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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. He was a Protestant king governing a Protestant

The foregoing correspondence, it should be added, is derived from the family of Dr. Hurd,

DR. THOMAS DICK.

THE claims of Dr. Thomas Dick, of Scotland,

people, and he considered the extension of political Bishop of Worcester. privileges to the members of any religious profession outside the circle of Protestantism as an act of treason against the solemn trust committed to his hands. His severity on this point was 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 subject, when they led him, as a matter of conscience, to part with Pitt and take up with Addington.

obligation upon individuals, for accomplishing the object recommended by Mr. Burritt. Some system of coöperation, by those who recognize the obligation, is necessary to ensure the discharge of this debt which is due to this learned author.—Daily Advertiser.

have been lately brought to the attention of the public. For the purpose of presenting this case to 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. Pitt 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 his majesty had not the faintest suspicion of Pitt's tactics in bringing about this very change, which his majesty believed was the result of his own influence and sagacity, or of the reasons which induced Pitt to give occasional assistance to his 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 garrobbed his table of everything save the vegetables other excellent attributes, do not always go together; but it was hardly worth while to congratu-been a literal fact. late his majesty on having made the discovery.

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It is a trite saying, that firmness in a good cause is obstinacy in a bad one; but it will scarcely apply to George III.'s resistance to those measures of toleration which wero afterwards carried by George IV. He acted under a stern sense of obligations which had been respected in the same sense by his predecessors, from the time of the settlement of the kingdom in 1688. He was not without precedent, and a sort of royal and con

den. This, we can state on good authority, has

While spending a day or two under his roof, two or three years ago, we were persuaded, that the thousands who have read and enjoyed his works in America, if they knew his circumstances, would most heartily contribute to a testimonial which should be to him a more available expression of esteem than bare words, however complimentary, could convey.

And a few months after this visit, we ventured to sound him upon the subject of such a testimonial, with the view to ascertain whether, and how, it could be made agreeable to his feel

ings; also to elicit some statements in reference to his circumstances, which might serve as the basis of the appeal which we proposed to address to his friends in America. In answer to this communication we received the following letter:

"Broughty Ferry, near Dundee, June 2, 1848. "DEAR FRIEND: I return you many thanks for your kind proposals of a testimonial from America; but scarcely know what reply to make to it. About the close of 1846, the American consul at Dundee, Edward Baxter, Esq., proposed to me to allow him to make a representation, and to transmit a memorial to Baltimore, Boston, New York, and Albany, but I have heard nothing of the result since, and I have not seen Mr. Baxter for more than a year past. It is true I have made comparatively little in a pecuniary respect for the volumes I have published. For the Christian Philosopher' I received only $120 for the entire copyright. This work has passed through ten large editions, and I presume the publisher has realized upon it, of clear profit, at least £1,800.

circulation on both sides of the Atlantic. He is now on the verge of eighty, and he can write no more for the world. But to crown the climax of this unfortunate condition, the little annual income which he had saved out of all his years of arduous labor, to sustain himself and family, when he could earn nothing more with his pen for their subsistence-that too has failed at this hour of trial and affliction; and from intelligence received by the last steamer, the good man is reduced to a state of almost entire destitution. All his resources are cut off, except the respect and sympathy of those who have profited by his works. And now, at this late hour, we would appeal to all his friends in America to testify their sense of his worth, and of their obligation to his labors, in a way which shall administer that aid and comfort to these last years of his life, which words cannot give. If the American publishers, who have realized fortunes out of the free plunder of his talents and genius, would send him a cent a volume on all the editions of his works which they have sold, it would place him in opulence. But they will not do this; it would be establishing a dangerous precedent for their trade, to admit the slightest moral obligation

"For the copyright of the Philosophy of a Future State' I have received £80. For The 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 cach-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 erate, 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 admitted into John Watson's Hospital, Edinburgh. Their parents died in the prime of life, within thirteen days of each other, six years ago. My sister, Mrs. M., has also been dependent upon me

since that time.

"At the same time, I know not what to say in reference to your kind proposal. A little addition to my present income would certainly be acceptable; and if your American brethren were to come spontaneously forward to offer a sum as a testimonial that they had derived some benefit from my writings, I would not refuse it. For they have been enabled to possess my writings at a much cheaper rate than in this country, in consequence of my not having a copyright in America. But I would not urge any such claim, unless it seemed to be granted spontaneously. But as the post is just leaving, and this is the only day in which I have been able to write for some time, I must conclude.

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Since the receipt of this letter, the venerable Dr. Dick has been brought to the very gates of the grave by sickness. For days he seemed to be on the very confines of another world, and all hopes of his recovery were relinquished by his friends. But he was marvellously raised up again, to encounter a new experience of misfortune and privation. The copyrights of his books are all sold, and their revenue consumed. Not a farthing comes back to him from the millions of volumes of his works in VOL. XXIV. 9

CCXCVI.

LIVING AGE.

their respective communities without delay. Any sums may be transmitted immediately to the Doctor through Harnden & Co., Boston. We shall be most happy to receive and forward any contributions to him which may be entrusted to our care. If it were not too much to wish, we should be glad and grateful if the readers of the Citizen, as a social circle, would raise and send a special testimonial of their regard for the good man. If they would contribute, on an average, twenty-five cents each for this object, it would be a noble offering. What say they to this proposition?

Bills of exchange, or money orders, can be procured of Harnden & Co., or of any of their branches, for any sum, we believe, from £1 to £1,000. Dr. Dick's post office address is Broughty Ferry, near Dundee, Scotland. If it is not convenient to obtain a money order of Harnden & Co. for a small sum, an English sovereign may be transmitted to Broughty Ferry, in a letter, by attaching it to a card, enclosed in an envelope just large enough to admit it. A sovereign, with a note on thin paper, weighs less than half an ounce, and the postage could be only twenty-four cents through. be regularly acknowledged in the Citizen. All the contributions entrusted to our care, will

We now leave the proposition with our readers, awaiting such a response as their generous symE. B. pathies may dictate.

[The Editor of the Living Age will be glad to receive, and forward through Mr. Burritt, with his own tribute, the contributions of any of his readers.]

April, 1646.-Can aniething equall y desperate ingratitude of the human heart? Testifie of it, journall, agaynst me. Here did I, throughout the incessant cares and anxieties of Robin's sicknesse, find, or make time, for almoste dailie record of my trouble; since which, whole months have passed without soe much as a scrawled ejaculation of thankfullenesse that y sick hath beene made whole.

Yet, not that that thankfullenesse hath beene unfelt, nor, though unwritten, unexprest. Nay, O Lord, deeplie, deeplie, have I thanked thee for thy tender mercies. And he healed soe slowlie, that

Did Rose know y bitter-sweet she was imparting to me, when she gave me, by stealth as 't were y latelie publisht volume of my husband's English versing? It hath beene my companion ever since; for I had perused ye Comus but by snatches, under y disadvantage of crabbed manuscript. This morning, to use his owne deare words :I sat me down to watch, upon a bank, With ivy canopied, and interwove With flaunting honeysuckle, and beganne, Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholie,

To meditate.

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The text of my meditation was this, drawne

suspense, as 't were, wore itself out, and gave from y same loved source:—
place to a dull, mournful persuasion that an hy-
dropsia would waste him away, though more slow-
lie, yet noe less surelie than the fever.

Soe weeks lengthened into months, I mighte well say years, they seemed soe long! and stille he seemed to neede more care and tendernesse; till, just as he and I had learnt to say, "Thy will, O Lord, be done," he began to gain flesh, his craving appetite moderated, yet his food nourished him, and by God's blessing he recovered!

During that heavie season of probation, our hearts were unlocked, and we spake oft to one another of things in heaven and things in earth. Afterwards, our mutuall reserves returned, and Robin, methinks, became shyer than before, but there can never cease to be a dearer bond between

us.

Now we are apart, I aim to keep him mindfulle of the high and holie resolutions he formed in his sicknesse; and though he never answers these portions of my letters, I am avised to think he finds them not displeasing.

Now that Oxford is like to be besieged, my life is more confined than ever; yet I cannot, and will not leave father and mother, even for the Agnews, while they are soe much harassed. This morning, my father hath received a letter from Sir Thomas Glemham, requiring a larger quantitie of winnowed wheat, than, with alle his loyaltie, he likes to send.

23d.-Ralph Hewlett hath just looked in to say, his father and mother have in safetie reached London, where he will shortlie joyn them, and to ask, is there anie service he can doe me? Ay, truly; one that I dare not name-he can bring me word of Mr. Milton, of his health, of his looks, of his speech, and whether

Ralph shall be noe messenger of mine.

24th.—Talking of money matters this mornIng, mother sayd something that brought tears into mine eyes. She observed, that though my husband had never beene a favorite of hers, there was one thing wherein she must say he had behaved generously: he had never, to this day, askt father for y 500l. which had brought him, in ye first instance, to Forest Hill, (he having promised old Mr. Milton to try to get y debt paid,) and the which, on his asking for my hand, father tolde him shoulde be made over sooner or later, in lieu of dower.

This I hold firm:
Virtue may be assayled, but never hurt,
Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled;
Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm,
Shall, in ye happy trial, prove most glory.

But who hath such virtue? have I hath he! No, we have both gone astray, and done amiss, and wrought sinfullie; but I worst, I first, therefore more neede that I humble myself, and pray for both.

There is one, more unhappie, perhaps, than either. The king, most misfortunate gentleman! who knoweth not which way to turn, nor whom to trust. Last time I saw him, methought never was there a face soe full of woe.'

May 6th. The king hath escaped! He gave orders overnight at alle y gates, for three persons to passe; and, accompanied onlie by Mr. Ashburnham, and Mr. Hurd, rode forthe at nightfalle, towards London. Sure, he will not throw himselfe into ye hands of parliament?

Mother is affrighted beyond measure at y near neighborhood of Fairfax's army, and entreats father to leave alle behind, and flee with us into y city. It may yet be done; and we alle share her feares.

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Tuesday.-Oxford; in most confined and unpleasant lodgings; but noe matter, manie better and richer than ourselves fare worse, and our king hath not where to lay his head. 'Tis sayd he hath turned his course towards Scotland. There are souldiers in this house, whose noise distracts us. Alsoe, a poor widow lady, whose husband hath beene slayn in these wars. The children have taken a feverish complaynt, and require incessant tending. Theire beds are far from cleane, in too little space, and ill aired.

May 20th.-The widow lady goes about visiting

I see the Agnews, true friends! riding hither; and with them a third, who, methinks, is Rose's brother Ralph.

the sick, and would faine have my companie. | solateness. The streets have displeased me, being soe fulle of men; however, in a close hoode I have accompanied her sundrie times. 'Tis a good soul, and full of pious works and alms-deedes.

27th.-Diggory hath found his way to us, alle dismaied, and bringing dismay with him, for y rebels have taken and ransacked our house, and turned him forthe. "A plague on these wars!" as father says. What are we to doe, or how live, despoyled of alle? Father hath lost, one way and another, since y civil war broke out, three thousand pounds, and is now nearlie beggared. Mother weeps bitterlie, and father's countenance hath fallen more than ever I saw it before. "Nine children!" he exclaimed, just now; "and onlie one provided for!" His eye fell upon me for a moment, with less tendernesse than usuall, as though he wished me in Aldersgate Street. I'm sure I wish I were there,-not because father is in misfortune; oh, no.

June. The Parliament requireth our unfortunate King to issue orders to this and alle his other garrisons, commanding theire surrender; and father, finding this is likelie to take place forthwith, is busied in having himself comprised within y articles of surrender. 'T will be hard indeede, shoulde this be denied. His estate lying in y King's quarters, how coulde he doe less than adhere to his M' partie during this unnaturall war? I am sure mother grudged y royalists everie goose and turkey they had from our yard.

27th.-Praised be Heaven, deare father hath just received Sir Thomas Fairfax's protection, empowering him quietlie and without let to goe forthe "with servants, horses, arms, goods, etc." to "London or elsewhere," whithersoever he will. And though yo protection extends but over six months, at y expiry of which time, father must take measures to embark for some place of refuge beyond seas, yet who knows what may turn up in those six months! The King may enjoy his owne agayn. Meantime, we immediatelie leave Oxford.

Forest Hill.-At home agayn; and what a home! Everiething to seeke, everiething misplaced, broken, abused, or gone altogether! The gate off its hinges; y stone balls of y pillars overthrowne, y great bell stolen, the clipt junipers grubbed up, the sun-diall broken! Not a hen or chicken, duck or duckling, left! Crab half-starved, and soe glad to see us, that he dragged his kennel after him. Daisy and Blanch making such piteous moans at y paddock gate, that I could not bear it, but helped Lettice to milk them. Within doors, everie room smelling of beer and tobacco; cupboards broken open, etc. On my chamber floor, a greasy steeple-crowned hat! Threw it forthe from the window with a pair of tongs.

Mother goes about y house weeping. Father sits in his broken arm-chair, y picture of discon

LONDON.

St. Martin's le Grand.-Trembling, weeping, hopefulle, dismaied, here I sit in mine uncle's hired house, alone in a crowd, scared at mine owne precipitation, readie to wish myself back, unable to resolve, to reflect, to pray.

Twelve at night. Alle is silent; even in y latelie busie streets. Why art thou cast down, my heart? why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou stille in y Lord, for he is the joy and light of thy countenance. Thou hast beene long of learning him to be such. Oh, forget not thy lesson now! Thy best friend hath sanctioned, nay, counselled this step, and overcome alle obstacles, and provided the means of this journey; and to-morrow at noone, if events prove not cross, I shall have speech of him whom my soul loveth. To-night, let me watch, fast, and pray.

Friday; at night.-How awfulle it is to beholde a man weepe! mine owne tears, when I think thereon, well forthe *

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Rose was a true friend when she sayd Our prompt affections are oft our wise counsellors." Soe, she suggested and advised alle; wrung forthe my father's consent, and sett me on my way, even putting money in my purse. Well for me, bad she beene at my journey's end as well as its beginning.

'Stead of which, here was onlie mine aunt; a slow, timid, uncertayn soule, who proved but a broken reed to lean upon.

Soe, alle I woulde have done arighte went crosse, the letter never delivered, y message delayed till he had left home, soe that methought I shoulde goe crazie.

While the boy, stammering in his lame excuses, bore my chafed reproaches y more humblie because he saw he had done me some grievous hurt, though he knew not what, a voice in y° adjacent chamber in alternation with mine Uncle's, drove the blood of a suddain from mine heart, and then sent it back with impetuous rush, for I knew the accents right well.

Enters mine Aunt, alle flurried, and hushing her voice. "Oh, niece, he whom you wot of is here, but knoweth not you are at hand, nor in London. Shall I tell him?"

But I gasped, and held her by her skirts; then, with a suddain secret prayer, or cry, or maybe, wish, as 't were, darted up unto heaven for assistance, I took noe thought what I shoulde speak when confronted with him, but opening y door between us, he then standing with his back towards it, rushed forth and to his feet-there sank, in a gush of tears; for not one word coulde I proffer, nor soe much as look up.

A quick hand was laid on my head, on my shoulder-as quicklie removed and I

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 y° 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 to have spoken it, though I had known everie syllable by rote; yet not wishing myself, even in that suspense, shame, and anguish, elsewhere than where I was cast, at mine husband's feet.

Or ever I was aware, he had come up, and caught me to his breast; then, holding me back soe as to look me in y face, sayd, in accents I shall never forget,

"Much I coulde say to reproach, but will not! Henceforth, let us onlie recall this darke passage of our deeplie sinfulle lives, to quicken us to God's mercy in affording us this reünion. Let it deepen our penitence, enhance our gratitude."

Then, suddainlie covering up his face with his hands, he gave two or three sobs; and for some few minutes coulde not refrayn himself; but, when at length he uncovered his eyes and looked down on me with goodness and sweetnesse, 't was like the sun's cleare shining after raine.

Shall I now destroy y disgracefulle records of this blotted book? I think not; for 't will quicken me perhaps, as my husband sayth, to "deeper penitence and stronger gratitude," shoulde I henceforthe be in danger of settling on y° lees, and forgetting y deepe waters which had nearlie closed over mine head. At present, I am soe joyfulle, soe light of heart under y sense of forgiveness, that it seemeth as though sorrow coulde lay hold of me noe more; and yet we are still, as 't were, disunited for awhile; for my husband is agayn shifting house, and preparing to remove his increased establishment into Barbican, where he hath taken a goodly mansion; and, until it is ready, I am to abide here. I might pleasantlie cavill at this; but, in truth, will cavill at nothing now.

I have writ, not ye particulars, but ye issue of my journey, unto Rose, whose loving heart, I know, yearns for tidings. Alsoe, more brieflie unto my mother, who loveth not Mr. Milton.

BARBICAN.

September.-In ye night season, we take noe rest; we search out our hearts, and commune with our spiritts, and checque our souls' accounts, before we dare court our sleep; but in ye day of happinesse we cut shorte our reckonings; and here am I, a joyfulle wife, too proud and busie amid my dailie cares to have leisure for more than a brief note in my Diarium, as Ned woulde call it. "Tis a large house, with more rooms than we can fill, even with the Phillips' and their scholar-mates, olde Mr. Milton, and my husband's books to boot. I feel pleasure in being housewifelie; and reape the benefit of alle that I learnt of this sorte at Sheepscote. Mine husband's eyes follow me with delight; and once with a perplexed yet pleased smile, he sayd to me, "Sweet wife, thou art strangelie altered; it seems as though I have indeede lost sweet Moll' after alle!"

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Yes, I am indeed changed; more than he knows or coulde believe. And he is changed too. With payn I perceive a more stern, severe tone occasionallie used by him; doubtlesse the cloke assumed by his griefe to hide the ruin I had made within. Yet a more geniall influence is fast melting this away. Agayn, I note with payn that he complayns much of his eyes. At first, I observed he rubbed them oft, and dared not mention it, believing that his tears on account of me, sinfulle soul! had made them smart. Soe, perhaps, they did in ye first instance, for it appears they have beene ailing ever since ye year I left him; and over-study, which my presence mighte have prevented, hath conduced to ye same ill effect. Whenever he now looks at a lighted candle, he sees a sort of iris alle about it; and, this morning, he disturbed me by mentioning that a total darknesse obscured everie thing on ye left side of his eye, and that he even feared, sometimes, he might eventuallic lose y sight of both. "In which case," he cheerfully sayd,

I am, by this, full persuaded that Ralph's tale concerning Miss Davies was a false lie; though, at y time, supposing it to have some color, it inflamed my jealousie noe little. The cross spight of that youth led, under his sister's management, to an issue his malice never forecast; and now, though I might come at y truth for inquiry, I will not soe much as even soil my mind with thinking of it agayn; for there is that truth in mine" you, deare wife, must become my lecturer as husband's eyes, which woulde silence y slanders of a hundred liars. Chafed, irritated, he has beene, soe as to excite the sarcastic constructions of those who wish him evill; but his soul, and his heart, and his mind require a flighte beyond Ralph's witt to comprehende; and I know and feel that they are mine.

He hath just led in the two Phillips' to me, and left us together. Jack lookt at me askance, and held aloof; but deare little Ned threw his arms

well as amanuensis, and content yourself to read to me a world of crabbed books, in tongues that are not nor neede ever be yours, seeing that a woman has ever enough of her own!"

Then, more pensivelie, he added, "I discipline and tranquillize my mind on this subject, ever remembering, when the apprehension afflicts me, that, as man lives not by bread alone, but by everie word that proceeds out of the mouth of God, so man likewise lives not by sight alone, but by faith

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