<B TIXALL>

[^TIXALL LETTERS; OR THE CORRESPONDENCE OF THE ASTON FAMILY, AND
THEIR FRIENDS, DURING THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. VOL. II. ED. BY
CLIFFORD, ARTHUR. LONDON: LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN
AND EDINBURGH: ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO, AND JOHN BALLANTYNE
AND CO. 1815.^]

<Q TIX 1656 WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 5>
[} [\LETTER XL.\] }] [^WINEFRID THIMELBY TO MRS HERBERT ASTON^]
   Dearst dearst Sister,
   Were it possible to be angry with you, these lins wod chide
yr kind folly, in desiring my picture: for besides the idle
expence, twas my advantage to be drawn by that neate pencil of
yr love, wch I am sure enough would flater me in every kind. But
I must confes, since you pretend to likenes, you may with more
justice aske, then I deny another painter; therefore I must
yealde, and the truth is, I can deny you nothing. As for the
present, we are frighted with some feares of new trobles with
you. If the tempest blow over, you may expect to see me this
sommer. But when, O
<P 6>
when, shall I see you. It is my dayly comfort to remember how
fast we approach each other, and that every moment dispatches
some part of the way: this makes me content with present
absence, nay even love it. Forgive the sound of that last word,
and consider the sence of it. For I pretend not to a good
expression, but clame yr beleefe I meane as well, as truest love
can teach; and really, sister, you cannot imagin how much the
memory of you gives increase of very solid ioy. For when I looke
upon the condition I might have expected, or hoped for in the
world, methinks, I am so sorry twas noe better, noe greater,
that I might have left, and contemed something worthy my
pretentions. But when I cast my eyes upon the tresures of my
loved friends, and in perticuler yr sweetest selfe, I grow
hugely comforted, because Ile not allow the world could give me
better. I mean kinder, dearer. Therefore, you must give me leave
to love our seperation, because it helps to secure an eternall,
mutuall, inioying.
<P 7>
   You must be sure to present my humblest, and most afectionate
service to my Lady Wessen. Tis really my cross I never deserve
her sisters kindnes; they also have a brother here, who is as
kind as good. If you knew him, you would know this. A very great
expression. (^The best is, they are such noble friends, tis no
paine to be obliged^) . Say all you can of kindnes to my brother
Aston. My hart will be sure to make it good. Is he as willing to
give me a child as you? If so, I shall have very great hopes. Be
sure if I dye before you can compasse it, cheange not yr
resolution: the child will loose noe happines by want of me. I
forgot to tell you, I shewed yr letter to my lady Mary, who
sweetly blusht at that conserned herselfe. Pleased with yr prety
kind complaint; yet bids me tell you, the fault was all yr own
you were noe more acquainted; for she did covet it, but could
not fasten on you, you were so
<P 8>
extremely silent; wch, I must confesse, she is not in yr
prayses. But, by her discourses, adds to that sea, wch flowes,
but never yet knew ebbe. I would be understood the love of yr
most affectionate sister,
   W. T.
   I have not a iot of my sisters haire: mine is too short to do
any thing with; but take it as it is. The gray haires you will
account my sisters, for she made them so.

<Q TIX 1650S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 9>
[} [\LETTER XLI.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO MRS HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Dearest dearest Sister,
   Why after so long a patience, will you mix my ioy with such
distast, to find you shuld the least suspect a change of hart in
me, because you heare not from me. I may as well complayne,
sence tis a whole yeare sencce I receaved line from you, and
then I presently answered it, to stopp your kynd folly, (give me
leave to call it so), which desyred to have my picture drawen.
Take notis, I was the last that writ: for it was then, you
mentioned so many perticulers of your new house, all which I
answered; but it is not the first of mine wch hath miscaried:
for really, I have never mised any oportunitie wch gave any
hopes of aryving you. So carfull selfe love made me, to soe my
seede, in hope to reape the pleasing fruit of yr answers. But,
when they fayled, I never did
<P 10>
admitt a thought your love did so. Sweet sister, doe the same by
mee, who willingly confesse, you goe before me, in all except a
constant love: but ther, Ile give no place. Know therfor, though
you shuld never hear from me, (which yet shall never be when I
can helpe it), I am as dayly mindfull of you, my brother Aston,
and yours, as of my selfe. Really, I tell you this, with as much
truth can be. It is not possible for me, to forgett you one day,
so much I am, and can not chuse but bee
   Your most affectionat sister,
   Winefrid.
   I injoy my health, methinkes, but too well; sence itt delayes
my meeting with my sister Franck. However, know, I am won of the
hapiest persons living; though still methingkes, I shuld be
hapior diing. Sweet sister, when you rite to me, allwayes give
notis of how my lady Aston dus. Her sister, my Lady Mary Weston,
desyres itt of you; and really she dus so hugely oblige me with
continuall kyndnis, I
<P 11>
shall be mitty glad to serve her, in any kynd. Her chambers are
almost finished, and we hugely taken with her sweet
conversation.
   Why did you not rite me some perticulers of your sweet
children. How dus my pore Keat with the ricketts? Remember I
must have won. Oh tell me what hopes.
   I never had line from brother Ned, sence he leaft you, but
heard he intended to winter hear; if brother Thim- give leave;
to whom I rite to beg that comfort; but hear no answer.
   I think Dick is dead, at least to me. But I cannot say,
(\requiescat in pace\) .
   Lets always rite when we can, and have patience when we
cannot, so shall we be more hapy when we meet whonce agen. Know
certeynely my hart can never change to you.
   You have many frinds, who will not lett me seal my letter,
without incloasing ther kyndest love.

<Q TIX 1659? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 12>
[} [\LETTER XLII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Hond. dear Brother,
   Though you have pleased so soone to drye my teares, yet you
have filld my hart with other greafe, to finde myselfe so
deepely in your debte, both in regarde of my deare sister, and
my selfe, without hope of ever paying you, tell harts shall be
revealed. But then, I am certaine, all which you layd out upon
me, will appeare dischardged upon loves score; for ther I dewly
paye. I know not what to say concerning my picture. Twas as far
from my thoughts, as from reason, to imagin you shuld desyre it
now: but since you are so strangely kynd, methincke I shuld be
as strangely coye, if I shuld not afford my sisters picture that
advantage it will gaine by myne; therfore I shall not fayle to
send it. I suffer much with you, concerning
<P 13>
your great charge. I have as many hopes, as you have cares: tis
onely your burthen, under which I growne, as fearing you may
fainte. For them I rest secure, so longe as God preserves them
such a father; for which I dayly pray. Therfore I silence all my
owne repining thoughts, and tune them to comfort, by hope you
will beleeve this great, though hiden truth, that I inheritt all
my sisters dearly dere respects to you, and love of your sweet
little ones.
   Your most affectionat,
   though unworthy sister,
   Win. Thim.
   I fear to suffer in yr thoughts, as one to much incroaching
upon goodnes, whylist I beg you will please, at yr best leysure,
to send that loved relation of my sisters death, my brother
Harry so much ioys to have. Forgive me, tis a bold request.

<Q TIX 1659 WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 14>
[} [\LETTER XLIII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Hond. dear Brother,
   I have the dear content of receaving your most obliging
lines. All the thanckes I can give, I entreat you will take, as
interest for what I owe. The whole summe I confesse myself not
able to pay; but though I looke upon your kyndnis as now aryved
to a (\non plus ultra\) , and am delighted in giving it the
wellcome, yet I find one distast, and must complayne, why you
dispence onely comforts, and conceile your cars. I must share of
all. Your good nature, I am sure, can not be ignorant of the
great satisfaction is found in suffering wth our frinds: Na, it
puts downe all joyes (I meane temporall) wherin they are not
concerned; and why then, not a word of thos poore sweet
children, that have the rickets, or any other suffering of
yours? Indeed you must not deale so with me. See, how redily I
lay clame to the
<P 15>
privilege your kindnis gave me, of confidently asking any thing
of you. This is my request, and in this is included all my
desyres; except your beleefe, I shall ever, ever retayne my
sisters hart to you and yours.
   I have obeyed you, my picture is drawen by the best payneter;
one, that hath the esteem of drawing much to the life. But still
my hardest taske is to performe, why lest I must tell you; it
cost 40 shillings. O the shame! Did not your commands give
countnance, and content; sence, tis as much the picture of your
kyndnis, as of me; and thus methinckes tis cheape. I have rite
to my brother Harry, to inquire for it, of Mr Foster, who lives
at the Venetian imbassidors; for thither I shall direct it, with
a few pittyfull toakens for your children. But, if you looke
upon them, with that kindnis, they are sent, they will expresse
what words cannot, without wronging
   Your most affectionat,
   though unworthy sister,
   Winefrid Thim.
<P 16>
   My Lady Mary Weston presents her humble servis. Next time you
rite, thanck her for me. For my obligations are very many, and
great.

<Q TIX 1660S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 17>
[} [\LETTER XLIV.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Sep. 12.
   Hond. deare Brother,
   How strangely kynd are you, in coveting my empty lynes, sence
all my store of selfe love could never flatter me into the
deceat of the least satisfaction in them, further then as I
consider them seede of yours; but now, you please to give
incouragement another way; for your desyre gives worth: which
great truth cannot be denyed; but give me leave to ad another. I
ever found shame and pitty greatest paynes; and truely you put
me to both. Whats my shame every line can tell you: consequently
my pitty; though more obscurely rit, for selfe love is never
willingly unmasked. All
<P 18>
this whyle I say nothing; my bisinis is begging, with all
importunity, I request, as you love my peace, and patience,
beleeve I have enoufe to pay all thos great and many debts I owe
your kyndnis; but so fast sealed up, that death can onely open.
If I meet you not just then, what matter? You know who will be
ready to receive all that is dew to you; and with her helpe, I
may be able to convaye somethinge towards my discharge, tell we
can meete.
   Is it not strange, I shuld have nothing to say for Keat: my
sylence speaks your love; for wear I not assured she inioyes the
best father, I shuld conceive itt my duty to wooe for the best
chyld; but your car cuts of all myne: yet I wod faine know more
perticulers concerning her health, and if she grow. I am
strangely ioyed in the hopes you give us, that her meanes will
be recovered.
   Sweet Jesus grant itt so. How willingly shall I singe a
(\nunc dimittis\) , when I see Keat as happy as my self, I mean
as contented, for true hapinis consists in goodnis; and
wheresover she
<P 19>
bee, I hope she will exceede me in that; for I can boast of
nothing but your favour, and the profesion, that I am, as much
as Keat can wish,
   Your most affectionat sister,
   Win.

<Q TIX 1660S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 20>
[} [\LETTER XLV.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Hond. deare Brother,
   Saving my quarill, a thousand thanckes for yr sweet
condescendance, in letting me know part of yr, now my
afflictions: though, for the first, I am more angry than sad: it
seemes a kynd of ridle, you had need expound it to me, how you
can wish to dye, pretending love to her, who, by yr death, would
dye yet ten times more: for, have you any chyld can live, much
lesse, live well, without you? Besydes, you know, tis saufest
living, when we least inioye; and, sence the sadnis of your
condition helpes to secure you are in the right way, for pitty,
be content to goe att such a rate, as all your little flocke may
see yr steps, and follow you; and heer it is, I see my selfe
with much compassion. For, though wholy unprofitable to any
frind of mine, and, I feare, even to my selfe; yet cannot find
the way to dye. Doe but looke
<P 21>
upon your owne advantage in this poynt, and I am confident, you
will equally derive patience for your selfe, and pitty for me,
   Your most affectionate sister,
   Winefrid.
   My picture lyes yet at Brudges, in a frinds hand, who
watcheth opportunity to send it with saufty; could it speake my
thoughts to you, I shuld not blush to have you take such car for
itt. O no, I shuld be hapy, did you know what kynd thoughts I
have to you and yours, which never can take change.
   My Lady Mary desyres you receave her humble servise. She
tooke your letter very kyndly; and bids me tell you, she beares
a part both of yr crosse and hapines. But your strange inventive
kyndnis will doe yr selfe some servise; for I shall no more
importune yr thanckes in my behalfe: it cost me too much shame.
My dearest love to all yr children. I fear I am a little
partiall to Jacke.

<Q TIX 1660S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 22>
[} [\LETTER XLVI.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Agust 22.
   Hond. Deare Brother,
   I must begin wher you end the first part of yr letter, for
all, tell then, is far above what I can answer, and infinitly
beyond my desert. But o the force of truth! I am strangely in
love with it, which tooke from yr eyes that multipliing glace,
through which you are ust to looke upon the seeming good in me.
Jesus, what doth my brother Aston say, what meanes he? Upon
another score, thinck what my dear sister, I hope now in heaven,
wod have me pay you; who never rit without this coniuration.
(^Be sure you infinitly love and honore Mr Aston, who makes me
the hapiest creature in the world.^) Thinck if it wer possible
to deny a sister, and such a sister, such a request, which even
justice wod have rong from the flintiest hart. Well then, all
that she desyred is, and will ever be
<P 23>
ready for you; please to receave it, and, when you are payed, it
is still intyre. For I never found love of that nature, to
diminish by dealing out, but rather lyke fire, take increase the
farther itt spreads. But alas! myne is onely the passive part; I
can act nothing in order to your comfort, or my owne. Suffer I
doe beyound expression, in the small hopes of ever seeing Keat
so hapy as my selfe. I dar never mention itt to her, for, on
that proiect, I could better spend teares then inck. This sad
thought puts me quit out of saying more then that I constantly
am
   Your most affectionat sister,
   Win. Thim.
   Nothing must make me forgett my most humble, dear respects,
to sweet Mrs Ger. Aston. I am proud she is pleased to remember
so poor a servant.

<Q TIX 1660S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 24>
[} [\LETTER XLVII.\] }] [^LETTER NUMBERED XXXIV IN THE EDITION^]
[^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT ASTON^]
   Honored Deare Brother,
   'Twas great discretion to publish such ioyes as yr last
promised, long before ther tyme; both to temper the discomfort
of our present seperation, and, by a quiet, hopefull
expectation, moderate that excess, which so unexpected a
happinis would have caused in mee, in case I had bine surprised
ther with. But you must answer for a greater fault, (because of
longer continuance, I cannot say more voluntary) my great
impatience; how shall I reckone the houres, how shall I fall out
with tyme for ever; now as too slowe, then, I am sure, too
quicke; after that, scarce to bee indured, except sweet Keate
prevaile to reconcile us, for a whyle. However, tis my comfort,
time distroyes itt selfe; whylest itt tiraniseth over us, we are
sure to ont live itt, and dying live,
   Your most affectionat sister,
   Winefride Thim.

<Q TIX 1660S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 25>
[} [\LETTER XLVIII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Honored Deare Brother,
   You are, I see, resolved, I must never answer you in your
owne language, tis pride enouf to understand itt; and equall
comfort to find my stamering understood so well by you. This is
my incouragement to speake of such a sister, such a chyld;
though no worce pen then your owne can doe them justice. But
sence your kyndnis is my kynd interpretor, I shall not fear to
give you som acoumpt of them. First, for our dearest sister,
though her eyes' deluge not yet wholy ceaced, yet who can repine
att so hapy a flood, which has raysed her to the contemplation
of heaven, wher such pearlls as her teares contribute with other
jewells to the ritches of that ocean of delight.
<P 26>
   Keat also goes along with much smoothnes, not knowing any
thing but hapines. Yet can complaine, she must expect so longe
before she be a nun. In won word, they both bereave me of the
loved payne of kynd solicitudes; they leave me nothing to wish;
I have but won desyre between them, yet wholl to both, which is,
continuance of that peace the world cannot give. Oh may ther
soles glide in this sweet streame, till they arrive at that
torrent of delights wch heaven prepares for them and you, wher
you may perhaps meete
   Your most affectionat sister, though now unworthy Wine.
   I wod faine be knowne to every chyld of yours, though ther
poorest ante, yet the most truly affectionat.

<Q TIX 1660S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 27>
[} [\LETTER XLIX.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Hond. Deare Brother,
   I have not, without much resentment, long deprived myselfe of
the delight of hearing from you; for I am so aquanted with your
constant kyndnis, that I conclude, had I written, I had ere this
been hapy by yr answers. But, the truth is, I have partly beene
hindered by my owne infirmity, but cheefly by poore Keates; whos
ill health so hindered her learning, she could not sooner obay
your comaund in wrighting. She is now to take the spawe waters,
so that I hope my next will tell you better newes of her.
Truely, I must acknowledge God allmightes wisedome shynes
equally with his goodnis in her, that so sweetly tempers my
ioyes; wch otherwyse would passe the bounds of moderation. For
had she health, I shuld fynd too much comfort in this world's
banishment; our dear sister Thimelby goeing forward so beyound
expectation,
<P 28>
every way. Upon Michallmas day she makes her profession;
perticulars of wch Keat is resolved to tell you in her next. She
forgott to aske whither you have receaved her toakens, and
feares they have mischaried, as did the manuall you sent her. I
find my paper filled, before I have sayd any thing of that wch
most fills my hart; my constant duely dear respects, and all a
hart can owe, which, though not all expressed, yet momently
payed by
   Your most affectionat, other wyse most unworthy sister Win.
   My dear love to all yours. You must favour me delivering itt
perticulerly to every one. Lady Mary is extremly kynd to us all
three.

<Q TIX 1660S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 29>
[} [\LETTER L.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT ASTON^]
(^For her Hond. Dear Brother, Mr Herbert Aston, this present,^)
att Bellamore.
   Hond. Deare Brother,
   You doe so confound me with yr high and sweet expressions,
that, though I have more to say than ever, I never knew lesse
how to speake then now; yet, will not helpe my selfe with that
ould mistaken principall, as you call itt, and urge that love is
blind; and such the prospective by wch you looke on me. No, I
find rather, that yr kyndnis resembles a multiplying glace,
wherin you see small meritts great, and by that, judge of mee
farr from the truth.
<P 30>
Really, I wod faine put a scruple in yr mynd of flattering me.
Forgive that word, and understand, I am as confident it is not
so in you, as I am unhapy in finding my demeritt tornes itt so
to me. But enouf of this sad subject; I must have place to
comunicate my ioys. Our dear sister hath now changed murning
into whight attire. Oh had you seen the solemnity, I am
confident yr hart wod not have contained all the ioy, but shed
som att yr eyes. Keat was the bearer of her crowne; was itt not
fitt she shuld, who meanes to duble itt, in the last, and
lasting nuptiall feast? No less then heaven can dim the splendor
of this glorius day. All thinges wear so compleatly acted, both
by bride, and
<P 31>
bridmayde, that my brother Ned and I wear not a lettle goodly.
Poore Keat longes to tell you the whole stoary, but alas, she
cannot rite in hast, having discontinued her practis allmost 3
munths, upon too iust excuse. My sister has promised to tell you
all perticulers of her infirmity, wch, thanckes be to God, she
hath now well recovered, though itt cost me first many a hart
ake; but had you seene her cariage in receiving yr little
letter, she knew neither how to expresse her ioys, or manyfest
her love, to her owne satisfaction: though we can all wittnis,
she discharged herselfe very well of both. For pitty, rite
againe, for this letter is allmost quit worne out with her
continuall kissing it. She impatiently expects yr long letter,
promised wth her bro. Jack's, and sister Cons., and feares her
not riting now will deprive her of them; but I have undertaken
to beg it may not, which I earnestly doe, by all the kyndnis
wherby you honore and oblige
   Yr most affectionate sister,
   Win.
   My dear dear love to Jacke, and all the rest as in
perticuler.

<Q TIX 1670S? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 35>
[} [\LETTER LII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Hond. Deare Brother,
   Though you have forgiven much in all my letters, yet this
will take a greater proofe of your indullgence to mee, wher I
must confess a high iniustice in so much repyning to lend you
backe your owne, though even my owne dim judgment discovers itt
best, both in regard of her present and future happynes, besydes
the warrent of greater and better lights who plainely see itt
the onely meanes to recover her. But of this and all perticulers
my sister will best informe you. Her's the active, mine the
passive part. I am strangely confounded to fynd so much selfe
love, wher I lest suspected it, none living could have perswaded
me I could have suffered any thinge in order to Keat's good, but
now I blushingly confesse tis time she retorne to Bellamore,
till I lerne how
<P 36>
to love. And though I cannot passe the seaes with her, I am sure
tha-l passe my eyes. O may she fynd a sweeter calme in thos,
then I in thes, but when I hear she is aryved, (wch I coniure
you by all you ever loved, to lett me quickly know) I shall
inioy much peacc in the assurance, nothing shall be wanting wch
the best father can alow his best chyld. I please myself also in
the thought what comfort she will receive in that sweet little
company of brothers and sisters, all wch I hope will contribute
much to her speedy recovery, that I may have my deare Keate
agen. Meantime I will soe in teares that I may reape in joy.
   Your most affectionat sister,
   Win.
   Forgive also my late thancks for yr last dearly obliging
letter. Sweet brother, lett not Keat know my sadnis. I have
strangely dissembled itt, not to afflict her tender loving hart,
kynd to me as much beyound expression as desert. I shall no more
troble you with remembering me to all yours. This little
mesinger of love
<P 37>
will, I hope, make me knowne both to you and them.

<Q TIX 1670S? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 38>
[} [\LETTER LIII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Jan. 3.
   Hond. Deare Brother,
   What a strange mixture is this world of ioy and greife, or
rather what a weaknis, I, so quickly moved by either. My last to
you had more need of teares then incke. In this I know not how
enouf to speake my joys, that sweet Keat is well with you. See a
copius subiect for your prayers, and pitty; O lett them gaine
for me an equall love to God, in all his wills; my want of this
is iustly punished by Keat's absence, but I am confident God
will retorne that mercy to mee, and I hope quickly too, for I
believe the company of her brothers and sisters will help much
to her perfect recovery; for a little mallincolly was all the
fault she had, and certainely did her much hurt; and heer she
wanted divertisment, not haveing any of her owne age or
condition. I am ashamed she learnt so little, but her ill health
was so continuall, a hard
<P 39>
hart could not have sett her seriusly to any thing. I onely beg
you will quickly rite, and I will ceace to troble your eyes with
longer scribling. Yr hart, I know, kynd enouf to bear all my
defects, and kynder yet, if you beleeve my affection equalls the
reasons I fynd for itt. This supposed, I must needs stile my
self
   Your proud sister,
   Winefrid Thimelby.

<Q TIX 1670S? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 40>
[} [\LETTER LIV.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Jan. 28.
   Hond. Deare Brother,
   I had receaved most complet satisfaction in my sister's
letter, had I not perceaved your suspition that I wanted itt. O
God! how longe must I suffer? not being understood by you.
Truely, I am neither so blyndly proud in myselfe, not so uniust
to you, as to chalinge your letters, by the number of my owne,
no, I understand both too well, and set so due a value upon
yours, that, though I receave but won line for a letter, I
esteeme itt a ritch purchase; and shuld scruple to aske more as
worse then usury; to require juels for counterfeits. But its
lawful to receave a boundty, therfore when you please to give
it, I gladly take, as poor folckes use to doe, unconcerned to
give agayne, because
<P 41>
I have itt not. But thanckes and prayers shall ever waite upon
you, and the last knocke at heaven's gate tell we are both lett
in, wher my hopes perswade you will owne I ever was
   Your most affectionat, though unworthy, sister, Win.
   O what hopes of having my dear Keat againe? my want of
resignation deserves, I fear, this rod of separation.

<Q TIX 1670S? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 42>
[} [\LETTER LV.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT ASTON^]
(^Thes for Mr Herbert Aston, humbly present^) , Bellamore.
   Hond. Deare Brother,
   I am so revived with a poore little glimpse of hope wch my
brother Edward gives me of seeing our dear Keat againe, that
sylence growes too dull a thinge. I must proclame my ioys,
though 'twill discover much of my weaknis to be so esily
transported from won passion to a nother, when the bisinis is
onely this: My brother has promised he will goe a purpose to
Standel, to visit Keat; and if he can find she hath any frinds
that will contribute to the making of her hapy heer, he also
will offer his mite. O
<P 43>
that it wear possible he could speake with you. I doe not meane
for her, but his owne satisfaction; for I shuld not deserve your
pardon, had I a thought to begg of you, as beeing certaine you
are too good a father to her, too dear and kynd a brother to us,
too much a furtherer of good intentions, to need solicitation in
that behalfe, as far as yr ability will permit; further wear
most uniust for us to desire, and infinitly from the hart
   of your most affectionat sister,
   Win.

<Q TIX 1670S? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 44>
[} [\LETTER LVI.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Dearest -
   I never had more impatience in your silence (which is a great
expression) then in present circumstances; for I suffer much in
fear least our lov'd pride in Cottington will bee severely
humbled. For God-sake lett me know my part that I may act it
well. Naturally I am sure I shall, whither it bee ioy or greife.
Tell me, therfore, is she ... or has envie onely disguised her.
How faine wod I believe this last, and how hartely could I
forgive that crime. Na, how doe I wish it had been committed,
though I wear to undergoe the pennance dew to itt. Tell me
quickly, but largely, all the story. Doe not suppose me a well
mortifyed nun dead to the world; for alas tis not so, I am
alive, and as nearly concern'd for thos I
<P 45>
love, as if I had never left them, and must shar in all their
fortunes whither good or bad. For God-sake, what's become of my
dear brother Ned. I rite upon this subject to him, but never had
word of aunswer. Now hee's with you, I can easily forgive his
neglect of his poor sister, but tell him, at his retourne to
Cambray, his sylence will bee unpardonable. I know not what to
say to dear Cottington, for I beleeve ther is no corner left for
me in her loved memory; but when you meet good Mrs Collier, I
charge you say a great deal of kyndnis from me; for she expres'd
so much of dear respect and disinterested love for my poor
neece, that she left me much her debtor.
   Hapy Keat smiles at the world, and wonders ther can bee
varietie of concerns, she knowing but one which she follows
closs, always doeing ing what she shud doe; yet for all her
perfection,
<P 46>
the name of her brother John, or Bellamore, brings frech blood
into her cheeks, which witnesses she is alive still.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 48>
[} [\LETTER LVII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Sep. 8.
   Hond. and dearest Brother,
   Your letters are never in this world to be answerd. I referr
you therfore, till we meet in the Vale of Josaphat. Ther you'l
recive reward of all your unwearied charities, and unchangeable
kyndnis to a poor unworthy sister. Yet this comfort, your pietie
may reap from present circumstances; that, notwithstanding my
great stock of self love, which naturally inclines to sadnis, in
the neglect of frinds (now experienced in our once dear
Cottington). I find my self so chearish'd by your lov'd kyndnis,
and so filld up by it, thers no roome left for any repyning
thought. For it apears most unreasonable, to covett more from
any, when I cannot corispond in any visible maner, with half
that I receive from you. Therfore, as I intimated
<P 49>
before, I defereving accounts, till we meet in etternitie. I
must intreate you'l teache your girls the same patience, for
really I can never express myself what I am. But in pitty,
beleeve none lives that more loves you and yours, then your
poore sister,
   Win.
   Keat trusts me with her duty, and with reason, for sure I am,
none wod take more car it should not mischary; therfore receive
it whol, intire, and sound, for so she gave it me, as lykewyse
her love to all her brothers and sisters.

<Q TIX 1677 WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 50>
[} [\LETTER LVIII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   June 24, 77.
   Ever hond. dear Brother,
   I received by sister Gray an aunswer to those complaints I
whispered in your eare. Your kynd concern for myn in the neglect
of frinds was balsom to my wound; and, indeed, I am too
covetous, if I esteem not my self ritch inouf by your favours,
though all other frinds forgott me quite; but to doe them
iustis, I lately fynd it is not so. My neece Cottington has made
me full amends, by a long, and dearly kynd letter. My nephew
Aston 2 or 3, but of him I never was guilty of a ielous thought.
All of Bellamore may doe what they will, for tis impossible to
mistrust kyndnis ther.
   Dear Brother, give my thancks the advantage of yr presenting
them to worthy Mr Fitter, for his promiss concerning my dear Mrs
Fowler, who will have but too much need of his assistance. I
esteem her tryall by kyndnis
<P 51>
more dangerous to shake her resolution, then tortures would bee;
too hot sunshine, dus you know more harme to young groing
plants, than hard frosts; but I hope grace will overshadow her.
   What doe you meane wher you seeme to thinck my confidence in
you was shaken? Tis the darkest ridle I ever hard. I understand
nothing of itt; and I hugg my ignorance, and shuld hate any such
bould thought, as durst be so iniurious both to you and mee. Tis
more then time to thanck you for all your civilities to Sr Gray,
wch she tells me, wear both many and great, both att Bellamore
and St Tomas, wher you pleasd to visit her. I can retourne
nothing, because I cannot be more than I was
   Your affectionat sister,
   W. T.

<Q TIX 1670S? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 52>
[} [\LETTER LIX.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO MRS ELIZA
COTTINGTON^]
   (^These for Mrs Cottenton.^)
   Dear Neece,
   Presuming I heer incloss a large love letter, each word a
figure, to expresse how much itt is, I take the advantage to ad
my sifer as a compendius way to summ up my owne; for when you
have read all a kynd mother can say, I wod be understoode a
greater lover still of
<P 53>
you. These words seeme proud and high; but we ought not to blush
in the confession of truth, and that will answer for me, none
lives that more loves you, then
   Dear neece,
   Your affectionate ante,
   Winefrid Thimelby.
   Lett all the knott of our dear frinds receive my love. I wod
fayne know how sweet Gat dus. If you wod please to comaund
either my brother or hers to give me notis, I am sure thay wod
obaye.

<Q TIX 1670S? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 54>
[} [\LETTER LX.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO MRS ELIZA
COTTINGTON^]
   (^For yr dear self.^)
   Both dearly kynd and cruell Neece,
   You feast me so with choyce excesse of kyndnis, I am torn'd
epicure: upon your conscience bee itt. Every line of yours is
such a severall daynty dishe I can not feede on it without
glottony: God forgive you. You seeme to raigne as queene of
love, say, doe, what none els can; shoote arrows wher you
please, wound, and heale att once, whilest I, lyke som poore
slave, looke on, admire, receive your favours with blushes, and
with ioy. Burne in my hart with love, yet dar not speake of itt,
because tis naked, and can not apeare. It wants all yr
advantages of power to sett it forth: but glory not too much;
for ther is great complaynts of yr government. You violently
rob'd a preist of all the treasure of his love: he has not so
much
<P 55>
as a graine, to bestow upon his poore sister heer att Lovaine;
but kynd providence has given her better fortune in loves
trafick, then her brother (^bankerot^) ; for though she spent
att Lovaing as much as he could loose att London, she fynds itt
an unexhausted treasure, and if but wysely lay'd out, the
comings in inritch beyounde expression. Arithmatick cannot
coumpt the dear satisfactions which true worth renders to its
lovers. Thus you crowen the most sencire, constant, cordiall
love of
   Dearly kynd neece,
   Yr poor and infinitly oblig'd ante,
   W. Thimelby.
   My thancks can no wayes reach yr bounty. My debt so great
nothing but love can crosse the score.

<Q TIX 1670S? ECOTTINGTON>
<A ELIZA COTTINGTON>
<P 56>
[} [\LETTER LXI.\] }] [^ELIZA COTTINGTON TO HERBERT ASTON^]
   Deare Uncle,
   After the good purposes, and strong resolutions, which I
think, if I can remember so long agoe, my last did expres, I
would by no meanes have you think it, all to gether the ould
neglegence; or what is worse, ill youmer: but that I have bine
so holy taken up with the gaity of the French, that I have not
time for so seriose imploiment as righting; this, perhaps, you
may think but a new excuse; but when you reflect that you wisht
it, you will not, I hope, repent if I am so conversed. I am only
sorry to hear no better newse of my country;
<P 57>
and I wish they had some of the good example which is hear: at
least Madame Lavalier is more then pretended; for she gos
through all the rigor of the order as much as any one. But there
is a lady in Queen-street, says, all ar not bound to be
Lavaliers. I must beg her pardon, if I think all that have done
like her aught, and that she can sattisfy no other way. I doe
not doubt but you will be of the same opinion. When shall I hear
your dear child is hapyly bestowed? That were something I should
reioyce at indeed; but she deserves so well, I must confes I
know no man worthy enouf. Had she
<P 58>
such a husband as father, it would be too much for this world,
therfore, while she hath you she can not be pittied by
   Your ever affectionat neece
   and servant,
   Eliz. Cottington.

<Q TIX 1670S? ECOTTINGTON>
<A ELIZA COTTINGTON>
<P 59>
[} [\LETTER LXII.\] }] [^ELIZA COTTINGTON TO HERBERT ASTON^]
   Dearest Unkle,
   I hope now I may venter to say something for myself. If cosin
Gatt deseaves me not, I will not feer by this time but my pease
is chefly maid with you. Pardon the presumption, dear unkle, for
I owne my fault great; and have no other recourse so prevalent
in my opinion, (mistake me not all to geather) as yr
partiallity. For I remember once, you were not pleased at that
expression of me, so that I should be very unwilling to incur it
a second time. You must give me leave only to tell you, wher
ther is such true desert, as none doubts butt is ther, who
knowse her, you can not reward it better, then by a more than
ordinary kindnes; and it must not be calld a partiallity: that
being a contrary thing, a blindnes without any meritt often
times. But why doe I talk thus to unkle Aston, who knowse every
thing, and I nothing? I am
<P 60>
ashamed of my self, and will stop my pen to consider, if I can
find something that may give him a better satisfaction. But it
will not be, I can not thinck of so good a subiect as I have
begun with. To continue with Bellamore, you must know cousin
Aston is this day gone to a new play, which was never acted but
by the Lady Castlemaine. Wee ar in in expectation still of Mr
Draidens play. Ther is a bowld woman hath oferd one: my cosen
Aston can give you a better acount of her then I can. Some
verses I have seen which ar not ill: that is commendation enouf:
she will think so too, I believe, when it comes upon the stage.
I shall tremble for the poor wooman exposed among the critticks.
She stands need to be strongly fortified agenst them. The
greatest newse I can tell you, Lo. Buckhurst hath wright his
mistress a letter, wherin he shewse himself, what
<P 61>
she mought daly expect, inconstancy. She tooke it heavily for a
day; but thay say, is so well provided, as if she had bine the
occation of the change her selfe. Hary Jerman is the man. Wee
have so dull and so wicked a towne, as it will aford no newse
but of this kind, which will be so seriose to you. With such ill
expressions, I can not to soone end, when I have done my
greatest bisnes, which is to asure you, that none is more
   Your humble servant,
   Deare unkle,
   Ever to command,
   Eliz. Cottington.
   I can not but tell you, I think my self more bowld then the
wooman I have named, when I wright to you. For yr sensure is to
me what all is to her. Wonder not I doe it so seldom.

<Q TIX 1670S? ECOTTINGTON>
<A ELIZA COTTINGTON>
<P 62>
[} [\LETTER LXIII.\] }] [^ELIZA COTTINGTON TO HERBERT ASTON^]
   Deare Unkle,
   Though I think you have resolved never to see this plase
more, methinks you should not quarell with all for one. Many
frends for one enemy should sattisfy, which I doubt not but you
have. But that which is above all, you inioy so much hapines in
the sweet solitude of Bellamour, that you despise all other
satisfactions, even King and no King, which is this day acted.
Maskerades, I know not what powre they might have with you, but
I know a gentleman of yr acquaintance, that, the first as ever I
was at, came and squeesd me by the hand; and I knew him not,
tell he discoverd him self: then I was obliged to say nothing.
For that trick, I am resolvd never to see any more, except it
were to meet you ther: and then I think it weare a very
convenient plase to discourse many things, too seriose for me to
<P 63>
wright. I am the less conserned that cosin Aston performes the
part of sending you the newse, when there is any. Nor have I
time for more, then my love to dear Gatt, with yr leave; and I
am yours.
   Eliz. Cottington.

<Q TIX 1670S? ECOTTINGTON>
<A ELIZA COTTINGTON>
<P 64>
[} [\LETTER LXIV.\] }] [^ELIZA COTTINGTON TO HERBERT ASTON^]
   Deare Unkle,
   I doe asure you, though I preferd my health in the first
place, I look upon France to be no less advantagose, in all
other respects. But what is this to you, who inioys all that can
be, at your little Bellamour? Only, you can extend so far the
greatest charity, when you remember me at your so regular
devotions.
   As to my owne perticuler, some says hear, I am not in so much
danger, but I doubt it is all one: if so, I hope I shall have
your advise, what will be best to doe, for a poor banisht
creature, who is, in all conditions, more yours then you have
reason to believe. As you ar iust I will say no more, but that I
am
   Your most affectionat nece,
   to serve you,
   E. C.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 65>
[} [\LETTER LXV.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   (^Thes for Mr Herbert Aston.^)
   Hond. deare Brother,
   Sure you thincke me so hardned by affliction, that I have
lost both sence of ill, and tast of ioy, els you'd never keepe
me so short of comfort. You rite seldomer now then ever; though
I never wanted that satisfaction so much as now. Lett me
undeceive you, I am no stone: kyndnis is as living in my breast,
as full in power as ever: cloude yours no more with sylence:
wher love shynes with full beames grife disapeares. O hasten
that fayer day. Meane tyme Ile steale som glimes of comfort,
<P 66>
by remembering we are both walking towards each other, and
certaynely shall meet att last, sence every houre dispatches
part of our way: you know our harbenger went longe agoe, to
provide us a place. All things are ready, when when we are ready
for them; and every houre brings the good newes of our aproach
to death, that gate of lyfe. Forgive me, that I longe to fley
before you, sence I dar promise when you com, to give you place
before me, preheminence in all but love. But ther Ile boast I am
certaynely even, at least with you: na, my hopes give warent, I
shall be proclamed eternally,
   Yr most constant, most true,
   most affectionat sister,
   Winefrid Thimelby.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 67>
[} [\LETTER LXVI.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Hond. dear Brother,
   I longe to breake the flattering glasse your kyndnis thinckes
a true one. You still will looke upon me much better than I am.
Why will you sett me so hard a taske, allwayes to unpie what is
so finely wroaght? You tricke me netely up, but I must pull all
of, to pay truth what I owe. Know then, really I am infinittly
unworthy of the esteem, you too too favourably expresse every
way of me: for pitty put me no more to the confution of this
publick confession. My pride suffers much in itt, my kyndnis
more by thes sad delays in my sister's bisines; but this
unconstant world does so use us to perpetuall changes, that
methinckes, ther is no hope without fear, nor fear without hope.
O when, O when, shall ther be an end
<P 68>
of both, and I knowen what now I beg to be beleeved to bee,
   Your most affectionat sister,
   Win. Thimelby.
   Aprill 22.
   Dear Brother, take car that poore Gatt greave not. I am truly
glad she growes, and growes well too. How shuld I pitty her, had
she any other father. Teach her to mingle happines with me, for
betweene us we have all. She what I want in you, I what she
wants heer. Letts putt all in comon.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 69>
[} [\LETTER LXVII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Hond. dear Brother,
   My iust kyndnis, though a continuall springe ever flowing to
you, is lost in yours, as rivers in the sea. But know, though
itt appeare not, you receive itt in full streames, yet drowne
itt quit, in yr full tide of high and dear expressions; to which
I can make no answer, but must needs take leave to aske some
questions.
   What doe you meane in ye desyre you expresse ...? I suffer
strangely ly in the fear you may imagine I have power to ...;
wch really I have not. My power is onely payne. It brings no
liberty but restraint. The truth is, Keat gives so
<P 70>
great, so very great a satisfaction to all, that every one
desires more of the broode. If you suspect the least of my
indeavour to advance the bissines to my utmost power, you doe a
high iniustice to, and understand not one jott,
   Hond. dear brother,
   Yr most affectionat sister,
   and humble servant,
   Winfrid Thimelby.
   Dear Brother, say a very great deale for me to my hond. lady.
I am in all reallity, her most most affectionat, though
unprofitable servant.

<Q TIX 1680 WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 71>
[} [\LETTER LXVIII.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Aprill 30.
   Ever hond dear Brother,
   I had patience to fast all lent from the lov'd dayntys of yr
letters; but Easter brings an expectation of such feasts agen. I
therfor now bring in the first corce of an ordinary homly dish,
tis yr torne to bring the secound; upon which, my apetit is
wholly bent, as sure to relish every bitt and crome that falls
from that table of comfort. I suspect, mischariage of letters
has rob'd me of many a good bitt; for I evr found in you so kynd
a bounty towards my satisfaction, that sure I am, you wod have
ansured all you received from me; wch makes me conclud, divers
wer lost. One espetially, wherin I whisperd you concerning Gatt;
desyring you to lett me know, how her pulse beats towards
Lovaine; for my weaknis requires som warning. If I must for ever
loose her, tell me
<P 72>
by degrees, not all at once, least I be soone and more
inseparably wedded to greife, then she to a husband. Be sure she
read not this, but you, I know, will esyly forgive me. For,
though perhaps I am faulty by too immoderat desyres, yet still
my falt is not agaynst charity; for I love, and wish her as my
self. But as for faith and hope, I owne my selfe as weak in both
concerning her, as perfect in all three to you,
   Dearest Brother,
   W. T.
   My Lord Portland, I thinck, will be with you before midsomer;
but take no notis that I tell you so. He presents his humble
service, and desyres to know what hopes of a good fortune for
Mrs Weston. I doubt he will expect to know Gatts finall
resolution before his retorne. Keats eye mends: I hope she will
shortly rite herselfe, for the best I can say for her dus her
wronge.

<Q TIX 1680? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 73>
[} [\LETTER LXIX.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Ever hond. more then ever loved,
   I canot rite without reluctance, what I know you canot read
without troble. Our dearly dear Gatt wears still her crowen of
thornes, and with adition of sufferance, for she has got a
quartin ague; yet beares itt with so sweet a cherfullniss, and
her sister too, that to my shame I speake itt, I am the most
unresigned person of the 3. What a wretch am I, that knowing the
indispensible decree (even to the maker of the law), that none
shall enter Heaven by any other way, then sufferance, doe yet
repyne to meete the marke that tells us we goe right.
   Keate is resolved to keepe sylence, all she can obay yr last
comaund; and tell you her sisters head is well. Gatts excuse is
too largely tould. She can say nothing. I am left alone to tell
this sad story, and have sayd too much,
<P 74>
yet not enouf, till I style myselfe, beyound all expression, and
I fear beleefe,
   Yr most affectionat sister, 
   and humble servant,
   Winefrid Thimelby.
   Dear Brother, rite as oft as ever you can to Gatt, twill be
her best medisin.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 75>
[} [\LETTER LXX.\] }] [^WINEFRID THIMELBY TO GERTRUDE ASTON^]
   (^These for Mrs Gertrude Aston.^)
   My sweet Chyld,
   How couldst thou fynd in thy hart to give adition to my
troble, in parting with thee, and to be at such charges to vex
me? I beleeve you thought itt discretion, to temper one pation
by another; and therfore raysd my coller to moderate my greife;
but you fayl'd in your ayme, and left poore Keat, to bear alone
the scourge of my just anger. You have read how it goes with me,
tis now your torne to tell me how you doe. See you performe yr
taske clearly and largely: no general termes will serve my
torne. I must know all perticulers of yr indispositions, that I
may better know how to direct my prayers:
<P 76>
whether thancksgiving, or petition, suits you best. I have
allready past the hardest, I meane that of oblation, and shall
continue the second in a corner after matins, but the 3d I long
to have publicke in company of my good sisters. Tell us therfore
quickly, is your ague quit gon, that we may all give thancks to
God. How strangely doe I speake, as if health wear the proper
motive of gratitude, wheras certaynely patience in sicknis is
far above itt; and presuming one of thees, com what will, my
hart shall ever prayse God for thee: for I am confident yr lott
shall be made good, which you chose with Mrs Hacon. Remember it
well, but doe not mistake me. I meane not, presently to be a
nun. I mean not to seale thee up in a cloyster, (as for that,
his will be done, in spyt of fond desyres), but I meane to seale
thee up to his owne servise. Love God, and doe what thou wilt.
Ile promise to love thee every iot as well as if a nun: as
truely, as constantly, as dearly, because unchangebly thy most
affectionat ante,
   W. Thim.

<Q TIX 1673 WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 77>
[} [\LETTER LXXI.\] }] [^WINEFRID THIMELBY TO GERTRUDE ASTON^]
   Feb. 23, 1672.
   My dear sweet Chyld,
   I know not whither I shuld chyd or pitty thee, as being
ignorant of the cause of thy sylence. I am inclyned to fear,
thou art either sad or sick. The last may excuse thee, but the
first not at all. Na, if so, thou art most uniust, and keepe my
owne from me, and defrawdest me of my right. So I esteeme it, to
bear part in all thy concernes, espetially sufferance. Ther thou
shalt never be alone, by my consent. Therfor, dear chyld, tell
me truly and largely, how it goes with thy content; and, if I
may have leave to compare bace and meane things with high,
perhaps God deals with thee, as my mother did with me, when a
little foolish chyld, and nuely weaned from the brest. I gott a
trick to suck my thum, but she so rub'd it with worm wood, I
quickly left that sport. So I phansy,
<P 78>
Allty God sprinkels with bitternis all thy lov'd pleasures, and
will not have thee suck dry broken cesterns; but drinck full
draughts at the fountayne head of true and lasting ioys, such as
flow in religion. Forgive me, my chyld, I cannot forbear to say
this; my hart is so topfull of desyre to have thee as happy as
my self. But I wod not have thee take it for persuasion, unless
thou finde, as I suspect, no solid content wher thou art; but
supposing thou doest, I am truly satisfied, and will beleeve,
and hope, God will make thee a sayntt, wher thou art, and thats
all I car for. I never till now had ambition to be a prophetess.
   I must desyre yr prayers for dear Sr Mary Coyny, who dyed in
14 dayes sicknis: so frayle a flower is youth and beauty. Trust
not to itt Gatt, if thou beest wyse: but you know
<P 79>
who says, no matter how soone the fruit fall, so it hang till it
be ripe. Though her death was unexpected, yet she had the
excellent preparation of an Inocent, and virtuous lyfe. We have
hope next sumer, to see Mrs Weston, and Mrs Mary Hacon; and Keat
sais, you must make up that trinity of ioyes. But tis time to
present the kyndnis of yr frinds, lest I want roome. The first
place is our dear father's dew. None before him in tender love
for you, except my selfe. Next my lord, in his playne but
cordiall way. "Remember me to poore Gatt: wo'd she be a nun?
Faith, if she knew the world half so well as I, she wod make
haste out of itt. Dear Prokaty goes further, and further than I
can tell, in kynd expression. Yr misteris follows closs, in a
more sylent way, and wearys me with her oft kynd whispers, is
ther no hope of Gatts retorne, &c. Sister Clayton, Lame, King,
Musgrave, Constable, (^Marina^) , Clarke, Stafford,
<P 80>
Aurelia, Bessy Claye, all, and every one, nuns and sisters,
perticulerly poore Heicott, wod be named by som marke of
kyndnis; but our yong nun, sister Hacon, longs for a whisper;
and tells me, she repents som things she said to you, as fynding
it much otherwise then she thought. She is growen so constantly
mery, you wod scharce know her, but it strangely becoms her. She
longs for yr coming mitely, but says, I must have patience a
year or too; and then she dar almost swere by her owne
experience, you will know so much of the world, as to hate itts
deceats, and fly to saufty, wher she has alredy taken sanctuary.
I had almost forgott our 2 Novises, Nan Constable, and Franck
Tomson, who desyre you receive ther kyndnis. Mrs Mary
Worthington is scholer for order, all alone; but we expect
Crathornes sister. I have spent so much place in delivering
others kyndnis, that I must croud my owne to
<P 81>
my dearest brother Aston. In one word, I am all his, and thyne
as much; for I fynd no disbursment of love diminish my stocke.
Every one kindles, and mentaynes there owne fyre; and burne in
it, though never can consume, thy most affectionat ante,
   W. T.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 82>
[} [\LETTER LXXII.\] }] [^WINEFRID THIMELBY TO GERTRUDE ASTON^]
   (^For Dear Gatt.^)
   Sep. 20.
   My Dear sweet Chyld,
   Yr sylence, though never so long, could never have betrayed
your forgettfulnis of me, so much as yr letter did. Lord! know
you me no better, then to thinck I can have any change to thee,
or take any thing ill. No, no, my love is of a higher straine.
God, I hope, has ordered it to be eternal; therfor can receive
no diminution by any thing can hapen in this world. Now, to give
thee a true acoumpt why I rite so sildom, really tis partly to
spare thee. I meane to favour thy lasy umore, wch I know hates
riting, and yet wod suffer not to answer me. Partly also, I must
confesse, because I fynd it hard to speake to thee, and not to
speake the bottom of my hart; and that agayne might troble thee,
because our dissyres differ. I am
<P 83>
confind therfor to repeat, over and over againe the old story.
None ever did, or can love thee better, and (except thy father)
none so well as thy poore ante,
   W. Thimelby.
   I will not lett your sister rite for fear of putting her eyes
out of tune; because Sr Anne Gifford lyes a dying, and then you
know how many (\dirigis\) she is obliged to read, besydes the
psalter; but next tyme write to her, not to me. I shall take itt
full as well, for Keat and I are but one. No body knows of my
riting, els I shuld bee loaded with remembrances to you. Cosen
Crathorne is com back, and to be cloathed with Mall Worthington.

<Q TIX 1675? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 85>
[} [\LETTER LXXIII.\] }] [^WINEFRID THIMELBY TO GERTRUDE ASTON^]
   My dear dear Chyld,
   I have received both yr father's dear letter, and yours, of
the 12th of January: I confess, the best new years gift I ever
had; for thay brought ioy, equall to my former greife and care.
Yours a whole pack of comfort, pure wyne of gladnis: but yr
fathers had a mixture, a great deale of water with his wyne; and
twas fitt it shuld be so, els between you both, I had been
tipled quit. Sence yr letters came not tyme enouf for me to
answer both this weeke, your father, I am sure, will pardon me,
for making choyse of riting first to you, whom I so lattly
iniurd by loves impatiens; but I hope you received my (\mea
Culpa\) , wch I presently dispatched to you. For when yr father,
prophet lyke, admonished me of my sin, I presently cryed,
(\peccavi\) . Your sister's patience in yr sylence to her,
exacts the lyke in iustis from you; and,
<P 86>
alas! she has too much reason on her syde, for her eyes are not
yet well. Yet thinckes she sees to much in yr last to me. I
cannot excuse her. She is indeed too covetos. She fynds no
satiety in her owne hapines, because she lookes upon you as
wanting itt: this she will have me say from her. Now take my
owne sence. I car not wher thou livest, so thou livest right. I
make a shift to meete thee in a corner every night after
mattins; wher, though I can not speake with thee, I am allowed
to speake for thee, as much, and as longe as I will; and, if it
prove not so pleasing, yet I know tis more profitable: ther I
negotiat all thy affayers: ther Ile present all thy concernes:
ther Ile petition all thats good for thee. I cannot desemble,
but I have somthing of Keats weaknis, in resentment of thy
absence: but really I blame my weake hart for it; sence tis
certayne, that itt imports not wher, but how wee live. We are
too tender lovers. So we meet att our race's end, what matter
though we see not one another runne.
   Dear chyld, take this truth from me: Thy settlement in the
world will be no diminishion of my love, but onely augmentation
of my car
<P 87>
for thee, because there is more obiects to devide that love, wch
in one flame ought to ascend to God. Live freely in the world,
but garde thy hart from loving itt for thats forbid, because it
passeth. Cast not therfor away a portion of thy immortall soule
upon any thing transitory: fix all thy love on God, and then doe
what thou wilt, sweet chyld, for I am unchangeably thyn for
ever,
   W. T.

<Q TIX 1680? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 88>
[} [\LETTER LXXIV.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Sep. 3.
   Hond. dear Brother,
   Is it not preposterous to com with complaynts, wher in
justice I owe so many thancks? It wear so, if my complaynts wear
not of that nature, that they may pass as part of payment; but
they are of so good mettall, that, if tryd, thay will be found
pure and weighty gould. I apeale to your judgement for best
proufe; yet with this exception. Ile not alow you waye your
self, for ther your ballence is not even with myne, but with all
the rest of yr dear company, I will trust you. Waye then iustly,
what I must suffer for every one, when I know not how any one
has past so long, so dangerous a jornye. I, who have so much
love for all, that it seemes an undivided flame; and yett
agayne, so much perticuler love for every one, as if one onely
person wear sole heir of it. Waye, I say,
<P 89>
and redresse the greif, the care, and if you can, the love of 
   Dear Brother,
   Your most affectionat sister,
   W. Thimelby.
   Sweet Keats hart can take no change. She has all resentments
due, yet none of power to change her steady temper. She is hapy
in spyt of fate.

<Q TIX 1672 WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 90>
[} [\LETTER LXXV.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Septem. 2, 1672.
   Hond. deare Brother,
   Keat has received yours with all dutifull (that is
unexpressible) ioy; and kyndly flatters me into beleefe you'l
receive her answer, as willingly by my pen as her owne;
especially when I tell you, tis to spare her ill eyes, which
fynd too much imployment by the dutyes of order, in present
circumstances. Sr Anne Gifford lying a dying; wch brings an
obligation of reeding many prayers for her, both living and
dead. But poore Keat knowes not how ill a choyce she has made;
for I, that could never yet speak what was fitt for my self, how
is it possible I can doe it for her? But Ile trust your goodnis
will keepe my councill, and make good by yr kynd faith, whats
neither seen nor hard: beleeving
<P 91>
stedfastly she retornes all she shuld; and now methincks I have
hitt itt, and defye any can say more for her. Therfor, be so
obligingly kynd, as to aplye the same words to
   Yr most affectionat sister,
   W. Thimelby.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 92>
[} [\LETTER LXXVI.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   (^For Mr Herbert Aston, these humbly present^) , att
Bellamoore.
   Hon. deare Brother,
   Tis a kynd providence guides yr pen, equally dispensing
pleasure and profitt. Your letters feast me with delight, your
sylence proves a wholsom fast; humbling me by discovery of my
great selfe love. I used to flatter my selfe with beleeve, I had
so much reason, as to receave full satisfaction in my dear
sisters ioyes. But now I fynd self love is ravenous. Tis not a
sweet bit you carve from her table, can satiat a starved
stomake. I am not so erogant to lay clayme to desert, though as
you see almost impudent in begging yr favour. Thus I have sowed
<P 93>
my poore, little, black, contemptible seede, in hope of a
plentiful harvest of comfort. O deny it not for pity to
   Your most affectionat sister,
   though the most unworthy,
   Winefrid Thimelby.
Sep. 2.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 96>
[} [\LETTER LXXVIII.\] }] [^WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HER NEPHEWS AND
NIECES AT BELLAMOUR^]
   (^For Bellamor.^)
   My dear Children, Girls and Boys,
   Ever since my jubily, I have long'd for opportunity to convay
thes little things wear given me then; because I expect none so
fine agen. I hope you understand me well enough, to know, that
when I send you nothing, tis because I have nothing I thinck you
will car for; or els for want of opportunity. However, I have
one way of convaying kyndnis, which can never mischary; and
dayly make use of itt. Yet perhaps you will not receive it, till
the day of eternity. Then youl see my cares, my prayers, my neer
concerns for each of you. Gatt, I rejoice in thy health, and
ability to serve thy father, and assist thy brothers, and
sisters. Tis a hapines, I hope, dear Franck will share in
<P 97>
shortly. But I have some aprehension Franck, that thou wilt want
Doctor Conquest in the country. I will thanck him for the good
he has done thee: be sure thou leavest of greif for my good
lady. Thou must not bee such a stranger to heaven as to thinck
itts gaine, your losse. We have all indevored to speed her
flight to that b. eternity. God bless sweet Mall, Wat, and Hab,
and all of you. I forgot to tell thee Gatt, I never had that
letter yr father tells me you ritt; but Franck I had both of
yours, and sent a little purs, and christall, to thee, by one Mr
Digby; but I doubt he ner delivered it, tho he promised fare.
Now I send all together, agree among yourselves, as I know you
will: but what ever your father lyks best, know for certayne,
that is designed for him,
   From your most intirely loving aunt,
   W. T.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 98>
[} [\LETTER LXXIX.\] }] [^TO HER NIECES AND NEPHEWS IN
BELLAMOUR^]
   My dearly dear Children,
   Yr brother Jack tells me you kyndly thinck it long, since you
hard from me. I perceive ther has been miscariage of yr letters,
for certainely had I received any, I shuld have aunswered them;
though I confess, twas my design to wean both my self and you,
from that satisfaction: for now my age tells me, I have not long
to live; therfor my dear sweet chillderen, I wod have you
remember me, onely in your prayers. Ile doe the same by you: yet
if a letter com from you, I owne twill be a pleasant
distraction; and I will be sure to give you another: but this
will pass. Lett our constant labour bee, who shall runn swiftest
towards the happy eternity. For nothing in this world but may
advance our speed, if we know how to make right use of itt. As
long as your father
<P 99>
lives, I have no car for you. I am sure he is no less yr
spirituall father then yr naturall. I praye God, you may hould
him fast. But alas! you must att last, you must, when God calls,
lett him goe. Be sure, therfor, to make benefitt of the time
mercy indulges him to you; and pray I may not out live yr
happinis in him, for being totally unable to give you any
comfort my self, twod prove an unsufferable cross, to your poor,
but most affectionat aunt,
   W. T.
   When you rit, be sure to tell me perticulers of each of you,
for really my love is so perticuler to every one, boys and
girls, that a generall accoumpt serves not my turne. When you
see worthy Mr Morgan, give him my best respects, though I shall
never clearly forgive his forsaking Lovaing: tell him, ould dear
father lives now, I thinck, onely to give us a pattern how to
dye. He is so weake, not able to goe one stepp, nor scarce to
speake to be understood by any, but thos that are continually
about him. Yet so cherful in the expectation of death, that he
even vexes me to see him so long to leave us. Tother day,
hearing him sigh,
<P 100>
I demaunded the cause. He tould me he long'd to dye. I answerde,
he was about itt. He replyed, O may itt bee this day, this hour,
this moment. His teares mayd out the rest. You may be sure he
wept not alone. We dayly expect his death, wch will bee his ioy,
but unspeakable grife to your poor affectionat aunt,
   W. T.

<Q TIX 1680? WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 101>
[} [\LETTER LXXX.\] }] [^WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HER NIECES^]
   For my dear Girls,
My dear sweet girls you must not think your sister Keat is dead,
though my ioys bee so. She truly lives, and shall never dy. She
laughs at our fond tears, for God has wyp'd her eyes. Wonder not
that I speak so confidently, for all
<P 102>
that saw her virtues, (which is every one in the house) thinks
what I say. This last half year God was pleased to try her with
much infirmity and great paines, especially in her head; in that
extremitie, that somtimes she could not speak; but she had made
a bargan with me, that when she held up her fingar, I must torn
to God for her, with a (\fiat voluntas tua\) . Just the night
before God took her from me, she had been discoursing with one
of our sisters, who lamented the misery of humaine frailty, that
drags us somtimes to doe or say, what wee know to be amiss. No,
sed she, say not so, tis too true, that we often frayly doe
amiss, but I cannot belive that any will doe ill, when they
perceive itt so. When this was told our father, he aunsered, she
measured others by herself, for she never did. Ile say no more,
least I coole yr devotion in praying for her, and we must
remember, our judgments fall infinitly short of allmightie Gods,
in whose sight the very stars are not pure.
   I am your too much affectionat aunt,
   W. T.

<Q TIX 1670S WTHIMELBY>
<A WINEFRID THIMELBY>
<P 103>
[} [\LETTER LXXXI.\] }] [^FROM WINEFRID THIMELBY TO HERBERT
ASTON^]
   Hond. dear Brother,
   I will not measure you, by my owne weake hart; you understand
better the kings high
<P 104>
way, and know crosses are blessings, and markes that we go
right. Therfore I feare not to tell you, our dear sister, to tye
up our ioys in due limitts, broke her owne, and went, I dout
not, towards the liberty of saynts. Upon the 24th of last munth,
she fell sick, and after 9 days
<P 105>
began to recover, as we hopet; but fell back into a relapse,
which toke her from us. Rype and ready for heaven, she fell to
ryse for ever. My eyes and hart are full, receave the overflow.
   Your most affectionat sister,
   W. T.
   July 26.



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