LETTER I. To the Dear Mrs. A. N. living in Old-street.

THat ravenous Bullet, my dear Nancie, which robb'd me of my Left Hand, was yet mer­ciful in its choice, that it spar'd me my Right one to write you of the Misfortune; yet it's well it mist my Heart, since your fair Idea is so deeply imprinted therein, that it would have been not only guilty of depriving me of Breath, but of that much more cruel and Sacrilegious Fact of destroying you in Effigie. In the heat of Battel, the Martial noise of Drum and Trumpets Chorus'd with the dreadful shreiks of dying Men, could not drive you out of my Memory; but on the con­trary, the hopes of that undisturbed happiness I shall injoy when I shall graspe you in my Arms, fir'd me to do Actions worthy so incomparable a felicity. Should I hear that you were too lavish of your Tears at the news of my Wound, the tidings of your grief would trouble me more than either [Page 3]my pain or misfortune: but to prevent that wa­trie tribute which I am confident your affectionate Heart will be too prone to exact from your fair eyes, I do assure you the Surgeon does not doubt of my Recovery.

I am at present in good temper of Body, and do enjoy in common with the rest of the Wounded Men here about me, all things fit for persons in our condition; so that I doubt not but to live to tell you what dangers I have been in, and what more I would willingly imbrace to be esteemed, as in­deed I am,

LETTER II.

I Doubt not, dearest Betty, but you have heard of the late Ingagement; but could you imagine what danger I was in, you would either have concluded you should never hear from me again, or if you did, that I must have dated my Letter from the Grave. I know not what our Ghosts do, or where they inhabit after Death; but sure I am, if they retain any tincture of our Souls whilst we live, mine would sometime or other have been so kind, as to whisper you in the ear, that I dyed yours. Your fair form, ever since I had the first blessing to behold it, fill'd my Amorous Breast so full of Love, that there has never since been any [Page 4]room or vacuity left for the re-acception of any other passion. This I but lately experienced for a truth: for although it was my fortune to be placed in the midst of this obstinate Rencounter, where I might easily behold all the dismal effects of a Bloody Battel, wherein all the circumstances of Horror and Amazement were drawn to the Life, and I my self one of the busie Agents to make it more terri­ble; yet neither the consideration of my own dan­ger, nor a compassion of my fellow-creatures misery, could work in my replenisht Breast the least pro­pensity either to fear or pitty; so full was I of you, that methought every Man I saw was your Enemy, and I only stood in your Vindication: this imagi­nation whetted my Sword, and poysoned my Bul­lets against the Enemy, so that in effect, I fought for you as the dearest pledge in the World, I in­vokt you as my Saint, I prayed to you, and in fine, was either delivered by you, or for you; in hopes of the latter,

LETTER III. To Mrs. H. L. in White-chappel.

THe Affection, dear Hannah, you ever doubted, is now come to the test, and by good for­tune I have lighted on your Brother to do me this favour of writing you my Condition. He as­sures [Page 5]me also to acquaint you that Heaven and you are the two last things I shall think of in this world; and indeed I do not know but this very thought wherewith I instruct him what I would have you know, will be my last, it being my good fortune (for since your cruel denial you know I never coveted to live) in the beginning of this Engagement to be shot off by a Cannon-bullet al­most in the middle: my Intrals are not onely dis­cernable, but some of them broken, so that I am in continual expectation that friendly Death will now quickly rid you of that wretched Creature whom you never thought worthy your Esteem. Ah, my dear Mistriss, could Passion compound for an Estate, or might an entire Affection have been thought sterling. I had certainly been the richest man in the world. I was indeed a Miser in Love; my Heart was the Coffer, and with a greedy ambi­tion, if it were possible, I too much Idoliz'd the Treasure I hid therein. Envy me not my presumpti­on in adoring you, since my inpropitious Stars have on your side espoused the Affront, and sufficiently revenged my sacrilegious Attempt; yet since my Crime was onely Love, and that so pure, that An­gels might own it without giving the least blot to their more-refined Conversations: since, I say, my Crime was onely LOVE, let your Hatred die with me. Pursue not your Cruelty to the Grave, nor let your potent Frowns disturb my melancholy Pe­rambulations in the other world; where if, when [Page 6]your happy days shall be expir'd, it shall be my fortune to meet you, I will tell you so sad a story of my former Affection, that Hero shall weep, and Leander be asham'd, that they could not love like

LETTER IV. For Mrs. J. F. in Golden-lane.

WHen I had escaped the danger I was in by our engaging the French before Mons, I could not, my dear Jenny, (with whom I have ever wasted my most happy minutes, and in whose retentive Bosom I have often lodged, with good success, my most important secrets) but hold my self obliged both by the Laws of Love and Friend­ship to give you information of my safety. 'Tis true, at first when I saw both sides draw up in­to Battalia, I quarrel'd with my self that I could not shake off some little fear, which in spite of all my resolution crept into my thoughts at the apprehension of those dismal effects which must needs be the result of so desperate a Detach­ment: 'Twas then I turned my Face homewards, and with a deep Sigh and heavy Heart, gave thee a lowd Farewel; which I had hardly done be­fore the Martial sound of War called us to Battle; [Page 7]ar which, as if I had been in a Trance before, a native rage fled through my English-blood, and quite disperst those timorous thoughts which plagued my breast before. I shall forbear the par­ticulars of that great Action, because I question not but you have heard them ere this: I shall onely therefore acquaint you that our English, ac­cording to their old custome, behaved themselves to admiration. That R. B. and T. M. had the ho­nour to die in the field of Honour.

LETTER V. To E. W. in St. Giles's in the Fields.

THou know'st, honest Comrade, I ever had a strange curiosity to be some petty Actor in a remarkable Fight: Methought the discreet ordering of an Army, the expert drawing up of several men, and they of divers Nations and Lan­guages, into Battalia, and making them capable of obedience under the same words of Command; the glittering of Swords, the clangor of Trumpets, the noise of Drums, the shouts of the Victorious, the shreiks of the Oppressed, the neighing of Horses, the roaring of Cannon, the clattering of Musquets, the flourishing of Colours, and a thousand other remarkables which must needs happen in those fa­tal [Page 8]Conjunctures, were objects too glorious for a common eye. And therefore I had a great desire to be an Agent in the Debate betwixt us & the French on the 14 instant, where I beheld all, and more than I could imagine before: and trust me, honest Ned, it did me good to see it so bravely disputed on both sides; but especially to behold my Country­men under the Command of our never-enough-to-be-celebrated General, doing wonders, and like Bulworks under showers of Bullets, which rained on them from all sides. To see whole heaps of the slaughtered on both sides lying hudled together, whilst their blushing Blood, as if ashamed of their lifeless Trunks, in the heat of action collected in­to Rivulets, and silently glided through the busie Army. I could write thee Miracles, but want lei­sure at present: Know then, that D. T. was woun­ded, and R. H. killed in the Battle; and that I continue, as I ever was,