de's Churchyard_.

Oh Heaven! is this my new Home? my Heart sinkes alreadie. After the
swete fresh Ayre of _Sheepscote_, and the Cleanliness, and the Quiet
and the pleasant Smells, Sightes, and Soundes, alle whereof Mr.
_Milton_ enjoyed to the Full as keenlie as I, saying they minded him of
_Paradise,--_how woulde _Rose_ pitie me, could she view me in this
close Chamber, the Floor whereof of dark, uneven Boards, must have
beene layd, methinks, three hundred Years ago; the oaken Pannells,
utterlie destitute of Polish and with sundrie Chinks; the Bed with dull
brown Hangings, lined with as dull a greene, occupying Half the Space;
and Half the Remainder being filled with dustie Books, whereof there
are Store alsoe in every other Place. This Mirror, I should thinke,
belonged to faire _Rosamond_. And this Arm-chair to King _Lew_. Over
the Chimnie hangs a ruefull Portrait,--maybe of _Grotius_, but I
shoulde sooner deeme it of some Worthie before the Flood. Onlie one
Quarter of the Casement will open, and that upon a Prospect, oh
dolefulle! of the Churchyarde! Mr. _Milton_ had need be as blythe as
he was all the Time we were at _Sheepscote_, or I shall be buried in
that same Churchyarde within the Twelvemonth. 'Tis well he has stepped
out to see a Friend, that I may in his Absence get ridd of this Fit of
the Dismalls. I wish it may be the last. What would _Mother_ say to
his bringing me to such a Home as this? I will not think. Soe this is
_London_! How diverse from the "towred Citie" of my Husband's versing!
and of his Prose too; for as he spake, by the way, of the Disorders of
our Time, which extend even into eache domestick Circle, he sayd that
alle must, for a While, appear confused to our imperfect View, just as
a mightie Citie unto a Stranger who shoulde beholde around him huge,
unfinished Fabrics, the Plan whereof he could but imperfectlie make
out, amid the Builders' disorderlie Apparatus; but that, _from afar_,
we mighte perceive glorious Results from party Contentions,--Freedom
springing up from Oppression, Intelligence succeeding Ignorance, Order
following Disorder, just as that same Traveller looking at the Citie
from a distant Height, should beholde Towres, and Spires glistering
with Gold and Marble, Streets stretching in lessening Perspectives, and
Bridges flinging their white Arches over noble Rivers. But what of
this saw we all along the _Oxford_ Road? Firstlie, there was noe
commanding Height; se