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he requested them, with visible dejection, to retire; and immediately afterwards drawing from his pocket a piftol, which he had carried about him the whole afternoon, blew out his brains. It appeared that he had passed the evening with these women in the same manner as he had been used to pass many others with different women of the same description, without demanding favours which they would most willingly have granted, and only defiring, in return for the money he lavished on them, the diffipation of their discourse, or, at moft, the ceremony of a falute, to divert the sorrow that preyed upon his tortured mind. But the gratitude he felt for the temporary oblivion which these intercourses afforded, sometimes ripened into feelings of the warmest friendship. A celebrated actress of the London Theatre, whose conversations had already drained him of confiderable sums of money, requested of him, only three days before his death, to send her five-and-twenty guineas. At that moment he had only ten guineas about him; but he sent her, with an apology for his inability to comply immediately with her request, all he had, and soon after borrowed the remainder of the money, and sent it to her without delay. This unhappy young man, shortly before the fatal catastrophe, had written to his father, and disclosed to him the distressed situation he was in; and the night, the very night on which he terminated his

existence, existence, his affectionate parent, the good Lord Milton, arrived in London, for the purpose of discharging all the debts, and arranging the affairs, of his unhappy son. Thus lived and died this deftitute and diffipated man! How different from that life which the innocent live, or that death which the virtuous die!

I HOPE I may be permitted in this place to relate the story of a young lady whose memory I am extremely anxious to preserve; for I can with great truth say of her, as Petrarch faid of his beloved Laura, “ The world was unacquainted with the « excellence of her character; for she was only « known to those whom she has left behind to (bewail her lofs.”_Solitude was all the world she knew; for her only pleasures were those which a retired and virtuous life affords. Submitting with pious resignation to the dispensations of Heaven, her weak frame fustained, with steady fortitude, every affliction of mortality. Mild, good, and tender, she endured her fufferings without a murmur or a sigh; and, although naturally timid and reserved, disclosed the feelings of her foul with all the warmth of filial enthusiasm. Of this description was the superior character of whom I now write; a character who convinced me, by her fortitude under the severest misfore tunes, how much strength Solitude is capable S

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of conveying to the mind even of the feebleft be. ing. Diffident of her own powers, she listened to the precepts of a fond parent, and relied with perfect confidence on the goodness of God. Taught by my experience, submitting to my judgment, the entertained for me the most ardent affection; and convinced me not by profesions, but by actions, of her sincerity. Willingly would I have sacrificed my life to have saved her; and I am satisfied that she would as willingly have given up her own for me. I had no pleasure but in pleafing her, and

my endeavours for that purpose were most gratefully returned. A rose was my favourite flower, and she presented one to me almost daily during the season. I received it from her hand with the highest delight, and cherished it as the richest treasure. A malady of almost a singular kind, a hæmorrhage in the lungs, suddenly deprived me of the comfort of this beloved child, and tore her from my-protecting arms. From the knowledge I had of her conftitution, I immediately perceived that the diforder was mortal. How frequently during that fatal day did my wounded, bleeding heart bend me on my knees before God to supplicate for her recovery. But I concealed my feelings from her. observation. Although fenfible of her danger, she never discovered the least apprehenfion of its apo proach. Smiles played around her pallid cheeks. whenever I entered or quitted the room; and when

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worn down by the fatal distemper, a prey to the moft corroding grief, a victim to the fharpest and most intolerable pains, she made no complaint; but mildly answered all my questions by some short sentence, without entering into any detail, Her decay and impending diffolution became obvious to the eye; but to the last moment of her life, her countenance preserved a serenity correspondent to the purity of her mind, and the affectionate tenderness of her heart. Thus I beheld my dear, my only daughter, at the age of five-andtwenty,afteralingering suffering of nine long, long months, expire in my arms. So long and so fevere an attack was not necessary to the conqueft: fhe had been the submiffive victim of ill health from her earliest infancy: her appetite was almost gone when we left Swisserland; a residence which the quitted with her usual sweetness of temper, and without discovering the smallest regret; although a young man, as handsome in his person as he was amiable in the qualities of his mind, the object of her first, her only affection, a few weeks afterwards put a period to his existence. During the few happy days we passed at Hanover, where she rendered herself universally respected and beloved, fhe amused herself by composing religious prayers, which were afterwards found among her papers, and in which the implores death to afford her a speedy relief from her pains. During the same

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period she wrote also many letters, always affect. ing, and frequently sublime. They were couched in expreffions of the same defire speedily to reunite her soul with the Author of her days. The last words that my dear, my well-beloved child uttered, amidst the most painful agonies, were thefe" To-day I shall taste the joys of Heaven!” *

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The meek, calm, and pious resignation with which this ami. ablé girl is described to have endured the afflictions of life, and defled the torments of death, will perhaps bring to mind the fentiments of that sublime Ode by Mr. Pope, of “ A dying Christian to his Soul.

" Vital fpark of heavenly filame !
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame !
" Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying;

“ Oh the pain, the bliss of dying !
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life!

“ Hark! they' whisper ; Angels says
• Sister Spirit, come away!
" What is this absorbs me quite,

« Steals my senses, shuts my fight,
« Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ?
" Tell me, my soul, can this be Death?

66 The world recedes ! it disappearg !
“ Heav'n opens on my eyes, my ears

.“ With sounds seraphic ring :
" Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fy!
660, Grave ! where is thy Victory!

“ O, Death! where is thy Sting?

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