This week we had news of my Lord Tiviot having cut his own throat, through what discontent not yet said. He had been, not many years past, my colleague in the commission of the Privy Seal, in old acquaintance, very soberly and religiously inclined. Lord, what are we without thy continual grace!
Lord Falkland, grandson to the learned Lord Falkland, Secretary of State to King Charles I., and slain in his service, died now of the smallpox. He was a pretty, brisk, understanding, industrious young gentleman; had formerly been faulty, but now much reclaimed; had also the good luck to marry a very great fortune, besides being entitled to a vast sum, his share of the Spanish wreck, taken up at the expense of divers adventurers. From a Scotch Viscount he was made an English Baron, designed Ambassador for Holland; had been Treasurer of the Navy, and advancing extremely in the new Court. All now gone in a moment, and I think the title is extinct. I know not whether the estate devolves to my cousin Carew. It was at my Lord Falkland's, whose lady importuned us to let our daughter be with her some time, so that that dear child took the same infection, which cost her valuable life.