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tutional dogmas which had descended to him un- scientious justification. History, therefore, while impaired by popular innovations, and which he it deplores his opposition to inevitable changes, was resolved, at all hazards, to preserve and trans- which, refused as a concession, were at last granted mit without a flaw. He may be said to have as a necessity, will render honor to the sincerity been the last of the race of kings who sat throned of his convictions, and to that purity of motive under the canopy of Divine Right. He would which governed all his actions, alike in his public have laid his head upon the block rather than have and private capacity. consented to the emancipation of the Catholics.
The foregoing correspondence, it should be He was a Protestant king governing a Protestaut people, and he considered the extension of political Bishop of Worcester.
added, is derived from the family of Dr. Hurd, privileges to the members of any religious profession outside the circle of Protestantism as an
DR. THOMAS DICK. act of treason against the solemn trust committed to his hands. His severity on this point was
The claims of Dr. Thomas Dick, of Scotland, rendered still more remarkable by his limited to some remuneration for his literary labors, from interpretation of Protestantism, which strictly nar- the many thousand readers of his works, which rowed the application of the term to the commu- have been republished in this country, and from nicants of the Church of England alone. Pro- which he has received not a particle of emolument, found must have been his convictions on this sub- have been lately brought to the attention of the ject, when they led him, as a matter of conscience, public. For the purpose of presenting this case to to part with Pite and take up with Addington. our readers, in the most authentic form, we present
Nor can we have a more curious illustration of the following extract from a simple statement of his majesty's simplicity of heart, than the way in his claims and his wants, addressed by Mr. Elihu which he treats this change of ministers. He Burritt to the readers of the Christian Citizen, a consoles himself for the loss of Pitt by his de-journal of which the latter is the editor. The pendence on Addington's attachment to the church, weight and value of this testimony is too well and repugnance to all reforms; and is confident known and too highly appreciated to need any conthat he shall have the support of the most“ re- firmation from us. We cannot but hope that some spectable” in both houses, and that even Mr. Pite measures will be adopted, more likely to be effecthimself will be a warm friend to the new admin- ual than the mere voluntary impulse of a sense of istration. It is quite evident, from all this, that obligation upon individuals, for accomplishing the his majesty had not the faintest suspicion of Pitt's object recommended by Mr. Burritt. Some system tactics in bringing about this very change, which of coöperation, by those who recognize the obligahis majesty believed was the result of his own tion, is necessary to ensure the discharge of this influence and sagacity, or of the reasons which debt which is due to this learned author.- Daily induced Pitt to give occasional assistance to his
Advertiser. successor in office. In that one word respectable," also, we have another clue to his majesty's
The venerable Dr. Thomas Dick, of Scotland, character. He was himself the most respectable has endeared his name to the reading public of this man in his dominions, and he prized a discreet and country by a series of works of inestimable value,
which have obtained the widest circulation and prudent respectability above the most distinguished celebrity. Perhaps it is not too much to say, that capacity. “Eminent talents and discretion,” he they have been read by millions in America, who observes, in one of his letters speaking of the will readily attest to their worth. In proof of this, Bishop of Llandaff, are not always allied ;” and the venerable author has received perhaps hundreds his lordship of Worcester, deeply impressed by a of communications from individuals in America, sentiment which he knew to be at all times pre- expressing the warmest sentiments of respect and dominant in the good king's mind, is careful to realized that those who were reaping fortunes in
admiration for his writings. But how little they respond to it emphatically, crowning his censure America by the publication and sale of his books, of the indiscreet bishop with, “ as your majesty did not drop a grain of their profit for him to candidly observes, parts and prudence do not always administer comfort to his declining years! No! go together.” The candor of the observation, we the postage on the very letters from America which are afraid, is not so apparent as its truth.
of testified to the value of his works, oftentimes course, parts and prudence, no more than many which he cultivated with his own hand in his gar
robbed his table of everything save the vegetables other excellent attributes, do not always go to- den. This, we can state on good authority, has gether; but it was hardly worth while to congratu- been a literal fact. late his majesty on having made the discovery. While spending a day or two under his roof, two
It is a trite saying, that firmness in a good cause or three years ago, we were persuaded, that the is obstinacy in a bad one ; but it will scarcely thousands who have read and enjoyed his works in apply to George III.'s resistance to those measures America, if they knew his circumstances, would of toleration which wero afterwards carried by most heartily contribute to a testimonial which George IV. He acted under a stern sense of should be to him a more available expression of
esteem than bare words, however complimentary, obligations which had been respected in the same could convey. And a few months after this visit, sense by his predecessors, from the time of the we ventured to sound him upon the subject of such settlement of the kingdom in 1688. He was not a testimonial, with the view to ascertain whether, without precedent, and a sort of royal and con- and how, it could be made agreeable to his feel ings ; also to elicit some statements in reference to circulation on both sides of the Atlantic. He is his circumstances, which might serve as the basis now on the verge of eighty, and he can write no of the appeal which we proposed to address to his more for the world. But to crown the climax of friends in America. In answer to this communi- this unfortunate condition, the little annual income cation we received the following letter :
which he had saved out of all his years of arduous
labor, to sustain himself and family, when he could “Broughty Ferry, near Dundee, June 2, 1848.
earn nothing more with his pen for their subsist“Dear Friend: I return you many thanks for ence—that too has failed at this hour of trial and your kind proposals of a testimonial from America; affliction; and from intelligence received by the but scarcely know what reply to make to it. About last steamer, the good man is reduced to a state of the close of 1846, the American consul at Dundee, almost entire destitution. All his resources are Edward Baxter, Esq., proposed to me to allow him cut off, except the respect and sympathy of those to make a representation, and to transmit a memo- who have profited by his works. And now, at rial to Baltimore, Boston, New York, and Albany, this late hour, we would appeal to all his friends but I have heard nothing of the result since, and I in America to testify their sense of his worth, and have not seen Mr. Baxter for more than a year of their obligation to his labors, in a way which past. It is true I have made comparatively little shall administer that aid and comfort to these last in a pecuniary respect for the volumes I have pub- years of his life, which words cannot give. If the lished. For the Christian Philosopher' I received American publishers, who have realized fortunes only $120 for the entire copyright. This work out of the free plunder of his talents and genius, has passed through ten large editions, and I pre-would send him a cent a volume on all the editions sume the publisher has realized upon it, of clear of his works which they have sold, it would place profit, at least £1,800.
him in opulence. But they will not do this; it “ For the copyright of the Philosophy of a would be establishing a dangerous precedent for Future State' I have received £80. For • The their trade, to admit the slightest moral obligation Improvement of Society by the Diffusion of Knowl- to foreign authors for works which the laws of the edge,' I received about £100, and I am entitled land permit them to appropriate to their own profit, to nothing further, whatever number of editions without a farthing's compensation for the years of these may pass through ; and I need scarcely say intellectual labor which produced them. No, it is that I received nothing for any of these from Amer- to the readers of Dr. Dick's writings that we ica. My other works procured sums somewhat would address this appeal for some proof of their similar to those now stated. For one or two of estimation of his merits, which shall assuage the the volumes, I received certain sums from the solicitudes of this hour of his affliction. A small Messrs. Harper of New York, for transmitting contribution from each—a sum which they would corrected sheets previous to publication in this never miss—would place him beyond the expericountry. My income has always been very mod-ence and fear of poverty during the rest of his orate, and of late years I have had a considerable days. And what they do, should be done quickly. burthen on my shoulders, in consequence of five We hope devoutly that his readers and friends, grandchildren having, in the course of Providence, who read the Citizen, will resolve themselves into been devolved upon me, for maintenance and edu- a soliciting committee, and start a subscription in cation ; until lately, when two of them were their respective communities without delay. Any admitted into John Watson's Hospital, Edinburgh. sums may be transmitted immediately to the Their parents died in the prime of life, within Doctor through Harnden & Co., Boston. We thirteen days of each other, six years ago. My shall be most happy to receive and forward any sister, Mrs. M., has also been dependent upon me contributions to him which may be entrusted to since that time.
If it were not too much to wish, we “ At the same time, I know not what to say in should be glad and grateful if the readers of the reference to your kind proposal. A little addition Citizen, as a social circle, would raise and send a to my present income would certainly be accepta- special testimonial of their regard for the good ble ; and if your American brethren were to come man. If they would contribute, on an average, spontaneously forward to offer a sum as a testimo- twenty-five cents each for this object, it would be nial that they had derived some benefit from my a noble offering. What say they to this propowritings, I would not refuse it. For they have sition ? been enabled to possess my writings at a much Bills of exchange, or money orders, can be procheaper rate than in this country, in consequence cured of Harnden & Co., or of any of their branches, of my not having a copyright in America. But I for any sum, we believe, from £ 1 to £1,000. Dr. would not urge any such claim, unless it seemed Dick's post office address is broughty Ferry, near to be granted spontaneously. But as the post is Dundee, Scotland. If it is not convenient to obtain just leaving, and this is the only day in which I a money order of Harnden & Co. for a small sum, have been able to write for some time, I must an English sovereign may be transmitted to conclude.
Broughty Ferry, in a letter, by attaching it to a “ Yours most sincerely,
card, enclosed in an envelope just large enough to
“ THOMAS Dick.” admit it. A sovereign, with a note on thin paper, Since the receipt of this letter, the venerable Dr. weighs less than half an ounce, and the postage Dick has been brought to the very gates of the could be only twenty-four cents through.
All the contributions entrusted to our care, will grave by sickness. For days he seemed to be on the very confines of another world, and all hopes be regularly acknowledged in the Citizen.
We now leave the proposition with our readers, of his recovery were relinquished by his friends. But he was marvellously raised up again, to encoun
awaiting such a response as their generous sym
E. B. ter a new experience of misfortune and privation. pathies may dictate. The copyrights of his books are all sold, and their [The Editor of the Living Age will be glad to receive, revenue consumed. Not a farthing comes back to and forward through Mr. Burritt
, with his own tribute, bim from the millions of volumes of his works in the contributions of any of his readers.) LIVING AGE.
April, 1646.-Can aniething equall ye desperate Did Rose know ye bitter-sweat she was impartingratitude of the human heart? Testifie of it, ing to me, when she gave me, by stealth as 't were journall, agaynst me. Here did I, throughout the ye latelie publisht volume of my husband's Engincessant cares and anxieties of Robin's sicknesse, lish versing? It hath beene my companion ever find, or make time, for almoste dailie record of my since ; for I had perused ye Comus but by snatches, trouble; since which, whole months have passed under ye disadvantage of crabbed manuscript. without soe much as a scrawled ejaculation of thank- This morning, to use his owne deare words :fullenesse that ye sick hath beene made whole.
I sat me down to watch, upon a bank, Yet, not that that thankfullenesse hath beene With ivy canopied, and interwove unfelt, nor, though unwritten, unexprest. Nay,
With flaunting honeysuckle, and beganne, O Lord, deeplie, deeplie, have I thanked thee for thy
Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholie,
To meditate. tender mercies. And he healed soe slowlie, that
The text of my meditation was this, drawne suspense, as 't were, wore itself out, and gave from ye same loved source :place to a dull, mournful persuasion that an hy
This I hold firm : dropsia would waste him away, though more slow
Virtue may be assayled, but never burt, lie, yet noe less surelie than the fever.
Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled; Soe weeks lengthened into months, I mighte
Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm,
Shall, in ye happy trial, prove most glory. well say years, they seemed soe long! and stille he seemed to neede more care and tendernesse; But who hath such virtue? have I? hath he ! till, just as he and I had learnt to say, “ Thy will, No, we have both gone astray, and done amiss, O Lord, be done,” he began to gain flesh, his and wrought sinfullie ; but I worst, I first, therecraving appetite moderated, yet his food nourished fore more neede that I humble myself, and pray him, and by God's blessing he recovered!
for both. During that heavie season of probation, our There is one, more unhappie, perhaps, than hearts were unlocked, and we spake oft to one either. The king, most misfortunate gentleman! another of things in heaven and things in earth. who knoweth not which way to turn, nor whom to Afterwards, our mutuall reserves returned, and trust. Last time I saw him, methought never was Robin, methinks, became shyer than before, but there a face soe full of woe.' there can never cease to be a dearer bond between us.
Now we are apart, I aim to keep him mind- May 6th.— The king hath escaped! He gave fulle of the high and holie resolutions he formed orders overnight at alle ye gates, for three persons in his sicknesse ; and though he never answers to passe ; and, accompanied onlie by Mr. Ashthese portions of my letters, I am avised to think burnham, and Mr. Hurd, rode forthe at nightfalle, he finds them not displeasing.
towards London. Sure, he will not throw himNow that Oxford is like to be besieged, my life selfe into ye hands of parliament ? is more confined than ever ; yet I cannot, and will Mother is affrighted beyond measure at ye near not leave father and mother, even for the Agnews, neighborhood of Fairfax's army, and entreats while they are soe much harassed. This morn- father to leave alle behind, and flee with us into ing, my father hath received a letter from Sir yo city. It may yet be done ; and we alle share Thomas Glemham, requiring a larger quantitie her feares. of winnowed wheat, than, with alle his loyaltie, he likes to send.
Saturday even.-Packing up in greate haste,
after a confused family council, wherein some fresh 23d.—Ralph Hewlett hath just looked in to accounts of ye rebels' advances, broughte in by say, his father and mother have in safetie reached Diggory, made my father ye sooner consent to a London, where he will shortlie joyn them, and to stolen flight into Oxford, Diggory being left behind ask, is there anie service he can doe me? Ay, in charge. Time of flight, to-morrow after dark, truly ; one that I dare not name—he can bring ye Puritans being busie at theire sermons. The me word of Mr. Milton, of his health, of his better the day, the better the deede.- Heaven looks, of his speech, and whether * *
make it soe! Ralph shall be noe messenger of mine.
Tuesday.-Oxford ; in most confined and un24th.—Talking of money matters this morn- pleasant lodgings; but noe matter, manie betlor ing, mother sayd something that brought tears into and richer than ourselves fare worse, and our king
She observed, that though my hus- hath not where to lay his head. 'T is sayd he band had never beene a favorite of hers, there hath turned his course towards Scotland. There was one thing wherein she must say he had be- are souldiers in this house, whose noise distracts haved generously : he had never, to this day, askt us. Alsoe, a poor widow lady, whose husband father for ye 5001. which had brought him, in ye hath beene slayn in these wars. The children first instance, to Forest Hill, (he having promised have taken a feverish complaynt, and require old Mr. Milton to try to get y debt paid,) and the incessant tending. Theire beds are far from cleane, which, on his asking for my hand, father tolde in too little space, and ill aired. him shoulde be made over sooner or later, in lieu of dower.
May 20th.—The widow lady goes about visiting
the sick, and would faine have my companie. solateness. I see the Agnews, true friends! The streets have displeased me, being soe fulle of riding hither; and with them a third, who, memen ; however, in a close hoode I have accompanied thinks, is Rose's brother Ralph. her sundrie times. 'Tis a good soul, and full of pious works and alms-deedes.
St. Martin's le Grand.— Trembling, weeping, 27th.—Diggory hath found his way to us, alle hopefulle, dismaied, here I sit in mine uncle's dismaied, and bringing dismay with him, for ye hired house, alone in a crowd, scared at mine owne rebels have taken and ransacked our house, and precipitation, readie to wish myself back, unable turned him forthe. “A plague on these wars !” to resolve, to reflect, to pray. as father says.
What are we to doe, or how live, despoyled of alle? Father hath lost, one way Twelve at night. Alle is silent; even in ye and another, since yo civil war broke out, three latelie busie streets. Why art thou cast down, thousand pounds, and is now nearlie beggared. my heart? why art thou disquieted within me! Mother weeps bitterlie, and father's countenance Hope thou stille in ye Lord, for he is the joy and hath fallen more than ever I saw it before. “Nine light of thy countenance. Thou hast beene long children !” he exclaimed, just now ; "and onlie of learning him to be such. Oh, forget not thy one provided for!” His eye fell upon me for a lesson now! Thy best friend hath sanctioned, moment, with less tendernesse than usuall, as nay, counselled this step, and overcome alle though he wished me in Aldersgate Street. I'm obstacles, and provided the means of this journey ; sure I wish I were there,-not because father is and to-morrow at noone, if events prove not cross, in misfortune ; oh, no.
I shall have speech of him whom my soul loveth.
To-night, let me watch, fast, and pray. June.—The Parliament requireth our unfortunate King to issue orders to this and alle his other Friday; at night.-How awfulle it is to beholde garrisons, commanding theire surrender; and father, a man weepe! mine owne tears, when I think finding this is likelie to take place forth with, is thereon, well forthe * busied in having himself comprised within ye Rose was a true friend when she sayd articles of surrender. ’T will be hard indeede, prompt affections are oft our wise counsellors.” shoulde this be denied. His estate lying in ye Soe, she suggested and advised alle ; wrung forthe King's quarters, how coulde he doe less than ad- my father's consent, and sett me on my way, even here to his Mo' partie during this unnaturall war ? putting money in my purse.
Well for me, bad I am sure mother grudged yo royalists everie goose she beene at my journey's end as well as its and turkey they had from our yard.
'Stead of which, here was onlie mine aunt ; a 27th.—Praised be Heaven, deare father hath just slow, timid, uncertaya soule, who proved but a received Sir Thomas Fairfax's protection, empow. broken reed to lean upon. ering him quietlie and without let to goe forthe Soe, alle I woulde have done arighle went crosse, “ with servants, horses, arms, goods, etc.” to the letter never delivered, yo message delayed till “London or elsewhere," whithersoever he will. he had left home, soe that methought I shoulde And though y protection extends but over six goe crazie. months, at ye expiry of which time, father must While the boy, stammering in his lame excuses, take measures to embark for some place of refuge bore my chased reproaches y® more humblie because beyond seas, yet who knows what may turn up in he saw he had done me some grievous hurt, though those six months! The King may enjoy his owne he knew not what, a voice in y® adjacent chamber agayn. Meantime, we immediatelie leave Oxford. in alternation with mine Uncle's, drove the blood
of a suddain froin mine heart, and then sent, it Forest Hill.–At home agayn; and what a back with impetuous rush, for I knew the accents home! Everiething to seeke, everiething mis right well. placed, broken, abused, or gone altogether! The Enters mine Aunt, alle flurried, and hushing gate off its hinges ; y stone balls of ye pillars her voice. “Oh, niece, he whom you wot of is overthrowne, y great bell stolen, the clipt janipers here, but knoweth not you are at hand, nor in grubbed up, the sun-diall broken! Not a hen or London. Shall I tell him ?” chicken, duck or duckling, left! Crab half-starved, But I gasped, and held her by her skirts ; then, and soe glad to see us, that he dragged his kennel with a suddain secret prayer, or cry, or maybe, after him. Daisy and Blanch making such piteous wish, as 't were, darted up unto heaven for assisemoans at y paddock gate, that I coulde not bear ance, I took noe thought what I shoulde speak it, but helped Lettice to milk them. Within when confronted with him, but opening ye door doors, everie room smelling of beer and tobacco; between us, he then standing with his back towards cupboards broken open, etc. On my chamber it, rushed forth and to his feet—there sank, in'a floor, a greasy steeple-crowned hat ! Threw it gush of tears ; for not one word coulde I proffer, forthe from the window with a pair of tongs. nor soe much as look up.
Mother goes about yo house weeping. Father A quick hand was laid on my head, on my sits in his broken arm-chair, yo picture of discon- | shoulder—as quicklie removed
was aware of the door being hurriedlie opened about me and wept, and I did weep too; seeing and shut, and a man hasting forthe ; but ’t was onlie the which, Jack advanced, gave me his hand, and mine uncle. Meantime, my husband, who had at finally his lips, then lookt as much as to say, first uttered a suddain cry or exclamation, had “ Now, alle 's right.” They are grown, and are now left me, sunk on yo ground as I was, and more comely than heretofore, which, in some retired a space, I know not whither, but methinks measure, is owing to theire hair being noe longer he walked hastilie to and fro. Thus I remained, cut strait and short after ye Puritanicall fashion I agonized in tears, unable to recall one word of ye soe hate, but curled like their uncle's. humble appeal I had pondered on my journey, or I have writ, not ye particulars, but yo issue of to have spoken it, though I had known everie my journey, unto Rose, whose loving heart, I syllable by rote ; yet not wishing myself, even in know, yearns for tidings. Alsoe, more brieflie that suspense, shame, and anguish, elsewhere than unto my mother, who loveth not Mr. Milton. where I was cast, at mine husband's feet. Or ever I was aware, he had come up, and
BARBICAN. caught me to his breast ; then, holding me back September.—In ye night season, we take noe 800 as to look me in ye face, sayd, in accents I rest; we search out our hearts, and commune shall never forget,
with our spiritts, and checque our souls' accounts, “Much I coulde say to reproach, but will not ! before we dare court our sleep; but in ye day of Henceforth, let us onlie recall this darke passage happinesse we cut shorte our reckonings; and here of our deeplie sinfulle lives, to quicken us to God's am I, a joyfulle wife, too proud and busie amid my mercy in affording us this reünion. Let it deepen dailie cares to have leisure for more than a brief our penitence, enhance our gratitude.”
note in my Diarium, as Ned woulde call it. 'Tis Then, suddainlie covering up his face with his a large house, with more rooms than we can fill, hands, he gave two or three sobs; and for some even with the Phillips' and their scholar-mates, fow minutes coulde not refrayn himself; but, when olde Mr. Milton, and my husband's books to boot. at length he uncovered his eyes and looked down I feel pleasure in being housewifelie ; and reape on me with goodness and sweetnesse, 't was like the the benefit of alle that I learnt of this sorte at sun's cleare shining after raine. *
Sheepscote. Mine husband's eyes follow me with
delight; and once with a perplexed yet pleased Shall I now destroy yo disgracefulle records of smile, he sayd to me, “Sweet wife, thou art this blotted book? I think not ; for 't will quicken strangelie altered; it seems as though I have me perhaps, as my husband sayth, to “deeper indeede lost "sweet Moll' after alle!” penitence and stronger gratitude," shoulde I hence- Yes, I am indeed changed ; more than he knows forthe be in danger of settling on yo lees, and for- or coulde believe. And he is changed too. With getting ye deepe waters which had nearlie closed payn I perceive a more stern, severe tone occasionover mine head. At present, I am soe joyfulle, allie used by him; doubtlesse the cloke assumed soe light of heart under yo sense of forgiveness, by his griefe to hide the ruin I had made within. that it seemeth as though sorrow coulde lay hold Yet a more geniall influence is fast melting this of me noe more ; and yet we are still, as 't were, away. Agayn, I note with payn that he complayns disunited for awhile ; for my husband is agayn much of his eyes. At first, I observed he rubbed shifting house, and preparing to remove his them oft, and dared not mention it, believing that increased establishment into Barbican, where he his tears on account of me, sinfulle soul! had made hath taken a goodly mansion ; and, until it is ready, them smart. Soe, perhaps, they did in ye first I am to abide here. I might pleasantlie cavill at instance, for it appears they have beene ailing ever this ; but, in truth, will cavill at nothing now. since ye year I left him; and over-study, which
I am, by this, full persuaded that Ralph's tale my presence mighte have prevented, hath conduced concerning Miss Davies was a false lie.; though, to ye same ill effect. Whenever he now looks at at ye time, supposing it to have some color, it a lighted candle, he sees a sort of iris alle about inflamed my jealousie noe little. The cross spight it; and, this morning, he disturbed me by menof that youth led, under his sister's management, tioning that a total darknesse obscured everie thing to an issue his malice never forecast; and now, on ye left side of his eye, and that he even feared, though I might come at y truth for inquiry, I will sometimes, he might eventuallie lose yo sight of not soe much as even soil my mind with thinking both. “In which case,” he cheerfully sayd, of it agayn; for there is that truth in mine “you, deare wife, must become my lecturer as husband's eyes, which woulde silence ye slanders well as amanuensis, and content yourself to read to of a hundred liars. Chafed, irritated, he has me a world of crabbed books, in tongues that are beene, soe as to excite the sarcastic constructions not nor neede ever be yours, seeing that a woman of those who wish him evill ; but his soul, and his has ever enough of her own!” heart, and his mind require a flighte beyond Ralph's Then, more pensivelie, he added, " I discipline witt to comprehende ; and I know and feel that and tranquillize my mind on this subject, ever they are mine.
remembering, when the apprehension afflicts me, He hath just led in the two Phillips' to me, and that, as man lives not by bread alone, but by everie left us together. Jack lookt at me askance, and word that proceeds out of the mouth of God, so held aloof; but deare little Ned threw his arms man likewise lives not by sight alone, but by faith