rather tainted with being so much where compliment or praising is best learned; but I conclude, that often what one heartily wishes to be in a friend, one is apt to believe is so. The effect is not nought towards me, whom it animates to have a true not false title to the least virtue you are disposed to attribute to me. Yet I am far from such a vigour of mind as surmounts the secret discontent so hard a destiny as mine has fixed in my breast; but there are times the mind can hardly feel displeasure, as while such friendly conversa'tion entertained it; then a grateful sense moves one to express the courtesy.

If I could contemplate the conducts of providence with the uses you do, it would give ease indeed, and no disastrous events should much affect us. The new scenes of each day make me often conclude myself very void of temper and reason, that I still shed tears of sorrow and not of joy, that so good a man is landed safe on the happy shore of a blessed eternity; doubtless he is at rest, though I find none without him, so true a partner he was in all my joys and griefs; I trust the Almighty will pass by this my infirmity; I speak it in respect to the world, from whose inticing delights I can now be better weaned. I was too rich in possessions whilst I possessed him: all relish is now gone, I bless God for it, and pray, and ask of all good people (do it for me from such you 'know are so), also to pray that I may more and more turn the stream of my affections upwards, and set my heart upon the ever-satisfying perfections of God; not starting at his darkest provilences, but remembering continually either his

glory, justice, or power, is advanced by every one of them, and that mercy is over all his works, as we shall one day with ravishing delight see: in the meantime I endeavour to suppress all wild imaginations a melancholy fancy is apt to let in; and say with the man in the gospel, "I believe, help thou my unbelief."

1

If any thing I say suggest to you matter for a pious reflection, I have not hurt you but ease myself, by letting loose some of my crowded thoughts. I must not finish without telling you, I have not the book you mention of Seraphical Meditations of the bishop of Bath and Wells *, and should willingly see one here, since you design the present. I have sent you the last sheet of your papers, as the surest course; you can return it with the book. You would, sir, have been welcome to lord Bedford, who expresses himself hugely obliged to the bishop of Ely your friend; to whom you justly give the title of good, if the character he has very generally belongs to him. And who is good is happy; for he is only truly miserable, or wretchedly so, that has no joy here, nor hopes for any hereafter. I believe it may be near Christmas before my lord Bedford removes for the winter, but I have not yet discoursed him about it, nor how long he desires our company; so whether I will come before him, or make one company, I know not; he shall please himself, for I have no will in these matters, nor can like one thing or way better

* Kenn, bishop of Bath and Wells, of an ascetic course of life, and yet of a very lively temper.

+ Turner, bishop of Ely, sincere and good natured, of too quick imagination, and too defective a judgment.

than another, if the use and conveniencies be alike to the young creatures, whose service is all the business I have in this world; and for their good I intend all diligence in the power of, sir, your obliged friend to serve you.

I am mightily in arrear; pray let me know what, and if I shall direct the paying it, or stay till I see you.

LETTER IX.

LADY RUSSELL TO DR. FITZWILLIAM.

15th January, 1685-6. I PRESUME, doctor, you are now so settled in your retirement (for such it is in comparison of that you can obtain at London) that you are at leisure to peruse the inclosed papers; hereafter I will send them once a week, or oftener if you desire it.

Yesterday the lord Delamere passed his trial, and was acquitted*. I do bless God that he has caused some stop to the effusion of blood has been shed of late in this poor land. But, doctor, as diseased bodies turn the best nourishments, and even cordials, into the same sour humour that con

* Henry Booth, lord Delamere, tried for partaking in Monmouth's rebellion. Finch, solicitor-general, was very violent against him, but Saxon, the only positive evidence, appearing perjured, he was acquitted by his peers. He afterwards strenuously promoted the Revolution; in 1690, was created earl of Warrington; and died 1693.

sumes and eats them up, just so do I. When I should rejoice with them that do rejoice, I seek a corner to weep in. I find I am capable of no more gladness; but every new circumstance, the very comparing my night of sorrow after such a day, with theirs of joy, does from a reflection of one kind or other, rack my uneasy mind. Though I am far from wishing the close of theirs like mine, yet I cannot refrain giving some time to lament mine was not like theirs; but I certainly took too much delight in my lot, and would too willingly have built my tabernacle here; for which I hope my punishment will end with life.

The accounts from France are more and more astonishing; the perfecting the work is vigorously pursued, and by this time completed it is thought; all without exception having a day given them; only these I am going to mention have found so much grace as I will tell you. The countess du Roy* is permitted with two daughters to go within fourteen days to her husband, who is in Denmark, in that king's service; but five other of her chil dren are put into monasteries. Mareschal Schombergt and his wife are commanded to be prisoners

*Countess du Roy, wife of Frederic Charles du Roy, knight of the elephant, and generalissimo to the king of Denmark; his daughter, Henrietta, was the second wife of William Wentworth, earl of Strafford.

+ Frederic de Schomberg, marshal of France, was created by king William, duke Schomberg, &c. 1689; killed at the battle of the Boyne, 1st July 1690. He was son of count Schomberg, by lord Dudley's daughter. The count was killed, with several sons, at the battle of Prague, 1620. The duke was a man of great calmness, application, and conduct; of true judgment, exact probity, and an humble obliging temper.

in their house, in some remote part of France appointed them. My uncle and his wife are permitted to come out of France. This I was told for a truth last night, but I hope it needs a confirmation.

It is enough to sink the strongest heart to read the relations are sent over. How the children are torn from their mothers and sent into monasteries; their mothers to another: the husband to prison, or the galleys. These are amazing providences, doctor! God out of infinite mercy strengthen weak believers. I am too melancholy an intelligencer to be very long, so will hasten to conclude, first telling you lord Talbot* is come out of Ireland, and brought husbands for his daughters-in-law; one was married on Tuesday to a lord Roffe, the other lord is Dungan; Waldgrave that married the king's daughter, is made a lord t. The brief for the poor protestants was not sealed on Wednesday, as was hoped it would be: the chancellor bid it be laid by, when it was offered him to seal. I am very really, doctor, your affectionate friend and servant.

The persecution of the protestants induced him to leave France and enter into king William's service. He was 82 years old at his death. His son Charles was mortally wounded at the battle of Marsiglia, 24th Sept. 1693.

Lord Richard Talbot, afterwards earl of Tyrconnel; a

papist.

+ Henry lord Waldgrave, of Chewton, married the lady Henrietta Fitz-James, natural daughter to king James II. by Arabella Churchill, sister to John duke of Marlborough; he retired to France in 1689, and died at Paris the same year.