By the lovers of virtue and of wit it will be solicitously asked, if
he now was happy. Let them peruse one of his letters accidentally
preserved by Peck, which I recommend to the consideration of all
that may hereafter pant for solitude.


"TO DR. THOMAS SPRAT,
"Chertsey, May 21, 1665.

"The first night that I came hither I caught so great a cold, with a
defluxion of rheum, as made me keep my chamber ten days. And, two
after, had such a bruise on my ribs with a fall, that I am yet
unable to move or turn myself in my bed. This is my personal
fortune here to begin with. And, besides, I can get no money from
my tenants, and have my meadows eaten up every night by cattle put
in by my neighbours. What this signifies, or may come to in time,
God knows; if it be ominous, it can end in nothing less than
hanging. Another misfortune has been, and stranger than all the
rest, that you have broke your word with me and failed to come, even
though you told Mr. Bois that you would. This is what they call
monstri simile. I do hope to recover my late hurt so far within
five or six days (though it be uncertain yet whether I shall ever
recover it) as to walk about again. And then, methinks, you and I
and the dean might be very merry upon St. Ann's Hill. You might
very conveniently come hither the way of Hampton Town, lying there
one night. I write this in pain, and can say no more: verbum
sapienti."


He did not long enjoy the pleasure or suffer the uneasiness of