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Loveday's LETTERS Domeſtick and Forrein. TO SEVERAL PERSONS, Occaſionally diſtributed in SUBJECTS Philoſophicall, Hiſtoricall & Morall,

By R. LOVEDAY Gent. the late Tranſlator of the three firſt parts of Cleopatra.

Optimae ſunt Literae quae in lucem prodeunt, proſunt & penetrant.

Caſſan.

LONDON, Printed by J. G. for Nath. Brook, at the Angel in Corn-hill, 1659.

[portrait of Robert Loveday, fl. 1655 (?)]

Lucid amant

Pour Relever

For my Friend Mr. A. L.

SIR,

I Received yours, deſiring my advice for the pub­liſhing of your Brothers Letters. Truly Sir, I ſhould be very ungrateful to him, unkind to my ſelf, and injurious to others, if I ſhould diſſwade you from offering thoſe to the publick, which in the communication may be pleaſurable to all. Many of them being written to my ſelf, and the reſt (as I ſup­poſe) to his correſpondents, tis poſſible that in ſome of them the freedom of his Pen, and Intereſt with the perſon to whom he writ, might in ſome places make his expreſſions not ſo compact, or ſo clear, as the critical Peruſer expects. But doubtleſs he knew what he writ at the time when he writ, but was not ob­liged to circumſcribe his fancy, either to his own con­tinuing, or the Readers tranſitory underſtanding: yet meeting with one indued with a reaſonable kindneſs and temper, he will find nothing but what may be interpreted without any Interpreters. I remember there were ſome other paſſages in ſome of them, con­cerning the Tranſactions of that age wherein he writ: ſubjects too ſubtile for a private Pen, I wiſh them ra­ther expung'd then expos'd; for (beſides the danger of treading upon the heels of truth) there is State, that connexion between the ſecrets and acts of State, that we (as private perſons) cannot, ought not, to cenſure one, unleſſe we knew the other. There are ſo many neceſſary miſts caſt before our eyes, ſo many umbrages before the light, that it were more ſafe for us to draw our Curtains, and take a nap, then to ſearch about (as Diogenes with his Lanthorn and Candle) to find out truth.

We are ſo partiall in our Intereſts and ſelf-concern­ments, either of mind or body, or both, that moſtly we account thoſe things neither good, rationall nor commodious, which do not concur in all circumſtan­ces with our intire judgement, or individuall advan­tage.

I wiſh I had leiſure to peruſe the whole Packet, be­fore you ſent them to the publick; but in earneſt, Sir, I cannot ſpare ſo much time from my Intruſtments. It is my deſire therefore that you will adviſe with ſuch friends as have an affection to his repute; and if they be of my acquaintance, tell them (as an incouragement to their expenſe of time) my opinion is (ſo farre as I retain the memory of them, and I believe the reſt are ſuitable) that they are very choice deſcants, Theologi­call, Ethicall, facetious and ſolid. The volatile part ſhewing the art of the Chymiſt, as the fixt matter: there is ſomething to pleaſe all Tempers, maſculine and feminine, martial and civil, curiall and rurall, ſaty­rick and amorous: and I doubt not but if he had lived the compleating of his Tranſlation of Cleopatra, or Loves Maſter-piece, I know not whether he would have done greater right to France or England, by making French Engliſh, or Engliſh French: the accompliſhments of his Pen therein were ſo clear and genuine, as if his private had conſulted with the publick Genius of both Nations: however, I dare ſay, by accuſtoming his Pen to theſe, and things of an higher nature, he would have proved an Engliſh Balzack.

I confeſſe I wiſh we were reſtated in our primitive Innocency, when all our actions were naked, and yet not aſhamed; and when our thoughts were imparted either by an univerſal Character, or the harmleſs Hieroglyphick of a Dove or a Lamb; but now how are we involved in the perplexities of our ſcribling! So that well may the word Litera be etymologiz'd Litis aera, the Epoche, or beginning of all contentions; we began modeſtly with the bark and rind of Trees, till the fol­lowing ages having thus deſtroyd their ſhady Groves, tore the skins from harmleſſe ſheep, that their impure Volumes might be countenanc't by thoſe innocent Velumes; and not contented to deprive theſe creatures of their intire ſepultures, they have perverted their bodies to gluttony, and their skins to impoſtures; and the latter Age hath even robb'd the poor of their raggs, torturing them with Mills and other Engines, till in paper they are made Legatives to moſt of our humane affairs; and no ſooner are they fitted with the colour of innocency, white, but compounds of poiſons, Vitriol, Gall, and Vi­neger (emblemes of commotion) do again die them with the ſad and ſable tincture, which occaſions ſo much diſorder and unquiet to the World.

And now at laſt we ſeem diſtracted with the num­ber & weight of devices, ſo that an Index Expurgatori­us hath been practiſed by the learned, and more fierce­ly executed (without diſtinction) by the inrodes of the ignorant.

Yet Seneca's and Cicero's Epiſtles have eſcap't, may Loveday's have the ſame ſucceſſe and eſtimate; and then after-ages will not blame me for incouraging you to their expoſure, eſpecially if they pleaſe to read and imitate his leiſurable imployment.

I ſhall onely add this (being diverted by ſome o­ther approaches) that I well knew your Brother vali­ant, faithful, and diſcreetly induſtrious in all the con­cernments of body and mind. I was his Friend, and am

Yours, J. PETTUS.

To his Honoured Couſins, Mr. William Crow of London, and Mr. Antho. Loveday of Cheſton.

Honoured Couſins,

YOu being the top-branches of thoſe two Families from whence the deceaſed Authour of theſe Epiſtles had his deſcent, and thereby having a genuine propriety in them, it were unnaturall, by way of Dedicati­on, to put them under the umbrage and protection of any other. He had many Teſtimonies of your affection whileſt living, and I know you retain his memory not unſuitable: they therefore incounter the Eye of the ingenuous Reader, under the patro­nage and conduct of your names. Ac­cept the tender of them as a pledge of my reall affection; and if ever Providence ſmile me into a capacity of dreſsing my power in a more be­coming attire, I ſhall be ready to ap­prove my ſelf,

Couſin,
Your moſt humble Servant.
Nephew,
Your reall affectionate Uncle, ANTHO. LOVEDAY.

TO THE READER.

Courteous Reader,

THeſe Epiſtles are ralli'd into a body, and expoſed to publick view, in the divulging whereof, neither could the inſtancy of the Authors friends, though their eſtimate had an high influence over me; nor a reliance on my own opinion, fearing leſt it might appear too partial through my near re­lation to the Author, act ſo ſtrongly on me, as to acquieſce to the importunity of their deſires; ſo tender was I of his honour in edition of his labours, till ſuch time, as by the peruſal of perſons of unqueſtioned judgment they were return'd to my hand, highly approved. And of theſe, no inducement more impreſſive nor effi­caciouſly perſwaſive, then the incouragement of a perſon, whoſe judicious pen has ſufficient­ly diſcovered his abilities to the world: by ex­preſſing him, without any other additional delineature, the maſter of a rich Fancy: be­ing generally known to be not onely an appro­ved Profeſſor, but a conſtant Advancer of all humane and divine learning: ſingularly vers'd in both: and whoſe affectionate intimacy to this Author, as it highly obliged him in his life; ſo have his judicious lines conduced no leſs to the perpetuating of his memory after his death. This may appear in the very firſt Letter, which this perſon of honour was plea­ſed to addreſs to me: wherein he has returned with a modeſt candor the opinion he retained touching this ingenious: Author whoſe blame­leſs repute, and fair deportment in the whole progreſs of hislife, mannagement of his affections, and current of his actions ſuperſeded all cen­ſure.

The Author indeed, had a reſolution, if God had lent him life, and enlarged his houres in a parallel line to the apparent progreſſion of his raiſing hopes, "to have ſeen theſe, as they were by him occaſionally compoſed, ſo methodically diſpoſed and completed: and to beſtow a meri­ting addition on his Pen, in ſuch manner poliſh­ed and refined, as they might have clearly diſ­covered the precious quality of that Mine, and purity of his Mind from whence they de­rived their extraction. As for his Pen, give me leave to return that opinion of it, which all men who with recollected thoughts have ſeri­ouſly read him, ingeniouſly retain'd of it: his Stile was ſuch as it knew how to preſent State without affectation; render a modeſt cenſure without bitterneſs, and cloſe the period of his Diſcourſe with incomparable ſweetneſſe. Nei­ther were his parts onely deſerving, his educa­tion and deſcent held an equipage to thoſe Na­tive imbelliſhments. To the ſurviving reputa­tion whereof I ſhall give you this account; He was well deſcended, his education was in the Univerſity of Cambridge, where in his greeneſt years he did not ſhake off the yoak of diſcipline, and devote himſelf to the ſoft blandiſhments of ſenſuality, but was ſedulous to his ſtudy, and 'tis like had atchiev'd ſome ſuitable preferment, had not martial times occurr'd, no friend to Science, and diſturbed his ſtudies; this made him run the ſame fortune with others, who liv'd to ſtudy: were driven to ſtudy to live; for as that pure Italian Wit Petrarch ſometimes ſaidMars his Armory, and Minerva's Meniey, run ſo much upon diviſions, as they ſeldom cloze in a graceful harmony.And thus his determinati­ons were forced to a hait, but his active ſoul mov'd in the Sphere of Virtue, and in thoſe cloudy dayes was pregnant in ſomething that ſtill witneſſed that Virtue was his Miſtriſs, and many ingenious Pieces fell from his Pen, which hereafter may ſee the World, and deſerve thy peruſal (if clear Fancies may ſuit with the conſtitution of cloudy times.) He had acquir'd to himſelf the Italian and French Languages, out of the laſt his Verſion of Cleopatra which he call'd Hymen's Praeludia, the firſt three Parts are extant, and gain'd applauſe: how his Letters will arride thy liking, I know not, do as thou ſhalt find them. So I take my leave, Farewel.

A. L.
Ʋpon Mr. ROBERT LOVEDAY's Effigies.
LOVEDAY, thy feature here by FATHORN drawn,
Though it diſplay his Maſter-piece of Art,
It cannot repreſent the ſmalleſt grain
Of thoſe clear rays of thy diviner part,
The Royal fancies of thy loyal heart;
For thoſe tranſcend the Pencil, and muſt be
No Objects of the Eye but Memory.
Upon the Embleme.
THe Widowed Turtle leaves the flowry Grove
To ſolemnize the Obits of his Love:
Love day he may; but in a ſecret cave
He ſpends each minute on his Spouſes Grave.
And when the Sun his glorious courſe has run,
He addes this Note O muſt Love lie alone!
Since Turtles tears ſuch Obſequies do make,
We ſhould be Niobees all for thy Love-ſake.
For Fame averrs, nere any di'd ſo young
In love more richly ſtor'd, in hopes more ſtrong.
The Emble me explain'd.
LOok on the radiant ſplendor of that Sun;
Look on that Turtle in her Ebon-cave;
Whoſe amorous threed of life wov'n up and ſpun,
Look how her Spouſe bedews his Widdow'd grave:
And in theſe Modells you his Embleme have,
The Turtle of his Bodi's gone to Earth,
The Turtle of his Soul to her firſt Birth.
Nor muſt theſe two divided long remain,
"Eternity ſhall cement them again.
Where theſe Two Turtles with Angelick wings
Shall live, and love, and laud the King of Kings.
Upon the death of his ingenious and much bemoaned friend, Mr. ROBERT LOVEDAY.
COuld pregnant Fancy, Goodneſs, or prompt pen
Have here procur'd thee reſidence with men,
Thou hadſt injoy'd it; But Time held it fit
With Immortality to perfect it:
"The Law of Nature muſt give way to Grace,
" And Grace to Glory, ſhown thee face to face?
If this advantage over-ſtrip not th'reſt,
I ſhall appeal to thoſe who lov'd thee beſt.
But Heav'n and Earth are of a different Clime,
So muſt we hold Eternity and Time.
He who has God, has all: he cannot want,
Though Pilgrim here, there an Inhabitant.
Such is thy glorious ſtate;
Dignum laude virum, Muſa vetat mori, Caelo beat. Hor.
being rankt with thoſe
Whom though we loſe they gain by what we loſe.
LOVEDAY thy Name did to the World diſplay
That all thy
*Tota dies opus extat amans! mirabitur aetas Si mento juvenis mens foret iſta ſenis. Afran.
* Day was Love, thy Love all day.
Both which ſo joyntly in their Centre meet
As they have made Eternity their ſeat.
Never did downy chin more ſage produce,
Nor in his youth nurſe a maturer Muſe.
None more entirely dear unto his own,
Nor higher fam'd where He was leſſer known;
Whereof his Cleopatra witneſs gives,
In which, though dead, his rate Tranſlation lives.
NOr ſhall you finde in theſe Perſwaſives leſs
Then what his rich Romances did expreſs,
In his peruſal he approves them ſuch
Whoſe Brain can judge, or he has read too much.
R. B.
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LOVEDAY's LETTERS.

LETTER I. To Sir I. P.

Sir,

IF I ſin in troubling you with fruit­leſs lines, call it rather the weak­neſs of my judgment then the er­ror of my love, which is in too perfect health to lie ſpeechleſs. The thanks I ow you, I confeſs, are diſparaged by my feeble expreſſions; but could you read their more ſecret character, you ſhould find them dreſt in a more becoming attire. To tell you my beſt wiſhes are Pages to your happy ſucceſs (I hope) were to Tautologize, to your knowledge, at leaſt belief; and though it be no forlorn hope, it ſhall march in the front of my Prayers. For your diſpoſal of me, though I totally relinquiſh my ſelf to your diſcreet commands, yet my humble and earneſt deſires rather aim at the ſer­vice of Sir T.B. then the greater man; however2 I will call my ſelf your Creature, and reſolve to be of that ſhape you will faſhion me: In the mean time I ſhall importune Heaven to furniſh me with ſo happy a power as may render me in ſome acceptable ſervice, Sir, Not onely your faithful, but

Your grateful Servant, R.L.

LETTER II. To Sir. I. P.

Sir,

IF the importunity of your affairs will conſent to a digreſſion, look upon the tender of his true ſervice that was alwayes yours: If my Heart thought my Pen fit to be truſted with thoſe Wiſhes that concern you, I ſhould be more am­ple; but it needs not, for I am confident you can read them at this diſtance. To put you in mind of my deſires were not to deſerve their effects, ſince I believe the intermitted Truce you take with greater imployments, is nobly ſpent in a courteous parley with your friends; more petty occaſions would trouble you, I will therefore bind up my true ſervice in theſe few lines, and reſt

Yours R. L.
3

LETTER III. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Loving Brother,

I Had not failed you laſt Week, if a ſudden command from thoſe whoſe breath can blow me any way, had not arreſted my pen, and im­poſed a leſs pleaſing imployment; for there is no delight I can ſpare with more regret, then theſe occaſions of ſending you my naked thoughts, for Intereſt is now adored with ſuch ſpecious idolatry, that it renders even common converſe dangerous: So the honeſt ſoul that courts good company, muſt find it in his own thoughts; to the ſtock of which your amity contributes no petty ſum: and when the vacancy of imployment relea­ſes me to theſe harmleſs recreations, I endeavour to drop thoſe heavy-moulded cares that ſmell of earth, and fall a pruning the wings of ſome live­ly thoughts; that play like nimble flies in the ſe­renity of an unclouded mind; and amidſt the va­riety of thoſe tasks I impoſe upon them, the principal are diſpatch'd to invite Content to come and dwell in the Valley of my humble Fortunes, and ſport it ſelf upon thoſe banks that are happily purpled with their own vio­lets. Protected thus with a little, methinks I am proud that I have not enough to ſet the Cove­tous4 a deſiring, nor the Ambitious a ſcrambling. Sometime I ſtrive to build Reaſon as high a Tribunal as my thoughts can reare, at the Bar of which I labour to accuſe my own miſcarriages; and had I power to reform, as well as cenſure them, what could affront my felicity? Some­times I reviſe my readings in men, and fall a ſet­ting the beſt Slips my obſervation can cull from others Gardens; but I confeſs few of them grow. Sometimes I prick at the footſteps that books have lately left in my memory; which I find a very weak Conſervatory, and keeps my beſt ob­ſervations but as people uſe to keep choice Po­ſies, freſh for a day or two, and then let them fade and die. Then perhaps I roll my thoughts upon Eternity, and that helps me to deride the folly of thoſe blind Wretches that ſo hotly ſcramble for ſublunary trifles; but withall, pity their miſerable miſtake that run away from the true bleſſings while they purſue the falſe ones. Tis ſport to conſider how Fortune (or rather Providence) builds up theſe creatures (like Scaf­folds for a ſhow) with an intent to pull them down again. Sometimes I am ſo weak to let my fancie ramble after Poetick raptures; but in theſe I onely ſuffer her to aire her wings, and ſo come home again. With theſe agreeable diverſi­ons I often ſend my thoughts a gadding, chiefly to deceive melancholy, which of late has been much incroaching; for my capital trouble in­creaſes,5 and has got a giddineſs to aſſiſt it. I have not yet taken the Phyſick, and now reſolve to defer it till I arrive in the Countrey, which will be about a fortnight hence. If theſe afflictions can ſet me the right way to Heaven, eſpecially as it is now perplexed with ſo many oblique, de­vious pathes of Error and Hereſie, I ſhall hug them heartily. I ſhould excuſe this unravelling my Contemplations in ſuch a ruffled manner, but I uſe curioſity to thoſe that have a leſs ſhare of my affection then your ſelf, &c.

Your entirely affectionate Brother to command, R. L.

LETTER IV. To Mr. W.

My deareſt Friend,

THIS happy night I received your laſt Let­ter, which how I took, I wiſh ſome good thing above Man would tell you, for I cannot. Onely this, the delights and joyes which are dandled by the World were baſe and droſſie to what that brought me, which is onely leſs pure then thoſe that make the Angels clap their wings. It has given me a happy, but a hard task; Tis to let an Ocean through a Quill, for tis the ſame difficulty for my Pen to expreſs what my6 heart meanes you. Methinks I would faine ſay ſomething to you that is not ordinary; but I can find no words that I do not ſuſpect too faint to fit my affection: onely this, I do not love you the common way, nor with ſuch a kindneſſe as doth uſually blaze with the freſh reſentment of a benefit, and learne to coole and dye again, unleſſe it be renew'd with the ſame repeated fuell: but I have an affection for you that is of the ſame piece with my ſoul, as immortall and undecaying as it ſelf, and will go along with it to the other world, and need not be aſham'd even there to own its object. The buſie waves that roll betwixt us cannot keep me from you; for tis with you I ſpend my gladdeſt hours. When I ſet my thoughts to caſt up the account of my large poſſeſſions in you, I deride the poor rich ones of this Age, and ſay, Sure if they knew the right way they would leave the purſuit of their glorious follies, & learne to get a virtuous friend. But pardon my tranſport. Preſent me cordially to your excellent friend; and intreat him to write me in the number of his faithfull ſervants, for I cannot be leſſe to him that is ſo to you: tell him I will allow him the better roome in your breaſt, ſo he not grudge me a harbour there; to be expel'd which, would gall my heart-ſtrings. No perplexities aſſault it but what you help to beat off; no vexations pierce it to which a re­flection upon my intereſt in you does not7 prove a Dictamnum, and ejects thoſe arrowes be ſure then you be precious to your ſelf, and re­gard your health, that you may ſtil be ſo to thoſe that love you; and then you muſt be ſo. But I fear I grow tedious, though I have not ſpoke halfe what I would fain ſay; but the reſt ſhall be refer'd to my next. Well then, conceive I im­brace you at this diſtance, for all but my clay does. May you arrive at ſo happy a condition that you may pitty your enemies, and enjoy that ſere­nity of ſoul that may make you ſo skilfull in vir­tue; and be aſſured, that bate but heaven, & there is nothing ſo dear as your ſelf to him that is

Sir,
Abſolutely yours, R. L.

LETTER V. To Mr. R. C.

Dear Robin,

IF variety of new acquaintance (and more deſerving,) has not conſpir'd with the buſie fingers of Time to deface my memory, there will not be much toile in the taske to provoke thee to revive our friendly intercourſe; to which thou art challeng'd by one whoſe heart has kept the impreſſe thou left'ſt upon it as freſh and as able to bid defiance to decay, as8 when our contract was firſt ſeal'd. Ah Robin! whither is fled the beauty of thoſe daies that ſo oft ſaw us feed our felicity with the mutuall chareſſes of our ſpotleſſe amity? when the ſoft whiſpers of an evening Zephyrus ſummon'd us to thoſe innocent incounters in Silvanus grove, where ſo oft we unbuttond our ſoules, and talk'd our naked thoughts, as if the golden Age had got new birth in our boſomes. Sure Heaven was pleas'd with that lovely undreſt vi­ſage of our heedleſſe ſimplicity. Doſt remember how the pretty little feather'd minſtrels, came and gave us three or four of natures choiſeſt Leſſons? and then how we hung together? and have many loth adues it took to part us, though the next day we were to meet again? How For­tune has uſ'd thee ſince our laſt long Farewell I know not; to me her indifferent behaviour neither ſwel'd my hopes to an opinion that ever ſhe intends to make me her darling, nor frown'd them to the neer neighbour hood of cold de­ſpaire, &c.

R. L.
9

LETTER VI. To his Nephew. A. L.

Dear Coſin,

I Had long ſince payed the debt of my promiſe, had Fame furniſhed me with ought but falſe coine: ſhe is growne a new-faſhion'd jugler, puts tricks upon us with a deceptio auditus, various reports here like Canons receive their birth and funerall in the aire, and are often ſhorter­liv'd; ſome voyc'd like Trumpets ſpread a ſhrill preſage of war; others, like the ſoft war­bling of the amorous Lute, perfume the aire with the aromatick tidings of repeated peace: and thus our erroneous ſoules weakly pay a cre­dulous homage to the alternate dominion of our own hopes and feares. Rumour is a cheating lottery, from which for one prize of a truth we draw a thouſand blanks of falſhood I could make this paper look big with the ſwelling pride of ſuch newes as would be muſick to your eares; but leſt the tune ſhould prove Syrenicall, I am loth to deceive you into falſe joyes. That which has moſt credit with me, except the K. &c. Thus I have given you probabillties, befriend­ed, though not defended, by the moſt prudent opinions I could encounter with. Could I give you the truth ſtrip'd of all partiality and diſ­guiſes, ſhe were worth the owning; but her run­ning10 through ſo many relations makes her change attire every ſtep, and ſometimes loſe her ſelf. But in this aſſertion be aſſur'd ſhe weares her own face, without a mask, that I am, Sir, &c.

LETTER VII. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Loving Brother,

I Am now about to change the Scene; and I fear it will be a long time before I ſhall date my Letters again from London, a place I once eſteem'd above all the earth could ſhow me; but my liking is almoſt drown'd in thoſe ſcarlet ſtreames have lately ſtain'd it. I may now be ſaid to be retiring from a crowd to an hermitage: for (though tis like I ſhall mingle with much people) I ſhall notwithſtanding be alone; ſince tis not the eye, but the mind and the affections that create ſociety; like Tantalus, that ſtood up to the mouth in water, yet could not drink. But the armes of amity are long enough to reach a true friend at the greateſt diſtance; for though there be a larger piece of earth get­ting between our heavier parts, yet thoſe that have the ſtamp of immortality need confeſſe no other limits than what bound the Univerſe. Thus11 ſometimes my pen, ſometimes my thoughts ſhal viſit you, and fancy an intertainment ſuitable to the love that carries them. If Nature had not planted a mutuall affection in our greeneſt yeares, and taught it to ſwim (like a fiſh in its proper Element) in the Crimſon ſap we bor­row'd from the ſame fruitfull ſtock, I think I ſhould have bidden fair for your friendſhip with much induſtry, and, like a ſlip that fetch'd his Pedigree from ſome excellent root, ſet it with much diligence in my triangular Garden. But no more. As I was reviſing ſome ſcriblings, with an intent to pack each in his proper place before my parting, I lighted on theſe Rhymes, made about the time I firſt put on chaines, & upon that ſubject. I had thrown them by with ſuch a neg­lect as I uſe when I treat with ſuch trifles, that when I re-met with them they had been ſo loſt to my memory, that they prov'd as new to my ſelf as they will be to you. I do not ſend them with a thought they deſerve your reading, but onely to let you ſee that when I am weary of better imployment, I have not forgot to dally with the Pinkes in Apollo's Garden. I wiſh all accidents, events, humors, and diſpoſitions may conſpire to make this your meeting plea­ſant and delightfull. If my fancy could carry my earthy part as nimbly as her ſelfe, I think I ſhould help to feather ſome glad houres among you. But tis not wiſdome to deſire what we can­not12 have. You ſee I have much adoe to keep within the bounds of my paper. Farewell dear brother, and continue to love

Your own R. L.
TO ſerve! what's that? let me conſider; ſtay,
What comes it to to leaſe my ſelfe away?
What right have I reſign'd? pray let me ſee,
What is't to let away my liberty?
Dull purblind ſoules, that have ſo little wit
To value nought but when we part with it!
Tis to unown my ſelf, tis to diſclaime
My will, my head, my hands, all that I am;
To ſell my right in Nature, that would have
None of her freeborn creatures to turne ſlave;
To bow, to cringe, to ſtoop, and to be ſtill
Pliant and ſupple to anothers will;
With cheap tame patience quietly to ſtand,
And watch th' arrival of ſome proud command,
That ſets my heels awork, or elſe my hand.
Thus having baſely ſet my ſelf to ſale,
Time is my Keeper, and each place my Jaile:
The ſlaves of the ſame trade are at Argiers,
Onely my chaine will further reach than theirs.
But hold proud thoughts, the wretch deſerves his woe,
That fancies fetters when they are not ſo;
Shew me the man can boaſt ſo free a ſtate,
That is not to ſome power ſubordinate:
13
What is he that has uncontrol'd intents?
Seas have their ſhores, and Kings their Parla­ments:
This harmony that ſmites does chiefly flow
From theſe two fertile words cal'd High & Low.
Were it a ſin to ſerve, did it bewray
A feeble mind put into mingled clay,
I'de throw my fetters at my niggard fate,
And ſcorne to eate or live at ſuch a rate:
But ther's no ſlavery but in vice, a ſoul
That can but check his paſſion, can control
His looſe deſires, can temper and ſet right
The ſtragling footſteps of his Appetite;
Rather than life with baſe diſhonour ſave,
Can make a brave retreat into a grave,
Is free, although he helpes to fill the rank,
And tugs with tann'd companions at the Bank.
Farewell then ſordid Sloth, go barren Eaſe,
Morning long ſleeps adue, go try to pleaſe
Voluptuous ſoules, go dwell upon thoſe eyes
Can lend kind lookes to virtues enemies.
Haile Learning, parent of deſert, to thee
My new-rouz'd ſoul repaires; ſweet Induſtry,
Thoſe ſweaty drops ſet on thy ruddie brow,
Like virtues gems come and receive my vow,
Ne're to forſake thee more, never to be
Sick of thy pleaſing ſprightly company:
Thou my beſt Miſtreſſe art, and I will be
When I am moſt alone yet ſtill with thee.
14
On deare Companion then, let's make no ſtay,
Where reputations Taper leads the way.
I'le owe no bluſh then as a debt to ſhame,
Becauſe that I no Independent am.

LETTER VIII. To his brother, Mr. A. L.

Loving Brother,

I Was alwaies loth to ſuffer breach of word to keep company with the reſt of my crimes, if in­diſpenſable neceſſity did not force the guilt. And indeed we ſhould hate falſe promiſes for his ſake that firſt hatch'd them; deceit of this kind in­trap'd mans primitive innocence, and made him leave that large Legacy of imperfection to his unhappy heires. But to ſwell this to the uſuall ſtature of my tedious Letters, I muſt imi­tate thoſe Citizens of the world called younger brothers, that are oft forc'd to range far from home to inlarge their narrow fortunes. And ſince I have caſually chop'd upon this Simile, I think the relation of this kind may prove leſſe unplea­ſant, than the word, I ſhould otherwiſe deſigne to black this Paper. It is the Story of the great Cardinal Mazarini, that ſits now at the ſtern of the French affairs. He is by birth a Scicilian, by extraction ſcarce a Gentleman; his15 education ſo mean as might have wrote man before he could write: but being in Natures debt for a handſome face, a ſtout heart, and a ſtirring ſpirit, he no ſooner knew that Scicily was not all the World, but his active thoughts were got above his poor condition, and made him reſolve to dwell no longer with his domeſtick penury: and now being come into Italy, his good fortune conducted him to the caſual encounter of a Dutch Knight, to whoſe ſervice his debonair behaviour ſoon preferr'd him. This German was well skill'd in the vices of his Nation, which he committed with ſuch cunning as (though he drank and playd very deep) yet his skill in the one main­tain'd his debauch in the other. This was a leſ­ſon which the yong Scicilian deem'd worth his learning; and having curiouſly obſerv'd how his Maſter ſhak'd his Elbow, began to practiſe his Art upon his own Companions; in which he thrived ſo well, as daily improving his skill with his ſtock, he began to foſter forward hopes, which were well befriended by ſome affaires that called his Maſter to Rome; where taking occaſion to ſtep into better company, and ſtill following his faculty at play, it was not long before he had hoarded a thouſand Crowns; then good Luck (the Dam of Ambition) began to hatch ſome aſpiring thoughts, which firſt ſhewed themſelves in a requeſt to his Maſter, thus; ſince Provi­dence16 had lately thought fit to mend his for­tunes, he would vouchſafe to do as much to his condition, and to entertain him in the quality of a Gentleman; to deſerve which he promiſed to maintain himſelf proportionably, without ex­pecting any addition to his allowance. This granted, he preſently commences Gallant, and begins to practiſe ſuch generous qualities as are uſually paid with reputation and profit: his good clothes and complete ſhape firſt admitted him, and his pleaſant converſation indeared him to the beſt ſociety, and ſtill his play ſupported him in it. At length his Maſter takes his leave of Rome, and therefore he of his Maſter; telling him that he could not forſake that place which he hoped was cut out to be the forge of his for­tunes; and being now grown intimate with ſome Gentlemen that attended the Cardinal who ſteer'd the helm of the Papal Intereſt, he found means to be made known unto him, and prof­fered his ſervice, with a behaviour ſo handſomly compoſed, as at the ſame time it got him both admiſſion and affection. The Cardinal, after ſome tryal of his temper and peruſal of his diſpoſi­tion, was well pleaſed with the diſcovery of a piercing wit, woven with a cleer judgment and an active Genius, with a capacity apt to receive ſuch impreſſions as are not uſually ſtamp'd in every brain; he was alwayes very careful to fill up thoſe intervals which his buſineſſe and play17 had left vacant, with ſtudy of State-affaires; in which he proſpered with ſo much felicity, that after his Cardinal had worn him a year or two at his ear, and diſtilled his State-Maximes into his fertile ſoul, he thought fit to breathe the Theo­ry he had given him in ſome action that might let the World take notice of his pregnant abili­ties: he was therefore ſent Coadjutor to a Nuntio who was then diſpached to one of the Princes in Italy, and during that imployment he injoyned his Creature to give him a Weekly account of their tranſactions; which he did with ſo much vivacity of apprehenſion and gravity of judgment, that the Cardinal began to couple admiration with affection; and (as if Fate had combined with Nature and Fortune to advance him) the Nuntio's ſudden death lets fall the whole weight of the buſineſs upon his ſhoulders, which he ſupported with ſuch a ſtrength of ſoul, managed with ſuch dexterous ſolidity, and ac­counted for all to his Cardinal with ſuch a win­ning induſtry, as he wrought it with his Holineſs to declare him Nuntio. And now as his pre­ferment had made him more conſpicuous, ſo his brave heart uſed the advantage of that new height to diſtribute longer rayes with a more lively luſtre. But to contract the Story; his Commiſſion expired, and the affaires that begot it happily concluded, he returns to Rome; where he receives (beſides a general grand repute) the18 dear careſſes of his Cardinal, and the plauſive benedictions of S. Peters Succeſſor. About this time the Cardinal Richelieu had gotten ſo much glory by making his Maſter Lewis XIII. of a weak man a mighty Prince, as he grew for­midable to all Chriſtendom, and contracted ſu­ſpition and envy from Rome it ſelf: this made the ſtanding Conclave to reſolve upon the di­ſpatch of ſome able inſtrument, to countermine his dangerous, and give a check to the carriere of his prodigious ſucceſſes. This reſolved, they ge­nerally concurr'd in the choice of Mazarini, as the fitteſt head-piece to give their fears death in the others deſtruction. To fit him for this great imployment, the Pope gives him a Cardi­nals Hat, and ſends him into France with a large Legantine Commiſſion; where being arrived, and (like his politick ſelf) firſt complying with that grand Fox, the better to get a Clue to his Labyrinth, began to ſcrew himſelf into Intelligence; but when he came to ſound his plots, and perceive he could find no bottom, he began to look from the top of his enterpriſe as people do from Precipices, with a frighted eye; and now finding the deſign not onely not feaſible, but very dangerous, (the other never uſing to take a leſſe vengeance then ruine for ſuch darings) and then conſidering that his re­treat to Rome would neither be honorable nor ſafe, without attempting ſomething: he at laſt19 reſolves to declare himſelf Richelieu's Creature, and (to win the more confidence) unrips the bo­ſom of all Romes deſigns againſt him. This made the other take him to his breaſt, acquainted him with the ſecret contrivance of all his Dedalian policies, and when he left the World declared him his Succeſſor; and he is now the great Car­dinal that umpires (almoſt all Chriſtendom,) and now ſhines in the Gallique Court with ſo proud a pomp. But I have made my Story too wordiſh; if time would have conſented, I think I ſhould have pared much of that away which you will find ſuperfluous: but take this rude haſty draught for the preſent, and expect the next to be bet­ter poliſhed by

Your really affectionate Brother to command, R.L.

LETTER IX. To Mr. K.

Sir,

AFter the wearing out of a tedious year in the dull Countrey, where I met with no­thing that had delight enough to charm the ac­count of my houres, I am gotten again into the precinct of this unwieldy City; which I find ſo emptied of all thoſe I call my friends and ac­quaintance, as if I had ſlept with Endymion, and20 waked again in another Age; among the beſt of which methinks I do not ſufficiently reſent the miſſe of you, unleſs I tell you ſo. For you ſhall do me but right to believe that it is not in the power of new faces, freſh acquain­tance, long abſence, with the reſt of thoſe in­gredients whereof others have compoſed Obli­vion, to raze out thoſe friends from my remem­brance, that not a raſh, blind, imprudent choice, but a rational election hath faſtened to it. Of you I have had an experience that made me deſirous to get my ſelf the title of your friend, and it muſt not be the crime of my will, if I do not keep it: & I am the more eager to aſſert it, becauſe I am confident it has a mutual relation betwixt us. I pray let a line or two from you ſhew that you confeſs my claim is juſt, and inform me how the Pulſe of your body and affaires beat in theſe ill-tempered times. Let it tell me too what you know of honeſt W.A. when you heard from him, how he thrives in his Mercantile affaires, and by what means I may ſend him a line. For my ſelf, I ſtill like a Mill-horſe repeat my ſteps in the ſame Circle; and I am contented with a mean ſhelter in this ſtormy Age, for I left aiming at prefer­ment ever ſince it was put out of honeſties reach; & as I cannot take that upon baſe terms, ſo I muſt not give up my reſolution of living to my friends, and therefore of being perfectly

Yours R. L.
21

LETTER X. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Loving Brother,

IF imployment from them (to whom my thin fortunes have made obedience a debt) had not countermanded my intents, my Pen had not held its peace laſt week, nor I been forced to ſet an excuſe on the forehead of this. Your pleaſing reliſh of my laſt mindes me of ſuch Palates as prefer ſome courſe diſh they love well, before exquiſite dainties; thus has affection taught your opinion (like the Philoſophers Stone) to turn my viler metal into gold. But enough of this, leſt Modeſty ſhould appear Deſign, and I ſeem of that number that would improve their praiſes by rejecting them, and (like cunning Merchants) ſend their goods away that they may return with increaſe. Indeed I ſhould be­ly my diſpoſition, and wrong my deſires, if I confeſt not that they are levelled at the good opinion of all; but moſt my affection, if I ſhould not ſay it chiefly aimed at yours. For from the object at which Love ſhoots moſt Ardour, a re­flexion of the ſame Rayes is, moſt paſſionately deſired; but though I can let theſe into my ſoul with much delight, yet the inward reſent­ment of my feeble deſerts muſt not ſuffer them22 to kindle the tickling vanity of ſelf-love. Re­putation is the Mother of all beautiful actions; it is the Taper that leads the way to all that is called Deſert; where that is miſpriſed, vertue is benumm'd, and Reaſon it ſelf falls aſleep: but it is not lawfully gained by ſuch merits as make a noiſe on purpoſe to be heard; they bid faireſt for it that manage a baſhful skill, and (as I have ſeen you cut faces on a Cherry-ſtone) ſhew much artifice in a narrow Continent, that will not brag of a broad appearance. The commodities you exchange for my trifles, have a better eſtimation here then with you; for I muſt tell you my heart thrives by this pleaſing traffick, and grows rich with true delight. I am now taking the Phyſick the Doctor ſent me (for our journey is ſtill delaied;) of the operation I ſhall put my account in the next. My malady ſtill continues a cruel foe to my fortunes, and in ſpight of all rational oppoſition does too often gall me with vexation, and reproves Content when it grows too forward by this you may conclude how I would value the man whoſe skill could eaſe my mind of ſo heavy a manacle. If you ſee the Doctor before your next, I pray let him know that the neezing-powder I take conſtantly, but have much adoe to perſwade it to make me neeze once at a time. If I ſee their means fail, I am reſolved to try anothers judgment; but that to you one­ly. 23I have no more time left than what will permit me to tell you that I am and ever will be

Yours in the pureſt and moſt unreſerv'd affection to command, R. L.

LETTER XI. To Mr. H.

Sir,

SUffer theſe few words without a blot of Complement, to mind you of thoſe Hoſpi­table Courteſies you confer'd on one whoſe chief glory is that he hates ingratitude; for which take my true thankes in the ſame ſim­ple habit that my heart has dreſt them in, and be confident you have purchas'd a heart that will reſigne the reſentment of my happineſs in ſuch a friend to no other power than what at laſt will deprive it of all reſentment. This will be made good to you, when you ſhall examine a riper experience of me; in the meane time peruſe this inclos'd, and ſatisfie thoſe friendly longings that ſpoke you skilfull in goodneſſe, that ſet ſo juſt a value on ſo virtuous a man. I am aſſur'd if he had remembred the likelihood of my happineſſe to enjoy your converſe, your name had been ſet there faſtned to a kind re­membrance; however I know you will aſſiſt my24 gladneſſe in applauding his health; from whom what I ſhall receive in the future I ſhall com­municate to you, though I hide it from all the world beſide: whether to keep it till I come, or ſeal it up and ſend it back by this bearer, is left to your choice. Preſent my hearty ſervice to ſweet Mrs. H. and promiſe your ſelf, that though you have many more deſerving, you have not a more cordial friend than

R. L.

LETTER XII. To his Brother A. L.

Loving Brother,

THat we both entred the worlds Theatre from the ſame door, is not enough to prove us friends; too many (like Cadmus back­ward brood) not ſcrupling to crack the chaine of Nature, this Iron age hath ſhown us: But it is the kindred of our unbegotten ſoules is called friendſhip, when their effluxive beames (by the ſweet conſtraint of aſſimulation) meet, imbrace, and weave themſelves (like Ariadne's Crown) into a Conſtellation. Such a mutuall contexture betwixt us has pul'd the knot of Nature ſtraiter, and render'd the Union in­capable of diſſolution or mutation; which is25 as great an Hereſie in amity as that lately broach'd of the ſoules mortality, ſince love ſtrikes the greateſt ſtroke in intellectuall facul­ties. But (as you ſay) that jewell ſhould not be beholden to words for its eſtimation, tis beſt then to keep it in the Cabinets of our ſoules, till we can ſet it in our actions: Neerneſſe of conſanguinity is not juſtly coercive to friend­ſhip. When I am with my Lord (which I hope I ſhall be very ſhortly) I ſhall perfect you a more full account of my own affaires than I am now able: in the meane you may confidently believe that I am

Your entirely affectionate Brother to com­mand till death. R. L.

There is good newes ſtirring, but you muſt content your ſelf with the generality, till particularizing grow leſſe dangerous.

LETTER XIII. To his Unkle Mr. W.L.

Sir,

LEſt I ſhould run the hazard of being loſt to your thoughts, be pleas'd to know from this paper that you have ſtill a Nephew who has not forgot what he owes you, nor ſuffer'd26 new objects and intereſts to untye him from thoſe reſpects, which beſides the neer relation of blood, the powerfull hand of amity hath faſtned: ſo I have often received from my Bro­thers pen the account of your happy and health­full condition both in body and mind; and be­lieve it, Sir, you have not a friend hath out­gladded me for your well-being, nor out­wiſh'd me for the continuance. Inſtead of a bet­ter token I have ſem you a dull tranſlation out of the French Tongue, I gain'd in thoſe empty ſpaces of time which were left by thoſe that command me at my own diſpoſall: if affection can help you to over-ſee the blemiſhes, and teach you to excuſe what your judgement ſhould condemne, perhaps it may help you to feather a few tedious houres, when the fiſh have no appetite. I ſtill repine at my ill fortune, that would not let me enjoy you while I was in the Country: For Sir, though I ever chiefly lov'd you for your own ſake, yet I bluſh not to confeſſe that I mingled my intereſt in what re­lates to your ſociety, which was ever ſo fruitfull of delight and complacency, as it might excuſe the greateſt longer. Well Sir, that nothing may have power to diſcompoſe, to ſtorme or cloud the ſerenity of your dayes, your quiet contentment; that you may enjoy a conſtant Spring of happineſſe in this Winter of your Age, and want nothing but Want it ſelf, ſhall27 never be left out of the Prayers and wiſhes of, Deare Unkle,

Yours, &c. R. L.

LETTER XIV. To his Aunt.

Deare Aunt,

IT requires ſo much unworthineſſe to make me forget your obliging favours, that while the ſin lookes ſo ugly I ſhall alwaies loath it: Though like Tenants that enjoy rich Leaſes from a Maſters bounty, the value of my ac­knowledgment does not exceed their yearly Pepper cornes Such a triviall payment as that I have ſent you by this bearer, and do humby deprecate the crime of my ſloth, that it kiſt your hands no ſooner. It is the wild fruit of ſuch houres as I ſet aſide to my own delight, and never intended it ſhould be diſtaſted by any other palate than mine own; but the im­portunity of ſome judicious friends reverſ'd that reſolution, and crouded it upon the Theatre of the world, where it is like to act its part ſo poorly, as I have more reaſon to fear a hiſſe than hope a clap. But could you lend your Candour to all my Readers, at leaſt the errours would be but ſmil'd at, and I ſhould have no worſe cenſure than young learners to write may expect;28 who at firſt are not much blam'd though they make their letters crooked. Well, Dear Aunt pardon this, call it what you pleaſe, to him that thought it fitter to ſend you the errours, than keep back the acknowledgement of

Your moſt affectionate Nephew, and moſt humble Servant, R. L.

LETTER XV. To my Brother A. L.

Loving Brother,

YOurs arriv'd at my hands, and was welcome, becauſe it put ſome doubts to flight that you had farweld Barningham. I am glad of my High-Suffolk friends welfare, and joy'd at their kindneſſe that was ſo buſie with my remembrance; for which I muſt yet con­tent my ſelf here to give the tacite exchange of an affection as ſterling as theirs. My Lords longer reſidence than I diſtruſted at his Father in Lawes hath yet kept us aſunder, that houſe being ſtuff'd too full already to entertaine any more; but he is now upon his departure thence, and I upon the brink of ſetling with him: when I know my own condition, I muſt not ſuffer you to be ignorant of it. I have much cauſe to thank you for the incloſed lines; and as much29 to admire the unconſtrained purity of Mr. B's veine, that has made Ovids teares to run here in ſo ſmooth a channell; he is likely to re­deeme him from the unskilfull injuries of other Tranſlators that abuſed his ſorrow with ſuch a blubbered Paraphraſe. Tis ſaid Tranſlations (like liquors poured from one veſſel into ano­ther) loſe ſome of their vital ſpirits, and are ren­dered dead and flat to the guſt of underſtand­ing. I ſhall not flatter to ſay this has confuted the inſtance, and made Naſo complain as mov­ingly, as handſomly, in Engliſh as he did in his Latian language. But I ought to beg his par­don for the diſparagement of my weak praiſes, and yours for my tediouſneſs, which at this time ſhall ſin no further; and I hope I ſhall not ſtand in need of words to perſwade you that I am

Your inviolably affectionate Brother to command, R. L.
30

LETTER XVI. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Loving Brother,

I Have but a ſhare in my own condition till you have it wholly in account; there being ſo much of my ſelf reſident with you, that the part of it which is here goes but halves with you in every action of weight or moment. I am now at Nottingham perfectly ſetled with my Lord C. My imployment is ſomething too great for an unſeaſoned ſervant, and would diſcourage a new beginner, if I did not ſupply the defects of my experience with an active pliant reſolution. I attend him in his chamber, and uſher his Lady, write his Letters, and whatever elſe that unbe­ſeems not his command or my obedience. My wages are little enough to make preſent ſubſiſt­ance circumſcribe my gains: but I think I have already a greater allowance of his love then his money; however, I ſhall make the leaſt ſerve to keep me afloat without the aſſiſtance of my own bladders. And now ſince the careleſs hand of Fortune has ranged me with ſtrangers that I have not yet begun to read over, I can value it at no lower rate then my beſt recreation to give you the exact ſtory of my actions and imploy­ment, by piece-meal, as I tear it from my out­worn time; which jewel I have uſed too long31 like Aeſops Cock, and am reſolved to ſet an high­er value on an hour then formerly of a day. Thus having raiſed the price of my minutes, I begin ſharply to cenſure the ſlight of your proffered aid in the knowledge of Simples, for I think I ſhall bend my ſtudies that way. I have he­ſtowed ſome of my later houres on the French Tongue, which I have already half gained, and fear not to bring my attempts to a ſudden perfe­ction, it being familiarly ſpoken by the beſt ſort of this family. That gained, the Italian will be but a ſhort ſtride for my intended induſtry, and both will be ſerviceable (if I meet an occaſion) for my intended travel.

Thus you ſee by this time tis even an incon­venience to be beloved by me, ſince the ardor of that affection makes you liable to the tedious torment of my impertinent Pen: and yet I think if my paper were longer I ſhould not ſo ſoon ſhorren your trouble, and I am far from mending my fault; that you are like (notwith­ſtanding my remote removal) to be ſtill haunt­ed with theſe frequent vexations. You can­not oblige me more then to be punctual in reſcri­ption, which will never fail to bring a welcome delight to

Your really affectionate Brother to command, R. L.
32

LETTER XVII. To his Brother Mr. W.

Sir,

IT is none of my worſt Reaſons why I am glad of my return to London, that Letters may walk between me and my friends with leſs hazard; and it is one of my beſt, that there­by I may contract amity with your deſerving ſelf: which if you think fit to give me under your hand, I ſhall be careful to bid it welcome, and return ſuch a cordial exchange, as may teach us the way to know, before we ſee one another, and make acquaintance precede interview. Be intreated that your reply may tell me how my Siſter does, how her great belly becomes her, and when ſhe is like to increaſe the number of young ſinners. I dare not promiſe, but if it be poſſible, I will come time enough to taſte of the Goſſips Cup, if we do not make too ſudden a retreat into the Countrey. You will oblige me, to ſpeak my ſervice to my Couſin W. of Laurenſet, my Couſin H. with the reſt that know me. Pray tell my Couſin R. aliàs my Sweet­heart, that I am ſtill her ſervant. And believe it Sir, I can never quit my deſires to appear

Your faithful Servant and Brother in Law, R. L.
33

LETTER XVIII. To his Brother A. L.

Loving Brother,

WHat you almoſt cal'd my neglect, I have now repair'd, and (like ſome over-pro­vident Cautionſts) who finding their bodies prone to one diſeaſe, do ſometimes Antidote themſelves into a contrary malady,) inſtead of appeaſing, if I have not cloy'd your appetite, good enough. If I were ſure none none of mine periſhed by the way, it were ſeaſonable to re­turne you your own words, and tell you this is the third ſent ſince any received: But letters are travellers, and do often dye in a voyage. I could almoſt conſent to reſigne my being for a month, that I might be with you but a week, to ſhew you what kind of Oare it is I tug at; with ſome other apprehenſions that I could be content to eaſe my mind of. Man is oft beholding to his ſufferings for the calling in of ſuch virtues as otherwiſe perhaps would never be of his ac­quaintance; and indeed we ſhould not mu••y againſt thoſe paines that ſend us a ſeeking for ſuch excellent remedies. Affliction is like a deep mine that will afford pure gold if we digge for it; and calamity (well handled) does poliſh with rugged uſage, and even pinch the ſoul into perfection. By that time the Spring will have34 done ſtrowing her flowers, I ſhall be able to tell you whether my hopes of a cure do fade or flouriſh: But however Providence deales with me, I hope this triviall world hath not charm enough to give me repining by the hand of de­ſpaire to enjoy them longer; all my fear is that my errant Condition will not ſuffer me to fit ſtill long enough to let my Phyſick ſettle. I intend to cloſe this Springs courſe with open­ing an Iſſue in my Arme on the contrary ſide by way of revulſion. Did but my health ſmile upon my deſignes, you ſhould ſoon view my imployment in a fairer Character: Till then my ſoul muſt write with a bad pen upon blotted pa­per; and you know how ill tooles will ſhame the Artificer. When I reflect upon my weak hopes of recovery, I am ſometimes ready to de­ride my own endeavours, and oft urg'd to ma­numit induſtry, and entertaine ſupinity, till vi­ctorious Reaſon ſets the ſlaves their task again. And indeed Deſert is never ſo much her ſelf, as when ſhe ſhuts her eyes upon the reward, and thinks it recompence enough to be her ſelf I think we may go ſafely ſo far as to call that a mercenary piety that is meerly and abſtractedly ſo, becauſe Heaven is got by the bargaine. Tis true, I know morality has not enough to pay that purchaſe, but ſure (if well apply'd) it goes a great way in the account. But whither am I wander'd? if my ſtaggering diſcourſe does35 not well keep the path, conceive that the feet muſt ſometimes tread irregular ſteps that are directed by an infirm head. If I preſum'd leſſe upon you, I would have ſent you my thoughts rank'd in a better method. Theſe incloſed you can beſt direct where they are intended: I pray do my due reſpects to thoſe you think my friends; and to your ſelf and intereſti believe it I am as zealouſly devoted as you can wiſh

Your perfectly affectionate brother to command, R. L.

LETTER XIX. To his Brother A. L.

Dear Brother,

GIve me leave to begin my Letter with what I ſhall never make an end of, ſo long as I can hold a pen in my hand, or a heart in my breaſt: I meane my thankes for thoſe bewitch­ing proofes of an entire Love, which you late­ly made me receive with ſuch a beauteous varie­ty both of expreſſion and performance. All I am able to ſay to it, is, that I am paſſionately de­ſirous you would apprehend me as I am, and then you would never check your heart for be­ing too laviſh of affection. I had no ſooner rent36 my ſelfe from you (for I found it requir'd ſome violence to reinforce my reſolution to part) but I far'd like one newly wak'd from a delightfull dreame, and found himſelf deſpoil'd of all the joyes wich he borrow'd from the flattery of fancy. This made Melancholy my compani­on to London, in ſpite of all the facetious rouſings of my merry Major. On Friday night we lay at Woodford, and reach'd home on Saturday Mor­ning, where (before I would put my neck into the coller again) we dip'd ſome choice healths, but eſpecially yours, in the beſt Laurentian Li­quour; and ſo I tooke my leave of him and Sack. Well, I am now return'd again to my Oare; and though I row againſt wind and tide of prefer­ment, yet it pleaſes me that my imployment raiſes no ſtormes in my Conſcience: I pray God I may keep it calme till Heaven thinkes fit to ſet me aſhore in the ſafeſt Harbour. I can­not want ſuch thoughts as theſe ſo long as I car­ry my remembrancer about me of what I muſt be, my malady; which I confeſſe I ſhould beare with leſſe anxiety, did I not fear it will knock me o'th head before I dye, (you know my meaning,) and make me ſurvive my ſelf. But Gods will be done. If the Doctor has conſider'd of any thing he deemes fit to commend to my obſervation, I ſhall gladly receive it; I ſhall ſtrive in my next to render him, if it be poſſible, a more perfect account of his Sons goods. I dare37 not ſatisfie your deſires concerning the grand af­faires, nor indeed can I juſtly; there is ſo much fallacy in Fame, that Reports are born and ſtifled the ſame hour, &c. I was in good hopes we ſhould have gone for Nottingham; but I think the old woman is about a little buſineſſe that will quite ſpoil that deſign, I mean, dying. Well, my dear Brother, no more but this, you ſhall be happy in all that your wiſhes can dictate, if the prayers may prevail of

Your ever affectionate Brother to command, R. L.

LETTER XX. To Mr. H.

Sir,

I Have yours, wherein you have proved your ſelf a double deſerver; firſt, in ſhewing friendly kindneſſe in doing courteſies, and then a rare modeſty in diſclaiming their acknow­ledgment: a diſpoſition ſeldom known in ſuch an age as this, that can content it ſelf rather to merit thanks then receive them. But you muſt be leſſe complemental to be believed unskilful in complement; and though my weakneſſe that way make me quit the liſts to you, yet I ſtrive to over-match you as much in right down reali­ty.

38

This contemptible Town can brag of no commodity, but is chiefly barren of Intelligence, as if Fame thought it not worthy of a report till it growes ſtale with the reſt of the Kingdom; and ſo we are ſerved like the loweſt rank of mortals with nought but her fragments, &c.

I have ſomething unwillingly obeyed your commands in incloſing this Epiſtle, it being the firſt I ever enterpriſed in this kind; which makes me adviſe you to diſtruſt it as well as my ſelf, and not think it a fit forehead for your Book, till a more artificial hand has fill'd up its native wrinkles, and it has paſt the Correction and teſt of ſome ſterling judgment, ſuch an one as Mr. W. would reward the pains of an earneſt in­treaty.

Yours R. L.

LETTER XXI. To Doctor B.

Dear Doctor,

I Perceive by yours that I have a juſt quarrel to the Carriers careleſneſs, who (like an un­skilful Archer) ſhot my Letter beyond the mark, and made it ſtay his leiſure to bring it back again: and indeed the reception you have given it is like the entertainment of a friend,39 whoſe long abſence has help'd to indear the meeting, and deck the welcom; I am onely ſor­ry it had no better Title to what you have given it, which is a Character that I can own with as little juſtice as I had either merit or confidence to ask it. But Sir, if theſe be not onely breath­ings of ingenuity, and rather ſallies of your fan­cy then opinion, tis fit they ſhould awake my endeavours to be what your friendly apprehenſi­on has faſhon'd me; which your amity has done, not without ſome diſadvantage to your judge­ment. But though I fall ſhort in every other proportion you gueſſe me at, in affection, with all the requiſites of a true friend, you ſhall ever find me good meaſure, &c. Be as happy as I wiſh my ſelf, and believe me ever, deare Doctor, perfectly and entirely

Yours R. L.

LETTER XXII. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Loving Brother,

OPportunities have here but ſlender fore­tops; I uſe them therefore here as paſſen­gers that waite for a wind, and unfurle my paper­ſayles, when their gale is moſt promiſing: Thus though my affection does not ſympathize with40 the aires inclemencies, and payes neither faint­ing tribute to the frying Dog ſtarre, nor ſhud­dering to the Northern Bear; yet it is now fore'd to make a leg to Fortune for theſe occa­ſions, and let fall its words as the Plow-man does his ſeed, not at his own choice, but when the ſeaſon invites.

My laſt two Letters vext you with the tedi­ous deſcription of my malady; and this has charge to tell you, that I hope I ſhall give you no more ſuch penances; The cure of it being now undertaken by a man in this Countrey, whoſe fortunate skill has triumph'd over ſtrange Diſeaſes; which has got him the acclamations of his patients, and the envy of his own tribe. His ſtory is this; he was born well (being the great Dr. B's Nephew, moſt of whoſe receipts he has;) but bred meanly, firſt bound Prentice to a Shoomaker in Nottingham, from whom he ran away moſt ingeniouſly, and return'd ſome years after a profeſt Phyſitian: how far he fetch'd his Art, or whether moſt beholding for it to bookes or men, I know not, (and in it himſelf is reſolutely ſilent;) but almoſt miraculous ſucceſſe in the Calling made him quickly known and fa­mous. Preſently after theſe ſad times burſt forth, in which it was his fortune to ſide with the weaker party. There are many (not un­handſome) ſtories told of his behaviour while the ſword was unſheath'd; among the reſt this,41 which I had from his own mouth. He having command in a Garriſon neer, did often give ſome ungentle viſits to his Townſmen at Not­tingham, and was for almoſt a year (though a Phyſitian) their continuall Ague; at length in a skirmiſh neer Darby it was his fortune to be made Priſoner, and thence was ſtraitly guar­ded towards Nottingham, where they intended to give him no worſe reward than a hanging for his former courteſies. By the way he invites his Conductors (being ſixteen Troupers) to a Crowns-worth of Ale, which he privately ſea­ſon'd with ſuch a ſoveraigne ingredient, that it ſuddenly caſt them all in a profound ſleep; which done, he at pleaſure rifles their pockets, and takes from them about 200. l. two Caſe of Pi­ſtols, and two of their beſt Horſes, payes the reckoning, leaves them 13. d. ob. and returnes merrily to his own Garriſon. Since the war his fame is growne much louder, and his ſteps where ere he goes waited on by multitudes. I cannot heare that he undertakes any in whoſe cure he failes; he refuſes to look on Urines, and onely obſerves the wriſt when the right hand is grip'd, never failing to diſcover the nature, cauſe and ſeat of the malady, which he undertakes or rejects, as he finds it either feaſable or deſpe­rate. I am now his Patient; and though I yet can brag of little amendment by what I have taken, yet his confidence bids me hope well: he has let42 me blood under the Tongue, and cut a veine in my eare aſunder; and I am now taking of Pow­ders, Electuaries and Purges. The charge I find will be very great, but I am reſolv'd to buy off this plague at any rate, though I pinch for it all my life after.

I lately receiv'd a Letter from my dear Mr. W. then at Antwerp, which becauſe it gives a hopefull dawning of ſome tranſmarine imploy­ment, I have ſent you the Copy of it, and (to ſilence other likelihoods) I ſuppoſe this winter will determinate my ſtay in this family; but before that time I doubt not to exchange many ſuch as theſe with you. In the meane time be ſure you believe that my heart loves you, for it is truth it ſelf, and it ſhall clearly ap­peare if ever Providence ſmiles upon

Your entirely affectionate brother to command for ever R. L.
My dear friend,

All the good of Heaven & Earth attend you; you will eaſily believe my affection, if you remem­ber my induſtry to have enjoy'd you before I left the Kingdom: and truly I call it my great un­happineſs that I could not meet an opportunity till now to tell you I muſt be yours for ever. Had I known how to have ſent, I had done it ſoo­ner; but your Letter which directed me to you43 was in my trunke at London, and I receiv'd it but a few daies ſince. Wel then, take me as much yours as you can deſire, and aſſure your ſelfe I ſtudy your good next my own, and if God bleſſe me in the world, I ſhall quickly make it evident. In the meane, know I am order'd for France, where I have good aſſurance of ſome ſuitable imployment; when I come there you ſhall know it, and ſomewhat more of me than this haſty meſſenger will permit at preſent. Pray therefore write to Mr. K. that he will re­ceive and pay for my Letters that come to you by the French Poſt. I cannot deſire to heare from you where I am, becauſe my ſtay in theſe parts are uncertaine: Though I muſt tell you truly, I was never better pleas'd with any place in my life, yet you are wanting to make me happy. I am ſuffer'd to ſay no more, onely what I dayly ſay to my ſelfe; Live piouſly and ver­tuouſly, and all that's good muſt needs betide you: then be to me as I am, deare friend,

Your own entirely R. W.
POSTSCRIPT.
Brother,

To another this might argue me of levity to ſend you things of ſuch cheape mo­ment, and ſo much unconcerning your ſelfe; but there is ſo little complement in him, and ſo much love in you, that as I know the one can­not diſſemble, ſo the other cannot but bid that44 welcome that may ſuite with his intereſt that ſo truely loves: But bating you two, I am re­ſerv'd to all the world beſide. I ſtay my writing to my Siſter J. till I can know whether ſhe ſhall have the place or not. I feare the worſt. Farewell.

LETTER XXIII. To his Brother Mr. F. W.

Sir,

I Receiv'd and reſented your kind invitation, for which you will do me but right to fancy me truly thankfull. I ſhall take it kindly of my occaſions when they will give me leave to obey your ſummons; and will bring a heart along with me that will onely think it ſelf unhappy that it muſt begin ſo late to know you. I ſhould injure my parcell of reaſon to give a faint ap­plauſe to my Siſters choice, ſince ſounder judge­ments have ſpoke it happy, and your own hand confirm'd it ſo. I do not dote upon my own weakneſſe ſo much as to think my opinion would have quit the coſt of asking; onely I could have wiſh'd my preſence had inabled me to vote with the reſt, though it had been one­ly to ſhew I am not backward in the approbati­on45 of deſert. My requeſt is but reaſonable, that you will ſuffer me to know you better, and even at this diſtance to improve our acquain­tance. Tis but an eaſie task for your Pen, and will ingage mine to be reſponſal. I am afraid you have taken my Character from my friends to my diſadvantage; I know they would ſpeakno ill, and therefore am jealous have done it too well for me to make good. Pray preſent me moſt affectio­nately to your bed-fellow, and tell her I am glad to hear that her want of health is onely like to make work for the Midwife. My ſervice to that Couſin of mine to whoſe fair report I am ſo much obliged, and to the reſt that know me; and for your ſelf, you may ſafely believe that I am truly deſirous to appear,

Sir,
Really yours both in Love and Service, R. L.

LETTER XXIV. To Mr. C. S.

Sir,

IF my expectations of kiſſing your hands my ſelf had not been deluded, my Pen had ren­dered you what I know of the Perſon yours is46 directed to; of whom all the account I can give you may read in this incloſed paper; which af­ter you have peruſed, I intreat you will ſeal up, and deliver to Mr. H. to be ſent back in one of his: you will perceive by it that I muſt receive another before I can obey your commands in di­recting and diſpatching yours, which I expect daily. Sir, I thought it my ingagement to kiſs your hands with theſe blots, to undeceive your expectations, leſt you ſhould think long for an anſwer of what cannot yet be ſent. I hope you will eaſily believe me ſorry that I can ſerve you no better, nor ſooner in this; and may be confi­dent that I ſhall be glad of any power that may prove me, what I really am,

Sir,
Your moſt humble and most faithful Servant, R. L.

LETTER XXV. To Mr. H.

KNowing how highly I value your ſociety, you cannot chuſe but think me much diſ­pleaſed with thoſe caſual impediments that kept us ſo long aſunder; but repining never made Fortune leſſe peeviſh: but ſince you are there, give me leave to husband the incommodity of47 your abſence, by intreating ſuch courteſies, as, could we change places, I ſhould with much ala­crity perform for your ſelf. My firſt requeſt then is, that if you latch any news that may prove a Cordial to our dying hopes, you will not grudge to ſend it me, as a friendly aid that may help to put ſome ſad thoughts to flight. My next is the proſecution of a former deſire, that you would inquire of M. or any other Book­ſeller that is likely to inform you, if there be any new French Book of an indifferent volume that is worth the Tranſlating, and not enter­terpriſed by any other; if there be, let me de­ſire you would ſend it me down, with Cotgraves Dictionary of the laſt Edition: and for what you disburſe, I ſhall appoint you where you ſhall receive it at London, with ſome quantity beſides, which I ſhall deſire you to ſend me. You may well think me unable for ſuch an undertaking; but my worſt ſucceſſe will beſtow a trebble be­nefit, becauſe I ſhall make it ſerve to beguile melancholy, check idleneſs, and better my knowledge in the Language: for the book, I am indifferent whether it be Romance, Eſſay, Trea­tiſe, Hiſtory or Divinity, ſo it be worth the ren­dring in our language. You may either ſend them by G. F. who lies at and comes neereſt to Haughton, or by B. that comes to Nottingham, and lies at the &c. or by your own Lincolnſhire-Carrier. Let me beg to hear48 from you by your next moſt pregnant opportu­nity, and I ſhall be induſtrious to let you ſee you have not ſown theſe favours in a barren Soil, by conferring them upon one that will ever be ſtudious to love and ſerve you,

R. L.

LETTER XXVI. To his Brother Mr. A.L.

Dear Brother,

I Cannot ſtep ſo far out of the way, as not to find out a path to you; diſtance having onely power to render me remote to my friend in my circumſcriptive part, while the unconfined, without toyling with the method of motion, or paſſing through a ſucceſſion of places, can be with you in a moment: and indeed we carry that about us that confutes the cuſtom of paint­ing Angels with wings, when we conſider how ſuddenly our thoughts are charioted (without the penetration of a medium) to the fartheſt parts of the World, by the help of that faculty which doubtleſſe is neer akin to their Angeli­cal natures; ſince though a wing be the nimbleſt inſtrument of motion, yet it confeſſes an order of it, which thoſe Divine Intelligences are ne­ver49 task'd to. But why theſe Metaphyſicks in a Letter? will be your ſecret objection; to which I have not roome enough to give any other an­ſwer, than that I had rather ſay nothing to pur­poſe than nothing at all. We are now in a Town where moſt of the people get their bread by their water, I meane the Bath; and thoſe that never knew how to governe themſelves, are yet guides to others: of a City tis doubtleſs the prettieſt of England, in a double conſtructi­on, as it is little, and handſome. I have been ſomething curious to inform my ſelf of its Ori­ginall; but the beſt account I could get does af­ford but poore ſatisfaction: the ſobereſt have onely told me my own Conjectures, that the irruption of theſe hot Springs, which certainly borrow their warmth in their paſſage through a ſulphurous minerall, was the cauſe of building this City; but in the conveyance of particulars to poſterity, as the time, founders, with other circumſtances, Tradition has been very unfaith­full, in ſuffering the truth to be ſwallow'd by a fable which goes very currant among the com­mon people, and talkes of a King call'd Bladud, that being a great Necromancer (I know not for what reaſon) caus'd by the power of his Art theſe waters to be boil'd under-ground into ſuch an immenſe quantity, as hath ſerv'd to par­boile all thoſe that have ſince reſorted hither to waſh off their Diſeaſes. I have had but little50 time to try the virtue of it, being forc'd to waite upon my Lords humour of peruſing all the Townes and Houſes of remarke round about it; yet I have been already in it five times, and ſound ſo little virtue in thoſe ſteepings, as though I have us'd the hot Pumpe, according to Dr. B's. preſcriptions, for my head, yet I find it has rather done me harme than good, and halfe diſcourag'd my further triall. I find my ſelf daily more ſubject to your Splenitive malady, which ſince I us'd the Bath has made it ſelf known to me with more than an uſuall vigour: Beſides, I think I have gotten the Stone to boot. If all theſe produce but the fruits of a Divine Correction, I may think my ſelfe happy in my ſufferings. In my peruſall of the Cathedrall here (a ſtructure that is rather hand­ſome than magnificent, and claimes as little ad­miration as contempt) I met with an old Inſcrip­tion upon the wall, which at firſt ſtartled me; the words were theſe:

The Trees going to chooſe their King,
Said be to us thou Oliver King.

But upon inquiry I learn'd from a perſon that had read the ancient Records, this Inſcription was made in Honour of one Oliver King, Abbot of a Monaſtery, that laid the foundation of this Minſter; the Rebus is alluſive to a paſſage in Judges, where the Trees convented to chooſe them a King, and pitch'd firſt upon the Olive,51 though at laſt the Bramble carried it. So this pittifull piece of wit was ſet up as a gratefull memoriall of that Abbot's piety.

We are going from hence into Devonſhire, and thence into Cornwall, and are like to make it Michaelmas before we reviſit London. But wherever I go I will never go from my reſolu­tion of being, deare Brother,

Your really affectionate Brother to command, R. L.

LETTER XXVII. To his Sister F. CONCERNING PRAYER.

Dear Siſter,

I Remember your frequent ſolicites gain'd a promiſe from me to compoſe you a Prayer; for which though the ſenſe of my own inſufficiency might juſtly dig a grave in oblivion, yet I have rather choſe to deſerve a cenſure for the bad performance, than the totall forfeiture. Prayer is the Golden Chaine that tyes Heaven and Earth together; it is the pure Elementall flame whoſe property is to aſcend upwards, with which the ſoul, like the Phoenix, ſets her neſt afire, and even expires in the midſt of all thoſe kindled odours; it is a key that opens Heavens gates, and52 locks Hells. It is an Engine that, if rightly plan­ted and level'd, breakes a paſſage through all Earthly oppoſition to the Throne of mercy. It is the chief weapon us'd in our ſpirituall warfare; nor do we ſtand to't ſo ſtifly in any combate with our common enemy, as when humble Devotion and tender Zeal makes us ſhorter by the whole length of the legs. Thus we aſcend by ſtooping; thus we conquer by ſubmiſſion. Tis the beſt Phyſick for a ſickly ſoul, and penitent teares a ſoveraigne diet-drink for a diſeas'd conſcience. But you alwaies lov'd it too well to need an incouragement from my weak deſcrip­tion; yet becauſe I know you are not apt to take any advice ill that flowes from ſo true an affe­ction as mine, I will venture to give you theſe few ſhort obſervations before you enter upon this duty; Allow your ſelf ſome time to conſider the importance of this weighty affaire, and try to fly as high in apprehenſion of the Divine wiſ­dome, power, majeſty, mercy, &c. as the weak wings of your contemplation will ſuffer you; theſe thoughts will furniſh: you with ſuch awe and reverence as is requiſite in ſuch ad­dreſſes, and help you to ſhut out all vaine and idle imaginations that eſpecially at thoſe times flock to the diſturbance of Devotion. Co­vet not to ſtay long upon the duty till Devoti­on faints, and your fervour cooles: I am confi­dent tis a more hainous ſin than the miſtaken53 world is aware of, to bring a cold careleſſe heart to theſe duties; and as I muſt condemne thoſe that dare approch the Divinity with ſuch con­fuſed ſtuffe as their proud ignorance huddles up in extemporall haſte, ſo I do not commend them that onely tye their Tongues to one prayer, and think that no words can find the way to Heaven but thoſe they got by heart in their childhood. Variety is the mother of de­light; and why the ſoul may not not fancy a bleſ­ſed pleaſure in often appearing to her God in the change of devour rayment, I know not: Cu­ſtomary uſe changes even the moſt troubleſome imployment into delight. Oh could we bring Divine affaires to that happy habit, how much of Heaven ſhould we taſt even on Earth!

R. L.

LETTER XXVIII. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Dear Brother,

VVHen my thoughts tell me that ſucceſſe does not alwaies ſuit with a rationall ex­pectation, and future events often falſifie the promiſes of a preſent appearance, I am forc'd to feed ſuch incertainties (in reference to your54 malady) as uſually flow from the doubtfull combate betwixt Hope and Feare, wherein Love diſcharges both the active and paſſive part. From this you may judge how glad I would be that the newes of your perfect recovery would make peace between them; which pray, as you value my quiet, keep no longer from my know­ledge. There is a tenderneſſe that waites upon unvarniſh'd amity, which perhaps of ſome Stoi­call ſoules will get no other Title than imper­fection: and yet methinks here we cannot love wel without it; for though it be not a part, at leaſt it is a fruit of friendſhip, and as requiſite as ſoft­neſſe and delicacy in a feminine Compoſure; For if I muſt go with my friends halfe in all his joyes and griefs, I cannot give better proof that I have my ſtake in the latter, than by ſuch an Evidence. Give me leave then to tell you, that at preſent you cannot do me a greater Courte­ſie (if health hath impowr'd you) than to cure me of thoſe troubles that are the off-ſpring of yours. When I found my Lords danger ſo hopefully over-blown, I wiſh'd my ſelf againe at Holt, and half fell out with my Condition, that at the ſame time called me ſeverall waies by the name of Servant and Brother. Yet I did not carry away all my ſelfe at our parting; for, believe it, my better part has hover'd conſtant­ly about you, and you had the unſeen aſſiſtance of my earneſt addreſſes to the beſt Phyſitian. 55But tis more than time to conſider I am tedi­ous; let me once more conjure you to give no advantage to your Diſeaſe by any inward diſtur­bance; and continue to love him who will live and dye, dear Brother, unchangeably

Yours to ſerve you, R.L.
POSTSCRIPT.

I ſhall be in London about three weeks hence. Preſent me tenderly to my Siſters F. and J. and tell my Siſter J. that I have confer'd with Phyſitians about her Scurvy, and they all conclude that there is nothing ſo ſoveraigne for it as Aqua Limacum, of which ſhe may have the receipt in the new Lon­don-Diſpenſatory. Farewell. I pray let me heare ſuddenly from you.

To Mr. W. LETTER XXIX.

Sir,

THe doubt that my firſt Letter might miſſe the way to your hands has made me venture to ſend you this ſecond trouble, conceiving it a leſſe ſin to be too obſequious than neglectfull: and indeed your kindneſſe would win the name56 of Charity in vouchſafing a mutuall corre­ſpondence: for though I be very civilly us'd from the very top to the toe of this whole Fa­mily, yet in this throng I am forc'd to find out ſolitude; none here being made of better clay than will render them fit veſſells for houſhold-affaires; and I confeſſe I would be glad to over­take other qualities in him I faſten on with a ſtronger tye than the ordinary ſlipping knots of faint acquaintance. This makes me oft put my ſelf to the paine of thinking how much hap­pineſſe I loſt at a clap by being pluck'd from your ſociety; and theſe thoughts leave me a kind of a Carkaſſe till my ſoule comes home againe, which (if it were viſible) you might of­ten ſee buſily hovering about your ſelfe, ſtill panting after thoſe delights which, alas! ſhe has loſt in her divorce from you; but it is in your power to reſtore me part of them. I will ven­ture no newes, leſt I weary you with the relation of what you know. I muſt onely ſay, this ſtu­pendious victory of late has much leſſened my infidelity concerning your judicious opinion of future events; & there wants but the unmaſque­ing of your Parties reſolutions to make me their perfect convert. I am moſt reſolutely bent to follow your diſcreet advice in the Study of Phy­ſick, and therefore deſire you will pleaſe to know of Dr. R. what bookes are fitteſt to be­gin withall, for I am deſirous to obſerve as much57 method as I can; the exact account of which I beg you will pleaſe to receive at my hands, and I hope you will not withhold the continu­ance of your friendly counſell from him that truly loves and honors you

R. L.

LETTER XXX. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Deare Brother,

I Am never unfurniſh'd of a double welcome for your Letters; the firſt, as they come from your perſon, the other from your Pen; as they are cordially meant, and skilfully writ: and thus both my love and liking are your Priſoners, and have long ſince rejected the liberty of being o­therwiſe, as the harder bondage of the two. That which we call happineſſe (I meane re­ſtrain'd to ſublunaries) is ſomething proportio­ned to ſuch deſires as are uppermoſt, and there­fore indefinite, becauſe it alwaies takes a ſeve­rall ſhape from every ſngle inclination; all aim­ing at, though few or none hitting, that ſove­raigne good, Contentment. One hunts his hap­pineſſe in riches, another climbes for it by am­bition, a third thinks it ſwims upon the top of voluptuary fruition, the fourth places it in know­ledge;58 and in fine, ſo long as mankind dwells on this ſide of the Moon, every one carries his witch about him. For my part, a true friend is my Indies; and I reliſh more felicity in being well thought of by a virtuous perſon, than in enjoying all that the others court with ſo much eagerneſſe and ardour: And I hugge this diſpo­ſition with more indulgence, becauſe paſſions of this nature are ever friends with Reaſon, and give no bluſh in their Colours. And thus I have given you my heart tranſcrib'd. It poſes me to expreſſe my gladneſſe for the faire hopes of my Siſter J's. recovery; but the height of it might have been taken in my feares of meeting ill newes, which made me ſo much a Coward as I could hardly forbeare ſhaking when I opened your Letter: I pray ſpeake me to her in the beſt Language of affection, and tell her I hardly endured the cruelty of my occaſions, that would not let me ſee her in her danger. This Problematicall feaver has ſwept many of my acquaintance away in theſe parts: Death never gave ſhorter warning of his approch; therefore we had need ſtand upon a carefull guard of pre­paration, that when he arreſts he may not ſur­priſe. I pray preſent me very affectionately to my Siſter F. I ſhall take occaſion next week to write to both. Report ſpeakes the fractures in France to be cemented again, and the Condean••rty well ſatisfied by the Cardinalls retreat59 out of the French Confines; and tis ſaid they are upon a treaty with Spain. But the Hogens I confeſſe are anger'd into more animoſity a­gainſt us than ever I thought they would have been guilty of: They have lately impriſoned their laſt Embaſſadour, Mijn Heer PAW, ſeiz'd his goods, and pull'd down his Houſe at the Hague, for promulging his inclinations to peace, and exceeding his Commiſſion by charging Van Trump not to ſtrike a blow till he received fur­ther order; by which meanes our Eaſt-Indian ſhips and Virginian Fleet ſcap'd his fingers. I have ſent you their Declaration incloſed, which came out but yeſterday, and is ſold very private­ly. My malady continues ſtill in the ſame con­dition, ſo ſoon as I take off the plaiſter it rankles again. I pray ask my Siſter F. if my Aunt H. does not take it unkindly that I ſent her not a book; and where my Coſin A. L. now reſides, and whether her Father in Law and ſhe be ac­corded. But I roll like an unruly flood over all bankes and bounds: Dear Brother,

Eternally yours R.L.
60

LETTER XXXI. To Mr. W.

Sir,

I Cannot grant my ſelf leave to go out of this Country, without leaving a hearty Farewell with you; for ſhould I go away ſpeechleſſe, it would ſhew your miſtake in miſplacing your courteſies, and my unworthineſſe to keep back their acknowledgement; I beſeech you, Sir, then underſtand me truly ſenſible of them, and believe me deſirous to obey ſome command from you that may ſpeak me ſo. We ſet for­ward towards London on Munday next; what the journey ſignifies, how to be contriv'd, whether we ſhall ſix there, or (like Noah's Dove) finde no ſafe footing till we returne again to Haughton, or Nottingham Arke, I cannot ſay, for I think they that fill my Sailes with the breath of their commands are yet unreſolv'd: But I know my Lady loves the place ſo well, that it will take her more time to be weary of it than we are all aware of. Well, if you can inſtruct me how to ſerve you there, do it; and be confident that nei­ther an unwilling heart, nor a tardy hand, ſhall diſprove my words, that muſt ever call my ſelf

Sir,
Your true friend and faithfull Servant, R. L.
61
POSTSCRIPT.

I pray diſtribute my love and ſervice where you think they are due to thoſe that know Mrs. R. Mr. G. &c.

LETTER XXXII. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Deare Brother,

JUſtice enjoynes my confeſſion that you have made me amends for your ſilence, and pai'd me my Arrears in groſſe which I expected in particulars; for though your Letters cannot come often enough to leſſen their welcome, yet you know rarity heightens the price of things, and winds up the delight to a taller de­gree than when it goes and comes in a leſſe ſta­ture at ſeverall parcells. Conclude not from this that I deſire you ſhould write but ſeldome; for believe it, I never had recreation nor buſi­neſſe that out-priz'd the pleaſant care I alwaies took to keep our quills in play, and thus to prune the feathers, and ſtir the pinions of our amity. Let not the conceit of an Hectick get any credit with you; for tis the cuſtome of theſe Diſeaſes to lye long a gaſping before they62 dye, and like Candles new burnt out leave ſome heat in the ſocket: But I hope in a ſhort time to ſee your feares over-blown by a perfectreſtau­ration; and now you will taſte your health with ſuch a reliſh as half-ſtarv'd men do Feaſts, or the hopeleſſe inhabitant of a Dungeon his un­expected liberty. But (which deſerves both my praiſe and imitation) I am much taken with the grateful uſe you have made of Heavens bounty in relation to your deliverance; for ſince the largeſt heart is too narrow to ſet a juſt value upon ſuch favours, ſure thoſe that devoutly endeavour to bid the beſt price are beſt accepted. There are many requiſites in Chriſtianity, whoſe con­ſtant uſe does ſweetly ſet us the way to the New Jeruſalem; but thanksgiving (when currantly pai'd) does even place us in the very ſuburbs of Heaven; by it we onely take out that leſſon here whoſe repetition will be both our buſineſſe and happineſſe to all Eternity. Laſt night with yours I received thoſe rude Draughts which you had from my unskilfull hand; but (rude as they are) they are like to do me ſervice in my preſent undertaking. Wiſe men tell us (Reli­gion unconcern'd) tis weakneſſe to repent thoſe ingagements which we cannot retract with a ſafe reputation: elſe I would tell you, that if my bargaine were now to make, my Letters ſhould ſtill have ſlept in your hands, and perhaps I ſhould never have wak'd that danger63 that now threatens my credit with the ſtings of ſome juſt Criticiſmes; but the die is caſt (and what ever I loſe by it) I am reſolv'd to play out the game. I came juſt now from Sir J. P. who ask'd very kindly for you; he lookes with a kind aſpect upon me; and if my hopes deceive me not in ſome Courteſies he has power to do me, I may chance to paſſe by all the great ones that know me, and direct my Dedication to him. But of this more when I know further. I hope it will prove no taske to perſwade you that I ſhall be perfectly glad to ſee you here in London; and indeed, if your intereſt where you are be not more conſiderable than your pen con­feſſes, I can think it no better than a block to your preferment. In the meane time, while I am here, if I have a capacity to ſerve you, you cannot diſoblige me more than to be ſparing of your Commands. I have not, nor never will have any thing that is not yours; nay, my ſelf is not mine own if you have need of me; and though theſe words be not neceſſary to perſwade what you formerly believ'd, yet repe­titions in Love are onely not abſurd. Major W. returnes you his moſt affectionate reſpects; we never meet (which is very often) without ce­lebrating your remembrance and health. When you write, which cannot be too often, direct your Letters for me at one Mr. M's. Houſe living in Shandois-ſtreet in Covent-Garden, (for64 there we now lodge) right over againſt the Black-Rod. Well, Dear Brother, tis time to come to a full point; I am

Eternally yours R. L.

LETTER XXXIII. To his Siſter Mrs. F.

My Deareſt Siſter,

TIs now too late to expreſſe the paſſion I felt for what I hope you have recover'd; onely this, if a large part of what you ſuffer'd had been put upon my ſcore, I think I ſhould have pick'd out delight in the affliction, becauſe I indur'd it; for you will give me leave to be glad of your ſufferings, not becauſe they were ſo, but ſince Providence did ordaine them yours, becauſe they were no greater. My Brother told me that the Diſeaſe was not likely to han­dle you ſo rudely as it uſually doth others; and I was willing to believe him becauſe I wiſh'd it ſo. It is fit you ſhould believe that I am not only contented to wiſh you happy, but would be glad I could make you ſo by ſomething elſe beſide words: But providence thinkes it fit that I ſhould ſtill be unable to ſerve the friends I love, and therefore defers my preferment, by67 prolonging my unfortunate and coſtly malady. Well, the beſt of it is, I have ſeen too much of the world to dote upon it, and when I leave it nothing ſhall trouble me ſo much as that I could not ſerve my friends ſo well as I lov'd them; in which number you hold the fore moſt rank in his affections that is

Your really affectionate Brother to command, R. L.

LETTER XXXIV. To his Brother Maj. W.

Dear Brother,

THough to ſpeak my ſelf in your debt be not to pay the leaſt ſcruple, unleſſe thankes go currant, yet I cannot but acknowledge the freſh expreſſions of your friendſhip; nor repeat my engagement to your laſt kind entertainment and conduct, without calling my Stars penurious in allowing me no other power of requitall than a few cheap words: But, ſo, you may credit it, that if ever occaſion ſhewes me how to ſhape it in better Characters, I ſhall not be loth to wipe out the ſcore. In the meane time, all I have to ask at your hands, is, to conſtrue me right,68 and believe my meaning quadrate to my words, and nothing but want of power denies my actions the ſame proportion. I burne to heare how my poor Brother does, which I deſire to receive from your pen as exactly as poſſible. I have endeavour'd to find a convenience for our literall exchange by Lin, but as yet cannot reach any that I dare truſt to: therefore pray ſend your Letters by London, and direct them to my Shoomaker in Holborn. Preſent my entire Love to my Siſter, to honeſt Mr. B. P. Don &c. cordially; and belive it you ſhall incurre no error to ſtyle me

Sir,
Your moſt affectionate Brother and Servant R. L.

LETTER XXXV. To Mr. G.

Dear Sir,

THat I had not a line or two from your hand by Mr D. I ſuppoſe was rather miſ­chance than intention: that I eagerly expected it may be credited from my frequent importu­nities, from which I know not how you will de­fend your ſelf, ſo long as I tenebrize it here in this blind corner; where I almoſt live like a flye69 in winter, and onely play in the Sun-ſhine when I communicate with ſuch friends as your ſelf. But he tells me a ſad ſtory of J. W's. ſickneſs; which, believe it, does affect me as feelingly as can be requir'd from an unbiaſs'd friendſhip. Let me conjure you to tell by the next how I may meaſure my unhappineſſe by his danger: I was ever entirely his from the cradle of our acquain­tance; but his laſt condeſcention to fetch me to my ſick Brother makes my apprehenſion too big for my expreſſion. I pray do me the favour to receive all ſuch Letters as ſhall be directed to me through your hands; for he that did me the ſame courteſie I heare is lately dead of the new feaver. I ſhould bluſh to give you theſe troubles, if your Commiſſion had not embold­ned me; but if I do not requite, I ſhall not for­get to acknowledge. Preſent me heartily to honeſt C. W. Mr. L. and promiſe your ſelf a true friend in

R. L.
70

LETTER XXXVI. To his Brother A. L.

Deare Brother.

I Need not tell you I am now in Lincolneſhire, for I ſuppoſe you will eaſily read it in my li­terall intermiſſion. Thus to be out of the way is to be remote; ſince now the motion of our Letters muſt be more than ſemicircular, and they travell as people do in Wales, round about the hill, becauſe they cannot croſſe it in Diame­ter. When I parted with the Major at London, I confeſſe I engaged to give you and him a meeting at Holt; but ſince our arrivall here it has pleas'd God to ſtrike my Lord and Lady, one with a fever, the other with a Tertian Ague, which in all probability wil reſolve into the New Diſeaſe; which extremely rages in theſe parts, and murders abundance of people: my Lord of Lincolnes onely Brother dyed of it laſt week. This enforces a ſuſpenſion of my purpoſe, and bids me content my ſelf to ſend you my imbra­ces at this diſtance.

In this ſame voyage to the Grave, which we call Life, our condition is ſo fraile and floating, as we are nought elſe but living lumps of incer­tainty and irreſolution; ſo eaſie it is for Fortune71 (or rather Providence) to unravel our ſtrongeſt­woven deſignes, and unhinge our moſt ſerious intentions; that like the withered leaves of Au­tumn, we are the game of every blaſt, and our health the prey of every ſickly vapour. But now Dear Brother how do you? have you yet ſcap't the fangs of this new-ſpawn'd malady? Pray tender your health very carefully: for my part, I ſhould deem my ſelf in great danger in this ſtanding-pool of Aire where we live, if the hole in my arm were not my friend, in giving ſeveral paſſeports to infection and contagious vapours, which ſo long as nature has power to thruſt out at that Sally-port, my danger is not great. I pray let me know if my ſiſter Janes health be yet perfected, and how thereſt of my friends hold out againſt the batteries of a putrified Climate. Preſent me, as is due, to all that know me; pre­ſerve me in your Affections, Wiſhes and Pray­ers; and believe it, your happineſs ſhall be always mentioned in his addreſſes to heaven that is, Dear Brother,

Your own indelibly, R. L.
POSTSCRIPT.

Pray let me hear from you as ſoon as you can. Ex­cuſe my blots, for I wrote it in haste in my Ladies chamber, from whom I do not stir.

72

LETTER XXXVII. To his Brother Mr. A.L.

Dear Brother,

YOu have ſubdued me ſo entirely, and tied the knot ſo ſtrait that binds me to you, that there is as much impoſſibility to undo it, as in­gratitude to cut it: ſo as, like the miſtaken hus­band-man that tills an unfruitful Soil, you muſt expect to receive a lean crop, not becauſe the earth is unthankful, but unable. After I had ſent my laſt, I received one of your Letters that plaid the Truant by the way, with ſome pieces of the broken Glaſs, which appeared like the disjoyned ſtaves of a wrackt Veſſel thrown a­ſhore by the Tide; the Pills came ſafe, which I ſince took at twice (loth to take proofs of ſo much kindneſs, as ſinners do the gifts of heaven, not to uſe them, but abuſe them.) You give me more hope then I dare accept, in reference to that check to all the delight I can either taſte or fancie, bating ſome divine Idea's, that by a ſpecu­lative transfiguring my deſires lift me above all thoſe inconſiderable toyes that the World ran­ges under the ſmiles and frowns of Fortune: but from thence, alas, the weight of my own weakneſs weighs me down again, and I return (like an inconvertible thief) to the ſame Priſon73 from whence puniſhment ſo lately freed me. But we cannot be more then men, till we be ſtript of our clay, and put on ſomething in its ſtead that poſes our apprehenſions, and is beſt deſcribed by negatives.

I muſt make one among the admirers of your excellent fancy, that could retain the im­preſſion of a face that time might have wiped out without an almoſt juſt treſpaſs of memory: but you were born to theſe advantages, and do but methodically imbelliſh thoſe qualities in ſin­gle and ſingular performances that nature gave you in lump and ſubſtance. The old woman my laſt mentioned is with much ado gotten over the threſhold of the other World, and has be­queathed her Corps to a Nottingham-Grave; whither I believe we ſhall wait upon them about a fortnight hence, but tis yet an incertainty. What ever the Major reſolves, there muſt be more then appearance that ſhall make me for­ſake my intereſt here, though poor and contem­ptible: I know the ſtory of Aeſops dog, that let fall the fleſh to catch the ſhadow; and you the Moral. The Clock has ſtruck twelve, and my eye-lids grow unruly, therefore take it not ill if I give a dull Farewell, and abruptly call my ſelf, Dear Brother,

Yours eternally, R. L.
74

LETTER XXXVIII. To Mr. W.

My dear friend,

YOu had ſooner ſeen a reply to your laſt, had we not ſtill ſhifted places like feathers in the winds, and too much motion ſtaid my hand. I am ſorry my laſt gave ſo hard a task to your be­lief, but am glad it provoked you to breathe your fancy ſo merrily. I ſhould laviſh words to retort your ingenious glances; onely this, if you diſliked the extravagancies in it, ſuffer exceſs of joy to excuſe it, which oft like other paſſions breaks out diſorderly. Well my dear friend, let it ſuffice, there was not a fyllable that was not meant before it was ſaid, and meant becauſe deſerved. But ſince you do not like ſuch Tranſports, I ſhall learn to talk ſoberer, though never to love you with leſſe ardor. All wo­men have yet appeared ſo indifferent, as the whole Sex was never able to give me a paſſi­on, much leſs ſuch an one: what the old woman that Fate has marked for mine will do I know not; I think I ſhall honour her venerable wrin­kles, and reverence her ſpectacles; but ſhe muſt have better linings then that Sex uſe to wear within, before I can love her like ſuch a friend. Another flood of rheume has lately confuted my75 opinion of a cure, and made me recant my brags; but I do not deſpair ſuddenly to make it find a­nother channel. I pray let your next tell me whe­ther Mr. S. does yet mention the token to you; for if you permit, I can tell how to hint it without reflecting upon you. I am much afflicted, and up­braid the ſhortneſs of my chains, when I find I cannot ſerve you as I would, and do wrangle with every acceſſary to our ſtay in this dull Countrey; but all alas to little purpoſe, for our return to London is both uncertain and unlikely. Our friends in Norfolk and Suffolk I hope are well, onely my ſiſter Fenner is now ſick of the Small-Pox; but in my next I will be able to render you a more particular account of yours, which I ſhall receive from my Brother. If you would write to any there, tis but venturing a requeſt to M. H. to deliver it to the Norfolk-Poſt, and take their anſwers from him to ſend to you. The man is honeſt and friendly, and I know loves you e­nough to do much more: I have excuſed you to him. My Lord returns your reſpects with much affection, and I think has much love for you. Good Sir, reſalute your friend from his un­known ſervant with much reſpect, and tell him I ſhall gladly do any thing that may deſerve his love. But I ſhall grow too talkative; I have no more to ſay but to beg you will ſtill underſtand me, as I muſt ever be, my dear friend,

Yours eternally, R. L.
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LETTER XXXIX. To his Brother Mr. A. L.

Loving Brother,

IT were ſuperfluous to repeat how little the treachery of new objects, freſh acquaintance, long abſence, change of place, &c. is able to do in quenching that affection which I ſhall keep alive with the ſame care that Vest als did their ſacred flame. This you have often had under my hand and ſeal; and you may be confident it will never be forfeited. We are again ſetled at Nottingham, where the advantage of a larger leiſure to write is checked by the ſcarcity of opportunities; but rarity does raiſe the price of delight, we ſet a trivial eſteem upon joyes that come at a low rate, but indulge thoſe we ſweat for: and thus we ſhall entertain our Letters like our ſelves when we meet ſeldom, nothing ſo much endearing the perſonal interview of friends, as when ſome large portion of time has crept betwixt them. As we came down, one of Fortunes ſpightful tricks (of which, I thank her, to me ſhe has always been very liberal) made me loſe the taſte of a pleaſant journey, which was thus; The day of our ſetting our appointed, I conſented to the earneſt ſolicites of my dear Mr. W. (then in the Countrey) to let him know77 it; caus'd by a deſire of his to meet me at S. Al­bans, where we had decreed to ſhorten a night together with ſuch mutual ſolace as would have ſuffered its houres to paſs by untold: in hope of this he came little leſs then fourty miles on pur­poſe; which trouble he would needs undertake in lieu of ſome petty ſervices I was happy to do him in his abſence; but upon the brink of our taking leave a Whimſey predominated, and we muſt needs go another way by Alesbury; which though I oppoſed as far as I durſt, was carried a­gainſt me, and my hopes of ſo much delight were ſacrificed to an inconvenience; for we went ten miles about for a worſe way, loſt a Gentle­man and a Foot-man that were ſent the other, and my vertuous friend (after two nights ſtay) returned with abuſed expectations: I never took a peeviſh chance with leſſe patience. My Mala­dy ſtill continues to afflict me; I pray let the Doctor know with what little ſucceſs I have ob­ſerved his preſcriptions, and if he can bethink himſelf of any other courſe that may prove more effectual I ſhall gladly uſe it: I ſee purging will not do it, and the powder never made me ſneeze to purpoſe. Pray tell him I have a ſtrange conceit that ſome Chymical application ſhould effect it. You will much oblige me to propound it to as many skills as you ſhall converſe with, and to ſend me their ſeveral judgements at your beſt convenience, while I ſtrive to do as much78 where I am. I would not dare to give you this trouble, if I were not confident that you loved

Your own R. L.
POSTSCRIPT.

If I could but ſhift this unhappy trouble, I would not yet doubt to adde figures to the cyphers of my thin fortunes.

LETTER XL. To his Nephew Mr. A. L.

Dear Couſin