of 1688. He was the principal correspondent, counsellor, and confidential agent of the Prince of Orange, having been for some time resident as Envoy at the States of Holland. Honours and rewards followed his service; for when William ascended the English throne, Sidney was created Earl of Romney, and got the Lord Lieutenancy of Ireland.

During the greater part of the period over which the diary and letters extend, Sidney was Envoy abroad as already stated; and as he held this office for no very long space, and hath not bequeathed details of much that reaches beyond mere personal concerns, the document is meagre and dull. Some of the letters are lively and fuller of matter, affording a degree of light relative to the manners and the pursuits of the age; although we are bound to characterize the views thus obtained as seldom other than repulsive and infamous.

Among Henry Sidney's chief correspondents were his sister, the Lady Dorothy (Waller's Sacharissa,) his nephew the Earl of Sunderland, Sir William Temple, &c. But from or to Algernon no letter appears; although he is sometimes alluded to, as if thoroughly disliked by his dissolute brother. We say dissolute, for Henry was a rake, a man of bad and heartless character, both privately and politically. Swift has said of him, that he was without sense, truth, or honour;" nor does he seem to have been more sincere when professing attachment to the Whig interests of William the Third, than when joining in the gallantries and scandalous vices of the court of Charles the Second.

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It would be easy to pick out from the pages before us many passages that shed anything but a pleasant light over the feelings and the doings of the period comprised; and if we had time to be at the pains of arranging the notices and traits so as to complete any one of the evidences, or to show how one lax feature harmonized with others, the picture would often become disgustingly indecent. King Charles's occupations and counsels may be appreciated from such entries as the following, belonging to the year when the diary opens, viz., 1679:

30th. The King christened Sir Charles Berkeley's child, and went afterwards to Windsor, which day he passed in walking about; he was very kind, and showed me everything that was to be seen.

July 1st. Little was done all day but going a fishing. At night the Duchess of Portsmouth came. In the morning I was with the King at Mrs. Nell's.

Take a picture of the city of London authorities in the same reign, who but a short time before made a violent Whig demonstration.

His Majesty and his City of London are upon very good terms. When he supped this week at the Mayor's, the people showed as much of affection and duty as the expressions at such a time could be. The Lady Mayoress

sat next to the King, all over scarlet and ermine, and half over diamonds. The Aldermen drank the King's health over and over upon their knees, and wished all hanged and damned that would not serve him with their lives and fortunes. They attended him to Whitehall at two o'clock in the morning; they would not trust him with his guards, who were all drunk, but brought some of their own, and they all went merry out of the King's cellar. The next day they came in a full body, to give both the King and Duke thanks for the honour they had done them. The Mayor is now as well affected as anybody, and was as ill.

We do not enter into the details of the time, which are frequently quite nauseous in one sense or another. Take a lady's account of popular opinions.

You must needs hear of the abominable disorders amongst us, calling all the women whores and the men rogues in the playhouses-throwing candles and links-calling my Lord Sunderland traitor, but in good company; the Duke, rascal; and all ended in " God bless his Highness, the Duke of Monmouth. We will be for him against all the world."

And this testimony to the character and influence of the Duchess of Portsmouth:

Truly I fear there will be some scurvy patching, for the Duchess of Portsmouth is so d-d a Jade, that for my part I think it is but a folly to hope; for she will certainly sell us whenever she can for 500l., and so God bless you in all your proceedings!

Illustrative of Henry Sidney's want of heart and high principle, may be instanced the negative fact, that relative to Algernon's trial and execution not a syllable of sorrow and indignation is uttered. Then with regard to the diarist's amours, we find that a woman of high birth and ancient family, "who unfortunately for herself, upon the death of her husband, fell in Sidney's way, and lived with him as his mistress for twenty years," was at length deserted by him, so as to be reduced to distress, and to the necessity of appealing to his humanity, in terms of which the following is a specimen.

"June 18th, 1689.

"My Lord, I wish some good angel would instruct my pen to express something that would incline your Lordship to moderate your hate towards me who have loved you only too well, and would increase that slender portion of love you have for your own honour. Could your Lordship make cripples of my tongue and pen, by confining me to a jail, as well as my limbs, you might then hope for a conquest; but, my Lord, though I am perfectly lame, and have in a manner quite lost the use of my limbs, yet my pen will never lose its vigour, nor will my tongue be silent. How happy should I now esteem myself if I could say or do anything that would make you re-assume your former good-nature! but do not misconstrue me, my Lord; I mean only that part of your good-nature that would oblige you to do what is rea

sonable, and not to return to your embraces.

I am

Your Lordship must pardon me if I still am perfectly yours without desiring your conversation. the best-natured fool living, but it is not to that degree as to be a silent fool neither. I would willingly, if your Lordship pleases, take a little fresh air between this time and Michaelmas, and all that at present I desire your Lordship to do is to let me have half a year's money next Monday. You know that I have lately begged that you would be pleased to send me a 100l. to pay some small debts. Pray, my dear Lord, do not deny me so poor a business as a little money now at Midsummer, for fear it may again transport me to do something that will go very much against the grain with me to do towards the man that in my soul I do adore and still love too well. I wish I did not. I am sure you never loved money well enough to deny me or anybody any reasonable sum out of a meanly miserable esteem for dross, but you have no other way to be revenged on me but to strip me naked and confine me; but, my Lord, how poor and how ignoble a revenge is this of yours to me, a poor, deluded woman, that hath loved you above myself, nay, above heaven or honour, and hath generously spent my youth with you in discontent and suffering! Whereas I might have had plenty and ease with others; and, if my too great confidence in your great worth and honour and generosity has betrayed me to irrecoverable ruin, yet, my Lord, you must certainly pity me, though you hate me: but I will not yet despair but that I may live to hear my Lord Sidney say, that he hates himself because he hated her, without any just cause, who is sincerely yours,

G. WORTHLEY.

P.S. My Lord, though there was too much noise in King Charles's and King James's Court, let me humbly beg of your Lordship not to be, by your continued cruelty to her (who is not envious, but happy in seeing you so,) the author of any new noise in King William's and Queen Mary's Court; for I assure your Lordship I do not desire it, for I am now wholly inclined to peace, love, and Christian amity. I hope you do not forget your hopeful son in Holland; and that you had my letter, with the enclosed bill, that came to me from him.

The same miserable woman addressed the new-created lord, in the year 1694, in the following affecting terms:

If your Lordship does attend on the King in his progress, let me beg of you to make a step to Stoak; 'tis but fourteen miles from West Chester, and I hear the King goes to Chester. You will find my cousin, Edward Mynshull, will give you a very generous entertainment, and so will my cousin, Sir Thomas Mainwaring, of Badelly; and Stanley, of Houghton; and Chemley, of Vale Royal; and forty more of my relatives there, if you please to do them the honour of visiting their innocent, clownish habitations; and when you have viewed Stoak Hall, where 1 was born (for so it is vulgarly called), then I must beg of your Lordship to tell me whether you don't think it was an agreeable portion for me to be attended from your door by a Constable and a Beadle. Gaysworth, too, will be able to entertain you that was my great grandfather's: but my Lord Macclesfield complains that the old house is ready to fall upon his head. I love Gaysworth, because my mother was born there.

VOL. II. (1843) No. III.

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Here is another specimen of this woman's resolute and powerful tone of appeal and remonstrance :

I am sorry Mr. Sidney is so credulous as to believe all the idle inventions of malicious people against me and my son, which, if he were not perfectly blind, he might see is only pure spite and malice. He treats me with a great deal of cruelty, which I think is very severe, first to have spent my precious youth so dismally as I have done, and now, for a reward of all my sufferings, to be abused and despised, and my son rejected, as if he were none of his, and all this to please his great Mistress; but he will find I have more than an ordinary soul, and, though I cannot manage a sword, a pistol I can ; and, if he does not think good to make me some better satisfaction for the many years of my youth which he has obliged me to spend with him, I shall pistol him and be hanged for him, which I had rather do than sit still and starve, or be any longer a laughing-stock.

Without respect, connexion of time, or theme, we insert a few more passages. Sacharissa writes on family matters in the following sensible style, with an allusion to influence and occuption at court.

February 19th, 1679.

Your kind letter does so delight me, I would fain say something that would be the portrait of my heart, but I am so dull. Though my Lord Halifax has sent for his family, I hope he will come up himself before everybody disperses. He can be without them here, but not very well there, because company comes to him. Nan Saville hath no regret but to be at her cousin's wedding. I think all is agreed upon now. The articles were signed yesterday, and the gentlemen had leave to wait upon his mistress. My brother is gone home, and the writings are to be drawn. The marriage must be at Holland. In some respects I am sorry for it. My sister had a great mind to come, and I should have been glad to have seen her. My brother thought it would be more expense, and not handsome, because of his great relations: I believe he did consider this the more. Mr. Algernon never goes to them, though they have sought him, so that I have wondered at it often. All the women went to see him: the married Pelham and the two sisters, and the men did; but he has used them so abominably, they are ashamed of it, though he did before the treaty of this marriage: they would some of them lay it upon that. I told them, if anybody would bring a better, I would change my party. I had no bride, but I saw some thought this too good. For my part, I think neither of them well married, but this is a good deal better than Montague, though she calls him her pretty dear, and kisses him a thousand times in a day. I tell Lucy she shall not do so; hers will be much such a pretty dear. Nan Saville is very comical about this business; sometimes they are great friends and very familiar. Mr. Pierpoint has promised her, that if he is so happy as to have Mrs. Pelham, and that she is willing, they shall come to Rufford this summer. This is an article of marriage that has given great satisfaction. The thing has been done that I did not much approve of, but I said nothing. Mr. Pierpoint readily did consent to it, but I thought it so little a thing for them to ask, which is, that if she dies and leaves no child, the 2000l. to be paid at her father's death shall not be paid, or returned again if it be. This was a

foresight of Tom Pelham's. For our friends at court, my Lord Sunderland is as well as anybody; how long, God knows! as long as it does, I must tell you nobody has a truer friend at court than you have of him. Hyde and Godolphin, his supporters, are never from him, with her [the Duchess of Portsmouth] at Little Ombre. The players have been disturbed again by drunken people's jokes. They called my Lord Arran a rogue; and one Fitzpatrick pointed at Mr. Thinne, and called him that petitioning fool, and swore a hundred oaths; he said that he deserved 20,000l. a-year, but that fool deserved nothing. My Lady Scroope writes to me, that Mr. Saville is sometimes a very impertinent minister; he is more than ever with her, in what he writ hitherto. She is in as ill hands as can be for her. They are treacherous creatures. I wish a good speedy end of your embassy, and that you were a simple gentleman in my chamber again. My Lady Lisle has another boy; the two grandfathers and the Duchess of Albermarle did christen it. Our brother made her Grace stay above two hours for him, and she had not many more to stay in town. I am yours with a very true affection, D.S. There is a characteristic letter in the collection from a public man whose history will bear to be scrutinised:

My kind friend,-The world thus changed and changing makes me mighty careless of the comforts of it; and you courtiers must and will learn to think so too, when your disappointments come home, and, if I have any prospect, your turn may be next. 'Tis a pretty thing to see how finely the great monarchs of the world play at ninepins with their ministers, destroy their creatures that they may create again. The corruption of one thing is the generation of another, if philosophy be true, and perhaps order may arise from our confusion; if one could be sure of that 'twould mitigate the pain. Which of us two shall be Ambassador I can't tell. Well, I perceive the Dutch air is taking, and that thou art resolved to keep out of harm's way. So shall I too, when I can get to my new-granted province in America, where the charge of the voyage will secure me from the revenge of my enemies. But, not to be tedious, let me beg a letter to Colonel Russel in Lieutenant Cooke's behalf. He has failed of his promise; the place is gone, and the man ruined, if he will not give him the value of the colours of the ensign of the regiment: he that has it professes to do it, and, till then, that the man may have his pay seems reasonable. Perhaps this is like to be the last trouble you will receive by the means of

Thy very true old friend,

W. F. PENN.

Penn understood the meaning of the term Toleration. Can as much be said for Bishop Burnett, if only judged by his private instructions to, William, with regard to the clergy who were to be promoted, and those, on the other hand, that were fit subjects for persecution?

The Clergy of London that deserve more particular regard from your Highness are: Dr. Tillotson, the most moderate and prudent clergyman of England, and, with submission, the fittest man of England to be Archbishop of York. Dr. Patrick, Dean of Peterborrow, a great preacher, and a man