of that age; but you have kept one child, and are likely to do fo long; you have the affurance of another, and the hopes of many more. You have kept a hufband, great in employment, and in fortune, and (which is more) in the efteem of good men. You have kept your beauty and your health, unless you have deftroyed them yourself, or difcouraged them to ftay with you by using them ill. You have friends that are as kind to you as you can with, or as you can give them leave to be by their fears of lofing you, and being thereby fo much the unhappier, the kinder they are to you. But you have honour and esteem from all that know you; or if ever it fails you in any degree, it is only upon that point of your feeming to be fallen out with God and the whole world, and neither to care for yourself, or any thing else, after what you have loft.

:

You will fay perhaps that one thing was all to you, and your fondness of it made you indifferent to every thing elfe. But this, I doubt, will be fo far from juftifying you, that it will prove to be your fault as well as your misfortune. God Almighty gave you all the bleffings of life, and you fet your heart wholly upon one, and defpife or undervalue all the rest is this his fault or yours? nay, is it not to be very unthankful to heaven, as well as very fcornful to the rest of the world? Is it not to fay, because you have loft one thing God hath given, you thank him for nothing he has left, and care not what he takes away? Is it not to fay, fince that one thing is gone out of the world, there is nothing left in it which you think can deferve your kindness or efteem?"A friend makes me a feaft, and fets all before me that his care or kindnefs could provide; but I fet my heart upon one dish alone, and, if that happen to be thrown down, I fcorn all the reft; and though he fends for another of the fame, yet I rife from the table in a rage, and fay my friend is my enemy, and has done me the greatest wrong in the world: have I reafon, madam, or good grace in what I do? or would it become me better to eat of the reft that is before me, and think no more of what had happened, and could not be remedied?

But, madam, though religion were no party in your cafe, and that, for fo violent and injurious a grief, you had no

thing to anfwer to God, but only to the world and yourself; yet I very much doubt how you would be acquitted. We bring into the world with us a poor, needy, uncertain life, thor: at the longeft, and unquiet at the beft; all the imaginations of the witty and the wife have been perpetually bufied to find out the ways how to revive it with pleasures, or relieve it with diverfions; how to compofe it with eafe, and fettle it with fafety. To fome of thefe ends have been employed the inftitutions of lawgivers, the reasonings of philofophers, the inventions of poets, the pains of labouring, and the extravagances of voluptuous men. All the world is perpetually at work about nothing else, but only that our poor mortal lives fhould pafs the eafier and happier for that little time we poffefs them, or elfe end the better when we lose them.

Paffions are perhaps the ftings, without which they fay no honey is made; yet I think all forts of men have ever agreed, they ought to be our fervants, and not our mafters; to give us fome agitation for entertainment and exercife, but never to throw our reafon out of its feat. Perhaps I would not always fit ftill, or would be fometimes on horfeback; but I would never ride a horfe that galls my flesh, or shakes my bones, or that runs away with me as he pleafes, fo as I can neither stop at a river or precipice. Better no paffions at all, than have them too violent; or fuch alone as, instead of heightening our pleasures, afford us nothing but vexation and pain.

In all fuch loffes as your ladyship's has been, there is fomething that common nature cannot be denied, there is a great deal that good nature may be allowed; but all exceffive and outrageous grief or lamentation for the dead was accounted, among the antient Chriftians, to have fomething of heathenifh; and among the civil nations of old, to have fomething of barbarous; and therefore it has been the care of the first to moderate it by their precepts, and the latter to retrain it by their laws. The longest time that has been allowed to the forms of mourning, by the cuftom of any country, and in any relation, has been but that of a year; in which space the body is commonly fuppofed to be mouldered away to earth, and to retain no more figure of what it was; but this has been given only to the lofs of L12

pa

fo

parents, of husband, or wife. On the other fide, to children under age, nothing has been allowed; and I suppofe with particular reafon (the common ground of att general customs) perhaps because they die in innocence, and without having tafted the mileries of life, fo as we are fure they are well when they leave us, and efcape much ill which would in all appearance have befallen them if they had ftaid longer with us. Befides, a parent may have twenty children, and fo his mourning may run through all the beit of his life, if his loffes are frequent of that kind; and our kindness to children young is taken to proceed from common opinions, or fond imaginations, not friendhip or esteem; and to be grounded upon entertainment rather than ufe, in the many offices of life: nor would it pafs from any perfon befides your ladyfhip, to lay you loft a companion and a friend at nine years old, though you loft one in deed, who gave the fairest hopes that could be, of being both in time, and every thing elfe that was cftimable and good: but yet, that itfeif, God only knows, confidering the changes of humour and difpofition, which are as great as thofe of feature and shape the firft fixteen years of our lives, confidering the chances of time, the infection of company, the fnares of the world, and the paffions of youth; fo that the most excellent and agreeable creature of that tender age, and that feemed born under the happiett fars, might, by the courfe of years and accidents, come to be the mot miferable herself, and more trouble to her friends by living long, than fhe could have been by dying young.

Yet, after all, madam, could tears water the lovely plant, fo as to make it grow again after once it is cut down; would fighs furnish new breath, or could it draw life and spirits from the walling of yours; I am fure your friends would be fo far from accufing your paffion, that they would encourage it as much, and fhare it as deep, as they could. But, alas! the eternal laws of the creation extinguish all fuch hopes, forbid all fuch defigns; nature gives us many children and friends to take them away, but takes none away to give them us again. And this makes the excelles of grief to have been fo univerfally condemned as a thing unnatural, because fo much in vain: where as nature, as they fay, does nothing in

vain: as a thing fo unreasonable, because to contrary to our own designs; for we all defign to be well, and at eafe, and by grief we make ourselves ill of imaginary wounds, and raife ourselves troubles moit properly out of the duft, whilst our ravings and complaints are but like arrows thot up into the air, at no mark, and fo to no purpose, but only to fall back upon our heads, and deftroy ourselves, instead of recovering or revenging our friends.

Perhaps, madam, you will fay, this is your defign, or, if not, your defire; but I hope yet you are not fo far gone, or fo defperately bent: felf-murder has ever been agreed upon as the greatest crime, and is punished here with the utmoft fhame, which is all that can be inflicted upon the dead. But is the crime much lefs to kill ourselves by a flow poifon, than by a fudden wound? Now, if we do it, and know we do it, by a long and a continual grief, can we think ourfelves innocent? What great difference is there if we break our hearts, or confume them; if we pierce them, or bruife them; fince all determines in the fame death. The greatest crime is for a man to kill himself; is it a finall one to wound himself by anguifh of heart, by grief, or defpair, to ruin his health, to fhorten his age, to deprive himself of all the pleasures, or eafes, or enjoyments of life?

Whilft I had any hopes your tears would eafe you,, or that your grief would confume itfelf by liberty and time, your ladyfhip knows very well I never once ac cufed it, nor ever encreated it, like many others, by the common formal ways of afluaging it; and, this, I am fure, is the firt office of this kind I ever went about to perform, otherways than in the mott ordinary forms. I was in hope what was so violent could not be fo long; but, when I obferved it to grow stronger with age, and increafe like a stream the further it run; when I faw it draw out to fuc unhappy confequences, and threaten no le than your child, your health, and your Fie, I could no longer forbear this ender our, nor end it, without begging of your ladyfhip, for God's fake and for your own, for your children, and your friends, for your country's and your family's, that you would no longer abandon yourfelf to fo difconfolate a paffion; but that you would, at length, awaken your piety, give way to your prudence, cherish

thole

thofe veins of good humour that are fome-
times fo natural to you, and fear up those
of ill that would make you fo unnatural
to your children, and to yourfelf: but
above all, that you would enter upon the
cares of your health, and your life, for
your friends fake at leaft, if not for your
own. For my part, I know nothing
could be to me fo great an honour and fa-
tisfaction, as if your ladyfhip would own
me to have contributed towards this cure,
but, however, none can perhaps more
justly pretend to your pardon for the at-
tempt, fince there is none, I am fure,
that has always had at heart a greater
honour for your ladyship's family, nor
can have for your perfon more devotion
and esteem, than, Madam,

Your ladyship's most obedient,
and most humble fervant.

Whimsical Remarks on the Follies of the
English. By a Frenchman.

NGLAND, at present so jealous

lone, their captain had the infolence to answer, Very true, and therefore we intend fhortly to fend you to God for that purpose. During the reign of Charles II. their manners underwent great revolutions. A tafte for literature and gallantry fucceeded to fanaticism and impiety; but they ftill continued to preferve that bafis of ferocity which is productive of ftrong reafoning in one, and in another brutality. Perhaps we ourselves are deceived in this matter by our refined politenefs, which, according to the English, renders us unnatural. In general, fays M. de Muralt, they perform a good acton boldly, and they dare follow their reafon in oppofition to cuftom; but their good fenfe is mixed with whims and extravagance. Their refolutions are generally fudden. It is common in Eng land for a girl to vow that he will marry the first man fhe meets; and accordingly they are married. Wine hath fometimes, among this people, been pro

E of its fiberty of thinking and acting, ductive of great thisy. Pone of them

66

was once the flave of priests and tyrants. William the Conqueror carried his power fo far as to oblige the people to put out their fires, and go to bed by, eight o'clock. The English, for a long time, paid a tax of a crown a head to the pope. There was a time when the priests, who meddle with every thing, had rendered this people fo exceedingly fuperftitious as to make them believe not only that the health of their fouls, but of their bodies alfo, depended on a regular attendance on public worthip. We read in Jurieu, and others, that one of their kings, on viewing the carcafs of a ftag, which he had juft killed, cried out, By heavens, he is in good health, though he neither heard mais nor vefpers." The English are much changed fince that time; but the change coft them many a bloody war. The generality of them being naturally exceffive in every thing, they paffed in a fhort time from flavery to licentioufnefs; from extreme devotion to the most determined impiety. Every individual having divested himself of his troublesome prejudices, gave himfelf up to his own humour and opinions. Royalty was overturned in the perfon of the unfortunate Charles I. who fuffered death without caufe and without pity. This prince faying to thofe who conducted him to prifon, That he thought himdelf accountable for his actions to God a

have made a vow to murder the first perfon they meet after leaving the tavein; and they have kept their word. Their prime nobility often box or play at bowls with the loweft among the people.-Some of our nation, confider the English ftage, which affords that people fo much delight, as a proof of their barbarity. Their tra gedies, it is true, though interefting, and replete with beauties, are nevertheless dramatic monfters, half butchery and half farce. Grotefque character, and extravagant pleafantry constitute the chief part of their comedies: in one of these, the devil enters fneezing, and fomebody fays to the devil, God biefs you. They are not, however, all of this ftamp: they have even fome in a very good taste; but there are hardly any which give us an advantageous idea of the English nation; though it is from the theatre that a franger forms his opinion of the manners of a people. The English comic poets do not endeavour to paint their countrymen fuch as they are; for they are faid to poffets as much humanity as reafon. A man in difgrace at court is, in London, congratulated with as much folicitude as in other places he is abandoned. The thing for which the English are most culpable is their deeming fuicide an act of bravery. They ought to recollect that even the Athenians, their model, were not suf

fered

fered to deftroy themselves, till after they that I, or perhaps any other perfon, was had given their reasons for it. The En- ever bleffed with. She expired about fix glish, on the contrary, frequently kill in the evening of this day; and, as foon themselves on the flighteft occafion; even as I am left alone, which is about eleven fometimes merely to mortify another. A at night, I refolve, for my own fatisfac hufband diffatisfied with the behaviour of tion, to fay fomething of her life and chahis wife, who by his death would be a racter. confiderable lofer, threatened, if she did not mend her manners, to be revenged on her by hanging himself. The English are now-a-days ieldom cruel, except to themselves, or in their public fpectacles, rarely in their robberies. Their highwaymen generally content themselves with taking your money, and being witty upon the occafion. One of thefe people having ftopped an English nobleman upon the road, refted his piftol on the door of the coach, and faid, This piece, my lord, is worth a hundred guineas: I would advife your lordship to buy it. His lordship understood the meaning of thefe words, gave him the money, and took the pistol, which he immediately prefented at the highwayman; who told him, with a fmile, that he must have taken him to be a great fool, if he thought the piece was charged. I fhall finish this chapter with the recital of a very extraordinary affair, which could never have entered any head but that of an Englishwoman he was fo picqued at being told, that women had as great a propenfity to love as the men, that the inftantly made a vow of perpetual virginity, and accordingly died a virgin at the age of fourfcore; the left in her will, a number of legacies to virgins. She endeavoured to prove, that the proportion in the pleasures of love between the two fexes, was as forty to eightythree. This droll calculation reminds me, that as the Italians conftantly introduce buffoonery, the Germans wine, the Spaniards devotion, and the French gallantry, fo the English, upon all occafions, introduce calculation.

Memoirs of Mrs. Johnson, the celebrated
Stella of Dean Swift, drawn up by the
Dean himself.

On the Death of Mrs. Johnson.

HIS day, being Sunday, January 28th, 1727-8, about eight o'clock at night, a fervant brought me a note,

with an account of the death of the truet, most virtuous, and valuable friend,

She was born at Richmond in Surry, on the 13th day of March, 1681. Her father was a younger brother of a good family in Nottinghamshire, her mother of a lower degree; and indeed the had little to boast of her birth. I knew her from fix years old, and had some share in her education, by directing what books fhe fhould read, and perpetually inftructing her in the principles of honour and virtue; from which the never fwerved in any one action or moment of her life. She was fickly from her childhood until about the age of fifteen: but then grew into perfect health, and was looked upon as one of the most beautiful, graceful, and agreeable young women in London, only a little too fat. Her hair was blacker than a raven, and every feature in her face in perfection. She lived generally in the country, with a family, where the contracted an intimate friendship with another lady of more advanced years. I was then (to my mortification) fettled in' Ireland; and, about a year after, going to vifit my friends in England, I found fhe was a little uneafy upon the death of a perfon on whom he had fome dependence. Her fortune, at that time, was in all not above fifteen hundred pounds, the intereft of which was but a fcanty maintenance, in fo dear a country, for one of her fpirit. Upon this confideration, and indeed very much for my own fatisfaction, who had few friends or acquaintance in Ireland, I prevailed with her, and her dear friend and companion*, the other lady, to draw what money they had into Ireland, a great part of their fortune being in annuities upon funds. Money was then at ten per cent. in Ireland, befides the advantage of returning it, and all neceffaries of life at half the price. They complied with my advice, and soon after came over; but, I happening to continue fome time longer in England, they were much difcouraged to live in Dublin, was at that time about nineteen years old, where they were wholly ftrangers. She * Mrs. Dingley.

and