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of your reason, as I in mine do those of my conscience. If I thought myself in an error, I would retract it; I am sure that I suffer for them; and Milton makes even the devil fay, "That no "creature is in love with pain." For my morals betwixt man and man, 1 am not to be my own judge; I appeal to the world, if I have deceived or defrauded any man: and for my private conversation, they who see me every day can be the best witnesses, whether or no it be blameless and inoffensive. Hitherto I have no reason to complain that men of either party shun my company. I have never been an impudent beggar at the doors of noblemen: my visits have indeed been too rare to be unaccepiable, and but just enough to testify mv gratitude for their bounty; which I have frequently received, but always unasked, as themselves will witness. I have written more than I needed to you on this subject; for, 1 dare say, you justify me to yourself. As for that which I first intended for the principal subjrct of this letter, which is my friend's paflion, and his design of marriage, on better consideration I have changed my rnind: for having had the honour to see my dear friend Wycherley's letter to him on that occasion, I find nothing to be added or amended. But, as well as I love Mr. Wychcrley, I confess I love myself so well, 1 will not (hew how much I am inferior to him in wit and judgment, by undertaking any thing after him. There is Moses and the prophets in his counsel. Jupiter and Juno, as the poets tell us, made Tircsias their umpire, in a certain mei ry disputewhich fell outjn heaven betwixt : Tirefias, you know, had b.-cn of 3th sexes, and therefore was a proper Our friend Mr. WycherVv is ompetent an arbitrator: lie has , and a lied man,

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again. If my friend will adventure after this, I can but wish him a good wind, a* being his; and,

My dear Mr. Dennis,

Yours, Sec.

§ III. Queen Ann BoleY x's la/} Letter to King Henry VIII.

Sir, Your grace's displeasure and my imprisonment are things so strange unto me, as what to write, or what to excuse, I amjaltogether ignorant: Whereas you fend unto me (willing me to confess a truth, and soobtain your favour) by such a one, whom you know to be mine ancient professed enemy; I no sooner received this message by him, than I rightly conceived your meaning; and if, as you fay, confessingatruthindeed may procure my safety, I shall, with all willingness and duty, perform your command. But let not your grace ever imagine, that your poor wife will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault, where not so much as a thought thereof preceded. And to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in Ann Boleyn; with which name and place I could willingly have contented myself, if God and your grace's pleasure had been so pleased* Neither did I at anv time so far forget myself in my exaltation, or received queen ship, but that I always look"d for such an alteration as I now find ; for the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation than your grace's fancy, the lead alteration I knew was fit and fuliicicnt to draw that fancy to some other object. You have chosen me, from a low estate, to be your queen and companion, far beyond my desert or desire. If then you found me worthy of such honour, good your grace let not any light fancy, or bad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw your princely favour from me ; neither let that stair), that unworthy stain, of a disloyal heart towards your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on \our mostdutiful wife, and the infant princess your daughter. Try me, good king, but let me have a lawful trial, for mv truth sliall fear no open (hame; the» stuil you fee ehherrainc innocence cleared, your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped, or my guilt openly declared. So that whatsoever God or you maydetermineof me, your grace may be freed from an open censure, and mine offences being so lawfully proved, your grace is at liberty, both before God and man, notonly toexecute worthy punishment on me as an unlawful wife, but to follow your affection, already settled on that party, for whose sake I am now as I am; whose name I could, some good while since, have pointed unto, your grace notbeing ignorantof my suspicion therein.


But if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death, but an infamous slander must bring you the enjoying of your desired happiness; then I desire of God, that he will pardon your great sin therein, and likewise mine enemies, the instruments thereof; and that he will not call you to a strict account for your unprincely and cruel usage of me, athis general judgment-feat, where both you and myself must shortly appear, and in whose judgment I doubt not (whatsoever the world may think os me) mine innocence shall be openly known, and sufficiently cleared.

My last and only request (hall be, that myself may only bear the burden of your grace's displeasure, and that it may not touch the innocent souls of those poor gentlemen, who (as I understand) are likewise in strait imprisonment for my sake. If ever I have found favour in your sight, if ever the name of Ann Boleyn hath been pleasing in your ears, then let me obtain this request; and I will so leave to trouble your grace any farther, with mine earnest prayers to the Trinity to have your grace in his good keeping, and lo direct you in all your actions.

From my doleful prison in the Tower, this 6th of May.

Your loyal and ever faithful wife,
Ann Boleyn.

§ 112. 5/rWALTER Raleigh to Prince

Henry, Son of James I.

Mny it please your Highness,

The following lines are addressed to

your highness, from a man who values

his liberty, and a very small fortune in a remote part of this island, under the present constitution, above all the riches and honours that he could anywhere enjoy under any other establishment. Yob see, Sir, the doctrines that are latelycome into the world, and how far the phrase has obtained, of calling your royal father God's vicegerent; which ill men have turned both to the dishonour of God, and the impeachment of his majesty's goodness. They adjoin vicegerency to the idea of being all-powerful, and not to that of being all-good. His majesty's wisdom, it is to be hoped, will save him from the snare that may lie undergrossadulations ; but your youth, and the thirst of praise which I have observed in you, may possibly mislead you tohearken to these charmers,who would conduct your noble nature into tyranny. Be careful, O my prince 1 hear them not; fly from their deceits. You are in the succession to a throne, from whence no evil can be imputed to you, but all good must be conveyed from you. Your father is called the vicegerent of Heaven; while he is good, he is the vicegerent of Heaven. Shall men have authority from the Fountain of good to do evil ? No, my prince ; let mean and degenerate spirits, which want benevolence, suppose your power impaired by a disability of doing injuries. If want of power to do ill be an incapacity in a prince, with reverence be it spoken, it is an incapacity he has in common with the Deity. Let me not doubt but all pleas, which do not carry in them the mutual happiness of prince and people, will appear as absurd to your great understanding, as disagreeable to your noble nature. Exert yourself, O generous prince, against such sycophants, in the glorious cause of liberty; and assume such an ambition worthy of you, to secure yoursellow-creatures from slavery; from a condition as much below that of brutes, as to act without reason is less miserable than to act against it. Preserve to your future subjects the divine right of being free agents; and to your own royal house, thedivine rightof being their benefactors. Believe me, my prince, there is no other right can flow frojn God. VVhJleyourhighnessisform


Ing yourself for a throne, consider the
law a» so many common places in your
study of the science of government;
When you mean nothing but justice,
they are an ease and help to you. This
way of thinking is what gave men the
glorious appellations of deliverers and
fathers of their country; this made the
sight of them rouze their beholders into
acclamations, and mankind incapableof
bearing their appearance, without ap-
plauding it as a benefit. Consider the
inexpressible advantages which will ever
attend your highness, while you make
the power of rendering men happy the
measure of your actions. While this is
your impulse, how easily will that power
be extended! The glance of your eye
will give gladness, and your very sen-
tence have a force of bounty. What-
ever some men would insinuate, you
have lost your subjects when you have
lost their inclinations. You are to pre-
side over the minds, not the bodies of
men; the foul is the essence of the man,
and you cannot have the true man
against his inclinations. Chuse therefore
to be the king, or the conqueror of your
people; itmaybesubmiffion, but it can-
not be obedience, that is passive.
I am, Sir,
Your highness's

most faithful servant,

Walltr Raleigh

$ 113. Charles I. to the Earl of Strafford,

Strafford, The misfortune that has fallen upon you by the strange mistaking and conjuncture of these times being such, that J must lay by the thought of employing you hereafter in my affairs; yet I cannot satisfy myself in honour or conscience, without assuring you (now in the midst of your troubles) that, upon the word of a king, you shall not suffer in life, honour, or fortune. This is but justice, and therefore a very mean reward from a master to so faithful and able a servant, as you have showed yourself to be; yet it is as much, as I conceive the present times will permit, though none shall hinder me from being,

Your constant faithful friend,

Charles R.

§ 114. Earlof St% A? FOUD to hit Son.

My dearest Will, These are the last lines that you are to receive from a father that tenderly loves you. I wish there were a greater leisure to impart my mind unto you; but our merciful God will supply all things by his grace, and guide and protect you in all your ways; to whose infinite goodness I bequeath you; and therefore be not discouraged, but serve him, and trust in him, and he will preserve and prosper you in all things. Be sure you give all respects to my wife, that hath ever had a great love unto you, and therefore will be well becoming you. Never be wanting in your love and care to your sisters, but let them ever be most dear unto you: for that will give others cause to esteem and respect you for it, and is a duty that you owe them isl the memory ofyour excellent mother and myself: therefore your care and affection to them must be the very same that you are to have of yourself; and the like regard must you have to your youngest sister; for indeed you owe it her also, both for her father and mother's fake. Sweet Will, be careful to take the advice of those friends, which are by me desired to ad vise you for your education. Serve God diligently morning and evening, and recommend yourself unto him, and have him before your eyes in all your ways. With patience hear the instructions of those friends I leave with you, and diligently follow their counsel. For, till you come by time to have experience in the world, it will be far more safe to trust to their judgments than your own. Lose not the timeof your youth, but gather those seeds of virtue and knowledge which may be of use to yourself, and comfort to your friends, for the rest of your life. And that this may be the better effected, attend thereto with patience, and be sure to correct and refrain yourself from anger. Suffer not sorrow to cast you down; but with chearsulness and good courage go on the race you have to run in all sobriety and truth. Be sure with an hallowed care to have respect to all the commandments of God, and give not yourself to neglect them in the least things, lest by degrees you come to forget


get them in the greatest; for the heart of man is deceitful above all things. And in all your duties and devotions towards God, rather perform them joyfully than pensively, for God loves a chearful giver. For your religion, let it be directed according to that which (hall be taught by those which are in God's church, the proper teachers thereof, rather than that you ever either fancy one to yourself, or be led by men that are singular in their own opinion, and delight to go ways of their own finding out: for you will certainly find soberness and truth in the one, and much unsteadiness and vanity in the other. The king, I trust, will deal graciously with you ; restore you those honours and that fortune, which a distempered time hath deprived you of, together with the life of your father; which I rather advise might be a new gift and, creation from himself, than by any other means, to the end you may pay the thanks to him without having obligations to any other. Be sure to avoid, as much as you can, to enquire after those that have been (harp in their judgments towards me, and I charge you never to suffer thought of revenge to enter into your heart; but be careful to be informed who were my friends in this prosecution, and to them apply yourself to make them your friends also; and on such you may rely, and bestow much of your conversation amongst them. And God Alrnighty, of his infinite goodness, bless you and your children's children; and his fame goodness bless your sisters in Jilce manner, perfect you in every good work, and giveyou right understandings jnall things. Amen.

Your most loving father,

T. Wenfwortb.

§ 11C. King C H A R L E s / he Sccnnii's Letter to the Duke of Yo R K in his Exile. I have already given you my reasons at large, why I think it fit that you ihould absent yourself for some time beyond sea. As s am utterly sorry for the occasion, so you may be sure I (hall never desire it longer, than it will be absolutely necessary both for your good and my service. In the mean time, I think it proper to give you, under my hand,

that I expect this compliance from you, and 1 desire it may be as soon as conveniently you can. You may easily believe with what trouble I write this to you, there being nothing I am more sensible of than the constant kindness you have ever had for me; and I hope you are so just to me, as to be assured that no absence, or any thing else, can everchange me from ever being truly and kindly yours,

Charles Rex.

§ 116. ^ueeaAKKZtotheDuieo/MAKLEoRough after the ViSlory gfOudenarde.

I want words to express the joy I have that you are well after your glorious success, for which, next to Almighty God, my thanks are due to you: and indeed I can never fay enough for all the great and faithful services you have ever done me. But be so just as to believe I am as truly sensible of them as a grateful heart can be, and snail be ready to shew it upon all occasions. I hope you cannot doubt of my esteem and friendship for you, nor think, because Idisserwith you in some things, it is for want of either. No; I do assure you, if you were here, I am sure you would not think me so much in the wrong in some things, as I fear you do now. I am afraid my letter should come too late to London, and therefore dare fay no more, but that I pray God Almighty to continue his protection over you, and send you safe home again : and be assured I shall ever be sincerely, &c.


§ 117. DttieofMATLu-BOg.ovcKtoQueeit Anne.

Madam, By what I hear from London, I find your Majesty is pleased to think, that when I have reflected, I must be os opinion, that you are in the right in living Mr. Hill the Earl of Essex's regiment. I beg your Majesty will be so just tome, as not to think I can be so unreasonable as tobe mortified to thedegree that lam, if it proceeded only from this one thing; for I (hall always be ready and glad to do every thing that is agreeable to you, after I have represented what may be a


prejudice to your service. But this is only one of a great many mortifications that I have met with. And as I may not have many opportunities of writing to you, let me beg of your Majesty to reflect what your own peopleand therest of the world must think, who have been witnesses of the love, zeal, and duty, with which I have served you, when they shall see, that after all I have done, it has not been able to protect me against the malice of a bed-chamber woman. Your Majesty will allow me, on this occasion, to remind you of what I writ to you the last campaign, of the certain knowledge I had of Mrs. MaSham's having assured Mr. Harley, that I should receive such constant mortifications, as should make it impossible for me to continue in your service. God Almighty and the whole world are my witnesses, with what care and pains I have served yon,, more than twenty years; and I was resolved, if possible, to have struggled with difficulties to the end of this war. But the many instances I have had of your Majesty's great change to me, has so broke my spirits, that I must beg, as the greatest and last favour, that you would approveof my retiring, so that I may employ the little time I have to live, in making my just acknowledgments to God, for the protection he has •been pleased to give me : and your Majesty may be assured, that my zeal for you and my country is so great, that in my retirement I shall daily pray for your prosperity, and that those who shall serve you as faithfully as I have done, may never feel the hard return that I have met with.

$ 118, From the celebrated Mr: R o w E, to the Right Hon. the Countess of Hertford.

Written the day before her death.

Madam, This is the last letter you will ever receive from me, the last assurance I siiall give you on earth, of a sincere and steadfast friendship; but when we meet again, I hope it will be in the heights of immortal love and extasy. Mine perhaps may be the glad spirit to congratu

late your safe arrival to the happy {bores. Heaven can witness how sincere ray concern for your happiness is: thither I have sent my ardent wishes, tS-it you, may be secured from the flattering delusions of the world; and, after your pious example has been long a blessing to mankind, may calmly resign your breath, and enter the confines of unmolested joy.—1 am now taking my farewell of you here, but it is a short adieu, with full persuasion that we shall soon meet again.—But oh ! in what elevation of happiness !—In what enlargement of mind, and what perfection of every faculty !—What transporting reflections shall we make on the advantages of which we shall be eternally possessed !— To him that loved us in his blood shall we ascribe immortal glory, dominion, and praise for ever: this is all my salvation, all my hope. That name in whom the Gentiles trust, in whom all the families of the earth are blefled, ii now my glorious, my unfailing confidence. In his worth alone I expect to stand justified before infinite puntyand justice.—How poor are my hopes, if I depended on those works, which my vanity, or the partiality of men, have called good; and which, if examined by divine purity, would prove, perhaps, but specious sins! The best actions of my Use would be found defective, if brought to the test of that unblemifned holiness j in whose sight the heavens are not clean. Where were my hopes, but for a redeemer's merit and atonement? — How desperate, how undone my condition !—With the utmost advantages I could boast, I Should step back and tremble at the thoughts of appearing before the unblemished majesty! —Oh Jesus! What harmony dwells in thy name! Celestial joy and immortal life are in the sound :—Let angels set thee to their golden harps, let the ransomed nations for ever magnify thee.— What a dream is mortal life! What shadows are all the objects of mortal fense! All the glories of mortality (my much beloved friend) will be nothing in your view at the awful hour of death, when you must be separated from this lower creation, and enter on the borders of the immortal world.


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