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CCXI. SOCIABLE LETTERS, WRITTEN BY THE Thrice Noble, Illustrious, and | |
Excellent PRINCESS, THE LADY MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. | |
LONDON Printed by WILLIAM WILSON, Anno Doom. M. DC. LXIV. | |
TO THE LADY MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE, On her Book of EPISTLES. | |
when all Epistlers you have read, and seek, | |
Who writ in Latin, English, French, or Greek, | |
Such Woeful things, as they are only fit | |
To stop Mustard-pots, to this Lady's Wit, | |
Nay, were they all Alive, I Swear, I think | |
They'd Burn their Books, and Throw away their Ink, | |
Make Pick-Tooths of their Pens, and for their Paper, | |
Only to light Tobacco, and each Taper; | |
Y'have Spoiled Commerce, Intelligencers, Trade, | |
None now dares write a Letter, so Afraid | |
To be thought Fools, and is the Carriers Curse, | |
To find his Empty Budget, and Lank Purse, | |
Nay the Post-house's Ruined, and will Complain, | |
From their Vast Gettings now they have no Gain; | |
All now by Word of Mouth, and what is spoken, | |
Or Gilded Nutmegs, or each Tavern-token, | |
Nicked Sticks for Merchants, Why would you Undo | |
Your self at once thus, and the whole World too? | |
After my Hearty Commendations, This, | |
The Style of States-men still Applauded is; | |
Your Flames of Wit, this Age may think a Sin, | |
A Proclamation then may call it in. | |
W. NEVVCASTLE. | |
TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE LORD MARQUESS OF NEWCASTLE. | |
MY LORD, | |
IT may be said to me, as one said to a Lady, Work Lady, Work, let writing | |
Books alone, For surely Wiser Women ne'er writ one; But your Lordship never bid | |
me to Work, nor leave Writing, except when you would persuade me to spare so | |
much time from my Study as to take the Air for my Health; the truth is, My | |
Lord, I cannot Work, I mean such Works as Ladies use to pass their Time | |
withal, and if I could, the Materials of such Works would cost more than the | |
Work would be worth, besides all the Time and Pains bestowed upon it. You may | |
ask me, what Works I mean; I answer, Needle-works, Spinning-works, | |
Preserving-works, as also Baking, and Cooking-works, as making Cakes, Pies, | |
Puddings, and the like, all which I am Ignorant of; and as I am Ignorant in | |
these Employments, so I am Ignorant in Gaming, Dancing, and Revelling; But yet, | |
I must ask you leave to say, that I am not a Dunce in all Employments, for I | |
Understand the Keeping of Sheep, and Ordering of a Grange, indifferently well, | |
although I do not Busy my self much with it, by reason my Scribbling takes away | |
the most part of my Time. Perchance some may say, that if my Understanding be | |
most of Sheep, and a Grange, it is a Beastly Understanding; My answer is, I | |
wish Men were as Harmless as most Beasts are, then surely the World would be | |
more Quiet and Happy than it is, for then there would not be such Pride, | |
Vanity, Ambition, Covetousness, Faction, Treachery, and Treason, as is now; | |
Indeed one might very well say in his Prayers to God, O Lord God, I beseech | |
thee of thy Infinite Mercy, make Man so, and order his Mind, Thoughts, | |
Passions, and Appetites, like Beasts, that they may be Temperate, Sociable, | |
Laborious, Patient, Prudent, Provident, Brotherly-loving, and Neighbourly-kind, | |
all which Beasts are, but most Men not. But leaving most Men to Beasts, I | |
return to your Lordship, who is one of the Best of men, whom God hath filled | |
with Heroic Fortitude, Noble Generosity, Poetical Wit, Moral Honesty, Natural | |
Love, Neighbourly-kindness, Great Patience, Loyal Duty, and Celestial Piety, | |
and I pray God as Zealously and Earnestly to Bless you with Perfect Health and | |
Long Life, as becomes | |
Your Lordships Honest Wife and Humble Servant M. Newcastle. | |
TO ALL PROFESSORS OF Learning and Art. | |
Most Famously Learned, | |
I Wish I could Write so Wisely, Wittily, Eloquently, and Methodically, as | |
might be Worthy of your Perusal; but if any of your Noble Profession should | |
Humble themselves so Low as to Read my Works, or part of them, I pray Consider | |
my Sex and Breeding, and they will fully Excuse those Faults which must | |
Unavoidably be found in my Works. But although I have no Learning, yet give me | |
leave to Admire it, and to wish I were one of your Society, for certainly, were | |
I Empress of the World, I would Advance those that have most Learning and | |
Wit, by which I believe the Earth would rather be an Heaven, since both Men | |
and Government would be as Celestial, for I am Confident that Wisdom, and for | |
the most part Virtue, is Inherent in those that are Masters of Learning, and | |
Endued with Wit; And to this sort of Persons I do Offer my Works, although to | |
be Condemned on the Altar of their Censure, and rest Satisfied with the Honour | |
that they thought them Worthy to be Judged. Thus, whether my Works Live or | |
Dye, I am Devoted to be | |
Your Servant M. N. | |
THE PREFACE. | |
Noble Readers, | |
I Hope you will not make the Mistake of a Word a Crime in my Wit, as some | |
former Readers have done, for in my Poems they found Fault that the Number was | |
not Just, nor every Line Matched with a Perfect Rime; But I can answer for that | |
Book, that there be but some such Errors in it, and those as it were by Chance; | |
besides, in some Languages, as Latin and Greek, which are accounted the Chief, | |
they regard not Rimes in their Poems, but only an Exact number of Feet and | |
Measures; however Rimes and Numbers are only as the Garments, and not as the | |
Body of Wit; but I have been more Exact in my other Book called Natural | |
Descriptions, wherein most Verses are Just both for Number and Rimes. As for my | |
Work, The VVorld's Olio, they may say some Words are not Exactly Placed, | |
which I confess to be very likely, and not only in that, but in all the rest of | |
my Works there may be such Errors, for I was not Bred in an University, or a | |
Free-School, to Learn the Art of Words; neither do I take it for a | |
Disparagement of my Works, to have the Forms, Terms, Words, Numbers, or Rymes | |
found Fault with, so they do not find Fault with the Variety of the Subjects, | |
or the Sense and Reason, Wit, and Fancy, for I leave the Formal, or VVorditive | |
part to Fools, and the Material or Sensitive part to Wise men. Concerning my | |
Philosophical Opinions, some did say, they were too Obscure, and not Plain | |
Enough for their Understanding; I must confess, I writ that Book at first at | |
the same time when I wrote my Poems, but to my Reason it was as Plain as I | |
could write it, and if some Readers could not Understand it, I am not Nature to | |
give them Wit and Understanding; yet have I since not only Over-viewed, and | |
Reformed that Book, but made a great Addition to it, so that I believe, I have | |
now so clearly Declared my Sense and Meaning therein, that those which | |
Understand it not must not only be Irrational, but Insensible Creatures. As for | |
my Book of Plays, some find Fault they are not made up Exactly, nor the Scenes | |
placed Justly, as also I have not in some Plays caused all the Actors to be of | |
an Acquaintance, but this same Fault they find, I have Expressed in one of the | |
Epistles before that Book, which they fling back upon my Work. As for my | |
Orations, I have heard, that some do Censure me for speaking too Freely, and | |
Patronizing Vice too much, but I would have them not to be too Rash in Judging, | |
but to Consider, first, whether there be a sufficient Reason that may move them | |
to give such a Censure, for truly I am as much an Enemy to Vice, as I am a | |
Friend to Virtue, do Persecute Vice with as perfect an Hatred, as I do Pursue | |
Virtue, with an Entire, and Pure Love, which is Sufficiently Known to those | |
that Know me; and therefore, it is not out of Love to Vice that I Plead for it, | |
but only to Exercise my Fancy, for surely the Wisest, and Eloquentest Orators, | |
have not been Ashamed to Defend Vices upon such Accounts, and why may not I do | |
the like? for my Orations for the most part are Declamations, wherein I speak | |
Pro and Con, and Determine nothing; and as for that Part which contains several | |
Pleadings, it is Fit and Lawful that both Parties should bring in their | |
Arguments as well as they can, to make their Cases Good; but I matter not their | |
Censure, for it would be an Endless Trouble to me, to Answer every ones Foolish | |
Exception; an Horse of a Noble Spirit Slights the Bawling of a Petty Cur, and | |
so do I. As for the Present Book of Letters, I know not as yet what Aspersion | |
they will lay upon it, but I fear they'll say, they are not written in a | |
Modestyle, that is, in a Complementing, and Romancical way, with High Words, | |
and Mystical Expressions, as most of our Modern Letter-writers use to do; But, | |
Noble Readers, I do not intend to Present you here with Long Complements in | |
Short Letters, but with Short Descriptions in Long Letters; the truth is, they | |
are rather Scenes than Letters, for I have Endeavoured under the Cover of | |
Letters to Express the Humours of Mankind, and the Actions of Man's Life by the | |
Correspondence of two Ladies, living at some Short Distance from each other, | |
which make it not only their Chief Delight and Pastime, but their Tie in | |
Friendship, to Discourse by Letters, as they would do if they were Personally | |
together, so that these Letters are an Imitation of a Personal Visitation and | |
Conversation, which I think is Better (I am sure more Profitable) than those | |
Conversations that are an Imitation of Romancical Letters, which are but Empty | |
Words, and Vain Complements. But the Reason why I have set them forth in the | |
Form of Letters, and not of Plays, is, first, that I have put forth Twenty | |
Plays already, which number I thought to be Sufficient, next, I saw that | |
Variety of Forms did Please the Readers best, and that lastly they would be | |
more taken with the Brevity of Letters, than the Formality of Scenes, and whole | |
Plays, whose Parts and Plots cannot be Understood till the whole Play be Read | |
over, whereas a Short Letter will give a Full Satisfaction of what they Read. | |
And thus I thought this to be the Best Way or Form to put this Work into, which | |
if you Approve of, I have my Reward. | |
UPON HER EXCELLENCY THE AUTHORESS. | |
THis Lady only to her self she VVrites, | |
And all her Letters to her self Indites; | |
For in her self so many Creatures be, | |
Like many Commonwealths, yet all Agree. | |
Man's Head's a World, where Thoughts are Born and Bred, | |
And Reason's Emperor in every Head; | |
But in all Heads doth not a Caesar Reign, | |
A Wise Augustus hath not every Brain, | |
And Reason in some Brains from Rule's put out | |
By Mad, Rebellious Thoughts, and Factious Rout; | |
And Great Disorder in such Brains will be, | |
Not any Thought with Reason will Agree; | |
But in her Brain doth Reason Govern well, | |
Not any Thought against Reason doth Rebel, | |
But doth Obey what Reason doth Command, | |
When 'tis his Will, doth Travel Sea and Land, | |
As some do Travel out to Kingdoms far, | |
And Guided are by Observation's Star, | |
They bring Intelligence from every State, | |
Their Peace, their Wars, their Factions, and their Hate, | |
And into every City Travel free, | |
Relate their Customs, Trafficks, Policy, | |
Observe each Magistrate, their Formal Face, | |
And what Authority they bear, or Place, | |
Whether they Covetously do Extort, | |
Or are Ambitious, giving Bribes at Court, | |
To Raise to Places, or to Hide their Crime, | |
For thus Men do to Wealth and Office Clime; | |
And some into the Churches go to see | |
Who Kneels in Prayer, or comes for Company, | |
Who Courts his Mistress as his only Saint, | |
Implores her Favour, and makes his Complaint | |
Be Known, Or who doth turn her eyes about, | |
To show her Face, or seek a Lover out; | |
And some to Balls, and Masks, and Plays do go, | |
And some do Crowd to see a Pagan Show, | |
And some within Kings Courts do get a Place, | |
Observe the Grandeur, and the Courtly Grace, | |
The Ceremony and Splendour of a Court, | |
Their Plays, Balls, Masks, and every several Sport, | |
And all their Amorous Courtships which they make, | |
And how the Ladies do each Courtship take, | |
The Antic Postures of the Younger Race, | |
Their Mimic Gestures, and Affected Pace, | |
Their Amorous Smiles, and Glancing Wanton Eyes, | |
All which do Noble Souls Hate and Despise; | |
And some amongst the Privy-Counsel get, | |
Where round a Table Prince and Nobles sit, | |
Hear what they say, Observe their Cross Debates, | |
And mark which speaks through Faction, or which Hates | |
Some Lord that is in Favour more than he, | |
For in States Matters seldom they Agree. | |
And thus Her Thoughts, the Creatures of her Mind, | |
Do Travel through the World amongst Mankind, | |
And then Return, and to the Mind do bring | |
All the Relations of each several thing; | |
And Observation Guides them back again | |
To Reason, their Great King, that's in the Brain: | |
Then Contemplation calls the Senses straight, | |
Which Ready are, and Diligently Wait, | |
Commanding Two these Letters for to Write, | |
Touch in the Hand, as also the Eye-sight, | |
These Two the Soul's Clerks are, which do Inscribe, | |
And Write all Truly down, having no Bribe. | |
TO THE CENSORIOUS READER. | |
REader, you'll think, perchance, my Wit in Fault, | |
Like Meat that's too much Brin'd, and Oversalt, | |
But better Poets far than I have been, | |
Have written Sharper, and with Greater Spleen, | |
Yet they have much been Praised for writing so, | |
And on Advancing Stigues of Fame do go; | |
But my Poor Writings they no Malice know, | |
Nor on a Crabbed Nature did they Grow; | |
I to Particulars give no Abuse, | |
My Wit Indites for Profitable Use, | |
That Men may see their Follies, and their Crimes, | |
Their Errors, Vanities, and Idle Times, | |
Not that I think they do not Know them well, | |
But lest they should Forget, Im' Bold to tell, | |
For to Remember them, like those that Ride, | |
Not thinking, on their Way, may chance to Slide, | |
Or Fall into a Ditch, so I for Fear | |
Bid them take Heed, Beware, and have a Care, | |
For there are Stumps of Trees, or a Deep Pit, | |
Or Dangerous Passages where Thieves do sit | |
And Wait, or Ravenous Beasts do lye for Prey, | |
Or such a Lane where's Foul and Dirty Way, | |
And so of VVaters, and each Dangerous place: | |
But I write not to any mans Disgrace; | |
Then Censure not my Satyr-wit for Crime, | |
Nor putting this Epistle into Rime. | |
SOCIABLE LETTERS. | |
I. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased to desire, that, since we cannot converse Personally, we | |
should converse by Letters, so as if we were speaking to each other, | |
discoursing our Opinions, discovering our Designs, asking and giving each other | |
Advice, also telling the several Accidents, and several Employments of our | |
home-affairs, and what visits we receive, or entertainments we make, and whom | |
we visit, and how we are entertained, what discourses we have in our | |
gossiping-meetings, and what reports we hear of public affairs, and of | |
particular Persons, and the like; so that our Letters may present our personal | |
meetings and associatings. Truly, Madam, I take so much delight in your wise, | |
witty, and virtuous Conversation, as I could not pass my life more pleasing and | |
delightfully; wherefore I am never better pleased, than when I am reading your | |
Letters, and when I am writing Letters to you; for my mind and thoughts are all | |
that while in your Company: the truth is, my mind and thoughts live always | |
with you, although my person is at distance from you; insomuch, as, if Souls | |
die not as Bodies do, my Soul will attend you when my Body lies in the grave; | |
and when we are both dead, we may hope to have a Conversation of Souls, where | |
yours and mine will be doubly united, first in Life, and then in Death, in | |
which I shall eternally be, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and humble Servant. | |
II. | |
MADAM, | |
THe Lady C. E. ought not to be reproved for grieving for the loss of her | |
Beauty, for Beauty is the Light of our Sex, which is Eclipsed in Middle age, | |
and Benighted in Old age, wherein our Sex sits in Melancholy Darkness, and the | |
remembrance of Beauty past, is as a displeasing Dream. The truth is, a young | |
beautiful face is a Friend, when as an old withered face is an Enemy, the one | |
causes Love, the other Aversion: yet I am not of Mrs. U. R.'s. humour, which | |
had rather dye before her Beauty, than that her Beauty should die before her: | |
for I had rather live with wrinkles, than die with youth; and had rather my | |
face clothed with Time's sad mourning, than with Death's white hue; and surely | |
it were better to follow the shadow of Beauty, than that Beauty should go with | |
the Corps to the Grave; and I believe that Mrs. V. R. would do, as the tale is | |
of a woman, that did wish, and pray she might die before her Husband, but when | |
Death came, she entreated him to spare her, and take her Husband; so that she | |
would rather live without him, than die for him. But leaving this sad discourse | |
of Age, Wrinkles, Ruin and Death, I rest, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Friend, and Servant. | |
III. | |
MADAM, | |
I Do not wonder, there are great factions between the three families C. Y. O. | |
by reason they have no business, or employment to busy their heads about, and | |
their servants followers have as little to do, which makes them censure, | |
backbite, and envy each other; for Idleness and Poverty are the creators of | |
Faction, and Pride and Ambition the disturbers of Peace. Wherefore Idleness | |
should be banished out of every family, which will also be a means to be rid of | |
Poverty, for Industry is the way to thrive: Besides, when men have something to | |
do, they will have the less time to talk; for many words from discontented | |
persons increase hate, and make dissentions: the truth is, words for the most | |
part make more discord than union, and more enemies than friends; wherefore | |
Silence is more commendable than much Speaking, for the liberty of the tongue | |
doth rather express men's follies, than make known their wit; neither do many | |
words argue much Judgement; but as the old Saying is, The greatest talkers are | |
the least actors, they being more apt to speak spitefully, than to act | |
mischievously; another Saying is, That musing men rather study to do evil, than | |
contemplate on good; But I am not of that opinion, for if men would think more, | |
and speak less, the world of mankind would be more honest and wiser than they | |
are, for Thoughts beget Consideration, Consideration begets Judgement, | |
Judgement begets Discretion, Discretion begets Temperance, and Temperance | |
begets Peace in the Mind, and Health in the Body, for when men want Temperance, | |
they are subject to Insatiable Appetites, unruly Passions, and wandering | |
Desires, which causes Covetousness and Ambition, and these cause Envy and Hate, | |
which makes Faction and Strife, which Strife I leave to Busy Natures, Restless | |
Minds, Vain Humours, and Idle Fools, and rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
IV. | |
MADAM, | |
THe other day was here the Lady I. O. to see me, and her three Daughters, | |
which are called the three Graces, the one is Black, the other Brown, the third | |
White, all three different coloured beauties; also they are of different | |
features, statures and shapes, yet all three so equally handsome, that neither | |
Judgment nor Reason can prefer one before another: Also their behaviours are | |
different; the one is Majestic, the other Gay and Aerie, the third Meek and | |
Bashful; yet all three graceful, sweet and becoming: Also their Wits are | |
different; the one Propounds well, the other Argues well, the third Resolves | |
well; all which make a harmony in discourse. These three Ladies are resolved | |
never to marry, which makes many sad Lovers; but whilst they were here, in | |
comes the Lord S. C. and discoursing with them, at last he asks them, whether | |
they were seriously resolved never to marry? they answered, they were resolved | |
never to marry: But, Ladies, said he, Consider, Time wears out Youth, and fades | |
Beauty, and then you will not be the three young fair Graces; You say true, my | |
Lord, answered one of them, but when we leave to be the young fair Graces, we | |
shall then be the old wise Sibyls. By this answer you may perceive, that when | |
our Sex cannot pretend to be Fair, they will pretend to be Wise; but it matters | |
not what we pretend to, if we be really Virtuous, which I wish all our Sex may | |
be, and rest, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Friend and Servant. | |
V. | |
MADAM, | |
IN my opinion the marriage between Sir A. G. and Mrs. I. S. is no ways | |
agreeable, wherefore not probable to be blessed with a happy union, though she | |
is likelier to be the happier of the two; for 'tis better to have an old doting | |
fool, than a wanton young filly; but he will be very unhappy through Jealousy, | |
what with his Dotage, and her Freedom, which will be like fire and oil, to set | |
his mind on a flame, and burn out the lamp of his life: Truly, I did wonder, | |
when I heard they were married, knowing her nature and his humour, for she | |
loves young masculine Company, and he loves only young female Companion; so | |
that he cannot enjoy her to himself, unless she barr her self from all other | |
men for his sake, which I believe she will not do, for she will not bury her | |
Beauty, nor put her Wit to silence for the sake of her Husband; for, if I be | |
not mistaken, she will love a young Servant better than an old Husband; nay, if | |
her Husband were young, she would prefer variety of Servants, before a single | |
Husband, insomuch, that if she had been made, when there was but One man, as | |
Adam, she would have done like her Grand mother Eve, as to have been courted by | |
the Devil, and would betray her Husband for the Devil's sake, rather than want | |
a Lover. But leaving the discourse of Jealousy, Age, Courtship, and Devils, I | |
rest, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Fr. S. | |
VI. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you sent me word, that Sir F. O. was retired to write his | |
own Life, for he says, he knows no reason, but he may write his own life as | |
well as Guzman; and since you desire my opinion of his intended work, I can | |
only say, that his Life for any thing I know to the contrary, hath been as | |
evil as Guzman's, but whether his Wit be as good as Guzman's, I know not, yet | |
I doubt the worst, and to write an Evil life without Wit, will be but a | |
dull and tedious Story, indeed so tedious and dull, as I believe none will take | |
the pains to read it, unless he himself read of himself: but it is to be hoped, | |
that he will be tired of himself, and so desist from his self Story. And if he | |
do write his own Life, it will be as a masking Dolphin, or such like thing, | |
where the outside is painted past-board or canvas, and the inside stuffed with | |
shreds of paper, or dirty rags, scraped from dunghills: and if he set his | |
Picture before, as a Frontispiece to his Book, it will be like an ill-favour'd | |
masking Vizard. But if he have any Friends, surely they will persuade him to | |
employ his time about something else; but some are so unhappy, as they have | |
nothing to employ Time with; they can waste Time, but not employ Time; and as | |
they waste Time, so Time wastes them. There's a saying, That men are born to | |
live, and live to dye; but I think some are only born to dye, and not to live; | |
for they make small use of life, and life makes small use of them; so that in | |
effect they were ready for the Grave, as soon as they came forth from the Womb. | |
Wherefore if Sir F. O. go forward with his work, he will dig his Grave through | |
the story of his Life, and his Soul-less Wit will be buried therein. But | |
leaving his dead Wit to his paper Coffin, and his unprofitable Labours to his | |
black mourning Ink, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
VII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am sorry to hear, Wit is so little known and understood, that Sir W. T. | |
should be thought Mad, because he hath more Wit than other men; indeed Wit | |
should always converse with Wit, and Fools with Fools; for Wit and Fools can | |
never agree, they understand not one another; Wit flies beyond a Fools conceit | |
or understanding, for Wit is like an Eagle, it hath a strong wing, and flies | |
high and far, and when it doth descend, it knocks a Fool on the head, as an | |
Eagle doth a Dotril, or a Woodcock, or such like Birds; and surely the world | |
was never so filled with Fools, as it is in this age, nor hath there been | |
greater Errors, or grosser Follies committed than there hath been in this age: | |
It is not an age like Augustus Caesar's, when Wisdom reigned, and Wit | |
flourished, which was the cause of Plenty Peace throughout the whole world: but | |
in this age Debauchery is taken for Wit, and Faction for Wisdom, Treachery for | |
Policy, and drunken Quarrels for Valour: Indeed the world is so foolishly | |
Wicked, basely Foolish, that they are happiest who can withdraw themselves most | |
from it: But when I say the world, I mean the world of Men, or rather the | |
Bodies of Men, for there doth not seem to be many Rational Souls amongst them, | |
they are Soul-less men, Bodies of men that have only Senses and Appetites, or | |
Sensual Appetites. But you say, every Particular complains of the world, as I | |
do in this Letter, yet None helps to mend it. Let me tell you, Madam, it is not | |
in the power of every Particular, nor in a number, But the Chiefest persons | |
must mend the world; viz. they that govern the world, or else the world will be | |
out at the heels. But in some ages the world is more tattered and torn, than in | |
other ages; and in some ages the world is patched and pieced, but seldom new | |
and suitable; and it is oftener in a Fools-coat than in a Grave Cassock. | |
Wherefore leaving the motley, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
VIII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased to invite me unto a Ball, to divert my Melancholy Thoughts, | |
but they are not capable of your Charity, for they are in too deep a Melancholy | |
to be diverted; like as bodies that are starved, and almost dying for hunger, | |
so weak as they cannot feed, at least, that want strength to nourish or digest, | |
having not life enough to re-inkindle the vital fire, which want of food hath | |
near put out. Thus, Madam, I do not refuse your Charity, but I am not capable | |
to receive it; Besides, my very outward appearance would rather be an | |
Obstruction to your Mirth, than any Addition to your Pleasures, and for me, it | |
would be very improper; for a grieved heart, weeping eyes, sad countenance, and | |
black mourning garments, will not be suitable with dancing legs; In truth, my | |
leaden Spirits have soder'd up my Joints so stiff, that they will not move so | |
agilly, as is required in Dancing; I am fitter to sit upon a Grave, than to | |
tread measures on a Carpet; and there is such an Antipathy in my mind to light | |
Aires, that they would sooner stop my Ears as Discord, than enter into my | |
Hearing as Harmony; indeed my Senses are as closed or shut from the world, and | |
my Mind is benighted in Sorrow, insomuch as I have not one lighted thought, | |
they are all put out with the memory of my Loss. Thus, Madam, Memory hath made | |
an Oblivion; but though it hath buried for the present the worldly Joys of my | |
Life, yet it hath not buried my grateful Thanks for your Favours, for which I | |
am, | |
Madam, Your most humble S. | |
IX. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter I perceive that the Lady N. P. is an actor in some | |
State-design, or at least would be thought so, for our Sex in this age, is | |
ambitious to be State-Ladies, that they may be thought to be Wise Women; but | |
let us do what we can, we shall prove our selves Fools, for Wisdom is an enemy | |
to our Sex, or rather our Sex is an enemy to Wisdom. 'Tis true, we are full of | |
Designs and Plots, and ready to side into Factions; but Plotting, Designing, | |
Factions, belong nothing to Wisdom, for Wisdom never intermeddles therein or | |
therewith, but renounces them; it is only cheating Craft and Subtilty that are | |
the managers thereof: and for deceiving Craft, Women are well practised | |
therein, and most of them may be accounted Politicians; for no question but | |
Women may, can, and oftentimes do make wars, especially Civil wars; witness our | |
late Civil war, wherein Women were great, although not good actors; for though | |
Women cannot fight with warring arms themselves, yet they can easily inflame | |
men's minds against the Governors and Governments, unto which Men are too apt | |
even without the persuasion of Women, as to make innovation through envy and | |
emulation, in hopes of advancement in Title, Fortune and Power, of which Women | |
are as ambitious as Men; but I wish for the honour of our Sex, that Women could | |
as easily make peace as war, though it is easier to do evil than good, for | |
every fool can make an uproar, and a tumultuous disorder, such as the wisest | |
can hardly settle into order again. But Women in State-affairs can do as they | |
do with themselves, they can, and do often make themselves sick, but when they | |
are sick, not well again: So they can disorder a State, as they do their | |
Bodies, but neither can give Peace to the one, nor Health to the other; but | |
their restless Minds, and unsatiable Appetites, do many times bring Ruin to the | |
one, and Death to the other; for Temperance and Quietness are strangers to our | |
Sex. But leaving the Lady N. P. to her petty Designs, and weak Plots, I rest, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Fr. and S. | |
X. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you were pleased to tell me for news, that C. V. was newly | |
made a Lord; truly he deserves it, and if his Title were to be measured, it | |
would be far short of his Merit, but it is a greater honour to have more Merit | |
than Title, than to have more Title than Merit. Indeed Title ought to be but as | |
a Sign; as the King's Arms or Picture to a Shop of a rich Merchandise; so Title | |
should be but to have it known there is a worthy Person, who is full of Noble | |
Qualities, Moral Virtues, Sweet Graces, Divine Influences, Learned Sciences, | |
Wise Counsels, and the like, which ought to be commerced and trafficked within | |
the world, for their own and others good, benefit and pleasure; for the riches | |
of the Mind must do as other riches, which is to disperse about, not to lie | |
unprofitably hid, and horded up from all use; but they ought to be as Staple | |
Commodities, and not as Trifles of Vanity, which wear out, or are laid by, as | |
men's humours change, and are more for fashion than benefit. But some men seem | |
to be richer than they are, and some to be poorer than they are; they that seem | |
richer than they are, lay all in their outward Shops, and those that seem | |
poorer than they are, lay all in their inward Ware-houses: Those that lay all | |
in their outward Shops are vain-glorious Persons, those that lay all in their | |
inward Ware-houses are magnanimous Persons; But women's Minds or Souls are like | |
Shops of small-wares, wherein some have pretty toys, but nothing of any great | |
value. I imagine you will chide me for this opinion, and I should deserve to be | |
chidden, if all Women were like to you; but you are but one, and I speak of | |
Women, not of One woman; and thus I am neither injurious to You, nor partial to | |
our Sex; but I wish with all my heart, our whole Sex were like you, so I might | |
hope to be one of your Copies, and though you are an example not to be | |
patterned, yet I will endeavour to imitate you as much as I can, by which I may | |
be so much the more worthy to be | |
Your Ladyships Humble Servant. | |
XI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Hear the Lady B. A. and the lady C. D. are gone to be Courtiers, but I | |
believe they will neither agree with the Court, nor the Court with them; for | |
the one hath been bred fitter for a Nunnery than a Court, and the other bred to | |
good housewifery, fitter for the Country than a Court; the truth is, Sparing is | |
unnatural for a Courtier, and Praying is not usual for a Courtier, yet those | |
Ladies that are Beautiful are made Saints there, and the men are their Devouts, | |
which offer them Vows, Prayers, Praises, and sometimes Thanksgiving, and many | |
times they are Penitents; but when the Ladies Beauties decay, the men become | |
Apostates. Thus you may see many of our Sex are made Saints, though they be | |
Sinners, but they are Sainted for theit Beauty, not for their Piety, for their | |
outward Form, not for their inward Grace: Indeed they are worldly Saints, and | |
the Court is their Heaven, and Nature their Goddess, which indues them with | |
attractive Graces; to which I leave them, and rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
XII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Hear the Lady D. C. makes Politic feasts and entertainments, feasting the | |
Courtiers, and entertaining them with dancing and carding, to whom she doth | |
Politically lose her money, and causes her husband to lend them money out of a | |
Policy, and 'tis likely she will Politically ruin her husband; for I believe she | |
is more Politic with her husband than with the Courtiers, and they more | |
Politic with her than her husband. But many wives will persuade their husbands | |
to invite company, pretending some Designs, whenas their chief Design is, to | |
have Company; and they will be very free and frolic with their guests, making | |
their husbands believe they are so only to compass, or bring their Designs to | |
pass; so as they make their husbands Pimps to Cuckold themselves, who think | |
their wives wise women, both in their Counsels and Actions: Such, and the like | |
inventions and excuses wives have to be in company; and it is to be observed, | |
that those wives that love freedom and company, will be so very kind to their | |
husbands when they bring home company, or are with such company as they like, | |
that not only strangers, but their husbands think them for that time the best | |
wives in the world; whenas being all alone, to their husbands, the Furies are | |
no more turbulent, nor worse natured than they; But in much company all is as | |
their husbands please, whether to dance or play; upon which kind words and | |
humble behaviour, their husbands are so ravished with joy, as then it is what | |
their wives please; nay, they entreat their vvives to please themselves, and | |
approve of all they say or do. Other vvives, to get, or be in company, will | |
insinuatingly flatter, and persuade their husbands, that they are the wisest, | |
or wittiest men in the world, and that there is none that knows how to | |
entertain company but they; that for their own parts they hate much company, as | |
nothing so tedious and troublesome, and only take delight to see their | |
husbands entertain guests, and love to hear them discourse with strangers, | |
their wit and behaviour being so far above others; and to encourage their | |
husbands, or to flatter them the more, they will repeat their Discourses when | |
they are alone together, as how well such or such a question was resolved, or | |
how wittily such or such a one was answered, and the like; whereupon the | |
husband often invites company, only for his wife to hear his supreme Wit, wise | |
Sentences, and to see his grave Entertainments, whenas his wife laughs in her | |
mind to hear what a Fool, and to see what a formal Coxcomb, and how | |
self-conceited he is. Thus most husbands are either deluded with Politic | |
wives, or forced to obey, or humour their Turbulent and Peevish wives, or | |
deceived by their Insinuating and Flattering wives, to betray themselves. But | |
fearing I should divulge too much of the nature of our Sex, I stop here, and | |
rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. S. | |
XIII. | |
MADAM, | |
MOst of Mrs. L. A's. discourse is of her self, indeed every one is apt to | |
speak of himself, as being full of self-love, which makes most tongues | |
discourse of a self-theme; but her theme is, to tell how good a Wife she will | |
make when she is married, although the proof will be after she is married, if | |
she can get a Husband; for I believe she wants one, and desires one, because | |
she talks so much of a Husband, and promises so well for a Husband. Truly, it | |
is to be observed, that all Maids love to talk of Husbands, all VVidows of | |
Suitors, and all VVives of Lovers: for men may marry, nay do often marry, yet | |
not for Love, but for Interest, as for Posterity, or the like; and Suitors may | |
woo, yet not for Love, but Interest, as for Wealth, or the like; But when | |
Amorous Lovers plead, it is for no other design, but to lie with the Woman | |
they make their address to; and married VVives are more apt to yield than Maids | |
or VVidows, having a cloak to cover their shame or reproach, and a husband to | |
father their children; and they are more fond of amorous Courtships than Maids | |
or VVidows, because they are more barred, as being bound in Wedlock's-bonds: | |
besides, it requires more secrecy and difficulty, both which Women love. But | |
when Maids, Widows, and Wives, talk of Husbands, Suitors and Lovers, they are so | |
delighted with the Discourse, as you may perceive, not only by their Speech, | |
being then quicker, and their Wit sharper, and Words fluenter, but also by | |
their Looks, their Eyes being livelier, their Countenances pleasanter, and | |
their Behaviour gayer or wantoner, than in any other Discourse, especially if | |
it be upon particular Persons, such as they fancy, or think they fancy them. | |
But as for Mrs. L. A. who discourses so much of a Husband, I do verily believe, | |
she will make a very good Wife, not that she says so, but that she hath been | |
bred strictly and retiredly, and is of a sober, and stayed Nature, not apt to | |
run into Extravagancies, nor to desire variety of Company, but is Huswifly and | |
Thrifty, and of an humble and obedient Behaviour, and not only Attentive to | |
good Advices, but Tractable and practive to them; all which makes her deserve a | |
good Husband, and I wish her one with all my heart; but she must take her | |
fortune, whether none or any, bad or good; but many a good Bachelor makes an | |
ill Husband, and many a wild deboyst Bachelor makes a good Husband; and as | |
for VVidowers, many men that were good Husbands to their first VVives, are ill | |
Husbands to their second, or third, or fourth, or to some good, and to some | |
bad; and some that have been ill and unkind Husbands to their first Wives, are | |
very good, fond Husbands to their second: the like for Maids, Wives and Widows; | |
so as none can make a wise choice in hap-hazard; for hap-hazard, as chance, | |
bars out VVisdom's prudence, it blindfolds Wisdom, having no insight into | |
Chance; so as a Fool blinded with Ignorance, may choose in the Lottery of | |
Husbands and VVives, as well as the Wisest, being blinded with the inconstancy | |
of Mankind. But leaving Mrs. L. A. to the Lottery, and her Matrimonial | |
Contemplations and Discourses, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XIV. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am of your opinion, that Philosophers Poets certainly should be the wisest | |
men, for they having so deep an insight, as to pierce even into the Secrets of | |
Nature, it should be easy for them to have an insight into the Designs, | |
Counsels, and Actions of Men, to foresee the Effects of Things; for they that | |
can Judge of Hidden and Invisible Causes, and find out their Effects, may | |
easily Judge of Visible Actions or Businesses amongst Mankind; and there is no | |
man that can be Wise, that hath not a deep piercing insight, and a clear | |
fore-sight to conceive and fore-see, what is, and what may probably be; for | |
'tis not History that makes men Wise, nor Law, nor Logic, nor to be Learned in | |
all the Sciences, but to have a Natural Ingenuity, as to conceive Rationally, | |
to judge Solidly, to understand Perfectly, to perceive Readily, to distinguish | |
Clearly, to compare Rightly, to search Narrowly, to examine Strictly, to | |
observe Generally, to consider Seriously, of all that hath been, is, or is not, | |
or what may be, or cannot be; In all which, Natural Philosophers and Poets are | |
the most Ingenious men; But of this sort of men the world hath not many, indeed | |
so sew, as the rest of mankind doth not understand them, for they think them | |
rather Fools than Wise men; for though Wise men know Fools, yet Fools know not | |
Wise men, nay Fools do not know Fools, but Wise men know Wise men; for how | |
should a Fool know a Fool, when he knows not Himself? But if any fault be in | |
Natural Poets and Philosophers, 'tis that they are so delighted with | |
Transcendency, as they will not Descend to consider, or regard the Actions and | |
Designs of Men, no, not the outward and ordinary works of Nature; they are of | |
Nature's privy Counsel, wherefore they scorn to be in Temporal or Human | |
Counsels of Men; they are Natural States-men, and will not be Temporal | |
States-men, neither they will attend Temporal Princes, being Nature's Chief | |
Courtiers; and when they chance to observe the Actions and Courses of other | |
men, they view them with a despising smile, to see their gross Errors, | |
ridiculous Follies, painful Pleasures, foolish Vices and unprofitable Labours: | |
also Natural Philosophers and Poets are not only the Wisest, but the Happiest | |
men; not only in pleasing themselves with their vast Knowledge, supreme Wits, | |
subtle Conceptions, delightful Imaginations, and curious Fancies, having all | |
the Delights of the Mind, and Pleasures of Thoughts, but in that they can | |
Conquer their Unruly Passions, Unsatiable Appetites, and order their Minds | |
according to their Fortunes; they are Happy in any Condition, having their | |
Happiness always with them, and in them, not without them, when other men's | |
Happiness lies always without, and their Unhappiness within them, their Minds | |
are always like troubled Waters, and every cross Accident is apt to make a | |
Storm, when Poets and Philosophers Minds are like the fixed Stars, having only | |
a twinkling motion; or rather like the Sun, which keeps a constant Course, and | |
never alters, but yet moves swiftly about the world, and views every corner, | |
and peirces into the very bowels of the Earth, and their Sun-like Mind is the | |
Light of their Thoughts; like as the rest of the Planets receive light from the | |
Sun, so the Thoughts from the Mind; and as the Sun hath Heat and Light, so hath | |
the Mind Reason and Knowledge; and as the Sun inlivens several Creatures, so | |
their Mind conceives several Causes and Effects, and creates several Fancies; | |
and as the Sun shows the World, and the World of Creatures, so the Mind finds | |
and shows the Truth of Things. But leaving them to true Knowledge, Wisdom, Wit | |
and Happiness, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
XV. | |
MADAM, | |
YEsterday was the Lord N. W. to visit me, where amongst other Discourses we | |
talked of the Lady T. M. not sooner was her name mentioned, but he seemed to be | |
rapt up into the third Heaven, and from thence to descend to declare her | |
Praises; and to repeat his Expressions, they were so extraordinary, as they | |
will not easily go out of my Memory, so as you shall have them word for word. | |
First, he said, She was a Lady fit to be the Empress of the whole world, for | |
though Fortune had not given her a Temporal Imperial Crown, Dignity and Title, | |
as neither by Inheritance, Victory, nor Choice, nor had not advanced her to a | |
Temporal Imperial Power, nor placed her on a Temporal Imperial Throne, nor held | |
she a Temporal Imperial Sceptre, yet she was Crowned at her Birth the Empress | |
of her Sex; for though Fortune had not Crowned her Body, yet Nature had Crowned | |
her Soul with a Celestial Crown, made of Poetical Flame, instead of Earthly | |
Gold that Crown's the Body; and instead of Diamonds, Pearls, and other precious | |
Stones set in Golden Crowns, her Celestial Crown was set with Understanding, | |
Judgement and Wit, also with clear Distinguishings, oriental Similizings, and | |
sparkling Fancies, a Crown more glorious than Ariadne's Crown of Stars; and | |
though she was not advanced on a Temporal Imperial Throne, yet she was set | |
higher, as on a Throne of Applause; and though she possessed not a Temporal | |
Imperial Power, nor held a Temporal Imperial Sceptre, yet she had a powerful | |
Persuasion and the tongue of Eloquence; and though she was not adorned with | |
Imperial Robes, yet she was adorned with Natural Beauty; and though she had not | |
a Temporal and Imperial Guard, yet she was guarded with Virtue; and though she | |
was not attended, waited and served with and by Temporal and Imperial | |
Courtiers, yet she was attended, waited on, and served by and with the sweet | |
Graces, and her Maids of Honour were the Muses, and Fame's house was her | |
Magnificent Palace. Thus was she Royally Born, and Divinely Anointed or Endued, | |
and Celestially Crowned, and may Reign in the memory of every Age and Nation to | |
the world's end; and not only Reign, but Reign Happily, Gloriously, and | |
Famously. But when he had said what I have related, I could not choose but | |
smile, to hear such Poetical commendations of a Woman, doubting none of our Sex | |
was worthy of such high, and far-fetch'd Praises; he asked me why I smiled? I | |
told him, I smiled to observe how the Passion of Love had bribed his Tongue; he | |
said, he was not guilty of partial Bribes, but Justice had commanded his Tongue | |
to speak the Truth: I told him, I was glad to find, at least to hear, that | |
there was Justice in Men, and Merit in Women, as the one to Praise, the other | |
to be Praise-worthy; but I prayed him to give me leave, or to pardon me, if I | |
told him, that his Speech showed, or expressed him not a Temporal and Imperial | |
Courtier, as to praise one Lady to another, and to give so many Praises to an | |
absent Lady, as to leave no Praises for the present Lady: He prayed me to | |
pardon him that Error, and that hereafter he would always Praise that Lady he | |
was present with. But, Madam, those Praises given the Lady T. M. had I been apt | |
to Envy, it had turned me all into Vinegar, or dissolved me into Vitriol; but | |
being unspotted, and free from that speckled Vice, I am heightened with joy to | |
hear any of our Sex so Celestial, as to deserve a Celestial Praise: And leaving | |
you to the same Joy, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XVI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Hope I have given the Lady D. A. no cause to believe I am not her Friend; | |
for though she hath been of Ps. and I of Ks. side, yet I know no reason why | |
that should make a difference betwixt us, as to make us Enemies, no more than | |
cases of Conscience in Religion, for one may be my very good Friend, and yet | |
not of my opinion, every one's Conscience in Religion is betwixt God and | |
themselves, and it belongs to none other. 'Tis true, I should be glad my Friend | |
were of my opinion, or if I thought my Friend's opinion were better than mine, | |
I would be of the same; but it should be no breach of Friendship, if our | |
opinions were different, since God is only to be the Judge: And as for the | |
matter of Governments, we Women understand them not, yet if we did, we are | |
excluded from intermedling therewith, and almost from being subject thereto; we | |
are not tied, nor bound to State or Crown; we are free, not Sworn to | |
Allegiance, nor do we take the Oath of Supremacy; we are not made Citizens of | |
the Commonwealth, we hold no Offices, nor bear we any Authority therein; we are | |
accounted neither Useful in Peace, nor Serviceable in War; and if we be not | |
Citizens in the Commonwealth, I know no reason we should be Subjects to the | |
Commonwealth: And the truth is, we are no Subjects, unless it be to our | |
Husbands, and not always to them, for sometimes we usurp their Authority, or | |
else by flattery we get their good wills to govern; but if Nature had not | |
befriended us with Beauty, and other good Graces, to help us to insinuate our | |
selves into men's Affections, we should have been more enslaved than any other | |
of Natur's Creatures she hath made; but Nature be thanked, she hath been so | |
bountiful to us, as we oftener enslave men, than men enslave us; they seem to | |
govern the world, but we really govern the world, in that we govern men: for | |
what man is he, that is not governed by a woman more or less? None, unless some | |
dull Stoic, or an old miserable Usurer, or a cold, old, withered Bachelor, or | |
a half-starved Hermit, and such like persons, which are but here and there one; | |
And not only Wives and Mistresses have prevalent power with Men, but Mothers, | |
Daughters, Sisters, Aunts, Cousins, nay, Maid-Servants have many times a | |
persuasive power with their Masters, and a Land-lady with her Lodger, or a | |
she-Hostess with her he-Guest; yet men will not believe this, and 'tis the | |
better for us, for by that we govern as it were by an insensible power, so as | |
men perceive not how they are Led, Guided, and Ruled by the Feminine Sex. But | |
howsoever, Madam, the disturbance in this Country hath made no breach of | |
Friendship betwixt us, for though there hath been a Civil War in the Kingdom, | |
and a general War amongst the Men, yet there hath been none amongst the Women, | |
they have not fought pitched battles; and if they had, there hath been no | |
particular quarrel betwixt her and me, for her Ladyship is the same in my | |
affection, as if the Kingdom had been in a calm Peace; in which Friendship I | |
shall always remain hers, as also, | |
Your Ladyships most Humble and Devoted S. | |
XVII. | |
MADAM, | |
THe pure Lady, or Lady Puritan, is so godly, as to follow all those Ministers | |
she thinks are called and chosen by the Holy Spirit, to preach the Word of God, | |
whereas those Ministers preach more their own words, than God's, for they | |
interpret the Scripture to their own Sense, or rather to their Factious Humours | |
and Designs, and after their Sermons, their female Flocks gossip Scripture, | |
visiting each other to confer Notes, and make repetitions of the Sermons, as | |
also to explain and expound them; for first the Minister expounds the | |
Scripture, and then the Women-hearers expound the Sermon; so that there are | |
expoundings upon expoundings, and preaching upon preaching, insomuch as they | |
make such a medley or hash of the Scripture, as certainly the right and Truth is | |
so hidden and obscured, that none can find it; and surely the Holy Spirit, whom | |
they talk so much of, knows not what they mean or preach, being so much and | |
such Non-sense in their Sermons, as God himself cannot turn to Sense; but | |
howsoever, it works on some to a good effect, and causes as much Devotion | |
amongst many, as if they preached Learnedly, Eloquently, and interpreted | |
Rightly, and to the true sense meaning; for many sorrowful penitent tears are | |
shed, but whether they be bottled up in Heaven, I know not: certainly Mary | |
Magdalen could not Weep faster for the time, or fetch deeper Sighs, or stronger | |
Groans for her Sins, than they do, which shows that they have been grievous | |
Sinners; but whether their Sins were of the same kind as hers were, I cannot | |
tell, and I think they would not confess, for Confession they account Popish. | |
But truly, and verily, the Lady Puritan who hath been to visit me this | |
afternoon, hath so tired me with her preaching Discourse, as I think I shall | |
not recover my weary Spirits and deafened Ears, this two days, unless a quiet | |
sleep cure me; nay, she hath so filled my head with words, as I doubt it will | |
hinder my silent Repose; howsoever I'll try: and so taking my leave as going to | |
bed, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
XVIII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Observe there is an emulation between the Lord V. A. and the Lord G. V. for | |
Worth and Merit, striving which shall excel each other in Virtue, Noble | |
Qualities, Practicable Arts, Learned Sciences, Witty Poetry, and the like; as | |
for Justice, Temperance, Valour, Fortitude, Generosity, Gratitude, Fidelity and | |
Loyalty, as also, for Courtesy, Civility, and Obligements; for wise Forecasts, | |
prudent Managements, industrious Ingenuities, noble Commands, and honest and | |
conformable Obedience; likewise for graceful Behaviours, and handsome | |
Demeanours; also, for Fencing, Riding, Vaulting, Wrestling, and the like; for | |
proper and fit Sciences for Noble Persons to be learned and known, as | |
Fortification, Navigation, Astronomy, Cosmography, Architecture, Music, and | |
History; and for Wit, as Scenes, Songs, Poems, and the like: and this Emulation | |
makes them Admire, Love, Respect, and Praise each other, and watch all | |
opportunities to Oblige each other, thinking and esteeming it a Happiness so to | |
do; for the effects of Emulation are quite different from the effects of Envy, | |
for Envy is full of Dispraise and Detraction, either covertly or openly, and | |
watches all opportunities to do Mischief, and to obscure the Beauty of Virtue, | |
and the grace and becoming demeanours of Virtuosoes; whereas Emulation rejoices | |
when Virtue is visibly Seen, and justly Praised, and Virtuosoes highly | |
Commended: indeed, Emulation dwells with the Worthiest Persons, Envy with the | |
Basest. But, Madam, 'tis a wonder in an age so basely Bad, there should be two | |
persons so nobly Good; when most men spend their time so idly Vain, that they | |
should spend their time so ingeniously Prudent; when Vice is advanced, and | |
Virtue disgraced, that they should should Shun that advancement, and embrace | |
Virtue; when Treason is Rewarded and Loyalty Punished, that they should loyally | |
Suffer, and not basely Betray; when Flattery is heard, and Truth rejected, that | |
they should choose to be Silent, or Speak what they think. They covet not | |
Office, Authority and Wealth, nor do they ambitiously strive to Command, but | |
when they are employed, they do not grow proud with their Authority and Place, | |
nor richer by taking Bribes; nor do they partially Favour their Friends, nor | |
are they Unjust to their Foes; they use no Malice nor Favour, but are Upright | |
and Just; and in their Commands in War, or Governments in Peace, although they | |
are carefully Strict, they are not Imperious nor Cruel; but, in short, they | |
endeavour to serve their King Loyally, their Country Faithfully, and every | |
particular Man Generously, if it lie in their power. But leaving these two | |
Nobles to their Glorious Emulatings, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. S. | |
XIX. | |
MADAM, | |
AS the Emulation between the Lord V. A. and the Lord G. V. was Commendable, | |
and worthy of great Praise, so the Envy between the Lord P. R. and the Lord M. | |
A. is Discommendable, and worthy to be Condemned; for they strive not to | |
imitate equally, or surpass each other for Worth and Merit, for Courtesy and | |
Civility, for Valour and Generosity, for Learning and Poetry; but strive to | |
imitate equally, or surpass each other in Expenses and Bravery, for Show and | |
Vain glory, for Offices and Honour, for Vice and Vanity, as which shall make | |
more luxurious Feasts, delicious Banquets, masking Scenes, dancing Balls, gay | |
Shows, as brave Clothes, gilded Coaches, laced Liveries, many Pages, Lackeys, | |
hackny Horses, and handsome Mistresses; also they strive for Court Preferments, | |
each would have All Offices and Honours, although, perchance, neither could | |
well discharge any One Place or Office Wisely, if Honestly, nor be worthy the | |
Least Title they are ambitious of; also they strive to be out-Flattered, which | |
Flatterers they maintain at great charge, and to compass their each | |
out-stripping, or out-reaching Designs, they will crouch Basely, flatter | |
Grossly, bribe Liberally, wait Diligently, watch Carefully, and attend | |
Patiently; But I foresee their Fate, which is, they will die despised Beggars, | |
for if they get their Designs, they will be Losers, for the Bribes they give | |
for them, and their Presents and Entertainments, are more than their Designs | |
are worth, and more than they shall gain by them, if gotten; but if their | |
Designs fail them, they will be double losers, besides the expense of their gay | |
Vanities; so what with out-braving, out-bribing, and out-spending each other, | |
they will both be soon out of their Estates; for if they spend upon their | |
Stocks, or Credits, or both, they will have nothing left to spend, and when | |
they are both Poor, Envy may chance to make them Friends, as it doth now, being | |
Rich, Enemies; for though Envy is a following Enemy to Wealth and Prosperity, | |
yet 'tis a Friend to Poverty, and for the most dwells with Poverty; to which | |
I'll leave these two Envious Persons, and rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
XX. | |
MADAM, | |
I Remember you told me, that formerly you thought Time troublesome, and every | |
Place wearisome; as in the Spring, you would wish for Summer, when Summer came, | |
you would wish for Autumn, and in the Autumn you would wish for Winter, a cold | |
wish; nay every Day, every Hour, every Minute, you thought Tedious and Long. | |
Indeed Time runs so fast upon Youth, as it doth oppress Youth, which makes | |
Youth desire to cast it by; and though the Motion of Time is swift, yet the | |
Desire of Youth is swifter, and the Motions of Thoughts are as far beyond the | |
Motions of Time, as the Motion of Time is beyond the Motion of Nature's | |
Architecture; so as Youth through it's Sharp, Greedy, Hungry Appetite, devours | |
Time, like as a Cormorant doth Fish; for as he never stays to chew, but | |
swallows down whole Fishes, so Youth swallows, as it were, whole Days, Weeks, | |
Months, Years, until they surfeit with Practice, or are fully satisfied with | |
Experience: The same reason makes Youth weary of every Place or Company, for | |
they are not satisfied, because they have not had enough variety of Knowledge, | |
they know not the right use of Time, the unprofitable use of Vanity, the | |
restless motions of Variety, nor know they the Deceits, Abuses, and Treacheries | |
of their own Kind, as Mankind, neither do they know their own Natures and | |
Dispositions, they know not what to Choose, nor what to Leave, what to Seek, | |
nor what to Shun; neither have they felt the heavy burdens of Cares, nor | |
oppressions of Sorrows for Losses and Crosses; they have not been pinched with | |
Necessity, nor pained with long Sicknesses, nor stung with Remorse; they have | |
not been terrified with bloody Wars, nor forsaken of Natural Friends, nor | |
betrayed by feigned Friendships; they have not been robbed of all their | |
Maintenance, nor been banished their Country. Thus being tenderly Young, they | |
are Oppressed with the quick repetitions of Time, and their Senses being Sharp, | |
and their Appetites Hungry, they greedily Devour Time, though in the end Time | |
devours them, the Meat, the Eater; also the desire of Knowledge makes every | |
Place and Company wearisome, for Youth takes delight in that which is New, they | |
being New themselves, for Youth is like Garments new made, and being new | |
themselves, they Sympathetically delight and love new things, as new Clothes, | |
new Houses, new Vanities, new Sports, new Countries, new Companies, new Lovers, | |
new Friends, and any thing that is new to them, insomuch as they would rather | |
have a new Enemy, than an old Friend; and thus will Youth do, until Time turns | |
its back, whereupon are written all the Follies of Youth, which Follies they | |
could not see to read whilst Time was before them, for while Times face is | |
towards them, they only see their childish desires, which are all written upon | |
Times breast. But, Madam, I believe, that Time, as troublesome as it hath seemed | |
to you, you would be glad now of its stay; but Time doth as all Courting | |
Amorosoes do, they run to embrace Youth, though they tire Youth with their | |
troublesome kindness, but when the gloss of Youth is past, they leave off their | |
Amours, nay, they hate those they made love to, and strive to get away from | |
them as fast as they can, and as far off: Just so doth Time, it makes love to | |
all, and then forsakes all it hath made love to. But, Madam, it hath but newly | |
turned its head from you, but it will turn its whole body; at first it will | |
seem to pace slowly from you, but it will mend its pace, and at last run from | |
you, yet let it not run without your repining, or grieving for its neglects, | |
for no persuasion will make it stay. But, Madam, you will be happier in Times | |
neglects, than in its embraces, and will make more advantage from Times | |
heels than from its head, for Times head is filled with Vanity, and on Times | |
heels is Experience; yet although Time runs from you, Wisdom will stay with | |
you, for Wisdom is the Son of Time, and became Wise by his Fathers Follies, | |
which are written upon his Fathers back; for Wisdom waits always behind his | |
Father, and neither Wisdom the Son, nor Time the Father, do meet face to face; | |
and you will find more happiness in Wisdom's Company than in Times Courtships, | |
for Wisdom's Conversation is Comfortable and Pleasing, it speaks with the | |
Tongue of an Orator, the Wit of a Poet, and the Advice of a Friend; then who | |
would be troubled with the fantastical Humours, apish Actions, flattering | |
Speeches, and subtle Deceits of Time? But lest this Letter should be as tedious | |
to you as formerly Time was, I'll stop here, and rest, | |
Madam, | |
Your Ladyships faithful Fr. and S. | |
XXI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am sorry that Mrs. P. L. hath had so great a loss at cards, as the grief of | |
the loss caused her to weep; But Gamesters are like Merchant-adventurers, and | |
for the most part have the same fate, as to die Bankrupts, for more are | |
impoverished by their losses, than enriched by their gettings; but gaming was | |
never so much practised by our Feminine Sex, as it is in this age, and by their | |
losses, (I know not for their skill) they seem Masculine gamesters, and I | |
believe they quarrel as much in their play, only they fight not Duels, unless | |
with their Tongues. But I observe that cards is one of the chief pastimes of | |
our Sex, and their greatest delight, for few or none of our Sex loves or | |
delights in Poetry, unless a Copy of Verses made in their praise, wherein for | |
the most part is more Flattery than Wit; neither doth our Sex delight or | |
understand Philosophy, for as for Natural Philosophy they study no more of | |
Nature's works than their Faces, and their greatest ingenuity is, to make them | |
Fairer than Nature did; and for Moral Philosophy, they think that too tedious | |
to learn, and too rigid to practise; yet I make no question but they have heard | |
of Temperance, though few are acquainted with it, and Prudence they scorn to | |
accompany, they despise her as a mean, plain Huswife, and Fortitude can get no | |
entrance, for strong Fears keep her out; as for Justice, I think our Sex doth | |
only resemble the Emblem or Moral, as Justice is blinded with a band to keep | |
out Partiality, so our Sex is blinded with Ignorance, which keeps out | |
Knowledge; and though our Sex holds no Sword in their hands to cut off | |
Offences, yet they hold as sharp a Weapon in their mouths, to cut off good | |
Fame, and will make more Offences, than the Sword of Justice is able to cut | |
off; and as for the Balance of Justice, which is Judgement, they never use it, | |
for they seldom Weigh any thing; and for Faith, Hope, and Charity, they seem to | |
have no more Faith than to believe their own Praises, and their only Hope is | |
for pre-eminence of Beauty or Title, for Place or Wealth, and for Vanities; and | |
as for Charity, they spend so much upon themselves, as they have nothing left | |
for the Poor; and they are so far from governing their Passions and Appetites, | |
as their Passions and Appetites govern and rule the whole course of their | |
Lives; neither doth our Sex take much delight in true History, for naturally | |
our Sex is too lazy to look back into past Times, neither have they the | |
piercing foresight to see into Future times, they only regard the Present; | |
neither doth our Sex take much pleasure in harmonious Music, only in Violins | |
to tread a measure; the truth is, the chief study of our Sex is Romances, | |
wherein reading, they fall in love with the feigned Heroes and Carpet-Knights, | |
with whom their Thoughts secretly commit Adultery, and in their Conversation | |
and manner, or forms or phrases of Speech, they imitate the Romancy-Ladies: And | |
our Sexes chief Pastime is Gaming of all kinds or sorts, but most Cards, | |
whereby they lose more money than get reputation; indeed Carding is their Work, | |
for they make it rather a Labour with long and tiresome Sitting, careful | |
Playing, and painful Vexing and Fretting, than a Pleasure and Recreation; and | |
our Sexes chief Exercise is Dancing, not alone, amongst themselves, for that | |
they hate, but in masculine Company, and this they love so well, as to dance | |
themselves into a fiery heat, if not a Fever; and their only delight is in | |
Love and Courtships, and their only pleasure Luxury, insomuch as they are for | |
the most part Eating, whether Sitting, Walking, or Dancing. But leaving our Sex | |
to their Banquets, Courtships, Dancing and Gaming, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. S. | |
XXII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu said in your last Letter, that Sir G. A. doth so brag of his own gallant | |
Actions, as he saves his neighbour the labour to report them; I am sorry to | |
hear gallant men should brag of their own Actions, for their bragging takes off | |
the gloss of their Courage; for as Time takes off Youth or fresh Colour off | |
Beauty, so Self-praise takes off the Esteem and Honour of Merit: But as some | |
will boast of their own Worth, so others will boast of their own Baseness, as | |
what subtle Cheats they have practised, or whom they have Betrayed, or how | |
ingenious they were in telling Lies, or how many Robberies they have committed; | |
as also of their Disobedience, Disloyalty, and the like; others will boast of | |
their Debaucheries, as how often they have had the French Disease, how many | |
Women they have Debauched, how much they can Drink before they are Drunk, and | |
how long they can sit a Drinking, what Monies they have Won or Lost at Play, | |
how Vain and Expensive they are, or have been, and many the like, which I | |
wonder at, that men should Glory and take a Pride in that which is Base or | |
Foolish: But this argues some men to have mean Souls and foolish Brains, full | |
of idle Discourses, wanting Judgement and Wit; also unprofitable Lives, and | |
when they Die there is a good riddance, for they were but as Rubbish in the | |
World, which Death, like as an honest painful Labourer, takes up like as | |
Dunghills, and throws them into the Grave, and buries them in Oblivion, not | |
being worthy of a monument of Remembrance, in which Grave I leave those that | |
are Dead, and those that Live I wish may be Reformed to more Purity; so I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXIII. | |
MADAM, | |
IT is not strange that the Lady L. T. and the Lady A. M. should fall out, so, | |
as to be Enemies, although they were such fond Friends, as not to be pleased in | |
each others absence, but Friendship that is made out of fond Humours, seldom | |
lasts long, especially when they live and board together; for first, Fondness | |
wears away with Use and Acquaintance, next, being borded together, Faults or | |
Neglects are committed, and Exceptions taken; Self-love of the one person will | |
be served first, and Self-love of the other person will not suffer it; besides, | |
many cross Humours, and sometimes little Envies, will appear betwixt equal | |
Persons that live together, especially Women, and the sooner, if either or both | |
have Husbands or Lovers; for Women will be sooner jealous of their Husbands or | |
Lovers for their She-friends, than Men will be of their Wives or Mistresses for | |
their He-friends: but Household Friends for the most part are Home-lovers, that | |
is, the He-friend makes love to the Wife, or the She-friend is Courted by the | |
Husband; and if they be both married, 'tis likely they Cuckold each other; and | |
thus, for Example, these Ladies are become Enemies through Jealousy, for | |
though the Lady L. T. professed to love her Friend the Lady A. M. dearly well, | |
yet it seems, she will not have her to Share with her of her Husbands Love or | |
Courtship, although Sir T. O. the Lady L. Ts. Husband, could be no less than a | |
Servant to his Wives dear Friend; Besides, it is a temptation to an Husband, to | |
see two She-friends Embrace, and Kiss, and Sport, and Play, which makes the | |
Husband to desire to do the like, not with his Wife, but his VVives Friend, | |
for temptation is from that which men are not accustomed to, or to do as they | |
see others do; but 'tis likely, when the jealous Humour of the Lady L. T. is | |
over, they will be Friends again, till the jealous Humour return again. Thus | |
they may be Friends and Enemies all their Life time, and perchance take a | |
pleasure in being so, for Women for the most part take delight to make | |
Friendships, and then to fall out, and be Friends again, and so to and fro, | |
which is as much Pastime and Recreation to them, as going abroad and staying at | |
home. But I wish all Friends were as constant Friends as your Ladyship and I, | |
who are inseparably united, for as long as I live I shall be, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
XXIV. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter I perceive the Gallants of the Time, I mean Gallants for | |
Youth and Bravery, for Vice and Vanity, for Expense and Prodigality, for | |
foolish Quarrels, and rash Duels, these Gallants, it seems, condemn Age as | |
unfit for State-affairs, as neither to Govern, Command, Direct, nor Advise; but | |
certainly those States or Kingdoms that have young Governors and Counsellers, | |
shall have more Combustions and Disorders committed by their Ignorance and | |
Follies, than the most experienced Age can Rectify: indeed such Kingdoms and | |
States are rather governed by Chance than Wisdom. 'Tis true, Fools have Good | |
Fortune sometimes, but not so often as Bad, which shows they neither have a | |
Politic Vlysses, nor a Counselling Nestor, for though Young men may Fight as | |
Achilles, yet they can neither Counsel as Nestor, nor Speak as Ulysses; not but | |
that some Old men may be Fools, but it is against Nature for Young men to be | |
Wise, wherefore they are fitter to Obey than to Command, and to be Advised, | |
than to give Counsel, for it is a wonder whenas young Counsellers keep Peace, | |
or young Generals be Conquerours; and it makes them more Famous, because not | |
Usual, especially when Fortune favours them, as she doth many times their Rash | |
Adventures, or haughty and Ambitious Enterprises; for good Fortune makes Youth | |
appear more Glorious than Age; but Fortune many times favours Youth, as she | |
favours Fools, for a time, and in the end leaves them to their own Ruin; but | |
where Fortune hath little or nothing to do, as in wise Counsels, there their | |
Ignorance and Follies, Passions and Partialities, Factions and Emulations | |
appear, especially in the success of their Counsels; wherefore Young men may | |
better and more safely be trusted with an Army than a City, for 'tis more safe | |
to leave them to Fortune, than to trust them with Prudence; for Young men can | |
tell better how to make Wars, than to keep Peace, being easier to Lead an Army, | |
than to Rule a Kingdom, to Fight a Battle, than to Order a Commonwealth, to | |
Distribute Spoils, than to Do Justice, for Fortune hath more power in Victory | |
than Right. 'Tis true, sometimes there's such a Concurrence and Conjunction in | |
Affairs of State, as also in Armies, as the Wisest or Valiantest men cannot | |
make better, nor Fools nor Cowards worse, which is the cause that many times | |
Wise or Valiant men, or both, may be thought Fools and Cowards, and Fools and | |
Cowards Wise or Valiant men; and many times Fools are too hard for Wise men, by | |
reason there be numbers of Fools for few Wise men, nay, numbers of Fools for | |
One Wise man, which Wise man may be buried in the Rubbish of Fools; but if a | |
Wise man be not overpowered, he treads down their Follies and Triumphs in Peace | |
and Prosperity: But Aged men most commonly are assisted and attended by Mercury | |
and Pallas, and Young men by Mars and Venus. The truth is, 'tis against Sense | |
and Reason, that Young men can be so Wise, or proper for Affairs of a | |
Commonwealth, either to Command, Govern, or Counsel, as Aged men, who have had | |
long Experience, and great Observations, by Seeing, Hearing, and Knowing much, | |
so as there is nothing New, or Unacquainted to them, neither in Varieties, | |
Changes, nor Chances; for Nature, Fortune, and Time, is their long | |
Acquaintance, by which they know the Appetites, Passions, Humours, | |
Dispositions, Manners, and Actions of Men, with their Defects, Errors and | |
Imperfections; also the Revolutions of Time, the Casualties of Chance, the | |
Change of Fortune, and the Natural Course, Causes, and Effects of several | |
Things in the World, all which makes Aged men Wise, and want of such | |
Experience and Observation, makes Young men Fools in comparison of Aged men; | |
for Young men can have but a Relative, and not an Experienced Knowledge, nor | |
can they have very much by Relation or Reading, having not time enough for | |
Instruction Learning; whereas Aged men have Read, Heard, Seen, Conversed and | |
Acted in and of several Ages, Societies, Nations, Men, and Business; also in | |
several Places of several Subjects, and several Matters, to several Men, at | |
several Times: But Young men are so Conceited, and Opinionative of themselves, | |
as they think, they neither want Wit, Judgement, Understanding, nor Knowledge, | |
and that Ancient men rather Dote than Know; but though Young men cannot be Wise | |
in Nature, unless by Inspiration, yet those are nearest to Wisdom that have | |
been Bred up, Instructed, and Educated by Wise Age, and so much Better and more | |
Knowing they are than others which have been Bred, Instructed, and Educated by | |
Young Pedants or Governors, as the first shall be as Old men, although but | |
Young, and the others shall be as Boys when they are Young Men, and Young Men | |
when they are Old, or rather Boys all their life time, although they should | |
live long; so that one may say, Happy is Youth that lives with Age: But leaving | |
as well Aged as Young men, to Knowledge and Ignorance, Wisdom and Folly, | |
Prudence and Fortune, I rest, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXV. | |
MADAM, | |
THe Lady P. R. was to visit the Lady S. I. and other Ladies with her, whose | |
Conversation and Discourse was according to their Female Capacities and | |
Understandings, and when they were all gone, the Lady S. Is. Husband asked his | |
Wife, why she did not Talk as the rest of the Ladies did, especially the Lady | |
P. R. so Loud and Impertinently? She answered, she had neither the Humour, | |
Breath, Voice, nor Wit, to Speak so Long, so Loud, and so Much of nothing: He | |
said, her Answer liked him well, for he would not have his Wife so Bold, so | |
Rude, and so Talking a Fool. Thus, Madam, we may perceive how Discourse in | |
Conversation is Judged of, and for the most part Condemned by the Hearers, when | |
perchance the Ladies imagine that they are Applauded and Commended for their | |
Wit and Confident Behaviour; for Self-love thinks all is well Said or Done, | |
that it self Speaks or Acts, so that Self-love doth always Approve it self, | |
and Dispraise others. But leaving Self-love to Self-admiration, and that | |
Admiration to others Condemnation, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. S. | |
XXVI. | |
MADAM, | |
WE have no News here, unless to hear that the Lady C. R. did beat her | |
Husband, and because she would have Witness enough, she beat him in a Public | |
Assembly, nay, being a woman of none of the least Sizes, but one of the | |
largest, and having Anger added to her Strength, she did beat him Soundly, and | |
it is said, that he did not resist her, but endured Patiently; whether he did | |
it out of fear to show his own VVeakness, being not able to Encounter her, or | |
out of a Noble Nature, not to Strike a Woman, I know not; yet I believe the | |
best: and surely, if he doth not, or cannot tame her Spirits, or bind her | |
Hands, or for Love will not leave her, if she beat him Often, he will have but | |
a Sore life. Indeed I was sorry when I heard of it, not only for the sake of | |
our Sex, but because she and he are persons of Dignity, it belonging rather to | |
mean-born and bred Women to do such unnatural Actions; for certainly, for a | |
Wife to strike her Husband, is as much, if not more, as for a Child to strike | |
his Father; besides, it is a breach of Matrimonial Government, not to Obey all | |
their Husbands Commands; but those Women that Strike or Cuckold their Husbands, | |
are Matrimonial Traitors, for which they ought to be highly punished; as for | |
Blows, they ought to be banished from their Husbands Bed, House, Family, and | |
for Adultery, they ought to suffer Death, and their Executioner ought to be | |
their Husband. 'Tis true, Passion will cause great Indiscretion, Women are | |
subject to Violent Passions, which makes or causes them so often to err in | |
Words and Actions, which, when their Passion is over, they are sorry for; but | |
unruly Passions are only a cause of uncivil Words and rude Actions, whereas | |
Adultery is caused by unruly Appetites; wherefore Women should be Instructed | |
and Taught more Industriously, Carefully, and Prudently, to Temper their | |
Passions, and Govern their Appetites, than Men, because there comes more | |
Dishonour from their unruly Passions and Appetites, than from Men's; but for the | |
most part Women are not Educated as they should be, I mean those of Quality, | |
for their Education is only to Dance, Sing, and Fiddle, to write Complemental | |
Letters, to read Romances, to speak some Language that is not their Native, | |
which Education, is an Education of the Body, and not of the Mind, and shows | |
that their Parents take more care of their Feet than their Head, more of their | |
Words than their Reason, more of their Music than their Virtue, more of their | |
Beauty than their Honesty, which methinks is strange, as that their Friends and | |
Parents should take more Care, and be at greater Charge to Adorn their Bodies, | |
than to Endue their Minds, to teach their Bodies Arts, and not to Instruct | |
their Minds with Understanding; for this Education is more for outward Show, | |
than inward Worth, it makes the Body a Courtier, and the Mind a Clown, and | |
oftentimes it makes their Body a Baud, and their Mind a Courtesan, for though | |
the Body procures Lovers, yet it is the Mind that is the Adulteress, for if the | |
Mind were Honest and Pure, they would never be guilty of that Crime; wherefore | |
those Women are best bred, whose Minds are civilest, as being well Taught and | |
Governed, for the Mind will be Wild and Barbarous, unless it be Enclosed with | |
Study, Instructed by Learning, and Governed by Knowledge and Understanding, for | |
then the Inhabitants of the Mind will live Peaceably, Happily, Honestly and | |
Honourably, by which they will Rule and Govern their associate Appetites with | |
Ease and Regularity, and their Words, as their Household Servants, will be | |
employed Profitably. But leaving the Lady C. R. and her Husband to Passion and | |
Patience, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXVII. | |
MADAM, | |
YEsterday I employed my time in reading History, and I find in my self an | |
Envy, or rather an Emulation towards Men, for their Courage, Prudence, Wit, | |
and Eloquence, as not to Fear Death, to Rule Commonwealths, and to Speak in a | |
Friend's behalf, or to Pacify a Friend's Grief, to Plead for his own Right, or | |
to Defend his own Cause by the Eloquence of Speech; yet this is not in all Men, | |
for some men have Courage and no Wit, and some have Wit and no Conduct, and | |
some have neither Wit, Courage, nor Conduct; but mistake me not, for I do not | |
Envy or Emulate a Stubborn Obstinacy, nor a Desperate Rashness, nor an | |
Inslaving Policy, nor Fine Words and Choice Phrases; but to Fight Valiantly, | |
to Suffer Patiently, to Govern Justly, and to Speak Rationally, Movingly, | |
Timely and Properly, as to the purpose, all which I fear Women are not Capable | |
of, and the Despair thereof makes me Envy or Emulate Men. But though I love | |
Justice Best, and trust to Valour Most, yet I Admire Eloquence, and would | |
choose Wit for my Pastime. Indeed Natural Orators that can speak on a Sudden | |
and Extempore upon any Subject, are Nature's Musicians, moving the Passions to | |
Harmony, making Concords out of Discords, Playing on the Soul with Delight. And | |
of all the Men I read of, I Emulate Iulius Caesar most, because he was a man | |
that had all these Excellencies, as Courage, Prudence, Wit and Eloquence, in | |
great Perfection, insomuch as when I read of Iulius Caesar, I cannot but wish | |
that Nature and Fate had made me such a one as he was; and sometimes I have | |
that Courage, as to think I should not be afraid of his Destiny, so I might | |
have as great a Fame. But these wishes discover my Aspiring Desires, and all | |
those Desires are but Vain that cannot be Attained to; yet although I cannot | |
attain to Iulius Caesar's Fame, it suffices me, to have attained to your | |
Favour, and to the Honour to subscribe my self, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXVIII. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you were pleased to Condemn me for Admiring Words, so | |
much, as to prefer Eloquence before all other Music; but pray, Madam, mistake | |
me not, for I do not Admire the Words, but the Sense, Reason, and Wit, that is | |
Expressed, and made Known by Words; neither do I Admire Formal Orators, that | |
speak Premeditated Orations, but Natural Orators, that can speak on a Sudden | |
upon any Subject, whose Words are as Sweet and Melting as Manna from Heaven, | |
and their Wit as Spreading and Refreshing as the Serene Air, whose | |
Understanding is as Clear as the Sun, giving Light of Truth to all their | |
Hearers, who in case of Persuasion, speak Sweetly, in case of Reproof, | |
Seasonably, and in all cases, Effectually. And, Madam, if you do Consider well, | |
you cannot choose but Admire, and Wonder at the Power of Eloquence, for there is | |
a strange hidden Mystery in Eloquence, it hath a Magical Power over mankind, | |
for it Charms the Senses, and Enchants the Mind, and is of such a Commanding | |
Power, as it Forces the Will to Command the Actions of the Body and Soul, to | |
Do, or to Suffer, beyond their Natural Abilities, and makes the Souls of men | |
the Tongue's Slaves; for such is the power of an Eloquent Speech, as it Binds | |
the Judgement, Blindfolds the Understanding, and Deludes the Reason; also it | |
Softens the Obdurate Hearts, and causes Dry Eyes to Weep, and Dries Wet Eyes | |
from Tears; also it Refines the Drossy Humours, Polishes the Rough Passions, | |
Bridles the Unruly Appetites, Reforms the Rude Manners, and Calms the Troubled | |
Minds; it can Civilize the Life by Virtue, and Inspire the Soul with Devotion. | |
On the other side, it can Enrage the Thoughts to Madness, and Cause the Soul to | |
Despair. The truth is, it can make Men like Gods or Devils, as having a Power | |
beyond Nature, Custom and Force, for many times the Tongue hath been too Strong | |
for the Sword, and often carried away the Victory; also it hath been too Subtle | |
for the Laws, as to Banish Right, and to Condemn Truth; and too hard for the | |
Natures of Men, making their Passions its Prisoners: and since Eloquence hath | |
such Power over Arms, and Laws, and Men, as to make Peace or War, to Compose or | |
Dissolve Commonwealths, to Dispose of Souls and Bodies of Mankind; wherefore | |
those men that are endued with such Eloquence, and overflowing Wit, are both to | |
be Feared and Loved, to be highly Advanced or utterly Banished; for those whose | |
Eloquent Wit out-runs their Honesty, are to be Punished, but those that employ | |
their Eloquent Wit, and Elegant Graces, to the service of the Commonwealth, are | |
to be Esteemed, Respected, and Relied upon, as Pillars of the Commonwealth. But | |
to conclude, Wit makes a Ladder of Words, to climb to Fame's high Tower, and | |
the Tongue carries men further than their Feet, and builds them a Statelier, | |
and more Lasting Palace than their Hands, and their Wit, more than their | |
Wealth, doth Adorn it. But now, leaving Words and Wit, I rely upon Love and | |
Friendship, and rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXIX. | |
MADAM, | |
I Heard by your last, that the Lady S. P. was to visit you, where, amongst her | |
other Discourses, she spoke of me, and was pleased to Censure and Condemn, as | |
to Censure the Cause, and Condemn the Manner of my Life, saying, that I did | |
either Retire out of a Fantastic Humour, or otherwise I was Constrained, in not | |
having the Liberty, that usually other VVives have, to go Abroad, and receive | |
what Visitors they please: But if she did but know the sweet Pleasures, and | |
harmless Delights I have by this Retirement, she would not have said what she | |
did; and to answer to what she said, This course of Life is by my own voluntary | |
Choice, for I have liberty to do any Thing, or to go any Where, or to keep any | |
Company that Discretion doth Allow, and Honour Approve of; and though I may err | |
in my Discretion, yet not in cases of Honour, for had I not only Liberty, but | |
were Persuaded or Enticed by all the World's Allurements, or were Threatened | |
with Death, to Do, or Act any thing against Honour, or to do any Thing or Act, | |
Honour did not Approve of, I would not Do it, nay, I would Die first: But in | |
that which is called Honour, are many Ingrediencies, as Justice, Chastity, | |
Truth, Trust, Gratitude, Constancy, and many the like. Next I answer, That it | |
is not out of a Fantastic Humour, that I live so much Retired, which is to | |
keep my House more than go Abroad, but out of Self-love, and not out of | |
Self-opinion, and it is Just and Natural for any one to Love himself: | |
Wherefore, for my Pleasure and Delight, my Ease and Peace, I live a Retired | |
Life, a Home Life, free from the Entanglements, confused Clamours, and rumbling | |
Noise of the World, for I by this Retirement live in a calm Silence, wherein I | |
have my Contemplations free from Disturbance, and my Mind lives in Peace, and | |
my Thoughts in Pleasure, they Sport and Play, they are not Vexed with Cares nor | |
worldly Desires, they are not Covetous of worldly Wealth, nor Ambitious of | |
empty Titles; they are not to be caught with the Baits of Sensual Pleasures, | |
or rather I may say, Sensual Follies, for they Draw my Senses to them, and run | |
not out to the Senses; they have no quarrelling Disputes amongst them; they | |
live Friendly and Sociably together; their only Delight is in their own | |
Pastimes and harmless Recreations; and though I do not go Personally to Masks, | |
Balls, and Plays, yet my Thoughts entertain my Mind with such Pleasures, for | |
some of my Thoughts make Plays, and others Act those Plays on the Stage of | |
Imagination, where my Mind sits as a Spectator, Thus my Mind is entertained | |
both with Poets and Players, and takes as much Delight as Augustus Caesar did | |
to have his Maecenas, the Patron of Poets, sit and hear Virgil and Horace read | |
their Works unto them; so my Mind takes Delight in its dear Maecenas, which is | |
Contemplation, and to have its Poetical Thoughts, although not like Virgil or | |
Horace, yet such as they are, it is pleased to have them Repeat their Poems, | |
and other Works which they make; and those my Mind likes best, it sends them | |
forth to the Senses to write them down, and then to send them out to the | |
public view of the World; and many times the Senses send in Objects to the | |
Mind, who straight commands his Poetical Thoughts to take them for Plots of | |
Plays, or causes the Grave Philosophical Thoughts to Discourse of them, or his | |
Oratorical Thoughts to practice their Eloquence on them, or his Critical | |
Thoughts to Dispute and Argue with them, which done, all their several | |
Discourses, Disputes, Arguments, Poems, Plays, and the like, made on those | |
Objects, are sent back to the Senses to write them down, so that the Mind and | |
the Thoughts employ the Senses, and the Senses employ the Mind and Thoughts, | |
and thus I take as much Pleasure within my self, if not more, as the Lady S. P. | |
doth without her self; indeed none enjoys truly himself, but those that live | |
to themselves, as I do, and it is better to be a Self-lover in a Retired Life, | |
than a Self-seeker in a Wandering Humour, like a Vagabond, for they go from | |
Place to Place, from one Company to another, and never are at rest in their | |
Minds nor Bodies; and how should it be otherwise? for they lose themselves in | |
Company, and keeping much Company, they know not where to find themselves, for | |
as for their Dwelling-place, they are sure to miss of themselves there; but | |
indeed they have no constant Dwelling, for going much Abroad, they dwell Every | |
where, and yet to speak Metaphorically, No where. But every ones Delights are | |
different, for the Lady S. P. delights her self with Others, and I delight my | |
self with my Self; Some delight in Troubles, I delight in Ease, and certainly | |
much Company and Conversation cannot choose but be Troublesome; for in much | |
Company are many Exceptions, much Envy, much Suspicion, much Detraction, much | |
Faction, much Noise, and much Non-sense, and it is impossible, at least | |
improbable, for any particular Person to please all the several Companies they | |
come into, or are visited by, if the Resort be many, by reason every one hath | |
as different Humours as Faces, wherein some will be Displeased, if others | |
should be Pleased, and most commonly they are so far from pleasing All, as None | |
is Pleased; for if any particular Person should Praise Every one, it would be | |
thought Flattery, if he should Praise None, it would be conceived to be Envy, | |
if he should Praise but Some, it would be judged to be Partiality; the like for | |
Discourse; if one should Address his Discourse to any One, or to Some more than | |
to Others, it would be taken as a Disrespect, if Generally, to the whole | |
Company, it would be accounted Pride, as taking ones self to be the only | |
Singular Person that must have a General Audience; neither can any one Person | |
fit his Discourse to every one's Humour, Fancy, Capacity, Understanding, | |
Knowledge or Delight, nay, most commonly, whatsoever is Spoken, is Interpreted | |
to the worst Sense, at least, Contradicted, and when they are parted, their | |
Words or Discourse is Repeated to their Disadvantage, and Commented on, and | |
Interpreted to an evil Sense; and if they say Nothing, or but Little, they are | |
accounted Ill-natured, or thought Fools, and yet they love not to hear any one | |
speak but themselves, every one desires to be heard, yet takes it ill not to be | |
spoken to; also if particular Persons make an Entertainment, if they invite not | |
those they have no acquaintance with, as well as those of their Acquaintance, | |
if they are within the distance of coming to the Entertainment, they take it | |
for an Affront, but if they should leave out any Acquaintance, it is a Breach | |
for ever, and they become their Enemies: also if particular Persons be | |
accoustred Bravely, they are Envied, if they be attired in plain, mean | |
Garments, they are Despised; and if any Woman be more Beautiful than commonly | |
the rest are, if she appears to the World, she shall be sure to have more | |
Female Detractors and Slanderers, to ruin her Reputation, than any Monarch hath | |
Soldiers to fight an Enemy, if any Woman be Ill-favoured, it is mentioned as a | |
Reproach, although it be Nature's fault, and not hers, and if she be | |
indifferently Handsome, they speak of her as Regardless; if she be in Years, | |
they will say, she is fitter for the Grave than Company, if Young, fitter for a | |
School than Conversation, if of middle Years, their Tongues are the | |
Fore-runners of her Decay; if she have Wealth, and no Titles, she is like Meat, | |
all Fat and no Blood, and if great Title with small Wealth, they say, she is | |
like a Pudding without Fat, and if she hath both Wealth and Title, they Shun | |
her as the Plague, they Hate to see her, as Owls hate the Light, and if she | |
hath neither Wealth nor Title, they Scorn her Company, and will not cast an eye | |
towards her; and thus the Generality is to every Particular: wherefore it is | |
impossible for any Particular either to Please the Humours, or Avoid the | |
Slanders or Reproaches of the Generality, for every One is against Another; | |
indeed, every One is against All, and All against every One, and yet through | |
the itch of Talk, Luxury, Wantonness and Vanity, they will Associate into | |
Companies, or rather I may say, Gather into Companies, and Frequent each others | |
Houses, whereas those that endeavour to be truly Happy, will not be Troubled | |
with such Follies, nor Disturbed with such Toys: But I am not so Retired, as | |
to bar my self from the Company of my good Friends, or such as are free from | |
Exception, as not to Translate harmless and simple Words, to an evil Sense or | |
Meaning, or such as are so Noble, as not to Dispraise, or Detract from such | |
Persons as they are pleased to take the pains to Visit, or from such as will | |
not take it for a Neglect, if I do not punctually return their Visit, or | |
perhaps not Visit them at any time, but will Excuse or Pardon my Lazy Humour, | |
and not account it a Disrespect, as truly it is none, for I do Honour and | |
Admire all Civil, Worthy, and Honourable Persons, and would be ready at all | |
times Honestly to Serve them. But this Retired Life is so Pleasing to me, as I | |
would not change it for all the Pleasures of the Public World, nay, not to be | |
Mistress of the World, for I should not desire to be Mistress of that which is | |
too Big to be Commanded, too Self-willed to be Ruled, too Factious to be | |
Governed, too Turbulent to live in Peace, and Wars would Fright, at least | |
Grieve me, that mankind should be so Ill-natur'd and Cruel to Destroy each | |
other. To conclude, I am more Happy in my Home-retirement, than I believe the | |
Lady S. P. is in her Public Frequentments, having a Noble and Kind Husband, | |
who is Witty and Wise Company, a Peaceable and Quiet Mind, and Recreative | |
Thoughts, that take harmless Liberty; and all this I have declared to you, that | |
you may let the Lady S. P. know that my Retirement from the public Concourse | |
and Army of the World, and Regiments of Acquaintance, is neither through | |
Constraint, nor Fantastic Humour, but through a Love to Peace, Ease, and | |
Pleasure, all which you Enjoy; which is the fulfilling of your Ladyships | |
faithful Friend and Servant's Happiness. | |
XXX. | |
MADAM, | |
YEsterday, being not in the Humour of Writing, I took Plutarch's Lives, or as | |
some call them, Plutarch's Lies, but Lives or Lies, or a mixture of both, I | |
read part of the day in that Book, and it was my chance to read the Life of | |
Pericles the Athenian, in which Story he is Commended for his Gravity, | |
Government, and Wisdom; this Pericles I did much Admire all the time I read of | |
him, until I did read where it was mentioned of his marrying Aspasia, a famous | |
Courtesan, and then I did not think him so Wise a man as I did before, in that | |
he could not rule his Passion better, but to marry a Whore; neither doth | |
Gravity and Wantonness suit well together, for to my imagination a Grave | |
Cuckold doth appear most Ridiculous: And although she was Constant to him, yet | |
the Lewdness of her former Life could not but be a great Blemish to him, as to | |
marry the Dregs and Leavings of other men; But it seemed that she had an | |
Attractive Power, especially on such as they call Wise men, as Statesmen, | |
Philosophers, and Governors, and all this Power lay in her Tongue, which was a | |
Bawd for the other end; nay, so well (it is said) she could Speak, that not | |
only such men as forementioned did come to hear her, and to learn to speak | |
Eloquently by her, but many also brought their Wives to hear her, which in my | |
opinion was Dangerous, lest they might learn her Vice with her Rhetoric; but | |
it seems the Graecians were not like the Italians concerning their Wives, | |
although they were like them concerning their Courtesans; but honest Women take | |
not so much care to Speak well, as to Do that which is Virtuous. And so leaving | |
Aspasia and Pericles in Plutarch's History, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXXI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Cannot wonder if I hear that men which are Advanced to Power and Authority | |
should be Dispraised, because it's usual; but rather I should wonder, if I | |
should hear such men Praised or Applauded, although their Lives and Actions | |
were Blameless, nay Wise and Honest; for I have observed, that if any man have | |
more Wealth, Merit, Power, or Wit, than his Neighbour, he is sure to be | |
privately Hated, and publicly Railed or Exclaimed against, and to show their | |
Hate and Dispraise is against his Merit, Wealth, Power, Wit, or the like, if | |
this man fall from those Favours either of Fortune or Nature, he is not only | |
Pitied, but dearly Beloved, and highly Praised; and this Ill and Inconstant | |
Nature and Humour is so frequent in all Ages and Nations, as it may very easily | |
be believed, that it was Created in the Essence of mankind, insomuch, that had | |
Men been created before the Angels Fell, they would have Envied their Glory, | |
and Accused God of Partiality, in making such difference between Men and | |
Angels, but whenas those Angels were cast from Heaven to Hell for their | |
Wickedness, they would Censure God for being too Severe in their Punishment; | |
Yet, Madam, mistake me not, to believe all men are so Envious and Ill-natur'd, | |
but some; for surely though many Angels fell through Spiritual Pride, Envy, and | |
Ambition, yet many remained in Heaven, as Pure as when first Created; and so | |
likewise many Men by the Mercy of God are bred to Virtue, and blessed with | |
Piety, to which I leave them, and rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXXII. | |
MADAM, | |
SIr, D. D. and his Lady had invited a great many of their Friends to a | |
Feasting Dinner, and being Set, they fell to Eating, and soon after to Talking, | |
for Talking accompanies Eating and Drinking, especially at a Feast; but amongst | |
other Discourses, they were speaking of Marriage, Husbands and Wives, where Sir | |
D. D. said somewhat that his Wife had great reason to take Unkindly, knowing | |
her Virtue had deserved more loving Expressions from him, especially in an open | |
Assembly, which Unkindness forced Tears through her Eyes, but they were | |
becoming Tears, for they did not cause the Feature in her Face to be Distorted, | |
for she appeared in her Countenance Sweet and Amiable, as if there had been no | |
Discontent in her Mind, neither did she show any Discontent in her Words or | |
Behaviour, for she neither Complained, nor Railed at her Husband, nor Quarrelled | |
with him, nor rose from the Table in a Passion, to the Disturbance of the | |
Company, as most Women would have done, and often do, when they are Displeased | |
or Angered, but she wiped the Tears from her Eyes, and Addressed her self, as she | |
did before, to Entertain her Friends Civilly and Courteously, and when they had | |
all Dined, and the Cloth taken away, she asked pardon of her Friends for her | |
Tears, saying her Tears had made their meeting appear rather as a funeral | |
Condoling, than a merry Feasting: But truly, said she, I could not help it, for | |
they would not be restrained do what I could, for some words my Husband spoke | |
caused a Storm of Grief in my mind, which raised up Billows of Tears that | |
overflowed my Eyes, yet, said she, the Dearest and Loving'st Friends will both | |
Take and Give Cause of Exception sometimes, for not any Man or Woman is so | |
Perfect as not to Err; and thus her Discretion did not suffer her Passion to | |
Disturb her Guests, and her good Nature did Excuse her Husband's Folly, and her | |
Love did Forgive his Disrespect to her; But the Lady C. C. did not behave her | |
self so, for her Husband Sir G. C. and she had invited many of their Friends to | |
a Feasting Dinner, and she, as the Mistress, to order all affairs belonging to | |
a Wife, took upon her to order the Feast, and being a Mode-Lady, would have a | |
Mode-Feast; but the Cook knowing his Master loved roast Beef, sent in a Chine of | |
roast Beef to the Table, and when her Guests were all Set, and beginning to Eat, | |
she spied the Chine of Beef, whereat she was very angry, to have, as she | |
thought, her Feast disgraced with an old English fashion, and not only an Old, | |
but a Country fashion, to have Beef served to their Table; wherefore she, to | |
show her self a Courtier, rather than a Country-Lady, commanded one of the | |
waiters to take the Beef from the Table, Sir G. C. her Husband desired not to | |
have it taken away, for said he, I love Beef better than any other Meat, but | |
she to express she had a Ladies Nice Stomach, or rather a Nice Lady's Stomach, | |
said, the Beef was fulsome to her Eyes, and made her Stomach sick to see it, her | |
Husband bad her to look upon some of the other meat, and to give him leave to | |
eat of what he liked; but she would not agree to that, for, said she, the very | |
Smell was Offensive to her, and therefore she would have it taken away, he said | |
it should not be taken away, until he had eaten as much as he would; but in | |
fine, their words Multiplied, and gathered together in an outrageous Tumult, | |
raised their voices into an Uproar, and then from Words they went to Blows, | |
flinging whatsoever came next to hand at one another head; their Guests being | |
in danger to be Hurt, rose from the Table, and Sir G. C. and his Lady rose | |
also, and went to Cuffs, but their Friends did soon part them, and the Lady | |
went Crying into her Chamber, and was Sick, because she had not her Will, at | |
least Feigned her self Sick; As for their Guests, they were rather invited to | |
Fast than to Feast, as it fell out, for all the fine Quelquechose was spoiled, | |
and overthrown in the hurly burly, but the Beef was so Substantial and Solid, | |
as it strongly kept its place, on which the Guests might have Fed; but Fright, | |
Noise and Disorder, had taken away their Appetite to Eating. Thus, Madam, I | |
have related these Feasts and Entertainings, to let you know the different | |
Humours and Behaviours of these two Ladies, the one having cause to be Angry, | |
did Patiently and Discreetly pass over her Injury, appearing Celestial, the | |
other out of a vain Humour, fell into a raging Passion, the truth is, she | |
showed her self a Fool, and behaved her self as Mad. But leaving the Angelic | |
Lady to be a Pattern to her Sex, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. S. | |
XXXIII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Do not wonder, that the Lord C. R. should delight in Effeminate Pastimes, as | |
Dancing, Fiddling, Visiting, Junketing, Attiring, and the like, because he is | |
an Effeminate Man, fitter to Dance with a Lady, than to Fight with an Enemy; | |
nor do I wonder that the Lord N. W. practises Riding, Fencing, Vaulting, | |
Shooting, Hunting, Fortifying, Navigating, and the like, because he is an | |
Heroic Man, fitter to Conquer a Nation, than to Dance a Galliard or Courant; | |
nor I do not wonder that the Lord A. M. Drinks, Whores, Games, and the like, | |
because he is a Debauched Man, apter to Quarrel than to Fight; neither do I | |
wonder that the Lord L. V. Studies, Reads, Writes, Travels, Inquires and | |
Searches for Right and Truth, because he is a Wise Man; nor I do not wonder at | |
the Lord F. O. that loves Amorous Courtships, because he is an Idle Man; nor I | |
do not wonder at the Lord C. H. that Prays to God, Sends to the Sick, and | |
Relieves the Poor, because he is a Good Man; nor do I wonder at the Lord W. I. | |
who Extorts, Exacts, and Deceives, because he is a Wicked Man; neither do I | |
wonder at the Lord C. C. who Visits the Meritorious, Applauds the Worthy, | |
Assists the Industrious, and the like, because he is a Generous Person; nor I | |
do not wonder at the Lord G. R. that he Speaks false with his Tongue, | |
Dissembles in his Countenance, Betrays in his Actions, because he is a Base | |
Man. Thus, Madam, we may divide Mankind into eight parts, or rather into four; | |
for those four, as the Effeminate, Idle, Wicked, and Base, are but the Slime | |
and Dung of Mankind, and only the Heroic, Wise, Good, and Generous, are the | |
Soul and Body of Mankind; the first are neither good for Citizens, Magistrates, | |
nor Commanders, but rather fit to be set in the fore-fronts of Battles to be | |
Destroyed, or to fill up Breaches, being but Rubbish; but then you will say, | |
this were the way to Destroy most Men in the World, the truth is, if it were | |
not for such Men and Ravenous Beasts, the World would be rather a Heaven than a | |
World. But leaving them and Beasts, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXXIV. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased to Express to me in your last Letter, that you have been in | |
the Country to see the Lady M. L. who seems Melancholy since she was married, | |
which is a sign she is not pleased with the Condition of her Life; I believe | |
one of the causes of her Melancholy is; that she is in the Country, wherein is | |
little Resort, especially of courting Gallants, for most Women love Variety of | |
Company, and much Company, even married Wives as well as Maids, neither do all | |
Widows shun Company; As for Maids, they have an excuse to get them Husbands, | |
and Widows are at liberty to make a second, third, or fourth Choice, when their | |
Husbands are dead, but Wives have no excuse for the Company of Courting | |
Servants, and merry Meetings, but only the Spleen, which nothing can cure but | |
Company and Jollity, to divert Melancholy, and to remove the Splenetic | |
Obstructions and Crude Vapours, for which Dancing, Feasting, Gaming, and the | |
like, is the best Cure, Probatum est; Whereas the lone Company of a Husband is | |
so far from working any Cure, as it is many times the Cause of the Disease; But | |
if her Melancholy proceed from want of Variety of Company, I pity both her | |
Husband and Attendants, for most commonly a Peevish Frowardness doth attend | |
that Melancholy, they will Quarrel with every Thing, and not be Pleased with | |
Any, take Exceptions at every Word, complain of being Sick, but know not where | |
their Pains are, even as Weary of Themselves, which makes their Husbands many | |
times Weary of Them, and to Divert the Grief of their Wives Troubles, they | |
Solace with their Wives Maids, who are more Pleasant Company, being not | |
troubled with the Spleen, as not having a Husband, nay, when they do Marry, | |
their minds are so employed about getting a Livelihood, as they have not time | |
to think of their Splenes, besides, they are forced to Labour and Work for | |
their Living, which keeps them from such Obstructions or Disease, and the | |
Spleen is a Disease which is only amongst the Noble and Rich, whose Wealth | |
makes them Idle, and their Idleness begets an appetite to Variety of Diets, | |
Clothes, and Company, whereas Poor, Laborious People know not such Disease. But | |
leaving this Theme, give me leave to welcome you out of the Country, and to | |
acquaint you, that I will shortly Personally wait upon you, as is the duty of, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXXV. | |
MADAM, | |
SIr W. Cs. Wife you know hath a Conversable and Ingenious Wit, yet not being | |
very handsome, her Husband hath got him a Mistress, who is very beautiful and | |
handsome, but yet she is a Fool; a Friend of his asked him why he chose a Fool | |
for his Mistress? he said, he did not Court her for her Wit, but for her | |
Beauty; for, said he, now I have a Mistress for Delight, and a Wife for | |
Conversation, I have a Mistress to Look on, and Admire, and a Wife to Listen to | |
and Discourse with, and both to Embrace at my Pleasure; but, said his Friend, | |
if your Wife should come to know you have a Mistress, you will not take much | |
Pleasure in her Conversation, unless you account mourning Complaints of, or to | |
you, Exclamations and Curses against you, cross Speeches, opposite Actions, and | |
hideous Noise, to be Conversable and Delightful; for the truth is, said he, | |
your Wife's words will be so Salt, Sharp, and Bitter, as they will Corrode your | |
Mind, Leaven your Thoughts, and make your Life Unpleasant. My Wife, said Sir W. | |
C. shall not know I have a Mistress; his Friend replied, your often Absence | |
will Betray you, or else some other will tell her, for Adultery is like Murder, | |
it seldom escapes finding out; and since that time Sir W. Cs. Lady hath heard | |
of her Husbands Mistress, but she seems not to be Angry at it, but talks of it | |
with great Patience, saying, that if her Husband takes Pleasure in Variety, he | |
will be more delighted with her Wit, than with his Mistress's Beauty, and will | |
sooner be tired with gazing on One Object, than in hearing Divers Discourses | |
and Diversions of Wit, Sense, Reason, Judgement, Fancy, and Speech; Besides, | |
said she, Wit attracts the Mind more to Love, than Beauty to Admiration, and | |
if my Husband Loves me Best, said she, I am well content he should Admire her | |
Beauty Most, as also to Embrace her as much as he pleases, for I am so | |
Delighted, and Wedded to my own Wit, that I regard not my Husbands Amours nor | |
Embracings, for Wit is Spiritual and not Corporeal, it lives with the Mind, | |
and not with the Body, being not subject to the gross Senses, for though Wit, | |
said she, may be made known by Words and Actions, yet those are but the | |
Pictures of Wit's Works, not Wit it self, for that cannot be Drawn, it is | |
beyond all Draughts; and so much Difference, said she, is between my Husband's | |
Mistress and his Wife, as a Picture and an invisible Spirit, which Spirit can | |
both Help and Hurt, Delight and Terrify, Damn and Glorify; But howsoever, | |
said she, my Wit shall not be my Husbands Evil Spirit, neither to Reproach | |
him, nor to Disgrace, Reprove, Delude, or Anger him, but it shall be always | |
ready to Defend, Commend, Inform, Delight, and if it could, to Reform him; but | |
I believe, said she, that is past the power of my Wit, for it is a hard matter | |
to Restrain Nature from Liberty, especially of the Appetites, for the Passions | |
of the Mind are more easily Governed, than the Appetites of the Body, for they | |
are Sensual and Brutal, wherefore Time is a better Reformer of the Appetites | |
than Reason. But, Madam, this is to let you know the Lady W. Cs. Wit, | |
Discretion, and Temper, which is more than most of our Sex hath; and so leaving | |
her to her Wit, and her Husband to Reformation, and his Mistress's Beauty to | |
Time, I rest, | |
Madam, Your most faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXXVI. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased in your last Letter to express, how Mr. P. C. is persecuted | |
by another man's Whore, which is not usual, for though many men are Persecuted | |
by their own Whores, both in Body, Mind, Course of Life, and Estate, Diseasing | |
the One, Vexing the Other, Opposing the Third, and Spending the Fourth, yet not | |
usually by any other man's, but their own, at least believing them to be only | |
theirs; but I believe Mr. P. C. will not easily clear himself from her, for | |
Courtesans are often assisted by the Powerful, insomuch as in any Law-sute or | |
petitioning Request, they shall be heard, and their Suit granted, although | |
against all Law or Right; Such Power and Favour hath Concupiscence, as to | |
corrupt Magistrates, bribe Judges, fee Lawyers, flatter Courtiers, and the | |
truth is, entice, allure, and persuade most of Mankind; but although there be | |
in all Ages and Nations, Courtesans, and Men liable to be Tempted, yet men have | |
not been frequently tempted, persuaded, or allured to Marry Courtesans, unless | |
in this Age, wherein Courtesans are so Prevalent and Fortunate, as they do not | |
only get themselves Husbands, when Beauty and Lovers begin to leave them, but | |
marry more Richly and Honourably for Dignities, than Honest, Chaste Widows, or | |
Pure and Innocent Virgins, which is apt to make Honest and Chaste Women to | |
doubt, their Honesty and Chastity is not blessed with such good Fortune as | |
Dishonesty is, insomuch as those that are not Honest, merely, and for no other | |
end, than for Honestie's sake, may be Corrupted through hopes of good Fortune; | |
but where Virtue takes a thorough Possession, it never leaves the Habitation; yet | |
many that have been Base, Wicked, and of Beastly Lives, may be Reformed, so as | |
to become very Honest, Worthy, and Pure, and such Reclaimed Persons ought to be | |
Esteemed and Respected, for I am not of Mrs. F. Rs. Humour, who Hates a | |
Reformado. But some Men are of that Humour, as they Hate Honest, Chaste Women, | |
not only out of a Despair of their Enjoyments, but that they love the Company | |
and Conversation of Wanton and Free Women, insomuch that a Courtesan shall | |
have a greater and stronger Power to Cause and Persuade Men to do Actions not | |
only to the Ruin of their Estates and Families, but to the Ruin of their | |
Honours and Reputation, nay, to make them Unnatural, Extravagant or Base, than | |
an Honest Chaste Wife hath to Persuade her Husband to keep his Estate, Honour, | |
or Honesty; for many a Worthy and Honourable Person hath Degenerated from his | |
Birth and Breeding, from his Natural Courage and Generosity, from his Loyalty | |
and Duty, from his Natural Affection and Sacred Vows, from his Honour and | |
Reputation, through the Persuasion of VVhores; nay, many Men love a Whore so | |
much more than an Honest and Chaste Woman, as many make better Husbands, and | |
are more Fond and Kinder to their Wives if they be Libertines, than if they | |
were Honest and True to their Marriage-Bed; But leaving such men to their own | |
Heads, and their VVives to their Neighbours Beds, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXXVII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased to tell me in your last Letter, that there was a great and | |
earnest Dispute between O. G. and C. O. in Divinity, as to prove many things | |
which are easier to be Believed than Proved; for though Proof makes Knowledge, | |
yet Belief doth not make Proof; for though many thousands of men Believe alike | |
one Thing or Things a thousand years, yet neither the number of Men, nor of | |
Years, doth prove it to be true, it only proves that so many Men did believe it | |
for so many Years; for though there be many things in Nature that may be | |
Conceived, and Demonstrated to Reason, at least, to have a Probability in | |
Reason, but cannot be Demonstrated to the Senses, yet the Conceptions do | |
oftener deceive, not only the Reason, but the Senses, than the Senses do the | |
Reason or Conception, for though the Senses may, and are oftentimes Mistaken | |
and Deluded, yet they are the most certain and surest Guides and Informers we | |
have; But Divinity is above all Sense and Reason, as also all Demonstrations, | |
wherefore Faith is required in all Religions, for what cannot be Conceived or | |
Apprehended, must be Believed, and if the chief Pillar of Religion is Faith, | |
Men should Believe more, and Dispute less, for Disputations do argue Weakness | |
of Faith, nay, they make a Strong Faith Faint, for all Disputes in Divinity are | |
Enemies to Faith, and are apt through Contradictions and Different Opinions, to | |
Destroy Religion, making the Thoughts and Mind Atheistical, and the Words | |
Sophistical, Men spending more time in Disputing than Praying, rather striving | |
to Express their Wit than to Increase their Knowledge, for Divine Mysteries | |
are beyond all Natural Capacity, and the School-men have rather taught Men | |
Contradictions than Truth, and Church-men rather Division than Union. But all | |
Disputes and Arguments in Divinity are only fit for Church-men, whose | |
Profession is to be Teachers and Instructors in the Divine Laws, and not for | |
Lay-men, unless they intend to be Church-men: for as all National Laws have | |
Judges, Sergeants, Barresters, Attorneys, and the like, to Perform and Execute | |
the Common and Civil Laws, that have been Prudently Enacted for the Good and | |
Benefit of the Bodily Life and Commonwealth; so there are Bishops, Deans, | |
Deacons, Parish-Priests and Curats, to Perform and Execute the Divine Laws, | |
which have been Spiritually Enacted for the Salvation of men's Souls; and as | |
Lawyers are Informers of the National Laws, and Pleaders of Causes, so | |
Ministers are Informers of the Divine Laws, and Teachers of good Life, and all | |
Spiritual Causes should be Decided by the Bishops, as all National or Human | |
Causes by the Judges, otherwise there would be a Confusion both in Church and | |
State; wherefore those that are not of that Profession, ought not to meddle | |
therewith, or Dispute thereof, but to Submit to that which our Fore-fathers | |
thought fit to Enact, Order, and Dispose, for the good of their Successors, and | |
Succedent Times; And so leaving O. G. and C. O. to agree if they can, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
XXXVIII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased to desire, that one of my Servants should inquire for Sir N. | |
G. and give him a Letter, or to leave the Letter at his Lodgings. Madam, I must | |
tell you what I hear, which is, that he may be Enquired for, but before he can | |
be Found, or his Lodgings Known, he will be gone out of the Town; not that he | |
obscures his Lodging, but that he Stays not any where, for he is like a | |
Shadow, or a Ghost, when you think it is so near as to speak to it, it straight | |
appears afar off, or Vanishes away; and he is not only in this City, but in | |
every Town, for he rides from Town to Town, as Birds fly from Tree to Tree, | |
and his only business is for Divertisement for Health, so that his Life is as | |
if it rid Post; but let him ride from Death as far as he can, and do what he | |
can to Shun it, yet Death will Meet him at his Journeys end, and there Arrest | |
him, and Imprison his Body in a Grave, for Time hath laid an Action of Battery | |
against him, and hath now threescore and fifteen years Summoned him to Appear, | |
but as yet he keeps out of Sight, and will as long as he can, as we may | |
perceive by his riding, and short stay in every place he comes to. Indeed | |
Nature hath been his Friend, and seems to be so still, and as long as she | |
Protects him, Death cannot get him; nay, she hath Favoured him more than many | |
of his Neighbours, or Acquaintance, for he never stays so long in one place, | |
as to make a Neighbourhood, but hath Acquaintance in every place; neither doth | |
he tronble any Acquaintance with long Visits, but only as to ask how they do, | |
and so farewell; he doth not stay to examine the long Welfare of his old | |
Acquaintance, nor to make tedious Complements with new Acquaintance, nor stays | |
to inquire for those Acquaintance he sees not, but he will make new | |
Acquaintance at first sight; and this Advantage he hath by riding to several | |
places, if it be any, that he hears more News than any other man, for he meets | |
News in every Town, which his Memory like a Portmanteau carries with him, and as | |
in every Town he takes up some News, so in every Town he leaves some; But such | |
a Posting Life, were I a Man, would be Wearisome to me, for it would soon Tire | |
my Life, or Rid me out of the World, at least to my thinking, although to him | |
it is a Sport and Pleasure, or else he would not do so, since he is not | |
Constrained thereto. Wherefore, as for your Letter, it must either be sent back | |
to you again, or else it must lie here as a Watch to Take him, for it is | |
impossible it should Overtake him, nor can any one tell where to find him, | |
except those that are in the same place he is, which soon changes to Is not, so | |
as one may say, he Is, and Is not, he is like a Jugglers Ball, 'tis here, 'tis | |
gone; but he is no Juggler himself, for I hear he is a very Worthy Person, and | |
his Honest and Harmless Endeavour to Prolong his Life, shows him a Wise man; | |
and so leaving him and your Letter to meet, though I know not when, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XXXIX. | |
MADAM, | |
I May give the Lady F. L. Joy of her second Marriage, for I hear she is | |
Married again; but I fear it will be applied to her, what is said of another | |
Lady, who Married first very well for Title and Wealth, her Husband being in | |
Years, but she very Poor, and amongst much Company it was told, she seemed to | |
be a Crafty, Witty Woman, that she could get such an Husband; no, said one man, | |
it was not the Wit or Craft of the Lady, that got her such a Husband, but the | |
Folly of the Man that Married such a Wife; and after he Died and left her very | |
Rich, she married a Young man that had no Estate, and then they said, that it | |
seemed her second Husband was a Wise Man, that he could get so Rich a Wife; | |
no, said the former Man, it was not the Wisdom of the Man, but the Folly of the | |
Woman, that caused that Match; so she was even with her first Husband in Folly, | |
for he played the Fool to Marry her, and she played the Fool to Marry her | |
second Husband. Thus most of the World of mankind is mistaken, for what they | |
Attribute to some men's Wit, is other men's Folly, but for Marriages, the truth | |
is, that Folly makes more Marriages than Prudence; as for Example, Mr. A. B. | |
hath Married a Common Courtesan, if she had been Particular, it had been more | |
Excusable; but all men are not so foolish, for I hear that Sir W. S. will | |
rather endure the Persecution of his own Courtesan, than Marry her. But leaving | |
the Lady F. L. to her new Husband, and Mr. A. B. to his new Wife, and Sir W. S. | |
to his pursuing Whore, I rest, | |
Madam, Your most faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XL. | |
MADAM, | |
I Have observed, that in time of Peace most men study the School-men and | |
Fathers, and in times of War they study Martial-men and Poets, or rather | |
Practise what former Martial-men have Taught, and Repeat what former Poets have | |
Written, for when they are in Garrisons, or have any spare time from Fighting, | |
as Assaulting, or Defending, they will choose to read Homer, Virgil, and Lucian, | |
rather than St. Ambrose, St. Hierome, St. Augustin, St. Chrysostome, or the | |
like, or rather than they will read Books of Controversies, as Scotus, Thomas | |
Aquinas, and others, they will read Caesar's Commentaries; the truth is, though | |
School-men and Books of Controversies do not Fight Combats, yet they make | |
Quarrels and Disputations, so that there are More, Oftener, and Continual Wars | |
in Schools than in the Field, only that their Weapons they use in Schools, are | |
not so deadly as those that are used in the Field, for there is great | |
difference between Tongues and Swords, Words and Blows; The truth is, Scholars | |
and Women quarrel much alike, as after the same manner, wherein is more Noise | |
than Danger, and more Spite than Mischief; but yet different Opinions in | |
Religion and Laws in a Commonwealth, cause Cruel Civil Wars, making Factions | |
and Parties, with Disputations and Arguments, and nothing will decide the | |
Quarrel but Blood and Death, nor end the War, but Destruction of the Whole, or | |
Conquering Victory of the one Party over the other, whereof the late Wars in | |
this Country are a woeful Example, all being brought to Confusion with Preaching | |
and Pleading, on the one side Preachers and Pleaders became Soldiers, on the | |
other side, Soldiers became Preachers and Pleaders, so that the Word and the | |
Sword made great Troubles, and grievous Calamities in these Nations, and though | |
there hath been much Blood Shed, many Lives Lost, Men Banished, and Families | |
Ruined, yet there are Divisions still; But leaving War and Strife, and Praying | |
for Peace and Quiet, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XLI. | |
MADAM, | |
'TIs now become a fashion for men to brag of their Fortunes or Estates, to get | |
Credit, as to Borrow, or run on the Score, for they think if Trades-men believe | |
they are able to Pay, they will be willing to Trust, and if they can get Trust, | |
they'll spend as long as their Credit will last, and when they ow Most, they | |
bear up Highest, for Tradesmen for fear of Losing what they have Trusted or | |
Lent, will Trust or Lend more in hope to be paid All at last, so as they fling | |
the Handle after the Hatchet; and whereas at first the Borrowers are Humble to | |
get Credit, at last the Creditors become Humble Petitioners for their Own, and | |
Wait for an Answer with their Caps in their hands, and the Borrower, like a | |
proud Favourite, will hardly be Seen or Spoken to, nay, when he vouchsafes them | |
his Presence and Answer, he gives them Words for Pay, and Promises more than | |
he is able to Perform, and sometimes they have Frowns and Checks, for being so | |
Presumptuous to Come before they were Sent for, or so Bold to Ask for what was | |
justly Owing them; But certainly Creditors deserve good Words for their good | |
Deeds, though they can get no Money for their Wares. But in these needy times | |
Tradesmen must venture to Trust, or else they will hardly put off their | |
Commodities, for where one pays ready Money, five, nay twenty, run on the | |
Score; the reason is, there is not so much Money in Specie, not in all Europe, | |
nay, in the World, as to pay readily for all that is Bought, for there are | |
more Commodities than Money, I may say, more Paper than Money, for Paper and | |
Parchment pays more than Money; a little Money sprinkled amongst many Bills and | |
Bonds, keeps up Commerce and Trading throughout the World, more than Exchange | |
of Commodities doth. But those live most at Ease that Borrow not, and those | |
that Lend not have the most Friends, for there's an old Saying, Lend your Money, | |
and Lose your Friend; the truth is, a man shall sooner lose a Friend with a | |
Debt, than get a Friend by a Gift. But leaving Debts and Gifts to the Poor and | |
the Rich, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XLII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am sorry Sir F.O. hath Undervalued himself so much below is Birth and | |
Wealth, as to Marry his Kitchin-maid, but it was a sign he had an Hungry | |
Appetite, or that he lived a Solitary Life, Seeing no better Company, or | |
Conversed not with Women of Quality; or else he hath been too Privately Kind, | |
and was loath to have it Publicly Known; or he hath tried her Virtue, and so | |
Married her for Chastity, though many Women will Deny some, and Grant to | |
others; or else he Married her for Beauty, or Wit, or both, although the | |
Inferior or meaner sort of People, especially Women, are oftener owners of | |
Beauty than Wit, and if they have some Wit, it is only Sharp Replies, which | |
are a kind of a Scolding; and I have heard that the Way or Manner of Courtship | |
amongst the Inferior sort of People in E. is Scolding, they Scold themselves | |
into Matrimony, or at least, make Love in a rough, rude Style; But perchance | |
Sir F. O. Married his Kitchin-maid in hopes she would make a Nimble and | |
Obedient Wife, which he might fear one of Equal Birth would not be; Indeed he | |
hath chosen one out of the humblest Offices, or Household Employments, for the | |
Kitchen for the most part is the lowest Room in a House; Yet I write not this | |
as believing he may not be Happy in his Choice, for 'tis likely the Match may | |
be more Happy than Honourable, and if he thinks it no Disgrace, or cares not | |
for Disgrace, all is well, for it only concerns himself, as having no Parents | |
living to Grieve or Anger, nor no former Children to Suffer by. But though her | |
Office and Birth were both Dripping or Basting, yet his Dignity and Wealth hath | |
made her a gay Lady; and so leaving him to his dish of Brewess, I rest, | |
Madam, | |
Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XLIII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased to desire me to send you my opinion of Mrs. R. Es. Wit, truly | |
I cannot judge of her Wit until I have a longer Acquaintance with her, for | |
there are many several Degrees, and divers Sorts of Wit, as from a Pint to a | |
Tun, or Teirce, or Pipe of Wit, all which may be drawn Dry, and their Brains | |
be as Empty Barrels; and some have Rivers, or Seas of Wit, which sometimes Ebb | |
and some Flow, wherein some have Double Tides; and others have Springs of Wit, | |
which issue out into small Streams, but make great Floods, by reason they | |
constantly Flow without Intermission. But there are not many Seas, nor Rivers, | |
nor Floods, nor Springs of Wit, for there are more Bottels than Springs, and | |
more Barrels than Seas of Wit. As for Spring Wit, it is Fresh, Sweet, Calm, | |
Smooth, Pure, Bright and Clear, whereas Sea Wit is Salt, Sad, Fomy, Rough, | |
Boisterous, Unsteady, sometimes Dangerous. And as there are several Degrees of | |
Wit for Quantity, and Sorts of Wit for Quality, so there are Several Weights of | |
Wit, for Salt Wit is Heavy and Searching, it Presses to the Centre, and Peirces | |
to the Quick, and opens the Obstructions of the World of Mankind, like as | |
Mineral VVaters do the Spleen, or the like parts of the Body, whereas Fresh | |
Spring Wit is Light and Airy, Running with a Smooth and Quick Motion, | |
Refreshing the World of Mankind, Bathing the Soul, Cleansing the Thoughts, and | |
Quenching the Drought of Time, which is Overheated with Running; but least my | |
Pen should become Dry with Writing, having not Wit enough to Moisten it, I'll | |
take my leave, and rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
XLIV. | |
MADAM, | |
AS it was formerly the Fashion, or Custom of those that received Visits, if | |
they were Weary of their Visitors, to look in their Watches, or to Gape, or | |
Yawn; so now it is to have always, or for the most part, Pen, Ink, and Paper | |
lying upon the Table in their Chamber, for an Excuse they are writing Letters; | |
as for the first, it is Rude, and the last for the most part is False; | |
wherefore methinks it would be an Honester and Nobler Custom to speak the | |
Truth, as to say, they Desire not to be Visited, at such Times as they would | |
not have Company, or from such Persons as they Care not for, or to tell them | |
truly, that they cannot Entertain them, having some Occasions which require | |
their Attendance or Employment, or that they are not Well, and Company would be | |
Troublesome to them; But to receive their Visits, and then not Entertain them | |
Handsomely, Civilly, Courteously, but Dissemblingly, Carelessly or | |
Disrespectfully, is neither fit for Persons of Quality to do to any Company, if | |
they will think them worthy to receive a Visit of them; neither fit for Persons | |
of Quality to suffer from any Person; But the Visited and Visitors do not | |
always know how to Behave themselves, for Noble Births may have Mean Breeding, | |
for some are Nobly Born and Meanly Bred, and some are Humbly Born and Nobly | |
Bred, and some are Nobly Born and Nobly Bred, but those are Few, and some are | |
neither Well Born nor Well Bred, and those are Many, but very Few are Bred so | |
Exactly, as to know Punctually how to Behave themselves to every particular | |
Person, and in every several Company, much less in every Action of their Life, | |
which are almost Innumerous, and as Different. Wherefore those are most to be | |
Commended, that can go through the Course of their Life with fewest Errors; a | |
Busy Nature is apt to commit Most, and they that meddle least in the Affairs | |
of the World, and are most sparing of Speech, commit Fewest. 'Tis true, every | |
living man commits some, but thos^ are Happy that can Reckon their Errors, | |
that they are not past Account. But if I write my Letter longer, I shall add | |
one Error more to those many that are past, although I am sure you will pardon | |
those wherewith I have offended you, as believing they were not willingly, but | |
ignorantly committed by, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XLV. | |
MADAM, | |
SInce I writ to you that Letter of the first of the last Month, I have several | |
times Conversed with Mrs. R. E. and I find her Wit runs in Parts, like as | |
Music, where there must be several Parties to Play or Sing several Parts; she | |
is not a whole Consort her self, neither can she Play the grounds of Wit, but | |
yet she can make a shift to fill up a Note; and it is to be observed, that Wit | |
in several Persons runs on several Subjects, but few have general Wits, as to | |
Play Musically upon every Subject, especially without making a Fault, for I | |
have known some, on some particular Subjects, will be wonderful Witty, and on | |
others mere Dunces and Idiots. And for parts of Wit, some have Gossiping Wit, | |
as Midwife and Nurse Wit, also Wafer and Hippocras Wit, Ale and Cake Wit, as in | |
Christening, Churching, Lying in, and other Gossipings; Others have Bridal Wit, | |
Game-some Wit, also Gaming Wit, Tavern-Wit, Brothel-VVit, and some have | |
Court-VVit, which is a Jeering, Scoffing Wit, but all these are but Scums or | |
Dregs of Wit, only Scum-VVit swims on the top, which soon boils over, and | |
Dreg-VVit lies at the bottom, and is hardly stirred without much motion to | |
raise it up. Thus several sorts of Wit run about amongst Mankind, and Mrs. E. | |
Rs. Wit is a Platonic Wit, as loving Friendships, and the conversation of | |
Souls, but take her from the Platonic, and she is gone, both from Wit and | |
Understanding, or those are gone from her; and so leaving her to her | |
single-Self, and her Wit to her Platonick-Lover, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XLVI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Have observed, that in all Combustions and Wars, those get more Favour and | |
Profit that enter into them Latest, for those that are at the Beginning, for | |
the most part, are Losers, either in Lives, or Estates, or both, and are least | |
Favoured by those they Fight or Adventure for, nay most commonly they are | |
Disfavour'd; wherefore, if Honour and Honesty would give leave, were I a Man, I | |
would not enter until the last course, for that is Sweetest, like a Banquet; | |
But because Honour and Honesty would Exclame against me, for preferring Profit | |
and Promotion before Them, therefore a Man ought to do his Endeavour in a Just | |
Cause, for Honour and Honestie's sake, although he were sure to lose his | |
Liberty, Estate or Life. But leaving War, Loss, Disfavour and Preferment to | |
Worthy Persons, and Unjust States and Princes, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XLVII. | |
MADAM, | |
THE other day the Lady S. M. was to Visit me, and I gave her Joy, she said she | |
should have Joy indeed if it were a Son, I said, I bid her Joy of her Marriage, | |
for I had not seen her since she was a Wife, and had been Married, which was | |
some four Weeks ago, wherefore I did not know she was with Child; but she | |
rasping wind out of her Stomach, as Childing-VVomen usually do, making Sickly | |
Faces to express a Sickly Stomach, and fetching her Breath short, and bearing | |
out her Body, drawing her Neck downward, and standing in a weak and faint | |
Posture, as great bellied VVives do, bearing a heavy Burden in them, told me | |
she had been with Child a fortnight, though by her behaviour one would not have | |
thought she had above a VVeek to go, or to reckon; But she is so pleased with | |
the Belief she is with Child (for I think she cannot perfectly Know her self, | |
at most it is but breeding Child) as she Makes or Believes her self Bigger than | |
she Appears, and says, she Longs for every Meat that is Difficult to be gotten, | |
and Eats and Drinks from Morning till Night, with very little intermission, and | |
sometimes in the Night; whereupon I told her, if she did so, I believed she | |
would be bigger Bellied and greater Bodied, whether she were with Child or not; | |
besides Eating so much would make her Sick, if she were not with Child; she | |
answered, that Women with Child might Eat Any thing, and as Much as they would | |
or could, and it would do them no Harm. But I have observed, that generally | |
Women take more Pleasure when they are with Child, than when they are not with | |
Child, not only in Eating more, and Feeding more Luxuriously, but taking a | |
Pride in their great Bellies, although it be a Natural Effect of a Natural | |
Cause; for like as Women take a greater Pride in their Beauty, than Pleasure | |
or Content in their Virtue, so they take more Pride in Being with Child, than | |
in Having a Child, for when they are brought to Bed, and up from their Lying | |
in, they seem nothing so well Pleased, nor so Proud, as when they were great | |
with Child; and to prove they are Prouder, and take more Pleasure in Being with | |
Child, and in Lying in, than in Having a Child, is their Care, Pains, and Cost, | |
in Getting, Making, and Buying Fine and Costly Childbed-Linnen, | |
Swadling-Cloths, Mantles, and the like; as also fine Beds, Cradles, Baskets, | |
and other Furniture for their Chambers, as Hangings, Cabinets, Plates, | |
Artificial Flowers, Looking-glasses, Screens, and many such like things of | |
great Cost and Charge, besides their Banquets of Sweet-meats and other Junkets, | |
as Cakes, Wafers, Biscuits, Jellies, and the like, as also such strong Drinks, | |
as methinks the very Smell should put a Childbed-Wife into a Fever, as | |
Hippocras and Burnt-Wine, with Hot Spices, Mulled Sack, Strong and | |
High-colour'd Ale, well Spiced, and Stuffd with Tosts of Cake, and the like, | |
all which is more chargeable than to bring up a Child when it is Born; nay, | |
they will rather want Portions for their Children, when they are grown to be | |
Men or Women, or want sufficiency of Means to pay for their Learning and | |
Education, than want these Extravagancies of Luxury and Vanity at their Birth; | |
and their Children being Christ'ned, are like some Brides and Bridegrooms, that | |
are so Fine on their Wedding-day, as they are forced to go in Rags all their | |
lives after, which methinks is very strange, that for the Vanity and Show of | |
one day, they will spend so much as to be Beggars all their lives after; But as | |
I said, this Proves that Women take a greater Pride and Pleasure in Being with | |
Child, than in Having Children well Bred, and well-Bestow'd or Maintained, when | |
grown to Years; and that which makes me wonder more, is, that Wise Men will | |
suffer their Foolish Wives to be so Foolishly and Imprudently Expensive, | |
wherefore such men are worthy to be Impoverished, that will suffer their wives | |
to be so Vain, for it shows them to be better Husbands than Fathers, Kinder to | |
their VVives than Careful of their Children, also it shows them Fonder Husbands | |
than Loving Children, because they Ruin their Fore-fathers Posterity, by | |
Impoverishing their own Succession, and that only to Please their Wives | |
Humours, and to Expend for their Wives Vanities. But leaving the Lady S. M. to | |
her Breeding Pride or Pride of Breeding, to her Sick Pleasure or Pleasurable | |
Sickness, to her Luxurious Feeding, and Vain Providing, and wishing her a good | |
Gossiping, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XLVIII. | |
MADAM, | |
IT requires Experience, Skill, and Practice, for Men, Civilly, yet Courtly, to | |
Entertain and Accompany Women in Visiting, or the like; they must sit within a | |
Respectful Distance, with their Hats off, and Begin a Discourse, but let the | |
Woman Follow it, which they will do until they are out of Breath; also they | |
must not Interrupt them in their Talk, but let them Speak as Much, or as Long | |
as they will, or rather Can, for our Will to Talk is beyond our Power, but | |
though we want not Words, yet we want Understanding and Knowledge to Talk | |
Perpetually; Neither must Men Contradict Women, although they should Talk | |
Nonsense, which oftentimes they do, but must seem to Applaud and Approve, with | |
gentle Nods and Bows, all they say; also they must View their Faces with | |
Admiring Eyes, although they were Ill-favour'd, but those that are Beautiful, | |
their Eyes must be Fixed on them, or else seem to be Dazzled; likewise they must | |
seem to Start at their Calls, and Run with an affrighted hast, to Obey their | |
Commands. Such, and many the like Ceremonies and Fooleries there are of this | |
kind from Men to Women, but these are rather from Strangers than Domestic | |
Acquaintance. Wherefore setting aside antic Follies, yet a Civil Respect and | |
Regard is due to the Female Sex from the Masculine, even from the Greatest to | |
the Meanest; and so leaving Men to their Constrained Civilities and Feigned | |
Admirations, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XLIX. | |
MADAM, | |
I Do not wonder that C. R. will not trust E. D. in any business of great | |
Concernment, although an Able man to manage great Affairs, by reason he hath | |
been False, although he seems now Faithful and True; but Wise men are as | |
Jealous of those men that have been Dishonest in the matter of Trust, as of | |
those women that have been Dishonest in the matter of Love; for though they may | |
be true Converts, yet those that are Wary will fear they do but Dissemble, for | |
those that are Evil do not so Easily nor Suddenly turn to Good, as those that | |
are Good are Apt to turn to Evil, for though Repentance doth cast forth the | |
flowing part of Evil, yet many times there are Dregs, which lie lurking in the | |
Mind or Soul, which in time, with the help of Opportunity and Advancement, may | |
Increase again into their former Evil Condition; and Wise men know that there | |
is less Danger in trusting an Honest Fool than a Subtle Knave; the truth is, it | |
is pity that Honesty and Ingenuity or Ability should not Inhabit together, | |
for, for the most part they live asunder, as Ability and Ingenuity with | |
Dishonesty, which Empowers and Enables such men to do the greater Mischiefs, | |
for Subtle Wit and great Knavery take delight to do what is Worst, and | |
Fortune many times favours them Best, and the Actors Glory most in their | |
Wicked Deeds; But leaving C. R. to his Wisdom, and E. D. to Truth or | |
Dissembling, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
L. | |
MADAM, | |
I Cannot wonder that Mrs. F. G. is so desirous of a Husband, for I observe, | |
that all Unmarried Women, both Maids and VVidows, are the like, insomuch that | |
there are more Customers that go to Hymen's Markets, which are Churches, | |
Plays, Balls, Masks, Marriages, c. than there are Husbands to be Sold, and all | |
Prices are bidden there, as Beauty, Birth, Breeding, Wit and Virtue, though | |
Virtue is a Coin whereof is not much; but Husbands are so scarce, especially | |
Good ones, as they are at such great Rates, that an indifferent Price will not | |
Purchase any one, wherefore those that will Buy them, must be so Rich as to be | |
able to bestow an extraordinary Price of Beauty, Birth, Breeding, Wit or | |
Virtue, and yet much ado to Purchase any one, nay, some cannot be had without | |
all those joined into One; But Venus's Markets, which are also Public | |
Meetings, (for all Markets are Public) are so well stored of all sorts and | |
degrees of Titles, Professions, Ages, and the like, as they are as Cheap as | |
stinking Makrel, and all Coins are current there, but Virtue, wherefore that is | |
never offered; 'tis true, the Markets of Hymen and Venus are in one and the | |
same City or Place, yet Hymen and Venus Sell apart, like as several Graziers | |
bring their Beasts to one Market or Fair; I call them several Markets, to make | |
a Distinction of which belongs to Hymen, and which to Venus; but for better | |
Distinction's sake, I will put them into Shops apart, or into as many Pews in | |
one Church, or Compare them to several Scenes in one Mask, several Acts in one | |
Play, for as many Stalls or Shops there are in one Market, and several | |
Magistrates in one City, so many Shops hath Hymen and Venus in one Market; but | |
the Cheapest that are to be sold out of Hymen's Shops, are young Novices; and | |
although there is much scarcity in Hymen's Shops, yet the Price of Gold or such | |
Riches, if they be offered, buys any man that is there to be sold, which are | |
Batchelours and Widowers, for there's no Married man in Hymen's Shops, unless | |
unknown that they were bought before, and once Discovered, they are Punished, | |
for Married men can neither be Bought nor Sold by Hymen or his Customers, until | |
they be Widowers; but in Venus Shops there be as many, if not more, Married men | |
than Batchelours or Widowers; but both in Hymen's and Venus's Shops there are | |
of all sorts, Better and Worse, as Mean Persons and others of Quality, Handsome | |
and not Handsome, Old and Young, and of middle Years; And as for Women, few are | |
Sold in Shops, for they are the Buyers, and Married Women are the best | |
Customers Venus hath; though Married Women go to the Public Market, which are | |
Public Meetings, as Fine as they can be Dressed, and to the Public View, out of | |
pretence to meet there, and speak with such of their Friends that are Hymen's | |
Customers, as also to help those Friends to Choose and Bargain for a Husband, | |
or to keep them Company, yet when they go to Venus's Shops they go Covered with | |
their Veils, or rather Follies, for fear they should be known of their Husbands | |
that lye there to be sold, for though they go Uncovered to Hymen's Shops, as | |
with their Friends, to Assist them, yet to Venus's Shops they go alone. Thus | |
Married and Unmarried take some occasion to be at the Market, and thus there is | |
more Trade, Traffic and Commerce, in this Market than in any other; But such | |
Persons as will live Single and Chaste, never come there, unless some few; and | |
this sort of Persons for the most part live in Diana's Court, which are | |
Cloisters or Monasteries; also some few Married Wives that live Retired, do not | |
Frequent this Market, but if they do, they never come into any of the Shops, | |
but stand in the midst of the Market-place, that it may be known they Buy | |
nothing there; But Madam, I will leave this Discourse, for though I am one of | |
Hymen's Subjects, being a Married Wife, yet I am none of Venus's Customers, | |
but, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LI. | |
MADAM, | |
YEsterday Mrs. P. I. was to Visit me, who prayed me to present her Humble | |
Service to you, but since you saw her she is become an Alt'red Woman, as being | |
a Sanctified Soul, a Spiritual Sister, she hath left Curling her Hair, Black | |
Patches are become Abominable to her, Laced Shoes and Galoshoes are Steps to | |
Pride, to go Bare-neck'd she accounts worse than Adultery; Fans, Ribbons, | |
Pendants, Neckcloths, and the like, are the Temptations of Satan, and the | |
Signs of Damnation; and she is not only Transformed in her Dress, but her Garb | |
and Speech, and all her Discourse, insomuch as you would not know her if you | |
saw her, unless you were informed who she was; She Speaks of nothing but Heaven | |
and Purification, and after some Discourse, she asked me, what Posture I | |
thought was the best to be used in Prayer? I said, I thought no Posture was | |
more becoming, nor did fit Devotion better, than Kneeling, for that Posture did | |
in a manner Acknowledge from Whence we came, and to What we shall return, for | |
the Scripture says, from Earth we came, and to Earth we shall return; then she | |
spoke of Prayers, for she is all for Extemporary Prayers, I told her, that the | |
more Words we used in Prayer, the Worse they were Accepted, for I thought a | |
Silent Adoration was better Accepted of God, than a Self-conceited Babbling; | |
Then she asked me, if I thought one might not be Refined, by Tempering their | |
Passions and Appetites, or by Banishing the Worst of them from the Soul and | |
Body, to that Degree, as to be a Deity, or so Divine, as to be above the Nature | |
of Man; I said no, for put the case Men could turn Brass or Iron, or such gross | |
Metals, into Gold, and Refine that Gold into its height of Purity, yet it would | |
be but a Metal still; so likewise the most Refined Man would be but Human | |
still, he would be still a Man, and not a God; nay, take the Best of Godly Men, | |
such as have been Refined by Grace, Prayer and Fasting, to a degree of Saints, | |
yet they were but Human and Men still, so long as the Body and Soul were joined | |
together, but when they were Separated, what the Soul would be, whether a God, | |
a Devil, a Spirit, or Nothing, I could not tell; with that she Lifted up her | |
Eyes, and Departed from me, Believing I was one of the Wicked and Reprobate, | |
not capable of a Saving Grace, so as I believe she will not come near me again, | |
lest her Purity should be Defiled in my Company, I believe the next news we | |
shall hear of her, will be, that she is become a Preaching Sister; I know not | |
what Oratory the Spirit will Inspire her with, otherwise I believe she will | |
make no Eloquent Sermons, but I think those of her Calling do defy Eloquence, | |
for the more Non-sense they Deliver, the more they are Admired by their Godly | |
Fraternity. But leaving her to her Self-denying, I return to Acknowledge my | |
self, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Do not wonder that there are Pimps or Bawds, for Base Vices and Wicked | |
Baseness are too Frequent in this Age, to be Wondered at, and certainly the | |
like is in every Age, for the Composition of Mankind is not so Pure, but there | |
are both Scum and Dregs, the which are for the most part the Inferior sort of | |
People, but which I wonder at, is, that the Lord P. B. should be a Pimp, and | |
the Lady B. B. a Bawd, Persons of such Quality, where it was more likely that | |
some Inferior Persons should Pimp and Bawd for Them, that they should be so | |
Low, as to Pimp and Bawd for Others; But perchance some can tell, that they do | |
make use of such Inferior Persons for their Own turn, as they are for the turn | |
of Others; howsoever the Actions of this Lord and Lady show, that their Births | |
were better than their Breeding, or that Fortune hath Favoured them more with | |
Titles, than Nature hath Endued them with Noble Dispositions; and thus having | |
more Honour from Fortune than Nature, more Antiquity by Birth than Virtue by | |
Breeding, 'tis the Cause that the Practice of their Lives is not answerable to | |
the Degree of their Dignities; but for the most part such Base Actions are | |
produced either out of Extreme Poverty, or Covetousness of Presents, or | |
Ambition of Preferments, for Bauding and Pimping is seldom done Gratis; But | |
those that are truly Noble, that is, have Noble Souls and Honourable Natures, | |
can never be Forced, Persuaded, or Enticed to do a Base Action, insomuch as | |
they will rather choose to do a more Wicked Action (as we hold it) which is not | |
mixed with Baseness, as Heroically to Kill themselves, than Basely Betray | |
Chastity, and Beastly Procure Wanton Amours, for where Honour and Virtue takes | |
a thorough Possession, they never leave their Habitation, no more than my | |
Friendship with your Ladyship, for I am, and will ever be, | |
Madam, Your Ladyships faithful Friend, and humble Servant. | |
LIII. | |
MADAM, | |
MRs. W. S. doth not Approve of Sir C. R. she absolutely Refuses him for a | |
Husband, she says he is Effeminate, and she Hates an Effeminate Man, as Nature | |
Abhors Vacuity; she says, she had rather have a Debauched Man for a Husband, | |
by reason Debauchery had some Courage, although the worst part of Courage, for | |
it durst Encounter Fevers, Gouts, Stone, Pox, and many the like Diseases, not | |
but that Effeminacy and Debauchery are sometimes joined in one Person, but not | |
commonly; but, she says, she will never Marry, unless she may have a Valiant, | |
Wise man, such a man that will not Rashly or Foolishly Quarrel, but Warily and | |
Resolutely Fight, that doth not only measure his Sword, but his Quarrel, by | |
the Length and Breadth of Honour, a man that is not outwardly Formal, but | |
inwardly Rational, that weighs not his Words by the Number, but by the Sense, | |
whose Actions are Levelled by the Rule of Honesty and Prudence; such a Man she | |
will have for a Husband. The Lady P. E. hearing her, said, she could help her | |
to an Husband that had the Reputation of Valour and Wisdom, but he was Severe; | |
Mrs. W. S. said, she had rather a Severe Wise man, than a Facil Fool; but said | |
the Lady P. E. if you have this man, he will keep you strictly to a Wife's | |
Obedience; she said, she was Content, were he never so Severe, nay, did his | |
Severity extend to the Verge of Cruelty, for she had rather be Beaten by a Wise | |
man, than Kissed by a Fool; But leaving her at this time without a Husband's | |
Kisses or Blows, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LIV. | |
MADAM, | |
THE other day the Lady D. C. and the Lady G. B. came to Visit me, and being | |
both met together, as Visitants, they fell into a Discourse of History, and so | |
of former Times, and Persons of both Sexes, at last they fell into a Discourse | |
of Married Wives, giving their Opinions of Good and Bad Wives that had lived in | |
former Ages, and the Lady D. C. said, that Lucretia was the Best Wife that ever | |
History mentioned, in that she Killed her self to save her Husbands Honour, | |
being a Dishonour for a Husband to have an Abused, as a Ravished Wife, for | |
though her Husband was not a Cuckold through her free Consent, yet was he a | |
Cuckold through her Enforcement, which was a Dishonour in the second Degree; | |
The Lady G. B. said, that though she did believe Lucretia was a very Chaste | |
Woman, and a Virtuous and Loving Wife, yet whether she Killed her self to save | |
her Husbands Honour of her Own, she could not Judge, unless she had the Effect | |
of a God, to know the Minds and Thoughts of human Creatures, for perchance | |
Lucretia might know, or verily believe, that when her Husband should come to | |
know the dishonourable Abuse that was done unto her, he would have Killed her | |
himself, not so much through a Jealous mistrust of her, but for the Dishonour | |
or Disgrace of the Abuse, and if so, then the Cause of Lucretia's Killing her | |
self, was as much through Prudence Wisdom as through Virtue, for in Killing her | |
self she gained an Immortal Fame, for Dying by her Own hand she seemed | |
Innocent, whereas, had she Dyed by her Husband's hand or command, the World | |
being Censorious, would have thought her a Criminal; wherefore, since Lucretia | |
must Dye, she chose the best way, to Dye by her own voluntary Act, but had | |
Lucretia been Unmarried, said she, and had been so Abused, she had been a Fool | |
to have Killed her self, before she had endeavoured to have Killed her Abuser, | |
for it would be more Justice to have Killed the Murderer of her Honour, than to | |
have Murdered her Innocent Self, only the Revenge ought in Honour to have been | |
Executed in some Public Place and Assembly, and then the Private Abuse | |
Declared, if it had not been Known already: But these two Ladies arguing | |
whether Lucretia Killed her self for her Husband's Honour of for her Own, at | |
last grew so Earnest in their Discourse, as they fell to Quarrel with each | |
other, in such a Fury they were, as they were ready to Beat one another, nay, I | |
was afraid they would have Killed each other, and for fear of that Mischief, I | |
was forced to be a Defender of both, standing between them, and making Orations | |
to the one and then to the other; at last I entreated them to Temper their | |
Passions, and to Allay their Anger; and give me leave Ladies, said I, to ask | |
you what Lucretia was to either of you? was she of your Acquaintance or | |
Kindred, or Friend, or Neighbour, or Nation? and if she was none of these, as | |
it was very probable she was not, Living and Dying in an Age so long before | |
this, nay, so long, as the Truth might Rationally be questioned, if not of the | |
Person, yet of the Manner of the Action, for perchance the clear Truth was | |
never Recorded, Falsehood having been written in Histories of much later Times | |
than that of Lucretia; therefore Allay your Passions, for why should you two | |
Ladies fall out, and become Enemies for Lucretia's sake, whom you never knew or | |
heard of, but as in an old Wife's Tale, which is an old History. But howsoever, | |
Good Ladies, said I, leave Lucretia to live and dye in History, and be you two | |
Friends in present Life, Abuse not your selves with Rage, concerning Tarquin's | |
Abusing Lucretia with Lust. Thus talking to them, at last I calmed their | |
Passions, and made them Friends again, but making Peace between them, I spent | |
more Breath and Spirits, than the Peace of two Foolish, at least, Choleric | |
Ladies was worth, for although there is an old Saying, Happy is the | |
Peace-maker, yet I am happy I am quit at this present of their Company, and | |
that I can subscribe my self, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LV. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased in your last Letter to tell me, that you had been in the | |
Country, and that you did almost Envy the Peasants for living so Merrily; it is | |
a sign, Madam, they live Happily, for Mirth seldom dwells with Troubles and | |
Discontents, neither doth Riches nor Grandeur live so Easily, as that | |
Unconcerned Freedom that is in Low and Mean Fortunes and Persons, for the | |
Ceremony of Grandeur is Constrained and bound with Forms and Rules, and a great | |
Estate and high Fortune is not so easily managed as a Less, a Little is easily | |
ordered, where Much doth require Time, Care, Wisdom and Study as | |
Considerations; but Poor, Mean Peasants that live by their Labour, are for the | |
most part Happier and Pleasanter than great Rich Persons, that live in Luxury | |
and Idleness, for Idle Time is Tedious, and Luxury is Unwholesome, whereas Labour | |
is Healthful and Recreative, and surely Country Huswives take more Pleasure in | |
Milking their Cows, making their Butter and Cheese, and feeding their Poultry, | |
than great Ladies do in Painting, Curling, and Adorning themselves, also they | |
have more Quiet Peaceable Minds and Thoughts, for they never, or seldom, look | |
in a Glass to view their Faces, they regard not their Complexions, nor observe | |
their Decays, they Defy Time's Ruins of their Beauties, they are not Peevish | |
and Froward if they look not as Well one day as another, a Pimple or Spot in | |
their Skin Tortures not their Minds, they fear not the Sun's Heat, but Out-face | |
the Sun's Power, they break not their Sleeps to think of Fashions, but Work | |
Hard to Sleep Soundly, they lie not in Sweats to clear their Complexions, but | |
rise to Sweat to get them Food, their Appetites are not Queazie with Surfeits, | |
but Sharp'ned with Fasting, they relish with more Savour their Ordinary Course | |
Fare, than those who are Pampered do their Delicious Rarities; and for their | |
Mirth and Pastimes, they take more Delight and true Pleasure, and are more | |
Inwardly Pleased and Outwardly Merry at their Wakes, than the great Ladies at | |
their Balls, and though they Dance not with such Art and Measure, yet they | |
Dance with more Pleasure and Delight, they cast not Envious, Spiteful Eyes at | |
each other, but meet Friendly and Lovingly. But great Ladies at Public | |
Meetings take not such true Pleasures, for their Envy at each others Beauty and | |
Bravery Disturbs their Pastimes, and Obstructs their Mirth, they rather grow | |
Peevish and Froward through Envy, than Loving and Kind through Society, so that | |
whereas the Country Peasants meet with such Kind Hearts and Unconcerned | |
Freedom as they Unite in Friendly Jollity, and Depart with Neighbourly Love, | |
the Greater sort of Persons meet with Constrained Ceremony, Converse with | |
Formality, and for the most part Depart with Enmity; and this is not only | |
amongst Women, but amongst Men, for there is amongst the Better sort a greater | |
Strife for Bravery than for Courtesy, for Place than Friendship, and in their | |
Societies there is more Vain-glory than Pleasure, more Pride than Mirth, and | |
more Vanity than true Content; yet in one thing the Better Sort of Men, as the | |
Nobles and Gentry, are to be Commended, which is, that though they are oftener | |
Drunken and more Debauched than Peasants, having more Means to maintain their | |
Debaucheries, yet at such times as at great Assemblies, they keep themselves | |
more Sober and Temperate than Peasants do, which are for the most part Drunk at | |
their Departing; But to Judge between the Peasantry and Nobles for Happiness, I | |
believe where there's One Noble that is truly Happy, there are a Hundred | |
Peasants; not that there be More Peasants than Nobles, but that they are More | |
Happy, number for number, as having not the Envy, Ambition, Pride, Vain-glory, | |
to Cross, Trouble, Vex them, as Nobles have; when I say Nobles, I mean those | |
that have been Ennobled by Time as well as Title, as the Gentry. But, Madam, I | |
am not a fit Judge for the several Sorts or Degrees, or Courses of Lives, or | |
Actions of Mankind, as to Judge which is Happiest, for Happiness lives not in | |
Outward Show or Concourse, but Inwardly in the Mind, and the Minds of Men are | |
too Obscure to be Known, and too Various and Inconstant to Fix a Belief in | |
them, and since we cannot Know our Selves, how should we know Others? Besides, | |
Pleasure and true Delight lives in every ones own Delectation; but let me tell | |
you, my Delectation is, to prove my self, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
LVI. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you writ how much the Lord N. O. doth Admire Mrs. B. U. | |
and what Addresses he makes to her, for he being in Years hath seen much of the | |
World, and many and Different Beauties, and hath Conversed with many and | |
Different Wits, and hath found and observed many and Different Humours, and | |
hath made many and Different Courtships to many and Different Women: yet I have | |
observed that men in Years would seem Lovers and Admirers, but are not; and | |
Young men are Lovers and Admirers, and would not seem so; Men in Years Praise | |
all the Young Women they meet withal, but think not of them when they are out | |
of their Companies, but Young men Praise some Particulars, and when Absent, are | |
more Fond and Deeper in Love than when they are personally Present; and it is | |
to be observed, that the chiefest Employment of the most part of Men is to make | |
Love, not that they are Really in Love, but Feignedly make themselves so, and | |
Amorous Courtships are the most general Actions in the World, and the most | |
general Employments of the Thoughts in men's Minds; and the same is also amongst | |
Women; so that most of mankind are Amorous Lovers, for Love is the Subject of | |
their Thoughts, Courtly Addresses the Action of their Time, the Chief Business | |
of their Lives; but if it were a Noble Love, it were Commendable, for then | |
their Time, Industry, and Actions of their Lives would be Employed in Acts of | |
Charity, Friendship, Humanity, Magnificence, Generosity, and the like, but | |
being Amorous Lovers, their Time is Idly Wasted in Adorning, Fashioning, | |
Flattering, Protesting and Forswearing; besides, Amorous Lovers are Inconstant, | |
Prodigal, Fantastical, and the like. But leaving them to their Complemental | |
Addresses, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LVII. | |
MADAM, | |
HEre is no News, only I read a Gazet that speaks of a Courtesan, which hath | |
been the Ruin of many Gentlemen's and Noble Men's Estates, by presenting her | |
with Rich Gifts, and maintaining her in Bravery, and 'tis likely she hath | |
Ruined their Bodies, if not their Souls, as she hath done their Estates; yet it | |
is to be hoped, that all is not Truth that is Printed in a Gazet, for it is to | |
be observed, that Gazets are fuller of Lies than Truths, which makes some | |
Histories that are lately Printed and Published, to have so many Falsehoods in | |
them, being for the most part Compiled and Formed out of Gazets; But if this | |
part of the Gazet be true, as concerning the Courtesan, it shows that she hath | |
a Superior Art of Allurements, not only to ensnare one or two, but many, | |
which Art hath a Magic Power to Transform Rational Men to Beastly Adulterers, | |
Simple Asses, and Prodigal Fools; for certainly it cannot be merely Beauty | |
alone that can have such Power, for mere Beauty takes oftener the Eye than the | |
Heart, it hath more Admirers than Doting Lovers, and the greatest Gift Beauty | |
hath given, are Praises, which Praises last not Long, by reason Beauty soon | |
Decays; But when Beauty is attended with Insinuating Arts, as Behaviour of | |
Person, Pleasant Speech, and Harmonious Voice, as also the Arts of Music, | |
Dancing, Dressing, and the like, it becomes Victorious, and makes its Triumphs | |
in many Hearts, like as in many Nations; But many times those Arts are | |
Victorious without Beauty, whereas Beauty is seldom or never Victorious without | |
them; Indeed Women Skilful in these Arts are like Jugglers, which Deceive Sense | |
and Reason, making an Appearance of that which is not Really so; and thus most | |
of our Sex Juggle with Men, they Delude them with Artificial Shows and | |
Insinuating Flattery, and 'tis their chief Study and Endeavour so to do; But | |
few Arrive to that Artificial Perfection, as the Courtesan mentioned in the | |
Gazet; wherefore it would be well if Wives had more of that Art to keep their | |
Husband's Affections, or at least to keep them from seeking after Variety; and | |
for Courtesans to have less, that they might not Draw and Entice Husbands from | |
their Honest Wives, nor Bachelors and Widowers from lawful Marriage: But for | |
the most part Courtesans with their Arts Usurp the Wives Rights and Maids | |
hopes; and so leaving the famous Courtesan to her Lovers, and her Lovers to | |
their Ruins, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LVIII. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you sent me word, you were not of my Opinion, that all men | |
ought to wear their Swords at all Times, and in all Places and Companies, for | |
you say it is not fit that Drunkards, or Mad-men, or Lovers, should wear | |
Swords; for Drunkards will use their Swords to the hurt of Others, by reason | |
they are Quarrelsome and Abusive; and Mad-men will use their Swords to the hurt | |
of Themselves, either through a Frantic Despair or Conceit; and Lovers will | |
Affright their Mistresses with them. Madam, you have forgotten two or three | |
Words added thereto, for I said, that all Gallant Gentlemen ought to wear | |
Swords, at all Times, and in all Places and Companies; but Drunkards and | |
Mad-men, though they may be Gentlemen, yet they cannot be said Gallant men | |
whilst they are Mad or Drunken, because they want their Reason to Distinguish, | |
for the Gallantry of the Mind or Soul is Valour, Generosity, Humanity, Justice, | |
Fidelity, and the like, all which cannot be, at least, not in force in | |
Irrational Creatures, which Mad-men and Drunkards are for that time. And for | |
Lovers, it is very Requisite they should wear Swords to guard their Mistresses, | |
for she is but a Foolish Mistress that will be afraid of her Safety; But a | |
Gallant man wears his Sword for his Honour, King, and Country; as for his | |
Country, it includes Piety, Friendship, and Natural Affection; for his King, it | |
includes Fidelity and Loyalty; for his Honour, it includes Truth, Right, Love, | |
Generosity and Humanity. In truth, Generosity and Humanity is like the Sun and | |
the Air, for Humanity doth like the Air spread equally to all, it enters every | |
where, and fills up all Vacuities; and Generosity like the Sun, shines every | |
where, and on every Creature, although not at one Time, yet in such a Compass | |
of Time as it hath strength and motion to extend it self; also his Benefits are | |
General, he Disputes not Who or What deserves his Light or Heat, but knows his | |
Light and Heat is Beneficial to all Creatures, which if they Abuse to Evil | |
Uses, it is none of his Fault. Thus Generosity shines in the Air of Humanity, | |
and Fortitude is like Heaven, which no Enemy can Enter, it Defends and Guards | |
the Distressed; and Valour is the Sword of Justice, to Cut off Offenders, and | |
the Sword of Valour is a sharp mettled Blade, that Gallant Gentlemen should | |
always wear about them, and have Skill to Manage it, and Judgment and | |
Discretion to know When, and on Whom to Use it. But, Madam, lest the mentioning | |
of a Sword should Fright you, I'll leave it, and rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LIX. | |
MADAM, | |
AS for the Lady P. Y. who, you say, spends most of her Time in Prayer, I can | |
hardly believe God can be Pleased with so many Words, for what shall we need to | |
Speak so many Words to God, who knows our Thoughts, Minds and Souls better than | |
we our selves? Christ did not teach us Long Prayers, but a Short One, nay if it | |
were lawful for Men to Similize God to his Creatures, (which I think it is not) | |
God might be Tired with Long and Tedious Petitions or often Repetitions; but, | |
Madam, Good Deeds are Better than Good Words, in so much, as One Good Deed is | |
better than a Thousand Good Words, As for Example, One Act of Upright Justice, | |
or Pure Charity, is better than a Book full of Prayers, a Temperate Life is | |
better many times than a Praying Life; for we may be Intemperate even in our | |
Prayers, as to be Superstitious or Idolatrous; Indeed every Good Deed is a | |
Prayer, for we do Good for Gods sake, as being pleasing to him, for a Chaste, | |
Honest, Just, Charitable, Temperate Life is a Devout Life, and Worldly labour | |
is Devout, as to be Honestly Industrious to Get, and Prudent to Thrive, that | |
one may have where with all to Give; for there is no Poor Beggar, but had | |
rather a Penny than a Blessing, for they will tell you, that they shall Starve | |
with Dieu vous assist, but be Relieved with a Denar. Wherefore the Lady P. Y. | |
with her much Fasting and long Praying will Starve her Self, and Waste her Life | |
out before the Natural Time, which will be a Kind of Self-murder, and we hold | |
Self-murder the Greatest Sin, although it should be done in a Pious Form or | |
Manner; but to Help a Friend in Distress is Better and more Acceptable, than to | |
Pray for a Friend in Distress, to Relieve a Beggar in Want, is better than to | |
Pray for him, to Attend the Sick is better than to Pray for the Sick; But you | |
will say, both do Well, I say it is Well Said, and Well when it is Done, but | |
the One must not Hinder the Other, wherefore we ought not to Leave the World to | |
Pray, but to Live in the World to Act, as to Act to Good Uses, and 'tis not | |
enough to Give for the Poor, but to see that the Poor be not Cousen'd of their | |
Gifts, wherefore they ought to Distribute their Gifts Themselves, and to be | |
Industrious to Know and to Find out those that do Truly and not Feignedly Want, | |
neither must their Gifts make the Poor Idle, but set the Idle Poor awork, and | |
as for those that cannot Work or Help themselves, as the Old, Sick, Decrepit, | |
and Children, they must be Maintained by those that have Means and Strength and | |
Health to Attend them; But perchance if the Lady P. Y. heard me, she would say, | |
I were one of those that did Speak more Good Words, than Act Good Deeds, or | |
that I neither Spent my Time in Praying nor Pious Acting; Indeed I cannot, as | |
the Proud Pharisee, Brag and Boast of my Good Deeds, but with the Poor | |
Publican, I must say, Lord have Mercy on me, a miserable Sinner, yet I must say | |
thus much Truth of my Self, that I never had Much to Give; for before the | |
VVarrs of this Country I was too Young to be Rich, or to have Means in my Own | |
Power of Disposing, and since the VVarrs all my Friends being so Ruined, and my | |
Husband Banished from his Native Country, and Dispossessed of his Inherited | |
Estate, I have been in a Condition rather to Receive, than to Give: Yet I have | |
not done much of either, for truly I am as Glad not to Receive, as Sorry not to | |
Give, for Obligation is as great a Burden to me, as not be Able to Oblige is an | |
Unhappiness, not that I account it so great an Unhappiness to be in such a | |
Condition, as to be fit to Receive, but to Receive in such a Condition, as not | |
to be Able to return the Obligation, for the Truth is, I had rather Suffer for | |
Want, than Take to be Relieved; But I thank God, I have not had many of those | |
Burdens of Obligations, some few I have had, but those were from my near | |
Relative Friends, not from Strangers, which is a Double, nay, a Treble | |
Blessing; but my Condition is fitter for Prayer, as having not sufficient Means | |
to do Good Works, my Husband being Robbed of all his Estate, than the Lady P. | |
Is. who hath Saved all she can lay Claim to; Wherefore leaving her to her | |
Prayers of Thanksgiving, and I to Prayers of Petitioning, I rest, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LX. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am sorry to hear there is such a Difference betwixt the Lady F. O. and her | |
Husband, as they are upon Parting, I wish their Humours and Dispositions were | |
more Agreeable, and their Froward Passions less Violent; I cannot Condemn | |
Either, nor Excuse Both, for if they Anger each Other, they have Both cause to | |
be Angry, and are Both to be Blamed for so Doing, and so Both together they | |
ought to be Condemned, but Each apart to be Excused: But Marriage is a very | |
Unhappy Life when Sympathy Joins not the Married Couple, for otherwise it were | |
better to be Barred up within the Gates of a Monastery, than to be Bound in the | |
Bonds of Matrimony; but whenas Sympathy Joins Souls and Bodies in Marriage, | |
then those Bonds are like Diamond-Chains to Adorn, not to Enslave them, and | |
Heroic Honour and Chastity are the two Thrones whereon a Married Couple is | |
Placed, Heroic Honour is the Throne of the Husband, and Chastity the Throne of | |
the Wife, on which Love Crowns their Lives with Peace, and Inrobes or Inclothes | |
them with Happiness, which Happiness you Enjoy, which is also the Joy, | |
Madam, Of Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am sorry to hear you have lost so Good a Servant as E. L. was, for she was | |
Faithful, Trusty, Loving, Humble, Obedient, Industrious, Thrifty, and Quiet, | |
Harmlesly Merry and Free, yet full of Respect and Duty, which Few Servants are | |
in this Age, for most are Idle, Cousening, Wastful, Crafty, Bold, Rude, | |
Murmuring, Factious and Treacherous, and what not that is Evil? But truly, | |
Madam, the Fault ought to be laid on the Masters and Mistresses, who either | |
give their Servants ill Examples by their Evil or Idle Life, or through a | |
Creduluos Trust, which is a Temptation to a Poor Servant, and it is a part of | |
our Prayer, Lead us not into Temptation; or through a Neglect of Governing, for | |
there is an old true Saying, The Masters Eye makes the Horse Fat; or through a | |
Timorous Fear of Commanding, for many Masters are Afraid to Command a | |
Peremptory Servant, being more in Awe of the Servant than the Servant of the | |
Master; or through much Clemency, giving their Servants their Wills so much as | |
they neglect their Duties; or through their Prodigality, when to Enrich their | |
Servants they make themselves Poor, so as the Servant becomes Greater than the | |
Master, which makes them so Proud, that they Slight their Commands and Neglect | |
their Services, Forgetting who Advanced them, and are apt to Rebel against | |
them, just like the Devils, when they were Angels, who perceiving they were so | |
Glorious Creatures, Rebelled against their Creator, and would be as God | |
himself; Just so are Poor Servants when their Master gives them fine Clothes to | |
Adorn them, or Money to Enrich them, or Offices to Advance them, they straight | |
would be their Masters, nay, they will Envy their Master if they see him have | |
any thing Better than they. This I have Known by Experience, but They will not | |
Know it, until they become to be like Devils, that is, in a miserable | |
Condition, which they deserve for their Ingratitude; but a Good Servant is a | |
Treasure, says Solomon; and so I think is a Good Master to a Servant, if the | |
Servant have Wit to perceive it, But a Good Master is to know How to Command, | |
When to Command, and What to Command; also When to Bestow, What to Bestow, How | |
much to Bestow on a Good Servant; also to fit Servants to Employments, and | |
Employments to Servants; also to know How and When to Restrain them, and when | |
to give them Liberty; also to observe, which of his Servants be fit to be Ruled | |
with Austerity or Severity, and which with Clemency, and to Reward and Punish | |
them Properly, Timely and Justly; Likewise when to make them Work, and when to | |
let them Play or Sport; as also when to Keep them at a Distance, and when to | |
Associate Himself with them; And truly, I should sooner choose to Associate my | |
Self with the Company of my Servants, had they good Breeding, or were Capable | |
to Learn and Imitate what did belong to good Behaviour, than with Strangers, | |
for Good Servants are Friends as well as Servants, nay, Servants are a Guard to | |
their Masters, for Good Faithful Servants will Dye for the Safeguard of their | |
Masters Life, and they will endure any Torments rather than Betray their | |
Masters; and it is the Duty of Servants so to Do, for Servants ow almost as | |
much Duty to their Masters, as Children to their Parents, or Subjects to their | |
Natural Prince, for Servants are not only Governed, but Instructed, Fed, and | |
Maintained; and what greater Crime is there, than to be a Traitor to their | |
Governor, Tutor, and Nourisher of their Life? And every Master, the Meanest | |
that is, is a Father and a King in his own Family, Wherefore to my Reason they | |
are very unwise that will go out of their own Dominions, and leaving their own | |
Obedient Subjects, which are their Servants, Travel into other Kingdoms, which | |
are other Families, wherein they have neither Power nor Obedience, leaving | |
their own Servants without Rule or Guide, for when a Master is from Home, his | |
Family is like a Body without a Head, like as a King should Travel into Foreign | |
Countries, and leave his Subjects and Kingdom and State-Affairs at Random, or | |
to a Deputy, 'tis likely his Subjects would Rebel against him through Dislike | |
to the Deputy, as Scorning to be Ruled or Governed by a Fellow-Subject, or else | |
the Deputy will get away their Love from their Prince, and then will strive to | |
thrust the Right Owner out; The same is with a Master and his Servants; | |
wherefore a Wise, Loving Master will keep Home, and go no oftener Abroad than | |
Occasion requires, but will Entertain himself with his own Family, and his | |
Family will Entertain him with Sports and Pastimes, like as Subjects do their | |
Princes, and whenas a Servant doth Rebel, although the Master hath not Power | |
to Banish him the Country or Kingdom, as Princes have, yet hath he Power to | |
turn him out of his Service, and Banish him from his House, if his Fault do | |
deserve it; but some may think it strange, that there are as few Masters that | |
know how to Govern their Families Wisely, as there are Kings that know how to | |
Rule their Kingdoms Wisely; but that is no wonder, for first, where there is | |
One King of a Kingdom, there are Thousands Masters of Families, and a King is | |
the Master of all those Families, insomuch as a King hath more Masters to | |
Govern and Rule, than the Richest Master of his Kingdom hath Servants; but if | |
Servants were as they should be, Masters would not only Thrive by the Trusty | |
Labours of their Servants, and Servants by the Wealth of their Master, but | |
Masters and Servants would live Easily, by the Diligence of the One, and the | |
Prudence of the Other; also they would live Delightfully, by their Sports and | |
Pastimes, where the Master would sit as a Kingly Spectator, whilst his Servants | |
were Pleasant Actors, in all which both Masters and Servants would be very | |
Happy, so as this World would seem an Earthly Paradise. But, Madam, if I write | |
any more, I shall go near to make you a Servant to your Servant, in a Laborious | |
reading her Long Letter, but it was your Command in your last Letter, that I | |
should write you Long Letters, and I believe in this I have Fully Obeyed you, | |
which is my Desire to all your Commands, to let you Know that there is none | |
more Truly and Faithfully | |
Your Ladyships Servant than I. | |
LXII. | |
MADAM, | |
MRs. C. R. is very much troubled in her Mind with Doubts and Fears, since she | |
hath heard that the Lady S. P. did Publicly and Privately Praise her, for, she | |
says, she is afraid the Lady S. P. hath observed some Error in her Behaviour, | |
or hath heard her Speak Foolishly, or hath found out some Decays of Beauty in | |
her Face, or some Deformities in her Shape, or some of the Masculine Sex have | |
Dispraised her Beauty, Wit, Person, Behaviour, or the like, otherwise, says | |
she, she is Confident she would never have Praised her, for, says she, it is | |
so Unusual for one Woman to Praise another, as it seems Unnatural; wherefore | |
she doth not Delight to be Praised by her own Sex, and since that time she | |
received your last Letter, she will sit in a Silent Musing Posture, Considering | |
and Examining her self, as Searching to find out what Faults she hath, or what | |
Crimes she is Guilty of, that the Lady S. P. should Praise her, and so Peevish | |
and Froward she is for it, as I believe she will never be Quiet, or at Rest and | |
Peace in her Mind, until she hear that the Lady S. P. hath Spoken Spitefully of | |
her, or hath Dispraised her some ways or other. The Truth is, she doth Confess | |
as much, for she says, She shall never think her Self Handsome, Conversable, | |
nor Virtuous, but Ill-favoured, Foolish, Base, or Wicked, unless she be | |
Dispraised by her own Sex, wherefore if you Hear, as certainly you cannot choose | |
unless you will stop your Ears, any Female Discommendations concerning Mrs. C. | |
R. Pray send her Word of them, by which you will Infinitely Oblige her, and in | |
the mean time I shall Endeavour to Pacify her Thoughts, and Settle her Mind in | |
Peace and Quiet, Resting | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXIII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Have observed, there are amongst Mankind as often Mode Phrases in Speech, as | |
Mode Fashions in Clothes and Behaviour, and so Moded they are, as their | |
Discourse is as much Decked with those Phrases as their Clothes with several | |
Coloured Ribbands, or Hats with Feathers, or Bodies with Affected motions, and | |
whosoever doth Discourse out of the Mode, is as much Despised, as if their | |
Clothes or Behaviours were out of Fashion, they are accounted Fools or Ill-bred | |
Persons; indeed most Men and Women in this Age, in most Nations in Europe are | |
nothing but Mode, as mode-Minds, mode-Bodyes, mode-Appetites, mode-Behaviours, | |
mode-Cloaths, mode-Pastimes or Vices, mode-Speeches and Conversations, which is | |
strange to have Minds according to the Mode, as to have a mode-Judgment, for | |
all will give their Judgments and Opinions according to the Mode, and they Love | |
and Hate according to the Mode, they are Courageous or Cowardly according to | |
the Mode, Approve or Dislike according to the Mode, nay, their VVits are | |
according to the Mode, as to Raillery, Clinch, Buffonly Jest, and the like, for | |
Better Wit is not usually the Mode, as being always out of Fashion amongst | |
mode-Gallants, but True and Good Wit lives with the Seniors of the Time, such | |
as Regard not the Mode, but Choose or Prefer what is Best, and not what is Most | |
in Fashion, unless that which is Best be in Fashion, which is very seldom if | |
ever Known, for that which is Best or Good, is not General, especially Wit, for | |
the Right True and Best Wit keeps to Particulars, as being Understood by | |
Particulars; Some Mothers have oftner Wit in their Mouths than in their Brains, | |
that is, they Speak the Wit of Others, but have none of their Own. But Grave, | |
Experienced and Wise men give their Judgment or Opinion, not according to the | |
Mode or Fashion, but according to Probability, Sense and Reason; neither do | |
they say, such or such a Thing Will or Shall be, or Is so, Why? because it is | |
the General Opinion, but they say, such or such a Thing May be, or 'tis Likely | |
Will be, or Is so, Why? because there is a Probability or Reason for it: | |
Neither do the Just and Wise Hate or Love, Approve or Dislike, because it is | |
the Mode, as to Hate what is not Generally Loved, or Love what is not Generally | |
Hated, or to Despise what is Generally Disliked, or Admire what is Generally | |
Commended, but they Hate what is Really Bad, Wicked or Base, and not what is | |
Thought so; and Love what is really Good, Virtuous and Worthy, not for the | |
general Opinion, but for the Truth, and they Admire and Commend, Despise or | |
Scorn, Dislike or Disapprove that which is Despisable or Discomnendable or | |
Scornable, and so the like; neither are they Courageous or Cowardly according | |
to the Mode, but they are Valiant or Cautious according to the Cause or | |
Quarrel; they do not Fight out of or in a Bravado, but for Honour, or in | |
Honour's Quarrel; nor do they Pass by Injury, or Cover an Anger or Affront with | |
a Raillery or Jest, but because the Person that did the Injury, or gave the | |
Affront, was either Drunk, Mad, or a Base, Inferior Person, fitter for his | |
Man's Quarrel, than for his Own; and for Wise men, they Speak not with | |
Mode-Phrases, but such Words as are most Plain to be Understood, and the Best | |
to Deliver or Declare Sense and Reason, and their Behaviours are those which | |
are Most Manly and Least Apish, Fantastical or Constrained; and their Clothes | |
are such as are most Useful, Easy and Becoming; neither do their Appetites | |
Relish Mode-Meats or Sauces, because they have the Mode Haut Goust, but they | |
Relish Best what is most Pleasing or Savoury to their Taste; and so for Drinks | |
Compounded, as Chocolata, Limmonada, and the like, they will not Drink them | |
because of the Mode; neither do they Affect Mode-Songs or Sounds, because they | |
are in Fashion to be Sung or Played, but because they are Well-Set Tunes, or | |
Well-Compos'd Music, or Witty Songs, and Well Sung by Good Voices, or Well | |
Plaid on Instruments; neither do they follow Mode-Vices or Vanities for | |
Fashion, but for Pleasure, or their own Humour or Fancy; nor do they use those | |
Exercises that are in Mode, but those they like Best. Thus a Wise Man Follows | |
not the Mode, but his own Humour, for if it be the Mode to Play at Tennis, or | |
Paille-maille, or the like, if he like better to Ride or Fence, he will let | |
alone the mode-Exercises and Use his Own; if it be the mode-Pastime to Play at | |
Cards or Dice, if he like better to Write or Read, he will leave the | |
mode-Pastime and Follow his Own; and if it be the mode-Custom to Dine and Sup, | |
and Meet at Ordinaries or Taverns, if he like better to Sup and Dine at Home | |
alone, he will not go to Ordinaries or Taverns; if it be the Mode to make | |
General Courtships; if he Like, or is better pleased with a Particular | |
Mistress, he will not follow the Mode; neither will he Ride Post because it is | |
the Mode, but because his Affairs Require it; neither will he Journey from | |
Place to Place to no Purpose, because it is the Mode, but will Wisely Sit | |
still or Rest at his own Home, because it is Easy, Peaceable, Quiet, and | |
Prudent, as not so Chargeable. But leaving the Modists to their mode-Clothes, | |
Oaths, Phrases, Courtships, Behaviours, Garbs and Motions, to their mode-Meats, | |
Drinks, Pastimes, Exercises, Pleasures, Vanities and Vices; to their | |
mode-Songs, Tunes, Dances, Fiddles and Voices; to their mode-Judgements, | |
Opinions and Wits; to their mode-Quarrels and Friendships, to their Mode-Lying | |
and Dissembling, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXIV. | |
MADAM, | |
'TIs usual for Men to Brag, only some Brag more Obscurely or Neatly, and some | |
more Grossly than others; and it is Natural for Women to Brag; but all Bragging | |
proceeds from Self-Love, to Covet the World's good Opinion, Esteem and Respect, | |
for through fear of Obscurity Men Divulge their own Worth, Wealth, Birth, | |
Qualities, Abilities, Favours and Graces, and those Actions they believe are | |
Worthy of Praise: but for the most part all Brags are heightened by the help of | |
Self-partiality or Self-opinion beyond the Truth; so that Brags are like | |
Romances, the Ground is True, but the Elevation False; indeed a Brag is nearer | |
a Lie than a Truth, for to speak pure Truth is not so much a Brag as a | |
Vain-glory, at least, a Vanity, which most of Mankind Delight in, although the | |
Speaker is more Delighted than the Hearer, for few or none Delight to Hear a | |
Self-praiser, unless it be those that have near Relations, as Parents, | |
Children, Brothers, Sisters, Husbands and Wives, whose Affections are Delighted | |
with their Friends Perfections and Good Fortunes, but Strangers and Visiting | |
Acquaintance Dislike that Vain Truth, and are soon Tyred with such a Relation, | |
nay, have an Aversion to the Sound of a Bragging Tongue, not their Own Tongues, | |
for no Discourse Pleases them Better, than to Discourse of Themselves, but the | |
Tongues of Others, which beget rather Envy and Malice in the Hearers, than Love | |
and Admiration. But leaving this Natural Defect and Vain Effect, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXV. | |
MADAM, | |
I Do not wonder that the several Cities and Towns in N. do Dislike their | |
Governors and Government, by reason the Commons strive to Out-brave the Nobles | |
in their Building, Garnishing, Furnishing, Adorning and Flourishing in Gold and | |
Bravery, for even the Mechanics in this City, and I believe in the rest, are | |
Suffered to have their Coaches, Lackeys, Pages, Waiting-maides, and to wear | |
Rich and Glorious Garments, Fashioning themselves in all things like the | |
Nobles, which causes Envy in the Nobility, and Pride in the Commonalty, the | |
One, to see their Inferiors Out-shine them, the Other, that they can Equal or | |
Out-brave their Betters; This Pride and Envy causes Murmur, and Murmur causes | |
Faction, which may in time make an Alteration in the State and Government, for | |
when the Commons once get so High as to Justle the Nobility, a thousand to one | |
but the Nobles Fall, and with them Royalty, by reason they are the Pillars of | |
Royalty, or Royal Government; Wherefore the Commons should be kept like Cattle | |
in Enclosed Grounds, and whenever any did Break out of their Bounds, they | |
should be Impounded, that is, the Commons should be kept Strictly, not to | |
Exceed their Rank or Degree in Show and Bravery, but to Live according to their | |
Qualities, not according to their Wealth; and those that will be so | |
Presumptuous, should be Imprisoned and Fined great Sums for that Presumption, | |
this would keep the Commons in Awe, and the Nobles in Power to uphold Royal | |
Government, which is certainly the Best and Happiest Government, as being most | |
United, by which the People becomes most Civil, for Democracy is more Wild and | |
Barbarous than Monarchy; But this is fitter for Monarchs to Consider, than for | |
Women to Speak of, and therefore leaving the One to the Other, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXVI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Was so Surprised with the Lady A. Ns. Letter, as I was Astonished, it being | |
such a Bitter and Angry Letter; but she had Reason to be Angry, because I had | |
committed a very great Fault by a Mistake, for I one day sitting a Musing with | |
my own Thoughts, was Considering and Pondering upon the natures of Mankind, and | |
Wondering with my Self, why Nature should make all Men some ways or other | |
Defective, either in Body, or Mind, or both, for a Proof I Chose out One whom I | |
thought the freest from Imperfections, either in Mind, or Body, which was the | |
Lady A. N. and I took Pen and Paper, and Writ down all the Defects I could | |
Think or had Observed in her, and upon an other all the Excellencies she was | |
Endued with, by Nature, Heaven, and Education, which last Pleased me so Well, | |
as I was resolved to send her a Copy in a Letter; but when I was to send her | |
the Letter, both the Papers lying upon my Table together, I mistook the right | |
Paper that was in her Praise, and sent that which was in her Dispraise, never | |
reading it when I sent it, and when she did Receive it, it seemed she was in as | |
much Amaze, as I at her Answer, but afterwards she fell into a very Angry | |
Passion, and in that Passion Writ me an Answer, which I opened with great Joy, | |
thinking she had been very well pleased with my former Letter, but when I did | |
read it, and had found out the mistake in sending the wrong Letter, I was as if | |
I had been Thunder-stricken, my Blood flushing so violently into my Face, as to | |
my thinking my Eyes flashed out fire like Lightning, and after that there fell | |
such a Shower of Tears, as I am confident there were more Tears shed than | |
Letters Written, where I wished that every Letter might have been buried in the | |
watery Womb or Tomb of every Tear, but it was in Vain, they being too fast | |
fixed to be Drowned, for they were fixed in her Memory, and so in Mine, but yet | |
my Tears may wash out my Fault, and my Love will ask her Pardon in the Humblest | |
and Sorrowfull'st words as I can Speak; Wherefore pray Madam, make my Peace if | |
you can, go to her and speak for me, and let her Know how it was, (for I dare | |
not Write to her again,) and so in my stead Beg my Pardon, for I dare swear by | |
Heaven, as I would have it guard my Innocence, prove the Truth, and save my | |
Soul, I am not guilty of a Crime to her, for I was free from Malice or Envy, or | |
any Evil Design, when I writ it, and not only free from any Evil to her, but | |
I was full of Love and Admiration of her, and I hope she will Pardon me, since | |
I only writ it as a Philosopher, and not as an Enemy, and since there is none | |
that lives but hath some Faults or Defects, though she hath the Least and Fewer | |
than any other of Natures Creatures, and it is some Praise to have the Least; | |
but since we are all Guilty in one kind or other, pray her to Pardon my | |
Mistake, and Philosophical Contemplation of her, and so hoping a Good Success | |
of your Petition in my Behalf, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXVII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased in your last Letter to Ask my Opinion, Judgement, and Advice | |
of that which you Spoke of when I last Saw you; truly, when any one asks my | |
Opinion of Causes or Effects, or my Judgment of Affairs, or of any thing | |
concerning the Actions of the World, as their Successes to Good or Bad, or | |
Desires my Advice of any Concernment to Particulars, let me tell you, as first, | |
for Causes and Effects, my Reason Studies, and Observation Watches, to find out | |
the Cause by the Effects, or to Foresee the Effects by the Causes; and as for | |
the Success of several Affairs and Actions in the World, I put all the | |
Probabilities in one Scale, and all the Impossibilities, or at least | |
Unlikelyhoods, in another, and Weigh them both, and which soever Scale Weighs | |
Downward, I give my Judgement; and as for Advice to Particulars, I Examine their | |
Means, Abilities, Strength, Power, Right, Truth, and Justice, according to all | |
which I give my Advice, for I Search the Bottom, Stirring up the very Dregs, or | |
Fathoming the Depth; like as Sailers cast their Line and Plummet to Fathom the | |
Sea, for fear of Quick-sands, Shelves, or the like, and then Draw up their Line | |
to see the Depth, or at least take Notice how much the Line sinks down; so do I | |
concerning my Opinion, Judgement, or Advice; but you must Pardon me if I give | |
not my Judgment or Opinion in a Public Letter, concerning Public Affairs, in | |
which I ought not to meddle, being a Woman; neither ought those of the | |
Masculine Sex to give their Opinions, or Judgments, or Advices Publicly, | |
unless they were Desired and Required so to do, as also not Impertinently, | |
Busily, or Intrudingly, to Meddle, or Censure, or Speak of that which they have | |
nothing to do, or at least, where they cannot Help or Mend. But pray believe, I | |
am not so Vain as to think I can Reason, Judge, or Advise Wisely, no, I only | |
Endeavour, or at least, Desire so to do; and since you have not mentioned under | |
your hand-writing, that which you would have me give my Opinion, Judgment, or | |
Advice of, I will not give it under my hand, but leave it till such time as we | |
Meet, for Friends may Talk as freely as Think, fearing no Treathery, and so I | |
rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
LXVIII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am Sorry that Sir C. A. is Killed, and as Sorry that V. A. hath Killed him, | |
for by Report they were both Worthy and Right Honourable Persons, which causes | |
me to wonder how such two Persons could Fall out, for surely they were such men | |
as would be as Unwilling to Give an Offence as to Take an Affront, and if the | |
Offence was Unwillingly given, as by Chance, they being men of Honour and | |
Merit, would not be Grieved, at least, not Angry at or for it: but many times a | |
Third man will make a Quarrel betwixt Two others, and leave them to Fight it | |
out. You may say, that sometimes Quarrels cannot be Avoided, although they be | |
betwixt two Noble Persons, as for Example, two Dukes, about the Pre-eminence of | |
Place, none knowing which of them had the First Place, and neither Yielding, | |
must needs Fight to Decide it; but such Cases are not often put to the Trial, | |
or ought not to be, for Heralds are for that purpose Judges. But these two | |
Noble Persons which you mentioned in your last Letter, whatsoever their Quarrel | |
was, the one is Killed, the other Banished; and now to speak of such Quarrels | |
as generally cause Duels between Private Persons, they are either about Words, | |
or Women, or Hawks, or Dogs, or Whores, or about Cards or Dice, or such | |
Frivolous, Idle, or Base Causes; I do not say All Quarrels, but Most, for some | |
are more Honourable, but of all Sorts or Causes of Quarrels, Drunken Quarrels | |
are the most Senseless; As for the Manner or Fashion of Fighting, Duels in my | |
opinion are not Proper, for in this Age in most Nations they Fight Private | |
Duels, somewhat after the manner of a Public Battle, as three against three, | |
or at least two against two, also they Fight with Pistols and Swords, with | |
their Doublets on, which serves instead of an Armour, and for the most part a | |
Horse-back; first, they shoot off their Pistols at each other, and then they | |
come to the Sword, if they be not shot Dead before their time comes to Fight, | |
for Shooting is not a direct Fighting, because they must stand at some Distance | |
to take Aim, which in my opinion appears Cowardly, to Pelt at each other, as if | |
they were Afraid to come near each other; besides, a Child may have so much | |
Skill Courage as to shoot off a Pistol, and may chance to Kill a Man, but a | |
Child cannot tell how to use a Sword, or manage a Horse; also a Peasant or such | |
mean bred Persons, can shoot off Pistols, or Carbines, or Muskets, but they | |
have no skill to use a Sword, nor know not how to manage an Horse, unless a | |
Cart-Horse, that better in a Cart than when astride: 'Tis true, Peasants or | |
Common Soldiers will fight with Force and Fury like as Beasts, and Kill their | |
Enemy with mere Strength, but not with pure Valour, for they fight as in an | |
Uproar, and will knock one another down with their Staves, or But-ends of their | |
Muskets, which is more a Club or Clown-fighting; and if they have Swords, they | |
fight with the Pummel, not with the Point, for they know not how to use it, | |
neither is it fit they should, wherefore the Gentlemen are too Strong for them, | |
for the Gentleman's point of his Sword hath the Advantage of the Clown's Club; | |
and the only Grief to Gallant, Valiant Gentlemen in the day of Battle or Duel, | |
is, the fear they should be Killed with a Bullet, against which they can show | |
no Active Valour or Well-bred Skill. The last Observation concerning fighting | |
Duels in this Age, is, in choosing of Seconds, and the right Use of Seconds in | |
all Ages that I have heard of, unless these Later, is, to be Overseers, | |
Witnesses and Judges, wherefore they ought to be Upright, Honest, Judicious, | |
and Skilful men, and Worthy, and Honourable Persons, for they are to Judge | |
whether their Quarrel requires Blood, and may not be passed over without | |
Dishonour; also they are to see that each man may be Equally Armed, and that | |
there be no Untimely Advantages taken of each other; also they are to Help or | |
Assist them when they are Wounded, as to Bind up their Wounds, and they are to | |
witness to the World how they Fought; But in this Age, the Seconds are so far | |
from being Judges, Overseers, Witnesses, or Helpful Friends, as they become | |
Duellers themselves, Fighting for Company, not for Injury or Wrong done to each | |
other, and for Fashions sake, which is an Unjust, Irrational, Inhuman, and | |
Wicked Fashion or Practice; neither is it Manly or Noble, but Base and Beastly, | |
as to Fight without Reason or Injury; wherefore Pistols and Fighting Seconds | |
ought not to be. But, Madam, if any should read this Letter besides your self, | |
I should be found fault with, it being not Fit, nor Proper for a Woman to | |
Discourse or Write of Duels or VVars, nor of Horses or Swords, or the like, | |
but pray, if you hear any say so, tell him, that I have a greater Privilege | |
than other Women in this Discourse, for my Husband hath been a General of an | |
Army of 30000 men, and hath fought Battles; also he is Master of those two | |
Arts, the Use of the Sword, and the Manage of the Horse, as there is not any | |
man, nor hath never been, so well Known, Skilful, and Practised, as he, so that | |
he is the best Horseman and Swordman in the World; also two of my three | |
Brothers were Soldiers, or Commanders in War, and well Experienced in that | |
Profession, and my Father was a Swordman, who was Banished for a time, for | |
Killing a Gentleman in a Duel of Honour. Thus have I been Born, Bred, Lived, | |
and Married, all with Sword-men, and to my greater Honour, all Valiant men; and | |
so leaving this Discourse, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
LXIX. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased to desire my Opinion of the Lord Bs. Works; truly it seems | |
by his Writings, that he was Learned, Eloquent, Witty, and Wise, fit for | |
State-Counsel and Advice, to Plead Causes, Decide Controversies, and the like, | |
and his Works or Writings have been very Propagating and Manuring other men's | |
Brains; the truth is, his Works have proved like as some sorts of Meats, which | |
through Time, or mixture of some Flatuous, or Humid Substance, Corrupt, and | |
Breed Magots or Worms; so his Writings have produced several other Books. The | |
same have Homer's Works, although they were of another Sort than his. But you | |
may say, I write more of the Transmigration than of the first Formation or | |
Principle, more of the Effects than the Cause; I confess my Pen hath Wandered | |
from your Question, and Asks your Pardon for my Transgression, and with all | |
Passionate Love, wherefore I subscribe my self, | |
Madam, Your Ladyships most Humble and faithful Servant. | |
LXX. | |
MADAM, | |
TO give you an Account, as you desire, of Mrs. H. O. who, you say, is Reported | |
to be such a Wit; all I can say, is, that I do not perceive a Superfluity; her | |
Tongue in my Hearing ran as other Women's usually doth, but a Friend of her's, | |
who lives in the same House she doth, did tell me, that to some men she doth | |
Railly and Sport with Words, for all her Discourse, or most part of it, is to | |
Men, and to some she doth repeat several Places and Speeches out of Romances, | |
and several Speeches and Parts of Plays, or Passionate Speeches, and if it be | |
concerning Love, then she turns up the black of her Eyes and Whines, and lifts | |
up her Hands after the French Mode; also she is ready and quick in giving Sharp | |
Replies, for which she is highly Applauded by the Court-Gallants which gather | |
about her, and whatsoever she says, they Cry out, I faith that is well said, | |
and then Laugh and Railly with her; then she is Gay and Merry in Sportive | |
Harmless Abuses, and Dances Much, although not Well, but speaks French like a | |
Native; then she is very Learned in the Male and Female words, as the Learned | |
term them, to wit, the Gendres of Words. As for Court-Servants she hath had | |
Many, but now she is wholly Engrossed by One. This is as much as I have Heard | |
of her, and more than I would have Repeated, had it not been to You, And thus | |
leaving her and her Wit, I rest, | |
Madam, Your very Loving Friend and Servant. | |
LXXI. | |
MADAM, | |
THe five Ladies which you Desire to have a Relation of, I cannot of my own | |
Knowledge give you an Account of, for I have but little Acquaintance with them, | |
but I can tell you what Report says; As for the Eldest, 'tis said, she wants | |
not Experience, though her Experience comes more through Misfortune than Time, | |
for she is not Old; also that she hath a good Judgment, but makes no Good Use | |
of it, for she is oftner Ruled by others Persuasion than her own Judgement; | |
neither doth she want Wit, but can Speak Well, and Promise Fair, though her | |
Deeds and Words be not Answerable, nor her Performance to her Promises, for | |
she will Speak better than Do, and Promise more than Perform; she is very Civil | |
and Humble to all Persons, to gain their Applause, but she makes no Difference | |
between the Noblest and Meanest, the Worthy and Unworthy, the Honest and | |
False, but rather of the Two she Naturally Affects those that are Meanest, | |
either for Birth, Breeding, or Merit, but to some Particulars she is very | |
Partial, even so Partial as to do Unjust Actions for their Sakes or by their | |
Persuasions. Her Confidents are such as have been False, but she believes they | |
are so Honest now, as only fit for Trust, although in all her Affairs she hath | |
had Ill Success, for all her most Secret Intentions are made Known before they | |
have been put into Action; but Time may make her Wiser. As for the Second | |
Lady, she seems at the first Acquaintance to be of a very Good and Generous | |
Nature, but some time Discovers her to be rather of an Easy, Facil, than a | |
Pure, Good or Generous Nature, a Foolish Kindness, and a Childish Liberality, | |
that with Flattery is Ruled, Governed and Persuaded, she Loves and Gives but | |
knows not Why, nor Wherefore; also she is Amorous, and at this time so in Love, | |
as it is Reported she will Marry a Person, that is so Mean, and far below her | |
in Birth, as the Marriage will not only Disgrace the Family from whence she | |
Sprung, but her Posterity that may live after her; neither hath her Beloved | |
Person nor Parts, Wealth nor Fame. Concerning the Third Lady, she is Proud and | |
Ambitious, and seems rather Obstinate than Facil, and if her Fortune were but | |
Answerable to her Birth, she in my Opinion would Deceive the Belief of many in | |
Doing those things that might be Worthy a Person of her Quality and Dignity. | |
The Fourth Lady is Simple, God know's, most of her Time is Employed in Dancing | |
and Eating, and in Foolish, Childish Sports and Pastimes; She is as Inconstant | |
as her Sex can be; she is also Amorous, and would have Love-Servants, if she | |
were not afraid of those that have some Power and Authority over her, which | |
Restrain her, but 'tis believed she will break thorough all Restraints. As for | |
her Estate, she only thinks of the Present, but never Considers the Future, | |
which makes her Necessitated, as she will in time be a Beggar. The Fifth Ladies | |
Time is only spent in Giving and Receiving Visits, in Balling, Dancing, and the | |
like, but I hear nothing else of her. Thus, Madam, have I written what is | |
Reported by those that are well Acquainted, as also by their Domestics and | |
Followers, not that I inquire into the Humours, Natures or Affairs of those | |
Persons I have no Relation to, but I cannot but hear of many Actions and | |
Persons and Passages in the World, unless I should stop my Hearing; but in this | |
Letter I have done only my Duty, in telling you what I Hear of what you Desire | |
to Know, and as long as I live, I shall be Obedient to all your Commands, and | |
Industrious to Satisfy all your Desires, and Rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased the last time you writ, to send me a Poem of your own making | |
or Composing, and to desire my Opinion of it, which Opinion, were you not such | |
a Friend as not to be Exceptious, I would not Declare, for though I will not | |
Dissemble, as to speak against my Conscience, yet I may Conceal or Bury my | |
Thoughts, Opinion, or Judgment in Silence; but I know your Humour is, that I | |
should Speak or Write freely my Thoughts, and according to your Desires, give | |
me leave to tell you, the Poem is good in that kind, but I do not like such | |
kind of Poems, which are only Complements and Gratulations put into Verses, in | |
which Poems is seldom much Wit or Fancy, only Flattery, Rime, and Number; | |
wherefore give me leave to Persuade you to alter the Subject of your Poem, and | |
to take such a Subject as hath Ground and Room for Wit and Fancy to move on; | |
also you desire my Opinion of G. Us. Poems, I cannot Praise them, because the | |
Wit Expressions are Stolen out of several Excellent Poets, only he turns their | |
Fancies and Expressions to other Subjects, so as he only Varies other men's | |
Wits, but Produces none of his Own, and such Writers may rather be named | |
Translators than Authors; Indeed, most Writings now a days, not only Verse, | |
but Prose, are but Variations, and not Creations. But leaving Witstealers, I | |
return to your Poem, which is not Theft, but an Ill-chosen Subject, which I | |
desire you to Alter. Thus Professing, as also Declaring my Friendship, in | |
giving a Free and Plain Judgment, I rest, | |
Madam, Your most faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXIII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Was reading to day some several Satyrs of several Famous Poets, wherein I | |
find, that they Praise Themselves, and Dispraise all Others, which expresses a | |
great Self-dotage, and a very Ill Nature; besides, they seem more Covetous than | |
Generous, to desire All the Praise, and to give their Neighbour not Any; In | |
truth, Writers should never speak of themselves, but in Praefatory Epistles, | |
or in a History of their own Lives, wherein they may freely declare their own | |
Acts and Opinions. But, Madam, I wish that all Writers would use their Pens as | |
your Noble Lord and Husband orders his Discourse in Speech, to speak the Best | |
of all men, and to Bury their Faults in Silence, which would make Virtue an | |
Emulation, and Faults such a Novelty, as men would be Ashamed to Commit them, | |
whereas declaring Former Faults, causes Precedent Faults no Strangers, nay, it | |
causes Precedent Faults to be more Confident and Active; But, Madam, you are | |
so Innocent and Harmless, as you are not acquainted with the Faults of others, | |
for which I am, | |
Madam, Your most humble Servant, and faithful Friend. | |
LXXIV. | |
MADAM, | |
YEsterday a Consort of Learning and Wit came to Visit me, but they became at | |
last to be a Discord; This Consort was Natural Philosophers, Theological | |
Scholars, and Poets, and their Discourse was their Music, the Philosophers | |
were the Bass, the Theologers the Tenor, and the Poets the Treble, all which | |
made an Harmony wherein was Variety and Delight, but the Poets that love Change | |
of Place, Company, and Pastime, went away, and left the Philosophers and | |
Theologers, who began a Serious Discourse, which was Dull and somewhat Tedious, | |
for it was concerning the Soul, as also the Immortality of the Soul; some of | |
the Theologers said, the Souls of Men were part of the Spirit of God, others, | |
the Souls of men were the Breath of God, others, they were a Light proceeding | |
from God, and all these Concluded that the Souls were an Immaterial or | |
Incorporeal Form, but the Natural Philosophers said, that Men's Souls or any | |
such Soul was an Essence, which was the Purest Matter, or Quintessence In and | |
Of Nature, but the Theologers would not allow that Opinion, and said, the | |
Natural Philosophers were Atheists, whereupon the Natural Philosophers said, | |
that the Theologers were Ignorant, and full of Fallacy and Sophistry, for said | |
they, How can No Matter have a Form or a Being? and if Souls are the Spirit of | |
God, they cannot possibly be Evil, and if they be the Breath of God, they | |
cannot be Corruptible, if so, then the Souls of Men cannot be subject to Sin, | |
and if not subject to Sin, in Justice they were not subject to Punishment, and | |
if the Souls of all Men were produced from God, as the Beams of Light from the | |
Sun, although the Beams might be Obscured with Dark Clouds or Gross Vapours, | |
yet they did not Lose any of their Purity or Propriety, nay, though the Sun | |
Beams were Capable to Lose their Purity or Propriety, yet the Beams proceeding | |
from God could not, for whatsoever Proceeds Immediately from God, can neither | |
be Alterable nor Impure; at last the Theologers and Philosophers became so | |
Violent and Loud, as I did fear they would have Fought, if they had had any | |
other Wounding Weapons than their Tongues, but Heaven be praised, they had no | |
Killing Swords, and so they did no harm to each other, but after the Violence | |
of their Dispute was past, I ventured to speak, saying, Noble Gentlemen, you | |
have Discoursed more Learnedly than Knowingly, and more Vainly than Wisely, for | |
Solomon says, that not any thing is thoroughly Known, and that all is Vanity | |
under the Sun, as well that which hath been, as what is, and shall be, and yet | |
his Wisdom proceeded from Gods particular Gift; wherefore leave the Foolish | |
Custom of Disputing, and bring in a Devout Custom of Praying, leaving your | |
Souls to Gods disposing, without troubling them with Idle Arguments; and | |
hearing me talk Simply, they laughed at my Innocence, and in their Mirth became | |
Good Friends and Sociable Companions, and after some time they took their | |
leave, and left me to relate their Discourse in a Letter to your Ladyship. So | |
leaving your Ladyship to your own Contemplations, I remain, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and humble Servant. | |
LXXV. | |
MADAM, | |
IT is seldom known that a Perfect and Famous Poet or Philosopher was ever very | |
Cruel, David and Solomon were the most Bloody, but they were Kings, and it | |
seems Reason of State was too forcible for Good Nature, and there is no Rule | |
but hath some Exception. But had I Children I would endeavour with all the | |
Rational Arguments Witty Discourses I were Capable of, to persuade them to | |
delight in Poetry and Philosophy, that they might be Civil, Generous, and Just, | |
which would be a Greater and more Lasting Honour to them than Wealth or Titles; | |
besides the Pleasure of Thoughts and Tranquillity of Mind would be a Heaven | |
upon Earth, all which Silent Contemplation brings them unto, for Contemplation | |
brings Consideration, Consideration brings Judgment, Judgment brings Reason, | |
Reason brings Truth, Truth brings Peace; also Consideration brings Conception, | |
Conception brings Fancy, Fancy brings Wit, and Wit brings Delight. But you will | |
say, Nature hath not made all Mankind Capable of Good Instruction, 'tis true, | |
but give me leave to say, that I believe there are more Faults in Educators | |
than in Nature; but, Madam, I have no Children, therefore no Tutoress, and if I | |
had Children, 'tis likely I should have done as most Parents do, which is, to | |
Breed them up in Vanity and not in Virtue; but, Madam, you have Children, which | |
I am confident will be Sweetly Disposed, like your Self, for you Breed them | |
Gently, rather with Reason than with Rods, wherein you do Wisely and Kindly, | |
and I wish all Parents and Tutors may take an Example from you, who are a Lady | |
of such Perfection, as I account my Self Honoured to be, | |
Madam, Your Humble and Devoted Servant. | |
LXXVI. | |
MADAM, | |
SInce I last writ to you, I have been to hear Mrs. P. N. Preach, for now she | |
is, as I did believe she would be, viz. a Preaching Sister, There were a great | |
many Holy Sisters and Holy Brethren met together, where many took their turns | |
to Preach, for as they are for Liberty of Conscience, so they are for Liberty | |
of Preaching, but there were more Sermons than Learning, and more Words than | |
Reason, Mrs. P. N. began, but her Sermon I do not well remember, and after she | |
had Sighed and VVinded out her Devotion, a Holy Brother stood up and Preached | |
thus, as I shall briefly relate to you. | |
DEarly beloved Brethren and Sisters, We are gathered together in the Lord with | |
Purity of Spirit to Preach his Word amongst us, We are the Chosen and Elect | |
Children of the Lord who have Glorified Spirits and Sanctified Souls, we have | |
the Spirit of God in us, which Inspires us to Pray and to Preach, as also to | |
Call upon his Name and to Remember him of his Promise to Unite and Gather us | |
together into his New Jerusalem, separating us from Reprobates, that we may not | |
be Defiled with their Presence, for you Dear Brethren Know by the Spirit, that | |
they are not the Children of the Lord but Sathans Children, they are the | |
Children of Darkness, we the Children of Light, we are Glorified and Sanctified | |
by Supernatural Grace, we are a Peculiar People, and the Holy Prophets of the | |
Lord, to Fore-see, Fore-tell and Declare his Will and Pleasure, also we are to | |
Encourage and Comfort the Saints in Afflictions and Times of Tribulation and | |
Consolation, and to Help them to Present their Sanctified Sighs, Tears and | |
Groans unto the Lord; but the Spirit moves me to Pray and to leave off | |
Preaching, wherefore let us Pray unto the Lord. | |
So after the Holy Brother had done his Prayer, Mr. N. N. who was there, pulled | |
off his Peruick, and put on a Night-Cap, wherein he appeared so like a Holy | |
Brother as they took him for one of their Sect, and he Preached this following | |
Sermon. | |
DEarly beloved Brethren, We are here met in a Congregation together, some to | |
Teach, others to Learn; but neither the Teaching nor Learning can be any other | |
way but Natural and according to Human Capacity, for we cannot be Celestial | |
whilst we are Terrestrial, neither can we be Glorified whilst we are Mortal and | |
subject to Death, nor yet can we arrive to the Purity of Saints or Angels, | |
whilst we are subject to Natural Imperfections both in Body and Mind, but there | |
are some Men that Believe they are, or at least may be so Pure in Spirit by | |
Saving Grace, as to be Sanctified, and to be so much filled with the Holy Ghost | |
as to have Spiritual Visions, and ordinarily to have Conversation with God, | |
believing God to be a Common Companion to their Idle Imaginations. But this | |
Opinion proceeds from an Extraordinary Self-Love, Self-Pride, and | |
Self-Ambition, as to believe they are the only fit Companions for God himself, | |
and that not any of God's Creatures are or were Worthy to be Favoured, but | |
They, much less to be made of Gods Privy Counsel, as they believe they are, as | |
to Know his Will and Pleasure, his Decrees and Destinies, which indeed are not | |
to be Known, for the Creator is too Mighty for a Creature to Comprehend him, | |
Wherefore let us Humbly Pray to What we cannot Conceive. | |
But before he had quite Ended his Sermon, the Holy flock began to Bustle, and | |
at last Went quite out of the Room, so that he might have Prayed by Himself, | |
had not I and two or three Ladies more that were of my Company, Stayed, and | |
when he had done his short Prayer, He told me and the other Ladies, that he had | |
Done that which the Great Counsel of State could not Do, for he had by one | |
short Discourse Dispersed a Company of Sectaries without Noise or Disturbance, | |
but at last we dispersed our selves to our own Houses, although Mr. N. N. would | |
have given us a Ball after a Sermon, but I was so tyred with the One, as I was | |
not fit for the Other, for we were from Morning till Evening to hear them | |
Preach; yet as Tyred and Weary as I am I could not choose but Repeat these two | |
of their shortest Sermons which I heard, and so I subscribe my self, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXVII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased to desire me to Read the Romance of A. as also, the Romance | |
of C. which I have obeyed in reading the Romance of A; but as yet I have not | |
read any part of C. and to give you an Account of my Perusal, I think there is | |
more Love than Reason in it, and more Wit than Truth or Probability of Truth; | |
and certainly it is deplorable, that so much Wit and Eloquence should be wasted | |
on Amorous Love, as also to bring all Scholastical, as Theological, Physical, | |
Logistical and the like Arguments, Disputes and Discourses, into the Theme of | |
Amorous Love, which Love is between Appetite or Desire and Fruition of | |
Different Sexes of Men and Women; but I perceive that Romance-Writers endeavour | |
to make all their Romance-Readers believe that the Gods, Nature, Fates, | |
Destinies and Fortune do employ or busy themselves only in the affairs of | |
Amorous Lovers, which is a very low Employment or Concern. Also I perceive that | |
Romance-Lovers are very Rheumatic, for if all the Tears Romances express | |
Lovers to shed, were Gathered or United, it would cause a second Deluge of the | |
World; it seems Amorous Love is Composed more of Water than Fire, and more of | |
Desire than Fruition. But leaving Amorous Lovers to more Folly than Discretion, | |
to Lose more Time than to Gain Love, and wishing them Sound Lungs for Sighs, | |
and Moist Eyes for Tears, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXVIII. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you expressed that you had Presented C. with a Book of Gs. | |
Writing, I wonder you would Present that Book to C. by reason that he is a | |
Gallant for Pleasure, and not a Stoic for Study; also you expressed you sent | |
one to D. the Student, let me tell you, Madam, I dare swear he will never read | |
it Half out, not for the Bigness of the Volume, but for the Newness of the | |
Style and Age, for most Students despise all New Works, and only delight in Old | |
Worm-eaten Records; the truth is, few Books are read Throughout the First Age, | |
it is well if at the Fourth Age the End be arrived at, especially in the same | |
Nation where the Author is a Native, for as our Saviour says, A man is not | |
Esteemed of in his Own Country, and yet in another place he says, A man is | |
Known by his Works; wherefore the best way for a man that would have his | |
Writings Known and Esteemed of in his Life time, is to send them to Travel into | |
Foreign Nations, for at Home they will find but little Applause, no not | |
Romances, which the World Dotes on, for Distance of Place is next to Distance | |
of Time, at least resembles it. But if any will present their Works to Persons | |
of their Own Nation, they must present them to such as are Known to Delight in | |
such Subjects their Books treat of, and then perchance they may read a leaf or | |
two, and by that Censure all the Book; But fearing you should Censure me for | |
writing so Long a Letter, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXIX. | |
MADAM, | |
I Was yesterday presented with a Book Translated out of French into English, | |
wherein I find the Author of the Book Condemns those that set their Images | |
before their Books, or that suffer their Friends to give their Opinions of | |
their Books in Epistles, or that do write many, or some, or few Epistles before | |
their Books, whereas himself writes so Long an Epistle, in finding Fault with | |
Others, and civilly Applauding Himself, in not having his Picture or his | |
Friends Applauses, as that Epistle or Preface is as Long, if not More, than | |
many Short Epistles, and as Vain-glorious as Many Friends Praises. But I am so | |
far from that Noble Persons Opinion or Modesty, that I wish, whereas I have One | |
Friend to Praise my Works, although Partially, I had a Thousand, or rather Ten | |
thousand Millions, nay, that their number were Infinite, that the Issue of my | |
Brain, Fame, and Name, might live to Eternity if it were possible; neither do I | |
think or believe it a Sin to Wish it, by reason it proceeds from Pure | |
Self-love, which is the Root or Foundation of the Love of God and all Moral | |
Virtues, I do not mean Corrupted Self-love, but as I said, Pure Self-love, by | |
which God and Nature did Make, and doth Order the whole World, or Infinite | |
Matter. But, Madam, give me leave to say, that this Age doth Corrupt all Wit | |
and Wisdom with Sophistry, and because they cannot write Beyond the Ancients, | |
they will endeavour to Disgrace them, although most Writers Steal from them. | |
But for this French Author, setting aside his Epistle, his Book is full of Wit | |
and Reason, as it is rendered by the Translator, and wishing all Writers could | |
fill their Books with Wit and Reason, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXX. | |
MADAM, | |
BY Relation, Reading, and Observation, I find that every Age is not alike for | |
Humour, Judgement and Wit, although alike for Kind, Life and Death; for some | |
Ages are so Heroic, as all their Thoughts are of War, and all their Actions | |
Fighting; in other Ages all their Thoughts are Considering, and their Actions | |
Experiments; in other Ages all their Thoughts are Superstitious, and their | |
Actions Sermons; in other Ages all their Thoughts are Amorous, and their | |
Actions Adulteries; and so in many other things, as Humours, Passions, | |
Appetites, Customs, as also in Diets, Accoutrements, Behaviour, Discourse, and | |
the like; all which I have seriously Considered, what should be the Cause that | |
men being of One and the same Kind, viz. Mankind, should Differ so much in | |
several Ages in the Course of their Life; But I cannot find any more Reason for | |
it, than for several Diseases in several Ages, as for Example, a Disease, | |
namely, the Sweating Disease, that was Predominant in England, and after in | |
Germany, and many other Diseases which are Predominant in One Age and not in | |
Another, which certainly is produced from an Influence from the Planets. But | |
this is to be observed, that Evils may proceed from the Planets, but what is | |
Good both for Body and Mind proceeds from a Higher, Celestial Power. And as for | |
this Age we live in now, 'tis Prodigal to their Enemies, and Ungrateful to | |
their Friends; but, Madam, though this Age be so Infected in the Generality, | |
yet some Particulars escape this Infection, for You and I are as Constant in | |
Friendship as the Light to the Sun, which is the Happiness of | |
Madam, Your Humble Servant. | |
LXXXI. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you desired me to write some Letters of Complement, as | |
also some Panegyrics, but I must entreat you to Excuse me, for my Style in | |
Writing is too Plain and Simple for such Courtly Works; besides, give me leave | |
to inform you, that I am a Servant to Truth and not to Flattery; although I | |
confess, I rather Lose than Gain in my Mistress's Service, for she is Poor and | |
Naked, and hath not those means to Advance her Servants as Flattery hath, who | |
gives Plenty of Words, and is Prodigal of Praise, and is Clothed in a | |
Flourishing Style, Embroidered with Oratory; but my Mistress, Truth, hath no | |
need of such Adornings, neither doth she give many Words, and seldom any | |
Praise, so as her Servants have not any thing to live on or by, but mere | |
Honesty, which rather Starves than Feeds any Creature; yet howsoever, I being | |
bred in her Service from my Youth, will never Quit her till Death takes me | |
away; and if I can Serve you by Serving her, Command me, and I shall Honestly | |
Obey you, and so rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
LXXXII. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you Condemn me for living a Country Life, saying, I Bury | |
my self whilst I Live, and you wonder, that knowing I love Glory, I should live | |
so Solitary a Life as I do; I confess, Madam, both the Manner of my Life and my | |
Ambitious Nature, If a Solitary Life be not to Live in a Metrapolitan City, | |
spread broad with Vanity, and almost smothered with Crowds of Creditors for | |
Debts; and as I Confess my Solitude, so I Confess my Glory, which is to Despise | |
such Vanities, as will be rather a Reproach to my Life, than a Fame to after | |
Ages, and I should Weep my self into Water, if I could have no other Fame than | |
Rich Coaches, Lackeys, and what State and Ceremony could produce, for my | |
Ambition flies higher, as to Worth and Merit, not State and Vanity; I would be | |
Known to the World by my Wit, not by my Folly, and I would have my Actions so | |
Wise and Just, as I might neither be Ashamed nor Afrai'd to Hear of my self. | |
But, Madam, as you Condemn My Life, so I Condemn Yours, for the Nobles that | |
live in a Metrapolitan City, live but as Citizens, and Citizens that live in | |
the Country, live like Noble men, with less Expenses and more Liberty, having | |
large Extension of Lands, and not Imprisoned in One House, and their | |
Recreations are more Various and Noble, neither do they spend their Time in | |
Idle Visiting, but Prudent Overseeing; In short, Madam, there is so much | |
Difference in either sort of Life, as the One is like Heaven, full of Peace and | |
Blessedness, the Other full of Trouble and Vice; and so living in the sweet Air | |
of Content, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXXIII. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you Chid me for Loving too Earnestly, saying, Extreme Love | |
did Consume my Body and Torment my Mind, and that whosoever Love to a High | |
Degree are Fools; If so, I Confess, Madam, I am as much a Fool as ever Nature | |
made, for where I set my Love, it is Fixed like Eternity, and is as Full as | |
Infinite; My Love is not Fixed Suddenly, for it takes Experience and | |
Consideration to help to Place it, both which have been my Guides and Directors | |
to Love you, which makes me Love you Much, and shall make me Love you Long, if | |
Souls Die not, and so I shall always, and in all occasions be, | |
Madam, Your Constant Friend and Humble Servant. | |
LXXXIV. | |
MADAM, | |
NOw we be both Returned into our Native Country, let us Meet to Rejoice | |
together, for though our Husbands have Lost much, yet the Broken parts of their | |
Estates they have Recovered by the Just Laws of this Kingdom, will afford us | |
some Recreation, Pastime, and Harmless Sports. As for the Place of our Meeting, | |
If I may Advise, it shall be N. whose Owner is M. N. a Person that hath Lost | |
the Most of any Subject, yet he is the Best Contented, and so the Happiest, for | |
he never Troubles himself for any Worldly Wealth, especially when he cannot | |
tell Honestly which way to Repair his Estate; And though he be Wisely Prudent, | |
yet he is not Basely Miserable, as to be Miserably Sparing, but will Entertain | |
us Civilly, Friendly, Generously, Pleasantly, Delightfully. So expecting when | |
you will appoint the Time, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
LXXXVI. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you did friendly Chide me for my Passionate Anger, and for | |
some Words I did speak in that Angry Passion, I Confess my Error, but yet you | |
must Know that my Passion proceeded from Extreme Natural and Honest Love, as to | |
be Angry in Mind, and Bitter and Sharp in Words, to and of those, I know by | |
Experience and Practice to be Envious, Spiteful, Malicious, and Ungrateful to | |
those I do and ought dearly to Love, and this made me Speak that which | |
Discretion perchance did not Allow or Approve of, although Honesty could not | |
Forbid it; but had it been in my Own particular Cause or Person, I should | |
neither have been Angry nor Bitter, neither in Thoughts nor Words, for I can | |
easily pass over all Hate or Anger, either in Words or Actions to my Self, so | |
they be neither Contumelious, nor Impairably Dishonourable, the First can | |
proceed from none but my Superiors, the Other from none but Bestial Ruffians; | |
As for my Superiors, I count none my Superiors, but those that Surpass me in | |
Virue, Grace, Wisdom, and Excellency of Mind, except my Natural Parents; and | |
as for Rude Ruffians, I am of such Quality, as not to Keep such Company, nor to | |
be Unattended by Servants that Wait upon me, or near my Call. But I Confess my | |
Indiscretion, for Violent Passion doth neither gain Justice, Right, nor Truth, | |
of Malice, Wrong, and Falsehood, Yet I am obliged to you for your Love, for you | |
have showed more True Friendship in your Reproof, than Feigned Friends do in | |
their Flattery, for which I am, | |
Madam, Your Faithful and most Humble Servant. | |
LXXXVI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Have Read Rs. Book, which you were pleased to send me, and it is written | |
Learnedly, Eloquently, Wittily, and Christianly, for all which the Author is to | |
be Applauded and Admired, concerning the Truth, Method, and Ingenuity of the | |
Work, and had he been a Divine by Order and Profession, the Subject of his | |
Book, which is, concerning the Scripture, had been most Applaudable, but being | |
a Lay-man and not a Consecrated Church-man, the Scripture was not a fit Theme | |
for his Pen to work upon, at least not in my Opinion, for although I Keep | |
strictly to the Church of England, yet I think it not fit for a Lay-man to | |
busy his Pen concerning the Scripture; for it belongs only to Church-men, to | |
Study, Interpret, Expound, Teach and Preach the Scripture, and its an | |
Usurpation for Lay-men to meddle in Church-mens Profession, unless it be | |
granted that a Lay-man have more Wit, Reason, Learning and Inspiration than | |
all the Church-men have. But truly, Madam, the Book is an Excellent Book in | |
that Kind, Only give me leave to tell you, that to Defend Scripture is partly | |
to express Faults in Scripture; and to Dispute upon the Obscurities in | |
Scripture is to Puzzle the Truth in Scripture. But leaving Scripture to the | |
Church-men, and the Author to Fame, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXXVII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am Sorry Mrs. D. is so Despairingly Melancholy as not to be Comforted, and I | |
am the more Sorry that the Ground of her Despair is the Bible and Ignorant | |
Interpreters, such as rather Confound the Clear Expressions therein, than Clear | |
the Dark and Mystical. But many Pious persons have fallen into the same | |
Distemper, through want of Deep Capacities, Clear Understandings, and Sound | |
Judgments, to Interpret the Scripture, or to Conceive the Spiritual | |
Inspections and Elevations of the Purity of Christian Religion, and all the | |
several Opinions therein. The Church of England is the Purest, but yet it hath | |
suffered the Scripture to be Read too Commonly, which hath caused much | |
Disturbance, not only to Particular Persons, but in the Church it self, and | |
hath lost much of the Dignity belonging to Church-men, nay, it hath so | |
Discomposed the Church-Government, as it is a wonder it should settle in its | |
Centre again. But the Church-men say, they give Lay-men Leave for to Read the | |
Scripture, but not to Interpret it, but the Leave of the First gives Leave to | |
the Latter. But, Madam, these Causes are not for our Sex to Discourse of, | |
wherefore we will rather Pray for our Afflicted Friend Mrs. D. and so taking my | |
leave of you, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
LXXXVIII. | |
MADAM, | |
I Do not Wonder that the War in E. against O. hath no Better Success, since | |
there are such Petty Commanders and Mean Governors, and I Fear the Warring | |
designs of G. will have no Better fortune, because the Generals, which are to | |
Command in Chief, are not much Better than those that are to be Commanded, | |
neither for Skill, Conduct, Fame, Title, Friends, Wealth nor Power, in all | |
which a General ought to Surpass those he Commands, for they may be Good | |
Soldiers for a Troop, Regiment or Brigade, which are not Skilful or Fit for a | |
General, for to be a Good General, doth not only require Skill and Courage, but | |
Wise Conduct, and Wisdom is not found in every Soldiers brain; besides, a | |
General must be a man of Note, for an Inferior Person will hardly be Obeyed, | |
for if he be not a man of Fame, Title, Worth and Merit, every Under Commander | |
will think himself as Good and fit to be a General as he, and will scorn to be | |
Commanded by his Equal; Wherefore Superiors are only fit to be Commanders and | |
Governors: Besides, a General or Governor must be full of Generosity, free | |
from Covetousness, which Generosity seldom Cohabit's with Poverty or Inferior | |
Persons; also they must be Just; both to Punish and Reward, Resolute to execute | |
the one, and Forward to perform the other. But Officers, Governors and | |
Commanders are for the most part chosen by the means of Bribes, Faction or | |
Favour, and not for Fitness, Worth and Merit, which Causes so many Disorders, | |
Complaints and Rebellions, for few Nations live long in Peace, and most part of | |
the World, at least all Europe is at this time filled with bloody War, and most | |
Nations are forced to War with each other to Keep their Natives from Civil | |
Dissentions. But War is not a Subject proper for our Sex to discourse of, | |
although in the Ruins of War we suffer Equally with Men; Wherefore leaving | |
this Discourse of War I Conclude with Peace, for I am, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and humble Servant. | |
LXXXIX. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am Sorry to hear Mrs. C. L. is married to one She Dislikes so much, as to | |
profess she cannot Love her Husband, and to Complain of her Parents, for | |
forcing her with Threats of Curses to that Match, but it is to be hoped, that | |
Love will both begin and increase by Acquaintance and Society, and his Kindness | |
to her, for he is reported to be a very Honest Good-natured man, and then she | |
will give her Parents Thanks, for it is to be observed, that Hot Amorous Lovers | |
when they are Married, their Affections grow Cooler, and at last so Cold as to | |
Dye Insensible, so as the Marriage-bed proves the Grave of Love, I mean of fond | |
Amorous Love, for certainly Amorous Lovers have Poetical Imaginations of each | |
other, and Fancy each other not only Beyond what they are, but what is not in | |
Nature to be, but such Matrimonial Acquaintance proves their Love was built on | |
Fancy, and not on Reality, they Married Mortal Creatures, not Gods or | |
Goddesses, nor such Worthy or Constant Damsels as Romances feign, so as their | |
Love Vanishes as Poetical Airy Castles, or Enchanted Towers, and not any Love | |
Remains, but if there doth, it is but as a Thatched Cottage, a Plain, Homely | |
Love, whereas they that Marry Discreetly, and not Fondly, their Love is like | |
Poor Beginners, who have Nothing or very Little to live on, but being Honest | |
and Industrious, get something, and being Prudent and Thrifty, in time become | |
Rich, nay, many times so Rich, as to Build stately Palaces, and have Respect | |
and Honour from all that know them; so in those Marriages where Discretion | |
joins hands, Honesty begets Love, and thrifty Temperance makes Constancy, which | |
builds Happiness and Peace for their Lives to live in, and all that Know or | |
Hear of them, Honour and Respect them for their Worth and Merit, for their | |
Wisdom and True Love. But as Time joins Honest minds and Temperate persons | |
with Love, so Time separates Vain Imaginations and Amorous persons with | |
Dislike, and sometimes with Hate; and so leaving C. L. to Time, Reality, | |
Temperance, Discretion, and Honesty, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Fr. and S. | |
XC. | |
MADAM, | |
I Am sorry the Plague is much in the City you are in, as I hear, and fear your | |
Stay will Endanger your Life, for the Plague is so Spreading and Penetrating a | |
Disease, as it is a Malignant Contagion, and Dilates it self throughout a City, | |
nay, many times, from City to City, all over a Kingdom, and enters into every | |
Particular House, and doth Arrest almost every Particular Person with Death, at | |
least, lays grievous Sores upon them; Indeed Great Plagues are Death's | |
Harvest, where he Reaps down Lives like Ears of Corn; wherefore, Madam, let me | |
persuade you to Remove, for certainly Life is so Precious, as it ought not to | |
be Ventured, where there is no Honour to be Gained in the Hazard, for Death | |
seems Terrible, I am sure it doth to Me, there is nothing I Dread more than | |
Death, I do not mean the Strokes of Death, nor the Pains, but the Oblivion in | |
Death, I fear not Death's Dart so much as Death's Dungeon, for I could | |
willingly part with my Present Life, to have it Redoubled in after Memory, and | |
would willingly Die in my Self, so I might Live in my Friends; Such a Life have | |
I with you, and you with me, our Persons being at a Distance, we live to each | |
other no otherwise than if we were Dead, for Absence is a Present Death, as | |
Memory is a Future Life; and so many Friends as Remember me, so many Lives I | |
have, indeed so many Brains as Remember me, so many Lives I have, whether they | |
be Friends or Foes, only in my Friends Brains I am Better Entertained; And | |
this is the Reason I Retire so much from the Sight of the World, for the Love | |
of Life and Fear of Death: for since Nature hath made our Bodily Lives so | |
short, that if we should Live the full Period, it were but like a Flash of | |
Lightning, that Continues not, and for the most part leaves black Oblivion | |
behind it; and since Nature Rules the Bodily Life, and we cannot live Always, | |
nor the Bounds of Nature be Enlarged, I am industrious to Gain so much of | |
Nature's Favour, as to enable me to do some Work, wherein I may leave my Idea, | |
or Live in an Idea, or my Idea may Live in Many Brains, for then I shall Live | |
as Nature Lives amongst her Creatures, which only Lives in her Works, and is | |
not otherwise Known but by her Works, we cannot say, she lives Personally | |
amongst her Works, but Spiritually within her Works; and naturally I am so | |
Ambitious, as I am restless to Live, as Nature doth, in all Ages, and in every | |
Brain, but though I cannot hope to do so, yet it shall be no Neglect in me; And | |
as I desire to Live in every Age, and in every Brain, so I desire to Live in | |
every Heart, especially in your Ladyships, wherein I believe I do already, and | |
wish I may live Long. Wherefore for my own sake, as well as yours, let me | |
entreat you to Remove out of that Plaguy City, for if you Die, all those | |
Friends you Leave, or Think of, or Remember, partly Die with you, nay, some | |
perchance for Ever, if they were Personally Dead before, and only Live in your | |
Memory; Wherefore, as you are a Noble Lady, have a Care of your Friends, and go | |
out of that City as Soon as you can, in which you will Oblige all those you | |
Favour, or that Love you, amongst which there is none more Truly, Faithfully, | |
and Fervently, your Friend and Servant, than, | |
Madam, I, M. N. | |
XCI. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you say, that the Lady G. P. carried a Letter she received | |
from Mrs. O. B. from Company to Company to Jest at, because it was not Indicted | |
after the Courtly Phrase, but after the Old manner and way, beginning thus, | |
After my hearty Commendation, hoping you are in good Health, as I am at the | |
writing hereof; this is to let you understand, c. But I know not why any body | |
should Jest at it, for 'tis Friendly to send their Commendations, and to wish | |
them Good Health, and certainly Friendly and Kind Expressions are to be | |
Preferred before Courtly Complements, the First sounds like Real Truth, the | |
Other may be demonstrated to be Feigning, for all Complements Exceed the Truth; | |
'Tis true, the Style of Letters alters and changes as the Fashion of Clothes | |
doth, but Fashions are not always changed for more Commodious or Becoming, but | |
for the sake of Variety, for an Old Fashion may be more Useful and Graceful | |
than a Modern Fashion: But I believe the Lady G. P. carried Mrs. O. B s. Letter | |
about with her for a Pretence to visit Company, like as Gossips do Cakes and | |
other Junkets to their Neighbours, the Junkets increasing the Company, and the | |
Company the Junkets, so the Lady G. P. out of a Luxury to Talk and Company, | |
like as other Gossips out of a Luxury to Talking and Eating, carried the | |
Letter, to show her several Acquaintance Sport, to get other Acquaintance, and | |
if she had not had that Letter, 'tis likely she would have found some other | |
Pretence rather than have stayed at Home. Indeed, one may say, that in this Age | |
there is a malignant Contagion of Gossiping, for not only one Woman Infects | |
another, but the Women Infect the Men, and then one Man Infects another, nay, | |
it Spreads so much, as it takes hold even on Young Children, so strong and | |
Infectious is this Malignity; but if any will Avoid it, they must every Morning | |
Anoint the Soles of their Feet with the Oil of Slackness, and Bath every Limb | |
in a Bath of Rest, then they must put into their Ears some Drops of Quiet, to | |
Strengthen the Brain against Vaporous Noise, and Stop their Ears with a little | |
Wool of Deafness, to keep out the Wind of Idle Discourse, also they must Wash | |
their Eyes with the Water of Obscurity, lest the glaring light of Vanity should | |
Weaken them, and they must take some Electuary of Contemplation, which is very | |
Soverain to Comfort the Spirits, and they must drink Cooling Julips of | |
Discretion, which are good against the Fever of Company, and if they take some | |
Jelly of Restraint, they will find it to be an Excellent Remedy against this | |
Malignity, only they must take great care lest they be too Relax to | |
Persuasion, but rather so Restringent as to be Obstinate from entering into a | |
Concourse; for there is nothing more Dangerous in all Malignant Diseases, than | |
Throngs or Crowds of People; and this is the best Preparative against the | |
Plague of Gossiping. But for fear with writing too Long a Letter I should fall | |
into that Disease, I take my leave, and rest, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XCII. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you were pleased to tell me, that Sir A. M. was to Visit | |
you, and hearing that the Lady B. V. was come to See you, he started from the | |
Place he sate, and went away as in Hast, in my Opinion it was Strange he should | |
do so, since he professes to Love her so much, as the Extremity makes him | |
Unhappy, for though some may Run away through Fear, yet not for Love, for | |
whatsoever is Loved or Beloved, is Sought after, what men are Afraid of, they | |
Fly from, and what they Love, they Fly to; so that Love Pursues, and Hate or | |
Fear is as it were Pursued; but perchance he is a Despairing Lover, and Despair | |
is beyond all other Passions; besides, Despair proceeds from Fear, for Fear is | |
the Father that begets Despair; or perchance he was afraid that his Presence in | |
her Company might Injure her Reputation, being Known to be her Lover; or he | |
might fear his Presence might Displease her, and Lovers had rather Grieve | |
Themselves, than Injure or Anger their Beloved; or else he was afraid that the | |
Sight of her would Increase his Torments, or Tormenting Love: But howsoever, | |
certainly Fear was the cause of his sudden Departure, and 'tis to be feared, | |
that his Love is mixed with an Unlawful Desire, that he was afraid to See her | |
whom he had no Hopes to Enjoy. But leaving Sr. A. M. to Despair, and her to her | |
Chaste Virtue, I rest, | |
Madam, Your very faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XCIII. | |
MADAM, | |
YOu were pleased in your last Letter to express to me the Reason of the Lady | |
D. S s. and the Lady E. Ks. Melancholy, which was for Want of Children; I can | |
not Blame the Lady D. S. by reason her Husband is the Last of his Family unless | |
he have Children, but the Lady E. Ks. Husband being a Widower when he Married | |
her, and having Sons to Inherit his Estate, and to Keep up his Family, I Know | |
no Reason why she should be troubled for having no Children, for though it be | |
the part of every Good Wife to desire Children to Keep alive the Memory of | |
their Husbands Name and Family by Posterity, yet a Woman hath no such Reason to | |
desire Children for her Own Sake, for first her Name is Lost as to her | |
Particular, in her Marrying, for she quits her Own, and is Named as her | |
Husband; also her Family, for neither Name nor Estate goes to her Family | |
according to the Laws and Customs of this Country; Also she Hazards her Life | |
by Bringing them into the World, and hath the greatest share of Trouble in | |
Bringing them up; neither can Women assure themselves of Comfort or Happiness | |
by them, when they are grown to be Men, for their Name only lives in Sons, who | |
Continue the Line of Succession, whereas Daughters are but Branches which by | |
Marriage are Broken off from the Root from whence they Sprang, Ingrafted into | |
the Stock of an other Family, so that Daughters are to be accounted but as | |
Moveable Goods or Furnitures that wear out; and though sometimes they carry the | |
Lands with them, for want of Heir-males, yet the Name is not Kept nor the Line | |
Continued with them, for these are buried in the Grave of the Males, for the | |
Line, Name and Life of a Family ends with the Male issue; But many times | |
Married Women desire Children, as Maids do Husbands, more for Honour than for | |
Comfort or Happiness, thinking it a Disgrace to live Old Maids, and so likewise | |
to be Barren, for in the Jews time it was some Disgrace to be Barren, so that | |
for the most part Maids and Wives desire Husbands and Children upon any | |
Condition, rather than to live Maids or Barren: But I am not of their minds, | |
for I think a Bad Husband is far worse than No Husband, and to have Unnatural | |
Children is more Unhappy than to have No Children, and where One Husband proves | |
Good, as Loving and Prudent, a Thousand prove Bad, as Cross and Spendthrifts, | |
and where One Child proves Good, as Dutiful and Wise, a Thousand prove | |
Disobedient and Fools, as to do Actions both to the Dishonour and Ruin of | |
their Families. Besides, I have observed, that Breeding Women, especially | |
those that have been married some time, and have had No Children, are in their | |
Behaviour like New-married VVives, whose Actions of Behaviour and Speech are so | |
Formal and Constrained, and so Different from their Natural way, as it is | |
Ridiculous; for New Married Wives will so Bridle their Behaviour with | |
Constraint, or Hang down their Heads so Simply, not so much out of True | |
modesty, as a Forced Shamefulness; and to their Husbands they are so Coyly | |
Amorous, or so Amorously Fond and so Troublesome Kind, as it would make the | |
Spectators Sick, like Fulsome Meat to the Stomach; and if New-married Men were | |
Wise men, it might make them Ill Husbands, at least to Dislike a Married Life, | |
because they cannot Leave their Fond or Amorous VVives so Readily or Easily as | |
a Mistress; but in Truth that Humour doth not last Long, for after a month or | |
two they are like Surfeited Bodies, that like any Meat Better than what they | |
were so Fond of, so that in time they think their Husbands Worse Company than | |
any other men. Also Women at the Breeding of their First Children make so many | |
Sick Faces, although oftentimes the Sickness is only in their Faces, not but | |
that some are Really Sick, but not every Breeding Women; Likewise they have | |
such Feigned Coughs, and fetch their Breath Short, with such Feigning Laziness, | |
and so many Unnecessary Complaints, as it would VVeary the most Patient Husband | |
to hear or see them: besides, they are so Expensive in their Longings and | |
Perpetual Eating of several Costly Meats, as it would Undo a man that hath but | |
an Indifferent Estate; but to add to their Charge, if they have not what they | |
Please for Child-bed Linen, Mantels, and a Lying-in Bed, with Suitable | |
Furniture for their Lying-Chamber, they will be so Fretful and Discontented, | |
as it will endanger their Miscarrying; Again to redouble the Charge, there must | |
be Gossiping, not only with Costly Banquets at the Christening and Churching, | |
but they have Gossiping all the time of their Lying-in, for then there is a | |
more set or formal Gossiping than at other ordinary times. But I fear, that if | |
this Letter come to the view of our Sex besides your self, they will throw more | |
Spiteful or Angry Words out of their mouths against me, than the Unbeleeving | |
Jews did hard Stones out of their hands at Saint Stephan; but the best is, they | |
cannot Kill me with their Reproaches, I speak but the Truth of what I have | |
observed amongst many of our Sex; Wherefore, Pray Madam, help to Defend me, as | |
being my Friend, and I yours, for I shall Continue as long as I live, | |
Madam, Your Ladyship's most Faithful and Humble Servant. | |
XCIV. | |
MADAM, | |
IT is to be observed, that Absence Cools Affections, and Presence Heats them, | |
and Long Presence Burns them up, like as the Sun the Creatures of the Earth, | |
which are Cold in his Absence, Warmed with his Presence, and Burnt with his | |
Continuance; But some Affections live always, as at the Poles, Frozen, and as | |
in a Twy-light, wherein they can never be Seen Perfectly, and the Natures of | |
such men for the most part are like Bears, Dull and Ravenous, which shows, that | |
Bears are of Cold Constitutions, living always in the Coldest Climates, for | |
Cold Congeals the Spirits, Thickens the Skin, Stupefies the Senses, but | |
Sharpen's the Hungry Appetite; and Different Extremes for the most part meet in | |
Like Effects, for Extreme Heat Exhales or Exhausts the Spirits, Dimm's or | |
Weakens the Senses, Hardens the Skin, and Quickens the Appetite of Drought, and | |
Burning and Freezing is Equally Painful, and the Pains are somewhat Alike, as | |
both Piercing and Pricking, as if Cold and Heat were Sharply pointed; but a Hot | |
Love is better than a Cold one, although a Cold Love is likelier to last | |
Longer, like those that live in Hot Countries, who are not half so Long-Lived | |
as those that live in Cold, the reason is, that the Spirits Exhaling out of the | |
Body, carry out Life with them, whereas the Spirits being only Congealed, | |
Remain still within the Body, and Life keeps in, and lives with them, for | |
Spirits are Life. But leaving Hot and Cold Love, which is Luke-warm, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XCV. | |
MADAM, | |
IN your last Letter you were pleased to let me know, how Bravely the Lady F. | |
O. lives, both for Rich Clothing, Costly Houshold-furniture, and Great | |
Equipage; truly, for those that have a sufficient Estate to Maintain it, and a | |
Noble Title to Countenance it, 'tis very Commendable and Honourable to live in | |
Grandeur, otherwise it is Prodigal, Vain, Base, and Foolish: Prodigal, to live | |
Beyond their Means or Wealth; Vain, to make a Fluttering show with the Wast of | |
their Estate; Base, to Usurp the Grandeur of Noble and Princely Titles; and | |
Foolish, to make Enemies through Envy to their Vanity, to Triumph on them in | |
their Poverty, which Poverty must of Necessity follow their Unnecessary Wast, | |
if they have not a Staple-stock, so that they of Necessity must Break and | |
become Bankrupts, in which Condition they will be Despised, and so much the | |
more as they were Envied for their Vain Bravery, and Hated for their Base | |
Usurped Grandeur, the more they are Scorned in their Poverty, and Laughed at in | |
their Misery. Indeed, it is a Ridiculous Sight to see any live Above their | |
Wealth or Dignity; 'tis like mercenary Stage-players, that Act the parts of | |
Princes, but none of the Spectators give them the Respect and Honour due to | |
Great Princes, knowing they are but Poor Players and Mean Persons; but true | |
Noble Persons indeed, as they will not Quit any thing that belongs to their | |
Dignities, so they will not Usurp any thing that belongs not to their Titles, | |
and when such Persons chance to fall into Misery, yet they fall not into Scorn, | |
but Pity and Compassion will wait upon them, or meet them with Respect; but in | |
all Conditions, Degrees, and Dignities, it is better to Live Wisely than | |
Bravely, and to Live Wisely, is, to Spend Moderately, to Live Plentifully, | |
Easily, Peaceably, Pleasantly, and so Happily; to Spend Moderately, is, to keep | |
within the Bounds of their Estate, not to go beyond the Limits of their Comings | |
in; to Live Plentifully, is, to spend nothing Vainly, nor to spare nothing | |
Useful, or Proper for their Quality; to Live Peaceably, is, to live Privately, | |
free from troublesome Company, as Idle Visitors, and Trencher-Guests, who | |
Censure every Word or Act to the Worst Intent and Sense, and Slander every one | |
that is Better than themselves; to Live Easily, is, to have their Family in | |
Order and Obedience, and all their Affairs to be done Methodically; to Live | |
Pleasantly, is, to have such Delights as the Estate will Afford them, and such | |
Pastimes as are Agreeable to their Humours, and the Company of Sociable and | |
Conversable Friends; also to Banish all Perturbed Passions, and Extravagant | |
Appetites, all which is to Live Wisely, as your Ladyship doth; But whether the | |
Lady F. O. Live Wisely, I will leave to your Ladyships Judgment, who dwells | |
Near her, and I at a Greater Distance, although not from your Ladyship, for my | |
Thoughts and Affections are always with you, so as you are Attended and | |
Waited on by the Soul of, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and humble Servant. | |
XCVI. | |
MADAM, | |
I Wonder that Sir F. E. should turn his Back to his Enemy, as you say you | |
heard he did, when heretofore he Out-faced his Enemies; wherefore, surely he | |
either thought those Enemies he Turned from, their Cause to be Juster, or he | |
had some Burden upon his Conscience that was Unrepented of, and knowing in | |
himself, he was not fit to Die at that present, endeavoured to Preserve his | |
Life by a Flight; or else he thought he might do some Greater Service if he | |
Preserved his Life, whereas in that Fight he should Die Unprofitably; or else | |
it was a Panick Fear, that may seize sometimes on Men of Great Courage, | |
although True, Sober, Valiant Men are Seldom, if Ever, Seized with that Fear, | |
by reason they never Venture their Lives but for Honour, and Honour forbids a | |
Masker'd Flight, though not a Noble Retreat, for it is as Commendable to make a | |
Wise and Honourable Retreat, as to Fight a Just Quarrel. But I have observed, | |
that as some are Wise, Honest, and Valiant, or rather Courageous by Fits, so | |
some are Courageous and Cowardly in several Causes or Cases; as for Example, | |
Some have Courage to venture Hanging for Robbing or Stealing, yet are afraid of | |
a Cudgel, to Fight although but at Cuffs; others have Courage to Betray a | |
Friend, but dare not Assist or Conceal a Persecuted Friend, others have Courage | |
to Commit Treason, yet dare not Fight an Enemy, and many the like; also some | |
are very Courageous in a Passion, and mere Cowards when their Passion is over; | |
also Fear makes some Stout and Courageous, and others Cowards, and so doth | |
Drink, and the like; also Covetousness of Wealth makes more Courageous than any | |
Thing or Cause else, for an Army of Soldiers, if they know they shall be | |
Enriched by the Victory, will Fight without all Fear, nay, so as to Die Every | |
man; but Propose to them Honour, or their Countries Safety, or their Kings | |
Right, and they for the most part will Run away, unless they be sure to be | |
Hanged for it, and then perchance they may Fight for Life, rather than Run away | |
to be sure to Die, for by Staying there is some Hopes, whereas by Running away | |
there is none; but if they fear not to be Caught, they Fly. But the Commanders | |
that Fight more for Honour than Spoil, most commonly Stick to the Fight, | |
fearing a Disgrace more than Death, and loving Fame more than Life. But the | |
truth is, that generally there are more Cowards than Valiant Men, and more that | |
have Courage to be Knaves, than to be Honest Men, for it requires both Wisdom | |
and Valour to be Truly Honest, and Uprightly Just, but few have that Noble and | |
Prudent Breeding, as to Know what is Truly Just, Honest and Valiant, insomuch | |
as many Commit Errors and Crimes, and so are Disgraced, merely through | |
Ignorance, whereas did they Know and rightly Understand the Grounds or | |
Principles of Honesty and Honour, they would not hazard Infamy; But there are | |
more that have not Breeding according to their Natures, than Natures according | |
to their Breeding, for alas, the World wants Good Instructors, which is the | |
cause of the Follies, Errors, Faults, and Crimes in Men and their Actions. But | |
leaving the Generality, I am sorry for the Disgrace of Sir F. E. although it | |
may be hoped, he may Recover himself out of this Reproach, by some Eminent, | |
Honourable, and Valiant Action, which will be a Grave to Bury this Disgrace, | |
for there are ways and means for men to Recover a Lost Honour, but none for | |
Women, for if once they Lose their Honour, it is Lost for Ever without | |
Redemption, wherefore every one is to regard their own Actions. But lest I | |
should Commit an Error or Fault, in tyring you with so Long a Letter, I rest, | |
Madam, Your faithful Friend and Servant. | |
XCVII. | |
MADAM, | |
THe Lady G. R. and the Lady A. N. in a Visiting meeting, fell into a Discourse | |
of Great Princes and Noble Persons, where the Lady G. R. said, that Great | |
Princes and Noble Persons should or ought to have a Grandeur in their | |
Behaviours, Habits, Discourses, Attendance, Life and Renown, as to their | |
Persons, Garments, Speech, Ceremony, Actions and Fame, according to their | |
Titles, Births and Fortunes; Nay, said the Lady A. N. not according to Fortune, | |
for Misfortune or Ill For |