ng of the French tongue; but
she does not seem to have made any deep study of the classics. In 1643
she joined the Court at Oxford, and was made one of the Maids of Honour
to Henrietta Maria, whom she afterwards attended in exile. At Paris she
met the Marquis of Newcastle, who married her in that city in 1645. From
Paris they went to Rotterdam, she leaving the Queen to follow her
husband's fortunes; and after stopping at Rotterdam and Brabant for
short periods, they settled at Antwerp.

At the Restoration she returned to England with her husband, and
employed her time in writing letters, plays, poems, philosophical
discourses, and orations. There is a long catalogue of her works in
Ballard's _Memoirs_, but all published at a date subsequent to 1653.
However, from Anthony Wood and other sources one gathers somewhat
different details of her life and writings; and the book to which
Dorothy refers here and in Letter 21, is probably the _Poems and
Fancies_, an edition of which was published, I believe, in this year
[1653]. Many of her verses are more strangely incomprehensible than
anything even in the poetry of to-day. Take, for instance, a poem of
four lines, from the _Poems and Fancies_, entitled--

THE JOINING OF SEVERAL FIGUR'D ATOMS MAKES
OTHER FIGURES.

Several figur'd Atoms well agreeing
When joined, do give another figure being.
For as those figures joined several ways
The fabrick of each several creature raise.

This seems to be a rhyming statement of the Atomic theory, but whether
it is a poem or a fancy we should find it hard to decide. It is not,
however, an unfair example of Lady Newcastle's fantastic style. Lady
Newcastle died in 1673, and was buried in Westminster Abbey,--"A wise,
witty, and learned Lady, which her many books do well testify."

SIR,--I received your letter to-day, when I thought it almost impossible
that I should be sensible of anything but my father's sickness and my
own affliction in it. Indeed, he was then so dangerously ill that we
could not reasonably hope he should outlive this day; yet he is now, I
thank God, much better, and I am come so much to myself with it, as to
undertake a long letter to you whilst I watch by him. Towards the latter
end it will be excellent stuff, I believe; but, alas! you may allow me
to dream sometimes. I have had so little sleep since my father was sick
that I am never thoroughly awake. Lord,