Books printed for, and ſold by R. Wellington.

Familiar Letters:

Vol. I.

Written by the Right Honourable
John, late Earl of Rochester.
To the
Honble Henry Savile, Eſq;
And other Letters, by
Perſons of Honour and Quality.


Written by the moſt Ingenious
Mr. Thomas Otway,
Mrs. K. Phillips.

Publiſh’d from their Original Copies.

With Modern Letters, by Tho.
, Eſq; Mr. Dennis
And Mr. Brown.

The Fourth Edition, with Additions.

London: Printed for Rich. Wellington, at
the Dolphin and Crown, at the Weſt-
End of St. Paul’s Church-Yard. 17051705.

excerpt136 pages 137 K5r 137


By the late Celebrated Mrs. Katherine Phillips.

The Fam’d Orinda, to the Honourable Berenice.

Your Ladiſhip’s laſt Favour from Col. P—’s was truly obliging, and carried ſo much of the ſame great Soul of Yours, which loves to diffuſe it ſelf in Expreſſions of Friendſhip to me, that it merits a great deal more Acknowledgment than I am able to pay at my beſt Condition, and am leſs now when my Head-akes, and will give me no leave to enlarge, tho’ I have ſo much Subject and Reaſon; but really if my Heart ak’d too, I could be ſenſible of a very great Kindneſs and Condeſcention in 138 K5v 138 in thinking me worthy of Your Concern, tho’ I viſibly perceive moſt of my Letters have loſt their way to Your Ladiſhip. I beſeech You, be pleas’d firſt to believe I have written every Poſt; but, ſecondly, ſince I came, and then to enquire for them, that they may be commended into Your Hands, where alone they can hope for a favourable reſidence: I am very much a Sharer by Sympathy, in Your Ladiſhip’s Satisfaction in the Converſe You had in the Country, and find that to that ingenious Company Fortune had been juſt, there being no Perſon fitter to receive all the Admiration of Perſons beſt capable to pay them, than the great Berenice: I hope your Ladiſhip will ſpeak me a real Servant of Dr. Wilkins; and all that converſe with You, have enrich’d all this Summer with Yours. I humbly thank Your Ladiſhip for Your Promiſe of Mr. Boyle’s Book, which indeed merits a publick, not View only, but Univerſal Applauſe, if my Vote be conſiderable in things ſo much above me. If it be poſſible, oblige me with the Sight of one of them, which (if Your Ladiſhip command it) ſhall be very faithfully return’d You. And now (Madam) why was that 139 K6r 139 that a cruel Queſtion, When will You come to Wales? ’Tis cruel to me, I confeſs that it is yet in queſtion; but I humbly beg Your Ladiſhip to unriddle that part of your Letter, for I cannot underſtand why You, Madam, who have no Perſons alive, to whom Your Birth hath ſubmitted You, and have already by Your Life ſecur’d to Your ſelf the beſt Opinion the World can give You, ſhould create an Awe upon Your own Actions, from imaginary Inconveniencies: Happineſs, I confeſs, is twofac’d, and one is Opinion; but that Opinion is certainly our own; for it were equally ridiculous and impoſſible to ſhape our Actions by others Opinions. I have had ſo much (and ſome ſad) Reaſon to diſcuſs this Principle, that I can ſpeak with ſome Confidence, That none will ever be happy, who make their Happineſs to conſiſt in, or be govern’d by the Votes of other Perſons. I deny not but the Approbation of wiſe and good Perſons is a very neceſsary Satisfaction; but to forbear innocent Contentments, only becauſe it’s poſsible ſome Fancies may be ſo capricious as to diſpute, whether I ſhould have taken them, is, in my Belief, neither better nor worſe, than to faſt always,ways, 140 K6v 140 ways, becauſe there are ſome ſo ſuperſtitious in the World, that will abſtain from Meat, upon ſome Score or other, upon every Day in the Year, that is, ſome upon ſome Days, and others upon others, and ſome upon all. You know, Madam, there is nothing ſo various as Vulgar Opinion, nothing ſo untrue to it ſelf: Who ſhall then pleaſe, ſince none can fix it? ’Tis a Hereſy (this of ſubmitting to every blaſt of popular Extravagancy) which I have combated in Perſons very dear to me: Dear Madam, let them not have Your Authority for a Relapſe, when I had almoſt committed them; but conſider it without a Byaſs, and give Sentence as You ſee cauſe, and in that Interim put me not off, Dear Madam, with thoſe Chymera’s, but tell me plainly what Inconvenience is it to come? If it be one in earneſt I will ſubmit, but otherwiſe I am ſo much my own Friend, and my Friend’s Friend, as not to be ſatisfied with Your Ladiſhip’s taking meaſure of Your Actions by others Opinion, when I know too that the ſevereſt could find nothing in this Journey that they could condemn, but your exceſs of Charity to me, and that Cenſure You have already ſupported with Parience,tience, 141 K7r 141 rience, and (notwithſtanding my own conciouſneſs of no ways deſerving your ſufferance upon that ſcore) I cannot beg You to recover the Reputation of your Judgment in that particular, ſince it muſt be my Ruine. I ſhould now ſay very much for your moſt obliging Commands to me to write, and ſhould beg frequent Letters from your Ladiſhip with all poſſible importunity, and ſhould by command from my Lucaſia excuſe her laſt Rudeneſs (as ſhe calls it) in giving You account of her Honour for You under her own Hand, but I muſt beg Your Pardon now, and out-believing all, I can ſay upon every one of theſe accounts, for really, Madam, You cannot tell how to imagine any Perſon more to any one than I am,

Madam, Your Ladiſhips moſt faithful Servant, and paſſionate Friend,


Lucaſia 142 K7v 142

Lucaſia is moſt faithfully Your Servant: I am very glad of Mr. Cowley’s ſucceſs, and will concern my ſelf ſo much as to thank your Ladiſhip for your endeavour in it.

To 143 K8r 143

To the Honourable Berenice.

Dear Madam,

Ihave been ſo long ſilent, that I profeſs I am now aſham’d almoſt to beg your Pardon, and were not Confidence in your Ladiſhip’s Goodneſs a greater Reſpect than the beſt Addreſs in the World, I ſhould ſcarce believe my ſelf capable of remiſſion; but when your Ladiſhip ſhall know more fully than Papers can expreſs, how much and how many ways I have ſuffered, you will rather wonder that I write at all, than that I have not written in a Week; when You ſhall hear that my Dear Lucaſia, by a ſtrange unfortunate Sickneſs of her Mother’s, has been kept from me, for three Weeks longer than I expected, and is not yet come: I have had ſome difficulty to live, and truly, Madam, ſo I have, and more difficulty to be ſilent to You, but that in earneſt my diſorder was too great to write: Dear Madam, pardon and pity me, and, to expreſspreſs 144 K8v 144 preſs that You do both, be pleas’d to haſten hither, where I ſhall pour all my Trouble into your Boſom, and receive thence all that conſolation which I never in my Life more needed than I now do. You ſee, Madam, my preſumption, or rather Diſtraction to leap from Confeſſions into Petitions, and thoſe for advantages ſo much above my merit: But what is that, that the dear great Berenice can deny her faithful Orinda? And what is it that Orinda would not do or ſuffer, to obtain that ſweet and deſired Converſe, ſhe now begs of You? I am confident my Lucaſia will ſuddenly be here, to thank You for Your Charity, which You will, by coming, expreſs to me, and the Obligation You will put upon her by it; both which ſhall be equally and conſtantly acknowledg’d (if You will pleaſe to haſten it) by

Your faithfully affectionate Friend, and humble Servant,


To 145 L1r 145

To the Honourable Berenice.

Imuſt confeſs my ſelf extreamly troubled, to miſs a Letter from your Ladiſhip in a whole fortnight, but I muſt beg You to believe your Silence did not occaſion mine; for my Ambition to converſe with You, and advantage in being allow’d it, is too great for me to decline any opportunity which I can improve to obtain ſo much happineſs: But really the Box of Gloves and Ribbons miſs’d a conveniency of going, and a Letter that attended them partak’d in the ſame misfortune; and by this time, and ſome days before it, I hope they have reach’d You, for they were ſent away above a Week ago; and if ſo, all that I can tell You of my Deſire to ſee Your Ladiſhip will be repetition, for I had with as much earneſtneſs as I was capable of, begg’d it then, and yet have ſo much of the Beggar in me, that I muſt redouble that importunity now, and tell you, That I gaſp for You with an impatience that L is 146 L1v 146 is not to be imagin’d by any Soul wound up to a leſs concern in Friendſhip than Yours is, and therefore I cannot hope to make others ſenſible of my vaſt deſires to enjoy You, but I can ſafely appeal to Your own illuſtrious Heart, where I am ſure of a Court of Equity to relieve me in all the complaints and ſupplications my Friendſhip can put up: Madam, I am aſſured You love me, and that being once granted, ’tis out of diſpute, that your Love muſt have nobler circumſtances than mine, but becauſe the greatneſs and reality of it muſt be always diſputed with You, by me there muſt of neceſſity remain the obligingneſs of your Love to weigh down the Ballance, and give You that advantage over me in Friendſhip, which You unqueſtionably have in all things elſe, and if this reaſoning be true, (as ſure there are all Sciences in Friendſhip, and then Logick cannot be excluded) I have argued my ſelf into a handſom neceſſity of being eternally on the receiving hand, but let me qualifie that ſeeming meanneſs, by aſſuring You, that even that is the greateſt teſtimony of my eſteem for Your Ladiſhip, that ever I can give; for I have a natural Pride (that I cannot much 147 L2r 147 much repent of) which makes me very unwilling to be oblig’d, and more curious from whom I receive kindneſſes than where I confer them; ſo that being contented to be perpetually in Your debt, is the greateſt Confeſſion I can make of the Empire You have over me, and really that Priviledge is the laſt which I can ſubmit to part withal, to be juſt done in Acts of Friendſhip, and that I do not only yield You in all my Life paſt, but can beg to have it continued by Your doing me the greateſt favour that ever I receiv’d from You, by reſtoring me my dear and honoured Berenice: This, Madam, is but one Action, but like the Summ of an Account, it contains the Value of all the reſt, and will ſo oblige and refreſh me, that I cannot expreſs the ſatisfaction I ſhall receive in it; I humbly thank Your Ladiſhip for the aſſurance you have given me, that You ſuddenly intend it, and that You were pleas’d to be accountable to me for Your ſtay till 1658-12-25Chriſtmas, which being now at hand, I hope You will have neither Reaſon, Importunity, nor Inclinations to retard the Happineſs you intend me: Really, Madam, I ſhall and muſt expect it in theſe Holidays, and L2 a 148 L2v 148 a diſappointment to me is the greateſt of Miſeries; and then, Madam, I truſt you will be convinc’d of this neceſſity there is of your Life and Health, ſince Heaven it ſelf appears ſo much concern’d in it, as to reſtore it by a Miracle: And, truly had you been ſtill in danger, I ſhould have look’d upon that as more ominous than the Blazing-Star, ſo much diſcours’d of; but you are one of thoſe extraordinary Bleſſings which are the Publick Concernments, and are, I truſt, reſerv’d to be yet many Years an Example of Honour and Ornament to Religion.

Oh, Madam, I have abundance to tell you and ask you, and if you will not haſten to hear it, you will be almoſt as cruel as Arſaces; but you will come, and, if you find any thing in this Letter that ſeems to queſtion it, impute it to the continual diſtruſt of my own merit, which will not permit me eaſily to believe my ſelf favoured: Dear Madam, if you think me too timerous, confute me by the welcome Experiment of your Company, which, really, I perpetually long for, and again beg, as you love me, and claim as you would have me be- 149 L3r 149 believe it; I am glad your Ladiſhip has pitch’d on a place ſo near me, you ſhall be ſufficiently perſecuted with Orinda. I know you will pardon me, for not acquainting you with the News you heard from other hands, when I tell you, there is nothing of it true, and the Town is now full of very different Diſcourſe; but I ſhall tell you more particularly, when I have the honour to ſee you; and, till then, cannot with conveniency do it. I eaſily believe Deus factious; but in thoſe Diſputes, I think he diſcovers more Wit than Wiſdom, and your Ladiſhip knows they are inſeparable; I ſhall loſe the Poſt, if I do not now haſten to ſubſcribe, what I am always ready to make good, that I am more than any one living,

Your Ladiſhips moſt faithful, and moſt paſſionate Friend and Servant,


L3 To 150 L3v 150

To the Honourable Berenice.

With the greateſt Joy and Confuſion in the World, I receiv’d, Dear Madam, your Ladiſhips moſt obliging Letter from Kew, and thus far I am reconciled to my own Omiſſions, that they have produc’d a Shame, which ſerves me now to allay a Tranſport, which had otherwiſe been exceſſive at the knowledge that I am to receive, that notwithſtanding all my Failings, you can look upon me with ſo generous a Concern: I could make many Apologies for my ſelf, and with truth tell you, That I have ventur’d Papers to kiſs your Ladiſhip’s Hand, ſince I received one from it; but really, Madam, I had rather owe my Reſtitution wholly to your Bounty, than ſeem to have any pretence to it my ſelf, and I will therefore allow my ſelf utterly unworthy of having any room in your Thoughts, in that I have not perpetually begg’d it of you, with that Aſſiduity as is ſuitable to ſo great and ſo valued a Bleſing;ing; 151 L4r 151 ing; and I know that tho’ a Sea has divided our Perſons, and many other Accidents made your Ladiſhips Reſidence uncertain to me, yet I ought to have been reſtleſs in my Enquiries how to make my Approaches to you; and all the Varieties, and Wandrings, and Troubles that I have undergone ſince I had the honour to ſee your Ladiſhip, ought not to have diſtracted me one moment from the payment of that Devotion to you, which, if you pleaſe I will ſwear never to have been one jot leſſen’d in my Heart, as ill and as ſeldom as I have expreſs’d it; but now, that my good Fortune has brought me once more ſo near your Ladiſhip, I hope to redeem my Time, by ſo conſtant and fervent Addreſſes to you, as ſhall both witneſs how unalterably I have ever lov’d and honour’d you, and how extreamly glad I am ſtill to be preſerv’d in ſo noble and ſo priz’d a Heart as yours; and, that I may the ſooner be ſecur’d of that, and reſtor’d to your Converſe, I muſt beg your Ladiſhip to find ſome occaſion that may bring you to London, where I may caſt my ſelf at your Feet, both in repentance of my own Faults, and acknowledgment of your Goodneſs, and aſſure you that neither LucaſiaL4 caſia, 152 L4v 152 caſia, nor any other Perſon, ever had the Will, the Power, or the Confidence to hinder the Juſtice of my moſt affectionate Service to your Ladiſhip, and tho’ you fright me with telling me how much you have conſidered me of late, yet I will venture upon all the Severity that Reflection can produce; and if it be as great as I may reaſonably fear, yet I will ſubmit to it for the Expiation of my Failings, and think my ſelf ſufficiently happy if after any Penance, you will once more receive me into your Friendſhip, and allow me to be that ſame Orinda, whom with ſo much goodneſs you were once pleaſed to own as moſt faithfully yours, and who have ever been, and ever will be ſo: And, Dear, Dear Madam,

Your Ladiſhip’s moſt affectionate humble Servant and Friend,

K. Phillips.

This was wrote but a Month before Orinda died.

To 153 L5r 153

To Mr. Herbert.

Ireceived your two Letters againſt Hyprocriſie and Love, but I muſt tell you, they have made me no Convert from Women, and their Favourite; for who, like Simonides, wou’d give nine ſcandalous Origins to Womankind, for one good one, meerly becauſe the Follies and Vices of that Sex deſerve it, and yet hope ever to make your Account of them? Or who, with Petronius Arbiter would tell the Lawyers,

Quid faciunt Leges ubi ſola pecunia regnat?

Aut ubi paupertas vincere nulla poteſt,

Ipſi qui Cynica traducunt tempora cena,

Nonnunquam nummis vendere verba ſolent,

Ergo judicium, nihil eſt niſi publica Merces

Atq; eques in cauſe qui ſedet empta probat.

Thus Engliſh’d by Mr. Barnaby.

Laws bear the Name, but Money has the Power;

The cauſe is bad when e’er the Cllent’s Poor;

Thoſe 154 L5v 154

Thoſe ſtrict-liv’d Men that ſeem above our World,

Are oft too modeſt to reſiſt our Gold;

So Judgment, like our other Wares, is ſold;

And the Grave Knight that nods upon the Laws,

Wak’d by a Fee, Hems, and approves the Cauſe.

That the Bar is but a Market for the Sale of Right, and that the Judge ſits there only to confirm what the Bribe had ſecur’d before, and yet hope ever to eſcape when you come into their Hands? Or what Man that has his Intereſt before his Eyes, would tell this dangerous Truth, That Prieſts of all Religions are the ſame?

No, no, Plain-dealing muſt be left to Manly, and confin’d to the Theatre, and permit Hypocriſie and Nonſence to prevail with thoſe pretty Amuſements, Women, that like their own Pleaſure too well, to be fond of Sincerity. You declaim againſt Love on the uſual Topicks, and have ſcarce any thing new to be anſwer’d by me, their profeſs’d Advocate, if by Repentance you mean the Pain that accompanies Love; all other Pleaſures are mixt with 155 155 with that, as well as Love, as Cicero obſerves in his ſecond Book de Oratore, Omnibus rebus, voluptatibus maximis faſtidium finitimum eſt: In all things where the greateſt Pleaſures are found, there borders a ſatiety and uneaſie pain. And Catullus, Non eſt dea neſcia noſtri, quæ dulcem euris miſcet amaritiem: Nor am I unknown to that bright Goddeſs, who with my Cares mingles a ſweet pleaſing Bitter. But I take this Pain in Love to proceed from the imperfection of our Union with the Object belov’d, for the Mind forms a thouſand entrancing Idea’s, but the Body is not capable of coming up to that ſatisfaction the Mind propoſes; but this Pain is in all other Pleaſures that we have, none of which afford that fulneſs of Pleaſure, as Love, which bears ſome proportion to the vehemence of our Deſires: Speak therefore no more againſt Love, as you hope to die in the Arms of Sylvia, or not periſh wretchedly in the Death of a Pumpkin. I am

Your Friend, &c;
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