forego, indeed, all society for the present, "that esca malorum, as Cicero calls it," and to retire wholly to himself. "Virtue,” he continues, "is more rigid than to be taken with delights; these vanities she leaves, for these she scorns herself; her paths are arduous and rough, but excellent, and pleasant to those who once have past them. Honour is a concomitant they have to entertain them in their journey, nay it becomes their servant, and, what is attended by all others, those who travel in that way have it to wait on them. And this effort of virtue has not, as in the vulgar acceptation; its dwelling on a hill; it crowds not in the multitude, but extra conspectum, as Seneca says, beyond the common prospect." He illustrates this further by some quotations from his favourite Tacitus. That there was no pedantry in this habit is proved by such familiar resort to it in an affectionate advice to his boy. At this time, indeed, as I shall presently show, he was living in the world of the illustrious thinkers of old, and had entitled himself to it as his own. He concludes his letter with the following eloquent and earnest remonstrance : "How comes it that your tutor should complain you are careless and remiss? It cannot be, when there is true affection, there should be indiligence and neglect; when studie is declined the desires are alienated from the virtue; for no ends are attained without the means, and the neglect of that shows a diversion from the other. If it be since my last, I must resume my fears, that though your own judgment did not guide you, my cautions should be lost. If it should be hereafter, when that advise, those reasons, and the commands and authority of a father (a father most indulgent to the happiness of his child), which I now give you, -to redeem the time is spent, to redeem the studies you have missed, and to redeem yourself who are ingaged to danger, or that hazard and adventure, if these make no impressions, and these must be read in the characters of your course; if they work not an alteration; if they cause not a new diligency and intention; an intention of yourself, and intention of the object, virtue; an intention of the means, your study, and an exact intention of the time to improve it to that end; - I shall then receive that wound, which I thank God no enemy could give me, sorrow and affliction of the mind, and that from him from whom I hoped the contrary. But I still hope, and the more confidently for the promise which your letters have assured me. Let it be bettered in performance by your future care and diligence, which shall be accompanied with the prayers and blessings of your most loving father.

Ultimately Eliot, having been much entreated to it by his son John, consents that he shall go abroad, and writes to Hampden mentioning this, adding his desire, that, before the youth's departure, he should endeavour to obtain his "licence," or degree, at Oxford. He forwards at the same time a letter of advice and instruction, respecting a course and object in travel. He is particular in his directions as to the places to be visited, in what order, and with what purpose. He shows in this a lively knowledge of the state of politics on the Continent. "Be careful," he urges in conclusion, "in your religion, make your devotions frequent, seeke the blessing from above, drawe your imitation to goode patternes, lett not vaine pedantries deceive you, prepare your estimation by your virtue, which your own carriage and example must acquire, wherein you have assistants in the most earnest prayers and wishes of your loving father." In the same communication to Hampden, Eliot sends an expression of his views respecting his younger son, Richard. He considers that the best mode of employing with a good purpose his quick and vivacious humour, will be to send him to the Netherlands, to learn the art of war, in the company of sir Horace Vere. A passage from Hampden's reply on these points, which is charmingly written, will properly close this subject. ame so perfectly acquainted," he says, "with yr cleare insight into the dispositions of men, and ability to fitt them with courses suitable, that had you bestowed sonnes

"I

of mine as you have done yr owne, my judgmt durst hardly have called it into question, especially when in laying downe yr designe you have prevented the objections to be made agt it: for if Mr. Richard Eliot will, in the intermissions of action, adde study to practice, and adorne that lively spiritt with flowers of contemplation, he'll raise our expectations of another sir Edward [Horace] Vere, that had this character, all summer in the field, all winter in his study, in whose fall fame makes this kingdome a great looser: and having taken this resolution from counsaile with the Highest Wisdom (as I doubt not but you have), I hope and pray the same Power will crown it with a blessing answerable to your

wish."

It is a great privilege to be thus admitted to the private thoughts and conduct of such men as Eliot and Hampden. The secret of their public exertions is here expressed. It is by the strength and right direction of the private affections, that we are taught the duty of serving mankind. The more intense the faculty of enjoyment and comfort in the narrow circle of family regards, the more readily is its indulgence sacrificed in behalf of the greater family of man. The severity of Eliot in the house of commons is explained by the tender sweetness of these letters from the Tower.

Without a hope of release, Eliot's imprisonment continued. The whole county of Cornwall, I learn from a manuscript letter, petitioned the king for his freedom1, but no answer was deigned. Sustained by the genius of Wentworth, Charles's tyranny was now open and undisguised; and, in a royal proclamation, he had forbidden even the name of parliament to pass the lips of the people.1 Eliot was not even suffered to remain quietly in his wretched lodging. He was removed from place to place, each one as " darke and smoaky" as the first. "The lodging which I had upon my first reremove before Christmas," he writes to sir Oliver Luke, "being again altered, I may saie of my lodgings in the Tower as Jacob for his wages, 'Now, then, ten times have they chaunged it;' but, I thank God, not once has it caused an alteration of my mind - so infinite is that mercie which has hitherto protected mee, and I doubt not but I shall find it with mee." He concludes by referring to some "light papers" which seem to have engaged him in the intervals of his greater work. "When you have wearied your good thoughts with those light papers that I sent you, return them with the corrections of your judgment. I may one day send you others of more worth, if it please God to continue me this leisure and my health, but the best can be but broken, and in patches from him that dares not hazard to gather them. Such thinges, from me, falling like the leaves in autumn soe variously and uncertainly, that they hardly meet again - but with you I am confident what else my weakness shall present will have a faire acceptance. This allusion to his health was ominous.

already begun to threaten him.

دو

Sickness had

Some days after this, he writes to his kinsman Knightley (whose son afterwards married one of Hampden's daughters), a description of what he conceives to have been the commencement of his disorder, the

colds of his prison. "For the present I am wholly at a stand, and have been soe for this fortnight by a sicknesse which it has pleased my master to impose, in whose hands remain the issues of life and death. It comes originally from my colds, with which the cough having been long upon me causes such ill effects to follow it, that the symptoms are more dangerous than the grief; it has weakened much both the apetite and concoction, and the outward strength; by that some doubt there is of a consumption, but we endeavour to prevent it by application of the means, and, as the great physition, seek the blessing from the Lord." Good humour and easy quiet, however, did not desert him, though his disease steadily advanced. A week after the date of the foregoing, he writes to Hampden, - " Lately my business hath been much with doctors, so that, but by them, I have had little trouble with myself. These three weeks I have had a full leasure to do nothing, and strictly tied unto it either by their direction or my weakness. The cause originally was a cold, but the symptoms that did follow it spake more sickness; a gradual indisposition it begot in all the faculties of the bodie. The learned said a consumption did attend it, but I thank God I did not feel or credit it. What they advised as the ordinance that's appointed I was content to use, and in the time I was a patient, suffered whatever they imposed. Great is the authority of princes, but greater much is their's who both command our purses and our wills. What the success of their government wills, must be referred to him that is master of their power. I find myself bettered, though not well, which makes me the more readie to observe them. The divine blessing must effectuate their wit that medicine that has hitherto protected me, and will continue me amongst other affairs to remain your faithfull friend." It is affecting to observe, even in his manner of writing, a characteristic of the fatal disorder that had seized him.

it is

As his illness became more determined, the severity of