"DEAR WILL,--Affairs begin to alter, and men talk of a peace with Holland, and taking them into our protection; and it is my opinion it will be before Michaelmas, for some reasons, not fit to write. We cannot have a peace with France and Holland both. The Dutch are now brought very low; but Amsterdam, and some other provinces, are resolved to stand out till the last. De-wit is stabbed, and dead of his wounds. It was at twelve a clock at night, the 11th of this month, as he came from the council at the Hague. Four men wounded him with their swords. But his own letter next morning to the States says nothing appeared mortal. The whole Province of Utrecht is yielding up. No man can conceive the condition of the State of Holland, in this juncture, unless he can at the same time conceive an earthquake, an hurricane, and the deluge. France is potent and subtle. Here have been several fires of late. One at St. Catherine's, which burned about six score or two hundred houses, and some seven or eight ships. Another in Bishopsgate-street. Another in Crichet Fryars. Another in Southwark; and some elsewhere. You may be sure all the old talk is hereupon revived. There was the other day, though not on this occasion, a severe proclamation issued out against all who shall vent false news, or discourse ill concerning affairs of state. So that in writing to you I run the risque of making a breech in the commandment.--Yours," etc.
The following letter deals with another matter of human concern than politics, for it seeks to condole with a father who has lost an only son.