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and redresse the greif, the care, and if you can, the love of

Dear Brother,
Your most affectionat sister,

W. THIMELBY.

Sweet Keals hart can take no change. She has all resentments due, yet none of change her steady temper. She is hapy in spyt of fate.

power to

* The word resentment in this place means feeling. See letter lix,

LETTER LXXV.

Septem. 2, 1672. HOND. DEARE BROTHER, Kent has received yours with all dutifull (that is unexpressible) ioy; and kyndly flatters me into beleefe you'l receive her answer, as wil. lingly 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 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.

LETTER LXXVI.

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 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.

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