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Since first I breathed the sigh sincere,

And twined the cypress garland round thy tomb,'

and adds the following affecting stanza:

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Perhaps thy gentle spirit still surveys,

With some regard, the object once so dear,
Nor undelighted feels the honest praise

Which Truth bestows on Death's unflatter'd ear.'

The whole elegy breathes much esteem for the object of it, whose name is not recorded.

The most intimate among Mrs. Carter's friends, and the most regular of her correspondents, appear to have been Miss Talbot and Mrs. Montagu. To the former she was indebted for her intimacy with Archbishop Secker, whom she often visited at Lambeth; and by the latter she was introduced into the higher circles of literary and fashionable life. No person ever commanded more of the respect of society, or was treated with greater kindness by her acquaintance. Her friends had expected that Lord Bath, with whom towards the close of his life she had been on terms of intimacy, and in whose company she had travelled to Spa, would bequeath her a handsome provision but they were disappointed. When, however, his lordship's fortune devolved on Sir W. Johnstone, who then took the name of Pulteney, that gentleman immediately settled on her an annuity of 100l.; which was afterward, in consideration of the pressure of the times, increased to 150l. Mrs. Montagu being enabled, by the death of her husband, who left his whole fortune at her disposal, to assist her friend, she also granted Mrs. Carter tool. a year, and secured it by her bond. These donations, added to her patrimony, to some occasional legacies, and to the acquisitions made by her several publications, provided her with a competent income; a considerable part of which was uniformly devoted to charitable purposes,

After having obtained in her youth the greatest reputation for learning and abilities, it may seem singular that a long time elapsed before she again appeared at the bar of the public; and still more so, that her only subsequent productions were the Translation of Epictetus in 1757, and a small volume of poems in 1762. They are both too well known to require any observation here: but it will be considered honourable to the good sense of the public at that time, that 1018 copies of the Epictetus were found insufficient for the subscribers, and it became necessary to print 250 more. It sold so well, and the price kept up so remarkably, that, some years afterward, Dr. Secker, then Archbishop of Canterbury, brought a bookseller's catalogue to her, saying, "Here, Madam Carter, see how ill I am used by the world; here are my

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sermons

sermons selling at half price, while your Epictetus truly is not to be had under eighteen shillings, only three shillings less than the original subscription." That excellent work has been thrice reprinted, twice in her lifetime, in two volumes duodecimo, and since her death in two volumes octavo. The Archbishop entertained some apprehensions that this book might injure the cause of religion, by placing the power of philosophy in too strong a light; and though Mrs. Carter's observations on this subject, in her correspondence with Miss Talbot, are very convincing, yet, in deference to his Grace's scruples, she multiplied her notes and cautions.

The poems attracted a degree of attention, for which we suspect that they were less indebted to their intrinsic merit, than to the previous celebrity of their author, and her numerous connections in the literary world. They were translated, some into French, some into Latin; and they were ushered into the world with considerable pomp and ceremony, having an eulogy in blank verse prefixed to them by Lord Lyttelton, (as the name appears to have been written by himself and his contemporaries), and being dedicated to the Earl of Bath, in the following short address:

• My Lord,

The world will judge the more favourably of this Collection, from being told that it was printed by your desire; and my own seruples about the publication will be the less painful, if you accept it as a testimony of the gratitude and respect, with which I have the honour to be, My Lord,

Your Lordship's most obliged

And most obedient humble servant,

ELIZABETH CARTER,'

Mr. Pennington thinks that this dedication is highly creditable to both parties, but more particularly so to Lord Bath,' because it is probable that he wrote it himself. Our readers will not perhaps judge quite so favourably of his lordship's modesty. The editor seems, however, to have formed a just estimate of this lady's poems, when he states that their 'general character seems to be rather ease, correctness, and elegance, than fire or strength.' To their excellent moral tendency they are principally indebted for the station which they still retain in the libraries of the fair. The best of them, in our opinion, was composed on the birth-day which completed. the author's eighteenth year: it stands first in the collection here printed, and exhibits great strength of thought and feeling. We should transcribe some portion of it; but, having been long in the hands of the public, it is not to be considered

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As now properly falling under our examination. The following Stanzas never appeared before; and we extract them to prove the kind and affectionate disposition of the writer, while they evince her poetic talent:

Written during the Sleeping of an afflicted Friend.

Angels of Peace! whose heav'nly whisper cheers
The drooping heart opprest by guiltless woes,
Shed your soft comforts o'er Cecilia's cares,
And lull the beauteous suff'rer to repose.
Let no sad image of distressful day,

Touch the quick feeling of suspended grief:
Nor hopes that vanish at the morning ray,
Delude her sorrows by a false relief.

Ye delegated guardians of the good!
While the calm hours of vacant slumber last,
Conduct her fancy to the blest abode,
Where virtue smiles on every trial past.

When waking life its scene of care renews,
The radiant vision on her mind shall glow,
Inspirit every duty's gen'rous views,

And soften every task below.'

The change of measure in the last line makes it probable that they were not finished.—It is not stated how many editions of Mrs. C.'s poems have been printed.

The life of this lady is not much diversified by incidents; and we are cut off, in the present instance, from a fruitful source of anecdote and depository of character and opinion, by her extreme aversion to the publication, and even to the pri vate communication, of her epistolary correspondence.

Mrs. Carter expressed a wish to her executor, that her letters should not be published. And in two letters to friends now deceased, she gives the following reasons for it :-" I do not deem any opinion of mine of consequence enough to be brought as an authority, and you have more than once heard me declare my great aversion to being quoted, or having any part of my letters seen by any body." This was in 1766; the other was four years before that time, and is as follows:-"I am perfectly easy in regard to your promise about my letters at present. You may perhaps think it a foolish solicitude about a thing of very little consequence, that I should make a point of their not being shewn now. Indeed I cannot very well explain my own feeling about it. I only know that I could no more write freely to you, with a view to my letters being seen, than I could talk freely when I knew a third person overheard me."

Her motive appears to have been the dread of giving currency to light and rash opinions on the characters of indivi

duals,

duals, and even on moral and religious subjects: but as the editor assures us with the greatest probability that she never indulged in scandal, nor ever uttered a sentiment that was not calculated to do good, it may be thought that he would have been justified in attending rather to the spirit than the letter of her instructions, and might have fairly published any letters that did not implicate particular persons. A few of them he has felt himself at liberty to select, which certainly deserve all the praise of perfect rectitude and propriety; though we did not find those which are addressed to Miss Talbot, nor that lady's answers, on the subject of Epictetus, particularly entertaining. Her descriptions of her travels to Spa, and the objects and persons that she encountered both there and on the road, form a very pleasing journal; and, since these travels may be regarded as the most considerable event in her life, we shall offer our readers a few of the observations which they drew from her. The party consisted of Lord Bath, the late Dr. Douglas, (afterward Bishop of Salisbury,) Mrs. Montagu, and Mrs. Carter. They landed at Calais on the 4th of June 1763, and returned to Dover on the 19th of September in the same year. They went first to Spa, and then, after a short tour in Germany, proceeded down the Rhine into Holland; and thence, through Brussels, Ghent, Bruges, and Dunkirk, to Calais again. The first impression produced by the coup d'ail of a French town is described with animation. Having been ill during the voyage, she adds:

"I grew better after we were set on shore, and well enough before we reached the inn to find myself extremely inclined to laugh at the objects that struck me in passing the streets; and particularly in crossing the market, where I saw such a mixture of rags, and dirt, and finery, as was entirely new to an English spectator. The women at the stalls, who looked as if they were by no means possessed of any thing like a shift, were decorated with long dangling ear-rings. To own the honest truth, however, there is a politesse, and an empressment pour vous servir, among the lower kind of people here, that is very engaging, and I find quite a pleasure in talking to them. You will wonder how I have found time to discover all this already, but the French rapidity carries one a great way in a short space. There is a little perruquier, with a most magnificent queue, belonging to the inn, with whom I am upon the most friendly terms imaginable, and he is

An advertisement in the newspapers has just informed us that Mr. Pennington is printing, in two quarto volumes, a series of letters between Mrs. Carter and Miss Talbot, and also Mrs. C.'s letters to Mrs. Vesey, which the latter lady requested to have published. This intended large donation has, we confess, rather surprized us, after the preceding statement.

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my second page. My first is one provided for me by my Lord Bath, a little French boy with an English face."

"At a convent in Lisle is a kind of altar with an image of the Virgin and our Saviour, both with black faces; for which we could get no better reason than that our Lady of Loretto was the same. They bid us get up upon a chair, and peep into a little hole of a closet behind the altar, to see the kitchen furniture of the Virgin: all I remember of the contents was a stove and a little brass kettle. I think nothing but the testimony of my own eyes could have perfectly convinced me of the miserable, trifling fopperies of Popery. Most of the images are such mere dolls, that one would think the children would cry for them. Even the high altars are decorated with such a profusion of silly gewgaw finery, as one would think better adapted to the amusement of girls and boys, than to inspire sentiments of devotion. I feel extremely uncomfortable with hearing bells ringing all day long, without being able to go to church; but I hope this heathenish kind of life will be over when we get to Spa, and we shall have a kind of worship in which I can join."

At Spa, the Prince Bishop of Augsburg was the man of the highest rank, and kept a kind of public table. • His Highness is extremely well bred, and obliging, and looks like a very quiet, good kind of man; but had nothing of an episcopal appearance in his dress, for he was in a blossom-coloured coat, with an embroidered star on his breast, and a diamond cross; but his behaviour is extremely proper; and it seems, as soon as his guests are withdrawn, he reads prayers himself. He dines at a little after twelve, so the company is dismissed a little after two.' Mrs. Carter seems to have derived no great pleasure from these princely entertainments, of which she thus speaks in another letter:

The Bishop of Augsburg keeps a table, and invites all the com pany by turns. We have dined there once, and are to dine there again to-day. The dining with a Sovereign Prince is an affair of more honour than pleasure, and is nothing like society. One circumstance is very awkward to little folks, that the attendants are all men of quality; and we must either choke with thirst, or employ a Count or Baron to bring a glass of water. An Excellence with an embroidered star comes to us from his Highness when dinner is upon table, which is half an hour after twelve. I must go and dress for this most serene visit; but was unwilling to lose this post to thank you for your letter.'

There is something very touching, in Mrs. C.'s account of a fair incognita, whom she met at Spa, and it is the only occasion on which we observe our sober country-woman treading on the borders of romantic feeling:

This place grows every day more and more crowded, and I every day less and less attentive to the bustle from the pleasure I find in the conversation

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