"But I have heard tidings lately, and from the Lady Claypole too, of which, methinks, to your mother's friend, you have been over chary. Ah! maidens care not to prate of their love affairs to matrons. Silly things! they would go their own course, and think for themselves! without knowing how to go, or what to think! The besetting sin of youth is--presumption: but it is not your sin, my gentle girl; it was some species of modesty withheld your pen--yet I heard it. My husband, albeit not a very frequent guest at Whitehall, pays his respects there sometimes, mainly out of his duty and regard to the Lady Claypole; for he is no scorner of our sex, and holds it a privilege to converse with wise and holy women. She informed him, and not as a matter of secrecy, that you would soon be wedded to Sir Willmott Burrell; and, although we know him not, we readily believe that he is a good and honest gentleman, commanding our esteem, because beloved of you--the which, I pray you, advise him of--and say we hope he will number us among his friends. I never doubted your wisdom, Constantia, and those cannot wed well who do not wed wisely. By wisely, I do not mean that longing after foolish gain and worldly aggrandisement, which vain women, alas! covet more than the enjoyment of their lives and the salvation of their souls. I would have a woman seek for her husband one whom she can love with an ardent, but not idolatrous passion; capable of being a firm, consistent friend; who has sufficient knowledge and virtue to sit in council within her bosom, and direct her in all things. Having found such, the wife should desire and strive to be as a very faithful mirror, reflecting truly, however dimly, his own virtues. I have been long wedded, and, thank God, most happily so. We have become as a proverb among our friends; and matrons, when they bless their daughters at the altar, wish them to be as happy as Lucy Hutchinson. Had your blessed mother lived, my advice might have been almost impertinent; but now, I am sure you will not take it ill of a most true friend to speak a little counsel: my words may be but as dew-drops, yet there is a spirit within you that can convert them into pearls. But counsel ought to be preceded by prayer--and I have prayed--Will you take ill the supplication? I know you will not. "I am also sure that you will not consider unacceptable the prayer I am about to transcribe in this my letter. It was written by my dear husband, some time after the exceeding goodness of God made us one; and we feel much comfort and encouragement in repeating it each morn and eve, ere the cares and turmoils of the day are come, or when they have departed. May it have a like influence on you, my sweet friend! May your destiny be as mine!