Lady M. W. Montagu to Alexander Pope-In Reply.

desire me to try my skill in an epitaph, I think the following lines perhaps more just, but not so poetical as yours :

Here lie John Hughes and Sarah Drew;
Perhaps you'll say, What's that to you?
Believe me, friend, much may be said
On this poor couple that are dead.

On Sunday next they should have married,
But see how oddly things are carried!
On Thursday last it rained and lightened,
These tender lovers, sadly frightened,
Sheltered beneath the cocking hay,
In hopes to pass the time away.
But the bold thunder found them out
(Commissioned for that end no doubt),
And, seizing on their trembling breath,
Consigned them to the shades of death.
Who knows if 'twas not kindly done?
For, had they seen the next year's sun,
A beaten wife and cuckold swain

Had jointly cursed the marriage chain.
Now they are happy in their doom,

For Pope has wrote upon their tomb.

I confess these sentiments are not altogether so heroic as yours; but I hope you will forgive them in favor of the last two lines. You see how much I esteem the honor you have done them; though I am not very impatient to have the same, and had rather continue to be your stupid, living, humble servant, than to be celebrated by all the pens in Europe.

I would write to Congreve, but suppose you will read this to him if he inquires after me.*

* A more interesting and circumstantial account is given by Gay in one of his letters to Pope. That of Pope, borrowed from it, has been selected, as

Lord Chesterfield to Dr. Monsey-His Disease, "Time."

XV.-HIS DISEASE, "TIME.”

Lord Chesterfield to Doctor Monsey.

BATH, Nov. 26th, 1766.

Pray, dear doctor, why must I not write to you? Do you gentlemen of the faculty pretend to monopolize writing in your prescriptions or proscriptions? I will write and thank you for your kind letters; and my writing shall do no hurt to any person living or dying; let the faculty say as much of theirs, if they can. I am very sorry to find that you have not been vastly well of late; but it is vastly to the honor of your skill to have encountered and subdued almost all the ills of Pandora's box. As you are now got to the bottom of it, I trust that you have found hope-which is what we all live upon, much more than upon enjoyment; and without which we should be, from our boasted reason, the most miserable animals of the creation. I do not think that a physician should be admitted into the college till he could bring proofs of his having cured, in his own person, at least four incurable distempers. In the old days of laudable and rational chivalry, a knight could not even present himself to the adorable object of his affections till he had been unhorsed, knocked down, and had two or three spears or lances in his body! but indeed he must be conqueror at last, as you have been. I do not know your goddess Venus or Vana,* nor ever heard of her; but, if she is really a goddess, I must know her as soon as ever I see her walk into the rooms; for " vera incessu

it elicited the answer of Lady Montagu. The light tone in which the latter touches this truly touching incident, is probably no index to her genuine feelings, and may have been intended to keep her too ardent admirer at a proper distance, by treating every approach to tender sentiments with ridicule.-H. * A lady who had just made her appearance at Bath.

Mrs. Piozzi to Dr. Johnson-Correspondence on Mrs. Piozzi's Marriage.

patuit dea." It is for her sake, I presume, that you now make yourself a year younger than you are; for last year you and I were exactly of an age, and now I am turned of seventy-three. As to my body natural, it is as you saw it last; it labors under no particular distemper but one, which may very properly be called chronical, for it is Xpovos itself, that daily steals away some part of me. But I bear with philosophy these gradual depredations upon myself; and well know, that "levius fit patientiá quicquid corrigere est nefas." And so good night, dear

doctor.

XVI.-CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN DR. JOHNSON AND MRS PIOZZI, ON HER MARRIAGE.

Mrs. Piozzi to Dr. Johnson.

BATH, June 30.

MY DEAR SIR: The enclosed is a circular letter which I have sent to all the guardians, but our friendship demands something more; it requires that I should beg your pardon for concealing from you a connection which you must have heard of by many, but I suppose never believed. Indeed, my dear sir, it was concealed only to save us both needless pain: I could not have borne to reject that counsel it would have killed me to take, and I only tell it you now because all is irrevocably settled and out of your power to prevent. I will say, however, that the dread of your disapprobation has given me some anxious moments, and though perhaps I am become, by many privations, the most independent woman in the world, I feel as if acting without a parent's consent till you write kindly to

Your faithful servant.

Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Piozzi-In Answer.

CIRCULAR.

SIR: As one of the executors of Mr. Thrale's will, and guardian to his daughters, I think it my duty to acquaint you that the three eldest left Bath last Friday for their own house at Brighthelmstone, in company with an amiable friend, Miss Nicholson, who has sometimes resided with us here, and in whose society they may, I think, find some advantage, and certainly no disgrace. I waited on them to Salisbury, Wilton, etc., and offered to attend them to the seaside myself; but they preferred this lady's company to mine, having heard that Mr. Piozzi is coming back from Italy, and judging, perhaps, by our past friendship and continued correspondence, that his return would be succeeded by our marriage.

I have the honor to be, sir, your obedient servant. BATH, June 30th, 1784.

XVII. ANSWER.

MADAM: If I interpret your letter right, you are ignominiously married: if it is yet undone, let us once more talk together. If you have abandoned your children and your religion, God forgive your wickedness; if you have forfeited your fame and your country, may your folly do no further mischief. If the last act is yet to do, I who have loved you, esteemed you, reverenced you and served you, I who long thought you the first of womankind, entreat that, before your fate is irrevocable, I may once more see you. I was, I once was, madam, most truly yours, SAM JOHNSON.

July 2d, 1784.

I will come down if you permit it.

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Mrz. Piozzi to Dr. Johnson-In Reply.

XVIII.-IN REPLY.

Mrs. Piozzi to Dr. Johnson.

July 4th, 1784.

SIR: I have this morning received from you so rough a letter in reply to one which was both tenderly and respectfully written, that I am forced to desire the conclusion of a correspondence which I can bear to continue no longer. The birth of my second husband is not meaner than that of my first; his sentiments are not meaner; his profession is not meaner, and his superiority in what he professes acknowledged by all mankind. It is want of fortune, then, that is ignominious; the character of the man I have chosen has no other claim to such an epithet. The religion to which he has been always a zealous adherent will, I hope, teach him to forgive insults he has not deserved; mine will, I hope, enable me to bear them at once with dignity and patience. To hear that I have forfeited my fame is indeed the greatest insult I ever yet received. My fame is as unsullied as snow, or I should think it unworthy of him who must henceforth protect it.

I write by the coach, the more speedily and effectually to prevent your coming hither. Perhaps by my fame (and I hope celebrity which is a consideration

it is so) you mean only that of a much lower kind. I care for that only as it may give pleasure to my husband and his friends.

Farewell, dear sir, and accept my best wishes. You have always commanded my esteem, and long enjoyed the fruits of a friendship never infringed by one harsh expression on my part during twenty years of familiar talk. Never did I oppose your will, or control your wish; nor can your unmerited severity