hat are promised
with it. Is this not very like preaching? Well, 'tis too good for you;
you shall have no more on't. I am afraid you are not mortified enough
for such discourse to work upon (though I am not of my brother's
opinion, neither, that you have no religion in you). In earnest, I never
took anything he ever said half so ill, as nothing, sure, is so great an
injury. It must suppose one to be a devil in human shape. Oh, me! now I
am speaking of religion, let me ask you is not his name Bagshawe that
you say rails on love and women? Because I heard one t'other day
speaking of him, and commending his wit, but withal, said he was a
perfect atheist. If so, I can allow him to hate us, and love, which,
sure, has something of divine in it, since God requires it of us. I am
coming into my preaching vein again. What think you, were it not a good
way of preferment as the times are? If you'll advise me to it I'll
venture. The woman at Somerset House was cried up mightily. Think on't.

Dear, I am yours.

_Letter 54._--Temple has really started on his journey, and is now past
Brickhill, far away in the north of England. The journey to Ireland was
made _via_ Holyhead in those days as it is now. It was a four days'
journey to Chester, and no good road after. The great route through
Wales to Holyhead was in such a state that in 1685 the Viceroy going to
Ireland was five hours in travelling the fourteen miles from St. Asaph
to Conway; between Conway and Beaumaris he walked; and his lady was
carried in a litter. A carriage was often taken to pieces at Conway, and
carried to the Menai Straits on the peasants' shoulders round the
dangerous cliff of Penmaenmawr. Mr. B. and Mr. D. remain mysterious
symbolic initials of gossip and scandalmongering. St. Gregory's near St.
Paul's, was a church entirely destroyed by the great fire.

Sir John Tufton of "The Mote," near Maidstone, married Mary, the third
daughter and co-heiress of Thomas Lord Wotton.

For your Master [seal with coat-of-arms],
when your Mistress pleases.

SIR,--You bid me write every week, and I am doing it without considering
how it will come to you. Let Nan look to that, with whom, I suppose, you
have left the orders of conveyance. I have your last letter; but Jane,
to whom you refer me, is not yet come down. On Tuesday I expect her; and
if she be not engaged, I shall give her no cause hereafter to believe
that she is a burden to me, though I have no em