Familiar Letters:

VOL. I.

Written by the Right Honourable John, late Earl of ROCHESTER, TO THE Hon ble Henry Savile, Esq And other LETTERS, by Persons of Honour and Quality.

WITH LETTERS Written by the most Ingenious Mr. THOMAS OTWAY, AND Mrs. K. PHILLIPS.

Publish'd from their Original Copies.

With Modern LETTERS, by THO. CHEEK, Esq Mr. DENNIS, And Mr. BROWN.

The Third Edition, with Additions.

London: Printed for Nath. Sackett at the Heart and Bible in Cornhill. 1699.

TO D r. RADCLIFF.

I Have presum'd (tho' I knew at the same time how hainously I trespass'd against You in doing so) to inscribe Your Name to the following Collection of Letters. As You were no stranger to that Excellent Per­son, whose Pieces Composes, by far, the most valuable part of it, so I was satisfy'd that every thing, from so Celebrated a Hand, wou'd be acceptable and welcome to You; and in that Confidence, made bold to give You the Trouble of this Address. My Lord Ro­chester has left so establish'd a Reputation be­hind him, that he needs no officious Pen to set out his Worth, especially to You, who were ac­quainted so perfectly well with all his Emi­nent Qualities, that made him the Delight and Envy of both Sexes, and the Ornament of our Island. In every thing of his Lord­ship's writing, there's something so happily express'd, the Graces are so numerous, yet so unaffected, that I don't wonder why all the [Page]Original Touches of so imcomparable a Ma­ster have been enquir'd after, with so Pub­lick and General a Concern. Most of his other Compositions, especially those in Verse, have long ago bless'd the Publick, and were receiv'd with Ʋniversal Delight and Admi­ration, which gives me Encouragement to believe that his Letters will find the like Re­ception. Tho' most of them were written up­on private Occasions, to an Honourable Per­son, who was so happy in his Lordship's Ac­quaintance, with no intention to be ever made publick; yet that constant good Sence, which is all along visible in them, the Justice of the Observations, and the peculiar Beau­ties of the Style, are Reasons sufficient, why they should no longer be conceal'd in private Hands. And indeed, at this time, when the private Plate of the Nation comes abroad to relieve the present Exigences, it seems but just, that since the Dearth of Wit is as great as that of Money, such a Treasure of so good Sence and Language, shou'd no longer be bu­ried in Oblivion. With this difference, how­ever, That whereas our Plate, before it can circulate in our Markets, must receive the Royal Stamp, must be melted down, and take another Form; these Ʋnvaluable Remains want no Alterations to recommed them; [Page]they need only be taken from the Rich Mines where they grew; for their own Intrinsick Value secures them, and his Lordship's Name is sufficient to make them Current.

As for the Letters by other Hands, that make up this Volume, some of them were written by Gentlemen that are wholly stran­gers to me; and others belong to those that are so much better known in the World than my self, that I can say nothing upon this Oc­casion, but what falls vastly short of their Me­rit. But I cannot forbear saying something of Mr. Otway's: They have that Inimi­table Tenderness in them, that I dare oppose them to any thing of Antiquity: I am sure few of the present Age can pretend to come up to them. The Passions, in the raising of which, he had a Felicity peculiar to himself, are represented in such lively Colours, that they cannot fail of affecting the most insen­sible Hearts, with pleasing Agitations. I cou'd wish we had more Pieces of the same Hand; for I profess an intire Veneration to his Memory, and always look'd upon him as the only Person, almost, that knew the se­cret Springs and Sources of Nature, and made a true use of them. Love, as it is generally manag'd by other Hands, is either raving and Enthusiastical, or else dull and languishing: [Page]In him alone 'tis true Nature, and at the same time inspires us with Compassion and De­light. After this, I will not venture to say any thing of my own Trifles that bring up the Rear. Some of 'em were written long ago, and now huddled in haste; the rest had a little more Care and Labour bestow'd upon them. If they contribute in the least to your Entertainment, which was my only Design in publishing them, I have attain'd my Ends: I have some others by me, which I may, per­haps, publish hereafter, if these meet with any tolerable Success.

I need not (and I am sure I cannot) make You a better Panegyrick, than to acquaint the World, that You were happy in my Lord Rochester's Friendship, that he took plea­sure in Your Conversation; of which even his Enemies must allow him to have been the best Judge, and that in the Politest Reign we can boast of in England. The Approba­tion of so impartial a Judge, who was in his Time, a Scourge to all Blockheads, by what Names or Titles soever dignified, or distin­guished, is above all the Incense that a much better Hand than mine can presume to offer: Shou'd I put out all the Dedication Sails, as 'tis the way of most Authors, I cou'd soon erect You into a Great Hero, and Deli­verer; [Page]and tell how often You have trium­phed over inveterate Distempers, and restor'd the Sick to that only Blessing, that makes Life supportable. I cou'd tell how, by Your single Merit, You have baffled a Faction form'd a­gainst You with equal Malice and Ignorance; I cou'd tell what marks of Munificence You have left behind You, in the Place that was honour'd with Your Education; and how ge­nerously ready You are to serve Your Friends upon all Occasions. But after all, the highest thing I will pretend to say of You, is, That You were esteem'd, and valu'd, and lov'd by my Lord Rochester. 'Tis true, as there never was any Conspicuous Merit in the World, that had not (like Hercules) Mon­sters to encounter, so You have had Your share of them; but, Heaven be prais'd, Your Ene­mies, with all their vain Endeavours, have only served to fix Your Interest, and advance Your Reputation: Tho' I know You hear of nothing with more uneasiness, than of the Fa­vours You do; yet I cannot omit to tell, and indeed I am vain upon it, That You have con­descended so low, as to divert those Hours You cou'd steal from the Publick, with some of my Trifles, that You have been pleased to think favourably of them, and rewarded them. For all which Obligations, I had no other way [Page]of expressing my Gratitude but this; which, I am afraid will but inflame the Reckoning, instead of paying any part of the Debt: But this has been the constant Ʋsage in all Ages of Parnassus, and, like Senators that take Bribes, we have Antiquity and Ʋniversality to plead in our Excuse. But I forget that You are all this while in pain, till the Dedica­tion releases You: Therefore I have nothing but my Wishes to add, That You, who have been so happy a Restorer of Health to others, may ever enjoy it Your Self, that Your Days may be always pleasant, and Your Nights easie, and that You'll be pleas'd to forgive this Presumption in

Your most Humble, and most Obliged Servant, T. BROWN.

THE BOOKSELLER'S Preface.

HAving (by the Assistance of a Wor­thy Friend) procured the follow­ing Letters, that were written by the late Incomparable Earl of Rochester, (the Originals of all which I preserve by me, to satisfie those Gentlemen, who may have the Curiosity to see them under his Lordship's Hand) I was encouraged to trouble others of my Friends, that had any Letters in their Custody, to make this Collection, which I now publish.

Indeed the Letters that were written by the above-mention'd Honourable Per­son, have something so happy in the Man­ner and Style, that I need not lose my Time to convince the World they are genuine. I may say the same of Mr. Ot­way's Letters, that they are full of Life and Passion, and sufficiently discover their Author. And that this Collection might be compleat, I got some that were writ­ten by the Fam'd Orinda, Mrs. Katherine [Page]Phillips, to be added to the rest; together with others by some Gentlemen now living, that the Reader might have a Va­riety of Entertainment.

Our Neighbouring Nations, whom I don't believe we come short of in any re­spect, have printed several Volumes of Letters, which met with publick Appro­bation; I am satisfied, that if the Gentle­men of England wou'd be as free, and Communicative to part with theirs, we might shew as great a number, and as good a Choice as they have done. It has been used as an Objection against pub­lishing things of this Nature, That, if they are written as they ought to be, they shou'd never be made publick. But I hope this Collection will disarm that Ob­jection; for tho' the Reader may not un­derstand every particular Passage, yet there are other things in them that will make him sufficient Amends.

I have only a word more to add: Up­on the Noise of this Collection, several Gentlemen have been so kind, as to send me in Materials to compose a Second, which is now printed; and, on the Print­ing the Second, I have procured as many of the Lord Rochester's the Duke of Buck­ingham, [Page]and Sir George Etheridge, which will almost make a Third Volume, which if I can compleat, it shall be publish'd next Trinity-Term; and therefore those Gentlemen that have any Curious Let­ters by them, written by those Honour­able Persons, and are willing to oblige the Publick, by letting them come a­broad, are desired to send them to me, who will take Care to have them faith­fully Transcrib'd for the Press, and Print­ed in the Third Volume; which will be intirely theirs, and no Modern one mixt with them.

A TABLE Of all the LETTERS in this Volume.

  • SEveral Letters by the late Earl of Ro­chester, to the Honourable Henry Sa­vile, Esq from p. 1. to p. 50.
  • The Earl of L—'s Letter to the Honourable Algernoon Sidney, p. 51.
  • Algernoon Sidney's Letter against Arbi­trary Government, p. 60.
  • Two Letters by another Hand, to Madam— from p. 67. to. p 72.
  • Love Letters by M r. Otway, from p. 73. to 87.
  • A Letter from—to Mr. Gp. 88.
  • A Letter to the Duke of Vivone, by the Fam'd Monsieur Boileau. Translated by Thomas Cheek Esq p. 91.
  • A Letter by Mr. Dennis, sent with Monsieur Boileau's Speech to the Academy of Paris, upon his Admission, p. 102.
  • Monsieur Boileau's Speech to the Academy. Translated by Mr. Dennis, p. 106.
  • Letters of Courtship to a Woman of Quality, from p. 118. to p. 133.
  • A Letter of Reproach to a Woman of Qua­lity, p. 134.
  • [Page]A Letter of Business to a Merchat's Wife in the City, p. 136
  • Letters by the late celebrated Mrs. Kathe­rine Phillips, from p. 137. to 152.
  • A Letter to Mr. Herbert, p. 152.
  • A Letter to C. G. Esq in Covent-garden, p. 156.
  • To the Perjur'd Mrs.— p. 163.
  • To the Honble —in the Pall-mall, p. 168.
  • A Letter to my Lady— p. 173.
  • A Consolatory Letter to an Essex-Divine, upon the Death of his Wife, p. 179.
  • A Let to the fair Lucinda at Epsom, p. 183.
  • To the same at London, p. 185.
  • To W. Knight, Esq at Ruscomb, in Berk­shire, p. 189.
  • To a Gentleman that fell desperately in Love, and set up for a Beau in the 45th Year of his Age, p. 197.
  • The Answer, p. 200.
  • A Letter to his Honoured Friend, Dr. Bay­nard, at the Bath, p. 202.
  • A Letter to Mr. Raphson, Fellow of the R. Society, upon occasion of Dr. Conner's Book, entituled, Physica Arcana, seu Tractat. de Mystico Corporum Statu; to be Printed by Mr. Briscoe, p. 213.
  • A Letter to the L d North and Grey, p. 218.
  • To a Friend in the Country, p. 221.

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Familiar Letters, By the Right Honourable, JOHN, LATE Earl of ROCHESTER.
VOL. I.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

Dear SAVILE,

DO a Charity becoming one of your pious Principles, in preserving your humble Servant Rochester, from the imminent Peril of Sobriety; which for want of good Wine, more [Page 2]than Company, (for I can drink like a Hermit betwixt God and my own Con­science) very like to befal me: Re­member what Pains I have formerly ta­ken to wean you from your pernicious Reso­lutions of Discretion and Wisdom! And, if you have a grateful Heart, (which is a Miracle amongst you Statesmen) shew it, by directing the Bearer to the best Wine in Town; and pray let not this highest Point of Sacred Friendship be per­form'd slightly, but go about it with all due deliberation and care, as holy Priests to Sacrifice, or as discreet Thieves to the wary performance of Burglary and Shop-lifting. Let your well-discerning Pallat (the best Judge about you) travel from Cellar to Cellar, and then from Piece to Piece, till it has lighted on Wine fit for its noble Choice and my Approbation. To engage you the more in this matter, know, I have laid a Plot may very probably betray you to the Drinking of it. My Lord — will inform you at large.

Dear Savile! as ever thou dost hope to out-do Machiavel, or equal Me, send some good Wine! So may thy wearied [Page 3]Soul at last find Rest, no longer hov'ring 'twixt th' unequal Choice of Politicks and Lewdness! Maist thou be admir'd and lov'd for thy domestick Wit; belov'd and cherish'd for thy foreign Interest and In­telligence.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

YOU cannot shake off the States­man intirely; for, I percieve, you have no Opinion of a Letter, that is not almost a Gazette: Now, to me, who think the World as giddy as my self, I care not which way it turns, and am fond of no News, but the Pro­sperity of my Friends, and the Con­tinuance of their Kindness to me, which is the only Error I wish to continue in 'em: For my own part, I am not at all stung with my Lord M—'s mean Ambition, but I aspire to my Lord L—'s generous Philosophy: They who would be great in our little Government, seem as ridiculous to me as School-boys, who, with much en­deavour, and some danger, climb a Crab­tree, venturing their Necks for Fruit, which solid Pigs would disdain, if they [Page 5]were not starving. These Reflections, how idle soever they seem to the Bu­sie, if taken into consideration, would save you many a weary Step in the Day, and help Gy, to many an Hours sleep, which he wants in the Night: But Gy would be rich; and, by my troth, there is some sence in that: Pray remember me to him, and tell him, I wish him many Mil­lions, that his Soul may find rest. You write me word, That I'm out of fa­vour with a certain Poet, whom I have ever admir'd, for the disproportion of him and his Attributes: He is a Rarity which I cannot but be fond of, as one would be of a Hog that could fiddle, or a singing Owl. If he falls upon me at the Blunt, which is his very good Wea­pon in Wit, I will forgive him, if you please, and leave the Repartee to Black Will, with a Cudgel. And now, Dear Harry, if it may agree with your Affairs, to shew your self in the Country this Summer, contrive such a Crew toge­ther, as may not be asham'd of passing by Woodstock; and, if you can debauch Alderman Gy, we will make a shift to delight his Gravity. I am sorry for [Page 6]the declining D—ss, and would have you generous to her at this time; for that is true Pride, and I delight in it.

ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

Dear SAVILE,

THIS Day I receiv'd the unhappy News of my own Death and Bu­rial. But, hearing what Heirs and Successors were decreed me in my Place, and chiefly in my Lodgings, it was no small Joy to me, that those Tydings prove untrue; my Passion for Living, is so encreas'd, that I omit no Care of my self; which, before, I never thought Life worth the trouble of taking. The King, who knows me to be a very ill-natur'd Man, will not think it an easie matter for me to die, now I live chie­fly out of spight. Dear Mr. Savile, af­ford me some News from your Land of the Living; and though I have little Curiosity to hear who's well, yet I would be glad my few Friends are so, of whom you are no more the least than the lean­est. I have better Compliments for you, [Page 8]but that may not look so sincere as I would have you believe I am, when I profess my self,

Your faithful, affectionate, humble Servant, ROCHESTER.

My Service to my Lord Middlesex.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

I Am in a great straight what to write to you; the stile of Business I am not vers'd in, and you may have forgot the familiar one we us'd hereto­fore. What Alterations Ministry makes in Men, is not to be imagined; though I can trust with confidence all those You are liable to, so well I know you, and so perfectly I love you. We are in such a setled Happiness, and such merry Secu­rity in this place, that, if it were not for Sickness, I could pass my time very well, between my own Ill-nature, which inclines me very little to pity the Mis­fortunes of malicious mistaken Fools, and the Policies of the Times, which expose new Rarities of that kind every day. The News I have to send, and the sort alone which could be so to you, are things Gyaris & carcere digna; which I [Page 10]dare not trust to this pretty Fool, the Bea­rer, whom I heartily recommend to your Favour and Protection, and whose Qua­lities will recommend him more; and truly, if it might suit with your Chara­cter, at your times of leisure, to Mr. Bap­tist's Acquaintance, the happy Conse­quence would be Singing, and in which your Excellence might have a share not unworthy the greatest Embassadors, nor to be despis'd even by a Cardinal-Legate; the greatest and gravest of this Court of both Sexes have tasted his Beauties; and, I'll assure you, Rome gains upon us here in this point mainly; and there is no part of the plot carried with so much Secresie and Vi­gour as this. Proselytes, of consequence, are daily made, and Lord S—'s Im­prisonment is no check to any. An account of Mr. George Porter's Retirement, upon News that Mr. Grimes, with one Gentle­man more, had invaded England, Mr. S—'s Apology, for making Songs on the Duke of M. with his Oration-Consolatory on my Lady D—'s Death, and a Politick Dis­sertation between my Lady Ps and Capt. Dangerfield, with many other wor­thy Treatises of the like nature, are things worthy your perusal; but I durst not [Page 11]send 'em to you without leave, not know­ing what Consequence it might draw up­on your Circumstances and Character; but if they will admit a Correspondence of that kind, in which alone I dare presume to think my self capable, I shall be very in­dustrious in that way, or any other, to keep you from forgetting,

Your most affectionate, obliged, humble Servant, ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

Dear SAVILE,

WEre I as Idle as ever, which I shou'd not fail of being, if Health permitted; I wou'd write a small Ro­mance, and make the Sun with his dishrie­vel'd Rays gild the Tops of the Palaces in Leather-lane: Then shou'd those vile En­chanters Barten and Ginman, lead forth their Illustrious Captives in chains of Quicksilver, and confining 'em by Charms to the loathsome Banks of a dead lake of Diet-drink; you, as my Friend, shou'd break the horrid Silence, and speak the most passionate Fine things that ever He­roick Lover utter'd; which being softly and sweetly reply'd to by Mrs. Roberts, shou'd rudely be interrupted by the envi­ous F—. Thus wou'd I lead the mournful Tale along, till the gentle Rea­der bath'd with the Tribute of his Eyes, the Names of such unfortunate Lovers [Page 15]sensible, that it is Natural for you to be kind to me, and can never more de­spair of it.

I am your faithful, oblig'd, humble Servant, ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE, Embassador in FRANCE. Begun, White-hall, May 30th, 79▪

Dear SAVILE,

'TIS neither Pride or Neglect (for I am not of the new Council, and I love you sincerely) but Idleness on one side, and not knowing what to say on the other, has hindred me from writing to you, af­ter so kind a Letter, and the Present you sent me, for which I return you at last my humble Thanks. Changes in this place are so frequent, that Fhimself can now no longer give an account, why this was done to Day, or what will ensue to Morrow; and Accidents are so extrava­gant, that my Lord W— intending to Lie, has, with a Prophetick Spirit, once told truth. Every Man in this Court thinks he stands fair for Minister; some give it [Page 17]to Shaftsbury, others to Hallifax; but Mr. Waller says S—does all; I am sure my Lord A—does little, which your Excellence will easily believe. And now the War in Scotland takes up all the Discourse of Politick Persons. His Grace of Lauderdale values himself upon the Rebellion, and tells the King, It is very auspicious and advantageous to the drift of the present Councils: The rest of the Scots, and especially D. H—are very in­quisitive after News from Scotland, and really make a handsome Figure in this Conjuncture at London. What the D. of Monmouth will effect, is now the general Expectation, who took Post unexpectedly, left all that had offer'd their Service in this Expedition, in the lurch; and, being attended only by Sir Thomas Armstrong, and Mr. C—will, without question, have the full Glory as well of the Pruden­tial as the Military Part of this Action entire to himself. The most Profound Politicians have weighty Brows, and care­ful Aspects at present, upon a Report crept abroad, That Mr. Langhorn, to save his Life, offers a Discovery of Priests, and Jesuits Lands, to the value of Fourscore and ten thousand Pounds a Year; which being [Page 18]accepted, it is fear'd, Partisans and Ʋn­dertakers will be found out to advance a considerable Sum of Money, upon this Fund, to the utter Interruption of Parlia­ments, and the Destruction of many hope­ful Designs. This, I must call God to witness, was never hinted to me in the least by Mr. P— to whom I beg you will give me your hearty Recommenda­tions. Thus much to afford you a taste of my serious Abilities, and to let you know I have a great Goggle-eye to Business: And now I cannot deny you a share in the high satisfaction I have receiv'd at the account which flourishes here of your high Prote­stancy at Paris: Charenton was never so honour'd, as since your Residence and Mi­nistry in France, to that Degree, that it is not doubted if the Parliament be sitting at your Return, or otherwise the Mayor and Common-Council, will petition the King you may be Dignified with the Title of that place, by way of Earldom, or Duke­dom, as his Majesty shall think most proper to give, or you accept.

Mr. S— is a Man of that Tenderness of Heart, and approv'd Humanity, that he will doubtless be highly afflicted when he [Page 19]hears of the unfortunate Pilgrims, tho' he appears very obdurate to the Complaints of his own best Concubine, and your fair Kins­woman M—who now starves. The Packet inclos'd in your last, I read with all the sence of Compassion it merits, and if I can prove so unexpectedly happy to succeed in my Endeavours for that Fair Unfortunate, she shall have a speedy ac­count. I thank God, there is yet a Harry Savile in England, with whom I drink your Health last Week, at Sir William Co­ventry's: and who, in Features, Proportion and Pledging, gives me so lively an Idea of Your self, that I am resolv'd to retire into Oxfordshire, and enjoy him till Shiloe come, or You from France.

ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

ANY kind of Correspondence with such a Friend as You, is very agree­able; and therefore You will easily be­lieve, I am very ill when I lose the oppor­tunity of writing to You: But Mr. Povy comes into my Mind, and hinders far­ther Compliment: In a plainer way I must tell You, I pray for Your happy Resto­ration; but was not at all sorry for Your glorious Disgrace, which is an Honour, considering the Cause. I wou'd say some­thing to the Serious part (as You were pleas'd to call it) of Your former Letter; but it will disgrace my Politicks to differ from yours, who have wrought now some time under the best and keenest Statesmen our Cabinet boasts of: But, to confess the Truth, my Advice to the Lady You wot of, has ever been this, Take Your Measures just contrary to Your Rivals, live in Peace with all the World, and easily with the King: [Page 21] Never be so Ill-natur'd to stir up his Anger against others, but let him forget the use of a Passion, which is never to do You good: Che­rish his Love where-ever it inclines, and be assur'd You can't commit greater Folly, than pretending to be Jealous; but, on the contrary, with Hand, Body, Head, Heart, and all the Faculties You have, contribute to his Plea­sure all You can, and comply with his De­sires throughout: And, for new Intrigues, so You be at one end, 'tis no matter which: Make Sport when You can, at other times help it. — Thus I have given You an Ac­count how unfit I am to give the Advice You propos'd: Besides this, You may judge, whether I was a good Pimp, or no. But some thought otherwise; and so truly I have renounc'd Business; let abler Men try it. More a great deal I would say, but upon this Subject; and, for this time, I beg this may suffice, from

Your humble and most affectionate faithful Servant, ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

Dear SAVILE,

'TIS not that I am the idlest Crea­ture living, and only chuse to imploy my Thoughts rather upon my Friends, than to languish all the Day in the tediousness of doing nothing, that I write to You; but owning, that (tho' You excel most Men in Friendship and good Nature) You are not quite ex­empt from all Humane Frailty; I send this to hinder You from forgetting a Man who loves You very heartily. The World, ever since I can remember, has been still so insupportably the same, that 'twere vain to hope there were any alterations; and therefore I can have no Curiosity for News; only I wou'd be glad to know if the Parliament be like to sit any time; for the Peers of England, being grown of late Years very considerable in the Go­vernment, I wou'd make one at the Ses­sion. Livy and Sickness has a littlein­clin'd me to Policy; when I come to [Page 23]Town, I make no question but to change that Folly for some less; whether Wine or Women I know not; according as my Constitution serves me: Till when (Dear Harry) Farewel! When You Dine at my Lord Lisle's, let me be remembred.

Kings and Princes are only as Incom­prehensible, as what they pretend to re­present; but apparently as frail as Those they Govern.— This is a Season of Tribulation; and I piously beg of Al­mighty God, that the strict severity shewn to one scandalous Sin amongst us, may expiate for all grievous Calamities.— So help them God, whom it concerns!

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

IF Sack and Sugar be a sin, God help the Wicked; was the Saying of a merry fat Gentleman, who liv'd in Days of Yore, lov'd a Glass of Wine, wou'd be mer­ry with a Friend, and sometimes had an unlucky Fancy for a Wench. Now (dear Mr. Savile) forgive me, if I confess, that, upon several occasions, you have put me in Mind of this fat Person, and now more particularly, for thinking upon your pre­sent Circumstances, I cannot but say with my self, If loving a pretty Woman, and hating Lautherdale, bring Banish­ments and Pox, the Lord have mercy up­on poor Thieves and Ss! But, by this time, all your Inconveniences (for, to a Man of your very good Sence, no out­ward Accidents are more) draw very near their end: For my own part, I'm taking pains not to die, without knowing how to live on, when I have brought it about: But most Human Affairs are car­ried [Page 25]on at the same Non-sensical rate, which makes me, (who am now grown Superstitious) think it a Fault to laugh at the Monkey we have here, when I com­pare his Condition with Mankind. You will be very Good-natur'd, if you keep your Word, and write to me sometimes: And so Good-night, dear Mr. Savile.

ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

WHether Love, Wine, or Wisdom, (which rule you by turns) have the present Ascendant, I cannot pretend to determine at this distance; but Good­nature, which waits about you with more diligence than Godfrey himself, is my Se­curity, that you are Ʋnmindful of your ab­sent Friends: To be from you, and for­gotten by you at once, is a Misfortune I never was criminal enough to merit, since to the Black and Fair Countess, I villa­nously betray'd the Daily Addresses of your divided Heart: You forgave that upon the first Bottle, and upon the second, on my Conscience, wou'd have re­nounc'd them, and the whole Sex; Oh! That second Bottle (Harry!) is the Sin­cerest, Wisest, and most Impartial Down­right Friend we have; tells us truth of Our selves, and forces Us to speak Truths [Page 27]of others; banishes Flattery from our Tongues, and Distrust from our Hearts, sets us above the mean Policy of Court-Prudence; which makes us lie to one an­other all Day, for fear of being Betray'd by each other at Night. And (before God) I believe the errantest Villain breath­ing, is honest as long as that Bottle lives, and few of that Tribe dare venture upon him, at least, among the Courtiers and Statesmen. I have seriously consider'd one thing, That the three Businesses of this Age, Women, Politicks, and Drinking, the last is the only Exercise at which you and I have not prov'd our selves errant Fumblers: If you have the Vanity to think otherwise; when we meet, let us appeal to Friends of both Sexes, and as they shall determine, live and die their Drunkards, or entire Lovers. For, as we mince the Matter, it is hard to say which is the most tiresome Creature, Loving Drunkard, or the Drunken Lover.

If you ventur'd Your fat Buttock a Gal­lop to Portsmouth, I doubt not but thro' extream Galling, you now lie Bed-rid of the Piles, or Fistula in Ano, and have the leisure to write to your Country Acquain­tance; [Page 28]which if you omit, I shall take the Liberty to conclude you very Proud. Such a Letter shou'd be directed to me at Adderbury, near Banbury, where I intend to be within these three Days. From

Your obedient humble Servant, Rochester.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

Dear SAVILE,

WHether Love, or the Politicks have the greater Interest in your Jour­ney to France, because it is argu'd a­mong wiser Men, I will not conclude upon; but hoping so much from your Friendship, that, without reserve, you will trust me with the time of your stay in Paris; I have writ this to assure you, if it can continue a Month, I will not fail to wait on you there. My Resolu­tions are to improve this Winter, for the Improvement of my Parts in Foreign Countries; and if the Temptation of see­ing you, be added to the Desies I have already, the Sin is so sweet, that I am re­solv'd to embrace it, and leave out of my Prayers, Libera nos a malo— For thine is, &c.

ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

'TIS not the Least of my Hap­piness, that I think you love me; but the First of all my Pretensions is to make it appear, that I faithfully endeavour to deserve it. If there be a Real good upon Earth, 'tis in the Name of FRIEND, without which all others are meer fantastical. How few of us are fit stuff to make that thing, we have daily the melancholly Experience.

However, dear Harry! Let us not give out, nor despair of bringing that about, which, as it is the most difficult, and rare Accident of Life, is also the best; nay, (perhaps) the only good one. This Thought has so entirely possess'd me since I came into the Country, [Page 31](where, only, one can think; for, you at Court think not at all; or, at least, as if you were shut up in a Drum; as you think of nothing, but the Noise that is made about you) that I have made many Serious Reflecti­ons upon it, and, amongst others, ga­ther'd one Maxime, which I desire, shou'd be communicated to our Friend Mr. G—; That, We are bound in Mo­rality and common Honesty, to endea­vour after Competent Riches; since it is certain, that few Men, if any, uneasie in their Fortunes, have prov'd firm and clear in their Friendships. A ve­ry poor Fellow, is a very poor Friend; and not one of a thousand can be good natur'd to another, who is not pleas'd within himself. But while I grow in­to Proverbs, I forget that you may impute my Philosophy to the Dog-days, and living alone. To prevent the In­conveniences of Solitude, and many o­thers, I intend to go to the Bath on Sunday next, in Visitation to my Lord Treasurer. Be so Politick, or be so Kind, (or a little of both, which is better) as to step down thither, if [Page 32]famous Affairs at Windsor, do not detain you. Dear Harry, I am

Your Hearty, Faithful, Affectionate, Humble Servant, ROCHESTER.

If you see the Dutchess of P— ve­ry often, take some opportunity to talk to her about what I spoke to you at Lon­don.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

Dear SAVILE,

IF it were the Sign of an honest Man, to be happy in his Friends, sure I were mark'd out for the worst of Men; since no one ne'er lost so many as I have done, or knew to make so few. The Severity you say the Dutchess of P— shews to me, is a proof, that 'tis not in my power to deserve well of Any-body; since (I call Truth to witness) I have never been guilty of an Errour, that I know, to her: And this may be a Warn­ing to you, that remain in the Mistake of being kind to me, never to expect a grateful Return; since I am▪ so utterly ignorant how to make it: To value you in my Thoughts, to prefer you in my Wishes, to serve you in my Words; to observe, study, and to obey you in all my Actions, is too little; since I have per­formed all this to her, without so much [Page 34]as an Offensive Accident. And yet she thinks it just, to use me ill. If I were not malicious enough to hope she were in the wrong, I must have a very melan­cholly Opinion of my self. I wish your Interest might prevail with her, as a Friend of her's, not mine, to tell how I have deserv'd it of her, since she has ne'er accus'd me of any Crime, but of being Cunning; and I told her, Some­body had been Cunninger than I, to per­swade her so. I can as well support the Hatred of the whole World, as Any­body, not being generally fond of it. Those whom I have oblig'd, may use me with Ingratitude, and not afflict me much: But to be injur'd by those who have oblig'd me, and to whose Service I am ever bound; is such a Curse, as I can only wish on them who wrong me to the Dutchess.

I hope you have not forgot what Gy and you have promis'd me; but within some time you will come and fetch me to London: I shall scarce think of coming, till you call me, as not ha­ving many prevalent Motives to draw me to the Court, if it be so that my Ma­ster [Page 35]has no need of my Service, nor my Friends of my Company.

Mr. Shepheard is a Man of a fluent Stile, and coherent Thought; if, as I suspect, he writ your Postscript.

I wish my Lord Hallifax Joy of every Thing, and of his Daughter to boot.

Rochester.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

YOU, who have known me these ten Years the Grievance of all prudent Persons, the By-word of Statesmen, the Scorn of ugly Ladies, which are very near All, and the irrecon­cilable Aversion of fine Gentlemen, who are the Ornamental Part of a Nation, and yet found me seldom sad, even un­der these weighty Oppressions; can you think that the loving of lean Arms, small Legs, red Eyes and Nose, (if you will consider that trifle too) can have the power to depress the Natural Alacrity of my careless Soul; especially upon re­ceiving a fine Letter from Mr. Savile, which never wants Wit, and Good­nature; two Qualities able to transport my Heart with Joy, tho' it were break­ing? I wonder at M—'s flaunting it in Court with such fine Clothes; sure he is an alter'd Person since I saw him; [Page 37]for, since I can remember, neither his own self, nor any belonging to him, were ever out of Rags: His Page alone was well cloath'd of all his Family, and that but in appearance: for, of late he has made no more of wearing Second-hand Cts, than Second-hand Shooes; tho' I must confess, to his Honour, he chang'd 'em oftner. I wish the King were so­berly advis'd about a main Advantage in this Marriage, which may possibly be omitted; I mean, the ridding his King­dom of some old Beauties, and young Deformities, who swarm, and are a Grievance to his Liege People. A Fo­reign Prince ought to behave himself like a Kite, who is allow'd to take one Royal Chick for his Reward; but then 'tis expected, before he leaves the Coun­try, his Flock shall clear the whole Pa­rish of all the Garbage and Carrion many Miles about. The King had never such an Opportunity; for the Dutch are very foul Feeders, and what they leave he must never hope to be rid of unless he set up an Intrigue with the Tartars or Cossacks. For the Libel you speak of, upon that most unwitty Generation, the present Poets, I rejoyce in it with all my Heart, [Page 38]and shall take it for a Favour, if you will send me a Copy. He cannot want Wit utterly, that has a Spleen to those Rogues, tho' never so dully express'd. And, now dear Mr. Savile, forgive me, if I do not wind up my self with an hand­som Period.

ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

Dear SAVILE,

THo' I am almost Blind, utterly Lame, and scarce within the rea­sonable hopes of ever seeing London again, I am not yet so wholly mortified and dead to the taste of all Hap­piness, not to be extreamly reviv'd at the receipt of a kind Letter from an Old Friend, who in all probability might have laid me aside in his Thoughts, if not quite forgot me by this time. I ever thought you an extraordinary Man, and must now think you such a Friend, who, be­ing a Courtier, as you are, can love a Man, whom it is the great Mode to hate. Catch Sir G. H. or Sir Carr, at such an ill-bred Proceeding, and I am mistaken: For the hideous Deportment, which you have heard of, concerning running naked, so much is true, that [Page 40]we went into the River somewhat late in the Year, and had a Frisk for forty Yards in the Meadow, to dry our selves. I will appeal to the King and the Duke, if they had not done as much; nay, my Lord Chancellor, and the Archbishops both, when they were School-boys? And, at these Years, I have heard the one Declai­med like Cicero, the others Preached like St. Austin: Prudenter Persons, I conclude, they were, ev'n in Hanging-sleeves, than any of the flashy Fry, (of which I must own my self the most unsolid) can hope to appear, ev'n in their ripest Man­hood.

And now, (Mr. Savile) since you are pleas'd to quote your self for a grave Man of the number of the Scandalizd, be pleas'd to call to Mind the Year 1676, when two large fat Nudities led the Coranto round Rosamond's fair Foun­tain, while the poor violated Nymph wept to behold the strange Decay of Manly Parts, since the Days of her dear Harry the Second: P— ('tis confess'd) you shew'd but little of; but for A—and B—, (a fil­thier [Page 41] Ostentation! God wot) you ex­pos'd more of that Nastiness in your two Folio Volumes, than we altogether in our six Quarto's. Pluck therefore the Beam out of thine own Eye, &c. And now 'tis time to thank you for your kind inviting me to London, to make Dutch-men merry; a thing I would a­void, like, killing Punaises, the filthy Savour of Dutch-mirth being more ter­rible. If GOD, in Mercy, has made 'em hush and melancholly, do not you rouze their sleeping Mirth, to make the Town mourn; the Prince of O­range is exalted above 'em, and I cou'd wish my self in Town to serve him in some refind Pleasures; which, I fear, you are too much a Dutch-man to think of.

The best present I can make at this time is the Bearer, whom I beg you to take care of, that the King may hear his Tunes, when he is easie and pri­vate; because I am sure they will di­vert him extreamly: And may he ever have Harmony in his Mind, as this Fel­low will pour it into his Ears: May [Page 42]he dream pleasantly, wake joyfully, love safely, and tenderly, live long and happily; ever pray (Dear Savile) Ʋn-Bougre lassé qui era toute sa foutue reste de Vie,

Vostre fidel Amy & tres humble Serviteur, ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

THAT Night I receiv'd by Yours the surprizing Account of my Lady Dutchess's more than ordinary In­dignation against me, I was newly brought in▪ dead of a Fall from my Horse, of which I still remain Bruis'd and Bed-rid, and can now scarce think it a Happiness that I sav'd my Neck. What ill Star reigns over me, that I'm still mark'd out for Ingratitude, and only us'd barbarously to those I am obligd to! Had I been troublesom to her in pinning the Dependance of my Fortune upon her Solicitations to the King, or her Unme­rited Recommendations of me to some Great Man, it would not have mov'd my Wonder much, if she had sought any Occasion to be rid of a useless Trouble: But, a Creature, who had already re­ceivd of her all the Obligations he ever could pretend to, except the continuance [Page 44]of her good Opinion, for the which he resolv'd, and did direct every step of his Life in Duty and Service to her, and all who were concern'd in her; why should she take the Advantage of a false idle Story, to hate such a Man; as if it were an Inconveniency to her to be harmless, or a Pain to continue just? By that God that made me, I have no more offended her in Thought, Word, or Deed, no more imagin'd or utter'd the least Thought to her Contempt or Prejudice, than I have plotted Treason, conceal'd Arms, Train'd Regiments for a Rebellion. If there be upon Earth a Man of Common Honesty, who will justifie a Tittle of her Accusa­tion, I am contented never to see her. After this, she need not forbid me to come to her, I have little Pride or Pleasure in shewing my self where I am accus'd of a Meanness I were not capable of, even for her Service, which would prove a shrewder Tryal of my Honesty, than any Ambition I ever had to make my Court to. I thought the Dutchess of P— more an Angel than I find her a Woman; and as this is the first, it shall be the most malicious thing I will ever say of her. For her generous Resolution of not hurt­ing [Page 45]me to the King, I thank her; but she must think a Man much oblig'd, af­ter the calling of him Knave, to say she will do him no farther Prejudice. For the Countess of P—, whatever she has heard me say, or any body else, of her, I'll stand the Test of any Impartial Judge, 'twas neither injurious nor un­mannerly; and how severe soever she pleases to be, I have always been her humble Servant, and will continue so. I do not know how to assure my self the D. will spare me to the King, who would not to you ; I'm sure she can't say I ever injur'd you to her; nor am I at all afraid she can hurt me with you; I dare swear you don't think I have dealt so indis­creetly in my Service to her, as to doubt me in the Friendship I prosess to you. And, to shew you I rely upon yours, let me beg of you to talk once more with her, and desire her to give me the fair hearing she wou'd afford any Footman of hers, who had been complain'd of to her by a less-worthy Creature, (for such a one, I assure my self, my Accuser is) un­less it be for her Service, to wrong the most faithful of her Servants; and then I shall be proud of mine. I would not be [Page 46]run down by a Company of Rogues, and this looks like an Endeavour towards it: Therefore, Dear Harry, send me word, how I am with other Folks; if you visit my Lord Treasurer, name the Calamity of this matter to him, and tell me sin­cerely how he takes it: and, if you hear the King mention me, do the Office of a Friend, to

Your humble Servant, ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

Dear SAVILE,

THE Lousiness of Affairs in this Place, is such (forgive the un­mannerly Phrase! Expressions mult de­scend to the Nature of things express'd) 'tis not fit to entertain a private Gentle­man, much less one of a publick Chara­cter with the Retail of them; the general Heads, under which this whole Island may be consider'd, are Spies, Beggars and Rebels, the Transpositions and mixtures of these, make an agreeable Variety; Busie Fools, and Cautious Knaves are bred out of them, and set off wonderfully; tho' of this latter sort, we have fewer now than ever, Hypocrisie being the only Vice in decay amongst us, few Men here dis­semble their being Rascals; and no Wo­man disowns being a Whore. Mr. O— was try'd two Days ago for Buggery, and clear'd: The next Day he brought [Page 48]his Action to the Kings-Bench, against his Accuser, being attended by the Earl of Shaftsbury, and other Peers, to the num­ber of Seven, for the Honour of the Pro­testant Cause. I have sent you here with a Libel, in which my own share is not the least; the King having perus'd it, is no ways dissatisfied with his: The Au­thor is apparent Mr.—, his Patron my L— having a Panegyrick in the midst; upon which happen'd a hand­som Quarrel between his L—, and Mrs. B— at the Dutchess of P—; she call'd him, The Heroe of the Libel, and complimented him upon having made more Cuckolds, than any Man alive; to which he answer'd, She very well knew one he never made, nor never car'd to be imploy'd in making.— Rogue and Bitch ensued, till the King, taking his Grand-father's Character upon him, became the Peace-maker. I will not trouble you any longer, but beg you still to Love

Your faithful, humble Servant, ROCHESTER.

TO THE Honourable HENRY SAVILE.

HARRY,

YOU are the Only Man of Eng­land, that keep Wit with your Wisdom; and I am happy in a Friend that excels in both; were your Good-nature the least of your Good Qua­lities, I durst not presume upon it, as I have done; but I know you are so sin­cerely concern'd in serving your Friends truly, that I need not make an Apology for the trouble I have given you in this Affair.

I daily expect more considerable Ef­fects of your Friendship, and have the Vanity to think, I shall be the better for your growing poorer.

In the mean time, when you please to distinguish from Prosers and Wind­ham, and comply with Rosers and Bull, [Page 50]not forgetting John Stevens, you shall find me

Your most Ready and most Obedient Servant, ROCHESTER.
The End of the late Earl of Rochester 's Letters.

THE E. of L— 's LETTER To the Honourable ALGERNOON SIDNEY.

DIsuse of Writing has made it un­easie to me, Age makes it hard, and the Weakness of Sight and Hand, makes it almost impossible. This may excuse me to Every-body, and parti­cularly to You, who have not invited me much unto it, but rather have given me cause to think, that you were willing to save me the labour of Writing, and your self the trouble of Reading my Letters: For, after you had left me sick, solitary and sad, at Penshurst, and that you had resolved to undertake the Employment wherein you have lately been, you nei­ther came to give me a Farewel, nor did so much as send one to me, but only writ a wrangling Letter or two concern­ing [Page 52]Mony, and Hoskins, and Sir Robert Honywood's Horse; and tho' both before and after your going out of England, you writ to divers other Persons, the first Letter that I received from you, was dated, as I remember, the 13th of Se­ptember; the second in November, wherein you take notice of your Mother's Death; and if there were one more, that was all, until Mr. Sterry came, who made such haste from Penshurst, that coming very late at Night, he would not stay to Dine the next Day, nor to give me time to Write. It is true, that since the Change of Affairs here, and of your Condition there, your Letters have been more fre­quent; and if I had not thought my Si­lence better both for you and my self, I would have written more than once or twice unto you; but tho', for some Rea­sons, I did forbear, I failed not to de­sire others to write unto you, and with their own, to convey the best Advice that my little Intelligence, and weak Judgment could afford; particularly not to expect New Authorities nor Orders from hence, not to stay in any of the places of your Negotiation, not to come into England, much less to expect a Ship to be sent for you; [Page 53]or to think, that an Account was, or wou'd be expected of you here, unless it were of Matters very different from your Trans­actions there; that it wou'd be best for you presently to divest your self of the Chara­cter of a Publick Minister, to dismiss all your Train, and to retire into some safe place, not very near, nor very far from Eng­land, that you might hear from your Friends sometimes. And for this I advis'd Ham­burgh, where I hear you are, by your Man Powel, or by them that have receiv'd Letters from you, with Presents of Wine and Fish, which I do not reproach nor envy.

Your last Letter to me had no Date of Time or Place; but by another at the same time to Sir John Temple, of the 28th of July, as I remember, sent by Mr. Mis­sonden, I guess that mine was of the same Date: By those that I have had, I per­ceive that you have been misadvertiz'd; for tho' I met with no Effects, nor Marks of Displeasure, yet I find no such Tokens or Fruits of Favour, as may give me ei­ther Power or Credit for those Ʋnderta­kings and Good Offices, which, perhaps you expect of me.

And now I am again upon the Point of retiring to my poor Habitation, ha­ving for my self no other Design, than to pass the small remainder of my Days in­nocently and quietly; and if it please GOD, to be gathered in Peace to my Fathers. And concerning you, what to resolve in my self, or what to advise you, truly I know not: For you must give me leave to remember of how little Weight my Opinions and Counsels have been with you, and how unkindly and unfriend­ly you have rejected those Exhortations and Admonitions, which in much Affe­ction and Kindness I have given you up­on many Occasions, and in almost every thing, from the highest to the lowest, that hath concern'd you; and this you may think sufficient to discourage me from putting my Advices into the like Danger: Yet, somewhat I will say: And, First, I think it unfit, and (perhaps) as yet, unsafe for you to come into England; for, I believe, Powel hath told you, that he heard, when he was here, That you were likely to be excepted out of the General Act of Pardon and Oblivion: And tho' I know not what you have done, or said here or there, yet I have several ways [Page 55]heard, That there is as ill an Opinion of you, as of any, even of those that con­demned the late King: And when I thought there was no other Exception to you, than your being of the other Party, I spoke to the General in your behalf, who told me, That very ill Offi­ces had been done you, but he would assist you as much as justly he could; and I intended then also to speak to Some­body else; you may guess whom I mean: But since that, I have heard such things of you, that in the doubtfulness only of their being true, no Man will open his Mouth for you. I will tell you some Passages, and you shall do well to clear your self of them. It is said, That the University of Copenhagen brought their Album unto you, desiring you to write something therein, and that you did scri­bere in albo these Words,

Manus haec inimica Tyrannis,
Ense petit placida cum Libertate quie­tem:

And put your Name to it. This can­not chuse but be publickly known, if it be true. It is said also, That a Minister, [Page 56]who hath married a Lady Laurence here of Chelsey, but now dwelling at Copen­hagen, being there in Company with you, said, I think you were none of the late King's Judges, nor guilty of his Death, meaning our King. Guilty! said you; Do you call that Guilt? Why, 'twas the justest and bravest Action that ever was done in England, or any where else; with other Words to the same effect. It is said also, That you having heard of a Design to seize upon you, or to cause you to be taken Prisoner, you took notice of it to the King of Denmark himself, and said, I hear there is a Design to seize upon me: But who is it that hath that Design? Estce nostre Bandit. By which you are un­derstood to mean the King.

Besides this, it is reported, That you have been heard to say many scornful and contemptuous things of the King's Person and Family; which unless you can justifie your self, will hardly be for­given or forgotten: For, such Personal Offences make deeper Impressions than Publick Actions either of War or Treaty. Here is a Resident, as he calls himself, of the King of Denmark, whose Name (as I [Page 57]hear) is Pedcombe; he hath visited me, and offered his readiness to give you any Assistance in his Power or Credit with the Embassadour, Mr. Alfield, who was then expected, and is now arrived here, and hath had his first Audience. I have not seen Mr. Pedcombe since; but, within a few Days, I will put him in Mind of his Profession of Friendship to you, and try what he can or will do. Sir Robert Honywood is also come hither; and, as I hear, the King is graciously pleased to admit him to his Presence, which will be somewhat the better for you, because then the Exceptions against your Em­ployment and Negotiation, wherein you were Colleague, will be remov'd, and you will have no more to answer for, than your own particular Behaviour. I believe Sir Robert Honywood will be in­dustrious enough to procure Satisfaction to the Merchants in the Business of Mony, wherein he will have the Assistance of Sir John Temple; to whom I refer you, for that, and some other things.

I have little to say to your Complaints of your Sister Strayford's unequal Re­turns to your Affection and Kindness, [Page 58]but that I am sorry for it, and that you are well enough serv'd, for bestowing so much of your Care where it was not due, and neglecting them to whom it was due, and I hope you will be wiser here­after. She and her Husband have not yet paid the Thousand Pounds, whereof you are to have your part, by my Gift; for so, I think, you are to understand it, tho' your Mother desired it; and if for the Payment thereof, your being in Eng­land, or in some Place not far off, be ne­cessary, as some pretend, for the Sealing of some Writings, I think that, and other Reasons, sufficient to perswade you to stay a while where you are, that you may hear frequently from your Friends, and they from you. I am wholly against your going into Italy as yet, till more may be known of your Condition; which, for the present, is hard; and, I confess, that I do not yet see any more man this, that either you must live in Exile, or very privately here; and (perhaps) not safely; for tho' the Bill of Indemnity be lately passed, yet if there be any particular and great Displeasure against you, as I fear there is, you may feel the Effects there­of from the Higher Powers, and receive [Page 59]Affronts from the Inferiour: Therefore you were best to stay at Hamburgh, which, for a Northern Scituation, is a good place, and healthful. I will help you as much as I can in discovering and informing you of what concerns you; tho', as I began, so I must end, with tell­ing you, That Writing is now grown troublesome to

Your Affectionate Le—

The Honourable Algernoon Sidney's LETTER, Against BRIBERY, AND ARBITRARY GOVERNMENT.
Written to his Friends, in Answer to Theirs, perswading his Return to England.

SIR,

I Am sorry I cannot in all things con­form my self to the Advices of my Friends▪ if theirs had any joint-concernment with mine, I would will­ingly submit my Interest to theirs; but [Page 61]when I alone am interested, and they only advise me to come over as soon as the Act of Indemnity is pass'd, because they think it is best for me, I cannot wholly lay aside my own Judgment and Choice. I confess, we are naturally in­clin'd to delight in our own Country, and I have a particular Love to mine; I hope I have given some Testimony of it; I think that being exil'd from it is a great Evil, and would redeem my self from it with the loss of a great deal of my Blood: But when that Country of mine, which us'd to be esteem'd a Paradise, is now like to be made a Stage of Injury, the Liberty which we hoped to establish oppress'd, all manner of Prophaneness, Looseness, Luxury, and Lewdness set up in its heighth; instead of Piety, Vir­tue, Sobriety, and Modesty, which we hoped GOD, by our Hands, would have introduc'd; the Best of our Nation made a Prey to the Worst; the Parlia­ment, Court, and Army corrupted, the People enslav'd, all things Vendible, and no Man safe, but by such evil and infa­mous means as Flattery and Bribery; what Joy can I have in my own Coun­try in this Condition? Is it a Pleasure [Page 62]to see all that I love in the World, sold and destroy'd? Shall I renounce all my old Principles, learn the vile Court-arts, and make my Peace by bribing some of them? Shall their Corruption and Vice be my Safety? Ah! no; better is a Life among Strangers, than in my own Country upon such Conditions. Whil'st I live I will endeavour to preserve my Liberty; or, at least, not consent to the destroying of it. I hope I shall die in the same Principle in which I have lived, and will live no longer than they can preserve me. I have in my Life been guilty of many Follies, but, as I think of no meanness, I will not blot and defile that which is past, by endeavouring to provide for the future. I have ever had in my Mind, that when God should cast me into such a Condition, as that I can­not save my Life, but by doing an inde­cent thing, He shews me the time is come wherein I should resign it. And when I cannot live in my own Country, but by such means as are worse than dy­ing in it, I think He shews me, I ought to keep my self out of it. Let them please themselves with making the King glorious, who think a Whole People may justly be [Page 63]sacrific'd for the Interest and Pleasure of One Man, and a few of his Followers: Let them rejoyce in their Subtilty, who by be­traying the former Powers, have gain'd the Favour of this, not only preserv'd, but advanc'd themselves in these dangerous Changes. Nevertheless (perhaps) they may find the King's Glory is their Shame, his Plenty the Peoples Misery; and that the gaining of an Office, or a little Mony, is a poor Reward for destroying a Na­tion! (which if it were preserv'd in Li­berty and Vertue, would truly be the most glorious in the World) and that others may find they have, with much Pains, purchas'd their own Shame and Misery, a dear Price paid for that which is not worth keeping, nor the Life that is accompanied with it: the Honour of English Parliaments have ever been in making the Nation Glorious and Happy, not in selling and destroying the Interest of it, to satifie the Lusts of one Man. Miserable Nation! that, from so great a heighth of Glory, is fallen into the most despicable Condition in the World, of having all its Good depending upon the Breath and Will of the vilest Persons in it! cheated and sold by them they trust­ed! [Page 64]Infamous Traffick, equal almost in Guilt to that of Judas! In all preceding Ages, Parliaments have been the Pillars of our Liberty, the sure Defenders of the Oppressed: They, who formerly could bridle Kings, and keep the Ballance e­qual between them and the People, are now become the Instruments of all our Oppressions, and a Sword in his Hand to destroy us: They themselves, led by a few interested Persons, who are willing to buy Offices for themselves by the Mise­ry of the whole Nation, and the Blood of the most Worthy and Eminent Persons in it. Detestable Bribes, worse than the Oaths now in fashion in this Mercenary Court! I mean to owe neither my Life nor Liberty to any such Means; when the innocence of my Actions will not pro­tect me, I will stay away till the Storm be overpass'd. In short, where Vane, Lambert and Haslerigg cannot live in Safe­ty, I cannot live at all. If I had been in England, I should have expected a Lodg­ing with them: or, tho' they may be the first, as being more eminent than I, I must expect to follow their Example, in Suffering, as I have been their Compani­on in Acting. I am most in Amaze at the [Page 65]mistaken Informations that were sent to me by my Friends, full of Expectations, of Favours, and Employments. Who can think, that they, who imprison them, would employ me, or suffer me to live, when they are put to death? If I might live, and be employ'd, can it be expected that I should serve a Government that seeks such detestable Ways of Establish­ing it self? Ah! no; I have not learnt to make my own Peace, by persecuting and betraying my Brethren, more inno­cent and worthy than my self: I must live by just Means, and serve to just Ends, or not at all, after such a Manifestation of the Ways by which it is intended the King shall govern. I should have re­nounced any Place of Favour into which the Kindness and Industry of my Friends might have advanc'd me, when I found those that were better than I, were only fit to be destroy'd. I had formerly some Jealousies, the fraudulent Proclamation for Indemnity, increased the Imprison­ment of those three Men; and turning out of all the Officers of the Army, contrary to Promise, confirm'd me in my Resolu­tions, not to return.

To conclude: The Tide is not to be diverted, nor the Oppressd deliverd; but God, in his time, will have Mercy on His People; he will save and defend them, and avenge the Blood of those who shall now perish, upon the Heads of those, who, in their Pride, think nothing is able to oppose them. Happy are those whom God shall make Instruments of his Justice in so Blessed a Work. If I can live to see that Day, I shall be ripe for the Grave, and able to say with Joy, Lord! Now let­test thou thy Servant depart in Peace, &c. [So Sir Arthur Haslerigg on Oliver's Death.] Farewel my Thoughts, as to King and State, depending upon their Actions. No Man shall be a more faith­ful Servant to him than I, if he make the Good and Prosperity of his People his Glo­ry; none more his Enemy, if he doth the contrary. To my particular Friends I shall be constant in all Occasions, and to You

A most affectionate Servant, A. SIDNEY.

To Madam—

I Have News to tell You: You got a new Subject Yesterday; tho, after all, (perhaps) it is no more News to You, than it would be to the Grand Seignior, or the French King: For You (Madam) either find or make Subjects where-ever You go. It is impossible to see You, without surrendring ones Heart to You; and he that hears You talk, and can still preserve his Liberty, may (for ought I know) revive the Miracle of the Three Children in Daniel, and call for a Chamlet Cloak to keep him warm in the midst of a Fiery Furnace. But really (Madam) I am none of those Miracle­mongers; I am true Flesh and Blood, like the rest of my Sex; and, as I make no Scruple to own my Passion to You, so You (Madam) without incurring the Danger of being questiond by the Par­liament, may pretend to all the Rights and Priviledges of a Conqueror. My Comfort is, that all Mankind, sooner or [Page 68]later, must wear you Chains; for You have Beauty enough to engage the nicest Heart, tho You had no Wit to set it off: And You have so plentiful a share of the last, that were You wholly destitute of the former, as I have already found to my Cost, You have but too much, You could not fail of harming the most Insen­sible. For my own part, I confess my self an Admirer, or, if You please, an Ado­rer of Your Beauty: But I am a Slave, a meer downright effectual Slave to Your Wit. Your very Conversation is infinitely more delicious than the Fruition of any other Woman.

Thus, my Charming Sovereign, I here profess my self You devoted Vassal and Subject. I promise You eternal Duty and Allegiance: It is neither in my Power nor Will to depose You; and I am sure it is not in Your Nature to affect Arbi­trary Sway. Tho if you do, (Madam) God knows, I am a true Church of Eng­land-man; I shall never rebel against you in Act or Thought, but only have re­course to Prayers and Tears, and still stick to my Passive Obedience. Perhaps, Madam, youll tell me, I have talked [Page 69]more than comes to my share; but being Incognito, I assume the Liberty of a Mas­querader; and, under that Protection, think my self safe. But, alas, did You know how I languish for You, I dare swear (my Charming Sylvia!) You would be­stow some Pity upon

AMYNTAS.

To Madam—

I Have never had the Happiness of Your conversation but once, and then I found You so very charming, that I have wore Your lovely Idea ever since in my Mind. But it is not without the least Astonishment, that I receiv'd the News of what befel You tother Day; it still makes me tremble, and leaves a dis­mal Impression behind it, not easie to be imagin'd. For Heaven's sake, Madam, what could urge You to so cruel a Reso­lution, that might have prov'd irrepa­rably fatal to Your self, and matter of per­petual Affliction to Your Friends? What Harm have I, and a Thousand more of Your Adorers done You, that You should so terribly revenge the supposed Infide­lity of another upon them? Or, Why should You, whom Beauty and Wit have put in a Capacity to subdue our whole Sex, lay to Heart the Ʋnkindness of one Lover, who may proceed to a new Ele­ction when You please? If I had Vanity [Page 71]enough to aspire to be Your Privy-Coun­sellor, I wou'd e'en advise You to bury the Remembrance of what is past, and either to punish all Mankind, as You ea­sily may, tho I need not instruct. You how; or else to chuse some happy Favou­rite out of the Throng of Your Servants, and shower Your Favours upon him. If Sincerity and Truth may bid for the Pur­chase of Your Heart, I can help You to one that thoroughly understands Your Worth, and accordingly values it; that would be damn'd before he would aban­don You for the greatest Princess in the Ʋniverse; that would chearfully die for Your sake, and yet only lives out of Hopes, that he may one Day merit Your Esteem by his Services. I fancy, Madam, You now demand of me, where this strange Monster of Fidelity is to be sound? Know then, that he lives within less than a hundred Miles of Red-Lyon-Square; and that his Name is, (Oh! par­don the Insolence of this Discovery) his Name is

AMYNTAS.
[Page 72]

There is another Letter that accom­panies this, and was written a Week ago; which I had not Courage enough to lay at Your Feet till now.

LOVE-LETTERS, BY Mr. THOMAS OTWAY.

To Madam—

My TYRANT!

I Endure too much Torment to be si­lent, and have endur'd it too long not to make the severest Complaint. I love You, I dote on You; Desire makes me mad, when I am near You; and De­spair, when I am from You. Sure, of all Miseries, Love is to me the most intole­rable: it haunts me in my Sleep, perplexes me when waking; every melancholly Thought makes my Fears more power­ful; and every delightful one makes my Wishes more unruly. In all other uneasy Chances of a Mans Life, there is an im­mediate [Page 74] Recourse to some kind of Suc­cour or another: In Wants, we apply our selves to out Friends; in Sickness, to Phy­sicians: but Love, the Sum, the Total of all Misfortunes, must be endurd with Si­lence; no Friend so dear to trust with such a Secret, nor Remedy in Art so power­ful, to remove its Anguish. Since the first Day I saw You, I have hardly en­joy'd one Hour of perfect Quiet: I lov'd You early; and no sooner had I beheld that soft bewitching Face of Yours, but I felt in my Heart the very Foundation of all my Peace give way: But when You became anothers, I must confess, that I did then rebel, had foolish Pride enough to promise my self, I would in time re­cover my Liberty: In spight of my en­slav'd Nature, I swore against my self, I would not love You: I affected a Re­sentment, stifled my Spirit, and would not let it bend, so much as once to up­braid You, each Day it was my chance to see or to be near You: With stubborn Sufferance, I resolv'd to bear, and brave your Power: nay, did it often too, suc­cessfully. Generally with Wine, or Conver­sation I diverted or appeas'd the Daemon that possess'd me; but when at Night, [Page 75]returning to my unhappy Self, to give my Heart an Account why I had done it so unnatural a Violence, it was then I always paid a treble Interest for the short Moments of Ease, which I had bor­row'd; then every treacherous Thought rose up, and took Your part, nor left me till they had thrown me on my Bed, and open'd those Sluces of Tears, that were to run rill Morning. This has been for some Years my best Condition: Nay, Time it self, that decays all things else, has but encreas'd, and added to my Long­ings. I tell it You, and charge You to believe it, as You are generous, (which sure You must be, for every thing, except Your Neglect of me, perswades me that You are so) even at this time, tho' other Arms have held You, and so long tres­pass'd on those dear Joys that only were my Due; I love You with that Tender­ness of Spirit, that Purity of Truth, and that Sincerity of Heart, that I could sa­crifice the nearest Friends, or Interests I have on Earth, barely but to please You: If I had all the World, it should be Yours; for with it I could be but miserable, if You were not mine. I appeal to Your self for Justice, if through the whole Acti­ons [Page 76]of my Life, I have done any one thing that might not let You see how ab­solute your Authority was over me. Your Commands have been always sacred to me; Your Smiles have always transport­ed me, and Your Frowns awd me. In short, You will quickly become to me the greatest Blessing, or the greatest Curse, that ever Man was doom'd to. I cannot so much as look on You without Confusion; Wishes and Fears rise up in war within me, and work a curs'd Distraction through my Soul, that must, I am sure, in time have wretched Consequences: You only can, with that Healing-Cordial, Love, asswage and calm my Torments; pity the Man then that would be proud to die for You, and cannot live without You, and allow him thus far to boast too, that (take out Fortune from the Balance) You never were belov'd or courted by a Creature that had a nobler or juster Pretence to Your Heart, than the Unfortunate, and (even at this time) Weeping

OTWAY.

To Madam—

IN Value of Your Quiet, tho' it would be the utter Ruine of my own, I have endeavoured this Day to per­swade my self never more to trouble you with a Passion that has tormented me sufficiently already, and is so much the more a Torment to me, in that I perceive it is become one to You, who are much dearer to me than my self. I have laid all the Reasons my distracted Condition would let me have recourse to, before me: I have consulted my Pride, whether after a Rival's Possession, I ought to ruine all my Peace for a Woman that another has been more blest in, tho' no Man ever loved as I did: But Love, Vi­ctorious Love! o'erthrows all that, and tells me, it is his Nature never to remem­ber; he still looks forward from the pre­sent Hour, expecting still new Dawns, new rising Happiness, never looks back, never regards what is past, and lest behind him, but buries and forgets it quite in the hot fierce pursuit of Joy before him: I have [Page 78]consulted too my very self, and find how careless Nature was in framing me; sea­soned me hastily with all the most vio­lent Inclinations and Desires, but omitted the Ornaments that should make those Qualities become me: I have consulted too my Lot of Fortune, and find how fool­ishly I wish Possession of what is so pre­cious, all the World's too cheap for it; yet still I love, still I dote on, and cheat my self, very content, because the Folly pleases me. It is Pleasure to think how Fair you are, tho' at the same time worse than Damnation, to think how Cruel: Why should you tell me you have shut your Heart up for ever? It is an Argu­ment unworthy of your self, sounds like Reserve, and not so much Sincerity, as sure I may claim even from a little of your Friendship. Can your Age, your Face, your Eyes, and your Spirit bid de­fiance to that sweet Power? No, you know better to what end Heaven made you, know better how to manage Youth and Pleasure, then to let them die and pall upon your Hands. 'Tis me, 'tis only me you have barr'd your Heart against. My Sufferings, my Diligence, my Sighs, Complaints, and Tears are of no power [Page 79]with your haughty Nature; yet sure you might at least vouchsafe to pity them, not shift me off with gross, thick, home­spun Friendship, the common Coin that passes betwixt Worldly Interests: must that be my Lot! Take it Ill-natur'd, take it; give it to him who would waste his Fortune for you; give it the Man would fill your Lap with Gold; court you with Offers of vast rich Possessions; give it the Fool that hath nothing but his Money to plead for him: Love will have a much nearer Relation, or none. I ask for Glo­rious Happiness; you bid me Welcome to your Friendship, it is like seating me at your Side-table, when I have the best Pretence to your Right-hand at the Feast. I Love, I Doat, I am Mad, and know no measure; nothing but Ex­treams can give me ease; the kindest Love, or most provoking Scorn: Yet even your Scorn would not perform the Cure, it might indeed take off the edge of Hope, but damn'd Despair will gnaw my Heart for ever. If then I am not odious to your Eyes, if you have Charity enough to value the Well-being of a Man that holds you dearer than you can the Child your Bowels are most fond of, by that [Page 80]sweet Pledge of your first softest Love, I charm and here conjure you to pity the distracting Pangs of mine; pity my un­quiet Days, and restless Nights; pity the Frenzy that has half possest my Brain al­ready, and makes me write to you thus ravingly: The Wretch in Bedlam is more at peace than I am! And if I must never possess the Heaven I wish for, my next desire is, (and the sooner the better) a clean-swept Cell, a merciful Keeper, and your Compassion, when you find me there.

‘Think and be Generous.’

To Madam—

SInce you are going to quit the World, I think my self oblig'd, as a Mem­ber of that World, to use the best of my Endeavours to divert you from so ill-na­tur'd an Inclination: Therefore, by rea­son your Visits will take up so much of this Day, I have debarrd my self the op­portunity of waiting on you this after­noon, that I may take a time you are more Mistress of, and when you shall have more leisure to hear, if it be possible for any Arguments of mine to take place in a Heart, I am afraid too much har­den'd against me: I must confess it may look a little extraordinary, for one under my Circumstances, to endeavour the Con­firming your good Opinion of the World, when it had been much better for me, one of us had never seen it: For Nature disposed me from my Creation to Love, and my Ill Fortune has condemn'd me to Doat on one, who certainly could never have been deaf so long to so faithful a Passion, had Nature disposed her from her [Page 82] Creation to hate any thing but me. I beg you to forgive this Trifling, for I have so many Thoughts of this nature, that 'tis impossible for me to take Pen and Ink in my Hand, and keep 'em quiet, especially when I have the least pretence to let you know, you are the cause of the severest Disquiets that ever touch'd the Heart of

OTWAY.

To Madam—

COuld I see you without Passion, or be absent from you without Pain, I need not beg your Pardon for this Re­newing my Vows, that I love you more than Health, or any Happiness here, or hereafter. Every thing you do is a new Charm to me; and tho' I have languish'd for seven long tedious Years of Desire, jealously and despairing; yet every Mi­nute I see you, I still discover something new and more bewitching. Consider how I love you; what would not re­nounce, or enterprize for you? I must have you mine, or I am miserable; and nothing but knowing which shall be the happy Hour, can make the rest of my Life that are to come tolerable. Give me a word or two of Comfort, or resolve ne­ver to look with common Goodness on me more, for I cannot bear a kind Look, and after it a cruel Denial. This Minute my Heart akes for You: and, if I cannot [Page 84]have a Right in Yours, I wish it would ake till I could complain to You no longer.

Remember Poor OTWAY.

To Madam—

YOU cannot but be sensible, that I am blind, or You would not so openly discover what a ridiculous Tool You make of me. I should be glad to discover whose satisfaction I was sa­crific'd to this Morning; for I am sure Your own Ill-Nature could not be guilty of inventing such an Injury to me, meer­ly to try how much I could bear, were it not for the sake of some Ass, that has the Fortune to please You: In short, I have made it the Business of my Life, to do You Service, and please You, if pos­sible, by any way to convince You of the unhappy Love I have for seven Years toil'd under; and Your whole Business is to pick ill-natur'd Conjectures out of my harmless freedom of Conversation, to vex and gall me with, as often as You are pleasd to divert Your self at the ex­pence of my Quiet. Oh, thou Tormentor! Could I think it were Jealousie, how should I humble my self to be justify'd; [Page 86]I cannot bear the thought of being made a Property either of another Man's Good Fortune, or the Vanity of a Woman that designs nothing but to plague me.

There may be Means found sometime or other, to let you know your Mis­taking.

To Madam—

YOU were pleas'd to send me word you would meet me in the Mall this Evening, and give me further. Satisfaction in the Matter you were so unkind to charge me with; I was there, but found you not; and there­fore beg of you, as you ever would wish your self to be eased of the highest Tor­ment it were possible for your Nature to be sensible of, to let me see you some­time to Morrow, and send me word, by this Bearer, where, and at what Hour, you will be so just, as either to acquit or condemn me; that I may, hereafter, for your sake, either bless all your bewitch­ing Sex; or, as often as I henceforth think of you, curse Womankind for ever.

Mr.—to Mr. G

Dear G—,

AS I hope to be sav'd, and that's a bold word in a Morning, when our Consciences, like Children, are al­ways most uneasie; when the Light of Nature flashes upon us with the Light of the Day, and makes way for the calm re­turn of Thought, that eternal Foe to Quiet; but, I thank my Stars, I have shook that Snake out of my Bosom, and made Peace with that Domestick Enemy Conscience, and so much the more dange­rous by being so—

—But, as I was going to say, your Letter has put new Life into me, and re­viv'd me from the Damp, that Solitude and bad Company has flung me into; 'tis as hard to find a Man of Sense here, as a handsom Woman: A company of Coun­try 'Squires round a Table, is like a com­pany of Waiters round a dead Corps, they are always ridiculously sober and grave, or, which is worse, impertinently loud: [Page 89] Wine, that makes the gay Man of the Town brisk and sprightly, only serves to pluck off their Vail of Bashfulness, a Mask that Fools ought always to wear; and which, once off, makes them as nau­seous, as a Bare-fac'd Lady of the Pit; they are as particular in their Stories, as a Lawyer in his Evidence, and husband their Tales, as well as they do their Mo­neys: In short, as Madam Olivia says, they are my Aversion of all Aversions.

You may easily imagine, I have too much of the Men, but on my word, I have too little of the Women: Full of Youth, Vigour and Health, I lye follow; and, like the Vestal Virgins; am damn'd to Coldness and Chastity in the midst of Flames. God knows what hard shifts I use, my Right­hand often does, what (like Acts of Cha­rity) I'm asham'd my Left-hand shou'd know. As much as I despise the Conver­sation of these Fops, I court it out of an ap­prehension of being alone, not daring to trust my self to so dangerous a Compa­nion as my self. 'Tis in these cool Inter­vals of Solitude that we conspire Cuckol­dom against our Friend, Treason against the State, &c. for the Devil of Lust and [Page 90] Ambition, like other Evil Spirits, only ap­pears to us when we are alone.

The talking of the Devil, puts me in Mind of the Parsons: I had the Benefit of the Clergy this Week; I mean the Com­pany of two honest unbigotted Parsons; I drank a Bowl to the Manes of our Im­mortal Friend; one that was as witty as Necessity, and discover'd more Truths, than ever Time did: One that was born to unchain the World, that struggl'd with Mysteries, as Hercules did with Monsters; and, like him too, fell by a Distaff.

After so mournful a Subject, I'gad I'll make you laugh— The Duce take me if I did not, last Week, assist at the Cere­mony of making a Christian; nay, more Sir, I was, Honos sit Auribus, a Godfather, who am

Your Affectionate Friend and Servant, &c.

Mons. BOILEAU's LETTERS, TRANSLATED By THO. CHEEK, Esq
To the Duke DE VIVONE, upon his Entrance into the Haven of Messina.

My LORD,

KNow you not, that one of the su­rest ways to hinder a Man from being pleasant, is, to bid him be so: Since you forbad me being serious, I never found my self so grave, and I speak nothing now but Sentences. And, be­sides, your last Action has something in it so great, that truly it would go against my Conscience to write to you of it [Page 92]otherwise, than in the Heroick Style: However, I cannot resolve, not to obey you, in all, that you command me; so that in the Humour that I find my self, I am equally afraid to tire you with a se­rious Trifle, or to trouble you with an ill Piece of Wit.

In fine, my Apollo has assisted my this Morning, and in the time that I thought the least of it, made me find upon my Pillow, two Letters; which, for want of mine, may (perhaps) give you an agree­able Amusement. They are dated from the Elysian, Fields; the one is from Bal­zac, and the other from Voiture, who be­ing both charm'd with the Relation of your last Fight, write to you from the other World, to congratulate you. This is that from Balzac: You will easily know it be to his by his Style, which can­not express things simply, nor descend from its heighth.

From the Elysian Fields, June the 22d.

My LORD,

THe Report of your Actions, re­vives the Dead; it wakens those, who have slept those thirty Years, and were condemn'd to an eternal Sleep; it makes Silence it self speak The Brave! the Splendid! The Glorious Conquest that you have made over the Enemies of France! You have restored Bread to a City, which has been accustom'd to furnish it to all others: You have nourish'd the Nursing Mo­ther of Italy; the thunder of that Fleet, which shut you up the Avenues of its Port, has done no more than barely sa­luted your Entrance; its Resistance has detained you no longer, than an over civil reception: So far from hindring the Rapidity of your Course, it has not in­terrupted the Order of your March; you have constrain'd, in their their Sight, the South, and North Winds to obey you, without chastizing the Sea, as [Page 94] Xerxes did; you have taught it Disci­pline; you have done yet more, you have made the Spaniard humble. After that, what may not one say of you? No, Nature, I say, Nature, when she was young, and in the time that she pro­duc'd Alexanders and Caesars, has pro­duc'd nothing so great, as under the Reign of Louis the XIV; she has given to the French, in her Declension, that which Rome could not obtain from her in her greatest Maturity. She has made appear to the World, in your Age, both in Body and Soul, that perfect Valour which we have scarce seen the Idea of in Romances, and Heroick Poems. Beging the Pardon of one of your Poets—he had no reason to say, That beyond Co­citus, Merit is no more known: Yours, My LORD, is extoll'd here, by the common Voice, on both sides of Styx. It makes a continual Remembrance of you, even in the Abodes of Forgetful­ness: It finds zealous Partizans in the Country of Indifference. It puts Acheron into the Interests of the Seine. Nay more, there is no Shade amongst us, so prepossest with the Principles of the Porticus, so hardned in the School of [Page 95] Zeno, so fortified against Joy and Grief, that does not hear your Praises with pleasure, that does not clap his Hands, and cry, A Miracle! at the moment you are named; and is not ready to say with your Malherbe,

A la fin c'est trop de Silence,
En si beau suject de parler.

As for me, My LORD, who know you a great deal better, I do nothing but meditate on you in my Repose; I fill my Thoughts intirely with your Idea, in the long Hours of our Leisure, I cry continually, How great a Man is this! And if I wish to live again, 'tis not so much, to return to the Light, as to enjoy the sovereign Felicity of your Conver­sation, and to tell you Face to Face, with how much Respect, I am from the whole extent of my Soul,

My LORD,
Your Lordship's most humble, and most obedient Servant. BALZAC.

I Know not, My LORD, whether these violent Exaggerations will please you; and whether you will not find, that the Style of Balzac is a little corrupted in the other World; however it be, (in my Opinion) he never lavish'd his Hyperboles more to the purpose; 'tis for you to judge of it: But first read, (if you please) the Letter from Voiture.

From the Elysian Fields, June the 22d.

My LORD,

THo' we poor Devils, who are dead, do not concern our selves much in the Affairs of the Liv­ing, and are not exceedingly inclin'd to Mirth: Yet I cannot forbear rejoycing at the Great Things you do over our Heads. Seriously, your last Fight makes the Devil and all of a Noise here below; it has made it self heard in a place, where the very Thunder of Heav'n is not heard; and has made your Glory known in a Country where even the Sun is not known. There are a great many Spa­niards come hither, who were in the Action, and have inform'd us of the Par­ticulars. I see no reason why the People of that Nation shou'd pass for Bullies; for I can assure you they are very civil Persons, and the King sent 'em hither t'other Day very mild and quiet. To tell you the truth, my LORD, you have [Page 98]manag'd your Affairs very well of late. To see with what speed you fly o're the Mediterranean-Sea, wou'd make one think you absolutely Master of it: There is not at present, in all its extent, one single Privateer in safety, and, if you go on at this rate, I can't see how you'd have Tunis and Algiers subsist. We have here the Caesars, the Pompeys, and the Alexanders; they all agree, that you ex­actly follow their Conduct in your way of fighting; But Caesar believes you to be superlatively Caesar. There are none here, ev'n to the Alaricks, the Gense­ricks, the Theodoricks, and all the other Conquerors in icks, who don't speak ve­ry well of this Action; and in Hell it self (I know not whether you are ac­quainted with that Place) there is no Devil, my LORD, who does not con­fess ingeniously, That at the head of an Army, you are a greater Devil than himself: This is a truth that your very Enemies agree in. But to see the good that you have done at Messina, for my part, I believe you are more like an An­gel than a Devil; only Angels have a more airy shape, and do not carry their Arms in a Scarf. Railery a-part, Hell is [Page 99]extreamly byass'd in your, Favour, There is but one thing to be objected to your Conduct, and that is the little Care, that you sometimes take of your Life. You are so well belov'd in this Country, that they don't desire your Company. Believe me, my LORD, I have already said it in the other World, a Demi-god, is but a very little thing when he is dead; he's nothing like what he was, when he was alive. And as for me, who know already by expe­rience, what it is to be no more, I set the best Face on the Matter I can; but to hide nothing from you, I die with Im­patience to return to the World; were it only to have the Pleasure to see you there; in pursuance of this intended Voyage, I have already sent several times to find out the scatter'd Parts of my Body to set 'em together, but I could never recover my Heart, which I left at parting with, those seven Mistresses, that I serv'd (as you know) so faithfully, the whole seven at once. As for my Wit, unless you have it, I am told, 'tis not to be found in the World. To tell you the truth, I shrewdly suspect, that you have at least the Gaiety of it: For I have [Page 100]been told here four or five Sayings of your Turn of Expression, which I wish with all my Heart, I had said; and for which I would willingly give the Pane­gyrick of Pliny, and two of my best Let­ters. Supposing then, that you have it, I beg you to send it me back as soon as possibly you can; for indeed you can't imagine how inconvenient it is, not to have all one's Wit about one, especially when one writes to such a Man as you are; this is the Cause that my Style, at present, is so alter'd: Were it not for that, you shou'd see me merry again, as formerly, with my Comrade Le Bro­chet. And I should not be reduc'd to the necessity of ending my Letter trivially, as I do in telling you, that I am,

My LORD,
Your Lordship's most Humble and Obedient Servant, VOITURE.

These are the two Letters, just as I receiv'd 'em: I send them you writ in my own Hand, because you would have had too much trouble to read the Characters of the other World, if I had sent 'em you in the Original. Do not fancy, my LORD, that this is only a trial of Wit, and an imitation of the Style of these two Writers. You know very well, that Balzac and Voiture are in­imitable. However, were it true, that I had recourse to this Invention to divert you, shou'd I be so much in the wrong of it, or rather ought I not to be esteem'd, for having found Out this way to make you read the Praises, which you wou'd never have suffer'd other ways? In a word, cou'd I better make appear with what Sincerity, and with what Respect I am,

My LORD,
Yours, &c.

A LETTER, Writ by Mr. DENNIS, Sent with the following SPEECH.

SIR,

I Have here sent you inclos'd, what I promis'd you by the last Post, and I think my self oblig'd to give you some account of it. In the late Appendix to the new Observator, I find the Author reasonably complaining of the Corrupti­on of History by the French, and giving [Page 103]a reasonable guess, how false the Hi­story of this Age (as far as it is writ by them) is like to come out in the next. And particularly what Monsieur Pelis­son's History of the present King of France is like to be, which is now writing by that King's own Order. Monsieur Boileau, who writ the enclos'd, has at least as great a share in that History, as Monsieur Pe­lisson: And therefore you have in the en­closed, in the which he has very artfully inserted a Panegyrick of his Prince, a Pat­tern of what his part of the History will be. For having flatter'd his Master in this small Panegyrick, we have all the reason in the World to believe, That he will flatter him too in his History. And that he has flatter'd him here, you will plainly find; not only by Exaggerations, which are in some measure to be allow'd to an Orator; but in affirming things which are directly contrary to the Truth. Such are those two remarkable Passages of the French King's Offering Peace to the late Confederacy, for the general Good of Christendom, (which not so much as a Frenchman, who has Common-sense, be­lieves) and of his Bombarding Genoa, only to be reveng'd of its Insolency and [Page 104]of its Perfidiousness, which every Man, who has heard the Story of Mr. Valdryon, must laugh at. Now since it is to be presum'd, that Monsieur Boileau will flat­ter him in his History, because it is plain that he has flatter'd him in his Panegy­rick; what are we to expect from Mon­sieur Pelisson, whose Sincerity is by no means so much talk'd of as the other's? I thought to have concluded here: But it comes into my Mind to make two Refle­ctions upon the Panegyrical part of the enclos'd. The first is this, That since Monsieur Boileau, who is in the main a Man of Sincerity, and a lover of Truth, could not but flatter Lewis the Fourteenth, when he commended him; we may conclude, that it is impossible to give him a general Commendation with­out Flattery. For, where a Satyrick Poet paints, what other Man must not daub? The second Reflection is this, That since this Panegyrick is scarce to be supported, notwithstanding the most admirable Genius of the Author, which shines throughout it; and an Art to which no­thing can be added, (remember that I speak of the Original) and beyond which nothing can be desir'd; you may easily [Page 105]conclude how extreamly fulsom the rest of the Panegyricks upon Lewis the Four­teenth must needs be, whose Authors fall infinitely short of Boileau's, either Genius, Art, or Vertue.

THE SPEECH OF Mons. BOILEAU, Upon his Admission into the French Academy.

GENTLEMEN,

THE Honour this Day conferr'd upon me, is something so great, so extraordinary, so lit­tle expected; and so many several sorts of reasons ought to have for ever ex­cluded me from it, that at this very Mo­ment, in which I return my Acknow­ledgments, I am doubtful if I ought to [Page 107]believe it. Is it then possible, can it be true; Gentlemen, that you have in effect judg'd me worthy to be admitted into this Illustrious Society, whose Famous Esta­blishment does no less honour to the Me­mory of Cardinal Richlieu, than all the rest of the Numerous Wonders of his matchless Ministry? And what must be the thoughts of that Great Man? What must be the thoughts of that wise Chan­cellour, who after him enjoy'd the Digni­ty of your Protectorship; and after whom it was your Opinion, that none but your King had right to be your Protector? What must be their thoughts, Gentlemen, if they should behold me this Day, be­coming a Part of this Glorious Body, the Object of their eternal Care and Esteem; and into which by the Laws, which they nave establish'd, by the Maxims which they have maintain'd, no one ought to be receiv'd, who is not of a spot­less Merit, ail extraordinary Wit, and comparable even to you? But farther, whom do I succeed in the Place, which you are pleas'd to afford me here? Monsieur De Besons. Is it not a Man who is equal­ly renown'd for his great Em­ployments, and his profound Capacity? [Page 108]Is it not a Magistrate, who fill'd one of the foremost Seats in the Council; and who, in so many Important Occa­sions, has been Honoured by his Prince, with his strictest Confidence? A Ma­gistrate no less Wise than Experienc'd, Watchful, Laborious; with whom the more I compare my self, the less Propor­tion I find

I know very well, Gentlemen, (and who can be ignorant of it) that in the Choice which you make of Men, who are proper to supply the Vacancies of your Learned Assembly, you have no regard either to Place or to Dignity: That Poli­teness, Learning, and an Acquaintance with all the more Genteel Arts, have al­ways usher'd in naked Merit to you, and that you do not believe it to be unbecom­ing of you, to substitute in the room of the highest Magistrate, of the most exalted Minister, some Famous Poet, or some Writer, whom his Works have render'd Illustrious, and who has very often no other Dignity, than that which his Desert has given him upon Parnassus. But if you barely consider me as a Man of Learning, what can I offer you that may [Page 109]be worthy of the Favour, with which you have been pleas'd to honour me? Is it a wretched Collection of Poetry, success­ful rather by a happy Temerity, and a dexterous Imitation of the Ancients, than by the Beauty of its Thoughts, or the Richness of its Expressions? Is it a Translation that falls so far short of the Great Master-Pieces, with which you every Day supply us; and in the which you so gloriously revive Thucydides, Xe­nophon, Tacitus, and all the rest of the re­nown'd Heroes of the most Learn'd Anti­quity? No, Gentlemen, you are too well acquainted with the just value of things, to recompence at a rate so high, such low Productions as mine, and offer me volun­tarily upon so slight a Foundation, an Ho­nour which the Knowledge of my want of Merit, has discourag'd me still from demanding.

What can be the reason then, which in my behalf has so happily influenc'd you upon this occasion? I begin to make some Discovery of it, and I dare engage that I shall not make you blush in exposing it. The Goodness which the greatest Prince in the World has shewn in employing [Page 110]me, together with one of the first of your Illustrious Writers, to make one Colle­ction of the infinite number of his Im­mortal Actions; the Permission which he has given me to do this, has supply'd all my Defects with you.

Yes, Gentlemen, whatever just Reasons ought to have excluded me ever from, your Academy, you believ'd that you could not with Justice suffer that a Man who is destin'd to speak of such mighty Things, should be depriv'd of the Utility of your Lessons, or instructed in any other School than in yours. And, by this, you have clearly shewn, That when it is to serve your August Protector, whatever Consideration might otherwise restrain you, your Zeal will not suffer you to cast your Eyes upon any thing, but the In­terest of your Master's Glory.

Yet suffer me, Gentlemen, to undeceive you, if you believe that that Great Prince, at the time when he granted that Favour to me, believ'd that he should meet within me a Writer, who was able to sustain in the least, by the Beauty of Style, or by the magnificent Pomp of Expression, the [Page 111]Grandeur of his Exploits. No, Gentlemen, it belongs to you, and to Pens like yours, to shew the World such Master-pieces; and he never conceiv'd so advantageous a thought of me. But as every thing that he has done in his Reign is Wonderful, is Prodigious, he did not think it would be amiss, that in the midst of so many re­nown'd Writers, who with Emulation de­scribe his Actions in all their Splendour, and with all the Ornaments of the Subli­mest Eloquence, a Man without Artifice, and accus'd rather of too much Sincerity than of Flattery, should contribute by his Labour, and by his Advice, to set to shew in a proper light, and in all the Simplicity of the most Natural Style, the truth of those Actions, which being of themselves so little probable, have rather need to be faithfully related, than to be strongly ex­aggerated.

And indeed, Gentlemen, when Poets and Orators, and Historians, who are sometimes as daring as Poets or Orators, shall come to display upon so Happy a Subject, all the bold Strokes of their Art, all their Force of Expression; when they shall say of Lewis the Great, more justly [Page 112]than was said of a Famous Captain of old, that he alone has atchiev'd more Exploits than other Primes have read; that he alone has taken more Towns, than other Monarchs have wish'd to take: When they shall assure us, that there is no Poten­tate upon the face of the Earth, no not the most Ambitious, who in the secret Prayers that he puts up to Heaven, dares presume to petition for so much Glory, for so much Prosperity, as Heaven has freely granted this Prince: when they shall write, that his Conduct is Mistress of Events; that Fortune dares not contradict his Designs: When they shall paint him at the Head of his Armies, marching with Gigantick Strides over great Rivers, and the highest Mountains; Thund'ring down Ramparts, rending hard Rocks, and tearing into ten thousand pieces every thing that resists his impetuous Shock: These Expressions will doubtless appear Great, Rich, Noble, adapted to the lofty Subjest; but at the same time that the World shall wonder at them, it will not think it self oblig'd to believe them, and the Truth may be ea­sily disown'd or mistaken, under the dis­guise of its Pompous Ornaments.

But, when Writers Without Artifice, and who are contented faithfully to re­late things, and with all the simplicity of Witnesses who depose, rather than of Hi­storians, who make a Narration, shall rightly set forth, all that has pass'd in France, ever since the famous Peace of the Pyrenees; all that the King has done in his Dominions, to re-establish Order, Discipline, Law: when they shall reckon up all the Provinces which he has added to his Kingdoms in succeeding Wars, all the Advantages, all the Victories which he has gain'd of his Enemies; Holland, Germany, Spain, all Europe too feeble a­gainst him alone, a War that has been always fruitful in prosperity, and a more glorious Peace: when Pens that are sin­cere, I say, and a great deal more careful to write the Truth, than to make others admire them, shall rightly articulate all these Actions, disposed in their order of time, and attended with their real cir­cumstances; who is it that can then dis­sent from them, I do not say of our Neighbours, I do not say of Allies; I say of our mortal Enemies? And tho' they shou'd be unwilling to acknowledge the [Page 114]truth of them, will not their diminish'd Forces, their States confin'd within stricter Bounds, their Complaints, their Jealousies, their Furies, their very Inve­ctives, in spight of themselves, convince them? Can they deny that in that very Year, of which I am speaking, this Prince being resolv'd to constrain them all to accept of a Peace, which he had offer'd them for the good of Christendom, did all at once, and that at a time, when they had publish'd, that he was intirely exhausted of Men and Money: that he did then, I say, all at once, in the Low-Countries, cause to start up as 'twere out of the ground two mighty Armies, each of them consisting of Forty Thousand Men; and that he provided for them abundant Subsistance there, notwith­standing the scarcity of Forrage, and the excessive drought of the Season? Can they deny, that whil'st with one of these Armies; he caus'd his Lieutenants to besiege Luxemburgh, himself with the other, keeping as it were block'd all the Towns of Brabant and Hainault: That he did, by this most admirable Conduct, or, rather, by a kind of Enchantment, like that of the Head so renown'd in the [Page 115]ancient Fables, whose Aspect trans­form'd the Beholders to Stones, render the Spaniards unmov'd Spectators of the taking of that important place, in the which they had repos'd their utmost Re­fuge? That by a no less admirable effect of the same prodigious Enchantment, that obstinate Enemy to his Glory, that industrious Contriver of Wars and Con­federacies, who had labour'd so long to stir up all Europe against him, found him­self, if I may use the Expression, disabled and impotent, ty'd up on every side, and reduc'd to the wretched Vengeance of dispersing Libels; of sending forth Cries and Reproaches: Our very Enemies, give me leave to repeat it, can they deny all this? Must not they confess, That at the time when these wonders were executing in the Law-Countries, our Fleet upon the Mediterranean, after having forc'd Algiers to be a Suppliant for Peace, caus'd Genoa to feel, by an Example that will be eternally dreadful, the just Cha­stisement of its Insolence and of its Per­fidiousness; burying under the Ruines of Palaces and stately Houses that proud City, more easy to be destroy'd than humbled? No, without doubt, our Ene­mies [Page 116]dare not give the Lie to such known Truths, especially when they shall see them writ with that simple and natural Air, and with that Character of Sincerity and Probability, with which whate'er my Defects are, I do not abso­lutely despair to be able at least in part to supply the History.

But since this very Simplicity, all Ene­my, as it is to Ostentation and Pageantry, has yet its Art, its Method, its Beauties; from whence can I better derive that Art, and those Beauties, than from the source of all Delicacies, this fam'd Academy, which has kept possession, for so many Years, of all the Treasures, of all the Riches of our Tongue? These, Gentle­men, are the things which I am in hopes to find among you; this is what I come to study with you; this is what I come to learn of you. Happy, if by my assi­duity in frequenting you, by my address in bringing you to speak of these Mat­ters, I can engage you to conceal nothing of all your most secret Skill from me: Your Skill to render Nature decent and chaste at the very time when she is most alluring; and to make the Colours and [Page 117]Paint of Art, appear to be the genuine Beauties of Nature. Thrice happy! if by my Respects, and by my sincere Sub­missions, can perfectly convince you of the extream Acknowledgment, which I shall make all my Lite-time for the un­expected Honour you have done me.

Letters of COURTSHIP TO A Woman of Quality.

IF it be a Crime in me, Madam, to love, 'tis your fair Self that's the oc­casion of it; and if it be a Crime in me to tell you I do, 'tis my self only that's faulty. I confess, 'twas in my Power to have forborn writing, but I am satis­fy'd I cou'd never have seen you, but the Language of my Looks wou'd have dis­closed the Secret; and to what purpose is it to pretend to conceal a Flame that will discover it self by its own Light? In my mind there's more Confession in disor­dered Actions, frequent Sighs, or a com­plaining Countenance, than in all the Artful Expressions the Tongue can utter; I have been strugling with my self this three Months to discover a thing which I [Page 119]now must do in three words, and that is, that I adore you; and I am sure if you'll be just to your self, you cannot be so un­just to me, as to question the reality of this Discovery, for 'tis impossible for you to be ignorant of the Charms you possess, no body can be rich, and yet unacquainted with their Stores. And therefore, since 'tis certain, you have every thing wonder­fully engaging, you must not take it ill that my Taste is as curious as another's, I shou'd do an injury to my own Judg­ment if it were not; I am not, Madam, so vain as to believe, that any thing I can act or utter shou'd ever perswade you to retain the least kind regard, in recom­pence of the pain I suffer; I only beg leave and liberty to complain: They that are hurt in Service, are permitted to shew their Wounds; and the more gallant the Conquerour, the more generous is his Com­passion. I ventur'd last night to faulter out my Misfortune, 'twas almost dark, and I attempted it with greater boldness, nay, you your self (cruel and charming as you are) must needs take notice of my disor­der; your Sentences were short and re­proving; your Answers cold; and your Manner (contrary to your usual and pe­culiar [Page 120]sweetness) was severe and forbid­ding, yet in spight of all the Awe and chill Aspect you put on, you must always ap­pear most adorable too,

MADAM,
Your most lost and Ʋnfortunate humble Servant.

By the same Hand.

YOu need not have laid an Obligation on me of writing, who am so incli­nable of my own accord, to tire you with Letters; 'tis the most agreeable thing I can do, and cou'd wish you thought it so too; but when I reflect up­on the harshness of my Expressions, I must needs conclude, I have a greater re­gard to my own satisfaction in writing, than to your patience in reading; the on­ly way I know to make me write better, wou'd be to receive more frequent Letters from you, which would instruct me to do it; and I shou'd think it the greatest per­fection of my Pen to imitate even the faults of yours (if there were any.) I have the satisfaction left me, that I am writing to one, that, tho' her Judgment be nice and discerning, her Interpretation is easy and candid; One that has not only the brightness of Heaven to make me adore her, but also the goodness of it to forgive my offences; else I shou'd despair of Par­don for this too long Letter.

I confess, if I were to make a Recital of your Divine Qualities, an Age would be too small a time to be employ'd in the Work: I shou'd endeavour to paint your gay airy Temper, and yet shadow it with all the Modesty and cautious Reserv'd­ness; you have an Humour so very taking, that, as it fires the serious, and dull, so it checks, and restrains the too forward; and as your Charms give Encouragement, so your wakeful Conduct creates despair. If the Paper and your Patience wou'd not fail me, I cou'd live upon this Sub­ject; but whilst I do justice to your Ver­tues, I offend your Modesty; and every offence against you, Madam, must be a­voided as much as possible by him, all whose Happiness depends on pleasing you, as does that of,

MADAM,
Your humble Servant.

By the same Hand.

AS I cannot reflect upon the Melan­choly Appearance of things on Sun­day and Monday last, without an affliction inexpressible, so I cannot think on the happy Change, without the most grate­ful Pleasure. Heavens! how my. Heart sunk, when I found the tenderest part of my Soul seiz'd with an Indisposition, her Colour faded, the usual Gayety of her Temper eclips'd, her Tongue faultering, her Air languishing, and the charming Lustre of her Eyes setting and decay'd! Instead of kind Expressions full of Love and Endearments, I could hear nothing but Complaints, and the melancholy Ef­fects of a growing Illness. 'Tis true, (my dearest Life) tho' you are as beautiful as Light, tho' sweet and tender as a Flower in Spring, tho' gay and cheerful dawn­ing Youth, yet all these Perfections, that captivate others, cannot secure you against the tyranny of Distempers; Sickness has no regard to your Innocence, but the same [Page 124]ruffling Tempest that tears up the common Weeds, blasts also the fragrant blushing Rose: But now, to the Eternal Peace of my satisfy'd Mind, the Feaverish Heat is extinguish'd, and your Charms recover their usual heavenly Brightness; I am the Ʋnhappy Wretch that feels their force, and consumes of a Feaver never to be ex­tinguish'd, but with the Life of,

MADAM,
Yours, &c.

By the same Hand.

THis Morning I discover'd the Happy Signal at your Window, which was as welcome to me as a Cor­dial to fainting Spirits: Heavens grant the Design be real, Love is never free from Fears; and my presaging Mind bids me not be too confident. If there be any Sympathy in our Souls, as there is in our Manners and Humours, I am sure you must be very much indispos'd; for, all Night long, dreadful Fancies haunted me, and drove all soft and pleasing Idea's from me: The same Rest which guilty despairing Wretches and Feaverish Souls find in the midst of their Agonies, was my lot all Night long: I could not, durst not slumber; and, as my Love grew more outragious, my Apprehensions about you were more di­stracting. I cannot be well till I see you, which, if it be with your usual [Page 126]Charming Gayety, I shall be the most bless'd of Mortals: But if pale Sickness sit upon your Lips, Heavens grant it may also freeze the Blood of

YOURS.

By the same Hand.

IF Distraction be an Argument of Love, I need no other to convince you of my Passion: All my past Actions have discover'd it, since I had the honour to know you; tho' not any so sensibly as my Behaviour on Sunday-night: My Re­flection on it, gives me more pain than I can express, or you imagine; tho' in my Mind those Actions may be for­given, that proceed from Excess of Love. My Letter will discover the Loss of my Senses, which I never had so much oc­casion for as now, especially when I presume to write to one of so much Judgment as your self; but you, my Dear­est Creature, must look upon the Infirmi­ties and Distress of a Love-sick Wretch, with the same Candour and Mildness that Heaven does upon you; and let all my Faults be forgiven by your tender Heart, that is design'd for nothing but Compas­sion, and all the gentle Actions of softest Love. Whil'st I am preaching up Pity, I [Page 128]must remember to practise it my self, and not to persecute you with more Words, than to tell you, that I love you to Death; and, when I cease to do it, may Heaven justly punish my broken Vows, and may I be as miserable as now I think my self happy. But as the greatest Passi­ons are discover'd by Silence, so that must direct me to conclude.

YOURS.

By the same Hand.

I Am troubled at the Soul, to find my Dearest Life express her self with so much Concern: I am sure, till Death makes me cold, I shall never be so to one whose I entirely am, not so much, by Vows as by the sincerest Passion and Inclination. No, my kind Dear, engaging Creature, sooner than utter one Sigh which is not for You, I would chuse to be the Con­tempt of Mankind, and an Abhorrer of my own loathd Being. Your Person is too charming, your Manner too winning, your Principles too honourable, ever to let a Heart escape, that you have once made entirely your own; and, when mine is not so, may it fester in the Breast of

YOURS.

By the same Hand.

TO express the grateful sense of the Obligation I have to You, cannot be effectually done un­less I had your Pen. If You observe my Style, You will have reason to conclude I have not received Your ingenious Let­ter of Yesterday, which shou'd have been a Precedent to me, and a Rule to write by; I assure You I am as well satisfyd of the Reality of the Contents of it, as I am of its Ingenuity. Your Sense is clear, like Your Actions; and that Spirit that glows in Your Eyes, shines in Your Lines. I may venture to say, that Wri­ting is not the least of Your Excellen­cies, and if any thing cou'd perswade me to stay longer than Friday or Sa­turday here, it would be in Expectation of a second Letter from You. 'Tis my greatest pleasure to hear You are well, and to have the happiness of possessing in Thought, what is deny'd to my Eyes; [Page 131]desiring the continuance of them for no other end, than to gaze upon my dear Conqueress, who, after a most enga­ging manner, has the way of kindly killing

Her humble and eternally obliged Servant.

By the same Hand.

I Hope, my dearest Life, will excuse this impertinence, tho' I received her Commands not to write; but when I tell her, that the Tumult of my Mind was so extream, upon the Refle­ction of my late Folly, that I cou'd not rest, till I had acknowledg'd my Rash­ness; I hope she'll continue her usual Goodness of forgiving one, that cannot forgive himself. When I think of my Unworthiness, I rave. I have been treated by the dearest and best of Crea­tures, with all the Honour and Sincerity imaginable, and my Return has been Bru­tality and ill Manners. 'Tis You alone, Madam, that have sweet engaging ways peculiar to Your self, You are easy with­out Levity; Courteous and Affable with­out Flattery; You have Wit without Ill-nature, and Charms without being vain. I cannot think of all Your Hea­venly Qualifications, without upbraid­ing my self for making such barbarous [Page 133]and unjust Returns. I cannot think of what I have done, without a just Ab­horrence; I loath and detest my self, and must needs own, I ought not to subscribe my self▪ by any other Title, than,

MADAM,
Your Ʋngrateful.

A LETTER of Reproach to a Woman of Quality.

MADAM,

I Am sorry I must change my Style, and tell You I am now fully satisfyd that your Ladiship never will be so; I always fear'd your Desires wou'd ex­ceed your Returns: But when I heard You were supplied by three Nations, I thought You might have been modestly contented. And I have even yet good nature enough to pity your unfortunate Condition, or rather Constitution, that obliges half the Town of necessity to de­cline all sorts of Commerce with You; I cou'd have wish'd you had had Repu­tation enough left for me to have justi­fied, tho' You have cruelly robb'd me of the Joy of Loving, without making your self any reasonable Advantage of it: had your Soul consulted my Desti­ny, I should have had fairer play for my Passion, and not have been thus sacrific'd to your most Egregious Follies; yet, [Page 135]since better late than never, take, Madam, this time, now the Town is disbanded, the Season moderate, and your Ladiship's common Practice prorogued, to consider if there be any way left You, in some measure, to save the Confusion of your self, and that of,

MADAM,
Your real humble Servant.
August the 10th. 95.

A LETTER of Business to a Merchant's Wife in the City.

MADAM,

I Can forgive you the Difficulty you made of passing an Ev'ning with me; nay, even the affected Indiffe­rence You entertain'd me with, when You might have employ'd Your time much better; I knew Your Character, and guess'd what wou'd be the end of our first Meeting, but desire it may not be the beginning of the Second: for the fu­ture, prithee, dear Hypocrite, (do not for­get Your self) and so often engage me to Love tenderly, and yet conjure me to hope for no Return; but do me the Favour to make a better use of the next Oppor­tunity, lest You carry on too far the un­natural Jest, and contrive to force Your self out of the Inclinations of,

Madam,
Your real humble Servant.

LETTERS, By the late Celebrated Mrs. KATHERINE PHILLIPS.

The Fam'd Orinda, to the Ho­nourable Berenice.

YOur Ladiship's last Favour from Col. P—'s was truly obliging, and carried so much of the same great Soul of Yours, which loves to dif­fuse it self in Expressions of Friendship to me, that it merits a great deal more Acknowledgment than I am able to pay at my best Condition, and am less now when my Head akes, and will give me no leave to enlarge, tho' I have so much Subject and Reason; but really if my Heart ak'd too, I cou'd be sensible of a very great Kindness and Condescention [Page 138]in thinking me worthy of Your Concern, tho' I visibly perceive most of my Letters have lost their way to Your Ladiship. I beseech You, be pleas'd first to believe I have written every Post; but, secondly, since I came, and then to enquire for them, that they may be commended into Your Hands, where alone they can hope for a favourable residence: I am very much a Sharer by Sympathy, in Your Ladiship's Satisfaction in the Converse You had in the Country, and find that to that ingenious Company Fortune had been just, there being no Person fitter to receive all the Admiration of Persons best capable to pay them, than the great Bere­nice: I hope Your Ladiship will speak me a real Servant of Dr. Wilkins; and all that converse with You, have enrich'd all this Summer with Yours. I humbly thank Your Ladiship for Your Promise of Mr. Boyle's Book, which indeed merits a pub­lick, not View only, but Universal Ap­plause, if my Vote be considerable in things so much above me. If it be pos­sible, oblige me with the Sight of one of them, which (if Your Ladiship com­mand it) shall be very faithfully return'd You. And now (Madam) why was [Page 139]that a cruel Question, When will You come to Wales? 'Tis cruel to me, I con­fess that it is yet in question; but I hum­bly beg Your Ladiship to unriddle that part of Your Letter, for I cannot under­stand why You, Madam, who have no Persons alive, to whom Your Birth hath submitted You, and have already by Your Life secur'd to Your self the best Opinion the World can give You, should create an Awe upon Your own Actions, from imaginary Inconveniencies: Happiness, I confess, is twofac'd, and one is Opinion; but that Opinion is certainly our own; for it were equally ridiculous and impos­sible to shape our Actions by others Opi­nions. I have had so much (and some sad) Reason to discuss this Principle, that I can speak with some Confidence, That none will ever be happy, who make their Hap­piness to consist in, or be govern'd by the Votes of other Persons. I deny not but the Approbation of wise and good Per­sons is a very necessary Satisfaction; but to forbear innocent Contentments, only because it's possible some Fancies may be so capricious as to dispute, whether I should have taken them, is, in my Belief, neither better nor worse, than to fast al­ways, [Page 140]because there are some so supersti­tious in the World, that will abstain from Meat, upon some Score or other, upon every day in the Year, that is, some up­on some Days, and others upon others, and some upon all. You know, Madam, there is nothing so various as Vulgar Opi­nion, nothing so untrue to it self: Who shall then please, since none can fix it? 'Tis a Heresy (this of submitting to every blast of popular Extravagancy) which I have combated in Persons very dear to me: Dear Madam, let them not have Your Authority for a Relapse, when I had almost committed them; but consider it without a Byass, and give Sentence as You see cause; and in that Interim put me not off, Dear Madam, with those Chy­mera's, but tell me plainly what Inconve­nience is it to come? If it be one in earnest, I will submit, but otherwise I am so much my own Friend, and my Friend's Friend, as not to be satisfy'd with Your Ladiship's taking measure of Your Actions by others Opinion, when I know too that the se­verest could find nothing in this Journey that they could condemn, but your ex­cess of Charity to me, and that Censure You have already supported with Pa­tience, [Page 141]and (notwithstanding my own consciousness of no ways deserving Your sufferance upon that score) I cannot beg You to recover the Reputation of Your Judgment in that particular, since it must be my Ruine. I should now say very much for Your most obliging Commands to me to write, and should beg frequent Letters from Your Ladiship with all pos­sible importunity, and should by com­mand from my Lucasia excuse her last Rudeness (as she calls it) in giving You account of her Honour for You under her own Hand, but I must beg Your Pardon now, and out-believing all, I can say up­on every one of these accounts, for really, Madam, You cannot tell how to imagine any Person more to any one than I am,

MADAM,
Your Ladiship's most faithful Servant, And passionate Friend, ORINDA.
[Page 142]

Lucasia is most faithfully Your Ser­vant: I am very glad of Mr. Cowleys success, and will concern my self so much as to thank your Ladiship for your en­deavour in it.

TO THE Honourable BERENICE.

Dear MADAM,

I Have been so long silent, that I pro­fess I am now asham'd almost to beg your Pardon, and were not Confidence in your Ladiship's Goodness a greater Re­spect than the best Address in the World, I should scarce believe my self capable of remission; but when Your Ladiship shall know more fully than Papers can express, how much and how many ways I have suffered, you will rather wonder that I write at all, than that I have not written in a Week; when You shall hear that my Dear Lucasia, by a strange unfortunate Sickness of her Mother's, has been kept from me, for three Weeks logger than I expected, and is not yet come: I have had some difficulty to live, and truly, Madam, so I have, and more difficulty to be silent to You, but that in earnest my disorder was too great to write: Dear Madam, pardon and pity me, and, to ex­press [Page 144]that You do both, be pleas'd to hasten hither, where I shall pour all my Trouble into your Bosom, and receive thence all that consolation which I never in my life more needed than I now do. You see, Madam, my presumption, or rather Distraction to leap from Confes­sions into Petitions, and those for advan­tages so much above my merit: But what is that, that the dear great Berenice can deny her faithful Orinda? And what is it that Orinda would not do or suffer, to ob­tain that sweet and desired Converse, she now begs of You? I am confident my Lucasia will suddenly be here, to thank You for Your Charity, which You will, by coming, express to me, and the Obli­gation You will put upon her by it; both which shall be equally and constantly ac­knowledged (if You will please to hasten it) by

Your faithfully affectionate Friend, and humble Servant, ORINDA.
Nov. 2. 1658.

TO THE Honourable BERENICE.

I Must confess my self extreamly trou­bled, to miss a Letter from your La­diship in a whole fortnight, but I must beg You to believe your Silence did not occasion mine; for my Ambition to converse with You, and advantage in be­ing allow'd it, is too great for me to de­cline any opportunity which I can im­prove to obtain so much happiness: But really the Box of Gloves and Ribbons miss'd a conveniency of going, and a Letter that attended them partakd in the same misfortune; and by this time, and some days before it, I hope they have reach'd You, for they were sent away a­bove a Week ago; and if so, all that I can tell You of my Desire to see Your Ladi­ship will be repetition, for I had with as much earnestness as I was capable of, begg'd it then, and yet have so much of me Beggar in me, that I must redouble that importunity now, and tell you, That I gasp for You with an impatience that [Page 146]is not to be imagin'd by any Soul wound up to a less concern in Friendship than Yours is, and therefore I cannot hope to make others sensible of my vast desires to enjoy You, but I can safely appeal to Your own illustrious Heart, where I am sure of a Court of Equity to relieve me in all the complaints and supplications my Friend­ship can put up: Madam, I am assured You love me, and that being once grant­ed, 'tis out of dispute, that your Love must have nobler circumstances than mine, but because the greatness and reality of it must be always disputed with You, by me there must of necessity remain the ob­ligingness of Your Love to weigh down the Ballance, and give You that advan­tage over me in Friendship, which You unquestionably have in all things else, and if this reasoning be true, (as sure there are all Sciences in Friendship, and then Logick cannot be excluded) I have argued my self into handsom necessity of being eternally on the receiving hand, but let me qualifie that seeming mean­ness, by assuring You, that even that is the greatest testimony of my esteem for Your Ladiship, that ever I can give; for I have a natural Pride (that I cannot [Page 147]much repent of) which makes me very unwilling to be oblig'd, and more cu­rious from whom I receive kindnesses than where I confer them; so that being contented to be perpetually in Your debt, is the greatest Confession I can make of the Empire You have over me, and really that Priviledge is the last which I can submit to part withal, to be just done in Acts of Friendship, and that I do not on­ly yield You in all my Life past, but can beg to have it continued by Your doing me the greatest favour that ever I receiv'd from You, by restoring me my dear and honoured Berenice: This, Madam, is but one Action, but like the Summ of an Account, it contains the Value of all the rest, and will so oblige and refresh me, that I cannot express the satisfaction I shall receive in it; I humbly thank Your Ladiship for the assurance You have given me, that You suddenly intend it, and that You were pleas'd to be account­able to me for Your stay till Christmas, which being now at hand, I hope You will have neither Reason, Importunity, nor Inclinations to retard the Happiness You intend me: Really, Madam, I shall and must expect it in these Holidays, and [Page 148]a disappointment to me is the greatest of Miseries; and then, Madam, I trust you will be convinc'd of this necessity there is of your Life and Health, since Heaven it self appears so much concern'd in it, as to restore it by a Miracle: And, truly had you been still in danger, I should have look'd upon that as more ominous than the Blazing-star, so much discours'd of; but you are one of those extraordinary Blessings which are the Publick Concernments, and are, I trust, reserv'd to be yet many Years an Example of Honour and Ornament to Religion.

Oh, Madam, I have abundance to tell you and ask you, and if you will not hasten to hear it, you will be almost as cruel as Arsaces; but you will come, and, if you find any thing in this Letter that seems to question it, impute it to the continual distrust of my own Merit, which will not permit me easily to be­lieve my self favoured: Dear Madam, if you think me too timerous, confute me by the welcome Experiment of your Company, which, really, I perpetually long for, and again beg, as you love me, and claim as you would have me [Page 149]believe it; I am glad your Ladiship has pitch'd on a place so near me, you shall be sufficiently persecuted with Orinda. I know you will pardon me, for not ac­quainting you with the News you heard from other hands, when I tell you, there is nothing of it true, and the Town is now full of very different Discourse; but I shall tell you more particularly, when I have the honour to see you; and, till then, cannot with conveniency do it. I easily believe Dous factious; but in those Disputes, I think he discovers more Wit than Wisdom, and your Ladiship knows they are inseparable; I shall lose the Post, if I do not now hasten to sub­scribe, what I am always ready to make good, that I am more than any one living,

Your Ladiship's most faithful and most passionate Friend and Servant, ORINDA.
Decemb. 30 1658.

TO THE Honourable BERENICE.

WIth the greatest Joy and Confu­sion in the World, I receiv'd, Dear Madam, your Ladiship's most obliging Letter from Kew, and thus far I am recon­cil'd to my own Omissions, that they have produc'd a Shame, which serves me now to allay a Transport, which had otherwise been excessive at the knowledge that I am to receive, that notwithstanding all my Failings, you can look upon me with so generous a Concern: I could make many Apologies for my self, and with truth tell you, That I have ventured Pa­pers to kiss your Ladiship's Hand, since I receiv'd one from it; but really, Ma­dam, I had rather owe my Restitution wholly to your Bounty, than seem to have any pretence to it my self, and I will therefore allow my self utterly un­worthy of having any room in your Thoughts, in that I have not perpetually begg'd it of you, with that Assiduity as is suitable to so great and so valu'd a Bless­ing; [Page 151]and I know that tho' a Sea has di­vided our Persons, and many other Acci­dents made your Ladiships Residence un­certain to me, yet I ought to have been restless in my Enquiries how to make my Approaches to you; and all the Varieties, and Wandrings, and Troubles that I have undergone since I had the honour to see your Ladiship, ought not to have distract­ed me one moment from the payment of that Devotion to you, which, if you please, I will swear never to have been one jot lessen'd in my Heart, as ill and as seldom as I have express'd it; but now, that my good Fortune has brought me once more so near your Ladiship, I hope to redeem my Time, by so constant and servent Addresses to you, as shall both witness how unalterably I have ever lov'd and ho­nour'd you, and how extreamly glad I am still to be preserv'd in so noble and so priz'd a Heart as yours; and, that I may the sooner be secur'd of that, and restor'd to your Converse, I must beg your Ladi­ship to find some occasion that may bring you to London, where I may cast my self at your Feet, both in repentance of my own Faults, and acknowledgment of your Goodness, and assure you that neither Lu­casia, [Page 152]nor any other Person, ever had the Will, the Power, or the Confidence to hinder the Justice of my most affectionate Service to your Ladiship, and tho' you fright me with telling me how much you have considered me of late, yet I will venture upon all the Severity that Refle­ction can produce; and if it be as great as I may reasonably fear, yet I will sub­mit to it for the Expiation of my Fail­ings, and think my self sufficiently happy if after any Penance, you will once more receive me into your Friendship, and al­low me to be that same Orinda, whom with so much goodness you were once pleased to own as most faithfully yours, and who have ever been, and ever will be so: And, Dear dear Madam,

Your Ladiship's most affectionate humble Servant and Friend K. PHILLIPS.

This was wrote but a Month before Orin­da died.

To Mr. HERBERT.

I Receiv'd your two Letters against Hypocrisie and Love, but I must tell you, they have made me no Con­vert from Women, and their Favourite; for who, like Simonides, wou'd give nine scandalous Origins to Womankind, for one good one, meerly because the Follies and Vices of that Sex deserve it, and yet hope ever to make your Account of them? Or who, with Petronius Arbiter, would tell the Lawyers,

Quid faciunt Leges ubi sola pecunia regnat?
Aut ubi paupertas vincere nulla potest,
Ipsi qui Cynica traducunt tempora cena,
Nonnunquam nummis vendere verba so­lent,
Ergo judicium, nihil est nisi publica Merces
At (que) eques in cause qui sedet empt a probat.

Thus English'd by Mr. Barnaby.

Laws bear the Name, but Money has the Power;
The cause is bad when e'er the Client's Poor;
[Page 154]
Those strict-liv'd Men that seem above our World,
Are oft too modest to resist our Gold:
So Judgment, like our other Wares, is sold;
And the Grave Knight that nods upon the Laws,
Wak'd by a Fee, Hems, and approves the Cause.

That the Bar is but a Market for the Sale of Right, and that the Judge sits there only to confirm what the Bribe had se­cur'd before, and yet hope ever to escape when you come into their Hands? Or what Man that has his Interest before his Eyes, wou'd tell this dangerous Truth, That Priests of all Religions are the same?

No, no, Plain-dealing must be lest to Manly, and confin'd to the Theatre, and permit Hypocrisie and Nonsence to prevail with those pretty Amusements, Women, that like their own Pleasure too well, to be fond of Sincerity. You declaim against Love on the usual Topicks, and have scarce any thing new to be answer'd by me, their profess'd Advocate, if by Re­pentance you mean the Pain that accom­panies Love; all other Pleasures are mixt [Page 155]with that, as well as Love, as Cicero ob­serves in his second Book de Oratore, Om­nibus rebus, voluptatibus maximis fastidium finitimum est: In all things where the greatest Pleasures are found, there borders a satiety and uneasie pain. And Catullus, Non est dea nescia nostri, quae dulcem curis miscet amaritiem: Nor am I unknown to that bright Goddess, who with my Cares mingles a sweet pleasing Bitter. But I take this Pain in Love to proceed from the imperfection of our Union with the Object belov'd, for the Mind forms a thousand entran­cing Idea's, but the Body is not capable of coming up to that satisfaction the Mind proposes; but this Pain is in all other Pleasures that we have, none of which afford that fulness of Pleasure, as Love, which bears some proportion to the ve­hemence of our Desires: Speak therefore no more against Love, as you hope to die in the Arms of Sylvia, or not perish wretchedly in the Death of a Pumpkin. I am

Your Friend, &c.

LETTERS, BY Mr. THO. BROWN.

To C. G. Esq in Covent Garden.

MAY I be forced to turn News-monger for a wretched Subsi­stence, and beat up fifty Coffee-houses e­very Morning, to gather Scraps of Intel­ligence, and fatherless Scandal; or, (to Curse my self more emphatically) may I live the restless Life of some gay youn­ger Brother's starving Footman of the Temple, who between his Master's Debts and Fornication, visits once a Day half the Shop-keepers in Fleetstreet, and half the Whores in Drury-lane, if I am not as [Page 157]utterly weary of hunting after you any longer, as ever Statesman was of serving the Publick, when the Publick forgot to bribe his private Interest. Shou'd I but set down how many tiresome Leagues I have travell'd, how often I have shot all the City-gates, cross'd Lincolns-inn Fields, pass'd the two Tro­picks of the Old and New Exchange, and doubled the Cape of Covent-garden Church to see you, I shou'd grow more voluminous than Coryat, and you'd fan­cy your self, without doubt, engag'd in Purchase's or Hackluyt's Itineraries. As you are a Person of half Business, and half Pleasure, (which the Wise say, is the best Composition in the World) I have con­sider'd you in your two Capacities, and order'd my Visits accordingly. Some­times I call'd upon you betimes in a Morning, when nothing was to be met in the Streets, but grave Tradesmen, stalking in their Slippers to the next Coffee-house; Midnight-drunkards, reel­ing home from the Rose; industrious Harlots, who had been earning a Penny over-Night, tripping it on foot to their Lodgings; Ragmen, picking up Mate­rials for Grubstreet; in short, nothing [Page 158]but Bailiffs, Chimney-sweepers, Cinder-women, and other People of the same early Occupations, and yet, as my ill Stars contriv'd it, you were still gone out before me. At other times I have call'd at Four in Afternoon, the Sober Hour, when other discreet Gentlemen were but newly up, and dressing to go to the Play; but to as little purpose as in the Morning. Then, towards the Evening, I have a hundred times examin'd the Pit and Boxes, the Chocolate-houses, the Taverns, and all places of publick resort, except a Church, (and there, I confess, I cou'd no more expect to meet you, than a Right Beau of the last Paris Edition in the Bear-garden) but still I fail'd of you every where, tho' sometimes you 'scaped me, as narrowly as a Quibble does some mer­ry Statesmen I cou'd name to you. Is it not strange, thought I to my self, that every paltry Astrologer about the Town, by the help of a foolish Telescope, should be able to have the Seven Planets at a Minute's warning, nay, and their very Attendants, their Satellites too, tho' some of them are so many hundred thousand Miles distant from us, to know precisely when they go to Bed, and what Rambles [Page 159]they take, and yet that I with all my pains and application shou'd never take you in any of your Orbits, who are so con­siderably nearer to me? But, for my part, I believe a Man may sooner find out a true Key to the Revelations, than disco­ver your By-haunts, and solve every Pro­blem in Euclid much easier than your self. With all Reverence be it said, Your Ways are as hard to be traced as those of Heaven; and the Dean of P—, who in his late History of Providence has ex­plain'd all the several Phaenomena's of it, but his own Conversions, is the fittest Per­son I know of in the World to account for your Eclipses. Some of your and my good Friends, (whom I need not mention to you) have cross'd the German Ocean, made the Tour of the Low-Countries, seen the Elector of Bavaria and Prince Vaude­mont, and might, if they pleas'd, have got drunk with a dozen of German Princes, in half the time, I have been beating the Hoof up and down London, to find out you:—So that at last, after a World of mortifying Disappointments, taking a Martial in my hands, I happen'd to light upon an Epigram of his, address'd to De­cianus, a very honest Gentleman it seems, [Page 160]but one that was as hard to be met with as your self: And this Epigram, suiting my own case exactly, I here send you a Paraphrase or Imitation of it, call it which you please.

Ne valeam, si non totis Deciane Diebus.

Lib. 2. Ep. 2.
In some vile Hamlet let me live forgot,
Small-Beer my Portion, and no Wine my lot:
To some worse Jilt in Church-Indentures bound,
Than ancient Job, or modern Sh— found,
And with more Aches visited, and Ills,
Than fill up Salmon's Works, or Tilburgh 's Bills:
If 'tis not still the Burden of my Prayer,
The Day with you, with you the Night to share.
But, Sir, (and the Complaint, you know, is true)
Two damn'd long Miles there lye 'twixt me and you:
And these two Miles, with little Calcula­tion,
Make four, by that I've reach'd my Habita­tion.
You near Sage Will 's, the Land of Mirth and Claret,
I live, stow'd up in a White-chappel Gar­ret;
Oft, when I've come so far your Hands to kiss,
Flatter'd with Thoughts of the succeeding Bliss,
I'm told, you're gone to the Vexatious Hall,
Where, with eternal Lungs, the Lawyers bawl,
Or else stole out, a Female Friend to see;
Or, what's as bad, you're not at Home for me.
Two Miles I've at your Service, and that's civil,
But to trudge four, and miss you, is the Devil.

And now, if you are not incurably lost to all sence of Humanity, send me word where it is you pass your Evenings, or in one of your beloved Catullus's Expres­sions,

Demonstres ubi sunt tuae tenebrae.

But if you think that too hard upon you, for I wou'd not be thought to invade your Privacies, appoint some common [Page 162]Meeting-place, the Griffin, or the Dog; where, with two or three more select Friends, we may pass a few Hours over a Righteous Bottle of Claret. As you ever hope that Heaven will be merciful, or Sylvia true to you, let this happy Night be some time this Week. I am

Your most obliged Servant, T. BROWN.

To the Perjur'd Mrs.—

THis Morning I receiv'd the News, (which, knowing you to be a Woman, I confess, did not much startle me) that is, spight of all your Promises, your Vows, and Obligations, nay, and in spight of your Interest too, (which you Women so seldom sin against) you had sacrificed my worthy Friend Mr.—, and are to be married next Week to that nauseous, that insuppor­table, that everlasting Beast—. Upon which I immediately repair'd to my Friend's Lodgings; and, because I knew but too well how nearly he had taken you into his Heart, I carried him to that blessed Sanctuary of disappointed Lo­vers, a Tavern, the better to prepare him for the News of your Infidelity; I plied him warmly with the Juice of the generous Grape, and entertain'd him all the while with the most horrible Stories of your Sex, that my malice cou'd sug­gest to me; which, Heaven be prais'd, [Page 164]was fruitful enough upon this occasion; for I don't believe I forgot one single In­stance of Female Treachery, from Mother Eve, of wheedling Memory, down to your Virtuous self. At last, when Matters were ripe, I disclos'd the unwelcome Se­cret to him—. He raved, and wept, and, after some interval, wept and raved again; but, thanks to my pious Advice, and the kind influence of t'other Bottle, it was not long before the Paroxysm was over. I cou'd almost wish you had been by, to see how Heroically he threw off your Chains; with what Alacrity he tore you from his Bosom; and, in fine, with what a Christian Self-denial he re­nounc'd you; more heartily, I dear swear, than his Godfather abjur'd the Devil for him at his Baptism.

And now, Madam, tho' I confess you have prevented my Curses, by your choice of such a Coxcomb, and 'tis not good Manners to solicite a Judgment from Heaven on every such Accident as this, (for Providence wou'd have a fine time on't, to be at the expence of a Thun­derbolt, for every Woman that forswears herself) yet so much do I resent the ill [Page 165]usage of my Friend, that I cannot for­bear to give you this Conviction, how earnestly I can pray, when I set my self to't. Therefore give me leave, Madam, to throw these hearty Ejaculations at your Head, now, since I shall not have the honour to throw a Stocking at you on the fatal Night of Consummation.

May the Brute, your Husband, be as jealous of you, as Usurpers are of their new Subjects, and, to shew his good opinion of your Judgment, as well as your Virtue, may he suspect you of a Commerce with nothing of God's mak­ing; nothing like a Gentleman that may serve to excuse the Sin, but lousie Bush­begotten Vagabonds, and hideous Rogues in Rags and Tatters, or Monsters that stole into the World, when Nature was asleep, with Ulcers all over them, and Bunches on their Backs as large as Hillocks. May you never actually Cuck­old him, (for that were to wish you some Pleasure, which, God knows, I am far from being guilty of) but what will serve to torment him as effectually: May the Wretch imagine you've injur'd him that way; under which prepossession [Page 166]may he never open his Mouth, but to Curse, nor lift up his Hands, but to Cha­stise you. May that execrable Day be for ever banished out of the Almanack, in which he does not use his best endea­vours to beat one into your Bones; and may you never go to Bed, without an ap­prehension that he'll cut your Throat: May he too have the same distrust of you. Thus may your Nights be spent in eternal Quarrels, and your Nuptial-sheets boast of no honourable Blood but what's owing to these Nocturnal Skir­mishes. May he lock you up from the sight of all Mankind, and leave you no­thing but your ill Conscience to keep you company, till at last, between his penu­rious allowance, and the sense of your own guilt, you make so terrible a figure, that the worst Witch in Mackbeth wou'd seem an Angel to you. May not even this dismal Solitude protect you from his Suspicions, but may some Good-natured Devil whisper into his Ear, That you have committed Wickedness with a Bed­staff, and, in one of his frantick Fits, may he beat out your Brains with that sup­posed Instrument of your Lust. May your History be transmitted to all Ages [Page 167]in the Annals of Grubstreet, and, as they fright Children with Raw-head, and Bloody-bones, may your Name be quoted to deter People from committing of Ma­trimony. And to ratifie all this, (upon my Knees I most devoutly beg it) may Heaven hear the Prayers of

T. BROWN.

TO THE HonourableIn the Pallmall.

SIR,

LAst Night I had the following Ver­ses, which, for my part, I confess, I never saw before, given me by a Gentle­man, who assur'd me they were written by my late Lord Rochester; and, knowing what a just Value you have for all the Compositions of that Incomparable Per­son, I was resolv'd to send 'em to you by the first opportunity. 'Tis indeed very strange how they could be continued in private Hands all this while, since the great care that has been taken to print every Line of his Lordship's Writing that would endure a publick view: But I am not able to assign the reason for it. All that you need know concerning the occasion of them, is, that they were writ­ten in a Lady's Prayer-Book.

Fling this useless Book away,
And presume no more to pray;
Heav'n is just, and can bestow
Mercy on none but those that mercy show:
With a proud Heart, maliciously inclin'd,
Not to increase, but to subdue Mankind.
In vain you vex the Gods with your Pe­tition,
Without Repentance, and sincere Contri­tion,
You're in a Reprobate Condition;
Phillis, to calm the angry Powers,
And save my Soul as well as yours,
Relieve poor Mortals from Despair,
And justifie the Gods that made you fair;
And in those bright and charming Eyes
Let Pity first appear, then Love;
That we by easie steps may rise
Through all the Joys on Earth, to those Above.

I cannot swear to their being ge­nuine; however, there's something so delicate in the Thought, so easie and beautiful in the Expression, that I am without much difficulty to be perswaded that they belong to my Lord. Besides, I cannot imagine with what prospect any Gentleman should disown a Copy of [Page 170]Verses, which might have done him no ill Service with the Ladies to father them upon his Lordship, whose Reputation was so well establish'd among them be­forehand, by a numerous and lawful Issue of his own begetting. The Song that comes along with them, was written by Mr. Gl—of Lincoln's-Inn; and, I be­lieve, you'll applaud my Judgment, for seeking to entertain you out of my Friend's Store, who understands the Har­mony of an English Ode so well, since I have nothing of mine own that deserves transcribing.

I.
Phillis has a gentle Heart,
Willing to the Lover's Courting;
Wanton Nature, all the Art,
To direct her in her Sporting:
In th' Embrace, the Look, the Kiss,
All is real Inclination;
No false Raptures in the Bliss;
No feignd Sighing in the Passion.
II.
But oh! who the Charms can speak,
Who the thousand ways of toying,
When she does the Lover make
All a God in her enjoying?
Who the Limbs that round him move,
And constrain him to the Blisses?
Who the Eyes that swim in Love,
Or the Lips that suck in Kisses?
III.
Oh the Freaks, when mad she grows,
Raves all wild with the possessing!
Oh the silent Trance! which shows
The Delight above expressing.
Every way she does engage,
Idly talking, speechless lying:
She transports me with the Rage,
And she kills me in her Dying.

I could not but laugh at one Passage in your Letter, where you tell me, that you, and half a dozen more, had like to have been talk'd to death t'other day, by— upon the Success of his late Play. For my part, I don't pity you at all; for why the Devil should a Man run his Head a­gainst a Brick-wall, when he may avoid it? On the other hand, I wonder why you Gentlemen of Will's Coffee-house, who pretend to study Pleasure above o­ther People, should not as naturally scam­per out of the Room, when your persecu­tor appears, as Monsieur Misson tell us, [Page 172]the Dogs in Italy ran out of Church as soon as ever they see a Capuchin mount the Pulpit. I find by you, that the above-mention'd everlasting Babillard plagued you with his Songs, and talked of out-doing Don Quixot of Melodious Memo­ry; so far I agree with him, that if he has any Genius, it lies wholly in Sonnet. But (Heaven be prais'd) notwithstanding all the feeble Efforts of his Enemies to depose him, Mr. D'Ʋurfey still continues the only Legal, Rightful, and Undoubted King of Lyrick-land, whom God grant long to reign over all his Hamlets, and may no Gallic Attempt against his Crown or Person, ever prosper. So wishes

Your most obliged Servant, T. BROWN.

To My Lady—

I Found a Letter of your Ladiship's own Hand left for me last Night at my Lodgings. This Morning a Porter visited me with another of the sort, and just now going to dine with some Friends at the Blue-posts, you send me a third to refresh my Memory. I vow to God, Ma­dam, if you continue to draw your Bills so fast upon me, I must be forc'd to pro­test them in my own Defence, or fly my Country. But, with submission, methinks the Language of all three was very sur­prizing: You complain of my Absence, and Coldness, and the Lord knows what, tho' 'tis but four days ago since I gave you the best convictions of my Love I cou'd, and you flatter'd me strangely, if you were not satisfied with them: May I be as unacceptable to all Womankind as an old Eunuch with Jo. Haynes's Voice, if there's a Person in the Universe whom I adore above your self; but the devoutest Lover upon Earth may sometimes be [Page 174]without an Offering, and then certainly he's excused by all Love's Canon-Law in the World, for not coming to the Al­tar. There are People I know that love to hear the ratling of the Boxes, and shew themselves at the Groom-Porter's, when they have not a Farthing in their Pockets: but for my part, I cou'd never endure to be an idle Looker-on. I have a thousand Obligations to your Ladiship, and till I am in a capacity to repay them, shou'd be as uneasy to see you, as any o­ther Creditor, when I have no Money to send him going. I am so very honest in my own nature, that I wou'd not put you off with half Payments, and if I were not, your Ladiship is so discerning, that I might much easier palm Clipt-money upon a Jew, than succeed in such a trick with so nice a Judge. Perhaps, Madam, you are scrupulous in this matter, even to a Fault. 'Tis not enough for you, that your Money is Parliamentary, and that other People wou'd be glad on't, for if it is not of the largest size, or wants one Grain of its due weight, you reject it with indignation. But, what is the hardest case of all, (and you must par­don me, Madam, if I take this occasion [Page 175]to reproach You with it) You are for en­grossing a Man's whole Cash to Your self, and, by Your good will, wou'd not leave him one solitary Testar to di­stribute among the Needy elsewhere, tho' you don't know what Objects of Charity he may meet abroad. This, in truth, is very severe usage: 'Tis the same as if the Government shou'd only take care to pay off the Soldiers in Flanders, and suffer the poor Seamen to starve. Even the Royal-Oak Lottery, who are fit to be imitated by You in this particular, never strip a Man intirely of all, but let him march off decently with a Crown or two to carry him home. If this Example won't work upon You, pray learn a piece of Tartarian-Mercy; they are none of the best bred People in the World, I confess, but are so civil when they come to a place, not to eat out the Heart of the Soil, but, having served a present turn, shift their Quarters, and forbear to make a second Visit, till the Grass is grown up a­gain. Nay, a Nonconformist Parson, who is a kind of rambling a Church-Tartar, but of the worser sort, after he has graz'd a beloved Text as bare as the back of one's Hand, is glad for his own convience, [Page 176]to remove to another. Both these In­stances, you'll say, look as if I advised you to supply my defect in another place; I leave that to your own discretion; but really your humble Servant's pre­sent exigencies are such, that he must be forc'd to shut up his Exchequer for some time.

I have a hundred times wished, That those unnatural Rogues, the Writers of Romances, had been all hanged, ( Mon­tague before me did the same for the Sta­tuaries) for giving you, Ladies, such wrong Notions of things. By represent­ing their Heroes so much beyond Nature, they put such extravagant Idea's into your Heads, that every Woman, unless she has a very despicable Opinion of her own Charms, which not one in a Mil­lion has, expects to find a Benefit-Ticket, a Pharamond, or an Oroondates, to come up for her share, and nothing below such a Monster will content her. You think the Men cou'd do infinitely more, if they pleased; and, as 'tis a foolish Notion of the Indians, that the Apes wou'd speak, if it were not for fear of being made slaves to the Spaniards; so you, forsooth, ima­gine, [Page 177]that we, for some such reason, are afraid of going to the full length of our Abilities. We cannot be so much de­ceived in our hopes of your Constancy, as you are disappointed in our Perfor­mances: so that 'twere happy for the World, I think, if Heaven wou'd either give us the Vigour of those Brawny Long-liv'd Fellows, our Ancestors, or else abridge the Desires of the Women: But, Madam, don't believe a word, that those Romance Writers, or their Brethren in Iniquity, the Poets, tell you. The latter prate much of one Hercules, (a Plague take him) that run the Gauntlet through fifty Virgin-sisters in one Night. 'Tis an impudent Fiction, Madam. The Devil of a Hercules, that there ever was upon the face of the Earth, (let me beg of you therefore, not to set him up for a Knight of the Shire, to represent the rest) or, if part of his History is true, he was a down right Madman, and prosper'd ac­cordingly: For you know he died raving and impenitent upon a Mountain. Both he and his whole Family have been ex­tinct these two thousand Years and up­wards. Some Memoirs tell us, That the Country rose upon them, and dispatch'd [Page 178]them all in a Night, as the Glencow-men were served in Scotland. I won't justifie the truth of this; but, after you, have tried the whole Race of us, one after an­other, if you find one Man thrt pretends to be related to this Hercules, tho' at the distance of a Welch Genealogy, let me die the Death of the Wicked.

Therefore, Madam, take my Advice, and I'll engage you shall be no loser by it. If your Necessities are so pressing, that you can't stay, you must e'n borrow of a Neighbour; since Cheapside fails you, a God's Name, try your Fortune in Lom­bard-street. But if you could order mat­ters Otherwise, and allow me a Week or so longer, to make up my Sum, you shou'd then be repaid with Interest, by

LYSANDER.

A Consolatory Letter to an Essex Divine, upon the Death of his Wife.

OLD FRIEND,

A Gentleman, that lives in your Neighbourhood, told me this Morning, after we had had some short Discourse about you, that you have buried your Wife. You and I, Doctor, knew one another, I think, pretty well at the College; but being absolutely a stranger to your Wife's Person and Cha­racter, the Old Gentleman in Black take me, if I know how to behave my self up­on this occasion: that is to say, whether to be Sad or Merry; whether to Condole, or Congratulate you. But, since I must do one or t'other, I think it best to go on the surer side: And so, Doctor, I give you Joy of your late great Deliverance. You'll ask me, perhaps, why I chose this Par­ty? To which I shall only reply. That your Wife was a Woman; and 'tis an hundred to one that I have hit on the [Page 180]right. But if this won't suffice, I have Argument to make use of, that you can no more answer, than you can confute Bellarmine. I don't mean the Popish Car­dinal of that Name, (for, I believe, you have oftner laid him upon his Back, than Mrs. Mary, deceas'd) but an ungodly Vessel holding about six Gallons, which, in some parts of England, goes by ano­ther Name (the more's the pity 'tis suf­fer'd) and is call'd, a Jeroboam.— And thus I urge it— Mrs. Mary, de­funct, was either a very good, or a ve­ry bad; or an indifferent, a between Hawk and Buzzard Wife; tho' you know the Primitive Christians, for the four first Ages of the Church, were all of Opinion, that there were no indiffe­rent Wives: however, disputandi gratia, I allow them here. Now, if she was a good Wife, she's certainly gone to a better place; and then St. Jerome, and St. Austin, and St. Ambrose, and St. Ba­sil, and in short, a whole Cart-load of Greek and Latin Fathers (whom 'tis not your Interest, by any means, to disoblige) say positively, That you ought not to grieve. If she was a bad one, your Rea­son will suggest the same to you, with­out [Page 181]going to Councils and Schoolmen. So now it only remains upon my hands to prove, that you ought not to be concern'd for her Death, if she was an indifferent Wife; and Publick Authority having not thought fit as yet, to oblige us to mourn for Wives of that denomination, it follows, by the Doctrin of the Church of England, about things indifferent, that you had better let it alone, for fear of giving Scandal to weak Brethren.

Therefore, Doctor, if you'll take my Advice, in the first place, Pluck up a good Heart; secondly, Smoak your Pipe, as you used to do; thirdly, Read mode­rately; fourthly, Drink plentifully; fifthly and lastly, When you are distri­buting Spoon-meat to the People next Sunday from your Pulpit, cast me a Hawk's Eye round your Congregation, and, if you can, spy out a Farmer's Daugh­ter, plump and juicy, one that's likely to be a good Breeder, and whose Father is of some Authority in the Parish (be­cause that may be necessary for the Sup­port of holy Church) say no more, but pelt her with Letters, Hymns and Spiri­tual Sonnets, till you have gain'd your [Page 182]Carnal Point of her. Follow this Coun­sel, and I'll engage your late Wife will rise no more in your Stomach; for, by the unerring Rule of Kitchin-Physick, which, I am apt to think, is the best in all Cases, one Shoulder of Mutton serves best to drive down another. I am

Yours, T. BROWN.

To the Fair LUCINDA, at Epsom.

MADAM,

I Wish I were a Parliament-man for your sake. Another now wou'd have wish'd to have been the Great Mogul, the Grand Seignior, or at least some Sovereign Prince; but you see I am no ambitious Person, any farther than I aspire to be in your good Graces. Now, if you ask me the Reason, why I wish to be so; 'tis nei­ther to bellow my self into a good Place at Court, nor to avoid paying my Debts; 'tis to do a Publick Service to my Coun­try, 'tis to put the fam'd Magna Charta in force: In short, Madam, 'tis to get a Bill pass, whereby every pretty Woman in the Kingdom, (and then I am sure you'll be included in it) shou'd under the severest Penalties imaginable, be prohi­bited to appear in Publick without her Mask on. I have often wonder'd why our Senators flatter us with being a free People, and pretend they have done such mighty things to secure our Liberty, when [Page 184]we are openly plunder'd of it by the La­dies, and that in the face of the Sun, and on His Majesty's Highway. I am a sad Instance, Madam, of this Truth. I that, but twelve Hours ago, was as free as the wildest Savage in either Indies, that Slept easily, Talk'd cheerfully, took my Bottle merrily, and had nothing to rob me of one Minute's Pleasure, now love to be alone, make answers when no Body speaks to me; Sigh when I least think on't; and, tho' I still drag this hea­vy lifeless Carcase about me, can give no more account of my own Movements, than of what the two Armies are doing this very moment in Flanders. By all these wicked Symptoms, I terribly su­spect I am in Love. If that is my case, and Lucinda does not prove as merciful as she is Charming, the Lord have mercy on poor

MIRTILLO.

To the Same at LONDON.

MADAM,

AT last, but after a tedious Enquiry, I have found out your Lodgings in Town, and am pleas'd to hear you're kept by — who, according to our last Advices from Lombard-street, is Rich and Old, two as good Qualities as a Man cou'd desire in a Rival: May the whole World (I heartily wish it) consent to pay Tribute to all your Conveniences, nay, to your Luxury; while I, and none but I, have the honour to administer to your Love. Don't tell me your Obliga­tions to him won't give you leave to be complaisant to a Stranger. You are his Sovereign, and 'tis a standing Rule a­mong us Casuists, that under that capa­city you can do him no wrong. But you imagine he loves you, because he presents you with so many fine Things: After this rate, the most impotent Wretches wou'd be the greatest Lovers; for none are found to bribe Heaven or [Page 186]Women so high, as those that have the most defects attone for. You may take it for granted, that half the Keep­ing-drones about the Town, do it ra­ther to follow the Mode, or to please a vain Humour, than out of Love to the Party they pretend to admire so, and this foolish Affectation attends them in other things. I cou'd tell you of a cer­tain Lord, that keeps a Chaplain in his House, and allows him plentifully, yet this Noble Peer is a rank Atheist in his Heart, and believes nothing of the mat­ter: I know another, that has a fine Stable of Horses; and a third, that va­lues himself upon his great Library, yet one of them rides out but once in half a Year, and t'other never looked on a Book in all his Life. Admit your City-Friend loved you never so well, yet he's old, which is an incurable Fault, and looking upon you as his Purchase, comes with a Secure, that is with a Sickly Ap­petite; while a vigorous Lover, such as I am, that has honourable Difficulties to pass through; that knows he's upon his good Behaviour, and has nothing but his Merits to recommend him, is nothing but Rapture, and Extasie, and Devotion. [Page 187]But oh, your are afraid it will come to Old Limberham's Ears; that is to say, You apprehend I shall make Discoveries; for 'tis not to be supposed you'll turn Evi­dence against your self. Prithee, Child, don't let that frighten you. Not a bribed Parliament-man, nor a drubb'd Beau, nor a breaking Tradesman; nay, to give you the last satisfaction of my Secresie, not a Parson that has committed Symony, nor a forraging Author that has got a private Stealing-place, shall be half so secret, as you'll find me upon this occasion. I'll always come the back-way to your Lodg­ings, and that in the Evening, with as much prudent religious Caution, as a Ci­ty Clergyman steals into a Tavern on Sundays; and tho' it be a difficult Lesson for Flesh and Blood to practise, yet, to convince you, Madam, how much I va­lue your Reputation, above my own Plea­sure, I'll leave you a Mornings before Scandal it self is up; that is, before any of the censorious Neighbourhood are stir­ring. If I see you in the Street, or at the Play-house, I'll know you no more than two Sharpers, that design to bob a Country-fellow with a dropp'd Guinea, know one another when they meet in the [Page 188]Tavern. I'll not discover my Engage­ments with you by any Overt-acts of my Loyalty, such as Drinking your Health in all Companies, and Writing your Name in every Glass-window, nor yet betray you by too superstitious a Care to conceal the Intrigue.

Thus, Madam, I have answered all the Scruples that I thought cou'd affect you upon this matter. But, to satisfie your Conscience farther, I am resolv'd to visit you to Morrow-night; therefore muster up all the Objections you can, and place them in the most formidable po­sture, that I may have the Honour to at­tack and defeat them. If you don't wil­fully oppose your own Happiness, I'll convince you, before we part, that there's a greater Difference than you imagine, between your Man of Phlegm, and such a Lover as

MIRTILLO.

To W. KNIGHT, Esq at Rascomb, in Berkshire.

Dear SIR,

YOu desir'd me, when I saw you last, to send you the News of the Town, and to let you see how punctually I have obey'd your Orders, scarce a Day has pass'd over my Head since, but I have been enquiring after the freshest Ghost and Apparitions for you, Rapes of the newest date, dexterous Mur­ders, and fantastical Marriages, Coun­try Steeples demolish'd by Lightning, Whales stranded in the North, &c. a large Account of all which you may expect when they come in my way, but at pre­sent be pleas'd to take up with the fol­lowing News.

On Tuesday last, that walking piece of English Mummy, that Sybil incarnate, I mean my Lady Courtall, who has not had one Tooth in her Head, since King Charles's Restauration, and looks old e­nough to pass for Venerable Bede's Grand­mother, [Page 190]was Married—Cou'd you be­lieve it?—To young Lisanio. You must know I did my self the Honour now and then to make her Ladiship a Visit, and found that of late she affected a youthful Air, and spruc'd up her Carcase most egre­giously; but, the Duce take me, if I su­spected her of any lewd Inclinations to Marry: I thought that Devil had been laid in her long ago. To make my Vi­sits more acceptable, I us'd to compliment her upon her Charms and all that; where by the by, my dear Friend, you may take it for a general Rule, that the Uglier your Women are, and the Duller your Men, they are the easier to be flat­ter'd into a Belief of their Beauty and Wit. I told her, she was resolv'd to act Sampson's part, and kill more People in the last Scene of her Life, than other La­dies cou'd pretend to do in the whole five Acts of theirs. By a certain awkard Joy, that display'd it self all over her Counte­nance, and glow'd even through her Cheeks of Buff; I cou'd perceive this nau­seous Incense was not unwelcome to her. 'Tis true, she had the Grace to deny all this; and told me, I rallied her, but de­ny'd it so, as intriguing Sparks deny they [Page 191]have lain with fine Women, and some Wou'd-be Poets deny their Writing of Fa­therless Lampoons, when they have a mind at the same time to be thought they did what they coldly disown. I cou'd not but observe upon this, and several other occasions, how merciful Heaven has been to us, in weaving Self-love so closely into our Natures, in order to make Life palatable. The Divines indeed arraign it as a Sin; that is, they wou'd make us more miserable than Providence ever de­sign'd us, tho' were it not for this very Sin, not one of them in a hundred wou'd have Courage enough to talk in publick. For my part, I always consider'd it as the best Friend, and greatest Blessing we have, without which, all those merry Farces that now serve to entertain us wou'd be lost, and the World it self be as silent and melancholly a sa Spanish Court. 'Tis this blessed Vanity that makes all Mankind easie and chearful at home, (for no Body's a Fool, or a Rascal, or Ʋgly, or Imperti­nent in his own Eyes) that makes a Miser think himself Wise, an affected Coxcomb think himself a Wit, a thriving gay Villain think himself a Politician; and in short, that makes my Lady Court-all believe [Page 192]her self. But to quit this Digression, and pursue my Story.

On the Day abovemention'd, this dry Puss of Quality, that had such a furious longing to be Matrimonially larded, stole out of her House, with two of her Grave Companions; and never did a Country Justice's Oatmeal-eating Daughter of fif­teen use more Discretion to be undone with her Father's Clarke, or Chaplain. Gray's Inn Walks was the place of Ren­dezvous; where, after they had taken a few Turns, Lisanio and she walked sepa­rately to the Chappel, and the Holy Ma­gician Conjur'd them into the Circle. From thence they drove home in several Coaches, Din'd together, but not a Syl­lable of the Wickedness they had com­mitted, till towards Night, because then I suppose their Blushes were best con­cealed, they thought fit to own all. Upon this, some few Friends were invited, and the Fiddles struck up, and my Old Lady frisk'd about most notably; but was as much overtopp'd, and put out of Counte­nance, by the Young Women, at Somer­set-house with the New Buildings. Not to enter into a Detail of all that happen'd, the rusty Gammon of Bacon at last was [Page 193]dished up between a pair of clean Sheets, soon after the Bridegroom follow'd, go­ing to act Curtius's Story, and leap alive into a Gulf. Let others envy his fine Equipage, and Brace of Footmen, that think it worth the while; as for me, I shall always pity the Wretch, who, to fill his Guts at Noon, obliges himself to work in a Mine all Night. A poor Knight of Alsatia, that Dines upon good whol­some Air in the Temple-Walks, is a Prince to him.

I met Lisanio this Morning at the Rain-bow, and whether 'twas his Pride, or Ill-humour, since Marriage, I can't tell; but he looked as grum as a Fanatick that fancies himself to be in the State of Grace. I have read somewhere, that the Great Mogul weighs himself once a Year, and that the Courtiers rejoyce or grieve, ac­cording as the Royal Body increases or diminishes. I wonder why some of our Nice Beaux, that are married, don't do the like, to know exactly what depreda­tions a Spouse makes upon the Body Na­tural. As for Lisanio, I wou'd advise him never to do it, because if he wastes proportionably to what he has done this [Page 194]Week, a Skeleton will out-weigh him by the Year's End. But this is not half the Mortification that a Man must expect, who, to shew his Courage, ventures up­on a Widow. Tho' he mounts the Guard every Night, and wears out his Carcase in her Service, till at last, like Withering­ton, in the Ballad, he fights upon his Stumps, yet he's never thank'd for his Pains; but labours under the same ill Cir­cumstances with a King that comes after one that is depos'd, for he's sure to be told of his Predecessor upon all occasions. The second Temple at Jerusalem, was, with­out question, a Noble Structure, and yet we find the Old Fellows wept, and shook their Heads at it: Every Widow is so far a Jew in her Heart, that as long as the World lasts, the second House will fall short of the Glory of the first. And in­deed I am apt to imagine the Complaint is just; for a Maid and Widow are two different things; and how can it be ex­pected that a Man shou'd come with the same Appetite to a Second-hand Dish, as he brought with him when it was first serv'd upon the Table?

And now, Mr. Knight, I am upon the Chapter of Widows, give me leave to add a word or two more. A true Widow is as seldom unfurnish'd of an Excuse to marry again, as a true Toper is without an Argument for Drinking. Let it rain or shine, be hot or cold, 'tis all one, a true Son of Bacchus never wants a good Reason to push about the Glass. And so a Widow, if she had a good Husband, thinks her self oblig'd in meer Gratitude to Providence, to venture again; and if he was a bad one, she only tries to mend her hand in a second Choice. It was not so with the People of Athens and Rome. The former had a King that lost his Life in their Quarrel, and they wou'd have no more, because he was too good for them, as the latter, because theirs was an ill one. But Common-wealths, you know, are Whimsical things. I have on­ly one thing more to say, before I have done, which tho' it looks like a Paradox at first sight, yet after you have consider'd a while upon it, I fancy you'll grant to be true: 'Tis in short this, that a Man in the decay of his Vigour, when he begins to mistrust his Abilities, had much better [Page 196]marry a Widow than a Maid: For, as Sir John Suckling has long ago observ'd, a Wi­dow is a sort of Quag-mire, and you know the finest Racer may be as soon founder'd there, as the heaviest Dray-horse. I am

Your most obliged Servant, T. BROWN.

POSTSCRIPT.

I believe I shall see you in the Country, before you hear from me again. Lest I should come down a Barbarian to you Fox­hunters, I have been learning all your noble Terms of Art for this Month; and now, God be prais'd, am a great Proficient in the Language, and can talk of Dogs and Horses half an hour, without committing one Solecism. I have liv'd as sober too all this while, as a Parson that stands Candi­date for a Living, and with this Month's Sobriety in my Belly, design to do Wonders among you in the Country.

To a Gentleman that fell despe­rately in Love, and set up for a Beau, in the 45th Year of his Age.

I Never was a Predestinarian before, but now begin to think better of Ze­no and John Calvin than ever, and to be convinc'd there's a Fatality attends us. What less cou'd have made— once the Gay, the Brave, the Witty (six Months ago I shou'd have added the Wise) at the approach of Gravity, and Gray Hairs, forfeit his Character, fall in Love with Trash, and languish for a Green Codling, that sticks so close to the Stem, that he may sooner shake down the Tree, than the Fruit? 'Tis true, the foolish Hours of our Lives are generally those that give us the greatest share of Pleasure, but yours is so extravagant, so unreason­able a Frolick, that I wonder you don't make your Life all of a piece, and learn at these Years to jump through a Hoop, [Page 198]and practise other laudable Feats of Acti­vity. Oh, what a Conflict there is in your Breast, between Love and Discretion! 'Tis a motly Scene of Mirth and Compassi­on, to see you taking as much pains to conceal your Passion from the prying ma­licious World, as a bashful young Sinner does to hide her Great Belly, and to as lit­tle purpose, for 'twill out.—You must be a Touchwood-Lover, forsooth, and burn without Blaze or Smoak. But why wou'd you feel all the Heat, yet want the Com­forter Light? Such sullen Fires may serve to kindle your Mistress's Vanity, but ne­ver to warm her Heart. Well, Love I find operates with the Grave, like Drink with Cowards, it makes 'em most valiant, when least able. But why's the Hair cut off? Can you dock any Years with it? Or are you the Reverse of Sampson, the stronger for shaving? If so, let me see you shake off these Amorous Fetters to shew your Power. But you are Bucaneering for a Prize, and wou'd surprize a Heart under false Colours. Take my word for't, that Stratagem won't do, for the Pin­nace you design upon, knows you have but a crasie Hulk, in spight of your new Rigging and Careening. Wearing of Per­rukes, [Page 199]like advancing more Standards than there are Troops in an Army, is a stale Artifice, that rather betrays your weakness to the Enemy, than alarms them: For tho' powder'd Vallancee, like Turkish Horse-tails, may at a distance make a Terrible Shew of Strength, yet, my dear Friend, like them too, they are but very unserviceable Weapons at a close Engage­ment. After all, if you're resolv'd to play a French Trick, and wear a Half­shirt in January, to shew your Courage, have a little of the Frenchman's Prudence too, and line it with a Swanskin Wastcoat: That is, if you must needs at this Age make Love, to shew your Vigour, take care to provide store of Comforters to sup­port your Back.

The Answer.

WEll, but heark you, Friend Harry! And do you think now that forty Years (if a Man shou'd ever come to it) is as fumbling a doting Age in Love, as Dryden says it is in Poetry? Why then, what will become of Thee, who hast made such wicked Anticipations upon thy Na­ture's Revenue, that thou art utterly non­solvent to any Matrimonial Expectations? Thou that in thy Post-haste of Town-Riot and Excess, overleapest all the Mea­sures of Time, and art got to be Fifty in Constitution, before thy Age writes Thir­ty! Enjoy thy acquir'd Jubilee, accord­ing to thy wonted Course, but be assur'd no Body will ever be able to enjoy thee. The Woman-Prodigals, feed upon Husks, when they have any thing to do with thee, thou empty'd, raky, dry Bones. My Rheumatical Person, as such, will be al­low'd some Moisture, and Gray Hairs on­ly tell you, the Sap is gone down to the Root, where it shou'd be, and from whence [Page 201]thine has been long since exhausted into every Strumpets Cavern about the Sub­urbs; confound your Widows, and put your own Farthing Candle, lighted at both Ends, under one of their Bushels, if you please: I find I have Prowess enough for the best Maidenhead in Town, and resolve to Attempt nothing under that Honour­able Difficulty. And so much for the Women—

To his Honour'd Friend, Doctor BAYNARD, at the Bath.

My Dear DOCTOR,

I Have not writ to you these two Months, for which I expect to be se­verely reprimanded by you, when you come to Town. And yet why shou'd you wonder at such a poor Fellow as I am, for being backward in my Pay­ments, if you consider 'tis the Case of Lombard-street, nay of the Bank, and the Exchequer it self (you see I support my self by very honourable Examples) at this present melancholy juncture, when, with a little alteration of Mr. Cowley's Words, a Man may truly say,

Nothing of Ready Cash is found,
But an Eternal Tick goes round.

However, to make you some amends for so long a Delay, I come to visit you now, like Noah's Dove, with an Olive-branch in my Mouth; that is, in plain [Page 203] English, I bring you news of a Peace, of a firm, a lasting, and a general Peace (for after this merry rate our Coffee-house Politicians talk) and pray do but con­sider, if it were only for the Pleasure of such an Amusement, what will be the happy Effect of it.

In the first place, this Peace will soon beget good store of Money, (the want of which, though we are sinful enough in all Conscience, is yet the most Crying Sin of the Nation) and this Money will naturally end in a great deal of Riot and Intemperance; and Intemperance will be­get a jolly Race of brave Diseases, with new Names and Titles; and then, My dear Doctor, you Physicians will have a Blessed Time on't.

As for the Lawyers, who, were it not for two or three Noble Peers, some of their Never-failing Clergy-Friends, a few well-dispos'd Widows, and stirring Sol­licitors, that keep up the Primitive Dis­cipline of Westminster-hall, wou'd per­fectly forget the Use of their Lungs, they too will see glorious Days again. I was told a Melancholy Story t'other Day of two hopeful young Attorneys, who, up­on the general Decay of their Profession, [Page 204]were glad to turn Presbyterian Divines; and that you'll say is a damn'd Time in­deed, when Lawyers are forc'd to turn Peace-makers. But as the World grows richer, People will recover by degrees out of this State of Laziness; Law Suits will multiply, and Discord make as splendid a Figure in the Hall as ever. Head­strong Squires will Rebel against their Lady Mothers, and the Church no longer connive at the abominable Sacrilege of Tythe-Pigs and Eggs converted to Lay Uses.

And then, as for the honest Good-fel­lows of the Town, whose Souls have mourn'd in Secret, ever since the un­righteous Abdication of Claret; how will they rejoyce to see their old Friend sold at Twelve-pence a Quart again? What matter of Joy will it be to his Ma­jesty's Liege-People, that they can get drunk with half the Cost, and conse­quently with half the Repentance next Morning? This will in a particular man­ner revive the drooping Spirits of the City Sots; for nothing goes so much against a true Cheapside Conscience, as an expensive Sin. As times go now, a young­er Brother can hardly peep into a Tavern [Page 205]without entailing a Week's Sobriety up­on himself; which, considering what Oc­casion there may be to drink away the Publick and Private Calamities, is a sad Mortification. Wine indeed is grown a sullen Mistress, that will only be enjoy'd by Men of some Fortune, and not by them neither, but upon Solemn Days; so that if these wicked Taxes continue, Canary it self, tho' a Confederate of ours, is like to meet the Fate of condemn'd Criminals, to return to the dismal Place from whence it came, an Apothecary's Shop; and to be distributed about by discreet Nurses in the Primitive sneaking Gill. 'Tis true, the Parliament, as it became those to whom the People had delegated their Power, thought to ob­viate these grievances, by the Six-penny Act, and laying a Five hundred Pound Fine upon Cellar Adultery; but the Vint­ners (an impudent Generation) broke through these Laws as easily as if they had been Senators themselves; nay, had the Boldness to raise new Exactions up­on the Subject: This obliged one half of the Town, at least, to come down a Story lower, and take up with dull Eng­lish Manufacture, so that half our Wit [Page 206]lies buried in execrable Flip, or fulsome Nottingham. To this may be ascribed all those Phlegmatick, Sickly Composi­tions, that have loaded of late both the Theatres, most of which puny Butter-prints, like Children begot by Pockey Parents, were scarce able to endure the Christening; and others, with mighty pains and difficulty, lived just long e­nough (a Methuselah's Age!) to be Crown'd with Damnation on the third Day. But when Money circulates mer­rily, and Claret is to be had at the old Price, a new Spirit will appear abroad, Wit and Mirth will shake off their Fet­ters; and Parnassus, that has made such heavy returns of late Years, will trade considerably. It would be too tedious to reckon up all the other Advantages that the Kingdom will receive by this joyful Turn of the Scene; but there are some behind, which I must not omit, because the Publick is so nearly concern'd in them. We have a World of Married Men now, that, to save Charges, take St. Paul's Advice in the Literal Sence; and, having Wives, live as if they had none at all, and so defraud both them and the Government; but upon the hap­py [Page 207]Arrival of Peace, they'll vigorously set their Hands to the Plough again, and the Stale Batchelors too will find Encou­ragement to marry, and leave behind them a pious Race of Fools, that, within these Twenty Years, will be ripe to be knock'd in the Head, in Defence of the Liberty of the Subject, and the Prote­stant Religion.

We hear there's such a thing as New Money in the City, but it only visits the Elect, for the Generality of People are such Reprobates to the Government, that they may sooner get God's Grace, than a Mill'd Crown Piece. To inflame our Reckoning, tho' there's so little Sil­ver stirring in the Nation, that Dr. Cham­berlain is in greater hopes than ever of making his Paper-project take, yet the World was never so unseasonably scru­pulous. What an Usurer wou'd have leap'd at in King Charles's Time, our ve­ry Porters now reject; which is full as ridiculous, as if in the present Difficulty of raising Recruits, a Captain shou'd resolve to take no Men, but such as were eight Foot high; or a Gentleman in the last Ebb of his Fortune, when he can scarcely pay for Small-beer, shou'd then, [Page 208]and never before, fall in Love with Champagne. The last Year we had Mo­ney enough, such as it was, merrily Cir­cumcised, the Lord knows, however it made a shift to find us Wine and Harlots: Now 'tis all silenc'd, and in the room of it, (but that too, will soon suffer Cir­cumcision) Faith passes for current, and never was there a Time of more Uni­versal Chalk, since the Apostolical Ages. This, among other Evils, cannot but have an ill Effect, My dear Doctor, upon the Gentlemen of your Profession; for People at present, are so taken up with the Publick Transactions, or their own Losses, that they have no Leisure, or are so poor, that they have no fancy to be Sick. The generality of those that are, Christen a Distemper as they do Ship­wracks in Cornwall, by the Name of God's Blessing, and tho' a Legion of Dis­eases invest them, don't think it worth the while to send for a Physician to raise the Siege: If they do, 'tis for none of the College, 'tis for some Half-Crown Chirurgeon, who has cheated the World into an Opinion of his Skill, by putting Greek into his Sign, or for a Twelve-penny Seventh Son, that preaches on [Page 209]Horseback in the Streets; hut in the Case of Chronical Diseases, Let the World rub, is the general Language. Men put off the mending of their Bodies, as they do of Ill-tenanted Cottages, till they have Money to spare. There's a Vene­rable Bawd in Covent-garden, that had her Windows demolish'd last Shrove-Tuesday, and she won't repair them nei­ther, till there's a General Peace.

I believe no Body in the Nation will be averse to it, but only our Friends in Red, and these find their Account so vi­sibly in the continuance of the War, that if they ever pray, which, I believe, is but seldom, we must excuse 'em if 'tis against that Petition, Da pacem, Domine, in diebus nostris. Some of 'em quitted Cook upon Littleton, and some aban­don'd other Stations to go into the Ser­vice; and these upon a Change of Af­fairs, must either turn Padders upon A­pollo's, or the King's High-road, and ei­ther turn Authors, or Grands Voleurs, in their own Defence. But Paul's will be built in a short time; and then a Low-Country Captain will make as busie a Figure in the middle Isle, as ever his Predecessors did in the Days of Ben. [Page 210]Johnson. Some of them may fight over the Battels of Steenkirk and Landen in Ordinaries, or demonstrate how Na­mur was taken, by scaling the walls of a Christmas Pye; and others set up Fen­cing-Schools, to instruct the City Youth. The latter, indeed will act most natu­rally: For I observe, that when People are forc'd to change their Professions, they keep to 'em as nigh as they can, tho' they act in a lower Sphere: So, for instance, a batter'd Harlot makes a dis­creet Bawd; and a broken Cutler, an ex­cellent Grinder of Knives. As for the Poets, I believe they are the most indif­ferent Men in the Kingdom, as to what happens: They have lost nothing by the French Privateers, since the Revolu­tion; nor are like to do, if the War lasts Seven Years longer, so it may be suppo­sed they will not be angry to see the on­ly Calumny of their Profession, I mean their Poverty made universal; and in­deed, if to pay People with fair words, and no Performance, be Poetical, there's more Poetry in Grocers-Hall, than in Par­nassus it self.

But, My dear Doctor, after all this mighty Discourse of a Peace, for my [Page 211]part, I shou'd believe as little of it, as I do of most of Mr. Aubrey's Apparition Stories, but that we have not Money enough to carry on this great Law-Suit much longer, (for in effect War is no other, only you must fee more Coun­cil, and give greater Bribes) and the Lord have mercy, say I, on a Man that Sues, or a Prince that fights for his Right in Forma pauperis. This, and nothing but this, makes me imagine we shall have a Peace, and not the Christian Piety of one or t'other side. And to say the truth, half the Vertue in the World, if traced to the Cradle, will be found to be the lawful Issue of meer Necessity. People lay aside their Vices, to which their Vertues succeed, just as they do their Cloaths, sometimes when they are Unfashionable, but generally when they are worn Thread-bare, and will hang about them no longer. A Godly Rascal of the City leaves off Cheating, when the World will trust him no longer; and a Rakehell turns Sober, when his Purse fails, or his Carcase leaves him in the Lurch: And lastly, which word, I don't doubt, sounds as comfortably to you, as ever it did to a hungry Sinner [Page 212]in a long-winded Church; 'tis for want of more Paper, more Ink, and more Candle, that I persecute you no longer, who am

Your most humble Servant, T. BROWN.

To Mr. RAPHSON, Fellow of the Royal Society.

I Send you by the Bearer hereof, Mr. Aubrey's Book, that you have so much long'd to see: 'Tis a Collection of Omens, Voices, Knockings, Apparitions, Dreams, &c. which, whether they are agreeable to your System of Theology, I cannot tell. And now I talk of Dreams, I have often wonder'd how they came to be in such request in the East: Whether their Imaginations in those hot Coun­tries are more rampant than ours, or whether the Priesthood, for their own ends, cultivated this Superstition in the People, which I am rather inclin'd to believe; yet 'tis certain, that Affairs of the last Consequence, have been deter­min'd by them. An Interpreter of Dreams, was, in some sort, a Minister of State in those Nations; and an Eastern King cou'd no more be without one of that Profession in his Court, than an Eu­ropean Prince without his Chaplain, or Confessor, Homer too, the Father of the [Page 214] Bards, had a great Veneration for Dreams. [...]. He makes them all Jure Divino, you see; had he liv'd in Archbishop Laud's Time, he cou'd not have said more for Monarchy, or Epi­scopacy. If you can pardon this foolish Digression, (for which I can plead no other Excuse than the Dog-days) I have something of another nature to com­municate to you, which I am confident will highly please a Gentleman of your Curiosity.

Dr. Connor, of the College of Physi­cians, and Fellow of the Royal Society, hath now publish'd in Latin, his Evange­lium Medici, seu Medicina Mystica de Suspen­sis Naturae Legibus, sive de Miraculis. He designs in this Book to shew by the Prin­ciples of Reason and Physick; as likewise by Chymistry and Anatomy, that the Na­tural State of any Body can never be so much over-turn'd, or the Scituation of its parts so extreamly alter'd, but it may be conceiv'd in our Mind. He treats of Organical Bodies, and the Human in particular: But because some Persons, who never gave themselves the Trouble, to be fully informed of what he means, have been pleas'd to censure his Under­taking [Page 215]as very Extravagant, I have his leave to lay open his Tenets before you, who are own'd by all that know you, to be so great a Master in all parts of Learn­ing, and chiefly the Mathematical. Now the chief Heads of the Matters that he treats of, are as follows.

  • I. Of the Nature of a Body, particular­ly an Organical one, where the Structure and Natural State of the Human Body is ex­plain'd.
  • II. How many ways the Natural State of the Human Body, is said to have been Super­naturally alter'd.
  • III. Of the Laws of Motion, and of the three different Suspensions of the same, in or­der to explain all Miracles.
  • IV. How it can be conceiv'd, that Water can be changed into Wine.
  • V. How it can be conceiv'd, that a Hu­man Body can be Invulnerable, Immortal, and can live for ever without Meat, as after the Resurrection.
  • VI. How a Human Body can be conceived to be in a Fire without burning.
  • VII. How we can conceive that an Army can pass through the Sea without drowning, or walk upon the Water without Sinking.
  • [Page 216]VIII. How it can be conceived, that a Man can have a Bloody Sweat.
  • IX. Of the different ways a Human Body can come into the World; where is given an Account of its Generation by Concourse of Man and Woman.
  • X. How we can conceive a Human Body can be form'd of a Woman without a Man, as Christ 's.
  • XI. How to conceive a Human Body to be made without Man or Woman, as Adam 's.
  • XII. How to conceive a Human Body dead, some Ages since, to be brought to Life again, as in the Resurrection.
  • XIII. How many ways it cannot be con­ceiv'd, that a Human Body can he Intire and Alive in two places at the same time.
  • XIV. Of the Natural State of the Soul, and its Influence upon the Body.
  • XV. Of the Supernatural, or Miraculous State of the Soul united to the Body.

The Doctor desires, and I'm sure you'll own 'tis a very reasonable Request, that Gentlemen wou'd be pleas'd to suspend their Judgments, till they see his Reasons, which he will ingenuously submit, with­out any Presumption on his side, to their better Undestanding. He is the more [Page 217]encouraged to publish his Thoughts a­bout these Matters, because some of his Friends, to whom he has communicated his Reasons, have told him, That none but such as will not rightly understand him, (and People of that Complexion are ne­ver to be convinc'd) cou'd deny what he maintains; because his Reasons are not grounded upon any Metaphysical Abstract, or Hypothetical Notions, but entirely upon the visible Structure of the Humane Body. When your Affairs will permit you to come to London, you and I will take an Opportunity to wait upon the Doctor, who I know will give you what farther Satisfaction you can desire.

And now, Mr. Raphson, I hope you have finish'd in your Country Retire­ment, your Treatise de Spatio Infinito, Reali, which the Learn'd World has so long expected from your Hands. All your Friends here earnestly long to see you in Town, and particularly my self, who am

Your most Obliged Friend and Servant, T. BROWN.

TWO LETTERS BY CAPT. AYLOFFE.

To the Lord North and Grey.

My LORD,

YOU seem to wonder, what shou'd be the reason that Men in Mat­ters of Gallantry, generally have incurr'd the Censure of Inconstancy, when Women prove Faithful even to an Inconveniency. One reason I believe is, that we hate to be long confin'd, and their Conversation soon palls; tho' what may be assign'd, with greater plausibleness, I think is, that those very Favours a Wo­man grants to her Lover, increase and continue her Affection, but withal lessen his. Mens Passion almost always extin­guish [Page 219]with Possession; and what is the Parent of a Woman's Tenderness is the Paricide of ours: We seldom adore lon­ger than we desire, and what we aim at most can be conferr'd but once. In our Sex there is not that fatal Distinction: but as a Virgin, after yielding, has dis­possess'd her self of that Jewel, which e­very one was willing to have purchas'd, and only courted her for. I believe the De­monstrations of Love from Women, are more real than ours; there being too fre­quently more of Vanity than Verity, more of Study than Affection in our Pretences: But it's no small wound in a Woman's Heart, that constrains her to speak, and I really am of Opinion, that she can hardly love more violently, who confesses she loves at all. A word sometimes drops from their Mouths, which, as it was un­design'd, gives a clearer Evidence of a growing Inclination, than all the Elabo­rate Actions and Affected Languishings, the greatest part of Gallants put in pra­ctice. A Lovely Face is certainly the most agreeable Object our Eyes can be­hold, and the very Sound of the Voice of one we dearly love, is beyond the softest Harmony: Yet, by I know not what [Page 220]Fate, I have seen the Juncture when both were without any effect, and this more than once. The Latitude (I fancy) which we take in our Addresses, makes the Impression but feeble: Variety of Objects distracts the Choice, and we con­serve our Liberty, while we are pitch­ing upon a Tyrant. The Indulgence of one Woman, who is not extreamly charming, makes some sort of Repara­tion for the slighted Vows we vainly of­fer'd to a cruel Beauty. Few Men are so much in Love, as to be Proof against the continued Scorn of the most agreeable Phillis: We ask to obtain, not to be de­ny'd; and that can find the same Satisfa­ction in every place, will hardly be long confin'd to any one. Not but that Wo­men, speaking generally, are not so perfi­dious as Men; and it is Injustice, are well as Malice in us, to treat 'em as we do. They deserve really more than Policy will permit us to shew 'em they do.

Your Lordship's humble Servant, AYLOFFE.

To a Friend in the Country.

YOU have now, at length, left scour­ing the Watch, and teizing the Ex­change-women, bid adieu to Bourdeaux, and taken up with Barrel-ale. You are all the Morning galloping after a Fox; all the Evening in a smoaky Chim­ny-corner, recounting whose Horse leap'd best, was oftenest in with the Dogs, and how readily Lightfoot hit the cooling Scent, and reviv'd your drooping Spi­rits with a prospect of more Diversion; which some Men, who think themselves as wise in the Enjoyment of this World, as all the Men in Oxfordshire, are pleas'd to term meer fatigue. And I believe your own Footman would not ride so far and so hard, to fetch a good Dinner, as both of you do, to see the Death of a stinking Beast. Has not the Rose as good Accommodation as your Catherine-wheel Inn? And does not a Masque give a more Christian-like chase, and conclude in more satisfaction than the Animal you wot of? I saw your Letters to some of [Page 222]our Club, and laugh'd not a little at the strangeness of your Style; it smelt of fil­thy Tobacco, and was stain'd with your dropping Tankard. You acquainted 'em at large with the Scituation of your Man­sion-house; how a knot of branching Elms defended it from the North-wind; that the South-Sun gave you good Grapes, and most sort of Wall-fruits; your Me­lons came on apace, and you had hopes of much good Fruit this Summer. After all, in Covent-garden Market, we can buy, in one quarter of an Hour, better Plants than your's, and richer Melons, for Groats apiece, than you have been poring over this three Months. You thank'd 'em for some News, that was so old we hardly could imagine what you meant, till Tom, who has all the Gazets and Pamphlets lock'd up in his Heart, as David did the Commandments, disclos'd the Mystery to us. I pity your new State indeed: Your Gazets are as stale as your Drink; which, tho' brew'd in March, is not broach'd till December. The chief Topicks of Discourse, (for Conversation you have none) are Hawks, Horses, and Hounds; every one of 'em as much God's Image, as he that keeps them, and glori­fies [Page 223]the Creator in a greater degree, and to more purpose. This you call a season­able retreat from the Lewdness of London, to enjoy a Calm and Quiet Life: Heaven knows, you drink more there, and more ignoble and ungenerous Liquors than we in Town; for yours is down-right Drink­ing: Your Whoring I will allow safer, but it is meer Brutality too; there is no such thing as Intrigue in all your County, which is like an exquisite Sawce to good Meat, qualifying the Palate more vo­luptuously: Well, 'tis Six, and I must to the Club, where we will pity your So­litude, and drink your Prosperity, in a Cup that is worth a Stable of Horses, and a Kennel of Hounds. So adieu.

The End of the First Volume.

PLAYS, lately printed for, and sold by Richard Wellington.

  • PLain-dealer.
  • Triumphs of Virtue
  • Town Fop.
  • Plot, and no Plot.
  • Ganterbury Guest.
  • State of Innocence.
  • Richmond Heiress.
  • Rival Ladies.
  • Abdelazor, or the Moor's Revenge.
  • London Cuckolds.
  • Wild Gallant.
  • Ibrahim 13. Emperour.
  • Libertine.
  • Love for Money.
  • Oedipus.
  • Debauchee, or Credu­lous Cuckold.
  • Don Carlos.
  • Marriagehater Match'd
  • Sacrifice, a Tragedy.
  • Unnatural Brother.
  • Spanish Wives.
  • Love's Last-shift.
  • Trick to cheat the Devil.
  • Love in Ruines.
  • Innocent Mistress.
  • Rule a Wife, and have a Wife.
  • City Heiress, or Sir Ti­mothy Treat-all.
  • Sir Anthony Love, or The Rambling Lady.
  • Younger Brother, or The Amorous Jilt▪
  • Oroonoko.
  • Country Wake.
  • Old Bachelor.
  • Humorous Lieutenant
  • Country Wife.
  • Princess of Cleves▪
  • Anatomist, or Sham Doctor.
  • Round-heads, or The Good Old Cause▪
  • Young King, or The Mistake.
  • Rover, or Banish'd Cavalier▪
  • Caligula, by Mr. Crown.
  • Relapse, or Vertue in Danger▪
  • Don Quixot, in Two Parts.
  • Empress of Morocco.
  • True Widow.
  • Cheats.
  • Agnes de Castro.
  • Provok'd Wife.

Books printed for, and sold by R. Wellington.

THe History of Polybius the Megalopolitan, containing an Account of the Transacti­ons of the whole World, but principally of the Roman People, in 3 Vol. translated by Sir Henry Sheers and Mr. Dryden, the like never before ex­tant: Price ten Shillings.

A Discourse of the Nature and Faculties of Man, in several Essays, with some Considera­tions on the Occurrences of Human Life; by Tim. Nourse, Gent. price 4 Shillings.

The History and Novels of the late Ingenious Mrs. Behn▪ collected into one Vol. viz. Oroonoko, or The Royal Slave: The Fair Jilt, or Prince Tar­quin: Agnes de Castro, or The Force of Generous Love: The Lover's Watch, or the Art of Make­ing Love: The Ladies Looking-glass to dress themselves by: The Lucky Mistake: Memoirs of the Court of the King of Bantam: The Nun, or the Perjur'd Beauty: The Adventures of the Black Lady. These 3 never before publish'd, to­gether with her Life and Memoirs, written by one of the Fair Sex; interwoven with several Love-Letters, which passed beeween her and Myn Heer Van Bruin, a Dutch Merchant, the the Edition enlarged; price 5 Shillings.

A brief and easy Method to understand the Ro­man History, with an exact Chron. of the Reign of the Emperors, and an Account of the most Eminent Authors, when they flourish'd; and an Abridgement of Roman Antiquities and Cu­stoms, by way of Dialogue, for the use of the Duke of Burgundy: Done out of French, with large Additions, by Mr. Tho. Brown; price two Shillings.

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