SIR,—­The lady was in the right.  You are a very pretty gentleman and a modest; were there ever such stories as these you tell?  The best on’t is, I believe none of them unless it be that of my Lady Newport, which I must confess is so like her that if it be not true ’twas at least excellently well fancied.  But my Lord Rich was not caught, tho’ he was near it.  My Lady Devonshire, whose daughter his first wife was, has engaged my Lord Warwick to put a stop to the business.  Otherwise, I think his present want of fortune, and the little sense of honour he has, might have been prevailed on to marry her.

’Tis strange to see the folly that possesses the young people of this age, and the liberty they take to themselves.  I have the charity to believe they appear very much worse than they are, and that the want of a Court to govern themselves by is in great part the cause of their ruin; though that was no perfect school of virtue, yet Vice there wore her mask, and appeared so unlike herself that she gave no scandal.  Such as were really discreet as they seemed to be gave good example, and the eminency of their condition made others strive to imitate them, or at least they durst not own a contrary course.  All who had good principles and inclinations were encouraged in them, and such as had neither were forced to put on a handsome disguise that they might not be out of countenance at themselves.  ’Tis certain (what you say) that where divine or human laws are not positive we may be our own judges; nobody can hinder us, nor is it in itself to be blamed.  But, sure, it is not safe to take all liberty that is allowed us,—­there are not many that are sober enough to be trusted with the government of themselves; and because others judge us with more severity than our indulgence to ourselves will permit, it must necessarily follow that ’tis safer being ruled by their opinions than by our own.  I am disputing again, though you told me my fault so plainly.

I’ll give it over, and tell you that Parthenissa is now my company.  My brother sent it down, and I have almost read it.  ’Tis handsome language; you would know it to be writ by a person of good quality though you were not told it; but, on the whole, I am not very much taken with it.  All the stories have too near a resemblance with those of other romances, there is nothing new or surprenant in them; the ladies are all so kind they make no sport, and I meet only with one that took me by doing a handsome thing of the kind.  She was in a besieged town, and persuaded all those of her sex to go out with her to the enemy (which were a barbarous people) and die by their swords, that the provisions of the town might last the longer for such as were able to do service in defending it.  But how angry was I to see him spoil this again by bringing out a letter this woman left behind her for the governor of the town, where she discovers a passion for him, and makes that the reason why she did it.  I confess I have no