work he had undertaken. '^ I found, *' that, of the two volumes of Dr. Hartley's work in " English, (the first of which contains a complete phy- " siological and psychological system,) the second only '^ was properly fit for my purpose: this contains na- " tural religion ; a demonstration of Christianity, its *' moral doctrines; a short exhibition of the doctrinesof /' faith ; and finally, a treatise on the expectations of ** man. I therefore contented myself with giving a *' short, though superficial, abstract of the first volume, ** which contains the association of ideas; but the •■' second I have thought it necessary to divide into two, ?' and amplify it with my own observations," [ 122 ] LETTER XXXII. To Herman Andrew Pjstorius. SIR, Mayy 1770. A Desire to comply with your request, and -^^ to illustrate my friend Dr. Hartley's reasoning-, as far as I am able, has emboldened me to undertake a task, I am but too sensible I am imequal to. However, I will do the best I can, with cheerfulness; and if I shall be so lucky as to shew his method of reasoning in a clear light to you, I shall think myself very happy. If I shall not succed, the time you will spend in reading this, and I in writing it, will be thrown away, innocently at least. Dr. Hartley supposeth, then, that children, at their first entrance into life, are susceptible of mere bodily, or, as he calls them, ^ew^f^/e pleasures and pains only; and that they are aifected with these by the impression or action of external objects on their nervous system : that these impressions leave their respective ti*aces or ideass behind them; which original impressions, or their ideas, by being frequently connected and associated, as they grow up, with various other impressions, productive of neither pleasure nor pain, generate in us, by degrees, pleasures and [ 123 ] pains of a higher rank, such as those of the imagination, ambition, &c. All this operation he supposes to be performed t)y the simple mechanical laws of motion ; by the means of vibrations in the component particles of the whole nervous system; and this opinion Sir Isaac New ton seems to embrace. But whe- ther true or not, or by what other means this operation maybe performed, is not at all material to the consequences he draws from it. The law of association may universally take place, by what method soever it may please the Supreme Being" to bring" it about. From this doctrine of association, thus laid down, he proceeds to shew^, that all our pleasures and pains, all our affections and passions, all out opinions, our assent and dissent to truths of all sorts, arise in our minds ; that this alone is suffix cient to account for all the phenomena of the human understanding. In short, upon this foun- dation he builds no less a structure than the whole frame of the human mind; which is formed and made w^hat it is, in each individual, by the previous accidental associations which have been connected together in his passage through life to the present moment. He shews us, that we really are, and by what particular steps we come to be, in^ fact, what the common language of the world, perhaps inconsiderately, calls us, viz, th<5 [ 124 ] children of prejudice, education, habit, custom, &c. ; and that the mind of man, various as it seems to be in various particulars, is ultimately resolvable into perhaps a few impressions of external objects on our senses, variously com- bined and connected together. This method of reasoning", thus pursued, makes us mere machines. He allows it. ** Then," say the advocates for free-will, " we are no longer ** free agents,'* consequently can do no action, either of virtue or vice ; consequently can have no merit or demerit; and so go on to draw many other consequences relating to God's goodness, justice, &c, which, they say, necessarily and naturally flow from these premises* Here, as I apprehend, lies the greatest difficulty. But to all this the Doctor (Hartley) thus answers, as I undertand him. If, says he, by free-will, is meant a povi^er to do, or to omit doing, any action whatsoever within our compass, according to the determination of our will, (which definition most men would allow,) I then allow free-will in the most perfect manner that defi- nition can admit of. But if by free-will is meant a power within ourselves, uncaused by any previous motive, or present impression, by which we can form, constitute, or create this determination of our own will ; 1 then abso^ lutely deny there is ^ny such thing residing m [ 125 ] Its, according to this definition; and this, ftake it, is what he means by popular and philosophical free-will. He says, every man must feel in himself that he has no such power over the de- termination of his will. That the will is brought into that state of activity, such as to be called the wiilmg" of any action, by motives and impression^, previous to such determination. That, if this is not the case, our free-will must be inconsistent with God's prescience ; that, in fact, we should be gods ourselves, having a power within our- selves of becoming a first efficient cause ; whereas, God is, and must be, the only first cause of all things. That, in the commoa instances produced of proving we have such a free-will, the most trifling are always brought, where the motive is not of consequence enough to be regarded or attended to ; whereas, in matters of moment, we always see, and readily allow, the motives which induce us to do, or not to do, such actions ; and is it reasonable to suppose, w^e have such a free- will as is contended for, in the most trifling af- fairs of life, and not in those of more importance? That, in the common intercourse of mankind, all men, whatever their language be, act as if men had not such free-will. What would avail the giving good education to youth ? What per- suasion or argument to the aged, if they were possessed of this W'himsical free-will, and were t 126 ] not reg'ularly acted upon by motives. Why should I trust myself alone with you, Sir, and not with a cartouche ? but that 1 know you have neither of you free-will ; that the consideration of honour, right, and religion, will assuredly be motives strong enough to prevent you from injuring* me ; ' aiid those of interest, malice, or fear, will, as assuredly, be motives sufficient to prompt the other to rob, or perhaps murder, me. The de- nying of free-will in man is, by many, supposed to involve us in the great difficulties of making Gob the author of evil ; the allowing it, Dr. H. says, does not remove it. The origin of evil equally remains a difficulty, (perhaps never to be cleared up by us,) whether man has, or has not, this free-will. That evil, both moral and natural, is in the world, is a truth not to be contested. And that the Author of us, of na- ture, of the universe, should not be the author of that, and of every thing else, in whatever light we consider things, is as great a diffi- culty as any thing we can propose. There is no difference in this respect, whether a Being, infinitely benevolent to will what is best for his creatures; infinitely wise, to know what is best; and infinitely powerful, to be able to effect whal; is best; creates a being, subject to the impressions of external objects, which impressions will con- duct him to evil, and which, from his make, he [ 127 ] must follow ; or whether a created being, endued with free-will, which, as God, he must foreknow would lead him to the same evil. There is this to be said in favour of the mechanical scheme, that, if we are really machines, anxiety, pain, and all the uneasinesses of body and mind at- tendant upon evil actions, must, by our aversion to pain, force us at last to such a course of actions, as are likely to produce ease, pleasure* and peace of mind, if our stay here were long- enough ; and who knows how long our proba« tionary state may be! A creature endued with free-will may, perhaps, never be reclaimed, but pushed forward continually towards his own misery ; whereas, the mechanist, merely from his mechanical make, is precluded from thus ruining himself for ever. Which is most worthy a good, wise, and powerful God ? Which is the preferable state for us his creatures ? If you thus reject free-will, it may be asked, what will beconie-ef virtue and vice, merit and demerit ? To which the Doctor thus answers. If in the definition of your complex idea of virtue, merit, and words of such import, you include the idea of free-will as one of the component parts, an ingredient, sine qua non ; you may justly say, without free-will, there can be no virtue ; but then it becomes a mere identical proposition. But, if you define virtue to be a word denoting i 128 ] every action tending* towards the happiness and "Well-being of the oreatioo, or any part of it ; and merit, a. word denoting such an intention in the actor, without examining how he came by such an intention, or why he performs such an action; and vice and demerit the contrary, (which is no improper definition, no harsh way of straining language ;) then the mechanist may properly be said to be vicious, or virtuous ; to have merit or demerit, to any degree, as the free agent. As for rewards and punishments, the true way of considering them seems to be this. Pleasure and happiness are the constant attendants on, or rewards of, virtue; if not absolutely so in this life, at least in our whole progress through eter- nity; pain and misery, or natural evil, are the constant attendants on, or punishments of, vice or moral evil, with this remarkable difference, that the first, by giving us what our natures are desirous of, strengthen and corroborate us in the pursuit of virtue; and the last, by bringing to ns what our natures are averse to, tend constantly to annihilate vice, and so force us, even against ourselves, by the mere make of our minds, into the road of happiness, where we shall all ulti- mately arrive. For to consider punishments from God as a revenge for evils committed, is surely to have an unworthy idea of Him ; I might almost call it blaspliemy. Whereas, if C 129 ] wwe considei^ them only as corrections leading" us %o happiness, we entertain a much more adequate idea of his unlimited benevolence. And this is really the case in the magistrates and powers of this world. Having thus given a sort of history of the frame of man, and removed, as he supposes, the grand objection, with all its consequences; he proceeds, in the second place, to examine, from his frame, what is the duty of man ; a being, desirous of happiness, and averse to pain. The obtaining happiness, and avoiding misery, is, and ought to be, the chief pursuit of mankind here. The impressions made on our senses, by external objects, are the inlets to our future happiness, and knowledge, by the various as- sociations with which they are connected in our earliest youth ; but as these affect the sensible pleasures only, and we are, and ought to be, constantly rising from lower degrees of pleasure to higher ; and as the pains attendant on the following mere sensual pleasures will drive us from them, to seek some others less chequered with miseries; the Doctor shews, that these ought to be our primary pursuit ; and that the mind of the most gross sensualist may rest contented with these only ; so he goes on to shew, that the pleasuresof imagination, or ambition, cannot be our sicmmiim bonum : and concludes, that the K [ iso ] pleasures of benevolence, the moral sense and piety, or Thespathy, (as he calls this class of pleasures,) may, and ought to be, the end man- kind should propose to themselves, if truly w^ise, from the frame of their mind : nay, that the frame of their minds is such, as to drive them necessarily into this mode of thinking at last. If mankind were seriously convinced of this truth, it would be one great additional motive, or weight, added to the machine, to accelerate the motion to the point desired. But, says he, we have another way to judge of our duty, if we believe the scriptures. He then enquires what right these books have to be thought to reveal the will of the Creator ; and sums up, in a short and clear way, the general evidences of their genuineness, truth, and inspi- ration. And having fully convinced his reader, as he supposes, that he ought to believe in them, and to trust to them as containing the will of God ; he shews that they lead us to the same end, and enjoin us the same rule of life, which Ihe considerations, from the make of our minds, had before pointed out to us, but in a far more j conspicuous and exalted manner. j This finishes the second part ; and in the j third and last, he shews what ought to be our \ expectations, by our complying, or not comply- 1 ing, with this rule of our duty, so laid down. | [ 131 ] If we pursue a course of benevolent, just, and pious actions, the Doctor proves, from the make of our minds, we shall enjoy all the content, peace of mind, happiness, and pleasure, our natures are capable of; and all this is promised us, here and hereafter, by the revealed will of God in the scriptures. But, if we should take another turn, M what will be the case then ? In that case, says ■ the Doctor, let us remember that pain and ' misery are the concomitants of vice ; and the aversion to these will, at last, by the force of our f i mechanical make, quite overcome this proneness J ■ in us to evil ; and we shall, by degrees, be spiri- ' i tualized, and rendered worthy partakers of the 1 happiness designed for his creatures by the Lord ilj of the universe. If, by many unhappy wrong • associations, some shall be rendered so obsti- ', I tiate as to endure many and grievous afflictions, 1, i before they are prevailed upon to turn their backs 1 iipnn evil, hard is the case of such ; but so it is, I if they break a leg, or live a long life of pain, i occasioned, perhaps, by the vices of their an- 1 cestors : But this happens every day, without its 1 being ever considered in the same light ; and I'that we should be shocked at supposing, that I mankind should suffer pain for the actions of BTl others, which, it must be allowed, are at least as nmch out of their power, can be owing to no- thing but prejudice, or, in other language^ to / 9 [ 132 ] prior associations* But will you say, then, that the most wicked shall at last be happy ? Most certainly, replies the Doctor, but not till they have returned from their wickedness : and, indeedj this is the corner-stone that supports the whole fabric. For there might be some plea of justice in arraigning the ways of the Ai^mighty, if mankind should for ever suffer for action^ which they are compelled to at the time; and which, if this doctrine be true, they would do again and again a thousand times, all other pre- vious circumstances remaining exactly the same. In defence of this opinion, the Doctor says, if is inconsistent with infinite justice to punish finite crimes infinitely and eternally : it is in- consistent with infinite benevolence, power, and knowledge, to create poor groveling beings as we are, compared to Him, to undergo eternal torments : and if you can prove that any one man can be saved, from that one it will be easy to prove, that every individual shall. For in- stance, let us suppose the best man that ever lived 10 be represented by A, and the worst by Z; and all the intermediate letters of the alphabet to denote all the intermediate degrees of virtuous and vicious men. Then will the Doctor say, B*. is so near in degree to A, and C to B, and so on, that you can never stop, till you go through the whole of mankind. For divide where yotJ [ 133 3 will, as, for example, at M, or N, the degrees of virtue in M, and vice in N, can never be so great, as for the Ai^mighty, to make M eternally happy, and N miserable eternally. And to close all, the Doctor attempts to prove, that this is the language of scripture from end to end : that it is full of most glorious promises and pro- phecies ; that it threatens, indeed, and threatens greatl}' ; but this is our comfort,— we shall suffer no more than we can bear, no more than is ne- cessary to make us happy, completely happy : if a little will suffice, we shall have but little ; if much is wanting, God will give us what is wanting to make us completely happy, and not a jot more. He brings a great number of texts and types, to shew, that the restoration of all mankind is plainly promised us in the scriptures, but that much pains is necessary to bring this about ; and adds this observation, that man, as well as God, is bound to perform his promises ; but that neither justice, nor mercy, require either of them to perform their threats. The last, in- deed, one may sa}^, forbids it; and this is God's great characteristic, by which He has made Himself known, viz. that he is a merciful God. Now let us review this scheme, and see whe- ther man has reason to complain that he is made not a free, but a necessary agent. God, the author of nature, has formed an universe full of [ J34 ] harmonVj full of beauty. To contemplate and enjoy this, he has created man, a being capable of receiving pleasure, and suffering pain, from the impressions of external objects all around him. The nature of pain and pleasure is such as to make him eagerly desire and pursue the one, loath and avoid the other. He has so framed the mind of man, that from the pleasures and pains received from these impressions, he should be led on to seek such things as he has expe- rienced to give him former pleasure. These, being daily united with other impressions, aug- ment his sources of pleasures, and he is impelled to search for new ones. If, by unhappy unions, he finds himself mistaken, and, instead of plea- sure, he experiences pain ; this, by repeated trials, will turn him aside; and he will, from the nature and frame of his mind, be led to such actions as, he finds, will not disappoint him. Happiness is the lot designed by God for all his creatures. As far as one man's happiness coincides with the happiness of the whole, so far will pleasure fol- low his steps; when they obstruct it, pain will obstruct him from destroying the happiness of others, and in the end, consequently, his own. So, if this be the true history of man, it is not in the power of one of God's creatures essentially to obstruct the happiness of any one of the work of Jhis hands, not even his own. Ought we to repine f 133 ] at this ? Is it not a great and glorious scheme, worthy the benevolent Author of nature ! Well may we say, how great and wonderfully are we made ! I have jiow, Sir, to the best of my abilities, and as far as I understand the Doctor's book, given you the design and drift of his plan, and his manner of reasoning, as I conceive and re- member it ; for I have purposely avoided having recourse to the work, whilst I was writing this, I thought I understood him, and j^lainly per- ceived the connection of his chain of reasoning; therefore I chose to set down my thoughts as the work itself, and his frequent conversations on these subjects, suggested them to me at different times; imagining I might express my own thoughts in a more explicit and free manner, than if I wrote it directly from the book itself. I have undoubtedly omitted many of his arguments, perhaps some of the most cogent ; and 'tis not impossible, that I may have intro- duced some that are not his, but such as my conception of the thing supplied me with. This I know for certain, that all the light I have in this matter, I have received from him. I am sure I cannot have done him justice in any re- spect ; but in friendship to a man I have such a regard for, I beg leave to mention one difficulty be is under, which is in regard to his language. [ 136 ] From his scheme, it appears, he must necessarily make use of some abstract words, such as virtue, merit, reward, &c. &c. in a sense of his own : this may make him sometimes obscure ; but what could he do ? He must either use such languac^e as the world does, or coin new ; and he chose the first, as liable to less objection, upon the whole. If I have given you any satisfaction, I shall think my time well spent ; for I am, with a true re^ gard, Sir, Your most obedient, humble servant. [ 137 ] LETTER XXXIII. ^romjDr. Franklin ^o David Hartley, Esq, MY DEAR FRIEND, Oct, 26, 1778. IT Received yours, without date, containing an -■-old Scotch sonnet, full of natural sentiment, and beautiful simplicity. I cannot make an entire application of it to present circumstances ; but|taking it in parts, and changing persons, some of it is extremely apropos, First, Jennie may be supposed Old England ; and Jamie, America, Jennie laments the loss of Jamie, and recollects with pain his love for her ; his industry in busi- ness to promote her wealth and welfare, and her own ingratitude. Young Jamie lov'd me weel. And sought me for his bride. But saving ane crown. He had naithing beside. To make the crown a pound, my Jamie ganged to sea^ And the crown and t|ie pound were all for me. Her grief for this separation is expressed very pathetically. The ship was a wrecl^. Why did na Jennie die i^ O why was I spar'd To cry, w^e is me ! [ 138 ] There is no doubt that honest Jamie had still so much love for her as to pity her in his heart, though he might, at the same time, be not a little angry with her. Towards the conclusion, we must change the perons ; and let Jamie be Old England ; Jennie, America. Then honest Jennie, having made a treaty of marriage with Gray, expresses her firm resolution of fidelity, in a manner that does honour to her good sense, and her virtue. I may not think of Jamie, for that would be a sin. But I maun do my best, A gude wife to be j For auld Robin Gray Is very kind to me. You ask my sentiments of a truce for five or iseven years, in which no mention should be made of that stumbling-block to England, the inde*- pendence of America. I must tell you, fairly and frankly, that there can be no treaty of peace with us, in w^hich France is not included. But I think a treaty might be made between the three powers, in which England expressly renouncing the de- pendence of America seems no more necessary, than her renouncing the title of King of France, which has always been claimed for her kings. Yet, perhaps, it would be better for England to act nobly and generously on the occasion, by [ 139 ] granting" more than she could, at present, be compelled to grant : — make America easy on the score of old claims; cede all that remains in North-America; and thus conciliate and strengthen a young power, which she wishes to have a future and serviceable friend. I do not think England would be a loser by such cession. She may hold her remaining possessions there, but not without a vast expense ; and they w^ould be the occasion of constant jealousies, frequent quarrels, and renewed wars. The United States, continually growing stronger, will naturally have them at last; and, by the generous conduct above hinted at, all the intermediate loss of blood and treasure might be spared ; and solid, lasting peace promoted. This seems to me good counsel, but I know it can't be followed. The friend you mention must always bs wel- come to me, with or without the cheeses ; but I do not see how his coming hither could be of any use at present, unless, in the quality of a plenipotentiary, to treat of a sincere peace be- tween all parties. Your Commissioners are acting very indis- creetly in America. They first spoke disrespect- fully of our good ally. They have since called in question the power of Congress to treat with them ; and have endeavoured to begin a dispute about the detention of Burgoyne's troops, an affair which I conceived not to be within their commission. They are vainly trying", by pub- lications, to excite the people ag-ainst the Con- gress. Governor J — has been attempting to bribe the -members ; and, without the least regard to truth, has asserted three propositions, which, he says, he will undertake to prove. The two first of them 1 know to be false, and I believe thei third to be so. The Congress have refused to treat with the Commissioners, while he continues one of them, and he has therefore resigned. These gentlemen do not appear well qualified for their. business. I think they wiii never heal tthe breach, but they may wirfen it. I am, my very dear friend, Tour's most affectionately. [ 141 ] THE REV. WILLIAM GILPIN. Few English writers of the eighteenth century have gratified the public with such a variety of interesting publications as the late Rev. Willtam Gilpin ; and of fewer still can it be said, what may be truly asserted of him, that he adorned every subject on which he wrote. In the various departments of biography, divi- nity, didactic composition^ scriptural criticism, and the principles of the picturesque, he has displayed the power of the master; the piety of the Christian; and the sensibility of the man of taste. As an amateur artist in drawing, he was original in composition, and spirited in execution; and, like Longinus, exemplified, in his own productions, those admirable principles which he laid down for the perfection of the ait on which he wrote. The first publication of Mr. Gilpin, which en- gaged public attention, was — Biographical Sketches ot his great ancestor Bernard Gilpin, and other reformers. These were followed, at difterent times, by admirable Lectures on the Church Catechism 5 an Exposition of the New Testament, w^ith notes highly useful, and-, in many instances, singularly ingenious and original ; Ob- servations relative chiefly to Picturesque Beauty, in several tow^ns through England and Scotland ; Sermons lo a Country Congregation, in 2 vols.; Moral Contrasts; Amusements for Clergymen ; Forest Scenery, in a pic- turesque Account of the New Forest; and a beautiful Series of Dialogues, published as a posthumous work. [ 142 ] But however sp^^ndid as a writer, Mr. Gilpin*s chief clahn to the admiration of his cotemporaries, and the imitation of posterity, arose from the excellencies of his professional^ and the virtues of his private, character. After having obtained a moderate competency, by fulfilling, for many years, most conscientiously, the important duties of the master of Cheam School; and being further assisted in his income by the small vicarage of Boldre, Hants, presented to him by his accomplished scholar, Col. Mitford ; he retired into the country, and settled himself on his living for life. Here it was that Mr. Gilpin's character appeared in the most venerable and attractive point of view. To the inhabitants of a wide and wild parish on the borders of the New Forest, most of whom were in the humble ranks of life, he was at once the instructor, and the example ; the pastor, the friend, and the father. Reproving the vicious with authority, but mildness ; encouraging the worthy with a judicious generosity ; instructing the ignorant with the most patient condescension ; visiting and relieving the sick ; comforting the unhappy ; and affording advice and assistance to ail who stood in need of them. Lively in his conversation ; cheerful in his manners; and with a countenance beaming benevolence and peace, he ^ evinced, that the most ardent piety was compatible with innocent gaiety, and that true religion is ever the parent of joy and tranquillity. Moderate, rational, and liberal, in his theological principles, he lost no friend by petulant dogmatism, and made no enemies by imchristian intolerance. Piety, in whomsoever it appeared, commanded his respect; it was only presump- tuous vice that excited his indignation'. He, lived till the age of 80, beloved and reverenced by those who knew him best; admired and esteemed by those to whom he was only known by his character and writings; [ 143 } and closed his upright, useful, and exemplary life on the 5th April, 1804. He was buried in Boldre church-yard, where the following memorial of him, written b}'^ himself, is in- scribed, on a stone that marks the place of his grave : " In a quiet mansion, beneath this stone, secured *' from the afflictions^ and still more dangerous en- "joyments, of life, lie the remains of William '^ Gilpin, some time vicar of this parish; together " with the remains of Margaret his wife. After ** living above fifty years in happy union, they hope ** to be raised, in God's due time, (through the atone- ** ment of a blessed Redeemer for their repented " transgressions,) to a state of joyful immortality. Here ** it will be a new joy, to see several of their good neigh- " hours, who now lie scattered in these sacred precincts *' around thein. " He died April 5th, 1804, at the age of 80. She '•' died July 14tb, 1807, at the age of 32.'* LETTER XXXIV. From the Rev, William Gilpin to 3Irs, M. Hartley. Vicar's Hill, Jan, 31, 1791. DEAR MADAM, ^T'OUR speedy and friendly answer merits -^ my thanks; especially as you wrote at a time when your heart was full, and not in unison with any little pleasantries, which might, pro- bably, have been the subject of my letter. t 144 ] I was not acquainted with the friend you have lost; yet I knew more of her, than I do of most people of whom I know so little. I have often heard of her, from a Curate of mine, a very ingenious young man, who went from me to be a tutor in her family. That family will, I fear, have a great loss of their good mother. I do not know, my ddar Madam, that I ever opposed your favourite opinion. I think it by far the most probable, that we shall all meet to- gether hereafter ; though whether we shall form out' friendships hereafter, exactly as we form them here, is, I think, a matter of some doubt. Here we love one another, and often contract, our friendships, for the sake of elegant manners, natural affections, pleasing humours, good sense, knowledge, and a variety of other endowments and acquirements. Hereafter, I apprehend^ these things will appear to little advantage, where accounts are to be settled by different degrees of Christian perfection. Now, it may happen, that in those accom- plishments, (if I may so speak,) of humility, charity, a forgiving temper, and the like, which alone pass current hereafter, we may be above, or below, our late earthly friends; and will, therefore, be no more suited to form friendships "with them, than an ignorant peasant is with a philpsopher. But how^ever these things may be C 145 1 €)i*derecl hereafter, we may all make ourselves very easy in the reflection, that all will be ordered in such a way, as most undoubtedly to promote our best happiness. I am extremely glad, you like my Exposition of the New Testament ; and I had rather have your approbation, than that of half the learned critics in the kingdom. I remember, I affronted you once, by telling you I wrote foi* such readers as you, though 1 meant it as a very sincere com- pliment ; and in continuation of that compliments^ I most earnestly beg of you, that, when you look it over again, you will do it with a pen in your hand. I value your criticisms very much ; for I look upon them as the criticisms of a sound, well-informed understanding, but devoid of those prejudices, which critics by profession are too apt to adopt. What you say of the last verse of the fourth chapter of Revelations, I perfectly agree with; and in my copy I have altered the passage, as it is in the original. " For thy ^'pleasure tliey are, and were created, ^^ But in one point I rather differ from you. You wish I had left the sacred writers more in possession of their bold figurative expressions ; and had been more full in my explanations. With regard to the first, as I have just been telling a very i^ensible man, (unknown, though, to me,) who wrote to me on that subject out of Warwick- I. C 146 ] shire, I cannot see how the harmony of cohi- position would have allowed me to do otherwise. You are still in possession of these bold figurative expressions : I admire them with you, but I do X; not pretend to vie with them. If I modernize one part, and not another, I fear I should pro- duce rather a disagreeable mode of composition. These bold flights, which are of a piece with the original scriptures, would agree ill, I fear, with the coldness of modern language. As to your exceptions to my conciseness, I hope they will vanish, if you will read attentively my titler page, which sets forth, that I mean chiefly to con- vey, as far as I can, the leading sense, and connec- tion. What you were pleased with in the preface to the Acts of the Apostles, I do not know that I met with amy where. When I beg the use of your critical pen, you will understand, I meaa only the pen of your leisure : when you do mak^ remarks, either with regard to the connection, or the sense, all I beg is, that you would put thqm on paper. As my design in attending to the leadincf sense chiefly does not seem to be gene- Tally taken up, I shall, in another edition, say something more on the subject. Mrs. G. joins in best respects with, deat Madam, your very sincere W. GILPIN. t 147 ] LETTER XXXV. FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. iHv Vicar's Hill, Aug, (5, 1793. IH I Wish, dear Madam, it were in my power to administer any comfort to feelings like yours. I hope, however, as one of your brothers is in a recovered state, you will have the satis- faction soon to find the other so to. But as God, often for his owu reasons, takes the wis© and the good out of the world, before the com- mon course of nature would probably remove them, if we could only persuade ourselves that God Almighty knows better than we do what is right, we should possess the true secret of bearing affliction. One should thitik there were no great difficulty in bringing ourselves to ji this conclusion; nor is there in theory; but ' practice, wayward practice, makes the obstacle: and yet, perhaps, the philosophy of the Gospel does not require so strict an obedience to that great truth. A greater philosopher than any of the Stoic school allows more indulgence, I think, to liunian feelinos. We must consider his ex- ample as precept : and we are assured, that he not only had strong affections; butitisrecord^> that, on the death of a friend, ^^ Jestjs tvept^^,- [ 148 3 1 hope, however, dt^r Madam, when I hear from you next, (and you will give me, at least, a few lines soon,) I shall find that you have had Occasion, at this time, neither for the Stoicism of Christianity, nor its more indulgent allowances^ About politics I shall say nothing, because your ideas are precisely mine : so that it would only be transcribing a page from your own book. 1 will only say, that the French clergy at Win- chester (where the King's house is fitted up for several hundreds of them) behave in the most regular, prudent, and frugal manner. I say this, because I remember giving you an account, in my last, of the improper behaviour of the French emigrants at Southampton, - Relieve me, dear Madam, Your truly, sincere, and most obedient servant, WILLIAM GILPIN. letteh XXXVI. From the Rev. William Gilpin to 31rs, M. Hartley. BEAR MADAM, Vicars Hill, 1794. I Never did receive your letter of September 3d. I have all your late letters now , lying before me, and I have none of that date; [ 149 J nor do I remember receiving" any letter from Cirencester, but your last. You and 1 think "perfectly alike about Me- thodists. We object onl}' to the bad tendency of s,ome of their opinions; but leave them willingly in possession of their flights of enthusiasm. It appears to me, that by the merciful providence of God, the g-ospel has two great modes of access to the human heart; both, perhaps, conducive to the same good end. The one is thr-pugh the channel of the imagination j the other, through that of reason. The former is more adapted to the ignorant and unenlightened part of mankind, who cannot reason, nor see the force of evidence. The Methodists all seem inclined to this mode of iiddress : they apply to the imagination, and endeavour to inspire enthusiastic fervours, which may be very conducive, I don't doubt, to incite piety and devotion ; but, if 72J>e grant that this mode of application may be of use to the igno- rant and uninformed, the sectary, on Jiis part, should grant, that it is not adapted to general use. To convince the learned infidel, you must not open upon him with the absolute necessity of faith, till you have convinced him of the foundation of that faith ; nor tell him affecting stories of the sufferings of Christ, till he is satisfied of the reality of those sufferings. Again where w^orldly prejudices, and refined modes of [ 150 ] immorality, have mixed themselves with Christ-, ian doctrines, some learninor- is necessarv to dis- entangle all the maze of error ; and if the enthusiastic preacher call this worldly wisdom, I shall be apt to call him uncandid. You must not expect me, dear madam, to wish you " a merry Chriatmas,'^ I never use that old, jovial wish of our ancestors : it sounds riotous in my ears. Nor shall I wish yon " the compli-^ ^' meiits of the season/' which is only the same thing' in the dress of modern refinement. But if you will be content with my wishing you, in plain English, every happiness that is consistent with this world, and may be hoped for in th^ ixexi', I wish it with great cordiality. Tour's sincerely, WILLIAM GILPIN. LETTER XXXVri. From the Rev, William Gilpin to Mrs, M. Hartley. Vicars Hill, Sept. 15, 1795. INDEED, my dear Madam, you need make no apology for ''* troubling me with so ** much family history." You could not enter- tain me more. There is no kind ct reading I take more plea^u'e in, than the lives and ane^c- i 151 ] dotes of good people : and though I was not acquainted with the particulars of your father's life, as I had never seen the second edition of his work, yet I knew enough of him, to conceive him to have been a most respectable character. I think 1 told you in what high respect hi» writings were held by one of my intimate friends> wlio was amongst the acutest reasoners, and the best men, I ever knew. I wish you w^ould give me a catalogue of every thing your father wrote, and the date of their first publication. I do not think he wrote much, besides his chief work ; but I should be glad to hear from you. My acquaintance with a worthy clergyman, Mr, Green, of Harding-ham, in Norfolk, was the oc- casion of my troubling you, at this time, with my wff enquiries about your father. I dare say 1 have mentioned this gentleman to you in some of my letters, I was never personally acquainted with him: but when I first printed my Exposition of the New Testament, he wrote me a very friendly letter, informing me, that ever since he Tiad seen the Epistle to Philemon modernized, in the Christian Hero, by Sir Richard Steele, he had wished to see the whole Testament ex- pounded in something of the same familiar manner, and that mine had entirely met his approbation. And then, to evince his sincerity,* he mentioned to me two or three passages, which [ 152 ] he thouglit mi^ht be improved. As F received these corrections candidly, and wished for further remarks, he read the book critically ; and, from time to time, gave me several other remarks, almost all of which I adopted. This critical correspondence, on scriptural subjects of different kinds, continued till his death, which happened at the end of the last year. After his death, his executors, or one of his friends, made me a pre- sent of his works, which were out of print ; and, at my desire, gave me a few particulars of his life, with which I w as totally unacquainted. His works consist of translations, from the original Hebrew, (for he was esteemed among our be^t Hebrew scholars,) of the Psalms,, and other poetical parts of scripture; and I cannot but think, he gave the first hjiit lo the Bishop of London, Dr. Blaney, and the present Primate of Ireland, who followed, with translations of different parts of the Bible, in the manner of Mr. Greep. Mr, Green's Psalms were published sixteen years before Bishop Lowth published his Jsaiah, which was the first of these biblical works I have mentioned. With regard to the partis culars of his life, which were sent me, I find he had contracted an early acquaintance mih Dr. Hartley, and that the Doctor's particular regard for him continued all his life, at Bath, and pther places, where the Doctor resided ; but fram [ 153 ] their mutual employments they seldom met. ,1 conceived, at first, it must have been some other Dr. Hartleys but you have convinced me it could be only your father. I suppose you do not remember his ever meeting with Mr. Green at Bath, or elsewhere ? or hearing- your fathe*^ &;peak of him ? I have made an acquaintance lately with a gentleman, with whom, I believe, you are ac- quainted, Sir G. B. My brother brought him here, and they staid with me the best part of a week. Sir G. is a very pleasing man ; and, I think, deeper in the science of painting than almost any man I know. I am not acquainted with the school you mention, but I hear it well spoken of. A young beir in my parish, Mr. — , is just sent to it. Tour's, very sincerely, W. G. LETTER XXXVIII. To the Rev. William Gilpin, /?0Me Mrs, M. Hartley. DEAR stR, Feb, 18. I am much pleased to find that you took my letter kindly, and that you say it gave [ 154 ] ycJU pleasure ; t\'hich I wished it should, though I was almost afraid to write, lest I should occasion your suffering any fatigue in answering me. Now that I write again, I must begin with telling you, that I only wish you to read my letter, and to give it a friendly smile. I know well, that, in illness, it is often too great an exertion to attempt any more. You say truly, that none of us can act up to our sentiments. Imperfect creatures as we are, and in a world of imperfections, it cannot be otherwise. But we have a kind Master, or rather a tender Father, who will look with a lenient eye on the failings of those who honestly endeavour to do well. It is not my business to compliment you, that is not the office of a friend; but I can have no doubt, that your own heart gives you comfort and support. I am not surprized, that, at the time when you had, as you say, " a near prospect of eternity, '* you should think of nothing else." I was once in the same situation myself; but when life returns, the thoughts of the mind must, unavoid- ably, return to the visible objects of the world in which we live; and if they did not, we could not go on to accomplish those duties which yet remain. I rejoice sincerely, '^ that it has pleased ♦* God to put you again into a state of exist- I 15.3 ] *' ence;'' and that yon are ^^ able again to laiigft, *' and joke, and talk, about Lord Nelson, &c.; " in short, that yon are become an inhabitant of '^ this world, as you was before/' This is a very comfortable hearing to your friends ; and 1 dare say, there is no reason to fear, that your worldly ideas will not be completely *' kept ** within proper bounds." Those which relate to the improvement of mankind, are ideas which relate to both worlds ; and, I am sure, you must feel great comfort in thinking, that your parish, and your school, may one day, by your assistance, obtain everlasting happiness. I do not remember that you ever before sent me " The short Explanation, ^c. for the Boldi^e ** School f but I am much pleased to receive it; and I think it most judiciously adapted to the purpose. I am pleased to see every practical duty clearly explained, while every abstruse and contested point is cautiously avoided. The little references that you make to natural history, and the growth of plants, the formation of animals, the influence of the sun, &c. and your Explana^ lion of the Omnipresence of Gob, are certainly useful, in teaching the children to think, and yet are exemplified in so simple a way, that they cannot mislead. Yet I never read a book of question and answer in my life, where it did not appear to me, that such questions were asked. [ 156 ] '^'hich it wag convenient to answer; and that' perhaps, an acute and intelligent child might happen to ask a few more, which might happen, also, to embarrass the instructor. The account of your Poor-Jiouse you had sent me before. I had been much pleased with the management of it, and the characters of the managers, Mr. and Mrs. S. Our worthy friend Mrs. — is here. We often meet, and we often talk of you, and your family. She knew your father and mother well; and says, that your mother was a very amiable and valuable woman, and (as you say) a woman of real sentiment ; that your father was a manof excellent temper, and of the most gentleman-like character and manners that she ever knew. I read to her those charming letters you have been so good to com- municate to me. With that of your mother, she was as much pleased as I am ; but with that of your father, upon her death, she was affected, even to tears. Miss B. w^is here with her last night ; and after having talked a great deal about you, I ventured to read those two letters again before her ; for I knew she had taste enough to be worthy of them, and she ivas worthy. I then read her the long history of Scaleby Castle which you gave me in August 1787 ; and after that, as the conclusion of the feast, your his- tory of the present desolated state of that ruin! [ 157 ] She was extremely delighted with that ver^r picturesque account of the vaulted hall, now inhabited at each end by aM'retched family, &c. This description always delighted me; it is such perfect painting,that every image appears before the eye. Miss B. enjoyed it so much, that I read it to her twice : but she took notice that your little note (that you was born and bred there) must be as unintelligible to every reader, as it was to me. No one could conceive, that you w^ere the son of either of those two wretched families ; therefore the imagination must form to itself some w^onderful and romantic event, which must have compelled your mother to take shelter, in such a situation, at the house where you was born. But still the imagination must go farther on, to supply more invention for the cause of your being bred up there ; and I do not see how that could be managed, unless we sup- pose your mother to have been still confined there by some wicked fairy, or some cruel giai;it, like a princess in a iairy tale. Mr. — and Miss — say, that, when the next edition corned out, you ought to insert, as a note, that very letter in which you have given the history of your own family. I don't know whether I should advise your doing this yourself; but I shall pre- serve the letter; and some time or other, when you and I are both dead and gone, it may, perhapf. t 158 ] get into a biographical history of you, written by Boswell the Second. Your's, dear Sir, very truly, M. TT. LETTEK XXXYHI. To the Rev. William Gilpin, /rom Mrs, M. Hartley. BEAU SIR, Belvedere, 1799. A Communication through the atmos- phere, without the medium of pen and paper, would, indeed, be a delightful privilege. Had such a communication beea in my power, I should have conveyed my thoughts to you as soon as I became acquainted with yours ; but such powers are not allowed to mortal beings. It seems not unlikely that beatified spirits will have some mode of communication, far more facile than we have any idea of. It is true, that we are informed of no particulars concerning our future state ; but we are, in general, assured, that to those who shall be accepted, no happiness shall be wanting ; and as we know that our dispositions are to be improved into perfect love and harmony, in society with innumerable multi» C 159 ] tudes of " just men made perfect ;" I see no harm in amusing ourselves with ideas of such blessed communic?itionSj as you allude to. All benevolent ideas improve the mind; and while we are thinking of social happiness in heaven, we shall probably be more disposed to promote it upon earth. Your sermons, and the establish- ment of your school, are parts of such a plan ; and I hope you will see, in Heaven, those w^houi you have endeavoured to conduct thither; though I cannot help wishing, that your dismission may be still deferred, as long as this life can be made easy and comfortable to you. - I have been looking back at your old letters, when we first discussed the subject of re-union with friends in a future state ; and I must ingenuously confess, that I have done injury to your senti- ments, in saying, that you seem to think there is no foundation for the hope of seeing and know^- ing our friends again m a future state. On tha contrary, I see, that in those letters you speak of it as highly probable, '* that ne shall unites f* hereajter with those with whom our souls have ** been connected here :" but then you thiak that I lay more stress upon this enjoyment than it deserves. You tell me, that *' we are directed to *' look up, not to the virtues of the creature, but ** to the perfections of the Creator." You say, that, *' if we hope to be admitted to the divine [ 160 ] " presence," from whence we are taOg-ht that all our joys are to spring, we cannot iconceive that the greatest part of our happiness, or, indeed, «W7/ material part of it, shall arise from conversing* with creatures, whose brightest virtues are only dim emanations. What our admission to the divine presence may be, I cannot conceive ; neither do I imagine that you (though much wiser than I amj can clearly explain ta me; but though I must believe, that our knowledge of God's perfections, in a future state, will be far greater than it can be here, and our love and gratitude far more intense; yet, as the distance between the great Creator and his creatures is infinite, I should imagine, that, in heaven, as well as upon earth, (though more perfectly there) we shall know Him in great measure by his works : while we look up to Him, as the Author of all ^ with veneration and adoration, as well as love and gratitude, our intimate and familiar com- munications will be with those emanations of virtue, which have received their source from Him. You say, in another letter, that the continuation of our earthly attachments is not amonof those future considerations which the scripture holds out ; and tliis I must^acknowledge tp be true; for the scripture gives no particular description of those joys, whicli '* eye hath not ** seen, noi: eai: heard, neither hath it entered [ 161 3 " into the heart of man to conceive." Yet we are told, that we are to be associated with " the ** spirits of just men made perfect;" that " we ** are not to grieve for our departed friends, as '* those would do who have no hope." This certainly conveys an idea, that we shall meet them again : but I agree with you entirely, that, in many cases, it is proba^)le, the attachments of this world, and those of the next, may not co- incide. You say very truly, that ^^ our attach- *' ments here are often formed without sufficient *' knowledge; that we know not our own heart, " much less the hearts of others ; and that we have '* frequently too much reason to repent the hasty ^' friendships we have contracted." These hasty friendships, and all friendships that are not built lipon virtue, will certainly be dissolved. Taste, genius, congenial manners, habits, and associa- tions, and even union in the pursuit of knowledge, in a world where all the knowledge that can be acquired here shall vanish away, where the phi- losopher and the peasant shall be upon a level, 'will not be a sufficient foundation for the friend- ships of eternity. But gratitude surely will! 'And though you tell me, that T may possibly ^contract a friendship with an Ethiopian, or an Asiatic, of whom I know nothing in this world, 1 think it more natural to conceive, that the first affections of my mind will turn towards those M [ 162 ] from whom I have received the most serious and the most virtuous obligations here ; towards those, whose advice and example directed my youth ; and towards those, who, in the course of my life, have confirmed every principle of virtue in my mind, from the bright pre-eminence of theirs. In any instance where I have loved without judgment, and have not found real virtue, though I thought I had, I cannot expect that my mis- taken friendship will be revived, till the objects of it become as sincere and worthy as I had thought them. According to — * idea, this time wiW finally come to every one ; and the whole creation will be, in some future day, a family of love and union. In the progress to this state, though our souls may be far above one another in perfection, no one will look down upon ano- ther, but those who are the farthest advanced Avill lend their most strenuous endeavours to bring forwards those who are striving to come up with them. There will be no jealousy, na envy, no wish for pre-eminence, in heaven. All will love God with their utmost powers, and all will love their fellow-creatures as themselves, enjoying happiness in unison with others, and not wishing for peculiar favour, even from God, to themselves individually. The heavenly civility which you speak of, must be universal, unlimited benevolence. It * Dr. Hartley. [ 163 ] is certainly very probable, that particular at- tachments may be formed in heaven, as upon earth, by particular circumstances; and none seem to me more probable, than the remembrances of those virtuous obligations which are past. 1 do not quite like an idea, that I have some* where seen, '^ that one spirit may visit another, " as a lord does a commoner, or, it may be, as a *' commoner does a lord, *' Bowing low, *' As to superior spirits is wont in heav'n." Although this is a line from the divine Milton, I think it is not one of his sublime thoughts. The conception of angelic beings, their minds, and their manners, are subjects of too high a flight for even a mind like his; and he does not excel so much in his descriptions of the Divine. Being, and of angels, and archangels, as of men and demons. Dear Sir, your's sincerely, M. H. LETTER XXXIX. From Mrs, M. Hartley to the Rev. William Gilpin. BEAR SIR, June 18, 1800. I Received your kind and cheerful letter with great satisfaction. I hope '\% denotes r 164 ] bodily ease, as well as peace of mind. Undoubt- edly I do think ^^ cheerfulness a good attendant " on illness ;*' and I am glad that you agree with me. I think it is a mark of resignation^ and confidence in God, though there are time» in the varying states of bodily infirmities, when the mind is not capable of enjoying it. What you say of your different sensations, has put me into a train of reflections. Without any gloomi- ness of mind, I can perceive, both from reason and revelation, that this world is a state of trial ; and, as my favourite author Butler expresses it, a state of moral discipline, and of education, to fit us for a more perfect state. But I hope, that those precepts which you quote, *' touch *' not, taste not, handle not,'' relate only to things that are wrong. For when we consider the goodness of our bountiful Creator, and the beau- tiful objects with which he has (as you say) replenished the world; who^ that is not mo- rose or melancholy, can conceive that it is a duty to shut our eyes to beautiful objects, or our ears to harmonious sounds ? These, surely, are natural pleasures, and suitable enjoy mental for innocent minds, not only harmless, but bene- ficial, when they interfere with no moral duty. If they do; if the fine prospect^ or the concert, employ time or money which is due to any use- ful or charitable purpose ; they should certainly [ 165 ] 1>e relinquished; as any other favourite pursuit should be, when it interferes with duty. This I conceive to be the reason, why you have never indulged your genius to its full extent, but have thought it better to be a vigilant pastor, than a great painter. The elegant arts may have lost by this preference, but the virtues have gained ; and when you shall hereafter see your well- instructed flock surrounding you in bliss, how will you rejoice, that you have given so much of your time and thoughts to them ! The histories we have of the lives of Christ, and his Apostles, do certainly give us no account of their enjoying even the most natural and in- nocent pleasures. Nothing is recorded of them, but the good they did, and the persecutions they endured. I often think how greatly their lives were different from ours. Theirs were past in labours and suffering, ours in peace and tran- quillity ; but I hope it may please God to con- duct some to perfection *' by prosperity, as ''others by adversity.'* Both are trials; and the different state of the world produces dif- ferent kinds of trials. In their day, Christianity was persecuted; now it is estabhshed, at least in externals. Whenever the perfect and interior adoption of its benevolent precepts shall come; when all men shall do good, and not evil ; to teach others the virtues of patience, forbearance, [ 166 ] and forgiveness of injuries, will have no place. But shall we be then less virtuous, because we are more happy? Such a state, indeed, is not yet arrived, but I trust in the providence of God ! that it is arriving*, though by slow degrees; and that the day will come, in which all vice, and all misery, will be taken away. We know, at least, that it will be so in heaven ; and your " id^a, that ^^ we may possibly be there presented " with scenes of transcendent beauty, to which ** the scenery of this world may bear some faint <* resemblance," is like a thought which formerly occurred to Milton, when he made the Angel Raphael say to Adam, " What if earth " Be but the shadow of heav'n, and things therein, " Each to other like, more than on earth is thought ?" Such ideas are pleasing to our imaginations^ as they are now formed ; but I do not feel curious on the subject : It suffices me to know, that God intends our happiness; and to believe, that, at the end^ all his creatures will be grateful to Him, and kind to each other. The manner I am well content to leave to his providence. Farewell, dear Sir ; I wish to you, and Mrs, Gilpin, a pleasant and happy summer; and I am your obliged and affectionate friend, M. H. [ 167 ] LETTER XL. From the Rev. Mr. Gilpin to ****. DEAR SIR, Vicar's Hill, 1794. ACCORDING to your desire, I have looked over your work with a critic's eye ; and I have taken great liberties with your stile, which I do, upon the principle of performing a trust. You may adopt, or not, as you please. A good stile,* in my opinion, consists in the fewest and easiest words, arranged in the simplest and most natural order, and running as smoothly as the ear will admit. On these principles I have used my correcting pen ; all quaint phrases, and em- barrassed sentences, should be avoided. You • There arc a sort of writers, who presume, like the Pharisees of old, that they shall be heard for their much speaking. They puzzle and dim that argument, with many words, which might be made clear and convincing in a few. These are tiresome, and do the mind little service. Ever when you write, or speak, (unless you intend to mislead,) give your argument simply, with clearness and shortness. Use no more words than are necessary to give it, and to enforce it j thus your single sheet shall be remembered, and made use of, when volumes of similies and metaphors are forgot. f 168 ] will find an example of what I mean by an embarrassed sentence, in the middle of the 46th page; where you must read two or three lines, before you can guess what is to come. With regard to the work itself, I think it a very entertaining one ; but still I think many thing:s might be added. You say little of drink. The history of bread might be useful and enter- taining. You might tell us how the poor lived ; and, with regard to the conclusion, I think you are nauch too short : you might introduce a little more morality ; you might draw equal instruc- tion from the necessities of mankind, and from their luxuries; you might shew, that the stomach of a man is able to convert into aliment a greater variety of things, than the stomach of 2^ny other animal ; which shews, (what the naturalist proves, from his being better able to bear the extremes of heat and cold,) that he is fitted by nature to bea^; every climate. Indeed his reason assists him, by the art of cookery, to alter and adapt his food. It is a melancholy consideration, that while half mankind are pining in want, the other half are consuming the blessings of heaven in intemperance. These and other similar obser- vations occur. You make much use of the word viands ; I have always erased it. People take dislikes to words. I conceive viands to be rather [ 169 ] a poetical word ; at least it is not so plain and good a word, I think, as food. I am, my dear Sir, Your faithful obedient servant, WILLIA^I GILPIN, LETTER XLI. From the Rev, William Gilpin ^o ****. DEAR sir, Vicar s Hill, April 1795. I Received, yesterday, the book you were so obliging to order for nie; and I return you my best thanks, both for it, and the honour I see you have done me. When I see a beautiful prospect, I commonly take a general view of the whole together, before I examine particulars. Such a view I have already taken of your book; and I find, though I am no antiquary, a great variety of amusing matter for me to speculate •upon, at more leisure. I used to tell you, formerly, I did not think , your stile quite simple enough. As far as I have , yet read, I think your work is written with more ease; and yet I met with a few sentiments, which, perhaps, might have been otherwise expressed. In the first paragraph, for instance, instead of [ 170 ] the imagery you employ, the sentence would, I think, have run more easily, if you had barely said ************ When you write, keep always in your mind what a great critic says of him, qui nil molitur inepte. I hope you will consider this freedom as a compliment: I mean it as such, I assure you, to your candour. I suppose you have seen Wyndham's Account of the Isle of Wight, but I dare say you keep clear of him. I have by me some strictures on the Isle of Wight ^ but I keep clear of you all, for mine are chiefly picturesque. Sir John D*Oyley shewed me some old (ioins, which, I think, he said you gave him. You know I admire these things only as an artist, and I thought those coins among the most beau- tiful of any I had ever seen. We make no such dies now, as some of the first Caesars. My wife and sister beg their best compliments to your family; with those of, dear Sir, your sincere and most obedient servant, WILLIAM GILPIN. [ 171 ] LETTER XLIL From the Rev. Wm. Gilpin to ****. BEAR SIR, Vicar's Hill, March 22, 1797. I Received your parcel yesterday ; and have an opportunity to-day, by Miss — , of returning' you my best thanks for it. I have already read the greatest part of your book, and have been much more entertained with it, than a picturesque man commonly is vs^ith a piece of antiquity. He seeks after what is curious and beautiful, the antiquary after what is curious and antique. I was particularly pleased w^ith your Army-Smiths. The idea was quite new to me. The church I was ordained to, was within a few yards of the Roman wall, which I have crossed over and over, without ever think- ing of Severus, or taking* up a single fragment. I dare say, you would have thought a living of a hundred a year there, better than a living of double] the value in any other place. But I think you maybe contented. I had no concep- tion that you were in such a field of antiquity as you are at Bath. A young man at Lymington, of the' name of ****, has lately set up a printing-press. He [ 172 j seems to me a very deserving young fellow. I have set his press a going, by giving him a ser- mon to print. If I meet v^'ith an opportunity, I will send you a specimen of our v^^orkmanship. We beg to be remembered kindly to all your family, as well as to Mr. **** • and believe me, dear Sir, your sincere aud obedient servant, WILLIAM GILPIN. LETTER XLIII. From the Rev. William Gilpin to ****. BEAR SIR, Vicar's Hill, Oct, 19, ISOI. I Heard only yesterday morning of your marriage, by Mr. — , who called upon me. I should otherwise have done earlier what 1 now do, congratulate you on the occasion. From his account of your lady, I hope you have a prospect of great happiness before you ; and I know little of you, if you do not make her a very kind, attentive husband ; so I hope there is every reason to expect a happy marriage. You are beginning life; Mrs. G. and £ are ending it; but, through the blessing of God! with much more comfort than we could expect at our years. Since my late illness, I have never been perfectly well. It has [ 173 ] left a cong*h, and shortness of breath, I am obliged to see more company than I wish: but I have a kind friend, who manages things dexterously for me. I commonly sit in my bow-windowed parlom* below stairs, and all company is carried into the drawing-room above; and such company as I wish to see, or want to see me, she sends down to me. Once more, my dear Sir, I join with my family in congratulating you, and paying our kind respects to all under your roof. Your very sincere And faithful humble servant, WILLIAM GILPIN. LETTER XLIV. JFfom the Rev. William Gilpin to ****. Vicar's Hill^ July 7, 1802. I Received yesterday, my dear Sir, your agreeable communication. But as I see, from your letter, that you have communicated an event to me, in which, like a young father* you think half Europe is concerned, I know not [ 174 ] how to address yon. If, however, you will be CQntent with a plain congratulation, you shall have it cordially from me, at the head of my family; in which, also, my son and daughter unire. We desire you will carry our congra- tulations a step farther, to Mrs. *^**, to whom we desire to be kindly remembered. Believe me, dear Sir, Your sincere and most obedient servant, WILLIAM GILPIN. C 175 1 JOSEPH AMEEN, THE ARMENIAN PRINCE. Joseph Ameen was first noticed in England during the war which terminated in 1763. It has been said, that the first Duke, then Ear], of Northumberland, ob- served him carrying a heavy burthen into his mansion in the Strand; and being struck with his appearance, made some enquiries, which led to the discovery of his rank, and present situation; that, interested by this history of the Prince's sufferings, his Lordship imme- diately afforded him his countenance and support. It will be found, however, that this account is not strictly accurate. The late B. Wilson, esq; the artist, was intimately acquainted with Ameen, and had painted three pictures of him; one for Lord Lyttleton, one for the Duke of Northumberland, and a third for Ameen himself: and the following are the particulars which Mr.Wilson used to relate of this extraordinary charafter. All the circumstances of the hardships he underwent, which Ameen mentions in his letters, were, literally, facts ; and to these he might have added many others, equally severe, which Mr. W. knew he had endured. So very low was he at one time reduced, as to be compelled to Wack shoes, for a scanty subsistence, at St. James's Gate^ where he was treated by the populace with con- tempt and abuse. During this state of degradation, he was accustomed to frequent the Royal Exchange, in the hope of seing some one from his own country who knew hira, or to whom he might be able to raajke himself [ 176 ] known. As he was orie day wandering through the Piaz- zas, bitterly lamenting his repeated disappointments, he observed aTurk, of whom he had some knowledge, bar- gaining with a person (who proved to be steward to the Earl of Northumberland) for the sale of a set of Arabian horses; and soon understood, from what passed between thisMussulman,and another of his countrymen, to whom he spoke in the Turkish language, that a gross imposi- tion was intended to be practised upon the Englishman. Ameen's principle of integrity revolted at this vil- lainy; and, determined to expose it, he accosted the steward, and, without hesitation, informed him of the discovery he had made. The steward being much struck, both with the man, his information, and the man- ner in which it was given, enquired into the particulars of the history of a person, to whom he felt under consi- derable obligation, Ameen related his " unvarnished *' tale," and succeeded so well in interesting his auditor in his favour, that the steward took an early opportunity of communicating what had happened, and what he had heard, to the Earl ; who immediately sent for Ameen, held a long conference with him, became convinced of the truth of his story, relieved his embarrassments, and finally honoured him with his patronage, and an intro- duction to the Duke of Cumberland, and other cha- racters of dignity and influence. Mr. Wilson used to describe Ameen as a man of strong enthusiasm of character, high spirits, and invincible bravery. En- gaging, as a volunteer, in some of our descents upon the coast of France, in the war of 1763, he was the first man who fired the enemy's shipping at St. Maloes, where he fought with the fury of a bull-dog. His mind seemed to be absorbed by the military passion, and the idea of emancipating his country from the tyranny of the Tuiks, to be his principal obje6t. This [ 177 ] darling hope he cherished through all his sufferings; and to this end all his exertions, all his wishes, pointed, as is strongly marked in the following Letters to tha Earl of Northumberland, Prince Heraclius, and his father. From Prince Heraclius he never received any answer; but having obtained the means of getting into Armenia, he joined Heraclius, who gave him a com- mand in his army, where he evinced abundant proofs of military skill and courage. Mr. Wilson related, that Ameen's countenance was strongly characterized by the violent and ferocious pas- sions; which were evidenced, alsoj in his manner. He was one day sent for to Northumberland House, when the Duke of Cumberland, Archbishop Seeker, and se- veral other distinguished personages, were at dinner there. After having detailed all the circumstances of his eventful life to the company, and answered a variety of questions that were put to him, he suddenly exclaimed, to the Duke of Northumberland, in such an impassioned manner as electrified all present, ** My Lord ! I know "you will prote6l me ; I know you will take care of " me !" Being, upon another occasion,with the celebrated liord Lyttleton, who patronized him, Ameen explained to his Lordship the hopes he entertained of freeing his 'native land. Lord Lyttleton represented to him, at "large, the hardihood and difficulty of the attempt, and 'concluded his speech by asking him, what he could say to the obstacles which presented themselves to his scheme? Ameen's countenance suddenly inflamed, his features became furious, and he shortly exclaimed, " By — , I'll overcome them." . .;4«. , He used frequently to visit Mr. Wilson, who was Ve?y kind to him, and had long enjoyed his affecti'on artdeon- • fidence. Calling one day on this gentleman, h^/shewed Ameen the prints of Alexander's battle, after Le Brun, N L 1^8 ] Anieen had read the history of the Macedonian's con- quests, and when he beheld these representations of them, a degree of fury animated his countenance and gestures, which Wilson declared no description could reach. On another occasion, he brought with him to Mr. Wilson's a man in a Turkish habit, a fine, tall, athletic and warlike figure. '' Behold this man,'* said he to Mr. W. " he was once one of my slaves. I *' commanded a khord of Arabs ; and this man, and *' some hundreds more, fought bravely under me. Is it " not true ?" * Yes, answered the other, with emphasis. " And if I go again, will you once more follow me ?'' * With my heart and soul,* said the stranger. " And " will your countrymen follow me?" * Can you doubt * it f was the Arab's only, but emphatic, reply. Ameen was in England more than once; for on being enabled to return to his native country with some credit, he attempted to reach Hamadan by the way of Arabia; but after encountering a variety of dangers and adven- tures, suffering many distresses, and penerating a consi- derable way into the mountains, he was at length stopped by an impassable snow, and returned to England. He did not, however, then meet with the same credit which be had before obtained ; his story was not believed ; and many of his former friends began to suspect that he was an impostor. This stung him to the heart; he burned with rage and vexation ; and determined not to rest, till he had vindicated his honour and veracity. It was during this painful interval, that he brought the Arab to Mr. Wilson, as above-mentioned. Having at length recovered the confidence of bis patrons, he ob- tained an audience of Lord Chatham, (then Mr. Pitt,) find made proposals to him, from Prince Heraclius, in behait' of Armenia: but the difficulty of the enterprize, Q,^d the uncertainty of any result beneficial to this [ 179 J fcountry,' |)revented Government from espowsing his Cause. At another time, Ameen served in the British armj in Germany ; was known to, arid continually near, the commander in chief, who Called him " his lion's ** heart/' At the battle of Minden, he afforded ample proofs that this appellation had not been undeservedly bestowed. He served also, for a short time, under the King of Prussia, but left his army in disgust; highly incensed both with the Monarch, and Sir Joseph York; with the latter, because he bad not given him a letter to the King of Prussia; and with the King, because he would not suffer him to be near his person. He after- wards went to Russia, where he experienced much kindness, both from the Empress, and the English ambassador there ; and from thence found means to teach his native country, and join, once more, Prince Heraclius in Georgia. He corresponded, for some time after his return to Armenia, with the late Lord Lyttleton ; and in his las* letter informed his Lordship, that he had at length re- luctantly relinquished the idea of exciting a military spirit among his countrymen ; that they were devoted to a jnercantile life, and must continue to-live and die— ^slaves. Ameen possessed little of ** the milk of human " kindness;" but he had all the virtues of a partizan; and, had his energies been aided by the zeal of his own countrymen, and the assistance of other govern- Inents, he would, probably, have transmitted a name to posterity, as deservedly celebrated for patriotism and military success, as any of the heroes, either in ancient W modern tirae^. n2 [ 180 ] LETTER XLV. From Joseph Ameen to the Earl of Northumberland* MY LORD, 17—. T Present you with the specimen of my writing, -■- that I promised : it is too bold, I am afraid, to make myself the subject, when I write for your Lordship ; but forgive, my good Lord, the language of a stranger. I have been in too low condition, to know how to write proper to your Lordship; but you speak to me more kind and humble than mean people, so I am encouraged. I have very good designs, and I have suffered much hardships for them. I think your Lord- ship will not despise a person in mean condition, for thinking of something more than livelihood. I have, with a very good will, thrown behind me a very easy livelihood for this condition, mean as it is > and I am not troubled, if I can carry my point at last. As long as I can remember my own family, (and I remember my grandfather,) they have always been soldiers, and always did remember Christ. Though they were torn out of their country by Shah Abbas, and planted in Hama- H [ 181 1 ikn, they were'soldiers still. Two of my uncles did spill their blood in the service of Kouli Khan; my father was his slave for many years, but he was at last forced to fly into India, be- cause this tyrant had sharpened his battle-axe more upon his own army, than upon his ene- mies. Soon after, my father sent for me to Calcutta, where he is a merchant. There I s^w the fort of the Europeans ; and the soldiers exercise, and the shipping", and that they were dexterous and perfect in all things. Then I g-rieved with myself for my religion, and my country, that we were in slavery and ignorance 5 like Jews, vagabonds upon earth ; and I spoke to my father upon all this, because our fathers did not fight for their country : but I understood that the black Armenians, in the mountains, were free, and handled arms from their childhood; and that those under the patriarchs, who are subject to the Turks and Persians, did not want couraage ; but they are all ignorant, and fight only with wild natural fierceness, and so they have no order, and do nothing but like robbers. And 1 resolved I would go to Europe, to learn the art military, and other sciences to assist that art : and I was sure, that if I could go into Armenia like an European officer, I might be useful, at least, in some degree, to my country. But my father did not listen to me ; [ 18« 1 for God did not give hiiri understanding in these things. I could not bear to live like a beast, eating and drinking without liberty or knowledge. I went to Capt. Fox, of the ship Walpole, and kissed his feet a hundred times, to let me work for my passage to Europe, before he would bend to me ; but he did at last admit me, and I came to England with much labour ; but it did not grieve me, when I thought of my country. I entered, with my little money, into Mr, . Middleton's academy. I had the honour to tell your Lordship so before, I was first a scholar, and when my money was gone, I was then a servant there for my bread ; for I could not bear to go like a dog, wagging a tail at people's doors for a bit of bread. I will not grieve your Lord- ship with the miseries I went through; I do not icant to he pitied. J got service at last with Mr. Robarts, a grocer, in the city. For this time I carried burdens of near 2Q0lhs, upon my back, and paid out of my wages to learn geor metry^ and to complete my writing, and just to begin a little French : but because, my Lord, | almost starved myself to pay for this, and carried burdens more than my strength, I hurt myselfj^ and could not work any longer; so that I was in despair, and did not care what did become of me. A friend -put me to write with an ati | J [ 183 3 torney in Cheapside, which for a little time got me bread : but 1 was resolved, in despair, to go again to India, because nobody would put out his hand to help me to learn ; and my uncle sent £60 to Governor Davis, to carry me back. I am afraid I am too troublesome in my ac-* count to your Lordship ; but we people of Asia cannot say little, and a great deal, like scholars. Now I met, by chance, some gentleman who encouraged me, and gave me books to read, and advised me to kiss Capt. Dingly's hands, and shew my business to him. He was a brave soldier ; took me by the hand ; spoke to his Ser- jeant, an honest man, to teach me the manual exercise j and gave me Toland's Military Dis- cipline, and promised to help me to learn gun- nery and fortification. But I was again unfor- tunate; for when light just began to come to my eyes, he died, and I was like as before, except that I knew a little of manual exercise, and had read some of the Roman history. I could learn no more, nor live; I was broke to pieces, and bowed my neck to Governor Davis, to go over to my friends, without doing any of those things I suffered for. I am in this net at present, but am happier than all mankind, if I can meet any great man that can prevail on Governor Davis to allow me som.ething out of the money he has (only on [ 184 ] condition I return, that I return to blindness again;) that I may go through evolutions with recruits, and learn gunnery and fortification ; and if there is war, to go one year as a volunteer. If Governor Davis w^rites that I have a great man here my protector, my father, who looks upon me as a person run away, and forsaken, will make me an allowance to learn. If I could clear my own eyes, and serve my country and my religion, that is trod under foot of Mussulmans, I would go through all slavery and danger with a glad heajpt; but if I must return, after four years slavery and misery, to the same ignorance, with- out doing any good, it would break my heart. My Lord, in the end, I beg pardon. I have experienced of your Lordship's goodness, else 1 would not say so much. I would not receive, but return. And I want nothing, but a little speaking from the authority of India Governor to my friends. I have always been honest. Those I have been a slave to will say I am honest. Mr. Gray trusted me. Here is a sort of story, nothing but your Lord- ship's goodness can make tolerable to you. I am much obliged to your Lordship's patience ; and shall be very proud of giving your Lordship all the proof in my power, that I am your Lord- ship's very much obedient and humble servant, JOSEPH AMEEN, [ 185 3 LETTER XLVI. From Joseph Ameen ^o Prince Heraclius. To the most shining, most Christian King, Hera^ cliiiSf of Georgia and Armenia, these. MY KING, 1755. ALL thing's that have been from the beginning" of the world to this day, are by the will of God. According" to the scriptures, ** all ^* things were made by Him, and without Him " was not any thing made that was made." God created the heavens and the earth, the sea and the land; and it is he that made you king over two nations, Armenia and Georgia. Glory be to God, the Fatherof our Lord Jesus Christ, that made you defender and protector of these Christian nations, and of their faith; which have been for many hundred years under the hands of your Majesty's family. The same God will, I hope, deliver those Christians who are under the hands of Ottomans. For there is no difficulty in - the mighty hands of God; and whoever trusts in Him, shall not be alarmed. It was He that delivered Israel by the hand of the prophet Moses, out of the hands of Pharaoh, and fed them with manna, according to the holy Psalms, which [ 186 3 saith, " man did eat the bread of Angels." May the same God preserve and strengthen the wrist of your Majesty, to defend us from the encroach- ments of barbarians. Amen. Having heard the fame of your Majesty's brave conquest, by which you have possessed the two kingdoms of Georgia and Armenia^ and that at present they are under your Majesty's pro- tection; being desirous, from the readiness of my soul, to offer yourMajesty my services, which I beg you will make no difficulty to accept ; as money is far from the desire of your Majesty's servant, who wishes nothing but to serve him who has the rule over his nation; for while I am here, I want nothing. I have a great friend here ; and that friend is my protector ; and that protector is the son of the King of England. If it please your Majesty to instruct me in your •will and pleasure, that I may petition to this great Prince, in order to obtain leave to come and serve you as an European officer, according to my low abilities; and that I may teach your soldiers to fight like Europeans, who are well known to your Majesty, that with a few men they overcome many. Your Majesty has heard of the German nation, who, with no more than 20,000, are able to give battle to hundred thou- sands Mahomedans or Turks, and enemies to the Christian nations. I would also acquaint your [ 187 ] Majesty how it is, and by what means the Eu- ropean nations are such conquerors, and so brave warriors. First, a man is obliged to enter himself in the house of exercise, which they call here an aca-? demy, to learn, or to study, four or five year*?, the art of war ; that is to say, the art of building strong castles, the like of which are not to be found in all Asia ; and also the art of managing great guns in such manner, as none of our for- tifications could stand before them for three days. Likewise, the manner of encamping, with judg- ment; and the way of ranging the soldiers, so that they are like a wall of iron, not to be broken: and after having thoroughly completed his study- in that art, he leaves the place, goes and offers himself and his service to his prince or king ; thereby becomes an officer, or fighter for his King and country, and by long experience per- fects himself in that peat art. For the art of war here is not to be undertaken easily. It contains many things difficult to be known by Turks or Persians, and very much preferable to the mere strength of arm. See, King, it is not by the strength of arm that these nations are called conquerors, but by w isdom and art. Here every thing is by art, and by wisdom ; for with- out wisdom the land is not land, and the nations that dwell therein are blind and unhappy. Ac- [ (88 ] cording to the Old Testament, which saith, ** God made the heavens, and the earth," by his infinite wisdom, therefore Goi> loveth wisdom. For this reason, I say,whoeverfolloweth wisdom, he is dear to, and beloved of God ! For, from wisdom proceeds all manner of goodness : also, a man is not righteous without wisdom, nor wisa without righteousness. The ancient Romans, who were so great, gave laws, and subdued all nations of the world: this was by art and wisdom, before our Saviour, al- though they were idolaters. But they were virtuous, and lived in good morals. Another example. Peter the Great, of Russia, who used not to be so great a warrior, and his country, could never have been so blessed, and flourished, had he not come over here to learn wisdom ; who, when he was in Holland, served in a place of ship-building like one of the labourers, and humbled himself therein. *' Whosoever hum- *' bleth himself, shall be exalted,'* &c.: and when he returned into his own country, he was full of all manner of wisdom, by which he made himself father, as well as lord and king, over his country. These are things which made the people of Europe to be conquerors, and to be esteemed more wise than all thi nations upon the face of the earth. For among them are learned men? who study the way in which GoD has made [ 189 ] all things according' to their nature; by which they are able to do things of great wonder and usefulness. They send, likewise, into every part of the world, at a great expense, for to learn all things that are produced upon or under the earth, by which they are increased in wisdom and riches; their riches are very great; their people are very happy, not being afraid of fame or danger ; and they are under excellent laws, by which no man is suffered to do wrong to another, though he be weak and poor. But this nation, this great and mighty na- tion, O my King, where I live, are not only a great and wise nation, but also destroyers of the devourers of mankind; 1 am surprised to see, that even the sheep in this country rest in quiet- ness, without fear of the wolves. May the great God grant your Majesty's subjects to follow their example, and to grow wise and conquerors, under the wisdom and cou- rage of your Majesty ; to whom God grant long life to tread your enemies, like dust, under your feet. May it please your Majesty to know who your servant is, that raises his head to speak to you, 4ind takes pains to know these things, with much labour, for your Majesty's service, to whom God give victory. i ISO ] l^he liame of your servant is Ameeii, the son of Joseph, the son of Michael, the son of George, who is descended from Ameen, who, in the day that Armenia was broke under the battle-axe of Shah Abbas, \^as Minbaschy in his country; but he was made captive, with others, and was car- ried into Persia, and planted at Hamadan. From him your Majesty's servant is come^ and he is called of his name, being born at Ha- madan. But our captivity was grievous ; and the Persians, who, since their Mahomedanism^ (which is so well known to your Majesty,) are grown quite barbarous, not being so civilized as they were in ancient timesy according to the histories I have read in this blessed island ; so that my father fled from Hamadan, in the time of Shah Thcemas, and Kouli Khan, into India, to a place called Calcutta, where the English have fort and soldiers, and a great trade^ though their country is seven months voyage from Ben^ gal. There my father made himself merchant to this dav : and would have made me such as himself, but I did not submit to him. For I enquired of my fathers, from my infancy, the reason why we were persecuted by infidels, and why we did reside so contemptibly among law- less nations. But they made me no answer, and my heart was grieved, and I had none to comfort me in tny grief; for I said, " the ants th^ creep [191 ] *** upon the earth have a king, and we hare not ;^* and the nations of all countries make their song; upon us, also persecuting* us, and saying to us, that " you are masterless ; you have no king" of ** your own ; you resemble the Jews scattered " upon the face of the earth ; you have no love ** for one another, you are without honour, and, " by the disunity of your nation, all the nations ** insult you. You are contemptible, and without ** zeal; and you are as great lovers of money, as ** the heathens were of their gods/' I could not bear all these reflections, so I grieved, and found none to heal me. I observed watchfully the Europeans,their wise customs, and their shipping, far better, both for sailing and for war, than the ships of the Indians ; and above all, the practice pf their soldiers, who, if there were thousands of men, by one word of command from their officers, instantly altogether move and act, as if they were one man. Then I thought in my mind, that it was God that had put in my heart to think on all these things ; therefore I spoke not to my father, but had hopes in my heart, that if I went to England, I should learn the art of war ; and I was encouraged; for then I heard a little (and not much) of your Majesty's name, until I canie here ; where 1 learned that your Majesty was established in your kingdom, and had routed a gre^t army of Persians. See, my King, what [ 192 ] a great thing the wisdom is, by which this nation know our country better than we do ; and that this nation is awakened, and we are asleep. On board the ship I worked like a sailor ; and after- wards, w^hen I came here, I was so reduced, that I was forced, by hunger, to offer myself to sale upon the Bazaar, to be sent into the New World. O, my King" ! do not pity me! Not even at the time that you hear of, or see, me sacrificed in your service ; but pity those servants of Christ who deserve pity. But the omnipotent hand of God saved me by an Englishman; and the same God, who heard the crying of my heart, did put it into the heart of a generous Nobleman, who is one of the pillars of the throne of England, to assist me. He made me explain the counsel of my heart; he made me known to the son of the King of England; he sent me to the place of education, where I learned the art of war ac- cordinGf to wisdom. My ambition is, to lay my knowledge at the feet of your Majesty 5 and to serve you to the best of my abilities. For know, O my King, that what is not built upon knowledge, though it was so very strong and lofty, is, as it were^ built upon sand. Therefore, my purpose is to go w^ell instructed into your Majesty's service, and to carry with me men skilful in all things^ (if you give me encouragement,) to strengthen t 193 3 &tiA polish your kingdom, like the kingdoms of Europe ; for you have a good country, and com- mand over many brave men : and if you could gather the Armenians, a rich and trading peopled who are scattered to the east, and to the west, and the norths and the south, undfer the protec- tion of your Majesty's mig;hty^ arms, in your own. country, no kingdom in the east would be like your kingdom^ for riches and glory. May the eternal GoB, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, sharpen your scymetar upon all your enemies, and strengthen the' wrist of your Majesty's right-hand, to protect our distressed nation, according to the wishes and labours of your serVantji JOSEPH AMEEN. LETTER XLVII. From Joseph Ameen to his Fathers MY FATHER, London, 17—. THE son of virtue is bravery, and bffetVery Cannot be without virtue: for as the Son proceedeth from the Father, so bravery does from virtue; More plainly to speak to thee, O ray father ; thou art a virtuous man ; and if 1 am thy true sony I am bound to be I 194 ] brave J by which I may be worthy to be called thy son, and also worthy of the name of that of our great forefather, A meen . O my father Joseph, the reason of ray departure from thee is to obtain bravery. What are thy thoughts ? Dost thou think, that I am come here only to learn the English language ? No : I am come to learn the art of war, which is preferable to all the arts upon the world ; this art is so precious, that it is always spoken of in the presence of Gaesars and kings. By this very art we are to give battle against the persecutors and enemies of our Christian nation, which stands captive under their hands. It is inexpressible, the pre- ciousness of this great art ; for without it, it is impossible that our religion should ever shine. We shaU always be persecuted under our ene- mies, if we do not strive to learn it. My father, these were the reasons of the departure of thine only son ; and when I used to mention them to thee, instead of commending me for it, thou didst always insult me, and turn thy countenance from me, as if I was speaking of treason. And now I would not tell thee so plainly and openly my mind, if I had not accidentally met a Noble- man, who, when he was made acquainted with the counsel of my heart, and the hardship which I underwent for the sake of my nation, was suri prized; loved me like a father; gave me moneys r 195 ] spoke of me to the son of the King" of England, and also to several Noblemen. Again, he asked me what was my design, that made me come away from my father? And when I made answer, and said, that I am come to learn the art of war, still he loved me, and comforted me, and said to me, *' Be contented, I will make interest for ** thee to the son of our King, to give thee order ** that thou may est go to the place of education, " and learn what thou desirest ; where are all the ** sons of noblemen learning the art of war, and ** thou shalt learn the same with them." O my father, be glad ; for God is with me. I am not come here to learn luxury and extravagancy; I am come to obtain worthiness, to learn wisdom, to know the world, and to be called a perfect servant to my sheeplike, shepherdless, Armenian nation. Again, know ye, that if you had made a present, or had spent 5000 rupees, you could not be able to get me such great and noble friends. Therefore, it is Almighty God that has showered down upon me his infinite mercy; for it is He that knows the counsel of my heart, and my heart is unto Him. He is Father of all that trust in Him ; without Him is nothing, and nothing can be done. Michia, my uncle, you seem to be very angry with me, my beloved. What were my sins ? Why have you forgot me in that manner ? Why o 2 [ 196 } don't you comfort me with a philosophical letter of yours? I have driven myself even to death, for your sakes; and instead of encouraging me, you think me a prodigal. I believe, that you have heard of the wrath of my sweet father, who had rejected me from being his son. After his arrival on board of the ship, he sent a letter to the hand of my shepherd David, and it was written in this manner : " Brother David, knowest thou so far, that ** there is no absolution for Ameen, my son -, ** unless he is crucified, his head downward, fur ^* the sake of his nation, as Apostle Peter was '< crucified/' Thou seest he was comparing such a sinner as me to that great saint ; but he should have patience to stay, that I might obtain worthiness first, and then be crucified. He thought that he could pronounce that word crucified with ease ; but he did not imagine the difficulty of the loss of his only son : and after all those great torments and hardships which I have been under, I am beginning to make his name and yours to shine* You all desire me to return ; ignorant I came, and ignorant you would have me to go. You are indebted to hearten me. I am con- tented to obtain an empty letter, either from thee, or from my father; even that you will not do. my compassionate uncle, if I have sinned i w 1 'fcefore my father, tell me what evil have I been culpable of towards you? why i/om forsake me so? I know, within myself, that it is only my Ruler David, who bears and weig-hs the torments and smarts from my father. My father cannot blame you ; for, at the time of my desertion, you was at "Soidapad; and my Ruler David at Calcutta, from whence I took my flight ; there- fore, let me die for him ; let my blood be under his feet. It is tnie, that you are my shepherd ; but he is only my Ruler and my manager, my comptroller amd my comforter, my supporter and my teacher. I cry, I roar for David to see; but in vaia. 1 cannot — — and thou, Mirzabeck, the soul of my soul, ******** My Ruler David, thy favour of the 3d of February, from Hugley, arrived here the 14th December, 175o, by the hand of John Mills, to the hand of Stephartus Coggian ; but I did not «ee the person who brought thy letter. I received it from Stephanus. It was a great joy to me to obtain such a fatherly letter from thee; and I was very thankful to God for having such a Ruler as thee in this world. My sweet father is a little angry with me, that 1 did not submit to his will ; but I know within myself, that a fruit- ful tree is dear and humble, its branches bend tp the ground. Therefore, while I am fruitless, it is impossible for me to obtain humbleness ; [ m ] but when I am fruitful, it is natural then I should be humble. A second example. A valiant warrior, while he is in the battle, is obliged to appear proud; first, among- his soldiers ; secondly, against his enemy; and, if he should obtain a conquest over them, it is then natural to appear humble, if he is a true warrior. These are my less understanding thoughts; may your great wisdom approve them. J last year sent two letters, by the hand of Mr. Davis, to the hand of Mr. Manningliam. to be given to you. I am in great hopes that you will perform what I have already desired in them ; to write to Mr. Davis, to pay me the money deposited in his hands; but if not, let it then be your pleasure. Let me tell you, that I have no need of money here : but you will all repent, for not believing your son. So much is sufficient to your understanding, if you read this letter with care and wisdom. But if you please to be friends with me, it is a debt upon you to do ^Aw^,— ^First, to write to Mr. Davis, to pay me the 500 rupees; secondly, a letter, with great thanks, and presents to this my protector Nobleman, of whose name I shall mention in this letter. The presents that yQu shall send me are as follow : ***** They may be worthy of this great Nobleman's lady, whose great spirit and generosity is higher C 199 ] |h an language,, and who herself stooped down to take notice of me. My father, yon will think that I don't want to come home to you. Don't you think so. I long for it. My longing is measureless ; and it is so great, that I cannot explain it. Your Ipve is as hot in my heart as fire; and for the sake of that love, 1 have first made myself a mariner, and laboured hard for six months ; secondly, when I arrived here, I did serve to Stephen, like a captive ; thirdly, after turning me out of his house, three weeks I lived upon threehalfpence a day. Fourthly, I went to sell myself, but Pro- vidence sent to me the son of my schoolmaster, who delivered me from being recaptive. Fifthly, I have lost one year's service. Sixthly, I was a load carrier, a porter, for two years, and paid £17 out of that laborious and slaving employ- ment to Stephen, who spent for me while I was with him. And at last, from portership, did arise myself to clerkship. There I have writ about three months^ -, and absented from thence, I was again driven into my old distresses. O father ! without money, without friend, but the Lord in heaven ; until, one day, this great man, whom I have mentioned above, who had beard of my character, sent me his servant, and 1 was admitted to him; and when I was come into his presence, after knowing my counsel, and the law which is r 200 3 for you, and for my nation, he was surprized, and said to nae, " Ameen, it is very hard to live <' in this country without friend, and without *5 money, ajmost four years; therefore the Lord f* is with you. Be contented ; I will from this f* time provide and furnish you with all neces- f* saries;** and, said he, '' 1 will mediate to the f* son of our King ; and, after you have learned ^* the art of war, 1 will send you to your father ^f and uncles.'* The noble lady comforted me likewise, and said, ^' Don't despair ; be glad ; ** O zealous for thy country, Ameen.'* Be not afraid, then, my father. Almighty and Sabath God it is, that has put in my heart to depart from you, and come here, that I might be able to serve my masterless country. Therefore, pray to God for me, with a strong mind, with trust and patience. The name of the nobleman is the Earl of Northumberland ; he is a lord of a great worth with the King of this land. Great men, and nobles, all that know him, love him; and it is three weeks since he knew me. I dine at his palace ; and he has giv^n me a good deal of money and books; his goodness and friendship is measureless. Many times I dined with great meii here, throvigh his friendship. It is to him that I am indebted for great strength and com- fort I receive from a nobleman, called Sir Charles Stanhope, who is father to me. H^ haa C 201 ] ^ade me known to another nobleman, calle4 my Lord Cathcart, \vho is a soldier, and gave me much encouragement. Once more be glad. As to what I have writ to ygU;, perform it. The loss of seven years I shall repair in one month ! God Almightx will dejiver us from all diffi- culties. Be ye all in health! J. A, [ 202 ] DOCTOR SAMUEL JOHNSON, AND JOSEPH FOWKE. Esq. Of the colossal intellect, varied learning, exemplary morality, and warm piety, of the celebrated Samuel Johnson, it is unnecessary to say^any thing; since the general opinion, with respect to this extraordinary man, seems to be, that " take him all in all, we ne*er *' shall look upon his like again." A few particulars, however, of one of his correspondents, Joseph Fow^ke, Esq; who had the honour to be considered as a " dear *' friend'* by the Doctor, may not be uninteresting to the reader. This gentleman, who died three or four and twenty years ago, at a very advanced age, was born about the year 1715, and entered into the service of the East-India Company at the age of 17. He remained at Fort St. George till 1748, and was so high in the opinion and esteem of his employers, that when he returned to England he was pressed by the Secret Committee of the East-India Directors, (in whom the regulation of the affairs of the Company was then entirely placed,) to accept the government either of Bengal or Madras. This offer being made previously to the conquests of Lord Clive, and the cession to the English of the great provinces of Bahar and Orissa, was by no means so advantageous as it might at present be considered. Mr. Fowke, therefore^ declined it ; and remained in England until 1771- At this period he returned to India ; where some differences of opinion unfortunately occurred between him and the Provisional Government, which ended in his being tried in June [ 203 ] 1775, in the Supreme Court of Bengal, under two indictments. In the first of these trials the verdict was, not guilty. In the second, which came on imme- diately afterwards, and in which Mr. Fowke was im- plicated with Maha Rajah Nundocomar and Roy Rada Churn, the verdict was, ** Joseph Fowke and Nundo- *' comar, guilty; Rada Churn, not guilty." In the year 1788, Mr. Fowke finally quitted Bengal with a recommendation from Lord Cornwallis to the Court of Directors, as a person entitled to receive the pension which was promised to their servants, return- ing from Bengal out of employment, under their ge- neral letter, dated Sept. 21, 1785; which directed, that ^^ such senior merchant, whose fortune was not equal *' to 10,0001. should receive as much annually as, with *^ the interest of his own money, should make up an ''income of 4001. per year." This recommendation, together with a petition, was presented to the Directors on Mr. Fowke's return. They were, however, rejected, and an answer returned, *' that the Court did notcon- *' sider him as coming under the description of persons " entitled by their orders to receive pensions; and that, " therefore, his request could not be complied with." After a lapse of some time, the claim was discussed in the House of Commons, when the following resolutions were made in his favour. ^^ Resolved, That it appears to this House that the *' petitioner, Joseph Fowke, has proved the allegations *^of his petition. *' Besohed, That it appears to this House, that the *' said Joseph Fowke is entitled to the pension or al- " lowance engaged to be paid by the East-India Com- " pany to their servants, under certain descriptions, and ** under certain conditions, expressed in their letter from " the Court of Directory of the 21st of September, [ 204 ] ^« 1785j to the Governor-General and Council of Ben- « gal, from the time in which, by the said letter of the ^* 21st of September, 1785, persons described in the ^' said letter were to receive the same." Mr. Fowke retained the vigour of bis intellects to the close of his life; and what, perhaps, is still more remarkable, wrote, till his death, a hand of singular firmness and beauty. The activity of his mind, and liveliness of his imagination, remained to the last; as will be evident from the following ietters,written at, or nearly, the age of 80. His conversation was sprightly and entertaining; highly seasoned with anecdotes, many of which related to his great and venerable friend, Samuel Johnson : among jthese he was accustomed to relate the two following. One morning, on Mr. Fowke^s calling on Dr. John^ »on, he found the] Sage somewhat agitated. On enquiring the cause, ** I have just dismissed Lord •' Chesterfield/' said he ; ^' if you had come a few ** moments sooner, I could have shewn you my letter ** to him." Then musing a little, he added, *'Hpw- ^' ever, J believe I can recollect it pretty well :" and immediately repeated a very long and very severe epistle ; much longer, Mr. F. used to say, than that which is given by Boswell. Mr. F, further remarked^ that, upon this occasion, Johnson told him^ Lord C. sent a present of lOOl. to Johnson, to induce him tq dedicate the Dictionary to him ; *• which I returned,'* Said he, " to his Lordship with contempt:*' and then added, ** Sir, I found I must have gilded a rotter^ " post ! Lord C. Sir, is a wit among lords, but only ** a lord among wits.'' Mr. Fowke once observed to Dr. Johnson, that, in his opinion, the Doctor's literary strength lay in writing biography, in which lirie of composition he infinitely [ 205 ] exceeded all bis contemporaries. *' Sir," said John- son, " I believe that is true. The dogs don^t know how *' to write trifles with dignity." Then, speaking of the difficulty of getting information for the subject, he aaid, that when he was writing the life of Dryden, he desired to be introduced to Colley Gibber, from whom he expected to procure many valuable materials for his purpose. " So Sir," said Johnson to Gibber, "I find ** you knew Mr. Dryden ?" * Knew him ! O Lori>, I * was as well acquainted with him, as if he had been * my own brother.* '* Then you can tell me some '" anecdotes of him?" *0 yes! a thousand I Why we ' used to meet continually at a club at Button's. I re- ' member as well as if it were but yesterday, that when * he came into the room in winter time, he used to * go and sit close by the fire, in one corner ; and then * in summer time, he would always go and sit in the ' window.' ** Thus, Sir," said Johnson, ^^ what with ** the corner of the fire in winter, and the window in *' the summer, you see that I got much information^ '^ from Gibber, of the manners and habits of Dryden/* LETTER XLVIIL ^ From Dr. Samuei. Johnson to Francis FOWKE, Esq. SIR, July n, 1776. I Received, some weeks ago, a collection of papers, which contain the trial of my dear friend, Joseph Fowke ; of whom I cannot easily [ 206 ] be induced to think otherwise than well, and who seems to have been injured by the prose- cution and the sentence. His first desire is, that I should prepare his narrative for the press; his second, that, if I cannot gratify him by pub- lication, I would transmit the papers to you. To a compliance with his first request I have this objection, that I live in a reciprocation of civilities with Mr. H., and therefore cannot properly diffuse a narrative, intended to brin^ upon him the censure of the public. Of two adversaries, it would be rash to condemn either upon the evidence of the other ; and a common friend must keep himself suspended, at least till he has heard both. I am, therefore^ ready to transmit to you the papers, which have been seen only by myself; and beg" to be informed how they may be con- veyed to you. I see no legal objection to the publication; and of prudential reasons, Mr. Fowke and you will be allowed to be fitter judges. If you would have me send them, let me have proper directions; if a messenger is to call for them, give me notice by the post, that they may be ready for delivery. To do my dear Mr. Fowke any good would give me pleasure; I hope for some opportunity [ 207 ] of performing' the duties of friendship to him, without violating them with regard to another. I am. Sir, your most humble servant, SAMUEL JOHNSON. LETTER LII. From Dr, Samuel Johnson to Joseph FOWKE, Esq, DEAR SIR, April 19, 1783. TO shew you, that neither length of time, nor distance of place, withdraws you from my memory, I have sent you a little present,* which will be transmitted by Sir Rob. Chambers. To your former letters I made no answer, because 1 had none to make. Of the death of the unfortmiate man, (meaning Nundocomar,) I believe Europe thinks as you think; but it was past prevention ; and it was not fit for me to move a question in public, which I was not qua- lified to discuss j as the enquiry could then do no good, and I might have been silenced by a hardy denial of facts, which, if denied, I could not prove. Since we parted, I have suffered much sick- ness of body, and perturbation of mind. My * A coUe^on of the Doctor's works. [ 2(^8 ] tiiind, if I do not flatter myself, \s unimpaired/ except that sometimes my memory is less ready ; but my body, though by nature very strong, has given way to repeated shocks; Genua lahant, vastos quatit ceger anJielitus artusc This line might have been written on purpose for me. You will see, however, that 1 have not totally foi'saken literature. I can apply better to books than I could in soniie more vigorous' parts of my life^ at Jeast than I did ; and I have one more reason for reading ; that time has, by taking away my companions, left me less oppor- tunity of conversation. 1 have kd an inactive itnd careless life ; it is time at last to be diligent. There is yet provision to be made for eternity. Let me know, dear Sir, what you are doing. Are you accumulating gold, or picking up dia- monds? Or are you now sated with Indian Wealth, and content with what you have ? Have' you vigour for bustle, or tranquillity for inaction ? Whatever you do, I do not suspect you of pil* laging or Oppressing ; and shall rejoice to see you return, with a body unbroken, and a mind uncorrupted. You and I had hardly any common friends ; and, therefore, I have few anecdotes to relate t& you. Mr^ Levet, who brought us into acquaint- ance, died suddenly at my house last year, in hitt seventy-eighth year, or about that age. Mrs. [ ^09 ] Williams, the blind lady, is still with me, but much broken by a very wearisome and obstinate disease. She is, however, not likely to die; and it would delight me, if you would send her some petty token of your remembrance. You may send me one too. Whether we shall ever meet ag-ain in this world, who can tell? Lotus, however, wish well to each other. Prayers can pass the line, and the Tropics. I am^ dear Sir, yours sincerely, SAMUEL JOHNSON. LETTER L. From Dr, SAMtJEi. Johnson to Samuel Richardson, Esq. BEAR SIR, May 17. AS you were the first that gave me any notice of this paragraph, I send it to you, with a few little notes, which I wish you would read. It is well, when men of learning and penetration busy themselves in these enquiries ; bat what is their idleness, is my business. Help, indeed, now comes too late for me, when a large part of my book has passed the press. p ' ■ ■ ■■ [ 210 ] I shall be glad if these strictures appear to yoa not unwarrantable ; for whom should he who toils in settling a language desire to please, but him who is adorning it? I hope your new book is printing. Made nova virtute. I am, dear Sir, Most respectfully, and most affectionately,^ Your humble servant, SAMUEL JOHNSON- LETTER LL From Joseph Fowke, Esq; to •••*. London, June lOih, 1791* MY DEAR FRIEND, IN recovering my acquaintance, after an absence of twenty years, it is an inj^nite pleasure to see no diminution of excellence in the souls of those, with whom I was formerly connected in friendship, on the strength of in- ternal merit ; and that their beauty continue* the same, whilst the ravage of time has fright- fully deformed the earthly vehicle. lu con- versing with you at a distance, I view in you the charbasof youth; for virtue is immortal, and^ t 211 ] always in bloom. Your charity, irihocencei benevolence, and, above all, your holy sub- mission and patience in suffering, will scarcely allow me to think of the deformity of the tene- ment; but, on better recollection, 1 survey the ** wrinkles and dull luminaries with delight ^" the palsied hand inspires no terror, since the disproportion of body and spirit is a practical, and, at the same time, the strongest, argument I know, independently of revelation, for the im- mortality of the soul. Happy should I be, if I oould look back with your innocence on a past life ! All that is left for me is, to pay more regard to the future ; which I hope I shall not neglect. Before I received your letter, I had been acquainted with your sufferings. I pray God, that you may have seen the end of them*> and that the remainder of your days may pass in uninterrupted tranquillity and content. Your benevolent soul will receive some gra- tification, I am sure, from the perusal of the en- closed Resolutions of the House of Commons in my favour* If I get nothing in consequence,, they are honourable to me at any rate, as they were carried almost unanimously. I owe every thing to the zeal of Mr. Buike, who took up the cause of a stranger, favoured by no recom- mendation, on the principle, that no British subject ought to be aggrieved, without finding P2 [ 212 ] redress from the Commons of Great-Britain. He has been indefatigable in the pursuit of his object 5 and I hope he will be paid by the public with the increase of that reputation he deserves. Favours are much enhanced by the manner in which they are conferred ; and the following- notice I received from Mr. Burke on the7th inst. will shew how well he understands that secret. "I don't like to give you joy, till the money is in ** your pocket. **** shewed a disposition to " mutiny, and to disobey the House, till next *^ session, on the pretence that it was thin. But *' at any rate I resolved to go on. The Re- '^ solutions in your favour are passed. I am ^^ sorry for your illness. * # * * * * ^, ** Dundas behaved admirably and decisively. <^ I am happy in having contributed to your "satisfaction, and Sec, &c." Should I get an increase of income, I shall very likely treat ****, some part of the summer, with a tour through England, after two years' imprisonment ; and in this tour I shall contrive to see you, if possible. Farewell ] and believe me ever Yours, &c. JOSEPH FOWKE. [ 213 LETTER Lll. From Joseph Fowke, Esq; to ****. London, June lltJi, 1792. MY DEAR FRIEND, I can very truly say, I have been made happy by the receipt of a letter from you of the 7th of May, 1792, as it breathes a spirit of ease and tranquillity in a situation which many would think a state of trial and affliction. To see virtue triumphant, affords me at all times the highest gratification possible ; and I will still hope, that, in a little time, you may be able to acquire a free use of your crutches, which will be a considerable addition to your happiness. The opinion I entertain of your candour and sincerity, fully convinces me that you would say nothing to my advantage that you did not think; but the same sincerity on my side requires, that I should undeceive you in the too favourable opinion you entertain of the powers of j[V)sl: imagination, in supposing them undimipartake I never had much to boast of, but I V***^ \^ [ 214 ] scarcely a ray of li^ht left to cast lustre upon any subject. The other part of your compliment respecting my attachment to my old friends, I can honestly take as my due. My heart is warm as ever to true merit ; yet I always fear to pour it forth, lest its effusions should be mistaken for the flattery, which too commonly prevails in the world. I frequently suffer pain in sup- pressing grateful acknowledgments for kind- nesses that have been done me, when my wish has been to give an entire vent to my feelings. I entirely agree with you, that family know- ledge is not to be neglected in the education of a young woman ; and I can assure you, that *** will bear a strict scrutiny on this head : and I have a proof in her, that domestic concerns are no way incompatible with literary pursuits. She took leave of you, much disgusted with her drawing performances; but has lately taken her pencil up again, under the tuition of Mr. Edwards, who instructs the academicians. He draws in your style, and is, in my judgment, an able teacher, r draws in perspective, and pursues that very closely; but is not yet perfectly reconciled to her geometrical lines, and the an-^ tI^s a, B, C, and C, D, E, atever improvements / may hereafter my late tijxie of day, must be from L 215 ] Che living, and not from the dead ; I have not attention sufficient for a book, or I should cer- tainly have read Home's Elements of Criticism, upon your recommendation. I have much from a friend of mine in praise of , from the account you gave of her and . I lament that I have no opportunity of knowing them. These are the treasures I hunt after. " Give ** me the man," says Bruyere, or something like it, ^' from whom books are made." When- ever they fall in my way, I endeavour to make prize of them. Ah! where shall I find another Johnson, who, with all his failings, was a very superior being? I am sorry his biographers cannot be brought upon their trial for murder : it would be no difficult matter to convict them. I acquainted you, in a former letter, with the hopes I entertained of Mrs. Montague's notice of ****. She has, in the course of the winter, invited us both to dine with her. Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Chapone were of the company ; and 1 am sorry I did not learn the names of either of them till next day. I had formerly been in company with Mrs. Carter, at Mrs. Mon- tague's, about thirty years ago, but the least trace of her image remained not on my mind; so she has passed from me like a shadow, most likely never to be viewed more. I partake deeply in your concern for the loss of ****. It [ 216 ] is natural to grieve for the loss of a relation dr friend, but it is seldom we can be justified in it. We may justly be allowed to grieve, where we entertain doubts for the salvation of a person departed ; but in every other case we ought to rejoice, and it is selfish not to do it. It is rebellious, at the same time, not to submit with pheerful resignation to the will of the Almighty who n[iade us. You have made use of the softest balm to your wounds, by submitting with pious resignation to his will. If you should happen to fall in company with Lady ****, you will find her pleasing, and most jamiable for her philanthropy. There is no distress that she will not go to the bottom of her pocket to relieve. With a great deal of volatility, she is moral, and perfectly correct. Her daugh- ter **** has all her virtues, which are many, without her imperfections. By great pre- ferment in the Church, and many legacies, I understand that - — — is now become rich, which I am very glad to hear. The Mus- sulmen of India, of highrank, invariably con- clude their letters with, *' May you h?i\e peat "riches! what can I say more?" /do not impart this wish to my friends; for I look upon peat riches as the bane of all happiness. Farewell. I am afraid I have tired you ; and who is not wearied with the gabble of fourscore ? [ 217 ] I have, however, eight months to run, before I assume that venerable title. Believe me ever your sincere old friend, JOSEPH POWKE. LETTER LIII. From Joseph Fowke, Esq. MY DEAR FRIEND, Sept. 17, 1793. I Am much flattered by your enter- taining* letter of the 22d of last month, pre- ceded by another without date. If my faculties were not become torpid, you have thrown matter enough in my way for the subject of a very long letter; but, in my present state, I can write or read very little. I am a great deal more disposed to talk with you; and sincerely regret that I am not likely ever to have that pleasure, unless you would make a bold sally, and honour me with a visit this summer. You shall have a good apartment, and your own will I 218 3 in every thing; which is no small bribe to a lady. You mast pardon my replying to your favours with more brevity than is suitable to my inclinations. Plain and sincere professions of friendship and regard for those whose talents and virtues render them useful to society, are all the qualifications left for me in a correspon- dent. The hand of time has taken away the rest, and has given to dulness possession of the vacant spaces, which were occupied by imagination in the early part of my life. But, cold as I am, I was happy to find I could yet be delighted with agreeable scenes of your pointing out. The ruins of Tintern Abbey were beautiful beyond any thing of the kind I have ever seen ; they would, however, have been at least half as much more so, if you had been present to assist me with your remarks. There were many other rich scenes, all familiar to you, I dare say, which fed my fancy in a tour of four hundred miles; and both my companions and myself enjoyed them the more, as we gained an addi- tion of health through every stage, which has continued to us ever since. I repeat again, with sincerity, that I wish you had been with us, for your own sake as well as for ours. There is no fifoing through life without a little self- interest. I am willing, however, to think that fe\yare less governed by it than myself* J^ot [ 219 ] niany will flatter an old man; and, therefore, I hope I may be indulged in flattering" myself. 1 congratulate you upon the i^ecovery of your liberty. I had long been expecting to hear of the spring you made, but I am afraid you did it with a little too much violence ', however, I am glad to find that chance produced a good eft'ect, as it often does, where reason might have failed ; or, to speak more properly, Providence took care of you, when you did not know how to take care of yourself. I am inclined to believe, that this incident might be farther improved to your advantage. You have heard, no doubt, of Indian Fakeers holding their arms stretched up in the air till they have become fixed, like the branches of a tree. After endurino- this penance for years, they will recover the perfect use of them, by constantly rubbing them with oil. I am satisfied, if you had followed the same method, you would not have sufiered from any contraction of the sinews of your leg; and, perhaps, it might not now be too late. I judge native oil of turpentine to be the best for the purpose. The mention of India brings me to another part of your letter. I do not, in the least, wonder that Mr. Hodges has succeeded so well in his publications. I predicted, in India, that he would do so^ without seeing them, ^nd for no other reason than the originality of [ 220 ] his subjects. Sixteen years ago, I observed, on viewing some Indian prospects, that the imagination of Claude Lorrain would have been much improved by them. An inferior genius to Hodges would have profited in his situation ; by which I do not mean to rank him in a superior class, I mean only to lay a particular stress upon the advantages of original perform- ances. Perhaps I am less disposed to favour him, from having seen his landscape paintings only, for which he was paid an extravagant price; and they were executed so slovenly, that, in a very little time, you could not tell what they were intend to represent. As I could not help ad^ miring the celerity and freedom of his hand, one may suppose, that he could have done better^ but preferred gain to reputation. The defects I mention would not appear in the prints. In respect to Moorish architecture, I know not what he has represented, or what he may have seen, but nothing /have seen will bear a comparison with Greek and E.oman architecture^ Yet, I will not deny that some of the Moorish buildings are elegant; in which class I reckoii a Moorish mosque at Buhnares; but such speci- mens are not common. After all, I am con- fident you have been more pleased with the drawings, than you would have been with the originals. The pencil, in many instances. [ 221 ] iJurpasses nature ; and I know of nothing else that does. If you were to draw a little cottage with some few trees about it, and, at a distance, the owner returning from his labours, passing by a cow grazing, and a few sheep feeding, I should dwell longer, and with more pleasure, on the copy than the prototype. This is a fact which I am unable to account for; at the same time it must be acknowledged, that no painter could even approximate the beauties of the sun setting in the ocean, crowned with a gilded canopy of such varied tints, as fascinate the eye to the object. Why is a painter so much inferior in one part of his art, and so superior in the other? I, who am no artist, cannot answer the question* Mrs, , who is one, and eminently distin- guished as such, possibly may. After all, l^owever, you are so much better qualified than myself to judge of Mr. Hodges's merit as a painter, as to render all I might say on the merits of his pictures perfectly useless; but, in respect to his biographical talents, I shall not be equally reserved. How can it be sup- posed, that any man, after a residence of two or three years only in the country, and not understanding a word of the language, should be capable of describing, with justness, the character of its inhabitants ; and particularly as the pencil was scarcely ever out of his band? [ 222 ] I clo not tbink it possible to form an idea of at people, without possessing tbe means of con- versing with them freely. In such a state, confidence will be wanting ; and without con- fidence the character to be drawn will always be exhibited in disguise. What Mr. H. says of the loving wives of the Hindoos burning them- selves with their husbands is true, but not common ; nor is it so much to be wondered at in very high-minded persons, who live with every possible mark of disgrace, if they survive them. But I cannot subscribe to his character of Hindoo gentleness and simplicity. The ladies, of any rank or fashion, among them, are all kept out of sight; and such as become widows, in general, burn with a less pure flame tha^n he describes, and are very dexterous in their intrigues. The lower class of women are the most violent scolds I have ever known; far exceeding any thing that Billinsgate produces < and the lower ranks of men are furious, but their fury is the fury of cowards. The men of fashion, whether Hindoos or Mussulmen, are extremely polite and well-bred; far excelling us in their manners, if we except the first class of polite people in England. But, whatever their vices or virtues may be, I always behold them with tenderness, as a people who have felt the rod of oppression, which must ever stifle [ 22a ] great virtues. Such of them, however, who have taken to arms, have afforded many illus- trious examples of heroism ; I may say, uncom- mon ones, such as we should be puzzled to match. You will be pleased to observe, I have spoken only of Bengal Hindoos; those of the Decan, passing under the name of Gentoos, are, even at this time, a much better people, and, forty years ago, were the most virtuous people upon the face of the earth. Returning to them in 1772, after an absence of twenty years, I found them deplorably changed for th© Worse; partly from necessity, and partly from a more intimate commerce with the English and French. But I have gabbled too long on this subject; and though twenty others rise naturally out of it, I will do violence to my own inclinations, rather than tire out your patience by my garrulity. Adieu, then, my dear friend, and believe me. Your affectionate humble servant. [ 2U ] LETTER LIV. From Joseph Fowke, Esq. Malmeshurij, Septi 11, 11(97^ MY DEAR i^RIEND, ACCOMPANYING this you will re- ceive the ear trumpet you did me the honour to commission me to provide. I most sincerely wish you may never be forced upon the use of it. No terms can be found adequate to the miseries attendant upon the loss of hearing. In society, the sharpest of all human afflictions become tolerable. The wretch chained to the oar for life, feels relief from the animating con- solations of his fellow-sufferers ; and a prisoner in the Bastile has prolonged his life by an association with a spider. But the social prin- ciple, which is clearly the first and governing one of our lives, is totally destroyed by deafness. The deaf man can make no new friends ; and his old ones will forsake, because they cannot help, him; and the benevolent and tender-hearted will drop a tear, and retire. The busy and the gay will say, " he is off," and pass on to their amusements without difficulty. What happi- ness, then, shall be found for the man cut off [ 225 1 from the society of mankind ? There is only one left for him, which is, to relieve, to the utmost of his ability, those objects of deep distress which will constantly fall in his way ; and their grateful effusions are likely to make full amends for all his own wants. Upon your recommendation, the Femde Mentor has obtained a place in my library. The work has a great deal of merit, and has afforded me and others much entertainment in the reading'. The well-imagined and happily- executed drawing you were so obliging to pre- sent me with, and for which I return you my best thanks, has been bound up in its proper plac€. There is another performance of yours, which I wish you would have engraved ; it deserves to outlive you. It is the visit of a miser to his cash-chest, with a lighted candle in his hand, which, Jlarmgy happily divides his concern between that and the cash-chest. The cash-chest was secured, but the candle is wasting! Farewell! and believe me, in truth and sincerity. Yours, &c. JOSEPH FOWKE. [ 226 ] LETTER LV. From J osuLvnFowKE,, Esq; to ^*** Malmeshury, Nov. 20, 1797. MY DEAR FRIEND, IT was not my intention to have an- swered so soon your obliging letter of the 13th September last, had not I determined upon becoming an inhabitant of ****, in a few days ; where I shall for some time be busily oqcupied in providing myself with a house to suit me; by which I might incur the censure of neglect, in not giving you notice of my arrival, from my want of leisure to wait upon you. I have lived at this place, by the necessity of my circumstances, for abov0 eight months, with little other employment than counting thp pebbles under my feet — -nearly separated froi^i all mankind, I wished a thousand times for your happy turn to solitpde, but in vain : we are all impelled by the bent of our natures, and to that we must submit. My disposition leads me to company ; and now I cannot hear, I am happy to see people's lips move, though I cannot distinguish a word, or even hear a sound. For several days past I have been so deaf as to be ij able to converse with one person only -, and that [ 227 ] with difficulty, and by the help of ^n ear- trumpet. It would be unreasonable in me, labouring under such great infirmities, to expect any atiientions from a busy and interested world. The inost I can hope for is to be in- dulged in half an hour's conversation three or four times in a year ; so that you see, instead of breaking" in upon your private hours with ****, devoted to the affairs of this world, I will not promise that you will have as much of my com- pany as you might partially incline to favour me with. But this I faithfully promise, that you shall have as little of it, and as seldom, as you please ; I will allow you, for old acquaintance sake, to lay the most rigid commands on me, which I shall painfully comply with, without diminishing one tittle of the respect I have for your character. Frequent removals do not agree with old age; but I must submit myself tp the evil of necessity, which reconciles us to ^very thing. Adieu, and believe me ever Your sincere friend, JOSEPH FOWKE. a2 [ 228 ] Mrs. MONTAGUE The following particulars relating to tliis accom- plished female, alike remarkable for natural talent, acquired information, and uncommon benevolence, (whose praise will live long in her works, but longer in the remembrance of her compassion to a degraded and oppressed set of human beings, — 'Chimney-sweepers* Apprentices,) are extracted from " Nichols's Literary *^ Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century^ ix wis. Svo. ;" in which the venerable, learned, and very respectable author, from his own immense stores of information, and the large and diversified communications of intel- ligent friends, has poured forth such a flood of literary and biographical anecdote, as is not to be equalled, for variety and interest, by any work in the English language. " Mrs. Montague's father was grandson of Sir Leo- " nard Robinson, youngest son of Tho. Robinson, esq; of *' Rokeby, in Yorkshire. Her mother, Elizabeth Drake, *^ was a Cambridge heiress; and during her residence in '^* thatcounty, Mrs. Montague, then. Miss Robinson, deri- " ved great assistance, in her education, from Dr.Middlc- '* ton, author of * The Life of Cicero,' whom her maternal " grandmother had taken as a second husband. Her " extraordinary talents, as well as beauty, appeared from *' her earliest childhood. At this period she formed an *V intimacy with Lady Margaret Cavendish Harley, who, '• in 1734, married the late Duke of Portland. This '• w^as cemented by her frequent visits to Wimpole in *' Cambridgeshire, then the teat of Lord Oxford. Her •' letterti to this correspondcnijwhich v^ ere preserved from *^ hertweltlh year, shew her astonibhing prematurity of [ 229 ] ^' wit and language. Her ' Essay on the Writings and *^ Genius of Shakespeare,^ in answer to the frivolous " objedions of Voltaire, must rank with the best illus- " trations of oui* great English poet. The work is not *' an elaborate exposition of obscure passages, but a *' comprehensive survey of the sublimity of his genius, ** of his profound knowledge of human nature, and of " the wonderful resources of his imagination. But such " was the inimitable excellence of her letters, by which ** she carried on an intercourse with a large portion of " the literati of her time, till the close of her long life, " that all agreed in intreating, that, on some future day, *' they might be published. Lord Lyttleton, and Lord *' Bath, in particular, her favourite friends, repeatedly *^ urged it, as considering that the}' exhibit the fertility *' and versatility of her powers of understanding, and " the excellence of her disposition, in a more complete " manner than any other species of composition. The " same request was made by Dr. Young, Mr. Gilbert •' West, Lord Chatham, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Stillingfleet, *' Lord Kaimes, Dr. Beattie, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. " Burke, ^Irs. Carter, and Mrs. Vesey. Two volumes of *' her early letters were published b}^ her nephew, and *' executor, Matthew Montague, esq; M. P. in 1809, *' which were followed by two more in 1813. ''But *' when it is found," says her editor, " in the future *' remaining volumes, that she became, in her middle ** age, as remarkable for discretion of conduct, and " propriety of demeanour, as she bad been, in her child- ." hood and youth, for vivacity and sprightliness, the "progress of her disposition will appear to be no less *' interesting, than the improvement of her taste, and ** the enlargement of her faculties. Sbe was an exem- '* plary wife to a man much older than herself, and ** proved herself worthy to be the bosojn friend of a [ 55ao ] ^* husband, wliose strict honour and integrity as a geri-» " tleman, and a Member of Parliament, were not less •* conspicuous, than his unwearied diligence, and de'ep " research, as a man of science. We shall find her to ** be the most approved friend of the wisest and best " men of her age, as well as the most admired compa- " nion of the wittiest. Her conversation was sought ** by all who were distinguished for learning, for polite- *' ness, or for any of the qualities which give lustre, or " dignity, or influence. The scholar and the statesman " were alike desirous of her society ; and she was so " fortunate, as to acquire the esteem and attachment of *^ some men who united both characters. She was " permitted to entwine her myrtle with the bays of the " poet ; to share the cOunsds of the politician ; and to ** estimate the works of the historian, the critic, and " the orator. She subdued her propensity to satire J " and if her wit was so abundant by nature, as to be in- " extinguishable, she found means to temper its lustre, " that it should no longer dazzle by its brightness, or *' excite apprehension of a mischievous consequence. *' In her youth, her beauty was most admired in the ^* peculiar animation and expression df her blue eyes, *' with high, arched, dark eyebVows, and in the con- ** trast of her brilliant complexion with her dark brown *' hair. She was of the middle stature, and stopped » *' little, which gave an air of modesty to her counte- *^ nance, in which the features were, otherwise, so " strongly marked, as to express an elevation of senti- *' ment befitting the most exalted condition. As she *' advanced in age, her appearance was distinguished *' by that superiority of demeanour, which is acquired " by the habit of intercourse with persons of cultivated " talents, and polished manners. Her very look be- *' spoke the fire of genius, arising from strength of taste, [ 231 ] " and solidity oi" judgment. If to these (Qualification's " we add the soundness of principle, the tenderness of *' benevolence, and the calm piety of her latter years, " we shall behold a picture of an individual, who might " be justly terrried an ornament to her sex and country. " Mrs. Montague left her estate to her nephew, Matthew " Robinson, who had, by her desire, taken the name of *' Montague, and is younger brother to the present " Lord Rokeby." LETTER LVt From Mrs. Montague to Mrs, M. HarI'LEY, DEAR MADAM, February 2Sth, 1787. HE second volume of Euripides, which T set out this morning, would have waited On you much sooner, had I not retained it, out of a vain expectation, that I might make it serve me as an excuse to indulge myself in the plea- sure of accompanying it with a letter ; but my eyes have been so inflamed ever since I came to London, as to make me incapable of writing: they are to-day a little better, but will only assist me to express my wish that the book may not seem unworthy your attention. As no one is so ready as yourself to relieve real misery and [ 232 ] present distress, so, I believe, no one will more tenderly sympathize with well-invented fiction^ and the affliction of those who lived in ages past. I can never agree with our great Shake- speare, when he makes Hamlet say, ** What's " Hecuba to me? or I to Hecuba ?" for though one may not be a queen or a mother, or in the tank and situation of the person in the drama ; yet we are all the children of sorrow, and feel the like emotions, though excited by different occasions and events. You, Madam, who have a mind so exalted, that it cannot be oppressed by your personal sufferings, most sensibly feei the miseries ov misfortunes of others. I beg of you to do me the honour to present my respects to Mrs. Bowdler and Miss H. as well as to Mr. G., by whose elegant drawings I am enabled to make the best advantage of the fine feathers that you and many of my friends have bestowed upon me. With perfect esteem, I am, dear Madam, Your most obedient humble servant, E, MONTAGUE. [ 233 ] LETTER LVII. From 3Irs. M. Hartley to ****. September, 1800. TO you, my dear friend, the death of Mrs. Montagueniiist be a grief, as well as great loss; for you were in a situation to enjoy her friendship and society. When I read the article in the papers, it gave me an instant feeling of regret that I should never see her more; but when I began to con- sider the great improbability, that (if she had lived) we should ever have met again; I per- ceived that I ought only to think of the event as it had a reference to her. With regard to this life, she had passed through the best of her days; those which were approaching must have been gloomy and oppressive ; and when tlie feast of life is completed, happy are those who retire, before the dregs are drawn oiF. Age and infirmities, like any other evils, must be endured with patience, if it please God to prolong life; but if he think fit to take a virtuous person to an earlier rest, it is a happy escape from pain and sorrow. Yet these are considerations of small importance, in comparison of the state into which the spirit shall pass after it is severed from its mortal clay. If that be happy, how infinitely would be the gain, although taken from [ 234 ] the higlifest pinnacle of youth arid prosperity ! If miserable, how poor a reprieve would be the longest period that ever was given to human life ! The escape, therefore, from future misery, and the adttiission to future happiness, is ihe only object which can engage a wise man's wishes and endeavours. The period of life and the manner of death, we must leave to Providence: ** Nor lore thy life, nor hate j but wh^t thou Hv'st, *' Lire wellj how long or short, submit to Heav'n." As my intercourse with Mrs. Montague was never very intimate, I knew more of her inteU lectual abilities, than of her virtues. It was impossible to be in her company for an hour, without perceiving the superiority of her genius?^; the brilliancy of her wit; the elegance of her taste, (I mean in literature, not in dress); the extent of her information; and the engaging, polite, and easy style of her address. Never have I been more entertained and delighted, than with her conversation, wheni she has beeii so kind to visit me; and never was she more 3prightly and brilliant, or more kind and enga- ging, than in the last visit she made me; I shall remember the entertainment of that pleasant hour as long as I live ; and likewise her friendly expressions of regard to me, which arose from her friendship for my father and mother, the most delightful claim I could possibly have. [ 2S5 i k\\ these circumstances endear lierniemdry tome ; but, as I said before, those who knew her more intimately than I did, knew more of her vir^ tues. I have heard of them in the highest stile of praise, and I conceive that the loss of he^ munificence to the numbers whom she relieved, will be a lamentable privation ; but I hope she has remembered, in her will, those who were dependent upon her bounty while she lived. I wish you and our young friend could have heard a sermon that was preached here the other day, upon that text in the Psalms: " Where- ** withal shall a young man cleanse his way? ** Even by ruling himself after thy word." A more impressive and a more affectingr discourse I have seldom heard, and one stroke of it plea;sed me particularly. The preacher expatiated somewhat at length on the delight which a parent must feel on seeing his children turn out well ; but when he came to paint thei anxiety and misety of those, whose children, disappoint all their hopes, he stopped shorty and said, that " he must leave such distress of *^ mind to the imagination ef his hearers, for it *^ was far beyond his power to describe,'' This was truly classical, eloquent, and affecting. Yours, with sincerity and affection, M. H. [ 236 1 THE REV. DR. JEANS. THE amiable, learned, and very ingenious writer of the two following letters, was a native of Christ- church in Hampshire, and born in the year 1757. He was educated at Winchester College; where he became distinguished for his general talents, classical taste, arid rapid proficiency in elegant literature; and, on his( leaving that seminary, matriculated, at Qireen's College, Oxford. Some time after he had taken orders, he was presented to the living of Dibden, in Hampshire ; which he subsequently exchanged for that of Sheviock, in the county of Cornwall. Having received the most flattering invitations from the late Henry Hope, and isome other highly respectable inhabitantsof Amsterdam, he went to that city with his family, and settled there as minister of the English Episcopal Church for some years. The term of his engagement there being ex- pired, he returned to England, with an intention of residing in future on his preferment ; but so deservedly popular had he rendered himself in Holland, by his splendid professional talents, his amiable manners^ liberal and conciliating sentiments, and social and domestic vjrtues, that his congregation there used the^ most earnest entreaties to induce him to go back to them, and resume the charge of bis fiock for another term of three years. Unfortunately, he complied with their request ; but had not been long occupied in this, second engagement, before he fell a victim to the autumnal fever of the country, and died the 5th of October, 1807, at the age of fifty years. Dr. Jeans' style of preaching was peculiarly animated, energetic, [ 237 ] and impressive; and his reading ^ full of feeling, force, and dignity. His compositions were numerous, all characterized hy taste, elegance, and eloquence. It IS much to be regretted, that the public does not enjoy any of the productions of his fine genius, and varied acquirements. His poetical talents may be appreciated from the following little sonnet, which he addressed to an amiable young lady^ who was afflicted with an almost general palsy. To Miss Maria Elizabeth Guicherit* Meek suft'rer, patient monument of pain, Whose mind, though pent within a living tomb. Can smile at grief — Mild maid, accept the strain A pitying stranger sends to soothe thy gloom. But vain the Muse's wreath ! A brighter palm Is thine — the Martjn's crown ! A higher Pow'r O'er all thy sorrows sheds his healing balm. And whispers comfort at thy midnight hour. Would heedless beauty learn how frail her frame; See here the lifeless limb, the withering form ! In early youth the fell destroyer came, Maria bow'd submissive to the storm ! Tranquil she bears aiRidion's heaviest load. And Resignation slopes her way to God. It may be interesting to remark, that Dr. Jeans was, in a high decree, what is usually called " lucky," in the minor circumstances of life. As examples of this sub- ordinate good fortune, we may select, from many other instances, the two following circumstances. When a student at Oxford, he had received a bank-bill to settle his college account before a vacation. This he put loose into his pocket, and took a walk in Chrjst- church meadow. As he was crossing this extensive [ 238 3 piece of ground, he met with a fellow- collegian, witk whom he entered into conversation. Mr. J^ans was peculiarly anifP^ted ; ^nd, during the debate, he un- consciously rolled up his note into the size of a green pea, and shot it from his finger anii thumb, into the midst of the grps. The friends having parted, Mr. Jean^ went into the town to discharge some bills ; but on searching for his note, he dis- covered that it was gone. He went to his rooms, ransacked his escrutoire, table.drawer, pockets, and whatever he |:hoijght might contain the treasure; but all iq vain. At length it crossed his recollection, that he had been talking in the middle of Christchurcb raeadoW; and, while there, bad thrown something away. This might have been the note. It was, at all events, the dernier resort ; and he posted to the meadow. The grass was long, the area wide. He hfid scarcely, however, reached the middle of the field, before he descried the object of which he was in search ; htpt re- duced to so small a size, by compression and twj^tin^^ that it would probably have escaped every eye, but the sharp and clear-sighted one which was iq search of it. Shortly after Mr. Jeans had taken possession of his rectorial house at Dibden, having received a banlc-note of some considerable value, he deposited it, as he con- ceived, where it might be safe till wanted, and easily found when occasion called for it. The occasion soon arrived; but the place where it had been bestowed was forgotten, A general search was made, but without the desired success^ and the note was given up as ab* solutely lost. Some years afterwards, a travelling Jew called at Dibden rectory, He was a learned Rabbi; and Mr. Jeans entered into an interesting discussion with him, respecting some points of Hebrew literature. A difference of opinion arose, and to settle the matter [ 239 ] in debate, Mr. Jeans reached down a Hebrew Lexicon. He opened it par hazard , and, behold, the first object which met his eye in the expanded page, was the very note whose loss had occasioned him so much trouble and anxiety so long ago. The " good luck" of the discovery was much enhanced by the prize being pecu- liarly acceptable at the time when it was found. The following account of the dreadful catastrophe, mentioned in Dr. Jeans's second letter, is extracted from the Fifth Number of the Edinburglv Magazine for August 1817:— " In the same church (St. Peter's) lie the remains of f^ Gerard de Meerman, a well-known biographer. This '* man died of fright, in consequence of the explosion <' which took place here on the 12th of January, 1807. f A French vessel from Amsterdam, for Delft, lying in f' the canal Van Reppenberg, in the centre of the city^, <' laden with ten thousand pounds weight of gunpowder, '^ blew up about five o'clock in the afternoon, killed ." some hundreds of the inhabitants, destroyed great part " of the jtown, TUid produced the utmost havoc and con- ." sternation. My servant told me, he heard the noise ** at Amsterdam, two-and- twenty miles off. Many of " the inhabitants were sitting at dinner, and perished i^ among the ruins of their dwellings, with their wive* " and families. A Jewish school suffered considerably . " sixteen of the children were blown up. A charity i^ school near it was also destroyed, with ail its inmates. *' Fifty children at a boarding-school narrowly escaped, " by the collision of two walls, which supported the " roof; only two of the children were crushed to death, " and a third perished with fright in its father's arms. " Those who were saved rushed into the Court-yard, " and the meeting there of parents and children is f' described to have been terrible. The windows of ' [ 240 3 *< my bed-room command a view of this very spot, and ''of what I at first thought a fine park, with a canal, ** and trees, and pleasant walks. I did not then know *' that this was where the explosion had taken place, " and that at one period it was the most populous part " of the city. By this awful catastrophe several streets ** were annihilated, and Professor Meerman, with *' many others, died of fright. After the explosion, <' the town was discovered to be on fire in different *' places. It must, indeed, have been a tremendous '* night." LETTER LVIir. From the Rev. Joshua Jeans to *** DEAR R, Dibden, Feb. 18, 1788. 'W AM very much obliged to you for your two -"• letters, particularly your last; and I think myself honoured by the confidence which yott place in my judgment. I am, however, infi- nitely more pleased at the satisfaction you ex- press in beginning your theological campaign, than with any compliment paid to myself. The apprehension of being considered either as a hypocrite or an enthusiast would, perhaps, have prevented me from urging, in a strong manner, those sentiments which your letter expresses, [ 241 ] • Or from exhorting you to such a course of study as you are now pursuing*; much more from insist- ing on any of those secret pleasures which you ah^eacly begin to feel, and which always must attend the Biblical student, if he be really in earnest in his research after the truth. But, since you seem so delighted with the interesting prospect before you, let me entreat you, by all your hopes of peace and happiness, not to suffer your present ardour to cooL Remember, it is no uncommon stake for which you are contend- ing'. You begin to see that our religion is not the forged tales of priests and politicians, to keep the world in awe. As you advance, the great scheme will gradually unfold itself to your enlightened mind; and will appear to be har- monious and consistent, at least, as far as it is proper, or, perhaps, possible, for so mysterious a dispensation to appear to our narrow compre^ hensions. If I thought myself capable of lending you assistance, I would not be a miser of my know- ledge ; but you need no such aid as mine. Your own good sense, and the opportunities you will soon have of getting access to well-informed men, will place you far above any little instruc- tion of so obscure a man as I am, who have neither the advantage of conversing with scholars, nor of reading the best authors. * I: 24^ ] All the books you mention are proper. Let me advise you, however, to begin with the beginning. Don't pkmge too deep at once, but proceed consistently and leisurely ; and, above all things, avoid the polemical writers. Read the Old Testament first, particularly the Pen- tateuch and the Prophets; and do not fail to getPere Lamey's Apparatus Biblicus, translated by Bundy^ 2 vols. 8vo. For reading the Pro- phets, read Lowth's Isaiah, and Blaney's Je- remiah, comparing them with the old version. Hopkins has, also, given a new translation of Exodus, but I do not know the merit of the book. Before you begin with Prideaux, go through Shuckford's 3 vols, of his Connexion: this is a necessary introduction to the Dean's excellent work. Whether or not any writer has filled up the vacancy in the Connexion of Sacred and Pro- fane History, from the period where Shuck- ford concludes his third volume, to that where Prideaux begins his work, I cannot say, and wish you to enquire. Do not let those bewitching writers, Cribbon and Hume, give you a distaste to the homely language of Bundy and Shuckford. I need not guard you against the poison of these ser- pents. Whilst you read them, remember Incedis per ignes suppositos cineri doloso. t 243 ] If yoii have fixed on no particular book to fill 4ip a Sunday's evening, I will venture to re- commend Hurd's Twelve Sermons, introductory to the study of the prophecies. Wishing you courage and success in your Studied, I remain, Your sincere friend, JOSHUA JEANS LETTER LIX. From the Rev, Dr, Jeans lo **** MY DEAR SIR, Rotterdam, Jan. 30, 1807^ HAVING been obliged to absent inyself from your hospitable board on Thursday, I will endeavour to make some amends for my breach of good mantiers, by giving you a few particulars of the late catastrophe at Leyden.* If I may judge from what I myself have heard, many inaccurate accounts are in circulation. 1 shall now tell you the result of my own obser- vations, and relate some things which 1 received * Supposed to have been occasioned by the carelessness of placing a lighted candle on one of thp barrels of gunpowder* R 2 I 244 ] from authentic sources. From what I saw yesterday, I imagine that full five hundretl houses are already destroyed, or must come down, and that double this number are ma- terially injured. But this is my own conjecture; and all that has been hitherto reported on this head is only conjecture, for the full extent of the mischief cannot be ascertained, even yet. Mr. Van N., who must be as competent a judge as anyman, told me he could form no guess at the loss of either property or houses. Nor is the number of the dead exactly ascertained. A hundred and thirty is, perhaps, the utmost. If my calculation be tolerably correct, nearly one tenth part of the city may be said to be de- stroyed, for the number of houses in Leyden must be estimated at about ten thousand. It was natural for people to exaggerate on such an occasion. Popular description always heightens calamity. The lives that are lost do not exceed one-fifth part of what was originally reported. We were told, again and again, that every house in Leyden had suffered. If a few broken windows be excepted, I will venture to say that more than a fourth part of the town is totally uninjured. Still, however, the calamity is prodigieuSj and the loss is irreparable. But real truth will always, in the end, succeed better than extravagant exaggerations. For [ 245 ] wlien the public knows that the misfortune is much less than was represented, it will lose a great deal of its sympathy ; whereas, a contra- ry proceeding" would produce exactly a contrary effect. Dead bodies are still dug out. Four have been found this week. We (I mean myself, conducted by Mr. Van N.) visited the vault in St. Peter's church, where the corpses of unknown persons are deposited. The coffins were not numerous. The superstructure of this fine pile, which you may remember we con- templated with so much pleasure three summers back, is sadly mutilated, but the foundations are secure. The walls are cracked in several places; the windows destroyed; the vaulted roof rent from east to west ; and some of the larger grave-stones are moved from their places. Boerhaave's bust, and the other modern monu- ments, are safe, and are now covered over with wooden frames. The inside of this church exhibits a striking spectacle, aud gives a tole- rable specimen of the general confusion of the city. The whole pavement strewed with massy fragments of stone, wood, iron, and lead; the yawning vault in the nave left open for the recep- tion of dead bodies; large masses of shattered ornaments in every quarter; the spacious Gothic windows, most of them without glass or stone- work; all the ramifications either gone or broken; [ 246 3 the ceiling rent from one end to the other; the massy walls cracked; and the whole edifice filled with the ladders and scaffolds of masons, glaziers, and carpenters, all employed in repair- ing the mischief ! St. Pancrass, the Hooglandike kirk, which stands near the Burgt, is in the same mutilated state. Indeed, I wjts so much puzzled with the quick succession of objects, that I am not clear whether I have not con- founded this church with St. Peter's. But they both tell the same tale of destruction, and display nearly the same picture of desolation. Contem- plating the prodigious havoc which had been made in one moment, and seeing the eagerness and bustle of a multitude of workmen, collected from all quarters of the province ; some hang- ing in the air repairing the windows, or the vaulted roofs ; others making mortar, plaining boards, &c. 8cc.&c., I could not help comparing the industry of these bustling mortals to the toil of emmets, patiently repairing the ruins of their colony, when the gigantic foot of either man or beast has suddenly destroyed their little- city^ and crushed half their community. When the explosion happened, Mr. Yan N. (as a ma- gistrate) was called on to superintend the search after the bodies of the poor creatures who were buried in the ruins, as well as to guard their pro- perty from plundero The description he gave [ 247 ] of this memorable night was awfully interesting. About twelve o'clock it was a dead calm. The sky was overcast with dark thmider clouds, and wore a sullen aspect. The gleams of the nume- rous torches gliding here and there, gilding the broken ruins ; the flames which burst out in different directions from the unextinguished fires in the houses; faint flashes of lightning, accompanied by the deep mutter of distant thunder; the 4ioarse voices of the guards inter- rogating passengers; and, above all, the hollow groans, and feeble calls, of the unhappy sufferers, immured in the ruins, with the shriller notes of grief from distracted relations, who were listen- ing in agony to their cries, mingled with the still more distant sounds of sorrow from the crowds which thronged the adjacent streets and houses, impatient to hear tidings of their friends; all together—the hour — the darkness —the tra- gical event-^-^the solemn accompaniments — the various tones of lamentation, interrupted every moment, by the clattering of tiles, the fall of chim- nies, and the thundering crash of the roofs of the houses — formed such a combination of affecting and terrifying circumstances, as could not but convey a complete idea of sublime horror! My poor hostess, the Widow Cramer, who kept the Golden Lion, is amongst those unfor- tunate sufferers, who have lost their all ! [ 248 ] When Mynheer B***, the well-known na- turalist, returned home from the Hague after the catastrophe ; upon the first intelligence of it, he flew to his own dwelling", full of dread and apprehension; where, horrible to relate, the first object that met his sight was the severed, mu- tilated arm of his wife, which he recognized by the rings on her fingers ! For a moment he gazed on it in silent agony ; then snatching up the mangled limb, the only remains of the lovely being he had so lately left, and so ten- derly loved, he pressed it to his throbbing bosom, and, wild with grief, hurried from the fatal spot ! ! ! It has been said, that the bottom of the Gragt, immediately under the powder vessel, is of un- fathomable depth. This may be exaggerated, amongst other silly tales. Perhaps it may be somewhat deeper than before. The bank of the canal, where the vessel lay, is forced in nearly |;hree feet, and of course the Gragt is widened, I am, dear Sir, Very sincerely yours, J. JEANS. [ 249 ] THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. Mr. Newton, who died a few years ago, has left us a recorded account of the early years of his life, writ- ten by himself, in a little work with the following title : " An authentic narrative of some remarkable and inte-? " resting particulars in the Life of *** **#*^ comrau- " cated, in a series of letters, to the Rev. Mr. Haweis* "rector of Aldwincle, Northamptonshire; and bj " him (at the request of friends) now made public. " London, printed by John Baynes, 54, Pater-noster- " row." The narrative commences with his birth, and is carried on till his conversion ; and, it must be con- fessed, that (as we learn from his own account) his early years exhibited such a tissue of worthlessnessand profligacy, as rendered his change to religion and virtue a remarkable instance of the goodness and mercy of God. It may well be doubted, however, whether such public representations of depravity of heart, and per- sonal vice, can, in general, further the interests of piety and morality. It was the practice of the barbarous Lacaedemonians, alone, to exhibit their slaves in a state of drunkenness, in order to deter their children from the degrading sin of intoxication. Mr. Newton lived to a very advanced age, in the zealous exercise of his professional duties^ and in the exemplary fulfilment of every personal virtue; and died, &few years since, much respected and esteemed. [ 250 J I^ETTER LX. From the Rev, John Newton to Captain and Mrs, Hansard. London, May 17-^. MY BEAU FRIENDS, T Know not when I wrote, nor have I your -■- letter before me ; 1 am persuaded that I could not omit my congratulations on the birth of your son, ( who I hope is living and thriving ;) I am therefore willing to think that you are in my debt. However, as I wish to send you the enclosed, and want to hear of you, I write again; and if I have written to you before, you may be revenged by sending me two letters for one ; they will always be welcome. You are proper persons to receive my Ebe- nezer, You were acquainted with my dear one, and are better qualified, for that reason, to form some due estimate of my loss ; and further, the time will come, though I hope it is yet far distant, when one or the other of you will pro- bably be in my situation ; for it seldom happens that both are called home on the same day. But blessed be the Lord, who enables me to confirm to you, from my own experience, all [ 151 3 that you have ever heard or read of his all- sufficiency. Though I had often grieved his Holy Spirit by my idolatry and folly, yet when I was brought low, He helped me^ He rebuked me for my sins ; but He upheld me with his gracious arm, enabled me to bow to his will, and to kiss his|rod. I was indeed sharply tried, and in a point where my feelings were most sensible and ez^quisite. 1 have a lively remem- brance of what she was, when He first gave her to me, and of what she was before He took her quite away. Ah ! what a change ! But He spared her to me more than forty years, though I had deserved to forfeit her every day. I had a painful part of observation, darker every day for more than six months; but I was upheld. I would not go over the same ground again for the treasure of both the Indies. Bat I can say, He has done all well. I love my friends. I loved Mr. and Mrs. B., Miss P., and my own Eliza ; I felt keenly when fhey were removed : but I still had one left, that seemed to make amends for all ! The will of the Lord was declared by the event, and I acquiesced ; but how often have I thought, if she should be taken from me, though his grace might enable my spirit to submit, the flesh must sink under the blow, and I should never wear a cheerful look again. Yet He hr.s been better [ 252 ] to me than my deserts or fears ; JJe helps me to do very tolerably without her. I still live in the same house, where every room, and every chair, seems to say, " she is not here !" I sleep in the bed where she long languished, and where I saw har draw her last breath ; and I have never felt a wish to change the scene. Though no object appears quile the same to me, and a sort of sombre cast hangs over them all, yet I can relish my many mercies, and smile and chat ■with my friends as formerly. I know not that I am more or less affected than 1 was the first day after she left me. I write this for your encouragement. Ima- gination is a busy painter, and disposed at times to draw frightful pictures of what wi«?/ happen : but we may depend upon it, that nothing shall happen, to which His promises of strength, according to the day, and ** grace sufficient for ** us," shall not render those who trust in Him fully equal. He chastens and tries us, not for his own pleasure, but for our profit, to make us partalers of his holiness; otherwise betakes no delight in our groans and tears, but rather in our prosperity, so far as he sees it safe for us; and even when it is necessary to put us into the furnace of afliiction, Ae sits by, like a refiner of silver, to watch the process, and to take us out when his merciful design in our favour is fully answered. i: 253 ] The distiince between my house and ****, and the limits of my time, would not permit me to visit you in person ; but I am often with you in spirit, and by Mr. ****'s description, I am helped to form some idea of your situation. How different from mine! You can walk a mile from your home, without being* stunned with noise, or shocked with wickedness ! You can view the sea, or the mountains, whenever you please. You are surrounded by the works of God, which speak powerfully, though with- out an audible voice, to the attentive mind. I am encompassed by men, the most of whom are serious about trifles, and trifling in the coneerns of most importance. Some bustling*, and some dancing, into death. " Oh ! that 1 had wings ** like a dove,'' for then would I likewise some- times retire to the mountain, or stand on the sea shore ! But ?/ow are in your post, and / am in mine. In some things our situations agree : the same sun that shines in Wales, shines also upon us ; and the same " Sun of Righteousness" is equally near in all places. Local distance ■may. separate bodies, but it cannot affect minds; and they who can meet at the same throne of grace, cannot be far asunder. Though I love the country, I may be thankful I live in London; for God makes me acceptable, and 1 hope use- ful, in my ministry. And your prospect froia r 254 ] the highest hill in yoar neighbourhood is not to be compared with mine from St. Mary^s pulpit on a Sunday. GOD has also blessed me with many friends, many endeared connexions; and therefore I need not envy you your mountains; for though I meet with riot and disorder in the streets, through mercy, we have love and peace at home. What a mountain is the heavenly Zion! Though we cannot see it with our bodily eyes, Jaith can realize the invisible hill, and tells us, that every day brings us nearer to it. Here we are but strangers and pilgrims. There we shall be at Jiome, No care or sorrow can reach us at that height. Then, surely, we shall say with St. Peter, *' it is good for us to be here." But we shall not, lil^e him, be constrained to come down again from that summit. We shall have a delightful review of all the way by which the Lord our God led us through this wilderness, and shall see, that mercy and goodness followed us through every step. May w^e now believe it! let us not credit the report of sense to the contrary ; faith, in-» structed by the scripture, says it is so, it must be so, it shall be so. My dear Bessy is well, and joins me in love. Heaven bless you and your children. I am your affectionate friend and servant, JOHN NEWTON. [ i'>5 3 THE REV. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN. For the particulars of Dr. Buchanan's life, cha- racter, and writings, we beg leave to refer our readers to a work recently published, entitled, " Memoirs of " the Life and Writings of the Rev, Claudius Buchanan^ *' late Vice-Provost of the College of Fort William^ in ''Bengal:' By the Rev. Hugh Pearson, M.A. St. John's College, Oxford; a work which is evidently the production of a scholar, a gentleman, and a christian ; displaying a mind deeply embued with piety; a culti- vated taste; liberality of sentiment; and very consi- derable skill in elegant composition. Mr. Pearson was also the successful candidate for a Prize Essay, instituted by Dr. B. which is published under the following title, " A Dissertation on the Pro- " motion of Christianity in India ;" to Mhich is pre- fixed, *^ A brief Historic View of the Progress in " different NationSy since its first Promulgation ; illus' " trated by a Chronological Chart, 4to. I5s. in boards J^ [ 256 ] LETTER LXI. From JDr, Claud. Buchanan to ***, Escf. Queens College, Jan, 29th, 1799. *MJ is in College, He and sonie of his *^ • friends have been contributing to the relief of a sick distrest musician. I took the liberty of subscribing half a guinea for you. As the public subscriptions for the poor are liberally filled, I shall not trespass farther on your bounty. I sometimes take my gun out to the country, not to kill game, but to procure health. In my excursions I have an opportunity of seeing how the poor struggle against cold and hunger. Hovi^ you would value my opportunities! I entered a cottage yesterday morning. " Pray, "my good woman, why do your children lie •* in bed ? are they sick ?" *^ No, Sir, but they ** have no fire to sit by, so I am obliged to make ** them lie a-bed most part of the day." ** Pray, ** good woman, have you got any thing for me ** to eat ? I have walked a good way, and am *' very hungry." She looked embarrassed for a moment, and then burst into tears! f 25^ ] 0, ye fellow commoners, who are in the habit, not of administering to each other's wants, but of contributing to each other's diseases and death, by five guinea suppers, how * * * * P. desires his compliments to you. Our subject next Tuesday evening- is emigration. P. is greatly improved. Our Monday evening is prorogued till the division, for want of mem- bers. It is rumoured, that your abilities for oratory are above mediocrity. I wish that you Would convince us that this is true, when next w^e see you. Is it true, that you have resolution to write a little every day? I could believe any thing of you, would you but return to those daily exercises of piety, which your conscience dictates. But till that hour comes, all your resolutions must prove temporary, and, there- fore, nugatory. My dear fellow, look around you. Is not your country falling ? Perhaps a new order of things is at hand. In any event, you may be called forth, to defend the old, or modify the new, system. Seek, therefore, piety as a man, eloquence as a citizen. Be not a man of pleasure, rolling down the stream of fashion, unheeded and unknown. Be magnanimous. Have the fortitude to speak what you think, in all places, and upon all occasions, when con- science suggests it. He who thinks that mag- ninxity consists in any thing less than despising s t «58 ] fashion, \V hen it interferes with duty, has nopfe^- tensions to this virtue. He may have many ether virtues, or rather semblance of virtue; but if he have not this, he is nothing. Most men who fight duels have not a spark of magnanimity, but are actuated by a base, cowardly fear. Tkis is no paradox to those who recollect how many false principles, pseudo virtues, and counterfeit feel- ings, ever encrust the slave of fashion, I court St. Cecilia a little, when my study of the modern languatges permits. But that lan- guage, which, it is said, was taught by God himself, occupies my attention most. * * « W. of ****, is senior wrangler. W. lectures on chemistry next term. Your plan of eircum* scribing your system of study is promising. I hope that temperance, country air, and exercise, have by this time given you health sufficient for College use. C,B. LETTER LXIL From the same to the same. DEAR **** Wednesday evening^ ^d Jan. T hope I shall have time, before the post sets off, to write you one page at least, I rejoice to find that you are seriously engaged in seeking peace. Only persevere, ottly be mii- [ 259 ] form for a few weeks, a few days, and you shallj you must have it. He who loved you so much as to die for you, has lio pleasure in afflicting" you without cause : he taketh no pleasure in behold- ing his children, who are contented to come out from the world, and bear his reproach, pass their hours in heaviness, disconsolate and ir- resolute. He himself set an example to you, and to me, how we ought to live. He had always one grand object in view, — doing his Father's wilh He went about doing good continually : his one grand object was doing good to the bodies or souls of men. Perhaps you and I have not to this hour, thought seriously of being useful, either to the bodies or the souls of men ! Our Saviour's life was a continued scene of activity. This is for our learning. Let no indolent habit ensnare our souls. Action is a great blessing to man. The miser has his enjoyment, — the trader, the ploughman, the man of business: the man of parts alone, like you, the man of improved understanding, he who can teach others, he is unhappy, because he is unemployed. 1, therefore, will promise, from this day for- ward, to have one, and only one, great object in view; and that will be, giving glory to Gob, and ** doing good to the souls and bodies of S2 [ 260 ] " men.*' Every thing must henceforth give way to this grand purpose. Every book I read, every conversation I hear, every walk I take, must assist in giving me new ideas, or new helps in this work. Only let me for ten days vie with the world- ling in industry, and then you shall see the fruit. My dear *♦**, whether you be heavy in heart, or merry, be active. Be active in prayer, or reading, or conversing, or walking, or riding. Sink not into fits of lethargy, which are death to the body, and death to the soul. You seem to expect too rapid a revolution in yourself. But be content *^ with the day of small " things." God could, as you wish, work a mira- cle, and restore you to health of body, and to health of mind. " But He will be sought " after." His invariable method of dealing with his children, through every age of the christian church, is, ** his spirit co-operating " with their prayers," and leading their minds from one degree of knowledge to another, from one degree of confidence to another, from one degree of peace to another. He has given you, m your past experience, every thing you have a title to expect. He gave you at Cambridge to taste a few days of that peace which the world knows not of; and which you attained at an easi/ price ; and which I 261 ] you might have kept to this day, (a seed then, but now a tree,) shedding its kindly influence on'many a hapless soul, you may have since seen. This peace you have once more attained, or are about to attain^ ** for he that seeks shall ** find." Keep the jewel safely. Quench not the spirit. Two things are necessary for this. Offend not GoD by any presumptuous sin. Pray to him daily that his spirit may dwell in you. If you can read mathmatics pray do. I read them still. Anatomy, botany, astronomy, chemistry, are highly useful too, in preaching to this refined age the everlasting gospel. You seem to be distrest about something Doddridge has said. You need not. If Dod- dridge had written you this letter, he would conclude, probaby, with beseeching you to seek God in prayer, and in watchful conduct for some time; and assuring you that the result must be what God has promised, light to the understanding, and peace to the soul, I remain, dear ****, your's, affectionately, C. BUCHANAN. [ «62 ] LETTEIl LXIII. From Dr. Claud. Buchanan to T*»* E****, Esq; sen, MY DEAR SIR, Calcutta, July a, 1797. 1 Now sit down to discharge a debt which has been long due, but which I could not pay till now. But to whom shall I pay it ? Not to you only, but to Mrs. E**% whom I respect; and to M***^, whom J admire; and to T****, whom I love; and why not include your nephews, who are noAy, perhaps, at your fire- side, and whose attentions to me I ought never to forget. As I could not deliver your letters to your friends at Madeira, I delivered them to Neptune, We did not see Madeira. I passed three weeks at the Cape. I wish T**** had been with me there. Next morning, as I was walking up the street, I met five large ostriches, who were seeking their food about the houses like domestic animals. We had fresh ostrich eggs at breakfast; one is enough for six people. I prosecuted my botanical researches with success at the Cape. The geraniums grow wild, in great variety. I made a small hortus siccus of Cape plants, which I carried to India. [ 268 ] From the Cape we sailed directly to the south, to the 44th degree of latitude ; and then ran in that parallel, till we reached Sumatra. We coasted along that island, and then bore away for Madras. From the time that we left Ports- mouth till our arrival in India, we had not a bad hour. On our arrival at Madras, the cattamaran came on board. This is a log of wood of two feet in breadth and ten in length, on which two naked black men sit, and paddle it with great effect through the most violent surf ; and while they row, they bellow a song, which has no music in it, but they keep good time. I went on shore, and staid two days at Madras, On the third day we set sail for Bengal, which we reached in a week. The 1st of March brought us to an anchor in the ** haven, where we would be.'* On the morn- ing of our arrival, a young man, looking out anxiously at the land, and hailing with joy the end of his voyage, fell into the sea, and rose no more! Think of this a little, before you read further. In a few days after, Budgerows came down for us from Calcutta. These Budgerows are large Barges, having beds and convenient rooms, so that families live in them two or three months together, sailing up and down the Ganges, [ 264 ] The small ships of 500 tons go up to Calcutta ; but the large ships' can go no farther than Diamond Harbour, which is about fifty mile^ below. I sailed up to Calcutta * ^ * * * * On our arrival I was entertained by the Rev» Mr. *=***. In a week afterwards I took and fur- nished a house of my own. There are two splendid churches here. 1 am now at Barrackpore, a few miles from Cal- cutta, on the banks of the river. In ]S[ovember pext, I go farther up the Ganges, to a still healthier station. My friends wish to place me at last at Calcutta; bat they recommend tra- velling a little along the cool banks of the Ganges, as being useful in establishing my health, and naturalizing my constitution to the climate. Barrackpore, where I now am, has been called the Montpellier of India. Here 1 enjoy every thing that can minister to comfort, luxury, or elegance, except society. We have society too ; but it is only polite society. I have not many here, I fear, whose hearts are awakened to the love of virtue and truth. Nevertheless, I possess two companions of inestimable value; I mean those two books which are written by the finger of God — the book of God's word, and the book of God's works. These are treasures "^hich are inexhaustible ; and which afford me, I [ 265 ] ia my retirement, pleasure, company, and comfort. My dear fellow, bow are you ? The tear is in my eye, when I call you to mind. I passed many pleasant days with you. Our constant theme was virtue and truth. I wish I may re- member those lessons myself, which I used to inculcate on you. We had, for a while, a bro- therly affection. Distance and absence must influence all things ; but sometimes friendships are increased by them. But they are only in- creased, when both parties, 1st, Improve the day well in useful study ; 2d, Meditate on their being's use and end; and 3d, Endeavour conscientiously to discharge all the relative duties, whether to parents, re- lations, or friends. The man who forgets his God, will soon forget his friend. I wish much to hear of your health and pur- suits. I hope you are happy when at home; and that you find you can improve yourself there as well as at Cambridge. How is **'^'* ? He is fitted to be extremely happy or extremely miserable. He has noble qualities ^ and when the scriptures have wrought on him their perfect work, he will be an eminent christian. When you write to me, I dare say you will tell me all the interesting news you [ 266 ] can collect. But if you should not write to me, I shall not only think it my duty, but I shall find a pleasure, in writing to you, ♦ ♦ ♦ * L{;tter lxiv. To Miss E***». * * ^ * MOST of the young ladies herp attempt the harpsichord ; but there are, I understand, but one or two of any eminence in the country. There is one accomplishment which many of them labour to possess, namely, the art of conversation. They read a great deal, in order to acquaint themselves with general knowledge, that they may be able to bear a part in social converse. This is worthy the attention of some of their sisters at home* But then, too frequently, they have no christian ad- vice or example given them ; so that when they are on a sick bed, they have no comfort, and often die without hope ! This is a sorrowful picture. No attention is paid to the Sabbath in any part of India, but in Calcutta. The French honour their tenth day, more than we do our seventh. Whether I shall be useful in setting a good example, 1 know not. I may plant, and [ 267 ] another may water, but God alone giveth the increase. How is Mrs. T****? Does your mutual * affection still subsist ? If you are both good, it will. And now what more shall I say ? Shall I give you a picture of the scene around me ? I aqa situated on the banks of the Ganges. The country is champaign, but covered with trees ; the most numerous are cocoa nut, plantain^^ mango, and banian trees, (Pray learn all about them.) The river is covered with boats, passing and repassing. There are two Elephants amusing themselves at the water side. One of them is eating plantain leaves, which are his ordinary food ; he takes hold of the leaves with his trunk, and puts them into his mouth. The other i$ washing himself : he fills his trunk with water, and then throws it around him, so that he is covered with the spray. A little boy is now going to mount one of them, in order to lead them home; as he is not very heavy, he sits upon the point of the trunk, and thus the Elephant lifts him on his back. An elephant has no bridle. How, then, is he directed? The boy has a rod of iron, sharp at one end, and with this he pricks his head when he goes wrong. When the Elephant wishes to set down the ladies, who frequently ride upon him, he falls [ 268 ] upon his knees ; and when they have dismounted, he rises. He is altogether a wonderful animal. Next come a few Asses. I need not give you a description of them, but I must of the Camel that accompanies them : he carries an immense weight : he is nearly as high as the Elephant, and has a long neck, by means of which he can bring his head to most parts of his body. On the other side of the river I see a flock of Vultures ; they are hovering over a dead body, which is floating down the stream. Many of the Hindoos cast their dead into the Ganges, that they may be conveyed to Paradise ! About a mile up the river, a funeral pile is just lighted. It is now near evening, when this rite is usually performed. The relatives accompany the corpse to the water side, where a pile of dry wood is raised about the body, and the nearest relative applies the torcli. The jackals, allured by the smell, will presently comedown from^the woods, and prowl about. They live on carrion of all kinds, and are generally inoffensive. I write this in the viranda of my house; that is to say, under the shade of a projecting roof. A Parria dog craves an alms of me. These dogs are like your dogs, but they have no jnatsters. They are perfectly at large, and lie commonly in the woods, or near some house where they are encouraged. They are perfectly [ ^69 ] harmless, and are very useful in eating' offal and carrion, which, in a hot country, would soon produce infection. The air is frequently thronged ^vith kites, hawks, and crows, who are looking for snakes, and other noxious creatures; and they are so successful in their search, that we are seldom annoyed by these animals. So attentive is Providence to the comfort of man ! A woman burnt herself with her dead husband, about three days ago, a few miles up the river. This happens very frequently : and yet you European ladies think it great matter to make a voyage for a husband ! My servants bring me a glass of wine and water. Two are concerned in this operation : one of them will not touch the glass, though he will pour the wine into it ! So strange are the superstitions of these people. Another will wipe my shoes, but he will not wash my feet. A third will bathe me, but he will not fan me. You see, Miss E., what strange things we travellers behold. Have I told you all ? or shall I mention a North- Wester ? This is a violent tornado from north-west, which makes a regular and magni- ficent progress through the heavens. Violent wind, thunder, and lightning, roll on in a kind of collected body. This short-lived tempest is very awful and very grand. It is always a [ 270 ] welcome visitor ; for it cools the heated air, and refreshes all nature around. I am now so familiarized to violent thunder, that I scarcely ever notice it, except when I ^o out purposely to contemplate the grandeur of a North' Wester. LETTER LXV. To T. E. sen. Esq. * ^^ * I Began the enclosed at Calcutta^ iut i finished it at Barrackpore. I have not been a day ill, since I left your fire- side; so kind is that Almighty companion, who takes care of me wherever I go. When I am tired, He gives me repose ; when I am thirsty. He gives me drink ; when his sun is too hot for me, He gives me shade. Great happiness await* me on earth, as well as in heaven, if I keep my heart right before Him. Be that i/our study too, my dear Sir ; there is no comfort without it.* * * LETTER LXVL To Mrs, E. MY DEAR MADAM, * * * In every place I have met with some of the " excellent in the earth." Men [ S7l i and wonnen^ rich and poor, young and old. And they all have had the same truths to tell me, the jsame Christ to love, the same Bible to read. And they alone have been the happy, among all that I have seen, I thought it would be so, when I vi^as in England ; but now I know it. Farewell, therefore, my dear Madam; and may you, and all your family, both know and possess the things that contribute to happiness here, and to bliss hereafter. To all my Friends. MY dear friends, there are twenty pages for you from a foreign land. I may yet see some of you ; I shall certainly hear of you ; and I hope to hear of your happiness, health, and peace. If I could confer a blessing, I would gladly bestow it on you all ; but since I oannot, I shall pray that God will ; and I remain your very faithful and affectionate, CLAUDE BUCHANAN. Sarrackpore, July 5, 1797, t 272 ] Mons. VOLTAIRE, And GEORGE LORD LYTTLETON. Character of Voltaire, hy Frederick 2df King of Prussia, M. VoLTATRE is below the stature of tall men; or in other words, a little above those of a middling size; he is extremely thin, and of an adust temperament, hot and atrabilious; his visage is meagre, his aspect ardent and penetrating, and there is a malignant quick- ness in his eye. The same fire that animates his works, appears in his actions, which are lively, even to absurdity. He is a kind of meteor, perpetually coming and going, with a quick motion, and sparkling light that dazzles our eyes. A Man thus constituted cannot fail of being a valetudinarian. " The blade cuts away the scabbard.'* Gay by complexion; grave by regimen; open, without frankness; poUte, without refinement; sociable, without friends. He knows the world, and he forgetsit. In the morning he is Aristippus, and Diogenes at night. He loves grandeur, and despises the great ; with his supe- riors his carriage is easy, but with his equals, constrained; he is first polite, then cold, then disgusting. He loves the Court, yet makes himself weary of it; he has sensibility, without connections ; and is voluptuous, without passion. He is attached to nothing by choice. [ ^73 ] but to every thing by inconstaincy. As he rea^onfS without principle, his reason has its fits, like the folly of others. He has a clear head, and a corrupt heart i he thinks of every thing, dnd treats every thing, with derision. He is a libertine, without a constitution for pleasure; and he knows how to moralise, without mo- rality. His vanity is excessive; but his avarice is still greater than his vanity : he therefore writes less for reputation than money, for which he may be said both to hunger and thirst. He is in haste to work, that he may be in haste to live : he was made to enjoy, and he determines only to hoard. Such is the man, and such is the author. '* There is no other poet in the world, whose verses cost him so little labour ; but this facility of compo- sition hurts him, because he abuses it j as there is but little for labour to supply, he is content that ftttl^ should be wanted ; and, therefore, almost all his pieces are unfinished. I^iit although he is an easy, an in- genious, and art elegant writer of poetry ; yet his prin- cipal excellence would be history, if he made fewer reflections, and drew no parallels ; in both of which, however, he has sometimes been very happy. In his last work he has imitated the manner of Bayle ; of whom, even in his censures of him, he has exhibited a copy. It has been long said, that for a writer to be without passion and without prejudice, he must have neither religion nor country ; and, in this respect, M. Voltaire has made great advances towards perfection. He cannot be accused of being a partizan to his nation ; he appears, on the contrary, to be affe«Sted with a species of madness, somewhat like that of old men, who are always extolling the time past, and bitterly complaining of the present, Voltaire is alwaj^s dis* satisfied with his own country, and lavish in his pmise T t 274 ] of those that are a thousand leagues off. As to religion, he is in that respect evidently undetermined; and he would certainly be the neutral and partial being, so much desired for an author, but for a little leaven of A nti- Jansenism, which appears somewhat too plainly distinguished in his works. Voltaire has much foreign, and much French, literature ; nor is he deficient in that mixed erudition, which is now so much in fashion. He is a politician, a naturalist, a geometrician, or whatever else he pleases ; but he is always superficial, because he is not able to be deep. He could not, how- ever, flourish, as he does upon those subjects, without great ingenuity. His taste is rather delicate than just; he is an ingenious satyrist, a bad critic, and a dabbler in the abstracted sciences. Imagination is his ele- ment; yet, strange as it is, he has no invention. He is reproached with continually passing from one ex- treme to another ; now a philanthropist, then a cynic ; now an excessive encomiast, then an outrageous satyrist. In one word, Voltaire would fain be an extraordinary man, and an extraordinary man he most certainly is." GEORGE LORD LYTTLETON. A singular contrast to Voltaire, in mind, intellect, sen- timent, and general character, is presented in George Lord Lyttleton, '^ the noble author" to whom the irri- able Frenchman addressed the letter immediately follow- ing. Of solid understanding, discriminating judgment, and well-digested erudition, his Lordship possessed qua- lities of the head, which the greatest admirers of his correspondent (if their admiration do not absorb their impartiality) must admit, that their favourite did not possess: and in every estimable quality of the heart, pure benevolence, disinterested affection, steady principles, [ 275 ] and an inflexible devotion to truth, no approach to a parallel with his Lordship can be found in the cha- racter of Voltaire. The literary works, also, of the two authors, are of entirely opposite complexions : in Voltaire, all is splendid tinsel, and false glitter, covering vain sophistry, false reasoning, and perverted sentiment. In the prose compositions of his Lordship, we find elegant, but manly, diction ; sterling sense ; powerful argument; sound logic; and admirable precepts. These excellencies more especially shine forth in his *^ Ob- *^ servations on the Conversion of St. Paul ;" '^ a " treatise, to which" (as Johnson observes) " infidelity *• has never been able to fabricate a specious answer." His Lordship was born A.D. 1709, and died Aug. 22, 1773. He was buried at Hagley ; where the following inscription is cut on the side of the monument erected to the memory of the Lady Lyttleton : •"« This unadorned stone was placed here by the particular '' desire, and express directions, of the «' Right Honourable GEORGE LORD LYTTLETON j " Who died August 22d, 17/3, aged 04." His death was " the death of the righteous ;'* and his " latter end" was characterized by that christian re- signation and serenity, and illuminated by that pious hope and humble confidence, which are the closing blessings afforded to the good on this side the grave. The following letter {apart of which, only. Dr. S. John- son has given in his Life of Lyttleton, and that part incorrectly,) details, in a most interesting and edifying j hianner, the particulars of the last moments of this ex- 'cellent nobleman. It was written by Dr. James John- jStone, his Lordship's friend and physician; a learned, 'enlightened, and amiable medical character, who prac- Itised for many years at Kidderminster and Worcester^ \ T ,2 [ 276 ] with the highest celebrity, success, and honour; and to whom mankind are indebted for the discovery of the use of muriatic acid gas, in correcting or destroying^ Contagion.* To Mrs. Montague. l\Ul)AM, May 26th, 1773. I Had the particular direction from Lord Lyttleton, on his death bed, to write to you the event of his illness ; the course of which his Lordship did not choose to communicate to his other friends. I know my letter will not bring you the earliest account of his death. It is the grief and inexpressible concern I feel for the loss of such a friend, and such a man, (who seemed to me to have an angelic pre- eminence above other mortals,) that prevented my giving the earliest intelligence ; and which now almost incapacitates me from writing: j yet I will execute the intention of my dear, departed friend, as well as I am able. * See a *' Reply to Dr. James Carmichael Smyth, &c. with ^** a further Account of the Discovery of the Power of Mineral •'Acid, in a state of Gas, to destroy Contagion. By John ''Johnstone, M. D. London, Mawman, 1805." Two of the surviving sons of Dr. James Johnstone practise as physicians, •who emulate the skill, and refledt the virtues, of their father,— Edw Johnstone, M. D. of Edgbaston Hall, near Birmingham 5 and John Johnstone, M. D. of Birmingham. [ 277 ] On Sunday morning', the symptoms of his disorder, which, for a week past, had alarmed lis, put on a fatal appearance, and his Lordship believed himself to be a dying man. He ex- pected death with the utmost fortitude and resignation ; and from this time suffered from restlessness, rather than pain ; was sensible nearly to his last moments; and though his nerves were apparently fluttered, his mental faculties never appeared stronger, as Avas evident from many expressions which dropped from him, when he was awake. His Lordship* bilious and hepatic complaint seemed alone not equal to this mournful and fatal event : his long want of sleep, whether the consequepce of irritation in his bowels, or, which is more probable, of causes of a different nature, accounts very sufficiently for his sudden loss of strength; for sleep is indeed of such absolute necessity, that a long want of it must terminate in either death or madness. His death-bed was one of the most interesting scenes I ever was a witness of. He was, as I have observed, perfectly sensible of his ap- proaching dissolution ; and though he wished it not to be lingering, he waited for it with re- signatiom He said, " It is a folly, a joke, to ** keep me in misery, by attempting to prolong " life ;'* and yet he was easily persuaded, for the [ 278 3 satisfaction of others, to do, or take, any thing*, thought proper for him. On Sunday, about eleven o'clock, he sent for me, and said " he felt a great hurry of spirits, and '^wished for a little conversation to divert it.'* Besides many obliging things he said to me in the course of his illness, he now expressed him- self thus : " I have experienced so much kindness * ' from you, and all my friends and attendants, ^' on this occasion, that I think it worth having ^' such an illness, to enjoy such kindness ; if I ^' wish to live, it is to return it, and be more " with you." In this conversation he went on to open the fountain in that heart, from whence goodness had so long flowed, as from a copious spring. ** Doctor," said he, "you shall be my con- ^* fessor. When I first set out in the world, " I had friends, who endeavoured, with all their " might, to shake my belief in the christian re- " ligion. I saw difficulties, which staggered me; " but I kept my mind open to conviction. The " evidences and doctrines of Christianity, stu- ** died with attention, made me a most firm and " persuaded believer of the christian religion * * I have made it the rule of my life, and the " ground of my future hopes. I have erred " and sinned, but have repented, and never in- «* dulged any vicious habit.'* [ 279 1 " In politics, and public life, I made public ** good the rule of my conduct. I never gave ^' counsel which I did not at that time think the ** best. 1 have seen that I was sometimes in the ** wrong, but I did not err designedly. In public ** affairs, great good can often only be done by " risking some evils ; and morality is, in that ** sphere, necessarily in a larger ground, than in " more private affairs. I have endeavoured, in " private life, to do all the good in my power; and ** never for a moment could indulge malicious or ** unjust designs against any person whatsoever." At another time he said, " I must leave my *' soul in the same state it was before this illness; " I find this a very inconvenient time for soli- '* citude about any thing." In the evening, when the symptoms of death came on, he said, *' I shall die — but it will not *' be your fault; write to Mrs. Montague; com- *'fort Mrs. Lyttleton ;" and a hundred times closely grasped the hand that now writes you this information. When Lord and Lady Valentia came, he gave them his solemn benediction, saying, " Be " good, be virtuous ! My Lord, you must come ** to this !" Thus he continued giving his be- nedictions, dying as he was, to all around him. On Monday morning a lucid interval gave somfe small hopes 3 but they vanished in the evening, [ 280 ] and he continued dying, but with very little un- easiness, till Tuesday morning*, when, between 7 and 8 o'clock, he expired almost without a groan. Thus died this amiable and excellent man. His death was one of the triumphs of that re- ligion, of which he had long been an able ad- vocate ; and of which his life was a distinguished and unaffected ornament. I am, Madam, your obedient servant^ X JOHNSTONE. LETTER LXVII. ^rom Mons, Vqjltaiiie to Lord LyxTLETO^fo MY LORD, T HAVE read the ingenious Dialogues of the -■- Dead. J find (page 134) that 1 am an exile, and guilty of some excesses in writing; I am obliged (and perhaps for the honour of my country) to say, that 1 am not an exile, because I have not committed the excesses the author of the Dialogues imputes to me. Nobody [ ?81 ] raised his voice higher thaij ipine in favour of the rights of human kind, yet I have not ex- ceeded in that virtue. I am not settled in Switzerland, as the noble author believes. I live on my own lands in France. Retrpat is becoming to old age 5 and more becoming on one's own possessions. If J enjoy a little country-house near Geneva, my manors and my castles are in Burgundy ; and if my King has been pleased to confirm the privi- leges of my lands, which are free from all tri- butes, I am the more attached to my King. If I were an exile, I had not obtained from my Court ipany a passport for English noblemen. The service I rendered them, entitles me to the justice which I expect from the noble author- As to religion, I think, and I hopie the noble author thinks with me, that God is neither a Presbyterian, nor a Lutheran, nor of the low church, nor of the high church; but God is thp father of all mankind ; the father of the noble author and myself. I am, with respect, his most humble servant, VOLTAIRE, Gentleman of the Chamber to his Majesty. [ 282 ] LETTER LXViri. From Lord Lyttleton to M. Voltaire. SIR, I Have received the honour of youf letter, dated from your Castle of Ferney in Bur- gundy ; by which I find I was guilty of a mistake in calling your retirement an exile. When another edition of my Dialogues shall be made, either in English or in French,; I will take care that the error shall be corrected ; and I am sorry that I •was not apprized of it sooner, that I might have corrected it in the first edition of the French translation of those Dialogues, just published under my inspection, in London. To do you justice, is a duty I owe to truth and myself; and you have a much better title to it, than from the passports you can have procured for English noblemen. You are entitled to it, Sir, by the high sentiments of respect I have for you ; which are not paid to the privileged you tell me your King has conferred upon your lands, but to the noble talents God has given you, and the superior rank you hold in the re- public of letters. The favours done you by your Sovereign are an honour to him, but add little lustre to the name of Voltaire. I entirely agree with you. [ 28a 3 that God is the Father of all mankind ; and I should think it blaspherfty to confine his good- ness to a particular sect; nor do I believe that jany of his creatures are good in his sight, if they do not extend their benevolence to all his creation. These opinions I rejoice to see in some of your works ; and should be very glad to be con« vinced, that the liberty of your thoughts and your pen, upon subjects of philosophy and religion, never exceeded the bounds of that generous principle, which is authorised by revelation, as much as by reason ; and that you disapproved, in your hours of sober reflection, those irregular sallies of fancy, which cannot be justified, though they may be accounted for, by the vivacity and fire of a great genius. I have the honour to be. Sir, Your most humble servant, LYTTLETON. [ «84 ] THE HOUGHTON PICTURES. This noble collection of the best specimens of the different ancient schools, was made by Sir Robert Walpole, and placed in Houghton Hall, the ancient seat of the Walpole family, in Norfolk. In the year 1 767^ the late Lord Orford, then Horace Walpole, printed a partial account of theni, with observations, on their merits, cost, &c. In the year 1 778, they were catalogued, priced, and exposed for sale : and money offered for them by the agent of Catherine 11. Empress of Russia. Mr. Tyson, in a letter to Richard Gough, esq; 10th February 1779, alludes to the fear which generally prevailed among the lovers of the arts, of their being exported into a foreign country; and expresses his pleasure that some English purchaser was likely to prevent such a public loss. " I am delighted," says he^ " with the hopes of some English Duke's purchasing *^ the Houghton pictures: it would have been a burning " shame to have had them gone out of the kingdom.** Nichols's Literary Anecdotes^ vol, viii, p. 639. The ne- gociation, however, with the Era press proceeded ; and two months afterwards, the purchase was announced in the Gentleman's Magazine, in the following manner. "The '* Empress of Russia has purchased the Houghton Col- ** lection of Pictures for Jt 43,000. They were estimated «^ at £40,000 ; but the Empress advanced £3000, for " the liberty of selecting such of them as ar6 most^uited [ 285 } *• to her purpose of establishing a school for paititidg ** in her capital. The rest will probably be disposed of ^* by auction, in England. Such is the fate of this first ** collection in Great-Britain; which, exclui»ive of pre- '*seuts, cost its noble proprietor nearly £100,000 to ** form ; and which ought to have been added to the ** Devonshire and Bedford collections; but it is gone, if ** it survives the hazard of the sea, or the risques of war, *' to assist the slow progress of the arts, in the cold un- " ripening regions of the north." Genl, Mag, May 1779. Mr. Tyson, however, in a letter of the same month, to his friend Gough, retained some feeble hope, that the fatal die of exportation might not be cast. " The bargain," says he, " for the Houghton Collection " is not yet concluded. If the Empress pay the " £40,550, the valuation, she certainly may sell, burn, " or drown, any part, or the whole : and nothing can '• be so far from common sense, as to suppose, that she *' is to pay £3000 more than the valuation, for the " liberty of selling part by auction. Lord Orford will " not care what becomes of them, when he has got the ** rino. Sir Robert Walpole paid only £800 for the ** Guido, which is valued in the appraisement at " £3,500; and so many were presents to him, that it ** is not probable they should cost him so much as ** £30,000, instead of the £ 100,000, the Magazine sets " forth." But the fate of this noble collection was, soon after, determined ; and in the Gentleman's Maga- zine for September and October, in the above-mentioned year, we find the following notices of its transportation to Russia, and its arrival in that country. " The " Houghton collection is not only now certainly sold to *' theEmpressofRussia,but actually shipped. The delay '* was occasioned by the Empress insisting on having " the noble collector's portrait into the bargain \ which [ 286 ] '* being once agreed to, there was hardly time for pack- " ing up the pictures ; and they were sent by waggons " to the port of Lynn the latter end of last month — Sep- '' tember 1779."—" The Houghton Collection of Pic- " tures, we hear, is safely arrived at St. Petersburgh,— *' October 1779." The departure of such a rare assem- blage of the finest models of the pictorial art was considered, at the time, as a public loss, and deplored in most of the publications of the day. Mr. Gough (Mr. Tyson's correspondent) has thus feelingly lamented it in his British Topography. " The lovers of the polite '^ arts will join me in deploring the removal of the *' Houghton Collection, last year, from this country,— *^ for ever ! to a region, whose chiefest praise must be, " that it stretches forth its arms to foster, what the *' swarms that have issued from it, have destroyed, " in their rapid inundations of Europe. Mr. Boydell *' had engraved only six numbers of his design, com- " prehending sixty out of above two hundred pictures; " among which, the prints of those executed by Mr. " Earlom, are most decidedly entitled to the preference. " Some of the principal have not yet been published." As the following letter was written by an amateur of high taste, and great practical skill, it will enable the reader to judge of the merits and excellencies of some of the best pictures in this celebrated collection ; and to appreciate the loss which the arts, in this country^ sustained, when it was removed into a foreign one. [287 ] LETTER LXIX. From **** to ****. MY DEAR FRIEND, York, OcL 3, 1780. TT is with great pleasure that I comply with **• your wishes ; and take up* my pen to trans- mit to you my observations on the Houghton Collection; which I can never hope to see again, and the recollection of which 1 shall be glad thus to fix in my memory. I cannot help mentioning the Prodigal Son, by Salvator Rosa, as the first ; because I found it by far the most interestmg picture in the collection. There is truth, nature, and expres- sion, in it ; the strongest character of distress and contrition in the countenance, and yet an extraordinary eagerness of expectation in the eye, which is earnestly cast up to Heaven, as if expecting some comfort and assistance from thence, in consequence of his repentance. I looked at the picture, till I could almost believe it to be a real person. You know my great partiality for Salvator Rosa's works; there is something great, wild, and sublime in his stile, that is more Pindaric (if I may be allowed the expression) than in that of any other painter. This picture, and the Belisarius, wiiich I saw [ 288 ] aftei^wairds at Lord Townsend's, are the iy^a iiest pieces of bis that I ever beheld. I think 1 should give the preference, upon the whole, to the Belisarius; there is more dignity in the distress, which makes it more affecting. If there be any fault in the Prodigal Son, it is, that he does not look sufficiently like dL gentleman, and, therefore, does not impress, strongly enough, ofi your mind, the recollection of the state from which he is fallen^ and which should have ap^ peared as a strong aggravation of his present distress. Whether it is owing to this, or whether it is not at present the fashion to like Salvator's black stile, this picture is sold (as I apprehend) much too cheap, in comparison of many others in the collection. It was valued only at £700.; whereas a picture, at the upper end of the gallery, of Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar, by Pietro de Cortona, which I should think far inferior, was valued at £1000. Two flower-pieces, by Van Huysum, in the cabinet, at £1000; and a little highly-finished picture, but an odious subject, (David, Bathsheba, and Abishag,) by Vanderwerff, at £700. The Albano, also, over the chimney in the saloon, of Christ baptized by St. John, is valued at £700. They say it is a better picture than any large work that ever was done by Albano; but it is far inferior to Salvator's stile, in that Which affects liie most, arid which I should call the poetical part of the art* Salvator^ like Shakespeare, gives you truths nature, passion^ character^ reality ; while Albano, Carlo Marat,: and his scholars, Pietro de Cortona^ Eustachej lie Senar, and many others, play upon the ieye|: some by pretty attitudes, and some by pretty/ colouring, and penciling, rather than address themselves to the hearty , I will not say that thift is the case with Poussin ; foi* though his attitude^! and its <;pmpanix)n, the Continence of Scipioj at £tJOO. This is a very fine picture too, though I think not so interesting, The Celtiberiaji Captive is beautiful: she is very much covered with a blue drapery, but her attitude is that of the Venus de Medicis. ^>iBut the picture which is estimated at the. highest price, and isthe most universally admired^ is that of th« Doctors of the Church, consulting! about the immaculate conception of the Virgin; Mary. This is valued at £3500. The richness and clearness of the colpurs, tlie elegj^nt figure: [ 29d ] ol^ the Vifg'in, and the little angels, (wh6 are all in the clouds,) and the varied attitudes of the doctors below, deserve the highest encomiums 5 indeed I never saw so fine a picture in all these respects, but the subject is totally uninteresting ; and the expression of doubt, (though that is as well expressed as possible in the various attitudeis and faces of the doctors,) is, perhaps, of all fentittients of the mind, that which gives least plesteHfe to observe. Where something important depends upon the progress of conviction, and where you see the different degrees df it, in different faces, as in Raphaers cartoon of St. Paul preaching at Atbens> it becomes extremely interesting. But, perhaps^the principal reason why you are sa much interested there is, because you actually see the preacher, and see the effect of his discourse upon his audience, in all the different degrees, of contemptuous disbelief, fluctuating doubts^ and aiiimatfed conviction ; whereas in this pic-- ture of Guido's, the Doctors seem all too doubtful, though in different degrees ; and you do not comprehend any reason why they should be Otherwise. I believe Sir Joshua Reynold* has stamped the value upon this picture; for, I am told, that he once offered £3500. I wish be had had it, that it might have remained in the kingdom ; but the Empress was determined t 29t ] to have them all, or none. She has even in- siisted upon having the picture of Sir Robert Walpole himself, (though painted by a very moderate hand,) as a kind of preface or frontis- piece to the collection ; in which, I think, she judges right, and shews more respect to thd memory of that great man, tlian his descendant, who sells them, as he would do so many bales of cloth, with no other consideration, than that he gets £40,000 or £50,000 for them. % There was another Guido, which I admired tery much too. A Holy Fatmily, in an octagon shape, at the upper end of the gallery ; which is painted in a most delicate, elegant, and graceful manner. There is also a Rembrandt, at the same end of the room, of Abraham's Sacrifice. The subject is very striking. Isaac lies bound^ as if ready to have his throat cut by his father's hand, and Abraham covers the youth's face vntfa his hand, as if unable to bear the sight of it. It made my blood run cold ; but I never saw such fine expression as there is in Abraham's face. You see all the agitation of his mind ; and his pale and ghastly countenance gives you fully to conceive what he must have gone through, be- fore he could work himself up to such a horrid resolution. The Angel holds his hand, but Abraham looks still scared, and as if he eould hardly believe that the dreadful sacrifice W3is V 2 [ 292 ] remitted. The effect of light and shade, too, is excessively fine in this piece : I hope you took notice of it. But when I come to speak of effects, it is impossible not to think immediately of that illimitable landscape of Reubens, in the same gallery, of a Cart overturned in a Wood ) the moon appearing through the trees on one side ', in another part the glimmering light of the de» parting day; and the finest rock, with the richest, clearest colouring, up in the middle of the piece, I never saw such a lesson in the art of light and shad€, and effects, as this picture is. I studied it again and again, many times, and wished I could have brought off the memory 6f it, which would have fixed in my mind a fund of instruction and knowledge. The shades are wonderfully clear, and the whole colouring rich and harmonious. Reubens iilways, I believe, painted upon a white ground, and this, in some places, is scarcely covered ; the tints about the rock, especially, are almost transparent. There are other very fine works of Reubens here besides, and though he is not quite my favourite painter in historical subjects, on. account of the coarseness of his women, and the vulgarity that he too often gives to his figures, I must allow these have wonderful merit in the effect. Do you remember the great picture in the saloon, of Mar)r Magdalen [ 293 3 washing: Christ's feet? The Pharisees are fat, vulgar-looking fellows; and even Christ himself, and his disciples, want that dignity of character, (noble in simplicity,) which, a painter of a true taste, and an elevated imagination^ would have endeavoured to have given them.; The figure of the Magdalen is extremely dis-t gusting. But in point of light and shade^, clearness and brilliancy of colour, and judicious disposition of the figures, to form the general effects, nothing can exceed it. This is also a most admirable lesson to form young painters. I wish it were placed in our academy, instead of ))eing in that of the Russian Empress: it is sur- prising what an effect the whiteness of the table-cloth (placed as it is in that picture) has to compose the harmony and force of the whole. Cover the table-cloth, with your hand near your eyes, as you look at the picture, and the effect is gone. So it is with the landscape Uiat I, «poke of before ; there is a little circumstance in it of a man in a red drapery, that holds up the cart, which is placed just in the foreground^ and it is wonderful what an effect that little circum- stance has in warming and tuning the whole; and how (jold and deficient you will immediately perceive it tq be, upon covering this red jacket. Perhaps lam whimsical, ^nd perhaps you will laugh at me, I should like, however, to know I 294 ] ivhat remarks you made upon these two pieces. That of the Magdalene is valued at £ 1 600 ; and so is its companion, the Virgin with the child in her lap, and a number of boy angels, like little cupids, dancing before them. This, if you remem^* )3er, is very much in Reubens' manner, though it is done by Vandyke. The boys are lovely, perfect nature, and more delicate nature than Reubens generally chooses. The principal angel, who addressee himself to the infant Christ, is a charming little animated figure ; his little arms are extended, and you could imagine him singing, "Glory be to God on high," &c. The Virgin is the worst part of the picture; her couiitenfince is heavy and disagreeable : the printed catalogue sayji, by way of apology, that it seems to have been a portrait. Before I leave the pic|;ures in the saloon, I must take notice of St. Francis, with the Infant Jesus in his arms. There is grace, delicacy, taste, and expression ; every thing that cari make a picture perfect. The head of the Saint is much like the head of one of the doctors of the church, in the great picture; and the child, I think, is like that in the Holy Family (octagon shape) that I mentioned before. I am told the design is taken from a statue of a Silenus, with a youi>g Bacchus in his arms, that is at Rome. i [ 1295 ] Wherever the idea comes from, it is chamnngrly executed, : *> ^ aiii . I don't know who the pictures were yalued by. Monsieur Poushkin told me he did not know himself; but that he took them accordinpr to the valuation given by Lord Orford. He told me the prices of most of them, and the rest I got from sonje other gentlemen in that country; bi|t I apprehend they were many of them very ignorantly valued, and I fancy you will think this St. Francis one instance of it. This picture went for £l60; while s^ picture, in a circular shapp, by Cantasini, which hung next to it, and which certainly is a ranch inferior pictur0| though it may be a few inches larger in size, went for £300. And there was a Holy Family in the same room, by Andrea de Obarte, which was valued at £250. It may be a very good picture, for any thing I know ; but the manner is |iard,and the composition crowded; sothatl have no idea how it can be oi superior^ or even of equal value to such a work of Guido's. There was likewise another work of Guido's, that hung in the Carlo Marat room,— a sweet pro61e of a St. Catherine, — that was valued at no more than £20. How I longed to have bought that fo^ myself! The Carlo Marat room gave me but little pleasure, in comparison of the rest of the col- [ 29^ 1 lection ; and I think I remember to have heard you say the same. Among the works of the first and greatest masters, Carlo Marat holds but an inferior place ; and thoug'h many of his compoi mtions are exceedingly pretty y you can seldom call any of them very fine. But when I say this, I must except the portrait of Clement IX. which hangs over the chimney in that room, and which seems to me to be the finest , portrait that ever was painted by the hand of any master whatever. I looked at it, till I thought I grew acquainted with the man. It is vastly unlike any other picture that I ever saw by Carlo Marat. » •; 'There are but two performances by Raphael in this collection. One is a small picture of the J^ast Supper, but it is not in Raphael's best manner ; the figures seem rather too short, and with large heads; and there is something formal in the manner of disposing of them ; particularly in th^CHRiST, who looks straight forward with a full face, and, I thjnk, no great degree of expression; however, there is a very fine ex- pression and character in some of the other heads. The other work of Raphael's is only a head, cut put pf some cartoon. I am told, that it is supposed tp be put out of some cartoon (that is now lost) of the Resurrection ; but of which there is some print, or drawing, or description extant; and that this head is pn^ of the guards,, who iQpks ug [ 297 ] in terror, upon seeing' Christ rise out of the tomb. The expression of the features answers well to this iacGount; and it is an exceedingly fine, spirited sketch. I will not add to the length of this, already long, letter, otherwise than to assure you of the sincere and affectionate regard of your's faith- fully, LETTER LXX. From Dr. Glass io ****. DEAR ****, THIS, perhaps, is the last opportunity which I shall ever have of addressing myself to you. You are going into a far country; it can- not be long ** before I go hence, and be seen no '^ more.'' Remember always,'* my young friend, that the sort of life in which you are now en- gaging is your own choice ; and if it should prove less commodious and agreeable than you expected when that choice was made, you will have no one to blame. You never could suppose that a seaman's hammock was a bed of down, or that a conflict with winds and waves was a game at play. But, thanks be to God, you have been taught how to conduct yourself in [ 298 ] every situation of life : the great matter now will be, to practise what you know to be your duty; you know whither to direct your prayers, your trust and confidence, in the midst of dangers. It is true that you will be often out of the reach of spiritual ordinances; you must make up for the want of them by private acts of piety and religious meditation. This letter will be accom« panied by a Bible and Prayer-book ; and by another book, not yet published, which I hope will be found to contain the whole duty of man. Never let a sabbath-day pass unregarded, where^ ever you are; nor ever suffer yourself to be laughed out of it. Keep stedfast in yqur duty to God, and that will keep yqu faithful and trust-worthy in your duty to your employers. Do every thing required of you with cheerfuU ness, with diligence, and good^natqre. Jn a moment of danger exert yourself with spirit, looking up to God, who knoweth us all to be set in the midst of dangers, and is able to help and deliver us, as seemeth best to his iniinite wisdom. Remember, G — , that the only re* medy that you can apply to the almost broken heart of your poor mother will be, the intelli* gence that you are going on well in your new situation, keeping innocence, and always taking heed to the thing that is right ; securing the friendship of those, who, if you conduct yourself [ 299 ] well; will always be ready to serve you, and doing" credit to the recommendation of your faithful friend and well-wisher, LETTER LXXr. From ^^e /2ey. Wm. Jones, of Nayland, to^^% V MY DEAR FllIEND, THOUGH I am in a very low and sorrowful state, from the pressure of a trouble- some memory upon a broken lieart, I am not insensible to the expressions of your kind con- solatory letter, for which I heartily thank you, and pray that the effect of it may continue with me. The prospect which has been before me for several weeks past, has kept my mind (too weak and soft on all tender occasions) under continual, and, as I feared, insupportable agita- tion, till, after a painful struggle, no relief could be found, but by bowing my head with silent submission to the will of God; which came to pass, but a few days before the fatal stroke. I have found it pleasant, in times past, to do the work of God, to demonstrate his wisdom, and to defend his truth, to the hazard of my quiet and reputation. But oh! my dear friend, I never knew till now what it was to suffer the [ 300 ] will of Gob; although my life has not been very free from great trials and troubles. Neither was I sensible of Adam's transgression, till it took effect upon the life of my blessed compa- Jiion, of whom neither I nor the world was worthy. If I could judge of this case as an indifferent person, I should see great reason to give th^inks and glory to God fur his mercies. We had every preparatory comfort, and death at last came in such a form as to seem disarmed of his sting. A Christian Clergyman, of this neighbourhood, administered the Communion to her, in her bedchamber, while she was well enough to kneel beside him ; and he declared to me afterwards, that he was charmed and edified by the sight : for that the peace of heaven was visible in her countenance ; I saw the larae, and J would have given my life, if that look could have been taken and preserved j it would have been a sermon to the rest of the world. On the last evening she sat with me in the par- Jour, where I am now writing, and I read the lessons of the day to her, as usual, in which was this remarkable passage, " And the time drew ** nigh that Israel must die.'* Of this I felt the .effect, but made no remarks. On her last morning, we expected her below stairs; but at eleven o'clock, as I was going out to church, to jom with the congregation in prayer for her, an t 301 ] iilarming" drowsiness had seized upon her, and she seemed as a person literally falling asleep ; till, at the point of noon, it appeared that she was ^one ; but the article of her dying: could not be distinguished, it was more like a translation. I have reason to remember, with g-reat thank- fulness, that her life was preserved a year long-er than I expected ; in consequence of which, I had the blessing" of her attendance to help and com- fort me, under a tedious illnessof the last summer, under which I sliould probably have sunk, if she had been taken from me sooner. It so pleased God, that when she grew worse, I became better^ and able to attend her with all the zeal the ten- derest affection could inspire. But how different were our services ! She, though with the weak- ness of a woman, and in her seventy -fifth year, had the fortitude of a man, 1 mean a Christian; and all her conversation tended to lessen the «vils of life, while it inspired hope and patience under them. The support which she adminis- tered was of such a sort, as might have been expected from an angel ; while I, when my time came, was too much overwhelmed with the affliction of a weak mortal. My loss compre- hends every thing that was most valuable to me upon earth. I have lost the manager, whose vigilant attention to my worldly affairs, and €xact method in ordering my family, preserved [ 302 ] Hiy mind at liberty to pursue my studies, without loss of time, or distraction of thought. I have- lost my almoner, who knew and understood the wants of the poor better than I did, and was al- ways ready to supply them to the best of our ability. I have lost my counsellor, who generally knew what was best to be done in difficult cases, and to whom I always found it of some advan- tage to submit my compositions; and whose mindy being little disturbed with passions, was always inclined to peaceable and christian mea- sures. I have lost my example, who always olr- served a strict method of daily devotion, from which nothing could divert her; whose patience, imder every kind of trial, seemed invincible. She was blest with the rare gift of an equal, cheerful temper, and preserved it uder a long course of ill health, I may say, for forty years „ To have reached her age, would have been to her impossible, without that quiet humble spirit, which never admitted of murmuring or complain- ing, either in herself or others ; and patient, quiet sufferers, were the favourite objects of her private charities. It might be of use to some good Christian to know, that she had formed her mind after the rules of the excellent Bishop Taylor, in his * Holy Living and Dying/ an author, of whom she was a great admirer, in common with her [ 303 ] llear friend Bishop Home. I have lost my companion, whose conversation was sufficient of itself^ if the world was absent; to the surprise of some of my neighbours, who remarked how much of our time we spent in solitude, and wondered what we could find to converse about. But her mind was so well furnished, and her objects so %vell selected, that there were few great subjects in which we had not a common interest. 1 have lost my best friend, who, regardless of herself, studied my ease and advantage in every thing. These things may be small to others, but they are great to me ; and though they arc gone as a vision of the night, the memory of them will always be upon my mind, during the remainder of my journey, which I must now travel alone* Nevertheless, if the word of God be my com- panion, and his Holy Spirit my guide, 1 need not be solitary, till I shall once more meet my departed saint, never more to be separated; which God grant in his good time, according to his word and promise in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. From your faithful and affectionate friend, WM. JONES. FINIS. Printed by Richard Crutt we 11, St. JamesVSireet, Bath. speedily will he puhlished^ bjj the same Editor^ ' In Two Vols. Duodecimo, Price 14s. in Board*, Ctterarp Crito; C3» sisTiNc oi- ORIGINAL LETTERS PROM If OLIVER CROMWELL, GENERAL FAIRFAX, GENERAL MONK, COUNT ALGAROTTI^ FRANCIS GROSE, E3Q; REV. SAMUEL PEGGE, &c. &c.; iBiograjyJncal Sketches^ Original Anecdotes, Re^ fleclions on Aulliors, Poetical Effusions, S^c. Cptetolarp Cutiosittes; SERIES THE FIRST: CONSISTING OF UNPUBLISHED LETTERS, Of tbe Soventeenth Century, Illustrative of the HERBERT Family, And of the Reigns of JAMES I. CHARLES L CHARLES 11. JAMES II. and WILLIAM IIL FROM GEORGE HERBERT, V ELIZABETH QUEEN OF BOHEMIA, EDWARD LORD HERBERT OF CHERBURY, Sir HENRY HERBERT, Knight, Master of the Revels, PRINCE RUPERT, PRINCE MAURICE, GENERAL FAIRFAX, OLIVER CROMWELL, JOHN SELDEN, GENERAL MONK, ARTHUR HERBERT, LORD TORRINGTON, LORD GODOLPHIN, DUKE of SHREWSBURY, With Notes, and an Appendix. EDITED BY REBECCA WARNER, OF BEECH COTTAGE, BATH. PRINTED BY RICHARD CRUTTWELL, ST. JAMES'S-STREET, BATH; AND SOLD BY LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWNj PATER-NOSTER-ROW, LONDON. 1818. CONTENTS. I. From George Herbert to Mr. Herbert . i ....... . 1 II. From the same to Sir Henry Herbert 6 III. From the same to the same 7 IV. From the same, to the same 8 V. From Dr. Donne to Sir Robert Carr 11 VI. From the Queen of Bohemia to Sir Edw. Herbert 13 VII. From Sir Ralph Clare to Sir Henry Herbert ...... 15 VIII. From Sir Henry Jones to the same 17 IX. From Sir Henry Herbert to *** 20 X. From Lord Scudamor« to Sir Henry Herbert .... 27 XI. From Mary Herbert to the same . ; 28 XII. From Edward Lord Herbert to the same 30 XIII. From the same to the same 31 XIV. From the same to the ^dme 31 XV. From Prince Rupert to all Commanders, &c. .... 32 XVI. From Lord Astiey to the Bailiff of Bewdley 34 XVII. From Prince Maurice to the sam^e 35 XVIII. From Gen. Fairfax to Capt. Edmund Steele .... 37 XIX. From the same to the same 38 XX. From the same to Robert Scawen, esq ; . . . 39 XXI. From Jchn Selden to Sir Hemy Herbert 39 XXII. From Edward Herbert to the same 40 XXIII. From Lady Vere Every to the same 42' XXIV. From Sir H. Every to the same 44 XXV. From Lady Vere Every to the same 45 XXVI. From Sir Henry Herbert to Lady Vere Every . . 46 XXVII. From Edward Herbert to Sir Henry Herbert . . 47 XXVIII. From the same to the sair^e 48 XXIX. From the same to the same 49 XXX. From the same to the same 50 XXXI. From Oliver Cromwell to Serjeant Wylde 51 XXXII. From Gen. Monck to Lord Broghill 63 XXXIII. From Lady Herbert to Sir Henry Herbert 56 XXXIV. From Sir H. Herbert to Mr. Alderman § 57 C iv ] XXXV. From the Mayor of Maidstone to Sir H. Herbert 5& XXXVI. From Sir H. Herbert to the Mayor of Maidstone 61 XXXVII. From T. Herbert to Sir H. Herbert 63 XXXVIII. From Lord Herbert to the same 66 XXXIX. From the Bishop of Hereford to the same 68 XL. From Lady Elizabeth Herbert to the same ; . 69 XLI. From Henry Herbert to the same 71 XLII. From Henry Herbert to the same 72 XLIII. From Lord Herbert to the same 73 XLIV. From Sir H. Herbert tojthe Earl of Manchester 74 XLV. From Henry Herbert to Lady Eliz. Herbert ^. 7^ XLVI. From the same to the same 76 XLVII. From Abraham Campion to Sir H. Herbert. . 77 XLVIII. From Edward Lord Herbert to the same 78 XLIX. From Capt. Herbert to the same 79 L. From Edward Lord Herbert to the same .... 81 LI. From the same to the same 82 LII. From the same to the same 83 LIII. From the same to the same 85 LIV. From tbe same to the same 87 LV. From the same to the same 88 LVI. From the same to the same 89 LVII. From the same to the same 89 LVIII. From Capt. Herbert to the same 91 IJX. From the same to the same 92 LX. From T. Offley to the same 93 LXI. From Rev. John Boraston to H. Herbert, esq. 93 LXII. From Lord Newport to the same 98 LXIIL From H. Herbert, esq; to Right Hon. Sir Edward Turner 100 LXIV. From Charles Cornwallis to H. Herbert, esq. lOi LXV. From Henry Herbert to Chas. Cornwallis 102 LXVI. From Sir F. Winnington to H. Herbert, esq. 103 LXVII. From Monsieur de la Place to the same 104i LXVIII. From the same to the same 105 LXIX. From the same to the same 107 LXX. From the same to the same Il2 LXXI. From the same to the same 113 LXXII. From the same to the same 117 LXXIII. From the same to the same 121 LXXIV. From Lady E. Lyttleton to H. Herbert, esq. , . 122 C V 1 LXJCV. From v.... to H.Herbert t24 LXXVI. From Vere Herbert to the same 130 LXXVII. From Miss Offley to the same 131 LXXVIII. From the same to the same 133 LXXIX. From Lady Lyttleton to the same 136 LXXX. From the same to the same 137 LXXXI. From Sir Wm. Boughton to the same . . 138 LXXXII. From H. Herbert to Sir Wm. Broughton .... 139 LXXXni. From Sir Wm.Brovghton to H. Herbert .... 140 LXXXIV. From the same to the same 140 LXXXV. From Hemy Herbert to Sir Wm. Boughtoii . . 141 LXXXVI. From Lord Belamountto H. Herbert 142 LXXXVII. From Lord Goote to the same 142 LXXXVIII. From Mr. Dowdeswell to the same I44 LXXXIX. From Henry Herbert to King William 147 XC. From Godwin Atwood to Henry Herbert .... 148 XCI. From Lord Herbert to the Bailiff of Bewdley 150 XCII. From Lady Inchiquin to Lord Herbert 151 XCIII. From Lord Herbert to Lord Capell ,.. 153 XCIV. From Lord Torrington to Lord Herbert .... 154 XCV. From the same to the same 156^ XCVI. From the same to the same I57 XCVII. From the same to the same 158 XCVIII. From the same to the same I59 XCIX, From the same to the same 160 C. From the same to the same 160 CI. From the same to the same 161 ClI. From the same to the same 163 CHI. From the same to the same 162 CIV. From Dr. Thomas Knipe to the same . . ... . . 163 CV. From Rev. Anthony Lucas to the same 166 CVI. From Mr. J. Talbot to the same 167 CVII. From Lady Every to the same 169 CVIII. From the same to the same , 170 CIX. From Monsieur Boyer to the same 171 ex. From Lord Godolphin to the same 172 CXI. From Lord Herbert to Lord Godolphin 174 CXII. From Duke of Shrewsbury to Lord Herbert .. 175 CXIII. From the same to the same 176 CXIV. From the same to the same 177 Appendix . , , , 179 CORRECTIONS AND ADDITIONS. P. 23. Note. After " unknown," add, The writer of this letter was Mary, daughter to John Egerton earl of Bridgewater, and wife of Richard Herbert, son and heir of Edward, first Lord Herbert of Cherbury. They had issue four sons and four daughters. Edward succeeded his father in his title and estate, in 1G55 ; and be was succeeded in the same by his brother Henry Herbert in 1G78, a captain in the army, who died 1091, without i-sue, wheieby the title became extinct, till it was renewed in Henry Herbert, the son of Sir Henry Herbert, knight, and master of the Revels. 42. Note. For " Sir Henry Vere," read " Sir Heary Every." 50. Note. For " Y«^idow,'" read " first wife." Ed wavd Herbert married a second wife, Elizabeth, one of the daughters and coheirs of George Lord Cbandos, who suivived him : but he left no issue. 58. Add to the Note. The whole of Sir Henry's estate htd been seques- trated, but he was ailovv^ed to componnd for £1330. — Catalogue of Compounders, letter H. 66. Note. For " in whom," read," in whose brofher Henry, &c ;" and add, on the death of Lord Edward, without issue, in 1G78, his brother Henry succeeded to his title and estate. In 1672, beipg a captain of a troop of horse in Sir Henry Jones's regiment, he went over with them from UTidec the command of the Duke of Monmouth, to the assistance of the French King ; and was afterv^aids captain in the Duke of York's troop of horse. In 1078, he resigned his irJIitary emplojMents ; and was made Custos Rotalorum of Montgomeryshire in 1679. He went heartily into the Revolution ; and en the accession of William and Mary, v/as made coffner to the household. He died, without issue, the 21st April, 1091. — Coll. Peerage, Supp. vol. i. p. 269. 69. First Note. Add, she was d.-ughter of Sir Robert Offley, of D'alby^ m the county of Leicester, knight. TO THE READER. THERE are few persons, of minds at all turned to the humbler branches of lite- rature, of leisure time, and solitary habits, who have not, in the course of years, collected a stock, more or less in quantity and vaiue^ of orio'inal, curious, or interesting compositions. Collections of this description will of course become more extensive as time roils on, since the taste for such accumulations, ^' As if increase of appetite did grow " By what it fed on," is only sharpened by every fresh acquisition ; while the mass will be continually added to, by that liberal spirit of communication (by no means uncommon in our age and country), which pleases itself in contributing' to the enlargement of such literary stores. To such liberal and friendly communication, the Editor is, in g-reat measure, indebted for the contents of the folr lowing- pages ; and, were she at liberty to point out the particular soorces from whence her materials are drawn ; or, to acknowledge the assistance she has been favoured with, in the slight notes which accompany the letters ; she should feel J^ss hesitation iii' presenting" her volume to the public, and less doubt as to its favourable reception. She is, however, still willing to hope, that the connection which the letters will be found to have with the earlier history of a great and interesting family ; and the light they throw on the manners, events, and politics of the period to which they relate ; may of themselves prove passports to accept- ance and favour. By the younger females of this polished and enlightened age, in which the labours of the tapestry frame and the spinning-wheel have been exchanged for mental improvement, and orna- mental acquirements, it will perhaps scarcely be credited, that their countrywomen, of the seventeenth century, ladies of family and fashion? should have been so grossly ignorant of their native language, and the most simple and fami- liar rules of grammar, as will appear to have been the case from some of the following letters. They are, however, one and all, without any exception, given verbally and literally from the origmals, which are now in the hands of THE EDITOR. LETTER L Prom George Herbert* ^(? 3Ir, H* FlEiiBERT.t 1618. rglHE disease which I am troubled with noW -^ is the shortness of time, for it hath beea my fortmie of late to have such sudden warning-^ that I have not leazure to impart unto you some of those observations which t have framed to myself in conversation; and whereof I would *The amiable character of George Herbert hath been beau- tifully delineated by that agreeable biographer, Isaac Walton, in his life of this excellent man. In his epistle to the reader, he pro- fesses, that this piece of Biography was so far a free-will offering, "' that it was written chiefly to please himself;" and it is conse- quently characterised by all that feeling, as well as simplicity, which an author diffuses over his subject, when it is peculiarly agreeable to him. Of this life, two gcod editions have been pub- lished within these few years ; one by Dr. Wordsworth, in his Ecclesiastical Biography, 1810; and another in Dr. Zouch's ^' Walton's Lives," with valuable notes, 3d edition, 1817. In summing up Mr. Herbert's character, Walton's words are, " thus " he lived, and thus he died, like a saint, unspotted of the world, ** full of alms-deed, full of humility, and all the examples of a " virtuous life ;" and, indeed, his life exhibits such a lovely picture of practical piety, extensive charity, and pure philan- throphy, as gives George Herbert, a just claim to the title of one " of the excellent ones of the earth/^ and of " them who excel C 2 ] not have you ignorant, ' As I shal find occasion, you shal receive them by peeces ; and if there by any such whieh you have found ^' in righteousness." The influence of such christian virtue is well exemplified, in the impression it made on the mind of his brother ^ the celebrated Edward Lord Cherbury, who, deist as he was, could not avoid seeing, acknowledging, and paying a tribute to it, '' His life," says his Lordship, speaking of his brother George, ** was most holy and exemplary, insomuch, that about Salisbury, ** where he lived beneficed for many years, he was little less than " sainted." Lord Cherbury 's life, edited by H. Walpole, 1 778. — • Early in life his views seem to have been those of courtly honour and political importance ; but having relinquished them, jjartly from disappointment, and partly from having formed a proper estimate of their fallacy and worthlessness, he took orders, be- came prebendary of Lincoln, and rector of Bemerton. near Sa- lisbury.- He died between 1639 and 1640. His poems were published in London, 1635, under the title of " The Temple ;" and Ms " Priest to the Temple," in 1652. Lord Bacon dedicated to him a translation of some Psalms into English verse. Gen. Diction. Life of Lord Cherbury, ut supra, p. 12. See also Nichols's Literary Anecdotes, vol. i. p. 518. He was born A.D, J593, on the 3d of April. t Henry Herbert was the sixth son of Richard Herbert, esq; and Magdalen Newport, daughter of Sir Richard Newpo t, and born A.D, 1680. His brother. Lord Herbert of Cherbury, in his curious history of his own life, has made the following men- tion of Henry. " Henry, after he had been brought up in *' learning, as the other brothers were, was sent by his friends " into France, where he attained the language of that country in "perfection, after which he came to Court, and was made Gen- " tlemanofthe King's Privy Chamber, and Master of the Revells; " by which means, as also by a good marriage, he attained to|great *' fortunes, for himself and his posterity to enjoy. He also hath " criven several proofs of his courage in duelis, and otherwise, " being no less dextrous in the waj' s of the Court, as having gotten ^' much by it.'' P. 13. The following particulars from MSS. in the editor's hands, will throv/ some light on the circumstances of 3irH. Herbert's life; and the history of his progeny. [ 3 ] tiseful to yourself^ communicate them to me. You live in a brave nation, where, except you wink, you caimot but see many brave examples. " Itt pleased tlie Kin^, att my Lord Chamberline's motion, to *' sende for mee unto his chamber, by James Palmer, and to " knigfcte mee, with my Lord Marquis Hamilton's sworde. He " was pleased likewise to bestowe many good wordes upon mee, " and to receive mee as Master of the Revells. At Wilton, this " 7th August, 1623." " I sente the certificate of my knitehood, under my Lord Cham- " berline's hande, to the Earl Marshall, whereupon he certified to " the office of the Harolds, and ^twas entered in their booke the " 14th of August, 1623. The Harolds had no fee, but the Lord " Marshal's Secretarys 10s. " Sir Thomas Morgan, my Lord Chamberline^s steward, was " knited within an hour after mee, att the same house at Wilton, " and payde the same fee. " I was sworen King James his servant, by Sir George Keene, *' in ordinary gentleman of his privy chamber, the 20th March, " 1621, atWliitehall." ^' My son William Herbert, was borne on Monday the 1st of " May, in the yeare of our Lord 1626. " His godfathers and godmother : " William Earle of Pembroke, Lord Steward of his Majesty^s " household. " Philip Earle of Montgomery, Lord Chamberline of his Majesty^s " household. " The Lady Danvers, my mother, and his grandmother. " On Mayday, 1642, William Herbert is sixteene yeares olde. " My daughter Vere Herbert was born on Wendsday, being '* the 29th August, in the yeare of our Lord 1627. " Her godmothers and godfather : " The Countess ofBarkshyre, Dovager, a Vere by name, and syster " to the Earle of Oxford and to the Countess of Montgomery. " The Countess of Carnarvon, sole daughter to the Earle of *' Montgomery . " Sir Ilemy M Idmay, master of the King's Jewel-house. " On the 29th Aug. in 1642, Vere Herbert is fifteene years olde, '- ■ B 2 [ 4 ] Bee covetous, then, of all good which you see in Frenchmen, whether it be in knowledge, or in fashion, or in words ; for I would have you, even *' My daughter, Frances Herbert, was borne on a Munday, the *' 29th December, 1628. " Her godfather and godmothers: " The Lady Frances Stanley^ Countess of Bridgwater. " Mrs. Coventry, wife to my Lord Coventry that now is. " The Lord Gray, Earle of Stanford. " On the 29th December 1642, Frances Herbert is fourteen© '^^ years olde. " They were all borne at Woodford, and christened at Wood- " fordj by Mr. Isaacson, now Dr. Isaacson, parson of Woodford. " This certificate of their severall ages was taken out of my " booke of entrys the 24th December, 1641, by Henry Herbert^ '' at Woodford." *** On Monday the 24th July 1654, it pleased the Lord to deil- "^^ Ver my wife safe of a son, between sixe and seaven of the ** clocke in the eveninge, by the hande of Mrs. Sumner, the ^^ mydwife. " My sister the Lady Browne was preiSent, Mrs. Reaves the " drye nurse, Mrs. Browne, and Sarah Cogland and Atm Knap, '' servants. *f At my brother ETClyn's house in Kinge's-sti'eet, inCoveht- " Garden. ** Praysedbe God for all his mercies in Christ Jesus'; his " excesse of mercies in our Jesus, for his mercies endure for ever. ''On Thursday the 12th July, 1655, it pleased the Lord to ^' deliver my wife safe of a daughter, about three in the after- *' noone, by the hande of Mrs. Sumner, the mydwife. At my ^* brother Evelyn's house in King's-street, in Covent-Garden. *' Mrs. lleeves and Mrs. Matson were present, and servants ; " the drye nurse came not, till my wife was delivered. " Praysedbe the Lord for his mercies, for they endure for ever. *' She was christened on Friday in the afternoon, about fourc ^ of the clocke, being the 26th of July, 1655, at my brother [51 in speeches, to observe so much, as when you meet with a witty French speech, try to speak the like in English: so shall you play a good marchant, by transporting French commodities to your own country. Let there be no kind of excellency which it is possible for you to attain to, which yon seek not ; and have a good con- ceit of your wit, mark what I say, have a good conceit of your wnt; that is, be proud, not with a foolish vanting of yourself when there is no caus, but by setting a just price of your qua- lities : and it is the part of a poor spirit to under- value himself and blush. But I am out of my time : when I have more time, you shall hear' " Evelyn's house in King^s-street, in Covent-Garden, and named *' Magdalen, my mother's christian name. " Her godmothers, the Lady Jones, widowe of Sir Henry *' Jones, baronet, deceased, my late nephewe,the son of my eldest *^ sister. My neece, Magdalen Vaughan. " My brother, Gabriel Offley, her godfather, youngest brother ^* of my wife.'' f' Here lys the bodys of Mary Herbert, who dyd Aug. 61% *^ 1666; and of Richard, who dyd March 10th, 1(569; and of Sir " Henry Herbert, father of Mary and Riehard, by Dame Elizabeth, " his wife ; Master of the Reveles, and of the Privy Chamber, to *' King James the 1st, King Charles the 1st, and King Charles the « 2d. He died Aprill 27, 1673. " Here lys Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Henry Herbert and Dame '* Elizabeth his wife, who married Charles Hore, of Cagford, in the " county of Devon, esq; Aug. 27th, 1694 ; and dyd in childbed •' July the 30th, 1695. " Here also lyes Dame Elisabeth Herbert, widow of the said *' Sir Henry Herbert. She dyed July 7th, 1698. " Vita quid est Iwminum nisi spes incerta metusque, " Hcec inter dubii vivimus et Tnorimw, [ 6 ] more; and write you freely to mee in your letters, for I am your ever loving brother, G. HERBERT. P. S. My brother is somewhat of the same temper, and perhaps a little more mild, but you will hardly perceive it.* To my dear brother, Mr. Henry Herbert, at Paris. LETTER II. From the same to Sir Henry HERBERT,t PEAR BRO; IT is so long since I heard from you, that I long to heare both how you and your'sdoe: and also what becomes of you this sommer. It is the whole amount of this letter, and therefore entertaine it accordingly from ^^^ Your very affectionate bro ; If June, Bemerton, G. HERBERT. My wife's and neeces' service to you. * This alludes, probably, to Lord Edward Herbert's warmth of temper ; for he tells us himself, in his own romantic life ; that ** passion and choler were infirmities to which all his race were "subject.'^ P. 13. The remarkable events of his life illustrate the truth of this honest confession ; for they were such as realized all the adventures of fictitious knight-errantry. f This letter must have been written after the year 1630, since Mr. G. Herbert was inducted into Bemerton, from whence he dates it, on the 26th April, in that year. — Walton's Life to George Herbert J p. 72. Zouch's edition. m [ 7 ] i LETTER HI. From the same to the same. DEAR BRO; I Was glad of your Cambridge iiewes, but you joyed me exceedingly with your rela- tion of my Lady Diicliess's forwardnes in our church building. J ^ am glad I used you in it, and you have no cause to be sorry, since it is God's business. If there fall out yet any rubb, you shall heare of me; and your offering of yourself to move my Lords of Manchester and Bool ling- brook is very welcome to mee. To shew a for- wardness in religious works is a good testimony of a good spirit. The Lord bless yon, and make you abound in every good worke, to the joy of your ever loving brother, March 21, Bemerton. G. HERBERT. To my deere brother, Sir Henry Herbert, at Court. X Mr. Herbert, wMe a deacon, had been presented, in 1626, to ihe prebend of Longton-Ecclesia, in tlie diocese of Lincoln, the church of which place he found in so a ruinous state, as rendered it unfit for public service. " By his own, and the contribution of " many of his kindred, and other noble friends, he undertook the ** re-edification of it." Life, 54. , When he succeeded to Bemer- ton, he found this church also, as well as the parsonage-house, dilapidated ; and proceeded, in the same conscientious manner, to put both into compleat repair. It is to thi§ pious work, that he probably alludes in the above letter. [ 8 ] LETTER IV. From the same to the same,* 3DEAR BRO j THAT you did not only entertain my proposals, but advance them, was lovingly done, and like a good brother. Yet truly it was none of iny meaning, when I wrote, to putt one of our neeces into your hands but barely what I "Wrote I meant, and no more; and am glad that although you offer more, yet you will doe, as you write, that alsoe. I was desirous to putt a good mind into the way of charity, and that was all I intended. For concerning your offer of receiv- ing one, I will tell you what I wrote to our eldest brother, when he urged one upon me, and but one, and that at my choice. I wrote to him that I would have both or neither; and that upon this ground, because they were to come into an unknown country, tender in knowledge, * The above letter is a master-piece of artful composition, ex- ercised in a most praise-worthy cause. The feeling manner in which the wiiter touches on the cruelty of separating the young people ; the interesting way in which he introduces the third un- friended and solitary niece ; the delicate mode in which he unfolds his secret wish that his brother should take this young person under his protection ; and the indirect method in which lie enforces it as a duty upon him so to do, are strong proofs of George Herbert's feeling, discretion, and deep knowledge of the iiuman heart. I C 9 ] sense, and a^e, and knew none but one who could be no company to them. Therefore I considered that if one only came, the comfort intended would prove a discomfort. Since that I have seen the fruit of my observation, for they have lived so lovingly, lying', eating, walking, praying, working, still together, that I take a comfort therein; and would not have to part them yet, till I take some opportunity to let them know your love, for which both they shall, and I doe, thank you. It is true there is a third sister, whom to receive were the greatest charitie of all, for she is youngest, and least looked unto; having none to doe it but her school-mistresse, and you know what those mercenary creatures are. Neither hath she any to repair unto at good times, as Christmas, &c. which, you know, is the encouragement of learning all the year after, except my cousin Bett take pitty of her, which yet at that distance is some difficulty. If you could think of taking her, as once you did, surely it w^ere a great good deed, and I would have her conveyed to you. But I judge you not: doe that which God shall put into your hart, and the Lord bless all your purposes to his glory. Yet, truly if you take her not, I am thinking to do it, even beyond my strengthe ; . especially at this time, being more beggarly now than I have been these many years, as having spent two hundred pounds in building; which to me that have nothing yett, is very much. [ 10 ] But though I both consider this, and your ob- servation, also, of the. unthankful ness of kindred bredd up, (which generally is very true,) yet I care not ; I forgett all thinges, so I may doe them good who want it. So I doe my part to them, lett them think of me what they will or can. I have another judge, to whom I stand or falL Yf I should regard such things, it were in another's power to defeat my charity, and evill shold be stronger then good : but difficultie are so farr from cooling christians, that they whett them. Truly it grieves me to think of the child, how destitute she is, and that in this necessary time of education. For the time of breeding is the time of doing children good j and not as many who think they have clone fairly, if they leave them a good portion after their decease. But take this rnle, and it is an outlandish one, which I commend to you as being now a father, " the best-bredd child hath " the best portion." Well; the good God bless you more and more; and all yours ; and make your family, ahousefull of God's servants. So prayes Your ever loving brother, G. HERBERT. My wife's and neeces' service. To my very dear brother Sir Henry Herbert^at Court, [ 11 ] LETTER V. From Dr Jonisr Donne* to Sir Robert Carr.§ SIR, I Presume you rather try what you can doe, in mee, than what I can cloe in verse, yon knowe my uttermost when it was at best, and * The only letter (as the editor believes) in the present collec- tion, which has already been before the public, is this from Dr, Donne, which was printed in a volume, entitled " Poems by *' John Donne, Savoy, 1669." It is introduced into this series for several reasons. 1st, Because the transcript is made from the original letter, and signed by the Doctor, with an orthography of his name different from the usual one, Dunn, instead of Ponne. 2dly, Because it is not accompanied in the edition of his works, above referred to, with any illustration. And, 3dly, because an endorsement on it, in the handwriting of Sir Henry Herbert, seems to throw some light on a passage in Walton's Life of Dr. Donne, which is not explained by the biographer. This pious man, and powerful preacher, was born, according to Walton, in the year 1573. He entered, later than usual m life, into holy orders, by the persuasion of James 1st, who often ex- pressed great satisfaction of his having been the means of intro- ducing so worthy a person into the church. We hear much of him as a poet, but little as a divine, though in the latter character he had great merit. His " Pseudo-Martyr," in which he effec- tually confuted the doctrine of the papal supremacy, is the most valuable of his prose writings. His Sermons abound too much with the pedantry of the time in which they were written^to be at all esteemed in the present age. Some time before his death, when he was emaciated with study and sickness, lie caused himself to be wrapped in a sheet, w hich was gathered over his head in the manner of a shroud ; and having closed his eyes, he had his portrait taken, which was kept by liis bed-side as long as he lived, to remind him of mortality. The effigy on his moiiu- ment in St, Paul's Church was done after this portrait. He C 12 ] even then I did best, when I had least truth for my subject. In this present case there is soe much truth, as it defeats all poetry. Call, therefore, this paper by what name you will ; and if it be not worthy of him, nor of you, nor of mee, smother it, and bee that the sacrifice. If you had comaunded mee to have waited on his body to Scotland, and preached there, I should have embraced the obligacon with more alacrity. But I thanke you that you would comaund that which I was loth to doe ; for even that hath given a tincture of merit to the obedience of. Sir, Your poore friende, and servant in Christ, JOHN DUNN. died March 31, 1631. {Granger.) On the back of the letter from whence the above is printed, are the following words, in Sir Henry Herbert's hand, Miserum est ah lis Icsdi, de quibus non possis quceri; which seem to have some connection with a passage in Walton's life of Dr. Donne, to this effect: " He was once and but " once, clouded with the King's displeasure, and it was about this '*time; which was occasioned by some malicious whisperer, " who told his Majesty that Dr. Donne had put on the general '* humour of the pulpits," &g. It is not improbable, therefore, that the Marquis Hamilton, a favourite of King James I. on whose decease the poem alluded to in the letter had been com- posed, was the malicious whisperer referred to by Isaac Walton ; and the person to whom the Latin sentence on the back of Donne's letter was applied by Sir Henry Herbert. The poem occurs in the volume before mentioned, p. 327, beginning thus, " Whether " that soul which now comes up to you," &c. § Sir Robert Carr, afterwards Earl of Ancram, Dr. Donne, at his going into Germany, presented to Sir Robert a copy of his Biathamtos, with a letter which Dr. Zouch has given in ^ aot^.— Donne's Life^ vol, i. p. 134. [ 1.3 LETTER Vr. From the Queen of Bohemia* to Sir ED\r. Herbert. t SIR EDW. HERBERT, I Pray be assured that my bein^ ia childbed hath hindered all this while from thank- "* Elizabeth, eldest daugliter of James I., (married to Frede- rick, the Palsgrave, or Elector Palatine, eldest son of the King of Bohemia,) whom Kirkton, in his " History of the Church of *' Scotland," characterizes as having past " the most unhappy *'■ life of any woman in the world/' The crown of Bohemia being offered by the States to Frederick, in"1619; he, in an evil hotir, accepted it, and thereby plunged himself and family into ruin, and deluged Europe with a sea of blood/^ Speaking of Elizabeth, Mr. Granger says, " This amiable Princess, who only " saw a phantom of royalty, and had nothing more than the empty " title of Queen, bore her misfortunes with decency, and even *' equanimity/' So engaging was her behaviour, that she was, in the Low Countries^ called " the Queen of Hearts." When her " fortunes were at the lowest ebb, she never departed from her " dignity ; and poverty and distress seemed to have no other " effect upon her, but to render her more an object cf admiration *' than she was before," — Vol. L 317. It is a curious circum- stance, that this illustrious couple were married by harms, which were asked in the Chapel Royal. — 'WinwoocVs Memorials, Hi. 431, Sir Edward Herbert was honoured by Elizabeth with her parti- cular esteem and regard. He made two visits to her and the Pa- latine, when they resided at Heydelberg, (as he mentions in his life,) and was received by them both in the most kind and hos- pitable manner ; and a correspondence was maintained between him and the Queen, after she and her husband were driven from their throne, and had sought shelter in Holland. It must have added much to the misfortunes of Elizabeth, that she was de- serted in them by her own father aud, met with no_ sympathy [ 14 ] ing" you for your letter, and no forgetfulness of mine to you, to whome I have ever had obli- from Iier brother, Charles T. — -Need's History of the Puritans, vol. V, 94 — 260. It is also curious, that the only public interest taken in England in her affairs, was by the Long Parliament.— jRushworth, jjart Hi. vol. i. p. 316 — 357. f This singular compound of reason and passion, philosophy and enthusiasm, made a considerable figure, both in the courtly circles and political world, during the reign of James I. The events of his extraordinaij life, as told by himself, convince us that the writers of chivalrous romance took all their representa- tions of character and manners from actual existence. The late Lord Orford, in his " Royal and Noble Authors,^' has given us the following particulars of this celebrated courtier, and dis- tinguished writer. "One of the greatest ornaments of the " learned peerage was a man of martial spirit and a profound *' understanding. He was made Knight of the Bath, when Prince " Henry was installed for the Garter; and being sent embassador " to France, to interpose in behalf of the Protestants in that " kingdom, he returned the insolence of the great constable, *' Luynes, with the spirit of a gentleman, without committing " his dignity of embassador. It occasioned a coolness be- *' tween the Courts, but the blame fell wholly on the Con- " stable. In 1G25, Sir Edward was made a baron of Ireland ; "in 1631, of England; but in the cause of his country sided "with its representatives. He died in 1648; having written ** ' Be Veritate, &c.' a book in which the author asserts the " doctrine of innate ideas, &c. ; another, ' De Religione Gen- " ' tilium, &c. ;' a third, ' Expeditio Buckingharai, &c. ;' a " fourth, (by far the best of his literary productions,) entitled, " * Life and Reign of Henry the Eighth ;' and a fifth, called, " * Occasional Poems.' He is buried at St. Giles's in the Fields, **but had erected an allegoric monument for himself in the " church of Montgomery ; a description of which is given by *' Lloyd. His Lordsliip had been indemnified by the Parliament " for his Castle of Montgomery, which they thought proper to de- " molish.'' — -Vol ii. 213. In Dr. Leiand his Lordship has found an opponent far superior to himself in acuteness, perspicuity, and logical precision j who has completely and satisfactorily [ 15 ] gation for your love, which I will ever ac- knowledge and seeke to requite in what I can; w^hich I entreat you to be confident of, and that these lines may assure you of it from her that is ever your most assured friend, E, ELIZABETH, The HagJh ^^^'^s llh June. LETTER VIL Fi'om Sir Kat.ph Clare* to Sir Henry Herbert, Knight, Sir,— I have returned your owne particular, accompanied with another of Sir Ed w. Blount's,§ answered his deistical objections; and demonstrated, that his celebrated confirmation of the truth of his book, " De Veritate," was a delusion of tlie author's imagination, instead of *' a sign " from heaven." The texture of his Lordship's mind, indeed, and the warmth of his temperament, rendered him peculiarly adapted, to admit such impressions of the fancy, as serious rea- lities. A specimen of the nature of Lord Herbert's theism will be seen in a prayer, composed by him, in the Appendix. * Sir Ralph Clare, Knight of the Bath, of Caldwell, Worcester shire, eldest son and heir of Sir Francis Clare, knight. He waia (as his epitaph in Kidderminster church informs us) servant unto Prince Henry ; made Knight of the Eath at the coronation of Charles I. whom he attended in all his fortunes. He was equally loyal to Charles II.; and died 21st April, 1670, aged 84 years. There is a print of him in Nash's Hist. Worcestershire, V. ii. p. 45. § Sir Edward Blount, baronet, of Kinlet, in the county of 3alop, and lord of the manor of Kidderminster ; who died 13th Nqvember, 1630, aged 76, His Latin epitaph ii^ Kidderminster [ 16 ] ^nd soe iiuicli of his lettre as conceihes yonr busines. By which you will easily discerne the difference of the valiewes^ and his opinion upon the whole matter, and soe may make your barg-aine with the more advantage. His better judg-ement warnes mee not to invite you to a purchase ; otherwise I could fi nde in my hart to tell you, that I should be very glad of soe good a neighbour. But playe the best of your owne game, without considering the standers by ; and yf you can devise how 1 may bee able to doe you further service, in this or in any thing else, I pray you (without ceremony) command your affectionat servant, R. CLARE. St. James's, this 2d March, 1627. Ml/ opinion of Ribsf ord'\'.----Tonch'ing the situ- ation of the house, I consider it to be pleasant for the somer, but not healthful in the winter. Further, the estate, standing a great part of it yn coppice wood, doth not strengthen a lord with any multitude of able tenants. eiiurch describes him as a man of ancient and honourable family* highly endowed with excellent mental and intellectual qualities ; devoid of ambition, and attached to private and domestic life; generous, but prudent; elegant, but economical; respected by his superiors ; adored by his inferiors ; and beloved by all. t Notwithstanding the unfavourable opinion expressed by Sir Edward Blount, respecting the purchase of Ribsford, Sir Henry bought the estate and made it the country residence of his fa- mily. It was an ancient moated house, in the neighbourhood of Bewdley, in the county of Worcester. [ 17 :] The house itself is much in decay. Touching the purchase. I hold that it is not fitt to give for the bare rent of the dimeanes, so much by two yeares purchase, as for so much land in yerely valew. I hold further, a reversion after three lives not to exede four yeres purchase ; after two lives, seven yeares purchase ; after one lief, nine yeares purchase. I have credably heard, that old Sir John Lewson, of Kent, did hold, that he that had an estate for three lives in possessiorj, had as equal in value as three partes of the inheritance de- vided into four partes. About fourteen yeares purchase £3500 for the demesnes. To my much honoured, good friend, Sir H. Herbert, these. LETTER VIII. From Sir Henry Jones,* to Sir Henry Herbert. Noble Brother, — I Am given to under- stande by the relatione of dyvers gentlemen and * " Elizabeth, my eldest sister, was married to Sir Henry "Jones, of Albemarles, who had by her one son and two " daug;hters ; the latter of her time was the most sickly and mi- " serable that hath been known in our times, while, for the " space of about fourteen years, she languished and pined away ** to skin and bones, and at last died in London, and lyeth buried " in a church, called , near Cheapside/'.-*7%e Lifi •f Edward Lord Herbert j p. 15. C i 18 ] travaylers, that my wief is muche afflicted with the , hard usage she doth suffer at the Doctor's hands, and that his disposition is very harshe towardes her ; whereof I wonder muche to heare, for I have found his carriage both fayre and lovinge, and cold hardlie believe the contrarie, but that it is soe publiquely re- ported by manie, that 1 am greately ashamed to heare of it : wherefore I would intreate you to doe me the courtesye, and in your brotherly affectione to her, to take some notice thereof, ^nd, accordinge as you finde cause, see that shee may not be wronged or debarred of her owne, as farr foorth as shall be needfull to sup- ply her occasiones; and if anie should conceave that 1 doe this as makinge account to receave anie benefitt from her, I take God to witnesse, that I doe not expect the vallew of a peaie of all that shee hath, but onely one diamond, which was my father's ; and that, I hope, if God inables her to speake at her dicing, shee will take order that I may have it. As for the rest, I doe not regarde them when I am bereaved of my wief^^ whoe is dearer unto mee then any thinge ells ; and my desire is, if 1 could, to helpe her rather then to seeke of her ; but the greate chardge I have been lately put unto in settlinge my children hath muche disabled me, that I cannot doe as I would; and albeit the one did not match herself with my consent, yet my care was Tieverthelesse to make and provide her a portione [ 19 1 as g-ood as her sisters. Aad nowe being" dis- burthened of them, my next care shal be to ridd myselfe out of debt, wherewith ray minde is muche perplexed, and then I hope to live at some more ease towards my latter dayes ; for hitherto I could never be out of troubles and cares. Thus hopeing" to heare from you touchinge what I write, with the remembrance of my true affection to yourself, and my service to your no- ble ladye, I rest, yourtruely honouringe brother, H. JOHNES. Abermarles, 21th Feb. 1633. I pray remember me to all persons, and t "would desire to knowe how my cozen, William Herbert, your sonne, is. If he be ready for the ridinge of a horse, I will provide him with a Welch nagg, that shal be as mettlesome as himr selfe. I pray you remember my service to my brother, my Lord Herbert. To the Right Woorll. his muche honored brother. Sir Henry Herbert, at the signe of the Shipp, in the upper end oi Bucklersbury, these, London. If he doth not lodge there, intreate them to direct the bringer wher to finde him. c 2 C 20 1 LETTER IX. From Sir Henry Herbert^ ^o *** June, 1639. When the King-e was tn Spaine, it troubled my Lord of Carlisle, meeting with my Lord of Hollandj that his mule had not given * " At the game time that the King (Charles I.) resolved to ** raise an army, he caused enquiry to be made, what obligations ** lay upon his subjects to assist him, both as he went himself ** in person, and as it was an expedition against the Scots ; and " in the tenure which many men held their estates by, he found '* that the kings had usually, when they went to make war in " their own persons, called as many of their nobility to attend " upon them as they thought fit. Therefore he summoned most " of the nobility of the kingdom, without any consideration of " their affections, ho\r they stood disposed to that service, to " attend upon him by a day appointed, and throughout the ex- '*pedition." — Clarendon, vol. i, parti. 115. Sir Henry Herbert, holding a knight's fee, was summoned on this occasion, and pro- ceeded to join the royal army at York. From his MS. accounts of the expenses of this expedition, it appears that he set out from Ribsford the 7th April, 1639, and that his army equipage, consisting of three men and five horses, reached York the 13th. ** On Saturday in the aftemoone, the 13th of Aprill, my horses " came to Yorke, and I allowe them 2 bushells of oates a weeke, " beginninge from Saturday night, for the five horses ; a bushel! "ofbeanes; a busheil of bran/' "Wee came to Bai-wicke," says he, " the 27th Maye, being Munday ; upon the 28th my ** accounts were evened; of £62:12:3, there did" remain* *^ £7:3: 11/' " On Tuesday the 18th June, the peace was con- " eluded ; the articles on the Kinge's part signed by Secretarye " Cooke and Secretarye Sterlinge, on the Covenanters by E. " Wrothes and E. Dumfermlin. On Thursday the 20th, the " Covenanters discharged their army ; thern delivereji Edinbo- " rough Castle to my Lord Hamilton, who put Generall Ryven " into it. Other thinges performed. " The K. discharged his army the 22 June, on the Saturday, " and same morninge qvdtted the field, and went] for Barwicke : [ 21 ] liim the variety of a stumble ; if he were alive to see the government of our army and affaires, he woulde find variety enough : variety of lyes, contradictions, oathes, ignoranse, feares, and disorders. Truthe is as great a stranger to our campe, as good nature to the country people ; a man may bee lovi^zy at more certainty than cleanly ; contradictions as familiar as similes; oathes as complements; ignoranse as pastimes] fearfcs as fishes ; and disorders as youthe. The Anticovenanters of the Scots excellin the three first, and our officers and jeunesse in the latter ; they take themselves to bee at home, and wee in a progress ; when every motion tendes to the harbouringe or rousinge ofthedeere, an alarme with them is of no more consequence then a hoUowe. Tyme may mende some of this, or, if it doe not, Lesley* will be the reformer, and teeche us "20 dayes' paye to the souldyers to carye them home. The •^ Kynge gave the horses to the officers. The 22, on Saterday, " I kiste the Kyng's hand at Barwicke. Lay the first night at " Anwick, 24 ; the second at Morpithe, 12 ; the third at Durham, " 24 ; the fourth at North-Alerton, 24; the fifthe at Makelfeyld, <' 27; the sixthe at Tuxford, 33; the seaventh at Stanford, 37; " the eighthe at Cambridge, 33 ; the ninth at Cambridge ; the " tenthe 37/' (MS. penes me.) In the Appendix, No. 2, will be found some very curious manuscript observations, or notes, made by Sir Henry Herbert, during the time he was attached to this northern expedition. * David Lesley, who was an able, though, in some instances^, an unfortunate general, learned the art of war under the great Grtistavus Adolphus. He had the honour of defeating, but with a much superior army, the broken forces of the heroic Marquis of Montrose. He reduced Cromwell to great strait* before the [ 22 ] US more maners and discretion. Wee have past throgh many mistes, and are come to see Lesley 25,000 stronge; the five thousand only were remembered ; foure or five thousand at moste ; that the CovenantersJ could never make more ; that they would scatter, and come into the Kinge, so soone as he appeared at Barwick* But that's to begin ; for not a man of quality is scene to come from them, and they doe rather growe than diminishe ; and are likely to holde together, havinge endured the fi rste assault, and havinge common consent for their union. You may add, the conjuration of the women, whose eloquence is witchcraft, and opinion faith ; their malice is beyond the malice of brothers, and their poyson the poyson of aspes. The Lord Marquis of Hamilton's mother commands a regiment, and leade them into battle of Dunbar ; and fougM that fatal battle merely in obe- dience to the pressing importunities of his soldiers. These de- luded people were told by their ministers, that they had been wrestling with the Lord all night in prayer, and were very con- fident that they had obtained the victory. Cromwell, when he saw them advancing to the engagement, exclaimed with no less confidence, that "the Lord had delivered them into his hands.'' Lesley was a second time defeated by Cromwell, at the battle of Worcester; where he was taken prisoner, and sent to the Tower. He was upon the Restoration set at liberty, and created baron of Newark. — Granger i. 51. X For an interesting view of the Scotch Covenanters, see " Kirkton's Secret and True History of the Church of Scotland. " Edinburgh, 1817 ;'' and that masterly production, the second story in "Tales of my Lanciiord," a work of unequalled power, in which the tale alone is the ofi'spring of fancy ; but the inci- dents, situations, manners, and opinions, are all corroborated by the facts of authentic history. I 23 ] Edenboroughe with a case of pistols at her sadle, and a case at her sydes. Our ladys are not more skilful! in curling-e and poudringe then the Scotchewomen in charginge and dischargeinge their pistols.* They exercise the postures too ; and may prove dangerous Amazons, in their weapons rather than beauty, which is no petard nor grenado : Lesley had no better instruments of warr then their eyes, they could draw no blood- It may prove the subject of a comedye hereafter. The quarell began among- the women ; and ther the fyer burnes still, (regarding to bishops,) not to be putt out, but in putting them out, (i. e, the bishops J J and 'tis now a question, whether they will accept of the conditions they demanded: the space is great 'twixt conditions offered and demanded ; as wee have fayl'd in our conditions, so they have gayn'd by our denyaljs. No an- swers have begott new questions ; and it may bee doubted whether they will seeke us any more by petition or letter. They shewe us men now, andarmes; men resolved to defend e them- selves, rather then offende us; men of one mynde, like saylers in a storme ; one and all ; ail laboringe at their taclings. * For the zeal of the Scotch ladies, and their influence in ex- citing the spirit of the men, see Clarendon, in his account of this expedition. " As heretofore, in the case of St. Paul, (Acts " xiii. 50,) the Jews stirred up the devout and honourable wo- " men, so the women and ladies of the first quality declfired "themselves of the party; and with ail the reproachps imagin- " able, made war upon the bishops, as introducers of popery and " superstition." — History of the ReleUwn,vol.vi parti, p. 110. C 24 ] Their civility s have been greate,* as if they desired they should begett civility, and bee the parents of others. Many of oar nation passinge into their country, to take a view and make proclamation, have encountered with wine, meade, and kinde welcome; the Kinge's, Queene's, and Prince's healthe drunke. Yes- terday too of my Lord of Clifford's troope were taken, shoeing* of their horses, and kept too nightes ; they were weall treated, discharged freely, and tould, that as it should coste them nothing, so they were glad of the occasion of expressinge their love to their good neighbours of England. The country is better than I did expect it, and the people worse. Bar wi eke may be com- pared with London for situation, and ex eel Is it in salmon ; the provision is cheape, if discreet people had the managinge of it. He that will eate a botle of hay for a wager, may come here and win it. Cleanlyness is scarce here as cherys. * Several causes as conspiring to produce this friendly feel- ing are enumerated by Clarendon, on the part of the Scotch towards the English army ; such as, " the Marquis of Hamilton's "neighbourly residence with his fleet and foot soldiers before " Leith, without any shew ©f hostility, or any care taken to draw " his friends and followers together for the Kings service : on " the other side,4he visits of his mother, made him on board his " ship, who was a lady of great authority among the Cove- '* nanters, and most addicted to them and their covenant, her " daughters being married likewise to those noblemen who most " furiously persecuted the church, and presided in the councils ; " the King's refusing to give leave to some ofiicers of horse, who " had oflered to make inroads into the country, and destroy " the stock thereof; and lastly, the reception of the Earl of Hol- *Mand, after his shameful retreat, &c.." — Ut siqy. 121, [ 25 3 lasteail of apricotts and melons, you may be fiir- Dished here with kale and fishe, oates and barley. The Covenanters sent us a winde, and we sent them another. On Sunday the 16th June, the Kinge's tent had near been blowne downe, whilst he was att super. It gave nie a blowe on niyheade with a pole, interposinge betwixt the wynde and the Kinge. Hisworde and writinge should goe together. f ^' That my Lorde Wrothes moved against ** innovation, and yet moved him to innovate in *' excludinge bishops^ " That they (/. e. bishops) were in practise *' in his father's tyme and ir* his, and that he ** would e not turne them away. " That it should be the acte of the Assembly, ^- not his. *' That he v>^ould not give his word to secure " them, for the performance of what he promist. ** That Clarke Johnson J had a hanginge face. " That Hindeison|| had a grave and pro- ** misinae face. f These are observations occasionally made by the King ia conversation. 1 A notable character among the Covenanters, and their registry-clerk. jl Alexander Henderson, the chief of the Scottish Clergy, was " learned, eloquezit, and polite, and perfectly versed in the know- ** ledge of mankind. He was at the helm of affairs in the ge- " neral assemblies in Scotland ; and sent into England in the *' double capacity of divine and plenipotentiary. He knew how " to rouze the people to war, or negociate a peace. Whenever "he preached, it was to a crowded audience; and when he / pleaded or argned, he was heeird with mute attention. Charles f 26 ] *' That Wrothes and Lodian were knowne to *' him. " That no guess could bee made, by physiog- **nomy, of men knowne. ** That he had a good guess at men's faces. " The curtayne drawne of invasion and dis- '* obedience." The kinge would have no quarrele for reli- gion; and the Covenanters none but for religion : " In defence of Christ's cause :" ** To fighte *' for their salvation : that they dyed martyrs ; ** their soules on it," sayd the preachers. On Thursday the 20th the articles were pro- claymed* in the Scotche camp by the Scotche harald : at the same tyme the Lord Castles had a protestation in paper, and offered it, saying, he would mayntaine the Assembly. My Lord Argueil hindred it to be read. The army was discharged the same day. (Endorsed on the same paper.) " King's ** honor. In nullifyinge the assembly. In re- *^ ducinge his subjectes to ther obedience. In dis- *' I. when he was at Newcastle, engaged in a religious dispute **' with him, in which the King had clearly the advantage ; a cir- *' cumstance that so affected Henderson, as to have occasioned " his death. Before he died, he is said to have expressed re- '* morse for his conduct towards the King/' — Granger. * Clarendon observes, vol. i. p. i. page 123, " Whoever will take '* upon him to relate all that passed in that t;reaty, must be behold- " ing to his own invention; the most essential matter having *' passed in discourse, and very little committed to writing." Thi« dearth of information on the subject will be in some measure sup- plied by the curious notes of Sir Henry Herbert, made during the expedition, and contained in the appendix. [ 27 ] " coveringe the truthe. In savinj the blood of *^ his people. ** A skoller being* with the Biesliop Andrews, ** was tould he was bare, and desired to bee co- " verd ; * my Lord,* he answered, ' when I*m *^ * cover'd, I shall bee bare still.' The Bieshop " understood it, and gave him £20.*' LETTER X. From H. Scudamore to &V Henry Herbert. Sir, — In great haste, be pleased to accept, with my affectionate service, the enclosed. To it I have nothhig of certainty to adde. The affairs on the other side the sea are not this week very productive. Onely the Spaniards received another blow, attempting to raise the siege from before Turin. The French are settling things about Arras ; and the Cardinal Infant, with his array, lyes hovering still not far from thence. Your cosen Mr. Tho. Herbert and his wife are both returned in health last night. Hee is now with me, presents you his service, and de- sires pardon for not writing this day. I rest your servant, H. SCUDAMORE. London, Au^. 29, 1640. *Tis said the Scots with a great arniy are in Northumberland. I have your's of 21st current. For my noble friend, Sir Henry Herbert, knt. [ 28 ] LETTER Xr. Trom Mary Herbert* to the same, Honok'd Unkle, —I hereing" of your ser- vant's returning to you was desirous to present you and my honoured ante my most luimbleservis by these lines ; and also I most humbly thank you for the great love you were pleased to shue my deare husband, when he was with you. I heard lately frome him. He is now at Oxford, not very well with a pane he hath in his right arme and foot : he sends me word he feres it is the gout, but I rather thinke it is some extraordinary could. 1 pray God, of his infinite mercy, bles him, and bles the menes that shall be used to him for his health. I am coufedant lie shall have your prayers. BIy deare husband was pleased to writ to mee, and sende mee a great deal of newes, which I beleve you hear of ; but I pray you give me leva to troubele you with thus much only, which is this, -my Lord of Newcastle^ * This letter, and some others which follow in the series, from women of family, breeding, and fashion, in their time, afford striking proofs of the neglect of female education among our an- cestors. A few splendid examples, indeed, occur in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, of women, whose minds had been cultivated to a high degree : and whose attainments would be thought extraordinary, even in the present day ; but the general character of the sex seems to have been that oi docile domestic mnimalsy whose duties were exclusively confined to providing for the comforts of their lords, and managing the concerns of their families; and to whom the whole class of intellectual pleasures were utterly unknown. * William Cavendish, Marquis of Newcastle. Upon the eruption of the civil war, he raised a very considerable army in [ 29 ] hath imprisoned my Lord of Newpoi't,* and my Lord Saveli, and the Sheriffe of Yorkshire, for a most miserable plot, which they had upon the Queene and his Lordship's army, to deliver the Queene, uh<> is dayly expected, into the powre of the Parliament, and to betray his Lordship's army to the Parliament. Thes are mesarabel plots. The Lord give all these ploters their disarts, and setile this kingdom in pease agane, if it be his blessed will. So, fereing" I have biu to troabelsom with thes lines, I shall only desiere you to present my serves to my ante, aud my kind love to all my cossons, with my serves to yourself. I will ever rest, your most respectfull nece to love and serve you, MARY HERBERT 3Tount,23dJan. 1642. the northern counties, with which he was successful against the Parliament forces, and defeated Ferdinando Lord Fairfax, at Adderton Moor; but his subsequent conduct seems to have greatly contributed to the ruin of the King's affairs. After the defeat at Marston Moor, he went beyond sea, and was, during the interregnum, chiefly at Antwerp, where he amused himself in writing books. (Granger.) For the character of his Lordship as an author, see Walpole's Royal and Noble Authors, vol, i.p. 12. For the supposed plot, see Smollett, vol. vii. p. 206. * Mountjoy Blount, Earl of Newport, a natural son of Charles Blount, esq; and Penelope, daugliter of Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex, and wife of Robert Lord Rich. He was created Baron of Thurlton, by James 1st; raid Earl of Newport, by Charies. He w^as Master of the Ordnance, and one of the council of war in the royal army. He died 1665. (Granger.) On his apprehension, he was dismissed from Ms office of Constable of th« Tower, ( Smollett, yii. 206.) [ 30 r All the children are very well, I prays Gob : and they all presents you and my ante ther hum bell serveses, and their loves to their cossons. To my much honoured unkell, Sir H. Herbert, this present. LETTER XII. From Edwarb Lord Herbert* to the same. Sir Henry, — The business I intended by you I have dispatched another way. I am think-^ inge of a journey to the Spavt^; but I doubt how I shal be able to g*o, my body beinge more infirme then to endure any labour. And let me assure you, I finde myselfe grown older in this one ! yeare than in fifty-nine yeares before , which, as it is true, I should bee glad were knowne among the best of those to whom you go. I shall pray for a good and speedy end to all those troubles ; and in particular that Goi> would guide those who are now met. And here I must remember that of all of us, there remains now but you and I to brother it. I pray you remember my kind love to your lady and all yours. So I rest, your faithfull loving brother, HERBERT. Mosskfj C. l4tJi June, 1643. To the right worthy Sir Henry Herbert, knight, at his hous© near Bewdley, Ribsford, SS. * Sir Henry Herbert's eldest brother j the| celebrated Lord Herbert of Cherbury, I 31 ] LETTER Xlir. From the same to the same. Sir Henry, — For the good offices you ever done mee, I thanke you. But why therupon you should fall upon your old whettinge, I marvaile. I had rather, for my part, forget all unkinde passages, then remember them, so as to send you a forgiveness for them. If Richard Witingham sent you word (as he told mee) of the condi- tion of the two parks, you would take nothing unkindly, especially when I wished him to teli you, that if you sent a guelding thither, he should bee welcome. But here also you may remem- ber the old answer. If you wall not take it unkindly that I denyed you a curtesay, I will not take it unkindly that you asked it. Good brother, use no more close repetitions : and now I growe old and infirme, do not afflictions and discomforts to your faithful lovinge brother, June 24, 1643. E. HERBERT, To the rigiit worthy Sir H. Herbert, at Oxford* LETTER XIY. From the same to the same. Sir Henry, — Though the messenger brought no letter from you to myselfe, yet because hee tould mee you were well, the welcome news thereof in these troubelsome limes invites me to congratulate it with you. If it had pleased R. Whittingham to have tould you that I had stone [ 82 ] horses in my lower parke, and no grasse in my upper parke, (as he tonld mee ^hee would,) ther had been no occasion for you to demand that, I could not conveniently do; but if you send a guelding or two untill Michelmas, they shal bee received. Wee are here almost in as great straits as if the warre were amongst us. Shrews- bury, which is our ordinary magazine, being exhausted of wine, vinegar^ hops, paper ; and pepper at four shillings the pound y and, shortly, a waiit of all commodities that are not native with us, will follow, the intercourse betweene us and London being interdicted. My dear and only brother, I wish you all health and happiness, and so rest, though much broken in my health, your faithfuU loving brother, E. HERBERT. My kind remembrance to your lady and children. — 26th Aug. 1643. LETTER XV. From Prjnce Rupert,* " To all Comanders, Officers, Souldiers whatsoever, of, or any way belonging to, his MaHieh Army, Forces, and Garrisons, and to all others whom it may concirne. By the authority and power given unto mee from his Highnes Prince Charles, Prince of Great Britaine, and ratified by our * Prince Rupert, the third son of the unfortunate Elizabeth, daughter of James I. and wife to the Elector Palatine, came over from Holland to the assistance of King Charles I. his uncle, about the time of his erecting the royal standard at Nottingham, [33 1 SovereigTie Lord Kin^ Charles, as captaine Generall under his Highnes, of all the forces of horse and foote, &c. I doe hereby strictly charge and comand yon, and every of you whom it shall or may concerne, imediately after the sight or knowledge hereof (all pretences and excuses soever sett aside) to doe noe maner of violence, injury, harme, or detriment, by un- lawfiiU plunderinge, to Sir Henry Herbert, knt. of Ribsford, in the county of Worcester, in his person, family, houses, goods, tenants, woods. He possessed, in a high degree, that kind of courage which is better to attack than defend ; and is less adapted to the land service, than that of the sea, where precipitate valour is in it$ element. He seldom engaged, but he gained the advantage, which he generally lost by pursuing too far. On one occasion, however, he tarnished his fame, and disappointed general expec- tation ; for he surrendered the city of Bristol to Sir Thomas Fairfax, almost as soon as he appeared before it; upon which, in the first transport of his anger, the King deprived him of all his commissions ; and ordered him to quit the kingdom. Charles, however, relented; and though afterwards personally affronted by Rupert, his mildness still triumphed over his indignation, and the Prince was pardoned, and taken into favour. (Smollett^ vii. 310. J Tliis Prince, who, according to Camden, received the name of Rupert, in memory of Rupert the first emperor of the Palatines, made a conspicuous figure in the reign of his cousin, Charles II. • and particularly distinguished himself in that memorable engage- ment in the second Dutch war, in which the brave Earl of Ossory commanded under him. Equally celebrated for his knowledge of, jand attachment to, the arts, we are in possession of several useful inventions which are attributed to him; such as, the art of mezzotinto engraving; the glass drops known by his name; and the metal called Prince Ruperf s metal : he also discovered a method of boring guns, but the secret died with the illustrious inventor. After an active and useful life, he expired at his house in Spring-Gardens, 29th Nov. 1681. Granger, vol I p, 21, J} [ 34 J catties, or chattels whatsoever, by yourselves or others, as you will answeare the contrary at your utmost perills. Given at Hereford, under my hand and seale, at Armes, this 2d day of January, 1644. RUPERT. LETTER XVI. From Lord Astley* " To the Bailiff and capital Burgesses of Beudley, and to all the Townsmen and Inha- bitants of the said Borough, and to every of them J* Jacob Lorde Astly, Baron of Reddinge, lieutenant-generall of his Ma't's forces in the counties of Worcester, Salop, Hereforde, and StafForde, and lieutenant-generall of his Ma- jestie's forces. Whereas severall warrants have issued from Sir Guilbert Gerrarde, knight, and Prince Maurice, requiringe you, and every of you, to forbeare the further assessinge of Sir Henry Herbert, knight, for the woods he holds of hi^ Majestic, in the forrest of Wyer, these are therefore to require and commande you, and * Sir Jacob Astley, created Lord Astley, Baron of Reading, field-marsliall and sergeant-major general of his Majesty's army; lieutenant-generalofthe forces of Worcester, Gloucester, Hereford, and South-Wales. He was among the first that entered into the service of the unfortunate Charles, and his last hope in the decline of his affairs; but was totally defeated, with the remnant of the royal army, near Stow-in-the-Wold, in Glou- cestershire, the 21st March, 1645-6. He died October 1, 1664, r 35 1 €very of yon, to forbeare the taxing"e of the saiA Sir Henry Herbert for the saide woods, in re- spect of the contribution monyes, or any other assessments whatsoever; it being unjust to charge the said woods with payments, which have yielded noe manner of profits for three years past; and to distribute the severall and distinct rates, layed by your former assessments upon Sir Henry Herbert, for the saide woods, amongste the inhabitants of the saide borough, in a just and equail manner. Wherein you, nor any of you, are to fail, at your utmost perills. Given under my hande this third of Jan. 1645» JACOB ASTLEY. LETTER XVII. From Prince Maurice* " To the Bailiffe and, capital Burgesses of Bewdleye, and to all the Townsmen and Inhabitants of the sayd borough, and to every of them J* Whereas you have unjustly and wilfully continued in the wrong assessing of his Ma ties woods in the forest of Wyer^ holden by Sir Henrye Herbert, knight; and have dis- * Prince Mamrice, third surviving son of Elizabeth and the Elector Palatine, entered into the service of Charles I. about the same time with his brother Rupert. He seems to have had less ardour, but more prudence, than his brother: andkn^w, far better than him, how to pursue an advantage which he had gained. He laid siege to several places in the west of England, and took Exeter and Dartmouth; but his most signal success was at Latt8- dowD; in the neighbourhood oi BaXh^-^rangen D2 [ 36 i obeyed my warrant of the 28th of January, 1664; and whereas Richard Walker, of Bewd- leye, by false informations, obteyned my warrant requirein^ the said Sir Henrye Herbert to paye the assessments laid upon the said woods for contribution moneys. These are therefore to revoke the saide war- rant granted to Richard Walker, or to any other or others, for the purpose aforesaide. And to require you, and every e of you, whose names are above-written, to forbeare the further assessing of the said Sir Henry Herbert, for the said woods, in respect of the contribution monyes; or any other whatsoever: it being unjust to charge the sayd woods with payments, which have yielded noe manner of profitts for these three yeares past: And to distribute the severall and distincte rates layd by your former assessments, upon Sir Henry Herbert, for the sayd woods, amongst the inha- bitants of the sayd borough in a just and equall manner ; and likewise to observe punctually the contents of my former warrant in this be- halfe. Fayle not at your uttermost perill. Given at Worcester, the seventeenth day of September, 1645* MAURICE. t 37 ] LETTER XVIII. From General Fairfax* to Captaine Edmund Halt.. Sir, — The Houses of Parliament having putt under my command all the land forces of this kin^dome, whereof youre troope is a part 5 that I might give a certayne accompt thei'eof to them, 1 have thought fitt to appoynt Captaine John Gorges, a man of knowne fidelity, to bee commander thereof, desiring you to resigne the saide troope, with all the horses and armes be- longing thereunto, unto him. And, forasmuch as the armyes proceedinges have been misrepre- sented to the souldiers thereof, I desire you would sumon all officers and souldiers belong- inge to the troope ; and in my name lett them knowe, that I shall be equally careful for them with the rest of the souldiery in the kingdome ; and in confidence of your and theire obedience to my comands, I shall bee ready to do any thing which may tend to their encouragement. * Sir Thomas Fairfax, knight, General of the forces raised by the Parliament, afterwards Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, &c. He was formed a soldier under Horatio Lord Vere, in the Netherlands, and present at the taking of Bois le Due from the Spaniards. He came behind no character of his time for up- rightness, sincerity, and military talents ; but was no match for Cromwell in art and subtlety, who first duped, and then made him his tool. Sir Horace Vere, liis master in the art of war, was remark- able for doing great things with few men ; and Fairfax, for equal exploits with the loss of but few. He had a considerabl« share in the restoration of Charles 11,-— 'Granger, [ 38 ]x And further, to prevent mistakes, I have sent this gentleman, Captaine Vernon, to declare unto them the ground of the armye's proceed- ings ; bye promotinge whereof, you v^^ill dis- charge your duty towards the settling of the peace of this kingdome, and cause to subscribe myselfe your assured friend, T. FAIRFAX. From my Head-quarters at ^ Putney y 4tk Sept. 1647. LETTER XIX. From Gen. Fairfax to Captaine Edm". Hall, Being informed, that, notwithstanding my late order to confirme my comission given to Capt. Gorge, for the comande of that troope formerlie under you, yet you have forcibly and violently taken away divers men and horses, and have refused to returne them againe, notwith- standing my orders shewed unto you ; you are, on sighte hereof, imediately to deliver uppe such horses and armes as you soe tooke from Capt. Gorge, being those that went oiT with him, uppon his receipt of my comission; and that likewise, some men you compelled to goe with you like- wise, bee returned back. Wherein you are not to fayle, as you will answer the contempt. Given under my hand and seale at Windsor, the 17th day of September, 1647. T.FAIRFAX. [ 39 ] LETTER XX. From Gen. Fairfax " ToHhe Hon, Robret ScAWEN, Esq; in the Chairs for the Honourable the ' Lords and Comons, on the Committee for the Army there J* Sir, — I am informed by the inhabitants of Bridge water, that they doe suffer exceedingly by a disproportion of assessments for the army; they being charged to board a third part of the assess- ments of that hundred where it lieth, though itt be not able to beare the sixteenth parte. Itt was formerly a ritch towne, and of greate trad- ing; but by the late warres, halfe of the towne hath been burnt down, and the people soe im- poverished, and trade decayed, that 1 cannot but recommend the condition of that place unto you; to the end, some course may be taken, that that place may bear in assessments according to that just and equall portion it is now able to beare, which I leave to your consideration, and remaine your very assured friend, St. Albans, Nov. 16, 1648- T. FAIRFAX. LETTER XXL From J. Sei,den* to the Hon. Sir Henry Herbert, Knight. Noble Sir,~-This Gentleman, Mr. Williams, comes from Dr. Chaunsell, head of Jesus col- * John Selden, sometimes styled " the great dictator of learn- « ing of the English nation," and pronounced by Grotius^ hi* . I 40 ] lege in Oxford, about the legacy of books made to them by my Lord of Cherbury. I presuri^e lie will take just care of the safe delivering of them, if he shall receive them from your hand, which I desire he may, together v/ith the cata- logue, to take a copy of it, and return it again. Sir, I ever am, your most affectionate and hum- ble servaot, J. SELDEN, Nov. 1, 1648. White Friars. LETTER XXII. From Edward HERBEHTf to the same. Honored Unkle, — I have had three or four letters from my Uncle Edward about the odde jantagonist, to be the glory of it, was a man of extensive and pro- found knowledge as any of his age. He was thoroughly skilled in every thing that related to his own profession ; but the general bent of his studies was to sacred and profane literature. The greater part of his works are on uncommon subjects. Like a man of genius, he was not content with walking in the beaten track of learning, but was for striking out new paths, and en- larging the territories of science. His ^' Divine Right of Tithes" gained him more enemies than any of his works; and his " Mare liiberum," in which he had the advantage of Grotius, did hirn the most honour. Towards the close of life, he saw the emptiness of human learning; and owned, that, out of the numberless volumes he had read and digested, nothing stuck so close to his heart, or j^ave him such satisfaction, as a single passage out of St. Paul's Epistles, Titus ii. 11, 12, 13,14. He died 30th Nov. 1654.— Granger. See also a neat piece of biography, Selden's and tJsher's Lives, by Aikin. t Grandson of Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury. He was lineally descended from Sir Richard Herbert, of Colebrook, L 41 3 , sheetes that are to make the bookes de Veritate compleate, which (since they bee in your house) I desire you to deliver them, or at lest iett my cosen Herbert, that I may receive some profitt from them; since I have not (as yett) had any from any thing that my grandfather hath left, but dayly expect the receipt of 3 or £400 from Montgomery. I have sent you a Lampreede pye b}' the bearer, and I desire you to accept itt as alsoe the well-wishes of your most obedient nephew and servant;, E. HEREERT. St. Julian S.Dec. ISth, 1648. " th?tX incomparable hero/' (as Lord Herbert remarks in his life,) " who Uvice passed through a great army of Northern men " alone, with his pole-axe in his hand, and returned without any * mortal hurt.'' P. 7. The descent of Edward Herbert, froin^ this puissant warrior, is as follows: Sir Richard Herbert, of Colebrook ; Sir Rich. Herbert, knight/ his 2d son ; Edward Herbert, of Montgomery, esq ; Richard Herbert, esq ; Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury, and Castle Island in Ireland ; Richard Lord Herbert, and Edward Lord Herbert. (3IS. pedigree.) The title was extinguished in him A. D. 1691; and revived in 1694, in the person of Henry Herbert, esq; of Ribesford, Worcestershire, the second son, and third child, (by his first wife,) of Sir Henry Herbert, knight, and master of the revels. The above letter was written before Edward Herbert came to the title ; and some following ones after he h3.d succeeded to it. " Cliirbii;i hundred was annexed to Montgomerie as a help to "have men out ofit for defence." Itiscalledin Domesday Wikantre^ from Gnire, an angle, and tre, a town, from iis situation in a flat among the mountains. Edward III. granted it to Roger Mor- timer, as annexed to Montgomery Castle. Edward IV. granted it to the Prince of Wales: and Edwaid VI. to Sir Edward Her- bert; and Charles the First gave Sir Edward Herbert leave to ahenditeit.—'GougJis Camden J vol. Hi. p, 12.' - r 42 3 My sisters remember their services to you, and 1 desire that they res and mine may be pre- sented (allsoe) to your lady. To my deare untie Sir Henry Herbert, knight, ait his lodging* in Coven Garden, LETTER XXIir. From Lady Vere Every* to the same. Honored Sir, — I should be very unwilling to bringe any pregudie upon you, tho' it would be a very greate satisfaction to me for many rea* sones, which I shall make you acquainted when I see you. When I wrote to you at furst, my Lady Every was very desirous you should be maid acquainted with it, an say'd you told hir you Would do any thing to improve Sir Harry's estatte ; and if you would, you might gurde it in your one name, and in joy the wrents tel he came at aige. Thay thinke you will not doe it ; for she, it seames, thinks you to be very neare. Jeames has say'd as much. Thay doe not love you nor me neather, but from the teeath out- wards. Thay think you have perswaided Sir Harry not to prove the will ; and when thay have any discourse, she says Sir Harry Herbert is his councel. If you will purchase this land, which is 81. a yeare, at twenty yeares purchase, you will put a visiable courtisi upon Sir Harry . * Eldest daughter, and second child, by his first wife, of Sir Henry Herbert. She married Sir Henry^Ver^ of Eggington.— MS, Pedigree, ' [ 43 ] Every, which I am sure you have not beea behind hand in; but I beleve thay doe not thinke soe, for my Lady sa}'S, you neaver did hir any realy frendshep in your life. My Lady has a a mind to aave this land, and does solicit Mr. Waltors under hand to have it ; but he would not let her have it tel Sir Harry refuses it, and he promises that he shall have it 5 pound cheaper than another. She makes all the provision as she cane for hir yonger cnildren. We shall not be the better for her by a grote; we must not stay heare an}' longer then our Lady-day. If you will give us leve, we will be with you a niounth or tow; and then we shall not know how to dispose of ourselves, without you will be pleased to live at Ribsfor, for Sir Harry Eevry cannot live out of the countrey. I could wish that we had our share of the goods w^hich are heare. Jeames and my Lady is very great: thay cannot abide we should have any muny ; there was wrents braut the other day, and be- cause she did not receave ail, she was so doged, that she would not come doune in two or three days, and did scarce alow us meat. I doe truble you with these things, that you may be ac- quainted with hir youmours. I thanke God I content myselfe with any thing, and never take noates of them. I am very happy, thanke God, in Sir Harry Every; he is a very great lover and honourer of you, which dos incourage me to love him more. Pray, Sir, my duty to my [ 44 ] nauther; and pardon the truble I have put you to from hir that is your dutyful daughter, V. E. For my honoured Father, Sir Henry Herbert. LETTER XXIV. From Sir Harry Every to the same. Sir, — AccoRDiNGE to your directions, I have previously, by Mr. Alestree, tryed all wayes with Forde aboute the tythe, but he is soe perremtory and unreasonable, that there is nothing* to be donne with him. A hun- dred pounds will not satisfie him and Bould; theire solicittor Harrison is now going* to Lon- don, who sayes hee goes one his owne businesse, and onely carries Foorde a letter. It has been onely youre care which has prevented his kna- very hytherto, and is only your favoure which preserves^, Sir, your obedient son, Jan. 27. 1648. HENRY EVERY. Sir, my desier is, that you would com doune as sone as you cane, for we wold faine be gon from this place. My Lady dos leade us a very uncomfortable life, and wolde faine be wrid of us ; and sayse I am she that dose perswade Sir Henry to all that is not agreabell to hir you- mours, y. For my honored Father, Sir Henry Herbert, at his hous* in Jeames^quare, in Coven Garden. Pay post 6d. [ 46 I LETTER XXV. From Lady V. Every to the same. Honored Si r, — It is my Lady's desier to ac- quaint you, that there is'profered Sir Harry Every a parcle of ground by Ceaster. — wrent of five pounds a yeare, which is ajoining to his, and hee has a mind to sell it. Pray, Sir, give your opinion in it. The tailor and the sadler is Un- pay'd, against our wils; and we doe entend to stay tell our Lady-day^ that we may bring np money. My Lady has receaved the wrents, and has made so much worke, that we have re- ceaved little or nothing. I am afeard when she comes to an account, that there will be a breach. She does desire that you may be the judge be- twene them. Sir, for the muney that you have pay'd for me. I humbly thank you ; I shall' indeavour to be more obedient, which is all I can returne for your love and care of me, and for my failings. I beseech you. Sir, impute them, not to my willfullness, but to my ignorance; for nothing in this world can be a greater truble to me than your disfavour, I had an entent to write to my cosenes V. I am not very well. I am trubled much with the cholick ; therefore I will crave your pardon, and desier you will give me leave to subscribe myselfe your duty full daughter, Dec 23. VERB EVERY. I 46 3 Sir Hury present his duty to you. I have write to Mr. Soiy, w«th the confidence, that by your favour I shall obtaine my desier. For my honored father, Sir Henry Herbert, in Jeames-square. LETTER XXVr. From Sir H. Herbert to Lady Y. Every. Vere, — To boast your obedience, and to owne your Chancery Bill, are contradictions, vi^hich become not your piety and my innocency. As to my expressions, they are like the wounds of a faithfull friend, though you have converted them into the gaule of bitterness, and are more de- lighted with the kisses of an enemy. The reports are false; 'tis of your making, and cannot bee true when they are used to wounde Miy good name; for great is truth, and will prevaile in spight of the malice conceived against Yours, H. HERBERT. You had advise of my maradge, as the person most concerned in relation : and because the newes was acceptable to you, the safe delivery of a paire of daughters will encrease the joye, that my grasious God is pleased to double his blessings, whilst you deale injuries. Zd Jan. 1651, [ 47 3 LETTER XXVII. From E. Herbert,* Esq; to Sir H. Herbert. 31omitgomery , 26th Jan. 1653. Most Honor'd Unkle, — You may think it very strange, that, after receiving- soe many letters from yon, I never had the civility to re- turn you a thankfuU acknovidedgment for your care of mee and my businesse; but give mee leave to tell you, your kindnesses to me were mixt with soe many reproachfull threaten ings of my Lord, (I conceive not justly grounded,) that I thought, since there was a necessity of displeasing my Lord (if 1 shou'd approve of them), or you, in my silence, I chose the latter, because naturall affection binds me to it; which you cannot dislike, wh^n you consider it aright^ and would expect the like from your owne sonne; My cosen William Browne is desired to re- ceive the Monmouthshire writings againe from you, and by your favour and direction to move againe in that businesse, Soe with my wife's and my services to yourself and lady, I rest your most affectionate nephew and servant, E. HERBERT. My blessings to my dear niece and goddaughter. For my most honor'd uncle, Sir Henry Herbert, knight, atthif house in Jeames-street, Coven-Garden, * Grandson of JSdward, first Lord of Gherbury, and son of Richard, second Lord of Cherbury; and succeeded his father Richard in the title and estate. [ 48 ] LETTER XXVIII. From the same* to the same. My Hon' Unkle, — Nothing afflicts me soe much, ia the midst of all my trubles, as to loose your favor, whom I esteem my sacred anchor. Necessitie coinperd me to send a speciall cursitor away to serve my Lord and his Lady mother. This was to be done in that in* stant of time when I should have attended you; yet in that pressure of businesse, I made it my first worke by letter to excuse my non attend- ance. I leave it now to your owne breast to judge of my course. For youre five pound, I cannot with convenience return it yett; be pleased therefore to send Mr. Cox over with a bond, and it shall be signed, and confirm*d ac- cording to your pleasure. For the will you mention, it is made. I made one, but not with- out remembrance of what you desirede from iiiee. Books for my deare and sweet relation cosen Harrie. Some things else was bequeathed, if my memorie faile me not. The rest I left to charitable pious uses, and, among the rest, for a tomb-stone for my father, though paide for by himselfe, yet never sett on him by his executors, administrators, or their trustees. And now I have told you this, give me leave to tell you my design was to have altered my will, and made it ^tunn with a full currant towards you and yotirs ; * After he had succeeded to the title. [ 49 ] hut IJind you under valewe my right and interest^ slight and neglect me in my greatest pressures ; it seeviinge^ therefore, not worth your acceptation, I shall never ihinkeit worth my proffer. Indeed, Hon. Unkle, gratitude is the greatest point of honour my soul courts; which I will endeavour yet farther to improve, by forgettinge asper- sions, and remembering courtisies onlie. Thus, I design to christen my memorie everie morning, that I may rise fresh to acknowledge myselfe ta all I am engaged too, and to yourselfe in the first place. Youre poore indebted, but affec- tionate, nephew and servant, Feb. 6th, 1656. HERBERT. My humble service to my good and vertuous iiunt, and all my sweet cosens. To the Right Hon. Sir Henry Herbert, his most honored uncle, at his liouse in Chelsea, present, these. LETTER XXIX, From the same to the same. HoNNOREB UNKI.E, — I received yours of December the 1st, and the 17th, of old Samuel; and with it a remarkable assurance of your unde- served affection towards your poore nephew. A perpetuall acknowledgement of this great favor is all I can express my gratitude in. Your expressions concerning Mr. Pulford are noe more than I resented before. As for my Lady and C 50 ] niy Lord Vernon, I finde the breaches between them increase daily, with small hope of uniting* the festring" parts, which how growne soe fowle, may bee guest at easilie. My best endeavours and praiers shall not be wanting, though foment- ing jealousies make such attempts hopeless as yet. Sir, I present my humble service to yourselfe, with my honnored good aunt ; and 1 desire your leave to present her with this small Welsh token, or new-year's gift, which you shall re- ceive by Ned Davies, Collier's heir, and suc- ceeding carrier. The carriage is paid for. My best love and respect to my hopeful cosin Harrie, and the rest of your deare pledges. Both in my life and death, I shall not be wanting in my real affections towards him, and all yours. Be pleased to believe this from your most oblidged, affectionate, dutifull nephew, Ckirburie, Dec. 19, 1655. HERBERT. For the Right Honorable Sir Henrie Herbert, at his house i» James-street, in Govent Garden. LETTER XXX. From the same to the same. Honnored Unkle,— I have sent you my release, and referre it to your owne time for the presentment of it, my sole confidence relyinge thereupon. When I shall bee sumonde to ap- peare personally, I make noe doubt, with your assistance, to cleare myselfe. For Sir Orlandoe [ 51 ] Bridgemaii's ami Mr. Person's judg'ements in my other cause, I have them safe, and hope to deliver them to you myself next weeke. For the bearer, tho' I keepe him poore, I dare trust him in a g'reater occasion then this; but if you have any prejudicial! opinion of him (which noe question hath some g-rounds), I desire to know it, that 1 may correct my easie beliefe. Sir, with my praiers for the confirmation of your health, I rest your obliged, affectionate nephew and servant, HERBERT. My humble service to my g-ood aunt, your vertuous lady, and all my sweet cosens; and pray, good unkle, use the caudle. Dec. Slh, 1656. To the Right Hon. Sir Henrie Herbert, my honored unkle, present these, at Chelsea. LETTER XXXr. From OnvER Cromwell* io Serjeant Wylde, S^C4 Gentlemen, — We doubt not but you have heard before this time of the hand of GOD g'oing- along with us, in defeating the late rebellious * The character of Oliver Cromwell has always been con- sidered as a kind of moi-al tsnignm, from the strange display of contrasts which it exhibited; enthusiasm, and cunning; am- bition, hypocrisy, and fanaticism. But the fact seems to be, that each of these principles was, for the time, the ruling one, and absorbed the man. Enthusiasm was the quality which first set his mighty mind in motion; as he advanced in his career, ane farre from thinking to displace him out of the regiment, that 1 am studying how I may advance him, and T am angry at this report : and soe went on, giving my brother an excellent caracter, and saying something of mee that pleases mee well. I wish to God my brother were in condition to attend his Grace ; bat on the whole matter I am highly encouraged, and how to shew myself God direct mee; would you afford councei!, after I have seen the Duke, I shall bee better able to judge. This businesse of mine must bee strucke up now the iron ishott; therefore I pray send the money to Mr. Burton, which, GoB willing, I shall re- pay with speed. Soe with servisesand blessings where due, I rest. Sir, yonv affectionate and obliged nephew and servant, HERBERT. For Sir Henry Herbert, knight, at Lyacoln's, Westminster, these, London. F 2 [ 68 } LETTER XXXIX. From the Bishop o/'Herefordj* to /Sir Henry Herbert. Croft Castle, May 2, 1665, SiR,-*I Received a letter lately from you without date, the style whereof truely is some- what harsh ; and threateninge a complaint if I give you not leave to remove the cause so much delayed by my chancellor. Farre be it from me to countenance unjust delays, or fear a com- plaint. Next 1 must tell you, my chancellor had his patent from my predecessor, which I have not power to controwl; yet, make his in- justice appear, 1 will joyn with you to the utter- most of my small power to have it punished, for I abhorre it in a church officer. You seem to expect more justice from the civilians ther. t Herbert Croft, D. D. according to Godwin, being seduced^ when abroad, by the arts and blandishments of the Jesuits, be- came a Roman Catholic, and enrolled himself among.that order. On his return to England he saw, acknowledged, and forsook his error ; and was made Dean of Hereford, by Charles I. Inth^ year 1644, he was ejected from his deanery: but his temporary loss of dignity was rewarded, at the Restoration, by the see of Hereford; in which he died, May 1691. — Godwin de Prasulibus. The letter refers to a cause which had been sometime pending in the Bishop's Court, between Sir Henry Herbert, and John Boras- ston, parson of Bewdley, relative to tithes. Much and long- continued ill-will subsisted between the opposite parties, in consequence of this contest. The dispute was at length ter- minated, however, and the rector (as appears by a subsequent •tter) sincerely deplored the loss of his old opponent^ [ 69 J i have appointed my chancellor to wait on you next weeke ; get the justest civilian ther to you; let him manifest the nnjnst delayes you com- plain of; and I pray let the result be sent to me, in particular, for what answer can I make to de- layes in generall ? can I tell whether the fault be in the matter, or manner, or liow eke ? I profes I am not able to jud^e all formes of pro- cedinge ; but I knowe in all courts some formes are necessary, some pretended. To conclude : if you please to come to particulars, and by tha judgment of some knoweinge, just person, make the fault appeare, I shall be as forwarde as you to complaine, ('tis all I can do ;) but if this ap- pear not, I pray. Sir, be not so forward to con- demae the innocent, and. Sir, your affectionat kinsman and servant, H. HEREFORD, For Sir Henry Herbert, ^t liineoln-House, Tuttle-streetc, Westminster. LETTER XL. From Lady Elizabeth Herbert* to the sam^. 21th August, \m — Sir, — Yours one Friday is racived, and yougoe one to improve Ribsfort; J if trouble and pleassure * Second wife to Sir Henry Herbert, X " Soon after the Conquest, Ribbesford became the habita- "tionof a knightly family, called i2i66e*/brrf ; which continued ** here till the reif n of Edward III. It tame afterwards t# tht [ 70 ] may be gin*d tog^elher, you injoye bouth with the laying out of your money. Li Harry it lise to compleat the contentment to ons of all oure labours, and extrodinary bountis you intend and bestoe on him; his poetry is well accepted of by Uie, and I commend his obedience to my cali. My blessing on him. You have done a very good worke in boardine the larder and entry, the dineing^roome being boarded. I could wish a starecase at that end, then we neade not cary strangers by the buttry bach. The radish is so prejudicious, that 1 thinke in wet wether hare it is to thike ; if it weare removed to the banke on the outside of the wall, by the ^* Barons Lisle, and descended to Sir John Dudley, knt. first " Viscount Lisle, then Earl of Warwick, and lastly Duke of " Northumberlaiid. After the attainder of this mighty peer, Sir " Eobert Acton was lord of Ribbesford, and was succeeded '\\\ *' it by his son, Robert Acton, esq; who, as we have seen in ^' a former letter, alienated it to Sir H. Herbert. His son, " Henry Herbert, esq; was created Baron of Cherbur^ in the " reign of King William ; that title being before extinct, by the " failure of the main branch of the family. He was succeeded " in his title and estate at Ribbesford, in 1708, by his son, Henry' ** Lord Heibert, then representative in L arlipment for Eewdley ; "who, on his lather's death, was called to tfee House of Peers. ■' Be was high-steward and recorder ol Bewdley, till his death in " IvSS. Hejnarriedthe Honourable Mary Wallop, sisterof John " Viscouiit Limington, (afterwards Earl of Portsmouth,) by " whom havirg no issuf, the title became extirxt, and the manor " and estate of Ribbesfoid passed u^der his father's will to his " cousin, Henry IMoiley, esq."^ — JSash's Worcesterslnre, vol. it. 271. Rilbesloid afterwards came to George Powlett, Marquis ofWin^ cheslei ; who^in 1787, sold it to Fiaiicis Inpam^ esq; of TicknelL — Id. Corrections, 83o r [ 71 1 mote, for if we ware thare on winter we shuld devore it. Baker, I hope, will bring* you to Hanslop ; for all other jornys I beleve you will disspence with this yeare, and save the hors mony to pay the leser dues. The Lady GuiTard, I here, is pretty well. Sir Willam Walter's son, the next week, is to mury the Lady Mary Taiiet, sister to the Lady Co- ventry, and I hare Walter hath promest him his estate after his death. Your dafters groe apase, and will want mony afore you can git it for them. Your loving wife, E. HERBERT. LETTER XLI. From Henry Herbert*, toJiis Father, Honoured Father, — I am h^artely glad to heare of your good health. Sir, I am very sorry to heare that you are not pleased with my epistle and verses ; and that it could not answer your expectations of me. Sir, I have made your letter into Lattin, which you sent to me. I hope to see you safe at Lyncoln-House on Satturday next. So 1 rest, your dutifull son, KENRY HERBERT. April lOth, 1667, at Lyncoln-House^ Westminster, For my honoured Father, Sir Henry Herbert, present. * Eldest son of Sir Henry Herbert, by his second wife, after- wa^fds Lord Herbert j in whom the'bairony was revived. [ 72 ] LETTER XLTI. From 11, Herbert* to the same. Most Honored Sir,— I Am much obliged to you for your last, in which you did not so severely chide me; though I must confess 1 did deserve it for the tpo presumptuous folly mine to you did assume. Since you have exc!ised it, you have obliged me beyond compare ; for folks faults, as their words, must not be too hard prest, for such violence obstructs the cure, and not promotes it. I have advized E. Herbert with the matters yours contained touching him. He is very much troubled that the bill of exchange failed^ He will suddenly redresse all ; for we both intend, God willing, to get forward for London op Mun- day next, our Christmas gamballs being done. You have the servises of this family to you, and especially from me, who am, your most affec- tionate nephew and servant^ H. HERBERT. My brother and selfe last week went to Mont- gomery to perform funeral ceremony to my Lady Brown ; who there now sleeps with her forefathers. * Brother of Edward, third Lord of Cherhury; and second son of Richard, the second Lord of Cherbyry, [ 73 ] LETTER XLIII. From the Lord Herbeut to the same. Kyssin, 1st June, 1669. Worthy Sir, — My brother Harry, as well as yourself have writ me word, that you are much taken with my Lord Ashley's sugar words. 1 pray God they tire you uot as they did my brother, and my Lord Bridge water, and have putt mee past patience, which has occasioned the enclosed to their Lordships, and they are refered for your perusall. I pray read them both, and deliver my Lord Bridgewater's first, with a sight of that to my Lord Ashley, and consult my concerns here, to effect out of hand, or else my expectations must naturally faile ; the first going over being the chief time, L submit to your better judgement. But I suppose if the Lady Dowager Exeter were instructed with his Lord- ship's delaying, sliee might more freely speake to his Lordship ; and if noe effects appeared a weeke after, I think my letter will not bee amisse, and a sharper shall follow ; and then it will be time to cast about by Mr. Secretary Trevor, if you have any acquaintance with him, or by my Lord Bridgewater's interest with the Duke of York, Thus you see me in confu- sion ; certainly if tbe King did but know my desires, they would be granted, and those that are soe slack in presenting mine, and the desires ', [ 74 3 Ik of such as I am, are not his friends, for I am honest to the Cuown. I submitt to your better judment, and am, Sir, your humble servant and nephew, HERBERT. This is the fourth since your returne to Millbank. LETTER XL IV. From Sir Henry Herbert fo^/^e Earle of Manchester.* 3Iill Bridge, Westminster^ July lo, 1669. My Lord, — The bearer hereof, Anthony Devotte informs me that Mr. Price, the sergeant trumpett, demandes of him twelve pence a day, as due to him from every player ; whereas Devotte is not in the notion of a player, but totally distinct froni that quality, and makes she we of puppettes only by virtue of his Ma- jestie's commission, granted to the Master of the Revells, under the greate seale, for authoriz- ing ail publique shewes. And the said Serjeant * Edward Montague, Earl of Manchester, Lord Chamberlain of the Houshold to Charles the 2d. He was one of the avowed patriots in the House of Peers, and the only member of that house who was accused by Charles I. of high treason, together with the five members of the House of Commons. In the civil war he had the charge of five of the associated counties; and raised an army of horse, which he commanded in his own person. After the battle of Newbury he was suspected of favouring the King's interest, accuse;d by Cromwell, and by the self-denying ordinance, deprived of his commission. He heartily concurred in the restoration of Charles II. ; and was appointed by him Lord Chamberlain. He died 5th May, 1671. — Granger, L 75 ] oiiglit not to Kiipose upon the said Devotte, and putt birti to great trouble and charges, but should have proceeded legally against him, in case Jie had refused to pi^y what was legally due. But the sergeant having arrested Devotte upon his pretended clayme of twelve pence a day, and declared against him, w^as nonsuited for not proceedinge, which is a matter of great vexation to a strong-er, and a strono:e aro^ament as-ainst the validity of the sergeantes grante. Your Lordship, therefore is humbly intreated on be- half of the said Devotte to appointe a day and houre when he shall attende your Lordship with his counsell, to be hearde before he be concluded in your Lordship's judgement. And that he may have the benefit of the law for his protection against the Sergeante's unjust de- mandes. This from your Lordship's very hum- ble servant, HENRY HERBERT. To tlie Right Hon. Edward Earle of Manchester, Lord Cham- berlayne of his Majestie's houshold. LETTER XLV. From Henry Herbert to Lady Elizabeth Hlrbert. From Trinibj College in Oxford^ Feb.Vl,\il0^l. Madam, — I am almost afrraid to presume to begibii to^writenovr, having been soe long silent; L 76 3 yet your Ladyship's pardon being desired for that which is past, I come now, presenting* my humble duty, to promisse an amendment for the time to come. Indeed time is precious, and a good use is to be made of that which is soe. Neither can there be a better use than to exer- cise industry, and to employ it in things neces- sary, beginning' first with heavenly, than pro- ceeding to our own affaires; which are, being rightly observed, noe less profitable than lawful. What! do I instruct my instructesse ? I'll forbear, learning rather that I may write the name of your obedient sonne, H. HERBERT, My kind love to my sisters, and duty to my godfather, and kind wishes to all my friends. ^^o his much honoured lady motlier, the Lady Elizabeth Her- bert. Present. LETTER XLVL From the same to the same. From my Chamber in TriJiity College^ Oxforde^ March 9, 1670—1. Madam. — If I fale in my indeavour, I hope a pardon may be gained, which is to heapc tliankes upon thankes, and yet too, too little they'll be, if I use my utmost skill, for the last received token ; which recompence, indeed, (I I 77 ] mean thankes, and my duty, obedience to be the greatest, nor will I be wanting" in the usual I ofference of the least of them,) should not be set downe with inke, but with a liquid corresponding its owne likeness, counterfeiting, though not to the full, the fore-mentioned bounty. Madam, your favours surpase my gratitude, which I shall endeavour to equalize,, though fall short, labouring alsoe to she we myself to be (which butte 1 hope to effect) according to my endea- vours, Madam, your obedient sonne, H. HERBERT. My kinde love to my sisters, and remem- brances to whome they are meet. These, for his honoured mother, the Lady Elizabeth Herbert. LETTER XLVIL From Abraham Campion* to Sir Henry Herbert. Sir, — For a father to see his son is a desire very reasonable, and has much of nature in it ; but there is something beyond nature, that might justly move you to a desire of seeing your son, whose disposition and discretion will recommend him to those that are lesse concerned in him then a father. You may discern his countenance to * " Abraham Campion, of Trinity college, Oxford, was ap^ *< pointed one of the proctors, April 9, 1673 ; and admitted moral " philosophic professor, in the place of Mr. Nathaniel Hodges, ** the 2nst November in the same year/'— 'Tfoorf'* ^Menee, vol, ii. 862. [ 78 ]. be so free from g^iiilt, as suiHcieiitly to give in an ample testimony of his innocence. The Dean of Wells is not now with us. Being* you desired a line from me, 1 was resolved to scrible you one in haste, rather then not answer your desires. Sir, yours to serve yon, ABRAHAM CAMPION. Oxon, Ang. 19, — 71. Tbese for tlie Wor. Sir Henry Herbert. LETTER XLVI1I.=^ From Ei>WARD Loud HERBERTf to the same. Dublin, 1st Jan, 1^12, Sjr, — A good New-yeare to you and yours. I could wish this may meete some letters from you, tliat may informe mee of all your healths; for now it is an age since I heard from you, or any body else out of England. You were soe constant in your favours that wa}^ that I suspect some ill newes from the French army, and that you are loath to let me know it. The miscar- * These letters, written from Ireland, by Edvcard the third Lord Herbert of Cherbury, will be read with great interest. Their reasonings and descriptions apply as strongly to that country at this time, as they applied to it 160 years ago; and force upon us the melancholy reflection, that, while all the other nations of Europe have been progressively advancing in civilization, wealth, and consideration, that country, " for which/' as Burke emphatically said, " God had done so much, and man " so little," has been morally, politically, and' physically, littlfe altered, benefited, or improved. t Grandson of the first Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, r 79 1 riao'e of tliat vouno- man would be the worst I coald heare ; but i aai a christian, and coakl submit to the worst can bee indicted on mee. I pray, Sir, bring mee out of this trouble by some comfortable newse of him. as likewise of the times and passages. There is nothing here worth notice, but that oar iord-lieutenant dines now publiquely,and by his civility gains on the better sort. The comsuons value only his money, which they say bee is too thrifty in keeping. Loves and services due, conclude mee, at thii time, Sir, your humble servant and nephew, HERBERT. LETTER XLIX. From Capt. Herbert* to the same. Nancy ^ Lorraine, Jan, 9, — 74. Most Honored Si u, — I desire you'll take care'of the enclosed, to send it according to its direction. It brings into the country the news of the death of that honest fellow that accom- panied me hither, by name Dr. John Higgins, He died in the city of Metz, 3d January, a pro- testant, and made a pious end. He was first taken with sickness at T reaves the fatal disease of our army. Itseazes on the brain first. If men have strength enough to repel its first efforts, it falls into their body, gives them the bloody fiux, or other looseness, which destroys many ; and if they escape this, it falls thence into their * Brother of Edward, third Lord Herbert, of Cherbuiy. L 80 ] leg's and feet, and rots off their toes, and sends them this way out of the world. His nature, it seems, resisted not the first fury of the disease. At the same time, another which belonged to me was thus surprized and died at Treavs ; both taken in one night, and in the same chamber where I lay, and had little service done to them, till 1 sent to the army for other servants to attend them, which 1 lef^ behind with them, and marched myselfe away with the regiment lieither to Nancy. There was nothing of care, physicke, or money wanting to them. I sup- ply 'd all this ere I parted from them; but death would not be put off at this time. It seems it was his commanding moment over nature, and she obey'd, much to my sorrowe, for he was the most honest, brave, and un- derstandinge fellovv that ever I mett with, and by his vertue had made himselfe physitian to the regiment, and saved many in thus loosing him- selfe. I imputed i1 to his perpetuall being amongst the sick ; but he is now gone, yet shall my good word ever follow him. Sir, this is all to solicite you for the Duke's; leave for me to send of hence for England. So I'll enlarge myselfe no further concerning the use that I shall make of it; but pray dispatch the leave to me severall ways, lest I should misse it. Sir, 1 am your most humble servant, H. HERBERT. My service in your family to all my most worthy relations. C Si ] LETTER L. From Lord HerberI" to tM same, Dublin, the 14:th Jan, 1672. Sir, — 'There are at this present eight packets due; and I hope, when they come, I shall hear from you, which I have not done by the three last that came in. Walcott is sent for into England as a delinquent. The truth is, what is said against him, and proved, is enough to hang him ; and yet it shall not enter into my brain, that hee has any complices, his proceedings and en- tentions beingsoecontrary to the English interest. The folly of this man has given such an advan- tadge to the whispering Irish, that, together with the Court's ill opinion of the late settled English, p'ives a sad alarme to those that are of antienter settlement, and ever of the King's party; for if ever the Irish interest pfevaile to unsettle the new English, the old will suffer in the throng, God cleare all to a right understanding. The purport of mine of the fift or sixt instant, touch- ing trade, I desire you to consider, with the best interest you can make, for the maxim of state has no good foundation, when it says, this king- iJom ?nust he kept poor i that it 7nay depend on England, Let it be rich in trade and inhabitants ^ and it will depend itpon it^ for the love of them^ selves and their own wealth. Wheras by keep- ing it continually poore, tbey, by warres and [ 82 ]• Rebellion, desi^ne to enriche themselves on their next neighbours' goods. If they were riche, they woulde study to keepe and improve their ow^ne, and would not be drawne in to the hazard of itt, and would render dependencies, just such as our English tenants to their landlords. God bless you and yours, are the prayers of your servant, HERBERT. LETTER LI. From the same to the same. Dublin f the LBth Jan, 1672. Sm,— I have received two letters from my brother in yours, which gives mee cause to re- joice, after I had despaired of his life ; and am obliged to you for the continuing mee in your memory. I pray, Sir, preserve me alive with your frequent notice of mee, and give mee your entelligence. I have writt to you the very quintessence of the state of this poore country, and offered it your interest for redresse, by your vote in Parliament, and a conversation with the Irish concerned men that are members of your owne House. There is noe newse here, but Walcott, who is sent with this pacquett for England. If there bee any truth in his affaires as they are now stated, hee could never have done the English soe much prejudice as his folly [ 83 ] has thrown on it ; arid yet that there can bee noe complices discovered, is the best argument in the world that the country is honest, I meane the English in it. I am for the country in a fort- night's time at farthest, God willing ; how long I shall stay there^ God knows. With servises to yourself and lady, good Sir, your obliged ne- phew and servantj HERBERT. If my orders miscarried for doe venison, you must take a revenge in the next buck season. LETTER Ltl. From the same to the same. Duhliii^ 20th Jan. 1672. SiRj— Yours of the 9th inst. came to my hands this day^ with a letter from my brother ; who, I perceive^ is in health, in the midst of sickness. God continue him healthy, and send him well amongst us ; and if with honor hee may lay aside his command and marry^ it would bee good newse ; but I dare not advise 'twixt love of family and reputation. You were but idly employed hitherto: now there is something for the councills of the nation to act : God send you unanimous when you meet, an4 not to scruple at a small inconvenience to our purses, in this time, when the honor and welfare of the king aftd kingdom are at stake. If the French King pro- Gr 2 [ 84 ] ceeds in his conquests, and our King not in condition to hold him to his capitulations with him, wee shall be undone at home, and ridi- culous abroad; and doe not question but the French King will evade and impose, if the King has not money. Whether a land-tax, or general excise, is the question of fools, A land- tax will be very pernicious to the landlords, by disheartening the tenants, and indeed give them opportunity to impose on the landlords as to accounts, and price of lands. But it will be the wisest way for to advance the King money, with less loss, for his occasions ; the way of raising it, and the certain way, being soe well known. The generall excise will bee ea5»ist for the gen- try ; though it will be a buggbeare to a free- born Englishman, and a way the King will I'eceive but an uncertain supply in this exigent j of time; the bankers in the city having got such | a way of imposing upon the King in all new | things, untill they are better understood. And certainly, in my poof opinion, at long run, this I way will prove not only of less inconvenience, ' but an advantage to the gentry, and to cor- porations and towns now utterly wasted for want of trade. It will, indeed, change the way of living in England to a mere forraine way ; for it will drive all the gentry that can't brook the touch of their cellars, into the most conve- nient towns to their own estates, where they shall buy in the market what they need, and of £ 8o 1 the brewer, who must bee the comon under- taker; 'twill enrich and fill all waste houses, encreas trade, and, instead of lessening* the gentry, give them a popular interest in the se- verall towns they live in. *Tis true it will be an occasione of ruine to many good houses ; but it will likewise be the occasion of bettering many villages, and making them grow to bee great towns, with markets and fairs. There is very much more to be said, foy it will be asked, what shall spend the produce of the land when hos- pitallity is laid aside by the gentry ? I will answer that — the pride of a trader, yes, and sta- billity to ; that any tradesman that has £:2000 stocke and credit, shall waste in his famely more food and \yearing-apparell yearly, than any landed man that has £6090 worth of lands, having noe incom nor trade, but his rents. I'll say noe more on this large subject, but that my opinion is more for home excise, for the good of the kingdom, than for a land-tax; and more for a land-tax at this present for the King's imme- diate supply. Servises where due to you and yours, I am, your obliged nephew and servant, HERBERT. LETTER LITI. Fj'om the same to the same. Dublin, 26th Jan. 1072. Sir, — Your short letter, with one in it fiom my brother Harry, then in Nancy, came to C 86 ] hand last night. The times are not soe fickle as the proverb would make them, You heard from us of this world, daily, for two months allmost, and we'eve not a word from yours, for eight pacquets come together j now wee beare from you, and our letters vrill not sail against the wmd. A world of your members are gon aboard this evening, in hopes; and Mr. Henry Howard, who has many letters of mine to you and others. Sir, if I doe riot write sence, lay it not to my charge as a fault, for I have not slept these four nights and days, being troubled with such a cold and defluction of rheum, that if the country cures mee not, which 1 attempt to get into to-morrow, and soe for Kerry, yon may conclude me dead in a short time. God iitt mee for the change. I pray excuse me to my brother, if I doe not write at this time. I can hardly hold up my head or see, say to him ; I apa wonderfully sorry for the losse of his honest Higgins; and^ if 1 durst say it, I would have my brother come and stay in Eng- land, and marry. With services where due in your famely circle, your affectionate nephew, HEEBERT. I heaiie the person is married to the Lord Mohun. There, small nesse and remotenesse of estate was noe obstacle ; it was ngly selfe, and civilly excuseck r 87 ] LETTER LIV. From the same to the same. Castle Island, ISth Feb. 1672. Sir, — Yours of the28th Jan. has been in my hands this fortnight at least, and not answered till now that I am arrived at this place, which I could wish you had seene in the order it is now, for I think it a compleat house fitt to receive any nobleman, I wish I had such a one in Lymore Park, or at Cherbury, The longer I stay here, the better enabled I shall bee to make such a one at my returne. Be pleased to direct your letters for mee, to Mr. Worburton, the postmaster of Dublin care, and they will find mee. You write mee not that the Lady Bridges is married to my Lord Mohun, which I hear from other hands. Shee has the younger man, but I know who has the better estate nearest to London. Now it will bee lawful I, and noe ill manners to looke out for advantage. That concerning the Earle of Northampton I wonder not much at. There is no newse stirring here, but that since the King ordered the lord-lief- tenant to issue out a proclamation, to settle the minds of his English subjects, the natives have been a little out of countenance. Loves and servises as due, and soe I rest your obliged 4^ephewe and servant, HERBERT. [ S8 ] LETTER LV. From the same. Castle Island, the '20th Feb, 1672. Sir, — Now I am beyond the tempter's reach, (viz. the lord-lieftenant,) I shall hardly leave you a weeke unsaluted, though I have nothing else to say. The more I consider this place, the more I like it, and wish I had had my ovvne will at my Lord of Ormondes first coming over; but it is better late than never, and tho I banish myself my native country, and my acquaintance, yet am I in my vocation; my birth-right concerns. The more I look on my house, the more I like it; and if my brother Henry comes over, 1 could wishmycosen Henry, your son, would beare him company. Hee'le run noe more hazard than my owne visible heire. They will neither of them give an ill report of the country at theire returne; possibly Slevelogher will be trouble- some, but with a guide there is no danger. Excuse me to my brother, that I write not to him this post, 1 writ the last. Receive and distribute my servises and love in your famely; and soe I rest your aifectionate nephew and servant, HERBERT. [ 89 ] LETTER LVI. From the same to the same. Sir, — I had not time to welcome myselfe home with one glasse of drinke, ere your letter for money was delivered mee, which I tooke care to comply with, and all before I dranke ^ for I sent a servant with the fifty pounds due to my brother last Lady-day, to Lloydd, the carrier of fowles, who has undertaken the payment of it in London, as you shall perceive by the en- closed : and then for your thirty pounds, I shall be sure upon the day to send it and a buck to Kibsford. Be pleased to write your acquittance at the bottom of the enclosed, and that I may receive it by the carrier. With my services to yourself and lady, and my good cosens, I rest. Sir, your humble servient and nephew, UthJuhj,\Q12. HERBERT. LETTER LVII. From the same to the same, Dublin, the I9th Dec. 1672. Sir, — If the w'inds prove not favourable, (of the changes of which wee have newse from the postmaster's notice,) 'tis not to be imputed to mee that you heare not more frequently from mee. There have three pacquets come from i 90 ] England, and not one word from you or any body else, which makes mee looke upon myself as a forlorne vagabond. 'Twould bee acceptable to heare from Andrew Newport at his leisure, which, to soe reddy a writer as himself, will hardly take up two minutes time. This bee pleased to say to him, I presume you will not fail me in this point. We have noe newse in Ireland, but that Walcott continues still a pri- soner of state; and on his account the governors and officers doe stricter duty in the garrisons and quarters. Ourlord-lieftenant keepes his army in excellent order, and for the number of them they are as good as any in the world. Our lord lieftenant grows stronger, and in better health. The marchants of this kingdom find soe much hazard at sea, that they move for to have some friggatts assigned them for convoys; and being soe reasonably modest as to offer to maintain them at theire own charge, it is pitty but they should thrive in their request. Services where due in your family, and accept the wishes of a merry Christmas to you all. I am, Sir, your humble servant and nephewe, HERBERT. I could wish my brother at home in London, but I feare the active posture of the armies will not afford him sufficient leasure fpr English brawne, and plum pottage. [ 91 ] LETTER LVIIL From C^/9^. Herbert^ to the same. At Liege, the 24th Aug, 1672; Stilo Novo/ Most Honored Sir, — I am confident the time seemes long' since you received my lines. But there is this reason for it, when we rose from before Bar-le-duc, the army divided into small brigades for the benefit of marching ; and ours, which consisted of three thousand horse, came to Mastick, and have laine there confronting the foe this three weeks. We dayly beat them into the town, and have incessant skirmiches with them. This little body of men had not the honour of having a post to attendit,till now that the King's houshold is added to nas, consisting of 8000 horse ; and though I have the opportunity of writing to you, yet I expect not of hearing from you; neither can I give you directions how to send, more positive, than to the camp before Mastick, commanded by Monsieur Rochford. We expect Turenne up with another army. When that appears, 'tis to be thought we may attack it by way of siege. Hitherto we have done nothing but destroyed their forage about the town. We have encamped very close by the walls, their canon having done execution on us severall times. I begin to wish the towne * Brother of Lord Edward Herbert.— ^^e Lttter liii. [ 92 ] ours, that we may come to winters quarters, and 606 have convenience of coming for England. In this towne of Leige there is a priory of Jesuits, English, and a monastery of English nuns, both which I have visited. The women are handsom, and the men civil. Having engaged me to dine with them to-day, I shal here taste whether the Roman victualls be not more pleasant than their tenets. I expect this day's work will afford me a whole pacquett of observations. Sir, I shall trouble you noe farther at this time, I am tinfeignedly your most obliged and obedient, H. HEKBERT. Excuse me, I pray, to those that inquire after me, that I doe not write; but acquaint them that I am well, and at their service. LETTER LIX. From the same to the same. Neare Bonne, the residence of the Bishope of Colen, Nov. 1st 1C72. Honok'd Sir, — I received two letters from you lately; one speaks of £50 from my brother, which he sent up to you;' I have than|^t him. I'll assure you I shall be as poore as Job when 1 come over, and will endeavour to live a la soldate, rather than trQu^le yoii. I have con- [ 93 ] tinually wHtt to yoa, and the way your last letters came are certain enough, I think; but be careful what you write, only I desire you'd impart common nevvse, I think it may not displease, if I give you a journal of our marched from Mastrich, whence we decamped August 30th toMaseric ; 5th Sept. to Graves, there pass'd the Meaux; 6th, to Juniper; 7th, to Cleaves, the Ducal city, whence our uxorious King Henry VIII. had one of his eight wives; 9th, to Wesel, and pass*d the Rhine by bridge of boats; 10th, to Mulheim, on the river Roir, where we first, this year, lay under cover, men and horses; we call it forage quarters, being till this time en- camped in the open field; 24th, to Agilkirk; 29th, to Geselkirk ; 30th, to Netwick. From Wesel, the right wing of our army kept close to the Rhine, and still march up the stream. 2d Oct. we pass'd Keyserwert, where we came over in the spring; 5th, at Cranberge ; 6th, the whole army, 40,000, passed by DusseldorlF. The resi- dence of the Duke of Newberg (whose country we spoil this turn) lyes on the Rhine ; little, but pretty; the fortifications regular, but are finish- ing at this time. I saw him in the towne ; hii§ Court is not splendide. His pretending to be King of Poland made him run in debt to the French, which is not yet paid ; and it may be supposed that the King of France pays himselfe by foraging his army on the country. 7th, at Mulheim; hence I went to Colon, a large town C 94 1 of great trade, but few gentry to be seen in it, which makes it not so agreeable to the eye. The 9th, at Orback, and lay there till the 28th; then march*d to Blankenberge, where we now are. We pass'd the river Leige three times in this march. We on the left wing are thrust up amonge the boors, where we give and receive much damage, being ever most exposed of the whole army, by lying near the brutish foe. We quarter at present within musket shot of their guards, who make us watchfull. These destroy the country before us, and flanke us soe close, that we pay dearly for our victuall oft-times; yet necessity tells us it must be had, for our pay can't maintain us, nor doe their orders confine us in this. They have barriers on their great passes, and trenches to defend them, well lin'd with boores ; and they relieve their guard, and doe things as confidently and orderly as the most disciplined army. We march to day this Nov. 1st. They tell us we shall leave Coblentz, and march directly for Frankford, and thence to Strassburghe, and soe pass into Lorain, being then within 7 leagues. Keceive my best love and service, and present it. I'm your servant^ H. HERBERT. [ 95 ] LETTER LX. From T. Offley to the same, Nov. 2'2d, —73. Deare Cousen, — The hopes of seiug you here caused my silence, nor cati I be satisfied, iintill you let me heare from you when you will give me the happiness of your company. The great news here at present is the coming of the Duke*. The Parliament of Scotland hatU voted severall grievances ; Duke Lotherdell is the occation : itt's thought he will be put out of commistion. Eight hundred of Sir Will Lockier's men going for France, taken and car- ried into Holland. My mother this day gon to my sister Lawrence's. My sister Sa. hath beea withhir five weeks, and stayeth tell my sister is brought to bed. If any thinge I can doe here for you, pray lett me know, and you will oblidge your affectionate kindsman to command, THO. OFFLEY. Pray, my services to aunt and cousens. LETTER LXr. From the Rev, John Boraston§'^o Henrt Herbert, Esq; Worthy and Hopepuli^ Sm, —Your letter of May 6 I received May 9, in the after- * Duke of York, afterwards James II. ^ Wood makes meEliaa of one George Boiaston, of "W^adham college, author of '* the Eoyal Law, or the Goldeu RuIq of Jus* [ 96 ] noone, wherein you confirme what I heard before, the death of your deare father. Death is certain, and appohited to all ; our dayes are determined, monthes numbered, and boundes unpassable sett. The Lord gave him the bles- singe of long life, and, we hope, a blessed death after old age, which is a crowne of glory, being- found in the way ofrighteousnesse ; and a crowne of glory in heaven is layd up for such an hoary righteous head. The blessedness of our deare deceased relations is handkerchiefe enoug^h to dry our eyes; and the will and act of the Almighty, sufficient to measure our mourn - inge, as men of hope, which is allowed by, and will be pleasing to him who hath done it. tice and Charity/' and of a Sermon, preached at the anniversary meeting of the gentlemen, inhabitants of London, and others, born within the county of Worcester, 29th Nov. 1683; and adds that his father vpas minister of Bewdley, in the same county. (A then. Oxon. vol. it. 787. J The author of the above letter, Mr. John Boraston, held this preferment for many yearsr, but not under the most comfortable circumstances. For a long time he, was engaged in a troublesome tithe cause witli Sir H. Herbert. From the oath (a copy of which is given in the Ap- pendix) administered to him early in the war between the King and Parliament, it should seem that his allegiance was suspected by the Royal party; and from the articles exhibited against him by his parishioners, (Append.) it is clear that he was known, and disliked by them, as a Royalist. If in consequence of these charges, he was dispossessed of his benefice, (which was most likely the case,) he was rewarded by living to see the restoration, and to resume again the preferment he had lost. See Appendix, John Boraston was prebendary of Hereford; rector of Ribbes- ford 58 years ; and died 29th Dec. 1688, aged 85. He lies buried at Ribbesford. He was succeeded in the rectory by Ajathonj Lucas, presented by Henry Herbert, esq. [ 97 ] A burgesse's place for Parliament is now voide, in reference wliereunto I shall neither make excuse nor other apologie for what I have done, but laying the truth before you, and I hope your ingenuity will determine me unworthy blame. On Saturday Aprill 12, a speciall friend of Mr. Tho. Foley, senior, wrote to me, that Sir Henry Herbert was under a remodel esse distemper, and that it would be most acceptable to Mr, Foley to be our succeedinge burgesse, though Mr. Foley would not, himselfe, move whiles Sir H. Herbert was livinge. I assured ray assistance, in a letter, by the messenger; and going about noone into the towne, to present the motion to Mr. BayliiFe, he shewed me a letter requesting the succession for you, of which I heard nothing before. I spake with others of the twelve that daye, and in fewe wordes, dis- coursed both your desires, without asking for promise or hand of any one person that day or since. Mr. Foley, hearing of Sir H. Herbert's death, came to Bewdley May 5, and lighting at the George, desired the company of those that have votes: many came ; they dined with him; and after dinner he expressed his desire to them ail, which seemed to me to be generally approved of; Mr. BaylifFe, and some who gave hands for you, were not there. Thus far I have been true to my promise : to be true to which, were it your owne case, 1 knowe you will commend. Sir Henry Littleton sent Mr. Bowles, May 2d, H I 98 ] to me witli the same motion ; yet, with my much respect to the worthy knight, I assured him of my promise for Mr. Foley. When I can, and shall, promise, in any speciall affaire, to serve you, I shall (GoB willing) approve myselfe most faithfull. I hope shortly to waite uppon you at Ribsford, to bid you welcome thither, and to be welcome there. Sir, I am your hum- ble servant in what justly I may, JOHN BORASTON. My humble respects to your lady mother, and your young ladyes. LETTER LXIL From Lord Newport to H. Herbert, EsqJ'' Eytouy 20th Aug, 73. Good Cosen, — Yours of the 6th sent to London, came to my hands on Monday last, p. * Mr. Herbert did not succeed in his canvas at this time ; Thos. Foley, the elder, being returned member for Bewdley. He was more fortunate, however, a few years afterwards, as may be gathered from the following letter from the Rev. Mr. Lucas, to whom Mr. Herbert had given the living of Ribbesford, on the demise of Mr. Boraston : " Bewdley, 3d March, 1689—90. "Hon. Sir, — ■! have just time, being amongst your friends, " to signifye to you, that you are unanimously chosen the repre- " sentative of Bewdley. I heartily congratulate it, and assure "you that all things were performed with decency ; and, I hope, « to all people's satisfaction. Mr. Foley and Mr. James weie I 99 ] poste, and not before; the letter it was enclosed in should have come a weeke sooner alsoe; by what uiischanceit did not, I cannot tell. I was at Areiy the next day after you writ your lettere. I have sent you notes inclosed to the persons you desire; I wish they may not come too late ; and but to satisfye you, I should not have let my name be exposed at this tyme, for I doe not love to play after games, especially w^here there is not a probability of prevailing*; but I cannot denye you any thing-, being, Sir, your very affectinate and humble servant, NEWPORT- To my much-hononred Cosen, Henry Herbert, esq;^ at Ribes- ford in Worcestershire. (Endorsed.)— A cooy of the Notes sent to William Wood and Thomas Weaver. '* present; the latter obliges me to present you with his humble " service. Accept of mine, as likewise to my lady andlittle Mister. " I am, Hon. Patron^ your most faithfull and most obliged servant, " ANTHONY LUCAS. " For Henry Herbert, esq; at the Lady Herbert's, in Leicester- " fields, London." From the following list, in the Introduction to Dr. Nash's History of Worcestershire, of the members for Bewdley, it should seem that Mr. Herbert was returned for that borough two years before the dateof the above letter — 1661, Sir Henry Herbert; 16?3, Thomas Foley, the elder, esq; 1679, Philip Foley, esq; 1680, Philip Foley, esq; 1685, Sir Charles Lyttleton; 11th January, 1688, Henry Herbert, esq; 3d January, 1690, Henry Herbert, esa: after- wards Lord Herbert of Cherbury. From 1694 to 1705, Salway Wimiington, esq; — 13th May, V708, Henry Herbert, esq; — 2d March, 1708, Charles Cormvall, in the room of H. Herbert, esq; $;alled to the House oi Peers on the death of hk iathfir. h2 [ 100 ] I desire you will give your voice to my cosen, H. Herbert, esq; to elect him burgesse of Par- liament for Bewdley, which will be taken kindly by your loveing friend, Eyton, 20th Aug. 1673. NEWPORT. LETTER LXIII. From Henry Herbert, Esq; to the Right Hon. ^S'lr Edward Turner.* Ilibsford,Sept.SO,—'73. My Lord, — The countinance your Lord- ship w^as pleased to give me lately at the asseizes, and the faire respect you had for my deare father, incourage me to make this tender of a request to your Lordship, by a servant*s hands, who is sent on purpose ; the main cause of which being a command layed on me by my father on his death-bed, to endeavour to succeed iiim in Parliament, which, by your Lordship's as- sistance, I doubt not to bring to a fair issue: For Mr. Thomas Foley, senior, my antagonist in this election, for burgesse of Bewdley, to sit in Parliament, although a non-conformist, may be a sherifFe for Worcestershire, fit in severall re- * Sir Edward Turner was Speaker of the House of Commons in 1670; but being made Chief Baron of the Exchequer, was succeeded in the office of Speaker^ by Sir Job Carleton, 4th Feb. 1072. . r 101 3 aspects, which are well knowne to your Lordship. He stands nominated, in the booke of the clerk of the assizes, amongst the persons that are to be presented to your Lordship, and the other judges, for the yeare ensewing; and if your Lordship will be pleased to require Mr. Parker not to alter his list, which I am informed Foley endeavours, it will be a great furtherance in my businesse, and an obligation to, my Lord, your Lordship's most humble servant, H. HERBERT. For the Right Hon. Sir Edward Turner, Lord Chiefe Baron. LETTER LXIV. From Charles Cornwallis to Heni^y Herbert, Esq. ^ SthNov.l67S. Sir, — I give you many thankesfor your kind letter sent me by Mr. Vaughan, and doe assure you, I shall ever be ready to ingage all my interest to serve you in this or any other afFayer. I heartily wish I had been sooner informed of your pretensions at Bewdley, which came to my knowledge by meere chance. If I had, it is possible I might have done you some service. The Parliament was prorogued upon Tuesday last untillthe 7th ofjauuary next, by which meanes [ 102 1 the writ sent downe is invalid; of this I had given yon notice sooner, had I not been under a great indisposition, and at present am not well. If hereafter you conceive I may, by any interest I have, serve you, in this affayre, be pleased to comand, Sir, your most faithful! servant, CHAS. CORNWALLIS. I pray present my humble service to my good lady your mother, and to your sisters. For Henry Herbert, esq; at Ribsford,neare Bewdley, Worces- tershire. — ^Frauck, Charles Cornwallis. LETTER LXV. From Henry Herbert, Esq; to Charles Cornwallis, Esq. Ribsford, Nov, 17, nod, Sm, — Yours of the 8th of this m on the is re- ceived, which makes out a great deal of kind- nesse for me, and a readinesse in you to adde to your promises performances; which I have no reason in the lest to suspect, you having already given me no small indices of your good disposition. The newes of an indisposel you laboured under was very ungratefuil to me ; and I hope by this time your health is returned [ 103 3 to its proper manner. The generality of your acquaintance, gained by your owne worth, will be of advantage to me, you having assured me of your interest. If the Parliament had not been prorogued, I designed for London the last weeke; but shall very sincerely returne you personall thankes for your favours sliewne to, Sir, your most obliged servant, 11. HERBERT. My mother conveys her best service to you. LETTER LXVr. From Sir Francis Winnington to H. Herbert, Esq. Sir, — The affaire between e vou and Mr. Boraston, together with some private concernes of mine owne, hathdelaied my journey for a day or two, but to-morrow certainly I goe for Lon- don: therefore I have sent the messenger on purpose with the articles, which, if 3^ou and Mr. Boraston will give creditt to me, I have drawn up as aifectually as I can, according to your agreement and intention. But before 1 would have it ingrossed, I thought it convenient you should see it ; and if neither of you can send me a reason to alter it, I will have it ingrossed, and send it to you from mee to-morrow. Bee pleased to let Mr. Boraston have a view of it, [ 104 1 and returne it backe by the same messenger to Sir, your most humble servant, FRA. WINNINGTON. Stanford Court, 29th Sept, —74. My humble service attends your lady mother. To my highly honored friend — Herbert, esq; at Ribsford, neare Bewdley, present. LETTER LXVII. I^rom Monsieur de la Place^ to the same, \ London, Feb, 4, 1678. Sir,— This is to convey into your hands these enclosed, which I had this night from my Lady. You shall have with them the Gazette, which containes the home and foreigne news, such as we have, for the times are very barren. The Dutch post is wanting for above a fortnight, though the wind hath been good most part of that time, which makes men think that soni other reason than the weather is the cause of it. * Monsieur de la Place was, probably, one of the many French Protestants, v/ho quitted France during the cruel persecution against that great body of unfortmiate people, which was in- stituted by Cardinal Richelieu, and consummated in the famous revocation of the edict of Nantes. He seems to have been re- tained by Mr. Herbert, as an humble friend, and political jackal ; who was to vvatch, search out, and communicate to his employer, during his residence in the country, every political movement in these eventful and agitated times. The letters of this intelligent Frenchman which follow are highly interesting, as they aflord many very curious circumstances of minute history, which are not mentioned by any of our historians. [ 105 ] Wee have a French post, which saith but little. Here 3^011 shall fiade alsoe an order of the coun- cill, which pleaseth the people very well. But if yon think it cometh late to your hands by the date of it, blame me not for that, for it came abroad but this day. All our talk now is about the election of Parliament men for West- minster; wee thoug'ht to have Sir Tho. Clarg'is for one, but som think he will hardly stand or contest, if it cost much. Sir Wm. Waller was lookt upon for one, but I heare he was taken the other day upon an execution. But Capt. Ar- nold, the brewer, stands fairest of all for it, having" a great party in Westminster, Here we long" to heare how affaires goe in your parts, which, if you please to impart, you shall oblige. Sir, your most humble and obedient servant, J3AN.de LAPLACE. LETTER LXVIII. Froin the same to the same, London^ Oct, 26, 1678. Sill, — Last night I received the basket my Lady was pleased to send to me; and I entreate you that she may find here, with my humble service, my humble and hearty thanks for my good pye. Mrs. Lloyd had her pan this morn-- jng; and Mrs. Strong shall have her cheese [ 106 ] when she pleaseth. Sir Henry Littleton pre- sents his service to you, and to all the ladyes and should be glad to see you here. This morning* I delivered your letter to my Lord Newport, who, having- read it, told me he would give you an answer by this post. Sooner I could not give it him, though I spent yester- day all the day in way ting for an opportunity; and though I spoke with him at the doore of the Lords' house, yett would he not heare me, nor take the letter; he was in such haste he w^ould speake with nobody. Your presence in the Parliament is as neces- sary as ever it can be. The life of the K., the state of the kingdom, and our religion, lying all at stake. Your friends doe wish yon here, as Dr. Offley, Capt. Herbert, Sir Heo. Littleton, and others, and doe wonder at your absence. The Parliament seems to take to heart the business of the plot*, more than the Councill did, and act m it more vigorously. They have * When the minds of men were in the disposition which sach a state of things was naturally calculated to produce, it is not to be wondered at, that a ready, and, perhaps, a too facile, belief should have been accorded to the rumour of a Popish plot. But with the largest possible allowance for the just apprehensions which were entertained, and the consequent irritation of the country, it is wholly inconceivable how such a plot as that brought forward by Tongue and Gates could obtain any general belief. Nor can any stretch of candour make us admit it as probable, that all who pretended a belief of it did seriously maintain it. There are cases where reason speaks so plainly, as to make all argument drawn from authority of no avail ; and this is surely one of them. Not to mention correspondence by post, on the [ 107 j sat upon the examination of Oates§ most part of this week, and som dayes till 12 at night. Thursday last the Commons sent for my Lord Chief Justice, and told him they had there before them a man who had discovered a plot against the Ring's person and the State, and who did charge with treason severall persons of a high rank, not yett apprehended. He knew his doty, and they wisht him to doe what did belong to his place on that occasion. Where- upon my Lord tooke Oates in a chamber by, and gave him his oath ; upon which, havino* subject of Regicide, detailed commissions from the Pope, silver bullets, &c. &c. and other circumstances equally ridiculous, we need only advert to the part attributed to the Spanish Gov era- ment in this conspiracy, and to the alkged intention of mmder- ing the King, to satisfy ourselves that it was a forgery. jFqx's History, ^c. p. 31. The alleged objects of the plot were three- fold; 1, to kill the King; 2, to subvert the Government; aad, 3, to extirpate the Protestant religion, and establish Popery: and the promoters and abettors of it were said to be, Pope Innocent the XI.; several Cardinals and Jesuits; La Chaise, confessor to Louis XIV.; the Lords Petre, Powis, Beilasis, Arundel of War- dour, Stafford, and several other persons of quality. § Titus Oates, a clergyman of the Church of England, but wild in his religious principles, and infamous in his morals. " In the " year 1677, being abandoned, and in want of common necessaries, " he fell into the acquaintance of Dr. Israel Tonge, a city divine, '' a man of letters, and a prolific head, full of variety of projects, *' and scarce ever without a pen in his hand, and a plot in his " head." — Eckard. Of Dr. Tonge, Oates became the willing in- strument; and having spent some time among the Jesuits and Papists, at home and abroad, he brought his materials to his employer ; who, with his assistance, framed the papers or nar- ratives delivered by Tonge to the King and the Lord Treasurer Derby.- — Burnet; and Rapin, v. iuQ^d* L 108 ] named several Lords, he issued out his warrants for the apprehension of the following* Lords: Arundell, Powitz, Bellassis, Peters, Stafford, and Sir George Wakeman. That night the two first and the last were apprehended, and carried to the Gate-house; in the morning there was a hott debate in the House of Lords about the priviledges of their members, as if they had been violated in the imprisoning of the said lords in that manner. But it soon appeared that all was done legally. The other lords, I heare, have been apprehended since, and the Lord Castle- maine. The Lord Baltimore is also charged with the plot ; but whether he be in England, or his government Maryland, I know not. The city of London keepes very strong guards; but I doe not heare that any are kept here. To-day the city sent to the King, to offer him to raise the traine-bands for the security of his person ; but I heare it was not accepted. Great newes from beyond sea. Stralsund is taken, surrendered to the Elector of Brande- bourgh the 22d instant. His batteries being finished, he battered the city with bombes and hot bullets, which did sett it on fire, which could not be quenched, and burnt allmost all the city in two dayes. After the first day, the citizens would have surrendered ; but it was not in their power. Tiie Swedes had seized their posts, when they went to quench the fire. The se- cond day the Swedes surrendered, and are to [ 109 ] march off for Swedland, with all the cannon and morter-piece belonging to the King of Swed- land. The city keepes its ancient priviledges. In haste I remaine, Sir, your most obedient servaiit, D. DE LA PLACE. These for Henry Herbert, esq; a Member of the House of Commons, at Ribsford, to be left at the Post-house in Bewdley. LETTER LXIX. From the same to the same, London, Oct. 29, 1678. Sir, — This is to convey unto you the in- closed. I thought I should have had one or two proclamations more to send you, about the fast, and the banishing of Papists out of London ; but they are not yett com out. The King did not goe to-day to my Lord Mayor's feast, as he had promised when h^ was first invited. He seemes to fear a little more the plott than at first, whether it be by reason of greater discoveryes, or out of -compliance with the Parliament; for St. James's Park is not accessible as formerly, and the doors the courtiers had in it are stopt. Besides, w hen the . King goes out, he goes better guarded. This day, alsoe, he accepted the trained bands, but how far 1 know not y for the Commons, in their addresse to him, had demanded them for th^ [ no 1 g^yard of Whitehall, and of the Parliament during this session. Gates and Tonge have been exaniined by the Commonrs, and then by the Lords; and five lords have been sent to examine Coleman.''*' The papers of examination of Gates and Tongue about the plot, and the fire of London, at the desire of the Commons have been sent to them. Because the papers of Langhornef (of whom I spoke formerly) are many, a committee is ap» pointed to examine them. Yesterday, the Duchess of Mazarine§ was e{!^amined before the King and Council, but what was the result I know not. * Edward Coleman was secretary to the Duke of York. Bur- net says^ that he had a whole day to make his escape, and had conveyed all his papers out of the way ; only he forgot a drawer under the tahle, in which papers relating to 1674 and 5 were left. Had he withdrawn all his papers, nothing had appeared : had h& left all, it might have been concluded that the whole secret lay in them. He was tried, condemned, and executed. t Another person apprehended under charge of being con- cerned in the plot. § Hortense Manchini was, by permission of Lewis XIV. heiress to the title, arms, and estates of her uncle, the famous Cardinal Mazarine ; all which she transferred, by a marriage contract, to the Duke of Meilleraye, whom she espoused. She possessed every qualification that could inspire love, and appears to have been very susceptible of that passion herself. Having quarrelled with the Duke her husband, she came to England, flushed with the conquests she had made in her own country. She had evidently a design upon Charles 11. and was regarded as a most formidable rival to the Duchess of Portsmouth. It is said, that the disco- very of an intrigue, in which she imprudently engaged soon after she came over, prevented her gaining the ascendant in the royai t 111 3 The' Ring having understood that two friars,, charged with the plot, are ver}^ sick,^their seizure is forborne. Yesterday a house in Spitalfields was a fire, but soone quenched ; after which a match wds found in the roome. Some tooke notice of a suspicious fellow, who had been seene larking thereabouts some dayes before. Upon search he was apprehended, and about him was found €70 in gold, and £10 in silver, though he was in very poore and pitiful clothes. He had taken a very poore lodging hard by, and in it they found a naked sword under his pillow^, and a dagger. At first he pretended not to under- stand English, French, or Latin; but at last, finding himself in danger, he writt a letter in Latin to Mr. Hill, formerly a minister in Hol- land, and whom I suppose you know; who being come to him, knew him for a Jesuit or friar, whom he had seen in Flanders or Holland. Whether guilty of any thing or not, I know not yett. This story is true. The bill for excluding the Papists from sitting in either House of Parliament is past thq Commons. The letters from Holland say, that the am^ bassadors of the Emperor and of the Dnke of favour. The Kin^, however, assigned her an annual pension of £4000. She lived many years at Chelsea ; where her house was daily resorted to by the witty, the gallant, and the polite. Among these, St EvrcmQiid was her avowed admirer. She died 2d July, 1699. [ H2 ] Loraine, at Nimeguen, had accepted of tlie peace upon the termes proposed by the French last winter. This is all at present from, Sir, your most humble and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. LETTER LXX. From the same to the same. London, Oct. 31, 1678. Sir, — I Doe now expect you every day, having told you by two former letters how necessary it was you should be here in Parliament. You may imagine that som will make no good con- struction of your absence. This night was buried Sir Edm. Godfrey* in St. Martin's church, with a sermon, and an ex- traordinary concourse of people. My Lord Sunderland is come home from France, and with him came Sir Ellis Leighton, * Sir Edmonbury Godfrey, an upright and able magistrate, who had exerted himself in the detection of the Popish plot, and sworn Gates to his narrative, was found murdered in a ditch, near London, on the 17th of October, 1678. The bloody deed was first attributed to the Catholics ; and some few years afterwards, (when that interest became paramount under James II.) to the Protestants. — Rapin. His funeral was solemnized with great •pomp: seventy-two clergymen preceded the corpse, which was followed by a thousand persons, most of them of rank and emi- nence. Dr. William Lloyd, dean of Bangor, and afterwards bishop of Worcester;, preached the sermon. [ 113 1 who was no sooner ashore at Dover, but was elapt up, and since brought up to Newgate. His crime is said to be, his bringing letters to the plotters, and having received an abbey in France. The Parliament is busie every day in the ex- amination of the plott, and are gon so high, that they are almost at a stand ; and thence it is, as people imagine, that the Parliament begins now to goe more slowly and warily than at first, in imitation of the Councill. Coleman, in his examination, would excuse himselfe upon his master, as if he had done nothing but by his order. You have here in the Gazette the proclamation for the fast, which, though it was ordered the 25th, cam out but yesterday. That against the Papists is not come out yett. Your most humble and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. LETTER LXXI. From the same to the same, London, Nov. 5, 1678. Sir, — I know you expect not only the Gazette but other small papers alsoe, which may inforrae you, and therefore Idoe sende you these enclosed, with a few of my own collections. I '[ 114 3 What I told you in my last concerning my Lord Arundell is true; that the Commons voted to proceed against him, by way of impeachment. What hath been done towards the disarming of Papists, doth not satisfye the Commons, and therefore in one of their addresses to the King, they desire the Papists may be disarmed. In another addresse they desire that the King would issue out a proclamation for the discover- ing and apprehending these three conspirators, viz ; Bedingfield, the Duke's confessor, Simons, and Cateway, priests or Jesuites. They desire, alsoe, that the King would sett a guard upon Whitbread, provincial! of the Jesuits, now sick in the house of the Spanish ambassador, and on another. The roofe of the House of Commons is in danger to fall, and therefore they are thinking to remove themselves where the King shall appoint. Somthiog having been said in the House of Lords against the Popish regiment, though it was not said which, the Duke of Monmouth tooke it for hisj and said he would consent to the disbanding of his regiment. The King hath at length consented to the desire of the Parliament, for raising the trained bands, and accordingly some regiments were up to-day in those parts. Besidei^i which, severall troopes of horse, and companies of foot, of the King's forces, were alsoe in armes, and moving about Whitehallj St. James, and other places [ 115 ] thereabouts. A companie of the armed bands keeps a guard to-night in pur fields, where there are two bonfires. In the House of Lords much hath been said against the Duke of Yorke, in his presence. My Lord Shaftesbury began, and was backt by the Lords Halifax, Essex, one more, and the Bishop of London. In the House of Commons they moved for an addresse to the King, for reraoveing the said Duke of Yorke out of his presence and counsels ; the further debate whereof v^as adjourned till Friday after the 7th. of November, perhaps, upon the words of Se- cretary Williamson, who told the house that they had noe need to trouble themselves about that, for the said Duke ^vas resolved to with- draw according to the proclamation. The Commons havinge desired the King to give them Coleman, as to life and death: to life, if he would make a further and satisfactory dis- covery of the plot, and to death, without reprieve or pardon, if he would not : it was granted by the King^ under his hand. Which the Commons having, they sent three or four of their members to examine the said Coleman, to shew him the addresse of the House, and the King's grant or warrant accordingly, putting before him life or death, as aforesaid. To which he answered, that he had discovered all that he knew. Som say that he would have retracted what he had said, concerning^ his master : but he acknow- I 2 [ 116 ] iedged that he had received moneys of France and Spain, to carry on the Catholic religion's interest ; and added, that he was soe unhappy, to have discovered so much as would hang* him, but could not save his life. A Committee hav- ing been appointed to examine Coleman's ser- vants, one of them confessed his master had more papers which his mistresse had burnt, and that he had helped her to doe it.* But perhaps I take paines in vain, by telling you severall of the votes of the House, which may be are sent to ypu more perfectly by some other hand ; or some member of your house may informe you better. But, however, till you bid me hold my hand, I shall endeavour to informe you as well I can. As for foreign news, I shall only tell you, that Mastrict was surrendered to the Dutch by the French the 5th inst. * Nothing can exceed the injustice and harshness with which the proceedings against the unfortunate people accused of this plot were carried on. Mr. Fox ohserves, " witnesses, of such a '* character as not to deserve credit in the most trifling cause, " upon the most immaterial facts, gave evidence so incredible, or, " to speak more properly, so impossible to be true, that it *' ought not to have been believed, if it had come from the mouth " of Cato: and upon such evidence, from such witnesses, were "innocent men condemned to death and executed. Prosecutors, '^whether attornies and solicitor-generals, or managers of im- ^^ peachment, acted with a fury, which, in such circumstances, '* might be expected." ** Juries partook naturally enough of the ^' national ferment ; and judges, whose duty it was to guard them " against such impressions, were scandalously active in confirming *' them in their prejudices, and inflaming their passions."— P. 24. C 117 ] The ratification of the peace with Spaine is not yett com. With this I end at present, and subscribe myself, Sir, your most humble, old, and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. LETTER LXXIT. From the same to the same. London, Nov. 14, 1678. Sir, — Your letter to Capt. Herbert I de- livered this morning ; but when I desired him to send you an answer, he said he did not know whether you deserved one, seeing you doubted of the necessity of your being in Parliament ; when all lieth at stake. Religion, King, and Government, a greater necessity there can be never. Cooper hath no letter for you. Pray let Mrs. Magdalen know by these, that I have been with Mrs. Snoden, who tells me, that on Friday last she sent her the thred demanded by the shoemaker, who was then to send down som shoes. Sir, I make it my business to pick up newes for you in coffee-houses, and among accointance, and to cull the true from the false, which is by far the harder task, for nothing comes abroad, though true, but under ten or twenty faces or disguises. People's spirits being heated, give them not leave to keep r 118 ] measure; therefore I heg your pardon for a mistake or error in my last, where I named Mr. Foley, instead of Mr. Powell ; the story is true in itselfe, as you see in the Gazette, but the man mistaken. The notes of Parliament you might have had, if 1 had orders for them; therefore I could write you but what I could gather here and there, and my memory could beare; the notes not being every where, and being stopt two or three times this Session. However, this I can say, that nothing materiall or considerable hath escaped me. The newes you will find on th§ other side, after I have subscribed myself, Sir, your most humble and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. With the Gazette you will have inclosed a printed letter which came out to-day, and which I send you more upon another man's commendation, than upon my owne judgement, Mr. Powell, mentioned in the Gazette, is thought to have been trepaned by three or four papists, who had promised him to procure him a pass from the Duke of York, for a ship, for a sum of an £100, which, the morning that he was missing, he carried neare Temple Bar, to a cutler's house, who is a Papist. Severoll other persons are missing since the discovery of the plott ; and two men have been fouude this weeke drowned in the Thames, not knowne yett, as I heare. [ 119 ] There lieth at this present time in the Abbey church, Westminster, exposed there to be seeiie by order of the Parliament, an unknowne dead man found about Ratlif, without any visible woundes upon his body, unless his neck be broken. He seemes to be a lustie man, be- tweene fifty and sixty yeares of age, and sup- posed by som to be a captain or master of a ship. Tuesday, in the House of Commons, a com- mittee is appointed to examine Atkins, Ordered, that Justice Row do attend the House, to give an account of the examination he hath taken, concerning' a fire happened in the stables of Sir George Wakeman last Sunday was seavennight. Here you must know that severall fires have been of late, and some persons apprehended on suspicion. Voted, an addresse to the King, that Sir Wra. Godolphin may be recalled, to answear an accusation of high treason exhibited against him ; for he is one of the plotters : and that the oathes of allegiance and supremacy be tendered to all men in the Inns of Court and Chancery. Wednesday was the fast. The Archbishop of Canterbury preached before the Lords, and Dr. Stillingfleet before the Commons. The ser- mons ordered to be printed. Whereas I told you in my last, that the Com- mons did not like the form of prayers composed for the fast, and by addresse desired another: and [ 120 1 anotlier prayer was made and printed ; I should liave added, that that did not please neither; so that they voted another addresse on Sunday last, which produced that bare prayer I sent you with the booke. Thursday, 14th November, The Commoas have ordered to have an account of all the justices in the severall counties of England, and of all those that have been turned out these 7 yeares past. Mr. Secretary reports that the King hath sent his revoking letters for Sir Wm. Godolphin : and that he hath ordered commissions to be issued out. I suppose 'tis in pursuance of his procla- mations against Papists. Ordered, an addresse to the King, that the oathes of allegiance and supremacy be tendered to all the Queene's meniall servants, except Por- tugueses, and the Dutchesses of York. An addresse to have some of Coleman's let- ters printed. An addresse for a generall pardon for Bedlow. The debate for the Duke of Yorke's removall from the King's presence and counsels adjourned . to Monday. They say that Atkins, Mr. Pepis' servant, is a cunning rogue that denieth all things, [ I'^l 1 LETTER LXXIII. From the same to the same. London, Oct. 25, 1679. Sir, — I received yesterday in the morning the baskett and the pot sent by my Lady; and a little after I received your letters, and Mr. Vaiighan's by the post. But I must b egg* your pardon at present, if I cannot answer them in their particulars. Som impediments this after- noone, joyned with my weakness, have hindered me ; and forced me to put oif my answer till next post, and my thankes to my lady. How- ever, all your orders and directions shall be observed, God helping. Mrs. Floyd hath had her token ; the rest in due time. I had in my hands some golden thread for Mrs. Betty, your sister ; had paid for it, and intended to send it, as this day, by Marck Taylor; bat you seeme to countermand it, or else I doe not understand your meaning in your letter. Pardon this short letter, where 1 owe a long one. Accept of all my good will, wkere my strength faileth; and take me for, Sir, your most humble and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. 'Tis confidently reported, that the Duke of York goeth away for Scotland on Munday or [ 122 ] Tuesday next. Here is publislied my Lord Scrogsl: his speech in vindication of himselfe, about Sir J, Wakeman : 'tis in two sheets. LETTER LXXIV. From Lady E. Lyttleton* to Henry Hek- BERT, Esq. Dear Harry, — I have not writ you this fortnight, hoping to have seen you before this; but hearing that you were ill, and could not come, has made me trouble you with this scribble. I suppose you have heard that Colonel Sidney f has had notice of his try all a fortnight X "^The Lord Chief Justice at that time was Sir Wm. Scroggs; " a man more valued for a good readiness in speaking well, " than either for learning in his profession, or for any moral " virtue. His life had heen indecently scandalous, and his for- " tunes were very low/^ — Burnet, ii. 448. * It is curious to observe how the court ladies of Charles II.'s reign united a deep spirit of political intrigue with the most un- exampled levity of manuers. Were we required to point out that pelriod in our history, when the character of English women was least amiable or dignified, we should, without hesitation, name the dissolute period in which the above letter was written. Plays, poems, novels, and intrigues, formed the amusements and the "business of the sex ; which was without sentiment, without de- licacy, without modesty ! t Algernon Sydney, one of the noblest victims to the wicked counsels of an abandoned and tyrannical Court, was tried and condemned for conspiring the death of the King, (in the Rye- Jiouse plot,) by a packed jury, and the infamous Judge Jefferies. " The proceedings in Sydney's case/^ obseiTes Mr. Fox^ "were [ 123 ] agoe ; but yesterday he was arraig-ned at the King's Beach, the bili being found just before he came into the court. He desired to put in a special plea against the inditement; but the judges told him, as I hear, that if his plea were overruled he could not plead after that to the inditement again, but they must proceed against him as guilty. So that he was forced to plead not guilty, and they sent him back to the Tower again, and appointed Wednesday next come sevenight for his tryall at the Court. The wit- nesses produced before the grand jury were Lord Howard, who you know what he says, and Mr. Shepard, the marchant ; who, they say, did swear to his hand : for they say, a book was taken of his owne writing, very severely and unmannerly reflecting on the government, and designed for the earring on this horrid and damnable plot. Though I must tell you what I hear on the other side, for 'tis said by some, that this book was writ severall yeares agoe, and is no such thing. The other wittnesse is Sir Phillip Loyd, who s^vears, they say, to the sign- ing of the papers, &c. " still more detestable than in that of Lord Russell. The pro- " duction of papers, containing speculative opinions upon govern- " ment and liberty, written long before, and, perhaps, never even " intended to be published, together with the use made of those *' papers, in consideiing them as a substitute for the second wit- " ness to the overt act, exhibited such a compound of wicked- " ness and nonsense, as is hardly to be paralleled in the history *' of judicial tyranny." — Histcjy, 47. He died like a hero on the scaffold, Dec. 7, 1683. [ 124 J I hope ere long to see you in towne, for your friends are very angry at you for staying soe long. There is a discourse as if those in the Tower would be bailed the latter end of the terme, though some say otherways, and that they'll be indited for misdemeanors, &c. Pray, if your affaires bee not very pressing, let mee see you as soon as you can. Though I would not purchase my owne happynesse by any un- easinesse to you ; for 1 doe, and ought, to value yours above my owne satisfactione; a greater than the enjoying your company cannot bee ever in the desire of your most affectionat real I friend and servant for ever, A. L. There has one Speke and Bradden been took some time in custody; but they are both re- leased upon baile, and an information put in against them in the Crown Office about Lord Essex's affair, &c. They gave £3000 baile. LETTER LXXV. From V*** to the same* London, 3Tarch 10, 1684. Sib,— The morrow after the interment of the late King,* the King went publickly with the » Charles II. C 125 ] Queen to masse at her chapell at Whitehall, and hath ever since been constant in his houres ot devotion there, or att the chappell of St. James's. The Princesse Annef received the sacrament after the manner of the Church of England, in the greate chappell at Whitehall, the first of this month ; the service and sermons being conti- nued there as in the late King's time. The King is very iatent on his businesse, seldom or never absent from council ; takes no diversion but hunting, which he does for health, once a week> on Mundayes, on Puttney Heath, or other places not farr distant. Soon after his brother's death, he forbid Mrs. SedleyJ the court ; and has since declared, he will reforme the court from swearing, drinking, and wenching. The last week the high constable of this hundred had orders to disperse the masquerade meetings at Meggs', and gave Meggs notice of the order, and desired she would att least farbeare the en- tertainment there for some time : this not being done, the constable attended as ordered, and upon oifer made to apprehend or unmask some in vizards there, a gentleman concerned sent to an officer at Somerset House, and prayed his as- t Afterwards Queen Anne. X Catherine Sedley, daughter of Sir Charles Sedtey, James's mistress before he ascended the throne, and afterwards created by him Countess of Dorchester. When he entirely forsook her, he sent her word either to retire into France, or to have her pen- sion of £4000 a year withdrawn.— JKere*&y, 131. [ 12G ] sistance with some miisquetteers. The officer came; a miisqiiett or two were discharged, with- out other harme than cleaving a constable's staff. The company being dispersed, the constable gave an account of the passages, and had a se- cond order to disperse them on Fryday, and came prepared for the purpose, attended with a regiment of bedles. But noe company appear- ing at the place, the officer of the guard since received a severe check, and, 'tis said, is in danger of being cashiered. Sunday morning last the King, going to masse, told his attendants, he had been informed that since his declaring against the disorders of the family, som had had the impudence to ap- peare drunke in the Queen's prei^ence, ('tis thought he reflected on the Duke of A. ;) but advised them at their peril to observe his orders, "which he would see obeyed. Amongst others who have kist the King's hand. Justice Newman hath done it twice. Att his second doing itt, he had the fortune. to fall. The King laughed heartily, and saide to the attendants, " one of their justices was fallen." This, from Justice Newman; and that he is not without hopes of being Member for Westminster. The King seemes much averse against the French, or at least not to putt that value on them as his brother did. The Count de Lorges, brother to the Earl of Feversham, and a mar- shall of France, who came hither to condole^^ [ J27 ] &c. and congratulate, &c. hath been, to the least punctilio, received by the King*, as the Lord Churchill^was by the French king ; which, 'tis said, is a mortification to the Count, &c. who expected more caresses than he mett with. Most of the Compaeyes of Merchants (parti- cularly the East-India, Turkey, and African Compj^nyes) having by their addresses sub- mitted to pay customes, as in the late King's time,* the private merchants gradually comply ed, till the last week, when a shipp arrived in the Thames from the Streights, whose goods being consigned to Mr. Maynard by commission, (that is as factors or agents for the owners,) with this particular intimation by letter, that the owners understood the King was dead, and expected from him an account of the goods, cmtome free^ if they arrived safe in port before a grant by Parliament of the customes to the new King* Maynard hath absolutely refused to pay custome * James, on coming to the throne, issued a proclamation for the levying, upon his sole authority, the customs, and other duties, which had constituted part of the late King's revenue ; but to which, the Act granting these having expired with the Prince, James was not legally entitled. To this stretch of au- thority Mr. Fox observes that no resistance was made i ** nor," says he, " did the example of Hampden, which half a century " before had been so successful, and rendered that patriot's " name so illustrious, tempt any one to emulate his fame.'* -^Historif . 91. It is clear, however, from the above letter, that one British merchant was bold enough to stand forward and resist the un- constitutional claim of James, and that his noble example was followed by others. [ 128 } . for them, and others have since followed his example. The town is double guarded : att least all the gunnes mounted, new pallisadoes, &c. putt up in places convenient. The late mortality in the Horse Guardes hath occasioned their remove, on Sunday morning last, from their usuall station to the Mewes. So many of them have lately died, that some talk the distemper among them is pestilentiall ; but I hope it will appeare an effect of their extra- ordinary debauchery e on the late occasion, which made them have recourse oftener than ordinarye to the brandy shoppes and tavernes, to supply their spirits. There's more than ordi- narye watching and exercise. On Saturday was sevennight, the Chief Justice committed Mr. Ranter to the King's Bench, for a book of his, called ** Annotations on the New " Testament :" Mr. Ranter is since bayled. There are warrants out against the printers. One of them was taken yesterday, and hath put in bayle to appere next terme. The circum- stances and consequences are too long for this paper. The late King left in his closett a hundred thousand pounds at least, in guinneys and old gold. The King hath declared he lived upon sixty thousand pounds per annum in his brother's time, and expects Prince George shall live within that compasse ; and declares much L 129 1 ao^aiiist pvofiiseness, &c. ; and among other thinges against daeiling; and sayes, he knowes a man hath fought nine diiells, and is a very coward, having been manifestly knovi^ne such in an engagement att sea. Some of our eminent preachers, who, since the late King's death, have been zealous against Popery, in their expressions in the pulpitt, have been lately directed to apply their sermons to preach their flockes into obedience of Gob and the King, and forbeare matters of controversy, &c. An intimation was lately sent to Mr. E, that it would be well if he would not oppose Sir Adam Brown in the election for Surry, The answer returned was, that he would leave the country as he found it. But I believe you have a former account of this. There is now noe certaine account of matters from Scotland, the poste being in sure hands, and all things kept extremely close from that side. 'Tis said (and not without ground) there are 10 or 12 companyes shipped away for Ber^ wick, upon occasion of some disorders beyond that place. And 'tis said, the E. of A. and others are in those parts. The election for Bedford is over ; a friend of yours will, in a short time, give you personally a better account of these and other matters than I can. I hope you have received mine by Philips, The most indirect and unusual meanes are now K [ 130 ] made for election, the more reason there is to siispectethe designe ; and the more earnestlye do I want you a member, to appeare like your- selfe, when others know not how, or dare not act honestly. But I cannot advise you to engage for any election, without as great a certainty of sucx:'esse (to be returned elected) as such a matter is capable of, I knowe you know the reason* V. LETTER LXXVI. From Ann Herbert* io the same, 1684. I am very glad to heare you are in good health, and I received your letter just now; and the child is well, I thank God, and so are all heare. As for my brother's things and InwelFs, I will give you the best account I can ; but if I was at London, I could give a better account of them then I cud now, for Mrs. Cooper knows what the ju wells are, and how many thare is of them, for I could aske her ; and now she may be of my sister's side, ^y sister has a parlle necklace of wone rowe, and a diment ring, with seven diments in it, and a gould wach of my brother's; and she has a table and stands, and a little boxe and an erareld hooke for a lute of his, all the same inlade, which stude in his chamber, and that thaye say he * " Anne, daughter and coheir of — Ramsey, esq; one of th© " aldermen of the city of London," — Col. Peer. Supple, v. i. 271. [ 131 ] gave her. My ante Col well has a diment rin^e with one stone, and a paiie necklace with two rowes, and a disnent locket, that is all I know of; but if I was with you, I might know more of her. I thought you wood not adone it without mee. I dont know what thing's els she has of my brother's, for I beleave he had more then I know of. I had a letter from my maide Elizabeth Roberts, which I owe five pounds to her, and three poun six shillens for washing of pinte ; and yoii have the note of it, for I left it with you when I came out of London. I thought you had paid her. Pray send for her, and paye her; and git her to aske her ante about my brother's things, and what juweTls he had. The churchwardens comes for a levey for the church, but I wont pay them tel I sent you word of it, to know if I shall pay them or no. It comes to wone pound seven shillens, for thaye are agoing out of the ofes. Pray send me word if I shall pay them or not by the next poste. So I conclud rite in hast, the post stase, your loveing wife, ANN HERRBET. LETTER LXXVTI. From Miss M. Offley to the same, 1684.* Since I wrote last 1 have been so pensive and melanehoiy for our great national loss*, that I * Charles II. died 6th Feb, 1684, K2 [ 132 ] cou'd not for the present esteame any worldly felisity or sattisfaction, wliich also made in ee for a time abandon the company of my best friends, and neglect your commands in making* a speedy rehearsal! of your letter to my L. K.* who sym- pathized with mee in our just g-riefs for the loss of odr King, whose memory will be ever precious to us, tho' wee have a faire prospect of many happy days from the promises of his successor, which have, I suppose, before now reached you. Yesterday I was willing to take some refresh- ment, and so L, K. and myselfe went to Hyde park, where we had good aire and but a little company," which w^e left, with our coach, and took a walk by ourselfes to talk seriously; and then I produced your letter, which shee read, and smiling, said, you too must come to prayers twice a day now, ^ for religion and morality wou'd be all the fashion, Mrs. Sedley being forbid the Court, and banished with that wor- shipfull vice which has been prevailing all the while. rU assure you wee dull, nervous women are altogether in request now; and my ghostly father, Dr. Kent, (the great promoter., of all moral virtue and christian graces,) the greatest * Probably " loving kinswoman/' ft S^- Tlionias Kenn, made bishop of Bath and Wells at the ooiiclusion of Charles II.'s reign. A most estimable prelate, ^ho attended Charles II. on his death-bed, and did the utmost to awaken his conscience. He was one of the seven deposed bishops. He lived after his deprivation with his friend Lord Weymouth, at Longleat, till his c^eath, which happened 19tli March, 1710—11. r 133 ] court favourite, tho hee has boldly asserted the truth and verity of the principles of theC* of England. Thus you see the powerfiill effects of prayers and good works. My L. K.'s have been heard ; her aims and supplycations, amongst others, have prevailed for peace and happiness, even when it was least expected ; and this makes mee hope youMl bee a perfect convert in a short time. I am sure you'l have a true sence before you come to dye ; and can reason and distin- guish nicely ; all which makes us desire your company in town, where the innocent and pro- fitable enjoyments wee had the last winter may be repeated, with much approbation and sattis- faction, to my L. K. and, Sir, your most humble servant, Feb. 17. M. OFFLEY. You must forgive the blotts, LETTER LXXVin. From the same to the same. Nov. 14ih, SiK, — This day 1 received your obliging letter, which most justly speaks the person that writ it; for you have given mee the best testimony of your judgment and friendship imaginable, and have produced much more rational argu- * Query, Commons, [ 134 ] ments, than any of my otber relations j altlio' they all know the business; that is, my father and mother, and your sister hath bt^en made acquainted with it by Mrs. J. Car, who was an actor in this affair; but truly I depended upon your answer, and have heithertp g^iven no en- couragement to the gentleman to proceed; and now, tho hee has your vote, I am not his friend ; but I think you almost sacred, and cannot much disaprove of your advice. I believe I told you of his estate, as it was then represented tomee, with* out a clause which has been put in since it seems; his eldest brother is alive, and the scoole master is not to have it till his death, which you know is very uncertain ; but hee is allmost as fat as my Co George was. This man's reall incom is only six hundred a yeare by his place, and three hundred pound of his own : this he has in present possession; but I cannot prevaile with myself to accept of him and his employ- ment. Hee is, they say, learned and very ingenious; but if I were any judge, I can give you no account of his understanding, for I never admitted him lo speak ten words to mee. I wish I could discourse this intrigue and som other matters with you, and then I would express myself more significantly, and endeavour to make you on my side. My father and mother, by Mrs. H.'s instigation, are much for this man, but I am sure I shall never adher to them ; and yet |y our letter has brought the business into som [ 135 ] dispute in my own thoughts, and the circum- stance of debauchery is very considerable. Upon my life, Sir, I could have a gaudy atheist" with a very good estate; but then I consider the neglects of such a creature, after being maryed a little while, would be as bad as this man's em- ployment : and on the other side, I am a slave to the world, and start when I think people would say, '^ Mrs. O. has maryed a scoole master.'* Pray, Sir, forgive this confidence, and excuse these foolish declarations, which may justly lessen your good opinion of mee ; but I hope you will consider that I am much concerned, and cannot make my fancy comply with my friends; fori protest 'tis a great trouble to mee, that I cannot think this match for my credit and interest. Methinks the want of his bro- ther's estate, and his own employment, puts it out of all disput; and I hope you will be of my opinion, when you understand the circumstance. If I were really possessed, that it would be for the honour and happiness of my familly to marry this man, I would dispense with my own pre- judice against him; but for my part, I think if I marry the scoole-master, my sister Tetty must take up with the usher, and so they must all descend gradually till poore Kate corns to the Quorister; for its certaine it can never be for their advantage to see me meanly maryed. I have drawn out this letter to the length of a bill in chancery, and could never expect vour r 136 ] pardon, but that I have always found you the most sincere and faithful friend in the world to, Sir, your most obliged and humble servant, M. OFFLEY. Give me but one word, whether the uncertainty of his brother's estate dosnot alter your opinion, and burn this letter, for this business is a secret to every one but yourself and those 1 have men- tioned. I would not be so importunate and bold in troubling you with this concern, but I know you are the best judg what the world would think of such a match ; and since 1 am not in love with the man, I ought to regard the world. LETTER LXXIX. From Lady Lyttleton ^o Henky Herbert, Esq. I have been so ill to-night, that I am but just able to tell you I thought I should have heard oftener from you; but doe what is most conve- niante, and Avhat best pleases you ; spend but your time more m the consideration of the empty nes of this world, and the unspeakeable satisfackshon it will be at last to get to heaven, and I will be satisfied with any thing ; for your well-being heareafter is what I most desier. I sometimes fancy, if could I se whom I >yould, I should he better 3 but I correckt my^? [ 137 ] «elf for sutch a thought, and know it is my duty to be satisfied with the will of God, and pray be you loving" where you are bound in duty forst. The next post I will writ more in anser to your letter^ but now am able to writ no more. Mrs, Barker will writ to you next post. I^ETTER LXXX. From Lady Lyttleton to the same, London, Tuesday night. Lady Dorset can live but few days; Lord Kadnall very ill; Lord Carlisle dead ; young' Lady Ossere extremely ill, and with child in Ireland ; old Lady Ossere very ill^ Lady Hochester extremely ill ; Lady Ann Spencer to have the best match in Scotland, but I have forgot his name. Macarte hath Lord Arran's regiment in Ireland* Sure you left nobody here; your consern was great for —, since the sight of a child made all trouble depart from your hart; happy cretur; blesse your stars, you never knew what love was yett. Ingage your friend at Whithall to wright you all the newse of this place; she shall have m.y assistance, because I shall venture no more till I have converst with you, for more reasons than the hassard of my letters. Lady Dorset hath given Mr. Powell all her personall estate, Lord Mackeifeld hath got the try all with Selden. [ 138 ] The Doge of Genoa is, with three or fore of the Senate, on his way to Parres, to aske his most Christian Maiesty's pardon for theare ofences. Mrs. Villers, the mayde of honour, is inaryed to a man of fore hundred pounds a yeare, Farewell. LETTER LXXXI. From Sir William Boughton, to Henry Herbert,* Esq, I have sent down my commands some time since, for another to receive my thirds at Nor^ * A dispute concerning family property, the fruitful source of family quarrels, was the occasion of this misunderstanding. The result is unknown; though we may be certain it was not a fatal one. Mr. Herbert had much fighting blood- in his veins. His uncle, the notable Lord of Cherbury, had signalized himself by numerous single combats ; and his father, as Lord Cherbury informs us, " had given several proofs of his courage in duels." Life, p. 13. One conspicuous feature in the manners of high life in the seventeenth century was a sort of rage for duelling. No gentle ] man's character for gallantry or fashion could be established, unless he had killed his man in single combat. The more he had been distinguished by these deeds of blood, the more respectable was he in the circles of the gay, and the more acceptable to, and successful with, the ladies. Lord Cherbury 's life aflbrds some very entertaining illustrations of this fact; and the interesting account in the Guardian (Nos. 129, 133) of the duel between Sir Edward Sackville (afterwards Earl of Dorset) and Lord Bruce, is a melancholy instance of the slight causes in which these " affairs of honour" originated, and the sad consequences in which they terminated. It is a pleasing proof of our general im- provement in manners, and advance in reason, humanity, and eivilization, that duels are now infinitely less frequent than they r 1S9 3 liam : as to wliat you and Gy 11 have done tocrether, I shall thinke fit to have satisfaction. You know very well what I have had for this foor or five years, which, since I expect an account from yon only, my consent was never to imploy your acquaintance 3 and what loss hath been through you, I hope chancery will reieive. Sir, your servant, MarchUS, — 8S. W. BOUGHTON. These for Henry Herbert, esqj at the Lady Herbert's house, Leicester-fields. LETTER LXXXII. From Henry Herbert, to Sir William BoUGHTON. Leicester Fields, March 29, —83. Since you are not sensible of civilities, you shall be troubled with no more from me ; but, I v/ill treate you as you deserve : and now I tell you what I've already done was for your Lady's sake. More then one account you and your ag'ent Tilinian have had, of what I received of Gill; but I've not had any account of from you, of what you've received, which I expect, be '^-ere 150 years ago; and that they only occur among characters, not remarkable for condition, refinement, sense, or respectability. The quarrel referred to in this correspondence seems to have been some time in maturing. It began in 1688, and came to an issue in 1692. [ wo J assured I shall answer you in cliaucery, or any where else, upon the lest summons, v/ho write my name, HENRY HERBERT. LETTER LXXXIIT. From Sir Wjlliam Boughton to Henry Herbert, Esq. I dine at horn e to-day; and from thence I adjourn to the Sun Tavern, in Holborn, until 3 o'clock, or thereabouts : from thence I shall walke into the city ; if you have any thing to say unto me, I hope I shall bee able to give you an answer. 10th April, 1692. W. BOUGHTON*. LETTER LXXXIV. From the same to the same, I doe desire to know what you mean by your rudeness to my servant this morning" ; such breeding I am not acquainted with. I know not of incivility towards you. However, Sir, I expect your answer forthwith. April Wth, 1692. W. BOUGHTON. * The answer to this note was a verbal one; laconic, but very gross. It is copied, in Mr. Herbert's hand, at the bottom of Sir William's note. [ 141 1 LETTER LXXXV. From Henry Herbert to SirWu. Boughton. In return to your letter by the penny post, I send you one by a porter, to tell you that about 4 o'clock this afternoon, I shall be behind Southampton house, in Red Lyon Fields, where I will give you an answ^er. H. HERBERT. LETTER LXXXVr. From Lord Bellamont* ^o Henry Herbert, Esq. Worcester, 3Iarch 10, — 89. Dear CouNRYMAN,~The complement I, as well as the rest of the gentlemen of the coun- try, paid to our High Sheriff last Saturday, in attending him to meet the Judge out of town, hindered me from acquainting you, by that day's post, that on Thursday last. Sir Jo. Packington, Mr. Philipp Foley, and I, w^ent to the pole for the election at Droitwich. I carried it so cleverly, that there was but one vote against me; and next to me, Mr. P. Foley had the most votes^ But Sir John tendered several votes v/hich could be allowed by the bailiff to be qualified, soe * Richard Coote, Lord Coloony, and Eayl of Bellamont, in the kingdom ©f Ireland, married Catherine the only child and heir of Bridges Nanfan, lord of the manor of Birts-Morton, Worcestershire. Lord Bellamont was made governor of New York; where he died, 5th March, 1700. i 142 ] that he intends to petition a cdnimilted "of elections when the Parliament sits. Tom Foley crossing Sir John after this manner, at Wych, and setting np his brother Phillip, has provoked Sir John to strike in for the county, and I am very confident Sir Francis Wirmington will be thrown out. I resolve to vote for Pack and Foley, and make ail the interest I can for them. If Win. and the others goe thro' with the pole, I vA\[ not excuse 'em under £2000 a man. Sir Edward Harley is likely to have a hard contest and a doubtful one in Herefordshire. The Tories are hotter here than ever; and, I doubt not there will be some broken heads at the county pole, which was adjourned from last Wednesday to Thursday next. My cousen Bromley is your servant, has received your letter, and will answer it the next post, and provide you the Lampreys. I am yours, aiFectionately, BELLAMONT. For Henry Herbert, esq; at the Lady Herbert's house, in Leicester Fields, London. LETTER LXXXVir. From Lord Coote to Henry Herbert, Esq, London^ October 3d, — 89. Dear Neighbour,— I send you my news- letter*, that you might have news by wholesale. Yesterday a race w^as run between my Lord ♦ The newspapers were^t this time, and for many years after- wards, printed in the form of letters, beginning with " Sir," and [ 14* ] Devonshire and my Lord of Monmouth at New- market, but the latter won. On Saturday next will be run the match between my Lord of Monmouth and Sir R. Gwin.J I am told the Duke of Somerselt (who is at Newmarkett) has invited the King" to visit Cambridge, of which university the Duke is chancellor. The King- has alsoe promised my Lord North and Gray to dine with him at his house ; soe that I hope his Majestic, by degrees, will become a true Englishman. You know the humour of our nation is to be frank and affable, and not a little hospitable ; and noe doubt the King, by eating and drinking with his people, and shewing him-^ selfe often to them, will (together with his other excellent qualities) winn the hearts and souls of them. Let me know when I may expect to see you in town. I am, with all my heart, dear neighbour, your most affectionate humble servant, COOTE. ending "your humble serv^ant/^ &c. Tliey were charged each ©ne farthing, and known by the name of the Farthing Post. X Sir Rowland Gwynne was treasurer of the chamber to King William and Queen Mary ; but removed from his office for some conversation which had fallen from him, reflecting upon Lord Sydney^s conduct in Ireland. He was examined before the Privy Councill on this matter ; and the last number in the Ap- pendix contains a particular account of what passed at that examination. Tindal, in his continuation of Rapin, vol. iii, p. 194, has given some letters from Mr. Warre to Sir Wm. Duttozj Colt, envoy extraordinary at Hanover, with an outline of what passed at the Council. The document in the Appendix, however, Tf hich was a private communication to Lord Herbert, relates all the conversation that occurred there. [ 144 1 LETTER LXXXVlir. From Mr Do^vdesweli.* to the same. Jidy 29, 1690. I had writt to you tbe last week, bat that I was soe employed in mustering, and making preparations for it, that I was forced to neglect all other concerns ; besides that I had nothing to tell you, but that we received a letter from the counsel!^ directed to my Lord Shrewsbury, audi in his absence, to his deputy lieutenants, re- quireing us to seize the horses of all papists and disaffected persons, and requiringe my Lord to appoint three deputy lieutenants to judge of them ; and accordingly either to returne them to their owners, or to dispose of them, as they should judge morl for theyr Majesties service, and to reward and encourage the seizing of them. In observance of the order, we issued out our orders to the respective captains and lieu- tenants of each foot company, requiringe them to make diligent search in the houses of all papists and disaffected persons, within thelimitts of their respective companyes, and to seize the horses and arms of all such persons ; and to summon all such persons to appeare before us on the 28tli instant, it being yesterday, and the * Of Pull-court, Worcestershire ; ancestor of the Right Hon. William Dowdeswell, Chancellor of the Exchequer in tlie years 1765 and 1766. On the moriiiment of the latter, in Bushley chmch, Worcestershire, is a tong epitaph^ composed by Edmund Burke. [ 145 ] time to which our sessions was adjourned; att which time the several lieutenants made a re- turne of theyr warrants, by delivermg' in a list of what persons each lieutenant had summoned, and by causing* to be brought iri what horses they foand. The chief of the persons who ap- peared were Mr. Russell, Mr. Bartlett, Mr. Abbington, Mr. Pay, Mr. Darling-, and Mr* Hanford^ to all which we tendered the new oaths and the test; which being refused by them all, we committed Mr. Hanford, upon the ac- count of his disrespectfull behaviour before us, to the common gaol. The rest, with Mr. Battlett's servant, we confined to the Talbot in Sedbury, and sett a file of rausqueteers upon them for a guard. There allsoe appeared above halfe a score of inferior persons, who, for the- generality, were tenants, and they refusing the oaths and test, we thought fitt to putt them allsoe under confinement ; but I expect that those justices who live in Worcestershire will release them this day, they being- poor tenants, and truly 1 judge not dangerous, since the chiefe of the party are secured* There were many more summoned, who neglected to appeare ; the ftiost eminent of which were, Sir Wra. Stych, a knight, and the person who is at Mr. Bartlett's, a;id the Lord Fairfax, who is at my Lady Yeates, and Mr. Addis; and for those three w^e dispatched two parties of horse yesterday, the one under the command of Mr. Bromley's lieutenant, the 3- [ 146 ] . other under his cornettj to seize them ; and as to the rest, we have issued out warrants to all constables to apprehend them, and bring* them before us on Tuesday next. The horses which were seized, seemed generally to be very meane cart-horses, and under the value of 51. a piece -^^ only there was seized at Mr. Bartlett's a saddle- nag', worth about six pounds, about fourteen hands and an inch higfh. He stands fire verv well, and the horse Mr. Bromley, Mr. Lechmere, and my self e here, judged to be forfeited, (not- withstanding we have received noe authority from my Lord Shrewsbury to appoint us to be the three deputy lieutenants to judge in the case.) In all the search we have made, we have not found any armes at all. We have had here a greate alarm upon the account of the landing of the French ; which, in my opinion, struck noe great terror amongst us; the generality of people being very resolute to make a vigorous op« position. I forgott to mention to you, that the oathes being tendered to the curate of Upton- upon-Seaverne, and he refusing them, we have committed him to the gaol. I beg that you will give us your accustomed favorable acceptance, it proceeding from an earnest desire to approve myselfe your most faithfull, humble servant, RIC. DOWDESWELL. t 147 3 LETTER LXXXIX. From Henry Herbert, Esq; to King WlLMAM III.* Juhj tkelSth,—9l, Sere, — If I was not satisfied in myself of an entire resolution to serve your Majesty m the face of all kinds of discouragements, I would not presume to write, especially since I fear I've laboured under some misrepresentations to your Majesty. But your Majesty, who entertains the courage of Alexander, and the wisdom of Solomon, must be the best judge of all actions; and 'tis favour enough for me, if you are pleased to remember any thing don by me, either in Holland or England. Upon that presumption I'me encouraged to ask of your Majesty the auditorship of Wales, the place of Col. Herbert, * Henry Herbert had some claim on William's gratitude, as he had early discovered the evil politics of James II. and steadily opposed them; and crossed over into Holland in 1688, to offer his semce to the Prinqe of Orange, in the redemption of his country from popery and arbitrary government. As a reward for these proofs of attachment, William made Mr. Herbert, suc- cessively, a Baron of the Realm in 1694; and Gustos Rotulorum for the county of Brecon in 1695. And Queen Anne made him one of the Lords Commissioners of Trade and the Plantations in 1705. He was distinguished for his affability, politeness, and ^eat natural abilities, which he liad much cultivated and im- proved by study. He died on the 22d Jan. 1708-r-9, leaving, by Anne his wife, daughter and co-heir of — • Ramsay, esq; one of the aldermen of the city of London, (who survived him, and died 24th April, 1716,) Henry, his onjy son and heiT,-^ColUiu'e Peerage, Supplement, vol, i, 272. L 2 [ 148 3 \vlio was kilfd in the late Irish eng-a^ement, &c. In his absence he left his power of officiating with me, and I officiated here for him, so that I'me the better prepared to serve your Majesty in that place. But I submit this, as IVe don former requests, to your Majesty's pleasure, begging', with all humility, leave to subscribe myself, great Sire, your dutifall subject, Il» H£iIiSEliT« lictter to the Kin^* LETTER XC. From Godwin Atwood to H. Herbert, Esq, Worcester, Jan. 22d, 1693. Honored Captain, — Not longe since 1 sent you a letter about the indisposition of Franck Hales, whoe is now somewhat better, though thought never fitt for any military affaire; 1 am now desired by honest JohnWakeman, one of your worship's souldiers, that you would please, per next, to send him an order for Mr. Joseph Pooller, of Bewdly, Mr. Richard ClarCji of the same place, Mr. John Hancocks, of Harecourt, and Mr. William Vernon, of Astwood, to severally pay to Mr. Wakeman, as they stand charged h^ the lieutenants: this is most humbly requested, by reason that Mr. justice Foley hath forbid Pooller piaying to Wakeman, untill he could shew your order-^^ His most devoted service ^to little Master, [ 149 ] with his and my dutifull regards to your worship, wishing you a long and prosperous life. I hum- bly subscribe myself, honoured Sir, your most obedient and faithfuU servant, G. ATWOOD. * There was noe meeting of the deputy lieute- nants this sessions, to the great prejudice of your troop. The mobb were up on Saturday last, and seized a bardge laded with bacon and Cheshire great cheese, as alsoe corne, &c. to a great value. They are growne very resolute, and of ill conse- quence, if not timely suppressed. Alderman Haynes, I am informed, gave the Raparees great encouragement therein. Parson Roberts, a non- conformist here, w^as called or sent for to a servant maid that lay sick, she desireing that he would both pray with her, and give her alsoe the sacrament. He desired all the people to with- draw, and then he asked severall questions, particularly how she would receave the same; she answeared, according to the Church of England, as now established. He tould her she was in th^ wrong, and that his church was th^ right, though now under a cloud ; and except she would receave it after his way, he would not administer jt to her. Some persons atten- tive at the doore breake in upon him, and re- buked, and desired him to pray by her, which he refused, and soe departed; but Roberts and ano- ther brother rogue went, with oneof their brethren^ [ 150 ] to be interred in the countrey, and there they tooke the Common Prayer Booke oute of the Minister's hand of the parish, and buried the Jacobite as they thought iitt. Severall not well affected to our g-lorious government are gone up to London to gett commissions; a certificate for them from hence would, I conceive, be proper. God preserve K. W. and his Queen. Wakeman prayes you to direct yours to hi m in Bewdley as soon as your great affaires will permitt, otherwise Mr. Foley will get the money of Pooller. For my honoured captain, Henry Herbert, esq; one of the Members of the Honourable House of Commons, West- minster, London. LETTER XCI. From Lord Herbert to the Bailiff, S^'c, of Bewdley. Leicester Fields,^ May 3, — 94. Mr. Bayliff and Gentlemen. — I thoug-ht it not proper to signify the favour their Ma- jestys have been pleased to bestowe on me, till my grant of Barony passed the great seal. This day it passed, and this day I write to you, gen- tlemen of the corporation of Bewdley, to give you the certain information of it, that you may use such measures on a new choice of a burgesse to serve you in Parliament, as may conduce to the public good, and your corporation's in par- ticular. I do assure you my care and study wer^ t 151 ] to preserve both; and I do believe you, gentle- men of the corporation of Be wdley, entertained such thoughts, because you repeated your choice of me for your burgesse since this happy revolu- tion, and it was unanimous. I am very sensi- ble of those reall kindnesses to me, for which, though passed, I give you thankes. I design still to be your neighbour, and I design alwayes to be a well-wisher to the corporation of Bewd- ley. Pray take my kindest remembrance amongst you, and continue to esteem me, as I am, Mr. BayhfFe and Gentlemen, your reall friend, HERBERT. LETTER XCIT. From Lady Inchequin* to Lord Herbert. Chester, June 26th, — 95. According to promise, and a thousand obliga- tions to my Lord Herbert, I must let you know that the first essay, your setting mee out, has proved most prosperous ; a very pleasing jour- * Elizabeth Brydges, second daughter of George Lord Chan- dos. She married, first, Edward third Lord Herbert of Cherbury ; secondly, the Earl of Inchiqueen, of the kingdom of Ireland ; and thirdly, Charles Lord Howard, of Escrick. In" the second *' series of Epistolatory Curiosities" will be found some letters from this lady, respecting her application for separation from her third husband, Lord Howard, She died in February 1717— -8, '^Callins's Peei'age, vol, i. p. 497. [ 152 ] ney; you know my company ; and Mr. Johnson's care of mee to divert mee, is very agreeable. On Smiday night wee came to this place ; yester- day we were invited, and dined, at Sir T. Grosvenor*s, a charming place; and met here, accidentally, some of my Welch acquaintance, whom 1 -me glad to see, the grand fay re being now. To-day we designed to see Rock-Savage, Lord Hivers's, but that there is some Tangier acquain- tance that irvite our Earie and I to dine off fresh salmon. Wee have many pleasure adven- tures, but our want is a fayre wind, wee having a man of warr at Highlake, where wee goe to-morrow morning, in order to take shipping. What was left with you, I 'me sure of your care of ; and as to the little picture, I beg Mrs. Swan may goe about copying; but the dress, a widdow's; and please to give her your directions. I beg you'l please to hasten me a line, and direct it for our Earle in Dublin ; a cross at the bottom of your superscription will distinguish it, and let me know what news of the lady departed from her lodging^ Whitehall, 'Twou'd he a great obligation^ if you'd plea§e to see Mr. West, of Buckingham-court, to know what news, and spurr him on for your friends redemp- tion from the wickedness of our enemyes, which God deliver. Believe my great impatience to heare from you, who goe off from High Lake the first fayre puff. Your concern and wishes will, I trust, obtain the wished-for sucpess, (or t 153 ] your Lordshippss ever obliged cosen and ser- vant, &c. E. TNCHIQUIN. S. Yollant begs her humble service; and Mrs. Walker, who, I guess, you'l gain a conquest off, if you but remember her brother, and gain your point. I wish you heere for the same reason, heere being a pretty woman that dines with us to-day, that was bred in France. I've time to write to no friends, but your letter to-day, LETTER XCIII. From Lord Herbert to Lord Capell.* Aug. Wth^ 1695, I should be wanting to myseife, if I should omit this oportunity of writing to your Excel- lency, and assureing you that 'twould be a greater satisfaction to me to kisse your hands than make any excuse, having received a writ of summons, by the name of Baron of Castle Island, to attend the Parliament at Dublin the 27th of this month. But my sister th'other day dying in childbed, and leaving a child, obledges me to stay here to look after my trust, who is at present under the care of two chirurgeons. 1 hope your Excellency will accept of this apology from your reall servant, HERBERT. * Lord Deputy of Ireland; partial and oppressive in liis go- vernment, and peculiarly harsh in Ills conduct towards the Koman Catholics. — Smollett, ix. b^. [ 154 ] LETTER XCIV. From Lord Torrington,* to Lord Herbert. Jan. 31, —96. I received both your Lordship's letters, bat indeed am hardly well enough to come to towne^ * Arthur, Earl of Torrington, eldest son of Sir Edward Her- bert, knight, attorney-general to King Charles II. by Margaret, daughter and heiress of Sir Thomas Smith. Arthur was created Earl of Torrington by King William. He entered the sea ser- vice early in life, and wa« employed against Algiers in 1683 ; In which expedition he so signalized himself as to be instituted rear-admiral of England, 4th February, 1684. On King James's accession to the throne, not choosing to comply with the measures of that iniquitious reign, he was turned out of all his employ- tnents; but taking an active and honourable part in the revolu- tion, was received into favour by William and Mary, and con- stituted first commissioner of the Admiralty. For his conduct in Bantry Bay, Ireland, against the French fleet on the 1st of May, 1684, he received the honour of peerage, by patent, bearing date the 29th of May in the same year. On June the 30th, 1690, he again fought the French fleet, but with less distinguished suc- cess ; an action which was thought so inglorious, that, in conse- quence of the general discontent, he was brought to trial to account for its result. Among the manuscript papers before the Editolr are the two following : the one endorsed, a <' Coppy of the letter to the Commons of the Admiralty, about " the tryall of the Earle of Torrington :" the other, " Rere-Ad- " mirall Rookes reasons, why he would not be of tlie court- -martial, held Dec. 10th, 90.'' — "To the Commissioners, ** &c..*' — •" After our hearty commendations, we doe hereby '* signifie unto you her Majesty's pleasure that you forthwith *' issue out a commission for the tryall of the Earle of Tor- " rington, by any sea commanders who were not in the late " engagement between the English and the French fleet. And " that in order thereunto, you issue out your warrant for com- " mitting the said Earle to the custody of yQur marshall. And [ 155 ] frost has hindered me from taking the ay re ou horseback, and my calesh breaking with the hazard of my neck, has deprived me of the conveniency of taking the ayre that way, which, I believe has a little retarded my recovery ; but, did I believe the King had any comands for me, I would run any hazard to receive them. If he should happen to ask you for me,, or without, / * so we bid5'^ou very heartily farewell. From the Council " Chamber in Whitehall, the 8th day of August, 1690. " Your very loving friends, " Carmarthen P. Norfolk E. Marshall, Bolton, Winchester^ " Devonshire, Bathe, Nottingham, Faulconherg, 3IontagUf *' Marlborough, H. Capell, John Loiuther, R. Hampden^ ** Hen. Powlet, J. Holt, Hen. Goodwick, Hen. Boscaiven. ^' To our very loving friends, the Commissioners for executing *•' the office of Lord High Admirall of England.'* " Gentlemen, — Before I proceede to take my oath, I must " begge the Court will please to excuse my sitting on my Lord " T — 's tryall, in regarde I had the misfortune of laying under " some unreasonable censures of being remisse in my duty in " that same action; andtho' I might dispense with bsingwit- " nesse and judge in this case, I can't, in honoure and con- ** science, give my vote of judgment where I have been a witnesse, " and where some people have unjustly rendered me a partie. " My case is different from every gontleman here; therefore I hope " my scruple in this case will influence no man heare. I have " given my depositions in as a witnesses and if I can bo further " serviceable to the King in that circumstance, I am verie readie " and willing to answer any questions the Courte may please to *' aske me. I doe this with all my duty and honoure to the K. " and the Lord High Admirall, and with all the respect imagin- " able to this Courte." On the tryall, the inequality of strength between the fleetiJ, and the disadvantage of the wind to the English, were so fully proved, that his Lordship was acquitted: but he was naturally much affected, and deeply disgusted, at the enquiry ; and never made any effort to be employed afterwards. [ 156 1 tvould it be improper to ask him that question, with a complement at the end? I am very sorry you will not afford a poor country farmer a little news, but cannot talce it unkindly, because I know 'tis with a good meaning to your most faithful humble servant, TORRINGTON, To the Right Hon. the Lord Herbert, Baron of Cherbury, at his house in Leicesjer-Fields, London. LETTER XCV. From the same to the same, iMunday, Yesterday I received your Lordship's letter by Mr. Greene, and am very glad to hear of the favour that is designed ine by your Lordship, and the rest of the good company, but I shall be much betterpleased in seeing the performance, though it should happen by the addittion of Doctor Radclif's company, who may venter, niow I am perfectly restored to health, and prety well furnished with wine frpm the Vine. I desire I may know the day before, , because brother Harry keeps me to hard exercise, if you think hunting every day is soe; and very often six or eight myle from home, and of those day es our return is to late to meet Londoners at dinner. I have another request, that it may be before Friday, because then wee have i 157 3 apoiiited a progresse, that will take us up some dayes; wee are just now going" out with the hounds, as w^ee have done Thursday, Friday, aud Saterday ; I know not weather wee shall tire ourselves, but wee are so keen at the sporte, that the Denzils pack and oure oune are hard put to it. We poore country bumkins please and satisfy ourselves wdth these poor diversions, without envie of the senate, that wee are told, pursue that miserable comission of the Admi- ralty, that has made the kingdom allmost as wretched as themselves. I wish them with all my heart eternally confounded, that wee poore country farmers mought injoy oure innocent diversions in peace and quiet, and the nation its trade, and more prosperite, than possibly it can under the management of sutch insipid ignorants, as that commission is composed of ; I know not well, why, I say this now, since you have long agoe, upon this subject, knowne the mynde of your Lordship's most humble servant, TORRINGTON, LETTER XCVI. From the same to the same. February 19, — 97. I could not let Brian come to towne without inquiring after your health, and desiering to know whether any day is apointed for the [ 158 ] eomitiiig the bill forjVSlcating the English grants ; that, since it is youropinioHj I may be iti towne at that tyme, though my health will but ill admit of it; and I am apt to thinke my presence will doe but little servise, for if the reason of the matter will not carry it, I doubt my small interest will not avayle much ; but however I acquiesse unto your bettter judgement, that am in all things, my Lord, your most faithful servant, TORRINGTOK LETTER xgvir. From the same to the same, Jan, 11. I had sooner returned you my hearty thanks for yours by Mr. Greene, but that I -could not prevayle with him to leave the country sooner than to-morrow morning. I have been very ill, indeed; but have now got the better of my distemper, after a very hard tug : it was a very violent cold, accompanied with as great a head ache and feavour, which have been all overcome by fasting and burnt brandy, as surely as Peeter has by the devill to rob and cheat every body that has trusted him, and me amongst the rest. He has, without taking leave, made an elope- ment to Scotland, as I suppose to starve there, in order to prevent being hanged here. I am sorry he is not accompanied with a horse-whip i U9 3 or two, for 'tis pity soe honest a gentlemaji should goe by himself. I shoaid be glad to hear what has been the success of the Lord against the three ladies, for romantick heads are sometvmes attended with extraordinary adventures. If any busnesse happens to stand in need of soe weake help as myne, I hope in a week's tyme to be able to obey a sunions; and in the mean tyme anv, my Lord, your most faithfull friend, and servant, ,^ TORRINGTON, LETTER XCYIII. From the same to the same, Feb. 20, —98. My Lord,—! received your Lordship's oa Saturday night, and am very glad to hear the King will honour our country w^ith his presence. I hope hunting will get him a good stomach, and then no doubt a country dinner will please him. I must desire you w411 doe me the favour, to send me one of your great salvers for glasses, and if occasion be, half a dozen knives, forks, and spoons^ and, my Lord, I desire, that at the same tyme you send me notice of the day the King will be here; you will send to Mr, Hinton, to lett him know against what tyme, h© [ iSd ] must send me the things I have writ for, because I should like to have every thing in order. I am ^ my Lord, your most hnmble and obedient servant, TOERlNGTONv LETTER XCIX. From the same to the same. Feb. 21, —98. 1 cannot let Brian goe, without a line, to desire your Lordship will not fayle to lett Mr. tlinton know the tyme, as soone as you doe ; for it is from him that I expect my provision. I think of coming to towne some tyme this week, if I have no commands to the contiary, I am, my Lord, your most humble servant, TORRINGTON. Mr Hinton lodges at Mr. Portman's, in Manchester- court, Westminster. LETTER G. From the same to the same. March the 6, —98. By what I can hear, the King still designs to hunt hear one day; but when, remains still under some uncertainty. I hope for tymely notice, because I should really be very much ashamed of a surprise. I would therefore beg one favour [ 1^1 ] more ; that your Lordship would send to Charles Christian, he lives in Orange-court, by Hedge- lane, he is to bring" me downe a cooke; pray doe me the favour to send for him, and tell him that you will give him early notice, when he is to- come, and pray lett him have notice, as soone as Mr. Hinton has, that he may be downe with me in tyme. I think of making a step to towns some tyme this week, and am your Lordship's most faithful humble servant, TORRINGTON. LETTER Cf, From the same to the same* Munday, April 1.8, -^98. This is to inquire how your country journey agreed with your health, and to lett you know, that it has perfectly establisht myne; pray if the King gives himself the trouble of inquiering after me, let him know^ that, what has some- tymes kept him longer in England, than consists with his affaires abroade, keepes me now in the country; that is, want of money; and, pray direct your butler to send me the six dozen bottels he refuses to give the waterman, for I am in great want of them. When the bill about estates granted comes into the house, pray put my good friend the solicitor in minde to alter my clause, I am your's, TORRINGTON, M [ 162 ] LETTER ClI. From the same to the same. Wensday* It is no small affliction to me you should have need of any servisse for me, at a tyme my health will not suffer me to attend it ; but I am sure you will the better excuse it, when you see, that though my all lies at stake, I am not in a condition to stirr. A bill is ordered to bee brought in, to vacate all grants made in this reigne. I hope for your Lordship's assistance for an exception to my grants ; the more, be- cause I am not able to attend it myself, that am^ my Lord, your most faithful, humble servant, TORRINGTOK LETTER CIIL From the same to the same. Munday, I had the favour of your's on Friday last, the first day of my ventering out of my chamber, after spitting blood for severall dayes. Nature and the w^eather will, I hope, set all to rights againe. I shall thinke myselfe much oblidged to you for what news your ley sure will afford tOj my Lord, your most faithfull, humble servant, TORRINGTON. [ 163 ] LETTER CIV. From Dr. Thos. Kn^ipe* to Lord Herbeht. SepL 19, 1696. My Lord,— I do not at all wonder that Mr« Herbert^J in his idle and careless fitts, which he has often been tront>led with, should put 3^our Lordship in a passion ; I am sure he has many and many a time vext me to the heart with them. But that he should make you displeased with me too, it is something' strange to me, who have not failed upon all occasions to acquaint your Lord- ship with his unsufferable negligence, and un- willingness to apply his mind to his business, which, if he had done of himself, or your Lordship and I could have prevailed with him to do, I * Dr. Thomas Knipe was master of Westminster School, and prebendary of Westminster. Dr. Wm. King, the celebrated civilian, dedicated to him his historical account of the Heathen Gods, &c.; in which dedication he makes the following handsome mention of Dr. Knipe, by whom he had been educated : " Though '* I have lost my natural parents, who were most indulgent to " me, and the grave Dr. Busoy, whose memory to me shall for " ever be held sacred, yet I thank God I have a master still *' remaining, to whom I may pay my duty and acknowledgments " for the benefits I have received in my education." Dr. Knipe died August 6, 1711 ; and was buried in Westminster Abbey, A long Latin inscription appears on his monument. X The young gentleman in question was Henry Herbert, son of Lord Herbert, and grandson of Sir Henry Herbert; and succeeded to the title and estate at Ribbesford on the death of his father, which happened on Jan. 22, 1708 — 9. When that event occurred, he was Member of Parliament forBewdley; and continued high steward and recorder of tJiat borough tillhi3 death in 1738* >X 2 r 164 ] should have had thanks for the success, tho' I have none for my great pains, care, and trouble. I was several times sending him home to your Lordship as hopeless, as indeed I have some- times threatened him ; but that I imputed his carelessness to his childishness, which, though it>has remained longer with him than others of his age, I expected would go off by degrees; and then I knew his parts, which I don't at all find fault with, joyned with the continuation of my care, would make amends for the neglect of his childhood, and please both your Lordship and himself at last; for learning is to children as tobacco is to some people, it makes them sick at firstj and when they have got the trick of it, they will never leave it. But hitherto he has been so much a child, that when he has been called from his play to his studies, he has stood in the yard, crying, and blubbering, and roaring, as your own servants have sometimes heard him, be- cause he might not play longer ; when other children have gone immediately to their studies, laughing all the way to see him such a child. If this infirmity of his leaves him, I don't doubt, but, upon his continuance with me, to finish him. And yet, my Lord, notwithstanding this averse- iiess, I have pour'd so much into him, as it wiere with a horn, that unless he dos it on purpose, he can make both true Latin and true verse, if he pleases. I am sure he hath don so, both in his i>wn chamber before Mr. Jones, and in my [ 165 ] room before me ; and if your Lordship propose him some reward he were very fond of, I believe he would do so before you. Your Lordship has been pleased to object to me, ten pounds a year extraordinary more then others pay me. If you shall be pleased to re-^ member, that such allowance was made ^Br taking up a whole chamber to himself, such a one, as by the admission of chamber fellows, I have received three times as much as your Lord^ ship payes; and that he has had the use of my goods, bed and bedding", &c., which all others bring along with them, and sometimes leave behind them ; and that I have not demanded any schooling, which he pay'd formerly, and others have pay'd to me, besides their boarding; I imagine your Lordship will not think 1 have such a different rate for him, as to have it objected tome. But it has not been for that, or for the want of that, that I have been more or less zealous in my duty ; but out of the great love I have for the child, whose good nature I will alwayes speak well of, and whose learning will, I hope, in time speak for itself, especially if he has not so many avocations as of late he has had; and out of the true honour I have alwayes had for your Lordship, so I am still ready to serve you, if you think fitt to try your son any longer here, and to make use of, my Lord, your Lordship's most faithful and humble servant, THO. KNIPE. [ 166 ] LETTER CV. JFVom the Rev. Anthony Lucas* to Lord Heubfht. Diihlyn^ StJi Dec. 1696, My Honored Lord, — Tho' I troubled your Lordship with a letter lately (by the Bishop of Ossory), yet 1 thought myself oblig-'d to give your Lordship an account of the suddain death of our Lord Chancellor, Sir Charles Porter,f who this day din'd and seeni'd very well; re- tired to his closet to write a letter, sat down in his chair, and dyed, not speaking* one word, not stirring either foot or hand. The surgeons us'd all proper meanes, but all was ineffectual!. I first gave my Lord Monmouth an account of it, who ordered the pacquets to be stopt. I pre- sume there will be a Councill to-morroWo Whatever is done here, of any moment, your Lordship shall have as faithful! a relation as I can procure. I sent by the Monmouth yatcht, to Chester, a small present of Usquebagh, which I hope will come by Chest: carrier safe to * Rector of Ribbesford, on the presentation of Lord (when Mr.) Herbert; who also obtained Irish preferment for him. f " He was chancellor when Lord Capel was deputy, and his 5^ opponent in politics ; befriending the cause of the Irish against " the severity of his Lordship's administration, A motion was " made in the House of Commons, in consequence of this oppo- " sition, to impeach him; bnt he vindicated himself before the *' House, and was voted clear of all imputation.^' — Smollet, ix. ^(i. [ 167 ] your Lordship speedily. With very humble service to my Lady, and Mr. Herbert. I am, my honoured Lord, your Lordship's ever obliged humble servant, ANT. LUCAS^ My wife, I thank God, is recovering. LETTER CVI. From Mr. J. Talbott* to the same. Cambridge, 9>St1i Nov. 1697. My Lord, — The Yice-Chancellor having fa- voured me with the disposal of some copies of our book of verses upon the peace, I was ambitious of thisopportunity of presenting one to your Lord- ship, as a token of our loyalty to the king, and of my dutiful respects to your Lordship, whose courage was so eminently instrumental in begin- ningthat glorious deliverance, which his Majesty has so happily accomplished. I doubt, my Lord, the criticks of the Dra wing-Room will be some- what disappointed by our omission of English poetry, which is not the constant growth of this soil. 'Tis enough, if once in a reign our uni- versity can produce a Montague or a Dryden : * James Talbot, D.D. and publisher of an edition of Horace. He died the 20th of October, 1708, and lies buried at Spofforth, Yorkshire, of which parish he was rector .^ — Nichols's Literanj Anecdotes, voL iv.p. 174. C 168 ] here are many, indeed, that might be more willing than the later to complement the go- vernment upon this joyful occasion ; but as we have very few (if any) that can pretend to the abilities of those great masters, soe it was thought adviseable not to encourage any attempts in that kind, from which we could promise our- selves so little success. But though our Latin poetry is not calculated for the meridian of the court, your Lordship, I hope, who is so able a judge, may find some entertainment in this book ; which, indeed, might have been better, if it had been shorter by one page, and the trifle which you'll find at the latter end, had "been omitted; but the authority of the Vice- Chancellor's commands upon me, to close the book, prevailed with me above the consideration of my own defects ; which as your Lordship's judgment must discern, so I know your good- ness will excuse. With my most humble ser- vice to my lady, and duty to Mr. Herbert, I remain your Lordship's most obedient humble servant, J. TALBOT. Mr. Bedell, by whom I send this, has pro- mised to present your Loidshij) with a book, as soon as one is presented to the King. [ 169 ] '"■:'. ?■'■' LETTER CVII. ?;i From Lady Every* to the same. Feb.lQth. Dear Brother, — You are not consarned wheather your poore sister has laine under a snow drift this severe weather, but soils your- selfe with your fine ladye, or what may give you satisfaction; an truly, without fooling", 1 inust tell you noe dog* would a lived in the coun- tery this winter, but those hose husbands are masters, for the like was never felt nor suffered. Snow, frost, an floods not to be related, but nove wee begine to live againe. Sence you ware hear, I have never ben out of doors. I love to be free an easey with you, an I cannot forbeare teilinsf you that Jack dos not manado-e his interest right with neather father nor mother; he makes himselfe master of his tyme, gives noe account when he goes out, lyes much at neighbor's houses, is tomuche an idle younger brother, which I ever hated the thoughts of. Is it not posibl& to find out som iniployment for him? Muney should not be wanting to pay for any thing, if he would lay his inclination to it; he much weakens his intrestwith his father, and I have * When it is recollected, that Lady Vere Every was horn in the }ear 1627; this and the following letter will be considered worth insertion, from the specimens they af.ord of a singular ^spriglitliness of mind at the advanced age of 75! [ 170 ] much adoe to keepe a right understanding in his behalfe, which, I feare, will not be long; but all this pray keepe to yourselfe. The Lady Muntington sent to me this day to se me. She is not yet brought to bed. She is under my circumstance, full sick of ill weather. The poore Lord Chesterfield has had an ill winter of it, and the Lady Bellamonnt ; but I thank God, with wine and good fires we are all very well; an it will be a great satisfaction to me to heare that you an Harry ware so. Duty an sar vices whare due, an receave the true affection of your sister and servant, Y, EVEKY, LETTER CVIII. From the samSy to the same, July 6, —98. I cannot let you alone, but must needs inquire after my deare brother's good nature, what is become of it ? I am shure you have not sent any of it into Darbyshire this good while. I finde it has. not holy left the men, for the last Saturday Mr. Cooke was married to Lady Mary Stanhope ; we were there, the only neighbours invited. On Friday next, all the acquaintances must make a gr<^at day of it, and my Lord apeares very much pleased. Its reported that Sir John Waters comes very speedily to marry f 171 3 Betty Vernon, cloatbes are conse downe for tlia*. perpus; but some is willing to beleve it may prove a disapointment, for so much good fortune is not wished hir by all; hir great buly is not so charming to all in this countrey, it has been to long looked upon. The Lord Huntington is gon for London. His Lady I mete to morrow at Darby. This is all my newes, and the satisfac^ tion of your health and Harrys will obiidge your affectionate sister and servant, V. EVERY. I cannot give you Sir H. E.'s service, for he is gon to Captain Laines. I hope he is well; poore Nan is your faithful servant. LETTER CIX. From Monsieur Boyer* to Lord Herbert. Hanslop, July 2d, 1699. My Lord, — In obedience to your Lordships command, this is to give you an account of Mr. Herbert's studies, and 1 wish I may do it, so as * Abel Boyer, a well-kno^n glossograpLer and historiogra- pher, was born at Castres, in France, in the year 1664. Upon the revocation of the edict of Nantes he went to Geneva, and from thence to Francker, where he finished his studies. After- wards he came over to England, v* here he spent the remainder of his life, and died at Chelsea upon the 16th Nov. 1729. His works were, an excellent French and English Dictionary, a French Grammar, " The Political State of Great Britain,'' and *'The History of King William and Queen Mary.'' — Biog, Diet, V, a, 300. [ 172 ] to give satisfaction both to your Lordship and him, without doing- injustice to either. The truth is^ our progress has been but slow ; but, however, 'tis such as cannot justly merit your Lordship's disapprobation. Feslinat lente, may be the motto of Mr. Herbert, in relation to his exercises. There remains still in him an averseness to books, which is not a little fortified by the frequent opportunities he has of going abroad to his country sports; but then your Lordship's orders are a prevailing motive to bring him to his studies ; so that all he does must be ascribed to the desire he has of beins: dutiful!. On my part I do all that lies in my power to discharge the trust your Lordship has been pleased to repose in me, and to shew with how much respect and reality I am, my Lord, your Lordship's very humble and most obedient servant, A. BOYEK. LETTER ex. From Lord GodoivPhin,* to Loud Henry Herbert. Sept. 24, —98. My Lord, — I have the honour of your Lord- ship's letter, as also of the former mentioned in it; * The interesting Burnet has given us the following sketch of the character of this great man, and profound statesman. He [ 173 ] I have spoken several times with Mr. Baber, my Lady Simderlaiids agent, in order to conclude yourtedious affayre; hee seems still desiring" to agree it, but would not bee positive till he had spoken with my lady herselfe, who being now iu town, I hope a very short time will bring it to amend. I give your Lordship many thanks for • was the younger brother of an ancient family in Cornwall, thathad been bred about King Charles II. from a page, and was consi- dered as one of the ablest men that belonged to his court. He was the silentest and modestcst man that was perhaps ever bred in a court. He had a clear apprehension, and dispatched business with great method, and with so much temper that he had no personal enemies ; but his silence begot a jealousy which had hung long upon him. His notions were for the country, but his in- rupt and sincere way of managing the treasury created in all people a very high esteem for him. He loved gaming the most of any man of business I ever knew; and gave one reason for it, because it delivered him from the obligation to talk much. He had true principles of religion and virtue, and was free from all vanity; and never heaped up much wealth: he was one of the wisest and \\dttiest me^i that have been employed in our time ; and he had much of the confidence of four of our succeeding Princes. Vol. i. 487. The early part of Godoiphin's political life is the least consonant with the principles of honour and pa- triotism ; nor can we avoid being deeply hurt when we see him, together with Sunderland, Rochester, and Lord Churchill, (after- wards Duke of Marlborough,) consenting to be agents, and go betweens, iu the wretched intrigue of James with Louis XIV, by which James (like his brother Charles II.) was compromising the liberty- and independence of his country for French gold. " It is " with difficulty,'' says Mr. Fox, in detailing the particulars of this part of the English History, " that the reader can per- " suade himself, that the Godolphin and Churchill liere mentioned " are the same persons who were afterwards, one in the Cabinet "" and another in the field, the great conductors of the war of the " succession.'" — History, ^c. p. 88. Godolphin at the date of thift correspondence was First Comjnissioner of the Treasury. [ 174 ] your offer to send mee some cyder, but it does not agree with mee, and will therefore spare you that trouble. I am, my Lord, your Lordship's most obedient servant, GODOLPHIN. LETTER CXI. From Lord Henry Herbert to Lord GODOLPHIN. Sept. 30, —95. I'm extreamly oblig-ed to your Lordship foi^ the favour of your letter, in answer to which, and once more, 1 must beg an addition to your many favours, thai if Lady Sunderland, Mr. Stephen Fox, Mr. Baber, or any body else, make any more delays in this tedious affaire, you will be pleased to give your judgment in it, since 'tis refer'd to you. But if that be too much for me, I desire you will get me the judgment of your board upon the wilful defaults of Robson, and you will forever oblidge, my Lord, your real servant, HERBERT. May I beg the great favour of a line from you. [ 175 J LETTER CXII. The Duke of Shrewsbury* to Lord Henry Herbert. Thursday Morning. My Lord, — Upon Tuesday in the night I was taken with such a paine and weakness in one of my knees, that I coudn't move without help, nor stir out of my chamber, which forces me to ask your Lordship's excuse for not wait- ing on you to-morrow, as I designed, and as I shall always be desirous to do, w^hen I am able^ being, my Lord, your Lordship's most faithfull and obedient servant, SHREWSBURY. I have sent no notice to Mr. Bromley, not knowing but your Lordship might desire to meet him. * Charles Talbot, Earl, and created Duke^ of Shrewsbury by King William, in 1693, had been educated a Papist, butrenoMnced that faith, after very ciitical and anxious investigation of its pretensions. It was conceived by some that his enquiries had given a tinge of scepticism to his mind; but his honour and probity were unimpeachable. His learning was considerable ; Ms judgment sound ; and his temper equal and amiable. He Lad much power, at different times ; and he always executed it with credit to himself, and satisfaction to others. Like all other courtiers, he experienced the ebbs and flows of Royal patronage ; but, though often envied, and sometimes out of favour, his well- known excellence, and long-experienced usefulness, always restored him to the confidence, which he had for a time unde- servedly lost. [ 170 1 LETTER CXIJI. From the same to the same, Grafton, I6th Oct, 1699* My Lord, — I should have been very sorry that your Lordship or Mr. Herbert should have g-iven yourself the trouble of so inconvenient a journey as this weather will now make the roads hereabouts, to give me thanks for what is rather an obligation on my side. I am sorry I cannot do your son the complement of proposing him to the King for a deputy lieutenant, the law requiring him to be of age before he is enabled to act in that station. His lieutenant and cornet were bothhere yesterday, and seem extream happy and satisfied. The quarter-master was here also ; and tho' he say'd nothing tome, I hear he expressed himself much discontented at the cornet's being put over his head. I was in hopes your Lordship had mentioned it to him ; and concluded, that being nearly related to Mr, Baret, he had settled this with his consent. I am sure his Majesty is so assured of your Lordship's zeal for his service, that he is en- tirely disposed to give you all possible marks of his favour and esteem. It is presumption in a man, who is forced to be such a cypher himself, to offer his assistance to another; but I desire always to be commanded by you when you think it possible for me to be of the least use [ 177 ] to you ; and tho' 1 am not a powerfall, I shall ever be your Lordship's faithfull, humble servant, SHREWSBURY. LETTER CXIV. From the same to the same, Tuesday Morn. My Lord, — Being" obliged by my illness to go out of towne for some time, I could not omit giveing your Lordship thanks for your present of braun ; and at the same time acquainting you, that I shall be the readiest in the world to serve Mr. Lechmere's son; but at present, nor since I had the staff, there has been no vacancy proper to be offered to him; and I doubt in my disposal], there are no places of such a nature as he expects, they being all of small value, and no busyness beyond makeing a legg or setting a chair * I am, my Lord, your Lordship's most faithfull,, humble servant, SHREWSBURY. * The Duke of Shrewsbury was appointed Lord Chamberlain in 1699. N appeii^ii: : Consisting of curious 313, Documents, illustrating the foregoing Letters. No. 1 I^OPY of Warrant for the payment of /'o2 to the Master of the Revells. 2 Ditto of the Demands of Sir Henry Herbert for his wagos. 3 Ditto of Warrant granted to Fencers. 4 Ditto of Mr. Thomas Killegrew's Promissory Note to Sir H. Herbert. 5 Ditto of Sir Henry Herbert's Heads of Instruction to Mr. Thomas Kiiiegrew. 6 Ditto of a Prayer composed by Edward Lord Her- bert of Cherbury. 7 Ditto of ditto by King Charles I. 8 Ditto of ditto by Sir Henry Herbert. 9 Ditto of Sir Henry Herbert's Notes during the Northern Expedition. 10 Ditto of a Grant of Wardship to Sir H. Herbert. 11 Ditto of Form of Protestation Oath, administered by Prince Rupert. 12 Ditto of Articles exhibited against John Boraston, clerk, 13 Ditto of additional Articles against ditto. 14 Ditto of a relation of what passed at the Council, between Lord Sidney and Sir Rowland Gwynne, April 9, 1692. N 2 [ 180 ] No. 1, Warrant for the Payment of Fiftie-two Pounds to Sir Henry Herbert, kt. Mr. of the Revells* for his lodgeinge out of Court by the space of 52 Weekes, ended at our Ladie-daie last, 1627. WHEREAS you are authorized by virtue of bis Majestie's Letters Patents, beareinge d^te the l6tb * The office of the Reveils was first instituted in the reign of Henry VIII. in the year 1546, and placed under the department ef the Lord Chamberlain. The objects included within its jurisdiction were numerous, as appears from tlie " Heads of " Instruction given to Mr. Thomas Killegrew,'' in No. 4 of this Appendix. Sir Thomas Cawarden, who died 1559, was first appointed to the mastership ; and was succeeded by Sir Thomas Borenger, or Benger, on the appointment of Queen Elizabeth. JBorenger died in March 1577 ; the office, however, of Master of the Revells does not appear to have been again filled till 1579, when Edmund Tilney, who is called Majister Ludorum in the Register of the Herald's College, was appointed to it. During his exercise of the authority of his, then, important place, the weighty matter of the precedence of the Master of the Revells was settled; and a certificate, bearing date the 43d of Elizabeth, authorised Edmund Tylney, esq; " to myngle " with those knightes off.eers that have their precedencies " before all other batchelor knightps.'' With the consent, or by the recommendation of Tylney, George Bucke, his kinsman, obtained a reversionary grant of the office of the Revells in June 1603, at which time he was knighted, and ap- pointed one of the King's gentlemen of the privy chamber, and began to act as assistant to T}lney about tvvo years afterwards. Either unable or unwilling to exercise the functions of his office longer, he resigned it, at the close of the year 1621, (two years before his death,) to Sir John Astlcy, knight. Sir Henry Herbert succeeded Sir John Astiey as Master of the Revels in 1623, through the interest, probably, of his relation, Philip Earl of Pembroke, then Lord Chamberlain, and held the office till his death in 1673, through a period of 50 years. From No. 4, Ap- pendix, it should seem that Mr, Thomas Killcgrev/ was appointed [ 181 ] daie of June, l625, made and granted in confiimacon of diverse warrants and privie scales unto you formerlie directed in the tyine of our late deceased sovereigne King James, (amongest other thinges) to make pay- ment for the lodgings for such of his Majestie*s servants as are allowed them, and yet are not lodged withiu anie of his Highaes houses: Theis are to pray and require yon, out of his Majestie's treasure in your charge, to paie, or cause to be paid, unto Sir Henry Herbert, knightCj Master of his Majestie's Revells, the some of fiftie aad twoe pounds, being after the rate of xxs. a weeke for his lodgeing out of courte by thd space of fiftie and twoe weekes, viz. from the Feast of Annunciacon of our blessed Virgin Marie, 1626, to the Feast of Annunciacon of our said blessed Virgin Mary, next after followinge, 1627, as by his bill, certified by Wm. Glover, esq; one of his Majestie's gentlemen ushers, and dailie wayters, hereto annexed, may appeare. And theis, togeither with his acquittance by Sir Henry Herbert, Ms deputy or assistant in the office during the Knight's life ; but however this may be, he was succeeded in it by this gentleman, on his death. la 1683, Killegrew himself died; and Charles Killegrew was appointed to the vacant office. During five successive reigns this gentleman exercised the now limited authority of Master of the Revells ; and left an office nearly nominal, in 1725, to Charles Hemy Lee, who by his death vacated it in 1744, and made room for the last Master of the Revells, Solomon Dayroile ; though, as Mr. Chalmers observes, it is not easy to tell wherein his office consisted, except that he had a lodging of no convenient extent, and a fee of no great value. His ancient jurisdiction had been transferred in 1737, by legal authority, to a licenser of the stage, and to the deputy licenser ; who thenceforth performed between them all the functions of the ancient office of the Master of the Revells, and are, to this day, empowered, by legal means, to execute the invidious trust. — 'See Chalmers's interesting and curious " Supplemental Apology /* for the Believers in the Shakespeare Papers." — P. 210. [ 182 ] for the receipts thereof, shall be yoar warrant. The* obalds, this 17 of Julie, 1627. MONGOMORIE. To Sir William Uvedale, knight, Treasurer of his Majestie's Chamber. Mensihus Martii^ Aprilis, Marii, Junii, Julii, Augustif SeptembriSf Octobr,, l^ovemhr., Decemh\^Januar.y Febr., et Martii ; amiis 1626, et 1627, Amioque Regni Regis Car oil 2d, et 3a. Sir Henry Herbert, knight, Mr. of his Majestie's Kevells, asketh allowance for his lodging, not being lodged in anie of his Majestie's houses by the space of fiftie-tvvo weekes, viz. from the Feast of the Aununciac5n of our blessed Virgin Mary, 1626, unto the Feast of Annunciacon of the said blessed Virgin next following, J627, dureing which tyme he hath given his attendance ^at Courte, and been at charges for his lodging dureing the said tyme, in attending his said service, after the rate of xxs. per weeke, which lie prayes maie bee paid unto him by the Treasurer of his Majestie's Chamber. £bi. WILLIAM GLOVER. No. 2. .The Pemandesof Sir Henry Herbert, knight, for his wages and board wages, Sfc, as Master of the Revells to the- late King* Due to him to the last of October, 1638, as apeares by the Auditor's Bookes of Accountes, and by a Privy Scale, dated the sixtheof February, in the 16 yeare of the then Kinge Charles, the some of 1065 12 10 C 183 1 Due to him for dyet and boardinges, as appeares by the Auditor's Bookes of Accountes for 1639 230 Due to him for the lyke for 1640, l641, and 1642, being three yeares, the some of 69O Due to him for four years Fees, at/ 10 per annum, to 1643 ^ 40 Some is /'«025 12 10 No. Si Copy of a Warrant granted to Fencers. With the favour and priviledge of his Highnes the Duke of Yorke, it is agreed upon, by and betweene Francis Burges and WilHam Tubb, to play a tryall of skill at eight several! weapons, which are hereunder expressed, on the thirteenth day of August next, being Monday, at the Red Bull Playhouse.—SOth July. 166O. The Weapwns of Francis Burges The Weapons of Wfii, T%ibh Backe Sword Single Rapier Sword and Gantlet Rapier and Dagger Sword and Dagger Halfe Pike Sword and Buckler. Quarter Staffe. Whereas his Highnes the Duke of Yorke hath been pleased to comende unto me Francis Burges and Wm. Tubb, for a warant to playe a prize. These are to authorize the said Frances Burges and William Tubb to playe a prize at the weapons above named, at the House called the Red Bull, and for so doinge this shall be their warant. Dated the 30th July, 166O, H. HERBERT. [ 184 1 No. 4. ^•Mr. KillegreweV Promise to pay the Costes of Suite against the PlayersX, Julley 14, 166-2. I, Thomas Killigrew, doe by this presentesobleige myselfe to paey to Sir Henry Herbert all the costes and charges he shall apr, othe make apear, to be ex- pendded in the sute betwixt him and the Kinges * Thomas Killea^rew was page of honour to Charles 1st, and gentleman of the bedchamber to Charles lid, who, in 1651 appointed him his resident in Venice. He was a man of wit and humour, and frequently entertained the King with his drollery. As Charles v/as wholly employed by his pleasures, and frequently in his mistress's apartments, when he should have been at the Counsel board, Killegrew took the following method to admonish him of his extreme Megligence, in regard to the affairs of the kingdom. He dressed himself in a pilgrim's habit, went into the King's chamber, and told him that he hated himself and the world; that he was resolved inmiediately to leave it, and was then entering upon a pilgrimage to hell. The King asked him what he proposed to do there? He said " to speak to the devil, ** to send up Oliver Cromwell to take care of the English Govern- '*ment, as he had observed, with regret, that his successor was " always employed in other business." Ch^anger. Nothing, perhaps, ©an furnish a stronger proof of the contemptible character of Charles's court, and the degraded nature of his government, than the fact of such a wretched profligate as Killegrew being placed in a situation of official trust, confidence, and dignity. If his literary acquirements may be estimated by his ill-spelt and ill-written promissory note, they were of the most limited, the most abject description. For his connection with the office of Master of the Revells, see the note in Append. No. 1. X In the latter end of the year 1659, some months before thd restoration of King Charles II., the theatres, which had been suppressed during the usurpation, began to revive, and several plays were performed at the Red Bull, in St. John's-street, in that and the following year, before the return of the King. la l 185 ] companye of acters, in the axion of the caes which he had a werdict for against them, in leid Hall, woen (owing); and a part thereof, fortey pound, I hafe paid him. Witness my hande and seale the day and date over saide, THO. KILLIGREWE. Witnessy JO.CAREW, L. KIRKE. WALTER GYLES. No. 5. The heads of lohat I gam to Mr. Tho. Killegrew the 29th of March, 1664. 1, To have a general! warrant for musick throughout England, wfiich is practised already, but many are very obstinate, and refuse to take lycences, especially in cities and townes corporate, under the pretence of being freemen. June, 1660, three companies seem to have been formed ; one in Salisbury-court; that at the Red Bull; and one at the Cockpit, in Drury-Iane. Sir Henry Herbert, who still retained the office of Master of the Revels, endeavoured to obtain from the com- panies the same emoluments which he had formerly derived from the exhibition of plays; but, after a long struggle, and after having brought several actions at law against Sir Wm. Davenant, Mr. Betterton, Mr. Mohun, and other players, he was obliged to relinquish his claims, and his office ceased to be attended with either authority or profit. It received its death wound from a grant from Charles II. Aug. 21, 1660, authorizing Mr. Thos. Killegrew and Sir Wm. Davenant to erect two new Theatres, and two new companies, of which they were to have the regulation; and prohibiting any other theatrical representation in London, Westminster, or other places, but those exjiibited by the said two companies. Malone's historical aecount of the English stage : edition of Shakespeare, 1813, vol. iii, page 293, 294. C is^ ] 2. There being manj complaints of abuses in dancing schoolesj for want of a due inspection and regulation, an order is desired (as it is a most proper branch of the Revells) that I may bee impowered fto licence all the dancing schooles, and to bind them respectively against 7m'xt dancing in the schooles, and other practises, which at present begette a scandalous report of them. This work is already began, and submitted to by some; but it cannot bee done generally, unles countenanced by regall authority. 3. Touching wakes or rurall feasts, (another proper- branch of tiie Revells,) which are annually observed in the greatest part af England, it is humbly desired, that some countenance may be putt upon the lycencing of them, by which means many disorders may bee pre- vented; and though there bee but 10s. from the most eminent towns, and 5s. from the meaner parishes, (to bee paid annually by the churche wardens,) it will not only bee a good advancement to the office of the Revells, but will much civilize the people, who are commonly dissordered at those feasts, which are constantly at- tended with revelling and musick. 4. All quack salvers and empyrickes, under the deno- mination of mountebankes, are properly belonging to the Revells, but will not come in (notwithstanding several summons') untill compelled by regall authority, 5. The royall oake lottery, which is a modell or dumb shew, and sortition, and as cleerely belonging to the Revells as the small lottery or pricking bookj, which have (ab ant'guoj been commissioned by the office, the persons herein concerned are obstinate, and will not come in, unles compelled by his Majestic'* authority. 6. For gaming, though the justices throughout England (amongst other things) bind the victuallers in [ IS? ] recognizances of £stO apiece, not to tolerate gaming in iheir houses ; yet, nevertheless, under their noses, aad to the knowledge of most justices, gaming is sett up and tolerated. Now in regard it is against the letter of the law to lycence gaming, (though to do the same is consistent with the Master of the Revells' patent,) it is desired, with some cautious lymitation, that his Majesty would countenance this particular, as to the lyceucing all upon easy termes, by which meanes every victueller may bee bound to observe lawfull sea- sons, and good orders, otherwise it will become a common custome to play on fast days, in time of divine service, and at other seasons prohibited ; and therefore some expedient to bee used that may please his Majesty, and support the power of the Revells, which hath beea very much enervated, and weakended by the late times of trouble and distraction. 7. Though to grant lycences for gaming, hath been practised ever since his Majesty's happy returne, by the groome porter^ and Poyntz, yet as to my particular, (who have not enjoyed the employment above nine months,) I doe act under many feares, and with much tenderness, to those few who have submitted, least I should offend the law of the land ; and therefore once again e humbly desire, that some safe expedient may bee found out to reconcile the law and the King's prerogative. No. 6. A Prayer by Edward Lord Herbert, of Cherbury. O God ! Thou, by whose power and wisdome all things at first were made, and by whose providence and goodness they are continued and preserved, still behold, from thy everlasting dwellinge above, me thy creature [ 188 ] and inhabitant of this lower world, who, from thfs valley of change and corruption, lifting up his heart and eyes to thee his eternal God and Creator, does here ac- knowledge and confess these manifold blessings, these vast gifts bestowed on me ; as namely, that before I yet was, when I could neyther know nor consent to be great and good, thy eternall providence had ordained me this being, by which 1 was brought into this world, a living, free, and reasonable creature, not senseless or bruitish, but capable of seemge and understandings thy wondrous works herein ; and not only so, but of usinge and enjoyinge them, in that plentifull measure, wherein they have been hiiherto afforded me. O Lord^ with all humbleness i confess^ that were there no other pledge of thy favour than this alone, it were more than any of thy creatures in this life can possibly deserve. But thy mercies go farther yet. Thou hast not only made me see, know, and partake thy works, but hast suf- fered me to love thee for the blessings shewed us in them. I say, Thou hast admitted fraile dust and ashes to so high adignity as to love Thee, the infinite and eternall beauty. And not only disdainost it not, but acceptest, yea, and rewardest the same: and whence can this come, but from thy everlasting goodness, which, had it not vouchsafed to love me first, I could not have had the power (than which man has no greater) of loving Thee againe. Yet here thy mercies stay not. Thou hast not only given mee to know and love Thee, but hast written in my heart a desire even to imitate and bee like Thee, (as farre as in this fraile flesh 1 may;) and not only so, but many ways inabled me to the per- formance of it. And from hence, Lord, with how much comfort do I learne the high estate I received in my creation, as b6inge formed in thy owne simi- litude and likenesse. [ 189 1 But, O Lord, thy mercies (for they are infinite) are not bounded even here. Tboii hast, then, not only given uiee the means ot knowinge, lovinge, and inii- tatinge Thee in this life, but hast given mee the ambition of knowinge, lovinge, and imitaiinge Thee after this life; and for that purpose hast begunne in luee a desire of happinesse, yea, of eternall bUsse, and from thence proceeded to give niee hope; and not only so, but also a faith, vi^hich does promisse and assure niee, that since this desire can come from none but Thee, nothing Thou doest can be in vain. What shall 1 saj^, then, but desire Thee, O Lord! to fulfill ii in thy good tyme, to mee, thy unworthy creature, who, in this flesh, can come no nearer Thee, then the desireing that TuortaUty. which both keeps mee from rhy abode, and makes mee most unlike Thee here. Amen, N. B. From the original, in the hand-writing of Edward Lord Cherbury. No. 7. A Prayer by King Charles L* Most gracious and raercifull God! who art the God of all mercies andxonsolations, looke upon us in mercy, not in wrath ; in judgment, not in fury. Spare us, good Lord ; spare thy people, whom Thou hast redeem'd with thy most pretious blood, and bee not * As the above beautiful and affecting prayer is not to be found either in the Eikon Basilike, or among " diverse of his *' Majestie's Prayers/' &c. &c. published m. 1649, there seems every probability that it is now irst presented to the public. The copy from which it is transcribed is in the hand-writing- of Sir Henry Herbert, who was the faithful friend and steady adherent of the unfortunate monarch.— /S'ee Wopd's Athence, v. ii. p 524. [ 190 ] angry with us for ever. If Thou should'st bee extreamc, O Lord, to niarke what is done amisse, who may abide it? But there is mercy with Thee, that Thou may*st bee feared : and in the multitude of thy mercies, doe away our otfences ; blotte out all our iniquities ; purge us with ysope, and wee shall bee cleane ; wash us, and wee shall be whiter than snow. Wilt thou bee dis- pleased at us for ever? and wilt thou stretch our thy wrathe from one generation to another ? Turn us, then, O God our Saviour, and wee shall bee turned, that thy anger may cease from us. Quicken us, that we may rejoyce in Thee. Speake peace, O Father, ■unto thy sons, unto this people, " mountains of peace," which are thy " blessings of peace." Dispose, O Lord, our hearts to peace. Punnishe the enemies to our peace; punnishe the insurrection of evill doers; punnishe them that delight in warre; confounde all their devises, all their wicked imaginations, .that they may not prosper, but that the bones which Thou hast broken may rejoyce. Showe us againe, O Saviour, the light of thy countenance, and wee shall be whole. Helpe us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of thy name; deliver us-, and bee mercifuU unto us, for thy name^s sake, for thy son Jesus Christ's sake. G let the sorrowfull syghing of thyne afflicted and humbled people come before Thee. G let the faith full prayers of thy penitent and prostrate servants, offer a pleasinge •violence unto Thee, for the cryinge sins of this nation ; that thy Holy Spirit may descende upon them, who at this tyme are assembled for peace. Inflame, G Lord, their hearts with the desire and benefits of peace^ and renew right spirits within them. Direct all their con- sultations and councells for Thy honour, the good of this Church, and this kingdome; that mercy and truth being mett together, righteousness and peace may kiss r 191 ] each other; that being reconciled to lis, and wee to Thee, in Christ Jesus, Thou may*st bee our shep- herde, and wee the sheepe of thy pasture; givinge Thee thanks far ever and ever, and shewinge forthe thy prayses from generation to generation, through Jesus Christ our Lord and only Saviour. J men. Feb. 15, 1644. REX. No. 8. *^ Praiers and Meditations in Old Age^ By Sir Henry Herbert. O God, who art the antient of daies, and the Father of eternitie, Thou wiliest that in all seasons and ages thy children be disposed for deathe. How much more ought I to prepare my selfe ; F, O Lord, who am full of yeares, and have already one foote in the grave ? What is the exteriour man, which falls at tlie twinck- linge of the eye? Grant, therefore, that the interiour bee renewed daily; that this infirme body, which bowes towards the earthe, may instructe mee to raise my thoughts to heaven ; ttiat the age which hath wrinckled my foreheade and skyn, may blotte out the sins of my soule, and drive away the troubles and anxieties of my heart ; that the age which makes my knees to tremble, and my haires to bee graie, may fortifie my faith, and refreshe my hopes ; and that deathe, which treades on my heeles, may make me to embrace the Prince of Life ! O Governour of heaven and earthe, Thou seest the pitiful] condition to which I am reduced I begin to bee tmuhiesome to myselfe, and unproffitable toothers; my soule is aweary of my life, but rather of my de- caye, for I doe now but entertaine a dyinge life, or [ 192 ] rather a liveing deathe. My^Creator and my GodI I was put into thy protection before I was borne, and from my mother's wombe Thou hast been my powerful God! 'Tis Thou, God of bounties, who hast blessed my infancy, and crowned all my dales with th}' paternall grace, and with thy pretious favours. Leave me not in my weake and white age ; and now that my strengthe failes, bee Thou the rocke of my hearte, and the power of my life. My yeares are glided away as a flood of waters, and I am noe more but a shadowe of a shadowe that is no more. But Thou art alwaies like unto thyselfe, and thy yeares shall endure for ever. As thy being is without be- gininge, so it is without ende. Renewe my dales as those of the eagle ', reanimate and reheete these colde, dead ashes; but rather tender me thy hande from above, drawe me from this house, which is all rotten ■with age, and withdrawe me into thy new Jerusalem. I liave loste the taste of meate and drinke on the earthe; it is time that Thou relieve me with the delicates of thy holy table, and make me drinke of the new wine of thy kingdome. I am already as out of the world ; my life holds only by a stringe. Lord, per- mit thy servant to go in peace accordinge to thy worde, for mine eies have scene thy salvation. Jpril the 6lh, — 72, at W^stmlnsier. Sir Henry Herbert'^ Graces. Grace before Dinner, O Lord, bless these thy creatures unto our use; make them wholsome for us, us thankfuU for them, through Jesus Christ our Lord and only Saviour, C 193 ] After Dipjier. God bee praysed; God save bis Churcbe, tbe Kinge, Queeiie, Royall Issue, and the Realms ; God forgive Ms our sins, and (make ns thankfull: or,) cease the plague amongst us. Amen. N.B. From the aiitogiaph of Sir Henry Herbert. No. 9. Notes and Observations by Sir Henry Herbert, during the Northern Expedition. — (MS.) April 12, 1639. AtYorke. fhe Lord Trequar, treasurer of Scotland, confined to his Chamber for three dales, but releast on Easter day, and sent for Scotland ; the Lord Dyate went with him. The cfowne and robes were taken at . The Covenanters tooke them, and in great ceremony bare the n away, and caryed them to the Castle of Edenbouroughe, wher they ought to lye,"^ * The Commissioaers under royal authority on Wednesday bpened the great iron chests in the Crown Room in Edinburgh Castle, and found the whole Regalia of Scotland in high order. They were found to contain the crown, sceptre, and sword of state ; and also a silver rod of office. — -So soon as the existence of these precious relics was ascertained, the royal standard was hoisted, and the soldiers cheered a salute, which v/as heartily echoed from the Castle Hill, where a numerous crowd had as- sembled, anxious to learn the event of the search after these in- teresting memorials, on the fate of which some mystery had been supposed to rest. The workmanship of the cro^n and sceptre is highly elegant, and in good taste ; the sword, a present from Pope Julius to James IV., is of a pattern corresponding to the excellence of the arts in Italy at that classical period. The N , t 194 ] Aberdyne taken by the Covenanters, and tlie Marquis of Huntleye chaste to his castle, whither he was followed, and wher he swore to the Covenant in 81.^ They tooke armes for 4000 men and muni- tion, which the King had sent to M. Huntley for the defence of Aberdyne. Marquis Hunt- ley had received from the Kinge ^^ 20,000. Not a blowe strucke ; the reason given by the Marquis was, that the towne was divided for the ICing and Covenanters, Lesley commandes 2500 foote, which are drawne towards Barwicke, and 600 horse. Marquis Huntley's son commandes a troope. When more men are put into Barwicke the Covenanters encrease their number with Lesley. The Covenanters offer to be tryed by the ■Parliament of England, and to put in caution of £^200,000, to abyde their judgment. legalia were replaced in the chest: and the Commissioners resolved that they were not again entitled to open the crown- room, either to gratify their own curiosity, or that of the public, until they have made a report to the Prince Regent. — Bath Chronicle, I2th Feb. 1818. *"The covenant here si>oken of wsls the confession of Faith ^ '* and solemn league and coventmty drawn up in 1580 — ^1, and " subscribed by King James, and his Royal Household, March " the second in that year ; and by the whole Scots nation in the " year 1590, with a general hand, for maintenance of true religion, " and the King's person. This covenant (very different from " that sworn to by the Scots in February, 1637 — 8) included " nothing of a rebellious nature in it; and therefore might be " sworn to by the Marquiss without any breach of his allegiance. *' Indeed, the Marquiss of Hamilton had been authorized, by '* Charles himself, to subscribe this confession of faith (as it was " called) of 1580, when he M^as sent into Scotland in 1638."-—; Rushworlkj vol. i. part 2. p. 767. [ 195 ] The churchmen of England have not fur- nishte ^26jOOO, wboundertoke greater somes. That the D.^ of Ireland blowes the coales, and advisethe the way that is taken. That the busines passethe throughe two or three men's hands. That the Lords who are come to attende the Kinge have no respect shewed them, nor is their advise demanded. That the Lords refuse to parte with their horses and men. That my Lord of Northampton^ in the name of divers Lords, and in their presence, tould the Kinge, that they were come to Yorke, accordinge to the commande of his Mty's letters, and desired to . The declaration made by the Lordes upon oathe had these effects : King's deck- That the King expected only civill obedience the Petition of fr°^ his Scotclie subjects. That the King the Loids. ex pected the assistance of the Lords in defence only of England, and not for the invasion of Scotland, or any otiier countrye. To the hazard of life, *^ uttermost," and ^'fortunes," left out. 'Tis believed it will not bee offered to the TheEarleof amiV. Eal'^of'^' On Sonday the 21st of April, 1639, the Norriiarapcon,King scDt for the Lords that were at Yorke, Lord Wile? '^^ wayte upon him. And, before his Lords of LordPauiet, the Coimsell, gave them thanks for their tald EaT f^^^^^'"^"^^ attendanceon his person, butthat they NeA-port. might have expressed their duty at less charge. * The Deputy of Ireland, Lord StraJS'ord. o 2 t 196 J Put them in minde of the disobedience of the Scots. Offered the Lords an oathe, which the Lords of the Councell tooke, and all the other Lords, but the Lord Sey and the Lord Brooke, who, for refusinge, were committed, my Lord Sey to the Lord Maiors, and the Lord Brooke to the Recorder's. ■Whether the King was lawfull King of Scotland ? Havin ffC anSWCrcd Yes.— -Whether the Ouarrell was just? They . ,i knew not.-Whether they held intelligence ^OmC questions, they with the Covenanters, or receired any letters ? were SCnt homC froUl Some without designe. Yorke, and confined to their houses. Durham, Sir Jamcs Kermichel carryed away the The^eV the King's proclamation of grace, inclosed in Kinge re- my Lord of Essex's answer to the Cove- moved from „„„4.^..„ T> . nanters, Durham to Newcastle, Kings are bounde to mayntaine religion; and religion, Kings. King James tould King Charles on his death-bed, that he was bound to mayntaine the churche for God's sake, and even for his owne sake too; for when the church declyned, his power would declyne. The Lord Trequar told the Kinge, that, if his Majesty had a will to performe what he had promiste to the Covenanters, the best way was to acte it cheerfully, and with hand- someness to his people ; but if the King thought to outwitt them, he would bee deceived. King James sayde, that he who hath an ill tongue, had neede of good handes, AtNewcas- King Charles sayd, that his Deputy of Mav^e^Q. li'^^^^i^ had given him notice that the Scots [ 197 ] of Ireland, by petition, had desired the De- puty to give them, by oathe, or otherwise, a way to express their fidelity to the Kinge, and detestation to the Covenanters. King sayd The King sayd at the same tyme, that, htd^wol'n-^^s^y^^^'^ge ^y -t^o^d of Argile's discourse, Bcieoces, as he cal'd the Earles of Roxboroughe and f •'^h^c^d^f^'^^ Morton to bee witnesses, and puttinge myLordCob-the same questions to them, which his Ma- bam. jestye had formerly done to the Lord Argile they assured the Kinge of their lives and fortunes, in case that were made good : the lyke did the Lord Argile; but the Lord Hamilton, by the King's commande, dis- solving the assembly in the morninge, my Lord Argile went into the assembly in the afternoone. My Lord Hamilton's mother walkes Eden- boroughe streets with a case of pistols, and souldiers at her heeles, saying she goes to beate her son. My Lord Hume's servants were offered aa abatement of rent, if they would goe alonge with them ; but some desired a renewing of their estates, which caused my Lord Hume to disarme them. 8rh May, A third son of my Lord of Huntley's came ^ ^^' this day to the Kinge by sea, and offers 3000 men, for the Kinge's service in the Northe, governed by Kilderoy, a rebell and outlawed person, and so are his men. He demaades raony and armes. Yesterday Seton came to the Kin^e, from this Lord, disguised as a fiddler. I 198 ] Two dayes before, a messenger was taken with letters for the Cardinal de Richlieu, by Sir Thomas Gleman, Texte: The K. hath commanded the Bishop of be'subjcic to -Durham to printe his sermon. A Lord tel- the higher line the K. that his sermon was not excellent, powers, ice. though he was a learned man, the K. replyed, that the Puritans of England had a great opi- nion of him, and that it might do some good among them. Scotche pro. Always to defende, is, not defende. ^''^'' On Saturday the 11th, the Lord of Rox- burghe tould the K., at Newcastle, that his son, the Lord Carr, was turned Covenanter ; in the afternoone, the K. committed him to his chamber. On Monday the 13th, Lyon Kingof Armes for Scotland, brought the K. newes, that Sir James Kermichel was stayed by the Cove- nanters; and that he did not make procla- mation, because the Covenanters threatened to hange him. He was committed at the tyme. Scotche pro- ] am as near vou as your soule to the '^^'^ ' grounde ; meaninge, the sole of your shoe. The Kinge tould me '' that it was strange '^ the covenanters reported that they could *' not bee heard, when they never soughte him " but as one Sovereigne seekes another. " That the covenanters had deposed a ^' minister for preachings on the Fifthe Com- ** mandrnent; that it was unlawful for sub- *' jects to take amies against their Kinge. ** That the reason of settinge up rulinge *' elders was to curbe the ministers," [ 199 ] May 16,1639. Sir James Hamilton brought a letter to the Kinge from my Lord Hamilton, written by the Lord Rothes to the said Marquis ; where the Lord Wrothes chargeth him to be the instrument of raischiefe happened to that kingdom ; calHnge him traytor divers tymes in it, and offers to prove it, EariofRut- The same day, the voluntary Lords, being Northampton,^^^*^^*^ the King, refused to make a troope of E. of Devon- their men. The K. being so gratious as to shire, E. of i^^y^ them to their owne way, they chose to Berkshire, . n "^ t , LordSaint put their men into several! troopes, and each John, Lord Lorde gave his opinion by turne; named his Lo°rd*Saviiie,*iumber of men, and the troope he would put L-Dunstane, them in. u Pauiet. jv^Q^ ^ j^^j,^ p^j^ ^^y ^^^ j^^^Q ^l^g General's troope, which troubled him. The General's orders were proclaymed the 16th May. Confin'dto My Lord of Roxbourghe examined by the Secretarys of England and Scotland. The K. being persuaded not to venture his person and army against desperate men, answered, that he remembered what Cava- liero Swyfte had say'd^ being to fight with a man that had nothinge, '^ that he would not " venture a thousand pounds a yeare to no- « thing.'* May,Satur- The Kinge and army encamped at Gost- daythezi. ^j^^^^^ On Sonday I heard a sermon at the Holy Island with my Lord Brereton ; and May 27, On Monday, the Kinge and armye removed and laye down by the River Twyde, in sight of Scotland. the Maior's houfei [ 200 ] May ag. May 31. Two things learnt. Monday night, 3d June. On Wednesday night the Kinge laye in the field. My Lord General! went lo Dunse in Scot-? land, and brought away from my Lord Hume's, Witherington's evidences, w^hich gave my Lord Hume cause not to come in, tho' he had promist it under his hand. The Scots that are about the Kinge, seeme to hould their lande, by the tenure of givinge the covenanters intelligence of all that passethe in the Kinge's armye. The covenanters are cominge, but, 'tis in armes. To eate like houndes, and lye like dogs. My Lord of Holland, with 1*2 troopes of horse, 30Q0 foote, and 44 field pieces, was sent to charge the covenanters at Helsall, but apearinge stronge, he did not, and returned. He did outmarche the foote : was dared by the covenanters, who came marchinge towards? him, and made hipa quitt the grounde he was on. My Lord of Holland sent a trumpet tp knowe what they did so neare, contrarye to proclamation ? They answered, because he came so neare them; and that he had first broke the proclamation. He replyed by the trumpet, that lie did advise them to leave the place. 1 iiey answered, that it would bee best for him to doe so , and if ho did not remove, they would make him remove. The Duke of Lennox put the Kinge in mind of their modesty, that might have charged the reare of my L. of Holland's hor^e, and would not. The Kinge sayd, " it w^§ true." [ 201 1 On Monday night, the 3d June, 1639, the ^ Kinge dreamt, that Mr. Porter had brought Lesley to him to kiss his handes. The K. hath Jn the marche to Dunse, uiy Lord New- ordered it to ^j i^gjjj J- jjjjQ ^[-^Q j-eaj,^ 5^ ^hg Gene- my Lord of ? o r ^ Newcastle, rail of the Horse, told the Generall it was by precedent jj^g Prince's troope : but taking no notice of phin's troope this, he oi'dcrcd liim to marche in the reare; inFrance, to which he obeyed, but puU'd oiF the colours, Disputes 'twixt the Governor of Barwick and the Generall ; 'twixt the Generall and Generall of the Horse. To reduce the garrison to 1000. To give the souldiers no paye for extra- ordinary service. On Wednesday the 5th June^ Lesley apeared with his army near Duns. On Thursday, the Earle of Domfarlinge brought a petition from the covenanters to the Kinge, and kiste in his hande in comminge and goinge. The Knight Marshall was sent with him to the covenanters about seaven of the clock at ijight, To require them that the proclamation bee read : To remove the campe out of the Verge. The King was in counsell three hours before he resolved on this course. On Friday the Knight- Marshall returned to the Kinge, made a fair report of ther obe- dience to the Kinge's demands; that the pro- clamation was read ; and reade before Lesley, some few Lords, and a hundred parsons* L 202 ] They petitioned anew upon the Knight- Marshall's motion ; whereupon the King granted leave for their cominge on Monday, by eight of the clocke in the morning, to my Lord Generall's tent, with six persons only. This was signified for the K.'s pleasure, under Secretary Cooke's hande; but they desired it under the Kinge's, by my Lord Donfarlyn, and it was granted. On Tuesday the 1 1th June, they mett at my Lord Generall's tent, and the King's Counsell received them. They were no soner sett, but the K. went in amongst them, and debated the points in question, in most wise, just, and gratious maner. On Thursday they mett in the morninge, when the Kinge was present, and presented their demands in writinge. On Saturday the 15th, the K. gave them answer, which they accepted, and kiste the King's handes. The Earle of Wroth es, the Lord Lodoun, the Earle Donfarlyn, Sir William Duglas, sherifTe of Divedale, Mr. Henderson, Mr. Johnson Clarke, register to the Assembly ; these two last came in Thursday and Saterday. My Lord Wrothes tould the Kinge, that he would iinde three leaves in the booke Bel- canio, published in his name, wherein ther was not three lines of truth together. Offered to prove it; but was not caFd. To my Lord Wrothes desiringe the K. to declare ther should bee no bushops : *' You ** would not have me innovate: and why should [ 203 ] <■' I determine that which is in question ? *' Your lawes may exclude them, but I will « not. "That suspicion was no just cause for *' subjects of takinge armes. " That no acte was committed, .but to satisfy ther desires, in taking away the ser j vice, booke, 8cc. *' That he was deceived in the characters of the men.'^ At Lesley's dinner, the priest that sayd grace had a carabyn on one syde, and a svvorde on the 'other; and being asked " why he was " so armed?" answered, ^^ to learne the trade ** of a souldier." " That he would fighte or " preache with the bushops, but not drinke " or sweare." ^' That it was the Assembly of ''Christ; and that Christ was above the *' Kinge, and that therefore the Kinge had " no power over it." The preachers enforce it "as Christ's cause; that they fight for *^ their salvation ; that as many as dye in the " cause, dye martyrs ; that the Kinge hath " power to indicte an assembly, but not to " dissolve it ; that the Kinge hath no nega- *^ tive voyce in it.'' 7'he grace after dinner was halfe an bower long. One woman in Edinbroughe gave five hun- dred pounds Englishe to the minister for the busines. The women began the noyse against the bushops, and pursued it. The Covenanters paid 10,000 mensixe pence the day apeace, being prest men. Others had [ 20-1 ] two-pence and two loaves the day. No Cap* tayne tooke paye. All other men did beare ther owne charges. Not a man of ther army dead in six weekes, to the 19th June, the tyme they had been together. All thinges were done by comon consent and purse. Motto in ther colours : The Covenant. lor Rehgion. The Crowne. ■The Countrye. The Lady Marques had three company s. In her flag was a woman dishevelled, with an anchor in her hande. Ne deseras, Domine, might have been the wordes. On Tuesday the ]8th June the peace was concluded; the articles, on the Kinge's part, signed by Secretary Cooke and Secretary Ster? linge ; on the Covenanters, by E. Wrothes, E. Dunfermlin ; and on Thursday the £0, the Covenanters discharged ther army ; the 21, dehvered Edinborough Castle to my Lord Hamilton, who put Generall Ryven into it. Other things performed. No. 10. A Grant of Wardship,* Charles Rex. — Whereas our Wardship of George Bennett, esq; is committed to the custody of our trusty * *"' Before the 32d year of King Henry VIII. wardships were *' usually granted as Court favours to those wto made suit for, " and had interest enough to obtain them.^' — Ritson, " During " the existence of the feudal tenures, on he death of any of the " King's tenants, an inquest of office, called TnquUitiopost mortem, [ 205 ] and well-beloved servant. Sir Henry Herbert, knight, at £Q00 per annum, under the seales of our Court of Wardes, and our great seale of England, aad that the greatest part of our said Warde's estate, as wee are cre- dibly informed, lyinge near our garisoa of Beau voir, inay, by industry, yield us our yearlye rents with the arrears, and our Committee, the rest of the proffits for the use of the Warde. You are therefore required by us to ayde and assist Sir Henry Herbert, knight, his assignee or assignees, ■with such numbers of horse, as may enable him, his assignee or assignees, to collect and gather such monies out of our said Warde's estate, as are due to us, and to our Committee, for our Warde's use,^ and from tyme to tyme shall growe due to us and to our Comuiittee as aforesayd • wherein you shall doe us a very accepta- ble service. Given at our Court at Hereford, the sixthe day of September, in the one and twentieth yeare of our reigne, 1645. By his Majesti's command, EDWARD WALKER. To our trusty and weU-beloved Sir Gervase Lucas, knight and baronet, Governor of our Castle of Belvoir and to all officers under his command. *' was held,' to inquire of what lands he died seized, who was his "heir, of what age he was, &c.; and in those cases, where the " heir was a minor, he beca-me a ward of the crown ; the land " was seized by its .officers, and continued in its possession, or ** that of the person to whom the crown granted it, till the heir *• came of age, and sued out his livery, or ousterlemaine, that is, " the delivery of the land out of his guardian's hands. To regu- " late these enquiries, wliich were greatly abused, many persons " being obliged to sue out livery from the crown, who were by no " means tenants thereunto, the Court of Wards and Liveries " was instituted by stat.32, Hen. VIII. c. 46:'— -Black, Com. ii, 61, iii. 258.— Ma^we.— 'The Court of Wards was abolished in the reign of Charles II. [ 206 ] No. 11. The Protestation or Oaths administered by Prince RuperL I, A. B. beinge hereunto required, doe willingly and in the presence of Almighty God^ solemnly vow and protest as folio weth. J. That I believe noe power of Pope or Parliament can depose our Soveraigne Lord and Master Charles, or absolve me from my naturall allegeance and obedience unto his royall person and successors, ' 2. That the two houses of Parliament, without the King's consente, have no authority to make lawes, or to binde or oblige the subjects by theire ordinances. 3. Wherefore I believe that the Earles of Essex and Manchester, Sir Thomas Feirfax, Sir William Waller, CoUonall Massy, together with such as already have or hereafter shall take up armes, by authority and com- mission of the Members of Parliament att Westminster pretendinge to fight for Realme and Parliament^ doe hereby become actuall rebells ; and all such oughte, with all theire adherents and partakers, to be perse- cuted and brought to condigne punishment. 4. That myself will never beare armes in theire quarrell; but, if I shall bee thereunto called, will assist my Soveraigne by his armies in the defence of his royall person, crown, and dignity, against all contrary- forces unto the uttermost of my life and fortunes. 5. That I will not discover the secrets of his Ma- jesty's armies unto the rebells, nor hold any corres- pondence or intelligence with them, and all designes of theires against our Sovereignes armies, or for the sur- prisinge or deliveringe up the cittys of Worcester or Hereford, or of any other of his Majesty's fortes, I [ 207 1 sball truely discover to whom it shall concerne, as soone as it comes to my knowledge. 6. That his JMajestie's taking up armes for the causes soe oft by him declared in print, is wise and necessary, 7. That I will endeavour to put down all popular tumults, risings, rendevous, meetings, confederacys, and associations of the people, i n any of the townes, hundreds, or countyes, which are not warranted to assemble by his Majestie's express comission, or by power derived from him, by virtue of his commissions, and in the sense he means itt. 8. I doe from my harte deteste that seditious and trayterous late-invented nationall covenant; and I protest never to take itt. All these particular articles I vow and protest sin- cerely to observe, without equivocation or mental re^ servation. So helpe me God ! This is a true copy of the protestation taken at Hereford by Prince Rupert's commande, in 1645, whilst I was goveinour of Hereford; and the sayd protes- tation was taken by John Boraston, parson of Ribbes- ford, att a Councell of Warre in Hereford, in my pre- sence. Dec, t5th, 1646. B. SCUDAMORE, Copy of another Paper. On Sonday the 18th Septemb. 1642, the Parlament forces, commanded by Collonell Tynes, came to the gates of the citty of Worcester, about eight of the clocke in the morninge, and made an assault upon the gate that leeds for London, when they had many men slaine by the souldiers in the citty, commanded by Sir Tho. Litleton and Sir John Byron ; and after some two bowers fighte, retyred towards Auster. t ^08 ] On Thursday, the Kinge sent into Woster 20 tfopeg of dragoneers; and on Friday, the Prince Robert, general! of the horse, went from Bewdley, wher he laye on Thursday night, and enter'd Woster about twelve of the clock. The townsmen of Bewdley were disarmed, and fyned, which was payd, and came to — , for their ill behaviour in the execution of the duties of militia* No. 12. Articles exhibited against John BoRAsfoN, ctarike, ty divers of the Parishioners af Rihseford. That the said John Boraston lived in the late King's quarters from the yeare 1642 untill 1646, and enjoyed the profRts of his rectory all the time that the said county was under the powers of the late Kinge, when all well-affected ministers to the Parlament quitted their meanes and residence in the said county. Thatthesaid Boraston went voluntarily fromhislivinge in Wostersheir, to the late King*s garrisons at Oxford, Worcester, and Hartlebery, and into his quarters before Giocester, and was very conversant with the late King's Commissioners for Worcestersheir. That the said Boraston did officiate second servise at the alter, so called j in the chapell of Bewdley, with his surplus and hood, in June l644, or thereabouts, notwith- standinge an ordinance of Parliament to the contrary. That the said Boraston enjoyed two spirituall livinges inlfi47, contrary to an Acte of Parlament, and received the proffits of both the said livinges, the one beinge in Wosterbheir, the other in Shropsheir. [ 209 ] That the said Boraston gave warninge to his parish- oners of Ribsford, in the church of Ribsford, to observe the 25th day of December, in l648, comonly called Christmas Day; and that the said Boraston would give them a sermon on the said day. And havinge assem- bled some of the parishoners, preached unto them on the said day, in the said churche, and exhorted them to the observance thereof, notwithstandinge an ordi- nance of Parlament to the contrary. That the said Boraston hath not only raysed the duties payd by the parishioners to his predecessors, incumbents, butexactesnewdutis upon his parishioners. That the &aid Boraston hath left his parishioners many times without a sermon on the Lord's day, and preacheth only in the morninge on the Lord's day, when hee, the said Boraston, doth preach, though the neighbourding doe preach constantly twise every Lord's day. That the said Boraston frequents taverns and ale bowses, and countenancethe an unlicensed alehowse in Ribsford, by his frequent being there, which occasioneth great disorders all the weeke, but especially on the Lord's day. That the saide Boraston lives from the parsonidge, and hath done so for all the time of his being rector there, whereby the soules of his parishioners are neg- lected in sickness and in health, and the pore unreleived. No. 13. Aditionall Articles exhibited against John Boraston, cleike, by diverse of the Parishoners of Ribsford in. Wostershire. That the sayd Boraston d!-d voluntarily lende several! sumes of money to the King's Commissioners at Woster against the Parliament. o r 210 ] That the said Boraston went voluntarily from his liveinge in Wostershire, to the King's Courte in GIos- tershire, and to the King's army lyeinge before Glos- ter; ahd held intelligence with the Lord Viscount Falkland, then Secretary to liis Maiest3^ That the said Boraston continued in Wostershire whilst it was under the King's comand, and injoyed the profitts of his liveinge, when all well affected ministers to the Parliament left theyr liveings, and they r profitts. That the sayd Boraston hath not administered the Sacrament io the parish church of Ribsford, or in the chappell of Bewdley, for the five yeares last past, or thereabouts. That the said Boraston, notwithstandinge, doth receave Easter duties and offerings joe called from the said parishoners, and threatenes others of the said pa- ri shoners for refusing to pay. That the said Boraston is of a very proud and con- tentious spiritt, and doth lord it over his parishoners^ callinge honest men knaves, and honest women witches^» THOMAS DAWSON. A private Communication to Lord H. Herbert. A Relation of what passed betweene the Lord Sidney and Sir Rowland Gwynne, before the Privy Councill, on Thursday ApriUlth, 1692. — The Queen present. Sir Rowland Gwynne being called in, the Lord President sayd, Sir Rowland Gwynne, tlie Queen expects you will now give her Maiesty a further accompt of what you sayd to her Maiesty concerning the sale pf offices in [ 211 } Ireland, and my Lord Sidney's receiving bribes for them. If it be true, it is a great dishonour to her Maiestie's government, and to that Lord ; but if it be not soe, it is fit the matter should be cleared. SirR. Gwjnne. My Lords, what I sayd to her Maiesty was in conscience of my oath, which I tooke when their Maiestyes honoured me with being their servant. I have done nothing but my duty. 1 intended their Maiestyes service, without designing the hurt of any body. Then applying himself to the Queene, he sayd, I have as great deference for your Maiesty as any subject ever had for any Prince ; but I hope your Maiesty did not apprehend what I sayd to your Maiesty soe as to think I did intend to become an accuser of my Lord Sidney. If I had the misfortune to offend your Majesty in what I sayd, I am infinitely sorry for itt^ and knowing the integrity of my heart, shall yet hope to satisfie your Maiesty, that in this affaire 1 have most sincerely sought your Maiestyes service, and nothing else. Then speaking to the Lords : But, my Lords, I have noe complaint to make to your Lordshipps against my Lord Sidney; nor did I ever intend to make any to your Lordshipps. If I had any complaint to make, your Lordshipps know that my Lord Sidney is a Peer of England, and, a Parlia- ment sitting, is not obliged to answeare here or in any other place but Parliament; soe that i think nobody can reasonably expect 1 should make a complaint, if 1 had any, where it carmot be indulged. Upon this there was silence for neare a quarter of an houre, and at last the Lord Sidney sayd, Sir Rowland Gwynne, when you were at my house, and I repeated to you what the Queen had told me you [ 156 1 sayd to her Maiesty, and desired yoii would produce the author of this report before the Councill, or I must charge you with itt, I thought you intended to bring witnesses against me. Sir R. G. — I did not tell your Lordshipp 1 would, that I know of. Lord Sidney, — I cannot say you did in words, but I understood you soe. My Lords, I desire Mr. Poultnej may be called in, to tell you all what passed betweene me and Sir R. Gwynne, Sir R, G. — My Lords, if there is any accusation against me in due forme of law, to which I am bound to answeare, I doubt not to cleare myselfe; but if there be none, then I know not to what purpose this witness should be called in against me. If your Lordshipps think such an examination legall, I must submitt to it for the present. Lord President. He is not to be called in against you, but to satisfye her Maiesty. Upon this Mr. Poultney was called in. Lord President. — Now he is come in, I know not to what purpose, nor what to say to him. Lord Rochester. — I suppose he is called in to con- firme what passed betweene my Lord Sidney and Sir R. Gwynne. Mr. Poultney. — I was sent for by my Lord Sidney on Wensday morning, the 23d of March last, to testifye >vhat should passe betweene my Lord and Sir R. Gwynne; m}^ Lord having sent to Sir R. G. to desire him to come and speake with him. 1 was there before Sir R. G. came, and followed him into my Lord's roome, and perfectly remember all was sayd, being prepared to charge my memory with itt. My Lord sayd, Sir Rowland Gwynne, the Queen hath told me that you have accquainted her Maiesty it is publicly [ 2J^ 1 5ayd, that all places are sould in Trelanrl; and when she bid you speake to me of itt, vou sayd I was the raost improper person to be applied to in this case, for if the places were sold, who but 1 could receive the money for them. 1 must justifie myself herein before the councill, and I desire you will produce 3^our authority for this report bsfore the councill, or 1 must charge you with itt. A\X which Sir R. Gwynne seem'd surpriz'd, but said little to itt. Sir R. G. — My Lord President, 1 desire your Lord- ship will please to ask this gentleman, whether I sayd to him, or to my Lord Sydney, that my Lord Sidney had sold places, or received bribes. Lord Sidney and Poultney. — Noe, you did not say soe. Sir R. G. — I desire you will please to ask this gen- tleman, if I owned to my Lord Sidney the words he repeated to me. Mr. Poultney. — Noe, you did not acknowledge thein to be spoke by you, but I thought you did tacitely owne them. Sir R. Gwynne. — It is very strange, that if a man says nothing, he shall be said tacitely to owne whatever is talked to him. Lord Sidney. — Sir Rowland Gwynne, Sir Henrv Vane and M. Murrey have told me, that you saide to them I had solde a place for seven hundred pounds. Sir R. G. — My Lords, I know them both, and belieye them honest gentlemen. I doe not remember I told them soe, and desire they may be called in. But I suppose this may be meant of 7001. 1 spoke to the Queen about, which was given to a custom-house officer. Lord President. — Pray, Sir Rowland Gwynne, tell us if you have any thing that you can accuse my Lord Sidney of. [ ^M ]. Sir R G. — My Lords, I have nothing that I shall accuse my Lord Sidney of before your Lordshipps. Then Sir R. G. withdrew, and about an houre after was called in. Lord President. — Sir Rowland Gwynne, some of the Councill understand, that you accused my Lord Sidney of receiving ;^700 for an office in the Custom-house; but I think itt a hardship, that any gentleman's wordg should be ujdged till he explaines them. Sir R. G. — My Lords, 1 am sorry my words should be soe mistaken, for I meant nothing of that nature, as I will imediately satisfye your Lordshipps. When her Maiesty was pleased to honour me with the audience whence the businesse had its sole rise, I came to acquaint her Maiesty that I had information brought me of their Maiestyes being cheated of a French ship of great value; that the person who came to me undertook to prove into what Laiids the guods were delivered, and did not doubt but to make the whole matter soe clearly appeare, that their Maiesiyes might recover their value by the end of next tearme; that the said ship had been seised at Scilly for their Maies- tyes, but was released by a Custom-house officer there, for a bribe of 700l. which he could prove. Lord Newport. — Sir Rowland Gwynne, before you goe, pray tell us if you can say any thing of my Lord Sidney's taking money for any places in England, Scot- land, or Ireland. Sir R. G. — I have nothing that I think fitt to say further to your Lordshipps. Then Sir R. Gwynne withdrew. FINIS, printed by Richaril CruttwcU, St. James's-btieet, Bath. Lately published, in 1 vol. 8vo. 10s. 6d. boards, Original ^tetters, FROM BicJiard Baxter, Mattheio Prior, Lord Bolinghroke, Alexander Pope, Dr. CJityne, Dr. Hartley, Dr. Satnu»l Johnson, Mrs, Montague, Rev, William Gilpin, Reu. John Newton, Georgf. Lord Lyttleton, Rev. Dr. fJlaudius Buchanan, ^'c. ^'c. WITH BIOGRAPHICAL ILLUSTRATIONS'. EDITED BY REBECCA WARNER, Of Beech Cottage, near Bath. NOW IN THE PRESS, /fnd will be published in March-, epistolary Curiosities ; SERIES THE SECOND ; CONSISTING OF UNPUBLISHED LETfERS, Of tlie beginning of the Eighteenth Ccnturj, Illustrative of the BERBER T Family: The latter :find of King William's, and the early Fart of Queen Anne's Reign; FROM .Lord Herbert ; King William; the Duke of Shrewihiry ; the Dulie of Newcastle; Qmen Anne; Lord Godolphin; Lord, Somers; Lady Inchiquin ; the Duke of Marlborough ; Joseph Addison; Dr. Robinson; William Gregg; Sfc, ^'c. With NOTES. 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