ll
of "evil speaking, lying, and slandering," as to be quite unworthy of
quotation. From this we may take it, however, that he was born at
Gormanchester, in Cromwell's county, was educated at Emmanuel College,
Cambridge, and that before he came to London his chief cure of souls was
at Finchingfield in Essex. These, and the records of his London
preaching, are the only facts in his life's history which have come to
my notice.

My Lord Whitelocke did go to Sweden, as Dorothy surmises; setting sail
from Plymouth with one hundred honest men, on October 26, 1653, or very
soon afterwards, as one may read in his journal of the progress of the
Embassy. That he should fill this office, appears to have been proposed
to him by Cromwell in September of this year.

An Act of Parliament to abolish the Chancery was indeed passed in the
August of this year. Well may Lord Keble sore lament, and the rest of
the world rejoice, at such news. Joseph Keble was a well-known law
reporter, a son of Serjeant Richard Keble. He was a Fellow of All Souls,
and a Bencher of Gray's Inn; and, furthermore, was one of the Lords
Commissioners of the Great Seal from 1648-1654. There was "some debate,"
says Whitelocke, "whether they should be styled 'Commissioners' or
'Lords Commissioners,'" and though the word _Lords_ was far less
acceptable at this time than formerly, yet that they might not seem to
lessen their own authority, nor the honour of their office constituted
by them, they voted the title to be "Lords Commissioners."

SIR,--If want of kindness were the only crime I exempted from pardon,
'twas not that I had the least apprehension you could be guilty of it;
but to show you (by excepting only an impossible thing) that I excepted
nothing. No, in earnest, I can fancy no such thing of you, or if I
could, the quarrel would be to myself; I should never forgive my own
folly that let me to choose a friend that could be false. But I'll leave
this (which is not much to the purpose) and tell you how, with my usual
impatience, I expected your letter, and how cold it went to my heart to
see it so short a one. 'Twas so great a pain to me that I am resolv'd
you shall not feel it; nor can I in justice punish you for a fault
unwillingly committed. If I were your enemy, I could not use you ill
when I saw Fortune do it too, and in gallantry and good nature both, I
should think myself rather obliged to protect you from her injury (if it
lay in my power) than do