In the following collection will be found such familiar epistles of Sir Philip Sidney, as seem either calculated to interest the general reader, or to throw any light upon our author's character. The sixteen letters which are placed together, last in order, are now published for the first time from MSS. in the British Museum. These we have thought it better to reprint verbatim from the originals, only here and there presuming to supply, within brackets, the lacunæ which fire and damp have occasioned; since we are aware that many antiquaries have a strong prejudice against modernized versions, and those who entertain such an opinion cannot have access in regard to this part of our work, as was the case with the previous contents of the present volume, to other published copies more suited to their tastes. Walpole has sneeringly observed that the letters of Sidney are but "poor matters." They are certainly the hurried and careless productions of a man deeply immersed in business, who takes up his pen solely because duty and necessity compel him to write; and not the laborious effusions of a secluded literary coxcomb, which, after having been dribbled out by syllables, and diligently pruned and adjusted into smooth and striking sentences, are addressed indirectly to the world through the medium of some gossiping friend. LETTERS. Sir Philip Sidney to Edward Molineux, Esq., Secretary to his father as Lord Deputy.* [Reprinted from the Sidney Papers, vol. i. p. 256.] MR. MOLINEUX, Few words are best. My letters to my father have come to the eyes of some. Neither can I condemn any but you for it. If it be so, you have played * This letter was not written to the steward, as Walpole falsely states, but to the secretary of Sir H. Sidney, Edward Molineux, Esq., of Nutfield in the county of Surrey. Sir Philip imagined, erroneously, as he afterwards confessed, that this gentleman had basely betrayed the confidence of his employer, and furnished the enemies of the aged Lord Deputy with matter of accusation against him. Though the above epistle, therefore, is sadly deficient in point of discretion and temper, it shows the intensity of our author's filial regard; and, whatever may be deducted from our estimation of the coolness of his head on account of it, an equivalent must, we apprehend, be substituted in our increased love and respect for the amiable qualities of his heart. the very knave with me; and so I will make you know, if I have good proof of it. But that for so much as is past. For that is to come, I assure you before God, that if ever I know you do so much as read any letter I write to my father, without his commandment, or my consent, I will thrust my dagger into you. And trust to it, for I speak it in earnest. In the mean time farewell. From court, this last of May, 1578. By me, PHILIP SIDNEY. Indorsed, Mr. Philip Sidney to me, brought 1578, by my Lord Chancellor; received the 21st of June. Sir Philip Sidney to his brother Robert, the first Earl of Leicester of their name. MY GOOD BROTHER, You have thought unkindness in me that I have not written oftener unto you, and have desired I should write unto you something of my opinion touching your * This letter was probably composed about 1578; and originally appeared in a little volume, entitled, "Instructions for Travellers, by Robert Earl of Essex, Sir Philip Sidney, and Secretary Davison, 1633." It has been since reprinted in Seward's Biographiana, vol. ii. p. 370. A MS. copy of it is extant in Trinity College Library, Dublin; and another in the Library of University College, Oxon. For a transcript from the latter, we have been indebted to the courtesy of the Rev. Fred. Charles Plumptre, fellow and tutor of University. travel; you being persuaded my experience thereunto be something, which I must needs confess, but not as you take it; for you think my experience grows from the good things which I have learned; but I know the only experience which I have gotten, is to find how much I might have learned, and how much indeed I have missed, for want of directing my course to the right end, and by the right means. I think you have read Aristotle's Ethics; if you have, you know it is the beginning and foundation of all his works, the end to which every man doth and ought to bend his greatest and smallest actions. I am sure you have imprinted in your mind the scope and mark you mean by your pains to shoot at for if you should travel but to travel, or to say you had travelled, certainly you should prove a pilgrim to no purpose. But I presume so well of you, that though a great number of us never thought in ourselves why we went, but a certain tickling humour to do as other men had done, you purpose, being a gentleman born, to furnish yourself with the knowledge of such things as may be serviceable for your country and calling; which certainly stands not in the change of air, for the warmest sun makes not a wise man; no, nor in learning languages, although they be of serviceable use, for words are but words in what language soever they be, and much less in that all of us come home full of disguisements, not only of apparel, but of our countenances, as though the credit of a traveller stood all upon his outside; but in the right informing your mind with those things which are most notable in those places which you come unto. Of which as the one kind is so vain, as I think ere it be long, like the mountebanks in Italy, we travellers |