CIHM Microfiche Series (i\1onographs) ICMH Collection de microfiches (monograph ies) m Canadian Instituta for Hiatorlcal Microraproduction* / Inttitut Canadian da microraproduction* hiatoriquaa 1995 1 Tachniul •nd Biblioarant modifiar una imaga raproduita. ou qui pauaant axigar una modification dant la mithoda nornula da lilmaga tont indiquii ci-datiouf. 0Colourad cowri/ Couaartura da eeulaur Coaan damagad/ Couaartura andomnugia D □ Coaarf rasterad and/or laminalad/ Couaartura raitturia at/ou palliculia D D Ceaar titia miuing/ La litra da couaartura manqua Colourad maps/ Carta! gtographiquai an coulaur I — 71 Colourad ink (i.a. othar than blua or black)/ I y\ Encra da coulaur li.a. autra qua Waua ou noiral □ Colourad platai and/or illuitrationi/ I I Planchai at/ou illuitrationi an coulaur Bound with othar malarial/ RaM aaac d'auuai documann n 1—71 Tight binding may cauM ihadowi or diitortion I y I along inuriol margin/ La nliura larria paut cauiar da I'ombra ou da la diitonion la long da la marga intiriaura □ Blank laaaat addad during raitoration may appaar within tha taxt Whanaaar poaiiMa. Ihaia Iwaa baan omlttad from filming/ II ta paut qua caruinai pagai blanchu aioutin Ion (Tuna raitaucation apparainant dam la taxia, maii, lonqua cala ttait poaiiMa. ca« pagaa n'ent □ Colourad pagai/ Pagai da coulaur □ Pagai damagad/ Pagai andommagtat □ Pagai raitorad and/or laminatad/ Pagai raitauitoa at/ou pailiauMai QPagat diicolourad. itainad of fexad/ Pagai dtcoloriw, tachatiai ou piquiaa □ Pagai datachad/ Pagai dMachiM HShowthreugh/ Tramparanaa r~7| Quality of print aai i_iJoualitiin*galadal aaiiai/ 'imprauion □ Continuoui pagination/ Pagination continue □ Includai indaxlat)/ Comprand un (dail indax TitIa on haadar takan (lom:/ U titia da I'an-lMa pnaiant: □ Tidapagaofiaiua/ Paga da titia da la liaraiion □ Caption of iuua/ Titia da dtpart da li liaiaiaan □ Maithaad/ Giniriqua (piriodiquail da la linaiton 13 Additional aommanti:/ Commantairat lupptimantairai: Pagai wholly or partially obKund by amt. ilipi. tiaaua^ att, haaa baan caf Umad to aniura tha ban pouibla Imaga. Tbi. ium it fMniad at tha raduction ratio chackad balow/ Ca document att film* au ttux da i*duction indiqui ci-danoui lOX MX MX Z2X XX XX Z3 tx c« 7 w Tha copy filmad har* hu bsan raproducad thanki to tha a*n*'oaity of: National Library of Canada L'axamplaira filmi fut raproduii grlca i I* gAniroait* da: Bibllotheque nationale du Canada Tha imagas appaaring hara ara tha baat quality poatlbia conaidaring tha condition and lagibility of tha original copy and in kaaping with tha filming contract apacificationa. Original copias in printad papar covari ara filmad baginning with tha front covaf and anding on tha iaat paga with a printad or iiluatratad impraa- aion, or tha back covar whan appropriata. All othar original copioa ara filmad baginning on tha firai paga with a printad or iiluatratad impraa- aion, and anding on tha Iaat paga with a printad or iiluatratad impraaaion. Tha iaat racordad frama on aach microflcha ihail contain tha aymboi -^ (maaning "CON- TINUED"), or tha symbol ▼ (maaning "END"). whichavar applias. Mapa, piataa. charta, ate. may ba filmad at diffarant raduction ratios. Thosa too larga to ba antiraly includad in ona axposura ara filmad baginning in tha uppar laft hand cornar. iaft to right and top to bottom, as many framas as raquirad. Tha following diagrams illuairata tha mathod: Las imagas suivantas ont tti raproduitas avac la plus grand soin. compta tanu da la condition at da la nattatt da l'axamplaira film*, at an eonformlt* avac las conditions du contrat da fllmaga. Laa axamplairaa originaux dont la couvartura an papiar ast imprimta sont filmia an commanpant par la pramiar plat at an tarminant soit par la darnitra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'Imprassion ou d'iilustration. soit par la sacond plat, salon la caa. Tous laa autras axamplairas originaux sont film4a an commancant par la pramitra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'impraasion ou d'iilustration at an tarminant par la darnitra paga qui comporta una talla amprainta. Un das symboiaa auivanta tpparaitra sur la darniira imaga da chaqua microflcha. salon la cas: la symbols ^» signifia "A SUIVRE". la symbols V signifia "FIN". Laa cartas, planchaa, tablaaux. ate. pauvant etra filmta t daa taux da rMuction diffirants. Lorsqua la documant ast trop grand pour atrs raproduit an un saul cllch*. il ast filmi i partir da I'angla suptriaur gaucha. da gaueha i droita. at da haut an bas. an pranant la nombra d'imagaa nteassaira. Las diagrammas suivants illuatrant la mithoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MICBOCOW RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 3) A APPLIED llvMGE In ^SV 1653 East Main Street B*.— Rochester, New York 14609 USA "■^ (716) A82 - 0300 - Phone ^S C" 6) 2H6 - E989 - Fa. t~^L^^ ST.- ■•// '^-^•"'•-VA ■' / Dorothy Osborne I ft, ^ Iv il^ C-t-*-* **1 ^ THE Love Letters of DOROTHY OSBORNE to Sir William Temple 1652-54 Edited by Edward Abbott Parry The Publishers' Syndicate Limited 1901 mi 900076 TO Mr DAVQHTEB HELEN TBIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED EXEMPLI QSATIA Editorial Note » S«i*IJ."? '^^ """^ ^ *'»« Athenamm, June », 1888 that rumours were afloat doubting the authenticity of these letters, and that theleru. mours would sink to rest if the histoiy of the onginals were published, I hasten to adopt my sToTV.™^^'*'""' """^ «^^« »» "''t"''^ of their Bev. Bobert Longe at Coddenham Vicarage, Suf- folk, where they have been for the lastSS years^ At Sir William Temple's death in ms d!ni?J "° Sv^' "^««''«'>dants than two grand! da^htere-Ehzabeth and Dorothy. EliSbe^ med without issue in 1772; Dorothy married Nicholas a«H>n, Esq. of Shrnbland Hall^Se ^h of Coddenham. Dorothy left a so^ L Rev. Nicholas Ba«on, who was vicar of Codden V^™« n,I^«^ *''•' ^^"''"' **> Coddenham I^r^J^' ^^- ^'*'^«''« B"""^" dying with, out wsue, bequ«.thed Coddenham VicaJagf, with lir„^ T Ti P*P*" **'"'^'°' *° the^' John Unge who had married his wife's sister. The Kev. John Longe, who died in 1836, was the Tiii ^tutorial ITott "«* the fears or hopes of ^pt,^ ^ *™^ -t *t MA.rcH«in,o^,'2^8» Abbott Pabby. Contents CBAP. I. U. m. IV. V. VI. VII. IimoDucnoir EAM.VLm,M. Wi»'t«.„d Spring ,853-63 LiM AT ChICKBANDS. 1863 . DiSPOKDMrcY. ChiMtmaa 1653 '"M^r,6^' :""':™- '^-^ - Vismifo. Siinunerl654 Thb End or w. Thibd Voldmi Apmjjdix— Lady Tkmpu . . ' PAoa 1 27 flO SIO 387 336 3«i OHAPTEB I IKTBOD0OTION tot.« . m,bM .meg tkXfa rf7„'JS: raphy wiU be fouW in her oStte«L wT the ^m time publiahed. SomTonS&eS' ^n„.7 ^*^* Honourable Thomas PereeriM Courtenay, a man better known to the Torv^?f tnese letters did Courtenay transfer to an Anrw.tr dtt without arrangement or ^tormot^S' M he candidly coSfesses; but not Tit Wmf gimgs as to how they would be r^S kT." people thirsting to rea/the detaik o^hT^gJ^^ 8 Low Lettert from Dorothy OAomt pity hit awalM«i»»Tk » "'**• l*pe», we may obwarity of u Ap^to ^ "" "*>'^'*J' to write a ahort W^iivs^!^ he took oooarfon borne. And withthJ. ^ ^* Dorothy Og. written, wadyTthJd If ^"°* ¥ tdmiraWy of the Sr to o^i L^"?; "»« °l8« doty which hedoe. w?t2 th« J^**' *^* *° """^to ; »»riiW that UiJm thS ,*^*" Pl««"n". wmem- able to .tudl: TVPi^i wi !fT"?°*'*'*^o'>^ quiet oIoiutoN .inJlPT^ ^" dwtnrbed even the produS SeS? J^„Tii-«-«^"v«' Ca^ibridSJ minds of the 8tudX"*"^!^ ^r^ """^ttled the manuelallthelitUeoLv ?Pu .'°':«<>* »* Em- from Bisho^StortfoS^n^/^"^ ''* ^"^ ^""'ght IiUroduetioH | tl»t .flfty jMn later lie wu lo abrard aa to let up hu own anthority aftvnat that of BeStle^ ^ qa^tion. of Greek iifory and phUoW'^ He Which .till hngerei in the aohool. of CsmMSgl or in the new philowphy of which Lo«i Bawn waa the founder. But to the end of hii life he continued to speak of the former with Jnomt admiration, and of the ktter with eqnaJ& imo! rant contempt. "4««u7 igno- "After residing at Cambridge twoyearfche JZ^ r*'**?' ^^"« • ^^ and^ST'oS upon his travek. He seems toTWe bcjn then » lirely, agreeable youn* man of fashion, not by any means deeply rea^ but versed in aU the sn- perfloial accomplishments of a gentleman, and "^-Pt*We in afi polite •ooieties.'^In ^uSos"! professed himself a Royalist. His op^owT on religious subjects seem to have been sudh as miirht wfc«*^P!f*** ^? *y°'"'^ n^n of quick parts' r^f tfc t^^I^^^ rambb^g education, whVhaa not thought deeply, who had been disputed by the moroM austeritvof the PuritansTind wlw •urrpunded from childhood by the hubbub of^n- flicting sects might easihr lein to feel an imZ- tial contempt for them afl. '^psr- Ja^J^ hij road to France he feU in with the son and daughter of Sir Peter Osborne. Sir Peter held Guernsey for the King, and the youn/pe^ pie were, like their father, warm for the S^ of Wight, the brother amused hiiself with in- •cnbing on the windows his opinion of the ruUnir powers. For this instance of malignancy thf ne« which, even iStK'S*^^ '''•**''''«''■ where a woman wu ^™^!^''' ''^'«<' »« "how on heriel/,«nd wlS^i^"^'?!*'} *«»k ">» crime with her f;u";.tj;';?ein!*^«»«ij' «.t at liberty im^pASoJ^of "T^„V"^rr^' »«•• • deep I>orothy Osborne w£.t„„5" ^** ""'^ twenty, have bien CdLm?- r^dV""" Sheigsaid^ dant proof Xr«hi^^ *5®" remain, abnn- the dJKj^, the yfvSram,?. *??'.« •*"•«' her lez. Tfemola «o^ fc ""^ '^* tendemew of that time, he°CCt t^'T' ^ '*'«' ?»•«« of a novel to the fifth ^i. ^'®** " *^e' expanded When th^ Zirtohin i^^^' ""^^^ theirWK theher«wr^SteheT„T'i.*'}? '»»"•' ^' father of the heroine was co^«*.rf '"?«"*! the »y tor King Charil jv""''}"* » Gwrn- ended, and Sir Peter (^K^*^®" ^^^^ the war at Ohiok.^d3^t^J^.h«™e«tumedtohi.«^ •"^K^ly lew gloom? gh^VfA« l«r" ''ew more advantaieOTiT alH«„^ • "• ^^'"P^e had a Porcthy 0.K WM rt'^J" ^'''^. *»' his wn by a. iany sniton^ wp^ meantime berieged by the fame of P^rtk T^^ '^™T".> ^"^^ on the list wm wT ,^^°® "*o«t distinmiished thecapSy.'Z^erZ^tr''^^"- P^'tiC of Illustrious father, Sfutl!r**^/".™"J'«' hi. Sarw^tz^^^E"^^^^^^ Introduction 5 Hntohiwipn, speaking the tentimenU of the mv* »nd aged, describes him as an 'insolent iCI* and a 'debauched ungodly oavalieTTheS^i^ presslons probably mtin that he was on?th^' among voung and dissipated peopirwouidSS lor a fine gentleman. Dorothv wa. fn»rf^ S^~--" p-^'th'aTt'nigh-? functionaries at Dublin should Jm «tT« „*?? violent dissolution o? tfie Lonir Parii^-^; *u® could not refi-fti 1 *»«Jr .5. ^ ariiament, she iM outline. No cancaturist ever represented Shendan,orprofu8ionT\r™R"'® parsimony to be, allowed ^^fbe SiJ^f "?"§'»• It l£ eulogists of Temple ha^dilrf ^*»«'h the pellauon of philosSphiS ? ^^^ ""'^^ the a{^ Penenced statesmfn h^ J^ "* v*" "^'^ "^d ex- appearanoe in yZth m?„?.*"°^''*^t Mffraoefd '!;§ to a familfwlJ; S r^^^/Pr^-^^k- auffer martyrdom for f^!' ^7 to fight or to Pe«ecated Chu«bTt«^edKinglnd their jngly hurt and irritated bv^"" ^•'"^ ^"^ ««^- and addressed to bi^rt I^^ ^^^ his back. MBous admonitions iffT* -Jr-^ ^^''•Jer and her confidence in CS^.T^ assurances of occasion she waa most w^lr** ""'''"e- On one But he seems to har« S ^ ^?""« that time ^es.on the Continent so,^'?''"''^^*^ "^^^ sometimes in London kTo!,™^^ '" '"Iwd. of the French and 8mn«f f "^^ ^"°«e« masted himself by writ^g^s S.T''^"^ ''''«' »°'"s^ Ployment which ft S *Jil^T'*'«^ « em- forming his style The ,^^ *^^ Purpose of Courfcemiy has preserved nf?r""^° whioVMr. t'ons is by no nCStemnS^ ^"•'"^J «'°"'P«'i- '■■ion » • Temple appears to have knnf «.. lost, but hers have been niSJ^"^ Hw letters are them appear in \lSvott7^^r^ ""^7 of expresses some dou^ whS hl^' ^T^'^Y tlMk him justified in I,.tlff '*'", leaders will ber of thesi epfsUes We S "^ ^?« "^ ""'"- were twice as manv vt^^L^^ *»* there diplomatic corr^Senl 7f t w "'^'^ °' the so weU worth rea^ng » ^^''^ generation is ." dignity of fkor^whioh we ^/ P'"^ " ^^^ ing up the thread of hiiv?- ""aj omit,_tak. «gly lear# more aW th^?*'''' """^ ^omwill- and his mistress In ?he sevlnTI^ 1®^ ^'1«*'° be sure, Louis the Fourte^^^^^^^^ ttiportant peraon than t^LT*? * '""*''' »«" But death aid time eamI,v;t?|Pi^> sweetheart, the great King norX&„^ *^;°^;, ^^^^^^^ neither the iro?ff«o,,« „! ^"*J^ 9* Bedfordshire tj- OsbornfXo^ Pr^SL^/iJ'S ""' ^''- that lay hard by the house w^«« ^ common young wenches used to CA ^iT^ * ^^^ "nany sit in the shade skSne o/tt°? ?"'* ''"'^^ anS ns. louis and Dorotiv ar« ^rl' '5 *°3^thiDg to ton-miU stands onX^l '^tC^: ^^ 8 Lwe letters from Dorothy Oshome the sake of wwX »inii * • *''** /nformation, for remote events we find l^ '^"^J^^hile to study tors whiohW Coim^n "**. ""'"h in the love let- wouldSly pSi'^n^S' «"?'^^««1' that we with tA tiiiJ^S^eSl^^T^ "'^^t^ at random. To nssurefv l^. *® J?'?^"' **''«'' how the yomimd'rLl T "'^f"^ ^ ^'""^^ selves a ivSfed a^d efe^"*^ employed them- theiP minds we7eoultiffl^:t""^°'*'«V^' s^th?T£SS^«^^^ ^sa^i(?t£3?S3S^s protJ^ols, ^oSrcatehTn^^'iL°'i^P**«'>«« ""d about the relations "fG^frnTent^P" °' "«^' Why'^SmY's^S^'^iS' ^^'^^ ^^ ^ °°« of pressesihoMtLVtjT .5^ servants, and ex- will add Shenlmtr^^f ''^ of l^er ^^'^^ -1-s his mals^Th^^alJir^o'^- - Introdtiction g gious, and occasionaUy gliding iX ve^pi" and endearinsr sort ofpreachme vet not7ri!l3 to partake ot .uch divereionsWondon affofSS Sifsrf \""^« at a ridiculous sermon from a nJhf 7?^ "?* *''°"«'^* ^ be one of the Zat iSe t?™ L"^'''"'?^y at Westminster ;wK nnmL^"w ^«»^.f!«q"etry, which was yet Mrfectlv S «!,J^ Ti?, '^'''" anddisinteresterl^S^ Z^\ if !l*"« t«m 'or satire, which yetwl- dom passed the bounds of good natur/ Shi SnT^'^K^ 'u*'"* *"«' stndies^were not tt;oBe of Queen Elizabeth and Ladv Jane Grey Sh^ the verses of Cowley and Lord BroihiU IwS " When at last the constancy of the lovers h«A wnous calamity WeU them. Po<;r ^MisTrew 10 Love letters from, Dorothy OsIotm Osborne fell iU of the smaU-pox and thn„„fc i. escaped with life,lo8tlai CWtv T^/i?-® into a lonrforfiott^n^ff ''*"'l''^'^ ^ '"elt W her beUd&neTtrie^hTr'i' "'''*^ she was able to nnit t;.-r u ■ "^"^ ** ^°on as Priest and all tiiat^L^ "^^l'*'. when the look on her But God ^«1,«'^I^™ .«f right. ! to were from verv Xht ™Hi.f '■''^.toband duction, it would ill jT/^ P°u-'°° "' '"^ »"*«>- correct hLsteenS,t^T* ^™ ^ "^^"^ and petty ina^ur£y™iU i^TV"^ ^^^'^ ^^^ " once for all that f hiil lecessaiy to say, the passage -n^VjT^f^ occMional errors In ChioCnr'^l^f,^«Macaulay mentions that Osbornes,-thoughi^a^{,Srael^^^ Introduction 11 igh she To this f of the jjected. t Mrs. Corne- lO melt relates icon as m the It. r! to ot un- e and efore.' iustice ur to triage ' sup. >f the ht of inion iband msy on of lence Dtro- and as a ^y, rsin that the row 18 in Itself important. To our thinking, too, in the character that he draws of our heroine, Maoaulay hardly appears to be sufficiently awaro of the sympathetic womanly nature of Dorothy, and the dignity of her disposition; so that he u persuaded to speak of her too constantly from the position of a man of the world praisimr with patronizing emphasis the pretty qualitiw of a school-girl. But we must remember, that in forming our estimate of her character, we have an extended series of letters before us ; and from thMe the reader can draw his own conclusions as to the accuracy of Macaulay's description, and the importance of Dorothy's character. It was this passage from Macaulay that led the Editor to Courtenay's Appendix, and it was the literary and human charm of the letters them- selves tha,t suggested the idea of stringing them together into a connected story or skrtch of the love affairs of Dorothy Osborne. This was pub- Iwhed m Apnl 1886 in the M^Ush lUmtZted i^^'^'K*^ happened, by good luck, to faU into the hands of an admirer of Dorothy, who. niadelaithfnl and loving copies of each one^-ac- curate even to the ofl-world speUing. These labours had been loliowed up brmua patient research the fruits of whictf were now to be generously offered to the present Editor on con- dition that he would prepare the letters for the press. The owner of the letters having courte- ously expressed ^ls acquiescence, nothing re- mained but to give to the taak that mtient care tHat It is easy to give to a labour of love. la £ove Letter, from Dorothy Ottome dated, it wL 1?„na pSe^h '"'"•'" *''«"• ""^ of their oontente" to K toj""'"*« ""^Ij"* correct order; aiid & nL ^^.J^^PP^^'^ately letter, one ZilTtt W 1.?"'^'* ''°' ^"^ «a«h to specific months orSCro^i:^"^'***'^""^" fact that New Year's ^Vlitl^'- ^''1 March 35— a fact somflfimL • ** t^w period ians of hiirh remite^HH ' '^'J''™'' byantiquar- of ascert^SiS^ei^datefrH'^**'*''^'^'®""'*^ Ke?- i^rSB ^^^^^^^^ We «ndergCisteftS%*t^* *^r^^*l«« been modernized th« il^ ThespeUinghas mnged in Srant „!h^'' P"nctuatS an! a^ tail. T]»T^™i?f,i'«Jil';«<>"«'i>l.ti«ed Editor has aholy E?^°,*'irT***«- The would have it reZaK> th *« t .f??*°°te, and from Which ci Jffi,^*fe :t*;^l?:*.^i^?, " from which disTL^u'^^g^^ J^t t^^"^ " >t Dorothy's leftere ^/'\7"W "heerfuUy . the endeavour hari.e«nV^t.i^°> t^em- K\h^^=,^ri.e;v^,^j^ Introduction IS WM possible, parallel references to letters, dia. SS °i:.°'«">°'". ""d the Editor can on? ««^^ that his researches, through both MSS Md prrn^ records, have been*so little ^^ll In the case of weU-known men like Al«rnn!; Sydney, Lord Manchester, Edmund WaSS^Tto no attempt ha^ been made to^wrko a^mi weSTnoZ.''3 -^r'"" l^i-g -uSntly well known; but in the caoe of iore obscnra of th!f. if°'"'«' I^eyton,-all the known detaihi rf their history have been oarefuUy coUeoted Yet in spite of patience, toil, and the kindnewof Z^VrJlt '''' Editorls bound toS^M eage that some names remain mere words to him, and but too many allusions are mysSLly ..• J^ ^''''"T °^ *^® '«**«"■ »ito chapters, at flret sight an arbitrary arrangement, r4Uy foUows their natural grouping, fhe lett^rswere written m the years 1653 an(f 1654, and fom a d^S connected story of the love affaira of theToS couple during that time. The most impbS group of letters, both from the numW^ffiJ contained in it and the contents of thelettera 65?»'^^Se"'FHf ^'^""^i-Life at Chick^nd" 1006. ibe Editor regards this grouD as thn very mamland of the epistolary LQago that Tr^T ?fP'°ring Fof it is in this cDr that a clear idea of the domestic social life of these Se TfhT/r''^^'''^^^^' "°°« the lis val' uable m that it does not tally altogether with our preconceived and teo limantfc notS^ Here, too, 'we find what Macaulay longed foi^ 14 £ove letter, fnm Dorothy OAotm the north, setoS rptkS Vp2"* °°* «' we find tiem in the y^Sa f;^^*'^- '^i'!" father, born in 1621 'tt?°~*^C' gwat-gnmi tntroduction I5 ctenghter^-afterwards married Sir Thomaa ?T'o K^"**' ^"'^"'^ «"« the onlv ^, in two parte, and some traoti published in "^*;°i.~S»«'°'>«*'terl»» death. *i.^' u?"" ^®**' ^'"»«lf we had at one time thought to write at some lenirth The n^f .V- Ih^if?'?"^"?**' ^""« C°S for the^Sl' ^i^'^f a ^ °;? '«"""' »" theletteS ff^h! SL tS^ ^'^'*'' Governor of Jersey, m the detailed account left behind by a native of Guernsey, and in the State pawn of the period, IS one of the most interestiSJCuKSes in an epoch of episodes. But though tTieWe^tid nmtenal for some short life of SiFPe^ OsKrS lies at hand, it seems scarcely necessary for Jhe SK is^U'l^dT '' "^^ ^ ' ''^ -^^^^^ rt Btuart he was as sincere and thoronirh as Sir o/ufierSyXtSn."''^'"'*'"'^ °' "^"^ "^P-' King Charley and who's ripe for flSit now » ?n ifl9i ?* ^""t^* "^^^ ^^^ comment. ™^? j/""*" '• "^*e«>§ wduoed and a seducer •Old that he took it to be a high honour to sit on the same bench with Cromwell, who employed mm and contemned him at once. The Earl of Uanby was the Governor of Guernsey, and Sir Feter was his lieutenant until 1643, when the Earl died, and Sir Petor was made full Governor It would be in 1643 that the siege of Castle Uoraet began, the same year in which the rents or the Ohioksands estate were assigned away from their nghtfnl owner to one Mr. Jbhn Black- ■tone, M.P. Sir Peter was in his stronghold on a rook in the sea; he was for the King. The inhabitants of the island, more comfortably sit- TK^'*r" * united party for the Parliaient. Thus they remained for three years; the Kinir writing to Sir Peter to reduce the inhabitants to a state of reason ; the Parliament sendine in- structions to the jurats of Guernsey to seize the person of Sir Peter; and the Earl nf Warwick, prompted, we should suppose, by Sir John Dan^ vers, offering terms to Sir Peter which he indig- nantly rejected. Meanwhile Lady Osborne— J^orothy with her, in aU probability— was doinff Her best to victual the castle from the mainland she hving at St. Malo during the siege. At length, her money all spent, her health broken down, she returned to England, and was lost to sight. Sir Peter himself heard nothing of her 18 Love Istttrt from Dorothy Otborw aad her MM in England, who were doing aU they could for their father among the KIng'a Mends, did not know of her whereabouU. In 1646 he resigned his command. He wa» weaiy and heavy laden with unjnst hardens w1fr*^v°° ''"2 ?y; ^"^ '°' ^•><">» wd with whom he was fighting; he was worn out by the Mege; by the characteristic treachery of the King, who, bemff unable to assist him, could not rerrata from senBing lying promises instead ; and ^ the mahce of his neighbour, George Carteret, Governor of Jersey, who himself made free with the GpernMy supplies, while writing home to the Kinsr that Sir Peter has betrayiS his trust. Betrayed his trust, indeed, when he and his mr- nson are reduced to "one biscuit a day and a little porrage for supper," together with limpeta and herbs in the best mess they can make; nay. more, when they have pnUed up laeir floors for firewood, and are dying of hunger and want in the stone shell of Castle Comet for the love of ^eir King. However, circumstances and Sir Weorge Carteret were too much for him. and. at the request of Prince Charles, he resided his comnjMid to Sir B«ldwin Wake in Ifiy 1646 remaining three yeare after this date at Pt. Malo! where he did what he was able to supply the ^^ft t **^ ^V*- . ^'' ^«1« baronetages, peerages, and the invincible heaps of genealSgicafreccJds ^.X.^^l^''^^'^^ !T^ fewactu^fa^t^S sary to be known of Dorothy's relations, her hu- man surroundings, their lives and actions. And we shall not find ourselves following Dorothy's story with the less interest that we^ have mL^ sln^ *^* *'^"* *^° Osbornes of Chick- Temple, too, claims the consideration at our liands of a few words concerning his near relar taves and their position in the country. As Macanlay tells us, he waa born in 1628, the place of his birth being Blackfriars in London. Ti^Z Ia ^"PP V"^ ^**'^^''' ^'^s Mister of the Rolls and a Privy CounciUor in Ireland ; he was m the confidence of Robert Sidney, Earl of Leicester, the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. Al- foTp^^i^*'''®^' *•»« Earl's son, was weU known T^iPi-t' "^"^ P^'^-^P" *" Dorothy. Sir John Ir^vl^'^'' ^^ ""^ "^ ^^t^"" "fe. "ftised to look visal)Ie to play on the winning side, and thus we find him opposing the Duke of Ormond in Ire- Kisln Iff '.^•^V"?^^""^ imprisonment ai^ ?^s^i, u*''® Parliament. In England, in 1648, when he was member for ChioEester, he concurred with the Presbyterian vote, thereby Introdttction m language of the dly fS XS« k' r'^'? in retirement in London until 16 W ^ ^"^ ^^^ Sr '^ "- ^5; "» b?A„TSS.»i- "Seraphio Doctor, br%ht evangelist " Macaulay^ ^^ "** •^'"''^ ^Of >» by -itr.^ I^T"' «^'««'i.hnn«lred and fifty-three • s^XtirSedTriiSThiE ^rpses Cromwell was medUatiL^an IboS J& TieTot'lH"*.^ % praotical^coronatSS flws^ir. ne wortd ta4 ceased to wopder II 24 Zove LetUrs from Dmrothy Oabome JjlKnnTT^ *^""« ^"^"^ ^ tJ^*'"' quondam }^? trV*^ the democracv was beginning to be a In^ *i— r '^^2 ^ disbelieve^in its own irk nL&p°^'K°.*^ ^ "*&*' *°'- 1*'^ flesh-pots of f„^ ^ Presbyterian monarchy. Cromwell, mdeed, waa at the height of his glory, his hon l^iL^^^ "l^fi ^Aandnow^f^everThel J, IS^ Cromwell that Victor Hugo ha^ por- trayed, the uncrowned King of England tAm ,& under f<^t that sacred^libertyX LS ideaT for which so many had fought and bled He 18 soon to be Lord f rotector. *He is second to none upon earth England isagafnatpeS with herself, and takes her position Is one oT?he gwat Powers of Europe ; dromwell is England's fang. So much for our rulers and poUtics. Now let U8 remember our friends, those whom we love ^^^'^'™\u^*''*^*»'^ they have done for uf Wn^rt*''^'^ ^ ""' *''«'"g^ ^I'ioh we have learned to know them. One of the best beloved and gentlest of these, who by the satire cf heaven was T)om into England in these troublous tinies r„^ ""JI ^^andering by brook and stream, scareeTy annoyed by the uproar and confusion of the fa^ fi^d i.Tr'* -?""-u ^""^ ^^^t he knew of Eng K »n^^'^ 1*^" ''^ ^*« '«** '" P^'-l^aps the gen- tlest and most peaceful volume the world Tias ever read. I speak of Master Izaak W^to„, wh^ ?d"e h3 ^f -^,7^:- '■''^ '^** * """"'^de for the mie hours of all future ages. Other friends we ^7^'J?'°J'"^' *">* ^°^« so intimate or will beloved Mr. TfaJler, whom Dorothy may hive known, Mr. Cowley, Sir Peter Lely,-4opffl Introduction bk Cromwell's fri^d at th^ °."' '™?,'^' ^at ho was already making notS in h«f' " f ^«'^°' *«>. i* elsewhere rbufutKrattLlp™*^ ''l^'^ ^^ begun diary-makini ^Otte« 'P^' ^ """^y^*- the mind of ev^r^o-Tu ."*'"** '^'U come to "people we kr;Vn'aie'?L"tr .!*'-« ''" their time from J^Vh"^ ""^^* description of the mind^s eve to t&7^ T '"""^ ^"^ through Dorothy ffliS>gff;^t'f^^|2i-'^ whifh not actually visuari7n ♦!,„ i.'^'.,^ ^®^ ^ w« can- at least conUce S^lat ?hH^ l\'^ '"^*«" ^^^^ not wholly nnlike^he prSe^rlnH r''' " ^^ realize the significance of T Ji u^ '*.^« '^""^ one of our Erian! th^t' 7.f ^^'^^ *''« ^°«* of which to studv th« ^'iof ^^^^ " °o lamp by gives a brighter and ^^'^*'* '¥« P«"od that S)ntemporafy ette«^ S hT^!^^'"^ "^'^^ t^"*'^ study, and we nrnv^n^i^T? ^® "^commends their before us : « A^a??^^.^? TJ^" *° ^^^^ l«"e™ some path throlfi^h th,f !!°* *° ^?'''® ^'»' himself tory o? the tenteSteranTto iLI P' to faoe upon the nama ™o„ v t*' 'ook face method KpZr^s'^b^ a3 %'* ''^ ^'^^ irregular row of hJ,nZ, I another. Here is an as suns; a^d with a c.,?i„''^' °T *i^ ^^^i'^oas 36 Lone Zettera from Dorothy Osborne figure of the old dead Time itself may perhapi be famUj discernible here." '^ ^ With this, I feel that I may oast off some of the forms and solemnities necessary to an edi- torial introduction, and, assuming a simpler and more prsonal pronoun, ask the reader, who shaU feel the full charm of Dorothy's bright wit and tender womanly sympathy, to remember the thanks due to my fellow-servant, whose patient, single-hearted toil has placed these letters within our reach. And when the reader shall close this volume, let it not be without a feeline of grati- tude to the unknown, whose modesty llone pre- l^^Jf^ /"^"J changmg the titie of feUow-slrv- ant to that of fellow-editor. OHAPTEE n HABLT lETTEES. WINTER AND 8PBIN0 1662-63 dated^fm™ n^^?**"^*^^"^ "J""^ " l°n8 letter, „? iflKo °™v.^^'S'^'"^« 8ome time in the autumn 1653 about the end of which time Dorothy went ^.^t""" ""'l'^^* ^^"'PJ^ ««^n- The engaS^ ™~nf^ mentions must ha^ been one that^ ?nHi ^j,rr ^*"'''°?. "?*"' ^«'' and it was not until the London visit, I fancy, that her friend- ship progressed beyond its ori^nal limite; buTfn b^asTefaht't^^r *'' Do^thy's letters wiS oe as well able to judge as myself T«mnf''JT?°r'"^ ^°°''®' ^^ere Dorothy and Temple had last parted, was in 1646 appinted by the House of Commons for the recipW rf ^e French Ambassador. In 1666 it wr the Kd Arlint^'n^®""™''"^ ^™"«*' a'terwardj i^^d Wi.°- ^^^ grounds stood much in the position of the present Arlington Street and feve^yn speaks of ft as an iU-builThouse but 'cTa ble of being made a pretty villa. ^ Uorothy mentions, among other thinjrs that tL^'^.^'' "drinking the^waters," thoSh she i^.T.^'l ''^ ''^"^ Pif^^- It ^o'Jd heather at Barnet, fepsom, or Tunbridge, all of which places are mentioned by contemporary lettS 87 98 love Letter* from Dorothy Oibome I wntew as health resorts. At Bamet there wa« a calcareous spring with a small portion of sea salt in It, which, as we may gather from a later letter, had been but recently discovered This spring was afterwards, in the year 1677, endowed by one John Owen, who left the sum of £1 to keep the well in repair "as long as it should be of 8er\rice to the parish." Towards the end of last century, Lyson mentions that the well wa< m decay and little used. One wonders what has become of John Owen's legacy. The Epsom spring had been discovered earlier in the oenturv rt was the first of its kind found in England. The town was already a place of fashionable re- sort on account of its mineral waters; they are mentioned as of European celebrity ; and as early as 1609 a ball-room was erected, avenues were planted, and neither Bath nor Tunbridge could nval Epsom in the splendour of their appoint- ments. Towards the beginning of the last cen- tury, however, the waters gradually lost their reputation. Tunbridge Wefis, the last of the three watenng-places that Dorothy may have visited, IS still flourishing and fashionable. Its springs are said to have been discovered by Lord North m 1606; and the fortunes of the place were firmly established by a visit paid to the springs by Queen Henrietta Maria, acting under medical advice, in 1630, shortly after the birth of i-rinoe Charles. At this date there was no ade- quate accommodation for the royal party, and Her Majesty had to live in tents on the banks of the spring. An interesting account of the eariv legends and gradual growth of Tunbridge Welta JEarly Zetten 99 Northa„,j,to„shi.^. ' Hel.tw 'w« atell" 1638 The Rev. W. Betham, with that optimum thmks "that he was esteemed one of the^t accomphshed peraons of the time, being a geX man, not only of fine learning, but failed for hk piety and e«raplary life.'?' Dor^? thiiS otherwise, and writes of him aa « the vafnest ^ eCrtS''''-'?.''*^*^' i^'H'ed o^;s c ever vet I saw." Peerages in Dorothy's stvle would perhaps be unprofitable writW & "Emperor," as Dorothy calls him in v^tineto Temple, may feel thanl&ul that hisepitepK in others hands than hers. He aDneirTiU wf Bad her brother's good offices, which I fear were not much m his fivour with Dorothy. He nlti y^ Stoneleigh, some time in the foUowing Sir Thomas Osborne, a Yorkshire hamnat ™nt.,^7r ?\'^'" " *'"'"»•» o' Dorothy; Ws mother, fiizabeth Danvers, being Dorothy's^aun" He afterwards mamed Lady Bridget Lindsav the Ear of Lindsay's daughter, andX mrffi ^mentioned m due course, with DorothAS ments. His leadership of the « Country "tar^' least of ave«KSht H^^n" ^ ^''''%^^ «t to the high K of tb« R^»^ ^"^•™*''^ and Heni^ f^™^ n ® "*"*« ^^en this man Had she'Ln «7mbST"* hersuit^ historians ^vould haw stnV^ f T''?' '.""Wons charaottr ir drillianln^ri^ ^ do jastioe to her no need at th"s dS'for^;'?*^ there would be among the cefeL'^ i^m'en o^E^nK" '"^ SrB,-There is nothing move, my charity like a'",^u;fTa7^" "^ "^"^ ^ th^ankfuT^of : Trr -h "-"y "P"' » wu not nor. to lSi.™^„?h ^T "°'^' "'*'' ■ "■ »•' "Pl l^" »«.ll.er, b«,™ it ,„jj ,^ j^ toletyoa,2Ta?rb;re-f ~'"'''^"'^- ^'•<' you did youtt. S ""^ ^^» »7 »tor^, u Hoose. ^ ^ '""^ ""^ P«ting at Goring «> weary ofZTa't ?« ?."" °°' ''°'- l-' ^"a any tenis U'^^t W 7'^'* f^ ^ith it upon to'go down wth^L"^ lir i ^* "^^ *'~'^«' he came back madT !k , • ^°'"^' ^''°' ^hen would permit, and th« h " "^ ffo«i a countiy oj iivinrr.?rft . „ r^Sc" '^^ ^^^ --^ of time and money to mSc^atf^ Proportion confine he«elf to -E , L ^°'' * ^°°""» ^ -nuch) I wa. wiUing to Se^^, '* T™ "°* oonaiderable enonjh to b^?l ' """^ "«'« '* I Iwd no quarrel tfL« *^^ engagement, was in love tJJu, „^^,.P^"°" °' ^" 'ortnne, but -ith a tbing^cSr^;^:!^ --^ out of love thanked God I was snTT.!^' ^ ^*^« «Jnoe 89 Love LttUrt from. Lorothy Otbonu ^n t, which does not mend the matter much. Both made me glad I had Wped him, and «,rry for hi. mufortune, which in earnest was the least return his many civilities to me could deserva FrewnUy, after this was at an end, my mother fwtll. A»r 'f ** ""^'^^ »° "«>"™ her loss ■while. At length my aunt (with whom I was when you last saw me) commanded me to wait on her at London; and when I came, she told me how much I was in her care, how weU she loved me for my mother's sake, and something which ended m a good motion (as she cali'd it) ; and truly I saw no harm in't, for by what I had heard of the gentleman I guessed he expected a better fortune than mine. And it proved so. Yet he protested he liked me so well, that he was very angry my father would not be per- suaded to give £1000 more with me ; and I Wm so 111, that I vowed if I had £1000 less I should have thought it too much for him. And so we parted. Since, he has made a stoiy with a new mistress that is worth your knowing, bnt too long for a letter. I'll keep it for you After this, some friends that had observed a gravity in my face which might become an elderly man's wife (as they term'd it) and a mother-m-law, proposed a widower to me, that had four daughters, aU old enough to be my sis- *«»; bat he had a ereat «f.f «»ntlewn u ever E?^ -T^^' ""■ *■ ''n" • nothing on't): W« ,. 1°®'^. ^"° (yoa will «iy •*w; to wj more wer^^ !^ ®''^'" y«* ^ tot:;;raUrLrrreSr^^"^--^"^ Jir^'oo?/"i^f-^^^^^^ very fom^aJ add.^°'j'"J*"'''' l'"* he made mother and mj^w T' *"*' ""««««» i-" bredastorrpleLnte/fh *P^''°'t- This yet, but solon^o^e th?r^ ^ ^*^" *«" y«° we meet, or mafeVrier oSr'^*' ^* ^"^ that purpose tT adll^''";"*^* *"' »»<' ^^ There I J^„t the l^Sld of S. ^'^ ""*'"• at niy coming home fou„/Iw '""'"'^'' *"'* (who has somf S i^ t^ ^''* * gentleman estate m this country) had been 84 Love Letters from Iforothy Oihome treating with my brother, and it yet goes on fair and softly. I do not know him so much as to give you much of his character: 'tis a modest, melancholy, reserved man, whose head is so taken up with little philosophic studies, that I admire how I found a room there. 'Twas sure by chance; and unless he is pleased with that part of my humour which other people think the worst, 'tis very possible the next new experiment may crowd me out again. Thus you have all my late adventures, and almost as much as this paper will hold. The rest shall be employed in telling you how sorry I am you have got such a cold. I am the more sensible of your trouble by my own, for I have newly got one myself. But I will send you that which was to cure me. 'Tis like the rest of my medicines : if it do no good, 'twill be sure to do no harm, and 'twill be no great trouble to take a little on't now and then ; for the taste on't, as it is not excellent, so 'tis not very ill. One thing more I must tell you, which is that you are not to take it ill that I mistook your age by my computation of your journey through this country ; for I was persuaded t'other day that I could not be less than thirty vears old by one that believed it himself, because he was sure it was a great while since he had heard of such a one as Your humble servant. ■Early Lettera 35 onoo "wSk it l5Lf .?° '"'« ■» '»' """>' o,» -c- December 24, 1653. HiB,-Yon may please to let my old servant much to hB merits and the many obligations 2 landnes. and civilities has laid ujon mVb^t ,t the ten pound he claims, it is noVyet due, „d J oeDts, for tis a very uncertain one. In all tkmgs else, pray say I am his servant. A^ now, sir let me tell you that I am extremSy gad (whosoever gave you the occasion) to W bomjon, since (without oomplimentXe^ very few persomi in the world I am more cT «r^od m; to find that you have overc^ryonr" lon(j journey, and that jro« are weU and to" 36 Love Lettera from Dorothy Osborne place where 'tis possible for me to see yon. i. such a satisfaction a* I, who have not been ^ed to many, may be allowed to doubt of. Yet I wiU hope my eyes do not deceive me, and that I have no forgot to read; but if you please to jo^m ,t to me by another, you Low' S^ to Your humble servant, PorMrs-Paynter, D- Osbobi™. In Covent Garden. (Keep this letter tiU it be caUed for.) ZetterS. flrn T* *i. January 2nd, 1663, nl^ir /" ''^" anytWng in my letter that pleaded you I am e:ttremely glad on't, 'twas aU due to you and made it but an equal return for the satisfaction yours gave me. And whatsoever you may beheve, I shaU never repent the good ^imon I have with so much rea^„ taienC But I forget myself; I meant to chide, and I thmk this w nothing towards it. Is it possible ^u came so near me a. Bedford and would not TfrZ T'^^y' ^ '^""^^ "^^ ^^^ ''elieved lt« T^^'i ''°"^'* ^°"' ^^'^^ tad lost aU has legs mstead of a hoof, that he might not havj hope to find anywhere W.^t"** '^'^^ ""* -old Wish you a^tlnd i'^^ft"''- ' am so anirrv with .r™, * ® misohanoes, I ima^ne howl had^o^t v ""^ ^« ^ «>°ldnot °aU that a silence o^l^' °' 1^^ y°° '^"'^d you intendedlr^a J ZZ ""tit T?"^ wearied myself with tS^ of^ tS'° V*** wg accidents that might cauf,^; f ?f ""P^"* down with a resolutif n <^^ T ^ ** '^"S"" «* lieve, which ^l^t.^^f''^ the best to be- you had begraltwc^^hlLT^'r^^ say you intended) and fW ^/"^^««dyou tJ'-g else. had^^Ldld^'io^^'Lt^tt" know it. In thio ,• ''^ °^°* letting mo Breda to.ll^^ ZCaJ''\''''^''^^ you what you have donl 1?^^ '"''^ ^** "'^ «J^ b««n awayf whaWoa h ^''^ "^^^ y"" h^ve that could Cvou?H '""*'"'*'' ^HoU^^d went no ^^tS/aTd^Xrw^^I^^- you went so far? Ton !, J^ "* **» ^°ow nie in all these j Ihi'!!^ "^^ ^«" *« '"'t^fy questions else, when I »« ^T"** y°» ^ith «l*d to go thi^er «L /""' ^^'^^^^^ ^ill be when thaf wm 1 1 S". '^"''^ "'' ^^^''^'^ father has lo small ? '^'*^"'^ '"'y' ^o' '"y ^^ sin "m; I tr\Tir thati '^.*'' ^^'^ *-alfearofhim.andrr:';rfte„":^-e 88 Love Lettert from Dorothy OOome h« !5 Tl ^^ ^^^ "•« *« J^ from home. iMt he should at some time ..ant such little J^ a. I am able to lend him. Yet I think to ^ I^on mthe next term, and am .a« 1 2aU demre It because you are there. Sir, your humble servant. ofTyEir'^^" snbiishJdST^^o^s 1646.' ^ ♦ * magnificent folio published^ RivS^Jf"^ "' Holland's daughter, Lady Diana 4te was pursued, taken prisoner, and kept ii ^, ^rly Letters the forms and cepernnniL ?'.™ «"»rdanoe with death His he^TrsK-Joff^ adjud|edt of Westminster HaU one^w ^ *"*/ "'^ t^^* gate the follovring veaTand^^t^'^r?^ "owning S quired HoUand HoZ,^l.-^Z "•*'^ge he So- wards passed by S^!^'^^?' ^^ich after^ jerj diS^nt M &„?*« *^ hands rf a fiunons amono- tjl j.^*^*"*!' and has be-nm^ daaghterraS« J°»«« of tondo" *SiTi| n^Pu\i?^4Hrer^"'=-^ manuscript papf « of ^h^^^. '"°°°« «oK5 writes to Mi. g^ton }^ ^"**«° 'amily. She adding_«Thi8. 1 Im . *° ^^^"^ her in tho P^fr sure, Mr. Button wlU ha^^^^ *"*^ «"«h, I am Sotr*'^' -^'"Ko-uirsr^st "Tour humble servant." ways wish to W more^ ^ "^^"^ ^« ™«wt^- ^ 8iB,-Not to oonfirmt^u'Tf'^?'''^- dreams, but to avoid VoZl ^^""^ ^^"^ ^ you a pleasant one of 2%?"'^^^ ^ *«« "xmine. The night before I 40 Zove LeOert from, DvroUvy OAomt received your first letter, I dreamt one bronght me a packet, and told me it waa from you. I. that remembered you were by your own appoint- ment to be m Italy at that time, aaked the me* senger where he had it, who told me my lady your mother, sent him with it to me; then my memory ftuled me a little, for I forgot you had told me she was dead, and meant to rive her inany humble thaaks if ever I were so £ppy „ to see her. When I had opened the litter I I? " J^*'"' ""«" ' °"« ""^ <^ I remember, an emerald doublet, but broken in the carria«e I suppose, as it might weU be, coming sofa^; t other was pkm gold, with the longert and the strangest posy that ever was; half on't waa Italian, which for my life I could not guess at. though I spent much time about it ; the rest wm tAere was a Mwiage in Cana of OaiUee" which, though it was Scripture, I had not that reverence for it in my sleep that I should have \^IT^ ""} ^'^ ^° ''^'^'■' '-' i» earn^t tto odc^ess on't put me into that violent laugh- ing that I waked myself with it; and as a just punishment upon me from that hour to this I could never learn whom those rings were for, nor what was m the letter besides. This is but as extravagant as yours, for it is as likely that your mother should send me letten as that I should make a journey to see poor people £i»rly letters 41 jj«g«d, or that your teeth riioold drop out at And to remove the opinions you have of my nicjene.., or bemg hard to please, let me a«ure yon I am far from desiring my husband should be fond of me at threescore, that I would not have h,m so at aU. 'Tis true I should be gkd to have him always kind, and know no reason why he should be wearier of being my master, than he was of bemg my servant. But it is very pos- sible I may talk ignorantly of marriage ; wheni come to make sad experiments on it in my own person I shaU know more, and say less, for fear of dwheartening others (since tis no advantage to foreknow a misfortune that cannot be avoid^ and for fear of being pitied, which of all thing. I hate. Lest you should be of the same humour IwiU not pity you, lame as you are; and to have lyor yon do not deserve it. Would any one m the jrorfd, but you, make such haste for a new cold before the old had left him ; in a year, too, when mere colds kiU as many as a pUurue «ed to do? Well, seriously, either resoCto have more care of yourself, or I renounce my friendship; and as a certain king (that my learned knight is very weU acquainted with( who, seeing one of his confedemtes in so happy a condition as it was not likely to last, sent wj 42 Zovs Lettertfrom. Dorothy OOortu ambaiaador pnxently to break off the leairae be- twixt them, lest he should be obliged to^oum the change of his fortune if he continued hi. fnend; so I, with a gr«it deal more reason, do ^ that I will no longer be a friend to one that . none to hm«elf, nor apprehend the loss of what you hazard every day at tennis. They had wrved you well enough if they had crammed a dozen ounces of that medicine down your throat to have made you remember a quiaiy: But I have done, and am now at leisure to tell you that It is that daughter of my Lord of Hol- knd who makes, as you say, so many sore eyes with lookmg on her) that is here ; and if I know her at all, or have any judgment, her beauty is the least of her exoeUencee. And now I speak Of her, she has given me the occasion to miSea request to you; it wiU come very seasonably after my chid,^. and I have great reason to ex- pBot you should be in the humour of doing «iy. thing for me. She says that seals are much in fashion, and by showing me some that she has, has set me aJonging for some too; such as we know anybody that m lately come out of Itiy tu. ten to one but they have a store, for they an veiy common there. I do remember you once sealed a letter to me with as fine a one i I h"" wen. It was a Neptune, I think, riding upon a dolphin 5 but I'm afraid it wa. not yon«, for I «w t no mor«. My old Roman head i.^ p^ •nt for . pnnoe. If .nch things come in IZ w*y, pray remember me. I am «,ny my ne" o«ner make, you rise «, early, 'tis not g,^ for your cold ; ho«r might we do that you S^t lie to^trj;*\^*^'^°"^'"*«''' Youmfstnse ^ZT i! "^ °°°"*' ^ ^^^ that it may be »nre to be ready against he goer In eaiiest h««lth and my letter, may be both secured, for the loss of either would be very sensible to Your humble. sols' 'fe^h'/f''^'? ".*''« '°^» here do- S Whv^ ff* *T *^»"«^t«rs, and it is one mot^e~iS^^?'^^o'^1f t w^r ^•'"P^^ » to^ne of themf^TCeluH ^L^^i [^^S ntS^rf^'^ yo" are so e«y to please, sure I rtall not nuss it. and if my idle dreams and thoughts wUl satisfy you, I am to blame ?f ^u w«t long letters. To begin this, let me teU you I had not forgot yon in your absence. I always fflewit you one of my daughters. You shouW if™ ^r*, y°" «'»"«'«. '"»d, trust me, they say jome of them are handsome; but since thin^ did not succeed, I thought to have said nothing ^ love ZtUrt from LoroOy Otkomt tor my good intention, or nither liTyou Sodd be too maoh affected with the thought ofwhlt b^n . ^ rtrengthening to raj Party^ y^ •V) bat, in earneet, it was not that I aimed at C' rtheMn'iT L'^^r^-^ • »«» ««s: ^bould aU havell J^^i ZT^:J:. rieTyi."" *""" P°°' young wenchr,^ M weary of his gororament a« I could have been He gives them such p„«ept^ a. they 1 my Ijrd of Dorchester give. hi. wife, fnd keS ttiem so much prisoner, to a vile house he h« K Northamptonriiire, that if but once I hiTle" W s„T ?7 T^ ^" ^«^'"« would have ^ hi w V ^""^ °"^« ^ ""d withonl my help; but his good fortune would have It oeed to give you some reasons why the o^e, ^tionwj. not accepted on. The^th^jS^ not that longing to ask a mother-in-law^ ble» »g which you say you should hare had^^r^ X Z" a^-l'^r *« *^ l^e could mS; a good one; b ides, I was not so certain of hk nature as not to doubt whether she i^hVmJ corrupt it, nor so confident of his iSdnSs L 2 a-ure myself that it would h-tTonS:^^ ■&Wy L*tt»r» 45 ether people of hii age and homonr. lamaorry to hear he looks ill, though I think there is no great danger of him. Tis but a lit of an ane he has got, that the next charm cures, yet he will be apt to faU into it again upon a new oocar ■on, and one knows not how it may work upon Us thin body if it comes too often ; it spoiled his beauty, sure, before I knew him, for I could never see it, or else (which is as likely) 1 do not know It when I see it ; besides that, I never look lor It in men. It was nothing that I expected made me refuse these, but something that I feared ; and, seriously, I find I want courage to marry where I do not like. If we should once come to disputes I know who would have the worst on't, and I have not faith enough to be- lieve a doctrine that is often preach'd, which is. that though at first one has no kindness for «W yet it will grow strongly after marriage. Let them trust to it that think good ; for my part, I am clearly of opinion (and shaU die in't), that. as the more one sees and knows a person that one likee, one has stiU the more kindness for them, so, on the other side, one is but the more weary of, and the more averse to, an unpleasant humour for having it perpetuaUy by one. And though I easily believe that to m?rry one for whom we have already some affection wiU infi- nitely increase that kindness, yet I shaU never M £ov6 UtUn fnm I>orothy OAortu be pemwded that nuuriure ha. » «k. . love oat of nomnaZ^ "'*™ *° ^^ t>uu i """""ft ninoh leH ont of dialik* Thii ii next to telJiiw Ton wh»* t h^T^^i" when I riM. bnt vrnTh. ^''•^ - when I ri.i, JeTntJ^^;;? J ~°''^' *«"y°« my I*dy Diana RioTSv t L*"/"«'««* *» d»«ghter%ho Ueeat^aSLtu"* °' ,««""«»•. me for sore eveeTtw t «?""«w<»Mn'« hard by tiy till ZdoT^' fi^f if '''" "I* '~^« ^i" «>»■ "d find. ^Zti.^t^zrt:"^^'^^ tion from you at ^L^^ ^""P*^* *^« "J*" yoor cold. This i7 ^Z '"*' "^^ ^«» -trangely sc„^We<^^/rb:'"enoT.t ? '" '*^ you«. which i. n^t very ^ th^wik Td'T a- grown so providenf thaf I JiuToJiarou "Z^^^l T ' V°* I "> J"t wlthl, «d MWftore you knoTr hovr to mak* mj«ri when you dImm ■ th„„-i. . , * '°"«*' •j» -«k, br ti. . ,«, ,ute ™rs„ ^.j Tour humble aemnt ■*»rfie3'a'SiS" "'""'^ "» ''• ^« .0 i«i;'»' in- crease, n I «aid nothing of my coming to town I^T^iS'**'^^- ^o'ldonotknowtLt W \'^ "'^*^"'« "'^•"tlj^ i° ""^ We, but twas d«ued me, and I am many times afnJd to w«h a thmg merely lest my Fortune should take that occasion to use me ill. She cannot see, and therefore I may venture to write that I intend 54 Love ZetUrt/rom Dorothy OOome Satatday oome sennight. Be sure you do not ««d ,t aloud, lert Bhe hear it, ^ J«vent me or dnve you away Wore I o^^ Tr^J^^^ n!t ^^' ""* y°" *««'<» »>« going I W ion will laugh, rare, when I .haU teU you that fntr^ ^' "'^^'^ I^Ie wa^togomCSj wto Sweden, I remember'd youTfathaW qujjntanoe in that fanuly with an apJ^eL^ ^f 1^* T * 'fJ ^*^'' '»^'' ^*^"»« » if that 1088 again «. I was after your Yorkshire journey H 1 tproye as long a one, I shall not for^t 3: so W^~* I -haU be so possessed withTstS splenetic fancy that I shaU neyer see you mn^ no nTr on? ' *^ "•»««» 'tory; we'll haye hlt^uX''^ ^''" '" y°" °ff" <" your ^„ • ul V"*'' y**" " *o claim your promise • oX^wth v^o' *"'"*^ "^'"^ employmeJte S be a S « ujf^iT '~^«' ^ *^''J' I "tould be a httte exalted with remembering that you my growmg proud tha« l^i^g sir JustinSSI ■®w^ Zettera 55 1 i»d a Latin letter of his for von. th«t h. ^r to a great friend at Orford, whC h^^v^Z* » long and learned oharaoUr of me-^^^^^o^ fanltB wa« a height (he would not caU it pdTrt that was, „ he had heard, the humour ofmv -rC-f^ri-Sarire^^ veiy great likelihood of your beinranX^r or that, if you were. I should have your 3^ ' by thrS^*"'*^^'""-^' 'Ustoitped oy that tune mine come over, they may b/rrf fashion again, for 'tis an humour ihaWo^oM acquamtance Mr. s„.ith and LsTdy^o u^n^i °K^*'7.'"^'*« "«^ tweSy'^stX upon a nbbon, like the nuts boys pUy wSf ^do^nothearofanythingeh.'^ ^St^' presented h« mistress bat a dozen such seals as are not to be valued as times now go Bnt^ propos of Monsr. Smith, what a sca^ h„ I S:^;°^^^yBarbu;y; andXro^d^t h»ve dreamt he should have had my liLi^ fi6 III ^ ! i\ I I.ove Letten from Dorothy Otbvmt Sunderland, though he be a very fine gentleman, and does more than deMrre her. I think I shall never forgive her one thing ihe laid of him. which waa that she married him out of pity • it was the pitifnUest saying that ever I heard, wd made him so contemptible that I should not have mamed him for that reason. This is a stranse letter, sure, I have not time to read it over, but 1 have said anything that came into my head to put you out of your dumps. For God's sake be m better humour, and assure yourself I am as much as you can wish. Your faithful friend and servant If^ 8.-The name of Algernon Sydney oo- OTrs more than once in thesi pjures, and it k therefore only right to remind th^eJof sSno JL^JS^.I*^*"^^.^!""- Howasboml^ 1622, and waa the second son of Robert Earl of roMU to England he espoused the popular cause Moor. In 1651 he was elected a member rf the tte'^/^ State, and in this situatiorheJT tinned to act until 1663. It is unnecessary to mention his republican sympathies, and Xr the dwmissal of tlie Pariiaieit^ his future^tions concern « but little. He was arrestVd S and executed in 1683, on the prSe of S concerned m the Bye House Plot. * Arund^ HgwarcT WM Henry, second aoji of tb^ •""'■A Urn 2™, 5 ^S"^ Howtrd, to Itaiil^ lum from ti. Eul o( Bertohirt self f«- ♦iT- • *"®J^ '^^'f tJie devil him- »Btf for their pattern that did it, for in myUhi \ I \ 88 Zout Zttten from Dorothy OAorn* me so mnoh freedom with her, that I oonld eadly pat her npon the disoonne, and I do not think ■he wonld nae mnoh of diagaiie in it towards me. I ihonld have gneised it Algernon Sydney, but that I cannot see in him that Jilcelihood of a for- tune whioh yon seem to imply by laying 'tii not present. But if yon shonld mean by that, that tifl possible his wit and good parts maynise him to one, yon most pardon if I am not of yonr opinion, for I do not think these are times for anybody to expect preferment in that deserves it, and in the best 'twas ever too uncertain for a wise body to trust to. Bnt I am altogether of your mind, that my Lady Sunderland is not to be foUowed in her marrying fashion, and that Mr. Smith never appear'd less her servant than in desiring it ; to speak truth, it was convenient for neither of them, and in meaner people had bees plain undoing one another, whioh I cannot un- derstand to be kindness of either side. She has lost by it much of the repute she had gained by keeping herself a widow; it was then believed that wit and discretion were to be reconciled in her person that have so seldom been persuaded to meet in anybody else. But we are all mortal I did not mean that Howard. 'Twas Amndd Howard. And the seals were some remainders that showed his father's love to antiquities, and therefore cost him dear enough if that wonld £iirly Ztttert S9 aaiu them good. I am iorry I cannot foUow your oonnael in keeping fair with Fortune. I am not apt to loapeot without just oauM, but in ••rneit if I onoe find anybody faulty towards me, they lose me for ever; I have forsworn be- tog twice deceived by the same person. For God's sakb do not say she has the spleen, I shaU htte it worse than ever I did, nor that it is a disease of the wits, I shaU think you abuse me, for then I am sure it would not be mine; but were it certain that they went together always, I dare swear there is nobody so proud of their wit as to keep it upon such terms, but would be ffM after they had endured it a while to let them both go as they came. I know nothing yet that is likely to alter my resolution of being in town on Saturday next ; but I am uncertain where I •haU be, and therefore it will be best that I send yon word when I am there. I should be glad to see you sooner, but that I do not know myself what company I may have with me. I meant this letter longer when I begun it, but an extreme cold that I have taken lies so in my h sad, and makes it ache so violently, that I hardly see what I do. I'll e'en to bed as soon as I have told you that I am very much Your faithful friend and servant, B. OSBOBNX. M III OHAPTEB ni in» AT 0BI0K8Ain>8. 16S8 IttUf 9.— Temple's skter here mentioned wu mS l^T' ""* ?"" ^^^ » »'<*°w within two SSh^^m^i'"" "S*;:^^ S*"* afterward, lived G ffa.^' ?i ""*" confldential*friend. Lady SL^Hn^ Is** a manuKript life of her brothw from which the historian Conrtenay deimed to extract some information, whereby welStura have.beneflted. She ontUred bot^ her Soth" .'"o^i tI^'L'^"!^""''' Jf- Jonathan with aJA*4. — — ~^"«» • iuuanaensis, Jllr. i i^«.Tl ^'^PL"'" "*«~'y «">•«»• Esther \^m2l^ '"'fortunate Stella, was Lady Gtf! bee^^^wf 1^ ^"^ ^'^^ »PP«" to have Sh^ wSd^i^H .h**'^.?*'"P?°'°'" »**''» date. fr!k . n "*° t**^ "» the oripnal French : and. Vt Tthir""''"^*"'' hadlscom^Tr^S «™^K ^'^ .'''T "'nances were much ad^^ Stand ffl^' °' *"**a » *^>« ^^^^ t« S stand, until we remember that Fielding the fl«f and greatest English novehst, wm yft unborn Mid novels, as welnow them, non^xisW B^ mXCT g"^' .t^-l^tors; 4Sin on^ mysterious F. G. Can*— the translation was pub- ag ^ lAft at ChieiuatuU tl Mud in this year; GUopAlr*. in RioUrd Lore- da^ an elegant letter-writer of this time. AriammM. or L» Grand Oyrut, the matter- pieoe of Mademoiaelle "i deleme de Sond«ri, ia oont^ed in no leas i, n ten "olnmea, each of which m iti turn has ii,i,\r/ bo'uo ■ r ii^ in fact, more a collection ri iv,!i,t.n,-rR thtn , wngle vS- raance. Za CWoj^ii' «, u g'in;!ar woi waaorie' mally pnbliihed in ; rtray thro.. • iinmea of twelve parts, eacr part -< ..:,u;.>i-^' t!iree or four booltt. It ia bnl a cotl jirxn oi" short itoriee. Ito anthor rejoiced '.u. tic ? .mantio title of Oanthier de Gostes CLovul' t Su„ntar de la Cat prenede; he published 1, ' Jreni 1642; bewaa the author of other romancei, and some tragediea, noted only for their worthleasnea^ EvenKiohe- lieu, "ouoiqn' admirateur indulgent de Um6di- aches her. and W ake a gnwious prmcess she receives him, that ^ey say « worth one's going twenty miles to see It. AU our ladies are mightily pleased with the ex le, ^, j ,^ ^^^ g«j that tJ^e^in ?us2^n •'I'*' f ' ^'" ""''•''*»''« Sir Solomon Justmmn wishes her in the Indias. for fear riie should pervert; his new wife says. If you mean to make love to her old ^ dying; this cold weather kills her, I think" It has undone me, I am sure, in killing an old |; '! 1 1' 11 ■■ i I " 66 £ove Letttr* from Dorothy Otboms Irnight that I have been waiting for this leren year, and now he dies and wiU leave me nothing I believe, but leaves a rich widow for somebody I think you had best come awooing to her; I have a good interest in her, and it shaU be all employed m yonr service if you think fit to make any addresses there. But to be sober now again, for God's sake send me word how your iowney goes forward, when yon think you shall begin it and how long it may kst, when I may^pert your coming this way; and of aU things, remC b« to provide a safe address for your letters when you are abroad. This is a strange, con- fused one, I believe ; for I have been caUed away twenty times, since I sat down to write it, to my father, who is not weU ; but you wiU pardon ifr- we are past ceremony, and excuse me if I say no more now but that I am toujour, U meJ,, that is, ever Tour afFectionate friend and servant a ^^.^^■~^*'™*''y"'™fferingfrom« the'bore^ot a Temple's father was at this time tryinir to at- Dorothy calls her. Courtenay thinks she may be one Mistress Chambers, an heiress, wb^llti- mately married Temple's brother John, and tS conjecture is here followed. ", aau wiis 81B,— Your last letter came like a pardon to one upon the block. I had given over the hopes ont, having received my letters by the other earner, who was always [wont] to be last The loss put me hugely out of order, and you would have both pitied and hiughed at me if you could have seen how woodenly I entertained the widow who came hither the day before, and surprised me very much. Not being able to say anything. I got her to cards, and there with a great d«jalof patience lost my money to her;-or rather I gave It as my ransom. In the midst of our play in comes my blessed boy withyour letter, and in earnest, I was not able to disguise the joy it gave me, though one was by that is not much your fnend, and took r.otice of a blush that for my Me I could not keep back. I put up the letter m my pocket, and maoe what haste I could to lose the money I had left, that I might take occasion to go fetch some more; but I did not 68 Love Zettert from Dorothy Otbom* I i I make such haste back again, I can assure yon, ' I took time enough to hare coined myself some monqr if I had had the art on't, and left my brother enough to make all his addranes to her If he wer" «o disposed. I know not whether he was pleased or not, but I am sure I was. Ton make so reasonable demands that 'tis not fit yon should be denied. You ask my thoughts but at one hour ; you will think me bountiful, I hope, when I shaU tell you that I know no hour when you have them not. No, in earnest, my very dreams are yours, and I have got such a habit of thinking of you that any other thought intrudes and proves uneasy to me. I drink your health every morning in a drench that would poison a horse I believe, and 'tis the only way I have to persuade myself to take it. Tis the in- fasion of steel, and makes me so horridly sick that every day at ten o'clock I am making my wiU and taking leave of aU my friends. Ton will believe you are not forgot then. They tell me I must take this ugly drink a fortnight, and then begm another as bad; but unless you say so too, I do not think I shall 'Tis worse than dying by the half. I am glad your father is so kind to you I shall not dispute it with him, because it is much more in his power than in mine, but I ghaU never yield that 'tis more in bis desire, since he wm ^fe at Chicktandt qq much pleued with that which was a t™th »i. l»^- I am not displeased that my Lorf PT .STt yoB should be here. ' ^^'^ """**"*> ! 't!l ' TO Z, two daya, that I do not thi^y I ghall aooejpt of the offer ahe made me of living with her in en c :uy father diea before I have diapoaed of mjs^L.. Yet we are very great frienda, and for my comfort ahe aaya ahe will come again abont the latter end of Jnne and stay longer with meu My aunt ia atill in town, kept by her bnsineaa, which I am afraid will not go well, they do so delay it; and my preoioua nnole doea 80 viait her, and ia ao kind, that without doubt ■ome mischief will follow. Do you know his son, my cousin Harry ? 'Tis a handsome youth, and well-natured, but such a goose ; and she haa bred him so strangely, that he needs all his ten thousand a year. I would fain have him marry my Lady Diana, she was his mistress when he was a boy. He had more wit then than ba has now, I tUnk, and I have less wit than he, sure, for spending my paper upon him when I have so little. Here is hardly room for Your affectionate friend and servant. Zetter 11. — It is a curious thing to find the Lord General's son among our loyal Dorothy's servants ; and to find, moreover, that he will be as acceptable to Dorothy as any other, if she Life at ChioktantU tL uurer Oromwell'i second eon. How Dorothv became acquainted with him it is hnposri We to •ay. Perhaps they met in Franca I^^SSS to Hutchinson calls him «a debauched ungodly S^.^.*** «"?""*' 'f"* ^l'»°J' ''• need not draw .My unkinder conclusion than that he was no solemn pnntanical soldier, but a man of the world, brighter and more courteous than the fre- quenters of his father's Council, and therefo^ Hnntmgdon in 1627, the year of Dorothy's birth. S ll^„?& under Harrison in ie47f colonel m fteland with hu father in 1649; and married Wi«wW° Pi*""^.' 2? *^*y 10th, 1668, to Ehiabeth, daughter of Sir Francis feusseU of I<)ra-Deputy in Irelancfin 1667, but he wearied t^lT^ °' transplanting the'lrish Mid jK h,S„2^^ new settlers, wh?oh, he writes, only broi^ht him disqmet of body and minT Thi led to hu retirement from public life in 1668. «»^n ^7 *'*«5''"ds, at tfce Restoration, he fW.J^ ^r ** ^i"??*/ ^^^y' near Is^am, iXM ^'"' '"? ^^^ •'n the 23rd of March ♦J? „: VT" , -J* "^^^y ^^"^ ^^ which remain fto^urS tZl "' ^'"^ ^~""«"' ^^""•y'" SiE,— I am so far from thinking yon ill-natured for wishing I might not outUve yon, that I should not have thought you at all kind if you 7S Zov LtUtrt from. Dorothy Otbomt hMA done otherwiw; no, in oarneit, I w« narer S^H 1? *.T° ■ °"'°'' *•• «««»ioa than toTv IT • "S'^.i""^ •* "" compliment to you to «y it would be very unewy to me then, ,ioe t» not yery pleMwt to me now. Yet you wm Sfe it^:t*r*T.ir^ **• pre^mit, JiUul S. WW /i "' ?,"""*" '*^ »«t tJ»t I intond ll»*i **' "^ *^** I aim at i. but tokeep ml^tlfT^"'™'* *•*"*• They do «, fright me with .teange stories of what the spleen^ bring me to m time, that I am kept in awe with ttem like a child; they teU me 'fwiU not l^ve me common sense, that I shall hardly be fit com ^L?' "Z "T ^"^ "«» tJ-** it wiU end either to a stupidnes. that wiU make me incapable of anything, or fill my head with «,ch whiSi « w^ir^! f I "'^""^°'"- ^° P'«^«''t this, who ^d not take rteel or anything,-thouSf i ^^ partly of your opinion that 'tis an ill kind S S"wa?V r -"««'-» that I take itthi safest way, for I do not take the powder as mny do, but only lay a piece of steeTin white r4;,-r' .""f * '^^ ^^^ *^« •'^'»i««^ next mormng which one would think were nothing and yet 'tis not to be imagined how sick it mkJS ^t tame one must be using some kind of eJ ercwe. Tour feUow-servant has a blessed time Life at Ckiektandt 78 on't that ATw you mw. I make her pUy at ■hutUeoook with me, and die i. the%«rie.t bungler at it ever you ttw. Then am I ready to beat her with the batUedore, and grow «, pee- vuh a. I grow Mok, that 111 undertake ihe wiahM there were no steel in England. But then to Mwmpenae the morning, I am in good humour ail the day after for joy that I am weU again I «n UM 'twill do me good, and am content to be- lieve it ; If it does not, I am but where I waa I do not UM to forget my old acquaintances. Almanzor is as fresh in my memory as if I had visited his tomb but yesterday, though it be at i*^* ''^"° ^®"' ■*°'" •*"**• ^o" ^^ ''>eUeve I had not been used to great afflictions when I made his story such a one to me, as I cried an hour together for him, and waa so angry with A^oidiana that for my life I could never love her after it You do not tell me whether you re- oeived the books I sent yon, but I will hope you did, because you say nothing to the contrary They are my dear Lady Diana's, and therefore I am much concerned that they should be safe. And now I speak of her, she is acquainted with your aunt, my Lady B., and says all that yon say of her. If her niece has so much wit, will you not be persuaded to like her ; or say she has not quite so much, may not her fortune make it up? In earnest, I know not what to say, but if MiCROcorr resolution test chart (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2) _^ APPLIED IIVMGE In S?*^ 1653 East Main Strae) ^^^ Rochssler, New York 14509 USA ^S ( 7 1 6) *92 - 0300 - Phone :^^ (716) 288 - 5989 - Foi. 74 Love Letters from Dorothy Osborne your father does not use all his kindness and all his power to make you consider your own ad- vantage, he is not like other fathers. Can you imagine that he that demands £5000 besides the reversion of an estate will like bare £4000? buch miracles are seldom seen, and you must prepare to suffer a strange persecution unless you grow conformable; therefore consider what you do, 'tis the part of a friend to advise you I you that tis not discreet to refuse a good offer nor safe to trust wholly to your own judgment m your chsposal. I wa. never better provided Wn^M ^^^ u ^™^^ admonishing discourse. Would you had heard how I have been catechized for you, and seen how soberly I sit and answer to interrogatories. Would you think that upon examination it is found that you are not an in- different person to me? But the mischief is, that what my intentions or resolutions are, is not to be discovered, though much pains has been taken to collect all scattering circum- stances; and all the probable conjectures that can be raised from thence has been urged, to see If anything would be confessed. And all this done with so much ceremony and compliment, so many pardons asked for undertaking to coun- sel or inquire, and so great kindness and passion for aU my mterests professed, that I cannot but Life at ChichoMds 75 take it well, though I am very weary on't. You are spoken of with the reverence due to a person that I seem to like, and for as much as they know of yon, you do deserve a very good esteem ; but your fortune and mine can never agree, and m plain terms, we forfeit our discretions and run wilfnUy upon our own ruins if there be such a thought. To all this I make no reply, but that if they wiU needs have it that I am not without kmdness for you, they must conclude withal that 'tis no part of my intention to ruin you, and so the conference breaks up for that time. AU this is [from] my friend, that is not yours ; and the gentleman that came upstairs in a basket, I could tell him that he spends his breath to very little purpose, and has but his labour for hia pains. Without his precepts my own judgment would preserve me from doing anything that might be prejudicial to you or unjustifiable to the world ; but if these be secured, nothing can alter the resolution I have taken of settling my whole stock of happiness upon the aflfection of a person that is dear to me, whose kindness I shaU infinitely prefer before any other consideration whatsoever, and I shall not blush to teU you that you have made the whole world beside so indifferent to me that, if I cannot be yours, they may dispose of me how they please. Henry Cromwell will be as acceptable to me as any one 76 Lmie letters from Dorothy OAorne \ !l?ii } Z^ undertake to counsel, I think you shall do well to comply with your father as fa^ wha^h . '""•^rl*° discover any aversion to what he desires ftu-ther than you can give reason but'tifSt f ''^""°" 'nay be I know not; but tis that of many parents to judge their chil- dren s disUkes to be an humour of approving noth^g that is chosen for them, whicTmany times makes them take up another c 'enying their children aU they choose for thea .elves I Und I am in the humour of talking wisely if my paper would give me leave. 'Tis great JtyhZ 18 room for no more but ^ ^ Tour faithful friend and servant. Zetter 12. „.f 'if''i^''°™ '>" ^ *^° P««t« this week, for my brother sends his groom up, and I am re- tiirlu """^l """"^ advantage of it. Pray, rl« K ?^P'' t"'"^ "'^ ^ y°" ^«t. let "« r^ ceive by him. Tour feUow-servant ia a sweet jewel to tell tales of me. The truth is" I caTno deny but that I have been very careless Z; self, but, alas I who would have been other? I never thought my Ufe worth my care whilst no- body ^as concerned in't but myself; now I shall look upon-t as something that you would no you. But then you must return my kindness Life at CUcksanda 77 with the same care of a life that's much dearer to me. I shall not be so unreasonable as to de- sire that, for my satisfaction, you should deny yourself a recreation that is pleasing to you, and very innocent, sure, when 'tis not used in excess, but I cannot consent you should disorder your- self with it, and Jane was certainly in the right when she told you I would have chid if I had seen you so endanger a health that I am so much concerned in. But for what she teU you of my melancholy you must not believe; she thmks no- body in good humour unless they laugh perpet- ually, as Nan and she does, which I was never given to much, and now I have been so long accustomed to my own natural duU humour that nothing can alter it. 'Tis not that I am sad (for as long as you and the rest of my friends are well), I thank God I have no occasion to be so, but I never appear to be very merry, and if I had all that I could wish for in the world, I do not thmk it would make any visible change in my humour. And yet with all my gravity I could not but laugh at your encounter in the Park, though I was not pleased that you should leave a fair lady and go lie upon the cold ground. That IS full as bad as overheating yourself at tennis, and therefore remember 'tis one of the things you are forbidden. You have reason to thmk your father kind, and I have reason to 78 love Letter » from Dorothy 0»horm temp „e, nor co.ld you like it in me tf I sho„Td do otherwise, 'tvrould make me unwortt If orTST' '"*/ -- that may beTSed th« oi ?^' ^"'^ ^°" ''^ the same condition M the advantages of fortune or person imKile met together m one man should not be p«fe^! before you. I think I cannot leave 7^^ than with this assurance. 'Tis very kte InH ^:ri^f^^ ^ ''^ "^y' I'-wnit'tm Thlr i ^u'' ""««««»««••• Good-night to you youTirer Vh-'""" '"' thecofclusioS your letter. NotLmg can please me better Once^mo.. good-night. I am half in a SI" Your i-i/e at Chicksands 79 were two or threl " Flower Pof.'r^-T a^""^ the old siffn is^vpn in » 'V^'estmg account of «™fr^ '"^/.''^ y°" '^"^ a beating, but in earnest, would it had lighted on my brother J hafwS^M*^ '''*'* *^" greatest hnpatienco that wa« possible, and at last resolved to go out th« Tk, '^\ ?°^ ' ''''^ ^'^^^ I "-'"e down to toL "f' ^ '°"°*' ^'^ *'°'"«' J^^d set up Ws oZ' T "^r '^''P^°« *^« «*"*>!« '"i great order. I could not imagine him so very a beast 80 love Letters from Dorothy Oahome as to think his horses were to be serv'd before me, and therefore wm presently struck with an apprehensic^ he had no letter forme: it went cold to my heart as ice, and hardly left me cour- age enough to ask him the question ; but when he had drawk.- .t out that he thought there was Lv! T I "' '° ^ ''"«' ^ ^"•'=^1^ '"-de him leave his broom. 'Twas well >tis a dull fellow he could not [but] have discern'd else that I wis strangely overjoyed with it, and earnest to Lave hV. ,i^°"^^.'^^ P^' ^""""^ ""ade what haste he could to untie his bag, I did nothing but chide him for being so slow. Last I had it, and, in earnest, I know not whether an entire diamond f, ^Tf^ *""'' '^•'"''' ^''^ pleased me half 80 well; If It would, it must be only out of this consideration, that such a jewel would make me rich enough to dispute you with Mrs. Chambers and perhaps make your father like me as weu' 1 Iiie him, I'll swear, and extremely too, for be- ing so calm in a business where his desires were so much crossed. Either he has a great power over himseW, or you have a great interest in him, or both. If you are pleased it should end thus I cannot dislike it; but if it would have been happy for you, I should think myself strangely unfortunate in being the cause that it went not further I cannot say that I prefer your in- terest before my own, because all youre are so Life at Chicksandt gl much mine that 'tis impossible for me to be happy If you are not so ; but if they could be di- vided I am certain I should. And though you reproached me with unkindness for advising you not to refuse a good oflfer, yet I shall not be (lis- couraged from doing it again when there is oC cation, for I am resolved to be your friend though I know you do not need my counsel, ye I caunot but tell you that I think 'twere very well that you took some care to make my Lady B. your friend, and oblige her by your civilities to believe that you were sensible of the favour was offered you, though you had not the grace now she IS a woman (by all that I have heard of her) that one would not lose; besides that, 'twill become you to make some satisfaction for down- done ""^ " ^"""^ I'^'ly-'twas unmercifully Would to God you would leave that trick of making excuses I Can you think it necessary to me, or believe that your letters can be so long as to make them unpleasing to me ? Are mine so to you ? If they are not, yours never will be so belief that though my letters were more im- pertinent than they are, you would not be with- out them nor wish them shorter. Why should 82 Low LeUenfrom. Dorothy Oslcyrne you be less kind? If your feUow-servant has been with you .he ha. told you I part with her but for her advantage. That I .hall alway. be willing to do ; but whensoever she shall think fit to serve again, and i. not provided of a better mittreM, die knows where to find -Tie ke«n r' "^n* •^°" *^' "^^ ""^ Vleopdtre, pray keep them all in your hands, and the next week I wiU send you a letter and directions where you shall deliver that and the books for my lady. I. ^possible that she can be indifferent to any body ? Take heed of telling me such stone.? if aU those exceUence. she is rich in oannotllU warn a passion without the sunshine of her eyi what are poor people to expect; and were it not a strange vanity m me to beUeve yours can be ^ng^ived? It would be very pardonable ^you to change, but, sure, in him 'tis a mark of s^ great inconstancy as shows him of an humour that nothing can fix. When you go into the Ex- change, pray caU at the great shop above. « The Flower Pott" I .poke to Heams, the man o? the shop, when I was in town, fo; a quart of orange-flower water; he had none that w'as go«' prince This letter ,s writ in great haste, as you maj^ see; 'tis my brother's sick day, and I'm not wiU^ ng to leave him long alone. I forgot to teuTou m my last that he was come hithfr to tryX toire He asked me for you very kindly, and if he knew I wnt to you I should have somethteir mySfrid^^^-^^*^^""^^-^'- Yrs. Chicksands with the astounding news AUifJ^ knd IS filled with intense excitlmort ovef S" well s coup d'etat; and it cannot be unintere^ ing.to quote a short contemiwrary Mcount of ^hl" busmess. Algernon Sydney's fatheTthe Ea^i^Jl u Love Letter! from Dorothy Othorne called in to reinoM th« Speaker, which he rflj: ^.t fe^; iilis,^' Th'JKS :S:S35S.::: the d«,r^ ^^''° ^^ ««'*' '^"d '^ent towards thTlZJu'il r" ""^ *^ """* it was a dream that I writ that part of my letter in, I do not now remember what it was I writ, but seems" wa" very kind and possibly you owe the discover, on" to my being asleep. But I do not repent h for I should not love you if I did not thinTyou dis- cr^ enough to be trusted with the knowledge of all my kindness. Therefore 'tis not thai fS ^'/<' af Chickmnda §5 Spencers, I wish it were 1 1!^ f "" ' "** Is not f h '^'' ^''^^ '^"^ '^'"'™« o? us all now ? is not this a strange turn ? Whof ^ •«»unowc Lisle ? Sure this will «h/ * a. ^°^ ""^ ^""^ TeU me what I Ji t S^ better or worse, oTihS .^ Lr'at "S; c "^ eern'd in't? Fn» ,* "' " *U con- ant world this If M- p- ' ™ a pleas- 86 Love Letters from Dorothy Oelome , -1 : fi'f ings, and whether this would appear so trreat a. breach of the Privil,^ of Parli.lmrnt asSTd^ manduig the 6 members ? But I shall talk treason by and by If I do not look to myself. 'Tis safer talking of the orange-flower water you sent me. m cM-ner has given me a great charge to tell you that It came safe, and that I must do him nght As you say, 'tis noi the best I have seen, nor the worst. ' thi I^i^k!??* T' ^^^ ""^^ ^^^ though this wUl be but a short letter: you may allow me to maie excuses too sometimes; but, seriously, my father is now so continuously ill, that I have hardly time for anything. 'Tis but an ague that he has, but yet I am much afraid that is more than his age and weakness will be able to bear • he keeps his bed, and never rises but to have it made, and most times faints with that. You ought m charity to write as much as you can, for in earnest, my life here since my father's sickness' 18 so sad that, to another humour than mine, it would be unsupportable ; but I have been so u^ to misfortunes, that I cannot be much surprised with them, though perhaps I am as sensible of them as another. I'U leave yon, for I find these thoughts begin to put me in ill humour; fare- well, may you be ever happy. If I am so at alL It IS m being Your I-if« at Chichiandt gy ^^^^f^lToX^lZt^t^^ JT^^- about been a "holy, harm eMman ^L^- *"*^ ^ ^^^ the hate and ridicule of h?.,^ °"* incurred both luB tracts are s HI e^taS^ ^^'P^*'- ^"^^ «' travagant Prophecier^it^^ *^®^ contain ex- phra.eolo^/ofP&<=o'«'hed m the peculiar neSVn?1he oJb''"""^^ ^"^^ -«« a near Vn« of his nuSeroM ?i";i^' ''"^. ^'^ I-^e C I^rdofthelCoroTlfpwn^- S^. Samuel wm parish register there S n„H' """^ 1° J''^ ^awn^ "igs of hS sons and d^Sr^h?p'^"«? t^e christen- not only a colonel in fS^^^^'t. ^ir Samuel was Scout-Zaster Gene,J^i?"t,f«'"^'^'°«''t Army, but £«««*J>-a«, liTOd with Sir Samnii T^ author of «tarj, at some date Drio^„"^irt «" ^ «««- and Dr. Greyr, his Jeftrno^ j*? ^'^^ Restoration- T'^Hudi'ra^^^^t.^^.'^^-'^ that he then the opportunity tnn!f*'*^»«e he had i?g characters of rZlHo^ n^'"^ ^^^ ^^"^ J'>- lover has not beer, nrt ^"^tly encloses to her i 88 I,' i Zove ZeUera from Dorothy Osborne it must have been composed before Henry VIII 's SiSaS'o?'^ ^""P'"' '"^ ^^ ^''^^^^ TV olde bsllad rf the Lonl of Lome, Whoee last Une in King Harrie's day was borne. ml^^vi^/'* °i ^«*™« " (tjLW ^as the old spelling) wL^ fTn !f ^'^^°^ ^^'^y'^ weU-known col- lection of Ballads and Romances. SiB,— You must pardon me, I could not burn your other letter for my life ; I was so pleased to see I had so much to read, and so sorry I had done so soon, that I resolved to begin them again, and had like to have lost my dinner by it. I know not what humour you were in when you writ it ; but Mr. Arbry's prophecy and the faUing down of the form did a little discompose my gravity. But I quickly recovered myself with thinking that you deserved to be chid for going where you knew you must of necessity lose your time. In earnest, I had a little scruple when I went with you thither, and but that I was assured it was too late to go any whither else, and believed it better to hear an ill sermon than none, I think I should have missed his £eUes remarques. You had repented you I hope, of that and all other your faults before you thought of dying. What a satisfaction you had found out to make L^e at Ghickaanda gg me for the injuries you say you have done me I ^«i T TTi '?" ""'**'"•• (*'>°"«'» 't^ °ot the remedy I should choose) whether that were not a certain one for all my misfortunes ; for, sure, I should have nothing then to persuade me to stLy onger where they grow, and I should quickly take a resolution of leaving them and the world at once. I agree with you, too, that I do not see any great likelihood of the change of our for- tunes, and that we have much more to wish than to hope for; but 'tis so common a calamity that I dare not murmur at it; better people have en- dnred it, and I can give no reason why (almost) al are denied the satisfaction of disposing them- aelvM to their own desires, but that it is a happi- ness too great for this world, and might endanger ones forgetting the next; whereas if we ire crossed m that which only can make the world pleasing to us, we are quickly tired with the length of our journey and the disquiet of our inns, and long to be at home. One would think it were I who had heard the three sermons and were trying to make a fourth ; these are truths that might become a pulpit better than Mr Arbry s predictions. But lest you should think I Have as many worms in my head as he, I'll rive over m time, and teU you how far Mr. Luke and I are acquainted. He lives within three or four miles of me, and one day that I had been to 90 Love Letters from Dorothy Osboma visit a lady that is nearer him than me, as I came back I met a coach with some company in't that I knew, and thought myself obliged to salute. We all lighted and met, and I foun« more than I looked for by two damsels and their squires. I was afterwards told they were of the Lukes, and possibly this man might be there, or else I never saw him ; for since these times we have had no commerce with that family, but have kept at great distance, as having on several occasions been disobliged by them. But of late, I know not how. Sir Sam has grown so kind as to send to me for some things he desired out of this garden, and withal made the o5fer of what was m his, which I had reason to take for a high favour, for he is a nice florist; and since this we are insensibly come to as good degrees of civility for one another as can be expected from people that never meet. Who those demoiselles should be that were at Heamses I cannot imagine, and I kpow so few that are concerned in me or my name that I ad- mire you should meet with so many that seem to be acquainted with it. Sure, if yon had liked them you would not have been so suUen, and a less occasion would have served to make you entertain their discourse if they had been hand- some. And yet I know no reason I have to be- lieve thav. beauty is any argument to make you Life at ChicJuandt 91 like people ; unless I had more on't myself. But be It what it wUl that displeased you, I am glad they did not fright you away before you had the orange-flower water, for it is very good, and I am so sweet with it a days that I despise roses. When I have given you humble thanks for it I mean to look over your other letter and take the heads, and to treat of them in order as my time and your patience shall give me leave. And first for my Sheriff, let me desire you to believe he has more courage than to die upon a denial. No (thanks be to God I), none of my servants are given to that ; I hear of many every day that do marry, but of none that do worse. y brother sent me word this week that my fighting servant is married too, and with the news x^ ballad, which was to be sung in the grave that you dreamt of, I think ; but because you tell me I shall not want company then, you may dispose of this piece of poetry aa you please when you have sufficiently admired with me where he found it out, for 'tis much older than that of my « Lord of Lome." You are altogether m the nght that my brother wiU never be at quiet till he sees me disposed of, but he does not mean to lose me by it ; he knows that if I were married at this present, I should not be per- suaded to leave my father as long as he lives- and when this house breaks up, he is resolved to' M Lows Zett&rsfrom Dorothy Oihonie follow me If he can, which he tWnks he mijrht better do to a house where I had some power than where I am but upon courtesy myself Be- sides that, he thinks it would be to my advantam to be well bestowed, and by that he underetands nohly. He is much of your sister's humour, and many times wishes me a husband that loved me as well M he does (though he seems to doubt the possibjhty on't), but never desires that I should love that husband with any passion, and plainly tells me so. He says it would not be so weU for hun, nor perhaps for me, th»t I should ; for he is of opinion that all passions uj,ve more of trouble than satisfaction in them, and therefore they are happiest that have least of them. You think hun kind from a letter that you met with of his • sure, there was very little of anything in that! or else I should not have employed it to wrap a book up. But, seriously, I many times reo^ve letters from him, that were tley seen without an address to me or his name, nobody would believe they were from a brother; and I cannot but teU him sometimes that, sure, he mistakes and sends me letters that were meant to his mistress, till he swears to me that he has none. Next week my persecution begins again; he comes down, and my cousin Molle is alreadv cured of his imaginary dropsy, and n-eans to me*,t here. I shaU be baited most sweetly, but Zife at ChieJuandt gs sure they wiU not easily make me consent to make my life unhappy to satisfy their importu- mt" I waa born to be very happy or very mi^ erable,! know not which, but I am very certain that you wiU never read half this letter 'tis so scribbled; but 'tis no matter, 'tis not much worth it. Your most faithful friend and servant. ini""^ 16.-The trial of Lord Chandos for kill- ing Mr. Compton m a duel was, just at this moment excmn|r the fickle attention of the town, which had^ probably said its say on the subject of CromweU's coup aitat, and waa only too ready for another suBject of conversation ine trial is not reported among the State Trials, but our observant friend the^Earl of LeicertS has agam taken note of the matter in his ioumiS, and can give us at least his own ideas of the S aL m '"'I'^'.Tl "^^ ^'^^ importance. uX K«.ff -? ^^^l*'^ f "^ =-" Towards the end of S k P ' *^ H"* G^^^^Ao,, for killing Z duel Mr. Compton the year before," that fi to Islii'-a^rth' V'^i'T y«" ^^"« *=" March 25th and the Lord Arundel of Vardour, one of his seconds, were brought to their trial for S«iT ^r **. *••" ^.PP«' ^«'>«'' i^ WestminsteJ Hall, when It was found manslaughter only, as )l^JV ** ,K'°8^ton-«Pon-Thamls it had K found formerly. The Lords might have had the pnyilege of peerage (Justice KoUes being Lord nf tf ^"Jf "'^^' ^"* ^'•^y <^«°"°«d i' by the advice of Mr. Maynard and the rest of their counsel, fti L(yo» Zetttrt /rom Dorothy OAomt M acquitted; yet to be to™«?ir*k'u "*',*' ^«'« WM done to them hoth^^ " *^® ^'"'» ^l»wl» verjr favourably ™ ThL ^^ °' *^° "^ter. but that had CTurned^nthrri''* .*"* P«»" Bome 8atisfL?Ln anTd Jf^rr' at the event oircumstancM of th« f riff ~, '"'"' ^''^ whole of the powe? and 8taSv*'of?i;'*S*''«"""°« The EarV however mk3 ?, •*^* Government. Lord Arundel wmKI^'" °?^ particular. He had manded cfcil? rZ Compton^s second, enough actJTS S ttr LM'^ "^"™"7 «.. urn of thoTnowrirl ?» ■!""« to date the letter 0> hi', «i • "^ ^"^ ^^'P^ M BIT Psto Leij arf p^„ , porW, "f j^^ W« at Chichanda 95 land during the CirS wit. . k"1*'u^'1'"'' » Eng- to paint & Ws nSi .^°w"'^"'»«"^" Charies I.; noThll^^^;- ^5,^«' Pointed was to hii CromweTl k^^wl* Cromwell. It "Paint the wartTl min^ /T'' *° ^"'^^ »houted: courtly Sir P^S^ioffi Lilf """J*"' " ^t-^n the Piotur^ even o7ff ?*!S "^'' ^ Prewntable CromweU wm a sonnrl 7^^ ^^'i?^ himself, detected thTm^ Ct o^*^" 'S *'''?' "^"d had whose value to us i« IZ*, f«*er's portraits, artist's con.L*rhSbit"'offi^y''*"''«^»'J^ the ^or I i..e ii. £VT:;;ZZrZi must confess 'twas not for that fn, t jj J.OW U then, but going tole^'i^i ^I ufur up^riltofer "' ^°" ^«**«' ^ '°-"th^ it d^J^ , °P^°' '^ nndemeath where wasTl, "A^l"^ '"''' '^ «ttle wax, the^ a hearTi. h *'i*^P"«*' '* ^«" "^^ anchor and a heart, methonght it did not look like von^ but less, and much wowe cut Thi. ^°° ' was so strong upon mMhaUchid'^Lrf^; fellow was ready to cry, and swore to me C t had never been touched since he had7 and S« ntK T """^"^ °' •*' «"• he never put it wUh h^s other letters, but by itself, and that nowl t come amongst his money, which perhaps mi^ht 96 love LetUrt from Dorothy OAomt break the seal; and lest I should think it was hu cunoijty, he told me very ingenuously he «>uld not read, and so we parted for the present. But since, he has been with a neighbour of mine whom he sometimes delivers my letters to, and begged her that she would go to me and desire my worship to write to your worship to know how the letter was sealed, for it has so grieved mm that he has neither eat nor slept (to do him My good) since he came home, and in grace of God this shaU be a warning to him as long as he lives. He Ukes it so heavily that I think I must be friends with him again; but pray hereafter •eal your letters, so that the difficulty of opening them may dishearten anybody from attempting It was but my guess that the ladies at Heams' were unhandsome; but since you teU me they were remarkably so, sure I know them by it • they are two sisters, and might have been mine If the Fates had so pleased. They have a brother that IS not like them, and is a baronet besides. 'TIS strange that you teU me of my Lords Shandoys [Chandos] and Arundel; but what beromes of young Compton's estate? Sure my Lady Carey cannot neither in honour nor con- science keep it; besides that, she needs it less now than ever, her son (being, as I hear) dead. »ir T., I suppose, avoids you as a friend of W« at Chicktandt 97 ttoe. and have the met ado to puU of thei> tLl!^? **7? ^" -nde'take he would ven- ^^t ^T^'^'Y '*'"'"' of air rather Z • ir out of doom for fear of meeting me. But did you not say in your last that you twk «,ml S;:i"'r.jr!; "■»''" -^«: jnawsn, well, you shall have no more of th«m ^en nor no more servants. I think tS^t^^^" are not necessary among friends "»'">ey QuesSon h *^*'/''" '^e" not pleased with the MtZli^\^' ""^^^ continuance of my yoTiJ^oun^rdltiJ "^CmTLl"'^™ rwoi^K'^tfaVih-"^^^^^^^^^^ r^i^hiifr^"^^^^^^ counted handsome for an old woman; but ahwl L^ "Sv^^^^ t!r' '^^'^ •"'"" -^ «-«^h SS WW r^*^^ ^'«* "'"''^ l"«k ^th serv- the^kin '''''' """'y'"* •"*» ^hat with dying S^mtil m« ^ "^ "• "'"^ ""^ ^"^^J^* that has Tr a Id h«r iV.'*'' """^ '»*'" ^^'^ dead before her, a.id has left her such a widow, it makes me Og Zone tetUrtfrom, Dorothy OAomt £20,000 n money and personal eitute, and aU thi. I .uight have had if Mr. Death had been pleaaed to have taken her instead of Um. "VTelL who can help these things P But since I cannot have hun, would you had her I What say you ? BhaU I speak a good word for yon? She will marpr for certain, and perhaps, though my brother may expect I rfiould serve him in it, yet tf you give me commission I'll say I was engaced beforehand for a friend, and leave him to shift for himself You would be my neighhour if you had her, and I should see you often. Think on't, and let me know what you resolve? My lady has writ me word that she intends veiy shortly to sit at Lely's for her picture for me ; I give you notice on't, that yon may have the pleLure of seeing it sometimes whilst 'tis there. I imagine twill be 80 to you, for I am sure it would be a great one to me, and we do not use io differ in our inohnations, though I cannot agree with yon that my brother's kindness to me has anythinir of trouble in't; no, sure, I may be just to yo? and him both, and to be a kind sister will take nothing from my being a perfect friend. Z««er 17.— Lady Newcastle was Marcaret ?nd ^^' °^ Newcastle. « The thrice nobl?Sl and virtuous, but again somewhat funtastoS i8 W* at ChieluaneU 99 daughter of SrCh,rL LnlJ'" i**' J'*""'*''* Colol.e.ter toward, the1ndo?ti.Il"'*''''i^" ** I- Her mother auDeat t^ ., u "«° <»' J*">e« careful of her e3Sa*in''XirCr'"'''^ ter» as danoioc miuiin .«S .u . ° "^^ter mat- F«uoh tonretbuHKoe^L^^^l*''* made any deen studu 7^? t^ ?"* .■*^ to haro to foUow he? h^tSdM,n '**'^°5 *5« Q""*" ping at RotterfZTnd B«UnrfL*»h tf'""" ?^ thev setUed at Antwerp '"'^ "^"'^ P*"«^ writing lett«»« «ii™ employed her tuSe in oonr^ando'^ifonr &"'■ P'''J°«*P'^«'l ^i^ of heTworks iSXn' J^^I? " *. ^""S catalogue believe, in this vear riftsoi Sr Pubushed, I instance, a poem ofN^ouV lines fo^m thl^' '*"■ md rcnc-i^, enjtled— ■^''*^ 100 Love Letters from Dorothy Oahome THE .om.O OK SEVEH.^.^KXO^H., .XO„s 3UKE8 fancy W6 should find it hard to decide ^Ti^Lt SiBpI received your letter tonlay. when I thought It almost impossible that I^ho„w be mntriffl?""? '"' "^ father's sickness and my owa affliction m it. Indeed, he was then so dangerously ill that we could not reasonably how he should outlive this day ; yet he is now, I thaS^ God, much better, and I am come so much to myself with it, as to undertake a long letter to end^if^Si"^**''''^''^- Towards^tittte^ end It will be exceUent stuff, I believe; but, alw I you may allow me to dream sometimes, i tZl Jl" " t ^""^ """^ '"^ f^'^- -^ -ok that I am never thoroughly awake. Lord, how I have ^hed for you! Here do I sit ^ night by a poor moped fellow that serves my father anJ too. If you heard the wise discourse that is be- Life at Chicksomdii k^ wnt constantly to her but T^„ 7' """^ -onder that tL rest Lett ^Jt,;: ""' not to have received that wh chlstt / ''"°'' allow me soni« nf it n , •'^ P^^ "™^ 103 m Li- "^™w» mai, than T «r,AA . ' ^ ^®^°^®» '""'^ asleep tban I, and do not so much as dream that I am XlolVr ,^y^«"«™tche«hav C asleep too, till just now the^ be^ to stretoh and Life at Chichsandt 103 viiea to be of their company and m«^ f.*t " I st^n T"" u," *^' '*''"°«*^ °f tWsde/l believe si\n: rs„L; zjiTT' •" be no such i2TLtZenZ:Ti"'f '''''' 104 Love Letters from Dorothy Oslome mingled with it. If, then, you would have me believe yours to be perfect, confirm it to me by a kind freedom. Tell me if there be anything that 1 can serve you in, employ me as you would do that sister that you say you love so weU Chide me when I do anything that is not well, but then maie haste to tell me that you have forgiven me and that you are what I shall ever be, a faithful inend. saying that the first part of it is, to my thinkinff the most damty and pleasing piece of wS that Dorothy has left us. ^e account of he? hfe one day and every day, is like a g^st of J^H -.n^K?*'^ '"' *''""""& ^^«.^ tJ'e inist Sf time and enabling one to see Dorothy at Chioksands quite clearly. It is fashionable to deny mS lay everything but memory; but he h^ the good taste and discernment to admire this letter and ouote from it in his Essay^^S r Sam Temple,-a quotation for whicK I shall™^ remam very grateful to him. ^ Sir Thomas Peyton, "Brother Peyton" wm SThlt 'n'al't^' ' ^"«^«' thesecSbkro^ SuSvof ?r^n; r?* •'"^.** Knowlton, in the w« flL I- "*• J-^""^^ "» the reign of Charles I we find him as Member of Parliament for Sani the t'w„^"8l"V"'* Committee side by side w?th the two Sir Harry Vanes ; the Committee hav- ing been sent into Kent to prevent the diswrsll ,f ™™«'}'^ to the scandal of Parliament^no light task, one would think. In 1643 he is k Life at Chicluandi 105 joiniiur in at th« rtSh ^ other counties not tir^ , "Snt moment, in accordance k 'if! gfneral procedure at Eo>alist ri^C i? S^^ lSm^'> ^"'f « takenprisoner near Bury St. Edmunds brought to the douse of cZmonY and committed to the Tower A Wo-h* ^ *? ' ^n-in,law of good Sr PeTer! wltt glad'tJ hS shower T/r"/'^ ''''- '>•" ^^ ^f« on faiS'tf;! ^*^« ''««'i reckoning up how many and I r. ?^ *° "^^ ""^"'^ ^° ^°»^^'«* letter, ^ni„/ iu ""^ .'^^"^' ""J"«*' nnmerciful, and S 'T^ w"1; 'J"" ''*'"^'* •'"^ <^« ^'^ "^^'l ''U T 2 1 K f^ ^'"' *° ^«' *''<* '*'« to be feared TreS / *"" '" "^ ""*• ^ ««X nothing of the pretty humour you fancied me in, in your dream, because 'twas but a dream. Sure, if it 106 Zove ZetUrt/rom Dorothy Oalome had been anyUimg else, I should have remem- and his bed to himself. But seriously, now, I wonder at your patience. How could yon hear me talk «, senselessly, though 'twere but in your sleep, and not be ready to beat me ? What nice oodd aUow him room in the same bed with L \ Wdl dreams are pleasant things to people whose humours are so; but to have the sp Jn, and to dream npon't, is a punishment I would not wirii my greatest enemy. I seldom dream, or never remember them, unless they have been so sad aa to put me into such disorder as I can hardly re- cover when I am awaJce, and some of those I am confident I shall never forget. Ton ask me how I paasmy time here. I can give yon a perfect a«ld foreet you he would not help my memory. You TiJu' h Ta- oSeL"""'' **" T ''o^^any servants hi Has offered me smoe he came down- hm «„! :i;"nf ^r^ ' ^^-^ ^« ^ inre'w!;rhr nif Sderhr%t""or ui^j^r '^"^ gentleman he has ^n thT J^^L*'\uuS rn^hief on-t is he has not above^Sn ;r sfx SSn' to ?h1nr "' " ^^' "^"'^'^ ^« --«" e oegms to think one miirht batA *Kr>n „ ^ -uchahusband. I tell ht^amgad ^C ^ the first extremely. I have spleen enomrh to 1 1 2 Zow letin-t from Dorothy Oihomt than b« obliged to that, I'U make none. You have so often reprobohed me with the Ion of your liberty, that to make you lome amends I am contented to be your prisoner thii rammer; but you ahall do one favour for me into the bar- gain. When your father goes into Ireland, lay your commands upon some of his servants to ani you an Irish greyhound. I have one that was the General's ; but 'tis a bitch, and those are al- ways much less than the dogs. I got it in the ^me of my favour there, and it was aU they had Henry Cromwell undertook to write to his brother Fleetwood for another for me; but I have lost my hopes there. Whomsoever it is that you employ, he will need no other instruc tions but to get the biggest he can meet with: tis aU the beauty of those dogs, or of any kind, I thmk. A masty [mastif] is handsomer to me than the most exact little dog that ever lady played withal. You wiU not offer to take it ill that I employ you in such a commission, since I have told you that the General's son did not re- fuse It ; but I shaU take it iU if you do not take the same freedom with me whensoever I am ca- pab e of serving you. The town must needs be unpleasant now, and, methinks, yon might con- tnve some way of having your letters sent to you without giving yourself the trouble of com- ing to town for them when you have no other I-if* at Chiektandt 118 l^nTlL^'"' ?"* P*^°" »• '' I think they cannot be worth it. ^ I am told that R. Spencer i. a -rvant to a lady of aiy acquaintance, a daughter of my Ladv Lex- ington'. I, it truo? And if it be.Wislt ~me of the £2600 lady? Would ^u thiik^ intL, X *" •^'«««dor from the Emperor Jurtm^an that come, to n,new the treaty ?^^ ttir^r n "* *** ^^ '" '*• ^°« t«W me once If T 1 flT^ "'^'""'' y**" "^«» l*™ the best. Well, 1 11 think on't, and if it succeed I wUl be as good as my word ; you shaU take your choice of my four daughter,. Am not I beholding to W 'S;"tmT-' ^«T«>'^thehasmadeaddnL^ Us true, m several places since we parted but ^ZVmt'''^'' *°'^' ^ hisSint;,;; J^^obody that would make so fit a wife 'for if ?^i " °''^° '"'^"^'^ »fter me to hear lnZ^^7r^' »nd somebody told him Ihad an ague, and he presently feU sick of one too so ZJ^ *^»' «».»"y conscience, we shaU nerer many. He desi.^s to know whether I am Z liberty or not. What shall I tell him ? OrLu beTest ' r,f ° "'\'' '"'''^ ' ' '''-'' ^^«t^" .n/.». : tI '"^ ^^^^ y°" •»" ""Jch my friend, and that I have resolved not to dispose of myseS 114 If i love Letters from Dorothy Osborne but with your consent and approbation, and therefore he must make all his court to yon ; and when he can bring me a certificate under your hand, that you think him a fit husband for me. tis very likely I may have him. Till then I am lUB humble servant and your faithful friend. fiw^'ifT-^""^" *^^ ^^^t^"" *»>« Jonraey into mZ ^itl. ^r° "P ®°^^y' ''"'I Timple fs once more without employment or the hope of em- ttef°*-.- ^^H^?* P'-*'''^^ brought about W TorHtf ?*'**'' °* *^* Government plans; andw cfiaiice of Temple's bemg attached to the Em- SiB,— I am sorry my last letter frighted you so ; twas no pari; of my intention it should ; but 1 am more sorry to see by your first chapter that your humour is not always so good as I could ^'^l'^-"^''^ the only thing I ever desired we might differ in, and therefore I think it is denied me. Whilst I read the description on't, I could not bebeve but that I had writ it myself, it waa so much my own. I pity you in earnest much more than I do myself; and yet I may deserve youre when I shaU have told you, that besides all that you speak of, I have gotten an ague that with two fits has made me so very weak, that I doubted extremely yesterday whether I should be able to sit up to^iay to write to you. But i! ill 'ii I Life at Chickscmdt 115 you must not be troubled at thi. ; ttat's the way to kill me indeed. Besid >s, it is inr ossible I should keep It long, for her - h my eld* it brother, and my cousin Molle, and two or Liis-ea more that have great understanding in agues, as people that have been long acquainted with them, and they do so tutor and govern me, that I am neither to eat,drmk,nor sleep without their leave; and sure, my obedience deserves they should cure me or else they are great tyrants to very Uttle pur- pose. You cannot ima^e how cruel they are to me, and yet will persuade me 'tis for my good I know they mean it so, and therefore say noth- ing on't, I admit, and sigh to think those are not here that would be kinder to me. But you were cruel yourself when yon seemed to apprehend I might oblige you to make good your last offer. Alack 1 If I could purchase the empire of the world at that rate, I should think it much too dear; and though, perhaps, I am too unhappy myself ever to make anybody else happy, yet sure, I shaU take heed that my misfortune ma^ not prove infectious to my friends. You aak counsel of a person that is very little able to give It. I cannot imagine whither you should go since this journey is broke. You must e'en bi content to stay at home, I think, and see what will become of us, though I expect nothing of good ; and, sure, you never made a truer remark * 1 ■I :i!i 116 Love Letters from Dorothy Otbome ZTurT,^, "°* "t^yy"" father's journey t^? Methinks It should. For God's sake wrUe me all that you hear or can think of, that I m" y have something to entertain mysel withal I iXr* -rvy head that wiD n^t lette trite PTx. ' am your. [Directed]— For Mrs. Paynter, at her house in Bedford Street, next ye Goate, In Covent Garden. The « squire that is as go5l as a knieht " « ,•„ all probability, Richard %enn^. ThSi B'«n net, his father, an alderman of the cZof ^Z' te^r* •'""^^t * ««»* near Cambrige°caM Sr&cin^^'re'if;* ^^ belong^^^^sfr y J. ttiaviomi. ihe alderman appears to havn mo S,1r"'""' ^- ^'^^^^ crea^Kronitla rLviii Ff *"? *°'"' Sir Richard and Sir ThomM mamed daughters of Sir Lavinius Munck "^ i^rhTirbrr'^*'"'*^y«^''^"ri«^»^^^^^ inghearts by her various refusals. of the loh^tT*^^^**^' 'h« ^'" "«* like the lady or the lobster, and give audience at Babram '' 8h« Life .It Chichands 117 ^he foUowing passage from Wf£u'tZ rae Lady of the Lobster is '^ Whoee foot-pace he doth strook and Jdas." ana JJryden, where he says. « ThA hoW>t ^ nine times too lare^n fnr th/u' j , .'l^^et was or hke a shrivelled bemfyom^fhFJ.y ^^^' house of a modern periwig.'' ^ ^^^ ^"^ SiB,-I do not know that anybody ha« frighted me, or beaten me, or put me into mo"^sS than what I usually carry about me, butCter shall hear no more on't. My father has lost his too, and my eldest brother, but we all look ht People risen fr«m the dead. Only my tul Molle keeps his stUl; and, in earnest, IZZ 118 Love Letters from, Dorothy Oshomt .Si ) ] \ I II 1 1 i :'! (1 ! h; 11 > '!i!;i certain whether he would lose it or not, for it gives him a lawful occasion of being nice and cautious about himself, to which he in his own humour is so much inclined that 'twere not easy for him to forbear it. You need not send me my Lady Newcastle's book at aU, for I have seen it and am satisfied that there are many soberer peo- pie m Bedlam. I'U swear her friends are much to blame to let her go abroad. But I am hugely pleased that you have seen my Lady. I knew yon could not choose but like her; but yet, let me teU you, you have seen but the worst of her. Her conversation has more charms than can be in mere beauty, and her humour and disposition would make a deformed person appear lovely. You had strange luck to meet my brother so soon. He went up but last Tuesday. I heard from him on Thursday, but he did not tell me he had seen you; perhaps he did not think it convenient to put me in mind of you ; besides, he thought he told me enough in teUing me my cousin Osborne was married. Why did you not send me that news and a gar- land ? WeU, the best on't is I have a squire now that is as good as a knight. He was coming as fast as a coach and six horses could carry him but I desired him to stay till my ague was gone! and give me a little time to recover my good looks ; for I protest if be saw me now he wpuld We at Chickaanda 119 never deign to see me again Oh m-i t but think howl shall »ff H^ "»». mel I can on't Tn tho r .. °° '^^®'' I am mistress With it, leSri ^t r ^„Tr '" ^°" ^"^« """^ ^'-rnLtLrj;flS;:rrP is no longer, for ^^'gi^e me that this Addressed- I am your. ForMrsPaynter.atherhousein Bedford Street, next ye Goate, In Covent Garden. Letter 22.— Mr. Fish nn,? nr t, probably neiirhbours of n ^^i. ^^^man were Mr. Bafeh fSI of a "T*''^; There is a fordshirS meEedinoonT'''"' ^*"' *«» H^t- he died iA I7TS 88 «n!f "P^'Ty chronicles ; 37 years of ^e^tthf'f'^ '^*?*''«''ef«''e about to have been a^?rfLi "" *i"^- ^^ father seems says sLlW Pht ''''""^.^^"""^n'an. "wh?" hw gardens nfeSn^^^' """*« ^'« ^'""se ne^t, chU,^en chee? ^th^ ^^ ^'PJ^^ delicious, h^ excellent order in hfsfa^yU** ^J^> »°d kept i' '! ,1 .1 ! 120 X>« trouble of entertainmg a person whose company (here! wou d not be pleading to him, and Srhaw 2 opimon that I -lid it purposely t'o cross Wm.'^ha; that your commg in his absence should be th;ught a concealment 'Twas one reason more than I told you why I resolv'd not to go to Epsom this summer, because I knew he woS imaSne it an ««n3ement between us, and that somSng b: «des my spleen carried me thither; but whfthe^ nS«' ^ ^°" ''™ "* "" '^*»^' to lose your t^S '^«'-/^'i»°«- You will have nothing to thank me for after this; my whole life wi/not 139 Love Letttri from D&roihy Otlomn yield such another oocaaion to let you lee «t what rate I value your friendship, and I have been much better than my word in doing but what I promised you, since I have found it a much harder thing not to yield to the power of a near relation, and a greater kindness than I oould then imagine it. To let you see I did not repent me of the last commission, I'U give you another. Here is a seal that Walker set for me, and 'tis dropt out; pray give it him to mend. If anything oould be wonder'd at in this age, I should very much how you came by your informations. 'Tis more than I know if Mr. Freeman be my servant. I saw him not long since, and he told me no such thing. Do you know him? In earnest, he's a pretty gentleman, and has a great deal of good nature, I think, which may oblige him perhaps to speak well of his acquaintances without design Mr. Fish is the Squire of Dames, and has so many mistresses that anybody may pretend a share in him and be believed ; but though I have the honour to be his near neighbour, to speak freely, I cannot brag much that he makes any court to me; and I know no young woman in the country that he does not visit often. I have sent you another tome of Cyrus, pray send the first to Mr. Hollingsworth for my Lady My cousin Molle went from hence to Cambridg^ I^fe at Chicht»«'• of Sir HertfordsW aiK.ufthrtr'T?'^'' J*"'^ the mansion l,e bought S 1^'* tJ^'' *°'* Monmouth anH ♦»,» " . '""^ the Earl of ChS"Mll%naM'° T^l^^^ 8'' out by the Countess of §^/!5 ^^ ^"^ '"d thep4einl626toth/p , 'i't'"^^" ^a^ sold hou^ wL well kn^wt t^'Viir""^"^ ^ho the gardens inhiJ^v^J^"'^^^''^}""^^'^^ whence retir^ i" if. y °° Gardening; and Famham ^n fim^L^ t*^' y*"^ *« «"» estate near Moor Park ™^' ^^ «*^« *° '* »»»« ^rae of EaS^of MriSr '"h^'^w"'^. *'°°*««"> '^^'o^d Sussex fv.ii^™i/r" u .? '^^ educated at Sidney 1 wr». 1? J * ^^'^ Parliaments of CharlM I- He was called to the Upper House a^^Srf ' 128 Love Letter* from Dorothy Oshome Kimboltou in 1626, and succeeded his father in 1642. His name is well known in history as that of the leader of the Puritans in the House of Lords, and as the only peer joined with the five members impeached by the King. He raised a regiment and fought under Essex at Edgehill, reconquered Lincolnshire, and took part m the battle of Marston Moor. At this time Cromwell was his subordinate, and to his directions Lord Manchester's successes are in all probability due. At the second battle of Newbury, Lord Man- chester showed some hesitation in following up his success, and Cromwell accused him of luke- warmness in the cause from his place in the House of Commons. An inquiry was instituted, but the Committee never carried out their in- vestigations, and in parliamentary language the matter then dropped. He afterwards held, among other oflaices, that of Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, and inducted a visita- tion and reform of that University. He resisted the trial of the King and the foundation of the Commonwealth, refused to sit in Cromwell's new House of Lords, and was among those Presby- terians who helped to bring about the Bestora- tion. Cooper and Hoskins were famous miniature painters of the day. Samuel Cooper was a nephew of John Hoskins, who instructed him in the art of miniature painting, in which he soon out-rivalled his master. Cooper, who is styled by contemporary eulogists the "prince of lim- ners," gave a strength and freedom to the art Which It had not formerly possessed; but where imi lAfe at CAicIuandi 139 Ih« l!i!!?P^^^*° ^^P™^ ™°" o^ tl»e figure than the head, his drawing is defective. Hif paintinff and the lo<»e flowing lines in which he described the hair of his model He was a fri«iiH nf th« famous Samuel Butler. H^LXSh a1,Snter of less merit; had had the honour Sf pSi Hii Majestv Kmg Charles I., his Quien anf through the varying fortunes of a faahiSnaSfl portrait-pamter, whose position, leaS ^ t does on the fickle approWon of Thrl,nnoil seurs, IS always liable to be wrested from wS W a younger rival ^ ww„.!* ''°*!<^We that this is the first letter in which we have intimation of the world's iroLn about Dorothy's love affairs. We may; JeD not unfairly, trace the growth of DorotEvs a^ Fi^tlJ^l TrP^«.b/the actions STthers. Rrst her brother raises his objections, and th"n her rektions begin to gossip ; meanwhile the letters do not grow less load. ""^'^'"'e ^^^^ n^^^~^^^ ■™*^® ™® "^^ yo" story of Tom Cheeke. I am certain he could not have had it where yon imagine, and 'tis a miracle to me that he remember that there is such a one in the world as his cousin D. O. I am sure he has not seen her this sis year, and I think but once in his life. If he has spread his opinion in that femily, I shall quickly hear on't, for my cousin MoUe u now gone to Kimbolton to my Lord 180 Love Later* from Dorothy Odome ManohMter, and from there he goes to Moor rark to my cousin Franklin's, and in one, or both, he will be sure to meet with it The mat- tor u not great, for I confess I do naturally hate the noMe and talk of the world, and should be best pleased never to be known in't upon any occasion whatsoever; yet, since it can wver be whoUy avoided, one must satisfy oneself by do- ing nothing that one need care who knows. I do not think d prqpoe to teU anybody that yon and I are very good friends, and it were better, sure. If nobody knew it but we ourselves. But If. m spite of aU our caution, it be discovered, tis no treason nor anything else that's ill; and If anybody should tell me that I have had a greater kindness and esteem for yon than for any one besides, I do not think I should deny it • howsoever you do, oblige me by not owning any such thmg, for as you say, I have no reason to rtll .u '* ^°" endeavour to preserve me a hberty, though I'm never likely to make use on't. Besides that, I agree with you too that certainly tis much better you should owe my kindness to Sr^ .Z/"" ?'^ "•^"* '^^ °>y inclination, than that there should lie any other necessity npon me of making good my words to you. For God s sake do not complain so that you do not see me; I believe I do not suffer iL in't than you, but 'tis not to be helped. If I had a ^f« at CMcJctanda 131 picture that were fit for you, you should have it Ihave but one that's anything like, and thart a ^t one. but I wiU send it Sme ^ime or^^eJ to Cooper or Hoskins, and have a little one drawn by it, if I cannot be in town to rit mys^J You undo me by but dreaming how haZTe might have been, when I consider hoTtZZ are from ,t in reality. Ala. I how can yo"tl of drfying fortune; nobody lives without it, ^ l^eT Tt^ '^""^^ y°" '"^"^ y°» could ? L lf°* ^""'^ ""^ '"^*^«' «>'»«' to be so well ;ST^ r/r ^^' ''"* ' ""^ ^''t^i'^ he knows the utmost of the injuries you have received from ^er. Tis not possible she should have used you w^ than he says. We have had ano^rT bate, but much more calmly. 'Twas just upon not fit to part m anger. If ot to wrong hii, he never «ud to me (whate'er he thought) a worj ^eri^^i."' ^°" " y°" °^ pe Jn, and 1 never heard him accuse any but youVfortnne and my indiscretion. And whereas I did expect that 2h \"!,TP""«"* *° '»«) »»« «boE have said we had been a couple of fools well met he says by his t«>th he does not blame you, but bid me not deceive myself to think you have any great passion for me. •' T ^1! ^^A ^"^ ^*"'^ ""'^^ *•>« fi"* part of Gyrus I should be glad Mr. HollingsworVh had 1^2 132 Love Letters fuom Dorothy Otbomt cause I mentioned some such thing in my last to my Lady ; but there is no haste of restoring the other unless she should send to me for it, which I beUeve she will not. I have a third tome here against you have done with that second; and to encourage you, let me assure you that the more you read of them yon will like them still better. Oh, me 1 whilst I think on't, let me ask you one question seriously, and pray resolve me truly ;— do I look so stately as people apprehend ? I vow to you I made nothing on't when Sir Emperor ■aid so, because I had no great opinion of his judgment, but Mr. Freeman makes me mistrust myself extremely, not that I am sorry I did ap- pear so to him (since it kept me from the dis- pleasure of refusing an offer which I do not per- haps deserve), but that it is a scurvy quality in itself, and I am afraid I have it in great measure if I showed any of it to him, for whom I have so much respect and esteem. If it be so you must needs know it; for though my kindness will not let me look so upon you, you can see what I do to other people. And, besides, there was a time when we ourselves were indifferent to one an- other;— did I do so then, or have I learned it since? For God's sake teU me, that I may try to mend it. I could wish, too, that you would lay your commands on me to forbear fruit : here is enough to kiU 1000 such as I am, and so ex- J4fe at Chicktanda 133 tremely good that nothing but your power can Tour. mi^^^''"~P°~*^y''' •'"sertations on love and Wh?X^ p7^' *"""■'"« '"» **>«'' demureness WHO Cousin Peters was we cannot now sav but she WM evidently a relation and a goMia^The enisode concerning Mistress Harri^nTnd the from the autobiography of the Counts? of tC She is writing of Mr. Charles Rich, and savs • the Queen one Mrs. Hareson, that had been af"Srrt*»'i7.l**fr'^*r"-l^^-'>'l«t^eSZ KtwZ h^ ^H** -^^^ "? ^^'^ acquaintance ^, JITtT^ '^^ ^\ ™**'- He cc Jtiiued to be much with us for about five or six monthatm g^5"*''«' B^ghiU then (aft^rw^s &^} Orrery) grew also to be passionately in lovewith the same Mrs. Hareson.*^ My brotL thin hay ing a quarrel with Mr. Thomas HowaX s^ond (^th* w W"hf ^''^'^' .'^*«"* Mrnal^J ^wiin Whom he also was in love), Mr Rich brought my brothor a challenge fr^Si Mr bZ- ard, and was second to him against my brother ShtTo T^'"*'-/^;? '^^^^ witLufany mde Mr 4iT- 'Jf ^' ^'°« P?'"*^- This action made Mr Rich judge it not civil to come to our hoMe and so for some time forbore doing it^ but at last my brother's match with Mrs. fcu-Cn bemg unhandsomely (on her side) brokwT^ 184 Love Zeltert from D. ^^ continued to serve not rS»^'"7;" during his lifetime, but hk wn Richard, after his father's death, with jrraat ^e t.,^"^ ^•'^^r*'"^ ^" activeln fortarS the Restoration m Ireland, and in reward of hw services waa made Earl of Orrery. ^ diS in ®^"'~^°'^ have furnished me now with argu- ments to convince my brother, if he should ever enter on the dispute again. In earnest, I be- lieved aU this before, but 'twas something an Ignorant kmd of faith in me. I was satisfied my- self but could not teU how to persuade another of the truth on't; and to speak indifferently, there are such multitudes that abuse the namS I'ife at CMekiandi 135 lrf,r». 8^t doubt, whether there i^^v mI^Z^:.^ , Z^ *""^ ^ granted, that most people make hiute to be miwrable. tw woodcock runs into a noose, and are carriLbv the weakest considerations imaginabir^do I ^ of the greatest conseqnelTo^anV^: fi^ TT ^ ^°'J^ I ^" toIdT^f ing tempted my oonsin Osborne to marry his and h^ the I««t of sense in it. of any S heard on, oonsidenng that it was no addition t« her person, that he had honoar enough Jo™ for^^rTf i ^ "ytUng in a better.-which for my part I am not weU satisfied in. Be. We «melv ^ Tr't' '' ^"^ -* sound h"d my^" nV^ ^* '^•^' "^^'^^^ '^^ plain my Lady Osborne would do has ,t from my cousin Peters. She lives near 186 Love Letttrt from Dorothy OtborM them in Eaaez, and in all likelihood, for want of other diaoourse to entertain him withal, she haa oome oat with all she knows. The last time I saw her she asked me for yon before she had spoke six words to me ; and I, who of all things do not love to make secrets of trifles, told her I had seen you that day. She said no more, nor I neither ; but perhaps it worked in her little brain. The best on't is, the matter is not great, for though I confess I had rather nobody knew it, yet 'tis that I shall never be ashamed to own. How kindly do I take these civilities of your father's ; in earnest, you cannot imagine how his letter pleased me. I used to respect him merely as he was your father, but I begin now to owe it to himself; all that he says is so kind and so obliging, so natural and so easy, that one may see 'tis perfectly his disposition, and has nothing to disgidse in it. 'Tis long since that I knew how well he writ, perhaps you have forgot that you showed me a letter of his (to a French Marquis, I think, or some such man of his ac- quaintance) when I first knew you ; I remember it very well, and that I thought it as handsome a letter as I had seen ; but I have not skill it seems, for I like yours too. I can pardon all my cousin Franklin's little plots of discovery, if she believed herself when she said she was confident our humours would L\fe at Chicluandi 187 agree extremely weU. In earnest, I think they do ; for I mark that I am always of your opinion, unless it be when you will not aUow that you write weU, for there I am too much concerned. Jane told me t'other day very soberly that we write very much alike. I think she said it with an intent to please me, and did not fail in't; but if you write ill, 'twas no great oompUment to me. A j>ropoi de Jane, she bids me tell you that, if you liked your marmalade of quince, she would send you more, and she thinks better, that has been made since. 'Twas a strange caprice, as you saj, of Mrs. Harrison, but there is fate as well as love in those things. The Queen took the greatest pains to persuade her from it that could be; and (as somebody says, I know not who) "Majesty is no ill orator ; » but aU would not do. When she had nothing to say for herself, she told her she had rather beg with Mr. Howard than live in the greatest plenty that could be with either my Lord BroghiU, Charles Rich, or Mr. Nevile,— for all these were dying for her then. I am afraid she has altered her opinion since 'twas too late, for I do not take Mr. Howard to be a person that can deserve one should neglect all the world for him. And where there is no reason to uphold a passion, it wiU sink of itself; but where there is, it may last eternally. — I am yours. ! I 188 Low lettert from DoroUiy OOome Letter S6. 8iB,-The day I diould have noeiTed your (whom I think I once told you of, and offered my ■emoe in obm yon thought fit to make address^ ttere); and ahe waa bo kind, and in so good humour, that If I had had any commission I riiould have thought it a very fit time to speak. We had a huge dinner, though the oompan>w«, only ^L r? ^"u^ *^* "" " *•"» ^^"^ ^ith her and what I brought; but she is broke loose from aa old miserable husband that lived so long, ■he thmks If she does not make haste she shiS not have tmie to spend what he left. She is old and was never handsome, and yet is courted a thousand tmies more than the greatest beauty in the world would be that had not a fortune. We could not eat in quiet for the letters and presente that came m from people that would not have look^ upon her when they had met her if she i.l.Sr'?! * P""'- ^ •^"^'^ "°* t*"* Wh to myself at the meanness of their humour, and was meny enough aU day, for the company was very good; and besides, I expected to find when I came home a letter from -ou that would be more a feast and company to ^e than all that was there. But never anybody was so defeated as I wastoflndnone. I could not imagine the reason, only I assured myself it wa* no fault of yours, W* otpatience to stay till I could rise, but made her tteup all others I found my dear letter that was flMt to h! reading. I could not but wonder to find in it that my cousin Franklin should want a tr.,- fnend when 'tis thought she Z tTe best S So«ULT''' f --"«'P«-ionateforh^ before he had her, and so pleased with her since tha t, ^ earnest, I did not think it possiJrsS^' T^ii:n *°^*''"? '''' **» ^ for tCIehtd not alrwidy ,n such a husband with such a fo7 Tnot .^"*, '': T ^* *«" ^^«*^- "he ?s happ^ ornot ; only if she be not, I do not see how T. body else can hope it. I know her the leasTof m s I'll! i 140 Love letter, /rom Dorothy Odome that ri,. know, me no more, ,inoe .he .pXS obbgmgly of me. But do yon thmkit SJS J! When I remember ibe ii Tom Oheeke'. .i.fc« t "> apt to think ri,e might h.re h:^Tn1wi «d meant to try whether then. w^^nZ^^Z tmhm't. Mycou.inMoUe.Ithlnk.C«to end the summer there. Thej MyTind^?!.^ ▼ery fine Ma.t hnt ,•♦ t j-j ''^' ""'"^> '" » ThLa. ohSk he JfiH *i°°* '^*»^'' 8« ^™«» ^neejce, he told me there wu never m. C^ol^e^h " *'" '°"~- ^ "" wonderi;; how you came by an acquaintance there, becLe I I ner^liT' ■'"" '^"^ *^* you^eTZn afand husband. Only 'twas found fault with that he could not forbear kisung his wife before we apt to; he has left it long since, I suppose wS rr'^'.'*" " "^ * »^''* as one S ^fcompTy."' *^^ ^"^ ™^''' -«^ to' a Sj*;t''ti:'^f?°''*^«°J«^ithis.heh.s once^r a s^r'r^''"* ''''""'• ^ "''''^ ^m theyshould T^i, u*"^*"^ *° make twenty n/futrttn^iit^'ir^Ttrak*"*^^ ■ tbmk of the fellow that could'^ntnoThtgb";: I^« at Chiok$antU 141 a ilower-de-luoe, who, when he met with one that WM 80 firmly revived to have a lion for hit lini « w n*,^'" """ "° P«"uading him out on't, Well," layi the painter, "let it be a Uon then, but It ihaU be as like a flower-de-luce as e'er you •aw." So, because you would have it a dolphin, he consented to it, but it is like an ill-favoured knot of ribbon. I did not say anything of my father's being ill of late; I think I told you be- fore, he kept bis chamber ever since his last sick- ness, and so he does stiU. Yet I cannot say that he IS at aU sick, but has so general a weakness upon Wm that I am much afraid their opinion of him has too much of truth in it, and do extremely apprehend how the winter may work upon him Will you pardon this strange scribbled letter, and the disorderliness on't? I know you would though I should not teU yon that I am not sd much at leisure as I used to be. Ton can foi^ give your friends anything, and when I am not the faithfuUest of those, never forgive me. Ton may direct your letters how you please, here will be nobody to receive it but Tour. LetUr 27.— Althorp, in Northamptonshire, was SiE,— Tour last came safe, and I shall follow vlt:' 11 143 love LetUrt from Porothy Otborni your direction for the address of this, thonch « ^^rfriendr ^«* '^'^ »ti«fled to' what dei gree our friendship « grown, and thinks he may best inform himself from them. In earnest ZT T- '^."°P^«««''t to hear o-^^^ He forms his with so much art and desi«;ndk •o pleased with the hopes of makin'^lne li^ covery and I [who] kno^in. as weJ « Td^ tTt ht K T^^r.*^^* ^™ "«» destroying aU that hu. busy head had been working on ^ce the krt conference. He gives me soSie L^fe a lat;r r "" \r^ ^"^ -"^ consciencerhet /vf^^ ^"^"' ""^ I «1«J ^ith 80 much fran^hue as to tell him so; andyethehMno so lam know, than a jealous man has to nsV r«n- t at m^ht teU him/whether he Xe^a^ci^' or not, for fear of being resolved of that whfch w yet a doubt to him. My eldest brother fe not so inquisitive; he satisfies himself with ^^u^d mt than that which at present I enjoy But Bure, he gives himself another reason, r^itist,^ I4f* at Ckieiuandt 14J Teiy long sinoe he took occasion to inqnire for Zk?,?<:'"^°''°^' and though I coEh^ pve but httle account of you, he smiJed as if h! did not altogether believe me, and afterwards mabdoualy said he wondered yon did not marry And I seemed to do so too, and said, if I knew any woman that had a great fortune/and were a person worthy of you, I rfiould wish her you wiOiaUmyheart. "But, sister," says he, "would you have hmi love her ?" «Do you doubt it?" did I say; «he were not happy in't else." He toughed, and said my humour was pleasant; but he made some question whether it was natural or not. He cannot be so unjust as to let me lose reason not to take it very weU when he made tw Sr"J ^ """ "^^"^ ^" ''""^ to HO many that did not know him; but we shaU never fall out, I believe, we are not apt to it, neither of ru. U you are come back from Epsom, I may ask ir,.J°T ^?\ ^^ *^""'''°» ^''ter? I have wished It might agree as weU with you as it did with me ; and if it were as certain that the same thing would do us good as 'tis that the same thing would please us, I should not need to doubt It Otherwise my wishes do not signify much, but I am forbid complaints, or to exp^ my fears. And be it so, only you must pardon me if I cannot agree to give you false hopes ; I must ii ! 144 Zove Letttri from Dorothy Osborne bo deceived myself before I can deceive yon, and I have so accustomed myself to teU yon all that I think, that I must either say nothing, or that which I believe to be true. I cannot say but that I have wanted Jane ; but It has been rather to have somebody to talk with of you, than that I needed anybody to put me in mmd of you, and with aU her diligence I should have often prevented her in that discourse. Were you at Althorp when you saw my Lady Sunderland and Mr. Smith, or are they in town ? I have heard, indeed, that they are very happy ; but withal that, as she is a very extraordinary person herself, so she aimed at doing extraordi- nary things, and when she had married Mr Smith (because some people were so bold as to think she did it because she loved him^ she un- dertook to convince the world that what' she had done was in mere pity to his sufferings, and that she could not go a step lower to meet anybody than that led her, though when she thought th»e were no eyes on her, she was more gracious to hmi. But perhaps this might not be true, or It may be she is now grown weary of that con- stmnt she put upon herself. I should have been sadder than you if I had been their neighbour to have seen them so kind; a« I must have been if I had married the Emperor. He used to brag to me always of a great acquaintance he had there^ Life at Chicluands 145 what an esteem my lady had for him, and had Sir" ^ ^°*u *° •*" '* impudent to ta^k ZZT^"" t "i \' ^"'^'^ ^"« "^"^ «>« believe he blushed for him when I saw he did not. He toW me too, that though he had carried his ad- JTl^ °' V"-^ *" *^« P"^'«y that was pos- W ^r\ ' '*'' J "^^ '' '^*' »-«J that twas partly his own humour too, yet she had djsooyewd it, and could teU that there had been such a thing, and that it wsi. broke off airain she Wnotwhy; which certainly wasalijas'well M the other, for I do not think she ever heard there was such a one in the world as Tonr faithful friend. si£^.?®T"°°"thy's aUnsion to the "Seven ffleeners" refers to a story which ocomi, to the St'otnir'* f'M'^' of se^n noSe youuts of J!,phesus, who fled from nenvMnfim. w. a c«ve in Mount Slion. Afte~^IKrSd and arierwards. The fable is said to have arisen from ?n'?ra'5***'°" °' **"« ^ -Thly'^l^'^^ SiB,-I did not lay it as a fault to your ohanre that you were not good at disguise ; if it beoT I Mn too gmlty on't myself to accuse another. And though I have been told it shows an unprac- tisedness m the world, and betrays to all that un- 146 love UfUrt from Dorothy Otlxymt derstond it better, yet since it is a quality I was not bora with, nor ever like to get, I have always thought good to maintain that 'twas better not to need it than to have it. Insh dog, but I am extremely out of countenance ITi* w t^""^** ^ *™""^ ^'"> it- Sure, he wdl think I have a most extravagant fancy ; but do me the right aa to let him know I am not so poMCMed with it as to consent he should be em- ployed m such a commission. Your opinion of my eldest brother is, I think very just, and when I said maliciously, I meant a French malice, which you know does not siir- mfy the same with an English one. I know not ivbetber I told it you or not, but I concluded (from what you said of your indisposition) that it was very like the spleen; but perhaps I fore- saw yon would not be wilUng to own a disease that the severe part of the world holds to be merely imaginary and affected, and therefore proper only to women. However, I cannot but wish you had stayed longer at Epsom and drunk the waters with more order though in a less proportion. Bat did you dnnk them immediately from the weU ? I remember I wsa forbid it, and methonght with a great deal of reason, for (especially at this time of y«ir) the weU is so low, and there is such a multitude to be served out on't, that you can JAfe at Chwhandt 147 hanJly get any but what is thick and troubled: aad I have mark?d that when it stood aU night (for that was my direction) the bottom of the vessel It stood m would be covered an inch thick with a white clay, which, sure, has no great vir- tue m t, and IS not very pleasant to drink ™-T^ "^ character of a young couple you give me ! Would you would ask some one who Imew him, whether he be not much more of an ass since his mamage than he was before. I have some reason to doubt that it alters people strangely. I made a visit t'other day to welcome a lady into this country whom her husband had newly brought down, and because I knew him, though vility I owed them. But you cannot imagine how I was surprised to see a man that I had known so handsome, so capable of being made a pretty gen- tloman {for though he was no proud philosopher, as tne Frenchmen say, he was that which good oomi»ny and a little knowledge of the w^ would have made equal to many that think them- se ves veiy well, and are thought so), transformed into the direct shape of a great boy newly come from school. To see him whoUy taken up with runmng on errands for his wife, and teaching her little dog tncks I And this was the best of him • for when he was at leisure to talk, he would suf ' fer no one else to do it, and what he said, and the 148 Love Letten from Dorothy OAotm noiae he made, if you had heard it, yoa would have concluded him drunk with joy that he had a wife and a pack of hounds. I was so weary on't that I made haste home, and could not but think of the change all the way till my brother (who was with me) thought me sad, and so, to put me in better humour, said he believed I re- pented me I had not this gentleman, now I saw how absolutely his wife governed him. But I assured him, that though I thought it very fit such as he should be governed, yet I should not like the employment by no means. It becomes no woman, and did so ill with this lady that in my opinion it spoiled a good faoe and a very fine gown. Yet the woman you met upon the way governed her husband and did it handsomely. It was, as you say, a great example of friendship, and much for the credit of our sex. Ton are too severe to Walker. Ill undertake he would set me twenty seals for nothing rather than undergo your wrath. I am in no haste for It, and so he does it well we will not faU out; perhaps he is not in the humour of keeping his word at present, and nobody can blame him if he be often in an iU one. But though I am merciful to him, as to one that has suffered enough already, I cannot excuse you that profess to be my friend and yet are content to let me Uve in such igno- rance^ write to me every week, and yet never sen4 ^e at ChicJuandt 149 bettni. fho- ""''^*' ^''d '^hj IS to some extreme wh««, " " 'l"^*® » "«'' language spZ Sr „„ T"' * °"**"" °' '^o^' age But »^;erdrxeri"rr ''"^ "^^ *^^«^ - / «wj uo, wnen I say how much I am TourfaithfaL Zetter 39. whether 'tisXsibleC^ntli T ^^ '^'^ another shoffllvf tZ i^*** ''r'"* ^'^^ thnno.1. T '"®™ above themselvaB ha7»e *^BuTlt,"r "-^ deserve ul;^ --pon-ratiruX".r;-s- "ii 150 Love Letters from Dorothy OAomt kindnen, and that I should give that to youw which all the merit in the world besides would not draw from me. I spake as if I had not done «o already ; but yon may choose whether you wiU believe me or not, for, to say truth, I do not much beUeve myself in that point No, aU the kindness I have or ever had is yours; nor ■hall I ever repent it so, unless you shall ever re- pent yonrs. Without telling you what the in- oonvenienoes of your coming hither are, you may believe they are considerable, or else I should not deny you or myself the happiness of seeing one another; and if you dare trust me where I am equally concerned with yon, I shall take hold of the first opportunity that may either admit you here or bring me nearer you. Sure yon took somebody else for my cousin Peters ? I can never believe her beauty able to smite anybody. I saw her when I was last in town, but she appear'd wholly the same to me, she was at St Malo, with all her innocent good nature too, and asked for you so kindly, that I am sure sLo can- not have forgot you ; nor do I think she had so much address as to do it merely in compliment to me. No, you are mistaken certainly ; what should she do amongst nU that company, unless she be towards a wedding ? She has been kept at home, poor soul, and suffer'd so much of purga- tory in this world that she needs not fear it in W« at ChioktantU ^ wiU bring wrinkfeTtJe' «;*~ori T^ ''"' that n.a, diff^t "Lt.? 'tL IC''?^/ but not ill out, I think. Uy eLest W.^**^ now here, and w« a«.«-* ^ brother la and the^'wT.hJi K^J yoongf^ri-ortly. may perhkn. hi u ^^ ^^ *° Michaelmas I other business that is wS*4 uw "* , *^' "** for I have had another sum^o^S; a^n^I: Wd I protest I am afraid I shall CS ^S 159 Zow Letttr* from Dorothy OOortu there; bat 'tm not to be helped. The widow writee me word, too, that I mnst expect her here about a month hence; and I find that I shaU want no company, but only that which I would have, and for which I could willingly apare aU ^''^'^^\^^^^thu,f Imafaddit wUl. There hai been complaints made on me •imdy to my eldeet brother (only in general, or «t least he takes notice of no more), what ofTen I refiise, and what a strange humour has pos- ■essed me of being deaf to the advice of aU my Mends. I find I am to be baited by them all by turns. They weary themselves, and me too, to very httle purpose, for to my thinking tW talk the most impertinently that ever people did • and I beUeve they are not in my debt, but think the same of me. Sometimes I teU them I wiU not in«ny,and then they kugh at me; some- time* I „y, «Not yet," and they laugh more, auu wou^d make me believe I shaU be oW witldn thas twdvemonth. I teU them I shaU be wiser then. They say 'twill ie to no purpose. Some- tunes we are in earnest and sometimes in jest, but always saying something since my brother Henry found his tongue again. If you were with me I could make sport of aU this; but ^tience IS my penance" is somebodv's motto, and I thmk it must be mine. ' I am your. W* at Chiclumd, 168 Jitter 80. H«,«. • , v Lady Anne Wentworth ia alwayi, and t rliiufe »('*11 fright me from my purpose of seeing yoi i,s a.v>ii aa I can with any oonvenienoy. Iwouu; rot have yon insensible of our misfortunes, hu 1 would not either that you should revenge Ui«m on yourself ; no, that shows a want of constancy (which you wiU hardly yield to be your fault); but 'tis certain that there was never anything more mistaken than the Roman courage, when they kiUed themselves to avoid misfortunes that were infinitely worse than death. Tou confess 'tis an age since our story began, as is not fit for me to own. Is it not likely, then, that if my face had ever been good, it might be altered smce then ; or is it as unfit for me to own the change as the time that makes it ? Be it as you please, I am not enough concerned in't to dispute it with yon ; for, trust me, if you would not have my face better, I am satisfied it should be as it is ; since if ever I wished it otherwise, 'twas for your sake. 156 Love Lettert from Dorothy Oilomt SiM I know not how I stumbled upon a news-book ^ weel, and, for want of some'thing elseT^o I^t 't ♦r°*'*'"" "y ^^ ^«'« embassage with somebodj else too in't tnat may concern anybody that has a mind to man^^tisTnew fom for t. that, sure, will frigKhe^unt^ like going before a Justice; they say no other Ibelieve the o d one is the better; and for m; £ioi::^'^'^*^*'»''^^*^*^*--i^ Can your father have so perfectly forjriven ^y the injuiy I did him gnce yJu Xot ^^^"^ " *« ™'»«°>ber me wiUi'^kind- ^? 'TIS most certain that I am obliged to hm^, and, m earnest, if I could hope it might ever be m my power to serve him I would promLe Bomething for myself. But is it not trJ^Z^ that you have represented me to him rather^' you imagine me than as I am ; and have^ou no^ given him an expectation that I shall never Z aWe to satnrfy ? if you have, I can f or^Je yo^ because I know you meant well in't; b^ I have known some women that have commended othe« enough to envy anybody's beauty, I would oiy lAfe at Ohicktandt 157 yoa aid S« *^^'?''*.'^««" I have to hear from yon, and the satisfaction your lettAr. »,•-« would oblige one that h^L S^ Twri^ often. Bntyet I know what 'tis tote irri,^ ^ i i^ "^"^^ * '*°^" ^^ 5 »»<» though I S^rTvet T »i P*°^ " ""^hody that .^mes iTkS L^eldTe" "tW "r*""* " "*''- though >ouTo no ■eItr^".i-;-°- '*. jn condition ,ou shalJSfltn fr^^ lUn^hatt * ^°" "" •°^'"' *<"*y to a Tour faithful friend. General Monk's brother/ to who! Dorothy ^ %' L ' 168 Love LetUra from Dorothy Osbomt t^iHr "'• ^'•'^^l** Monk, vicar of Kelkhamp. ton, m Cornwall. General Monk's misfortMeiTno less a calamity than his marriaite The fXJ^-?- extract from-^Guizot's Zi^jfrnk wmJ^ii explain the allusion: '"Ae wt^ «f ♦kl ^ admiral [Monk] was mart^ b^a domestic eveni; conduct and reputation. Unrefined tMtoi and Snillv^f °^ "??^ ^ ^« private We which nsnally acoompames activity in pnbUo affai^ had consigned Wm to the dominion of a SS of low character, destitute even of the oCSS which seduce, and whose manners did not bSto marKet stall, or even, according to some a mnnh less respectable profession. S^e h^lived^ fo, Cnc« SW. "^'^ ^"""^ '^^ "°i^ to Se i^- amTift ^t^'* *° impetuosity of wiU and woi^ WW ^ ^ ^"teif by the tranquil apaS^ her lover. It is asserted that she iad mnaied as long since as 1649, to force him to aiSSf: nntU 1663." MTGuizot then quotes a letter dated fS Mn^t.^*'^^*?' """"""ciig tae newsof qSJ ^^r •!u°?u"^'^ »"** ^^^ ^o»W about m" ffil a""*^ ^l presumed date of Dorothy^ hv w;.^T!r'°^ ^'^"^ ^'« P^l'ably o^uK by Monk at this time, and DorSthy m^nt toVy 8iE,-It was, sure, a less fault in me to make a scruple of reading your letter to your brother. lill! ^fe ai Ohicksandt igg Which in aU likelihood I could not be concerned n than for yon to condemn the freedom you take of gjvmg me directions in a thing where we are equaUy concerned. Therefore, 5 I forgive Zn tlf" ^°f ""^ ^'"""^ ''"8*^« ">« t'other ^d upon thew termB we are friends again, ar^ we not? No stay 1 I have another Zl^t^^hM^ you for You doubted whether you had not writ too much and whether I could l^ve the patience abo^bf. " "*'*• "^^ "'' y°" dissemble L abominably; you cannot tWnk these things? How I should love that phiin-heartedness ^n ^ of, a you would use it ; nothing is civU but that amongst friends. Tour kind sister ought to chide you, too, for not writing to her, unlei yon have been with her to excuse it. i hope ^Z vwit from me, and carry my humble service with aTnf wf '"r*"/* '*^ ^'>' "^ ^-»* t^Ty- are no better. I do not think I shall «5e the town before Michaelmas, therefore yormay ^^r^^'^l""^"''^''^- lamti^hertJ expect my brother Peyton, and then possibly we S^Lf"^ *?f *^'""' ^'"' ^ ^^""W bTat home a^m before the term. Then I may show you my niece J and you may confess that I am a kind aunt to desire her company, since the disadvan- tage of our being together will lie whoUy upon me. But I must make it my bargain, that if I 160 Love Lett«r» from Dorothy Ogbome \m come you will not be frighted to see me; you think, I'll warrant, you have courage enough to endure a worse sight. Tou may be deceived, you never saw me in mourning yet; nobody that has will e'er desire to do it again, for their own sakes as well as mine. Oh, 'tis a most dis- mal dress,— I have not dared to look in the glass Binoe I wore it ; and certainly if it did so iU with other people as it does with me, it would never be worn. Ton told me of writing to your father, but you did not say whether you had heard from him, or how he did. May not I ask it? Is it possible that he saw me? Where were my eyes that I did not see him, for I believe I should have guessed at least that 'twas he if I had? They ■ay you are very like him ; but 'tis no wonder neither that I did not see him, for I saw not you when I met you there. 'Tis a place I look upon nobody in; and it was reproached to me by a kinsman, but a little before yon came to me, that he had followed me to half a dozen shops to see when I would take notice of him, and was at last going away with a belief 'twas not I, because I did not seem to know him. Other people make It so much their business to gape, that I'll swear they put me so out of countenance I dare not look up for my life. I am sorry for General Monk's misfortunes, W' at Chiclaandt lej M your last was, I read it o^wl • .'^ ^°°« an hour, thour to ^ 1T tVT, "* ^"^ *^''° on't th^ last time Tm'^^''^PP«'^«°"« I should blush to d«ir** ^'""^ ^°«'' "'<''', Th«rA .^ * ^' y°" ^"o^ how to dispose Ihere are four pretty stories in it « /' ^ I -nforwtL-r--r:?-J^ 162 Zove Letter* from Dorothy Oibome for himself. Perhaps yon will not think it to eMy to decide which is the moat unh^>p7, u yon may think by the titles their stories bear. Only let me desire you not to pity the jealous one, for I remember I could do nottiing but laugh at him as one that sought his own rex ion. This, and the little journeys (you say) you are to make, wiU entertain you till I come ; which, sure, will be as soon as possible I can, since 'tis equally desired by yon and your faithful. Zetter 32.— Things being more settled in that part of the world, Sir John Temple is returning to Ireland, where he intends tiding his seat as Master of the Rolls once again. Temple joins his father soon after this, and stays in freland a few months. Lady Ormond was the wife of the first Duke of Ormond. She had obtained her pass to go over to Ireland on August 24th, 1663. The Or- inonds had indeed been in great straite for want of money, and in August 1662 Lady Ormond had come over from Caen, where they were then liv- ing, to endeavour to claim Cromwell's promise of reserving to her that portion of their estate which had been her inheritance. After great de- lays she obtained £500, and a grant of £2000 per annum out of their Irish lands "lying most conveniently to Dunmore House." It must have been this matter that Dorothy had heard of when she questions « whether she will get it when she comes there." Vfe at Chiektandt IM FiwjoM Annesley, Lord Yalentia. belonired to an snoMt Nottinghamahire familyrSh £ KJ VaW*^" "*"?»«• I <»«» fl"S noK if DubS "* """ ** **"" ^^^ *«"»"y »' Sta^ Sir Justinian has at length found a weond ntL^T-lt'^^ Vere,a;a she is the dauXr sito^n^^K *^ Stoneleigh. Thus do DoroV's suitors, one by one, recover and ceajse to lament «Ve^hir- .^^«" ^t ^^^"^ »hat she w"uW ™^-.?f-^ ^^ J?8t«n'an, she refers to m old ■upewtiUon as to the ultimate fate of spinsters- Women, dying nudds, lead apes in heU, runs the verse of an old play, and that is the whole superstition, the oiLn of ,rhioh Lml somewhat inexplicable. tEo phrase is tS the old burlesques and comedies ; in one instant in a comedy entitled " Love's Convert » lewWt 18 altered to "lead an ape in Aeavm." M^y^m remember the fate of "*The young MaiyTnS' LkS!"^"""" I»goldsby^legSid,^die Bo Ouj nj she is now leading ape*— A«j J. ^ ^ . Blondiejiok, Ana mends badielors' smallolothea below. h.^°J^^^ ^^^' *^** ^ »" acquainted with „^-«„ *^^* •**' '^«^^ *° explanation of this onnous expression. 164 Love Zettert from Dorothy Oibome Sib,— All my quarrels to you are land onei, for, Bore, 'tii alike mpossible for me to be angry M for you to give me the occasion ; therefore, when I chide (unless it be thtt you are not care- ful enough of yourself, and hazard too much a health that I am more ooc.Bmed in than my own), you need not study much 'or excuses, I can Msily forgive you anything I.m want of kind- ness. The judgment you b \"e made of the four lovers I recommended to you does so perfectly agree with what I think of them, that I hope it will not alter when you have read their stories. Z'Amant AhamU has (in my opinion) a mistress so much beyond any of the rest, that to be in danger of losing her is more than to have lost the others; Z'Amant turn Aimi was an ass, under favour (notwithstanding the Princesie CUobuline'e letter) ; his mistress had caprices that would have suited better with our Amant Jalotm than with anybody else ; and the Prince Artibie was much to blame that he outlived his belle LeonUne. But if yon have met with the begin- ning of the story of AmeetrU and Aglatidte, you will find the rest of it in this part I send you now ; and 'tis, to me, one of the prettiest I have read, and the most natural. They say the gen- tleman that writes this romance has a sister that hves with him, a maid, and she furnishes him with all the little stories that come between, so W« at Chicktandt 155 when he wants something to entertain hi. com- ^y withal, he call, to her for it Sho ha. an exoeUent anoy sure, and a great wit ; buU «^ favoured wature that ever was bom. And 'ti. often «,; how seldom do we see a perwn excel- lent m anything but they have someVreat dZt with zt that pulls them low enough to^V^ f?^*?! l^ave fortunes have nothing else, and thow that want it deserve to have it That's but .mall comfort, though, you'll say; 'ti, oonfewed, but there 18 no such thing as perfect happiness in t^ ^o'H those that have come the neai^t t i^.), ^ T*'"°«' ^ ''^' '«d,-bless me, 7;^?Tir"«' Sure, 'tis the death's head 1 see stand before me puts me into this grave di^ oonnie pray do not think I meant that for a con- ceit neither) ; how idly have I spent two sides of ^V paper, and am afraid, besides, I shall not have time to write two more. Therefore PU make haste to tell you that my friendship for you makes me concerned in all your relations ; that I have a great respect for Sir John, merely as he is your father, and that 'tis much increased by his kindness to you ; that he has aU my prayers and wishes for his safety ; and that you will oblige me in letting me kno,y when you hear any go«i 166 Xotw LttUr* from Dorothy OOoms I am told, u waiting for a imtnn, and div«« Snf^/"*^'"^ I"««i>est,ti.an.o.tid t^ ^t a penon of her quality diould be^ dwed to such a fortune «. riie ha. liy«i upon rJ^ S" '":^"«''*' " ^"^ " that which wa. her wLk \^^."' ^'*^"* gninted her; but wh^er she wiU get it when Ae come, th^, ^ 1 think, a question. ^ S.,i nf*?^' *??'.«;"»«ly- She i. one of ^ Lord of Valentia'8 daughter., and ha. married an oW feUow that i, some thr««ore andSJ wJo h« a houje that i, fitter for the hog, than for tne least of these moonvenienoes. Ah I 'tis^ost certain I should have chosen a handsome Zn tolewl myapes in before such a husband ; but ?«Wr and hanging go by destiny, they say It was not mine, it seems, to have an emirof • ^ff 1"^ merely to vex me, h«. goiT^d married my countrywoman, my Lord Lee's daughter. What a multitude of .^1^^^ I ^aU weave before I die; I think l£dC mk^ them into faggots thia cold weath^.^J 'Wfl Ltf« at CAichandt 147 flame they would make in a chimney would be of ri^ r *°r *^" **^* ^^^^^ ^-i" t»>e heart, of aU tho«, that gave them me, and wonld hut a. long I did not think I .honid have got thn. SI: J Tf?v °.~ Ponwoated with vidu aU 2L ^K • ''"'' had no time to despatch any- thing of bonnees, so that now I have done this I have forty letters more to write; how much rather would I have them aU to you than to any- body else; or, rather, how much better wonld it be If there needed none to you, and that I could teU you without writing how much I am Toun. i^ 88.— Sir Thomas Peyton, we must r.^ member, had married Dorott/^'eldesTlSti?^ riie died many years ago, and iSir Th^ iSTr-' ned again m 1648, one Dame Cicely Swm a T !!.' Z^""^ character Dorothy giVef us ' of ^!lf?lK °"*5 ""^ *h« «W««t «>n of the Eari of Monmouth, and was born in 1696 He wm h^ri^'wri^S c» ^"'rMa^r ^^nder» and a Hi»tory of feuL. *" han^-T ° Suckling, in the foUowing doffirerel S.,!!!' °°*''* autWwith a flunkfy'sfffi MiaOCOFY KESOIUTION TBI CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) A /APPLIED IN/HGE In Sr*- '6^3 East Main Street I^a Rochester. New York 14609 USA '■i^S (716) 482 - OJOO - Phone ^= (716) 288 - 5989 - ¥m 168 Low letters from Bm-othy Oshorm It is ao rare and new a thine to ««< To arts or to new worlds. In such Strain writes the author of Wh„ .^ SeTo thetobly ^ ^'""^'^ "^ -"^ -*-t- not flnd.that he ever publishS one.'^ ' ""^ "*"■ tra^:i:^rfTor?hf g:Lr\r/- — - mS V* ''f '''"''' ™"« a« follows -" Twf dL- .ghtful Novels, or the Unlucky Fair One- teint the Amours of Milistmte an/prazimen; \\\I Life at Uhickaands jgg l^ited1vit °" S^ '^t of Devon, and well's death/ KthBR^.^^"" "?«'V"1 Crom- Lonl Chamberkin of th^ w ™*'e'' ^« ^a« ""ide Privy Seal. He DubLh«H ^°°««hold, and Lord none of which afenotin'^^^P^"''''*' ^^''ts, thatDo.th/hat'^irft„n,!^eS| otheS^IvSi'- "°* '^' apprehension that think tht d d/ald'so Ion?" ^' ' ^'°'^'' °°* brother pLf^„ ^ • , «^ y°" ^^ safe. My Mv sister w,. , , ^"^ °°«s could be. Sdt thl "'"''^"<=''°'3^' "^tired woman, and, ^ides the company of her husband and her books, never sought any, but could have spent , 170 love letters from Dm-othy Otbome life much longer than here was in looking to her house and her children. This lady is of a free, jolly humour, loves cards and company, and is never more pleased than when she sees a great inany others that are so too. Now, with both these he so perfectly complied that 'tis hard to judge which humour he is more inoUn' 1 to in himself; perhaps to neither, which makes it so much the more sti •> His kindness to his first wife may give hiiL an esteem for her sister; but he was too much smitten with this lady to think of marrying anybody else, and, seriously, I could not blame him, for she had, and has yet, great loveliness in her; she was very handsome, and is very good (one may read it in her face at first Bight). A woman that is hugely civil to all peo- ple, and takes as generally as anybody that I know, but not more than my cousin MoUe's let- ters do, but which, yet, you do not like, you say, nor I neither, I'll swear; and if it be ignorance m us both we'll forgive it one another. In my opinion these great scholars are not the best writers (of letters, I mean) ; of books, perhaps they are. I never had, I think, but one letter from Sir Justinian, but 'twas worth twenty of anybody's else to make me sport. It was the most sublime nonsense that in my life I ever read; and yet, I believe, he descended as low as he could to come near my weak understanding. Life at ChicJcmnda 171 •TwiU be ro compliment after this to say I like ' your letters in themselves; not as they come from one that is not indifferent to me, but. seri- ously, I do. All letters, methinks, should bi. free and easy as one's discourse; not studied as an oration, nor made up of hard words like a charm Tis an admirable thing to see how some people wiU labour to find out terms that may obs^rJa plain sense. Like a gentleman , ^hJ would never say "the weather gre . cold," but that winter began to salute us." I have no pa- tience for such coxcombs, and cannot blame an old uncle of mine that threw the standish at his mans head because he writ a letter for him where, instead of saying (as his master bid him), that he would have writ himself, but he had the gout in his hand," he said, " that the gout in his hand would not permit him to put pen to mightily, and that putting pen to paper was much better than plain writing ^^ I have no patience neither for these transla- taons of romances. I met with Polea>a^der and t2T-" .T'" '^''^ ^ '^'^"'««'^ that I, who am their old acquaintance, hardly know them: bes^es that, they were still so much French in words and phrases that 'twas impossible for one that understands not French to make anything of them. If poor Prazhnene be in the same 172 I^we LetUrt/rom Dorothy Oshome dress, I woald not see her for the world. She ha suffered enough besides. I never saw but th«t w?? "^ ^"'■' ""'^ ""^ *«1*» ^^^ gentleman that writ her story died when those werVflnished I waa very sorry for it, I remember, for I liked so far as I had seen of it extremely. Is it not Z!^ ''"' ^' ^°"'°°"^''' - --e «-hVon* ourable personage, that presents her to the Eng- hsh ladies? I have heard many people woSr how he spends his estate. I belieVe he undoes himsel with printing his translations. NoCy else wiU undergo the charge, because they ZL withal I wa* looking t'other day in a book of ills where he translates Pipero as piper, and twenty words more tk.t are as false as this wo^h ^ ^'°,^^^' '"'"• ""'" «^^« "« something worth he reading. My Lori Saye, I am told! T,t 7 T* T*""^ '^'^ ^^ retirement in the Isle of Lundy, and Mr. Waller, they say is makii^ one of our wars, which, if he W'no" Ztt 1- ^"^^ '^^ °' Pl«^'°« fiction, can- Bnt aU this 18 nothing to my coming to town you'll say 'Tis confest ; and th^ I was willS Thrn"^ ?J *'"'^' *** '^""'^ saying anything 2 stm Iv^ '"^ '^y ^'"^*» yonr knowing^ I am still obliged to wait my brother Peyton and hS lady coming. I bad a letter from hi^ this week Life at Chlckmnda 173 which I will send you, that you may see what hopes he gives. As little room as I have left, too, I must tell you what a present I had made me to-day. Two of the finest young Irish grey- houuds that e'er I saw; a gentleman that serves the General sent them me. They are lewly come over, and sent for by Henry Cromwell, he tells me, but not how he got them for me. How- ever, I am glad I have them, and much the more because it dispenses with a very unfit employ- ment that your father, out of his kindness to you and his civUity to me, was content to take upon mm. "^ Letter 34. SiE,— Jane was so unlucky as to come out of town before your return, but she teUs me she left my letter with Nan Stacy for yon. I was in hope she would have brought me one from you ; and because she did not I was resolv'd to Tjunish her, and kept her up till one o'clock tolling me all her stories. Sure, if there be any truth in the old observation, your cheeks glowed notably and 'tis most certain that if I were with you I should chide notably. What do you mean to 'be so melancholy? By her report your humour is grown insupportable. I can allow it not to be altogether what she says, and yet it may be very ill too; but if you loved me you would not give 174 love Ze*ter» from Dorothy Odomt yourself over to that which will infallibly kill you, if it continue. I know too well that our fortunes have given us occasion enough to com- plain and to be weary of her tyranny ; but, alas ! would it be better if I had lost you or you me ; unless we were sure to die both together, 'twould but increase oar misery, and add to that which is more already than we can well tell how to bear. You are more cruel than she regarding a life that's dearer to me than that of the whole world besides, and which makes aU the happiness I have or ever shall be capable of. Therefore, by all our friendship I conjure you and, by the power you have given me, command yon, to pre- serve yourself with the same care that you would have me live. 'Tis all the obedience I require of you, and will be the greatest testimony you can give me of your faith. When you have promised me this, 'tis not impossible that I may promise yon shall see me shortly; though my brother Peyton (who says he will come down to fetch his daughter) hinders me from making the jour- ney in compliment to her. Yet I shaU perhaps find business enough to carry me up to town. 'Tis all the service I expect from two girls whose friends have given me leave to provide for, that some order I must take for the disposal of them may serve for my pretence to see you ; but then I must find you pleased and in good humour, Life at Chicksands 175 taerry as you were Tvont to be when we first Sin.r T '"'' """'' -« show thaTi I' But f hi" ° "^ •"*"«•" 0''»^'-''«'« lady. But what an age 'tis since we firat met and us VrAtr •' '---ght int'tb^f us , If there had been as great a one in my fa^e For Gods sake, when we meet, let us desL one day to remember old stories in, to ask o^e an times S ? ?• '" ^''™^^*' ^ amlflln,^ times with thinking on't; and though I can never repent the sha.^ you La.e in my heart? got'an inti Te^ ^^Stii/e tf^ Z, r '^ '* *" ''•^^^ with you, and that Eh'Tmy z:: t rf ^ witj k^owt?:: nilrT / °* receiving one from you last night kept me writing this when T J,..^ ^ime; or if all this wifl no^ siti f;, mit Znr own conditions, so you do not JCfje^ 17fi Love Letters from Dorothy O»home the shortness of joun. Your serrant kisses your hands, and I am Your faithful. Letter 35. — This is written on the back of a letter of Sir Thomas Peyton to Dorothy, and is probably a postscript to Letter 34. Sir Thomas's tetter is' a good example of the stilted letter- writ- ing in Togue at that time, which Dorothy tells us was so much admired. The affairs that are troubling him are legal matters in connection with his brother-in-law Henry Oxenden's estate. There is a multitude of letters in the MSS. in the British Museum referring to this business; but we are not greatly concerned with Oxenden's financial difficulties. Sir Edward Hales was a gentleman of noble family in Kent. There is one of the same name who in 1688 declares himself openly to be a Papist, and is tried under the Test Act. He is concerned in the same year in the escape of King James, providing him with a fishing-boat to carry him into France. This is in all probability the Sir Edward Hales referred to by Sir Thomas Peyton, unless it be a son of the same name. Here is the letter : — " Good Sisteb, — I am very sorry to hear the loss of our good brother, whose short time gives us a sad example of our frail condition. But I will not say the loss, knowing whom I write to, whose religion and wisdom is a present stay to support in all worldly accidents. " 'Tis long since we resolved to have given ^'/o at Chichands j^y you a visit, anH i tve p«iio»»j tor- But i hav. h^dlefo.r-"''"^ •^•'"«'«- laborious affair whfch r'^,.'^""''^"'^ of a most i«g, though in our o^f ""'^ ">« '"« '"^vel- eUewhere ever dn^ i "J**"/' ^"""^ than '^Wch hath vextTe the! .''^'" ^"'J""; be^'"« Wever. must all i^Zl^T.C'T'^'^'''''' with such a Durse-nr«n7 f . *' ^"''e to do Edward nZ Set: ^'yT^""^ «•' mas week, weshall I'J,* JJ^I^^.f *''"^^^- hope. to consider my owrcontl * "* ^^'^^' ^ meantime I know not wLT *""""*'• ^" »»>« the trouble I havl put vot t„ r"*? *" ""'''« ^°>- Srow to be ashamS C.*T r'^J^'^'whichl be so if I did not knt; ^ou tot"'' """^ '°°" a" fair. In both ZlCrl^'^ ^^"^ '^ ^^^ honour to be esteemed, ^ ^ -^"^^ * ««»* «T„ , "^■>' good sister, Your faithful brother and servant 178 Love LttUrsfram Dorothy Othome am not willing to excite your envy, I would t«Il you how many letters I have J^^.^£^,^\ -pliments.which'la.'-^rVot'';-^^ I had forgot in my other to tell you what T«n« and Zfti ♦ ^^"""""^P^iiwehertobemerry, ^urt for th K^'J ^'^^'^ y°" '''^ *t 'he ten^k court, for there she hears you are found wit, I have sent you some of his verses \r^ ST^ »•>- against me one Jr^n a ?i pute where he would needs make me Inf^ tSat I C fat ^K ""'^ P""''^ "^^ * «"!«.«« ox my i^rd Biron to his wife, which was so Door self ST* ''f, ' ^"^ e'en ashamed o^tC self, and he quickly laughed me out of couSe L^e at Chichia.KU 179 earnest, and by a jjerson of quality, as I was told. If you read it when you go to bed, 'twiU cer- tainly make your sleep approved. I am yours. says, an extraordinary person." She was thi Srlfnf and a? tr ^'4' .^"1 of Nrhum' fatK' Im -n T °^ ^'Shteen, against her cnm!t?n.^ • "."r^"" 80™ewhat romantic cir- cumstances, married James Hay, Earl of Carlisle Her sister marrie.1 the Earl of Leicester, and £ n„n S^^°™ ''"'^cV'^ ^y Punderland and AW non Sydney. She was avourite attendant of Queen Henrietta, and thi.o are evil rumouw (x,n- necting her name with that of StrXrd ^n f^l^^'f" i'"'^' '* '« "^'^^^ that she ti-aS ferred her affections to Pym, to whom ; e is said to have betmyed the secrets if the Con ThlJe seems httledoubt that h was.she who gave noS seize th« fi v! K« ' *'T'"« ^° '''* House to seize the five members. In 1648 she ann«i« moZT "fy,^""' '^^'''^ the RoSisTOrt; Fn^l?„H ' *5° P"!"P°?f ''^ '*'"°« a fleet to attack at & «nH ** "•," R«ii°'^tion she was rece^ at Court, and employed herself in intriguine for the return of Queen Henrietta to Englafd which sZ^l^^f:^ the time by Clarendon and oS tion, she died suddenly. Poets of all trades from Waller downwards, have sung of her Sv' oJ T«l^' ^ "l '"? K"''^ ^'^ Toby llatthew sS of fnendship, and having too great a heart to be 180 Love Letter, from Lirroihy Oibomt fair Lady ButC^e '" „f ""' t" ^''^ ^^^^^ o' seems to have lWam«n7>f -"^ Yelverton ments and seS W™ W '^"°' **^"P"«1'- twenty years of a^«n5^" k ?®..'^'" »^*^« t™« of learninl.S^^^exS'? ^^^'al branches of ace and t^t 7\ I *"*® '"^'» a^^er cominj? Dr. Thomw mS ,?*""«*«'». one of whom, Wo ai Chicksanda igj SiB,_Why are you so suUen, and whv am T the cause ? Can you believe that I do tiUW J defer my journey ? I know you do not Wh/ ^en should my absence now be less supporrbL' aJlfninl^ 'P '*^' ''''** ^ "*"*" »"«* through fha ST'"""" ™*'^«'- **""> 'J«°y you anytW that lies in my power to grant. But by Zf oblige ?ou tT; i' *'"*, "^ ' ^''^^ ^^'J «»'"'ot """ge you to a care of vonrsAlft> tpi,-* P^ant distinction you ZT^Z ^u ay' that 't« not melancholy makes you drthZ things, but a careless forgetfulnes. nw . anybody forget themselveft taTd^ IZ was not melancholy in extremity ? STc^' thiLil i *""* '"'°'^° y°" ^J-en of all the taff for a . "*"' ' ^''" ""•^'^ "»* '•''-« been Mrflw f *T"*'"' ' y"'" ^«'«' «« I thought, ^rfectly pleased with your condition; what!.al' made it so much wowe since ? I know nothing 183 r Love Letters from Dorothy Osborne Kr^JT. *' ^^ "^ '""^ y°" "^^^^ gained a fr end that is capable of the highest degree of fnendship you can propound, that has Sd ' g.ven an entire heart for that whichsherS^ enough to satisfy ,o,teU^:e'irird: There are a great many ingredients must bo to the makxng me happy in a husband. Firsti^ »g that I have had, and used that kind of com- pany. That IS, he must not be so much a country gentleman a* to understand nothing but hS and dog^ and be fonder of either th^an TiSe^ nor of the next sort of them whose aim reachL no further than to be Justice of the P^^ ^,1 but statutes, and studies nothing but how to maie a speech interlarded with Latin tha! mav tTerrtrh'^"^'"«P^'"«^^^'--'-<'S them rather than persuade them into quietnL a frZ T •" * '""''^ '''^' ^«g*» the'wo IdTn a free school, was sent from thence to the univer inns of Court, has no acquaintance but those of tl «-T i'' '^''' P""*'^^' «P«»ks the French he ha. picked out of old laws, and admires nothing L\fe at CMcksatida 133 ^ a .w. gaUant nJl^M^^" J^tS and an oi-dinary, that cannot imagine hor IT hour should be spent without ooJSny^l.^S. jia^r;x."rai-s^^^^^^^ r::.^rnr4rsiranrd:^^^^^^^^ course enough to wear slashes whenX on^ ebe dies with cold to see him. He musTH a f«,l of no sort, nor peevish, nor ill-natured/noJ E z hr°T', '""^ **» '^ *^ --^^ "«aea, mat he must love me and T h,-», » T as we are capable of Wg Witht^^ ^S descriZn^r '' '''^r "d «« PartSular in my P^rl -iuT ?h«7 "'"r ^°"^ ^ •'^ *»» °f Moor w^Sd sen"d t you'-nX*'' '''^ " ^«" ' dr \^^"«ttrr,rdinron.f you and you may safely believe that I am equally concerned with you in anything. I should be pleaded to see something of my Lady CaS^ 184 Love Letter, from Dorothy Oshome company, and tha/y^u ieeS 2^?' t '"" not teU whether -/be very See J^ ' ^'^} """■ 'tis the best I eve/had d^'"r'"°*'**'°"«l' ^7 [Lew wm hL jVarh^ntr r;' "^^ i«"i Pag,.,,* :f L,S' s;, t'i*; ""' maT tl r r y"-"- Wend Mr. Heningham.you ter in his sS if h„ T'^ He m,ght have sped bet- this seJnlZs 1h ». ^^ ^"^ ^"^ '"y ^«« mast J m?sr%"j::r«' p'^*^""^ *^«- .ntthatsheVUyX7-aP We at Chichamida jgS death LlTf h«? ^^ '"^ **'*'«' *»-«ther'8 he h^To" i knoTr'"'''' himself with what be very hap' LtT 'TT'^^ ^" '"^gh* "o* sure, she c^J ^1^0' w/tr ^''^ ^'^*' any that she had, but «^ W " ^' ^' ^ \"T "''^ I am yours, 186 Love Letters from, DwotKy Otbome Letter 37. 8iK>— You say I abuse jou; and Jane says you abuse me when you say you are not melan- choly: which is to be believed? Neither, I think ; for I could not have said so positively (as it seems she did) that I should not be in town till my brother came back : he was not gone when she writ, nor is not yet; and if my brother Peyton had come before his going, I had spoiled her prediction. But now it cannot be ; he goes on Monday or Tuesday at farthest. I hope you did truly with me, too, in saying that you are not melancholy (though she does not beUeve it). I am thought so, many times, when I am not at all guilty on't. How often do I sit in company a whole day, and when they are gone am not able to give an account of sis words that was said, and many times could be so much better pleased with the entertainment my own thoughts give me, that 'tis all I can do to be so civil as not to let them see they trouble me. This may be your disease. However, remember you have promised me to be careful of yourself, and that if I secure what you have entrusted me with, you will answer for the rest. Be this our bargain then; and look that you give me as good an account of one as I shall give you of t'other. In earnest, I was strangely vexed to se ) myself forced to disap- point you so, and felt your trouble and my own L^e at Chtchtanda lg7 too. How often I have wished myself with you, though but for a day, for an hour : I would have given aU the time I am to spend here for it with all my heart. You could not but have laughed if you had seen me last night. My brother and Mr. Gibson were talking by the fire ; and I sat by, but as no part of the company. Amongst other things (which I did not at all mind), they fell into a discourse of flying ; and both agreed it was very possible to find out a way that people might fly like birds, and despatch their journeys : so I, that had not said a word all night, started up at that, and desired they would say a little more on't, for I had not marked the beginning ; but instead of that, they both fell into so violent a laughing, that I should appear so much concerned in such an art ; but they little knew of what use it might have been to me. Yet I saw you last night, but twas in a dream ; and before I could say a word to you, or you to me, the disorder my joy to see you had put me into awakened me. Just now I was interrupted, too, and called away to enter- tain two dumb gentlemen ;-you may imagine whether I was pleased to leave my writing to you for their company ;— they have made such a tedious visit, too ; and I am so tired with making of signs and tokens for everything I had to say Good God ! how do those that live with them al- 188 Love ZetUrt from Dorothy Otbome ways? They are brothers; and the eldest iia baronet, has a good estate, a wife aod three or loiu chUdren. He was my servant heretofore, and comes to see me stUl for old love's sake ; but if he could have made me mistress of the world I could not have had him ; and yet I'U swear he has nothing to be disliked in him bat his want of tongue, which in a woman might have been a virtue. I sent you a part qf Oj^rw, last week, where you will meet with one Doralise in the story of Abradah and Panthfee. The whole story is very good ; but the humour makes the best part of it. I am of her opinion in most things that she says m her character of « L'honneat homme " that she IS in search jf, and her resolution of receiving no heart that had been offered to anybody else. Pray, tell me how you like her, and what fault you find in my Lady Carlisle's letter ? Methinkg the hand and the style both show her a great person, and 'tis writ in the way that's now affected by aU that pretend to wit and good breeding; only, I am a little scandalized to con- fess that she uses that word faithful,— she that never knew how to be so in her life. I have sent you my picture because you wished for It ; but, pray, let it not presume to disturb my Lady Sunderland's. Put it in some comer where no eyes may find it out but yours, to whom it is ii « I^fe at ChicJuand* 189 only intended. 'Tig not a very good one, but the best I shaU ever have drawn of me; for, aa my Lady says, my time for pictures is past, and therefore I have always refused to part with this, because I was sure the next would be a worse. There is a beauty in youth that every one has once in their Uves ; and I remember my mother nsed to say there was never anybody (that was not deform 3d) but were handsome, to some reasonable degree, once between fourteen and twenty. It must hang with the light on the left hand of it ; and you may keep it if you please till I bring you the original. But then I must bor- row it (for 'tis no more mine, if you like it), be- cause my brother is often bringing people into my closet where it hangs, to show them other pictures that are there ; and if he miss this long thence, 'twould trouble his jealous head. You are not the first that has told me I knew better what quality I would not have in a hus- band than what I would ; but it was more pardon- able in them. I thought you had understood better what kind of person I Uked than any- body else could possibly have done, and therefore did not think it necessary to make you that description too. Those that I reckoned up were only such as I could not be persuaded to have upon no terms, though I had never seen such a person in my Ufe as Mr. Temple: not but that i..l 1 90 Love LetUr» from Dorothy OOome •11 those may make very good husbands to some women; but they are so different from my .humour that 'tis not possible we should ever agree ; for though it might be reaaonably enough expected that I should conform mine to theirs (to my shame be it spoken), I could never do it. And I have lived so long in the world, and so much at my own liberty, that whosoever has me must be content to take me as they find me, without hope of ever making me other than I am. I cannot so much as disguise my humour. When It was designed that I should have had Sir Jus., my brother used to teU he was confident that, with aU Ws wisdom, any woman that had wit and discretion might make an ass of him, and govern him as she pleased. I could not deny that possibly it might be so, but 'twas that I was sure I could never do; and though 'tis likely I should have forced myself to so much compliance as was necessary for a reasonable wife, yet farther than that no design could ever have carried me; and I could not have flattered him into a belief that I admired him, to gain more than he and all his generation are worth. 'Tis such an ease (as you say) not to be solici- tous to please others: in earnest, I am no more concerned whether people think me handsome or Ill-favoured, whether they think I have wit or that 1 have none, than I am whether they think I W« <*t Chieluandt 191 my name Elizabeth or Dorothy. I would do nobody no injury; but I should never deei^i to pleaM above one; and t .,t one I must love to«, «Ln^ 'Jf •*• "^"'^ ■' * *™"»'1«' »"d con,*: quently not do it. I have made a general con- Jewion to you; will you give me absolution? Methink. you should; for you are not much better by your own relation ; therefore 'tis easiest to forgive one another. When you hear any- thmg from your father, remember that I am h« Si ^^'^^ *"•* °"«* oonoemed in his good I am yours. Tt.^h^JjT^7 I»beU« i« lady Isabella Eioh my Lady Dfana's eldest sister. ^ ShTmar^ ned Sir James Thynne. Many years airo Z, itr T'T^ '''^^ *''« Buke^o^^m^d, t? whom ahe had a son, but Dorothy si^w ? thmk, of some kter scaiidal thanXf ^^ Jlly Lady Pembroke was the daughter of th« K 1 ??"?*' *°^ afterwards the Earl of Pem broke. She is described as a woman whJw S wasendowed by nature with very extra^i^^y SoS- 1^^ ^-f^^oU, on ithe oKani ScaLi^ Clarendon, pretended to no othe^ 3o« ™Jf ,,*•"*". ^ "nderetand horses and generous. His stables vied with palaces and fiw falconry was furnished at immen^JH^^ *J^ ; but m his private Me he was characterii«i by 109 2o»« Letttr$ from Dorothy OAotm gro* ignoranco and vice, and hit pnblio obarao- ter wu marked br inffpatitnde and insUbility. The We of Lady Vembroke wa» embittered by thM man for near twenty years, and ihe was at len^ oompeUed to separate from him. She r u ^°^^ ".°*^ ^*' husband's death, which took plaoe m January 1660. One can understand that they were entirely ansnited to each other, when Lady Pembroke in her Memorials is foun^ to write thus of her hnsband: "He was no scholar, having passed but three or four months ?lk ^*"!?' ^'^.^^n.J'e was taken thence after his S.;!. •'J**^- ^^ """ **' 1"*'''' apprehension, •harp nnderstandmg, very crafty withal; of a discerning spirit, but a choleric nature, increased bjr the office he held of Chamberlain to the T^°*'^..» '*^' ***®°> *^'^ *•*« accomplished Lady Anne Clifford unite herself to so worthless a per- son? Does she not answer this question for us when she writes that he was " the greatest noble- man m England " ? It is of some interest to ns to remember that trancis Osborne, Dorothy's uncle (her father's youngest brother), was Master of the Horse to tbMgreat nobleman. Whether Lord and Lady Leicester were, as Dorothy says, "in great disorder" at this time. It 18 impossible to say. Lady Leicester is said to have been of a warm and irritable temper, and Lord Leicester is described by Clarendon as staggering and irresolute in his nature." How- f^®""' nothing w said of their quarrels; but, on the other hand, there is a very pathetic account in Lord Leicester's journal of his wife's death in ^ff at Chicluand* 193 Sib,— Ton would have me lav aomethinD. «* thing to wj, but I know no more than you mw m that letter I «,nt you. How wUliSgif 3d you; but I confess I do not like to give SnT ?nd l"*^ T™! ' '^^ -°* careto reSiveZm And I thought there wa* no need of «iyin7i would be .ure to take the first occasion. a"d^£it I waited with impatience for it, becaus; I howd 70U had believed aU that already; Td so^ do I am sure. Say what you W^U, you Lnot Sh^vlr "^r '°*'"«^ ^ •- aisJ^That I wish myself with you, for my own sake as w«ll " yours. 'Tis mther that yon loveTh«7 «y it ^ten, than that you do^^bt t^fS \Z. Z djssembler. I could not cry for a hulnSra; wore indilferent to me (Uke your cousin) • no nor t„* ^-»«°d t^at I lovid neithe ^iXk tw^uld break my heart sooner than mako^me weep. In earnest, you cannot imagine how often Jnmy humour, and that 'twas a point of go^ breeding to disguise handsomely ; but I answeS 1 W Love Lettert from Dorothy Oahome Sm 'L"^''"' ?"''' '^""^ °°* to ^ ^^P^cted I Court since I was capable of anything. Yet I taie It very lU if you should not let her get the pomt of honour; 'tis aU she aims at, to^ £ yond everybody in compliment. But arf yo^ no afraid of giving me a strong vanity w^!h teUing me I write better than the most^extS ordinary person in the world ? If l had not the J«.«e to miderst^d that the reason w^A Wnd«7.J ^" ^""' ^ ""^y ^"«« they are Jinder^thanhers,such a word might have' un. But my Lady Isabella, that speaks, and looks, and s ngs, and plays, and all so prettily whv «»nnot I say that she is f ree from'^faul7;,ter ««ter belxem her ? No ; I am afraid she is not known My bother did not bring them for an tSh^lI t ^Tr"^"^ * ^^^ t'''^'^ "-^^ b«a«t 2 r^v. ? ™'' " '*'•*"«« J'^*'^ that have auch husbands as makes them think they cannot be more undone, whatever course they take. Jl .? *^'' **'""«*'^d pities! I remember she was the firs woman that ever I took notice of for extremely handsome; and, in earnest, she lAfe at Chicksanda 195 was then the loveliest lady that could be looked ^^'Jp^W r^^'^^o^-WshedowiSSuS now ? Were I as she, I should hide myself from all the world; I should think aU pJo'^th^ ooked on me read it in my fa«e and despised mo m their hearts ; and at the same time they m«Se me a leg, or spoke civilly to me, I should believe they did not think I deserved their respect rU tell you who he urged for an examplVthough, 2 Lord Pembroke and my Lady, who, tW W r. r" ''"'"^ '^'^' '^ ^^ P««i°'' for aU h« friends; but to that I answered, that though he pretended great kindness he hid f" her, I never hear' of much she had for him, and knew she mamed him merely for advantage. Nor IS she a woman of that discretion as to do al that might become her, when she must dol? Sir. '°^ ^^ *" *" *'°'^« ""^ " things iie mclmed to. Besides that, what with a sSeen "dyi^''-'^-'^^''^^'^^^^--^^ But is it possible what they say, that mv Lord Leicester and my Lady are in^rSt di«,rZ, iS that after forty years' patience he ha. now tkken np the cudgels and resolved to venture for the mastery ? Methinks he wakes out of his ong fights with all that comes near it. They say he 106 Low Letters from Dorothy Otborw has turned away almost avery servant in the house, and left her at Penshurst to digest it as she can. " What an age do we live in, where 'tis a miracle If m ten couples that are married, two of them live so as not to publish to the world that they cannot agree I begin to be of your opinion of him that (when the Roman Church first pro- pounded whether it were not convenient for pnests not to many) said that it might be con- venient enough, but sure it was not our Saviour's mtention, for He commanded that aU should taie up their crws and follow Him ; and for his part, he was confident there was no such cross Zl wife This IS an ill doctrine for me to preach : but to my friends I cannot but confess that I am afraid much of the fault lies in us; for I have observed that formerly, in great families, the men seldom disagree, but the women are always scold- ing; and 'tis most certain, that let the husband be what he will, if the wife have but patience (which, sure, becomes her best), the disorder can- not be great enough to make a noise ; his anirer alone, when it meets with nothinif that resists it. cannot be loud enough to disturb tbe neighbours And such a wife may be said to do as a kins- woman of ours that had a husband who was not always hmiself ; and when he was otherwise, his humour was to rise in the night, and with two Life at ChicksancU 197 bedstaves labour on the table an hour together She took care every night to lay a great cushion upon the table for him to strike on, that nobody might hear him, and so discover his madness But 'tis a sad thing when all one's happiness is only that ti. i world does not know you are mis- erable. For my part, I think it were very convenient that all such as intend to marry should live to- gether in the same house some years of proba- tion; and if, in aU that time, they never dis- agreed, they should then be permitted to marry If they please ; but how few would do it then! I do not remember that I ever saw or heard of any couple that were bred up so together (as many you know are, that are deF^l^ed for one another from children), but they aiways disliked one another extremely ; parted, if it were left in their choice. If people proceeded with this cau- tion, the world would end sooner than is ex- pected, I beUeve; and because, with aU my warmess, 'tis not impossible but I may be caught nor likely that I should be wiser than anybody else, 'twere best, I think, that I said no more on this point. What would I give to know that sister of yours that is so good at discovering; sure she is excellent company; she has reason to laugh at you when you woujd have persuaded her th^ 198 Love Letters from Dorothy Otbome moss was sweet." I remember Jane brought some of It to me, to ask me if I thought it had no lU smeU, and whether she might venture to put It in the box or not. I told her as I thought, she could not put a more innocent thing tWe. for I did not find it had any smell at aU; besides I was wiUing it should do me some service in re^ qmtal for the pains I had taken for it. My niece and I wandered through some eight hundred a^res of wood in search of it. to make rocks and strange things that her head is full of, and she admires it more than you did. If she had known I had consented it should have been used to fill up a box, she would have condemned me ex- tremely. I told Jane that you liked her present, and she, I find, is resolved to spoil your compU- ment, and make you confess at last that they are not worth the eating; she threatens to send you more, but you would forgive her if you saw hov she baits me every day to go to London ; aU that I can say will not satisfy her. When I urge (aa tis true) that there is a necessity of my stay here, she grows furious, cries you wiU die with mekncholy; and confounds me so with stories of your Ul-humour, that I'll swear I think I should go merely to be at quiet, if it were possible, though there were no other reason for it. But I hope tis not so iU as she would have me believe It, though I know your humour is strangely al- L^e at CAiokaand* 109 tered from what it was, and am sorry to see it. Melancholy must needs do you more hurt than to another to whom it may be natural, as I think take heed on't. Can yon believe that you are dearer to me than the whole world beside, and yet neglect yourself P If you do not, you wrong a perfect friendship; and if you do, you must c«n8ider my interest in you. and preserve your- ahaU haunt you worse than she does me. Scrib- ble how you please, so you make your letter lonir enough; you see I give you good example ; be sides, I can assure you we do perfectly airree if you receive not satisfaction but from my litters 1 Have none but what yours give me. ' J,*;? w ?*•— I>o«>% has been in London since her last letter, but unfortunately she hw eith«r SenW ^T'f\'^""'P'«' «' ^^ •>"« «ft town sud- S^d TW '•'t'^'S *i"™' i*" «°">« unexplained E ;^ L • ^""^^ therefore seem a natural place to begin a new chapter; but as we have very shortly to come to a serie^ of unhappy iJ' ters quite distinct in their character from these I have thought fit to place in this long chante; Stephen MarshaL was, like Hugh Peters one obiuritv^^ir^*'" r^'' ""^ *^1« tf exchTnS ?£e obscurity of a country parish for the public fam« 300 Zove Zettert from. Dorothy Otlorne rh Jti?-f.1°° P'^P'*'> "won of a cortain gift of rhetorical power, ihe value of which it is Lpos- are still extant are prosy, long-winded, dogmatic iwh^ H^^ ^^''^ ^9"^^ =»^e one wonder cent^rv e3 ?'' ^*'^°°? «* » seventeenth ZiKf^?"^*'°°' '' °°« ^"^ not witnessed a similap gpint in congregations of toniay. Shi In^hp ^^'^^^t biography of Stephen Mar- snau In the news-books and tracts ot the day we find references to sermons preached by Um ment, and we have reprints of some of these I bZ^^^ ^ ^'^^^ fi"** ^^^ semJSThich f^V ^ giieat occasion, and we may beU,™ It was never printed. There is an amusWsc^! ^us tmct, called the Life and B^kZ Stephm MarthaU, which is so full of "evil LSr. mg, lymft and slandering," «, to be ouitTM worthy of quotation. Fro^ thL we majtke J gZ^Z\v^''^ M ^" "^^ '^t GormancC^r* k rXr^' T".*^' ^"^ ^^^'^^'t^d at Emmanud I^nrfT P.^'^^idge, and that before be came to llnH^n ^^^i:- ^^^' *°'J th« "oords of hti I^ndon preaching, are the only faots in his life's m7t''^*'^J1?^*' *^™« to my notice ' My Lord Whitelocke did go to Swed«i, « Dorothy surmises; setting saS from pSiout^ with one hundred honest^men. on OctoC 26 1663, or very soon aftorwards, ^ one may relS Life at Chichsands 20I been proposed to him bvcS^^.'^i?'^? ^ ^»^« of thii yg^ ™ °^ Cromwell in September Well may Lo^^ Kewl !^ ^"«"''' "* this year of the /or^^d rejoiS T«itr°*''"«^t''"«'t Keblewasawel^-k^Vnlpw^ "1^"- J™«Pt Serjeant Eioharf Tr«wr i "^Porter, a son of SoiandaKht'o/GS's'^C.^'^fT"'^.^" more, was one of the T n^?^ • ' ■*'"'' farther- Great Seal from 164i![^',f°'!l';!'««^°''«" of the debate," says mitelopki « ' u^^™ ^" "«>me be Btyied^^ComSSeV'^JIfcH^l'o^^ «oners,'»and thonph the woH Vif? ^°'°"''»- less acceptable at t^k hU^k ^^ ^*» far that the/ miSit* nJt se^rt^^*4,'r?h'> ^«' authonty, nor the honour nf tT^ ^L®"" ^"^^ 203 Love Letter* from, Dorothy Oehome how, with my usual impatience, I expected your letter, and how cold it went to my heart to see It so short a one. 'Twas so great a pain to me that I am resolv'd you shall not feel it; nor can 1 in justice punish you for a fault nnwillinelv committed. If I were your enemy, I could not use you ill when I saw Fortune do it too, and in gaUantry and good nature both, I should think myself rather obliged to protect you from her in- jury (if It lay in my power) than double them upon you. These things considered, I beUeye this letter wiU be longer than ordinary,-kinder 1 thmk It cannot be. I always speak my heart to you ; and that is so much yom ' .-lend, it never furnishes me with anything to your disadvan- tage. I am glad yon are an admirer of TelesUe as weU as I; in my opinion 'tis a fine Lady, bu> I know you will pity poor Amestris strong!.- when you have read her story. I'll swear I ci^ for her when I read it first, though she were but aa imaginary person; and, sure, if anything of th^ kind can deserve it, her misfortunes may. God forgive me, I was as near laughing yester- day where I should not. Would you believe that 1 liad the gi-ace to go hear a sermon upon a week day? In earnest, 'tis true ; a Mr. MarshaU was the man that preacLad, but never anybody was so defeated. He is so famed that I expected rare tlungs of him, and seriously I listened to him as We at Chickaandt SOS fortvf,-n,»?lY- u ; ""^ ^^ ^*d over some forty tunes, which made me remember it whet^r L . i!!; °°*- "^^^ '«'* ^" ""-ch at tUs me teterlarded with the prettiest odd phrases th^U ^the most ado to look soberly enon^foJUe place I was in that ever I had in my life H« cannot beheve his sermons wiU do much tow^ bnngmg anybody to heaven more than by « ercising their patience. Yet I'll «.^ *w ! my be he would be better without them' /et you are not convinced, vou sav fho* * t. miserable is the wav tn k„ j ^' ***** *° ^ Ithink it" not Sutl ^°*^' to Bome natures 204 love Uttera from. Dorothy Oihomt the supeit (though not the pleawntest) guide to T« «•** *^*"^ y°»' '^«»'t not I pr«„,h fancy a perfect happineM here, you ny ; that i. not muol^ many people do so ; but I never heard of "ybody that ever had it more than in fancy, ~ that will not be strange if you should miil on t One may be happy to a good degree, I thmk, m a faithful friend, a moderate SSe^ and a retured life; further than this I know nothing to wish; hut if there be anything be- yond It, I wish it yon. You did not tell me what carried yon out of town m such haste. I hope the occasion was good, you must account to me for aU that I lost by It. I shaU expect a whole packet next week. Oh, me I I have forgot this once or twice to teU you, that If It be no inconvenience to yon, I could wish you would change the place of direction for my letters. Certainly that Jones knows my name, I bespoke a saddle of him once, and though It be a good while agone, yet I was so often with him about it,-having much ado to make him understand how I would have it, it being of a fashion he had never seen, though, sure, it be common,-that I am confident he has not forgot me Besid^ that, upon it he got my brothert custom; and I cannot teU whether he does not use the shop still. Jane presents her humble W' at Chiektand, 306 BOX, t" hard to imagine What ihe can find her« d^hargs the carnage 'Ti. » pretty fwedom. he Is It true that my Lord Whitlooke goes Am ba«ador where my Lord Lisle .hould haTgonT? Court, but he wa* never meant for a conrtierti « often m this country, and always does us the favour to send for his fruit hither. ^HeTas^i ing a purchase of one of the best hou^^^n thL «)unty. I know not whether he^^„ J J.° thing less than a lord. And there is a talk a. tf 5^ Kebi^Js's^nf he :s;itrot"h?^ irtj iiim. Were it not better that I had nothinir to say neither, than that I should entertl you with rthin^'^ "" *''°«^- ^ '**?« I ^'^ ^^^ asleep, nothing else can excuse me; if I were n,,,-*- asleep, I should say fine thi„i to yo"" Xn i :_!| 306 /'w L»tU>r,/rom Dorothy OdorM S!!r»K ' "* ^^^ " I «»"1*' remember them tbej are no iriwr than my wakenin* dia- ooanwi. Good-night "onuig oia- iiness and abS faTneVJnl' flVm^ ? Yon* £u judge for yourself, reader, in the next cS^tell*" Sib,— Thh,t you may be at more cer*,->inty here- after what to think, let me teU you that notW could hinder me from writing to you (as weU for my own ^tisfaction as yo,Js) bT^ tatlS Wity of doing it; nothing but death or^Zi P«"8y m my hands, or something that had the jame effect. I did writ it, and^ve it £l,d! kit by an accident his horse feU lame, so that he could not set out on Monday; but on Tuesday letter h°°"'',V'^'"'' «•» Wednesday, carried tJe ktter himself (a« he tells me) where 'twas di- Twa^ the first time I made useof that direction ; no matter and I had not done it then, since i proves no better. Harrold came late home on Mf* at CAichandt ^7 ThoMday night with rooh an aooonnt « , best of that I had by CoUiT T J!j°?^' "^ you were concerned fn f.™^°' ""Jthmg that .hould not Se tienTt "°°''~'"^°"' ^ mvself >r«r T iTfr . occasion to reremw Zlf Au^' ' '^""''^ ''^^^ concluded you inT ia^o^SnTerXtX^r^^^ iustto.ePButi./;rhi:i;.^:;^(:; f 208 Jjove Letters from Dorothy Otbome long as we have been friends) you do not know me so well yet as to make an absolute judgment of me; but if I know myself at all, if I am capa- ble of being anything, 'tis a perfect friend. Yet I must chide too. Why did you get such a cold ? Good God ! how careless you are of a life that (by your own confession) I have told you makes all the happiness of mine. 'Tis unkindly done. What is left for me to say, when that will not prevail with you ; or how can you persuade me to a cure of myself, when you refuse to give me the example ? I have nothing in the world that gives me the least desire of preserving myself, but the opinion I have you would not be willing to lose me ; and yet, if you saw with what cau- tion I live (at least to what I did before), you would reproach it to yourself sometimes, and might grant, perhaps, that you have not got the advantage of me in friendship so much as you imagine. What (besides your consideration) could oblige me to live and lose all the rest of my friends thus one after another ? Sure I am not insensible nor very ill-natured, and yet I'll swear I think I do not afflict myself half so much as another would do that had my losses. I pay nothing of sadness to the memory of my poor brother, but I presently disperse it with thinking what I owe in thankfulness that 'tis not you I mourn for. I^fe at Chickaands 300 Well, give mc :,.: more occasions to complain of yoD you know uot what may foUow. Here Z^A •/ '■''T*° •*'««*«'^y that made me a very fand visit, and said so many fine things to me, that I was confounded with his civilities, and had rhl^if^.^tTi'"""^^"- I °oEirGY. CHBISTUAS 1653 This chapter of letters is a sad note, sounding out from among its fellows with mournful clear- ness. There had seemed a doubt whether all these letters must be regarded as of one series, or whether, more correctly, it was to be assumed that Dorothy and Temple had their lovers' quar- rels, for the well-understood pleasure of kissing friends again. But you will agree that these lovers were not altogether as other lovers are, that their troubles were too real and too many for their love to need the stimulus of constant April shower quarrels ; and these letters are very serious in their sadness, imprinting themselves in the mind after constant reading as landmarks clearly defining the course and progress of an unusual event m these lovers' history — a misun- derstanding. The letters are written at Christmastide, 1653. Dorothy had returned from London to Chicksands, and either had not seen Temple or he had left London hurriedly whilst she was there. There is a letter lost. Dorothy's youngest brother is lately dead ; her niece has left her ; her compan- ion Jane is sick ; her father, growing daily weaker and weaker, was sinking into his grave before her eyes. No bright chance seemed to open before 810 Detpondency 211 her, and their marriage seemed an impossibility. For a moment she loses faith, not in T^nle but T^hf^lfT ^"""^-^ T'"} 9t her. She is alone her hi '^ "^'^^t^" ^y^S father, and with Jier brother pouring his unkind gossip into her unwiUing ear, whilst the sad lonrvLr draws nn^?K T *^? ^''^T ' '^'^ '^^ wonder, then, that Dorothy, lone y and unaided, pacing ik the damp garden beneath the bare tree8,Vith aU the bS summer changed into decay, lost faith and hoM ? Teinple, when Dorothy's thoughts reach hW must have replied with some impatience. Ther^ are stories, too, set about concerning her eood name by one Mr. B., to disturb Tempfe. Te&X can hardly have pven credence to these, but^e may have complained of them to Dorothy, who 18 led to declare, "I am the most unfortunate woman breathing, but I wa* never faji" though she forgiv^ her Tover « aU those strange thoughts he has had " of her. Whatever were^the cafses «h«ll t ** 'T^' *" '**^«' *^« despondency, w1 fhflf ^^^ }'''*'' ac«"j™tely. Dorothy wm not the woman to vapour for months about « an early nit^T^^Krr- ^^«" ^^^ ^"^ this itTs fT^i ™ 5 •''^ deepest earnest of despair; when tnis mood IS over it is over for ever, and we ZT^T^^/' ''1««; atmosphere of hope and con J^» --J •^^J^'^^®'^''7 ^^ "'eei agonizing, but tt SUfto'j;'"^™^''^' '"^^ «^- P^'- ^ Tem^e now comes to Chicksands at an early aate. There is a new interchange of vows. 212 tov6 Letterafrom Dorothy Osborne Never aga m will their faith be shaken by fretting and despair; and these tows are never broken, but remain with the lovers until thcv aj« set aside bv others taken under the 8olem/sa"ction of the law and the old troubles vanish in new responsibilities and a new life of'thf^J/'T^'^y -^Me Blunt was a daughter w*t?^her ^»,. J e'"i? *™ ^'"' ^"^^ connected wiin toer name. She appears to have run awav Apr?i8^i?,r'^/ '^^.?' ««» ^^t^r; and on it«« « i" f' '*'® petitioned the Protector to Mr Rb,nF^'* commi^ion upon her whole case Mr. Blunt pretended that she was contracted^ ?r i"' *i\«^«' '* ^ ^"d. of gaCn?Snev thereby. There being no Bishop^s Court at t^ time, there are legardifflcultiesTn the way I5d we never hear the result of the petition. IS m February 1656, one Mr. Porter finds ^U committed to Lambeth House for carryhie^y her without her father's consent. ^^ SiE,— Having tired myself with thinkine I mean to weary you with reading, and revenge myself that way for aU the unquiet thoughts you have given me. But I intended this a sober let- ter, and therefore, sam raiUerie, let me teU you I hftve senously considered aU our misfortunes. despondency gj, it break the fo^ro ^^^^^^y J^'^^'^^ to brings a certai ^in I Zl t"''? '' '^«"*«d how dear you \iZT\Jn * ""^ "*" *«" J^o" kindness I pLed !i?!t "'^' ""'' t'""* i" yo""- and had set mv h2TT I'o^omd to myself, therefore mSe r ' Ih"^ "P*"" '* '''*» ^t wai that, how inntent^oTef nr^ *t^ '"^ «- tion, it was guilts L hJn *'"^^' '"^ '^^ able for thffi ^3^^^ ^^r theresSaLltT'"'?^''"' °^ ««'«"'; 'tis -onooi'/i:;?;r:fs'^'°r^ nothing left but to n^Z T' ^ ^°P«' *°<* ^ ^ave assure mysdfycLr^""'^^^^^^ **» *^*' ''^ch I in the en^d, ^rl^^Z^^^'^K:'^ ^rove with you to offir^h^wh-^ often prevailed done then out oTw^J*! ^^^^om have honour, I would ha^^!^ "'*' *""* P°'« of and kindness to yoS" '1"°! ?r* ""' "''^^^ claim my part in it oMeJen Lf Ir^^** '^"■ you, no, I am your fZnA I obligation to - "y life. I tCk morf a^dTa " "V "" -erbeless. IhaverwVyoTClt;;.' if 214 Love Lettert from Dorothy Oahome to discern that yon have all the qualities that make an excellent friend, and I shall endeavour to deserve that you may be so to me ; but I would have yon do this upon the justest grounds, and such as may conduce most to your quiet and future satisfaction. When we have tried aU ways to happiness, there is no such thing to be found but in a mind conformed to one's condition, what ever it be, and in not aiming at anything that is either impossible or improbable; all the rest is but vanity and vexation of spirit, and I durst pronounce it so from that little knowledge I have had of the world, though I had not Scripture for my warrant. The shepherd that bragged to the traveller, who asked him, « What weather it was like to be?" that it should be what weather pleased him, and made it good by saying it should be what weather pleased God, and what pleased God should please him, said an excellent thing in such language, and knew enough to make him the happiest person in the world if he made a right use on't. There can be no pleasure in a strug- gling life, and that folly which we condemn in an ambitious man, that's ever labouring for that which is hardly got and more uncertainly kept, IS seen in all according to their several humours ; in some 'tis covetousness, in others pride, in some stubbornness of nature that chooses always to go against the tide, and in others an unfortunate I' it ^Mpondenoy . - 215 oo much. Of this «rnou^'d7«^ '"^^^ thiiiK; we have lived hithirf! ! *''®' ^ airy that I have^f ^ "P*"" ^''P*" "^ could support the w^St T'''^ ''*" *^«^ bnt paMior«ve8 /.T ~.t •*" misfortunes; •elves, ou« h b^^ ^J!! ^ **> ^"«' 0"r- What can it L e^ L^?"^. ^^^'^ °^ "''^dness. world bTt hat sWu'l,°\*'e'^*^'°««''»the fancy, to ose .dlZ! ^^^^"^ '^''' "^^ "P one's hood of efer^nit T,**"" ?""' '' '" "'"« l^«li- ble acciden"Ta"tm'^?aSbr^r"P"*''^ on't? And w}„Vh • '"'^"'^ make us miss mastered by tS ITh™ *''*'' «"' ''^ ^^S teaches us to go ern and '.T'' ^""^ ''^-^ preeminence f ^^^ Th'* ''"k^ ^^^ "« '^ er''«id- quently to pell^L^^^-™'' -«> -- person,! should justify ^^71, v "'*'*^"' lightness in mv natnr« « • *"* "o* a not common to ^bS.?i: ^l^'"'''' '^"^ ^ change in me. To yttW? *"" ^'°"«^' t^^" from Whom I shiTevt^^Se^^tTT '"'' "Pn com^moVV^lltThrnf iT^^^ 316 Love Letter* from Dwrothy Otlor- but that I impose not my opinions upon you, and that I had rather you took them up u your own choice than upon my entreaty. But if, aa we have not differed in anything else, we could agree m this too, and resolve upon a friendship that will be much the perfecter for having nothing of passion in it, how happy might we be without so much as a fear of the change that any accident could bring. We might defy all that fortune could do, and putting off aU disguise and con- straint, with that which only made it necessary, niake our lives as easy to us as the condition of this world will permit. I may own you as a per- son that I extremely value and esteem, and for whom I have a particular friendship, and you may consider me as one that will always be Your faithful. This was written when I expected a letter from you, how came I to miss it? I thought at first It might be the carrier's fault in changing his time without giving notice, but he assures me he did, to Nan. My brother's groom came down to-day, too, and saw her, he teUs me, but brings me nothing from her; if nothing of ill be the cause, I am contented. You hear the noise my Lady Anne Blunt has made with her marrying? I am so weary with meeting it in all places where I go; from what is she fallen! they talked but despondency did mg great servio«. ^Tfi. • *"* °' Pap«r W Bt^fJTaSii^ "i it I should h^e and the sf^eS^rkhTir' '"^.'^ *'"*"». iave run 80 in my C tw7 T^f '"' ^""^d eluded «>metlu^'^of ^tfmV °"^'*''"« «'"- Poor Jane is siX. but7hf wSl ST '"*'"°^- ■he can. Did you mnH f L i . ' *^® ^3^". >' Mr. HoUingswort! T ^* ^"' °^ ^^^^ »<> not. A.ounn„grhTHr.";^'""°*^«"'«'t 'ne.but that I S^^uld di^ft""'^'^'™'" other. Ko- he w.« k '* some way or when th,s letter, hZdh?' '"'' '°*'» ^« '»«•'. of them stinS out l^r "*""'' *""* "°* «°« day t,ey .erallt fo dof V.^.^t;*'^ "^^^ to Jane came in one of W«n. u ^**^*'""'"t nothing else; it m^b^ ,f ff ' .^7 ^°"''^ ''"* was sent with iTZ^tlZ ^ '^' ^'^' '^^ there should be l^^HnToJt''^^ '"^^ quence than ordinLy ; ^it „,a/L t""<»- amongst the rest of nnl -^^ ® numbered an in'onsiderS^ i^^ ^:sfortunes. all which must pardon me iTT . f °«"«'<'ned. You paraon me I canpot be reconciled to it, it 218 Love Lettert from, Dorothy Otbome m k haa been the ruin of us both. 'Tis true that no- body miwt ima^ne to themselvea ever to be sb- wlute maater on't, bat there is great difference betwixt that and yielding to it, between striving with It and soothing it up tiU it grows too strong for one. Can I remember how ignorantly and mrooently I suffered it to steal upon me by degrees; how under a mask of friendship I cozened myself into that which, had it appeared to me at first in its true shape, I had feared and shunned? Can I discern that it has made the trouble of your life, and oast a cloud upon mine, that will help to cover me in my grave ? Can I know t^^a^. it wrought so upon us both as to make nmther of us friends to one another, but agree m running wildly to our own destruction, and that perhaps of some innocent persons who might Uve to curse our folly that gave them so miserable a being ? Ah ! if you love yourself or me, you must confess that I have reason to con- demn this senseless passion; that wheresoe'er it comes destroys aU that entertain it; nothing of judgment or discretion can live with it, and it puts everything else out of order before it can find a place for itself. What haa it brought my poor Lady Anne Blunt to? She is the talk of aU the footmen and boys in the street, and will be company for them shortly, and yet is so blinded by her passion as not at aU to perceive ^«*poneUnei/ cause his estate was le«. • ^r./! *^»"klin, be- of some lettlTh rh^r IXr*'?'""^-^ suffered herself to tl . ®' intercepted, three hundTef 'l^ ^'""'^"^ '^"^ t'^^tJ" twelve hundrS Ch' ^^ ^'^ ^**«' *^«° and ha. rt^eVS f iTeJ SaT ^'^ ^''^^'^ ' confesses there i. «!.f.7 ^f^'^'^at you see she desires to alter at Th^? "" ^'' condition she vy ner , may she long enjoy it, and I an S90 Lovi Letter* from Dorothy OAome early and a qniet grave, free from the tronble of thu buy world, where all with panion panne their own intereita at their neighbour's charges ; where nobody is pleased but somebody complains ont; and where 'tis impossible to be without giving and receiving injuries. You would know what I would be at, and how I mtend to dispose of myself. Alasl were I in my own disposal, you should come to my grave to be resolved ; but grief alone will not kilL All that I can say, then, is that I resolve on nothing but to arm myself with patience, to resist noth- ing that is laid upon me, nor struggle for what I have no hope to get. I have no ends nor no de- signs, nor will my heart ever be capable of any ; but like a country wasted by a civil war, where two opposing parties have disputed their right so long till they have made it worth neither of their conquests, 'tis ruined and desolated by the long strife within it to that degree as 'twill be useful to none,— nobody that knows the condition 'tis in will think it worth the gaining, and I shall not trouble anybody with it. No, really, if I may be permitted to desire anything, it shaU be only that I may mjure nob<% but myself,— I can bear anything that reflects only upon me ; or, if I cannot, I can die; but I would fain die innocent, that I might hope to be happy in the next world, though never in this. I take it a little ill that Zii ^ *"• P"'^*''"' "^*''' "« than vour Wndne«. No, a88ure you«elf ,vhat that alow «m„ot ga,a will be denied to all the worid Su would «M me, you wjr ? Yon may do w if vou PW, though I know not to what end S u^n 'IT"?? •' ^°" *'''"'' •* -«"'<» P"vS upon me to alter my intentions; beride., I can m^e no contrivance.; it must be hei^and^ must endure the noise it wiU make, and undergo the censures of a people that choose ever to gife ?eM?7t 'rr**""" '""' "^^'"» ^^ ^'■ let If It can be any ease to you to make m. more miserable than I am, never spa™ me ™! «der yourself only, and not me aVril^''tis^" o"Z]"" ' ?r "« '"' "«' accepting ;hat"you offe^ me whilst 'twas in your Jowf r to mZ It good as you say it then was. You were d«! ?^'als„it?H' r ""^"■'-'' "»»'- it I>K * *''°"«^ ' •^^ yo" '-ay pardon 1^ aT. "^"^ **^" ^ ^»'« *« forgive kT as wretehed as I am, I have still some sense of my reputation left in me,-I find t^t to my oost,-I shaU attempt to preserve it as clear as I make it the last of our interviews. What cm excuse me if I should entertain any pewon that IS known to pretend to me, when I cTn have no 222 Love Letters from Dorothy OAotm hope of ever marrying him? And what hope can I have of that when the fortune that can only make it possible to me depends upon a thou- sand accidents and contingencies, the uncertainty of the place 'tis in, and the government it may fall under, your father's life or his success, his disposal of himself and of his fortune, besides the time that must necessarily be required to produce all this, and the changes that may probably bring with It, which 'tis impossible for us to foresee ? AU this considered, what have I to say for myself when people shaU ask, what 'tis I expect ? Can there be anything vainer than such a hope upon such grounds ? You must needs see the foUy on't yourself, and therefore examine your own heart what 'tis fit for me to do, and what you can do for a person you love, and that deserves your compas- sion if nothing else,— a person that wUl always have an inviolable friendship for you, a friendship that shaU take up all the room my passion held in my heart, and govern there as master, till death come and take possession and turn it out. Why should you make an impossibility where there is none? A thousand accidents might have taken me from you, and you must have borne it. Why would not your own resolution work as much upon you as necessity and time does infallibly upon people ? Tour father would take It very ill, I believe, if you should pretend Oetpondency 223 to lore me better than he did my Lady, yet she f w ; ^ "■ * ^e^tle^oman in this country hat loved 80 passionately for siz or seven yea« !Li ^\^'^''^'^^^^ kept her from marrying, ^nng her death, consented to it; and withS half a year her husband died, which afflicted her ZTt^ °°^^ *°"«^* "I'e ^««ld have lived. She saw no light but candles in three years, nor came abroad in five; and now that tis some mne years past, she is passionately taken agam with another.and how long she has been so nobody knows but herself. This is to let you see t« not unpossible what I ask, nor unreasonab^ Thmk on't and attempt it at least; but do i -mcerely, and do not help your passiok to m«tej you As you have ever loved me do this. Ho^ ^T' '*"' T v"''^ ^°" "^tt^"" to Suffolk House to Jones I shall long to hear from you • but If you ijould deny the only hope that'sTf Tv h« \ ^^ ^""^ "^^ «*«'«' '* tiU Christmas Day be pas ; for, to deal freely with you, I h«^ some devious to perform then, which m'lnl? be d«turbed with anything, and nothing is like to do It as so sensible an affliction. Adieu. Letter 43. 8iB,-I can say little more than I did,-I am convmced of the vileness of the world and aU 224 Love Lettert from Dorothy Oahome that's in it, and that I deceived myself extremely when I expected anything of comfort from it. No, I have no more to do in't but to grow every day more and more weary of it, if it be possible that I have not yet reached the highest degree of hatred for it. But I thank God I hate nothing else but the base world, and the vices that make a part of it. I am in perfect charity with my enemies, and have compassion for all people's misfortunes as well as for my own, especially for those I may have caused ; and I may truly say I bear my share of suqL But as nothing obliges me to relieve a person that is in extreme want till I change conditions with him and come to be where he began, and that I may be thought com- passionate if I do all that I can without prejudio- mg myself too much, so let me tell you, that if I could help it, I would not love yon, and that as long as I live I shall strive against it as against that which had been my ruin, and was certainly sent me as a punishment for my sin. But I shall always have a sense of your misfortunes, equal, if not above, my own. I shall pray that you may obtain a quiet I never hope for but in my grave, and I shall never change my condition but with my life. Yet let not this give you a hope. Nothing ever can persuade me to enter the world again. I shall, in a short time, have disengaged myself of all my little aflfairs in it, De9pondency g^ and settled myself in a condition to apprehend nothing but too long a life, therefore I wish yoa would forget me ; and to induce you to it. let me tell you freely that I deserve you should If I remember anybody, 'tis against my will I am possessed with that strange insensibility that my nearest relations have no tie upon me, and I find myself no more concerned in those that I have heretofore had great tenderness of affection for than m my kindred that died long before I was bom. Leave me to this, a- 1 seek a better for- tune. I beg it of yon as heartily as I forgive you aU those strange thoughts you have had of me. Think me so still if that will do anything towards it. For God's sake do take any course that may make you happy ; or, if that cannot be. less unfortunate at least than Your friend and humble servant, D. OSBOBITB. I can hear nothing of that letter, but I hear from aU people that I know, part of my unhappy story, and from some that I do not know A lady, whose face I never saw, sent it me as news she had out of Ireland. Letter 44. Sib,— If yon have ever loved me, do not refuse the last request I shaU ever make you; 'tis to S26 Love Letters from Dorothy Osborru preserve yourself from the violence of your pas- sion. Vent it all upon me; call me and think me what you please ; make me, if it be possible, more wretched than I am. I'll bear it all with- out the least murmur. Nay, I deserve it all, for had you never seen me you had certainly been happy. 'Tis my misfortunes only that have that infections quality as to strike at the same time me and all that's dear to me. I u,m the most un- fortunate woman breathing, but I was never false. No; I call heaven to witness that if my life could satisfy for the least injury my fortune has done you (I cannot say 'twas I that did them you), I would lay it down with greater joy than any person ever received a crown ; and if I ever forget what I owe you, or ever entertained a thought of kindness for any person in the world besides, may I live a long and miserable life. 'Tis the greatest curse I can invent ; if there be a greater, may I feel it. This is all I can .ay. Tell me if it be possible I can do anything for you, and tell me how I may deserve your pardon for all the trouble I have given you. I would not die without it. [Directed.] For Mr. Temple. Letter 45. Sib, — 'Tis most true what you say, that fnw have what they merit ; if it were otherwise, you n Despondency jjy would be happy, I think, but then I should be so too, and that must not be,-« false and an inoon- Btant person cannot merit it, I am sure You aw kind in your good wishes, but I aim at no friends nor no princes, the honour would be lost upon me; I should become a crown so ill, there would be no striving for it after me, and, sure, I should not wear it long. Your letter wa^ a much greater loss to me than that of Henry Cromwell, and, therefore, 'tis that with aU my care and diligence I cannot inquire it out. You wiU not complain, I believe, of the shortness of my last, whatever else you dislike in it, and if I spare you at any time 'tis because I cannot but imagine, since I am so wearisome to myself, that I must needs be so to everybody else though, at present, I have other occasions that will not permit this to be a long one. I am sorry It should be only in my peer to make a friend miserable, and that where I have sogreat a kind- ness I should do so great injuries; but 'tis my fortune, and I must bear it ; 'twill be none to you, I hope to pray for you, nor to desire that yoJ would (aU passion laid aside) freely teU me my faults, that I may, at lea^t, ask your forgiveness wnere tis not in my power to make you better satisfaction. I would fain make even with all the world and be out of danger of dying in any- body's debt; then I have nothing mor^to do in 398 £ovs LeOeri from Dorothy OOome It but to expect when I .haU be ao happy at to leave it, and always to remember that my mil- fortune make. aU my faulta towarda yon, and that my fanlts to God make aU my mirfortnnes. Toor unhappy. ZetterM. «*-^!? ^ *"*' distraction a. I cannot be satisfied with It, nor believe it has expressed my thoaghts as I meant them. No, I find it is not easUy done at more Wisure, and I am yet to seek what to say that is not too little nor too much. I would fam let you see that I am extremely sen- sible of your aflUotion, that I would lay down my life to redeem yon from it, but that's a mean ex- pression; my life is of so little value that I will not mention it. No, let it be rather what, in earuMt, if I can teU anything I have left that is considerable enough to expose for it, it must be that smaU reputation I have amongst my friends, that s aU my wealth, and that I could part with to restore yon to that quiet you lived in when I first knew yon. But, on the other side, I would not give yon hopes of that I cannot do If I loved you less I would aUow you to be the same person to me, and I would be the same to you as heretofore. But to deal freely with you, 4at were to betray myself, and I find that my pas- ■Deipondeney ^29 any liberty I am not secure that it woidd not make me do the most extravagant thing, in the world and I shaU be forced to keep a ^ntuZ war ahve mtk ,t as long as there are any re- mamdors of it left;-I think I might «, w^ have said as long as I lived. Why should you ^ve yourself over so unreasonably to it ? Good God 1 no woman breathing can deserve half the trouble you give yourself. If I were yours from this minute I could not recompense what you have suffered from tk, violence of your pasrion. though I were aU that you can imagine meVwie J God knows, I am an inconsideruble person, bon^ to a thousand misfortunes, which have taken away aU sense of anything else from me, and left me a walking miser,r only. I do from my soul forgive you aU the injuries your passion ha. done me, though let me tell you, I wa. much more at my ease whilst I was angry. Scorn and despite would have cured me in some reasonable time, which I despau. of now. However, I am not di.! pleased with it, and, if it may be of any advan- tage to you, I shall not com,ider myself in it ; but let me beg, then, that you will leave off those dismal thoughts. I tremble at the desperate things you say in your letter; for the love of Ood, consider seriously with yourself what can enter into comparison with the safety of your 330 Lorn Letten/rom Dorothy OOorna I ! ■onl. Are a thousand women, or ten thoiuand world., worth it ? No, you cannot have n litUe For God's MUce let us not neglect what can only make us happy for trifles. If God had seen it at to have satisfied our desires we should have Had them, and everything would not have con- spired thus to have crossed them. Since He has decreed it otherwise (at least a. far as we are ab e to judge by events), we must submit, and not by striving make an innocent passion a sin. and show a childish, stubbornness. I could say a thousand things more to this pur- pose If I were not in haste to send this away - that it may come to you, at least, as soon as the other. Adieu. I cannot imagine who this should be that Mr Dr. meant, and am inclined to believe 'twas a sto^meant to disturb you, though perhaps not ZetUr 47. Si^— 'Tis never my humour to do injuries, nor was thu. meant as any to yon. No, in earnest, if 1 could have persuaded you to have quitted a passion that injures you, I had done an act of real friendship, and yon might have lived to thank me for it ; but since it cannot be, I will at- tempt it no n»ore. J have laid before you th* Deapondency S81 inoonvenienoei it brings along, how certain the trouble i*, and how uncertain the reward; how many accidents may hinder us from ever being happy, and how few there are (and those 80 un- likely) to make up our desire. AU this makes no impression on you; you are still resolved to fol- low your blind guide, and I to pity where I can- not help. It will not be amiss though to let you see that what I did was merely in consideration of your interest, and not at all of my own, that you may judge of me accordingly; and, to do that, I must tell you that, unless it were after the receipt of those letters that made me angry, I never had the least hope of wearing out my pas- sion, nor, to say truth, much desire. For to what purpose should I have strived against it ? 'Twaa innocent enough in me that resolved never to marry, and would have kept me company in this solitary place as long as I Uved, without being a trouble to myself or anybody else. Nay, in ear- nest, if I could have hoped you would be so much your own friend as to seek out a happiness in some other person, nothing under heaven could have satisfied me like entertaining myself with the thought of having done you service in divert- ing you from a troublesome pursuit of what is so uncertain, and by that giving you the occasion of a better fortune. Otherwise, whether you loved me still, or whether you did not, was equally the 932 Low Letteri from Dorothy OAon%» \ ■ame to me, your interest set aside. I will not reproach yon how ill an interpretation you made of this, because we will have no more quarrels. On the contrary, because I see 'tis in vain to think of curing yon, I'll study only to give yon what ease I can, and leave the rest to better physicians, — to time and fortune. Here, then, I declare that you have still the same power in my heart that I gave you at our last parting ; that I will never marry any other ; and that if ever our fortunes will al^ow us to marry, you shall dispose of me as you please ; but this, to deal freely with you, I do not hope for. No ; 'tis too great a happiness, and I, that know myself best, must acknowledge I deserve crosses and afflictions, but can never merit such a blessing. Yon know 'tis not a fear of want that frights me. I thank Ood I never distrusted His providence, nor I hope never shall, and without attributing anything to myself, I may acknowledge He has given me a mind Uiat can be satisfied with as narrow a com- pass as that of any person living of my rank. But I confess that I have an humour will not suffer me to expose myself to people's scorn. The name of love is grown so contemptible by t^metimes, and leaves me S> in the Zi ^£1 ,^^t^ **^"* "« *»»t I tremble to thi^on't. But no more of this sad talk Who was that, Mr. Dr. told you I should marry? I cannot imagine for my life; tell me Did nt^vo*^"' ^°" "^•' •* ^ ^cuseVSfrsTu: fLTf ^ '^^ """^ y^" ^''^ ^J»eVe good French tweezers were to be had ? Pray sendme a pau. ; they shaU cut no love. Befo^y^go J must have a rmg from yon, too, a pkin ^Id fne ; If I ever marry it shall be my weddii^ rin* "•'o^' yon what his , "^ ways, and yet I do Drotmt T «m^ber nothing more o/them thanEtne A stetely and majeetio brow, Of (on» to make Proteoton bow. ^^!!thl l^r f°^ "^^^^^ ^""'^ Ithinkhehas MM ud diooide,^ wli,t«,CT„ anybod/.!- " wen a.. I dM.«.j°^sr,ir s TL^d-ALtrE-M "' I 'in '■ !!l : i liii I 'lit i C ! I 240 i« «"«* troublesome busy talking httle thing that ever was born • h J less purpose, though if it were aJl oracle, my ^^ I^ 0/ ChicJumdt would wondrtol*Joi7^i',*°'^"°«- You impertinences and Zi h ^"^ '^° " with hi. jjSbavea^,rrte'":;t?r l^^"^' the world, and aha ™.i,-„ ^^ •°"* **"« » Twoo,,2;rXSi;Kiive'f".::j J>er to wink at aU his faultf Sd ^it ^^ « unmoved and unconcerned ^tftntr™ ^ to marrj him. " another were woSS^tin '^ra'^*' ^"°* '^-« '- 'o' once, I «~w rtriiJ""*"'^"***"'' See how kind !«£ to\rrh'aX7t:i*" ^*" go as soon a« yon can S ^ ?"«" '«>'^. «^ who am Z aSend *'*' •"*^' ' Do^ merSr^p?rtn»!^°r^''*^ ^J'"™ "eat of'Anthony Gwrfe^iJ**^' V ""e «»dtobeapictnr«tlb^;erfS?Wnr*- S'*'"" ~f copy of Lely'spiot^ wZ^7:'°'P'«' a few miles from OhlokSs. ^"^ " ""^^ Sib,— Who would be WnH *^ proaches one so cn,eUy? ^oXr^v",* "^ ««w>««t, I could be satL^H *^ ^ " "'^' "i think me a di«emEle??„u „*""' "^"'^ "^"'^'^ tion? No ^^ ; "" "' *^"ioo or ambi- tion? No. you are mwtaken; but I'U teU yoi I 'il 244 Lovt LetUrt from Dorothy OOortu if" what I could guffer, that they should say I max. lied whare I had no inclination, because my ttends thought it fit, rather than that I had run wilfully to my own ruin in pursuit of a fond pas- sion of my own. To marry for love were no^^e. proachf ul thing if we did not see that of the thousand couples that do it, hardly one can be brought for an example that it may be done and not repented afterwards. Is there anythinir thought so indiscreet, or that makes one more oont«nptible ? Tis true that I do firmly beUeve we should be, as you say, toujour, l» me»me,; but If (as you confess) 'tis that which hardly happens once in two ages, we are not to expect the world should discern we were not like the rest, ra teU you stories another time, you re- turn them so handsomely upon me. WelL the next servant I teU you of shall not be caUed a whelp if 'twere not to give you a stick to beat myself with. I would confess that I looked upon the impudence of this feUow as a punish- ment upon me for my over care in avoiding the talk of the world ; yet the case is veiy diflferent. and no woman shall ever be blamed that an in- consolable person pretends to her when she gives no allowance to it, whereas none shaU 'scape that ovfts a passion, though in return of a person much above her. The little tailor that loved Quwtt Elizabeth was suffered to talk out, and ^^^o''«h. "omoreofhin,L^i'^"- ^^•^« heard ^« met at wlWt aitS^ t ^ ■*" ^'"^ •^"5 •haU be better ableto^t h^ ""' '*°°^t but I W. tutor wa.; buJ wl^d* ""T'*'''^t3rthaa pVes him hi.'e„^„^^;/;« think it i, that ^ thought of fflamCt Ln.. ""• *°" I "ot above two huKVuSS ! "^ "** ^ o my lildng to hie p^n.^lVn^'"' v""^^ °"t h« vanity aUow, STto th^b h^" "•** ««" " 'ar a» another. ^^ *!"* ^« »V Intend gather ^thontr^tZtT *". *" "«t alto. «' the world, S^^tkl 'PP!*^™*'thenoiM rontaga ^ ""* tu so much to my digad- 50. if I had gone, it J^ b^l"^ ?" ^^^^ -"Wnd. my neighbour, who h« ml ^. *''* ''"ted on t«,n and goes' not ht^lf \T"^ ^«' "^l- there, and am so littuTu ^''•' "° husiness I could 8it1S« i*"%^«° '^th thephwe iZ thinbng once of S'n "S?°"* «" """"h as ^ou«y. that you- j^sior;-::^;^^- U9 Love Letter » ftem Dorothy Otbomt ;! ! father to what you do not deaire he should do ; but It i. ham if aU the testimonie. of my kind- new are not enough to latitfy without my pub- ^v^ to the world that I can forget my friend. «d aU my intereit to foUow my piion ; though, ST" 'u l^ **''^* of a good .en«», «ti. tUt which nobody but you or I wiU giy, it, and we that are oonoemed m't can only «,y >twa. an act of great kindnees and something romance, but must confess it had nothing of prudence, discre- tion, nor sober counsel in't 'Tis not that I ex- pect, by au yoni* father's offers, to bring my fnends to approve it. I don't deceive myself Z^!^l tTJ ''""^'^ •"»* 'P^' *•>«" occasion to say that I hid myself from them in the doimr it • than It IS. It will concern me that all the world shodd know what fortune you have, and upon what terms I marry yon, that both may not be msde to appear ten time, worse than they are. Tis the general custom of aU people to make those that are rich to have more mines of gold fortunes to be beggars. If an action take a little in the world, it shaU be magnified and brought mto comparison with what the heroes or senators of Borne performed ; but, on the contrary, if it be once condemned, nothing can be found iU enough to compare it with; and people are in III: owned to iU ^^1^ '^ JT ""*'' '°«^"j^ ^"- waaon then to desire ^iTCT' ^•^•I"ot not; 'ti. « you think* but rru/ / """"^ wiU teaoh me i^ „"" ,, ^^ '^^"•ed it, yon •top there, I mig^t ht^ ""I '"L^T "" **» •howed that I had mL^ .«°°\*«> '". and •honld repent your bSZ„ u^,'*"^*^ ^"^ ^oa your pow^, to^rl^J^^J" ^ ^ ^ ^ own my ill-humourto vouTf ' '^^"^ ^ "^^ discontent my croL in th,!l ^"^ '* ' '^ ""» "•e makes nfe t^'^^J '•^"«- ,^ve given myself, before I knew^r/;. J?.°°*\ ^ "^^ '* an humoured younrn^n *^*'°**'* " ^«" nothing displeied^^^trbSl^-^^-O^ was always S n? *'^*^'*'^ humourlhat pleased, H^i^wnT **"" "^"^ ^"* '^«^»^» and dis;,m^"el~L .S"^ *"*» ^'^^ fro.a^ to the climate, had wrZhf ^^ ^ '"'*'^ ejects that I ;as as nri^Xttlr..^ ^i 848 Love LetUri from Dorothy Otbonu olothM. If yon find all thia to be nd truth hen- after, remember that I gave you fair warning. Here ii a ring: it muat not be at all wider than thia, which ia rather too big for me than otherwise ; but that ia a good fault, and counted lucky by aupentitioua people. I am not ao, though: 'tia indifferent whether there be any word in't or not ; only 'tia aa weU without, and wiU make my wearing it the lesa obaerred. Tou muat give Nan leave to cut a look of your hair for me, toa Oh, my heart I what a aigh waa there 1 I will not tell you how many thia journey oauaea; nor the fear and apprehenaiona I have for you. No, I long to be rid of you, am afraid you will not go aoon enough : do not you believe thia? No, my deareat, I know you do not, whate'er you aay, you cannot doubt that I am youra. Zetier 61.— Lady Newport waa the wife of the Earl of Newport, and mother of Lady Anne Blunt of whom we heard aomething in former lettora. She ia mentioned aa a prominent leader of London aociety. In March 1662 she ia granted a paaa to leave the country, on condition that she gives security to do nothing prejudicial to the state; from which we may draw the inference that she waa a political notability. My Lady Devonshire waa Christian, dauffhter of Lord Bruce of Kinloss. She married Wffliam vavendish, secpnd BarJ of Pevonshir*. Hw II !^^ Latt 0/ ChieJctandt 249 and acquired taste Vv«?w "*!""* » ounous 360 Lome not oaujrht thn> ».» ^ ™ ^"''* ^a« ^^^ «, mignt have be,;- prevailed on to many take to^?^ , thw age,and the liberty they Sve S * "^^l^^^- I have the charity to Z are and "^hK"" "^'^ '°"°'» '^-'^e than the^ are, and that the want of a Donrf t^ ^ tliemselves by is in ^reat mrf fh f ''"'' ruin • thnnfft, ♦k * ^ P"* '°® <»"«e of their The Last of Ohiohaandt 351 l«i.t they durst not own a contrary oouKe. AU who had good principles and inclination, were encouraged .n then,, and such a. had neithe" were forced to put on a handsome disifuise that they might not be out of countenanc?rt"hem! Jdjes. 'Tis certain (what you say) that where divine or human laws are not positive we may be our own judges ; nobody can hinder us, nor k safe to take all liberty that is allowed us,-there arc not many that are sober enough to be trusted with the government of themselves ; and because others judge us with more severity than our in- dulgence to ourselves wiU permit, it must neces- sanly follow that 'tis safer being ruled by their Z"T. *^f ^^ "" °^''- I *"» disputing again, though you told me my fault so plainly is nL^'r '* °^"'' "'"**"" y°" **"'* ^'^^^*« « now my company. My brother sent it down, and I have almost read it. 'Tis handsome lan- gxiage ; you would know it to be writ by a person wiL ^ *^ ""^^^ ^''^ ^ >»«*' a resem- blance with those of other romances, there is nothing new or mrpren i" thelatter Sib,— They say you gave order for this waste- paper ; how do you think I could ever fiU it, or with what ? I am not always in the humour to wrangle and dispute. For example now, I had rather agree to what you say, than teU you that 968 Low Zetten from Dorothy OOome Dr. Taylor (whow devote yon mntt know I am) •ay, there is a great advantage to be gained in w»>gning np one's wiU to the command of an- other, beoawe the same action which in itself is whauy mdiflrerent, if done upon our own choice. h«oni,, an act of duty and religion if done in «.." "i"^ to the command of any person whom nat .-c^ the kws, or ourselves have given a power over us; «, that though in an action almdy done we «ui only be our own judges, because we only know with what intentions it was done, yet m any we intend, 'tis safest, sure, to take the ad- vice of another. Let me practise this toward, you as well as preach it to you. and I'll lay a wager you will approve on't. But I am chiefly of your opinion that contentment (which the lustre to all one's enjoyment, puts a beauty upon things which without it would have none in- creases It extremely where 'tis already in some degree, and without it, all that we caU happiness besides loji^its property. What is contentment, must be left to every particular person to judge for themselves, since they only know what is so to them which differs in all according to their Kveral humours. Only you and I agree 'tis to be found by us m a true friend, a moderate for- tune, and a retired life; the last I thank God I have in perfection. My cell is almost finished 3%» Latt Twas unkindly said to teU me I banish you ; your heart never told it you, I dare swear ; nor mine ne'er thought it. No, my dear, this is our last misfortune, let's bear it nobly. Nothing shows we deserve a punish- ment so much as our murmuring at it; and the way to lessen those we feel, and to 'scape those we fear, is to suffer patiently what is imposed, making a virtue of necessity. 'Tis not that I have less kindness or more courage than you, but that mistrusting myself more (as I have more reason), I have armed myself aU that is possible against this occasion. I have thought that there 18 not much difference between your being at Dubhn or at London, as our affaire standTrou can wnte and hear from the flret, and I should not see you sooner if you continued still at the last. Besides, I hope this journey will be of advan- tage to us; when your father pressed yonr com- ing over he told you, you needed not doubt either his power or his wiU. Have I done anything sinoe that deserves he should alter his intention 960 Love ZtUtrt from Dorothy Otbonu towanto US? Or ha« any aooident leMened hit powwP If neither, we may hope to be happy, and the eooner for thi. journey. I daw not send my boy to meet yon at Briokhm nor any other of the •ervante, they are aU too talkative. But I ^. *•* J^'- ^'^"^ *' y*»° *^» to bring yon a letter. Tis a civil, weU-natured man an om be, of exoeUent prindplea and exact honerty. I dnnt make him my oonfeswr, though he i. not obliged by ta« orders to conceal anything that is told him. But you must tell me then which Brickhill it is you stop at, Littie or Great; they are neither of them far from us. If you sUy there you wiU writo back by him, wiU you not, a long letter ? 1 shaU need it ; besides that, you owe it me for the last being so short. Would you saw what letters my brother writes me ; you are not half so kmd. WeU, he is always in the extremes ; since our last quarrel he has courted me more than ever he did in his life, and made me more pres- ents, which, considering his humour, is as great a testimony of his kindness as 'twas of Mr Smith's to my Lsdy Sunderknd when he pre^ sented Mrs. Camilla. He sent me one this week whiofc, iD earnest, is as pretty a thing as I have seen, a Obina trunk, and the finest of the kind that e'er I saw. By the way (this puts me in mind on't), have you read the story of China Vntten by a Portuguese, Fernando Mendez Pinto The Latt qf CMektond* Ml I think his name it? If yon hare not, take it with yon, 'tia aa diverting a book of the kind aa ever I read, and ia at handsomely written. Yon mnst allow him the privilege of a traveller, and he does not abase it His lies are as pleasant harmless ones, as lies can be, and in no great number considering the scope he haa for them. There ia one in Dublin now, that ne'er saw much farther, haa told me twice as many (I dare swear) of Ireland. If I should ever live to see that country and be in't, I should make excellent sport with them. 'Tis a sister of my Lady Grey's, her name is Pooley ; her husband lives there too, but I am afraid in no very good con- dition. They were but poor, and she lived here with her sisters when I knew her; 'tis not half a year since she went, I think. If you hear of her, send me word how she makes a shift there. And hark you, can you tell me whether the gentleman that lost a crystal box the Ist of February in St James' Park or Old Spring Gai^ dens has found it again or not, I have strong cu- riosity to know? Tell me, and 111 tell you something that you don't know, which is, that I am your Valentine and you are mine. I did not think of drawing any, but Mrs. Goldsmith and Jane would need make me some for them and myself; so I writ down our three names, and for m?n Mi, Fish, Jaines B., and you. I ont MICROCOPY RESOLUTION IBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.25 1^ m u 1.6 _^ rjP PLIED IIVHG E_lr; ^^^ '653 East Main Street S".^ Rochester, New York 14609 WiA r^S (716) *82 - 0300 - Phone 1^^ (716) 288- 5989 - Fo« 262 Love Letters from Dorothy Osborne them all equal and made them up myself before them, and because I would owe it wholly to my good fortune if I were pleased. I made both them choose first that haxi never seen what was in them, and they left me you. Then I made them choose again for theirs, and my name was left. Ton cannot imagine how I was delighted with this little accident, but by taking notice that I cannot forbear telling you it. I was not half so pleased with my encounter next morning. I was up early, but with no design of getting an- other Valentine, and going out to walk in my night-cloak and night-gown, I met Mr. Fish go- ing a hunting, I think he was ; but he stayed to tell me I was his Valentine ; and I should not have been rid on him quickly, if he had not thought himself a little too negligee; his hair was not powdered, and his clothes were but ordi- nary ; to say truth, he looked then methought like other mortal people. Yet he was as hand- some as your Valentine. I'll swear you wanted one when you took her, and had very ill fortune that nobody met you before her. Oh, if I had not terrified my little gentleman when he brought me his own letter, now sure I had had him for my Valentine ! On my conscience, I shall follow your counsel if e'er he comes again, but I am persuaded he will not. I writ my brother that story for want of The Last of Chicksandt 263 something else, and he says I did very well ie ir "' °*'T ^"^ '" •^ "■'» «» him; and J„„, I V T'"''' "P^'^'' ^'•^t lo'^n be severe enough when I please, and wishes I would prlc- Sl ''rZ:^''' «1- *« ^e" a. there. CanTou tell where that is ? I never understand anybS^ ises iT r 'P^^ P^"''^ E°«"«h, and he never storie a ^ ""' "f 'l'"' ''"' *^'^ '"^ tl'^ finest D e th J h ^^ ''PPly them how I please) of peo- ple that have married when they thought there was great kindness, and how miserably they have found themselves deceived ; how desjJcable thlr have made themselves by it, and how sadly thev ency than you do that follows good nature, says It makes one credulous, apt to be abused, betraVs Zb.t ./"^°'°^ "* P«°P'« *hat make ad- loZ T 1'""^- "f '"'" *"*'^«' *°<^ tSe little notice of, unless ,t be sometimes to say that with all these faults I would not be without it. No TtT^T: IZ ^ "''"''^ "°* '°^« «"3^ V^^^ that I thought had it not to a good degree. 'Twas the first thing I liked in you, and withou 7t I should never have liked anything. I know 'tis counted simple, but I cannot imajne why 'tL true some people have it that have not wit, but there are at least aa many foolish people I have ever observed to be fullest of tricks, little ugl^ 264: Zove ZetUrafrom Dorothy Osborne plots and designs, unnecessary disguises, and mean cunnings, which are the basest qualities in the world, and makes one the most contemptible 1 think: when I once discover them they lose their credit with me for ever. Some will say they are cunning only in their own defence, and that there is no bVing in this world without it : but I cannot understand how anything more is necessary to one's own safety besides a adent c»iution; that I now think is, though I can re- member when nobody could have persuaded me that anybody meant ill when it did not appear by their words and actions. I remember mv mother (who, if it may be allowed me to say it) was counted as wise a woman as most in Eng- land,— when she seemed to distrust anybody, and saw I took notice on't, would ask if I did not think her too jealous and a little ill-natured Come, I know you do," says she, "if you would confess it, and I cannot blame you. When I was young as you are, I thought my father-in-law (who was a wise man) the most unreasonably suspicions man that ever was, and disliked him for It hugely ; but I have lived to see it is almost impossible to think people worse than they are and so will you." I did not believe her, and less! that I should have more to say to you than this paper would hold. It shall never be said I be- gan another at this time of night, though I have TAe last of Chicksanda 263 little more circumstance how perfectly I am yours. -of hoTdl^r^""''''^''' '''°*''«'- ««e™* to have ^ot told of a new weapon of attark in T^JLt" reigiou, opinions, whic^ m^Kave STo«| GossF,„g BisLp Burnet,ron1o?his°morem: natured passages, teUs us that TemDleTaT nn 7soJi" ^''^P'? "^^^''^'1 thf epLcopS IqS Se" aVarkbirerf"^ ""'' Lordship^slanSerouTrven ^^L^- ^.P'^^ably one of the Cheeke familv Bagshawe is Edward Bagshawe the EldeTfi A of Brasenose Oxford, an3 of the Midd eTem' pie, barrister-at-law. In the earlv n»ri !!f *1!^' iT^y,^' had been a pSLral^'puritan/ and m the old hall of the Middle TemDlf hadX' livered two lectures to show that Sopsiia; not meddle in civil affairs, and that aTarif/ ment may be held without Wshops quSns' 8t.ll unsettled. Laud appears to have'p^ohfS? Jiing at Oxford, and suffered imprisonment at 266 love letters from Dorothy Osborne the hands of his former friends in the Kino.'- Bench Prison from 1644 to 1 filfi v §-^ in 1662, and was buried at Morton PincknPv In Northamptonshire. How and why he m«Pd' «? ted'BT^h"^^ 'V' ™possib7e'Lw t^it:* Kn Zi^T^''- ^'^^Xounge' published in 1671 trance so many days at Whitehall." Shrami™« After this she abandoned her design of pS from county to county disaffecting the Sf with her prophecies, and we hear^no mC o? 8iB,-'Tis well you have given over vonr re- kmdly and like a friend. Possibly it is a weak- ^TJ" "\*",^''" ''t the world's esteem, as if I could not be happy without it; but th^re are certain things that custom has made almost S absolute necessity, and reputation I tak7 to ^ The Last of Chu-ksands 2(!7 teeth, who is it th«f !. spite of their SUSSHS «r.d to pl„„ „„ (rimi, T w '"l"*''™ r: ','ii 268 Love Letters from Dorothy OgLrTie to do it, but of so reasonable an apprehension the whole wo.ld (without any reserve) shall pronounce they did it merely to satisfy their giddy humour. Besides, though you imagine, 'twere a great argument of my kindness to consider nothing but you, in earnest I believe 'twould bo an injury to you. I do not see that it puts any value upon men when women marry them for love (as they term it) ; 'tis not their merit, but our folly that is always presumed to cause it ; and would it be any advantage to you to have your wife thought an indiscreet person ? All this I can say to you ; but when my brother disputes it with me I have other arguments for him, and I drove him up so close t'other night that for want of a better gap to get out at he was fain to say that he feared as much your having a fortune as your having none, for he saw you held my Lord Lt.'s [? Lieutenant's] principles. That religion and honour were things you did not consider at all, and that he was con- fident you would take any engagement, serve in employment, or do any thing to advance yourself. I had no patience for this. To say you were a beggar, your father not worth £4000 in the whole world, was nothing in comparison of hav- ing no religion nor no honour. I foigot all my disguise, and we talked ourselves weary ; he re- nounced me, and I defied him, but both in aa The Last of Chicksandt 269 civil language as it would Dermit .«^ . j, . half an hour and «.id not one w^". Z^tolZ' would not endure another night iTklthe W / gam a crown " t ™u , * . °® '*■'' to talked so lone of it 7nH f ^*""'' *"'' ^^^ all our anger* WelJ: f''°"*'f' **■«* '' "'''' with all thfworU T^o H. I '"''^ P^" cell they equdTlnhlwt nT """"'"'"^ '" "^ humble^hUL k ij "onrtr^l. "*'" other, than we. He askedT; pT^ ^^^ i^ III 270 I^e Letters from Dorothy Oshmie and he hn« promised me never to speak of it to me whilst he Uves, but leave the event to God Almighty ; until he sees it done, he will always be the same to me that he is ; then he shall leave me, he says, not out of want of kindness to me, but because he cannot see the ruin of a person that he loves so passionately, and in whose happi- ness he has laid up all his. These are the terms we are at, and I am confident he will keep his word with me, so that you have no reason to fear him in any respect ; for though he should break his promise, he should never make me break mine. No, let me assure you this rival, nor any other, shall ever alter me, therefore spare your jealousy, or turn it all into kindness. I will write every week, and no miss of letters shall give us any doubts of one another. Time nor accidenta shall not prevail upon our hearts, and, if God Almighty please to bless us, we will meet the same we are, or happier. I will do all you bid me. I will pray, and wish, and hope, but you must do so too, then, and be so careful of yourself that I may have nothing to reproach you with when you come back. That vile wench lets you see all my scribbles, I believe ; how do you know I took care your hair should not be spoiled ? 'Tis more than e'er yon did, I think, you are so negligent on't, and keep it so ill, 'tis pity you should have it. May if The LaH of Chickaand* 271 the lock you eive ni« K»ff !: » , « I keep 'est, I shil noT ;r jl^""l"trJ° "" ">•• chidden. What ^iTCi ' ^''^ ^ '^ soundly sure RobinC^" K^''«' *hey d°- I«n was last in" t^ "'i', ^fthTnt'l^'' "''" ^ cousin MoIl« »..= y "8^' ' admire my B^t at K^li " Ch^-^d^ ''^ *'? ^- he is very discreet- r" ,f "^ """^ ^nceals it, anything fhatTeT„;wrish":r f"™ ^^ accuston. n,yself to rnliseo^fl !"'«'* r" *" easy to me as T Pn„ 7k "°''l °" *- and make it as -er^ noTtaTkL of tmTh ' ^"^ ""'=' "''''- '^' necessity ot^^.11 ^^^ ^^^^ »" absolute ofhispoweJthat ;tv ^PP'"" «« confident t^wer mat it gives me groat hopes. 273 L,» ■ ^'^'' 'a-^away in was made J^a loivhead t fh'i™^^ »« ^and now. It was a four HnJ?- °*® days as it is and no gTod 'road after ""Thr^ ''^ ^^«'''«''' through Wales trT R-.1 1 J ^^^ ^reat route 274 love tetters from DorotKy Osborne i^Tbufr' ""a ""^^^ ' *'«^ J"" ^y wa* carried mysterious symbolic ini^ of ^^^n^;^'"''"' dalmongerins:. St. Qr^y^s ^%?^i'^:'- -» a churcl entirely Lt^^JSTy V^il'^ stone, m^J'fcl7tS?^^°*«';-«"Maid- heirei. of ThlnTSrd VS.*"'*'"**'' '^^ "^ For your Master [seal with coat-of-arms] when your Mistress pleaaes. Sib,— You bid me write every week and T »™ you I*t Nan look to that, with whom, I sup- pose, you have left the orders of conveyaioe^ ^Z r;'n '^"«"' •">* '^-«. to whom 70U refer me, is not yet come down. On Tuesdav T •J" '"""»' rf "ring .othlng. Tour/»k . troop of g„jho™d. tut ,««l'.o b. ,°7." i' The Last of Chicksanda ... ars foudws me L if'ieT^r "."^""^ «^«' ''"^ ano«. 'Tis well vl *" °' ^""^ acquaint- success rf yoi t " :f^ "** *«" •»« ^hat the wind) tillTou arnve a/ "S/^Vn'^f '"' "^ sister in earnest- » =-» ^oan. I p,ty yo„ ladj; butTu a ' h ? ''''^'*" ^ ^«^°«"»« <» «o J- , uui you are beaten to it anH »f n„ii u you, now you are a conductor to 1^^^'°' valour and keep your compaT[; heaS Jk" do you think of coming baVk IZ.Tj '"'" ing that before yon 2>^tl^^ ^ ^ *'» '^^' You will not take U iS^hff f^'''.-'°''™«y'« end. «H>n. InthemSiti^*T,?^*'^''«'t''J>ouldbe you give me. K told 'i'T''^ *" *^« ""«> In earnest, they do mt ^°" ^ «« *« bed late? faulty in that Mint u '^f ,^'^- I We been a goo'd whiL S wl^Hver^'^r '"' '^^ ing o' niirhts • w ■ ^ i ^®' ^*^ "7 »«ad- wifhout f and 'dsa r "'!,.'^^*^« ' '^"-ot live yours/^ifetiT^^ r.'"^ ^'»P»»y but yet I am not given to it in any ex- 276 Love Letters from Dorothy Osborne cess now; I have been very much more. 'Tis Jane, I know, tells aU these tales of me. I shall be even with her some time or other, but for the present I long for her with some impatience, that she may tell me all you have told her. Never trust me if I had not a suspicion from the first that 'twas that ill-looked fellow B who made that story Mr. D told you. That which gave me the first inclination to that belief was the circumstance you told me of their seeing me at St. Gregory's. For I remembered to have seen B there, and had occasion to look up into the gaUery where he sat, to answer a very civil salute given me from thence by Mr. Free- man, and saw B in a great whisper with an- other that sat next him, and pointing to me. If ^'■- 1* had not been so nice in discovering his name, you would quickly have been cured of your jealousy. Never beUeve I have a servant that I do not tell you of as soon as I know it my- self. As, for example, my brother Peyton has sent to me, for a countryman of his. Sir John Tufton,— he married one of my Lady Wotton's heirs, who is lately dead,— and to invite me to think of it. Besides his person and his fortune, without exception, he tells me what an excellent husband he was to this lady that's dead, who was but a crooked, ill-favoured woman, only she brought him £1500 a year. I teU him I believe ^^'»tand» — -*» 277 ^wi/e can be no argT^ent t„ n T'^ ^ ^"' he had loved ier Th^ n.7.?"'^' ""^ >• ^«>' « hope he should TovTanoth^ * '"^ do, I cannot -jbod^ should thlt hlmi 'r;" " ^ -p«<" l«^e her, I have less te^.^ f** '^ ^^ ^^'^ ^^o* do not 4re C dTvi^ed IS'V''""^*' "»«• ^ «' "one, at least tie fli^' I must have aU James, I have broke his /'"" '" ''■ ^^^ you to hear what Ld -> . ^^^ *'^'"^d pity but that heit^r trcrto'r^r.' ^^^ •^dyj but mJCLT '°?^ it « dead -d so is no neJrto " jlTr ^^^^^ you all I hear: wWoh fh^' , ^ «^»" he sending living a. Ido y;?;!^''"^^^' -^^^^^ into Ireland. I would hL« ^. *^*° '^«"*»«m you are there, Tm^^^^ ^'''' ^^^^^ ^^OBt «"ough to tempt you to s^ ^'"'"'' ''"* »«» than your father and ^ ;f '^-"^ ""i""** l«ng«r ^i-' I have aLdy^rnLrr '''"^"^-• your journey, and begiX fin/r "^ '^''™ ^^ -et::i^/tsH^-^;s/:- -thatrshaiibet;;rrtur-^s f ill: J k: I 2^8 Zove LetterB from Dorothy Oibonu person u much or more than ,•» »ot give me that cSen^ ^TiT^f'T rather increases my doubts, u^a tT ^' your fortune alone Lhertt'^n u""* *''"^' joined with it. T^tTwm h^r*"" '*^* "'°« '" good as to overZelfmy'^"""'^^'^ endeavour to mend my own Jt Zl '".'■'^'^ to deserve it, maybe better Jr/J' "'"^'"^ you panion ie that I ^ Sced^ fr^"*' -'» soon ? The nexf .i,.iiT V "* ^®*^* y®" «> never uZ^'ZlTj' ^•'"^'' *''«"^'^ ^ ^ Touts, ^P romy, wio wiU now forbear to pity „ , JfaroA the 18th, 1664 pinS'tZ I ^^I^tetion of some one hap- pmess that e propose to ourselves, »n age i I!! '^'^ LamdB flocks like iii-bodifg rnvr^ir *"' ''^"^ •» gone but (as if that hIh . Z ^^''^ no sooner the best fither n Le toriJ •^V"°"^''> ^ '-' hin«elf, it was an ^fi„L ^e^l"!*^^*''. «« to to take hin. out of aToridTa " 1:^'™'^'^*^ to none, and was mJL ""** *^° ^ P'easing -ny inW.itres"traf :err:r *° ^-'^ ^' It is an affliction muchl^^t^u ^"' ^^* *« ">« it. Besides aU that is^r'':'^'"'P«'P'«J"%e inen,ory of niany Sore than' '^•"*'"™ ''"'^ *^« received from him hi 1 '^"''"■y) ^'•*• - ^ " t» be'maSi^r^ St el^rr^™"'^."^'*'''^' ill-natured man ttk Zir' °°" **!"* before he ha. had me i tw ♦K * "" "* '''*'' contempt, and believe make it Zr, T ^ ^' ™*''® '* "° quarrel; I rcrvr;'"^'"*^*''"^*^^^--^-":; I am to spend this next week in taking leave The Leut of CAieksandt S8S of this country, and all the company in't, perhapa never to see it more. From hence I moat go into Northamptonshire to my Lady Ruthin, and •o to London, where I shall find my aunt and mj brother Peyton, betwixt whom I think to divide this summer. Nothing has happened since yon went worth your knowledge. My Lord Marquis Hertford has lost his son, my Lord Beauchamp, who haa left a fine young widow. In earnest, 'tis great pity ; at the rate of our young nobility he was an extraordinary person, and remarkable for an excellent husband. My Lord Cambden, too, has fought with Mr. Stafford, but there's no harm done. You may discern the haste I'm in by my writing. There will come a time for a long letter again, but there will never come any wherein I shall not be Tonn. [Sealed with black wax, and directed] For Mr. William Temple, at Sir John Temple's home in Damask Street, Dublin. Thus Dorotiiv leaves Chicksands, her last words from her old home to Temple breathing her love and affection for him. It is no great sorrow at the moment to leave Chicksands, for iS sse ^ I^> fr» ap«- 'W' -that my S* '"**»«'• bj hit ^ II 1 1 111 Mt, OHAPTEB VI VISrnHQ. 3U1HI1B 1664 dated Ireland, May 18 1654 it i.!^^ gttej, or „thir «, W' le'S wh'Lh"we't;,°S to, and by wme good chance it has lor^'^ mX ^ ■*■* °' Dorothy, letters It ^ I SS^ ih^«T> "fif^v^" »»» characters a wIutATS* ^Z" *?• ^*^« ''«'' ardent and Jitter 8T.-Letter of Sir William Temple. May 18tA, 1664. For God's si^e write constantly while I am here, or I am nndone past all reooveiy. I have lived Tl i!? «^««- since J came, but had thrived much better had they been longer. Unless von ml *^; ' 288 Love Letters from Dorothy Oahome oa^e to undertake a journey to England. The neard not from you this nost Pnf i- ,7 silence he should suspect all waa not ikdy to be ^weitriirf"'''^'*'"^- He remembered wo well the letters I writ upon our last unhannv such another occasion. But, withal, he told me tent >,h ch he could remedy ; that if yon desired my coming over, and I could not be content much "J '•' r '' °°* '''^''- -«' *-?h he veTy much desired my company a month or 7wJ longer and that in that time 'twas very LlV I might have his as well. ^ ^ ' Now, in very good earnest, do you think 'ti« time for me to come or no? Would you J^ ve l glad to see me there, and could you do it in Ie2 I ask yon these questions very seriously; but Vititing ggg yet how willingly wonld I venture all to be with you. I know you love me stiU; you promised me, and that's all the security I can have in this world. 'Tis that which makes all things else seem nothing to it, so high it sets me; and so high, mdeed, that should I ever fall 'twould dash me all to pieces. Methinks your very charity should make you love me more now than ever, by seeing me so much more unhappy than I used by being so much farther from you, for that is all the measure ci-n be taken of my good or ill condition. Justice, I am sure, wiU oblige you to It, since you have no other means left in the world of rewarding such a paasion as mine, which, sure, is of a much richer value than any- thing in the world besides. Should you save my life again, should you make me absolute master of your fortune and your person too, I should ac- cept none of all this in any part of payment, but look upon you as one behindhand with me still. Tis no vanity this, but a true sense of how pure and how refined a nature my passion is, which none can ever know except my own heart, unless you find it out by being there. How hard it is to think of ending when I am writing to you; but it must be so, and I must ever be subject to other people's occasions, and so never, I think, master of my own. This is too true, both in respect of this fellow's post that S90 li 4 I^e Letters from Dorothy Oahorne would anAbuK«\': j,''"* f •»^.- command me ev«r »f ^^ • . "* ^o" ™ay had resolved tlrjL tSh^,'' " T"' ^ "•y father the slip forThaTlS* "kTv" me still of a h«u *• r^ caution. Ho telis Tours. byrrextShT^^'te'^lte'^-^r*^ ^"™' he, I have been so ZZZ^I^"^ «P"«« *« prot^y'w iTh'^Elr ^T '" ^."^«-. "t-^yi"? before ^ one who w«?ot ^*'™ *^« mentioned a husbanrorher than Te^U"*^?.*°fl"d her against the Protestor in Jhlv^^^- ?^ *^« j'ot cEester is said To be Jn-^"^^ "^ ^""^ «^ ^or- ° "^ engaged, an account is given ( vt Visiting gnj in connection with Letter 59 • th»f i. «~^ • anything whici ideS K-wLTs^^I^I ments, wm tfe wifeof Wil£ T^^i^^*'""^ daughter of the EaZfsSZi^l^JSsK country house was Motesfont or MottiXt Sv«7'>,-° ^'""P'hire, "which the Sg hS scholar, in h^ S.«^Jf A is^XTe ^t estate in Westminster. Colonel Tom Paunt^n^r tion and a name gives us no further k^owkd^^ however, of the scandal to which DoSlf;; hSTl^t"^ and Mistress Witherington find i„f Z-^r^ ^X*^^''' identity that I can whniw u^'**™* Philadelphia (W is not K! 2»2 J^oZetter3fromJ)orothyO,hame This world is composed oftv '* '^.''"^• tions are not at all eqaT for f^! ^ ^ P^P*"" of trouble it aUowr^^sn^n^ *^.^*"""'"* that one may see Z Z^rnlTTS^U'''' alive withfli ti,; • ^ -^ ""*''*«ea to keep us too, I was not very well Ld^t^^ P'*'"?'* VtnHtiff ran to the inhabitants of ( them to life when they see . miss it, it is not strange they half a year long. You 293 it raises when they Greenland, '; and yi expect a night of cannot imagine how kindly I take it th«t you forgave my brother, and let L ^^Tl f w U r„?r ^"^ *" *"^''^'"« unreaso/able 1 wiU .iot oblige you to court a person that has riat r. ' *"^'^ '^^ '^^* whatsoever he do^ me, and that whenever you are moved to think he does you wrong, you will at the same time remember that his sister loves you p^fonaSv and nobly ; that if he values nothing C fortu^^f she despises it, and could love you as muoh ' beggar as she could do a prince ; Jnd sLT^th out quest on love you eternally, but whetWrUh' ter or^/^ tT' ^""^ ^^«*b«' >» »>e the bet- ter or the wor.« I know not. All sorts of differ- ences are natural to me, and that which (if Tw kindness would give you leave) you would tern a weakness in me is nothing but a^easonable d^ trust of my own judgment, which makes me dt sire the approbation of my friends. I Zrht the confidence in my life to presume anything own , and as you very well observe, there are so many that think themselves wise when nothing 1^ 294 Lo^ Letter, from Dorothy Othome -^Z t""tb° ^"i"' '-1 ■» tad, I »„ the Protector. But my LoX/n ? ^^'"'* sav hM ««^ . ."J",^™ of Dorchester, they S a, he LV*^* ^ '"'^« '"d if I w;re al serve my S S 1 °''V«^fi^''« """Bt House wUTha^'^LoT^^^ ^1 M. Sandis eyer^ day unless IZZI, if Visiting 095 went STn^'' ""/ *" **'^"- ^^« ^"* ^««'' "J^e Pa^ntJ^ r. " /"^ " Winchester with Col. Paunton (If you know such a one), and there her husband met her, and because h^d d^ (ho^hit 'twere by accident) thought hSseU obhged to m.ite her to his hou^e butfeven S tSA r'^r^"'"^ ^'^ °° '°°" for it, but that he thought it better than an Inn, or at ea^t a crowded one a. aU in the town w;re now^ cause of the race. But she wa^ so good a coS^ pamon that she would not forsake hfr company So he invited them too, but could prevail S neither^ Only my Lady grew kind^t paing L ^ ' "''^''^ " ^''"^ P'^»''t»° "^"d J- Morten and the rest would have gone she could have been contented to have taken his offer. ThI! rti:^r*"^^p-^^«--'-thc«er ^^TXf^- ^^"^^^ """^ ^"- Witherington: Sir H. Littleton and Mrs. Philadelphia £y who in earnest is a fine woman, such a onr^' oti^w ""'^ '"I' ^''''^ ^«"y Howard, but others that pretend to know more say his ;ourt Z mI \ ' *? countenance a more serious one to Mrs. Howard, her sister-in-law, he not having courage to pretend so openly (as some do) to an ^orlf'p- ''\ ''"* y"" "''^ acquaintance, poor Mr. Heningham, has no luck! He was so fl k ^1 200 Love LttUrtfrom Dorothy O^wme near (as he thought at leaat) manying M». Ger- herd that anybody might have got his whole es- tate in wagers upon't that would have ventured but a reasonable proportion of their own. And now he looks more like an ass than ever he did. She has cast him off most unhandsomely, that's the truth on't, and would have tied him to such cond, lons a« he might have been her skve ivithal, but could never be her husband. Is not K *, f^r **"^ °^ "*''« *«' ^e that never stir abrx^ui ? Nay I had brought me to^lay mo« than all this: that I am marrying myself! And r^Ja?7u°'"r * " *^** '' «^«"W be to my Slflf/°^; ,y°"ldhelookonme,thinkyou, that had pretty Mrs. FretcheviUe ? My comfort «, 1 have not seen him since he was a widower, and never spoke to him in my life. I found mv- Mif so innocent that I never blushed when they told It me. What would I give I could avoid it when people speak of you? In earnest, I do prepare myself all that is possible to hear it spoken of, yet for my life I cannot hear your name without discovering that I am more than ordinarily concerned in't. A blush is the foolish- est thmg that can be, and betrays one more than a red nose does a drunkard ; and yet I would not so wholly have lost them as some women that I know has, as much injury as they do me I can aasure you now that I shaU be here a fortnight longer (they teU me no lodmsr nnon ^ner); but when I have his leave I go into Suffolk for a month, and then come hithef a^S to go mto Kent, where I intend to bury mywU ahye agam a. I did in Bedfordahire. uml^™" caU me out and tell me I may be ha^p^^" Son H tr' ^PP*°' '*^°"^*» ^ W before I Bhou d behevo 'twas meant for me in 4,.est, or that 'twas other than a dream. To say truth. I do not love to think on't, I find so maJy things to fear and so few to hope. 'Tis better telling you that I wiU send my let. to« where you direct, that they shaU be as long at f.ny time you miss of one, I give you leave to magine « many kind things af you pleS, Ld tobehevelmeanthemaUtoyou: *^ ' *"*' Farewell. n^^!,^^^TJ^ '"■ * ^^*"e astonishing to read la It^i»S. . ^^™S Ontdem or ik thrPark «d prool.n.ti„.. I, I, „/, u„„j ^^f^ 298 Zow Lettert from Dorothy Oiiome amuaementi, another to abolish them The flr.» w« undoubtedly done, but we donbUf there w« 11/ .*°y l°?«^ntinned effort to do the 1m?' Zom" ^^^11^' P*'* «' Cromwell's reL the S^S iL^Jt l'"^^^ regul»tion.*^thS ^^ It, must have almost entirely disap- n/™iS^ Gardens seems at one time to have had no very good reputation. Lady Alice Han,«tt wntinjir m 1644, tells us that "sL1i?„, wm thl^TV^u^'^'O'' to "Pe^'k of me M I kn^w ^^tt'^LTr' '^f >'"'"«1> I loved 4eU to •ee plays, and to walk in the Sprint Gardens rSe Z^^^" 't grew something fcandSoS inree tunes that ever I went with any man be- sides my brother." However, fa*hio£sXnm not ^dV'^r ??'' 'e'PeoteWe. or we shoSS not find Dorothy there. Spring Gardens wa* enclosed and laid out towa^ the end of Th" sTiFbf i'T"' '• The clump of houses wh oh K«f r^ tolerable exactness. Evelyn tells ?eOO andT?Ih fK-V"PA^" SP"»« Gardens^ the Tl^f -.J.-^ • *^'?H ^''^y ^«'"« Closed until allow no^..!""; "* ^^^^ «""^' ">'*"«•• '^e may a low Dorothy to correct him. The fact of the Dor^h v'^f ^"^"'"^ ^'^ o'o^od may aSou^t fSr waraens. Knight also quotes at second hana traX s:*"' ^r"^^*'-''«°«' -^^^^^^^ inai the author is unknown to him. This aunt/ Uon IS, however, from one of Somers' TiXet Vititing jjg 1669." The FwMhZn „ u '^'"*" "' F™'"^. — mvM 11. .,t/K -^ tn^ljsh satirist in dimruiao and bean, upon the subiS T h. ""''^'■'? ^'^^^ in quoting it7t length i!^' ^"^^ "° hesiution <»UlHyde°Paiithe"nTZ«*!.^!"^-^-'''^^^^ coaches, as, next to a rfX, ^ ^^^ *"*' hackney is nothing' appro^hes ^h„ * °' 'l^r^^"' '''«« Park WM if i!r , "^ resemblance. Th« nobmty'^or* thTfUfess'Vf V'^ • ^'"^ "^ goodly prospect, but it L th=. *''M"' *"*^ ^^e sides all other er«L.o?*u* ^''"'^ "o^ (be- England, £gh It Ttll^ I^^.k'"' ^*'~ '^ side; every coich and h„^ 'u*/^ *•>« '^OfW be- his mouthful an^ .^rmf "® '^j"*''* ^"ters buying guarded with portereLdlo^^ f" ^"'""'°«' « "The mnnn^ •,'*''& Stages. stop at trsprin^'hrj'*" """P*"/ '«t«™«. to the Park as oSr "A 77^^"" ?° "^^'^^l' in orde^ to inclosure '^^1^3^: foVth*'^ f'""**' ^^^ the groves, the Sing of the bird^^r*' "?^ opens into the spaciofs walks of Vt *" '* wo /d'SffihTjaV" " ^' '-^^ -'« - P tas ^n^^:^^^'t^-:!^-z:u±, '■ I I I 84)0 •t said upon it broke it off ' ?t°'^"'^ J^^** ^"s Eestor^ion she thought tit ^rd f'F^«> made not those rAtnrn! T, ™ Lauderdale lAdyDys^an^T^fi?^^'.*"** ^'^'^ afterwards 8he^haySJar,J,i«'*i^''"^?'"'*^« '^^^ married lit'spt,r:irda'^;°J^W to take one of I n, "S,™S ',"P"«;°«1 tl"™- He m» ii I 306 Xo«« Letters from Dorothy Osh «t'*'nely It And r'** \°" ^^'"^ "'«• That I would tHink It. But I am called upon. How fain I would say more; yet 'tis all but the ^ZJZh more circumstance than I am ^ [Directed.] For your master. ^*'"^ Z« o»j ^ senoe is misfortune enough, but I dar« w !, »e myself that it wi/coie ou« andT« more my belief that you yourself s^ak'it «ther to ^courage me, and to your wisS. tl'^y'^:; ^7 humour is so ill at present, that I dare sav no more lest you chide me again. I find mv^U fit or nothing but to conveiTwith a liy ^^^ that IS fallen out with all the world because W husband and she cannot airree 'T,\rth i an^t thing that can beThear L" ^^^^ She takes great pains to dissuade mo froTe^r "anymg, and says I am the veriest f^ Zt ever hved if I do not take her couns^ NoVwe do not absolutely agree in that poinCbut ! Vititififf gjj aoou^ of maintaining opinions very de.tructiv« of .ocietj, and absolutely prejudickl to^ Ik she calls out me to be her second, and by Uhw lost mo the favour of all our youn*• TT« I, . ■ '" ^*"' ''^ SO good-natured ? Z ^r^ *° '^y *™*''' '^"t without rZn but aU the people that ever I saw. I do n^J ftostond and the most imperious in the world Too mmt gi„ „, ,„„ ^ Visiting 819 I have another ttory for yon. You little think I have been with Lilly, and, in earnest, I was, the day before I oame out of town ; and what do you think I went for ? Not to know when you would come home, I can assure you, nor for any other occasion of my own ; but with a cousin of mine that had long designed to make herself sport with him, and did not miss of her aim. I confess I always thought him an impostor, but I could never have imagined him so simple a one as we found him. In my life I never heard so ridiculous a discourse as he made us, and no old woman who passes for a witch could have been more puzzled to seek what to say to reasonable people than he was. He asked us more questions than we did him, and caught at everything we said without discerning that we abuseid him and said things purposely to confound him; which we did so perfectly that we made him contradict himself the strangest that ever you saw. Ever since this adventure, I have had so great a belief in all things of this nature, that I could not for- bear laying a peas-cod with nine peas in't under my door yesterday, and was informed by it that my husband's name should be Thomas. How do you like that? But what Thomas, I cannot imagine, for all the servants I have got since I came hither I know none of that name. Here is a new song,— I do not send it to yon 3ao L(»>e Letter B from Dorothy Od>om6 . -^^««— " The Lost Ladv " ia « f«i„-^ ^ by Sir William BerkX ««^^- 1 t«^-a>medy -old at t™op of S; H^iJ't'"^?^'^ *« »« 1639, which we may take T^\l ^^u I" *^« y«" its pibUcation DoroJht ,^ Probable date of the'heroi^e We °n iSf,J[°"^u P^*^ Hennione, .pnpathetic aIriS.rfc2\s''thr^« "'"> Miirt be my ^^ *""* "-k" «•«•«. !»»,, beiE'Aarg5''Se"^!°^hr I>o«.thy refers as ^ves the followig'^Sntlf Sr^T^S the maJt^^^the 'dav' tt '' ^ '"-tStivS quoted at length •_ *^' ^''^ '^"''t " ^ere two or threl otheS ZtTr ^.T*^^'" «"«» Gerard, an EnS L„*fi "''*'°° J^'*^^ ^^^ Mr. fell nnin • h,,t h! k^""^"*°' ^'"o™ tbey all handsCone Mr ln^r"uir^i:"' ''"^ «' ^l^eir and within an horn, -ft '.**'^J' '^"''^'^ *>»me, twelve more of theTr nlnL'**"™"? ^'**' »l»"t plates and bl*XTS' Xl w^o't'^ Vititing 321 houni taken there, not finding Anstrnther, they went home again for that night. "November 22.— At night the ambassador's brother and the rest retnmed again, and walking tlie upper Exchange, they met with one CoL Mayo, who, being a proper man, they supposed him to have been the same Anstrnther that re- pelled them the night before; and so shooting off a pistol (which was as the watchword), the rest of the Portugals (supposed about fifty) came in with drawn swords, and leaving a suflBcient number to keep the stairs, the rest went up with the ambassador's brother, and there they fell upon Col. Mayo, who, very gallantly defending himself, received seven dangerocs wounds, ana lies in a mortal condition. They fell also upon one Mr. Greenway, of Lincoln's Inn, as he was walking with his sister in one hand and his mis- tress in the other (to whom, as I am informed, he was to have been married on Tuesday next), and pistoled him in the head, whereof ie died immediately. They brought with them several ea,rthen Jars stufiFed with gunpowder, stopped with wax, and fitted with matches, intending, it seems, to have done some mischief to the Ex- change that they .Tiight complete their revenge, but they were prevented." There is an account of their trial in the State Trials, of some interest to lawyers ; it resulted in the execution of Don Pantaleon Sa and four of his servants. By one of those curious fateful coincidences, with which fact often outbids fiction, Mr. Gerard, who waa the first English- man attacked by the Portuguese, suffers on the i Ti plotter, i.alS,e^„^^Ji-Jo;;^el, the other the same house whflm t i ^"f *• S« was in «««t fMoy ThS^ " ^^' ''"'^ I had taken a «o pleased that CjerSt T' ''""'"' *°«' ^" 'or him, that, tio^t^'S^nt w^ri tu t*" nnoertain, vet nrJvn ft, ^ ^^^ " I told him, '««edi^ or tSL .^ '*'" ^"P"" ">•''* J»«^ «et him notat^^ 7*""°'"' ^"^ I "hall worse of hi^ tor ^±,T, "°* '^^^ »* »" the JittletooJ.rinTotSttLonta^'' ;ssj:r^"i£is-^^^-- ewary that whereat t *".•** *^^°**^y "~- "com'pense the i'U ""Sf* ^''^^ '*" ble pe«on in the world ^ hJf T* "«»*«"•?«- justly hated and th« . ^"^ *^''*' ^^n"* be it cannot decern t^T ^o^^demble without had aU that Si^t JL *^- ^°"^'* *« «°<1 1 too much of, UoZ&Z T '^"'P^"" y°" '•'^-e on't amongst Celf ^l ^^' T "«^^ *« dispose well where itKnd I^h 7. '"""*'' ''°* '*" more on't thalT;^ ^°"" '^''« '^ Jon Vinting 393 I wonder with what confidence you can com- plain of my short letters that are so guilty your- self in the same kind. I have not seen a letter this month which has been above half a sheet. Never trust me if I write more than yon that live in a desolated country where you might finish a romance of ten tomes before anybody in- terrupted you— I that Uve in a house the most filled of any since the Ark, and where, I can as- sure [you], one has hardly time for the most nec- essary occasions. Well, there was never any one thing so much desired and apprehended at the same time as your return is by me; it will cer- tainly, I think, conclude me a very happy or a most unfortunate person. Sometimes, methinks, I would fain know my doom whatever it be ; and at others, I dread it so extremely, that I am con- fident the five Portngals and the three plotters which were t'other day condemned by the High Court of Justice had not half my fears upon them. I leave you to judge the constraint I Uve m, what alarms my thoughts give me, and yet how unconcerned this company requires I should be; they will have me at my part in a play "The Lost Lady" it is, and I am she. Pray God it be not an ill omen ! I shall lose my eyes and you this letter if I make it longer. Farewell. I am, yours. 824 r ■Cow LetUrt from Dorothy Otbomt th.^.h"i^?^^^''|Q««» of Bohemia, w« tor Fn^erii, who w J J««"i!r*'^J''«^ owing to hi. d,.7^ndnot !^d^?? *^.»''~- wife was forced tore^ .nH r *°^^' ^^^ ^i. in her native^untS^h? 1 ««"? "P^^^OM' «ifted in . .„ Jli-l/J- ""^ w «"d. to have been ,dLlr?^«^?'?."''<'ha«cten at the Hainie. wh«« X. -^ "J*® went to live W,ion.!!^U iTI K^T?,^*"".*" **"• K* Wilijam, EarlrfCreven £?r*K*^*>« ""ried thi/He^wii. ho^ ' ?"* *'*«™ " no proof of through heT^eJ^'^ofw'ii"'".^'"* <»^A'^l in 1661. She is saW ti k.* '''®J**""«^ *o live literature, and FraTck O^IT "^^^ » ^°^" of Wotton were her fnthnS!^^ S""* ^^ Henry has writtenlomY JuSln^tl^t^^ ^**«' his mistress; the list ve«« <« ^l l'"^ to trophizes her as T^,2^ZSu *" '?T It runs thus : ' Poon^arly graceful Ton mMoer b«.ntie« ot ♦».« aW,t ^ oommon people of &« suST^ Whrt are yon when the mn^i rt», Yititing m S^u" J'-.u*° °««ot»t« ^th General Monk. Monk g brother was vicar of Kelkha^lpto^^ lo that Grenvile and Monk wonld in aU probabUitr be weU acquainted before the time of the negotii tion. We may remember, too, that Dorothy's yonnwr brother was on intimate term, with Gen- eral Monk's relations m Cornwall. There most be letters missing here, for we can- not believe more than a month paued without Dorothy writing a single letter. I woin>XB you did not come before your last letter. 'Twas dated the 24th of Auguot, but I received it not till the Ist of September. "Would to God your journey wei-eover! Every little storm of wind frights me so, that I pass here for the greatest coward that ever waa bom, though, in earnest, I think I am as little so as most women, yet I may be deceived, too, for now I re- member me you have often told me I was one, and, sure, you know what kind of heart mine is better than anybody else. I am glad you are pleased with that description I made you of my humour, for, though you had disliked it, I am afraid 'tis paat my power to help. You need not make excuses neither for yours ; no other would please me half so well. That gaiety which you say is only esteemed would be insupportable to me, and I can as little endure a tongue that'? always in motion 94 I could th^ [ir 826 Zovt LetUn from Dorothy OOomt oliok of a miU. Of aU the company thii place ia ■tored with, then is bat two penons whoM oon- vemtion ig at aU eaay ; one it my eldeit niece, who, ture, wai sent into the world to ihow 'tia poMible for a woman to be ailent; the other, a jfentleman whoM miftrast died jut when they should have married ; and though 'tis many yean since, one may read it in his face stiU. His hu- mour was very good, I believe, before that acci- dent, for he will yet say things pleasant enough, but tis so seldom that he spealcs at aU, and when he does 'tis with so sober a look, that one may see he IS not moved at aU himself when he diverts the company most. You wiU not be jealous though I say I like him very muoL If you were not secure in me, you might be so in him. He would expect his mistress should rise again to re- proach his inconstancy if he made court to any- thing but her memory. Methinks we three (that is, my niece, and he and I) do become this house the worst that can be, unless I should take into the number my brother Peyton himself too; for to say truth his, for another sort of melancholy, is not less than ours. "W at can you imagine we did this last week, when to our constant company there was added a colonel and his lady, a son of his and two daughters, a maid of honour to the Queen of Bohemia, and another colonel or a nwr jor, I know not which, besides all the tongue they toonght with them ; the men the greatest drink- I?th mln. ""•^^•"l' did not at all agree mth my brother, who would not be drawn to it to save a kingdom if it lay at stake and no other way to redeem it? Bnt, in earnest, there was one mo,« to be pitied besides us, and that was Colonel ThomhiU's wife, as prettyayoungwom,!^ a. I have seen. She is Sir John Green vil', si^ of beauty and modesty, and wit enough. This innocent cr^ture is sacrificed to the veriest beast ?!» 7^' T"- "^^^ ^"^ '^"y '^'> ««™« hither he intended, it seems, to have come with her, but by the way caUed in to see an old acquaintance, and bid her go on, he would overtake her, but did not come tiU next night, and then so drunk he was led immediately to bed, whither she was to fol- low him when she had supped. I blest myself at her patience as you may do that I could find anything to fill up this paper withaL Adieu. th^f^ '?•— ^"^ *>>» wa-ap of writing we find Ph^?^ * „ 5?" ***'^"' and ready to discuss Peytor&^°~*''y •*"'•"'' '*' ^»t »>«' bS reyton. The few remaining letters deal with the treaty Temple would probably returTto London when he Wt Irelancfajid lett^ ^uld pass frequently between them. There WTo tave been some hitch as to who should ap^r S 8M l-'-l r;'?i Zove Lut*ri from DonOhy OOornt that he ia reoonoilad to t.h. ».-«5r_? ^'' "?"' that h. i»r^^ii^'!;^;^f^^^;^"£^^^^ leMt formjiUjr in the ^±7."^ Kent, to P.yt<;nXS»; A k I DID so promiae mjuiU « letter on Friday that iZ 1'7 "^ ^ '^^ '* '«'*' *''°°«'> I know you were not come to town when it should have lien rS-J? i '"**^°" **" "•y*"' ■ho«»ld not •toy above a day or two? What i. it that ha. kept you longer? I am pleased, though, that ^ .k"L°°.* *" *^' I*""" «' "» ""•""tain Uungs u the wte«to and the sea, which I never fZS ^on^w^lf fl ^* '"'* *^*"""*'^ apprehend for you. You wm And a packet of lette« to read, and maybe have met with them already. If von .Cir" "* «> ^ that 'tis but risonable I should spare you in this. For, [to] say truth I ^ve not time to malce this lon^ir / bedd« Sat t Tvilf ^J ' *'''"'' ' ^ *"' ■""* I """-ot read LTitl" ii^°"' ^^~ *" '^**«'' yo" '^Ul find that I mtended to assure you I am YOUHL £«tter99. I AV bat newly waked ont of an nnqniet deep^ and I find it •© late that if I write at all it mart be now. Some company that waa here last ni^t kept oa np till three o'clock, and then we Uj three in a bed, which waa aU the lame to me aa if we had not gone to bed at alL Since dinner they are all gone, and onr company with them part of the way, and with much ado I got to be ezonsed, that I might recover a little sleep, but am so moped yet that, sure, this letter will be nonsense. I would fain tell yon, though, that your father ia mistaken, and that you are not, if you beliere that I have all the kindness and tenderness for yon my heart is capable of. Let me assure you (whate'er your father thinks) that had yon £20,000 a year I could love yon no more than I do, and should be far from showing it so much lest it should look like a desire of your fortune, which, as to myself, I value as little aa anybody in the world, and in this age of changes; but certainly I know what an estate is. I have seen my fa- ther's reduced, better than £4000, to not £400 a year, and I thank God I never felt the change in anything that I thought necessary. I never wanted, nor am confident I never shall. But yet, I would not be thought so inconsiderate a person as not to remember that it is expected from all :! ,:,i 880 Love LetUrt from Dwothy O*hom» people that have sense that they ahonld act with reason, that to all persons some proportion of fortune is necessary, according to their several qnalities, and though it is not required that one should tie oneself to just so much, and something is left for one's inclination, and the difference in the persons to make, yet still within such a com- pass,— and such as lay more upon these considera- tions than they will bear, shall infallibly be con- demned by all sober persons. If any accident out of my power should bring me to necessity though never so great, I should not doubt with God's assistance but to bear it as well as any- body, and I should never be ashamed on't if He pleased to send it me ; but if by my own folly I had put it upon myself the case would be ex- tremely altei«d. If ever this comes to a treaty, I shall declare that in my own choice I prefer you much before any other person in the world, and all that this inclination in me (in the judg- ment of any persons of honour and discretion) will bear, I shall desire may be laid upon it to the uttermost of what they can allow. And if your fether please to make up the rest, I know nothing that is like to hinder me from being yours. But if your father, out of humour, shall refuse to treat with such friends as I have, let them be what they will, it must- end here ; for though I was content, for your sake, to lose them, m Vuiting they had SSI and all the respect have done that, I'll never let them see that I have so little interest in yoa and yours as not to prevaU that my brother may be admitted to treat for me. Sure, when a thing of course and so much reason as that (unless I did disclose to all the world he were my enemy), it must be ex- pected whensoever I dispose of myself he should be made no stranger to it. When that shaU be refused me, I may be justly reproached that I deceived myself when I expected to be at aU valued in a family that I am a stranger to, or that I should be considered with any respect be- cause I had a kindness for you, that made me not value my own interests. I doubt much whether aU this be sense or not ; I find my head so heavy. But that which I would say is, in short, this: if I did say once that my brother should have nothing to do in't, 'twas when his carriage towards me gave me such an occasion as could justify the keeping that distance with him ; but now it would look extremely unhandsome in me, and, sure, I hope your father would not require it of me. If he does, I must conclude he has no value for me, and, sure, I never disobliged him to my knowl- edge, and should, with all the willingness imagi- nable, serve him if it lay in my power. Good God 1 what an unhappy person am I. 888 Love Lettera from Dorothy Oabomt All the world is so almost Just now they are telling me of a gentleman near as that is the most wretched creature made (by the loss of a wife that he passionately loved) that can be. If your father would but in some measure satisfy my friends that I might but do it in any justifi- able manner, you should dispose me as yon pleased, carry me whither you would, all places of the world would be alike to me where you were, and I should not despair of carrying my- self so towards him as might deserve a better opinion from him. I amyous. Zetter 10. Ht doubts and fears were not at all increased by that which gives you so many, nor did I ap- prehend that your father might not have been prevailed with to have allowed my brother's being seen in the treaty ; for as to the thing it- self, whether he appears in't or not, 'twill be the same. He cannot but conclude my brother Pey- ton would not do anything in it without the others' consent. I do not pretend to any share in your father's kindness, as having nothing in me to merit it; but as much a stranger as I am to him, I should have taken it very ill if I had desired it of him, and he had refused it me. I do not believe my Visiting 888 brother has said anything to his prejudice, unless it were in his persuasions to me, and there it did not injure him at aU. If he takes it ill that my brother appears so very averse to the match, I may do so too, that he was the same ; and noth- ing less than my kindness for you could have made me take so patiently as I did his saying to some that knew me at York that he was forced to bring you thither and afterwards to send you over lest you should have married me. This was not much to my advantage, nor hardly civil, I think, to any woman; yet I never so much as took the least notice on't, nor had not now, but for this occasion ; yet, sure, it concerns me to be at least as nice as he in point of honour. I think 'tis best for me to end here lest my anger should make me lose that respect I would always have for yonr father, and 'twere not amiss, I think, that I devoted it all towards you for being so idle as to run out of your bed to oaitch such a cold. If yon come hither you must expect to be chidden so much that you will wish that yon had stayed till we came up, when perhaps I might have almost forgot half my quarrel to you. At this present I can assure yon I am pleased with nobody but your sister, and her I love extremely, and will call her pretty ; say what you will, I know she must be so, though I never saw more of 834 Love Letters from Dorothy Oibome 11 her than what her letters show. She shall have two " spots " [carriage dogs] if she please (for I had jnst saoh another given me after yon were gone), or anything else that is in the power of Youri. Letter 71. Monday, OeUAer the 2nd [1664]. Aftbe a long debate with myself how to sat- isfy you and remove that rook (as you call it), which in your apprehensions is of so great danger, I am at last resolved to let you see that I value your affections for me at as high a rate as you yourself can set it, and that you cannot have more of tenderness for me and my interests than I sLaU ever have for yours. The particulars how I intend to make this good you shaU know when I see you i which since I find them here more irresolute in point of time (though not as to the journey itself) than I hoped they would have been, notwithstanding your quarrel to me, and the apprehension you would make me believe you had that I do not care to see you, pray come hither and try whether yon shall be welcome or not I In sober earnest now I must speak with you; and to that end if your occasions will [serve] come down to Canterbury. Send some one when you are there, and you shall have further directions. Visiting 335 Ton must be contented not to stay hen above two or three hours. I shaU teU you my reason when you come. And pray inform yourself of aU that your father will do on this ooc«ion, that yon may teU it me only; therefore let it be plainly and smcerely what he intends and aU. I wiU not hinder your coming away so much as the makmg this letter a Uttle longer might take away from your time in reading it Tis enough to tell you I am ever Toms. if ' i CHAPTEB Vn THE SSD OF THE THIBD VOLUXB *v'''f^j ■?'°'* '*"®' °' "o*^ w" written, I Uunk,dunnK a visit to London after the formal oetrotlial and before the marriage. These notes were evidently written upon the trivial occasions ox the day, more perhaps for the sake of writing ■omettaii^ than for any more serious reason. The note m French is somewhat of a curiosity on ao- oonnt of Its quaint orthography, which is pur- posely left uncorrected. WasDorothy in London to purchase her trowseau t Where did she and Jane spend their days, if that was the case, when Kegent Street was green fields ? These questions rannot be satisfactorily answered ; but the notes themselves, without any history or explanation, are so full of interest, so fresh and vivacious, even for Dorothy, that they place themselvw from the freedom and joy of their style and man- ner at the end of the third volume. You are like to have an excellent housewife of me ; I am abed still, and slept so soundly, nothing but your letter could have waked me. You shall hear from me as soon as we have dined. Fare- well ; can yon endure that word ? No, out npon't 111 see you anon. TAe End of the Third Volume 887 Ftb upon't I shaU grow too good now, I am taking care to know how your worship slept to- night; better I hope than you did the last. Send me word how you do, and don't put me off with a bit of a note now ; you could write me a fine long letter when I did not demrve it half so well Ton are mistaken if you think I am in debt for both these days. Saturday I confess was devoted to my Lady ; but yesterday, though I ris with good intentions of going to church, my cold would not suffer me, but kept me prisoner all the day. I went to your lodging to tell you that VMiting the sick was part of the work of the day, but you were gone, and so I went to bed again, where your letter found me this morning. But now I will rise and despatch some visits that I owe^ that to-morrow may be entirely yours. I FIND my conscience a little troubled till I have asked your pardon for my ill-humour last night. Will you forgive it me; in earnest, I could not help it, but I met with a cure for it ; my brother kept me up to hear his learned lecture till after two o'clock, and I q>ent aU my ill-humour upon him, and yet we parted very quietly, and look'd as if a little good fortune might make us good friends; but your special friaid, my elder brother, 888 Low L«tUr» from Dorothy Otbomt I have a stoiy to tell yon of him. Will my ooiuin F. oomo, think you ? Send me word, it maybe 'tWM a compliment ; if I can see yon thia morning I will, bnt I dare not promise it. SiE,— Thia ia to tell you that yon Trill be ex- pected t>morrow morning about nine o'clock at a lodging over against the place where Charinge Oroaae stood, and two doors above Ye Goate Taveme ; if with these directions you can find it out, yon will there find one that is very much Your servant Now I have got the trick of breaking my word, I shall do it every day. I must go to Boehamp- ton to-day, but 'tis all one, you do not care much for seeing me. Well, my master, remember last night you swaggered like a young lord. I'll make your stomach come down; rise quickly, you had better, and come hither that I may give you a lesson this morning before I go. Jb n'ay guere plus dormie que vous et mes songes n'ont pas estres moins confuse, an rest une bande de violons que sont venu jouer sous ma fennestre, m'ont tourrnentfes de tel fafon que je doubt fort si je pourrois jamais les souflfrire encore, je ne snis pourtant pas en fort manvaise humeur et je m'en-voy ausi tost que je serai 2%« End qf the Third Voiunu 889 habiUte voire ce qu'D eat posible de fain poor TOBtre Mttiifaotion, aprta je Tiendre voni nndre oonte de noa affairs ot quoj qn*!! en lera tou ne •oanroii jamais doabt« que je ne vona avme pins qne tontea lea ohoaea dn monde. I HAVE alept as Uttle as you, and may be al- lowed to talk as unreasonably, yet I find I am not quite senseless; I hare a heart still that can- not resolve to refuse you anything within ita power to grant. But, Lord, when shall I see you ? People will think me mad if I go abroad this morning after having seen me in the condi- tion I was in last night, and they will think it strange to see you here. Could you not stay till they are all gone to Roehampton ? they go this morning. I do but ask, though do what you please, only believe yon do a great injustice if yon think me false. I never resolv'd to give you an eternal farewell, but I resolv'd at the same time to part with aU the comfort of my life, and whether I told it yon or not I shall die yours. Tell me what you will have me do. Hebe comes the note again to tell you I can- not caU on you to-night ; I cannot help it, and you must take it as patiently as you can, but I am engaged to-night at the Three Rings to sup and play. Poor man, I am sorry for you; in 840 I'OM ZetUn/nm DoroOy OOornt ewnMt, I riudl be quite ipoUed. I lee no remedy ; think whether It were not bart to lesve me and begin a new adventnie. And now we have finished. Dorothy Oibopii« SnS;?^*'^/' ''^ •»<>" b" tmiS^ted iSS Sr^rMTP**' ^^i'^. *'"' romanoe^W Tife wi,S^ ^^t'y' ?P<* '"•* booming ae much a ronwnoe to herself, as it seems tJns. tooSiff mose and dream and weave into tales for ^ aI ^%°{''^^^ ^!P «~^ <^«">»>tfnl to w"5 •lie find idle hours for dreaming and donbtinir in ZtJ^r,^^^°L}^'' marriage ceremony, and «?^?i i^f, '«*<>"»« maroh^and happy iinirie rtntan days, at least we may hear the pomnou T^^*^ Prpnonnoe the biasing rf tK^S yet a moment of suspense, a last trial totha lover's constancy. Thrbride is takOTdMJS! SiS^when ttlS^ "^ ""*' the d^«^ the inmost thoughts of our DoroLT Do2 SI ani in'o^ ?" W? '^'T lover.^m he^, Jy! fih« 1 *' *** "f ^'''^ ^"^ ^ *bis new afflict on ? She rues from £er bed, her beautv of f ace d J stPoyed; her fair looki livinT onl? oTtoe painter's canvas, unless we may Believe that th«» were etched in deeply bittenC« on tS. Jl^-i; BO Be to ^e a >S iO- IB le 2^ EndqfiU Third Volume 841 ?hTt:. ^"^ *i* "kin beauty i> Bot the firmest hold h^ntf ♦k''»I*'?P'''» *ff~tioB«; thia WM not the i^hlfnl^*- *'?^ '""*>»«* »"«' Jo'e' and held him enohamed m her service for seven years of waiu leading him through dark days of doubL^jSSt W TJf^rT'^"*' ""''"•"^ in hi, t,Sh to bw. Other beauty not outw^ of which w^ l^h2SV'll'»'^^'^'°«*""&'^'~''3d5r^5 m.„ T *«***".; which we, too, as wellas TemSl may know existed in Dorothy. For it k S!5 tue soul, that made Dorothy to Temnirin w as she was in name,-the gift of GoT'^^^ ^ Appendix LADT TEMPLE ^n,?lr}^I I"??l" *'5»" » ^«»7 little to b« known, and what there in can be b4t andentood ^ foUowing the career of her hnaband, which has been written at aome length, aah with laboured care, by Mr. ConrtenSy.' After her J& 1«68, they Uved for a vear at the home olf a ftiend in the opnntry. They then removed to Ireland, where they Dyed for five yean with Templet, father; £ady Giffard, Temple's wid^ owed sister, joining them. In 1663 they were hving m England. Lady Giffard continued to live with them through the rest of their lives, and survived them both. In 1666 Temple wu ijent to Brussels as English representaUve, and T?/,o¥°"y J**"*"* him in the fcrflowing year. In 1668 he was removed from Brussels to the Hairue. where the successful negotiations which led to o?lJl?P AUiance took place, and these have given him an honourable place in history. There ?»-^^**^f«Sn^^ Temple's, written to her bus- band m 1670, which shows how interested ^ ^ JL ^ P^ ^^ ^K^ P*""'"^ "f«. and how he must have consulted her in all Stat^ matters. 348 IE:'; tt J Apj>&iiditB MS It it Uken from Coortenay'i Life of Sir WiUiam TempU, vol. 1. p. 346. iTe qnotM it u the only letter written after Udy Temple'i marrism which haa oome into fail haW "»^'^"»8« ThkHaove, October ZU' ;-..) My Dearest Heabt,— I received y. i.cm Yarmouth, and was very glad yon mal*) so j .^ ,. • a passage. Tis a comfortable thin^. v at j one is on this side, to know that sach a thin^' _-i bj done in spite of contrary winds. I have a let' t from P., who says in character that you may i ^!> o it from him that the Duke of Buckingham haa begun a negotiation there, but what success in England he may have he knows not; that it were to be wished our politicians at home would consider well that there is no trust to be put in alliances with ambitious kings, especially such as make it their fundamental maxim to be base. These are bold words, but they are his own. Besides this, there is nothing but that the French King grows very thrifty, that all his buildings, except fortifications, are ceased, and that his pay- ments are not so regular as they used to be. The people here are of another mind ; they will not spare their money, but are resolved— at least the States of Holland— if the rest will consent, to raise fom-teen regiments of foot and six of horse ; that all the companies, both old and new, { 1 . 1 . 1 344 Love Letters from Dorothy OOome shall be of 120 men that used to be of 60, and every troop 80 that used to be of 45. Nothine w talked of but these new levies, and the younl men are much pleased. Downton says they have strong suspicions here you wiU come back no more, and that they shall be left in the lurch; that something is striking up with France, and that you are sent away because yon are too well inclined to these countries ; and my cousin Tem- ple, he says, told him that a nephew of Sir Rob- ert Long's, w^o is lately come to Utrecht, told my cousin Temple, three weeks since, you were not to stay long here, because you were too great a fnend to these people, and that he had it from Mr Wdliamson, who knew very weU what he Mid. My cousin Temple says he told it to M. U-.r Scott as soon as he heard it, and so 'tis like you knew It before ; but there is such a want of some- thing to say that I catch at everything. I am my best dear's most affectionate D. T. dJi^tt, """"5'' **' "^1 ^^^^ *X'°"''ed an Jnci- 0«hl™« nH'"'^' us considerably of the Dorothy h/^W '"""r •^*y"- 'f*'" Triple AlUanci rnU^n """* °* '^ freshness, and was not so much m vogue as heretofore. Charles II had fe^.^'lf- Government, throwing off fts mask land. The critical position of atfairs," says Appendix 345 Courtenay, « induced the Dutch to keep a fleet at sea, and the English Government hop«i to draw from that circumstance an occasion of quarrel A yacht was sent for Lady Temple ; the captain had orders to sail through the Dutch fleet if he should meet it, and to fire into the nearest ships until they should either strike sail to the flag which he bore, or return his shot so as to make a quarrel I "He saw nothing of the Dutch Fleet in goinjr over, but on his return he feU in with it and fired, without warning and ceremony, into the ships that were next him. "The Dutch admiral. Van Ghent, was puzzled ; he seemed not to know, and probably did not know, what the English captain meant; he there- fore sent a boat, tlinking it possible that the yacht might be in distress ; when the captain told his orders, mentioning also that he had the am- bassadress on board. Van Ghent himself then came on board, with a handsome compliment to Lady Temple, and, making his personal inquiries of the captain, received the same answer as be- fore. The Dutchman said he had no orders upon the point, which he rightly believed to be still unsettled, and could not believe that the fleet TOmmanded by an admiral, was to strike to the K-ing's pleasure-boat. "When the Admiral returned to his ship, the captain also, 'perplexed enough,' applied to Lady Temple, who soon saw that he desired to get out of his difficulty by her help; but the wife of Sir WiUiam Temple called forth the spirit of Dorothy Osborne. 'He knew,' she told the captain, 'hw 346 Ltme Letters from Dorothy Oabome ,i J oeeaed each upon hu own course and Ijuiv "f^ pie was safely landed in EngSSd •' ^ ^'"' of Sir'?ih"' T "f*"™.* °' *"« "oident in a letter of 8tf Charles Lyttelton to Tisoount Hatton in the Hatton Correspondence. He telk »« ?W Part R,„ ' retirement to Sheen and Mwr S-^ 'T' "^^ ^°°^ nothing distinotiVelv^f Me. They had only two children living h^Z lost as many as seven in their infancT^ In lelf bearto^quote. It is copied from Conrtenay, voL you that I had received all my fine things, whS I have just now done; but I thought never to have done giving you thanks for Sem. tLv have made me so veiy happy in my new clothT Ive'X";^'^ 'I'* ''""^^ does^admii. ttm above all thmgs, but yet not so much as I thi.3^ Appendix 547 they deMTve; and now, if papa was near, I ihoald think my«elf a perfect pope, though I hope I should not be burned as there was one at NeU Gwyn's door the 6th of November, who waa set in a great chair, with a red nose half a yard long with some hundreds of boys throwing squibs at it Monsieur Gore and I agree mighty weU, and he makes me beUeve I shaU come to something at last ; that is if he stays, which I don't doubt but he wiU, because aU the fine ladies will petition for him. We are got rid of the workmen now, and our house is ready to entertain you. Come when you please, and yon wiU meet nobody more glad to see yon than your most obedient and dutiful daughter, D. Temple. wJT^'*'" ^\^°^^ Temple, married in 1685 a nch heiress m France, the daughter of Monsieur ^^? * ^* "^^^ ^ ^« ** ^^ father's hous^ at Sheen. After King William and Queen Mary were actually placed on the throne, Sir William IZf^i «" ^T' ^^"^^ ^^ '^^ to accept iS office of Secretary at War. For reasons now ol> he'^h?™ '"''^fr*^l«. he drowned himself ^n t^ Thames within a week of his acceptance of offlofe leaving this writing behind him :— My folly in undertaking what I was not able to perform has done tbe^King andkin«ioma great deal of prejudice. I wish lim all ffi^ and abler servants than John Temple." 348 Love Lettert from Dorothy Othorm -.J The foUowing letter was written on that bcoa- S2Sonf«^^I^*"?^^* ,**»>?' "«P*"'^. Sir jZ Osborne. The original of it is at Chicksands :— To Sir John Otboms, thanking Mm for Am eonsolation on the death of her son. Shien, JTay eth, 1689. Ubab Nephew,— I give you many thanks for your kind letter and the sense you have of my affliction, which truly is very great But since It 18 laid upon me by the hand of an Almighty and Qraciou. God, that always proportions His punishments to the support He gives with them, I may hope to bear it as a Christian ought to do and more especially one that is conscious to her- self of having many ways deserved it. The strange revolution we have seen might weU have taught me what this world is, yet it seems it was necessary that I should have a near example of the uncertainty of aU human blessings, that so having no tie to the world I may the better pre- pare myself to leave it ; and that this correction may suffice to teach me my duty must be the prayer of your affectionate aunt and humble servant, D. Temple. During the remaining years of her life, Lady Si^ Jl'as honoured, to use the conventional phrase, by the friendship of Queen Mary, and iiMPBi niiiip^wiii Hwniiiilpiwi iniihi mwi Appendw S49 there is said to have been a continuous corre- spondence between them, though I can find on inquiry no trace of its existence at the present Early in the year 1695, after forty years of mamed hfe, and in the sixty-seventh year of her age, she died She lies, with her husband and children, on the north side of the nave of West- minster Abbey, close to the Uttle door that leads to the organ gallery. Her body sleeps in Capel's monnment. And her immortal port with angeJs Utbb. --- -i^iKGStii^sxBVimsis^^^^^fn:-