> V/_,g > .^WEUNIVFRVA. ^lOSANCI ,5jrtEUNIVER5'/A . I n v/ CO :lOSANCEl% o ^AaMiNamv ^.OFCAIIFO/?^ ^OFCALIF >'6wiiaiH'^ ^jo^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^WEUNIVERSy/v "^^Aavaan-i^ ^^AHvaani'^ ^ A\^EUNIVERy/A o :lOSANCElfX> "^/saaAiNrtiwv^ ^OFCAllFOftjI^ ^OFCALIFO/?^ ^^AavnaiH'^ ^^AHvaani^ n riginal %ttttt&. FROM Dr. HARTLEY, Dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON, Mrs. MONTAGUE, Rev. WILLIAM GILPIN^ Rev. JOHN NEWTON, RICHARD BAXTER, MATTHEW PRIOR, LORD BOLINGBROKE, ALEXANDER POPE, Dr. CHEYNE, GEORGE LORD LYTTLETON, Rev. Dr. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN, &c. &c. WITH BIOGRAPHICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. EDITED BY REBECCA WARNER, Of Beech Cottage, near Bath. Blest be the gracious Powers, who taught mankind To stamp a lasting image of the mind ! Beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing, Their mutual feeUngs in the op'ning spring ; But Man alone has skill and pow'r to send The heart's warm dictates to tlie distant friend : 'TIS his alone to please, instruct, advise, Ages remote, and nations yet to rise. Crabbe's Librcnqf. PRINTED BT RICHARD CaUTTWELL, ST. JAMES's-STREET, BATH ; AND SOLD BT LONQMAXy HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATI8R- NOSTER'ROW, LONDON. 1817. ^M fvVvfc To THE READER. npHE only merit to which the Editor of a work, like the following series of Let- ters, can possibly pretend, must arise, from industry in collecting materials, and some little exercise of judgment in selecting such from among them as deserved to be presented to the public. As the Editor of the present publication has been aided^ in both these respects, by the kindness of friends equally obliging and judicious, she flatters herself ^ that this humble claim will be readily con- ceded to her. Nor can she doubt, that the Letters themselves will afford much gratifi^ cation to those into whose hands they may happen to fall ; since they were written, for the most part, by characters, who, in their time, stood high in the roll of literary fame ; -18'Jt [ iv ] or have been remarkable for talent, piety, or usefulness in their generation. Of there being all genuine, there is every moral cer- tainty : and that, with a very few excep- tions, they have never before been published, the Editor has every reason to believe. To the greater part of them are prefixed the names of those by whom they were written, as well as of the persons to whom they were addressed. In some, however, the names of the writer or correspondent are omitted ; either because they could not be given with absolute confidence, or because motives of ddlicacy in the friends who communicated such letters, made them hesitate to allow the publication of the signatures of those, who, when alive, might, possibly, have shrunk fix>m the idea of appearing before the world under the character of authors. CONTENTS. lETTE* TAG& BIOGRAPHICAL Illdstration of Richard Baxter 1 I. Prom Richard Baxter to Dr. AUestree - - 4 Biographical Illustration of Matthew Prior - 11 II. From M. Prior to Lord Townshend - - - 13 Biographical Illustration of Lord BoHngbroke - 14 III. From Lord Bolingbroke to Sir Wm. Wyndham - 18 IV. From ditto to ditto 24 V. From ditto to Sir Charles "Wyndham - - 2/ ,VL From ditto to ditto 32 Biographical Illustration of Alexander Pope - 35 VII. From iVIr. Pope to Wm. Fortescue, efqj - 37 VIII. From Mr. Gay and Pope to ditto - - - Sg IX. From Mr. Pope to ditto - - - - 41 X. From ditto to ditto ----- 43 XI. From ditto to ditto 44 XII. From ditto to ditto ----- 45 XIIL From ditto to ditto - - - - - 4/ XIV. From ditto to ditto . - - . - 49 XV. From ditto to ditto " - - - - - 50 XVL From ditto to ditto 51 XVn.; From ditto to ditto - - - - - 53 XVIII. From ditto to ditto - - - - -55 XIX^ From ditto to ditto - - - - 56 ii CONTENDS. X.TtBR t'AOK Biographical Illustralion of Dr. G. CKeyne 6o XX. Frcm Dr. Cheyne to Mr. Richardson - 63 XX[. From ditto to ditto - - 65 XXII. From ditto to ditto - - - - /O XXIII. From ditto to ditto - - - 75 XXIV. From ditto to ditto . - - -78 XXV. From ditto to ditto - - - - 83 XXVI. From to ditto, containing an Account of Dr. Cheyne's Death - - - 86 Biographical Illustration of Dr. Hartley, David Hartley, and Mrs. M. Hartley - 8$ XXVII. from Mrs. M. Hartley to the Rev. Wm. Gilpin, enclosing two Letters of her Father's ------ 91 XXVIIl. From Dr. Hartley to his Sister Mrs. Booth g7 XXIX. From ditto to ditto . - . - gg XXX. From Mrs. H. to the Rev. Wm. Gilpin, containing some Account of her Father's Life . . - - - 102 XXXI. From Dr. Hartley to his Son David Hart- ley, when setting out on his Travels - 111 , Biographical Illustration of H. A. Pistorius 121 XXXII. From *** to H. A. Pistorius, containing a brief Analysis of Dr. Hartley's Work - 122 XXXIII. From Dr. Franklin to David Hartley, efq; 137 Biographical Illustration of the Rev. Wm Gilpin - - . . - XXXIV. From the Rev. Wm. Gilpin to Mrs. M Hartley - - - . - XXXV. From ditto to ditto . . . XXXVI. From ditto to ditto - - XXXVII. From dittp to ditto - , - . 141 143 147 148 150 XXXVIII. From Mr?. M. H. to the Rev. Wm. Gilpin 133 CONTENTS. Vll LETTER PAGE XXXVni. From Mrs. M. H. to the Rev. Wm. Gilpin 158 XXXIX. From ditto to ditto - - - - -163 XL. From the Rev. Wm. Gilpin to ** ^ - 167 XLI. From ditto to ditto - - - - - l6g XLII. From ditto to diUo - r - - - 17I XLIII. From ditto to ditto - - - - - 172 XLIV. From ditto to ditto - r . . - J 73 Biographical Illustration of Joseph Amen r 175 XLV. From Joseph Ameen to the Earl of Nor- thumberland - - - - 180 XLVI. From ditto to Prince Heraclius - r - 185 XLV II. From ditto to his Father . - - IQS Biographical Illustration of Dr. Sam. Johnson and Joseph Fowke, esqj - . - . 202 XLVIII. From Dr. Sam. Johnson to Francis Fowke, esq; 205 LII. From ditto to Joseph Fowke, esqj - - 207 L. From ditto to Samuel Richardson - - 209 LI. From Joseph Fowke, esq} to * - - 210 LIL From ditto to ditto - - . ^ , 226 LIII. From Joseph Fowke, esqj - . - 21 7 LIV. From ditto ^ - - - - 21 9 LV. From ditto - - - - . - 224 Biographical Illustration of Mrs. Montague - 228 LVI. From Mrs. Montague to Mrs. Hartley - 231 LVII. From Mrs. Hartley to ***, on the Death of Mrs. Montague - . . - . 233 Biographical Illustration of the Rev. Dr. Jeans 236 LVIII, From the Rev. Joshua Jeans to a Young Man on entering into Orders - - - - 240 LIX. From the Rev. Dr. Jeans to *, giving an Account of the Catastrophe at Leyden * 243 Biographical Illustration of the Rev. J. Newton ---..--- 249 vm CONTENTS, X.KTTBR PAGE LX. From the Rev. J. Newton to Capt. and Mrs. Hansard - 250 Reference to the Rev. Dr. Buchannan's Life 255 LXI. From Dr. C. Buchannan to ** - - - 255 ' LXII. From the same lo the same , - - 258 ' LXIIl. From ditto to T E , esq; sen. - - 262 LXIV. From ditto to Miss E. 265 LXV, From ditto to T E , esq; sen. - j 27O LXVI. From ditto to Mrs. E. . . , . 272 Chara6ter of Voltaire, by Frederick 2d, King of Prussia ----,.- 370 Biographical Illustration v( George Lord Lyttleton 274 LXVII. From Voltaire to George Lord Lyttleton - 280 LXVIIL From Lord Lyttleton to Voltaire - - . 282 Houghton Pidures . - - . , 284 LXIX. to ** 287 LXX. From Dr. Glass to ** - - - - 297 LXXL From the Rev. W. Jones, of Nayland, to * * 299 ORIGINAL LETTERS, &c. RICHARD BAXTER. Richard Baxter, the author of the following letter, was one of the most remarkable characters of the seventeenth century. Had he fallen on happier days, he would have been an ornament to literature, and a permanent benefit to mankind; but, perpetually in- volved in religious polemics, and wasting his attain- ments in the discussion of " unprofitable questions,*' his voluminous works are for the most part buried iri oblivion, and his memorial exists chiefly in the name: of a conneftion of religionists, who, from adopting his theological principles, are known by the denomination of Baxterians, and hold a sort of middle path between Calvinism and Arminianism. He was born November 12, l6l3, at Rowton in Shropshire; and, after a life of seventy-six years, nearly fifty of which were passed amid vicissitudes, controversy, and persecutions, ex- pired on the 8th of December 1 691 . Vacillating in his doctrinal notions, he was, notwithstanding, steady in bis nonconformity; which subjefted him, more than B [ 2 ] once, to apprehension and imprisonment. The last occasion on which he incurred the notice of the law, was in 1685, when he was seized by a warrant granted by Judge JefFeries, and tried by that execrable per- verter of justice. The brutish vulgarity of Jefferies never appeared more conspicuously than on this trial. " Mr. Baxter "being ill," says his biographer, " moved, " by his counsel, for lime; but Jefferies said, he would " not give him aminute's time to save his life. Yonder " stands Gates in the pillory, says he; and if Mr. Baxter " stood on the other side, I would say, two of the greatest " rogues in England stood there. He was brought to " his trial May SOth, but the Chief Justice would not " admit his counsel to plead for their client. When "Mr. Baxter offered to speak for himself, Jefferies "called him a snivelling, canting Presbyterian; and '* said, Richard, Richard, don't thou think we will hear * thee poison the court. Richard, thou art an old fel- " low, and an old knave; thou hast written books *'. enough to load a cart ; every one as full of sedition, " 1 might say of treason, as an egg is full of meat ; V hadst thou been whipped out of thy writing trade * forty years ago, it had been happy. Thou pretendest *' to be a preacher of the gospel of peace ; as thou hast *' one foot in the grave, 'tis time for thee to begin to ** think what account thou intendest to give ; but leave *' thee to thyself, and I see thou wilt go on as thou hast V begun ; but, by the grace of God, I will look after " thee. I know thou hast a mighty party, and I see " a great many of the brotherhood in corners, waiting f. to see what will become of their mighty Don ; and a " Doctor of the party (Dr. Bates) at your elbow ; but, " by the grace of Almighty God, I will crush you all." NeaWs History of the PuritanSy v. v. p. 6. The jury, Mader the direction gf the Judge^ found Baxter guilty ; C 3 ] and he was fined 500 marks, or to go to prison till he paid it. He continued in prison for two years, when the court changed its measures, and he was released. Dr. Calainy observes, that Baxter's works would " form " a library of themselves." His " Call to the Un- " converted," and his " Saints' everlasting Rest," are still had in deserved esteem. He drew up a " Reformed " Liturgy," which Dr. Johnson pronounced to be " one " of the finest compositions of the ritual kind he had " ever seen:" but if it be compared with the admirable services of our own excellent Book of Common- Prayer, it will be found to be sadly deficient in pathos, sublimity, and variety. The popularity of Baxter's works in the seventeenth century was surprisingly great. " I remember," says Addison, in the 445th number of the Spectator, " upon " Mr. Baxter's death, there was published a sheet of good sayings, inscribed, The Last Words of Mr. " Baxter. The title sold so great a number of these ** papers, that about a week after, there came out a " second sheet, inscribed, More Last Words of Mr, " Baxter.'* The curious original letter, from which the following is printed, was found in a second-hand copy o? LyndC' wode's Provinciale^ purchased, about 28 years ago, of Mr. Cuthell, bookseller. Middle-row, Holborn. B 2 [ 4 ] LETTER I, Proni RtcHARD Baxter to " the Rev. Df. " Richard Allestree, the King's Profts' '* sour of Theologie, at his Lodgings in Christ's- " Churdh Oxford r stR, Dec. 20, 161^. A S your itigfenuity giveth me full satisfaction, '*-^ I am very desirous to give yoU such just satisfaction concerning myself, that you may think neither better nor worse of me than I am : we old men are prone to haVe kinder thoughts of our childish old acquaintance than of later, and to value most their esteem, whom we most esteem 3 and the current report of your honesty, as well as knowledge, commandeth a great esti- mation of you from us all. I was before the warre offended much at the multitude of ignorant drunken readers, who had the care of souls, and the great number of worthy ministers who were cast out and ruined, and of serious Christians that were persecuted for praying together, and [ 5 ] for little things. 1 was one of those that wer glad that the Parliament, 1640, attempted a reformation of these things, which J. expressed, perhaps, too openly. I lived in a town (Keder- jninster) then famous for wickedness and drunk- enness. They twice rose against me, and sought to kill me. Once for saying the infants had original sin, &c. ; and next time for persuading, the churchwardens to execute the Parliament's wder (the King's being yet with them) for defacing the images of the Trinity on the cross; when they knockt down two strangers for my sake, who carried it to their graves. Then the old Curate indited me at the assizes, I never heard, for what, but I was forced to be gone. If any did but sing a psalm, or repeat a sermon in their houses, the rabble cried, Down with the Round-^ Heads, and were ready to destroy them ; so that the religious part of the town were forced to fly after me to Coventree, where we lived quietly ; but having nothing of their own, they were con- strained to become garrison soldiers, and I took my bare dyet, tq preach once a week, refusing the offered place of chaplain to the garrison. The newes of 200,000 murdered by the Irish a,nd Papist strength in the King's armies, and the great danger of the kingdom, was published by the Parliament; my judgment then was, that neither King nor Parliament might lawfully [ 6 1 fight against each other; that dividing" was dissolving and destroying; and only necessary defence of the constitution vt^as lawful : but that the bonum publicum was the essentiall end of government ; and though I thought both sides faulty, I thought that both the defensive party and the salus populif lay on the Parliament's side, and I very openly published and preached accordingly. The Parliament still professing, that they took not arms against the King, but against subjects, that not only fled from justice, but sought by arms to destroy the Parliament, 8tc. In a word, my principles were the same with Bishop Bil- son's (of subjection) and Jewet's, but never so popular as R. Hooker's. When I had stayed in Coventree a year, my father in Shropshire was plundered by the King's soldiers, (who never was against the King or conformity.) 1 went into Shropshire, and he was for my sake taken prisoner to Linshull. I stayed at Longford garrison for two months, and got him exchanged for Mr. R. Fowler. In that time, the garrison being a little more than a mile distance, the sol- diers on each side used frequently to have small attempts against each other; in which Judge Fiennes' eldest son was killed of our side, and one soldier of their side, and no more that I know of. I was present when the soldier was killed, the rest ran away and left him ; and other sol- t > ] diers^ hurt him not, but offered him quaftef, but he would not take it, nor lay down his armes: and I was one that bid him lay them down, arid threatened to shoot him, but hurt him not, he striking" at me with his musketj and narrotvly missing me. I rode from him; and Captain Holidaye, the g-overnor, being behind me, shot him dead ; and it grieved me the more, because we afterwards heard that he was a Welshman", and knew not what we said to him. I never saw man killed but this; nor this indeed, for I rode away from him. Above twenty prisoners we there took, and all, save two or three, got away through a sinke-hole, and the rest wer6 exchanged. I returned to Coventree, and fol- lowed my studies another year ; all that garrison abhorred sectarian, and popular riebellious prin- ciples. The Parliament then put out the Earl of Essex, and new-modelled their armies; and gave Fairfax a new commission, leaving out the King ; when before, all the commissions were, to fight for King and Parliament. Naseby fight suddenly followed : being near, I went, some daies after, to see the field and army ; when! came to them,(before Leicester,) divers orthodox captains told me, that we were all like to be undone, and all along of the ministers, who had all (save Mrl Bowles) forsaken the army : and the sectaries had thereby turned their preachers, and possessed [ 8 ] ihem with destructive principles against King", Parliament, and Church. And now they said, " God's providence had put the trust of the ** people's safety in our hands, and they would, ** when the conquest was finished, change the ** government of Church and State, and become *' our lords." This struck me to the heart ; I went 'mong them, and found it true. Hereupon they persuaded me yet to come among 'em, and gotWhally (then sober, and against those men) to invite me to his regiment, (the most sectarian and powerful in the army.) I went home to Coventree, and slept not till I had called toge^ ther about twelve or more reverend ministers, who then lived there, (divers are yet living,) and told them our sad case ; and that I had an in- vitation, and was willing to venture my life in a tryal to change the soldiers' minds. They all consented. I promised presently to goe. I asked leave of the committee and government, who consented. Before midnight the garrison reviled the committee for consenting. They sent for me again, and told me I must not goe, for the garrison would mutinie. I told them I had promised, and would goe. But I, (foolishly,) to satisfie them, told my reasons, which setLieut.- Colonel Purefoy in a rage against me for so acr cusing the army. The next morning I went, and met with th^ consequentpf my error; for Crom- [ 9 ] wU had notice of what I had said, and came about before I could get thither: and I was met with scorn, (as one that came to save church and state from the army.) There 1 staid awhile, and found, that being but in one phice at once I could doe little good. I got Mr. Cooke to come and help me, (who since helpt Mr. G, Booth into Chester for the King, and was im- prisoned for it, though now he is silenced.) He and I spent our time in speaking and disputing against the destroyers ; and I so far prevailed as to render the seducers in the regiment contemned, except in one troop, or a few more. I told the orthodox Parliament men of their danger. But Cromwell frustrated my cherished hope, and would never suffer me to come near the General, nor the head-quarters, nor himself, nor never . once to speak to him. When the warre seemed over, I was invited home again; but I called near twenty ministers together at Coventree, and told them that the ciisis was not now far off; the army would shortly shew themselves in rebellion against King, the Parliament, and Church ; and I was willing to venture my life to trie to draw off as many against them as I could. They voted me to stay. I went back, and it pleased God, that the very first day that they met in Nottingham in council, to confederate, as I foresaw, I was not only kept away, but finally [ 10 I separated from them, by bleeding" almost to death, (120 ounces at the nose.) Had not that prevented it, I had hazarded my life at Tiiploe Heath, where they brake out, but had done little good ; for when the sober part then de- clared against them, they drew off about 5000 or 6000 men ; and Cromwell filled up their places with sectaries, and was much stronger than be- fore. All that I could do after was, to preach and write against them. This is a true account of the case of j our old friend, R. BAXTER. How little knew Mr. Durell how falsely he described my case at Kidderminster, I may not now stay you with a narrative. [ n ] MATTHEW PRIOR. It is Doctor Johnson's observation, that " Prior has ** written with great variety, and his variety has, made " him popular. He has tried all stiles, from the gro- " tesque to the solemn, and has not so failed in any as " to incur derision or disgrace," A singular resem- blance will be found between this description of iiis works, and the events of his life, and the character of his condud; the former being marked by vicissitudes of elevation and depression; the latter, by public use- fulness, and private licentiousness. Born July 21, 1 664, of parents sufficiently humble to have escaped the cer- tain knowledge of his biographer, he passed some time at Westminster school, under the care of the celebrated Dr. Busby; and, engaging accidentally the notice of the witty Earl of Dorset, the Maecenas of his day, he obtained an academical education in St. John's college, Cambridge. In 1691, he resolved to try his fortune on that best theatre for the exhibition of talent, the Metropolis; where, attracting notice by some of his publications, he became an objeft of ministerial patronage, and was sent as secretary of tlie embassy to the Congress at the Hague; " an assembly," as Johnson " remarks, of princes and nobles, to which Europe has, " perhaps, scarcely seen any thing equal ; where was [ 13 ] " formed the grand alliance against Louis the Four- " teenth, which at last did not produce effects propor- " tionate to the magnificence of the transaction." The favour of King Wijliam, which he gained by his di- plomatic taleiVts, and judicious application of poetical flattery, raised him to the office of Under Secretary of State, and afterwards to that of Commissioner of Trade, when he lost the secretaryship, hy the removal of the Earl of Jersey. It was now that he changed his po- litics; left the Whigs, and became a Tory; a change which was afterwards rewarded by degradation from his political honours, and the discomfort of tempo- rary imprisonment. In the year 1713, Prior was an accredited plenipotentiary at the Court of France; where he continued to exercise the high duties of the situation, and to enjoy its honours, till August 1714, when the Tories fell, and our poet was involved ia their disgrace. He remained in Paris, however, till the March following; and then returned to hiscountry, only to experience the melancholy reverse, of appre- hension and confinement. It was during his stay in France, and after the change of the ministry, that he wrote the ensuing letter; a document which seems to contradict Johnson's assertion, " that he was not " able to return to England, being detained by debts " which he had found it necessary to contract, which ** were not discharged before March :" since Prior does not even hint at such a cause of detention, in hi& confidential communication to Lord Townsend. Our poet seems to have been, like most other men, a mixed character ; with some of the fire of genius, but more, of its eccentricity : good natural principles, but occa- sional perversions of them: upright in the main, but led by circumstances, every now and then, into obliquity of conduct : in short, he seems to have exemplified f 13 ] in himself that pliability of conscience, which he has so well described in the following sprightly lines, attributed to his muse: For conscience, like a fiery horse. Will stumble, if you check his course } But ride him with an easy rein. And rub him down with worldly ^ain, He'll carry you through thick and thin. Safe, although dirty, to your inn. LETTER rr. From Mr, Prior to Lord Townsend. MY LORD, Fontainbleau, Oct, 12, 1714. T Am sure you will not think that I make you a compliment of form only, when I congratulate to you the honour of being secre-:. tary bond fide. I had rather you had the seals than any man in England, except myself; and I wish you all satisfaction and prosperity in the course of your business,; and in every part of your private life. I need not ask you for your favour; for, taking it for granted that you think [ 14 ] me an honest man, I assure myself of every thing from you that is goodnatured and generous, Kow long I am, or am not, to be here, or when I am to be recalled, your Lordship will soonest know; all that I can tell you upon that subject is, that our friend and ally Mr. Cunningham i mightily pleased with me. Pray, my Lord, do me all the good you can ; and if, as we say here, the names of party and faction are to be lost, pray get me pricked down for one of the first that, is desirous to come into so happy an agree- ment. And as I know so good a design as the obtaining and ensuring 'peace suits admirably well with the sweetness of your Lordship's tem- per,I'll take my oath on't it, graduates extremely well with my present disposition and circum- stances,. I cannot presume to hope for the happiness of seeing you very soon ; for though I should be recalled to-morrow, I shall savour so strong of a French Court, that I must make my quarantine in some Kentish village, before I dare come near the Cock-pit. In every place and estate, I am, with great truth and respect. Your Lordship's Most faithful, most humble, and obedient servant, MATTHEW PRIOR. [ 15 ] LORD BOLINGBROKE. That truth only is permanent, and that virtue alone can secure immortality to talent, is strikingly exem- plified in the fate which the philosophy and writings of Lord Bolingbroke have experienced; since now they are either entirely neglected, or remembered only to be reprobated or despised. " A graceful person," says Dr. Joseph Warton, ** a flow of nervous eloquence, " a vivid imagination, were the lot of this accomplished " nobleman ; but his ambitious views being frustratecf " in the early part of his life, his disappointments " embittered his temper; and he seems to have beea *' disgusted with all religions and all governments." Hence he became factious, discontented, and petulent, in his politics ; absurd, inconsistent, and impious, ia his religious speculations; and, though a patriot and Theist in profession, he was, both in practice and principle, an enemy to legitimate power, a despiser of dignities, and a reviler of God. As an instance of the efteils of his own dark system upon his moral conduct, it is sufficient to adduce his behaviour to Pope, his friend and panegyrist j whom be first degraded into the charader of a tool, and vehicle of his own de- slruAive notions, by insidiously furnishing him with the scheme of the Essay on Man, the pernicious ten- dency of which the poet did not perceive ; and after his friend was no more, employed the unprincipled Mallet to calumniate his memory. " Mallet," says Johnson, ** had not virtue, or had not spirit, to refuse [ 16 ] " the office ; and was rewarded, nor long after, with the " legacy of Lord Bolingbroke's Works." These he pub- lished in a splendid edition of five volumes in quarto. Had the following letters contained the least taint of his Lordship's polluted opinions, they should not, not- withstanding their graceful ease, have found their way into the present volume; for, next to the guilt of those who coin profligate principles, we hold them to be most criminal who give them circulation^ by committing them to the press. Even during the temporary popularity of Lord Bolingbroke's writings, many able refutations of the principles contained in them were pnblished by the friends of religion and good order ; but none more complete, satisfactory, and convincing, than the Letters of Dr. John Leland, in his View of Deistical Writers, from the commencement and close of which we beg leave to quote the following passages. **^ The works Lord Bolingbroke had published 'ia " his own life time, and which are republished in this " (Mallet's) edition, had created a high opinion of the " genius and abilities of the author. In them he had " treated chiefly concerning matters of a political " nature; and it were greatly to be wished for his own " reputation, and for the benefit of mankind, that he " had confined himself to subjects of that kind, in that * part of his works which he designed to be published " after his decease. These his posthumous works make * by far the greater part of this collection. His Letters *' on the Study and Use of History, which were pub- " lished before the rest, and prepared the world not to " look for any thing from him, that was friendly to " Christianity or the holy Scriptures. But I am apt " to think, that the extreme insolence, the virulence * and contempt, with which, in his other posthumous [ 17 ] * works he hath treated those things that have heen " hitherto accounted most sacred among Christians, " and the open attacks lie hath made upon some " important principles of natural religion itself, have " exceeded whatever was expected or imagined. There " is ground to apprehend, that the quality and repu- " tation of the author, his high pretensions to reason " and freedom of thought, his great command of words, "and the positive and dictatorial air he everywhere " assumes, may be apt to impose upon many readers, " and may do mischief in an age too well prepared al- " ready for receiving such impressions." ** Thus I " have considered what the late Lord Bolin2;brokehath *' offered in these Letters against the authority of the **' holy Scripture, and the Christian religion, as far as " may be necessary to take off the force of the objec- " tions he hath raised against it, and which seem to " have nothing in them proportioned to the unusual " confidence with which they are advanced. It is hard " to see what good end could be proposed by such an " attempt. But perhaps it may be thought an advan- " tage, that by ' discovering error in first principles " * founded upon facts, and breaking the charm, the " * inchanted castle, the steepy rock, the burning lake, "5* will disappear.'* And there are persons, no doubt, " that would be well pleased to see it proved, that *' Christianity is no better than delusion and enchant- ' ment; and particularly, that the wicked have nothing " to fear from the burning lake, some apprehensions of ** which may probably tend to make them uneasy in " their vicious courses. But I should think, that a true ** lover of virtue, and of mankind, who impartially " considers the purity of the gospel morals, the exceU See his Letter on the Use and Study of Retirement, vol. ii. p. asT. r 18 ] *' lent tendency of its doctrines and precepts, and the " power of its motives for engaging men to the prac- ** tice of piety and virtue, and deterring them from ** vice and wickedness, will be apt to look upon it as a ** very ill employment, to endeavour to expose this " religion to contempt, and to set bad men free from ** the wholesome terrors it inspires, and deprive good * men of the sublime hopes and sacred joys it yields, * But Christianity hath withstood much more for- *' midable attacks, and will, I doubt not, continue to " approve itself to those that examine it, and the ** evidences by which it is established with minds free ** from vicious prejudices, and with that sincerity and ** simplicity of heart, that seriousness and attention, " which becomes them in an affair of such vast im- " portance." LETTER III. From Lord Bolingbroke io Sir William WYNDH4.3I, Chantilly, Jan. 12, 1736. T Received yours of the 22d of December, O. S. -"- this moment; and an opportunity of sending^ it to Paris to-morrow or Saturday being- likely to present itself, I answer it instantly, in hopes it will be delivered by this safe conveyance, [ 19 ] time enough to be carried to you by Mr. Wynd- ham. My brother-in-law, who sets out this day for London, has one for you likewise. I did not doubt, my dear Sir William, of your approba- tion, when I writ the letter you mention. You are capable of feeling-, that trne spirit carries a man into retreat on some occasions, asitplung-es him into all the bustle of the world on others* If I had not gone into England, and begun to settle and take root there again, when the late King drew me into the measure, if I may use such an expression, it is easy to imagine what my enemies, and even my friends, would have said, with appearances on their side. If I had taken my hand from the plough, when the late King died ; it is easy likewise to imagine what the same persons would have said, with reason, I think, on their side. If I continue to act any longer the same part as I have acted in England for some years past, and the only part I would act if I was there; I know what judgment I should make of myself, and what every man of sense and spirit would make of me likewise. The wisest, the most decent, and the only dignified part I can take, is, therefore, that I have taken. I have taken it, and I will support it. The declared friend of my friends; the de- clared enemy of my enemies; ready to sacrifice myself at any time for the liberty and welfare c 2 [ 20 ] of the country in which I was born, and at all other times content and happy in the state of a philosophical cosmopolite, in the ordinary course of private life. You know how much indulgence I have for my passions, my fancies, my weak- nesses. How much it is, according to my sys- tem, a part of wisdom to give great way to them, and pay little regard to common notions, received customs, and the quen diset on? so terrible to most persons. But in the great turns of private life, and in every part of public life, I condemn this indulgence ; and I respect the opinion of mankind, I mean that opinion which is founded in judgment, and will last ; not the momentary applause of the vulgar. My whole scheme for the rest of my life is ready formed in my mind, and my mind im- moveably fixed to pursue it; but the affair which I recommend to you and Bathurst, is a prelimi- nary so necessary, that I cannot, without the communication of it, even begin to act and live as I propose to do, or at least with the ease and satisfaction I shall find, whenever this prelimi- nary is executed. I say no more on this head, but depend on you ; and expect to hear from you, as soon as you have thought, consulted, and informed yourself a little more about it. Though the project we have so often talked of for marrying Charles, be, in that one point of [ 21 ] view wherein I have considered it, extremely desirable; there is no doubt but it may cease to be so, when it is seen in another. You have seen it in that other, and you are, therefore, a much better judge. He will be very easy in the matter. Nothing could tempt him, but the prospect of an immense fortune; and, if I know him, he will prefer, even to that, the enjoyment of his liberty. Let me say one word to you on this subject. I have studied him this summer more than I ever did before. You will never give him a turn for public business, but he has notions of virtue and honour strong about him ; and he is one of those nags whom you may guide with a thread, if you play with his mouth,but who will grow restive to the spur, and run away, if he is much checked. I come now to the article of your letter that rlates to my Lord Gower. I agree that Mr. Leveson must know the language, so as to speak it with ease, before he can mix in the good company of this country with pleasure and profit, 1 agree, likewise, that it will be necessary that he should wear off that aukward, shy habit, which our young fellows contract, and which his natural temper fortifies perhaps, before he can make such a figure in this company as it becomes him. to make, and as it will be expected he should make, even at his first appearance. If he was at Paris, therefore, I should not advise producing . [ 22 ] him yet awhile in much company; and that I did produce him in, should be of a kind he would sooner assimilate with, than he would with the people of the Court, and of a certain rank and air of the world, But the objections against his being- at Paris, drawn from the danger of his falling into the habits of hi^ kinsman, and the other English, are strong, and, upon second thoughts, they seem to me decisive. The best resolution that can be taken, there- fore, is that of weaning him, by little and little, from the habits he has; fitting him by little and little for the world, and introducing him by little and little into it; and all this at a distance from his kinsman, and other English, who would con- firm his old habits, or teach him worse. By a letter which my wife has received from Lord Cornbury since I began this, I see that Lord Gower has thouo'hts of sendins: him di- rectly to us; and I confess that I should be glad that he did so. When he has been for some time with me, I shall make a better judgment of his character; and my opinion concerning the manner in which his travels oug-ht to be directed, will turn principally upon what I shall observe of his character. I will judge, in consequence of that notice, as well as I can ; a,nd my Lord Gower may assure himself, that I will employ the best skill 1 have in this affair,' [ 23 ] with zeal and affection. As to Mr. Gravenkop, I know him well, and think well of him; all I have to recommend is this, let him be in the boy's eye a friend and companion, not a governor. Let him be the same in the eyes of the world ; a person attached, as they say abroad, to the family, and who travels on that principle with him; this hint is of more consequence than you can imagine. In the mean time I will enquire about the several academies that are abroad. That in our neighbourhood at Augers is quite fallen ; and that of Luneville will now fall, I suppose, likewise. Pray renew to my Lord Gower the assurances of my being his faithful servant ; they are very sincere. I need say no more at present about his son; but if he sends him hither, I should be glad to know the time, that I may order mine so as to have an opportunity of attending him ; for it is possible that I may take a trip to Paris, and even to the waters of Bourbon, in the spring. Adieu, dear Sir William. All here are de- voted to you and yours; but neither here, or any where else, is any man so much as your old and faithful friend, B. [ 24 ] LETTER IV. Lord BOLINGBROKE to S'e> Wm. WyNDHA3I. February 27, 1737. I Received yesterday your letter of the 28th of January, dear Sir William ; and though I have this morning little time, I employ it to answer what you write to me ; and this I shall do in very few words. As to all expedients of borrowing", and living- longer onmy capital, which has been, during many years, and by many ways, annually reduced, I cannot resolve to take them. Tq live by expedients, in all the senses of these words, has been my aversion always, however I may have been obliged to live so; but at my age, in my circumstances, and with my present temper of mind, to live so would be madness, if by any means I can avoid it. I want ease and tranquillity more than money ; and, there- fore, in my proceeding toward the sale of Dawley, 1 care little what advantages I give another, provided I secure soon to myself the advantage pf settling my affairs in a way to have no further trouble about them, and to bring me a revenue, not equal to my fund, but equal to my scheme of life. 1 suppose the estate and advowson wortli about 19,000. If Mead, or any one else, will give me, without more ado, 6000 for the house, and all the furniture in it, so that I may not lose r 25 ] the present opportunity ; close the bargain, Sir William, and I will ratify it. You ask what furniture 1 except. Besides books and pictures, I answer, in this case none ; and especially if Dr. Mead be the purchaser, to whom, upon his own account, and out of regard to his late bro- ther's memory, I should be glad that the advan- tage of this purchase accrued. The furniture already in place, and the house, even reckon- ing the latter almost as materials, are worth the 6000. If my wife has left any box, or other odd article, which she may desire to have over, it will be such a trifle as to cause no dispute. In order to guard against the objection you make, it will be proper to say, as it is most true, that what you are now empowered to do, is only for the present moment, wherein I have parti- cular reasons for selling ; and that I shall not think in the same manner, this moment over. I make no doubt of your best services; and I should believe that Dr. B. might de- termine Dr. Mead to catch at such an oppor- tunity ; for surely it is a great one in profit, conveniency, and every other respect. Let me have your answer as soon as possible, for I must give mine determinately in a fortnight. I will not risk agreeing here, without agreeing there ; but, sure of the latter, I can find here, in the purses of my friends, all the money I shall want. [ 26 ] as I have told you in a former letter. Let your answer be sent securely to De Rocquet ; he will convey it to me. Let this come as soon as you can. Make it on good grounds ; and such will be your word of honour on my part, and the purchasers, for the purchase at such a sum. 26,000 1 wish to have: 25,000 I will take ; the difference of a thousand pounds is not great; and yet in the plan I have formed, (and pare as close as possible,) it is considerable. If these pour-parlers produce any other propositions, you will be so good as to let me know them, for I must turn myself some way or other. Once more, you need not apprehend that I shall enter into any engage- ments here, unless I am previously sure of selliiig Dawley. My last letter to you by Leveson acquaints you, that I can find in the purses of my friends here, as much money as I want, with- out any other security than I can give here, and that is, my word ; but far be it from me to risk that word. If I lose the opportunities that are open at present, and fall back into absolute un- certainty about the settlement of my affairs in any tolerable manner, either for my life, or for my death, there can be nothing worse for me ; and, in this case, I know not whether the best thing I can do, will not be to take a journey into England in the month of May. If any receiv- able offers are made, I may conclude at once ; if [ 27 ] none, I may take new measures: and if I will live on my capital, I may do so at Dawley in a very retired manner, as well as at Aug^eville. This is a party 1 should not cliuse^ but will take, if no other present itself; and I shall explain my scheme further to you hereafter. I had written thus far, when Bouillard re-, ceived a letter of a very fresh date froniBrinsden, wherein he says that Mrs. Wyndham has the small-pox. I am unspeakably touched with the news 3 I pray God preserve her for her own sake, and for yours. It would be cruel to trouble you, when you have so great a load of concern upon you, any further about my affairs. I will conclude, therefore, with assurances of the part your two friends here take in your affliction, with our hearty and warmest wishes that the poor young- lady may escape. We both embrace you, and make our best compliments to my Lady Blandford. B. LETTER V. From Lord Bohngbroke to Sir Charles Wyndham.* DEAR SIR, Augeville, Aug, 8, 1740. I Feel as I ought to do, the kindness you shew me in sending* a servant on purpose ^f,.Son of SirWm. Wyndham, afterwards Lord Egremont. [ 28 ] with a letter, which gives me as much comfort as I am capable of receiving", since the loss we have sustained by the death of your father, and my friend. You are in the right, and I love you the better for the sentiment ; it is reputation to be descended from so great and so good a man; and surely it is 50>we, to have lived thirty years with him in the warmest and most attentive friendship. Far from having any need of mak- ing any excuses that you did not write the cruel news to me, when you sent it to Lady Denbigh, I have thanks to return you for sparing me, as you spared yourself. The news came to me with less surprise, but not with less effect. My unhappiness (for such it will be as long as I am able to feel pleasure and pain) began, however, a little later. It is a plain truth, free from all affectation or compliment, that as your father was dearer to me than all the rest of the world, so must every thing be that remains of him. You, Sir, especially, who are as dear to my heart as you would be, if, being the same worthy man you are, you were my own son. The resolutions you have taken, both as to public and private life, are such as become the son and successor of Sir William Wyndham. To be a friend to your country, is to be what he was eminently: it is to be what he would have recommended you to be, even with his dyings [ 29 ] breath, if the nature of his distemper had per- mitted such an effort. He thought his country on the brink of ruin; and that monarchical or free constitution of government, wherein the glory and happiness of the nation consisted, at the point of being dissolved and sacrificed to the support of a weak and wicked administration; but he thought that the greater this distress was, the more incumbent and the more pressing the duty of struggling to prevent or to alleviate it became. One of the last things he had said to me the day before he left this place was, that he did not expect to live to see Britain restored to a flourishing and secure state, but that he would die in labouring to procure that happiness to those he should leave behind him. Complain not of your talents; it is a great talent to dare to be honest in such an age as this; nature has given you many, your own industry may improve them, and acquire more ; but integrity and firm- ness of mind must give lustre and vigour to them all, 1 am quite unable to suggest any thing to you relative to your conduct in Somersetshire, neither can you want any hints on that subject; or if you did, my Lord Gower would be able to advise you much better, and on better informa- tion and observation than it is possible for me to have. Consult him, dear Sir Charles, and hearken to him on every subject, as to a wise [ 30 ] and vn'tiious friend. I give you the counsel I would take myself, if I were in your scene of action at more than twice your ag-e. Whenever I can be of use to you, by inform- ing" and advising-, or by any other way whatsoever, this service shall be paid you with all the affec- tion of my heart, and all the powers of my mind or body. I owe it you. I owe it to the me- mory of your dear father. The flights I take from this place are rare, and never long in time or distance: if, there- fore, you are so good as to make me a visit, take your own time ; you will find me at home, or, as we use to say, within call. Your tender- ness and respect for my Lady Blandford cannot be too much commended, and I am sure you will persist in them. Give the strongest assurances of mine,Tbeseechyou,bothtomy Lady,Mrs.Wynd- ham, and to Lady Denbigh, if she be with you, as T suppose she will, when this comes to your hands. I had talked largely to your father on the subject on which I wrote to him in the letter that Mr. Brinsden put into your hands; and had convinced him, that Mr. Percy lost his time now at Winchester. You may be, perhaps, in the same mind ; and if you are so, you must send him to Oxford as soon as you can conveniently. But I will enter no further into the matter, since it will be one subject of our conversations when [ 31 ] we have them. I will only desire you to put the young man in mind of me, as of one who loves him, and wishes his happiness. If I am alive when he has finished the course of his studies at Oxford, you may perhaps let him make me a visit, before he goes into another course of study abroad, as I think it would be greatly for his improvement to do. I shall be glad to see him once more before I die, and I scarce induce myself to think that 1 shall have that satisfac- tion in England. Do not imagine that a letter from you can appear long to me, and especially when every line of it holds a language that affects my heart in the most sensible manner. Not to trust it to the post, you were right ; for there are men in the world, who will draw poison, like spiders, out of every thing. I know not whether the allusion I make be a fact, but that I allude to, is one most certainly. Adieu, dear Sir Charles! May all your fa- ther's virtues dwell in you; may you succeed to his reputation ! and may the reward of his merit, (as the attachment of it will undoubtedly) at- tend you! These are the sentiments of one to whom his memory and your person are equally dear. I can use no stronger expression, and I think this as strong as I can express it. B. [32 I, LETTER VI. Lord BoLiNGBROKE to Sir Chas.Wyndham. DEAR SIR, December 2, 1740. I Answer vour letter of the 22d of October- which came to my hand but very lately. It is true that my health received this summer several shocks, and they were not a little aggravated by the severe blow which the death of your father gave me. Assure yourself that I will deserve the place you give me in your affection and confidence, by the same friendship that I bore your father, (and greater no heart can give ;) and by the same zeal for your honour and interest in every circumstance of life. Some use I may be of, to you, by the long experience I have had of men and things, and especially at your first set- ting out in higher life than you have been in hitherto, and before you have acquired that experience yourself. To profit by other men's experience, is to purchase, knowledge of the world at the cheapest rate; and if mine can be in that manner useful to you, I shall think the price it cost so much the less exorbitant. You judged right, most certainly, in conducting your- self as you did at Wells ; and the reflections you make on the probable consequences of your [ 35 ] conduct, are right, too^ in my opinion. You see, by this instance, how void of sense and sentiment the mob of men called party is j they must not, however, be neglected ; every one of them is a cypher ; but a multitude of cyphers, with a unit added to them, make a great sum. Be assured, dear Sir Charles, that the great support of integrity, in a country like ours espe- cially, is independency. It is for this reason, that I feel more joy than it is possible for me to express, in reading that part of your letter, wherein you appear so determined to preserve your independency, by that economy which may easily be preserved by you, without refusing yourself any one of the pleasures of life. Hefuse yourself only the follies of life^ those engaging follies^ those that every man, upon the least reflection, acknowledges to be such. I ask no more ; and this you not only grant, but prescribe to yourself. I should have extreme pleasure in seeing you here, but I beg you not to think of coming with the least inconveniency, nor the least neglect of things that ought to be the immediate objects of your care. I do not suspect that Walpole can hinder you from being chosen at Bridgev?ater; but I have so good an opinion of you, that I am persuaded you will be chosen no where, rather than be chosen by him any where. Your i> [ 34 ] father would have thought so ; for your father looked upon that man as the principal cause of all our national misfortunes. I hear Percy is gone to Oxford, and I am glad of it. Do not forget to throw him into that course of study I mentioned to your father, and which he approved ; for else, though applied to his studies, he may lose his time at Oxford, as well as at Winchester. Have still in view to make him acquire a competent knowledge of the Roman law, and for that purpose send him into Holland, after he has been long enough at Oxford; upon which particular, if you talk with Lord M archmont, you will be well advised. I have made all the compliments you desired me to make, and am charged with the care of returning them. Make mine, I beseech you, to my Lady, and to Mrs. Wyndham. Adieu, dear Sir Charles. B. i[ 35 ] ALEXANDER POPE. KT? The celebrity of Alexander PopHj precludes the necessity of giving any particulars respecting a cha- racter, whose life has been the subject of so many able specimens of English biography. The late admirable edition of his works, by *' that sweetest son of modern " song," the accomplished W. L. Bowles^ has given to the public all that they can now expect to know of Pope and his works. The taste and discrimination of Dr. Joseph Warton had before well appreciated the merit of Pope as a poet, and allotted him his proper station among British bards : " Where then,^' says he, " according to the question proposed at the beginning " of this Essay, shall we with justice be authorized to " place our admired poet? Not, assuredly, in the same " rank with Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milion ; how- " ever justly we may applaud the Eloisa, and Rape of ** the Lock ; but, considering the correctness, elegance, " and utility of his works, the weight of sentiment, ** and the knowledge of men they contain, we may " venture to assign him a place next to Milton, and "Jusi above Dryden. Yet to bring our minds steadily ** to make this decision, we must forget, for a moment, " the divine Music Ode of Drj/den; and may then, *' perhaps, be compelled to confess, that though Dryden " be the greater genius, yet Pope is the better artist." Essay on the Genius and IVritings of Pope, p, 404, Of D 2 [ 36 ] the prose compositions of Pope, the public estimation has been neither so general nor unqualified as of his poetry. " His Letters" Johnson says, " if considered " merely as compositions, seem to be premeditated and ** artificial. It is one thing to write, because there is " something which the mind wishes to discharge j and " another, to solicit the imagination, because ceremony " or Vanity require something to be written. Pope ** confesses his early letters to be vitiated with nffec- " tation and ambition <, to know whether he disentangled *' himself from the perversion of epistolary integrity, " his book and his life must be set in comparison." Works, vol. a. p. 157. Whatever praises, however, may be considered as due to Pope's epistolary compo- sitions, the following letters will have much value in the eye of the public, as completing a correspondence, a part of which only has hitherto been published. Many of our poet's letters to Judge Fortescue appear in the later editions of his works ; but those now printed have escaped all his editors. They were reserved among the papers of the venerable, great, and good Richard Rey- nolds, esq; of Bristol; a name of such well-known and exalted worth, and universal estimation, as render any further description unnecessary, and all eulogy super- fluous. The Editor has to return her grateful acknow- ledgments to one of the most perfect of human beings, his near relative, for their communication. [ 37 ]' LETTER VII. To Wm. Fortescue, Esq; at Fallapit, near Kingsbridge, Devonshire. DEAR SIR, Sept. 10, 1724. V "" Heartily thank you for yours; and the rather, -*- because yqu are so kind as to employ me, though but in little matters ; I take it as an earnest you would do so in greater. As to the house of preparation for the small- pox, why should it not be my own ? It is en- tirely at your service, and I fancy two beds, or three upon necessity, (besides, your servants may be disposed of in the next house to me,) will amply furnish your family. It is true, the small-pox has been in Twitnam, but is pretty well gone off. I can't find any village more free from it so near London, ex- cept that of Petersham, where I hear it has not been; but I'll farther inform myself, upon your next notice. As to the receipt of Sir Stephen Fox's eye- water, which I have found benefit from, it is very simple, and only this : Take a pint of cam- phorated spirit of wine, and infuse thereinto two scruples of elder flowers. Let them remain in it, and wash your temples, and the nape of your 1S7504 [ 38 ] * neck, but do not put it into your eyes, for it will smart abominably. When you have taken breath for a week or two, and had the full possession of that blessed indolence which you so justly value, after your long labours and peregrinations, I hope to see you here again ; first exercising the paternal care, and exemplary in the tendep offices of a pater familias^ and tbjeij conspicuous in the active scenes of business, eloquent at the bar, and wise in the chamber of council, the future honour of your native Devon ; and to fill as great a part in the history of that county for your sagacity and gravity in the laws, as Esquire Bickford is likely to do for his many experiments iij natural philosophy. I am forced to dispatch this by the post, which is going, or else I could not have forborne to expatiate upon what I last mentioned. I must now only give Mr. Bickford my services, and join 'em to those! $haU ever offer to your own family. Believe me, dear Sir, Your faithfuUest, affectionate servant, A. POPE. Gay was well five days ago, at Chiswick. I [ 3& ] LETTER VIII. To Wm. Fortescue, esq; at Fallapity near. TotneSf Devon* [FROM GAY AND POPE.] DEAR SIR, Sept. 23, 1725. I Am again returned to Twickenham, upon the news of the person's death you wrote to me about. I cannot say I have any great prospect of success ; but the affair remains yet undetermined, and I cannot tell who will be his successor. I know I have sincerely your good wishes upon all occasions. One would think that my friends use me to disappointments, to. try how many I could bear 3 if they do so, they are mistaken ; for as I don't expect much, I can never be much disappointed. I am in hopes of seeing you in town the beginning of October, by what you writ to Mr. Pope ; and sure your father will think it reasonable that Miss Fortescue should not forget her French and dancing. Dr. Arbuthnot has been at the point of death by a severe fit of illness, an imposthumation in the bowels; it hath broke, and he is now pretty well recovered. I have not seen him since my return from Wiltshire, but intend to go to town th^^ latter end of the week. .;.; I ''\ [ 40 ] I have made your compliments to Mrs. How- ard this morning- : she indeed put me in mind of it, by enquiring after you. Pray make n>y compliments to your sisters and Mrs. Fortescue j Mr, Pope desires the same. Your's, most affectionately, J. G. *^ Blessed is the man who" expects nothing, *' for he shall never be disappointed," was the ninth beatitude which a man of wit (who, like a man of wit, was a long time in gaol) added to the eighth ; I have long ago preached this to our friend ; I have preached it, but the world and his other friends held it forth, and exempli-, fied it. They say, Mr.Walpole has friendship, and keeps his word ; I wish he were our friend's; friend, or had ever promised him any thing. You seem inquisitive of what passed when Lord Peterborow spirited him hither, without any suspicion of mine. Nothing extraordinary, for the most extraordinary men are nothing before their masters; and nothing, but that Mr.Walpole swore by G D, Mrs. Howard should have the grounds she wanted from V n. Nothing would be more extraordinary, except a statesman made good his promise or oath, (as very probably he will.) If I have any other very extraordinary thing to tell ' [ 41 ] you, it is this, that I have never since returned Sir R. W.'s visit. The truth is, I have nothing to ask of him ; and I believe he knows that nobody follows him for nothing. Besides, I have been very sick, and sickness (let me tell you) makes one above a minister, who cannot cure a fit of a fever or ague. Let me also tell you, tjiat no man who is lame, and cannot stir, will "wait upon the greatest man upon earth ; and lame I was, and still am, by an accident which it will be time enough to tell you when we meet, fori hope it will be suddenly. Adieu, dear Sir, and believe me a true well-wisher to all your's, and ever your faithful, affectionate servant, A. POPE, Tmtenham, Sept. 23, 1725, LETTER IX. To Wm. Fortescue, esq; at his house in Bell- Yardj near Lincoln's Inn, London. DEAR SIR, Twitnam, Mai/ 10. I Thank you for your constant memory of me, which upon every occasion you shew ; when (God knows) my daily infirmities make me hardly capable of shewing, though very much so of feeling, the concerns of a friend, I am glad your fjimily are well arrived; and your taking care first to tell me so, before I enquired, is a proof you know how glad I am of yours, and their welfare. I intended to tell you first how kind Sir R. Walpole has been to me; for you must know, he did the thing with more despatch than I could use in acknowledging or telling the the news of it. Pray thank him for oblig-ing- you (that is, r/ie) so readily, and do it in strong- terms, for I was aukward in it, when I just mentioned it to him. He may think me a worse man than I am, though he thinks me a better poet perhaps ; and he may not know I am much more his servant, than those who would flatter him in their verses. I have more esteem for him, and will stay till he is out of power, (accord- ing to my custom,) before I say what I think of Lira. It puts me in mind of what was said to him once before by a poet : " In power, your '* servant; out of power, your friend;" which a critic (who knew that poet's mind) said, should be altered thus : ** In power, your friend ; *' but out of power, your servant; such most ** poets are!" But if Sir R. ever finds me the first low character, let him expect me to become the second. In the mean time I hope he will believe me his, in the same sincere disinterested manner that I am. Dear Sir, your's, A. POPE. [ 43 ] Next Sunday I expect some company here, but that need not hinder you from a night's lodging- in the country, if you like it, LETTER X. To Mr, FoRTESCUE. DEAR SIR, Twickenham, Friday, I Am in the condition of an old fellow of threescore, with a complication of diseases upon me, a constant head-ache, ruined tone of the stomach, &c. Some of these succeed, the moment I get quit of others ; and upon the whole, indeed, I am in a very uncomfortable way. I could have wished to see you, but cannot. I wish you all health, wherever you go. Pray, if you can, do not forget to try to procure the annuity for life for 1000, which I recommended to you in behalf of a Lady of our acquaintance. Make my sincere services to all yours as ac- ceptable as they are sincere. I am, dear Sir, your's affectionately, A. POPE. If you have an opportunity, pray give my services to Sir R. W. whom I will wait upon the first Sunday I am able. [ 44 ( tETTER XI. To William Fortescue, Esq. DEAR SIR, Twilenham, Feb. 17, 1726. I Was sorry I missed of yon the other day when you called ; I was gone to Mrs. How- ard's, as I told you. I send you part of what wholly belongs to you, and, as the world's justice gO'S, that is a fair composition j I mean some of the Devonshire pease. If the ring be done, pray give it the bearer. I intend to wear it for life, as a melancholy memorandum of a most honest, worthy man. I told you I dined t'other day at Sir Robert Walpole's. A thing has happened since which gives me uneasiness, from the indiscretion of one who dined there at the same time; one of the most innocent words that ever I dropped in my life, has been reported out of that conversation, which might reasonably seem odd, if ever it comes to Sir R.'s ears, I will tell it you the next time we meet; as I would him, if I had seen him since; and 'twas not (otherwise) of weight enough to trouble him about. We live in unlucky times, when half one's friends are enemies to the other, and con- sequently care not that any equal moderate man [ 45 ] should have more friends than they themselves have. Beheve me, dear Sir, Most affectionately your's, A. POPE. LETTER XII. To William Fortescue, Esq; at Fallapit in Devonshire. DEAR SIR, September 13. I Take your letter the more kindly, as I had not written to you myself ; at least it must have been so, for all you could know; for though indeed I did write once, yet I know it never reached you. I am sorry for poor White, who died just then. I could wish, if you are not fixed on a successor, you had a relation of mine in your eye ; but this, I fear, is a hundred to one against my hopes. I am truly glad you have safely performed your revolution, and are now turning round your own axle in Devonshire ; from whence may we soon behold you roll towards our world again ! I can give you no account of Gay, since he was raffled for, and won back by his Dutchess, but that he has been in her vortex ever since, immoveable to appearance, yet I be- t 49 1 lieve with his head turning found upon soiiie work or other. But I think I should not in friend- ship conceal from you a fear, or a kind-hearted jealousy, he seems to have entertained, from your never having called upon him in town, or cor- responded with him since. This he commu- nicated to me in a late letter, not without the appearance of extreme concern on his part, and all the tenderness imaginable on yours. This whole summer I have passed at home ; my mo- ther eternally relapsing, yet not quite down; her memory so greatly decayed, that I am forced to attend to every thing, even the least cares of the family, which, you'll guess, to me is an inex- pressible trouble, added to the melancholy of observing: her condition. 1 have seen Sir R. W. but once since you left. I made him then my confidant in a complaint against a lady, of his, and one of my,acquaintance, who is libelling me, as she certainly one day will him, if she has not already. You'll easily guess I am speaking of Lady Mary. I should be sorry if she had any credit or influence with him, for she would infallibly use it to bely me j though my only fault towards her was, leaving off her conversation when I found it dangerous. I think you vastly too ceremonious to Mrs. Patty, but I shewed her what you wrote. I beg your family's acceptance of my heartiest services, and [ 47 ] their belief that no man wishes them and you more warmly all prosperity, than, dear Sir, Your ever affectionate friend and servant, A. POPE. I've only seen Mrs. Howard twice since I saw you, but hear she is very well, since she took to water drinking. If you have any correspon- dence at Lincoln or Peterborough, a friend of mine desires to procure a copy of Mr. ' last will. LETTER XIII. ToWm, Fortescue, Esq; to be left at his house in Bell Yard, Lincoln s Inn, London, DEAR SIR, March 18, 1732. I Am sorry you partook of the trouble of the Excise Bill; and as sorry I did not know of your coming, though but for two days, for I "Would have come up just to see you. It had been very kind, if you could have layn here in your way; but this is past, and may all the future be prosperous with you as 1 wish it ! As to that poem, which I do not, aud must not, own, I beg your absolute and inviolable silence. You [ 48 1 will see more of it in another week, and that tod I shall keep private. It is so far from a marti- lication to do amj good thing, (if this be so, and indeed I mean it so,) and enjoy only one's own consciousness of it, that I think it the highest gratification. On the contrary, the worst things I do, are such as I would constantly own, and stand the censure of. It is an honest proceeding, and worthy a guiltless man. You may be certain I shall never reply to such a libel as Lady Mary's. 'Tis a pleasure and a comfort at once to find, that with so much mind as so much malice must have, to accuse or blacken my character, it can fix upon no one ill or immoral thing in my life, and must content itself to say, my poetry is dull, and my person ugly. I wish you would take an opportunity to represent to the person who spoke to you about that lady, that her conduct no ways deserves encouragement from him, or any other great persons ; and that the good name of a private subject ought to be as sacred, even to the highest, as his behaviour towards them is irreproachable, legal, and respectful. What you writ of his intimation on that bead, shali never pass my lips. Mr. Bl is your faithful servant, and much obliged to your care. My mother, I thank Goi>, is free and easy. I never bad better health than of late, and hope I shall have long life, because [ 49 ] I am much threatened. Adieu ! and know me ever for, dear Sir, / o.t ,aoii . yoar most sincerely affectionate servant, I A; POPE. LETTER XiYbhii tmY ToWm, Fortescue, Esq; in Bell-Yard, near Lincoln s Inn, London, DEAR SIR, Sunday, Feb, 1732-3. -'I Had written to you before, as well as sent ; had I not hoped this day, or last night, to have seen you here. 1 am sorry for your complaints of ill health, and particularly of your eyes; pray be very careful not to increase your cold. I will infallibly, if I can't see you sooner, be with you in the middle of the week. I am at all times desirous to meet you, and have tnis winter been often dissatisfied to do.it so seldom. I wish you a judge, that you may sleep and be quiet; ut in otia tula recedas, but otium cum dig^ nitate: have you seen my imitation of Horace ? 1 fancy it will make you smile; but though, when first I began it, I thought of you ; before I came to end it, I considered it might be too ludicrous, E [ 50 ] 16 'a man of your situation and grave acquaint- ance, to make you Trebatius, who was yet one of the most considerable lawyers of his time, and a particular friend of a poet. In both which cir- cumstances I rejoice that you resemble him, but am chiefly pleased that you do it in the latter. Dear Sir, adieu ! and love me as I do you. Your faithful and affectionate servant, A. POPE. LETTER XV. To William Fortescue, Esq. lirEAR SIR, June 7,* 1733. IT is indeed a grief to me, which I cannot express, and which I should hate my own heart, if I did not feel, and yet wish no friend I have ever should feel. All our passions are inconsistencies, and our very reason is no better. But we are what we were made to be. Adieu! it will be a comfort to me to see you on Saturday night. Believe me, dear Sir, your's, A. POPE. The day on which Mr. Pope's mother died. [ 51 ] LETTER XVI. To William Fortescue, Esq. DEAR SIR, August 2, 1735. I Had sooner written to you, but that I wished to send you some account of my own and of your affairs in my letter. This day determines both ; for we cannot find out who is the pi rater of my works, therefore cannot move for an injunction, (though they are sold over all the town;) that injury I must sit down with, though the impression cost me above 200, as the case yet stands, there being- above half the impression unsold. Curl is certainly in it, but "we can get no proof. He has done me another injury, in propagating lies in Fog's Journal of Saturday last, which I desire you to see, and consider if not matter for an information. One Mr. Gandy, an attorney, writes me word, Mr. Cruwys is too busy to attend my little affairs, and that you approve of his being employed for him. Now, as to your business, I write this from your house; the windows will be done, and a stone chimney-piece up, by the end of next -week. I will see all effected, and order the painting after. I have paid the fisherman. 2 [ 52 ] I have exercised hospitality plentifully these twenty days, having' entertained many of mine, and some of Lady S.'s, friends. There is a greater court now at Marble hill than at Ken- sington, and God knows when it will end. Mrs. Blount is your hearty humble servant, and Lady S. returns you all compliments. Make mine to your whole family, when you write. I dine to-day with some of your friends, and shall give your services in the evening to Lord Hay. The town has nothing worth your hearing or care ; it is a wretched place to me, for there is not a friend in it. The news is supposed to be very authentic, that the Persians have killed sixty thousand Turks. I am sorry that the sixty thousand Turks are killed, and should be just as sorry if the sixty thousand Persians had been killed ; almost as sorry as if they had been so many Christians. Dear Sir, adieu ! As soon as yon get home, pray contrive (if you can) to send what letters you have been so partial to me as to keep, espe- cially of an early date, before the year 1720. I may derive great service from seeing them in the chronological order; and I find my collection, such as it is, must be hastened, or will not be so effectual. May all health and happiness follow you in your circuit, and, at the end .of it, with repose to join them ; and then, I think, you'll [ 53 ] have all thai is worth living for in this world ; for as for fame, it is neither worth living for, or dying for. I am truly, dear Sir, Your faithful friend, and aflfectionate servant, I vi).-.d,bL A. POPE. From the Vineyards^ Aug. 2. Pray, when you write to Mr. Curwys, enquire if he has not forgot Mrs. Blount's arrear from her brother of 25, due last Lady-Day. LETTER XVII. To William Fortescue, Esq. DEAR SIR, March 26, 1736. YOUR very kind letter was not more kind than entertaining, in the agreeable descrip- tion of Monmouth and its situation. And what you tell me of your own temper of mind, in the present discharge of your office, I feel veiy livelily with and for you. It is a dreadful duty, yet a noble one; and the hero you thought so much of at Monmouth, had, or ought to have had, his glory overcast and saddened, with the same reflection : how many of his own species he sentenced to death, in every battle he gave. I am not so clear in his character, as in that of [ 54 ] Edward the Third. There seems a little too much of a turn to vanity, and knight (king er- rantry, I would say,) in his motives of quarrel with the Dauphine of France. And it appears by some of the Monkish historians, that Jie was much a bigot, and persecuted hotly for religion. After all, your office of a judge is more con- scientious, and tends much more directly to public welfare. You may certainly, with a better title than any conqueror, sleep heartily, provided it be not upon the bench. You guessed rightly, (I should now say rather, you judged rightly,) when you supposed this weather was too fine to be sacrificed in London, where the sun shines on little else than vanity ; but I have paid for taking my pleasure in it too exorbitantly. The sun at this season, and in this climate, is not to be too much depended on. Miseri qiiibus intentata nites! may be applied to the favours and smiles of the English planet, as properly as to those of an Italian lady. The matter of my complaint is, that it has given me a rheumatism in one arm to a violent degree, which lies useless and painful on one side of t'lis paper, while the other is endeavouring to convei f-e with you at this distance. God knows, if your family be across the water just now, I shall not be able once to see them there. But it is not five days ago, that they were in London, [ 55 ] at that filthy old place Bell-yard, which you know I want them and you to quit. I was to see them one of the only two days I have been in town this fortnight. Your too partial mention of the book of Letters, with all its faults and follies, which Curl printed and spared not, (nor yet will spare, for he has published a fourth sham volume yesterday,) makes one think it may not be amiss to send you, what I know you will be much more pleased with than I can be, a pro- posal for a correct edition of them; which at last I find must be offered^ since people have misun- derstood an advertisement I printed some time ago, merely to put some stop to that rascal's books, as a promise that I would publish such a book. It is therefore offered m this manner ; but I shall be just as well satisfied^ (if the public will,) without performing the offer. I have no- thing to add, but that Mrs. Blount, whose health you shew a kind regard to, is better, and Lady S. well. May health attend you and quiet ; and a good conscience will give you every other joy of life, how many rogues soever you sentence to death. 'Tis a hard task! but a harder to man-* kind, were they unpunished, and left in society. I pity you, and wish it may happen as seldom as possible. Tour's, sincerely, ,j^^ A. POPE, [ 56 ] LETTER XVIII. To the Hb7i. William Fortescue. , DEAR SIR, Juli/S^, 1738. IT was my intention sooner to have told you, of what, I know, is the news a friend chiefly desires, my own state of health. But I waited these three weeks almost, to g"ive you a better account than I can yet do ; for 1 have suffered a good deal from many little ailments, that don't altogether amount to a great disease, and yet render life itself a sort of one. I have never been in London but one day since I parted from you, when I saw Mr. Spooner and the rest of yours ; and this day I took it into my head they might be at the Vineyard. I went thither, but Mrs. Shepherd told me, in a voice truly lugubrious, that nobody had seen her walls since you were last there. I comforted her over a dish of tea, and recommended her to read Milto n on all such occasions of worldly disappointments. I went home, and drank Sir Robert's health with T. Gordon ; for that day I was left alone, my Lord Bolingbroke being sent for to London, who has stayed with me otherwise constantly since his arrival in England, and proposes (to [ 57 ] my and very thin, but uses a great deal of exercise/ < Send me down the sheets lately printed. I am ever, dear Sir, Most sincerely your friend. And humble servant, GEORGE CHEYNB.^ A good library of sacred history, natural philosophy, spiritual divinity, and innocent triflers, would be very proper for your heroine ; which, if you want, and cannot otherwise pro- cure, 1 will help you to. LETTER XXII. From Dr, Cheyne to Samuel Richard- son, Esq. DEAR SIR, Bath, Jan.lO, 1711 -2. I Have been engaged these several posts, in writing letters which lay on my hands [ 71 ] these holidays ; and could not answer yoar*s sooner. It is not material to your new regimen, these trimming' intermissions you make in it; the only inconveniency in it is, that they con- tinue your regret for the flesh-pots of Egypt a little longer alive ; and you must absolutely die to them, that you may live. I tried all those tricks long and much, and only found they pro- longed my dying pains. On experience, I found it best to do as Sir Robert said of the Bishop of Sarum, he bravely plunged to the bottom at the first jump. He who is in the fire should get out as soon as he can ; either the method is necessary and safe, or it is not; if it is, the sooner the better; if it is not, time only can shew it* He that has plenty of wholesome vegetables cannot starve; and it is very odd, that what is the only antidote for distempers when one has them, should cause them when one has them not, or, at least, has them not to any daugerousi degree. The coming into the regimen slowly can only postpone the distemper it may produce a few days or weeks longer ; indeed, all that the voluptuous say about that, is mere farce and ridicule. As to Chandler, he was ever a volup- tuary and epicure, and at venison time every year makes himself sick, dispirited, and va- pourishing ; and yet he was younger than you, when he entered upou it; and I am of opinion if [ 72 ] he had nol, he had been in Bedlam long e'er now ; for he has naturally a warm imagination, and an inflamed fancy. Dr. Hulse knows nothing of the matter. He is, indeed, a very good practitioner in drugs, and on canibals in their inflammatory distempers ; but he knows no more of nervous and cephalic dis- eases, than he does of the mathematics and phi- losophy, to which he is a great enemy, and without them little is to be made of such dis- orders. There may be times and seasons when a little indulgence in chicken, and a glass or two of wine, may not only be convenient, but ne- cessary, as a person stops to take his breath in ascending a steep hill ; for example, on cold catching, a nausea, or inappetency, &c. I c^n honestly assure you, all the plunges I have ever felt these twenty years, since 1 en- tered upon a low regimen, have been from my errors in quantity, and endeavouring to extend it ; and I never get quite free of them, but by pumping the excesses up by evacuation, and re- turning rigidly to the licjlUest and least I could be easy under from the anxiety of hunger; and you will find this the surest rule to go by; for abstinence, even under a low diet, is some- times as necessary as under a high diet. 1 find by your's, you go on timorously, grudg-, ingl)', and repiningly. It is true you are not [ 73 ] a physician, but you are, I hope, a christian. St. Paul kept his body under. Our Saviour bids us^ fast and pray, and deny ourselves without ex- ception ; but for this there is no need of reve- lation advice. If you read but what I have written on this last, in the Essay on Regimen, as the means of long life and health ; or Cor- naro's and Lessius's little treatise, your own good sense would readily do the rest; but you puzzle yourself with friends, relations, doctors, and apo- thecaries, who either know nothing of the matter; are well under a common diet ; or, whose interest it is, or at least that of the craft, to keep you al- ways ailing, or taking poisonous stuff; and so you are perplexed and disheartened. I have gone the whole road, had one of the most cadave- rous and putrified constitutions that ever was known ; and, I thank God, am returned safe and sound at seventy, every way well, but the in- curable infirmities of age. And surely he knows the road better, who has gone to, and come from, the Cape of Good Hope, and tried all the soundings, rocks, shelves, and winds, than those who have only seen them in the map. In a word, dear Sir, I can give you, in your present state, no better advice than I have, were you my father or brother, or that my life and fortune depended on your being well. So God guide you well. [ 74 1 I have g-ot two dozen of my last book, and am very well pleased with the print, paper, and binding". I have considered it again and again, and cannot mend it for my life, in any thing- ma- terial. Perhaps the doctrine will not go quite so clearly down, so long* as I myself am alive; but if men g-row wiser or better, they will swallow it ; and I believe, even as the world is, it will enter- tain as well as instruct them, having so many interesting incidents in it: so as I hope I shall have no reason to fear being used by my new booksellers as I was by my last ; and if you see any of them, tell them so, if you think fit. As to the last part of Pamela, all the fault the world has to find with it, is what I told you in my last ; they say there is too much preaching in it. It is too long, too drawling, and the passions not sufficiently agitated. The booksellers here say it sells very well, but not so quick as the first. When you write me next, let me know how many of the last book was printed ; perhaps I may add to another edition, or, at least, by some additions and alterations, make them dif- ferent volumes of one work ; but you know, at my time of life, I can promise nothing for futu- rity. I am, dear Sir, Your most faithful humble servant, GEORGE CHEYNE. [ 75 ] LETTER XXIII. Dr. Cheyne to Sa.m. Richardson, Esq, DEAR SIR, BalJif Jan, 14, 1742. YOU are a little naughty : because hut once, (by having my fingers, ink, and brain frozen up by the most excessive cold weather I ever felt,) I neglected a few posts answering yours; you have been three weeks without writ- ing to me, to let me know how it fared with you, though you knew it was one of my greatest pleasures to hear of your welfare. You was resolved only to give me tit for tat ; however, I am pleased to hear from you even at your own, or any, rate ; and answer yours the very post after, only to procure me a more speedy return. I think you are quite in the right to give over all bleeding for the future. Your blood is certainly as good as it can be; which absolutely, under God, secures your life, (for ** in the blood is the life thereof.") So your diet will always keep it sweet and balsamic, and your whole care is to brace your solids and nerves ; but that is a very hard work, and only to be performed to a certain point or degree, at [ 76 ] youi* time of life. I wish in summer, in the long' vacation, you would come and try our Lyn- combe waters ; they have done great service in such a case. Your great admirer, Miss Pegg-y, finds that benefit by them, which only Spa water supplies in this cold weather. She is just of the same standing with you in the diet. I never promised her a total cure under three years; and I fear you will want one more to carry your cure as high as it will go. Take all the exercise you conveniently can ; time must do the rest, and I hope much from warm weather and nextsummer. One comfort you must have, that things will never be worse than they have been, and that there is no danger of life or limbs, further than a little tottering, which too will lessen. The ten days of so excessive cold weather almost deprived me of the use of all my limbs, took away my appetite, especially from milk, my only support; but, I thank God, since the wea- ther has been more temperate, I have, in a great measure, recovered all again; though I fear I shall never recover my walking again to the same degree; and am forced to perform my poor limbering, tottering exercise within my house which is neither so pleasant nor so effectual : but now I hope the worst of the winter is over, and that I shall rise again a little with the iq- [ 77 ] sects. All my family, wife, daughters, Nanny, &c. (tbey are honest people) admire you; and if you had not very good women of your own, you might have your choice. Peggy says, you are the perfect original of your own Pamela ; and that generosity and giving, which in others are only acquired virtues, are in you a natural pas- sion; and as others, even the best, only like to give as much as to receive, you only like to give. I thank you for your oysters, which we shall receive to-morrow, and your book of pluralities when it comes. I have been much distressed this low time for choice of kill-time books. The public library has afforded none of any value; and though I bribe our booksellers more than any others, they can give me nothing. I am ashamed to be always begging ; but this now I think you will not grudge, since it will cost you but little. As soon as you can, send me a romance, called the Dean of Colraine. There is one part of it in English, which I have seen ; I know not if the rest be translated. I would rather have it in English; but since, I believe, that can't be, if you would send me the French, yoQ will oblige me. The first part is inte- resting, and much on the side of virtue. I hear Pope is to beat Cihhery in an addition to his Dunciad. When it appears, I should be glad to see it with the first. [ 78 ] You see I am not shy with you. I can oblige you in nothing but my warm wishes, and those you have many titles to from, Dear Sir, your's, GEORGE CHEYNE. LETTER XXIV. From Dr. Cheyne to S. Richardson, Esq. DEAR SIR, Bath J Sept. 23, 1742. YOUR last gave a great deal of joy to me, as well as to your friends and relations. I hope truly that your case is not so bad as I at first feared, as your friends represented, and as your nervous eloquence often painted it. 1 am sure your constitution is sound as yet, both from your complexion, (which will always shew when it is very bad, but not always when it is perfectly good, a nervous flush often imitating a healthy blush not to be distinguished,) and from the state of your blood. You have quite a wrong notion about the hypy as in truth all but sensible physicians have. We call the hyp every distemper attended with lowness of spirits, whether it be from indiges- tion, head pains, or an universal relaxed state [ 79 ] of the nerves, with numbness, weakness, start- ings, tremblings, &c.! So that the hyp is only a short expression for any kind of nervous dis- order, with whatever symptoms, (which are various, nay infinite,) or from whatever cause. I should really think your nervous disorder was chiefly from want of due exercise, too much head work, and great plenty : the beginning of an uni- versal palsy, and not what your wise apothecary terms it, a hemiplege, which is indeed a half body one, and is of the veiy worst kind. But I will, under Goo, insure you against it now; for, as I have often told you, when the fire is broken and scattered, the conflagration cannot rise to so great nor dangerous a height as it did before. I think you have gained a mighty point, if you can walk from Hammersmith to London down to Salisbury Square ; and that, in time, will free you from the expense of coaching and chaising ; for, though I think exercise absolutely necessary for you, it is no matter how ; and next to riding, I prefer walking to all kinds of exercise ; and though you may not be able to walk from Ham- mersmith to London all weather, yet with a cloak you may walk the same length in 3'our garden, after sweeping off the snow, as I have often done, and may do still. As to your old apothecary's soot drops, I have often mentioned them to you ; and if his be very good, keep them r 80 J by you to take as a dram, on occasion, or in any sadden plung-e or lowness ; but as an alterative, to be taken by a continuance, they are of no use, baton the contrary j and are just a dram or an opiat to gain time and quiet ; and univer- sally, 1 conjure you, to take nothing- from an apothecary, as long" as you can do tolerably without. I beseech you, by neither doctor, apothecary, patient, or friend, be put out of this method ; and (under God) I will answer for the success. I am glad you have got some kind of hobby-horse in the bowls ; they are an excellent diversion. I wish you would per- suade yourself to learn and delight in billiards. It is worth your while to buy a table, and good sticks, and balls. It is a charming and manly diversion j and, (which indeed is most valuable,) is best in worst weather. Your wife, your daughter, your acquaintance, or any one, might be brought to be company, in billiards. I wish I could have gone into it. It has done Mr. Allen more service than any one thing ex- cept his diet, and is fit for all ages, conditions^ and tempers ; but I have so confined myself, that I could never bear any active diversion. It might, in a short time, supply the place of a chaise to you. Think on it : if not for health, yet for frugality. I would have you, by all means, so long as the weather continues good, [ 81 ] ^et down with your friend to Scilisbilry. De* cline no opportunity of jaunting with any secure person, that will let you take your own way ; for I well know a nervous person must have his own way, both in dietj conversation, exer- cise, hours of rest and amusement, else he must suffer to extremity at the time, and be worse after ; and had I not had this granted me by indulgent Heaven, in my situation, and with my load of distempers, 1 must have been extremely miserable ; and all nervous persons must be in- dulged in these, and in short give up complying with, and conforming to, tlie forms and ceremo- nies established by custom, or other people's errors. And it is a wise contrivance in Pro- vidence to make the young, the healthy, the indigent, servants, both to break the rebellious- ness of corrupt nature, and to be able to assist the old and tender, especially the nervous. I wish you would think of employing a fit person to collect, and write a character and contents of, all the books in the English or French, that are fit to amuse and instruct the serious and virtuous valetudinarian, of whatever kind ; such a catalogue, if judiciously collected by a man of virtue and taste, would be a great charity ; would be well received by the virtuous and serious of all parties j would be of great service to the fair sex ; and would keep many a [ 82 I persons from the playhouse and the tavern, and perhaps from worse places. This would come in very aptly with the design of Pamela ; and might, perhaps, be called a cata- logue of her library. The character of such books should be, that they were on the side of pure virtue, without much love affairs ; that they were interesting, and gently soothing the ami- able passions of friendship, benevolence, and charity ; and thirdly, that they had a sufficient mixture of the probable and the marvellous to keep the soul awake, and prevent its too intense thinkinsT on its own misfortunes. Such a cata- logue for England would be as useful as Bedlam is, and perhaps more so. If this were beguw, great improvements might be made in it in a short time ; and all the ingenious booksellers should be requested to club in it, for it would be much for their interest. I have set James Leake on it, but he can do but little in it, having neither sufficient materials, time, nor knowledge. It must come through many hands, to be what I would have it. London is the only place for it. You see how much pains I am at to amuse you, but I hope it will not lessen the compliment, ^hen I tell you that it equally amuses myself. With the best wishes, I am ever, dear Sir, your's, GEORGE CHEYNE. I 83 1 LETTER XXV. From Dr, Cheyne to S. Richardson, Esq. BEAR SIR, Bath, Sept. 17, 1742. 1 Have yours, and am ^lad you go on ill the same tenor in the main, thoug^h not equally high and bright; that is impossible in the nature of this Proteus distemper; but you will be al- ways getting ground, though not always sensibly; but you must have faith, patience, and perse- verance ; which, you know, are sublime, christian, as well as nervpus, virtues. I really expected a plunge about the equinoxial season, as I have mostly observed in myself, and all nervous pa- tients. The luminaries have an effect on animal juices, especially the tender and valetudinary, analogous to that they have on the ocean and atmosphere; but I hope the season is pretty well over with you. Mr. Chandler is here. His health is high, his spirits rather fermenting than placid, his complexion fresh, and his activity infinite. He is a sensible man, and one of the fittest you can converse with. He is in perpetual motion, when \e does not study ; and says, walking and ex- ercise, even delving and working, did him as g2 [ 84 ] much service, or more, than the medicine, and is the next best remedy, except the diet; but I blame him, for he eats meat a little again, once or twice a week ; but cannot bear a single glass of wine, without being the worse for it. Go on, and prosper. As to the catalogue of books, for the devout, the tender valetudinarian, and ner- vous, I, and all that I have mentioned it to, be- lieve that it would be of greater use in England, than any book or mean, that has been proposed, to promote virtue, and relieve the distrest. I say more than any that has been projected these many years, if judiciously and experimentally executed by proper persons ; but time, experi- ence, and different persons, though all lovers of evangelical virtue, must be employed, for others can have neither taste nor judgment in such a work. It ought to contain a catalogue of all the best, easiest, and most genuine books in all the arts or sciences; as, first, spiritual and religious works, of the most approved and practical books of Christianity ; 2dly, the most entertaining^ books of history, natural and politital ; 3dly, travels, and the accounts of all countries and nations; 4thly, allegorical adventures and no- vels, that are religious, interesting, and probablejf fithly; poetry, divine and moral; 6thly, choice phiys, (if any such,) as recommend virtue and good manners ; with a short character, and a [ 85 ] tint of the design, and a just criticism, in a few words, of such books, their editions, and where most likely to be found, in English or French, to which two languages I would have them confined. As to the last part, it must be exe- cuted by a person of temperance, virtue, and learning ; who, with a good taste, has true lite- rature. Where to find such a person, you know best; but I think the parts of it ought to be collected by different persons, of different talents, and finished and put together by one properly qualified person. The best model I can propose, would be like the catalogue of the mystic writers, published by Mr.Poiret; wherein their character and contents are finely and elegantly painted, in a small octavo, in Latin, which probably may be found at Mr. Vailante's shop in the Strand. At least I had it there, being printed in Holland. But, indeed, a proper person could do it his own way j and there are variety of models for such a work in French, but none in English I know of. The schoolmasters who have attempted such a thing for their school, being too low. If this were finely executed, I know of no book that would run better, or be of more service. Every serious person, both male and female, especiull^f this last, would have it. Perhaps I can make a preface, with some philosophical and medical observations to recommend it ; and suggest .[ 86 ] many proper books, particularly books of physic, which will be absolutely necessary in such a catalogue, but which I forgot to enumerate in the titles of the sciences I h^ve suggested above, but which I could promise to collect for such a work. In short, think of it : talk of it among- the brethren ; look out proper persons, and let me see the collections, and I will contribute all in my power and leisure to its perfection. It may amuse you agreeably, and that will con- tribute to your cure; which is most ardently wisjied by, de^r Sir, your's, most sincerely, GEORGE CHEYN^. LETTER XXVI. To Samuel RjICHardson, Esq, Bath, April 2\, 1743, PEA|l ANP HONOURED SIR, I Should have given you a letter sooner, on a subject you must naturally want to be in- formed of, if the ill health of our family had not prevented. Indeed I should have wrote long" before, if it had been thought necessary to ac- quaint the friends of the late good Doctor, of his indisposition; bvit his ffiends at this place were L 87 ] not less surprised than his absent ones at the news of his death. It was about ten days before his decease that he was confined to the house by illness, together with symptoms of the disorder that has lately spread itself so universally. On Thursday, about five days after the seizure, my father visited the Doctor; Mr. Bertrand did the same the day following; but my father's illness coming on the -day following prevented me paying the duty I owed to a great and good friend. We continued daily our inquiries, but never received an answer that alarmed us with an apprehension of his danger. But, alas! the whole time he wasted prodigiously. Though the Doctor's friends were not appre- hensive of his imminent danger, he himself was. He talked to his family of his death as of a natural consequence, though he did not imagine it so near; and it was not till the day before it happened, that he consulted a physician. Dr. Hartley was sent for, but he was at Mr. Allen's ;^ and when he came down in the evening, Dr. Middleton, Mrs. Cheyne's brother, was come over from Bristol, and had been with the Doctor. He went into the bedchamber, but the Doctoi' was dozing. The next morning he visited him about eight : he was then very easy, but his pul^e Prior-Park. [ 88 ] was gone. He did not know Dr. Hartley, as be had not seen him in his iUness, but he was still sensible. It was not above ten minutes after he left him, that the Doctor left this world. His death was easy, and his senses remained to the last. To consider the circumstances of your health, and that there is taken from you, by the Divine wisdom, one in whose mind the direction of it was a good deal lodg-ed ; it is impossible but we must look to the Almighty Disposer, and then see the same power capable of making* up that loss to you a thousand different ways. Keflec- tions of this sort are natural ; and we must know, that these, and much greater, are as natural to you. Even the wisest sentiments on this head would be but a repetition of your thoughts. The world has lost an able physician ; you, my dear ^ir, a valuable friend; and I, one greater than my merit. As long as health shall be reckoned ?i blessing, and the preservation cf life a duty, both rich and poor must condole the death of their common benefactor ; and those honourable families, which have so frequently and succes- sively resorted hither for his advice, must now be daily more sensible of the power of diseases, and jjpprehensive of their approaching fate. Your's, &,C. -^-r-r [ 89 ] Dr. HARTLEY, DAVID HARTLEY, Esq; Mrs. MARY HARTLEY. "Doctor Hartley, the celebrated author of " Ob- ** servations on Man, his Frame, his Duty, and his * ExpetSlations," was born at lllingworth in Yorkshire, the 30th of August, 1705, and died at Bath the 28th of the same month. 1757, at the age of 52 years. It is a rare occurrence in the history of the human mind, to find such deep powers of reasoning so early developed, as was the case in Dr. Hartley. But he was a philo- sopher almost from boyhood, and manifested a turn for reflexion, religious and moral enquiry, and metaphysical speculation, at that youthful season, which is usually devoted to thoughtlesness and dissipation, or at best to the pursuits of fancy and imagination. His piety was ardent, but devoid of enthusiasm, as appears from his letters ; and also from a series of beautiful and afFeling prayers, which he composed for his own private use between the 2lst and 30th yearsof hisage. Dr. Hartley was held in the highest estimation by the greatest, wisest, and best men of the last age ; who were attracted to his friendship, not more by an admiration of his intellect, than an affection for the excellence of his heart. His system, as faras regards the association of ideas, still con- tinues to be popular; and although the physiological part of it has been in a great measure exploded; yet it must be recollected, that the arguments against it are still omiy negativef aqd that its 4i|)pouents h?ive not offered [ 90 ] to the world any thing more satisfactory than it on the subject, or which better harmonizes with the known phenomena of mind. The letters from his daughter, Mrs. Mary Hartley, which follow, contain so many- interesting particulars of tlie Doctor's life, character, and opinions, that it is unnecessary to add more re- specting them at present. We pass on, therefore, to David Hartley, the son of Dr. H. by his first wife, who was born in the year 1735, and who inhcrted much of his father's acuteness, with all his moral virtues. With the advantage of an excellent education, which had been polished by travel, Mr. David Hartley early entered on political life, represented the town of Hull in many successive Parliaments, and was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary at the Court of Versailles, to settle with Dr, Franklin preliminaries of peace after the American war, which he signed, on the behalf of the British Court, in 1783. Plain in his mode of life, retired in his habits, and with great simplicity of character and manner, Mr. Hartley seemed better qualified for philosophical lei- sure, than the bustle of a political career; and the hours which he borrowed from public business, were devoted to scientific pursuits, and useful as well as ingenious inventions. Amongst the latter may be mentioned the iron plates, for under-casing the floors of apartments, in order to prevent accidents from fire; for which contrivance a reward was voted to him, by Par- liament, of ^2500. He died the 2Sd day of December, 1814, aged 84. Mrs. Mary Hartley was the daughterof Dr. Hartley, by his second wife. Equally remarkable for superior understanding, and elegant acquirement, she possessed every qualification for attracting a large share of public admiration, had not an amiable diffidence, and an uct* [ 91 ] common share of humility, prevented any display of the rich stores of her mind, beyond the circle of her immediate friends. That circle, indeed, was of wide extent, as all who once became acquainted with her, and were capable of appreciating her merit, were desirous of beinsc received within its limits. To the scholar, Mrs, M. Hartley was a companion on his own ground. Her knowledge of the dead lan- guages was considerable ; and her acquaintance with Italian, French, &c. familiar. The productions of her pen were marked b}' good sense, and elegance of com- position; and she exercised her pencil with taste and skill. But the chief excellencies of this admirable woman were, her exalted piety, and active benevolence; her uniform exercise of all the charities of private, domestic life; and the meek resignation, and truly Christian fortitude, with which she cheerfully sustained, during many years, pain, sickness, and permanent d.ecrepi!tude. She died July 7th, 1805, aged 66 year*. LETTER XXVn. From Mrs. M. Hartley ta the Rev, W1I.LTA3I Gilpin. DEAR SIR, Juli/ 18, 1795. rjlHE papers that I wish to send you, are two -*- letters of my father's. You have sent me some most excellent letters, and most interesting", It was 4 coofidence which I knew well how to [ 92 ] value; and 1 think 1 cannot better repay it, than by communicating to you the letters of a worthy man, whom, if you had known, you would have loved. Those letters have been lately put into my hands by a relation. One of them was writteiv when he was at school, only sixteen years of age. I was pleased to see in it the proof of that vir- tuous and ingenious mind, which I know he possessed in his later years ; and which I have always heard was remarkable in him from the earliest period. You will see in that letter an observation, that " whatever a young man at " first applies himself to, is commonly his delight " afterwards." This certainly is not a new or singular thought ; but when I consider the ob- ject of his future book, to infer from his system of vibrations and associations, that the mind receives ideas and impressions, from associations with former ideas and impressions, and that virtue may be thus generated by custom and habit ; I am inclined to think that this was in his head, when he wrote that letter; particularly as 1 have heard from himself, that the intention of writing a book upon the nature of man was conceived in his mind, when he was a veiy little Unf. He was not a boasting man, nor ever spoke an untruth ; but in many conversations that I have had with him about his book, he has told me, that when he was so little as to be swinging" [ 93 ] backwards and forwards upon a gate, (and, I I should suppose, not above nine or ten years old,) he was meditating upon the nature of his own mind; wishing to find out how man was made; to what purpose, and for what future endj in short, (as he afterwards entitled his book,) * the * Frame, the Duty, and the Expectation of Man. When he wrote the second letter, I conclude that all these ideas were farther matured, though I know not whether he had then begun to arrange them in the form of a book. He was then 29, a widower, and had been so four years. The little boy he speaks of was my brother, David Hartley, whose mother died when he was born. You will be pleased, as I am, to see the temperate system which he had adopted, and which, indeed, was the system of his life from the beginning to the end. The benevolence which he expresses was his natural temper, but it was improved by the principles of virtue; and it seems to me to be farther confirmed by that supposition which he touches upon in this letter, and afterwards expresses more fully in his book, that future pu- nishment cannot be vindictive and eternal; but however long, or severe, must be intended for purification and reformation. How far thi* supposition may, or ought to, be adopted, I know . not. Learned men have been of various opinion*; C 94 ] much has been said on both sides, and it is not for me to determine which preponderates ; but it seems to me, that the feelings which my father expresses are the naluj'al effects of this opinion. It certainly must exCite, and improve, the love of God, and love to man. Those who believe that future punishment is vindictive and eternal, without any purpose of repentance and amend- ment, must fear God, much more than they can love him. And if they believe that this eternal punishment arises from eternal incorrigible wick- edness ; and that those who have left this world, without accepting- the terms of salvation offered here, will be excluded hereafter from all hopes of future repentance, becoming more and more, through all eternity, the enemies of God, and the accomplices of devils ; they must find such a creed a great impediment in the way of universal love. We know not the hearts of men, neither can we discern who will be incorrigible, or who repentant ; but while we believe that some will be incorrigible, how can we give love with any coiijidence to those who may be, for any thing we know, the enemies of God, and the eternal objects of his hatred and vengeance! God forgive me for speaking so profanely of his infinite mercy and goodness! I cannot too soon unsay it. " God is lovej" " his mercy is *' over all his works ;" and he " cannot hate any [ 95 ] " thinof that he has made." Though it must be in his nature to hate vice ; yet since he is infi- nitely wise and powerful, as well as good, surely he must have means to eradicate vice from the heart of man. It may be by dreadful punish- ments, such as merely to think of must excite the jitrong-est compassion for others, and terror foff ourselves, lest we, or they, should be destined " To fast in fires, " Till the foul crimes done in our days of nature " Are burnt, and purg'd away." Yet will tlie hope that tliey will at last be " burnt, and purged away ;" that the time wilt come, when God shall be all in all; when all shall be brought to him ; when " no man shall " need to say to another, * Know the Lord,' " for all shall know him from tlie least to the " greatest." These hopes console the dejected mind; they dispei*se (as my father says) all gloomy and superstitious thoughts ; they teach a man to be indifferent to this world, yet to enjoy it more from a confidence in that Being, ** whose " mercy is over all his works;" they teach a man to love every other man; and to believe, that, however injurious or criminal he may nov^ be, God loves , though he cannot approve him ; that though he punish him, it shall be in mercy, to make him perfect; and that, though a man may be our enemy now, the time will come, when [ 96 ] he shall be our friend, and our brother. This was my father's doctrine, when /knew him, as you see it was before I was born ; and to this opinion, as well as to the kindness of his temper* and the virtues of his mind, I attribute that disposition, which made him never converse with a fellow-creature, without feeling- a wish to do him good. I have conversed a good deal, since I lived here, with a very clever old lady, who was formerly a great friend of my father and mother. Her parents were French refugees, who escaped from the persecution of Louis XIV. She was brought up in the severity of the Calvinistical tenets; but by some accident, when she was a. girl, she met with '* Petit Pierre sur la Bonte *' de Dieu ;" and she ran to her governess, skip- ping and jumping, and crying out with transport, "Ah! Madam, how / love God!" The go- verness answered, with formal gravity, " Why, " child, did you not always love him ?" " No, ' indeed. Madam," answered the child, " I never " did till now J" Believe me, dear Sir, Your's, affectionately, M. H. [ 97 ] LETTER XXVIII. From Dr, Hartley, when sixteen years of age, to his Sister, DEAR SISTER, Bradford, Oct. 8, X721. I Take this opportunity to send you Bishop Beveridg-e's Private Thoug-hts, with that other b^ok, which I found accidentally at Mr. John Wilkinson's. I wish I could say I was perfectly well ; but, however, I am much better, and following- my school business very diligently. Pray be not discourag-ed, I am in very good hands. My master and Mr. Kennett (our vicar) will do all they can for me, I am assured. Pray take my advice, as from one ex- perienced, (though younger than yourself,) to behave yourself cheerfully and briskly at all times. We hear of several persons, and I am sure my aunt can give you some instances, that have been preferred on account of some very trifling actions, in which they have shewn their activity and care. I M'ould have you spend all the time you can reasonably spare from your business, in reading. I Speak not only of reli- gious books, (though I would have them to be your chief care,) but of such fu^ will innocently H [ mj divert, or fit you for company. You are yonn^ yet, and I hope nothing of ill is so rooted in, but that it may easily be worn out. Take care you harbour nothing of envy, hatred, malice, covet- ousness, revenge, detraction ; the world is so ful! of the last, that I am sure, sister, you and I ought to be on our guard. Be sure you nevdr pollute your mouth with any such things; rathetf turn off the discourse, or excuse yoiu' neighbour as charitably as truth will allow. I believe it will be neither a useless nor a false observation, that whatever a young person applies himself at first to, is commonly his delight afterwards. What I argue from l>ence is, that if you and I perform our duty to God, our neighbour, and ourselves, as well as human infirmity will permit, and at all times be discreet, active, and cheerful, we shall receive more satisfaction, than the most voluptuous person : and it will be infinitely to our advantage in this World, and in the ensuing eternity. I beg of you not to neglect the Sacra- ment; for, assure yourself, no pretence will excuse you before Christ at the last day. But in this, and all your spiritual exercises, do not think Goi> regards the time, but the heart. If you forgiv all men, and be in charity with them; and be thankful and humble to God, your short prayers (where longer are inconvenient to you) will be accepted ; but without these, the longest will not. [ 99 ] Pray give my duty to my aunt and uncle. I beg* pardon for not behaving* to her as I ought; and return her thanks for all her care and kind- ness. Dear sisterj accept of my best advice and love. You may observe, that I recommend cheerfulness and quickness to you, as vj^hat I fear both you and I are defective in. . 1 am your's, &c. D. HARTLEY. I am turned preacher, as agfeeable to the day, in this letter ; but if you will send me an answer, the next shall be more entertaining. I am in good hopes to get 15 or l6 a year in the tJniversity, and am fitting myself for that ho- nourable society. Pray pardon haste. LETTER XXIX. Vrom i>r. Hartley, aged 29, to Mrs* Booth. DEAR SISTER, Buri/y March 2, 1734-5. I Received yours some time ago, and wrote the next post to niy sister Sarah ; but as I had a letter, a post or two ago, from my brother h2 [ 100 ] John, which mentions nothings of her, I am afraid my letter to her has miscarried. Pray enquire about it, and let me know how she does. My little boy* is very well. Mr. Waltou and I manage our house tolerably well. We are both Tery abstemious, and neither drink ale nor wine ; which, besides the advantage it is of , to my health and spirits, keeps me from a great deal of troublesome company, and saves a con- siderable expense. I study much harder than I ever did, and am much more cheerful and happy. I have lately gained the knowledge of some things in physic, which have been of great use to me ; but the chief of my studies are upon religious subjects, and especially upon the true, meaning of the Bible. I cannot express to you what inward peace and satisfaction these con- templations afford me. You remember how much I was overcome with superstitious fears, when I was very young. 1 thank God, that He has at last brought me to a lively sense of his infinite goodness and mercy to all his creatures; and that I see it both in all his works, and in every page of his word. This has made me much more indifferent to the world than ever, at the same time that I enjoy it more ; has taught me to love every raan^ and to rejoice in the happiness which our Hea *' The late David Hartley, esq. [ 101 ] venly Father intends for all his children ; and has quite dispersed all the g-loomy and melancholy thoughts which arose from the apprehension of eternal misery for myself or my friends. How long", or how much, God will punish wicked men, He has no where said ; and, therefore, I cannot at all tell ; but of this I am sure, that in ''judgment He will remember mercy ;'^ that " He *' will not be extreme to mark what is done 'amiss;" that *' He chastens only because He ** loves;" that " He will not return to destroy;'* because he is Gop, not man, i. e. has none of our foolish passions and resentments ; that " his " tender mercies are over all his works;" and that " He is love itself." I could almost trans- cribe the whole Bible; and the conclusion I draw from all this is, first, that no man can ever be happy, unless he is holy ; unless his affections be taken off from this vain world, and set upon a better; unless he loves God above all things, and his neighbour as himself : Secondly, that all the evils and miseries which God sends u pon us, are for no other purpose but to brin^ us tO| Himself; to the knowledge and practice of our duty ; and that, as soon as that is done, they will have an end. Many men are so foolish as to fight against God all their lives, and to die full of obstinacy and perverseness. However, God' method of dealing with them in another world t 102 3 is still full of mercy, at the same time that it is severe. He will force them to comply, and make them happy, whether they will or no. In the mean time, those who are of an humble and contrite heart, have nothing- to fear, even here. God will conduct them through all the ajSflic- tions, which He thinks fit to lay upon them for their g"ood, with infinite tenderness and com- passion. 1 wish these thoughts may be as ser- viceable to you, as they have been to me. My bpst respects. Your's, p. HARTLEY, LETTER XXX. From Mrs. ]M. Hartley to the Rev. William Gijlpin. BEAR SIR, Belvedere, MdC). I Am very glad that you were pleased |with my father's letters. The account of his life, which you recommended to our filial piety, has been already given by my brother ]J. H. in the second edition of my father's work, which 'was reprinted by Johnson in 1791. It is an history of my father's principles and opinions, particularly with relation to his book. [ 108 ] This subject my brother D. H. was able to treat more scientifically than my brother W. H. or I could have done; but we all joined, with truth and affection, in bearing testimony to his amiable moral character. It was equally the sentiment of us all, from faithful recollection, ** that his mind was formed " to benevolence and universal philanthropy, *' It arose from the union of talents in the moral " science with natural philosophy, and particu- ** larly from the professional knowledge of the <* human frame, that Doctor Hartley was enabled *' to bring into one view the various arguments " for his extensive system, from|^the first rudi- " ments of sensation, through the maze of com- *' plex affections and passions in the path of life, ^' to the final, moral end of man, ** He was industrious and indefatigable in the ** pursuit of all collateral branches of knowledge ** and lived in personal intimacy with the learned ** men of his age. Dr. Law, Dr. Butler, Dr. *' Warburton, afterwards Bishops of Carlisle, *' Durham, and GIocster, and Dr. Jortin, were i "his intimate friends, and fellow-labourers in ** moral and religious philosophy, in metaphysics, " in divinity, and ecclesiastical history. He ^ was much attached to the highly respected ** character of Bishop Hoadley, for the liberality " of his opinions both in church and state, and [ 104 ] ** for the freedom of his feligious sentiments. *' Dr. Hales, and Dr. Smith, master of Trinity <* college, Cambridge, with other members of ** the Royal Society, were his companions in the " sciences of optics, statics, and other branches " of natm'al philosophy. Mr. Hawkins Browne, " the author of an elegant Latin poem, " De " Animi Imniortalitate,'' and Dr. Young, the *' moral poet, stood high in his esteem. Dr. " Byrom, the inventor of a scientific short-hand ** writing, was much respected by him for useful ** and accurate judgment in the branch of phi- " lology. Mr. Hook, the Roman historian, and " disciple of the Newtonian chronology, was " amongst his literary intimates. The celebrated fA'Mr. Pope was likewise admired by him, not " only as a man of genius, but also as a moral poet. *' Yet as Dr. Hartley was a zealous christian " without guile, and (if the phrase may be ad- " mitted) a partizan for the christian religion, f.^'he felt some jealousy of the rivalship of human <^, philosophy ; and regarded the " Essay on Man," ^* by Mr, Pope, as tending to insinuate, that the " divine revelation of the Christian religion was " superfluous, in a case where human pilosophy " was adequate. He suspected the secret m-i ** fluence of Lord Bolingbroke as guiding the " poetical pen of his unsuspecting friend, to deck * out, in borrowed plumes, the plagiarisms of [ 105 ] '* modern ethics, from christian doctrines; not *' without farther distrust of the insidious effect " of poetic license, in softening* some unaccom- " modating points of moral truths. It was ** against this principle that his jealousy was di- " rected. His heart, from conscious sympathy " of human infirmities, was devoid of religious " pride. His only anxiety was, to preserve the " rule of life inviolate, because he deemed errors " of human frailty less injurious to the moral *' cause, than systematical perversions of its ** principle." I could not help quoting this passage, because it is that part of his character which I know will interest you most; and you gratify me by saying, that you have always had an high respect for him. The physician you speak of, who lived in Nottinghamshire, must have been him. He practised first at Newark, when he was a very young man ; and before he was married to his first wife, D. H.'s mother. She was the daughter of a Mr. Rowley, a lawyer, in Essex, of a re- spectable family ; and I have heard she was very handsome, and very engaging. He was extremely in love with her, but he did not enjoy his union with her for more than a year, for she died in bringing D. H. into the world. He was ex- tremely afflicted, and remained attached to her memory all his life; notwithstandingthat, he had [ 106 ] the strongest and most rational friendship far my mother, who was (as long- as she retained her understanding) a woman of a most exalted mind, elegant, accomplished, and uniting ** manly sense *' to more than female tenderness." He re- spected, esteemed, and loved her; but his first wife had had his youtjifal heart. He once gave me some Latin lines he made upon her death. I now know not where to seek them : if ever I find them, I will enclose them to you. You say, that, " by the dates, you imagine the physician ** who lived in Notts could not be my father;'* but this was possibly from your not being aware how very young he was at that time. He was born in 1705; and I suppose he could not be more than 22 or 23 years of age, when he prac- tised at New ark. When he married Miss Rowley, he could not be more than 24. He then settled at Bury, where he was much known and esteemed by all the principal families in that neighbour- hood ; particularly those of Lord Cornwallis, and Lord Townshend, The old Lord Townshend (then Secretary of State) treated him with as much kindness as if he had been an additional son, and all the sons and daughters as an addi- tional brother. The same friendly attachment continued to subsi.st between this family and ours since my father's death. r 107 ] I used to spend a great deal of time in the house of Mr. Thos. Townslieud,(Lord Sydney's father,) as long as he lived. I never knew a more ingenuous and affectionate mind than his ; and anions' the most intimate and cordial friends I have ever had in the world, are his sons and daughters, Lady Middleton and Lady To wnshend . Neither, indeed, does this descent of affection stop here; for all Lady Middleton's children, and all Lord Sydney's, (though of the latter I have seen little since they were children,) are still my friends, as their parents were. This continuation of friendship is delightful to me; particularly as I owe it originally to the excellent characters and dispositions of my father and mother. But to proceed with my histor}^ It was in 1735, that my father married my mother. She was the daughter of Robert Parker, member for Berkshire. I know not exactly how he became acquainted with her, but I believe it was at the house of one of her relations, who lived in Suffolk, Her family were against the match, and did for some time retard it ; but her father was dead ; she was her own mistress, and she followed that jpherent love of virtue, which taught her, that the affection of a heart like ray father's was of more value than wealth or titles. Her brothers thought not so; and though my father was the [ 108 ] kindest of brothers to them, they treated him always with hauteur. They died at last without heirs, and my mother of course inherited the settled estate ; but even then they left from her the unsettled part, and gave it to my brother W. H. over her husband. This was a disrespect to my mother, which I think she must have felt ; but her disposition was of the meekest, gentlest nature, and she never shewed it. My uncles were men of the world, and men of pleasure. They knew not my father*s value ; and were even offended with him for the true kindness he shewed them, in giving them good advice. They drank hard, which you know was a vice, that compelled him, both as a physi- cian and a moralist, to endeavour to dissuade them from. At such interference they would sometimes be angry; but when they were in their best humour with him, they would say ** You foolish dog, can*st you see, that the sooner " we kill ourselves, the better it will be for you * and your family." He did, notwithstanding, persist in his kind endeavours ; and I find among his MS. devotions, a very anxious and ardent prayer for them. From the year 1735 or 1736, to 1742, my father lived in London, where he had great prac- tice; but at that time he left town, partly on my mother's account, who was thought to be con samptive, -and partly because lie bad a painful complaint liiraself, which made him unable to bear the motion of a carriage. In 1742 he settled at Bath, where he remained till he died, except when he went for the summer to one of my mother's country houses. Once we spent nearly a year at Donnington Castle, where my father had some thoughts of residing ; and though he afterwards returned to Bath, yet he went as often as he was able to Little Sod bury, where my brother W. H. was educated under a pri- vate tutor. But these are little circumstances, of no con- sequence ; and my brother has not mentioned them in his sketch of my father's life. Biogra- phical writers are often too circumstantial in little things, which are not characteristic, par- ticularly with regard to men who have been memorable by their writings, and not by their actions. In the life of a General, it is material to know in what part of the world he spent such and such years ; but it is not material to know in M'hat town an author wrote such and such a book. What relates to his temper and turn of mind is material; therefore it is proper to say, (and my brother has said,) that my father's pro- fession was not that for which he was originally intended. He directed his studies for a lonar time to divinity, and intended to have taken [ 110 ] orders; but upon closer consideration of the conditions attached to the clerical profession, he felt scruples, which made him reluctant to sub- scribe to the Thirty-nine Articles. Yet he wa^ hy no means a dissenter, as Dr. Priestley has had a mind to u)ake the world believe. On the contrary, my father, thougli doubtful about some theological points, thoug-ht thei of little consequence to real morality ; and he conformed to the customs of the Established Church, at- tending- its worship constantly. Perhaps I ought to apolog-ize for troubling you with so much family history ; but as I have been used to receive from you the most inte- resting- histories of your own family, I hope I don't flatter myself too much, in supposing that yon may be as much interested about mine, as I am about yours. For my pride in delineating- their amiabl& virtues, I will not apologize ; because I believe- you will feel with me, that there is a rational pride in the consciousness of being descended from worthy characters; and this pride, perhaps, becomes even praiseworthy, if it stimulate us to endeavour to imitate or emulate tliem Believe me, dear Sir, Your sincere and affectionate friend, M. H. [ 111 ] LETTER XXXI. From Di\ Hartley, to his son David Hart- ley, Esq; on his setting out on his Travels* MY DEAR CHILD, Soclburi/, Avg. 1755. AS you are now entering upon a new and important scene of life, in which you will both enjoy great opportunities of improving yourself in all that is praiseworthy, and be ex- posed to many temptations ; I think it my duty, as your most affectionate parent, and sincerest friend in this world, to give you, in writing, the best instructions I am able to do in regard to your conduct. They may be the last I shall ever give you, for life is uncertain where the prospect is fairest j and besides this, 1 ought to bear in mind my advancing years, and particular infirmi- ties, and you the hazards that necessarily attend a course of travels. May God teach us both " so *' to number our days, that we may apply onr " hearts to wisdom." May He give me a mouth, and wisdom to speak, and you ears to hear; and so bless what I shall say, that you may pass through this world with health of body and mind, with the love and esteem of your friends, and with a competency of all that is necessary or cpnvenient for you; and at your departure [ 112 ] from it, be rewarded with tliat crown of g'lory "which He has promised to all that love and obey him. The first and principal precept is, what I have jnst now mentioned, to love and obey God. I might have added, to fear Hira ; because this is also a scriptural precept, and arises necessarily from the consideration of his infinite power, pu- rity, knowledge, and justice. But if we love and obey God, the fear of Him will be no more than a limited filial fear ; consistent with the reasonable enjoyments of the blessings of this life, and even productive of the inestimable hopes of happiness in another, i. e, as St. John expresses it, " Perfect love casteth out all such " fear as hath torment." But now, you will say, I know that it is my duty and only happiness to love and obey God, but how shall I do this? " I delight in the law of God, after the inner " man, but 1 find another law in my members, *' warring against the law of my mind." Prai/ to him for help and strength. He can and will give you the victory. You know that there is nothing in rni/ power that / should deny you ; but you are his child more than i/ou are mine, and He loves you infinitely better than I can. With how much certainty, then, may you expect that He will give you his holy spirit, if you ask Him j and that He will make his yoke easy, and his [ 113 ] burthen light, if you will take them upon you! and that He will enable you to do that with' pleasure, which, to our corrupt nature, seems impossible. A belief of the real efficacy of prayer is es-" sential, both to religion and to comfort. But what is more evident, according either to reason or to scripture, than that the Author of our spirits expects homage from them, and will give blessings in return? The principal use and intent of all earthly appellations, relations, trans- actions, &c, is, not to produce earthly happiness, (for that, you must see, and feel, is very little, when accounts are fairly balanced,) but to be patterns of heavenly things, and, like the law, school- masters to bring us to Christ. Do not, there- fore, entertain an opinion, which is too much favoured by some very good books, that the use of prayer is to alter and improve our own minds^ by raising devout affections of a proper kind in them : this is a great and real use, undoubtedly ; but we shall never pray with that requisite ne-^ cess2t.ry , faithj unless we go like children to their parents, or like subjects to a gracious prince. This is the language of the scriptures, and agree- able to the plain reason of the thing ; and if we apply to God in this manner, purifying our hearts and hands, so that we may be assured of obtaining what we ask, or something better, or I [ 114 ] both one and the other : which last is, perhaps^ generally the case, where men pray with great earnestness, perseverance, and resignation. The same plain reasons, and scriptme expres- sions, shew the great obligation and happiness of public prayer as well as private, and of fre- quenting the sacrament. Let me just remind you of that remarkable promise of our Saviour, ** Where two or three are gathered together in ** my name, there am I in the midst of them," I will add one word with regard to mental prayer, T mean not only frequent incidental ejaculations in the course of the day, but more devout aspirations of the heart to GOD, without distinct expressions; and which may be called the great secret of a pious and happy life. But I find it very difficult to attain to this great secret. I am persuaded, however, that it is at- tainable; and may be practised, not only without interruption to the proper business and innocent pleasures of human life, but also to the unspeak- able joy of all those who labour after it in earnest. The means of grace next of importance to prayer, is the reading of religious books. We may, by these means, bring our minds to right dispositions, and by degrees arrive at the happy state of making duty and pleasure coincide. Don't grudge the time that is thus spent in the transformation of your mind. Mens cujusque [ 113 ] est quisque. If you bring" yourself to delight in that which you may always have here, in that treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and which no thief can steal away, your state will be paradisaical, even in this world* Depend upon it, there are persons who have at- tained to this happy state; and though they be few, though the greater part even of those few be such as have been forced from their vices and evil habits by great affliction, yet, the blessing is offered to all, to the young, and healthy, and prosperous, as well as to others. It is, however, more particularly attainable by those who have had a religious education, and are endowed with generous principles. These persons have a more ready conception of the language of good books, and their hearts sympathise more intensely with the sentiments contained therein; and I hope that you are in this happy number. But if it' should be difficult and irksome to you, at first, thus to cultivate and improve your own mind by religious books ; do it, h owever, as a matter of jJuty and necessi ty, from the hopes of heaven, and the fears of hell : and, d epend upon it, (experto crede,) time w ill make it delightfu l, ir is necessary that the soul should be transformed into the image of Christ, before we die ; and it must be adorned with meekness, humility, and purity, love of God, and love of our neigh- I2 [ 116 J bour ; else we shall be shut out from the joys of heaven at the day of judgment, and confined to all the horrors and miseries of hell. , What words, then, can express the madness of those persons, who, having an easy and cer- tain method proposed to them by prayer, and fasting-, and meditation, of obtaining heaven, and escaping hell, do, notwithstanding, refuse to comply with it. And yet this is the case of the generality of irreligious persons, in this land of light and liberty, where there are so many opportunities, calls, and advantages. Let me add one thing more, viz. that there can be no excuse for not reading religious books. This is absolutely in our power; and, therefore, the neglect of it is an unpardonable offence in the eye of God, who knows all our thoughts, de- vices, and designs, and consequently knows, that if we do not come to the light, it is for fear that our evil passions and habits should be con- demned thereby. The relig-ious books which I would recom- mend are, first, the scriptures, and then the practical writings of those persons known to have led holy and religious lives. If you con- verse with such persons in their writings, you will, by the blessing of God, acquire the good dispositions and tempers for which they were eminent, and obtain " that peace which passeth t H7 ] ** all understanding." Their descriptions of the virtues and vices will put you upon jf our guard in the various circumstances and events of life ; and teach you what to do, and what to avoid, in 2)articulars ; for I have no doubt of your sincere desire to please and serve God in general. But you, like all other young persons of eager tem- per, are carried on to act, or tempted to neglect, without duly considering the nature of the action, or omission ; and a repeated action, or omission, comes, after some time, to be a habit. Now, if you have your memory well stored with that vari- ety of short, evident precepts, which occur m prac- tical books, virtue will get the start of vice upon sudden occasions of life, at least it will not be far behind it 3 and mayj I hope, by the sincerity of your heart, a,nd the good principles of your edu- cation, and, above all, by the gracious assistance of God's holy spirit, become completely victo- rious in the event ; at first, indeed, with some pain and difficulty, but afterwards with inex- pressible joy and satisfaction. I would recom- mend to you the writers of our own Church ; a^ least Protestant ones, in preference to those of the Romish Church. Our own writers being educated in a country, where both civil and ecclesiastical liberty are enjoyed in great per- fection, have a greater freedom of thinking and ispeaking than an^ others ; and their piety is, of [ 118 ] consequence, more clear from all tincture of superstition or enthusiasm. But all churches abound with/>rc^jca/ writers, of inestimable value; and it is the greatest happiness of the present times, sun si bona norint^ to have in every library, and in every shop, numberless books, which can " make us wise unto salvation." Spend one, two, three hours, every day^ in this kind of read- ing-, joined with meditation and prayer ; and depend upon it, you will never repent it, in life or death, here or hereafter. If you be '* wise " unto salvation," you will be wise in your pror fession, and in all temporal affairs; you will be dilig-ent, upright, obliging, and polite; you will gain the love and esteem of all with whom you have intercourse, and receive the hundred-fold in this life, which Christ has promised to his true followers. '* Seek ye the kingdom of God, ** and his righteousness, and all things shall be ** added unto you." The same reasons which enforce the constant reading of good books, hold in respect of the company of serious and devout persons. Every man must, and will be, like the company he keeps J and as it is the most favourable sign of happiness and success in this life, for young persons to associate -with, and delight in, those who are older and wiser than themselves; so bad company is a sure mark, as well as means, of [ 119 ] misery and ruin. It is infectious in the greatest degree, by secret as well as by open ways ; and all attempts, which a man seems to himself to make, to preserve his innocence, are vain and delusive. Remember what Sydenham says, " that he " was ahiays the worse for his acquaintance with " had merif though they did him no direct injury'* In like manner, avoid all books, which have either direct or indirect tendency to corrupt your mind; or to make you love, or not fear, your three great enemies, the world, the flesh, and the Devil. I might proceed to the several duties of life but rather choose to forbear, and confine myself to this earnest recommendation of the duties of prayer and religious reading. If you comply with my precepts concerning reading, you will be furnished with all the rules and motives to a holy life, in a much better manner than it is in my power to give them ; and if you pray with faith and earnestness, '* God will work in you * both to will and to do." If, on the other hand, you neglect prayer and religious reading*, you will perish miserably, here and hereafter. If you halt between the two, your life will be che- quered by hopes and fears, by joys and sorrows as mine has been, and as that of the generality of the world is, till you come to die, either peni- tent, through the goodness of God, in sending [ 120 ] you afflictions, and blessing them to you; or impenitent, through the hardness and stupidity of your heart. It pleases God to give me greater peace and hope, than I have ever yet enjoyed; and I am resolved, by his grace, to serve Him with an upright heart, for the short re- mainder of my days. My great concern is, that I may meet your mother, yourself, your brother, and your sister, in that state where there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor pain; and I trust in Gop, that He will grant me this great blessing, But I have a true and tender concern for your temporal welfare also; and though I restrained my discourse to spiritual things alone, yet I shall never cease to promote your happiness in this world, by my prayers and jnost earnest endeavours ; being, my dear child, Your's, most affectionately, p. HARTLf;Y, C 121 ] HERMAN ANDREW PISTORIUS. H. A. PisTORius, to whom the following letter is addressed, ranked high, in the North of Europe, as a scholar and divine. He was rector of Posnitz, in the island of Auger; and, in the year 1772, published, in German, a great part of Hartley's Observations on Man, with notes on, and additions, to the same. This was printed at Rostock and Leipsic, translated into English, and prefixed to the third octavo volume of the third edition of Dr. Hartley's work, printed in London 1801. M. Pistorius's observations evince great acuteness of mind; considerable powers of reasoning ; a profound knowledge of metaphysics ; a singular liberality of sen- timent ; and expansiveness of benevolence. In his preface, he has given us the following sketch of his design, in the work he had undertaken. * I found, ** that, of the two volumes of Dr. Hartley's work in ** English, (the first of which contains a complete phy- " siological and psychological system,) the second only *' was properly fit for my purpose : this contains na- " tur^l religion ; a demonstration of Christianity, its *' moral doctrines; a short exhibition of the doctrines of " faith; and finally, a treatise on the expectations of *' man. I therefore contented myself with giving a *' short, though superficial, abstract of the first volume, " which contains the association of ideas; but the -' second I have thought it necessary to divide into two, ** and amplify it with my own observations," r 122 ] LETTER XXXir. To Herman Andrew Pistorius. SIR, May, 1770. A Desire to comply with your request, and -^*- to illustrate my friend Dr. Hartley's reasoning", as far as I am able, has emboldened me to undertake a task, I am but too sensible I am unequal to. However, I will do the best I can, with cheerfulness; and if I shall be so lucky as to shew his method of reasoning in a clear light to you, I shall think myself very happy. If I shall not succed, the time you will spend in reading this, and I in writing it, will be thrown away, innocently at least. Dr. Hartley supposeth, then, that children, at their first entrance into life, are susceptible of mere bodily, or, ais he calls ihem, sensible pleamures and pains only; and that they are affected with these by the impression or action of external objects on their nervous system : that these impressions leave their respective traces or ideas behind them ; which original impressions, or their ideas, by being frequently connected and associated, as they grow up, with various other impressions, productive of neither pleasure nor pain, generate in us, by degrees, pleasures and [ 123 ] pains of a higher rank, such as those of the i ma g-i nation, ambition, &c. All this operation he supposes to be performed by the simple mechanical laws of motion ; by the means of vibrations in the component particles of the whole nervous system ; and this opinion Sir Isaac Newton seems to embrace. But whe- ther true or not, or by what other means this operation maybe performed, is not at all material to the consequences he draws from it. The law of association may universally take place, by what method soever it may please the Supreme Being to bring it about. From this doctrine of association, thus laid down, he proceeds to shew, that all our pleasures and pains, all our affections and passions, all our opinions, our assent and dissent to truths of all sorts, arise in our minds ; that this alone is suffi- cient to account for all the phenomena of the human understanding. In short, upon this foun^^ dation he builds no less a structure than the whole frame of the human mind; which is formed and made what it is, in each individual, by the previous accidental associations which have been connected together in his passage through life to the present moment. He shews us, that we really are, and by what particular steps we come to be, iuj fact, what the common language of the world, perhaps inconsiderately, calls us, viz. tho [ 124 ] children of prejudice, education, habit, custom, &c. ; and that the mind of man, various as it seems to be in various particulars, is ultimately resolvable into perhaps a few impressions of external objects on our senses, variously com- bined and connected together. This method of reasoning, thus pursued, makes us mere machines. He allows it, " Then,^ say the advocates for free-will, *' we are no longer " free agents," consequently can do no action, either of virtue or vice ; consequently can have no merit or demerit; and so go on to draw many other consequences relating to God's goodness, justice, &c, which, they say, necessarily and naturally flow from these premises. Here, as I apprehend, lies the greatest difficulty. But to all this the Doctor (Hartley) thus answers, as I undertand him. If, says he, by free-will, is meant a power to do, or to omit doing, any'action whatsoever within our compass, according to the determination of our will, (which definition most men would allow,) I then allow free-will in the most perfect manner that defi^ nition can admit of. But if by frecrwill is meant a povt'er within ourselves, uncaused by any pre\ ious motive, or present impression, by which we can forn^, constitute, or create this determination of our own will ; 1 then abso* jutely deny there is any such thing residing ia [ 125 ] Us, according to this definition ; and this, I take it, is what he means by popular and philosophical free-will. He says, every man must feel in himself that he has no such power over the de- termination of his will. That the will is brought into that state of activity, such as to be called the wilimg" of any action, by motives and impression-, previous to such determination. That, if this is not the case, our free-will must be inconsistent with God's prescience; that, in fact, we should be gods ourselves, having- a power within our- selves of becoming a first efficient cause ; whereas, God is, and must be, the only first cause of all things. That, in the commoo instances produced of proving we have such a free-will, the most trifling are always brought, where the motive is not of consequence enough to be regarded or attended to ; whereas, in matters of moment, we always see, and readily allow, the motives which induce us to do, or not to do, such actions ; and is it reasonable to suppose, we have such a freer will as is contended for, in the most trifling af- fairs of life, and not in those of more importance ? That, in the common intercourse of mankind, all men, whatever their language be, act as if men had not such free-will. What would avail the giving good education to youth? What per- suasion or argument to the aged, if they were possessed of this whimsical free-will, and were [ 12(5 ] not feg-ularly acted upon by motives. Why should I trust myself alone with you, Sir, and not with a cartouche ? but that 1 know you have neither of you free-will ; that the consideration of honour, right, and religion, will assuredly be motives strong enough to prevent you from injuring me ; and those of interest, malice, or fear, will, as assuredly, be motives sufficient to prompt the other to rob, or perhaps murderj me. The de- nying of free-will in man is, by many, supposed to involve U S in the great diffic ulties of making God the author of evil ; the allowing it, Dr. H, says, does not remove it. The origin of evil equally remams a difficulty, (perhaps never to be cleared up by us,) whether man has, or has not, this free-will. That evil, both moral and natural, is in the world, is a truth not to be contested. And that the Author of us, of na- ture, of the universe, should not be the author of that, and of every thing else, in whatever light we consider things, is as great a diffi- culty as any thing we can propose. There is no difference in this respect, whether a Being, infinitely benevolent to will what is best for his creatures; infinitely wise, to know what is best; and infinitely powerful, to be able to effect what is best; creates a being, subject to the impressions of external objects, which impressions will con- duct him to evil, and which, from his make, he t 127 ] must follow ; or whether a created being, endued with free-will, which, as God, he must foreknow would lead him to the same evil. There is this to be said in favour of the mechanical scheme, that, if we are really machines, anxiety, pain, and all the uneasinesses of body and mind at- tendant upon evil actions, must, by our aversion to pain, force us at last to such a course of actions, as are likely to produce ease, pleasure, and peace of mind, if our stay here were long enough ; and who knows how long our proba- tionary state may be ! A creature endued with free-will may, perhaps, never be reclaimed, but pushed forward continually towards his own misery ; whereas, the mechanist, merely from, his mechanical make, is precluded from thus ruining himself for ever. Which is most worthy a good, wise, and powerful God ? Which is the preferable state for us his creatures ? If you thus reject free-will, it may be asked, what will become^^f virtue and vice, merit and demerit ? To which the Doctor thus answers. If in the definition of your complex idea of virtue, merit, and words of such import, you include the idea of free-will as one of the component parts, an ingredient, sine qua non ; you may justly say^ without free-will, there can be no virtue ; but then it becomes a mere identical proposition. But, if you define virttie to be a word denoting r 128 ] ^rery action tending- towards the happiness and well-beiug of the creation, or any part of it ; and merit, a word denoting" such an intention in the actor, witliout examining how he came by such an intention, or why he performs such an action; and vice and demerit the contrary, (which is no improper definition, no harsh way of straining language ;) then the mechanist may properly be said to be vicious, or virtuous ; to have merit or demerit, to any degree, as the free agent. As for rewards and punishments, the true way of considering them seems to be this. Pleasure and happiness are the constant attendants on, or rewards of, virtue; if not absolutely so in this life, at least in our whole progress through eter- nity; pain and misery, or natural evil, are the constant attendants on, or punishments of, vice or moral evil, wi th this remarkab le difference,^ that the first, by gjying- us what our natures are desirous^ of, strengthen and corroborate us in the jpursuitjgif_yirtue ; and the last, by bringing to us what our natures are averse to, tend constantly to annihilate vice, and so force us, even against _oiirselves, by the mere mgj^fiLflf.cuuLm^^ into the road of happiness, where we shall all ulti- ttiately arrive. For to consider punishment** from God as a revenge for evils committed, is surely to have an unworthy idea of Him ; I might almost call it blasphemy. Whereas, if t V29 ] ive consider them only as corrections leading u^ ip happiness, we entertain a much more adequate idea of his unlimited benevolence. And this is really the case in the magistrates and powers of this world. Having thus givfen a sort of history of the frame of man, and removed, as he supposes, the grand objection, with all its consequences; he proceeds, in the second place, to examine, from his frame, what is the duty of man ; a being, desirous of happiness, and averse to pain. The obtaining happiness, and avoiding misery, is, and ought to be, the chief pursuit of mankind here. The impressions made on our senses, by external objects, are the inlets to our future happiness, and knowledge, by the various as- sociations with which they are connected ia our earliest youth ; but as these affect the sensible pleasures only, and we are, and ought to be, constantly rising from lower degrees of pleasure to higher; and as the pains attendant on the following mere sensual pleasures will drive us from them, to seek some others less chequered with miseries ; the Doctor shews, that these ought to be our primary pursuit ; and that the mind of the most gross sensualist may rest contented with these only ; so he goes on to shew, that the pleasures of imagination, or ambition, cannot be pur summum bonum : and concludes, that the [ J30 ] pleasures of benevolence, the moral sense auiV piety, or Thespathy, (as he calls this class of pleasures,) may, and oughtto.be, the end man- kind should propose to themselves, if truly wise, from the frame of their mind ; nay, that the frame of their minds is such, as to drive them necessarily into this mode of thinking at last. If mankind were seriously convinced of this truth, it would be one great additional motive, or weight, added to the machine, to accelerate the motion to the point desired. But, says he, we have another way to judge of our duty, if we believe the scriptures. He then enquires what right these books have to be thought to reveal the will of the Creator ; and sums up, in a short and clear way, the general evidences of their genuineness, truth, and inspi- ration. And having fully convinced his reader, as he supposes, that he ought to believe in them, and to trust to them as containing the will of God ; he shews that they lead us to the same end, and enjoin us the same rule of life, which Ihe considerations, from the make of our minds, had before pointed out to us, but in a far more conspicuous and exalted manner. This finishes the second part; and in the third and last, he shews what ought to be our expectations, by our complying, or not comply- ing, with this rule of our duty, so laid down. [ 131 ] If we pursue a course of benevolent, just, and pious actions, the Doctor proves, froni the make of our minds, vee shall enjoy all the content, peace of mind, happiness, arid pleasure. Our natures are capable of; and all this is promised us, here and hereafter, by the revealed will of God in the scriptures. But, if we should take another turn, what will be the case then ? In that case, says the Doctor, let us remember that pain and misery are the concomitants of vice ; and the aversion to these will, at last, by the force of our mechanical make, quite overcome this proneness in us to evil ; and we shall, by degrees, be spiri- tualized, and rendered worthy partakers of the happiness designed for his creatures by the Lord of the universe. If, by many unhappy wrong associations, some shall be rendered so obsti- nate as to endure many and grievous afflictions, before they are prevailed upon to turn their backs upon evil, hard is the case of such ; but so it is, if they break a leg, or live a long life of pain, occasioned, perhaps, by the vices of their an- cestors : But this happens every day, without its being ever considered in the same light ; and that we should be shocked at supposing, that mankind should suffer pain for the actions of others, which, it must be allowed, are at least as much out of their power, can be owing to no- thing but prejudice, or, ia other language, to K2 t 132 ] prior associations. But will you say, then, that the most wicked shall at last be happy ? Most certainly, replies the Doctor, but not till they have returned from their wickedness : and, indeed, this is the corner-stone that supports the whole fabric. For there might be some plea of justice in arraigning the ways of the Almighty, if mankind should for ever suffer for actions which they are compelled to at the time ; and which, if this doctrine be true, they would do again and again a thousand times, all other pre- vious circumstances remaining exactly the same. In defence of this opinion, the Doctor says, it is inconsistent with infinite justice to punish finite crimes infinitely and eternally : it is in- consistent with infinite benevolence, power, and knowledge, to create poor groveling being* as we are, compared to Him, to undergo eternal torments : and if you can prove that any one- man can be saved, from that one it will be easy to prove, that every individual shall. For in- stance, let us suppose the best man that ever lived 10 be represented by A, and the worst by Z; and all the intermediate letters of the alphabet to denote all the intermediate degrees of virtuous and vicious men. Then will the Doctor say, B. is so near in degree to A, and C to B, and so on, that you can never stop, till you go through the whole of mankind. For divide where you [ 133 ] will, as, for example, at M, or N, the deg-rees of virtue in M, and vice in N, can never be so great, as for the Almighty, to make M eternally happy, and N miserable eternally. And to close all, the Doctor attempts to prove, that this is the language of scripture from end to end: that it is full of most glorious promises and pro- phecies ; that it threatens, indeed, and threatens greatly ; but this is our comfort, we shall suffer no more than we can bear, no more than is ne- cessary to make us happy, completely happy : if a little will suffice, we shall have but little ; if much is wanting, God will give us what is wanting to make us completely happy, and not a jot more. He brings a great number of texts and types, to shew, that the restoration of all mankind is plainly promised us in the scriptures, but that much pains is necessary to bring this about ; and adds this observation, that man, as well as God, is bound to perform his promises ; but that neither justice, nor mercy, require either of them to perform their threats. The last, in- deed, one may say, forbids it; and this is God's great characteristic, by which He has made Himself known, viz. that he is a merciful God. Now let us review this scheme, and see whe- ther man has reason to complain that he is made not a free, but a n ecessary a gent. God, the author of nature, has formed an universe full of [ i34 J harmony, full of beaaty. To contemplate and enjoy this, he has created man, a being capable of receiving pleasure, and suffering pain, from the impressions of external objects all around him. The nature of pain and pleasure is such as to make him eagerly desire and pursue the one, loaih and avoid the other. He has so framed the mind of man, that from the pleasures and pains received from these impressions, he should be led on to seek such things as he has expe- rienced to give him former pleasure. These, being daily united with other impressions, aug- ment his sources of pleasures, and he is impelled to search for new ones. If, by unhappy miions, he finds himself mistaken, and, instead of plea- sure, he experiences pain; this, by repeated trials, will turn him aside; and he will, from the nature and frame of his mind, be led to such actions as, he finds, will not disappoint him. Happiness is the lot designed by God for all his creatures. As far as one man's happiness coincides with the happiness of the whole, so far will pleasure fol- low his steps; when they obstruct it, pain will obstruct him from destroying the happiness of others, and in the end, consequently, his own. So, if this be the true history of man, it is not in the power of one of God's creatures essentially to obstruct the happiness of any one of the work of his hands, not even his own. Ought we to repine [ 135 ] at this? Is it not a great and glorious scheme, worthy the benevolent Author of nature ! Well may we say, how great and wonderfully are we made !. I have now, Sir, to the best of my abilities, and as far as I understand the Doctor's book, given you the design and drift of his plan, and his manner of reasoning, as I conceive and re- member it ; for I have purposely avoided having recourse to the work, whilst I was writing this. I thought I understood him, and plainly per- ceived the connection of his chain of reasoning; therefore I chose to set down my thoughts as the work itself, and his frequent conversations on these subjects, suggested them to me at different times; imagining I might express my own thoughts in a more explicit and free manner, than if I wrote it directly from the book itself. I have undoubtedly omitted many of his arguments, perhaps some of the most cogent ; and 'tis not impossible, that I may have intro- duced some that are not his, but such as my conception of the thing supplied me with. This I know for certain, that all the light I have in this matter, I have received from him. I am sure I cannot have done him justice in any re- spect ; but in friendship to a man I have such a regard for, I beg leave to mention one difficulty he is under, which is in regard to his language. [ 136 ] From his scheme, it appears, he must necessarily make use of some abstract words, such as virtue, merit, reward, &c. &c. in a sense of his own : this may make him sometimes obscure ; but what could he do? He must either use such languag-e as the world does, or coin new ; and he chose the first, as liable to less objection, upon the whole. If I have given you any satisfaction, I shall think my time well spent ; for I am, with a true rCf gard, Sir, Your paost obedient, humble servant. [ 1S7 ] LETTER XXXIII. From Dr. Franklin /o David Hartley, Esq, MY DEAR FRIEND, Oct. 26, 1778. I Received yours, without date, containing an old Scotch sonnet, full of natural sentiment, and beautiful simplicity. I cannot make an entire application of it to present circumstances ; but taking it in parts, and changing persons, some of it is extremely apropos. First, Jennie may be supposed Old England ; and Jamie, America, Jennie laments the loss of Jamie, and recollects with pain his love for her ; his industry in busi- ness to promote her wealth and welfare, and hef own ingratitude. Young Jamie lov'd me weel. And sought me for his bride. But saving ane crown. He had naithing beside. To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gang*d to sea, And the crown Snd the pound were all for me. Her grief for this separation is expressed very pathetically. The ship was a wreck. Why did na Jennie die ; O why was I spar'd To cry, wae is we J [ rss ] There is no Joiibt that honest Jamie had still so much love for her as to pity her in his heart, thougli he might, at the same time, be not a little angry with her. Towards the conclusion, we must change the perons ; and let Jamie be Old England ; Jennie, America. Then honest Jennie, having made a treaty of marriage with Gray, expresses her firm resolution of fidelity, in a manner that does honour to her good sense, and her virtue. I may not think of Jamie, for that would be a sin. But I maun do my best, A gnde wife to be; For auld Robin Gray Is very kind to me. You ask my sentiments of a truce for five or seven years, in which no mention should be made of that stumbling-block to England, the inde- pendence of America. I must tell yon, fairly and frankly, that there can be no treaty of peace with us, in which France is not included. But I think a treaty might bt? made between the three powers, ia which England expressly renouncing the de- pendence of America seems no more necessary, than her renouncing the title of King of France, which has always been claimed for her kings. Yet, perhaps, it would be better for England to jict pobly and generously on the occasion, by [ 139 3 granting more than she could, at present, be compelled to grant : make America easy on the score of old claims; cedeall that remains in North-America; and thus conciliate and strengthen a young power, which she wishes to have a future and serviceable friend. I do not think England would be a loser by such cession. She may hold her remaining possessions there, but not without a vast expense ; and they would be the occasion of constant jealousies, frequent quarrels, and renewed wars. The United States, continually growing stronger, will naturally have them at last ; and, by the generous conduct above hinted at, all the intermediate loss of blood and treasure might be spared ; and solid, lasting peace promoted. This seems to me good counsel, but I know it can't be followed. The friend you mention must always be weU come to" me, with or without the cheeses ; but I do not see how his coming hither could be of any use at present, unless, in the quality of a plenipotentiary, to treat of a sincere peace be, tween all parties. Your Commissioners are acting very indis- creetly in America. They first spoke disrespect- fully of our good ally. They have since called in question the power of Congress to treat with them ; and have endeavoured to begin a dispute abont the detention of Burgoyne's troops, an r lio ] nffiiir which I conceived not to be within their commission. They are vainly trying", by pnb- lications, to excite the people ag-ainst the Con- gress. Governor J has been attempting- to bribe the members ; and, without the least regard to tmth, has asserted three propositions, which, he says, he will undertake to prove. The two first of them T know to be false, and I believe the third to be so. The Consrress have refused to treat with the Commissioners, while he continues one of them, and he has therefore resigned. These gentlemen do not appear well qualified for their business. I think they will never heal the breach, but they may widen it. I am, my very dear friend, Tour's most affectionately, B.F. [ 141 ] THE REV. WILLIAM GILPIN. Few English writers of the eighteenth century have gratified the public with such a variety of interesting publications as the late Rev. Wiluam Gilpin ; and of fewer still can it be said, what may be truly asserted of him, that he adorned every subject on which he wrote. In the various departments of biography, divi- nity', didactic composition, scriptural criticism, and the principles of the picturesque, he has displayed the power of the master; the piety of the Christian; and the Sensibility of the man of taste. As an amateur artist in drawing, he was original in composition, and spirited in execution; and, like Longinus, exemplified, in his own productions, those admirable principles which he laid down for the perfection of the art on which he wrote. The first publication of Mr. Gilpin, which en- gaged public attention, was Biographical Sketches ot his great ancestor Bernard Gilpin, and other reformers. These were followed, at different times, by admirable Lectures on the Church Catechism j an Exposition of the New Testament, with notes highly useful, and, in many instances, singularly ingenious and original ; Ob- servations relative chiefly to Picturesque Beauty, in several towns through England and Scotland ; Sermons lo a Country Congregation, in 2 vols.; Moral Contrasts; Amusements for Clergymen ; Forest Scenery, in a pic- turesque Account of the New Forest; and a beautiful Series of Dialogues, published as a posthumous work. C 142 3 But however splendid as a writer, Mr. Gilpin's chief claim to the admiration of his cotemporaries, and the imitation of posterity, arose from the excellencies of his professional, and the virtues of his private, character. i\fter having obtained a moderate competency, by fulfilling, for many years, most conscientiously, the important duties of the master of Cheam School; and being further assisted in his income by the small vicarage of Boldre, Hants, presented to him by his accomplished scholar, Col. Mitford ; he retired into the country, and settled himself on his living for life. Here it was that Mr. Gilpin's character, appeared in the most venerable and attractive point of view. To the inhabitants of a wide and wild parish on the borders of the New Forest, most of whom were in the humble ranks of life, he was at once the instructor, and the example ; the pastor, the friend, and the father. Reproving the vicious with authority, but mildness; encouraging the worthy with a judicious generosity ; instructing the ignorant with the most patient condescension ; visiting and relieving the sick; comforting the unhappy ; and affording advice and assistance to all who stood in need of them. Lively Iq his conversation ; cheerful in his manners; and with a countenance beaming benevolence and peace, he evinced, that the most ardent piety was compatible with innocent gaiety, and that true religion is ever the parent of joy and tranquillity. Moderate, rational, and liberal, in liis theological principles, he lost no friend by petulant dogmatism, and made no enemies by unchristian intolerance. Piety, in whomsoever it appeared, commanded his respect; it was only presump- tuous vice that excited his indignation. He lived till 4he age of 80, beloved and reverenced by those who knew him best; admired and esteemed by those to whom he was only known by his character and writings; [ 143 ] and closed his upright, useful, and exemplary life on the 5th April, 1804. He was buried in Boldre church-yard, where the following memorial of him, written by himself, is in- scribed, on a stone that marks the place of his grave : " In a quiet maneion, beneath this stone, secured *' from the afflictions, and still more dangerous en- " joyments, of life,, lie the remains of William " Gilpin, some time vicar of this parish ; together " with the remains of Margaret his wife. After *' living above fifty years in happy union, they hope " to be raised, in God's due time, (through the atone- " ment of a blessed Redeemer for their repented " transgressions,) to a state of joyful immortality. Here. " it will be a new joy, to see several of their good neigh- " hours, who now lie scattered in these sacred precincts ** around them. " He died April 5th, 1804, at the age of 80. She " died July 14th, 1807, at the age of S2." LETTER XXXIV. From the Rev, William Gilpin Iq Mrs, M. Hartley. Vicar's Hill, Jan. 31, 1 791 . BEAR MADAM, '^tT'OUR speedy and friendly answer merits -*- my thanks; especially as you wrote at a time when your heart was full, and not in unison with any little pleasantries, which might, pro- bably, have been the subject of my letter. -:liiiT [ 144 ] I was not acquainted with the friend you have^ lost; yet I knew more of her, than I do of most people of whom I know so little. I have often heard of her, from a Curate of mine, a very- ingenious young man, who went from me to be a tutor in her family. That family will, I fear, have a great loss of their good mother. I do not know, my dear Madam, that I ever opposed your favourite opinion. I think it by far the most probable, that we shall all meet to- gether hereafter ; though whether we shall form our friendships hereafter, exactly as we form them here, is, I think, a matter of some doubt. Here we love one another, and often contract our friendships, for the sake of elegant manners, natural affections, pleasing humours, good sense, knowledge, and a variety of other endowments and acquirements. Hereafter, I apprehend, these things will appear to little advantag-e, where accounts are to be settled by different degrees of Christian perfection. Now, it may happen, that in those accom- plishments, (if I may so speak, ) of humility, charity, a forgiving temper, and the like, which alone pass current hereafter, we may be above, or below, our late earthly friends , and will, therefore, be no more suited to form friendships with them, than an ignorant peasant is with a philosopher. But however these things may be [ 145 1 ordered hereafter, we may all make ourselves very easy in the reflection, that all will be ordered in such a way, as most undoubtedly to promote our best happiness* I am extremely glad j you like my Exposition of the New Testament ; and I had rather have your approbation, than that of half the learned critics in the kingdom. I remember, I affronted you once, by telling you I wrote for such readers as you, though 1 meant it as a very sincere com- pliment ; and in continuation of that compliment, I most earnestly beg of you, that, when you look it over again, you will do it with a pen in your hand. I value your criticisms very much ; for I look upon them as the criticisms of a sound, well-informed understanding, but devoid of those prejudices, which critics by profession are too apt to adopt. What you say of the last verse of the fourth chapter of Revelations, I perfectly agree with; and in my copy I have altered the passage, as it is in the original. ** For thy ^^ pleasure they are, and were created.'^ But in one point I rather differ from you. You wish I had left the sacred writers more in possession of their bold figurative expressions ; and had been more full in my explanations. With regard to the first, as I have just been telling a very sensible man, (unknown, though, to me,) who wrote to me on that subject out of Warwick- [ 146 ] stire, I cannot see how the harmony of com- position would have allowed me to do otherwise. You are still in possession of these bold figurative expressions : I admire them with you, but I do not pretend to vie with them. If I modernize one part, and not another, I fear I should pro- duce ratlier a disagreeable mode of composition. These bold flights, which are of a piece with the original scriptures, would agree ill, I fear, with the coldness of modern language. As to your exceptions to my conciseness, I hope they will vanish, if you will read attentively my title- page, which sets forth, that I mean chiefly to con- vey, as far as I can, the leading sense, and connec- tion. > What you were pleased with in the preface to the Acts of the Apostles, I do not know that I met with any where. When I beg the use of your critical pen, you will understand, I mean only the pen of your leisure : when you do make remarks, either with regard to the cojinection, or the sense, all I beg is, that you would put them on paper. ,As my design in attending to the Uadiny sense chiejly does not seem to be gene- rally taken up, I shall, in another edition, say Something more on the subject. Mrs. G. joins in best respects with, dear Madam, your very sincere W. GILPIN. t 147 ] LETTER XXXV, FROil THE SA31E TO THE SAME. Vicar's Hill, Aug, 15, 1793. I Wish, dear Madam, it were in my power to administer any comfort to feelings like yours. I hope, however, as one of yom* brothers is in a recovered state, you will have the satis- faction soon to find the other so to. But as God, often for his owu reasons, takes the wise and the good out of the woild, before the com- mon course of nature would probably remove them, if we could only persuade ourselves that God Almighty knows better than we do what is right, we should possess the true secret of bearing affliction. One should think there were no great difficulty in bringing ourselves to this conclusion; nor is there in theory; but /)?'ac'/R'e, way ward practice, makes the obstacle: and yet, perhaps, the philosophy of the Gospel does not require so strict an obedience to that great truth. A greater philosopher than any of the Stoic school allows more indulgence,! think, to human feelings. We mu^t consider his ex- ample as precept : and we are assured, that he not only had strong affections ; but it is recorded, that, on the death of a friend, ** Jesus wept.*' 1.2 [ 148 ] I hope, however, dear Madam, when I hear from you next, (and you will give me, at least, a few lines soon,) I shall find that you have had occasion, at this time, neither for the Stoicism of Christianity, nor its more indulgent allowances. About politics I shall' say nothing-, because your ideas are precisely mine : so that it would only be transcribing" a page from your own book. I will only say, that the French clergy at IFm- chester (where the King's house is fitted up for several hundreds of them) behave in the most regular, prudent, and frugal manner. I say this, because I remember giving you an account, in my last, of the improper behaviour of the French emigrants at Southampton, Believe me, dear Madam, Your truly, sincere, and most obedient servant, WILLIAM GILPIN. LETTER XXXVI. From the Rev. William Gilpin fo Mrs. M. Hartley. DEAR MADAr, Vtcars Hill, 1794. I Never did receive your letter of September 3d. I have all your late letters now lying before me, and I have none of that date; [ 149 ] nor do I remember receiving- any letter from Cirencester, but your last. . You and 1 think perfectly alike about Me- thodists. We object onl}' to the bad tendency of some of their opinions; but leave them willingly in possession of their flights bf enthusiasm. It appears to me, that by the merciful providence of God, the gospel has two great modes of access to the human heart; both, perhaps, conducive to the same good end. The one is through the channel of the imagination ; the other, through that of reason. The former is more adapted to the ignorant and unenlightened part of mankind, who cannot reason, nor see the force of evidence. The Methodists all seem inclined to this mode of address : they apply to the imagination, and endeavour to inspire enthusiastic fervours, which may be very conducive, I don't doubt, to incite piety and devotion ; but, if we grant that this mode of application may be of use to the igno- rant and uninformed, tlie sectary, on his part, should grant, that it is not adapted to general use. To convince the learned infidel, you must not open upon him with the absolute necessity of faith, till you have convinced him of the foundation of that faith : nor tell him affecting stories of the sufferings of Christ, till he is satisfied of the reality of those sufferings. A^in where worldly prejudices, and refined modes of I 150 ] immorality, have mixed themselves with Christ^ ian doctrines, some learning" is necessary to dis^ entangle all the maze of error ; and if the enthusiastic preacher call this worldly wisdom, I shall be apt to call him uncandid. Yon must not expect me, dear madam, to wish you *' a merry ChristmasJ'^ I never use that old, jovial wish of our ancestors : it sounds riotous in my ears. Nor shall I wish yon " the compli- ** ments of the season," which is only the same thing- in the dress of modern refinement. But if you will be content with my wishing you, in plain English, every happiness that is consistent with this world, and may be hoped for in the next ; I wish it with great cordiality. Your*s sincerely, WILLIAM GILPIN. LETTER XXXVIL From the Rev. William Gilpin to Mrs. M. Hartley. Vicar's Hilly Sept, 15, 1795, INDEED, my dear Madam, you need make no apology for '* troubling me with so ** much family history." You could not enter-, tain me more. There is no kind of reading I tSke piore pleasure in, than the lives and anec-? [ 151 ] tlotes of good people : and though I was not acquainted with the particulars of your father's life, as I had never seen the second edition of his work, yet I knew enough of him, to conceive him to have been a most respectable character. I think 1 told you in what high respect his writings were held by one of my intimate friends who was amongst the acutest reasoners, and the best men, I ever knew. I wish you would give me a catalogue of every thing your father wrote, and the date of their first publication. 1 do not think he wrote much, besides his chief work ; but I should be glad to hear from you. My acquaintance with a worthy clergyman, Mr. Green, of Hardingham, in Norfolk, was the oc- casion of my troubling you, at this time, with my enquiries about your father. I dare say 1 have mentioned this gentleman to you in some of my letters. I was never personally acquainted with him: but when I first printed my Exposition of the New Testament, he wrote me a very friendly letter, informing me, that ever since he had seen the Epistle to Philemon modernized, in the Christian Hero, by Sir Richard Steele, he had wished to see the whole Testament ex- pounded in something of the same familiar manner, and that mine had entirely met his approbation. And then, to evince his sincerity, he mentioned to me two or three passages, whyjU [ 152 ] he thought might be improved. As I received these corrections candidly, and wished for further remarks, he read the book critically -, and, from time to time, gave me several other remarks, almost all of which I adopted. This critical <*orrespondence,on scriptural subjects of different kinds, continued till his death, which happened at the end of the last year. After his death, his executors, or one of his friends, made me a pre- sent of his works, which were out of print ; and, at my desire, gave me a few particulars of his life, with which I was totally unacquainted. His works consist of translations, from the original Hebrew, (for he was esteemed among our best Hebrew scholars,) of the Psalms, and other poetical parts of scripture; and I cannot but think, he gave the first hint to the Bishop of London, Dr. Blaney, and the present Primate of Ireland, who followed, with translations of different parts of the Bible, in the manner of jVIr. Green. Mr. Green's Psalms were published sixteen years before Bishop Lowth published his Isaiah, which was the first of these biblical works I have mentioned. With regard to the parti- culars of his life f which were sent me, I find he had contracted an early acquaintance with Dr. Hartley, and that the Doctor's particular regard for him continued all his life, at Bath, and Q|her places, where the Doctor resided; but from [ 153 ] their mutual employments they seldom met. I conceived, at first, it must have been some other Dr. Hartley; but you have convinced me it could be only your father. I suppose you do not remember his ever meeting vi'ith Mr, Green at Bath, or elsewhere? or hearing your fathe*^ speak of him ? I have made an acquaintance lately with a gentleman, with whom, I believe, you are ac- quainted. Sir G. B. My brother brought him here, 'and they staid with me the best part of a week. Sir G. is a very pleasing man ; and, I think, deeper in the science of painting than almost any man I know. I am not acquainted with the school you mention, but I hear it well spoken of. A youngs heir in my parish, Mr. , is just sent to it. Tour's, very sincerely, W. G, LETTER XXXVIII. To the Rev, William Gilpin, from Mrs. M. Hartley. DEAR SIR, Feb. 18. I am much pleased to find that you took my letter kindly, and that you say it gave [ 154 ] you pleasure ; which I wished it should, though I was almost afraid to write, lest I should occasion your suffering" any fatigue in answering- me. Now that I write again, 1 must begin with telling you, that I only wish you to read my letter, and to give it a friendly smile. I know well, that, in illness, it is often too great an exertion to attempt any more. You say truly, that none of us can act up to our sentiments. Imperfect creatures as we are, and in a world of imperfections, it cannot be otherwise. But we have a kind Master, or rather a tender Father, who will look with a lenient eye on the failings of those who honestly endeavour to do well. It is not my business to compliment you, that is not the office of a friend; but I can have no doubt, that your own heart gives you comfort and support. I am not surprized, that, at the time when you had, as you say, " a near prospect of eternity ** you should think of nothing else." I was once in the same situation myself; but when life returns, the thoughts of the mind must, unavoid- ably, return to the visible objects of the world in which we live ; and if they did not, we could not go on to accomplish those duties which yet remain. I rejoice sincerely, *' that it has pleased ** God to pat you again into a state of exist- [ 155 ] ** ence;" and that you are " able again to lauo;h, ** and joke, and talk, about Lord Nelson, &c.; " in short, that you are become an inhaf)itant of ** this world, as you was before." This is a very comfortable hearing to your friends ; and 1 dare say, there is no reason to fear, that your worldly ideas will not be completely " kept <* within proper bounds." Those which relate to the improvement of mankind, are ideas which relate to both worlds; and, I am sure, you must feel great comfort in thinking, that your parish, and your school, may one day, by your assistance, obtain everlasting happiness. I do not remember that you ever before sent me " The short Explanation, 8fc. for the Boldre " School;" but I am much pleased to receive it; and I think it most judiciously adapted to the purpose. I am pleased to see every practical- duty clearly explained, while every abstruse and contested point is cautiously avoided. The little references that you make to natural history, and the growth of plants, the formation of animals, the influence of the sun, &c. and your Explana- tion of the Omnipresence of God, are certainly useful, in teaching the children to thinky and yet are exemplified in so simple a way, that ihey cannot mislead. Yet I never read a book of question and answer in my life, where it did not appe9,r to me, that such c^uestions were asked. [ 156 ] Mliicli it was convenient to answer; and that' perhaps, an acute and intelligent child might Iiappen to ask a few more, which might happen, also, to embarrass the instructor. The account of your Poor-house you had sent me before. I had been much pleased with the management of it, and the characters of tiie managers, Mr. and Mrs. S. Our worthy friend Mrs. is here. We often meet, and we often talk of you, and your family. She knew your father and mother well; and says, that your mother was a very amiable and valuable woman, and (as i/ou say) a woman of real sentiment ; tliat your father was a man of excellent temper, and of the most gentleman-like character and manners that she ever knew. I read to her those charming letters you have been so good to com- municate to me. With that of your mother, she ^yas as much pleased as 1 am ; but with that of your father, upon her death, she was affected, even to tears. Miss B. was here with her last night ; and after having talked a great deal about \ou, I ventured to read those two letters aofain before her ; for I knew she had taste enough to be worthy of them, and she was worthy. I then read her the long history of Scaleby Castle which you gave me in August 1:787 ; and after that, as the conclusion of the feast, your his- tory of th^ present desolated state of thnt ruin! [ '5* ] She was extremely delighted with that very picturesque account of the vaulted hall, now inhabited at each end by a wretched family, &c. This description always delighted me; it is sitch perfect painting,that every image appears before the eye. Miss B. enjoyed it so much, that I read it to her twice : but she took notice that your little note (that you was born and bred there) must be as unintelligible to every reader, as it was to me. No one could conceive, that you were the son of either of those two wretched families; therefore the imagination must form to itself some wonderful and romantic event, which must have compelled your mother to take shelter, in such a situation, at the house where you was born. But still the imagination must go farther on, to supply more invention for the cause of your being hred up there ; and I do not see how that could be managed, unless we sup- pose your mother to have been still confined there by some wicked fairy, or some cruel giant, like a princess in a fairy tale. Mr. and Miss say, that, when the next edition comes out, you ought to insert, as a note, that very letter in which you have given the history of your own family. I don't know whether I should advise your doing this yourself; but I shall pre- serve the letter; and some time or other, when you and \. are botU dead and gone, it may, perhaps, [ i-58 ] get into a biographical history of you, written by Boswell the Second. Your's, dear Sir, very tnily, M. IT. LETTER XXXVllI. To the Rev, William Gilpin, from Mrs. M. Hartley. DEAR SIR, Belvedere, 1709* A Communication through the atmos- phere, without the medium of pen and paper, would, indeed, be a delightful privilege. Plad such a communication been in my power, I should have conveyed my thoughts to you as soon as I became acquainted with yours ; but such powers are not allowed to mortal beings. It seems not unlikely that beatified spirits will have some mode of communication, far more facile than we have any idea of. It is true, that we are informed of no particulars concerning our future state; but we are, in general, assured, that to those who shall be accepted, no happiness shall be wanting ; and as we know that our dispositions are to be improved into perfect love and harmony, in society with innumerable multi- [ lo9 3 tildes of ** just men made perfect ;" I see no haroi in amusing ourselves with ideas of such blessed communications, as you allude to. All benevolent ideas improve the mind ; and while we are thinking* of social happiness in Ijeaven, we shall probably be more disposed to promote it upon earth. Your sermons, and the establish- ment of your school, are parts of such a plan ; and I hope you will see, in Heaven, those whom you have endeavoured to conduct thither; though I cannot help wishing, that your dismission may be still deferred, as long as this life can be made easy and comfortable to you. 1 have been looking back at your old letters, when we first discussed the subject of re-union with friends in a future state ; and 1 must ingenuously confess, that I have done injury to your senti- ments, in saying, that you seem to think there is no foundation for the hope of seeing and know- ing our friends again in a future state. On the contrary, I see, that in those letters you speak of it as highly probable, " tlfiit ue sliall unite ** hereafter with those with whom our souls hav9- ** heeu connected here :" but then you think that I lay more stress upon this enjoyment than it deserves. You tell me, that." we are directed to ** look up, not to the virtues of the creature, but " to the perfections of the Creator." You say, that, ' * if we hope to be admitted to the divine [ 160 ] " presence," from wlience we are taught that all our joys are to spring-, we cannot conceive that the greatest part of our happiness, or, indeed, awy material part of it, shall arise from conversing with creatures, whose brightest virtues are only dim emanations. What our admission to the divine presence may be, I cannot conceive ; neither do I imagine that you (though much wiser than I am^ can clearly explain to me; but though I must believe, that our knowledge of God's perfections, in a future state, will be far greater than it can be here, and our love and gratitude far more intense; yet, as the distance between the great Creator and his creatures is infinite, I should imagine, that, in heaven, as well as upon earth, (though more perfectly there) we shall know Him in great measure by his works : while we look up to Him, as the Author of all ^ with veneration and adoration, as well as love and gratitude, our intimate and familiar com- munications will be with those emanations of virtue, which have received their source from Him. You say, in another letter, that the continuation of our earthly attachments is not among those future considerations which the scripture holds out ; and this I must acknowledge to be true j for the scripture gives no particular description of those joys, which " eye hath not *' seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered t 161 ] ** wto the heart of man to conceive." Yet we are told, that we are to be associated with " the " spirits of just men made perfect j" that " we ** are not to grieve for our departed friends, as " those would do who have no hope." This certainly conveys an idea, that we shall meet them again : but 1 agree with you entirely, that, in many cases, it is probable, the attachments of this world, and those of the next, may not co* incide. You say very truly, that ** our attach- " ments here are often formed without sufficient ** knowledge; that we know not our own heart, " much less the hearts of others ; and that we have * frequently too much reason to repent the hasty ** friendships we have contracted." These hasty friendships, and all friendships that are not built upon virtue, will certainly be dissolved. Taste, genius, congenial manners, habits, and associa- tions, and even union in the pursuit of knowledge, in a world where all the knowledge that can be acquired here shall vanish away, where the phi- losopher and the peasant shall be upon a level, will not be a sufficient foundation for the friend- ships of eternity. But gratitude surely will! And though you tell me, that t may possibly contract a friendship with an Ethiopian, or an Asiatic, of whom I know nothing in this world, I think it more natural to conceive, that the first affections of my mind will turn towards those .>i M [ 162 1 from whom I have received the most serious and the most virtuous obligations here ; towards those, whose advice and example directed my youth; and towards those, who, in the course of my life, have confirmed every principle of virtue in my Qiind, from the bright pre-eminence of theirs. In ismy instance where I have loved without judgment, and have not found real virtue, though I thought I had, I cannot expect that my mis- taken friendship will be revived, till the objects of it become as sincere and worthy as I had tl^ought ,them. According to * idea, this time wiWJijiaUy come to every one; and the whole creation will be, in some future day, a family of love and union. In the progress to this state, though our souls may be far above one another ift. perfection, no one will look down upon ano- ther, b(ut those who are the farthest advanced vvill lend their most strenuous endeavours to b^ing forwards those who are striving to come up with them. There vvill be no jealousy, no envy^ po wish for pre-eminence, in heaven. All ^iJlljQve GpD with their utmost powers, and all (y^ill, love their fellow-creatures as themselves, .enjoying. happiness in unison with others, and ,not wishing for peculiar favour, even from God, to themselves individually. The heavenly civility which you speak of, .^viis^ ,be. universal, unlimited benevolence. ,, It * Dr. Hartley. [ 163 1 is certainly very probable, that particular at- tachments may be formed in heaven, as upon earth, by particular circumstances; and none seem to me more probable, than the remembrances of those virtuous obligations which are past. 1 do not quite like an idea, ihat I have some- where seen, " that one spirit may visit another, *' as a lord does a commoner, or, it may be, as a ** commoner does a lord, *' Bowing low, *' As to superior spirits is wont in heav'n." Although this is a line from the divine Milton,. I think it is not one of his sublime thoughts. The conception of angelic beings, their minds,, and their manners, are subjects of too high i flight for even a mind like his; and he does not excel so much in his descriptions of the Divine Being, and of angels, and archangels, as of men and demons. , . Uear feir, your s smcerely, M. H. LETTER XXXIX. J^rom Mrs. M. Hartley to the Rev. William Gilpin. DEAR SIR, Ju7ie 18, 1800. I Received your kind and cheerful letter with great satisfaction. I hope it denotes M2 r 164 ] bodily ease, as well as peace of mind. Undoubt- edly I do think '* cheerfulness a good attendant " on illness ;" and I am glad that you agree with me. I think it is a mark of resignation, and confidence in God, though there are times in the varying states of bodily infirmities, when the mind is not capable of enjoying it. What you say of your different sensations^ has put me into a train of reflections. Without ^ny gloomi- ness of mind, I can perceive, both from reason and revelation, that this world is a state of trial ; and, as my favourite author Butler expresses it, a state of moral discipline^ and of education, to fit us for a more perfect state. But I hope, that those precepts which you quote, *' touch " notf taste not, handle not,^^ relate only to things that are wrong. For when we consider the goodness of our bountiful Creator, and the beau- tiful objects with which he has (as you say) replenished the world; who, that is not mo- rose or melancholy, can conceive that it is a duty to shut our eyes to beautiful objects, or our ears to harmonious sounds ? These, surely, are natural pleasures, and suitable enjoyments for innocent minds, not onlj harmless, but bene- ficial, when they interfere with no moral duty. If they do; if the fine prospect, or the concert, employ time or money which is due to any usq- ful or charitable purpose ; they should certainly [ 165 } be relinquished; as any other favourite pursuit should be, when it interferes with duty. This I conceive to be the reason, why you have never indulged your genius to iis/uU extent, but have thought it better to be a vigilant pastor, than a great painter. The elegant arts may have lost by this preference, but the virtues have gained ; and when you shall hereafter see your well- instructed flock surrounding you in bliss, how will you rejoice, that you have given so much of your time and thoughts to them ! The histories we have of the lives of Christ, and his Apostles, do certainly give us no account of their enjoying even the most natural and in- nocent pleasures. Nothing is recorded of them, but the good they did, and the persecutions they endured. I often think how greatly their lives were different from ours. Theirs were past in labours and suffering, ours in peace and tran- quillity ; but I hope it may please God to con- duct some to perfection " by prosperity, as ** others by adversity." Both are trials; and the different state of the world produces dif- ferent kinds of trials. In their day, Christianity was persecuted; now it is established, at least in externals. Whenever the perfect and interior adoption of its benevolent precepts shall come; when all men shall do good, and not evil ; to t^ach others the virtues of patience, forbearance. [ 166 ] and forg-iveness of injuries, will Iwive no place. But shall we be then less virtuous, because we are more happy? Such a state, indeed, is not 3'et arrived, but I trust in the providence of God! that it is arriving, though by slow degrees; and that the day will come, in which all rice, and all misery, will betaken away. We know, at least, that it will be so in heaven ; and your " idea, that ^' we may possibly be there presented " with scenes of transcendent beauty, to which " the scenery of this world may bear some faint " resemblance," is like a thought which formerly occurred to Milton, when he made the Angel Raphael say to Adam, " What if earth *' Be but the shadow of heay'n, and things therein, * Each to other like, more than on earth is thought .-" Such ideas are pleasing to our imaginations ^ as they are now formed ; but I do not feel curious on the subject : It suffices me to know, that God intends our happiness; and to believe, that, at the end.y nil his creatures will be grateful to Him, and kind to each other. The manner I am well content to leave to his providence. Farewell, dear Sir ; I wish to you, and Mrs. Gilpin, a pleasant and happy suipmer ; and 1 am your ooliged and affectionate friend, M. H. [ 167 ] LETTER XL. 7 * From the Rev. Mr* Gilpin to ****. DEAR SIR, Vicar's Hillt 1794* ACCORDING to your desire, IWv'i looked over your work with a critic's eye; and I have taken great liberties with your stile, which I do, upon the principle of performing a tnisti You may adopt, or not, as you please. A good stile,* in my opinion, consists in the fewest and easiest words, arranged in the simplest and most natural order, and running as smoothly as the ear will admit. On these principles I have usefd my correcting pen -, all quaint phrases, and em- barrassed sentences, should be avoided. Ydti There are a sort of writcr, who presume, like the Pharisees of old, that they shall be heard for their mucn speaking. They puzzle and dim that argument^ with ingny -words, which might be made clear and convincing in a few. These arc tiresome, and do the mind little service. Ever when you write, or speak, (unless you intend to mislead,) give your argument simply, with clearness and shortness'; Use no more words than are necessary to give it, and to enforce it ; thus your single sheet shall be remembered^ and made use of, when volumes of Eimllies and metaphors are forgot. //.>;... f 168 ] will find an example of what I mean by an embarrassed sentence, in the middle of the 46th page; where you must read two or three lines, before you can guess what is to come. With regard to the work itself, I think it a t^ery entertaining one ; but still I think many things might be added. You say little of drink. The history of bread might be useful and enter- taining. You might tell us how the poor lived ; and, with regard to the conclusion, I think you are much too short : you might introduce a little more morality ; you might draw equal instruc- tion from the necessities of mankind, and from their luxuries; you might shew, that the stomach of a man is able to convert into aliment a greater variety of things, than the stomach of any other animal ; which shews, (what the naturalist proves, from his being better able to bear the extreme^ of heat and cold,) that he is fitted by nature to bear every climate. Indeed his reason assists him, by the art of cookery, to alter and adapt his food. It is a melancholy consideration, that while half mankind are pining in want, the other half are consuming the blessings of heaven in intemperance. These and other similar obser- vations occur. You make much use of the word viands; I have always erased it. People take ^islike3 to words, I conceive viands to be rather t J59 3 a poetical word ; at least it is not so plain and good a word, I think, as food. I am, my dear Sir, Your faithful obedient servant, WILLJA,M GILPIN. LETTER XLI. From the Rev, William Gilpin to ****. BEAR SIR, Vicar's Hill, April 1795. I Received, yesterday, the book you were so obliging to order for me; and I return you my best thanks, both for it, and the honour I see you have done me. When I see a beautiful prospect, I commonly take a general view of the whole together, before I examine particulars. Such a view I have already taken of your book; and I find, though I am no antiquary, a great variety of amusing matter for me to speculate upon, at more leisure. I used to tell you, formerly, I did not think your stile quite simple enough. As far as I have yet read, I think your work is written with more ease ; and yet I met with a few sentiments, which, perhaps, might have been otherwise expressed. In the first paragraph, for instance, instead of [ 170 ] the imagery you employ, the sentence would, I think, have run more easily, if you had barely said ************ When you write, keep always in your mind what a great critic says of him, qui nil molitur inepte. I hope you will consider this freedom as a compliment: I mean it as such^ I assure you, to your candour. I suppose you have seen Wyndham's Account of the Isle of Wight, but I dare say you keep clear of him. I have by me some strictures on the Isle of Wight ; but I keep clear of you all, for mine are chiefly picturesque. Sir John D'Oyley shewed me some old coins, which, I think, he said you gave him. You know I admire these things only as an artist, and I thought those coins among the most beau- tiful of any I had ever seen. We make no such dies now, as some of the first Caesars. My wife and sister beg their best compliments to your family; with those of, dear Sir, your sincere and most obedient servant, WILLIAM GILPIN. [ 171 ] LETTER XLII. From the Rev, Wm. Gilpin tained an audience of Lord Chatham, (then Mr. Pitt^) and made proposals to him, from Prince Heraclius, ia behalt' of Armenia : but the difficulty of the enterprize, and the uncertainty of any result beneficial to this- [ 179 ] country, prevented Government from espousing his cause. At another time, Ameen served in the British army in Germany ; was known to, and continually near, the commander in chief, who called him " his lion's " heart." At the battle of Minden, he afforded ample proofs that this appellation had not been undeservedly bestowed. He served also, for a short time, under the King of Prussia, but left his array in disgust; highly incensed both with the Monarch, and Sir Joseph York; with the latter, because he had not given him a letter to the King of Prussia ; and with the King, because he would not suffer him to be near his person. He after- wards went lo Russia, where he experienced much kindness, both from the Empress, and the English ambassador there; and from thence found means to reach his native country, and join, once more, Prince Heraclius in Georgia. He corresponded, for some time after his return to Armenia, with the late Lord Lyttleton ; and in his last letter informed his Lordship, that he had at length re- luctantly relinquished the idea of exciting a military spirit among his countrymen; that they were devoted to a mercantile life, and must continueto live anddie slaves. Ameen possessed little of " the milk of human " kindness;" but he had all the virtues of a partizan; and, had his energies been aided by the zeal of his own countrymen, and the assistance of other govern- ments, he would, probably, have transmitted a name to posterity, as deservedly celebrated for patriotism and military success, as any of the heroes, either in ancient or modern times. N 2 [ 180 ] LETTER XLV. From Joseph Ameen to the Earl of Northumberland. IVtY LORD, 17 > TT Present you with the specimen of my writing, -- that I promised : it is too bold, I am afraid^ td make myself the subject, when I write for your Lordship ; but forgive, my good Lord, the language of a stranger. I have been in too low condition, to know how to write proper to your Lordship; but you spak to me more kind and humble than mean people, so I am encouraged. I have very good designs, and I have suffered much hardships for them. I think your Lord- ship will not despise a person in mean condition, for thinking of something more than livelihood. 1 l>ave,with a very good will, thrown behind me a Very easy livelihood for this condition, mean as it is ; and I am not troubled, if I can carry my point at last. As long as I can remember my own family, ^and I remember my grandfather,) they have always been soldiers, and always did remember Christ. Though they were torn out of their country by Shah Abbas, and planted in Hama- [ 181 1 dan, they were soldiers still. Two of my uncles did spill their blood in the service of" Kouli Khan ; my father was his slave for many years, but he was at last forced to fly into India, be- cause this tyrant had sharpened his battle-axe more upon his own army, than upon his ene- mies. Soon after, my father sent for me to Calcutta, where he is a merchant. There I saw the fort of the Europeans ; and the soldiers exercise, and the shipping, and that they were dexterous And perfect in all things. Then I grieved with myself for my religion, and my country, that w were in slavery and ignorance; likje Jews, vagabonds upon earth ; and I spoke to my father upon all this, because our fathers did not fight for their country : but I understood that the black Armenians, in the mountains, were free, and handled arms from their childhood; and that those under the patriarchs, who are subject to the Turks and Persians, did not want couraage ; but they are all ignorant, and fight only with wild natural fierceness, and so they have no order, and do nothing but like robbers. And 1 resolved I would go to Europe, to learn the art military, and other sciences to assist that art : and I was sure, that if I could go into Armenia like an European ofificer, I might be useful, at least, in some degree, to my country. But my father did not listen to me ; [ 182 ] for God did not give him understanding in these things. I could not bear to live like a beast, eating and drinking without liberty or knowledge. I went to Capt. Fox, of the ship Walpole, and kissed his feet a hundred times, to let me work for my passage to Europe, before he would bend to me ; but he did at last admit me, and I came to England with much labour ; but it did not grieve me, when I thought of my country. I entered, with my little money, intp Mr. Middleton's academy. 1 had the honour to tell your Lordship so before. I was first a scholar, and when my money was gone, I was then a servant there for my bread ; for I could not bear to go like a dog, wagging a tail at people's doors for a bit of bread. I will not grieve your Lord- ship with the miseries I went through j I do not want to he pitied. I got service at last with Mr. Robarts, a grocer, in the city. For this time I carried burdens of near 200/6*. upon my back, and paid out of my wages to learn geo- metry, and to complete my writing, and just to begin a little French : but because, my Lord, I almost starved myself to pay for this, and carried hurdenH more than my strength, I hurt myself, and could not work any longer; so that I was in despair, and did not care what did become of me. A friend put me to write with an at- [ 183 1 torney in Cheapside, which for a little time ^ot me bread : but 1 was resolved, in despair, to go again to India, because nobody would put out his hand to help me to learn ; and my uncle sent 60 to Governor Davis, to carry me back. I am afraid I am too troublesome in my ac- count to your Lordship; but we people of Asia cannot say little, and a great deal, like scholars. Now I met, by chance, some gentleman who encouraged me, and gave me books to read, and. advised me to kiss Capt. Dingly's hands, and shew my business to him. He was a brave soldier ; took me by the hand ; spoke to his Ser- jeant, an honest man, to teach me the manual exercise ; and gave me Toland's Military Dis- cipline, and promised to help me to learn gun- nery and fortification. But I was again unfor- tunate; for when light just began to come to my eyes, he died, and I was like as before, except that I knew a little of manual exercise, and had read some of the Roman history'. I could learn no more, nor live; I was broke to pieces, and bowed my neck to Governor Davis, to go over to my friends, without doing any of those things I suffered for. I am in this net at present, but am happier than all mankind, if I can meet any great man that can prevail on Governor Davis to allow me something out of the money he has (only oa [ 184 ] eondition 1 return, that I return to blindness again i) that I may go through evolutions with recruits, and learn gunnery and fortification ; and if there is war, to go one year as a volunteer. If Governor Davis writes that I have a great man here my protector, ray father, who looks upon me as a person run away, and forsaken, will make ^le an allowance to learn. If I could clear my own eyes, and serve my country and my religion, that is trod under foot of Mussulmans, I would go through all slavery and danger with a glad heart; but if I must return, after four years slavery and misery, to the same ignorance, with- out doing finy good, it would break my heart. My Lord, in the end, I beg pardon. I have experienced of your Lordship's goodness, else 1 would not say so much. I would not receive, but return, And I want nothing, but a little speaking from the authority of India Governor to my friends. I have always been honest. Those I have been a slave to will say I am honest. Mr. Gray trusted me, Here is a sort of story, nothing but your Lordr ship's goodness can make tolerable to you. \ am much obliged to your Lordship's patience ; and shall be very proud of giving your Lordship all the proof in my power, that I am your Lordr chip's very much obedient and humble servant, JOSEPH AMEEN, [ 185 ] LETTER XLVr. From Joseph Ameen to Prince Heraclius, To the most shining, most Christian King, Hera^ clius, of Georgia and Armenia, these. MY KING, 1755. ALL things that have been from the beginning of the world to this day, are by the will of God. According to the scriptures, " all " things were made by Him, and without Him " was not any thing made that was made." God created the heavens and the earth, the sea and the land ; and it is he that made you king over two nations, Armenia and Georgia. Gloi*y be toGpD,the Fatherof our Lord Jesus Christ, that made you defender and protector of these Christian nations, and of their faith ; which have been for many hundred years under the hands of your Majesty's family. The same God will, I hope, deliver those Christians who are under the hands of Ottomans. For there is no difficulty in the mighty hands of God; and whoever trusts in Him, shall not be alarmed. It was He that delivered Israel by the hand of the prophet Moses, out of the hands of Pharaoh, and fed them with manna, according to the holy Psalms, which [ 186 ] saith, " man did eat the bread of Ang-els." May the same God preserve and strengthen the wrist of your Majesty, to defend us from the encroach- ments cf barbarians. Amen. Having- heard the fame of your Majesty's brave conquest, by which you have possessed the two kingdoms of Georgia and Armenia^ and that at present they are under your Majesty's pro- tection; being desirous, from the readiness of my soul, to offer yourMajesty my services, which I beg you will make no difficulty to accept ; as money is far from the desire of your Majesty's servant, who wishes nothing but to serve him who has the rule over his nation; for while I am here, I want nothing. I have a great friend here ; and that friend is my protector ; and that protector is the son of the King of England. If it please your Majesty to instruct me in your will and pleasure, that I may petition to this great Prince, in order to obtain leave to come and serve you as an European officer, according to my low abilities; and that I may teach your soldiers to fight like Europeans, who are well known to your Majesty, that with a few men they overcome many. Your Majesty has heard of the German nation, who, with no more than 20,000, are able to give battle to hundred thou- sands Mahomedans or Turks, and enemies to the Christian nations. I would also acquaint your [ 187 ] Majesty how it is, and by what means the Eu- ri^ean nations are such conquerors, and so brave warriors. First, a man is obliged to enter himself in the house of exercise, which they call here an aca- demy, to learn, or to study, four or five years, the art of war ; that is to say, the art of building strong castles, the like of which are not to be found in all Asia; and also the art of managing" great guns in such manner, as none of our for- tifications could stand before them for three days. Likewise, the manner of encamping, with judg'- menit; and the way of ranging the soldiers, so that they are like a wall of iron, not to be broken: and after having thoroughly completed his study in that art, he leaves the place, goes and offers himself and his service to his prince or king ; thereby becomes an officer, or fighter for his King and country, and by long experience per- fects himself in that great art. For the art of war here is not to be undertaken easily. It contains many things difficult to be known by Turks or Persians, and very much preferable to the mere strength of arm. See, O King, it is not by the strength of arm that these nations are called conquerors, but by wisdom and art. Here every thing is by art, and by w isdom ; for with- out wisdom the land is not land, and the nations that dwell therein are blind and unhappy. Ac- [ '88 ] cording to the Old Testament, which saith, ** God made the heavens, and the earth," by his infinite wisdom, therefore God loveth wisdom. For this reason, I say, whoever foUoweth wisdom, be is dear to, and beloved of God ! For, from M'isdom proceeds all manner of g^oodness : also, a man is not righteous without wisdom, nor wise without rig^hteousness. The ancient Romans, who were so great, gave jaws, and subdued all nations of the world : this was by art and wisdom, before our Saviour, al- though they were idolaters. But they were virtuous, and lived in good morals. Another example. Peter the Great, of Russia, who used not to be so great a warrior, and his country, could never have been so blessed, and flourished, had he not come over here to learn wisdom ; who, when he was in Holland, served in a place of ship-building like one of the labourers, and humbled himself therein. ** Whosoever hum- *' bleth himself, shall be exalted," &g, : and when he returned into his own country, he was full of all manner of wisdom, by which he made himself father, as well as lord and king, over his country. These are things which made the people of Europe to be conquerors, and to be esteemed more wise than all the nations upon the face of the earth. For among them are learned me, who study the way in which God hap made [ 189 ] all things according- to their nature; by which they are able to do things of great wonder and usefulness. They send, likewise, into every part of the world, at a great expense, for to learn all things that are produced upon or under the earth, by which they are increased in wisdom and riches; their riches are very great ; their people are very happy, not being afraid of fame or danger ; and they are under excellent laws, by which no man is suffered to do wrong to another, though he be weak and poor. But this nation, this great and mighty na* tion, O my King, where I live, are not only a great and wise nation, but also destroyers of the devourere of mankind; 1 am surprised to see, that even the sheep in this country rest in quiet- ness, without fear of the wolves. May the great God grant your Majesty's subjects to follow their example, and to grow wise and conquerors, under the wisdom and cou- rage of your Majesty; to whom God grant long life to tread your enemies, like dust, under your feet. May it please your Majesty to know who your servant is, that raises his head to speak to you, and takes pains to know these things, with much labour, for your Majesty's service, to whom God give victory. [ 190 3 The name of yo*ur servant is Ameeri^ the son of Joseph, the son of Michael, the son of George^ who is descended from Ameen, who, in the day that Armenia was broke under the battle-axe of Shall Abbas, was IMinbaschy in his country ; but he was made captive, with others, and was car- ried into Persia, and planted at Hamadan. From him your Majesty's servant is come, and he is called of his name, being- born al Ha- madan. But our captivity was grievous ; and the Persians, who, since their Mahomedanism, (which is so well known to your Majesty,) are grown quite barbarous, not being so civilized as they were in ancient times, according to the histories I have read in this blessed island ; so that my father fled from Hamadan, in the time of Shah Thcemas, and Kouli Khan, into India, to a place called Calcutta, where the English have fort and soldiers, and a great trade, though their country is seven months voyage from Ben- gal. There my father made himself merchant to this day ; and would have made me such as himself, but I did not submit to him. For I enquired of my fathers, from my infancy, the reason why we were persecuted by infidels, and why we did reside so contemptibly among law- less nations. But they made me no answer, and my heart was grieved, and I had none to comfort me in my grief 3 for I said, " the ants that creep t 191 I ** upon the earth have a king*, and we have not;*' and the nations of all countries make their song upon us, also persecuting us, and saying to us, tliat " you are masterless ; you have no king of " your own; you resemble the Jews scattered " upon the face of the earth ; you have no love " for one another, you are without honour, and, " by the disunity of your nation, all the nations " insult you. You are contemptible, and without ** zeal; and you are as great lovers of money, atf " the heathens were of their gods.'* I could not bear all these reflections, so I grieved, and found none to heal me. I observed watchfully the Europeans, their wise customs, and their shippings far better, both for sailing and for war, than the ships of the Indians ; and above all, the practice of their soldiers, who, if there were thousands of men, by one word of command from their officers, instantly altogether move and act, as if they were one man. Then I thought in my mind, that i% was God that had put in my heart to think on all these things ; therefore I spoke not to my father, but had hopes in my heart, that if I went to England, I should learn the art of war ; and I was encouraged; for then I heard a little (and not much) of your Majesty's name, until I came here ; where 1 learned that your Majesty was established in your kingdom, and had routed a great army of Persians. See, O my King, whftt C 19^ J a gtea.iih\n^ the wisdom is, by which this natidif know our country better than we do ; and that this nation is awakened, and we are asleep. Orf board the ship I worked like a sailor ; and after- wards, when I came here^ I was so reduced, that I was forced, by hunger, to offer myself to sale upon the Bazaar, to be sent into the New World. O, my King ! do not pity tne! Not even at the time that you hear of, or see, me sacrificed in your service ; but pity those servants of Christ/ who deserve pity 4 But the omnipotent hand of God saved me by an Englishman ; and the same! God, who heard the crying of my heart, did put it into the heart of a generous Nobleman, who is one of the pillars of the throne of England, to assist me* He made me explain the counsel of my heart ; he made me known to the son of the King of England; he sent me to the place of education, where I learned the art of war ac- cording to wisdom. My ambition is, to lay my knowledge at the feet of your Majesty, and to serve you to the best of my abilities. For know, O my King, that what is not built upon knowledge, though it was so very strong and lofty, is, as it were^ built upon sand. Therefore, my purpose is to go well instructed into your Majesty's service, and to carry with me men skilful in all things, (if you give me encouragement,) to strengthen t 193 ] {Etiid polish your kingdom, like the kingdoms of Europe ; for you have a good country, and com- mand over many brave men : and if you could gather the Armenians, a rich and trading people* who are scattered to the east, and to the west, and the noilh^ and the south, under the protec- tion of your Majesty's mighty arms, in your own country, no kingdom in the east would be like your kingdom, for riches and glory. May the eternal Got)> the Father of our Lord Jesus Chjrist, sharpen your scymetar upon all your enemies, and strengthen the wrist of your Majesty's right-hand, to protect our distressed nation, according to the wishes and labours of your servant, JOSEPH AMEEN. LETTER XLVIL From Joseph Ameen to his Father, MY FATHER, London, 17* THE son of virtue is bravery, arid bravery cannot be without virtue: for as the ISon proceedeth from the Father, so bravery does from virtue. More plainly to speak to thee, O ray father ; thou art a virtuous man ; and if 1 am thy true son, I am bound to be Q t 194 ] brave j by which I may be worthy to be callet! thy son, and also worthy of the name of that of our great forefather, Ameen. O my father Joseph, the reason of my departure from thee is to obtain bravery. What are thy thoughts ? Dost thou think, that I am come here only to learn the English language ? No : I am come to learn the art of war, which is preferable to all the art* upon the world j this art is so precious, that it is always spoken of in the presence of Caesars and kings. By this very art we are to give battle against the persecutors and enemies of our Christian nation, which stands captive under their hands. It is inexpressible, the pre- ciousness of this great art ; for without it, it is impossible that our religion should ever shine. We shall always be persecuted under our ene- mies, if we do not strive to learn it. My father, these were the reasons of the departure of thine only son ; and when I used to mention them to thee, instead of commending me for it, thou didst always insult me, and turn thy countenance from me, as if I was speaking of treason. And now I would not tell thee so plainly and openly my mind, if I had not accidentally met a Noble- man, who, when he was made acquainted with the counsel of my heart, and the hardship which I underwent for the sake of my nation, was sur- prized; loved me like a, father; gave me money; [ 195 ] jlpoke of me to the son of the King* of Eng^land, and also to several Noblemen. Again, he asked me what was my design, that made me come away from my father? And when I made answer, and said, that I am come to learn the art of war, still he loved me, and comforted me^ and said to me, " Be contented, I will make interest for ** thee to the son of our King, to give thee order " that thou mayest go to the place of education, " and learn what thou desirest ; where are all the ** sons of noblemen learning the art of war, and ** thou shalt learn the same with them." my father, be glad 3 for GOD is with me. I am not come here to learn luxury and extravagancy; I am come to obtain worthiness, to learn wisdom, to know the world, and to be called a perfect servant to my sheeplike, shepherdless, Armenian nation. Again, know ye, that if you had made a present, or had spent 5000 rupees, you could not be able to get me such great and noble friends. Therefore, it is Almighty God that has showered down upon me his infinite mercy; for it is He that knows the counsel of my heart, and my heart is unto Him. He is Father of all that trust in Him ; without Him is nothing, and nothing can be done. Michia, my uncle, you seem to be very angry with me, my beloved. What were my sins ? Why have you forgot me in that manner ? Why o 2 t 196 J don't you comfort me with a pliilosophical letter of yours? I have driven myself even to deaths for your sakes; and instead of encouraging me, you think me a prodigal. I believe, that you have heard of the wrath of my sweet father, who had rejected me from being his son. After his Jlrrival on board of the ship, he sent a letter to the hand of my shepherd David, and it was written in this manner : " Brother David, knowest thou so far, that *' there is no absolution for Ameen, my son ; ** unless he is ci'ucified, his head downward, for " the sake of his nation^ as Apostle Peter was^ ** crucified.*' Thou seest he was comparing such a sinner as me to that great saint } but he should have patience to stay, that I might obtain worthiness first, and then be crucified. He thought that he could pronounce that word crucified with ease ; but he did not imagine the difficulty of the loss of his only son : and after all those great torments and hardships which I have been under, I am beginning to make his name and yours to shine. You all desire me to return j ignorant I came, ^d ignorant you would have me to go. You are indebted to hearten me, I am con* tented to obtain an empty letter, either from thee, or from my father; even that you will not do. O^my compassionate uncle, if I have siuned t 197 ] before my father, tell me what evil have I been culpable of towards you ? why you forsake me so? I know, within myself, that it is only my Ruler David, who bears and weig-hs the torments and smarts from my father. My father cannot l^lame you ; for, at the time of my desertion, you was at Soidapad; and my Ruler David at Calcutta, from whence I took my flight ; there- fore, let me die for him ; let my blood be under his feet. It is true, that you are my shepherd ; but he is only my Ruler and my manager, my comptroller and my comforter, my supporter and my teacher. I cry, I roar for David to see; but in vain, 1 cannot and thou, Mirzabeck, the soul of my soul, ******** My Ruler David, thy favour of the 3d of February, from Hugley, arrived here the 14th December, 1755, by the hand of John Mills, to the hand of Stephanas Coggian ; but I did not iee the person who brought thy letter. I received it from Stephanus* It was a great joy to me to obtain such a fatherly letter from thee; and I was very thankful to God for having such a Ruler as thee in this world. My sweet father is a little angry with me, that 1 did not submit to his will ; but I know within myself, that a fruit- ful tree is dear and humble, its branches bend to the ground. Therefore, while I am fruitless, it is impossible for me to obtain humblenew ; [ J98 ] but when I am fruitful, it is natural then I should be humble. A second example. A valiant warrior, while he is in the battle, is oblig-ed to appear proud; first, among his soldiers; secondly, ag-ainst his enemy ; and, if he should obtain a conquest over them, it is then natural to appear humble, if he is a true warrior. These are my less understanding thpughts; may your great wisdom approve them. I last year sent two letters, by the hand of Mr. Davis, to the hand of Mr. Manningham. to be given to you. I am in great hopes that you will perform what I have already desired in them; to write to Mr, Davis, to pay me the money deposited in his hands; but it not, let it then be your pleasure. Let me tell you, that I have no need of money here : but you will all repent, for not believing your son, So much is sufficient to your understanding, if you read this letter with care and wisdom. But if you please to be friends with me, it is a debt upon you to do thus. First, to write to Mr. Davis, to pay me the 500 rupees; secondly, a letter, with great thanks, and presents to this my protector Nobleman, of whose name I shall mention in this letter. The presents that you shall send me are as follow: ***** They may be worthy of this great Nobleman's lady, whose great spirit and generosity is higher [ 1^9 ] than language, and who herself stooped down io take notice of me. ) < . My father, you will thmk that I don*t w&nt to come home to you. Don't you think so. I long for it. My longing is measureless ; and it is so great, that I cannot explain it. Your love is as hot in my heart as fire; and for the sake of that love, I have first made myself a mariner, and laboured hard for six months ; secondly, when I arrived here, I did serve to Stephen, like a captive; thirdly, after turning me out of his house, three weeks I lived upon threehalf pence a day. 'Fourthly, I went to sell myself, but Pro- vidence sent to me the son of my schoolmaster, who delivered me from being recaptive. Fifthly, I have lost one year's service. Sixthly, I was a load carrier, a porter, for two years, and paid .17 out of that laborious and slaving employ- ment to Stephen, who spent for me while I was with him. And at last, from portership, did arise myself to clerkship. There I have writ about three months ; and absented from thence, I was again driven into my old distresses. O father ! without money, without friend, but the Lord in heaven ; until, one day, this great man, whom I have mentioned above, who had heard of my character, sent me his servant, and 1 was admitted to him; and when I was come into his presence,* after knowing my counsel, and the law which is r 200 ] for you, and for my nation, he was surprized, and said to me, " Ameen, it is very hard to live ** in this country without friend, and without " money, almost four years; therefore the Lord * is with you. Be contented ; I will from this ** time provide and furnish you with all neces- " saries;" and, said he, ** 1 will mediate to the ** son of our King- ; and, after you have learned * the art of war, 1 will send you to your father " and uncles," The noble lady comforted me likewise, and said, ** Don't despair ; he glad ; *^ O zealous for thy country, Ameen." Be not afraid, then, my father. Almighty and Sabath God it is, that has put in my heart to depart from you, and come here, that I might be able to serve my masterless country. Therefore, pray to God for me, with a strong mind, with trust and patience. The name of the nobleman is the Earl of Northumberland ; he is a lord of a great worth with the King of this land. Great men, and nobles, all that know him, love him; and it is three weeks since he knew me. I dine at his palace ; and he has given me a good deal of money and books; his goodness and friendship is measureless. Many times I dined with great men here, through his friendship. It is to him that I am indebted for great strength and com- fort I receive from a nobleman^ calied Sir Charles Stanhope, who is father to me. He iias- [ 201 ] made pais known to another nobleman, called my Lord Cathcart, who is a soldier, and gave me much encouragement. Once more be glad. As to what I have writ to you, perform it. The loss of seven years I shall repair in one month ! God Almighty will ideliyer us from all di^^ cjulties. Be ye all in health! J. A, [ 202 ] DOCTOR SAMUEL JOHNSOX, AND JOSEPH FOWKE, Esq, Op the colossal intellect, varied learning, exemplary inorality, and warm piety, of the celebrated Samuel Johnson, it is unnecessary to say any thing; since the general opinion, with respect to this extraordinary man, seems to be, .that " take him all in all, we ne'er " shall look upon his like again," A few particulars, however, of one of his correspondents, Joseph Fowii^e, Esq; who had the honour to be considered as a " dear " friend" by the Doctor, may not be uninteresting to the reader. This gentleman, who died three or four and twenty years ago, at a very advanced age, was born about the year 1715, and entered into the service of the East-India Company at the age of 17. He remained at Fort St. George till n48, and was so high in the opinion and esteem of his employers, that when he returned to England he was pressed by the Secret Committee of the East-India Directors, (in whom the regulation of the affairs of the Company was then entirely placed,) to accept the government either of Bengal or Madras. This offer being made previously to the conquests of Lord Clive, and the cession to the English of the great provinces of Bahar and Orissa, was by no means so advantageous as it might at present be considered. Mr. Fowke, therefore, declined it ; and remained in England until 1771. At this period he returned to India; where some differences of opinion unfortunately occurred between him and the Provisional Government, which ended in his being tried in June [ 203 1 1775, in the Supreme Court of Bengal, under two indictments. In the first of these trials the verdict Avas, not guilty. In the second, which came on irame- tliately afterwards, and in which Mr. Fowke was imr plicated with Maha Rajah Nundocomar and Roy Rada Churn, the verdict was, " Joseph Fowke and Nundo- f comar, gujity ; Rada Churn, not guilty." In the year 1788, Mr. Fowke finally quitted Bengal with a recommendation from Lord Cornwallis to the Court of Directors, as a person entitled to receive the pension which was promised to their servants, return-r ing froui Bepgal out of employment, under their ge- neralletter, dated Sept. 21, 17S5; which directed, that '' such senior merchaut, whose fortune was not equal " to 10,0001. should receive as much annually as, with " the interest of his own money, should make up an ^'income of 4001. per year." This recommendation, together with a petition, was presented to the Diiectors on Mr- Fowte's return. They were, however, rejected, And an answer returned, " that the Court did not con- "sider him as coming under the description of persons '* entitled by their orders to receive pensions; and that, " therefore, his request could not be complied with." After a lapse of some time, the claim was discussed iri the House of Commons, when the following resolutions were made in his favour. "Resolved, That it appears to this House that the " petitioner, Joseph Fowke, has proved the allegations ^of his petition. *' Resolved, That it appears to this House, that the " said Joseph Fowke is entitled to the pension or al- " lowance engaged to be paid by the East-India Com- ^' pany to their servants, under certain descriptions, and " under certain conditions, expressed in their letter from " the Court of Directors of the 2 1st of September, [ 204 ] '*'l785, to the Governor-General and Council of Ben- ** gal, from the time in which, by the said letter of the "21st of September, 1785, persons described ia the *' said letter were to receive the same." Mr. Fowke retained the vigour of bis intellects to the close of his life; and what, perhaps, is still more remarkable, wrote, till his death, a hand of singular firmness and beauty. The activity of his mind, and liveliness of his imagination, remained to the last; as will be evident from the following letters,written at, or nearly, the age of 80. His conversation was sprightly and entertaining; highly seasoned with anecdotes, many of which related to his great and venerable friend, Samuel Johnson : among these he was accustomed to relate the two following. One morning, on Mr. Fowke's calling on Dr. John- son, he found the] Sage somewhat agitated. On enquiring the cause, * I have just dismissed Lord " Chesterfield," said he j *' if you had come a few ''moments sooner, I could have shewn you my letter ** to him." Then musing a little, he added, "How- " ever, 1 believe I can recollect it pretty well :" and immediately repeated a very long and very severe epistle ; much longer, Mr. F. used to say, than that which is given by Boswell. Mr. F. further remarked, that, upon this occasion, Johnson told him, Lord C. sent a present of lOOl. to Johnson, to induce him to dedicate the Dictionary to him ; " which I returned," said he, " to his Lordship with contempt:** and then added, '' Sir, I found I must have gilded a rotten " post ! Lord C. Sir, is a wit among lords, but only " a lord among wits.'* Mr. Fowke once observed to Dr. Johnson, that, in his opinion, the Doctor's literary strength lay in writing biography, in which line of composition he iafinitely [ 205 ] exceeded all his contemporaries. " Sir," said John- son, " I believe that is true. The dogs don't know how *' to write trifles with dignity." Then, speaking of tlie difficulty of getting information for the subject, he said, that when he was writing the life of Dryden, he desired to be introduced to Colley Gibber, from whom he expected to procure many valuable materials for his purpose. " So Sir," said Johnson to Gibber, "I find "you knew Mr. I>ryden ?" 'Knew him! O Lord, I * was as well acquainted with him, as if he had been * my own brother.' ' Then you can tell me some *' anecdotes of him?" *0 yes! a thousand! Why we * used to meet continually at a club at Button's. I re* ' member as well as if it were but yesterday, that whea * he came into the room in winter time, he used to * go and sit close by the fire, in one corner ; and then * in summer time, he would always go and sit in the * window.' " Thus, Sir," said Johnson, " what with " the corner of the fire in winter, and the window in " the summer, you see that I got much information, " from Gibber, of the manners and habits of Dryden." LETTER XLVIIL Wrom Br. Samuel Johnson to Francis FOWKE, Esq, SIR, July U, 1776. 1 Received, some weeks ago, a collection of papers, which contain the trial of my dear friend, Joseph Fowke ; of whom I cannot easily [ 206 ] he induced to thiuk otherwise than well, tixtd who seems to have been injured by the prose- cution and the sentence. His first desire is^ that I should prepare his narrative for the press; his second, that, if I cannot gratify him by pub- lication, I would transmit the papers to you. To a compliance with his first request I have this objection, tliat I live in a reciprocation of civilities with Mr. H., and therefore cannot properly diffuse a narrative, intended to bring upon him the censure of the public. Of two adversaries, it would be rash to condemn either upon the evidence of the other ; and a common friend must keep himself suspended, at least till he has heard both. I am, therefore, ready to transmit to you the papers, which have been seen only by myself f and beg- to be informed how they may be eon- Teyed to you. I see no legal objection to the publication ; and of prudential reasons, Mr, Fowke and you will be allowed to be fitter judges. If you would have me send them, let me have proper directions; if a messenger is to call for them, give me notice by the post, that they may be ready for delivery. To do my dear Mr. Fowke any good woidd give me pleasure; I hope for some opportunity [ 207 ] of performing the duties of friendshi[j to him, without violating them with regard to another. J am. Sir, your most humble servant, SAMUEL JOHNSON. LETTER Ltl. From Dr. Samuel Johnson to Joseph FowKE, Esq, DEAR SIR, April 19, 1783. TO shew you, that neither length of time, nor distance of place, withdraws you from my memory, I have sent you a little present,* which will be transmitted by Sir Rob. Chambers. To your former letters I made no answer, because 1 had none to make. Of the death of the unfortunate man, (meaning Nundocomar,) I believe Europe thinks as you think; but it was past prevention ; and it was not fit for me to move a question in public, which I was not qua- lified to discuss ; as the enquiry could then do no good, and I might have been silenced by a hardy denial of facts, which, if denied, I could not prove. Since we parted, 1 have suffered much sick- ness of body, and perturbation of mind. My * A coUeaioa of the Dodor's works. [ 208 ] ii^ind^ if 1 do not flatter myself, is unimpaired, except that sometimes my memory is less ready ; but my body, though by nature very strong, has given way to repeated shocks. Genua labant, vastos quatit teger anhelitus artus^ This linfe might have been written on purpose for me. You will see, however, that 1 bave not totally forsaken literature, I can apply better to books than I could in some more vigorous parts of my life, at least than I did; and I have one more reason for reading ; that time has, by taking away my companions, left me less oppor- tunity of conversation. I have led an inactive end careless life ; it is time at last to be diligent.- There is yet provision to be made for eternity. Let me know, dear Sir, wliat you are doings. Are you accumulating gold, or picking up dia- monds? Or are you now sated with Indian wealth, and content with what you have ? Have you vigour for bustle, or tranquillity for inaction ? Whatever you do, I do not suspect you of pil- laging or oppressing; and shall rejoice to see you return, with a body unbroken, and a mind uncorrupted. You and I had hardly any common friends j and, therefore, I have few anecdotes to relate to you. Mr. Levet, who brought us into acquaint- ance, died suddenly at my house last year, in his seventy-eighth year, or about that age. Mrs. [ 209 1 Williams, the blind lady, is still with me, but much broken by a very wearisome and obstinate disease. She is, however, not likely to die; and it would delight me, if you would send her some petty token of your remembrance. You may send me one too. Whether we shall ever meet again in this world, who can tell? Let us, however, wish well to each other. Prayers can pass the line, and the Tropics. I am, dear Sir, yours sincerely, SAMUEL JOHNSON. LETTER L. From Dr. Samuel Johnson to Samuel Richardson, Esq. DliAR SIR, May 17. AS you were the first that gave me any notice of this paragraph, I send it to you, with a few little notes, which I wish you would read. It is well, when men of learning and penetration busy themselves in these enquiries ; but what is their idleness, is my business. Help, indeed, now conies too late for me, when a large part of my book has passed the press. [ 210 ] r shall be glad if these strictures appear to yoa not unwarrantable ; for whom should he who toils in settling a language desire to please, but him who is adorning it? I hope your new book is printing. Made nova virtute. I am, dear Sir, Most respectfully, and most affectionately, ^ Your humble servant, SAMUEL JOHNSON. lETTER LI. From Joseph Fowke, Esq; to **. London^ June lOth, 1701. MY DEAR FRIEND, IN recovering my acquaintance, after an absence of twenty years, it is an infinite pleasure to see no diminution of excellence in the souls of those, with whom I was formerly connected in friendship, on the strength of in- ternal merit ; and that their beauty continues the same, whilst the ravage of time has fright- fully deformed the earthly vehicle. In con- versing with you at a distance, I view in you the chants of youth ; for virtue is immortal^ and [ 2" 1 always in bloom. Your charity, innocence i benevolence, and, above all, your holy sub- mission and patience in suffering", will scarcely allow nie to think of the deformity of the tene- ment; but, on better recollection, 1 survey tb^ ** wrinkles and dull luminaries with delight ;'* the palsied hand inspires no terror, since the disproportion of body and spirit is a practical^ and, at the same time, the strongest, argument I know, independently of revelation, for the im* mortality of the soul. Happy should I be, if I could look back with your innocence on a past life ! All that is left for me is, to pay more regard to the future ; which I hope I shall not neglect. Before I received your letter, I had b.een acquainted with your sufferings. I pray God, that you may have seen the end of them*- and that the remairider of your days may pass! in uninterrupted tranquillity and content. Your benevolent soul will receive some gra- tification, I am surcj from the perusal of the en- closed Resolutions of the House of Commons in my favour. If I get nothing in consequence^ they are honourable to me at any rate^ as they were carried almost unanimously. I owe every thing to the zeal of Mr. Burke, who took up the cause of a stranger, favoured by no recom- mendation, on the principle, that no British subject ought to be aggrieved, without finding p2 [ 212 ] redress from the Commons of Great-BritaiJl He has been indefatigable in the pursuit of his object ; and I hope he will be paid by the public with the increase of that reputation he deserves. Favours are much enhanced by the manner in which they are conferred ; and the following notice I received from Mr. Burke on the7th inst. will shew how well he understands that secret. " I don*t like to give you joy, till the money is in " your pocket. **** shewed a disposition to " mutiny, and to disobey the House, till next ** session, on the pretence that it was thin. But *f at any rate I resolved to go on. The Re- ** solutions in your favour are passed. I am " sorry for your illness. *#*** " Dundas. behaved admirably and decisively. '*{ 1 am happy in having contributed to your **. satisfaction, and &c. &c." Should I get an increase of income, I shall very likely treat ****, some part of the summer, with a tour through England, after two years* imprisonment ; and in this tour I shall contrive to see you, if possible, y Farewell ! and believe me ever Yours, &c. JOSEPH FOWKE. I 213 1 LETTER LII. From Joseph Fowke, Esq; to ****. London, June 11 /A, 1792, MY DEAR FRIEND, I can very truly say, I have been made happy by the receipt of a letter from you of the 7th of May, 1792, as it breathes a spirit of ease and tranquillity in a situation which many would think a state of trial and affliction. To see virtue triumphant, affords me at all times the highest gratification possible ; and I will still hope, that, in a little time, you may be able to acquire a free use of your crutches, which will be a considerable addition to your happiness. The opinion I entertain of your candour and sincerity, fully convinces me that you would say nothing to my advantage that you did not think| but the same sincerity on my side requires, that I should undeceive you in the too favourable opinion you entertain of the powers of my imagination, in supposing them undiminished. I never had much to boast of, but I have now [ 214 ] scarcely a ray of light left to cast lustre upon any subject. The other part of your compliment respecting my attachment to my old friends, I can honestly take as my due. My heart is warm as ever to true merit ; yet I always fear to pour it forth, lest its effusions should be mis|;aken for the flattery, which too commonly prevails in the yvorld. I frequently suffer pain in sup- pressing grateful acknowledgments for kind- nesses that have been done me, when my wish has been to give an entire vent to my feelings. I entirely agree with you, that family know- ledge is not to be neglected in the education of a young woman; and I can assure you, that *** will bear a strict scrutiny on this head : and I have a proof in her, that domestic concerns are no way incompatible with literary pursuits. She took leave of you, much disgusted with her drawing performances; but has lately taken her pencil up again, under the tuition of Mr. Edwards, who instructs the academicians. He draws in your style, and is, iq iny judgment, an able teacher. draws in perspective, and pursues that very closely; but is not yet perfectly reconciled to her geometrical lines, and the an- gles A, B, C, and C, D, E. Whatever improvements / may hereafter Xfi^kCf at my late time of day, must be fronj L 215 ] the living, and not from the dead ; I have not attention sufficient for a book, or I should cer- tainly have read Home's Elements of Criticism, upon your recommendation. I have much from a friend of mine in praise of , from the account you gave of her and ^ I lament that I have no opportunity of knowing- them. These are the treasures I hunt after. " Give ** me the man," says Bruyere, or something like it, ** from vi'hom books are made." When- ever they fall in my way, I endeavour to make prize of them. Ah! where shall I find another Johnson, who, with all his failings, was a very superior being? I am sorry his biographei*s cannot be brought upon their trial for murder : it would be no difficult matter to convict them. I acquainted you, in a former letter, with the hopes I entertained of Mrs. Montague's notice of ****. She has, in the course of the winter, invited us both to dine with her. Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Chapone were of the company ; and 1 am sorry I did not learn the names of either of them till next day. I had formerly been in company with Mrs. Carter, at Mrs. Mon - tague's, about thirty years ago, but the least trace of her image remained not on my mind; so she has passed from me like a shadow, most likely never to be viewed more. I partake deeply in your concern for the loss of****. It [ ?16 ] is natural to grieve for the loss of a relation or friend, but it is seldom we can be justified in it. We may justly be allowed to grieve, where we entertain doubts for the salvation of a person departed j but in every other case we ought to rejoice, and it is selfish not to do it. It is rebellious, at the same time, not to submit with cheerful resignation to the will of the Almighty who made us. You have made use of the softest balm to your wounds, by submitting with pious resignation to his will. If you should happen to fall in company with Lady ****, you will find her pleasing, and most amiable for her philanthropy. There is no distress that she will not go to the bottom of her pocket to relieve. With a great deal of volatility, she is moral, and perfectly correct. Her daugh- ter **** has all her virtues, which are many, without her imperfections. By great pre- ferment in the Church, and many legacies, I understand that is now become rich, which I am very glad to hear. The Miis- sulmen of India, of highrank, invariably con- clude their letters with, " May you have (jreat ** riches! what can I say more?" /do not impart this wish to my friends ; for 1 look upon great riches as the bane of all happiness. Farewell. I am afraid I have tired you ; and who is not wearied with the gabble of fourscore? [ 217 ] I have, however, eight months to run, before I asaine that venerable title. Believe me ever your sincere old friend, JOSEPH FOWKE, LETTER LIII. From Joseph Fowke, Esq. MY DEAR FRIEND, Sept. 17, 1793. I Am much flattered by your enter- taining letter of the 22d of last month, pre- ceded by another without date. If my faculties were not become torpid, you have thrown matter enoug'h in my way for the subject of a very long letter; but, in my present state, I can write or read very little. I am a great deal more disposed to talk with you; and sincerely regret that I am not likely ever to have that pleasure, unless you would make a bold sally, and honour me with a visit this summer. You shall have a good apartment, and your own will [ 218 ] in every thing ; which is no small bribe to a lady. You mnst pardon my replying to your favours with more brevity than is suitable to my inclinations. Plain and sincere professions of friendship and regard for those whose talents and virtues render them useful to society, are all the qualifications left for me in a correspon- dent. The hand of time has taken away the rest, and has given to dulness poss(3Ssion of the vacant spaces, which were occupied by imagination in the early part of my life. But, cold as I am, I was happy to find I could yet be delighted with agreeable scenes of your pointing out. The ruins of Tintern Abbey were beautiful beyond any thing of the kind I have ever seen ; they would, however, have been at least half as much more so, if you had been present to assist ine with your remarks. There were many other .rich scenes, all familiar to you, I dare say, which fed my fancy in a tour of four hundred, miles; and both my companions and myself enjoyed them the more, as we gained an addi- tion of health through every stage, which has continued to us ever since. I repeat again, with sincerity, that I wish you had been with us, for your own sake as well as for ours. There is no ffoing through life without a little self- interest. I am willing, however, to think that few are less governed by it than myself. Not [ 219 ] many will flatter an old man; and, therefore, I liope I may be indulj^ed in flattering' myself. I congratulate you upon the recovery of your Jiberty. I had long been expecting- to hear of the spring you made, but I am afraid you did it with a little too much violence; however, I am glad to fipd that chance produced a good e fleet, as it often does, where reason might have failed ; or, to speak more properly, Providence took care of you, when you did not know how to take care of yourself. I am inclined to believe, that this incident might be further improved to your advantage. You have heard, no doubt, of Indian Fakeers holding their arms stretched up in the air till they have become fixed, like the branches of a tree. After enduring this penance for years, they will recover the perfect use of them, by constantly rubbing them with oil. I am satisfied, if you had followed the same method, you would not have suffered from any contraction of the sinews of your leg ; and, perhaps, it might not now be too late. I judge native oil of turpentine to be the best for the purpose. The mention of India brings me to another part of your letter. I do not, in the least, wonder that Mr. Hodges has succeeded so well in his publications. I predicted, in India, that he would do so, without seeing them, and for no other reason than the originality of [ 220 :] his subjects. Sixteen years ag-a, I observed, oa viewing some Indian prospects, that the imagination of Claude Lorrain would have been much improved by them. An inferior genius to Hodges would have profited in his situation ; by which I do not mean to rank him in a superior class, I mean only to lay a particular stress upon the advantages of original perform- ances. Perhaps I am less disposed to favour him, from having seen his landscape paintings only, for which he was paid an extravagant price; and they were executed so slovenly, that, in a very little time, you could not tell what they were intend to represent. As I could not help ad- miring the celerity and freedom of his hand^ one may suppose, that he could have done better, but preferred gain to reputation. The defects 1 mention would not appear in the prints. In respect to Moorish architecture, I know not what he has represented, or what he may have seen, but nothing / have seen will bear a comparisjon with Greek and Roman architecture. Yet, I will not deny that some of the Moorish buildings are elegant ; in which class I reckon a Moorish mosque at Buhnares; but such speci- mens are not common. After all, I am con- fident you hav6 been more pleased with the drawings, than you would have been with the originals. The pencil, in many instances. [ 221 ] surpasses nature ; and I know of nothing else that does. If you were to draw a little cottage with some few trees about it, and, at a distance, the owner returning from his labours, passing by a cow grazing, and a few sheep feeding, I should dwell longer, and with more pleasure, on the copy than the prototype. This is a fact which I am unable to account for; at the same tiraa it must be acknowledged, that no painter could even approximate the beauties of the sun setting in the ocean, crowned with a gilded canopy of such varied tints, as fascinate the eye to the object. Why is a painter so much inferior in one part of his art, and so superior in the other? I, who am no artist, cannot answer the question. Mrs, , who is one, and eminently distin- guished as such, possibly may. After all however, you are so much better qualified than myself to judge of Mr. Hodges's merit as a painter, as to render all I might say on the merits of his pictures perfectly useless; but, in respect to his biographical talents, I shall not be equally reserved. How can it be sup- posed, that any man, after a residence of two or three years only in the country, and not understanding a word of tlie language, should be capable of describing, with justness, the character of its inhabitants; and particularly as the pencil was scarcely ever out of his hs^nd? [ 222 J 1 do not think it possible to form air idea; of a people, without possessing* the means of con- versing- with them freely. In such a state, confidence wilt be wanting ; and without coi^ iidence the character to be drawn will always be exhibited in disguise. What Mr. H. says of the loving wives of the Hindoos burning them- selves with their husbands is true, but not common ; nor i it so much to be wondered at in very high-minded persons, who live with every possible mark of disgrace, if they survive them.- But 1 cannot subscribe to his character of Hindoo gentlenss and simplicity. The ladies, of any rank or fashion, among them, are all kept out of sight ; and such as become widows, in general, burn with a less pure flame than he describes, and are very dexterous ire their intrigues. The lower class of women are the most violent scolds I have ever known; far exceeding any thing that Billinsgate produces - and the lower ranks of men are furious, but their fary is the fury of cowards. The men of fashion j whether Hindoos or Mussulmen, are extremely polite and well-bred; far excelling us in their manners, if we except the first class of polite people in England. But, whatever their vices or virtues may be, I always behold them with tenderness, as a people who have felt tlie rod of oppression, which must ever stifle t 223 ] great virtues. Such of them, however, who have taken to arms, have afforded many illus- trious examples of heroism; I may say, uncom- mon ones, such as we should be puzzled to match. You will be pleased to observe, I have /Spoken only of Bengal Hindoos; those of the Decan, passing under the name of Gentoos, are, even at this time, a much better people, and, forty years ago, were the most virtuous people upon the face of the earth. Returning to them in 1772, after an absence of twenty years, I found them deplorably changed for the worse; partly from necessity, and partly from a more intimate commerce with the English and French, But I have gabbled too long on this subject; and though twenty others rise naturally out of it, I will do violence to my own inclinations, rather than tire out your patience by my garrulity. Adieu, then, my dear friend, and believe me. Your affectionate humble servant, JOSEPH FOWKE. [ 224 3 LETTER LIV. From Joseph Fowke, Esq, 3Ialmesburi/, SepL 11, 1797. MY DEAR FRIEND, ACCOMPANYING this you will re- ceive the ear trumpet you did me the honour to commission me to provide. I most sincerely wish you may never be forced upon the use of it. No terms can be found adequate to the miseries attendant upon the loss of hearing. In society, the sharpest of all human afflictions become tolerable. The wretch chained to the oar for life, feels relief from the animating con- solations of his fellow-sufferers ; and a prisoner in the Bastile has prolonged his life by an association with a spider. But the social prin- ciple, which is clearly the first and governing one of our lives, is totally destroyed by deafness. The deaf man can make no new friends ; and his old ones will forsake, because they cannot help, him; and the benevolent and tender-hearted will drop a tear, and retire. The busy and the gay will say, " he is off," and pass on to their amusements without difficulty. What happi- ness, then, shall be found for the man cut off [ 225 1 from the society of mankind ? There isi only one left for him, which is, to relieve, to the utmost of his ability, those objects of deep distress which will constantly fall fii his way ; and their grateful effusions are likely to make full amends for all his own wants. Upon your recommendation, the Female Mentor has obtained a place in my library. The work has a great deal of merit, and has afforded me and others much entertainment in the reading. The well-imagined and happily- executed drawing you were so obliging to pre- sent me with, and for which 1 return you my best thanks, has been bound up in its proper place. There is another performance of yours, which I wish you would have engraved 3 it deserves to outlive you. It is the visit of a miser to his cash- chest, with a lighted candle in his hand, which, flawing, happily divides his concern between that and the cash-chest. The cash-chest was securedf but the candle is wasting f Farewell I and believe me, in truth and sincerity. Yours, &c. JOSEPH FOWKE. [ 226 ] LETTER LV. From Joseph Fowke, Esq; to **** Malmeshuryy Nov. 20, 1797. MY DEAR FRIEND, IT was not my intention to have an- swered so soon your obliging letter of the 13th September last, had not I determined upon becoming an inhabitant of ****, in a few days ; where I shall for some time be busily occupied in providing myself with a house to suit me ; by which I might incur the censure of neglect, in not giving you notice of my arrival, from my want of leisure to wait upon you, I have lived at this place, by the necessity of my circumstances, for above eight months, with little other employment than counting the pebbles under my feet nearly separated from all mankind, I wished a thousand times for your happy turn to solitude, but in vain: we are all impelled by the bent of our natures, and to that we must submit. My disposition leads me to company ; and now I cannot hear, I am happy to see people's lips move, though I cannot distinguish a word, or even hear a sound. For several days past I have been so deaf as to be able to converse with one person only ; and that [ 227 ] with difficulty, and by the help of an ear- trumpet. Tt would be unreasonable in me, labouring under such great infirmities, to expect any attentions from a busy and interested world. The most I can hope for is to be in- dulged in half an hour's conversation three or four times in a year ; so that yon see, instead of breaking in upon your private hours with ****, devoted to the affairs of this world, I will not promise that you will have as much of my com- pany as you might partially incline to favour me with. But this I faithfully promise, that you shall have as little of it, and as seldom, as you please ; I will allow you, for old acquaintance sake, to lay the most rigid commands on me, which I shall painfully comply with, without diminishing one tittle of the respect I have for your character. Frequent removals do not agree with old age; but I must submit myself to the evil of necessity, which reconciles us to every thing. Adieu, and believe me ever Your sincere friend, JOSEPH FOWKE. o2 [ 228 ] Mrs. MONTAGUE. The following perticulars ralating to this accom- plished female, alike remarkable for natural talent, acquired information, and uncommon benevolence, (whose praise will live long in her works, but longer in the remembrance of her compassion to a degraded and oppressed set of human beings, Chimney-sweepers* Apprentices,) are extracted from '* Nichols's Literacy " Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century y ix vols. ^vo. ;" in which the venerable, learned, and very respectable author, from his own immense stores of information, and the large and diversified communications of intel- ligent friends, has poured forth such a flood of literary and biographical anecdote, as is not to be equalled, for variety and interest, by any work in the English language. " Mrs. Montague's father was grandson of Sir Leo- '* nard Robinson, youngest son of Tho. Robinson, esq; of Rokeby, in Yorkshire. Her mother, Elizabeth Drake, * was a Cambridge heiress; andduring her residence in ' thatcounty, Mrs. Montague, then Miss Robinson, deri- * ved great assistance, in her education, from Dr. Middle- " ton, author of * The Life of Cicero^ whom her maternal " grandmother had taken as a second husband. Her ** extraordinary talents, as well as beauty, appeared from her earliest childhood. At this period she formed an * intimacy with Lady Margaret Cavendish Harley, who, " in n34, married the late Duke of Portland. This " was cemented by her frequent visits to Wimpole in * Cambridgeshire, then the seat of Lord Oxford. Her letters to this correspondent,which were preserved from " her twelfth year, shew her astonishing prematurity of [ 229 ] " wit and language. Her ' Essay on the Writings and " Genius of Shakapeare,* in answer to the frivolous " objeat to every thing by inconstancy ; As he reasons without principle, his irea^on has its fits, like the folly of others. He has a clear head, arid a corrupt heart ; he thinks of every thing, and treats every thing, with derision. He is a libertine, without a constitution for pleasure; and he knows how to oioralize, without mo- rality. His vanity is excessive; but his avarice is still greater than his vanity : he therefore writes less for reputation than money, for which h^ may be said both to hunger and thirst. He is in haste to work, that he may be in haste to live : he \!vas made to enjoy, and he determines only to hoardi Such is the man, and such is the author'* '* There is rio other poet ill the world, whose verses cost him so little labour ; but this facility of coriipo- sition hurts him, because he abuses it : as there is bt little for labour to supply, he is content that littlef should be wanted ; and, therefoi-e, almost all his pieces are unfinished. I5ut although he is an easy, an in- genious, arid an elegant wi^iter of poetty ; yet his prin- cipal excellence would be history, if he made fewer reflections, and drew no parallels ; in both of which, however, he has sometimes been very happy. In his last work he has imitated the raahniCr of Bayle; of whom, even in his censures of him, he has exhibited a copy, it has been long said, that for a writer to be without passion and without prejudice, he must hav*. neither religion nor country ; and, in this respect, M. Voltaire has made great advance* towards perfection. He cannot be accused of being a partizan to hii nation ; he appears, on the contrary, to be affe1Y DEAR FRIEND, York, OcL 3, 1780. TTT iswith ^reat pleasure that I comply with - your wishes ', and take up my pen to trans- mit to you my observations on the Houghton Collection; which I can never hope to see again, and the recollection of which 1 shall be glad thus to fix in my memory. I cannot help mentioning the Prodigal Son, by Salvator Rosa, as the first ; because I found it by far the most interesting picture in the collection. There is truth, nature, and expres- sion, in it; the strongest character of distress and contrition in the countenance, and yet an extraordinary eagerness of expectation in the eye, which is eartiestly cast up to Heaven, as if expecting some comfort and assistance from thence, in consequence of his repentance. X looked at the picture, till I could almost believe it to be a real person. You know my great partiality for Salvator Rosa's works; there is something great, wild, and sublime in his stile, that is more Pindaric (if I may be allowed the exprewjioij) than in that of any other painter.^; This pictuie, and the Belisarius, which I saW: i [ 288 ] afterwards at Lord Townsend's, are thef U^o nest pieces of his that I ever beheld. I think 1 shonkl give the preference, upon the whole, to the Belisarius; there is more dignity in the distress, which makes it more affectino-. If there be any fault in the Prodigal Soil, it is, that he does not look sufficiently like figentlcrnan^ and, therefore, does not impress, strongly enough, on your mind, the recollection of the state from which he is fallen, and which should have ap- peared as a strong aggravation of his present distress. Whether it is owing to this, or whether it is not at present the fashion to like Salvator's black stile, this picture is sold (as I apprehend) much too cheap j in comparison of many others in the collection. It was valued only at 700.; whereas a picture, at the upper end of the gallery, of Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar, by Pietro de Cortona, which I should think far inferior, was valued a* 1000. Two flower-pieces, by Van Huysum, in the cabinet,, at 1000; and a little highly-finished picture, but an odious subject, (David, Bathsheba, and Abishag,) by Vanderwerff, at 700. The Albano, also, over the chimney in the saloon, of Christ baptized by St. John, is valued at 700. They say it is a better picture than any large work that ever was done by Albano ; but it is far inferior to Salvator's stile, in that [ 289 ] Ivhich affects me most, and which 1 should call the poetical part of the art. Salvator^ like Shakespeare, gives you triith> nature, passion, character, reality ; while AlbanOj Carlo Marat, and his scholars, Pietro de Gortona, Eustache* Le Senar, and many others, play upon the eye 5 some by pretty attitudes, and some by pretty colouring*, and penciling, rather than address themselves to the heart. I will not say that this is the case with Poussin ; for though his attitudes are beautiful, his figures as perfect as antique statues, and his compositions correct and classi- cal> yet I find them very often affecting, particu- larly that picture in the gallery, of Moses striking the Rock; in which the earnestness of many of the figures is very interesting. I am sorry to say the figure of Moses is least so. That pic- ture is valued at 900; and its companion, the Continence of Scipio, at 600. This is a very fine picture too, though 1 think not so interesting. The Celtiberian Captive is beautiful : she is very much covered with ^ blue drapery, but her attitude is that of the Venus de Medicis* But the picture which is estimated at the highest p ripe, and is the most universally admired, is that of the Doctors of the Church, consulting about the immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary. This is valued at 3500. The richness and clearness of the colours, the eleg^aut figm*^ V I 290 j bf the Virgin, and the little angels, (who are all in the clouds,) and the varied attitudes of the doctors below, deserve the highest encomiums ; indeed I never saw so fine a picture in all these respects, bat the subject is totally uninteresting ; and the expression of doubt, (though that is as Well expressed as possible in the various attitudes and faces of the doctors,) is, perhaps, of all sentiments of the mind, that which gives least- pleasure to observe. *^ Where something important depends upon the pfogress of conviction, and where you see the idiflfererit degrees of it, in different faces, as in Raphael's cartoon of St. Paul preaching at Athens, it becomes extremely interesting. But, perhaps, the principal reason why you are so much interested there is, because you actually see the preacher, and see the effect of his discourse upon his audience, in all the different degrees, of contemptuous disbelief, fluctuating doubts, knd atiiniated conviction ; whereas in this pic- tare ' of Guido's, the Doctors seem all too doubtful, though in different degrees ; and you do not comprehend any reason why they should be otherwise. I believe Sir Joshua Reynolds has stamped the value upon this picture; for, I am told, that he once offered 3500. I wish Ke had had it, that it might bare remained iti thB kingdom ; but the Empress was determined t 291 ] to have them all, or none. She has even in- sisted upon having" the picture of Sir Robert Walpoie himself, (though painted by a very moderate hand,) as a kind of preface or frontis- piece to the collection ; in which, I think, she judg-es right, and shews more respect to thij memory of that g-reat man, than his descendant, who sells them, as he would do so many bales of cloth, with no other consideration, than that he gets 40,000 or 50,000 for them. There was another Guido, which I admired very much too. A Holy Family, in an octagon shape, at the upper end 6't the gallery ; which is painted in a most delicate, elegant, and graceful manner. There is also a Rembrandt, at the same end of the room, of Abraham's Sacrifice. The subject is very striking. Isaac lies bonnd| as if ready to have his throat cut by his father's hand, and Abraham covers the youth's face with his hand, as if unable to bear the sight of it. It made my blood run cold ; but I never saw such fine expression as there is in Abraham's face* You .see all the agitation of his mind ; and his pale and ghastly countenance gives you full^- to conceive what he n>ust have gone through, be- fore he could work himself up to such a" horrid resolution. The Angel hol(^s his hand, but Abraham looks still sea-red, and as if he could hardly believe that the dreadful sacrifice was V 2 [ 292 1 remitted. The effect of light and shade, toor^ is excessively fine in this piece : I hope you took notice of it. But when I come to speak of effects, it is impossible not to think immediately of that inimitable landscape of Reubens, in the same gallery, of a Cart overturned in a Wood j the moon appearing through the trees on one side ; in another part the glimmering light of the de- parting day ; and the finest rock, with the richest, clearest colouring, up in the middle of the piece. I never saw such a lesson in the art of light and shade, and effects, as this picture is. I studied it again and again, many times, and wished I could have brought off the memory of it, which would have fixed in my mind a fund of instruction and knowledge. The shades are wonderfully clear, and the whole colouring rich and harmonious. Reubens always, I believe, painted upon a white ground, ^nd this, in some places, is scarcely covered j the tints about the rock, especially, are almost transparent. There are other very fine works of Reubens here besides, and though he is not quite my favourite painter in historical subjects, on account of the coarseness of his women, and the vulgarity that he too often gives to his figures, I must allow these have wonderful merit in the effect. Do you remember the ^reat picture in the saloon, of Mary Magdaleu [ 293 ] washing Christ's feet? The Pharisees are fat, vulg-ar-looking fellows; and even Christ himself, and his disciples, want that dignity of character, (noble in simplicity,) which a painter of a true taste, and an elevated imagination, would have endeavoured to have given them. The figure of the Magdalen is extremely dis- gusting. But in point of light and shade, clearness and brilliancy of colour, and judicious disposition of the figures, to form the general effects, nothing can exceed it. This is also a most admirable lesson to form young painters. I wish it were placed in our academy, instead of being in that of the Russian Empress: it is sur- prising what an effect the whiteness of the table-cloth (placed as it is in that picture) has to compose the harmony and force of the whole. Cover the table-cloth, with your hand near your eyes, as you look at the picture, and the effect is gone. Sq it is with the landscape that I spoke of before ; there is a little circumstance in it of a man in a red drapery, that holds up the C4rt, which is placed just in the foreground, and it is wonderful what an effect that little circum- stan(:e has in warming and tuning the whole; and how cold and deficient you will immediately perceive it to be, upon covering this red jacket. Perhaps I am whimsical, and perhaps you will laugh at me. I should like, however, to know [ 294 } what remarks you made upon these two pieces. That of the Mag-dalene is valued at 1600 ; and so is its companion, the Virgin with the child in her lap, and a number of boy angels, like little cupids, dancing before them. This, if you remem- ber, is very much in Reubens' manner, though it is done by Vandyke. The boys are lovely, perfect nature, and more delicate nature than; Reubens generally chooses. The principal angel,- who addresses himself to the infant Christ, is a charming little animated figure ; his little arms are extended, and you could imagine him singing, " Glory be to God on high," &ci The Virgin is the worst part of the picture; her countenance is heavy and disagreeable : thd printed catalogue says, by way of apology, that it seems to have been a portrait. Before I leave the pictures in the saloon,' | must take notice of St. Francis, with the Infant Jesus in his arms. There is grace, delicacy, taste, and expression ; every thing that can make a picture perfect. The head of the Saint lis much like the head of one of the doctors of the churchj in the great picture; and the child, I think, is like that in the Holy Family (octagon shape) that I mentioned before. I am told the design is taken from a statue of a Silenus, with a young Bacchus in his arms, that is at Rome, [ 295 ] Wherever the idea comes froai, it is charmingly executed, i I don't know who the pictures were yalueS'/r Henry Herbert. Sir, In great haste, be pleased to accept, with my affectionate service, the enclosed. To it I have nothing of certainty to adde. The affairs on the other side the sea are not this week very productive. Onely the Spaniards received another blow, attempting to raise the siege from before Turin. The French are settling things about Arras ; and the Cardinal Infant, with his army, lyes hovering still not far from thence. Your cosen Mr. Tho. Herbert and his wife are both returned in health last night. Hee is now with me, presents you his service, and de- sires pardon for not writing this day. I rest your servant, H. SCUDAMORE. London, Aug, 29, 1640. 'Tis said the Scots with a great army are in Northumberland. I have your's of 21st current. For my noble friend; Sir Henry Herbert, knt. [ 28 ] LETTER Xf. From Mary Herbert* to the same, Honor'd Unkle, I hereing' of your ser- vant's returning to you was desirous to present you and my honoured ante my most luunbleservis by these lines ; and also I most humbly thank you for the great love you were pleased to shue my deare husband, when he was with you. I heard lately frome him. He is now at Oxford, not very well with a pane he hath in his right arme and foot : he sends me word he feres it is the gout, but I rather thinke it is some extraordinary could. 1 pray GoD, of his infinite mercy, bles him, and bles the menes that shall be used to him for his health. I am confedant he shall have your prayers. My deare husband was pleased to writ to mee, and sende mee a great deal of newes, which I beleve you hear of; but I pray you give me leve to troubele you with thus much only, which is this, my Lord of NewcastleJ * This letter, and some others which follow in the series, from women of family, breeding, and fashion, in their time, afford striking proofs of the neglect of female education among our an- cestors. A few splendid examples, indeed, occurin the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, of women, whose minds had been cultivated to a high degree : and whose attainments would be thought extraordinarj', even in the present day ; but the general eharacterof the sex seems to have been that oi docile domestic mnimals, whose duties wore exclusively confined to providing for the comforts of their lords, and managing the concerns of their familie? ; and to whom the Whole class of intellectiuzl plcasurex were utterly unknown. William Caveadish, Marquis of Newcastle. Upon the eniptioa of the civil war, be raised a very considerable army in [ 20 ] hath imprisoned my Lord of Newport,* and m/ Lord Savell, and the SherifTe of Yorkshire, for a most miserable plot, wliich they had upon the Queene and his Lordship's army, to deliver the Queene, who is dayly expected, into the powre of the Parliament, and to betray his Lordship's army to the Parliament. Thes are mesarabel plots. The Lord give all these ploters their disarts, and setile this kingdom in pease agane, if it be his blessed will. So, fereing I have biu to troubelsom with thes lines, I shall only desiere you to present my serves to my ante, aud my kind love to all my cossons, with my serves to yourself. I will ever rest, your most respectful! nece to love and serve you, MARY HERBERT 3foura, 2'3d Jan. 1642. the northern counties, with which he was successful against the Parliament forces, and defeated Fcrdinando Lord Fairfax, at Adderton Moor; but his subsequent conduct seems to have greatly contributed to the ruin of the King's affairs. After the defeat at Marston Moor, he went beyond sea, and was, during the interregnum, chiefly at Antwerp, where he amused himself in writing books. (Granger.) For the character of liis Lordship as an author, see Walpole's Royal and Noble Authors, vol. i.p. 12. For the supposed plot, see Smollett, vol. vii. p. 206. * Mountjoy Blount, Earl of Newport, a natural son of Charles Blount, esq; and Penelope, daughter of Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex, and wife of Robert Lord Rich. He was created Baron of Thurlton, by James 1st; and Earl of Newport, by Chaxles. He was Master of the Ordnance, and one of the council of war in the royal army. He died 1665. (Gfrangcr.) On his apprehension, he was dismissed from his office of Constable of th* Tower. (Smollett, vii. 206.) [ 30 ]; All the children are very well, I prays God : and they all presents you and my ante ther hunibell serveses, and their loves to their cossons. To my much honoured unkell, Sir H. Herbert, this present. LETTER XII. From Edward Lord Herbert* to the same. Sir Henry, The business I intended by you I have dispatched another way. I am think- ingeof a journey to the Spaw; but I doubt how I shal be able to go, my body beinge more infirme then to endure any labour. And let me assure you, I fiude myselfe grown older in this one yeare than in fifty-nine yeares before ; which, as it is true, I should bee glad were knowne among the best of those to whom you go. I shall pray for a good and speedy end to all those troubles ; and in particular that God would guide those who are now met. And here I must remember that of all of us, there remains now but you and I to brother it. I pray you remember my kind love to your lady and all yours. So I rest, your faithfull loving brother, HERBERT. Moss ley C, I4th June, 1 643. To the right worthy Sir Henry Herbert, knight, ^t his honst near Bewdley, Ribstord, SS. * Sir Henry Herbert's eldest brother; the celebrated Lord Herbert of Cherbuiy. I 31 ] LETTER XIIT. From the same to the same. Sir Henry, For the good offices you ever done mee, I tlianke you. But why therupon you should fall upon your old wbettinge, I marvaile. I had rather, for my part, forget all unkinde passages, then remember them, so as to send you a forgiveness for them. If Richard Witingham sent you word (as he told mee) of the condi- tion of the two parks, you would take nothing unkindly, especially when I wished him to tell you, that if you sent n guelding thither, he should bee welcome. But here also you may remem- ber the old answer. If you will not take it unkindly that I denyed you a curtesay, I will jnot take it unkindly that you asked it. Good brother, use no more close repetitions : and novir I growe old and infirme, do not afflictions and discomforts to your faithful lovinge brother, June 24, 1643. E. HERBERT. To the right worthy Sir H. Herbert, at Oxford. LETTER XIV. From the same to the same, Sir Henry, Though the messenger brought no letter from you to myselfe,yet because hee tould mee you were well, the welcome news thereof in these troubelsome limes invites me to congratulate it with you. If it had pleased R. Whittingham to have tould you that I had stone [ 32 ] horses in my lower parke, and no grasse in my upper parke, (as he toiild mee ^hee would,) ther had been no occasion for you to demand that, 1 could not conveniently do; but if you send a guelding or two until! Micbelmas, they shal bee received. Wee are here almost in as great straits as if the warrewereamonofst us^ Shrews- bury, which is our ordinary magazine, being exhausted of wine, vinegar, hops, paper; and pepper at four shillings the pound ; and, shortly^ a want of all commodities that are not native with us, will follow, the intercourse betweene us and London being interdicted. My dear and only brother, I wish you all health and happiness, and so rest, though much broken in my healthy your faithful! loving brother, E. HERBERT. My kind remembrance to your lady and children. 25//^ Aug. 1643. LETTER XV. From Prjnce Rupert,* " To all Comanders, Officers, Souldiers whatsoever; of, or any way belonging to, his Ma'tie's Army, Forces, and Garrisons^ and to all others whom it may concirne. By the authority and power given unto mee from his Highnes Prince Charles, Prince of Great Britaine, and ratified by our * Prince Rupert, the third son of the unfortunate Elizabeth, daughter of James I. and wife to the Elector Palatine, cams over from Holland to the assistance of King Charies I. his uncle, about the time of his erecting the royal standard at N ottingham. [ 39 ] Sovereig-ne Lord King Charles, as captaine Generall under his Ilighnes, of all the forces of horse and foote, &c. I doe hereby strictly charge and comand you, and every of you whom it shall or may concerne, hnediately after the sight or knowledge hereof (all pretences and excuses soever sett aside) to doe noe maner of violence, injury, harme, or detriment, by un- lawfull plunderinge, to Sir Henry Herbert, knt. of Ribsford, in the county of Worcester, in his person, family, houses, goods, tenants, woods. He possessed, in a high degree, that kind of courage which is better to attack than defend; and is less adapted to the land service, than that of the sea, where precipitate valour is in its element. He seldom engaged, but he gained the advantage, which he generally lost by pursuing too far. On one occasion, however, he tarnished his fame, and disappointed general expec- tation ; for he surrendered the city of Bristol to Sir Thomas Fairfax, almost as soon as he appeared before it; upon which, in the first transport of his anger, the King deprived him of all his commissions ; and ordered him to quit the kingdom. Charles, however, relented; and though afterwards personally affronted by Rupert, his niildness still triumphed over his indignation, and the Prince was pardoned, and taken into favour. ( Smollett, vii. 310,^ This Prince, who, according to Camden, received the name of Rupert, in memory of Rupert the first emperor of the Palatines, made a conspicuous figure in the reign of his cousin, Charles II. ; and particularly distinguished himself in that memorable engage- ment in the second Dutch war, in which the brave Earl of Ossory commanded under him. Equally celeibrated for his knowledge of, and attachment to, the arts, we are in possession of several useful inventions which are attributed to him; such as, the art of mezzotinto engraving; the glass drops known by his name; and the metal called Prince Rupert's metal: he also discovered a metliod of boring guns, but the secret died with the illustrious inventor. After an active and useful life, he expired at his house in Spring-Gardens, 29th Nov. 1681. Granger, vol.i. p, 21, I> I 34 ] catties, 01' chattels whatsoever, by yourselves or others, as you will answeare the contrary at your utmost perills. Given at Hereford, under my hand and scale, at Armes, tliis 2d day of January, 1644. RUPERT. LETTER XVI. From Lord Astley* " To the Bailiff and capital Burgesses of Beudley, and to all the Toivnsmen and Inha' bitants of the said Borough) and to every of them." Jacob Lorde Astly, Baron of Reddinge, lieutenant-generall of his Ma't's forces in the counties of Worcester, Salop, Hereibrde, and Stafforde, and lieutenant-generall of his Ma- jestie*s forces. Whereas severall warrants have issued from Sir Guilbert Gerrarde, knight, and Prince Maurice, requiringe you, and every of you, to forbeare the further assessinge of Sir Henry Herbert, knight, for the woods he holds of hi* Majestic, in tlie forrest of Wyer, these are therefore to require and commande you, and * Sir Jacob Astley, created Lord Astley, Baron of Reading, field-marshall and sergeant-major general of his Majesty's army ; lieutenant-general of the forces of Worcester, Gloucester, Hereford, and South-Wales. He was among the first that entered into the service of the unfortunate Charles, and his last hope in the decline of his affairs; but was totally defeated, with the remnant of the royal army, near Stow-in-the-Wold, in Glou- eestershire, the 21st March, 1645-6. He died October J, 1664- f 35 ] every of you, to forbeare the taxinge of the said Sir Henry Herbert for the saide woods, in re- spect of the contribution monyes, or any other assessments whatsoever ; it being" unjust to charge the said woods with payments, which have yielded noe manner of profits for three years past^ and to distribute the severall and distinct rates, layed by your former assessments, upon Sir Henry Herbert, for the saide woods, amongste the inliabitants of the saide borough, in a just and equall manner. Wherein you, tior any of you, are to fail, at your utmost perills. Given under my hande this third of Jan. 1645. JACOB ASTLEY* LETTER XVII. Prom Prince Maurice* " To the Bailiffe and capital Burgesses of Bewdleye, and to all the Townsmen and Inhabitants of the sayd borough, and to every of them J^ Whereas you have unjustly and wilfully continued in the wrong assessing of his Ma' ties woods in the forest of Wyer, holden by Sir Henrye Herbert, knight i and have dis- * Prince Maurice, third (Surviving son of Elizabeth and the iEIector Palatine, entered into the service of Charles I. about the same time with his brother Rupert. He seems to have had less ardour, but more prudence, than his brotlier: and knew, far better than him, how to pursue an advantage which he had gained. He laid siege to several places in the west of England, and took Exeter and Dartmouth ; but his most signal success WftS at LanS' down, in the neighbourhood of Bath. Granger, D 2 [ 36 ] obeyed my warrant of the 28th of Jaanary^ 1664; and whereas Richard Walker, of Bewd-- leye, by false informations, obteyned my warrant requirein^ the said Sir Henrye Herbert to paye the assessments laid upon the said woods for contribution moneys. These are therefore to revoke the saide war- rant granted to Richard Walker, or to any other or others, for the purpose aforesaide. And to require you, and everye of you, whose names are above-written, to forbeare the further assessing of the said Sir Henry Herbert, for the said woods, in respect of the contribution monyesj or any other whatsoever: it being unjust to charge the sayd woods with payments, which have yielded noe manner of profitts for these three yeares past: And to distribute the severall and distiucte rates Jayd by your former assessments, upon Sir Henry Herbert, for the sayd woods, amongst the inha- bitants of the sayd borough in a just and equall manner ; , and likewise to observe punctually the contents of my former warrant in this be- balfe. Fayle not at your uttermost perill. Given at Worcester, the seventeenth day of September, 1645. MAURICE. [ 37 ] LETTER XVIIl. From General Fairfax* to Captaine Edmund Halt., Sir, The Houses of Piirliament having putt under my command all the land forces of this king'dome, whereof yonre troope is a part ; that I might give a certayne accompt thereof to them, 1 have thought fitt to appoynt Captaine John Gorges, a man of knowne fidelity, to bee commander thereof, desiring you to resigne the saide troope, with all the horses and amies be- longing thereunto, u;ito him. And, forasmuch as the armyesproceedinges have been misrepre- sented to the souldiers thereof, I desire you would sumon all officers and souldiers belong- inge to the troope ; and in my name lett them knowe, that I shall be equally careful for them with the rest of the souldiery in the kingdome ; and in confidence of your and theire obedience to my comands, I shall bee ready to do any thing which may tend to their encouragement. * Sir Thomas Fairfax, knight, General of the forces raised by the Parliament, afterwards Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, &c. He was formed a soldier under Horatio Lord Vere, in the . Netherlands, and present at tlie taking of Bois le Due from the Spaniards, He came behind no character of his time for up- rightness, sincerity, and military talents ; but wa^ no match for Cromwell in art and subtlety, who first duped, and then made him hiatool. Sir Horace Vere, his master in the ar{ of war, was remark- able for doing great things with few men; and Fairfax, for equal exploits with the loss of but few. He had a considerable share in the restoration of Charles n. 6rro-(?r, [ 38 ] And further, to prevent mistakes, I have sent this gentleman, Captaine Vernon, to declare unto them the ground of the arraye's proceed- ings ; bye promotinge whereof, you will dis- charge your duty towards the settling of the peace of this king-dome, and cause to subscribe myselfe your assured friend, T. FAIRFAX. From my Head-qumters at Putney, 4th Sept. 1647. LETTER XIX. From Gen. Fairfax to Captaine Edm. Hall. Being informed, that, notwithstanding my late order to confirme my comission given to Capt. Gorge, for the comande of that troope formerlie under you, yet you have forcibly and violently taken away divers men and horses, and have refused to returne them againe, notwith- standing my orders shewed unto you ; you are, on sighte hereof, imediately to deliver uppe such horses and amies as you soe tooke from Capt. Gorge, being those that went off with him, uppon his receipt of my comission; and that likewise, some men you compelled to goe with you like- wise, bee returned back. Wherein you are not to fayle, as you will answer the contempt. Given under my hand and scale at Windsor, the 17th day of September, 1647, , T. FAIRFAX. [ 39 1 LETTER XX. From Gen. Fairfax " To'lhe Hon, Robret ScAWEN, Esq; in the Chair, for the Honourable the Lords and Comons, on the Committeefor the Army there,^* Sir, I am informed by the inhabitants' of Bridgewater, that they doe suffer exceedingly by a disproportion of assessments for the army; they being charged to board a third part of the assess- ments of that hundred where it lieth, though itt be not able to beare the sixteenth parte. Itt was formerly a ritch towne, and of greate trad- ing; but by the late warres, halfe of the towne hath been burnt down, and the people soe im- poverished, and trade decayed, that 1 cannoc but recommend the condition of that place unto you; to the end, some course may be taken, that that place may bear in assessments according to that just and equall portion it is now able to beare, which I leave to your consideration, and remains your very assured friend, SL Albans, Nov. 16, 1648. T. FAIRFAX. LETTER XXL From J. Selden* to the Hon. Sir Henry Herbert, Knight, Noble Sir, TnisGentteman, Mr. Williams^ comes from Dr. Chaunsell, head of Jesus col- John Selden, sometimes styled " the great dictator of learn. *ing of the English nation/' and pronounced by Grotius, his I 40 ] lege in Oxford, about the legacy of books made to them by my Lord of Cherbury. I presume he will take just care of the safe delivering- of them, if he shall receive them from your hand, which I desire he may, tog-ether with the cata- logue, to take a copy of it, and return it again. Sir, I ever am, your most affectionate and hum- ble servant, J. SELDEN. Nov. 1, 1648. White Friars. LETTER XXII. From Edward HERBERxf to the same. IJoNORED Unkle, I have had three or four letters from my Uncle Edward about the odde antagonist, to be the glory of it, was a man of extenive and pro- found knowledge as any of his age. He was thoroughly skilled in every thing that related to his own profession ; but the general bent of his studies was to sacred and profane literature. The greater part of his works are on uncommon subjects. Like a m^n of genius, he was not content with walking in the beaten track of learning, but was fbr striking out new paths, and en- larging the territories of science. His " Divine Right of Tithes" gained him more enemies than any ofhis works ; and his " Mare Liberurn," iu which he had the advantage of Grotius, did him the most honour. Towards the close of life, he saw the emptiness of human learning; and owned, that, out of the numberless volumes he had read and digested, nothing stuck so close to his heart, or gave him >!uch satisfaction, as a single passage out of St. Paul's Epistles, Titus ii. 11, 12, 13,14. He died 30th Nov. 16a4. Granger. See also a neat piece of biography, Sclden's atid Usher's Lives, by Aikin. t rjranddon of Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury. lie was lineally descended from Sir Richard Herbert, of Colebrook, I 41 ] sheetes that are to make tlie bookes de Veritate com plea te, which (since they bee in your hoase) I desire you to deliver them, or at lest lett my cosen Herbert, that I may receive some profitt from them; since I have not (as yett) had any from any thing' that my grandfather hath left, but dayly expect the receipt of 3 or 400 from Montgomery. 1 have sent you a Lampreede pye by the bearer, and I desire you to accept itt 115 alsoe the well-wishes of your most obedient nephew and servant, E. HERBERT. St. Julian's^ Bee. l^th, 1648. " that incomparable hero/' (as Lord Herbert remarks in his life,) " who twice passed through a great army of Northern men " alone, with his pole-axe in his hand, and returned without any ' mortal hurt.'' P. 7. The descent of Edward Herbert, from this puissant warrior, is as follows: Sir Richard Herbert, of Colebrook; Sir Rich. Herbert, knight, his 2d son ; Edward Herbert, of Montgomery, esq ; Richard Herbert, esq; Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury, and Castle Island in Ireland ; Richard Lord Herbert, and Edward Lord Ilerbert. (MS. pedigree.) The title was extinguished in him A. D. 1691; and revived in 1694, in the person of Henry Herbert, esq; of Ribesford, Worcestershire, the second son, and third child, (by his first wife,) of Sir Henry Herbert, knight, and master of the revels. The above letter was written before Edward Herbert came to the title ; and some following ones after he had succeeded to it. " Chi!-)iri hundred was annexed to Montgomerie as a help to " have men out of it for defence." It is called in Domesday Wihantre^ from Gttire, an angle, and tre, a town, from its situation in a flat among the mountains. Edward III. granted it to Roger Mor- timer, as annexed to Montgomery Castle. Edward IV. granted it to the Prince of Wales ; and Edward VI. to Sir Edward Her- bert; and Charles the First gave Sir Edward Herbert leave to alienate it. Gough's Camden, vol. Hi. p. 12. ,r 42 ] My sisters remember their services to you, and 1 desire that theyres and mine may be pre- sented (allsoe) to your lady. To my deare untie Sir Henry Herbert, knight, ait his lodgings in Coven Garden. LETTER XXIII. From Lady Vere Every* to the same. Honored Sir, I should be very unwilling to bringe any pregudie upon you, tho' it would be a very greate satisfaction to me for many rea- sones, which I shall make you acquainted when I see you. When I wrote to you at furst, my Lady Every was very desirous you should be maid acquainted with it, an say'd you told hir you would do any thing to improve Sir Harry's estatte ; and if you would, you might gurde it in your one name, and injoy the wrents tel he came at aige. Thay tliinke you will not doe it ; for she, it seames, thinks you to be very neare. Jeames has say'd as much. Thay doe not love you nor me neather, but from the teeath out- wards. Thay think you have perswaided Sir Harry not to prove the will ; and when thay have any discourse, she says Sir Harry Herbert is his councel. If you will purchase this land, which is 81. a yeare, at twenty yeares purchase, you will put a visiable courtisi upon Sir Harry * Eldest daughter, and second child, by his first wife, of Sir Henry Herbert. She married Sir Henry Vere, of Eggiugton. MS, Pedigree. [ 43 ] Every, which I am sure you have not been behind hand in; but I beleve thay doe not thinke soe, for my Lady says, you neaver did hir any realy frsndshep in your life. My Lady has a a mind to aave this land, and does solicit Mr. Waltors under hand to have it ; but he would not let her have it tel Sir Harry refuses it, and he promises that he shall have it 5 pound cheaper than another. She makes ^11 the provision as she cane for hir yonger children. We shall not be the better for her by a gvote ; we must not stay heare any longer then our Lady-day. If you will give us leve, we will be with you a mounth or tow; and then we shall not know how to dispose of ourselves, without you will be pleased to live at Ribsfor, for Sir Harry Eevry . cannot live out of the countrey. I could wish that we had our share of the goods which are heare. Jeames and my Lady is very great: thay cannot abide we should have any muny; there was wrents braut the other day, and be- cause she did not receave all, she was so doged, that she would not come doune in two or three days, and did scarce alow us meat. I doe truble you with these things, that you may be ac- quainted with hir youmours. I thanke God I content myselfe with any thing-, and never take noates of them. I am very happy, thanke God, in Sir Harry Every; he is a very great lover and honourer of you, which dos incourage me to love him more. Pray, Sir, my duty to my [ 44 ] mutlier; and pardon the truble I have put you to from hir that is your dutyful daughter, V. E. For my honoured Father, Sir Henry Herbert. LETTER XXIV. From Sir Harry Every to the same. Sir, AccoRDiNGE to your directions, I have previously, by Mr. Alestree, tryed all M'ayes with Forde aboute the tythe, but he is soe perremtory and unreasonable, that there is nothing" to be donne with him. A hun- dred pounds will not satisile him and Bould; theire solicittor Harrison is now g'oing- to Lon- don, who sayes hee goes one his owne businesse, and onely carries Foorde a letter. It has been onely youre care which has prevented his kna- very hytherto, and is only your favoure which preserves. Sir, your obedient son, Jan. 27. 1648. HENRY EVERY. Sir, my desier is, that you would com doune as sone as you cane, for we wold faine be gon from this place. My Lady dos leade us a very uncomfortable life, and wolde faine be wrid of us ; and sayse I am she that dose perswade Sir Henry to all that is not agreabell to hir you- mours. V. For my honored Father, Sir Henry Herbert, at his hous* in JeameS'S(j[uarc, in Coven Garden. Pay post (5d. f 45 ] LETTER XXV. From Lady V. Every to the same. Honored Sir, It is my Lady's desier to ac- quaint you, that there is'profered Sir Harry Every a parcle of ground by Ceaster- wrent of five pounds a yeare, which is ajoining to his, and hee has a mind to sell it. Pray, Sir, give your opinion in it. The tailor and the sadler is un- pay'd, against our wilsj and we doe entend to stay tell our Lady-day, that we may bring np money. My Lady has receaved the wrents, and lias made so much worke, that we have re- ceaved little or nothing. I am afeard when she comes to an account, that there will be a breach. She does desire that you may be the judge be- twene them, Sir, for the muney that you have pay'd for me. I humbly thank you ; I shall indeavour to be more obedient, which is all I can returne for your love and care of me, and for my failings. I beseech you. Sir, impute them, not to my willfullness, but to my ignorance; for nothing in this world can be a greater truble to me than your disfavour. I had an entent to write to my cosenes V. I am not very well. I am trubled much with the cholick ; therefore 1 will crave your pardon, and desier you will give me leave to subscribe myselfe your dutyfuU daughter, Dec 23. VERB EVERY, I 46 ] Si I* Hary present his duty to yon. I have write to Mr. Soly, with, the confidence, that by your favour I shall obtaine my desier. For my honored father. Sir Henry Herbert, in Jeames-square. LETTER XXVr. From Sir H. Herbert to Lady V. Every. Verb, To boast your obedience, and to owne your Chancery Bill, are contradictions, which become not your piety and my innocency. As to my expressions, they are like the wounds of a faithfull friend, though you have converted them into the gaule of bitterness, and are more de- lighted with the kisses of an enemy. The reports are false; 'tis of your making*, and cannot bee true when they are used to wounde my good name; for great is truth, and will prevaile in spight of the malice conceived against Yours, H.HERBERT. ' You had advise of my maradge, as the person most concerned in relation : and because the newes was acceptable to you, the safe delivery of a paire of daughters will encrease the joye, that my grasious God is pleased to double his blessings, whilst you deale injuries. 3a Jan, 1651 [ 47 ] LETTER XXVII. From E. Herbert,* Esq; to Sir H. Herbert, Mount g ornery, 26tk Jan. 1653. Most Honor'd Unkle, You may think it very strange, that, after receiving soe many letteis from yon, I never had the civility to re- turn you a thankful! acknowledgment for your care of mee and my businesses but give mee leave to tell you, your kindnesses to me were mixt with soe many reproachful! threaten ings of my Lord, (I conceive not justly grounded,) tliat I thought, since there was a necessity of displeasing my Lord (if 1 shou'd approve of them), or you, in my silence, I chose the latter, because natural! affection binds me to it; whicli you cannot dislike, when you consider it aright, and would expect the like from your owne sonne; My cosen William Browne is desired to re- ceive the Monmouthshire writings againe from, you, and by your favour and direction to move againe in that businesse. Soe witli my wife's and my services to yourself and lady, I rest your most affectionate nephew and servant, E. HERBERT. My blessings to my dear niece and goddaughter. For my most honor'd uncle, Sir Henry Herbert, knight, attliis house in Jeames-street, Coven-Garden. * Grandson of Edward, first Lord of Cherbury, and son t)f Richard, second Lord of Cherbury; ajid succeeded his father Richard in the title and estate. [ 48 J LETTER xxvnr. From the smne* to the same. My Hon' Unkle, NoTHtNG afflicts me soe much, in the midst of all my trubles, iis to loose your favor, whom I esteem my sacred anchor. Necessitie compel'd me to send a special! cursitor away to serve my Lord and his Lady mother. This was to be done in that in- stant of time when I should have attended you; yet in that pressure of businesse, I made it my first worke by letter to excuse my non attend- ance. I leave it now to your owne breast to judg;e of my course. For youre five pound, I cannot with convenience return it yett; be pleased therefore to send Mr. Cox over with a bond, and it shall be sign'd, and confirm'd ac- cording to your pleasure. For the will you mention, it is made. I made one, but not with- out remembrance of what you desirede from niee. Books for my deare and sweet relation cosen Harrie. Somethings else was bequeathed, if my memorie faile me not. The rest 1 left to chai'itable pious uses, 'and, among the rest, for a tomb-stone for ray father, though paide for by himselfe, yet never sett on him by his executors, administrators, or their trustees. And now I have told you this, give me leave to tell you my design was to have altered my will, and made it runn with a full currant towards you and yours ; * After he bad succeeded to the titit;. [ 40 ] hut Ijiiul you under valerve my rigid and interest , slight and neglect me in my greatest pressures ; it seeminge, therefore^ not worth your acceptation, I shall never thinke it worth my proffer. Indeed, Hon. Unkle, gratitude is the greatest point of honour my soul courts; which I will endeavour yet further to improve, by forgettinge asper- sions, and remembering courtisies onlie. Thus, I design to christen my memorie everie morning, that I may rise fresh to acknowledge myselfe to all I am engaged too, and to yourselfe in the first place. Youre poore indebted, but affec- tionate, nephew and servant, Feb. 6th, 1656. HERBERT. My humble service to my good and vertuous aunt, and all my sweet cosens. To the Right Hon. Sir Henry Herbert, his most honored UACle, at his house in Chelsea, present, these. LETTER XXIX. From the same to the same, HoNNORED Unkle, I received yours of December the 1st, and the 17th, of old Samuel; and with it a remarkable assurance of your unde- served affection towards your poore nephew. A perpetuall acknowledgement of this great favor is all I can express my gratitude in. Your expressions concerning Mr. Pulford are noe more than I resented before. As for my Lady and [ 60 ] my Lord Vernon, I finde the breaches between them increase daily, with small hope of uniting- the festring parts, which how growne soe fowle, may bee guest at easilie. My best endeavours and praiers shall not be wanting, though foment- ing jealousies make such attempts hopeless as yet. Sir, I present my humble service to yourselfe, with my honnored good aunt ; and I desire your leave to present her with this small Welsh token, or new-year's gift, which you shall re- ceive by Ned Davies, Collier's heir, and suc- ceeding carrier. The carriage is paid for. My best love and respect to my hopeful cosin Harrie and the rest of your deare pledges. Both in my life and death, I shall not be wanting in my real affections towards him, and all yours. Be pleased to believe this from your most oblidged, affectionate, dutifull nephew, Chirburie, Dec. 19, 1655. HERBERT. For the Right Honorable Sir Henrie Herbert, at his house in James-itret, in Covent Garden. LETTR XXX. From the same to the same, Honnored Unkle, I have sent you my release, and referre it to your owne time for the presentment of it, my sole confidence relyinge thereupon. When I shall bee suraonde to ap- peare personally, I make noe doubt, with your assistance, to cleare myselfe. For Sir Orlandoe [ 51 1 Bridgeman's and Mr. Person's judgements in my other cause, I have them safe, and hope to deliver them to you myself next weeke. For the bearer, tho' I keepe him poore, I dare trust him in a greater occasion then this; but if you have any prejudicial! opinion of him (which noe question hath some grounds), I desire to knowr it, that 1 may correct my easie beliefe. Sir, with my praiers for the confirmation of your health, I rest your obliged, affectionate nephew and servant, HERBERT. My humble service to my good aunt, your vertuous lady, and all my sweet cosens; and pray, good unkle, use the caudle. Dec, Slh, 1656. To the Right Hon. Sir Henrie Herbert, my houored ankle, present these, at Chelsea. LETTER XXXr. From Oliver Cromwell* to Serjeant Wylde, ^c. Gentlemen, We doubt not but you have heard before this time of the hand of God going along with us, in defeating the late rebellious The character of Oliver Cromwell has always been con- sidered as a kind of moral (tnigma, from the strange display of contrasts which it exhibited ; enthusiasm, and cunning ; am- bition, hypocrisy, and fanaticism. But the fact seems to be, that e^ich of these principles was, for the time, the ruling one, and absorbed the man. Enthusiasm was the quality which first set Itis mighty mind in motion; as he advanc^id in his career, and t 52 ] insurrection. And we hope, that, through his blessing upon our labours, an effectual course will be taken, for the totall disappointment of the whole designe. Yet knowinge the reso- lution of the common enemy to involve this nation in new calamitys, we conceive ourselves, and all others entrusted with preserving the peace of the nation, obliged to endeavour in their places to prevent and defeat the enemies' intentions ; and therefore as a measure specially conducing to that end, we doe earnestly recommend to you to take order that dilligent watches (such as the law hath appointed) bee daily kept for taking a strict account of all strangers in the county; which will not only be a meanes to suppress all loose and idle persons, but may probably cause some of those who come from abroad to kindle fires here, to be apprehended and seized upon, especially if care be taken to secure all them when wider prospects unfolded to him, ambition was influenced, and became the ruling motive of action; to whose aid subtlety and hypocrisy were called in, as necessary to the accomplishment of its designs. When mmiition had had its fill, and the close of lifo evinced the vanity of its pursuits, then the original principle of fanaticism was again resorted to, as the only refuge from those horrors, which such a lif as that of Oliver Cromwell's would continually awaken in the mind, on the approach of death. When he told the officer, that he and his party were "seeking the *' Lord," at the time when they were hunting for " the cork- ** screw," there can be no doubt, that he played the part of the hypocrite: and when, in answer to his chaplain Goodwin, who told him, that " the elect could never fall into reprobation," he answered, " then I am safe, for I am sure I was once in a state * of grace," there is sufficient evidence that he was m th vw/ gulph of FANATICISM. [ S3 ] that cannot give a good account of their busi- nesse ; and may alsoe brake all dangerous meet- ^ ings and assemblys together. Herein we doe I require, and shal expect your effectual endea- * vours J knowing, that if what by law ought to be done were done with diligence in this respect, the contrivance of such dangerous designs as these would be frustrated in their bud, or kept from growing to a maturity. I rest your affec- tionate friend, OLIVER, P. Whitehall, 15th March^ 1654. For John Wilde, serjeant-at-law, and the rest of the Justice* of Peace for the county of Worcester, or any of them, tQ be communicated to the rest ; or in his absence, to Ni< eholas Lechmere, esq; Worcester. LETTER XXXII. From General Monk* to Lord BROGHiLL.t Wliilehall, 1th February j 1659, My Lord, Your epistle of the 30th of January from Cork came to me yesterday , The late Lord Orford regarded the character of Monk in rather an illustrious light. " This memorable man," says he, " who " raised himself by his personal merits within reach of a " crewn, which he had the prudence, or the virtue, to wave ; whostt ** being able to place it on the head of the heir is imputed to as-i " tonishing art or secrecy, when in reality he only furnished a " hand to the heart of a nation ; and who, after the greatest ser* *' vices that a subject could perform, either wanted the sense, or " had the sense, to distinguish himself no farther, (for, perh,ap3, he '' wa f ittgularly fortunate in always embracing the moment vf I 54 ] and I assure your Lordship I shall improve all the interest I have, to give the Parliament a just impression of your services , which I must ac- knowledg-e have been alwaies very eminent, but more especially in the late transactions in Ire- land, and particularly in the care your Lordship has taken of that important province of Munster, where you now are. I doubt not but your Lordship has had, by this time, my letter, wherein I gave your Lordship an accompt of my ap proaching towards this place, and some other particulars, in order to your Lordship's desires to me ; and alsoe the names of the commissioners that are appointed by the Parliament for the civill government of Ireland, who (I think) are for the greatest part of them very sober, honest men. And I am very glad yoi^r Lordship is soe "propriety:) this man was an author, &c." Catalog\i of Royal and Noble Authors, vol. ii. p. 1. Mr. Fox, in his " History of the i" Early Part of the Reign of James II." p. 19, has given a totally difierent view of the character of Monk ; but, perhaps, after all, the truth lies between the two. Monk, like the rpst of mankind, was a very mixed character ; rather made by circum- stances what he at diflferent times was, than directing cii"cum- stances to suit his premeditated purposes. j- Lord Broghill had been appointed, by Cromwell, president of the council for the adminfstration of affairs in Scotland, and afterwards made president of Munster in Ireland ; where, as Clarendon tells us, he had very great interest and influence. He wished for a safe opportunity to do his Majesty (Charles II.) service ; and, accordingly, on General Monk's marching to Lon- don, he seized upon the persons of such as had been put in au- thority in Munster by Lambert, or the Rump Parliament ; an4 mbmitted to the order of Monk. History oft/ielieltUiov, in. (55. r 55 ] prudently mingled in the manag-ement of the military part ; which I thinke to bee in as good hands as can possibly bee, and I shall endeavour to have them soe continued. 1 have heere with me foure thousand of my owne foote, and fifteene hundred horse, besides a regiment which Co- lonel Morley has in the Towre, and a new re- giment raised at Portsmouth, under Col. Farley ; and they are such as will not dispute the Par- liament's orders, or undertake to interest them- selves in state affairs, (which, your Lordship knows, is a principle of discipline I alwaies ex- ercise, where I have authoritie to do it ;) soe that I thinke the Parliament will not have occa- sione to drawe any of the Irish forces hither : although I cannot but esteeme it as an extraor- dinary effect of your Lordship's care for the pub- lique safety, and for favour to me, that you are pleased to informeme of the assistance that might bee had from those parts, and yourobligine offer to give me the honour of conducting them, I must confess I thinke Sir Harciress Waller has been a little too remiss in the prosequition of matters with you ; but I hope it has been rather in tenderness of mind than otherwise ; and when I was within two or three daies march of Lon- don, I gave him some smart advise concerning his behaviour to the factious fanatique part of the army. I shall bee careful that Col. Wal- lace and Major Deane, who have escaped si* unhandsomely from Irelan^l, bee not received [ 56 ] into any countenance or esteeme heere ; and your Lordship shall be sure, that at least I will not have any thing to doe with them myselfe. I am heartily sorry that I cannot doe that service for your Lordship, which I desire to doe ; but I will never omit any oportunity I can have to promote your Lordship's merits, for I am, with much reality, my Lord, your Lordship's most humble servant, GEORGE MONK. LETTER XXXIII From Lady Herbert* to Sir H. Herbert. April Sist, 59. Honored [Sir, The obligation you have putt upon me in your kind inquiry after your nephew, ray deere lord and master, apeeres to mee clothed with soe great a love and caire of him, that I must ever acknowledg myself your detter for this kindnesses and shall in- devour to make you some requitall, by letting you know that, blessed be God, hee arrived safe in Dublin, from whence hee is gone for Kery to looke after his affaires ; where, as the country aire doe agree with him, and he Daughter of Sir Thomas Middleton, of Chirk Castle, aiit| widow of Edward, third Lord of Cherbury, in whom the title became extinct ; but was afterwards revived in Henry Herbert, esq; son of Sir Henry Herbert, in 1694. r 57 ] have his health, he doth intend to plant, hoping-^ by God's blessing upon his designs and endea- vours, to repair, in some measure, the great breaches of his famely. For which, I doubt not, he shall have your prayers and assistance in helping to some planters, which will very much add to the obligation you have allready put upon your affectionate friend, kinswoman, and servant, ANNE HERBERT, Pray make acceptable to your lady my hum- blest servises. My blessing to my godson, I pray, who by this time I hope is grone a lusty lad. My brother and sister present their ser- vises to you. LETTER XXXIV. From Sir Henry Herbert* to Mr. Aldermar^ HiGNOR. Sir, , s. d. Of White Plate 17151 ounces^ at 4s. 11-id. per ounce - _ _ - 425 6 -Of Guilte Plate, 73^ ounces, at 5s. 4d. per ounce - . - - , 19 12 444 18 This was my plate unjustly seazed and sold to you by the sequestrators sittinge at Camden * This sequestration of Sir^Henry's property had been made, iaconsetjuence of the ordinance ^f the Parliament for sequester- [ 58 ] Hoose, in May 1646, or thereabouts; and if I am not much mistaken, all, or the greatest part of it, bought by you. And you are desired to make rae satisfaction for it, in a conscionable way, bv the rule of doing as you would be done by; and, with St. Paule, exercise alwaies a good conscience towards God and man. If the Church of England may be believed, sins of this nature cannot be pardoned without restitution; yet the matter and manner are wholly submitted to your judgment, with this ing the estates, rents, and reversions of delinquents ; or the ad- herents of the unfortunate Charles the 1st. Sir Henry had been a most faithful servant to his King, and continued to be so to the last; as we learn from the following account in Wood's Athense, Tol. ii. 524. " It may not be forgotten, that Sir Henry Herbert, " master of the revells, and gentleman in ordinary of his Ma- " jesty's privy chamber, (one that cordially loved and honoured " the King, and during the war had suffered considerably in his " estate by sequestration and otherwise,) meeting Mr. Thomas " Herbert, his kinsman, in St. James's Park, first enquired " how his Majesty did, and afterwards presenting his duty to him, " with assurance that himself, with many other of bis Majesty's ^' servants, did frequently pray for him, desired that his Majesty '* would be pleased to read the 2d chapter of Ecclesiasticus, for he " should find comfort in it, amply suiting his present condition. " Accordingly Mr. Herbert acquainted the King therewith, who " thanked Sir Harry, and commended him for his excellent parts, " being a good scholar, soldier, and an accomplished courtier, " and for his many years faithful service, much valued by the " King, who presently turned to that chapter, and read it with " much satisfaction." Among some papers of Sir Henry Herbert now before the Editor is a copy of that very chapter, in the hand- writing of the knight. The relation which Wood gives in the place above referred to, (as communicated to him by Sir Thomas Herbert,) of the last days of Charles the first, is the most minute, affecting;, and interesting of a^y account extant. [ 59 ] confidence, that what you freely tender, shall be accepted ; and in case of refusal!, noe moles- tation shall be given you by your very affection- ate friend, HENRY HERBERT. For Mr. Alderman Hignor, at Hackney. {Endorsed.)- Copy of what was sente Alder- man Hignor, the 20th December, 1660. His nephewe received it, and promised answer. LETTER XXXV. From the Mayor and Recorder of Maidstone^ to , Sir Henry Herbert. Maidstone, ^th Oct. 1660. Honorable Sir, We received youres of the sixth instant by these bearers, and question not your commission, as Master of his Majestie's Re veils, or your licence granted to these per- sons, Jacob Brewer, &c.; northern, so farre as they shall use the same according to lavi^e, to which your license doth prudently and carefully tye them. One particular of which theyre lawful! exercise we conceive to be within the verge of his Majestie's courte, wherever it shall be, in any parte of Englande, where they may be under your eye and care, for the reforminge and regulating any abuses of their * For particulars respecting the history, authority and jurisdic- dlction of the office of Master oftht Revells, see Appendix. C 60 1 license, which might be committed by them. But we doe not finde that you doe, and pre- sume you did not intend to, grant them a licence to wander abroade all England over, at what distance soever from you. And we finde that the wanderinge abroad of such persons is expresslye cautioned by the statut of the 39th of theQueen, in the case of players of interludes and minstrels, (except it be by expresse license under the hande and seale of such Baron, or other noble person, of greater degree, to whome they doe particularly belonge); and however we tnowe no lawe or statut that requires the ma- gistrates of any place to give them any particular leave or license ef theyre owne, by way of addi- tion to any other. And indeed the mischiefe and publicke disorders by the practices of such kinde of persons, in wanderinge abroade from countye to countye, is such, that we cannot thinke it reasonable to give them any further countenance than the lawe provides; which we hope will not be displeasing to you, who, we presume, do take the observance of his Majestie's lawes to the best obedience to his Majestie's authoritye. In which assurance we take leave, and rest. Honourable Sir, you re most humble servants, RICHARD BILLS, Maior, LAMBARDE GODFREY, Recorder. To the Hon. Sir Henry Herbert, knight, Master of his Ma- jestie's pevells, these hujubly present.. [ 61 ] (Endorsed.) From the Maior of Maydstone, and the Recorder, concer. Jacob Brewer, daucer on the ropes. ^ LETTER XXXVI. From Sir H. Herbert to the Mayor of Maidstone* Oct. 9, 60, from the Office of the Revells, Sir, Yours of the 8th comes to my hande the 9th of this monthe, and makes out am acknowledgment and submission to hisMajestie's grante, as Master of his Majestie's Revells, and, to -the powers of lycencinge the persons in. question, and to their exercise of the said powers, so farr as they shall use the same accordinge unto law: but you restraine the exercise thereof to the verge of his Majestie's court, and then restraine the Master of th^ Revells to the said limits, as to his jurisdiction; which is, in some sort, a contradiction; and such an interpretation as was never given before by any learned gen- I tlemen. The license is granted upon the con- ditions of good behaviour to the lawes and ordinances of superiors. But you are not taken to be in a capacity, by virtue of your charter, to suppresse them, they bearinge themselves as they ought to doe. And there is non obstante in the concession, which provides against the penall lawes, which being under the greate scale of England, and corroborated by a constant practice, whereof the memorie of man is not to the [ 62 ] contrarie, I conceive you will not be the sole infringer of his Majestie's grante, and the con- stant practice thereof in all his Majestie's do- minions and liberties in England. And you may be assured by me, that you are the first mayor or other officer, that ever did dispute the authority, or the extent of it; for to confine it to the verge of the Court, is such a sense as was never imposed upon it before, and contrary to the constant practice ; for severall grantes have been made by me, since the happy restoration of our gracious sovereign, to persons in the like quality; and seriously, therefore, admitted into all the counties and lil?erties of England, without any dispute or molestation. You are, therefore, desired to give them leave to exercise their qualities, accordinge to the conditions of their license, the rather that they have S':flfered muche in lyinge still, and are in their waye to the sea syde for transportation : and I have given them order to stay noe longer than they have raysed their necessarye charges. But in case you doe delyghte in opposition and obstinacy to lawfull authority, and yet would be obeyed in yours without dispute ; then you may take this from me, that I shall forthwith sende a message from his Majestie's chamber, to fetche you and Mr. Recorder Godfrey hither, to answer your disobedience to his Majestie's authority derived unto me under the great scale of England, and in exercise of the said powers by me for [ 63 ] almost forty yeares, with exception only to the late times. And if you have endangered your charter by this refracteriness, and doe put charges and displeasures on your corporation and persons, you will remember that you were faierly invited to the contrary, and admonished thereof by your very aftectionate friend, HENRY HERBERT. Respects to Mr. Recorder Godfrey, of whom I have hearde well by my cosen Lambert, and for whom I have a particular kindnes. LETTER XXXVIT. From T. Herbert,* Esq; to Sir H. Herbert. Honor'd Sir, 'Tis now some tyme since the worthy Sir Mathew HerbertJ has left his house and Oakiley Parck to goe up to London. Ifeareit is to hidehimselfe att his brother Lucey^s, and not to follow his occasions ; and to unwinde himselfe out of a labarinth of inconveniencies, which his willfuUness and indiscression hath in- volved him into. The malice of his enemyes Avill find him out in all places ; and the designes of those that love not his name will not fayle, Third son of Richard, the second Lord Herbert of Cherbury. MS. Pedigree. X Sir Matthew Herbert, of Bromfield, bart. son of Francis Herbert; descended from Walter Herbert, of Dolgiog. He married a daughter of Lucy of Chariton, 3!lS. Pedigree, [ 64 ] iinlesse some of his relations forget those in- civilities hee hath heaped upon them lately. I am sure, when you consider the temper of his constitution, you will allowe the hott and the moyst in him are not of a fitt mixture to make a compleate understandinge ; and that the hott is predominant even to frenzy, which, blowne and fomented by the wyndy and frothed brayne of his wife, I feare as dangerous to his estate, in her, and relations designes, as in the enmity of the Baldwynes. You must not wrong the good lady soe much as to thinke shee is capable of carrying on a deigne ; but shee may have some confidante, of better understanding, that may manage her as an instrument. As to Baldwyn's ayme, it is chiefly to force the Knight to make better assurances, according to former agree- ments betwixt them, of an estate purposed to raise money to pay Samson Fox ; but the other ayme att the inheritance of the , whole estate, and soe suffer (if not encourage) him in his wylde proceedings, and estrange him from his friends and relations as much as they can, only to ren- der him and his estate the more feazable to be begged j and rather than fayle, I suppose they will both joyne to effect it, and to make a frendly divident of the estate, to please each other. Sir, give me leave to suspect the worst, and to bee free in my discourse to you ; and I have reason for it, because I have the best oppinion of your judgment and integrity to mee that caane bee; [ 65 ] It will become mee to make inquiry after that which may bee the right of my nephew or niece, my sister Florence being redely to lye downe, and clayme the name of a mother. Sir, bee pleased to bee very inquisitive after him; and if you see any thing like to happen, that yoii would please to prepossess the Lord Chancellor with the state of the business, and the wronge that may light on your inocent and rightfull hey re, if not prevented. I cannot blame Mr. Richard Herbert*, his younger bro: for not being more inquisitive, because, if he should appear bussy, and his brother the knight not beggable, it might exasperate him to doe worse than I hope he yet meanes, and give the other party a just rite of argument and advantage. When you have read this, you may know my meaning; and I desire you will lay out your care for my satisfaction, who will ever acknowledge to bee obliged to you for your most significant kindnesse which you have conferred on, honored Sir, your affectionate nephew and humble ser- vant, T. HERBERT. I pray give my wife's and my services and blessings where due; and pardon mee for making use of another hand to write this letter in. I'le assure you I was in soe ill an hilmour when 1 wrote the originall, that it would be hardly legi- * Richard Herbert, of Dolgiog, esq; married Florens, daughter of Richard Lord Herbert of Cherbury, son of Edward first Inird of Cberbury.'JtfS'. Pedigree, P [ 66 ] ble, nnd I hate to transcribe any thing* ; but this is the tfiie sease I have of all the parties men- tioned; and I judge them by appearance, and not surmise. For my ever honor'd Sir Henry Herbert, knight, at Lynsolo, Westminster, Loudon. LETTER XXXVIir. From Lord IIebbert* lo the same* Kyssyn, the 2dth Jan. !664 5 WorTHY Sir, Now is the time I must trouble you for money in relation to my Irish affaires ; for Mr, Burton has brought it about to my wish, and my Lord of Ormond has, in his kind expressions of me and my brother Harry, allmost cieated a resolution in mee to take em- ploya^ent in Iieland, and to leave my native soile to those that have better hick in it. When his G race returnes, I am resolved to kissc his bauds, God willing:, in his way, and to pre- sent him with a fine Welch harp of about a 100 price, which, tho' inconsiderable as to his favours to me and my brother, yet will sl>ew that I am sensible of them, and that I have a grateful mind. The sum that I desire of you is thirty * Edward, third Lord Herbert of Cherbury, and Baron of Castle Island in Ireland, in whoai the title became extinct; but was revived afterwards in the person of Henry Herbert, esq; sen of Sir Henry Heiberi. Edward died in 1678, and lies buried in \V^estminster Abbey. Castle Island, or the Castle of the Islamt^ f K^ry, now gives the title of Viscount to Lord Gage. [ 67 ] pounds, which I pray may be delivered, with the enclosed letter, to Mr. Thomas Burton, to gratify my Lord Duke's secretary, and the other officers, throujjh whose hands my businesse passes, in order to the procurement of the greate scale in Ireland, where it cannot sticke (had I an enemy), as T have a friend of the Chancelor, Sir Maurice Eustace. My Lord Duke's ex- pression of my brother was this ; having heard that hee was not to continue his place, unless he would appear in Ireland, and desiring his Grace's pleasure in it; Sir (says hee), acquaint Mr. Herbert, I am soe farre from thinking to displace him out of the regiment, that I am studying how I may advance him, and I am angry at this report : and soe went on, giving my brother an excellent caracter, and saying somefliing of mee that pleases mee well. I wish to God my brother were in condition to attend his Grace ; but on the whole matter I am highly encouraged, and how to shew myself God direct mee ; would you afford councell, after I have seen the Duke, I shall bee better able to judge. This businesse of mine must bee strucke np novr the iron ishott; therefore I pray send the money to Mr. Burton, which, God willing, I shall re- pay with speed. Soe with servises and blessings where due, I rest. Sir, your affectionate and obliged nephew and servant, HERBERT. For Sir Henry Herbert, knight, at Lyncoln'f, WeatByyatr, these, London, JF 2 [ 68 ] LETTER XXXIX. From the Bishop o/'HEREFORDf to 6'iVHenrt Herbert. > Croft Castle, May 2, 1665. Sir, I Received a letter lately from you without date, the style whereof truely is some- what harsh -, and threatening-e a complaint if I give you not leave lo remove the cause so much delayed by my chancellor. Farre be it from me to countenance unjust delays, or fear a com- plaint. Next I must tell you, my chancellor had his patent from my predecessor, which I have not power to controwl ; yet, make his in- justice appear, 1 will joyn with you to the utter- most of my small power to have it punished, for I abhprre it in a church officer. You seem, to expect more justice from the civilians ther. t Herbert Croft, D. D. according to Godwin, being seduced, when abroad, bytbearts and blandishments of the Jesuits, be- came a Roman Catholic, and enrolled himself among that order. On his return to England he saw, acknowledged, and forsook his rror ; and was made Dean of Hereford, by Charles I. In the yiear 1644, he was ejected from his deanery : but his temporary loss of dignity was rewarded, at the Restoration, by the see of Hereford; in which he died. May 1691. Godwin de Prasulihus. The letter refers to a cause which had been sometime pending in the Bishop's Court, between Sir Henry Herbert, and John Boras- ton, parson of Bewdley, relative to tithes. Much and long- continued ill-will subsisted between the opposite parties, in eonsequence of this contest. The dispute was at length ter- minated, however, and the rector (as appears by a subsequent rtter) sincerely.deplored the loss of his old opponent. [ 69 J I have appointed my chancellor to wait on yon next weeke ; g"et the justest civilian ther to you^ let him manifest the unjust delay es you com- plain of; and I pray let the result be sent to me, in particular, for what answer can I make to de- kiyes in generall ? can I tell whether the fault be in the matter, or manner, or how else ? I profes I am not able to judge all formes of pro- cedinge ; but I knowe in all courts some formes are necessary, some pretended. To conclude : if you please to come to particulars, and by the judgment of some knoweinge, just person, make the fault appeare, I shall be as forwarde as you to complaine, ('tis all I can do ;) but if this ap- pear not, I pray, Sir, be not so forward to con- demne the innocent, and, Sir, your affectionat kinsman and servant, H. HEREFORD. For Sir Henry Herbert, at Linln-Hou5e, Tuttle-atreetr, Weitminster. LETTER XL. From Lady Elizabeth Herbert* to the same, 21th Augusty 166 Sir, Yours one Friday is racived, and yougoe one to improve Ribsfort; J if trouble and pleassure Second wife to Sir Henry Herbert. X ** Soon after the Conquest, Ribbesford became the habita- " tionof a knightly family, called Ribbesford; which continued " here till the reign of Edward HI. It came afterwards to th* [ '0 1 may be ginVl together, you injoye bontli with the layings out of yonr money. lu lisiry it lise to compleat the contentment lo ons ol" ail onie labours, and extrodinary bountis you intend and bestoe on him; his poetry is well accej)red of by me, and 1 commend his obedience to my call. IVly blessing on him. You have done a very good worke in boardine the larder and entry, the dineing-roome being boarded. I could wish a starecase at that end, then weneade not cary strangers by the buttry hach. The radish is so prejudicious, that 1 thinke in wet "wether hare it is to thike ; if it weare removed to the banke on the outside of_ the wall, by the ** Barons Lisle, and descended to Sir John Dudley, knt. first *' Viscount Lisle, then Earl of Warwick, and lastly Duke of * Northumberland. After the attainder of this mighty peer, Sir *' Robert Acton was lord of Ribbesfoid, and was succeeded in **it by his son, Robert Acton, esq; who, as we ha>e seen in ** a tbrmer letter, alienated it to Sir H. Herbert. His son, *' Ilenrj Herbert, esq; was created Brron of Cherbury in the ** reign of King Willism ; that title being befoie extinct, by the *' failure of the main branch of the family. He was succeeded " in his title and estate at Ribbesfoid, in 1/08, b} his son, Henry ** Lord Herbert, then representative in Parliament for Bewdley ; **who, on his father's death, was cfJled to the House of Peers. *' Hewashigh-stcT^ard and recorder of Rewdley, till his death in " 1738. Hemarried-theHonourubleMary Wallop, sister of John "Viscount Limingion, (pftcrwaids Earl of Portsmouth,) by *' whom having no issue, the title became extinct, and the manor ' and estate of Ribbesford passed under his father's will to his *' cousin, Henry Morley, esq,"i\ #/' Woicesten/iire, vol. ii. 271. Ribbesford afterwards came to George Powlett, Marquis ofWin- ishester ; who, in 17 87, sold it to Francis Ingram, esq; gf Ticknell. Id. CorrectioDS, 83. [ 71 1 mote, for if we wyre tbaie on winter we slmld devo-e it. Ei^^^er, I ^Olle, wUl bring you to Kcinslop j for all other joniys 1 heleve you will rliss|^)tnce with this yeaie, and save the hors mony to pay the lesev (hies. The iji>dy Garrard, I here, is pretty well. Sir Willam Walter's son, the next week, is to mary the Lady Mary Tttiiet, sister to the Lady Co- ventry, and I hare Walter hath promest hin his estate after his death. Yonr dafters groe apase, and will want mony afore you can git it for them. Your loving wife, E. HERBERT. LETTER XLI. Prom Henry Herbert*, to his Father, Honoured Father, I am heartely glad toheare of your good health. Sir, I am very sorry to heare that you are not pleased with my epistle and verses ; and that k could not answer your expectations of me. Sir, I have made your letter into Littin, which you sent to me. I hope to see you safe at Lyncoln-House oi| Satturday next. So 1 rest, your duti full son, HENRY HERBERT. April iQth, 1607, at Lyncoln-Honse^ Westminster, For my honoured Father, Sir Henry Herbert, present. * Eldest son of Sir Henry Herbert, by his second wife, afCer^ frvdi Lord Herbert ;4n whom the barony waa revived. [ 73 ] LETTER XLII. ' >r> From H. Herbert* to the same, . . , Most Honored Sir, T Am much oblig-fed to you for your last, in which you did not so severely chide me; though I must confess I did deserve it for the too presumptuous folly mine to you did assume. Since you have excused it, you have obliged me beyond compare ', for folks faults, as their words, must not be too hard prest, for such violence obstructs the cure, and not promotes it. I have advized E. Herbert with the matters yours contained touching him. He is very much troubled that the bill of e^fchange failed. He will suddenly redresse all ; for we both intend, God willing, to set forward for London on Mun- day next, our Christmas gamballs being done. You have the servises of this family to you, and especially from me, who am, your most affec- tionate nephew and servant, H. HERBERT. My brother and selfe last week went to Mont- gomery to perform funeral ceremony to my Lady Brown ; who there now sleeps with her forefather^. Brother of Edward, third Lord of Cherbury; and second son of Ricbftrd, the lecond Lord of Cberbury. [ 73 ] LETTER XLIir. From the Lord Herbert io the same, ' ' ' Ki/ssin, ^st June, 1669. Worthy Sir, My brother Harry, as well us yourself have writ me word, that you are much taken with my Lord Ashley's sug-ar words. I pray God they tire vou not as they did my brother, and my Lord Bridg-e water, and have putt mee past patience, which has occasioned the enclosed to their Lordships, and they are t-efered for your perusall. I pray read them both, and deliver my Lord Bridgewater's first, with a sight of that to my Lord Ashley, and consult my concerns here, to effect out of hand, or else my expectations must naturally faile ; the first g"oing over being the chief time, I submit to your better judgement. But I suppose if the Lady Dowager Exeter were instructed with his Lord- ship's delaying, shee might more freely speake to his Lordship ; and if noe effects appeared a weeke after, I think my letter will not bee amisse, and a sharper shall follow ; and then it will be time to cast about by Mr. Secretary Trevor, if you have any acquaintance with him, or by my Lord Bridgewater's interest witli the Duke of York. 'J'hus you see me in confu- sion ; certainly if the King did but know my desires, they would be granted, and those that are see slack in presenting mine, and the desires t 74 ] of Scicii rs 1 am, are not liis frienrls, for T am lio'-^e^t to t'le C 'Own. I sainnitfc io your belter jivirneat, and aiii, Sir? your humble servant and neohevv, HERBEHT. This is the fourth since your returne to Miilbank. LETTER XLIV. From Sir Hf.nry Herbert to the Earle of Manchester.* Mill Bridge, Westminster, JuIt/\5, 1669. My Lord, The bearer hereof, Anthony Devotte informs me that Mr. Price, the sergeant trumpett, demandes of him twelve pence a day, as due to him from every player; whereas Devotte is not in the notion of a player, but totally distinct from that quality, and make* chewe of puppettes only by virtue of his Ma- jestie*s commission, granted to the Master of the Revells, under the greate scale, for autlioriz- ing all publicjue shewes. And the said serjeant * Edward Montague, Earl of Manchester, Lord Cliamberlain f the Housheld to Charles the 2d. He was one of the avowed patriots in the House of Peers, and the only member of that )iuse who was accused by Charles I. of high treason, together with the five members of the House of Commons. In the civil war he had the charge of five of the associated counties ; and raised an army of horse, which he commanded in his own person. After the battle of Newbury he was suspected of favouring the King's interest, accused by Cromwell, and by the self-denying ordinance, deprived of his commission. He heartily concurred in the restoration of Charles II. ; and was appointed by him Lord CbamberlalA. He died 5tb May, 1671. Granger. I 75 ] ou^^lit not to impose upon tlie saiJ Devotte, and p.itt hill! t(v^rei't trouble and charfres, but slionld have proceeded legally pgainst him, ia case lie I had rpTiised to {)ay what was legally due. But the sergeant having arrested Devotte upon his pretended clay me of twelve pence a day, and decbred against him, was nonsuited for not proceedinge,whic'i is a matter of great vexation to a stvanofer, and a sronire ari^ument asrainst the validity of the sergeantes grante. Your Lordship, therefore is humbly intreated on be- half of the said Devotte to appointe a day and houre when he shall attende your Lordship with his counsell, to be hearde before he be concluded in your Lordship's judgement. And that he may have the benefit of the law for his protection against the Sergeante's unjust de- mandes. This from your Lordship's very hum- ble servant, HENRY HERBERT. To the Right Hon. Edward Earle of Manchester, Lord Cham-- berlayne of his Majestie's houshold. LETTER XLV. From Henry Herbert to Lady Elizabeth Herbert. From Trinibj College in Oxford^ /e6. 12, 10701. Mabam, I am almost affraid to presume to begin to write now, having been soe long silent \ L 76 ] yet your Ladyship's pardon being desired for that which is past, I come now, presenting my humble duty, to promisse an amendment for the time to come. Indeed time is precious, and a good use is to be made of that which is soe. Neither can there be a better use than to exer- cise industry, and to employ it in things neces- sary, beginning first with heavenly, than pro- ceeding to our own affaires; which are, being rightly observed, noe less profitable than lawful. What ! do I instruct my instructesse ? I'll forbear, learning rather that I may write the name of your obedient sonne, H. HERBERT. My kind love to my sisters, and duty to my godfather, and kind wishes to all my friends. To his much honoured lady mother, the Lady Elizabeth Her- bert. Present. LETTER XLVI. From the same to the same. From my Chamber in Trinity Colleye, Oxforde, March 9, lt)70 1. . Ma-DAM. If I fale in my indeavour, I hope a pardon may be gained, which is to heape thankes upon thankes, and yet too, too little they'll be, if I use my utmost skill, for the last received tokens which recompence, indeed, (I I 77 ] mean thankes, and my duty, obedience to be the greatest, nor will I be wanting" in the u^uall ofFerence of the least of them,) should not be set downe with inke, but with aliquid corresponding its owne likeness, counterfeiting, though not to the full, the fore-mentioned bounty. Madam, your favours surpase my gratitude, which I shall endeavour to equalize,, though fall short, labouring alsoe to shewe myself to be (which butte 1 hope to effect) according to my endea- vours, Madam, your obedient sonne, H. HERBERT. My kinde love to my sisters, and remem- brances to whome they are meet.. These, for his honoured mother, the Lady Elizabeth Herbert. LETTER XLVir. From Abraham Campion* to Sir Henry Herbert. Sir, For a father to see his son is a desire very reasonable, and has much of nature in it ; but there is something beyond nature, that might justly move you to a desire of seeing your son, whose disposition and discretion will recommend him to those that are lesse concerned in him then a father. You may discern his countenance to * " Abraham Campion, of Trinity college, Oxford, was ap- " pointed one of the proctors, April 9, 1673 ; and admitted moral " philosophic professor, in the place of Mr. Nathaniel Hodge^i, " the 21st November in the same year." WoorfV Athma, vol. ii. 862. [ 78 ] be so free fro \i g'nill, as siiBScieally to give in an pmple testimony of his innocence. The Oe.m of Wells is not now with us. Bciijg-yoa desired a line from me, 1 was resolved to scrihle yon one in haste, rather then not answer your desires* Sir, yours to serve you, ABRAHAM CAMrXON. Oxon, Aug. 19, 71. Tbese for the Wor. Sir Henry Herbert, LETTER XLVIII.* From Edward Lord Herbert-!' to the samf Dublin, 1st Jan. 1672. Sir, A good New-yeare to you and yours, I could wish this may meete some letters from you, that may informemee of all your healths; fornow it is an ag'e since I heard from yon, or any body else out of England. You were soe constant in your favours that way, that I suspect flonie ill newes from the French army, and that ^ou are loath to let me know it. The miscar- * These letters, written from Ireland, by Edward the third Iiord Herbert of Cherbury, will be read with great interest. Their reasonings and descriptions apply as strongly to that country at this time, as they applied to it 160 years ago; and force upon us the melancholy reflection, that, while all the Other nations of Europe have been progressively advancing in civilization, wealth, and consideration, that country, " for which," fts Burke emphatically said, " God had done so much, and man *< so little," has been morally, politically, and physically, littl* lltered, benefited, or improved. t Graudsonof the first Lord Herbert, of Cberbuty, f 79 1 f ia^e of that yonni^ man would be the worst I could heare ; but I am a ohristiati, and con hi sal)mit to tiie worst can bee indicted on y*\ee. I pray, Sir, brii;^niee out of this troiil)l b-y some comfortable newse oi" hi'Ti, as likewise of the times and passages. There is nothing- here worth notice, but 1 hat our lord-lieutenant dine^ no-.y publiqu?ly,an(l by his civility gains on the better sort. The com Mons value only his money, which they say hee is too thrifty in keeping. Loves and services due, conclude mee, at this time, Sir, your humble servant and nephew, HERBERT, LETTER XLIX. From Capt. Herbert* fo the same, Nancy, Lorraine^ Jan. 9, -74. Most HoNOREp Sir, I desire you'll take care of the enclosed, to send it according to its direction, it brings into the country the news of the death of that honest feUow that accom- panied me hither, by name Dr. John Higgins, He died in the city of Metz, 3d January, a pro- testant, and made a pious e^d. lie was first taken with sickness at Treaves the fatal disease of our army. Itseazes on the brain iirst. If men have sirergth enough to r8;3ei its lirsi; efforts, it falls into their body, gives the'H the bloody flux, Oi* other looseness, whicb destroys many ; and if they esca[>e this, it falls thence into their Brother of Edward, third Lord Herbert, of Cherbury. I 80 ] leg's and feet, and rots off their toes, and sends them this way out of the world. His nature, it seems, resisted not the first fury of the disease. At the same time, another which belonged to me was thus surprized and died at Treavs ; both taken in one night, and in the same chamber where I lay, and had little service done to them, tdl 1 sent to the army for other servants to attend them, which I left behind with them, and marched myselfe away with the regiment heither to Nancy. There was nothing of care, physicke, or money wanting" to them. I sup- ply 'd all this ere I parted from them; but death would not be put off at this time. It seems it was his commanding* moment over nature, and she obey'd, much to my sorrowe, for he was the most honest, brave, and un- derstandinge fellow that ever I mett with, and by his vertue had made himselfe physitian to the regiment, and saved many in thus loosing him- selfe. I imputed il to his perpetuall being amongst the sick ; but he is now gone, yet shall my good word ever follow him. Sir, this is all to solicite you for the Duke's leave for me to send of hence for England. So I'll enlarge myselfe no further concerning the use that I shall make of it; but pray dispatch the leave to me severall ways, lest I should misse it. Sir, 1 am your most humble servant, H. HERBERT. My service in your family to all my most worthy relations. [ 81 1 LETTER L. from Lord Herbert to the same* Dublin^ the I4th Jan, 1672. SrR, There are at this present eight packets due ; and I hope, when they come, I shall hear from you, which I have not done by the three last that came in. Walcott is sent for into England as a delinquent. The truth is, what is said against him, and proved, is enough to hang him ; and yet it shall not enter into my brain, that hee has any complices, his proceedings and en- tentions beingsoe contrary to the English interest. The folly of this man has given such an advan- tadge to the whispering Irish, that, together with the Court's ill opinion of the late settled English, gives a sad alarme to those that are of antienter settlement, and ever of the King's party^ for if ever the Irish interest prevaile to unsettle the new English, the old will suffer in the throng. God cleare all to a right understanding. The purport of mine of the lift or sixt instant, touch- ing trade, 1 desire you to consider, with the best interest you can make, for the maxim of state has no good foundation, when it says, this king' clom must he kept poor, that it may depend on England. Let i t be ri ch i n trade and inhabitants , and it will depend vpon it, for the love of them^ selves a^d their own wealth. Wheras by keep- ing it continually poore, they, by warres and G I 82 ] febellioii, designe to enriche themselves on their next neighbours' goods. If they were riche, they woulde study to keepe and improve their owne, and would not be drawne in to the hazard of itt, and would render dependencies, just such as Our Enghsh tenants to their landlords. God bless you and yours, are the prayers of your servant, HERBERT. LETTER LI. From the same to the same. Dublin, the iSth Jan, 1672, Sir, X have received two letters from my brother in yours, which gives mee cause to re- joice, after I had despaired of his life ; and am obliged to you for the continuing mee in your memory. I pray, Sir, preserve me alive with your frequent notice of mee, and give mee your entelligence. I have writt to you the very quintessence of the state of this poore country, and offered it your interest for redresse, by your vote in Parliament, and a conversation with the Irish concerned men that are members of your owne House. There is noe newse here, but Walcott, who is sent with this pacquett for England. If there bee any truth in his affaires as they are now stated, hee could never have done the English soe much prejudice as his folly [ 83 ] has thrown on it ; and yet that there can bee noe complices discovered, is the best argument in the Avorld that the country is honest, I meane the Eng-lish in it. I am for the country in a fort- night's time at farthest, God willing; how long I shall stay there, God knows. With servises to yourself and lady, good Sir, your obliged ne- phew and servant, HERBERT. if my orders miscarried for doe venison, you must take a revensre in the next buck season. LETTER LII. From the same to the same. Dublin, 20th Jan, 1672. Sir, Yours of the 9th inst. came to my hands this day, with a letter from my brother; who, I perceive, is in health, in the midst of sickness. God continue him healthy, and send him well amongst us ; and if with honor hee may lay aside his command and marry, it would bee good newse ; but I dare not advise 'twixt love of family and reputation. You were but idly employ'd hitherto : now there is something for the councills of the nation to act : God send you unanimous when you meet, and not to scruple at a small inconvenience to our purses, in this time, when the honor and welfare of the king and kingdom are at stake. If the French King pro- G 2 t 84 ] deeds in his conquests, and our King" not in condition to hold him to his capitulations with him, wee shall be undone at home, and ridi- culous abroad; and doe not question but the French King will evade and impose, if the King" has not money. Whether a land-tax, or general excise, is the question of fools. A land- tax will be very pernicious to the landlords, by disheartening the tenants, and indeed give them opportunity to impose on the landlords as to accounts, and price of lands. But it will be the wisest way for to advance the King money, with less loss, for his occasions ; the way of raising it, and the certain way, being soe well known. The generall excise will bee eassist for the gen* try ; though it will be a buggbeare to a free- hotn Englishman, and a way the King will receive but an uncertain supply in this exigent of time; the bankers in the city having got such a way of imposing upon the King in all new things, untill they are better understood. And certainly, in my poor opinion, at long run, this way will prove not only of less inconvenience, but an advantage to the gentry, and to cor- porations and towns now utterly wasted for tvant of trade. It will, indeed, change the way of living in England to a mere forraine way ; for it will drive all the gentry that can't brook the touch of their cellars, into the most conve- nient towns to their own estates, where they shall buy in the market what they need, and of C 85 1 the brewer, who must bee the cohnon under- taker; 'twill enrich and fill all waste houses, encreas trade, and, instead of lessening the gentry, give them a popular interest in the se- verall towns they live in. 'Tis true it will be an occasione of mine to many good houses ; but it will likewise be the occasion of bettering many villages, and making them grow to bee great towns, with markets and fairs. There is very much more to be said, for it will be asked, vvhat .shall spend the produce of the land when hos- pitallity is laid aside by the gentry ? I will answer that the pride of a trader, yes, and sta- billity to ; that any tradesman that has 2000 6tocke and credit, shall waste in his famely more food and wearing-apparell yearly, than any landed man that has 6000 worth of lands, having noe incom nor trade, but his rents. I'll say noe more on this large subject, but that my opinion is more for home excise, for the good of the kingdom, than for a land-tax; and more for a land-tax at this present for the King's imme- diate supply. Servises where due to you and yours, I am, your obliged nephew and servant, HERBl^RT. LETTER LIII. From the same to the same, Dublin, 26th Jan, 1672. Sir, Your short letter, with one in it from my brother Harry, then in Nancy, came to t 86 ] hand last night. The times are not soe fickle as the proverb would make them. You heard from US of this world, daily, for two months alhnost, and we'eve not a word from yours, for eight pacquets come together; now wee heare from you, and our letters will not sail against the wind. A world of your members are gon aboard this evening, in hopes; and Mr. Henry Howard, who has many letters of mine to you and others. Sir, if I doe not write sence, lay it not to my charge as a fault, for I have not slept these four nights and days, being troubled with such a cold and defluction of rheum, that if the country cures mee not, which 1 attempt to get into to-morrow, and soe for Kerry, yon may conclude me dead in a short time. God fitt mee for the change. I pray excuse me to my brother, if I doe not write at this time. I can hardly holdup ray header see, say to him ; I am wonderfully sorry for the losse of his honest Higgins; and, if 1 durst say it, I would have my brother come and stay in Eng- land, and marry. With services where due in your famely circle, your affectionate nephew, HERBERT, I heare the person is married to the Lord Mohun. There, small nesse and remotenesse of estate was noe obstacle ; it was ugiy sclfe, and civilly excused. f 87 3 LETTER LIV. From the same to the same. Castle Island, 18th Feb. 1672. SfR, Yours of the 28th Jan. has been in my hands this fortnight at least, and not answered till now that I am arrived at this place, which I could wish you had scene in the order it is now, for I think it a compleat house fitt to receive any nobleman. I wish I had such a one in Lymore Park, or at Cherbury. The longer I stay here, the better enabled I shall bee to make such a one at ray returne. Be pleased to direct your letters for mee, to Mr. Worburton, the postmaster of Dublin care, and they will find mee. You write mee not that the Lady Bridges is married to my Lord Mohun, which I hear from other hands. Shee has the younger man,^ but I know who has the better estate nearest to London, Now it will bee lawfull, and noe ill manners to looke out for advantage. That concerning the Earle of Northampton I wonder not much at. There is no newse stirring here, but that since the King ordered the lord-lief- tenant to issue out a proclamation, to settle the minds of his English subjects, the natives have been a little out of countenance. Loves and servises as due, and soe I rest your obliged nephewe and servant, HERBERT. [ 88 ] LETTER LV. From the same. Castle Island, the 20th Feb. 1672, Sir, Now I am beyond the tempter's reach, (viz. the lord-lieftenant,) I shall hardly leave you a weeke unsaluted, though I have nothing- else to say. The more I consider this place, the more I like it, and wish I had had my owne will at my Lord of Ormpnd's first coming over; but it is better late than never, and tho I banish myself my native country, and my acquaintance, yet am I in my vocation; my birth-right concerns. The more 1 look on my house, the more I like it; and if my brother Henry comes over, 1 could wish my cosen Henry, your son, would beare him company. Hee'le run noe more hazard than my owne visible heire. They will neither of them give an ill report of the country at theire returne; possibly Slevelogher will be trouble- some, but with a guide there is no danger. Excuse me to my brother, that I write not to him this post, I writ the last. Receive and distribute my servises and love in your famely; and soe I rest your affectionate nephew and i^fryant, IJERJBE^T. [ 89 ] LETTER LVI. From the same to the same. Sir, I had not time to welcome myselfe home with one *^lasse of driiike, ere your letter for money was delivered mee, which I tooke care to comply with, and all before I dranke ; for I sent a servant with the fifty pounds due to my brother last Lady-day, to Lloydd, the carrier of fowles, who has undertaken the payment of it in London, as you shall perceive by the en- closed : and then for your thirty pounds, I shall be sure upon the day to send it and a buck to Ribsford. Be pleased to write your acquittance at the bottom of the enclosed, and that I may receive it by the carrier. With my services to yourself and lady, and my good cosens, I rest. Sir, your humble servant and nephew, UthJuli/, 1672. HEBBEET. LETTER LVII. From the same to tJie same. Dublin, the \9th Dec. ^Ql 2. Sir, If the winds prove not favourable, (of the changes of which wee have newse from the postmaster's notice,) 'tis not to be imputed to mee that you heare not more frequently from mee. There have three pacquets come from [ 80 ] England, and not one word from you or any- body else, which makes mee looke upon myself as a forlorne vagabond. 'Twould bee acceptable to heare from Andrew Newport at his leisure, which, to soe reddy a writer as himself, will hardly take up two minutes time. This bee pleased to say to him. I presume you will not fail me in this point. We have noe newse in Ireland, but that Walcott continues still a pri- soner of state; and on his account the g-overnors and officers doe stricter duty in the garrisons and quarters. Ourlord-lieftenant keepes his army in excellent order, and for the number of them they are as good as any in the world. Our lord lieftenant grows stronger, and in better health. The marchants of this kingdom find soe much hazard at sea, that they move for to have some friggatts assigned them for convoys; and being soe reasonably modest as to offer to maintain them at theire own charge, it is pitty but they should thrive in their request. Services where due in your family, and accept the wishes of a merry Christmas to you all. I am, Sir, your humble servant and nephewe, HERBERT. I could wish my brother at home in London, but I feare the active posture of the armies will not afford him sufficient leasure for English brawne, and plum pottage. ^ [ 91 ] LETTER LVIII. JTrom Capt. Herbert* to the same. At Liege, the 24t7i Aug, 1672; Slilo Novo* Most Honored Sir, I am confident the tinae seemes long since you received my lines. But there is this reason for it, when we rose from before Bar-le-duc, the army divided into small brigades for the benefit of marching ; and ours, which consisted of three thousand horse, came to Mastick, and have laine there confronting the foe this three weeks. We dayly beat them into the town, and have incessant skirmiches with them. This little body of men had not the honour of having a post to attendit,tili now that the King's houshold is added to us, consisting of 8000 horse ; and though I have the opportunity of writing to you, yet I expect not of hearing from you; neither can J give you directions how to send, more positive, than to the camp before Mastick, commanded by Monsieur Rochford. We expect Turenne up with another army. When that appears, 'tis to be thought we may attack it by way of siege. Hitherto we have done nothing but destroyed their forage about the town. We have encamped very close by the walls, their canon having done execution on us severall times. I begin to wish the towne * Brother of Lord Edward Herbert. Slee Letter Hit. t 92 ] ours, that we may come to winters quarters, and soe have convenience of coming for England. In this towne of Leige there is a priory of Jesuits, English, and a monastery of English nuns, hoth which I have visited. The women are handsom, and the men civil. Having engaged me to dine with them to-day, I shal here taste whether the Roman victualls be not more pleasant than their tenets. I expect this day\s work will afford me a whole pacquett of observations. Sir, I shall trouble you noe farther at this time. I am unfeignedly your most obliged and obedient, H. HERBERT. Excuse me, I pray, to those that inquire after me, that I doe not write] but acquaint them that I am well, and at their service. LETTER LIX. From the same to the same, Neare Bonne, the residence of the Bishope of Colen, Nov. 1st 1672. Honor'd Sir, I received two letters from you lately; one speaks of 50 from my brother, which he sent up to you ; I have thankt him. I'll assure you I shall be as poore as Job when 1 come over, and will endeavour to live a la soldale, rather than trouble you. I have con- ( oa ] tinually writt to yon, and the way your last letters came are certain enough, I think; but be careful what you write, only I de^re you'd impart common newse. I think it may not displease, if I give you a journal of our marches from Mastrich, whence we decamped August 30th toMaseric; 5th Sept. to Graves, there pass'd the Meaux; 6th, to Juniper; 7th, to Cleaves, the Ducal city, whence our uxorious King Henry VIII. had one of his eight wives; 9th, to Wesel, and pass'd the Rhine by bridge of boats; 10th, to Mulheim, on the river Roir, where we first, this year, lay under cover, men and horses; we call it forage quarters, being till this time en- camp'din the open field; 24th, to Agilkirk; 29th, to Geselkirk ; 30th, to Net wick. From Wesel, the right wing of our army kept close to the Rhine, and still march up the stream. 2d Oct. we pass'd Keyserwert, where we came over in the spring ; 5th, at Cranberge ; 6th, the whole army, 40,000, passed by DusseldorfF. The resi- dence of the Duke of Newberg (whose country we spoil this turn) lyes on the Rhine ; little, but pretty; the fortifications regular, but are finish- ing at this time. I saw him in the towne ; his Court is not splendide. His pretending to be 1^'mg of Poland made him run in debt to the French, which is not yet paid ; and it may be supposed that the King of France pays himselfe by foraging his army on the country. 7th, at Mulheim ; hence I went to Colon, a large town [ 94 ] of great trade, but few gentry to be seen in ity which makes it not so agreeable to the eye. The 9th, at Orback, and lay there till the 28th; then march'd to Blankenberge, where we now are. We pass'd the river Leige three times in this march. We on the left wing are thrust up amonge the boors, where we give and receive much damage, being ever most exposed of the whole army, by lying near the brutish foe. We quarter at present within musket shot of their guards^ who make us watchfulL These destroy the country before us, and flanke us soe close, that we pay dearly for our victuall oft-times; yet necessity tells us it must be had, for our pay can't maintain us, nor doe their orders confine us in this. They have barriers on their great passes, and trenches to defend them, well lin'd with boores ; and they relieve their guard, and doe things as confidently and orderly as the most disciplin'd army. We march to day this Nov. 1st, They tell us we shall leave Coblentz, and march directly for Frankford, and thence to Strassburghe, and soe pass into Lorain, being then within 7 leagues. Receive my best love and service, and present it. I'm your servant, H. HERBERT, r 95 ] LETTER LX. From T. Offley to the same. Nov, 2'2d, 73. Deare Cousen, The hopes of seing- you here caused my silence, nor can I be satisfied, untill you let me heare from you when you will give me the happiness of your company. The great news here at present is the coming of the Duke*. The Parliament of Scotland hath voted severall grievances ; Duke Lotherdell is the occation; itt's thought he vvill be put out of commistion. Eight hundred of Sir Will Lockier's men going for France, taken and car- ried into Holland. My mother this day gon to my sister Lawrence's. My sister Sa. hath been withhir five weeks, and stay eth tell my sister is brought to bed. If any thinge I can doe here for you, pray lett me know, and you will oblidge your affectionate kindsman to command, THO. OFFLEY. Pray, my services to aunt and cousens. LETTER LXL From the Rev, John Borasto?^ to Henry Herbert, JEsq; Worthy and Hopefuls Sir, Your letter of May 6 I received May 9, in the after- * Dake of York, afterwards James II. ^ Wood makes mention of one George Boraston, of Wadham college, author of " the Rojal Law, or the^Golden Rule of Ju- [ 96 ] tioOne, wherein you confiniie what I heart! before, the death of your deare father. Death is certain, and appoiuted to all ; our dayes are determined, monthes numbered, and boundes impassable sett. The Lord gave him the bles- singe of long life, and, we hope, a blessed death after old age, which is a crowne of glory, being found in the way ofrighteousnesse ; and a crowne of glory in heaven is layd up for such an hoary righteous head. The blessedness of our deare deceased relations is handkerchiefe enouirh to dry our eyes; and the will and act of the AiiMTGHTY, sufficient to measure our mourn- inge, as men of hope, which is allowed by, and will be pleasing to him who hath done it. tice and Charity," and of a Sermon, preached at the anniversary meeting of the gentlemen, inhabitants of London, and others, bom within the county of Worcester, 29th Nov. 1683; and adds that his father was minister of Bewdley, in the same county. (A then. Oxon. vol. ii. 787. J The author of the above letter, Mr. John Boraston, held this preferment for many year*, but not under the most comfortable circumstances. For a long time he was engaged in a troublesome tithe cause with Sir H. Herbert. From the oath (a copy of which is given in the Ap- pendix) administered to him early in the war between the King and Parliament, it should seem that bis allegiance was suspected by the Royal party ; and from the articles exhibited against Idra by his parishioners, (Append.) it is clear that he was known, and disliked by them, as a Royalist. If in consequence of these charges, he was dispossessed of his benefice, (which was most likely the case,) he was rewarded by living to see the restoration, and to resume again the preferment he had lost. See Appendix. John^Boraston was prebendary of Hereford ; rector of Ribbes- ford 58 years ; and died 29th Dec. 1688, aged 85. He lies buried at Ribbesford. He was succeeded in the rectory by Anthony Lucas, presented by Jlenry Herbert, esq. [ 97 ] A biirg'esse's place for Parliament is now Voide, in reference whereunto I shall neither make excuse nor other apologie for what I have done,^ but laying" the truth before you, and I Jiope your ingenuity will determine me unworthy blame* On Saturday Apriil 12, a speciall friend of Mr. Tho. Foley, senior, wrote to me, that Sir Henry Herbert was under a remedelesse distemper, and that it would be most acceptable to Mr, Foley to be our succeedinge burg-esse, though Mr. Foley would not, himselfe, move whiles Sir H. Herbert was livinge. I assured my assistance, in a letter, by the messenger; and going about noone into the tovt^ne, to present the motion to Mr. BaylifFe, he shewed me a letter requesting the succession for you, of which I heard nothing before. I spake with others of the twelve that daye, and in fewe wordes, dis- coursed both your desires, without asking for promise or hand of any one person that day or since. Mr. Foley, hearing of Sir H. Herbert's death, came to Bewdley May 5, and lighting at the George, de.Vired the company of those that have votes: many came; they dined with him; nnd after dinner he expressed his desire to them all, which seemed to me to be generally approved of; Mr. BaylifFe, and some who gave hands for you, were not there. Thus far 1 have been true to' my promise: to be true to which, were ,it your owne case, 1 knowe you will commend. Sir Henry Littleton sent Mr. Bowles, May 2d, II I 98 ] to me with the same motion ; yet, with my much respect to the worthy knig-ht, I assured him of my promise for Mr. Foley. When I can, and shall, promise, in any speciall affarre, to serve you, I shall (God willing) approve iiiyselfe most faithfull. I hope shortly to waite uppon you at Ribsford, to bid you welcome thither, and to be welcome there. Sir, 1 am your hum- ble servant in what justly I may, JOHN BORASTON. My humble respects to your lady mother, and your young ladyes. LETTER LXII. From Lord Newport foH. Herbert, EsqJ^ Eyton, 20th Aug. 73. Good Cos en, Yours of the 6th sent to London, came to my hands on Monday last, p. * Mr. Herbert did not succeed in his canvas at this time ; Tho9. Foley, the elder, being returned member for Bewdley. He was more fortunate, however, a few years afterwards, as may b gatliered from the following letter from the Rev. Mr. Lucas, to whom Mr. Herbert had given the living of Ribbesford, on th demise of Mr. Boraston : " Bewdley, 3d March, 168990. . "Hon. Sir, I have just time, being amongst your frienda, ** to signifye to you, that you are unanimously chosen Ui repre- " sentative of Bewdley. I heartily congratulate it, and assur " you that all things were performed with decency ; and, I hope, ' to all people's satisfaction. Mr. Foley and Mr. James wer I 99 ] poste, and not before; the letter it was enclosed in should have come a weeke sooner alsoe; by what mischanceit did not, I cannottell. I was at Arely the next day after you writ your lettere. I have sent you notes inclosed to the persons you desire; I wish they may not come too late ; and but to satisfye you, I should not have let liiy name be exposed at this tyme, for I doe not love to play after games, especially where there is not a probability of prevailing*; but I cannot denye you any thing, being. Sir, your very affectinate and humble servant, NEWPORT. To my much-honoured Cosen, Henry Herbert, esq; at Ribes- ford in Worcestershire. {Endorsed,) A copy of the Notes sent to William Wood and Thomas Weaver. '* present ; the latter obliges me to present you with his humble " service. Accept of mine, as likewise to my lady and little Mister. " I am, Hon. Patron^ your most faithfuU and most obliged servant, " ANTHONY LUCAS. " For Henry Herbert, esq; at the Lady Herbert's, in Leicester- " fields, London." From the following list, in the Introduction to Dr. Nash's History of Worcestershire, of the members for BcAvdley, it should seem that Mr. Herbert was returned for that borough two years before the date of the above letter 1661, Sir Henrj- Herbert; 1673, Thomas Foley, the elder, esq; 1679, Philip Foley, esq; 1680, Philip Foley, esq;- 1685, Sir Charles Lyttleton; 1 1th January, 1688, Henry Herbert, esq; 3d January, 1690, Henry Herbert, esq; after- wards Lord Herbert of Cherbury. From 1694 to 1705, Salway Winuiugton, esq; 13th May, 1708, Henry Herbert, esq; ^2d March, 1708, Charles Cornwall, in the room of H. Herbert, esq; called to the House of Peers on the death of his father. H2 [ 100 ] I desire you will give your voice to my cosen, H. Herbert, esq; to elect him burg-esse of Par- liament for Bewdley, which will be taken kindly by your loveingf friend, Eyton.WthAug. 1673. NEWPORT. LETTER LXIII. From Hex RY Herbert, Esq; to the Right Hon. iSir Edward Turner.* Ribsford, Sept. 30, 73. My Lord, The countinance your Lord- ship was pleased to give me lately at the asseizes, and the faire respect you had for my deare father, incourage me to make this tender of a request to your Lordship, by a servant's hands, who is sent on purpose ; the main cause of which being a command layed on me by my father on his death-bed, to endeavour to succeed him in Parliament, which, by your Lordship's as- sistance, I doubt not to bring to a fair issue: For Mr. Thomas Foley, senior, my antagonist in this election, for burgesse of Bewdley, to sit in Parliament, although a non-conformist, may be a sheriffe for Worcestershire, fit in severall re- * Sir Edward Turner was Speaker of the Honse of Commons f inl(>70; but being made Chief Baron of the Exchequer, was succeeded Ih Ihe oflice of Speaker, by Sir Job CarIeton,4th Feb. 1672. r 101 ] spects, which are well knowne to yonr Lordship. He stands nominated, in the booke of the clerk of the assizes, amongst the persons that are to be presented to your Lordship, and the other judges, for the yeare ensewing ; and if your Lordship will be pleased to require Mr. Parker not to alter his list, which I am informed Foley endeavours, it will be a great furtherance in my businesse, and an obligation to, my Lord, your Lordship's most humble servant, H. HERBERT. For the Right Hon. Sir Edward Turner, Lord Chiefe Baron. LETTER hXlV. From Charles Cornwallis to Henry Herbert, Esq. Hth Nov. 1673. Sir, T give yon many thankes for your kind letter sent me by Mr. Vaughan, and doe assure 3'ou, I shall ever be ready to ingage all my interest to serve you in this or any other affayer. I heartily wish I had been sooner informed of your pretensions at Bewdley, which came to my knowledge by raeere chance. If I had, it is possible I might have done you some service. The Parliament was prorogued upon Tuesday last unti 11 the 7th ofjanuary next, by which meanes [ 102 1 the writ sentdowne is invalid; of this I had given you notice sooner, had I not been under a great indisposition, and at present am not well. If hereafter you conceive I may, by any interest I have, serve you, in this affayre, he pleased to comand. Sir, your most faithful! servant, CHAS. CORNWALLIS. I pray present my humble service to my good lady your mother, and to your sisters. For Henry Herbert, esq; at Ribsford,neare Bewdley, Worces- tershire. Franck, Charles Comwallis. LETTER LXV. , From Henry Herbert, Enq; to Charles Cornwall IS, F^sq, Ribsford, Nov. 17, 1763. Sir, Yours of the 8th of this monthe is re- ceived, which makes out a great deal of kind- resse for me, and a readinesse in you to adde to your promises performances; which I have no reason in the lest to suspect, you having already given me no small indices of your good disposition. The newes of an indisposel you laboured under was very ungratefull to me ; and I hope by this time your health is returned [ 103 ] to its proper manner. The generality of your acquaintance, gained by your owne worth, will be of advantag-e to me, you having assured me of your interest. If the Parliament had not been prorogued, I designed for London the last weeke; but shall very sincerely returne you personall thankes for your favours shewne to, Sir, your most obliged servant, H. HERBERT. My mother conveys her best service to you. LETTER LXVr, From Sir Francis Winnington to H. Herbert, Esq, Sir, The affaire betvveene you and Mr. Boraston, together with some private concernes of mine owne, hathdelaied my journey for a day or two, but to-morrow certainly I goe for Lon- don: therefore I have sent the messenger on purpose with the articles, which, if you and Mr. Boraston will give creditt to me, I have drawn up as affectualiy as I can, according to your agreement and intention. But before I would have it ingrossed, I thought it convenient you should see it ; and if neither of you can send me a reason to alter it, I will have it ingrossed, and send it to you from mee to-morrow. Bee pleased to let Mr. Boraston have a view of it. [ 104 ] and returne it backe by the same messenger to Sir, your most humble servant, FRA. WINNINGTON. Stanford Court, 29th Sept. 74. My humble service attends your lady mother. To my highly honored friend Herbert, esq; at Ribsford, oeare Bewdley, present. LETTER LXVII. From Monsieur de la Place* to the same. London, Feb. 4, 1678. SjR, This is to convey into your hands these enclosed, v^'hich I had this night from my Lady. You shall have with them the Gazette, which containes the home and foreigne news, such as ve have, for the times are very barren. The Dutch post is wanting for above a fortnight, though the wind hath been good most part of that time, which makes men think that som other reason than the weather is the cause of it. * Monsieur de la Place was, probably, one of the many French Protestants, who quitted France during the cruel persecution against that great body of unforttinate people, which was in- stituted by Cardinal Richelieu, and consummated in the famous revocation of tjie edict of Nantes. He seems to have been re- tained by Mr. Herbert, as an humble friend, and political Jackal ; who was to watch, search out, and communicate to his employer, during his residence in the countrj', every political movement in these eventful and agitated times. The letters of this intelligent Frenchman which follow are highly interesting, as they afford many very curious circumstances of minute history, which are not mentioned by any of our historians. [ 105 ] Wee have a French post, which saith bat little. Here yon shall finde alsoe an order of the coiin- cill, which pleaseth the people very well. But if you think it cometh late to your hands by the date of it, blame me not for that, for it came abroad but this day. All our talk now is about the election of Parliament men for West- minster; wee thought to have Sir Tho. Clari^is for one, but som think he will hardly stand or contest, if it cost much. Sir Wm. Waller was lookt upon for one, but I heare he was taken the other day upon an execution. But Capt. Ar- nold, the brewer, stands fairest of all for it, having" a great party in Westminster. Here we long to heare how affaires goe in your parts, which, if you please to impart, you shall oblige. Sir, your most humble and obedient servant, DAN. DE LA PLACE. LETTER LXVIII. Frofn the same to the same. London^ Oct. 26, 1678. Siu, Last night I received the basket my Lady was pleased to send to me; and I entreate you that she may find here, with my humble service, my humble and hearty thanks for my good pye. Mrs. Lloyd had her pan this morn- jng; and Mrs. Strong shall have her cheese r 106 ] when she pleaseth. Sir Henry Littleton pre- sents his service to you, and to all the ladyes and should be glad to see you here. This morning I delivered your letter to my Lord Newport, who, having read it, told me he i^ould give you an answer by this post. Sooner I could not give it him, though I spent yester- day all the day in way ting for an opportunity; and though I spoke with him at the doore of the Lords' house, yett would he not heare me, nor take the letter ; he was in such haste he would speake with nobody. Your presence in the Parliament is as neces- sary as ever it can be. The life of the K., the state of the kingdom, and our religion, lying all at stake. Your friends doe wish you here, as Dr. OfHey, Capt. Herbert, Sir Hen. Littleton, and others, and doe wonder at your absence. The Parliament seems to take to heart the business of the plot*, more than the Councili did, and act m it more vigorously. They have * When the minds of men were in the disposition which such a state of things was naturally calculated to produce, it is not to be wondered at, that a ready, and, perliaps, a too facile, belief should have been accorded to the rumour of a Popish plot. But with the largest possible allowance for the just apprehensions which were entertained, and the consequent irritation of the country, it is wholly inconceivable how such a plot as that brought forward by Tongue and Gates could obtain any general belief. Nor can any stretch of candour make us admit it as probable, that all who pretended a belief of it did seriously maintain it. There are cases where reason speaks so plainly, as to make all argument drawn from authority of no avail ; and this is surely one of them. Not to mention correspondence by post, on the t 107 J sat upon the examination of Oates most part of this week, and som dayes till 12 at nig-ht. Thursday last the Commons sent for my Lord Chief Justice, and told him they had there before them a man who had discovered a plot against the Kinfv's person and the State, and who did charge with treason severall persons of a high rank, not yett apprehended. He knew his duty, and they wisht him to doe what did belong to his place on that occasion. Where- upon my Lord tooke Oates in a chamber by, and gave him his oath ; upon which, having subject of Regicide, detailed commissions from the Pope, silver bullets, &c. &c. and other circ.umstances equally ridiculous, we need oaly advert to the part attributed to the Spanish Govern- ment in this conspiracy, and to the alleged intention of murder- ing the King, to satisfy ourselves that it v?as a forgery- Fox't History, ^c. p. 31. The alleged objects of the plot were three- fold; 1, to kill the King; 2, to subvert the Government; and, 3, to extirpate the Protestant religion, and establish Popery: and the promoters and abettors of it were said to be. Pope Innocent the . XI.; several Cardinals and Jesuits; La Chaise, confessor to Louis XIV,; the Lords Petre, Powis, Bellasis, Arundel of War- dour, Stafford, and several other persons of quality. Titus Oates, a clergyman of the Church of England, but wild in his religious principles, and infamous in his morals. " In the " year 1677, being abandoned, and in want of common necessaries, " he fell into the acquaintance of Dr. Israel Tonge, a city divine, " a man of letters, and a prolific head, full of variety of projects, " and scarce ever without a pen in his hand, and a prfot in his " head." Echard. Of Dr. Tonge, Oates became the willing in- strument; and having spent some time among the Jesuits and Papists, at home and abroad, he brought his materials to his employer ; who, with his assistance, framed the papers or nar- ratives delivered by Tonge to the King and the Lord Treasurer Derby. Burnet; and Rapin, v. ii. 6^9. [ 108 ] named several Lords, he issued out his warrants for the apprehension of the following- Lords: Arundell, Powitz, Bellassis, Peters, Stafford, and Sir George Wakeman. That night the two first and the last were apprehended, and carried to the Gate-house ; in the morning there was a hott debate in the House of Lords about the priviledges of their members, as if they had been violated in the imprisoning of the said lords in that manner. But it soon appeared that all was done legally. The other lords, I heare, have been apprehended since, and the Lord Castle- maine. The Lord Baltimore is also charged with the plot ; but whether he be in England, or his government Maryland, I know not. The city of London keepes very strong guards;, but I doe not heare that any are kept here. To-day the city sent to the King, to offer him to raise the traine-bands for the security of his person ; but I heare it was not accepted. Great newes from beyond sea. Stralsund is taken, surrendered to the Elector of Brande- bourgh the 22d instant. His batteries being finished, he battered the city with bombes and hot bullets, which did sett it on fire, which could not be quenched, and burnt allmost all the city in two dayes. After the first day, the citizens would have surrendered ; but it was not in their power. The Swedes had seized their posts^ when they went to quench the fire. The se- cond day the Swedes surrendered, and are to [ 109 ] march off for Swedland, with all the cannon and morter-piece belonging to the Kin^ of Swed- land. The city keepes its ancient priviledges. In haste I remaine, Sir, your most obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. These for Henry Herbert, esq; a Member of the House of Commons, at Ribsford, to be left at the Post-house ia Bewdley. LETTER LXIX. From the same to the same* London, Oct, 29, 1678. SiRj* This is to convey unto you the in- closed. I thought I should have had one or two proclamations more to send you, about the fast, and the banishing- of Papists out of London ; but they are not yett com out. The King did not goe to-day to my Lord Mayor's feast, as he had promised when he was first invited. He seemes to fear a little more the plott than at first, whether it be by reason of greater discoveryes, or out of compliance with the Parliament; for St. James's Park is not accessible as formerly, and the doors the courtiers had in it are stopt. Besides, when the King goes out, he goes better guarded. This day, alsoe, he accepted the trained bands, but how far 1 know not ; for the Commons, in their addresse to him, had demanded them for the [ 110 1 g-nar(] of Whitehall, and of the Parliament during* this session. Gates and Tonge have been examined by the Commons, and then by the Lords ; and five lords have been sent to examine Coleman.* The papers of examination of Gates and Tongue about the plot, and the fire of London, at the desire of the Commons have been sent to them. Because the papers of Langhornef (of whom I spoke formerly) are many, a committee is ap- pointed to examine them. Yesterday, the Duchess of Mazarine was examined before the King and Council, but what was the result I know not. * Edward Coleman was secretary to the Duke of York. Bur- aet says, that he liad a whole day to make his escape, and had conveyed all his papers out of the way ; only he forgot a drawer under the table, in which papers relating to 1674 and 5 were left. Had he withdrawn all his papers, nothing had appeared : had he left all, it might have been concluded that the whole secret lay in them. He was tried, condemned, and executed. f Another person apprehended under charge of being con- cerned in the plot. Hortense Manchiniwas, by permission of Lewis XIV. heiresa to the title, arms, and estates of her uncle, the famous Cardinal Mazarine ; all which she transferred, by a marriage contract, to the Duke of Meilleraye, whom she espoused. She possessed every qualification that could inspire love, and appears to have been very susceptible of that passion herself. Having quarrelled with the Duke her husband, she came to England, flushed with the conquests she had made in her own country. She had evidently a design upon Charles II. and was regarded as a most formidable rival to the Duchess of Portsmouth. It is said, that the disco- very of an intrigue, in wliich slie imprudently engaged soon after she came over, prevented her gaining the ascendant in the royal L ni ] The King having understood that two friars, charged with the plot, are very sick, their seizure is forborne. Yesterday a house in Spitalfields was a fire, but soone quenched ; after which a match was found in the rooine. Some tooke notice of a suspicious fellow, who had been scene lurking thereabouts some dayes before. Upon search he was apprehended, and about him was found 70 in gold, and 10 in silver, though he was in very poore and pitiful clothes. He had taken a very poore lodging hard by, and in it they found a naked sword under his pillow, and a dagger. At first he pretended not to under- stand English, French, or Latin ; but at last, finding himself in danger, he writt a letter in Latin to Mr. Hill, formerly a minister in Hol- land, and whom I suppose you know; who being come to him, knew him for a Jesuit or friar, whom he had seen in Flanders or Holland. Whether guilty of any thing or not, I know not yett. This story is true. The bill for excluding the Papists from sitting in either House of Parliament is past the Commons. The letters from Holland say, that the am- bassadors of the Emperor and of the Duke of favour. The King, however, assigned her an annual pension of 4000. She lived many years at Chelsea ; where her house was daily resorted to by the witty, the gallant, and the polite. Among these, St. Evrcmond waa her avowed admirer. She died Sjd July, -1699. [ 112 ] Loraine, at Nitiieguen, had accepted of tlie peace upon the ternies proposed by the French last winter. This is all at present from, Sir, yoltr most humble and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. LETTER LXX. t'rom the same to the same. London, Oct. 31, 16tf. Sir, IDoe now expect you every day, having told you by two former letters how necessary it was you should be here in Parliament. Yoii may imagine that som will make no good con- struction of your absence. This night was buried Sir E dm. Godfrey* in St. Martin's church, with a sermon, and an ex- traordinary concourse of people. My Lord Sunderland is come home frorti France, and with him came Sir Ellis Leighton, * Sir Edmonbury Godfrey, an upright and able magistrate, who had exerted himself in the detection of the Popish plot, and sworn Gates to his narrative, was found murdered in a ditch, near London, on the 17th of October, 1678. The bloody deed was first attributed to the Catholics ; and some few years afterwards, (when that interest became paramount under James II.) to the Protestants. Rapin. His funeral was solemnized with great pomp : seventy-two clergymen preceded the corpse, which was followed by a thousand persons, most of them of rank and emi- nence. Dr. William Lloyd, dean of Bangor, and afterwards bishop of Worcester, preached the sermon. [ 113 ] wiio was no sooner ashore ut Dover^ but was clapt np, and since brought up to Newgate. His crime is said to be, his bringing letters to the plotters, and having received an abbey in France. The Parliament is busie every day in the ex- amination of the plott, and are gon so high, that they are almost at a stand ; and thence it is, as people imagine, that the Parliament begins now to goe more slowly and warily than at first, in imitation of the Councill. Coleman, in his examination, would excuse himselfe upon his master, as if he had done nothing but by his order. You have here in the Gazette the proclamation for the fast, which, though it was ordered the 25th, cam out but yesterday. That against the Papists is not come out yett. Your most humble and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. LETTER LXXT. From the same to the same. London, Nov, 5, 1678, Sir, I know you expect not only the Gazette but other small papers alsoe, which may informe you, and therefore I doe sende you these enclosed, with a few of my own collections, I [ 114 3 What I told you in my last concerning; my * Lord Arundell is true; that the Commons voted to proceed against him, by way of impeachment. What hath been done towards the disarming of Papists, doth not satisfye the Commons, and therefore in one of their addresses to the King, they desire the Papists may be disarmed. In another addresse they desire that the King would issue out a proclamation for the discover- ing and apprehending these three conspirators, viz ; Bedingfield, the Duke's confessor, Simons, and Cateway, priests or Jesuites. They desire, alsoe, that the King would sett a guard upon Whitbread, provinciall of the Jesuits, now sick in the house of the Spanish ambassador, and on another. The roofe of the House of Commons is in danger to fall, and therefore they are thinking to remove themselves where the King shall appoint. Somthing having been said in the House of Lords against the Popish regiment, though it was not said which, the Duke of Monmouth tooke it for his, and said he would consent to the disbanding of his regiment. The King hath at length consented to the desire of the Parliament, for raising the trained bands, and accordingly some regiments were up to-day in those parts. Besides which, severall troopes of horse, and companies of foot, of the King's forces, were alsoe in armes, and moving about Whitehall^ St. James, and other places [ 115 ] - thereabouts. A companie of the armed bands keeps a g-iiard to-night in oar fields, where there are two bonfires. In the House of Lords much hath been said ag^ainst the Duke of Yorke, in his presence. My Lord Shaftesbury began, and was backt by the Lords Halifax, Essex, one more, and the Bishop of London. In the House of Commons they moved for an addresse to the King, for removeing the said Duke of Yorke out of his presence and counsels ; the further debate whereof was adjourned till Friday after the 7th of November, perhaps, upon the words of Se- cretary Williamson, who told the house that they had noe need to trouble themselves about that, for the said Duke was resolved to witlw draw according to the proclamation. The Commons havinge desired the King to give them Coleman, as to life and death; to lif, if he would make a further and satisfactory dis- covery of the plot, and to death, without reprieve or pardon, if he would not : it was granted by the King, under his hand. Which the Commons having, they sent three or four of their members to examine the said Coleman, to shew him the addresse of the House, and the King's grant or warrant accordingly, putting before him life or death, as aforesaid. To which he answered, that he had discovered all that he knew. Som say that he would have retracted what he had said, concerning his master : but he ackaow- 1 2 [ 116 ] ledged that he had received moneys of France and Spain, to carry on the Catholic religion's interest ; and added, that he was soe unhappy, to have discovered so much as would hano: him. but could not save his life. A Committee hav- ing been appointed to examine Coleman's ser- vants, one of them confessed his master had more papers which his mistresse had burnt, and that he had helped her to doe it.* But perhaps I take paines in vain, by telling ;you severall of the votes of the House, which may be are sent to you more perfectly by some other hand ; or some member of your house may informe you better. But, however, till you bid nie hold my hand, I shall endeavour to informe ^ou as well I can. As for foreign news, I shall only tell you, that Mastrict was surrendered to the Dutch by the French the 5th inst, * Nothing can exceed the injustice and harshness with whick the proceedings against the unfortunate people accused of this plot were carried on. Mr. Fox observes, " witnesses, of such a " character as not to deserve credit in the most trifling cause " upon the most immaterial facts, gave evidence so incredible, or, " to speak more properly, so impossible to be true, that it *' ought not to have been believed, if it had come from the mouth " of Cato: and upon such evidence, from such witnesses, were " innocent men condemned to death and executed. Prosecutors, *' whether attornies and solicitor-generals, or managers of im- " peachment, acted with a fury, which, in such circumstances, " might be expected." " Juries partook naturally enough of the " national ferment; and judges, whose duty it was to guard them " againslsuchimprcssions, were scandalously activein confirming " them in their prejudices, and inflaming their passions." .p, 24. [ 117 ] The ratification of the peace with Spaine is 4iot yett com. With this I end at present, and subscribe myself, Sir, your most humble, old, and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACID, LETTER LXXII, From the same to the same, London, Nov. 14, 1678. Sir, Your letter to Capt. Herbert I de- livered this morning; but when I desired him to send you an answer, he said he did not know whether you deserved one, seeing you doubted of the necessity of your being in Parliament; when all lieth at stake. Religion, King, and Government, a greater necessity there can be never. Cooper hath no letter for you. Pray let Mrs. Magdalen know by these, that I have been with Mrs. Snoden, who tells me, that on Friday last she sent her the thred demanded by the shoemaker, who was then to send down som shoes. Sir, I make it my business to pick up newes for you in coffee-houses, and among accointance, and to cull the true from the false, which is by far the harder task, for nothing comes abroad, though true, but under ten or twenty faces or disguises. People's spirits being heated, give them not leave to keep r 118 ] measure; therefore I beg your pardon for a mistake or error in my last, where I named Mr. Foley, instead of Mr. Powell ; the story is true in itselfe, as you see in the Gazette, but the man mistaken. The notes of Parliament you might have had , if 1 had orders for them; therefore I could write you but what I could gather here and y there, and my memory could beare; the notes not being every where, and being stopt two or three times this Session. However, this I can say, that nothing materiall or considerable hath escaped me. The newes you will find on the. other side, after I have subscribed myself, Sir, your most humble and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE. With the Gazette you will have inclosed a printed letter which came out to-day, and which I send you more upon another man's commendation, than upon my owne judgement. Mr. Powell, mentioned in the Gazette, is thought to have been trepaned by three or four papists, V. ho had promised him to procure hiui a pass from the Duke of York, for a ship, for a sum of an 100, which, the morning that he was missing, he carried neare Temple Bar, to a cutler's house, who is a Papist. Severall other persons are missing since the discovery of the plott ; and two men have been founde this weeke drowned in the Thames, not knowne yett, as I heare. C 119 ] There lieth at this present time in the Abbey church, Westminster, exposed there to be seene by order of the Parliament, an unknowne dead man found about Ratlif, without any visible woundes upon his body, unless his neck be broken. He seemes to be a lustie man, be- tweene fifty and sixty yeares of age, and sup- posed by som to be a captain or master of a ship. Tuesday, in the House of Commons, a com- mittee is appointed to examine Atkins. Ordered, that Justice Row do attend the House, to give an account of the examination he hath taken, concerning a fire happened in the stables of Sir George Wakeraan last Sunday was seavennight. Here you must know that severall fires have been of late, and some persons apprehended on suspicion. Voted, an addresse to the King, that Sir Wm. Godolphin may be recalled, to answear an accusation of high treason exhibited against him ; for he is one of the plotters : and that the oathes of allegiance and supremacy be tendered to all men in the Inns of Court and Chancery. Wednesday was the fast. The Archbishop of Canterbury preached before the Lords, and Dr. Stillingfleet before the Commons. The ser- mons ordered to be printed. Whereas I told you in my last, that the Com- mons did not like the form of prayers composed for the fast, and by addresse desired another: and , [ 120 1 another prayer was made and printed ; I should liave added, that that did not please neither; so 'that they voted another addresse on Sunday last, which produced that bare prayer I sent you with the booke. Thursday, 14th November. The Commons have ordered to have an account of all the justices in the severall counties of England, and of all those that have been turned out these 7 yeares past. Mr. Secretary reports that the King hath sent his revoking letters for Sir Wm. Godolphin : and that he hath ordered commissions to be issued out. I suppose 'tis in pursuance of his procla- mations against Papists. Ordered, an addresse to the King, that the oathes of allegiance and supremacy be tendered to all the Queene's nieniall servants, except Porr. tugueses, and the Dutchesses of York. An addresse to have some of Coleman's let- ters printed. An addresse for a generall pardon for Bedlow. The dtibate for the Duke of Yorke's removal! from the King's presence and counsels adjourned to Monday. They say that Atkins, Mr. Pepis' servant, is a cunning rogue that denieth all things, [ 121 ] LETTER LXXIII. From the same to the same. London, Oct. 26, 1679. Sib, I received yesterday in the moniing' the baskett and the pot sent by uiy Lady; and a little after I received your letters, and Mr. Vaiighan's by the post. But I must begg- your pardon at present, if I cannot answer them in their particulars. Som impediments this after- noone, joyned with my weakness, have hindered me ; and forced me to put off my ansvver till next post, and my tbankes to my lady. How- ever, all your orders and directions shall be observed, God helping. Mrs. Floyd hath had her token ; the rest in due time. I had in my hands some golden thread for Mrs. Betty, your sister ; had paid for it, and intended to send it, as this day, by Marck Taylor; but you seeme to countermand it, or else I doe not understand your meaning- in yonr letter. Pardon this short letter, where 1 owe a long- one. Accept of all my good will, where my strength faileth; and take me for. Sir, your most humble and obedient servant, D. DE LA PLACE, 'Tis confidently reported, that the Duke of York goeth away for Scotland on Munday or [ 122 ] Tuesday next. Here is published my Lord ScrogsJ his speech in vindication of himselfe, about Sir J. Wakeman ; 'tis in two sheets. LETTER LXXIV. From Lady E. Lyttleton* to Henry Her- bert, Esq. Dear Harry, I have not writ you this fortnight, hoping, to have seen you before this; but hearing that you vrere ill, and could not come, has made me trouble you with this scribble. T suppose you have heard that Colonel Sidneyt has had notice of his tryall a fortnight X ^'The Lord Chief Justice at that time was Sir Win. Scroggs; " a man more valued for a good readiness in speaking well, "than either for learning in his profession, or for any moral " virtue.' His life had been indecently scandalous, and his for- " tunes were very low." Burnet, it. 448. * It is curious to observe how the court ladies of Charles ll.'s reign united a deep spiritofpolitical intrigue with the most un- exampled levity of manners. Were we required to point out that period in our history, when the character of English women wa least amiable or dignified, we should, without .hesitation, name the dissolule period in which the above letter was written. Plays, poems, novels, and intrigues, formed the junusements and the business of the sex ; which was without sentiment, without de- licacy, without modesty ! t Algernon Sydney, one of the noblest victims to the wicked counsels of an abandoned and tyrannical Court, was tried and condemned for conspiring the death of the King, (in the Rye- house plot,) by a packed jury, and the infamous Judge JefTeries. ' The proceedings in Sydney's case," observes Mr. Fox, " wer [ 123 ] flgoe ; but yesterday he was arraigned at the King's Bench, the bill being* found just before he came into the court. He desired to put in a special plea against the inditement ; but the judges told him, as I hear, that if his plea were overruled he could not plead after that to the inditement again, but they must proceed against him as guilty. So that he was forc.ed to plead not guilty, and they sent him back to the Tower again, and appointed Wednesday next come sevenightfor his tryall at the Court. The wit- nesses produced before the grand jury were Lord Howard, who you know what he says, and Mr. Shepard, the marchant ; who, they say, did swear to his hand : for they say, a book was taken of his owne writing, very severely and unmannerly reflecting on the government, and designed for the earring on this horrid and damnable plot. Though I must tell you what I hear on the other side, for 'tis said by some, that this book was writ severall yeares agoe, and is no such thing. The other wittnesse is Sir Phillip Loyd, who swears, they say, to the sign- ing of the papers, &c. " still more detestable than in that of Lord Bussell. The pro- " duction of papers, containing speculative opinions upon govern- *' mcnt and liberty, written long before, and, perhaps, never even " intended to be published, together with the use made of those " papers, in considering them as a substitute for the second wit- " ness to the overt act, exhibited such a compound of wicked- " ness and nonsense, as is hardly to be paralleled in the history " of judicial tyranny." Hitfry, 47. He died like a hero on the scaffold, Dec. 7, 1683. [ 124 J 1 hope ere long io see you in towue, for yoiir friends are very angry at you for staying soe long. There is a discourse as if those in the Tower would be bailed the latter end of the terme, though some say otherways, and that they'll be indited for misdemeanors, &c. Pray, if your affaires bee not very pressing, let mee see you as soon as you can. Though I would not purchase my owne happynesse by any un- easinesse to you ; for 1 doe, and ought, to value yours above my owne satisfactione; a greater, than the enjoying your company cannot bee ever in the desire of your most affectionat real I friend and servant for ever, A. L. There has one Speke and Bradden been took some time in custody ; but they are both re- leased upon baile, and an information put in against them in the Crown Office about Lord Essex's affair, &c. They gave 3000 baile. LETTER LXXV. From V*** to the same* London, March 10, 1684. Sib, Tbe morroM' after the interment of the late King,* the King went publickly with the * Charles II. [ 125 ] Queen to masse at her chapell at Whitehall, and hath ever since been constant in his houres ot devotion there, or attthe chappell of St. James's. The Princesse Annef received the sacrament after the manner of the Church of England, in the greate chappell at Whitehall, the first of this month ; the service and sermons being conti- nued there as in the late King-'s time. The King is very intent on his bnsinesse, seldom or never absent from council ; takes no iliversion but hunting, which he does for health, once a M'eek, on Mundayes, on Puttney Heath, or other places not farr distant. Soon after his brother's death, he forbid Mrs. SedleyJ the court; and has since declared, he will reforme the' court from swearing, drinking, and wenching. Thel'.ist week thehigh constable of this hundred had orders to disperse the masquerade meetings at Meggs', and gave Meggs notice of the order, and desired she would att least farbeare the en- tertainment there for some time : this not beingr done, the constable attended as ordered, and upon offer made to apprehend or unmask some in vizards there, a gentleman concerned sent to an officer at Somerset House, and prayed his as- t Afterwards Queen Anne, , I Catherine Sedley, daughter of Sir Charles Sedley, James's mistress before he ascended the throne, and afterwards created by him Countess of Dorchester. When he entirely forsook her, he sent her word either to retire into France, or to have her pen- sion of 4000 a year withdrawn. Reresby, 131, t 120 ] sistance with some miisquetteers. The officer came; a musqnett or two were discharg-ed, with- out other harme than cleaving a constable's staff. The company being' dispersed, the constable gave an account of the passages, and had a se- cond order to disperse them on Fryday, and came prepared for the purpose, attended with a regiment of bedlcs. But noe company appear-* ing at the place, the officer of the guard since received a severe check, and, 'tis said, is iii danger of being cashiered. * Sunday morning- last the King", g^oing to masse, told his attendants, he had been informed that since his declaring against the disorders of the family, som had had the impudence to ap- peare drunke in the Queen's presence, ('tis thought he reflected on the Duke of A. ;) but advised them at their peril to observe his orders, which he would see obeyed. Amongst others who have kist the King's hand. Justice Newman hath done it twice, Att his second doing* itt, he had the fortune to fall.. The King laughed heartily, and saide to the attendants, " one of tjieir justices was fallen." This, from Justice Newman; and that he is not without hopes of being Member for Westminster, The King seemes much averse against the French, or at least not to putt that value on them as his brother did. The Count de Lorges, brother to the Earl of Feversham, and a mar- shal! of France, who came hither to condole, [ 127 ] &c. and congratulate, &c. hath heeii, to the least punctilio, received by the King, as the Lord ChurehilljWas by the French king ; whicli, 'tis said, is a mortification to the Count, &c. who expected more caresses than he mett with. Most of the Companyes of Merchants (parti- cularly the East-India, Turkey, and African Companyes) having by their addresses sub- mitted to pay customes, as in the late King's time,* the privatemerchantsgraduallycomplyed, till the last week, when a shipp arrived in the Thames from the Streights, whose goods being consigned to Mr. Maynard by commission, (that is as factors or agents for the owliers,) with this particular intimation by letter, that the owners understood the King was dead, and expected from him an account of the goods, custome Jree, if they arrived safe in port before a grant by Parliament of the customes to the new King. Maynard hath absolutely refused to pay custome * James, on coming to the throne, issued a proclamation for the levying, upon his sole authority, the customs, and other duties, which had constituted part of the late King's revenue ; but to which, the Act granting^ these having expired with the Prince, James was not legally entitled. To this stretch of au- thority Mr. Fox observes that no resistance was made ; " nor," says he, " did the example of Hampden, which half a century " before had been so successful, and rendered that patriot's " name so illustrious, tempt any one to emulate his fame." History. 91. It is clear, however, from the above letter, that one British^ merchant was bold enough to stand forward and resist the un- constitutional claim of James, and that his noble example was followed by others. [ 128 ] for them, and others have since followed hjs example. The town is double g"uarded : att least all the g-iinnes mounted, new pallisadoes, &c. putt up in places convenient. The late mortality in the Horse Guardeshath occasioned their remove, on Sunday morning' last, from their iisuall station to the Mewes. So many of them have lately died, that some talk the distemper among' them is pestilentially but I hope it will appeare an effect of their extra- ordinary debaucherye on the late occasion, which made them have recourse oftener than ordinarye to the brandy shoppes and taverncs, to supply their spirits. There's more than ordi- narye watching and exercise. On Saturday was sevennight, the Chief Justice committed Mr. Ranter to the King's Bench, for a book of his, called *' Annotations on the New " Testament :" Mr. Ranter is since bayled. There are warrants out against the printer*. One of them was taken yesterday, and hath put in bayle to appere next terme. The circum- stances and consequences are too long for this paper. The late King left in his closett a hundred thousand pounds at least, in guinneys and old gold. The King hath declared he lived upon sixty thousand pounds per annum in his brother's time, and expects Prince George shall live within that compasse ; and declares much i 129 1 against profuseness, &c.; and among other thiuges against duelling; and sayes, he knowes a man hath fought nine duells, and is a very coward, having been manifestly knowne such in an engagement att sea. Some of our eminent preachers, who, since the late King's death, have been zealous against Popery, in their expressions in the pulpitt, have been lately directed to apply their sermons to preach their flockes into obedience of God and the King, and forbeare matters of controversy, &c. An intimation was lately sent to Mr. E. that it would be well if he would not oppose Sir Adam Brown in the election for Surry. The answer returned was, that he would leave the country as he found it. But I believe you have a former account of this. There is now noe certaine account of matters from Scotland, the poste being in sure hands, and all things kept extremely close from that side. 'Tis said (and not without ground) there are 10 or 12 company es shipped away for Ber- wick, upon occasion of some disorders beyond that place. And 'tis said, the E. of A. and others are in those parts. The election for Bedford is over ; a friend of yours will, in a short time, give you personally a better account of these and other matters than I can. I hope you have received mine by Philips, The most indirect and unusual meanes are now K [ 130 ] made for election, the more reason there is to suspecte the designe ; and the more earnestlye do I want you a member, to appeare like your- selfe, when others know not how, or dare not act honestly. But I cannot advise you to engag-e for any election, without as great a certainty of successe (to be returned elected) as such a matter is capable of. I knowe you know the reason. V. LETTt:R LXXVI. From Ann Herbert* to the same, 1684. I am very glad to heare you are in good health, and I received your letter just now; and the child is well, I thank God, and so are all heare. As for my brother^s things and InwelFs, I will give you the best account T can ; but if I was at London, I could give a better account of them then I cud now, for Mrs. Cooper knows what the ju wells are, and how many thare i of them, for I could aske her ; and now she may be of my sister's side. My sister has a parlle necklace of wone rowe, and a diment ring, with seven diments in it, and a gould wach of my brother's; and she has a table and stands, and a little boxe and an emreld hooke for a lute of his, all the same inlade, which stude in his chamber, and that thaye say he * " Anne, daughter and colieir of Ramsey, esq; one of th aldermen of the city of London." Col. Peer. Stipple. . i. 271, [ 131 ] gave her. My ante Colwell has a dituent ringe with one stone, and a parle necklace with two rowes, and a diment locket, that is all I know of; but if I was with you, I might know more of her. I thought yon wood not ad one it without mee. I dont know what things els she has of my brother's, for I beleave he had more then I know of. I had a letter from my maide Elizabeth Roberts, which I owe five pounds to her, and three poun six shillens for washing of pinte ; and you have the note of it, for I left it with you when I came out of London. I thought you had paid her. Pray send for her, and paye her; and git her to aske her ante about my brother's things, and what juwells he had. The churchwardens comes for a levey for the church, but I wont pay them tel I sent you word of it, to know if I shall pay them or no. It comes to wone pound seven shillens, for thaye are agoing out of the ofes. Pray send me word if I shall pay them or not by the next poste. So I conclud rite in hast, the post stase, your loveing wife, ANN HERRBET. LETTER LXXVir. From Miss M. Offley to the same, 1684. Since I wrote last 1 have been so pensive and melancholy for our great national loss*, that I * Charles II. died 6th Feb. 1684. K2 ' [ 182 ] coa*d not for the present esteame any worldly felisity or sattisfaction, which also made mee for a time abandon the company of my best friends, and neglect your commands in making" a speedy rehearsall of your letter to my L. K.* who sym- pathized with mee in our just griefs for the loss of our King, whose memory will be ever precious to us, tho' wee have a faire prospect of many happy days from the promises of his successor, which have, I suppose, before now reached you. Yesterday I was willing to take some refresh- mentj and so L. K. and myselfe went to Hyde park, where we had good aire and but a little company, which we left, with our coach, and took a walk by ourselfes to talk seriously; and then I produc'd your letter, which shee read, and smiling, said, you too must come to prayers twice a day now, for religion and morality wou'd be all the fashion, Mrs. Sedley being forbid the Court, and banished with that wor- shipfull vice which has been prevailing all the while. I'll assure you wee dull, nervous women are altogether in request now; and my ghostly father, 13 r. Kenf, (the great promoter of all moral virtue and christian graces,) the greatest * Probably " loving kinswoman." t Dr. Thomas Kenn, made bishop of Bath and Wells at the eonclusion of Charles II.'s reign. A most estimable prelate, -who attended Charles II. on his death-bed, and did the utmost to awaken his conscience. He was one of the seven deposed bishops. He lived after his deprivation with his friend Lord Wejmoutli, at Longleat, till his death, which happened 19th. March, 171011. r 133 3 court favourite, the bee has boldly asserted the truth and verity of the principles of the C* of England. Thus you see the powerfnll effects of prayers and good works. My L. K.'s have been heard ; her alms and supplycations, amongst others, have prevailed for peace and happiness, even when it was least expected ; and this makes mee hope you'll bee a perfect convert in a short time. I am sure you'l have a true sence before you come to dye ; and can reason and distin- guish nicely ; all which makes us desire your company in town, where the innocent and pro- fitable enjoyments wee had the last winter may be repeated, with much approbation and sattis- faction, to my L. K. and. Sir, your most bumble servant, Feb. 17. M. OFFLEY. You must forgive the blotts, LETTER LXXVIII. From the same to the same. Nov, 14ih. Sir, This day 1 received your obliging letter, which most justly speaks the person that writ it; for you have given mee the best testimony of your judgment and friendship imaginable, and have produced much more rational argu- Query, Commons. [ 134 ] ments, than any of my other relations ; altho* they all know the business; that is, my father and mother, and your sister hath been made ^acquainted with it by Mrs. J, Car, who was an actor in this affair; but truly I depended upon your answer, and have heitherto given no en- couragement to the gentleman to proceed; and now, tho hee has your vote, I am not his friend ; but I think you almost sacred, and cannot much disaprove of your advice. I believe I told you of his estate, as it was then represented tomee, with- out a clause which hasbeen put in since it seems; hiseldest brother is alive, and the scoole master is not to have it till his death, which you know is very uncertain ; but hee is allmost as fat as my Co George was. This man's reall incom is only six hundred a yeare by his place, and three hundred pound of his own : this he has in present possession; but I cannot prevaile with myself to accept of him and his employ- ment. Hee is, they say, learned and very ingenious; but if I were any judge, I can give you no account oft his understanding, for I never admitted him to speak ten words to mee. I wish I could discourse this intrigue and soni other matters with you, and tiien I would express myself more significantly, and endeavour %o make you on my side. My father and mother, by Mrs. H.'s instigation, are much for this man, but I am sure I shall never adher to them ; and yet your letter has brought the business into som - . , [ 135 ] dispute in my own thoughts, and the circum- stance of debauchery is very considerable. Upon my life, Sir, I could have a gaudy atheist with a very good estate; but then I consider the neglects of such a creature, after being marye^ a little while, would be as bad as this man's em- ployment: and on the other side, I am a slave to the world, and start when I think people would say, ** Mrs. O. has maryed a scoole master." Pray, Sir, forgive this confidence, and excuse these foolish declarations, which may justly lessen your good opinion of mee ; but I hope you will consider that I am much concerned, and cannot make fliy fancy comply with my friends; fori protest 'tis a great trouble to mee, that I cannot think this match for my credit and interest. Methinks the want of his bro- ther's estate, and his own employmei^t, puts it out of all disput ; and I hope you will be of my opinion, when you understand the circumstance. If I were really possessed, that it would be for the honour and happiness of my familly to marry this man, I would dispense with my own pre- judice against him; but for my part, I think if I marry the scoole-to aster, my sister Tetty must take up with the usher, and so they must all descend gradually till poore Kate corns to the Quorister ; for its certaine it can never be for their advantage to see me meanly maryed. I have drawn out this letter to the lentrth of a bill in chancery, and could never expect vour r 136 1 pardon, but that I have always found yoa the most sincere and faithful friend in the world to. Sir, your most obliged and humble servant, M. OFFLEY. Give me but one word, whether the uncertainty of his brother's estate dosnot alter your opinion, and burn this letter, for this business is a secret to every one but yourself and those 1 have men- tioned. I would not be so importunate and bold in troubling you M'ith this concern, but I know you are the best judg* what the world would think of such a match ; and since 1 am not in love with the man, I ought to regard the world. LETTER LXXIX. JFVowi Ladi/ Lyttleton to Henry Herbert, Esq. I have been so ill to-night, that I am but just able to tell you I thought I should have heard oftener from you; but doe what is most conve- niante, and what best pleases you ; spend but your time more in the consideration of the emptynes of this world, and the unspeakeable satisfackshon it will be at last to get to heaven, and 1 will be satisfied with any thing ; for your well-being heareafter is what I most desier. I sometimes fancy, if could I se whom I would,! should be better 3 but I correckt my [ 137 ] self for siitch a thought, and know it is my duty to be satisfied with the will of God, and pray be you loving where you are bound in duty forst. The next post I will writ more in unser to your letter, but now am able to writ no more. Mrs. Barker will writ to you next post. LETTER LXXX. From Lady Lyttleton to the same. London, Tuesday night. Lady Dorset can live but few days; Lord Radnall very ill; Lord Carlisle dead ; young Lady Ossere extremely ill, and with child in Ireland; old Lady Ossere very illj Lady Rochester extremely ill; Lady Ann Spencer to have the best match in Scotland, but I have forgot his name. Macarte hath Lord Arran's regiment in Ireland. Sure you left nobody here; your consern was great for , since the sight of a child made all trouble depart from your hai't; happy cretur; blesse your stars, you never knew what love was yett. Ingage your friend at Whithall to wright you all the newse of this place ; she shall have my assistance, because I shall venture no more till I have converst with you, for more reasons than the hassard of my letters. Lady Dorset hath given Mr. Powell all her personall estate, Lord Mackelfeld hath got the tryall with Selden. [ 138 ] The Doge of Genoa is, with three or fore of the Senate, on his way to Parres, to aske his most Christian Maiesty*s pardon for theare ofences. Mrs. Villers, the mayde of honour, is maryed to a man of fore hundred pounds a yeare, Farewell. LETTER LXXXr. From Sir Wili^iam Boughton, to Henry Herbert,* Esq. I have sent down my commands some time since, for another to receive my thirds at Nor- * A dispute concerning family propertj', the fruitful source of family quarrels, was the occasion of this misunderstanding. The result is unknown ; though we may be certain it was not a latal one. Mr. Herbert had much fighting blood in his veins. His uncle, the notable Lord of Cherbury, had signalized himself by numerous single combats ; and his father, as Lord Cherbury informs us, " had given several proofs of his courage in duels." Life, p. 13. One conspicuous feature in the manners of high life in the seventeenth century was a sort of rage for duelling. No gentle I man's character for gallantry or fashion could be established, unless he had killed his man in single combat. The more he had been distinguished by these deeds of blood, the more respectable was he in the circles of the gay, and the more acceptable to, and successful with, the ladies. Lord Cherbury 's life affords some very entertaining illustrations of this fact; and the interesting account in the Guardian (Nos. 129, 133) of the duel between Sir Edward Sackville (afterwards Earl of Dorset) and Lord Bruce, is a melancholy instance of the slight causes in which these " affairs of honour" originated, and the sad consequences in which they terminated. It is a pleasing proof of our general im- provement in manners, and advance in reason, humanity, and ivili^atioD, that duels are now infinitely less frequent than they f 139 ] Jiam : as to wlmt you and Gyll have clone together, I shall thinke fit to have satisfaction. You know very well what I have had for this foor or five years, which, since I expect an account from you only, my consent was never to imploy your acquaintance ; and what loss hath Ibeen through you, I hope chancery will releive. Sir, your servant, March 28, 88. W. BOUGHTON. yijese for Henry Herbert, esq; at the I^ady Herbert's house, Leicester-fields. LETTER LXXXII, ^rom Henry Herbert, to Sir Willi A-M BoUGHTON, Leicester Fields, March 29, 88. Since you are not sensible of civilities, you shall be troubled with no more from me ; but, I will treate you as you deserve : and novr I tail you what I've already done was for your Lady*s sake. More then one account you and youp agent Tillman have had, of what I received of Gill; but I've not had any account of from you, of what you've received, which I expect, be were ISOyeaisago; and that they only occur among characters, not remarkable for condition, refinement, sense, or respectability. The quarrel referred to in this correspondence seems to have been some time in maturing. It began in 1688, and came to an issue in 1G92. t 140 J assured I shall answer you in chancery, or any where else, upon the lest summons, who write my name, HENRY HERBERT. LETTER LXXXIII. From Sir Wjli.iam Boughton to Henry Hekbert, Esq. I dine at home to-day; and from thence I adjourn to the Sun Tavern, in Holborn, until 8 o'clock, or thereabouts : from thence I shall walke into the city ; if you have any thing to say unto me, I hope I shall bee able to give you an answer. lOth April, 1692. W. BOUGHTON*. LETTER LXXXIV. From the same to the same. I doe desire to know what you mean by your rudeness to my servant this morning* ; such breeding I am not acquainted with. I know not of incivility towards you. However, Sir, I expect your answer forthwith. April lOth, 1692. W. BOUGHTON. * The answer to this note was a \erbal one ; laconic, but very gross. It is copied, in Mr, Herbert's hand, at the bottom of Sir "William's note. [ 141 1 LETTER LXXXV. From Henry Herbert to /S'*Wm. Boughton. In return to your letter by the penny post, I send you one by a porter, to tell you that about 4 o'clock this afternoon, I shall be behind Southampton house, in Red Lyon Fields, where I will give you an answer. H. HERBERT. LETTER LXXXV r. From Lord Bellamont* to Henry Herbert, Esq. Worcester, March 10, 89. Dear Counryman, The complement I, as well as the rest of the gentlemen of the coun- try, paid to our High Sheriff last Saturday, in attending him to meet the Judge out of town, hindered me from acquainting you, by that day's post, that on Thursday last. Sir Jo. Packington, Mr. Philipp Foley, and I, went to the pole for the election at Droitwich. I carried it so cleverly, that there was but one vote against me; and next to me, Mr. P. Foley had the most votes. But Sir John tendered several votes which could be allowed by the bailiff to be qualified, soe * Richard Coote, Lord Coloony, and Earl of Bellamont, in the kingdom of Ireland, married Catherine the only child and heir of Bridges Nanfan, lord of the manor of Birts-Morton, Worcestershire. Lord Bellamont was made governor of New York; where he died, 5th March, 1700. t 142 ] tliat he intends to petition a committee of elections when the Parhanient sits. Tom Foley crossing" Sir John after this manner, at Wych, and setting up his brother PhiUip, has provoked Sir John to strike in for the county, and I am very confident Sir Francis Wirming-ton will be thrown out. I resolve to vote for Pack and Foley, and make all the interest 1 can for them. If Win. and the others g-oe thro' with the pole, I will not excuse 'em under 2000 a man. Sir Edward Harley is likely to have a hard contest and a doubtful one in Herefordshire. The Tories are hotter here than ever; and, I doubt not there will be some broken heads at the county pole, which was adjourned from last Wednesday to Thursday next. My cousen Bromley is your servant, has received your letter, and will answer it the next post, and provide you the Lampreys. I am yours, affectionately, BELLAMONT. Per Henry Herbert, esq; at the Lady Herbert's house, ij Leicester Fields, London. LETTER LXXXVII. From Lord Coote to Henry Herbert, Esq, London, October 3c?, 89. Dear Neighbour, I send you my newi^ letter*, that you might have news by wholesale. Yesterday a race was run between my Lord *' The newspapers were at this time, and for many years after- wards, printed in the form of letters, begiauing with " Sir," and L 143 ] Devonshire and my Lord of Monmouth at New- market, but the latter won. On Saturday. next will be run the match between my Lord of iMonniouth and Sir R. Gwin.J I am told the IKikeof Somersett (who is at Newmarkett) has invited the King to visit Cambridge, of which university the Duke is chancellor. The King has alsoe promised my Lord North and Gray to dine with him at his house ; soe that I hope his Majestic, by degrees, will become a true Ejiglishman. You know the humour of our nation is to be frank and affable, and not a little hospitable ; and noe doubt the King, by eating and drinking with his people, and shewing him- selfe often to them, will (together with his other excellent qualities) winn the hearts and souls of them. Let me know when I may expect to see you in town. I am, with all my heart, dear neighbour, your most affectionate humble servant, COOTE. ending "your humble servant," &c. They were charged each one farthing, and known by the name of the Farthing Post. X Sir Rowland Gwynne was treasurer of the chamber to King William and Queen Mary ; but removed from his office for some conversation which had fallen from him, reflecting upon Lord Sydney's conduct in Ireland. He was examined before the Privy Councill on this matter ; and the last number in the Ap- " pendix contains a particular account of what passed at that examination. Tindal, in his continuation of Rapin, vol. iii. p. 194, has given some letters from Mr. Warre to Sir Wm. Dutton Colt, envoy extraordinary at Hanover, with an outline of what passed at the Council. The document in the Appendix, however, which was a private communication to Lord Herbert, relates all the conversation that occurred there. [ H4 1 LETTER LXXXVIII. From Mr Dowdeswell* to the same. July 29, 1690. 1 had writt to you the last week, but that I was see employed in mustering', and making preparations for it, that I was forced to neg'lect all other concerns -, besides that I had nothing to tell you, but that we received a letter from the counsell, directed to my Lord Shrewsbury, and in his absence, to his deputy lieutenants, re- quireing us to seize the horses of all papists and disaffected persons, and requiringe my Lord to appoint three deputy lieutenants to judge of them ; and accordingly either to returne them to their owners, or to dispose of them, as they^ should judge most for theyr Majesties service, and to reward and encourage the seizing of them. In observance of the order, we issued out our orders to the respective captains and lieu- tenants of each foot company, requiringe them to make diligent search in the houses of all papists and disaffected persons, within the limitts of their respective companyes, and to seize the horses and arms of all such persons ; and to summon all such persons to appeare before us on the 28th instant, it being yesterday, and the * Of PuII-court, Worcestersliire ; ancestor of the Right Hon. William Dowdeswell, Chancellor of the Exchequer in the years 1765 and 1766. On the monument of the latter, in Bushley church, Worcestershire, is a long epitaph, composed hy Edmund Burke. [ 145 ] time to which our sessions was adjourned; att which time the several lieutenants made a re- turne of theyr warrants, by delivering in a list of what persons each lieutenant had summoned, and by causing" to be brought in what horses they found. The chief of the persons who ap- peared were Mr. Russell, Mr. Bartlett, Mr. Abbington, Mr. Pay, Mr. Darling, and Mr. Hanford ; to all which we tendered the new oaths and the test; which being refused by them all, we committed Mr. Hanford, upon the ac- count of his disrespectfull behaviour before us, to the common gaol. The rest^ with Mr. Bartlett's servant, we confined to the Talbot in Sedbury, and sett a file of musqueteers upon them for a guard. There allsoe appeared above halfe a score of inferior persons, who, for the generality, were tenants, and they refusing the oaths and test, we thought fitt to putt them .allsoe under cpnfinement ; but I expect that those justices who live in Worcestershire will release them this day, they being poor tenants, and truly 1 judge not dangerous, since the chiefe of the party are secured. There were many more summoned, who neglected to appeare ; the most eminent of which were. Sir Wm. Stych, a knight, and the person who is at Mr. Bartlett's, and the Lord Fairfax, who is at my Lady Yeates, and Mr. Addis; and for those three we dispatched two parties of horse yesterday, the one under the comvnand of Mr. Bromley's lieutenant, the [ 14G ] other under his cornett, to seize them 5 and as to the rest, we have issued out warrants to all constables to apprehend them, and bring them before us on Tuesday next. The horses which were seized, seemed generally to be very meane cart-horses, and under the value of 51. a piece ; only there was seized at Mr. Bartlett's a saddle- nag, worth about six pounds, about fourteen hands and an inch high. He stands fire very well, and the horse Mr. Bromley, Mr. Lechmere, and myselfe here, judged to be forfeited, (not- withstanding we have received noe authority from my Lord Shrewsbury to appoint us to be the three deputy lieutenants to judge in the case.) In all the search we have made, we have not found any armes at all. We have had here a greate alarm upon the account of the landing of the French ; which, in my opinion, struck noe great terror amongst us; the generality of people being very resolute to make a vigorous op- position. I forgott to mention to you, that the oathes being tendered to the curate of Upton- npon-Seaverne, and he refusing them, we have committed him to the gaol. I beg that you will give us your accustomed favorable acceptance, it proceeding from an earnest desire to approve myselfe your most faithful!, humble servant, RIC. DOWDESWELL. { 147 ] / LETTER LXXXIX. From Henry Herbert, JE,sq; to King William III.* July the 19th, 91. Sire, If 1 was not satisiSed in myself of an entire resolution to serve yoar Majesty in the face of all kinds of discourag-ements, I would not presume to write, especially since I fear I've labour'd under some misrepresentations to your Majesty. But your Majesty, who entertains the courage of Alexander, and the wisdom of Solomon, must be the best judge of all actions; and 'tis favour enough for me, if you are pleased to remember any thing don by me, either in Holland or England. Upon that presumption I'me encouraged to ask of your Majesty the auditorship of Wales, the place of Col. Herbert, * Henry Herbert had some claim on William's gratitude, as he had early discovered the evil politics of James II. and steadily opposed them; and crossed over into Holland in 1688, to offer his service to the Prince of Orange, in the redemption of his country from popery and arbitrary government. As a reward for these proofs of attachment, William made Mr. Herbert, suc- cessively, a Baron of the Realm in 1694; andCusto? Rotuloti'um for the county of Brecon in 1695. And Queen Aiuie made him Qne of the Lords Commissioners of Trade and the Plantations in 1705. He was distinguished for his affabilit)', politeness, and great natural abilities, which he had much cultivated and im- proved by study. He died on the 22d Jan. 1708 9, leaving, by Anne his wife, daughter and co-heir of Ramsay, esq; one of the aldermen of the city of London, (who survived him, and died 24th April, 1716,) Henry, his only Eon and heir. 'Co/Zin*'* Peerage f SuppUrmnt, voL n 272. L 2 t 148 ] who was kill'd in the late Irish eng-a^ement, &c. In his absence he left his power of officiating' with me, and I officiated here for him, so that I'rae the better prepared to serve your Majesty in that place. But I submit this, as I've don former requests, to your Majesty's pleasure, begging-, with all humility, leave to subscribe myself, great Sire, your dutifuU subject, H. HERBERT. Letter to the King. LETTER XC. Frorh Godwin Atwood to H. Herbert, Ksq, Worcester, Jan* 22 In { 185 ] companye of acters, in the axion of the caes which he had a werdict for against them, in leld Hall, woen (owing); and a part thereof, fortey pound, I hafe paid him. Witness my hande and scale the day and date over saide, THO. KILLIGREWE. JF-ilnesSy JO. CAREW, L. KIRKE. WALTER GYLES. No. 5. The heads of what I gave to Mr. Tho. Killegrew the 29th of March, 1664:. 1. To have a generall warrant for musick throughout England, which is practised already, but many are very obstinate, and refuse to take lycences, especially in cities and townes corporate, under the, pretence of being freemen. June, 1660, three companies seem to have been formed ; one in Salisbury-coxirt ; that at the Red Bull ; and one at the Cockpit, in Drury-lane. Sir Henry Herbert, who still retained the office; of Master of the Revels, endeavoured to obtain from the com- panies the same emoluments which he had formerly derived from the exhibition of plays; but, after a long struggle, and after having brought several actions at law against Sir Wm. Davenant, Mr. Betterton, Mr. Mohun, and other players, he was obliged to relinquish his claims, and his office ceased to be attended with either authority or profit. It received its death wound from a grant from Charles II. Aug. 21, 1660, authorizing Mr. Thos. Killegrew and Sir Wm. Davenant to erect two new Theatres, and two new companies, of which they were to have the regulation; and prohibiting any other theatrical representation in London, Westminster, or other places, but those exhibited by the said two companies. Malone's historical account of the English stage : edition of Shakespeare, 1813, vol. lit. page 293, 294. C 186 1 2. There being many complaints of abuses in dancing, schooles, for want of a due inspection and regulationj an order is desired (as it is a most proper branch of the Revells) that I may bee impowered [to Jycence all the dancing schooles, and to bind them respectively against viizt dancing in the schooles, and other practises, vvliich at present begetie a scandalous report of them. This work is already began, and submitted to by some; but it cannot bee done generally, unles countenaaced by legall authority. 3. Touching wakes or rural! feasts, (another proper branch of the Revells,) which are annually observed in the greatest part of England, it is humbly desired, that some countenance may be putt upon the lycencing of them, by which means many disorders may bee pre- vented; and though there bee but 10s. from the most eminent towns, and 5s. from the meaner parishes, (to bee paid annually by the churche wardens,) it will not only bee a good advancement to the office of the Revells, but will much civilize the people, who are commonly dissordered at those feasts, which are constantly at- tended with revelling and musick. 4. All quack salvers and empyrickes, under the deno- mination of raountebankes, are properly belonging to the Revells, but will not come in (notwithstanding several summons') untill compelled by regall authority4 5. The royall oake lottery, which is a modell or dumb shew, and sortition, and as cleerely belonging to the Revells as the small lottery or pricking book, which have fab antiguoj been commissioned by the office, the persons herein concerned are obstinate, and will not come in', uules compelled by his Majestie's authority. 6. For gaming, though the justices throughout England (amongst other things) bind the victuallers in [ 187 ] recognizances of 9.0 apiece, not to tolerate gaming- in their houses ; yet, nevertheless, under their noses, and to the knowledge of most justices, gaming is sett up and tolerated. Now In regard it is against the letter of the law to lycence gaming, (though to do the same is consistent with the Master of xk\e Revells' patent,; it is desired, with some cautious lymitation, that his Majesty would countenance this particular, as to the lycencing all upon easy termes, by which meanes every victueller ruay bee bound to observe lawfull sea- sons, and good orders, otherwise it will become a common custome to play on fast days, in time of divine service, and at other seasons prohibited ; and therefore some expedient to bee used that may please his Majesty, and support the power of the Revells, which hath been very much enervated, and weakended by the late times of trouble and distraction. *7. Though to grant lycences for gaming, hath been practised ever since his Majesty's happy returne, by the groome porter, and Poyntz, yet as to my particular, (who have not enjoyed the employment above nine months,) I doe act under many feares, and with much tenderness, to those few who have submitted, least I should offend the law of the land ; and therefore once againe humbly desire, that some safe expedient may bee found out to reconcile the law and the King's prerogative. No. 6. A Prayer by Edward Lord Herbert, of Cherbury. O God ! Thou, by whose power and wisdome all things at first were made, and by whose providence and goodness they are continued and preserved, still behold, from thy everlasting dwellinge above, me thy creature [ 188 ] and inhabitant of this lower world, who, from this vallejr of change and corruption, hfting up his heart and eyes to thee his eternal God and Creator, does here ac- knowledge and confess these manifold blessings, these vast gifts bestowed on me ; as namely, that before I yet was, when [ could neyther know nor consent to be great and good, thy eternall providence had ordained me tliis being, by which 1 was brought into this world, a living, free, and reasonable creature, not senseless or bruitish, but capable of seemge and understandingethy wondrous works herein ; and not only so, but of usinge and enjoyinge them, in that plentifull measure, wherein they have been hitherto afforded me. O Lord, with all humbleness I confess^ that were there no other pledge of thy favour than this alone, it were more than any of thy creatures in this life can possibly deserve. But thy mercies go farther yet. Thou hast not only made me see, know, and partake thy works, buthast suf- fered me to love thee for the blessings shew^ed us in them, I say, Thou hast admitted fraile dust and ashes to so high adignity as to love Thee, the infinite and eternall beauty. And not only disdainest it not, but acceptest, yea, and rewardest the same: and whence can this come, but from thy everlasting goodness, which, had it not vouchsafed to love me first, 1 could not have had the power (than which man has no greater) of loving Thee againe. Yet here thy mercies stay not. Thou hast not only given mee to know and love Thee, but hast written in my heart a desire even to imitate and bee like Thee, (as farre as in this fraile flesh 1 may;) and not only so, but many ways inabled me to the per- formance of it. And from hence. Lord, with how much comfort do \ learne the high estate I received in my creation, as beinge formed in thy owne simi- litude and iikenesse. [ 189 ] But, O Lord, thy mercies (for they are infinite) are not bounded even here. Thou hast, then, not only given mee the means of knovvinge, lovinge, and imi- tatinge Thee in this hfe, but hast given mee the ambition of ivnowinge, lovinge, and imitatinge Thee after this life; and for that purpose hast begnnne in mee a desire of happinesse, yea, of eteruall bhsse, and froiu thfcnce proceeded to give mee hope; and not only so, but also a faith, which does promisseand assure mee, that since this desire can come from none but Thee, nothing Thou doest can be in vain. What shall 1 say, then, but desire Thee, O Lord! to fulfill it in thy good tyme, to mee, thy unworthy creatiire, who, in this flesh, can come no nearer Thee, then the desircinir that mortality, which both keeps mee from thy abode, and makes mee most unlike Theejiere. Amen, N. B. From the original, in the hand-writing of Edward Lord Cherbury. No. 7. A Prayer by King Charles I.* Most gracious and mercifull God! who art the God of all mercies and consolations, looke upon us irf mercy, not in wrath; in judgment, not in fury. Spare us, good Lord ; spare thy people, whom Thou hast redeem'd \^ith thy most pretious blood, and bee not * As the above beautiful and affecting prayer is not to be found either in the Eilcon Basilike, or among " diverse of his " Majestie's Prayers," &c. &;c. published in 1G49, there seems every probability that it is now first presented to the public^ The copy from whiclrit is transcribed is in the hand-writing of Sir Henry Herbert, who was the faithful friend and steady adherent of the unfortunate monarch. S'ee Wood's Athence, v. ii. p62i. f 190 ] angry with us for ever. If Thou should'st bee extreame, O Lord, to marke what is done auiisse, who may abide it? But there is mercy with Thee, that Thou may'st bee feared : and in the muhitude of thy mercies, doe away our offences; blotle out all our iniquities; purge OS with ysope, and wee shall bee cleane ; wash us, and wee shall be whiter than snow. Wilt thou bee dis- pleased at us for ever? and wilt thou stretch our thy wrathe from one generation to another? Turn us, then, O God our Saviour, and wee shall bee turned, ^that thy anger may cease from us. Quicken us, that we may rejoyce in Thee. Speake peace, O Father, unto thy sons, unto lliis people, " mountains of peace," which are thy " blessings of peace." Dispose, O Lord, our hearts to peace. Punnishe the enemies to our peace; punnishe the insurrection of evill doers ; punnishe them that delight in warre; confouude all their devises, all their wicked imaginations, that they may not prosper, but that the bones which Thou hast broken may rejoyce. Showe us againe, O Saviour, the light of thy countenance, and wee shall be whole, Helpe us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of thy name; deliver us, and bee mercifull unto us, for thy name's sake, for thy son Jesus Christ's sake. O let J^he sorrowfull syghing of thyne afflicted and humbled people come before Thee. O let the faithfull prayers of tliy penitent and prostrate servants, offer a pleasinge violence unto Thee, for the cryinge sins of this nation ; that thy Holy Spirit may descende upon them, who at this tyme are assembled for peace. Inflame, O Lord, their hearts with the desire and benefits of peace^ and renew right spirits within them. Direct all their con- sultations and councells for Thy honour, the good of this Church, and this kingdome; that mercy and truth being mett together, righteousness and peace may kiss [ 191 ] each other; that being reconciled to us, and wee to Thee, in Christ Jksus, Thou may'st bee our shep- herde, and wee the sheepe of thy pasture; givinge Thee thanks for ever and ever, and s,hewinge fortlie thy prayses from generation to generation, through Jesus Christ our Lord and only Saviour, ^men. Feb. 15, 1644. REX. No. a ** Praters and Meditations in Old Age" By Sir Henry Herbert. O God, who art the antient of dales, and the Father of eternitie, Thou wiliest that in all seasons and ages thy children be disposed for dealhe. How mwch more ought I to prepare myselfe ; F, O Lord, who aiu full of yeares, and have already one foote in the grave? What is the exteriour man, which falls at the twinck- linge of the eye? Grant, therefore, that the interiour bee renewed daily; that this infirme body, which bowes towards the earthe, may instructe mee to raise my thoughts to heaven ; that the age which hath wrinckled my foreheade and skyn, may blorte out the sins of my soule, and drive away the troubles and anxieties of my heart ; that the age which makes my knees to tremble, and my haires to bee graie, may fortifie my faith, and refreslie my hopes; and that, deathe, which treades on my hceles, may make me to embrace the Prince of Life ! O Governour of heaven and earthe. Thou seest the pitifull condition to which I am reduced I begin to bee troublesome to myselfe, and unproffitable toothers; my soule is aweary of my life, but rather of my de- caye, for 1 dee now but entertaine a dyinge life, or [ 192 ] rather a liveing deathe. My .Creator and my God! I was put into thy protection before I was borne, and from my mother's wombe Thou hast been my powerful God! 'Tis Thou, God of bounties, who hast blessed my infancy, and crowned all my dales with th}'^ paternall grace, "and tvith thy pretious favours. Leave me not in my weake and white age ; and now that my strengthe failes, bee Thou the rocke of my hearte, and the power of my life. My yeares are glided away as a flood of waters, and I am noe more but a shadowe of a shadowe that is no more. But Thou art alwaies like unto thyselfe, and thy yeares shall endure for ever. As thy being is without be- gininge, so it is without ende. Renewe my daies as those of the eagle ; reanimate and reheete these colde, dead ashes ; but rather tender me thy hande from above, drawe me from this house, which is all rotten with age, and withdrawe me into thy new Jerusalem. I have loste the taste of meate and drinke on the carthe; it is time that Thou relieve me with the delicates of thy holy table, and make me drinke of the new wine of thy kingdome. I am already as out of the world ; my life holds only by a stringe. Lord, per- mit thy servant to go in peace accordinge to thy worde, for mine eies have scene thy salvation. Jpril the Gih, 72, at Westminster. Sir Henry Herbert'* Graces. Grace before Dinner. O Lord, bless these thy creatures unto our use; make them wholsome for us, us thankful! for them, through Jesvs Christ our Lord aad only Saviour. [ 193 ] After Dinner. God bee praysed; God save his Churche, the Kinge, Queene, Royall Issue, and the Realms; God forgive us our sins, and (make us thankfull: or,) cease the pJague amongst us. Amen. N.B. From the autograph of Sir Henry Herbert. No. 9. Notes and Observations by Sir Henry Herbert, during the Northern Expedition. (MS.) April 12, 1639. AtYorke. fhe Lord Trequar, treasurer of Scotland, confined to his Chamber for three daies, but releast on Easter day, and sent for Scotland ; the Lord Dyate went with him. The crowne and robes were taken at . The Covenanters tooke them, and in great ceremony bare them away, and caryed them to the Castle of Edenbouroughe, wher they ought to lye,* * The Commissioners under royal authority on Wednesday opened the great iron cliests in the Crown Room in Edinburgh Castle, and found the whole Regalia of Scotland in high order. They were found to contain the crown, sceptre, and sword of state; and also a silver rod of oiHce. -So soon as the existence of these precious relics was ascertained, the royal standard was hoisted, and the soldiers cheered a salute, which was heartily echoed from the Castle Hill, where a numerous crowd had as- sembled, anxious to learn the event of the search after these in- teresting memorials, on the fate of which some mystery had been supposed to rest. The workmanship of the crown and sceptre is highly elegant, and in good taste ; the sword, a present from Pope Julias to James IV., is of a pattern corresponding to the excelleace of the arts in Italy at that classical period. The N t 194 ] Aberdyne taken by the Covenanters, and the Marquis of Huntleye chaste to his castle, whither he was followed, and wher he swore to the Covenant in 81.* They tooke armes for 4000 men and muni- tion, which the King had sent to M. Huntley for the defence of Aberdyne. Marquis H unt- ie}" had received from the Kinge ^^0,000. Not a blowe strucke ; the reason given by the Marquis was, that the towne was divided for the King and Covenanters, Lesley commandes 2500 foote, which are drawne towards Barwicke, and 600 horse. Marquis Huntley's son commandes a troope. When more men are put into Barwicke the Covenanters encrease their number with Lesley. The Covenanters offer to be tryed by the Parliament of England, and to put in caution of "200,000, to abyde their judgment. regalia were replaced in the chest: and the Commissioners TesolYcd that they were not again entitled to open the crown- room, either to gratify their own curiosity, or that of the public, until they have made a report to the Prince Regent. Bath Chronicle, \1th Feb. 1818. * " The covenant here spoken of was the confession of Faith^ " and solemn league and covenant, drawn up in 1580 1, and " subscribed by King James, and his Royal Household, March " the second in that year; and by the whole Scots nation in the " year 1590, with a general hand, for maintenance of true religion, " and the King's person. This covenant (very different from " that sworn to by the Scots in February, 1637 8) included ** nothing of a rebellious nature in it; and therefore might be " sworn to by the Marquiss without any breach of his allegiance. " Indeed, the Marquiss of Hamilton had been authorized, by " Charles himself, to subscribe this confession of faith (as it was " called) of 1580, when he was sent into Scotland in 1638." Jiuskwflrth, vol. i. part 2. p. 767. [ 195 ] The churchmen of England have not fur- nish te ^^25,000, whoundertoke greater somes. That the D.* of Ireland blowes the coales, and advisethe the way that is taken. That the busines passethe throughe two of three men's hands. That the Lords who are come to attende the Kinge have no respect shewed them, nor is their advise demanded. That the Lords refuse to parte with their horses and men. That my Lord of Northampton, in the flame of divers Lords, and in their presence, tould the Kinge, that they were come to Yorke, accordinge to the commande of his Mty's letters, and desired to - . The declaration made by the Lordes upon oathe had these effects : King's decia- That the King expected only clvill obedience thePirionoff**om his Scotchc subjects. That the King the Lords, expected the assistance of the Lords in defence only of England, and not for the invasion of Scotland, or any other countrye. To the hazard of life, " uttermost,*' and *' fortunes," left out. 'Tis believed it will not bee offered to the TheEarIc of ai'mv, E^t"//'''' On Sonday the 21st of April, 1 639, the Northampton,King scDt for the Lords that were at Yorke, Lo^Ta"viie^^ *^" wayte upon him. And, before his Lords of LordPauiet, the Counscll, gavc them thanks for their Lord Hay- eheerfull attcndaticeon his pcrsou, butthat they ward, L?rle of * J Newport. might havc expressed their duty at less charge, * The Deputy of Ireland, Lord Strafford. o 2 [ 190 J Put them in minde of the disobedience of the Scots. Offered the Lords an oathe, which the Lords of the Councell tooke, and all the other Lords, but the Lord Sey and the Lord Brooke, who, for refusinge. were committed, my Lord Sey to the Lord Maiors, and the Lord Brooke to the Recorder's. Whether the King was lawful! King of Scotland ? HavingC anSWCrcd Ves.-^Whether the Quarreil was just ? They ^i knew notWhether they held inteUigei.ce SOmC qUCStlOns, they with the Covenanters, or receiTed any letters? were SCnt homC froill Some without deaigne. . Yorke, and confined to their houses. Sir James Kermichel carryed away the King's proclamation of grace, inclosed in my Lord of Essex's answer to the Cove- nanters. Kings are bounde to mayntaine religion; and religion, Kings. King James tould King Charles on his death-bed, that he was bound to mayntaine the churche for God's sake, and even for his owne sake too; for when the church declyned, his power would declyne. The Lord Trequar told the Kinge, that, if his Majesty had a will to performe what he had promiste to the Covenanters, the best way was toacte it cheerfully, and with hand- someness to his people ; but if the King thought to outwitt them, he would bee deceived. King James sayde, that he who hath an ill tongue, had neede of good handes. AtNcwfas- King Charles sayd, that his Deputy of Mav'idjQ. Ij^^I*"*^ ^^^ given him notice that the Scots Durham, May 2d. The 6th the Kinge re- moved from Durham to Newcastle, [ 197 ] of Ireland, by petition, had desired the De- puty to give them, by oathe, or otherwise, a way to express their fidelity to the Kinge, and detestation to the Covenanters. King sayd The King sayd at the same tyme, that, h'ad^twol'cn.^^'slykinge my Lord of Argile's discourse, 8ciencs, as he cal'd the Earles of Roxboroughe and i'\ * T^ and Morton to bee witnesses, and puttinge leighe sayd of , . . my Lord Cob- the same questions to them, which his Ma- tam. jestye had formerly done to the Lord Argiie they assured the Kinge of their lives and fortunes, in case that were made good : the lyke did the Lord Argiie; but the Lord 'Hamilton, by the King's commande, dis- solving the assembly in the raorninge, my Lord Argiie went into the assembly in the afternoone. My Lord Hamilton's mother walkes Eden- horoughe streets with a case of pistols, and souldiers at her heeles, saying she goes to beate her son. My Lord Hume's servants were offered an abatement of rent, if they would goe alonge with them ; but some desired a renewing of their estates, which caused my Lord Hume to disarme them. 8rh May, A third son of my Lord of Huntley's came *^25* this day to the Kinge by sea, and offers 3000 men, for the Kinge's service in the Northe, governed by Kilderoy, a rebell and outlawed person, and so are his men. He demandes mony and amies. Yesterda}' Seton came to the Kinge, from this Lord, disguised as a fiddler. I 198 ] Two dayes before, a messenger was taken with letters for the Cardinal de Richlieu, by Sir Thomas Gleman. Texte: Jhe K. hath commanded the Bishop of be subject "to J^uJ'hj^na to printe his sermon. A Lord tel- the higher ling the K. that his sermon was not excellent, powers, Sec. though he was a learned man, the K. replyed, that the Puritans of England had a great opi- nion of him, and that it might dp some good among them. Scotche pro. Always to defende, is, not defende. **^' On Saturday the 11th, the Lord of Rox- burghe tould the K., at Newcastle, that his son, the Lord Carr, was turned Covenanter ; in the afternoone, the K. committed him to his chamber. On Monday the 13th, Lyon King of Armes for Scotland, brought the K. newes, that Sir James Kermichel was stayed by the Cove- nanters; and that he did not make procla- mation, because the C6venanters threatene4 to hange him. He was committed at the tyme. Scotche pro- 1 am as near you as your soule to the ^ ' grounde ; meaninge, the sole of your shoe. The Kinge tould me " that it was strange " the covenanters re[X>rted that they could " not bee heard, when they never ^oughie him " but as one Sovereigne seekes another. " That the covenanters had deposed a f minister for prcachingf on the Fifihe Com- *' mandiuent; that it was unlawful for sub- *< jects to take amies against their Kinge. " That the reason of settiuge up rulinge " elders was to curbe the ministers." [ 199 ] May 16, 1639. Sir James Hamilton brought a letter to the Kinge from my Lord Hamilton, written by the Lord Rothes to the said Marquis ; where the Lord Wrothes chargeth him to be the instrument of mischiefe happened to that kingdom ; callinge him Iraytor divers tymes in it, and offers to prove it. Earl of Rut- The Same day, the voluntary Lords, being Norchampton,^^^^''^ the King, refused to make a troope of E. of Devon- their men. The K. being so gratious as to B k 1 ^* ^ Ic^ve them to their owne way, they chose to LordSaint put their men into severall troopes, and each John, Lord Lorde gave his opinion by turne; named his L"j*3^^iye^ number of men, and the troope he would put L.Dunstane, them in. L. Pauiet. j^Qj. j^ Lord put any men into the General's troope, which troubled him. ' The General's orders were proclaymed the ' 16th May. Confin'dto My Lord of Roxbourghe examined by the the Maior'3 gecretarvs of England and Scotland. The K. bemg persuaded not to venture his person and army against desperate men, answered, that he remembered what Cava- liero Swyfte had say'd, being to fight with a man that had nothinge, *' that he would not " venture a thousand pounds a yeare to no- thing." May,Satur- The Kinge and army encamped at Gost- On Sonday I heard a sermon at the Holy Island with my Lord Brereton ; and May 27. On Monday, the Kinge and armye remove4 and laye down by the River Twyde, in sight of Scotland, [ 200 ] , Mayag. On Wednesday night the Kinge laye in the field. May 31. My Lord Generall went to Dunse in Scot" land, and brought away from my Lord Hume's, Witherington's evidences, which gave my Lord Hume cause not to come in, tho* he had promist it under his hand. The Scots that are about the Kinge, seeme to hould their lande, by the tenure of givinge / the covenanters inteUigence of all that passethe in the Kinge's armye. The covenanters are cominge, but, 'tis in armes. Two things To eate likehoundes, and lye like dogs. Jearnt. jyj^ j^^^.^ ^^ Holland, with 12 troopes of ^Tr'^^d horse, 3000 foote, and 44 field pieces, was sent June. to charge the covenanters at Helsall, but apearinge stronge, he did not, and returned. He did outmarche the foote : was dared by the covenanters, who came marchinge towards him, and made him quitt the grounde he was on. My Lord of Holland sent a trumpet to knowe what they did so neare, contrarye to proclamation ? They answered, because he came so neare them; and that he had first broke the proclamation. He replyed by the trumpetj that he did advise them to leave the place. They answered, that it would bee best for him to doe so , and if he did not remove, they would make him remove. Thp Duke of Lennox put the Kinge in mind of their modesty, that might have charged the reare of my L. of Holland's horse, and would not. The Kinge sayd, " it wa true," C 201 1 On Monday night, the 3d June, 1639, the Kinge dreamt, that Mr. Porter had brought Lesley to him to kiss his handes. The K. hath la the maiche to Dunse, my Lord New- ^''^^^0? castle, being put into the reare by the Gene- Newcastle, rail of the Horse, told the Generall it was by precedent j|^g Prince's troope : but takinsr no notice of of the Dau- ... , , , i . phin's troope this, he Ordered him to niarche m the reare; inFrance, to which he obeyed, but puU'd off the colours, marchenext ^ ^^^^.^j^^ ^-^^ the staffc Only. Ills owne. _ -^ Disputes 'twixt the Governor of B irwick and the Generall; 'twixt the Generall and Generall of the Horse. To reduce the garrison to 1000. To give the souldiers no paye for extra- ordinary service. On Wednesday the 5th June, Lesley apeared with his army near Duns. On Thursday, the Earle of Domfarlinge brought a petition from the covenanters to the Kinge, and kiste in his handein comminge and goinge. The Knight Marshall was sent with him to the covenanters about seaven of the clock at night. To require them that the proclamation bee read : To remove the campe out of the Verge, The King was in counsell three hours before he resolved on this course. On Friday the Knight- Marshall returned to the Kinge, made a fair report of ther obe- dience to the Kinge's demands ; that the pro- clamation was read ; and reade before Lealey, some few Lords, and a hundred parsons. L 202 ] They petitioned * anew upon the Knight- Marshall's motion ; whereupon the King granted leave for their cominge on Monday, by eight of the clocke in the morning, to my Lord Generall's tent, with six persons only. This was signifyed for the K.'s pleasure, under Secretary Cooke's hande; but they desired it under the Kinge's, by my Lord Donfarlyn, and it was granted. On Tuesday the llth June, they mett at my Lord Generall's tent, and the King's Counsell received them. They were no soner sett, but the K. went in amongst them, and debated the points in qivesiion, in most wise, just, and gratious maner. On Thursday they mett in the morninge, when the Kinge was present, and presented their demands in writinge. On Saturday the 15th, the K. gave them answer, which they accepted, and kiste the King's handes. The Earle of Wrothes, the Lord Lodoun, the Earle Donfarlyn, Sir William Duglas, sheriffe of Divedale, Mr. Henderson, Mr. Johnson Clarke, register to the Assembly ; these two last came in Thursday and Saterday. My Lord Wrothes tould the Kinge, that he would finde three leaves in the booke Bel- canio, published in his name, wherein ther was not three lines of truth together. Offered to prove it; but was not cal'd. To my Lord Wrothes desiringe the K. to declare ther should bee no bushops : " You ** would not have me innovate: and why should [ 203 ] "I determine that which is in question? *' Your lawes may exclude them, but I will " not. " That suspicion was no just cause for " subjects of takinge armes. " That no acte was committed, but to satisfy ther desires, in taking away the ser j vice, booke, &c. *^ That he was deceived in the chaj^actcrs of the men." At Lesley's dinner, the priest that s^yd grace had a carabyn on one syde, and a sworde on the other; and being asked " why he was " so armed?" answered, " to learne the trade " of a souldier." " That he would fighte or " preache with the bushops, but not drinke ^' or sweare." " That it was the Assembly of " Christ; and that Christ was above the " Kinge, and that therefore the Kinge had " no power over it." The preachers enforce it "as Christ's cause; that they fight for *' their salvatjon ; that as many as dye in the " cause, dye martyrs ; that the Kinge hath " power to indicte au assembly, but nob- to *' dissolve it ; that the Kinge hath no nega- *' tive voyce in it." The grace after dinner was halfe an hower long. One woman in Edinbroughe gave five hun- dred pounds Englishe to the minister foT the busines. The women began the noyse against the bushops, and pursued it. The Covenanters paid 10,000 mensixe pence ^he day apeace, being prest men. Others had t 204 ] two-pence and two loaves the day. No Cap- tayne tooke paye. All other men did beare ther owne charges. Not a man of ther army dead in six weekes, to the IQth June, the tyme they had been together. All thinges were done by comon consent and purse. Motto in ther colours : The Covenant. For Religion. The Crowne. The Countrye. The Lady Marques had three companys. In her flag was a woman dishevelled, with an anchor in her hande. Ne deseras, Domine, might have been the wordes. On Tuesday the 18th June the peace was concluded; the articles, on the Kinge's part, signed by Secretary Cooke and Secretary Ster- linge ; on the Covenanters, by E. Wrothes, E. Dunfermlin ; and on Thursday the ^0, the Covenanters discharged ther army; the 21, delivered Eklinborough Castle to my Lord Hamilton, who put Generall Ryven into it. Other things performed. No. 10. A Grant of Wardship.^ Charles Rex. Whereas our Wardship of George Bennett, esq; is committed to the custody of our trusty * " Before the 32d year of King Henry VIII. wardships were ** usually granted as Court favours to those who made suit for, " and had interest enough to obtain them." Ritson. " During " the existence of the feudal tenures, on the death of any of the ** King's tenants, an inquest of office, caUed Inquisitiopost mortem^ [ 205 ] and well-beloved servant, Sir Henry Herbert, knight, at ^200 per annum, under the scales of our Court of Wardes, and our great scale of Eoglaiid, and that the greatest part of our said Warde's estate, as wee are cre- dibly informed, lyinge near our garison of Beauvoir, may, by industry, yield us our yearlye rents with the arrears, and our Committee, the rest of the proffits for the use of the Warde, You are therefore required by us to ayde and assist Sir Henry Herbert, knight, his assignee or assignees, with such numbers of horse, as may enable him, his assignee or assignees, to collect and gather such monies out of our said Warde's estate, as are due to us, and to our Committee, for our Warde's use, and from tyme to tyme shall growe due to us and to our Committee as aforesayd ; wherein you shall doe us a very accepta- ble service. Given at our Court at Hereford, the sixthe day of September, in the one and twentieth yeare of our reigne, l645. By his Majesti's command, EDWARD WALKER. To our. trusty and well-beloved Sir Gervase Lucas, linight and baronet, Governor of our Castle of Belvoir, and to all officers under his command. ** was held, to inquire of what lands he died seized, who was hi* ' heir, of what age he was, &c.; and in those cases, where the " heir was a minor, he became a ward of the crown ; the land " was seized by its officers, and continued in its possession, ot " that of the person to whom the crown granted.it, till the heir < came of age, and sued out his livery, or ou^terlemaiTie, that is, " the delivery of the land out of his guardian's hands. To regu- " late these enquiries, which were greatly abused, many persons " being obliged to sue out livery from the crown, who were by no " means tenants thereunto, the Court of Wards and Liveries " was instituted by stat. 32, H,en. VIII. c. 46."^Black. Com. ii. 61, Hi. 258. Malone. ^The Court of Wards was abolished in the reign of Charles II. [ 206 ] No. 11. The Protestation or Oaths administered by Prince liiipetf, I, A. B. beinge hereunto required, doe willingly and in the presence of AlhiighTy God^ solemnly vow and protest as followeth. 1. That I believe noe power of Pope or Parliament can depose our Soveraigne Lord and Master Charles, or absolve me from my naturall allegeance' and obedience unto his royall person and successors. 2. That the two houses of Parliament, without the King's cortsente, have no authority to make lawes, or to binde or oblige the subjects by theire ordinances. 3. Wherefore I believe that the Earles of Essex and Manchester, Sir Thomas Feirfax, Sir William Waller, Collonall Massy, together with such as already have or hereafter shall take up arraes, by autiiority and com- mission of the Members of Parliament att Westminster pretendinge to fight for Realme and Parliament, doe hereby become actuall rebells ; and all such oughte, with all theire adherents and partakers, to be perse- cuted and brought to condigne punishment. 4. That myself will never beare armes in theire quarrell; but, if I shall bee thereunto called, will assist my Soveraigne by his armies in the defence of his royall person, crown, and dignity, against all contrary forces unto the uttermost of my life and fortunes. 5. That I will not discover the'secrets of his Ma- jesty's armies unto the rebells, nor hold any corres- pondence or intelligence with them, and all designes of theires against our Sovereignes armies, or for the sur- prisinge or deliveringe up the cittys of Worcester or Ilereford, or of any oihe/ of his Majesty's fortes, I [ 207 ] shall truely discover to whom it slidl concerne, as soone as it comes to my knowledge. 6. That his Majestie's taking up arraes for the causes soe oft by him declared in print, is wise and necessary, 7. Tliat I will endeavour to put down all popular tumults, risings, rendevous, meetings, confederacys, and associations of the people, inanyof the townes, hundreds, or countyes, which are not warranted to assemble by his Majestie's express comission, or by power derived from him, by virtue of his commissions, and in the sense he means itt. 8. I doe from my harte deteste that seditious and trayterous late-invented nationall covenant; and I protest never to take itt. All these particular articles I vow and protest sia- cerely to observe, without equivocation or mental re- servation. So heipe me God! This is a true copy of the protestation taken at Hereford by Prince Rupert's commande, in 1645, whilst I was governour of Hereford; and the sayd protes- tation was taken by John Boraston, parson of Ribbes- ford, ait a Councell of VVarre in Hereford, in my pre- sence. Dec, toth, 1646. B. SCUDAMORE. Copy of another Paper. On Sonday the 18 th Seplemb. 1642, the Parlament forces, commanded by CoUonell Tynes, came to the gates of the citty of Worcester, about eight of the clocke in the morninge, and made an assault upon the gate that leeds for London, when they had many men slaine by the souldiers in the citty, commanded by Sir Tho. Litleton and Sir John Byron ; and after some two hovvers fighte, retyred towards Auster. [ 208 ] On Thursday, the-Kinge sent into Woster 20 tropes of dragoneers; and on Friday, the Prince Robert, generall of the horse, went from Bevvdley, wher he laye on Thursday night, and enter'd Woster about twelve of the clock. The townsmen of Bewdley were disarmed, and fyned, whicli was payd, and came to , for their ill behaviour in the execution of the duties of militia. No. 1% Articles exhibited against John BoRASTON, ctarke, h^ divers of the Parishioners of Ribseford. That the said John Boraston lived in the late King's quarters from the yeare l642 untill l646, and enjoyed the proffits of his rectory all the time that the said county was under the powers of the late Kinge, when all well-afFected ministers to the Parlament quitted their meanes and residence in the said county. ThatthesaidBoraston went voluntarily from hislivinge jn Wostersheir, to the late King's garrisons at Oxford, Worcester, and Hartlebery, and into his quarters before Glocester, and was very conversant with the late King's Commissioners for Worcestersheir. That the said Boraston did officiate second servise at the alter, so called, in the chapeil of Bevvdley, with his- surplus and hood, in June l644, or thereabouts, notwith- standinge an ordinance of Parliament to the contrary. That the said Boraston enjoyed two spirituall livinges in If 47, contrary lo an Acte of Parlament, and received the proffits of both the said livinges, the one beinge in Wostersheir, the other in Shropsheir, [ 209 ] That the said Borastoii gave warninge to his parish- oners of Ribsford, in the church of Ribsford, to observe the 25th day of December, in l643, comonly called Christmas Day; and that the said Boraston would give ihem a sermon on the said day. And havinge assem- bled some of the parishoners, preached unto them on the said day, in the said churche, and exhorted them to the observance thereof, notvvithstandinge an ordi- nance of Parlament to the contrary. That the said Boraston hath not only raysed the duties payd by the parishioners to his predecessors, incumbents, butexactesnewdutis upon his parishioners. That the said Boraston hath left his parishioners many times without a sermon on the Lord's day, and preacheth only in the morninge on the Lord's day, when hee, the said Boraston, doth preach, though the neighbourding doe preach constantly twise every Lord's day. That the said Boraston frequents taverns and ale hovvses, and countennncethe an unlicensed ale howse in Ribsford, by his frequent being there, which occasioneth great disorders all the weeke, but especially on the Lord's day. That the saide Boraston lives from the parsonidge, and hath done so for all the time of his being rector there, whereby the soules of his parishioners are neg- lected in sickness and in health, and the pore unreleived. No. 13. Aditionall Articles exhibited against John Boraston, cletke, by diverse of the Parishoners of Ribsford in Wostershire. That the sayd Boraston d:d voluntarily lende severall sumes of money to the King's Commissioners at Woster against the Parliament. o r ^o 3 That the said Boraston went voluntarily from his liveinge in Wostershire, to the King's Courte in Glos- tershire, and to the King's army lyeinge before Glos- ter; and held intelligence with the Lord Viscount Falkland, then Secretary to his Maiesty, That the said Boraston continued in Wostershire whilst it was under the King's comand, and injoyed the profitts of his liveinge, when all well affected ministers to the Parliament left theyr liveings, and theyr profitts. That the sayd Boraston hath not administered the Sacrament in the parish church of Ribsford, or in the chappeli of Bewdley, for the five yeares last past, or thereabouts. That the said Boraston, notwithstandinge, doth receave Easter duties and offerings soe called from the said parishoners, and threatenes others of the said pa- ri shoners for refusing to pay. That the said Boraston is of a very proud and con- tentious spiritt, and doth lord it over his parishoners, callinge honest men knaves, and honest women witches. THOMAS DAWSON. No. 14. A private Communication to Lord H. Herbert. A Relation of ichat passed betweene the Lord Sidney and Sir Rowland Gwynne, before the Privy Cbuncill, on Thursday Aprilllth, 1692. The Queen present. Sir Rowland Gwynne being called in, the Lord President sayd, Sir Rowland Gwynne, the Queen expects you will now give her Maiesty a further accompt of what you sayd to her Maiesty concerning the sale of offices ia [ 211 ] Ireland, and my Lord Sidney's receiving bribes for them. If it be true, it is a great dishonour to her Maiestie's government, and to that Lord ; but if it be not soe, it is fit the matter should be cleared. SirR. Gwynne. My Lords, what I sayd to her Maiesty was in conscience of my oath, which I tooke when their Maiestyes honoured me with being their servant. I have done nothing but my duty. I intended their Maiestyes service, without designing the hurt of any body. Then applying himself to the Queene, he sayd, I have as great deference for your Maiesty as any subject ever had for any Prince ; but 1 hope your Maiesty did not apprehend what I sayd to your Maiesty soe as to think I did intend to become an accuser of my Lord Sidney. If 1 had the misfortune to offend your Majesty in what I sayd, 1 am infinitely sorry for itt; and knowing the integrity of my heart, shall yet hope to satisfie your Maiesty, that in this affaire 1 have most sincerely sought your Maiestyes service, and nothing else. Then speaking to the Lords: But, my Lords, I have noe complaint to make to your Lordshipps against my Lord Sidney; nor did I ever intend to make any to your Lordshipps, If I had any complaint to make, your Lordshipps know tliat my Lord Sidney is a Peer of England, and, a Parlia- ment silting, is not obliged to answeare here or in any other place but Parliament; soe that I think nobody can reasonably expect I should make a complaint, if I had any, where it cannot be indulged. Upon this there was silence for neare a quarter of an houre, and at last the Lord Sidney sayd. Sir Rowland Gwynne, when you were at my house, and I repeated to you what the Queen had told me you [ 15Q 1 sayd to her Maiesty, and desired you would produce the author of this report before the Councill, or I must charge you with itt, I thought you intended to bring witnesses against me. Sir R. G. I did not tell your Lordshipp 1 would, that I know of. Lord Sidney. I cannot say you did in words, but I understood you soe- My Lords, I desire Mr. Poultney maybe called in, to tell you all what passed betweene me and Sir R. Gwynne. Sir R. G. My Lords, if there is any accusation against me in due forme of law, to which I am bound to answeare, I doubt not to cleare myselfe; but if there be none, then I know not to what purpose this witness should be called in against me. If your Lordshipps think such an examination legaP^ I must submitt to it foithe present. Lord President. He is not to be called in against you, but to satisfye her Maiesty. Upon this Mr. Poultney was called in. Lord President. INow he is come in, I know not to what purpose, nor what to say to him* Lord Rochester. I suppose he is called in to con- firme what passed betweene my Lord Sidney and Sir R. Gwynne. Mr. Poultney. I was sent for by my Lord Sidney on Wensday morning, the 23d of March last, to testifye what should passe betweene my Lord and Sir R. Gwynne; my Lord having sent to Sir R. G. to desire hiiu to come and speake with him. 1 was there before Sir R. G. came, and followed him into my Lord's roome, and perfectly remember all was sayd, being prepared to charge my memory with itt. My Lord sayd. Sir Rowland Gwynne, the Queen hath told me that you have accquainted her Majesty it is publicly [ 213 ] sayd, that all places are sould in Trelanrl; and when she bid you speake to me of itt, you sayd I was the most improper person to be applied to in this case, for if the places were sold, who but I could receive the money for them. 1 must justifie myself herein before the councill, and I desire you will produce your authority for this report before the councill, or I must charge you with itt. Att which Sir R. Gwynne seem'd surpriz'd, but said little to itt. Sir R. G. My Lord President, 1 desire your Lord- ship will please to ask this gentleman, whether I sayd to him, or to my Lord Sydney, that my Lord Sidney had sold places, or received bribes. Lord Sidney and Poultney. Noe, you did not say soe. Sir R. G. I desire you will please to ask this gen- tleman, if I owned to my Lord Sidney the words he repeated to me. Mr. Poultney. Noe, you did not acknowledge them to be spoke by you, but I thought you did tacitely owne them. Sir R. Gwynne. It is very strange, that if a man says nothing, he shall be said tacitely to owne whatever is talked to him. Lord Sidney, -Sir Rowland Gwynne, Sir Henry Vane and M. Murrey have told me, that you saide to them I had solde a place for seven hundred pounds. Sir R. G. My Lords, I know them both, and believe them honest gentlemen. I doe not remember I told them soe, and desire they may be called in. But I suppose this may be meant of 7001. 1 spoke to the Queen about, which was given to a custom-house officer. Lord President. Pray, Sir Rowland Gwynne, tell us if you have any thing that you can accuse my Lord Sidney of. t [ 214 ] Sir Rt G. My Lords, I have nothing that I shall accuse my Lord Sidney of before your Lordshipps. Then Sir R. G. withdrew, and about an houre after was called in. Lord President, Sir Rowland Gwynne, some of the Councill understand, that you accused my Lord Sidney of receiving ^700 for an office in the Custom-house; but 1 think itt a hardship, that any gentleman's wordg should be ujdged till he explaines them. Sir R. G. My Lords, 1 am sorry my words should be soe mistaken, for I meant nothing of that nature, as I will imediately satisfye your Lordshipps. When her Maiesty was pleased to honour me with the audience whence the businesse had its sole rise, I came to acquaint her Maiesty that I had information brought me of their Maiestyes being cheated of a French ship of great value; that the person who came to me undertook to prove into what hands the goods were delivered, and did not doubt but to make the whole matter soe clearly appeare, that their Maiesiyes might recover their value by the end of next tearrae ; that the said ship had been seised at Scilly for their Maies- tyes, but was released by a Custom-house officer there, for a bribe of 700l. which he could prove. Lord Newport. Sir Rowland Gwynne, before you goe, pray tell us if you can say any thing of my Lord Sidney's taking money for any places in England, Scot- land, or Ireland. Sir R. G. I have nothing that I think fitt to say further to your Lordshipps. Then Sir R. Gwynne withdrew'. FINIS, Printed by Richara CiiittwcU, Scjames's-bcieet, Baih. 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