Letters to Severall Persons of Honour Part 7

_SIR_,

If I would go out of my way for excuses, or if I did not go out of my way from them; I might avoid writing now because I cannot chuse but know, that you have in this town abler servants, and better understanding the persons and pa.s.sages of this Court. But my hope is not in the application of other mens merits, to me however abundant. Besides, this town hath since our comming hither, afforded enough for all to say. That which was done here the 25 of _March_, and which was so long called a publication of the marriages, was no otherwise publique then that the Spa[nish] Amba.s.sador, having that day an audience, delivered to the Queen that his Master was well pleased with all those particulars which had been formerly treated.

And the French Amba.s.sador in _Spain_ is said to have had instruction, to do the same office in that Court, the same day. Since that, that is to say, these 4 last days, it hath been solemnized with more outward bravery then this Court is remembered to have appeared in. The main bravery was the number of horses which were above 800 Caparazond. Before the daies, the town was full of the 5 Challengers cartells, full of Rodomontades: but in the execution, there were noe personall reencounters, nor other triall of any ability, then running at the Quintain, and the Ring. Other particulars of this, you cannot chuse but hear too much, since at this time there come to you so many French men. But lest you should beleeve too much, I present you these 2 precautions, that for their Gendarmery, there was no other trial then I told you; & for their bravery, no true stuffe.

You must of necessity have heard often of a Book written against the Popes jurisdiction, about three moneths since, by one _Richer_, a D{r} and Syndique of the Sorbonists, which Book hath now been censured by an a.s.sembly of the Clergie of this Archbishop.r.i.c.k, promoved with so much diligence by the Cardinall _Peroun_ [_du Perron_], that for this businesse he hath intermitted his replie to the Kings answer, which now he retires to intend seriously: I have not yet had the honour to kisse his Graces hand, though I have received some half-invitations to do it. _Richer_ was first accused to the Parliament, but when it was there required of his delators to insist upon some propositions in his Book, which were either against Scripture, or the Gallican Church, they desisted in that pursuit.

But in the censure which the Clergie hath made, though it be full of modifications and reservations of the rights of the King, and the Gallican Churches, there is this iniquitie, that being to be published by commandment of the a.s.sembly, in all the Churches of _Paris_, which is within that Diocese, and almost all the Curates of the Parishes of _Paris_ being Sorbonists, there is by this means a strong party of the Sorbonists themselves raised against _Richer_; yet against this censure, and against three or four which have opposed _Richer_ in print, he meditates an answer. Before it should come forth I desired to speak with him, for I had said to some of the Sorbonist of his party, that there was no proposition in his Book, which I could not shew in Catholique authors of 300 years: I had from him an a.s.signation to meet, and at the hour he sent me his excuse, which was, that he had been traduced to have had conference with the Amba.s.sadors of _England_, and the States, and with the D[uke] of _Bovillon_, and that he had accepted a pension of the King of _England_; and withall, that it had been very well testified to him that day, that the Jesuits had offered to corrupt men with rewards to kill him. Which I doubt not but he apprehended for true, because a messenger whom I sent to fixe another time of meeting with him, found him in an extreme trembling, and irresolutions: so that I had no more, but an intreaty to forbear comming to his house, or drawing him out of it, till it might be without danger or observation. They of the Religion held a Synod at this time in this Town, in which the princ.i.p.all businesse is to rectifie, or at least to mature, against their Provinciall Synod, which shall be held in _May_, certain opinions of _Tilenus_ a Divine of _Sedan_, with which the Churches of _France_ are scandalized. The chief point is, Whether our salvation be to be attributed to the pa.s.sive merit of Christ, which is his death, or to his active also, which is his fulfilling of the Law. But I doubt not but that will be well composed, if _Tilenus_ who is here in person with two other a.s.sistants, bring any disposition to submit himself to the Synod, and not onely to dispute. I doe (I thank G.o.d) naturally and heartily abhorre all schism in Religion so much, as, I protest, I am sorry to finde this appearance of schism amongst our adversaries the Sorbonists; for I had rather they had held together, to have made a head against the usurpations of the Ro[man] Church, then that their disuniting should so enfeeble them, as that the Parliament should be left alone to stand against those tyrannies. Sir, you will pardon my extravagancies in these relations. I look upon nothing so intentively as these things, nor fals there any thing within my knowledge, which I would conceal from you.

Though it concern not you to know it, yet me thinks it concerns me to tell it. That _Cook_ of which you writ to me, is come hither, and hath brought me other Letters, but not those of which you writ to me, which pacquet, he saies, you received again of him; whether by his falshood, or by your diligence in seeking a worthier messenger, I know not; but I am sure I never lost any thing with more sorrow, because I am thereby left still in uncertainties, and irresolutions, of that which I desire much to know in womens businesses. If you write this way any more, chuse no other means, then by M{r} _Bruer_ at the Queens Arms, a Mercer in _Cheapside_: he shall alwaies know where we are, and we are yet in a purpose to go from hence within a fortnight, and dispose our selves to be at _Frankford_ the 25 of _May_, when the election of the Emperor shall be there. Though I be meerly pa.s.sive in all this pilgrimage, yet I shall be willing to advance that design; because upon my promise that I would doe so, Sir _Rob. Rich_ gave me his, that he would divert from his way to _Italy_ so much, as to be there then. When I came to this Town I found M{r} _Matthew_, diligent to finde a means to write to you; so that at this time, when there go so many, I cannot doubt but he provides himself, therefore I did not ask his commandement, nor offer him the service of this Pacquet. Sir, you are not evener to your self, in your most generall wishes of your own good, then I am in my particular, of which none rises in me, that is not bent upon your enjoying of peace and reposednesse in your fortunes, in your affections, and in your conscience; more then which I know not how to wish to

_Your very affectionate servant and lover_ J. Donne.

Paris _the_ 9 Apr.

1612. _here_.

[xliii.]

_To Sir_ H. Wotton.

Octob. _the_ 4th 1622. _almost ad midnight._

_SIR_,

All our moralities are but our out-works, our Christianity is our Citadel; a man who considers duty but the dignity of his being a man, is not easily beat from his outworks, but from his Christianity never; and therefore I dare trust you, who contemplates them both. Every distemper of the body now, is complicated with the spleen, and when we were young men we scarce ever heard of the spleen. In our declinations now, every accident is accompanied with heavy clouds of melancholy; and in our youth we never admitted any. It is the spleen of the minde, and we are affected with vapors from thence; yet truly, even this sadnesse that overtakes us, and this yeelding to the sadnesse, is not so vehement a poison (though it be no Physick neither) as those false waies, in which we sought our comforts in our looser daies. You are able to make rules to your self, and our B[lessed] Saviour continue to you an ability to keep within those rules.

And this particular occasion of your present sadnesse must be helped by the rule, for, for examples you will scarce finde any, scarce any that is not encombred and distressed in his fortunes. I had locked my self, sealed and secured my self against all possibilities of falling into new debts, and in good faith, this year hath thrown me 400{l} lower then when I entred this house. I am a Father as well as you, and of children (I humbly thank G.o.d) of as good dispositions; and in saying so, I make account that I have taken my comparison as high as I could goe; for in good faith, I beleeve yours to be so: but as those my daughters (who are capable of such considerations) cannot but see my desire to accommodate them in this world, so I think they will not murmure if heaven must be their Nunnery, and they a.s.sociated to the B. virgins there: I know they would be content to pa.s.se their lives in a Prison, rather then I should macerate my self for them, much more to suffer the mediocrity of my house, and my means, though that cannot preferre them: yours are such too, and it need not that patience, for your fortune doth not so farre exercise their patience. But to leave all in G.o.ds hands, from whose hands nothing can be wrung by whining but by praying, nor by praying without the _Fiat voluntas tua_.

Sir, you are used to my hand, and, I think have leisure to spend some time in picking out sense, in ragges; else I had written lesse, and in longer time. Here is room for an _Amen_; the prayer----so I am going to my bedside to make for all you and all yours, with

_Your true friend and servant in Chr. Jesus_ J. Donne.

[xliv.]

A. V. _Merced_.

_SIR_,

I write not to you out of my poor Library, where to cast mine eye upon good Authors kindles or refreshes sometimes meditations not unfit to communicate to near friends; nor from the high way, where I am contracted, and inverted into my self; which are my two ordinary forges of Letters to you. But I write from the fire side in my Parler, and in the noise of three gamesome children; and by the side of her, whom because I have transplanted into a wretched fortune, I must labour to disguise that from her by all such honest devices, as giving her my company, and discourse, therefore I steal from her, all the time which I give this Letter, and it is therefore that I take so short a list, and gallop so fast over it. I have not been out of my house since I received your pacquet. As I have much quenched my senses, and disused my body from pleasure, and so tried how I can indure to be mine own grave, so I try now how I can suffer a prison. And since it is but to build one wall more about our soul, she is still in her own Center, how many circ.u.mferences soever fortune or our own perversnesse cast about her. I would I could as well intreat her to go out, as she knows whither to go. But if I melt into a melancholy whilest I write, I shall be taken in this manner: and I sit by one too tender towards these impressions, and it is so much our duty, to avoid all occasions of giving them sad apprehensions, as S. _Hierome_ accuses _Adam_ of no other fault in eating the Apple, but that he did it _Ne contristaretur delicias suas_. I am not carefull what I write, because the inclosed Letters may dignifie this ill favoured bark, and they need not grudge so course a countenance, because they are now to accompany themselves, my man fetched them, and therefore I can say no more of them then themselves say. M{ris} _Meauly_ intreated me by her Letter to hasten hers, as I think, for by my troth I cannot read it. My Lady was dispatching in so much haste for _Twicknam_, as she gave no word to a Letter which I sent with yours; of Sir _Tho. Bartlet_, I can say nothing, nor of the plague, though your Letter bid me: but that he diminishes, the other increases, but in what proportion I am not clear. To them at _Hammersmith_, and M{ris} _Herbert_ I will do your command. If I have been good in hope, or can promise any little offices in the future probably, it is comfortable, for I am the worst present man in the world; yet the instant, though it be nothing, joynes times together, and therefore this unprofitableness, since I have been, and will still indevour to be so, shall not interrupt me now from being

_Your servant and lover_ J. Donne.

[xlv.]

_To the best Knight Sir_ H. Wootton.

_SIR_,

When I saw your good Countesse last, she let me think that her message by her foot-man would hasten you up. And it furthered that opinion in me, when I knew how near M. _Mathews_ day of departing this kingdome was. To counterpoyse both these, I have a little Letter from you brought to me to _Micham_ yesterday, but left at my lodging two days sooner: and because that speaks nothing of your return, I am content to be perplexed in it: and as in all other, so in this perplexity to do that which is safest. To me it is safest to write, because it performes a duty, and leaves my conscience well: and though it seem not safest for the Letter, which may perish, yet I remember that in the Crociate [Crusade] for the warres in the _Holy Land_, and so in all Pilgrimages enterprised in devotion, he which dies in the way, enjoys all the benefit and indulgences which the end did afford. Howsoever, all that can encrease my merit; for, as where they immolate men, it is a scanter devotion, to sacrifice one of many slaves or of many children, or an onely child, then to beget and bring up one purposely to sacrifice it, so if I ordain this Letter purposely for destruction, it is the largest expressing of that kinde of piety, and I am easie to beleeve (because I wish it) your hast hither: Not that I can fear any slacknesse in that business which drew you down, because your fortune and honour are a paire of good spurs to it; but here also you have both true businesse and many _Quasi negotia_, which go two and two to a businesse; which are visitations, and such, as though they be not full businesses, yet are so near them that they serve as for excuses, in omissions of the other. As when abjuration was in use in this land, the State and law was satisfied if the abjuror came to the sea side, and waded into the sea, when windes and tydes resisted, so we think our selves justly excusable to our friends and our selves, if when we should do businesse, we come to the place of businesse, as Courts and the houses of great Princes and officers. I do not so much intimate your infirmity in this, as frankly confesse mine own. The master of Latine language says, _Oculi & aures aliorum te speculantur & custodiunt_. So those two words are synonimous, & only the observation of others upon me, is my preservation from extream idlenesse, else I professe, that I hate businesse so much, as I am sometimes glad to remember that the _Roman Church_ reads that verse _A negotio perambulante in tenebris_, which we reade from the pestilence walking by night, so equall to me do the plague and businesse deserve avoiding, but you will neither beleeve that I abhor businesse, if I enlarge this Letter, nor that I would afford you that ease which I affect. Therefore returne to your pleasures.

_Your unprofitablest friend_ J. Donne.

March 14. 1607[8].

_It is my third Letter: which I tell you, because I found not M{r}_ Rogers, _but left the Letter which I sent last, with a stranger at_ Cliffords Inne.

[xlvi.]

_To Sir_ H. G.

SIR,

This 14 of _November_ last I received yours of the 9, as I was in the street going to sup with my Lady _Bedford_; I found all that company forepossessed with a wonder why you came not last sat.u.r.day. I perceive, that as your intermitting your Letters to me, gave me reason to hope for you, so some more direct addresse or conscience of your businesse here, had imprinted in them an a.s.surance of your comming. This Letter shall but talke, not discourse; it shall but gossip, not consider, nor consult, so it is made halfe with a prejudice of being lost by the way. The King is gone this day for _Royston_: and hath left with the Queen a commandment to meditate upon a Masque for Christmas, so that they grow serious about that already; that will hasten my Lady _Bedfords_ journey, who goes within ten days from hence to her Lord, but by reason of this, can make no long stay there. _Justinian_ the _Venetian_ [amba.s.sador] is gone hence, and one _Carraw_ [_Carow_] come in his place: that State hath taken a fresh offence at a Friar, who refused to absolve a Gentleman, because he would not expresse in confession, what books of Father _Paul_, and such, he knew to be in the hands of any others; the State commanded him out of that territory in three hours warning, and he hath now submitted himself, and is returned as prisoner for _Mantua_, and so remains as yet. Sir _H.

Wootton_ who writ hither, addes also that upon his knowledge there are 14000 as good Protestants as he in that State. The Duke _Joyeuse_ is dead, in _Primont_ [_Peidmont_], returning from _Rome_, where M. _Mole_ [_Mole_]

who went with the L[ord] _Rosse_, is taken into the Inquisition, and I see small hope of his recovery, for he had in some translations of _Plessis_ books talked of _Babylon_ and Antichrist. Except it fall out that one _Strange_ a Jesuit in the Tower, may be accepted for him. To come a little nearer my self, Sir _Geffery Fenton_ one of his Majesties Secretaries in _Ireland_ is dead; and I have made some offer for the place, in preservation whereof, as I have had occasion to imploy all my friends, so I have not found in them all (except _Bedford_) more hast and words (for when those two are together, there is much comfort even in the least) then in the L. _Hay_. In good faith he promised so roundly, so abundantly, so profusely, as I suspected him, but performed what ever he undertook, (and my requests were the measures of his undertakings) so readily and truly, that his complements became obligations, and having spoke like a Courtier, did like a friend. This I tell you, because being farre under any ability of expressing my thankfulnesse to him by any proportionall service, I do, as much as I can, thank him by thanking of you, who begot, or nursed these good impressions of me in him. Sir, as my discretion would do, my fortune doth bring all my debts into one hand, for I owe you what ever Court friends do for me, yea, whatsoever I do for myself, because you almost importune me, to awake and stare the Court in the face. I know not yet what conjecture to make of the event. But I am content to go forward a little more in the madnesse of missing rather then not pretend; and rather wear out, then rust. It is extreme late; and as this Letter is nothing, so if ever it come to you, you will know it without a name, and therefore I may end it here.

[xlvii.]

_To the Honourable Knight Sir_ H. Goodere.

_SIR_,

Though you escape my lifting up of your latch by removing, you cannot my Letters; yet of this Letter I do not much accuse my self, for I serve your Commandment in it, for it is only to convey to you this paper opposed to those, with which you trusted me. It is (I cannot say the waightyest, but truly) the saddest lucubration and nights pa.s.sage that ever I had. For it exercised those hours, which, with extreme danger to her, whom I should hardly have abstained from recompensing for her company in this world, with accompanying her out of it, encreased my poor family with a son.

Though her anguish, and my fears, and hopes, seem divers and wild distractions from this small businesse of your papers, yet because they all narrowed themselves, and met in _Via regia_, which is the consideration of our selves, and G.o.d, I thought it time not unfit for this despatch. Thus much more then needed I have told you, whilest my fire was lighting at Tricombs [at] 10 a clock.

_Yours ever intirely_ J. Donne.

[xlviii.]

_To the Honourable Knight_ H. G.