dered. Sixty summers had passed over his head ere the first benefice (if we except the small living of Wynslade) came into his posses sion; and he had approached far nearer to seventy years of age ere he enjoyed the remainder. Late indeed then must we acknowledge his reward to have been for a life so useful and so ornamental to society. "The fatigues arising from the management and instruction of a public school, demanded those exertions to which the Doctor's advanced time of life now became incompetent. After many irresolute fluctuations of opinion, after strong combats between propriety and inclination, the spring of 1793 wit nessed the annunciation of his departure from the mastership at the ensuing election; in consequence of which notice, on July the 23d, he retired to his rectory of Wickham, carrying with him the love, admiration, and esteem, of the whole Wykehamical Society. "That ardent mind which had so eminently distinguished the exercise of his public duties, did not desert him in the hours of leisure and retirement; for inactivity was foreign to his nature. His parsonage, his farm, his garden, were cultivated and adorned with the eagerness and taste of undiminished youth; whilst the beauties of the surrounding forest scenery, and the interesting grandeur of the neigh bouring shore, were enjoyed by him with an enthusiasm innate in his very being. His lively sallies of playful wit, his rich store of literary anecdote, and the polished and habitual ease with which he imperceptibly entered into the various ideas. and pursuits of men in different situations, and endowed with educations totally opposite, rendered him an acquaintance both profitable and amusing; whilst his unaffected piety and unbounded charity stamped him a pastor adored by his parishioners. Difficult in deed would it be to decide, whe ther he shone in a degree less in this social character than in the closet of criticism or the chair of instruction. "The habits of literary occupa tion were not to be shaken off, or the love of critical discussion extin guished. In the course of the year 1797 he edited, in nine volumes octavo, prefaced by the following advertisement, the works of that poet on whose genius and writings he had before so successfully com mented: The public is here presented with a complete edition of the Works of Pope, both in verse and prose; accompanied with va rious notes and illustrations. The reason for undertaking it, was the universal complaint that Dr. War burton had disfigured and disgraced his edition with many forced and far-sought interpretations, totally unsupported by the passages which they were brought to elucidate. If this was only my single opinion, nothing could have induced me to have delivered it with so much free. dom; nor to have undertaken this work after it had passed through the hands of Dr. Warburton. Many, however, of his notes, that do not fall under this description, are here adopted. To this edition are now added, several poems undoubt edly of our author's hand; and in prose, many letters to different correspondents, which, from the circumstances of literary history which they contain, it was thought might be entertaining; together with his Thoughts on various Subjects; his Account of the Madness of Dennis; the Poisoning of Edmund Curl; the Essay on the Ori gin of Sciences; the Key to the Rape of the Lock; and that piece of inimitable humour, the Fourteenth Chapter of Scriblerus, on the Double Mistress; all of which were inserted in his own edition in quarto, 1741. And to these is added, also, one of the best of his compositions, his Postscript to the Odyssey. If I have sometimes ventured, in the following remarks, to point out any seeming blemishes and imperfections in the works of this excellent poet, I beg it may be imputed, not to the dull, malignant delight' of seeking to find out trivial faults, but merely to guard the reader from being misled, by the example of a writer, in general, so uniformily elegant and correct.' "The peculiar circumstances which, owing to the Doctor's prior publication, were inseparable from this edition, rendered plagiarism (if the stealing from himself merits the title) inevitable. Many of the notes were unavoidably transferred from the Essay, though be it recollected a considerable portion of new matter was introduced. In addition to the criticisms of the reviews, which generally on literary works decide with fairness and impartiality, and of whose judgment few who at tack neither religion or morality, or insidiously dabble in political quackeries, have cause to complain; an harsh and unjustifiable attack was made on my valuable and learned friend, in a satire to which the attention of the public had been peculiarly awakened. That objections might fairly be made to the edition of Pope, it is far from my purpose to deny; but when we read the unfeeling and inapplicable reproach contained in the folJowing lines, Better to disappoint the public hope, once trod The Winton pedant shakes his little rod'→→ "Although Dr. Warton certainly felt the misrepresentations of his motives and character, and the contemptuous and indelicate manner in which he had been treated, yet he did not so totally shrink from the grey-goose plume nodding on the head of this inexorable censor, as to hang up his armour unfit for future enterprise, and give up the remainder of his days to indolence and ease. "He entered on an edition of Dryden, an author for whose exalted genius and strong powers of mind he felt the most decisive admiration, and some of whose works he had already rescued from the mistaken severity of prejudice and error. Between this period and the close of 1799, he completely finished two volumes of this poet with notes; and in opposition to the encroachments of a too resistless malady, was proceeding in his classical and interesting pursuit, when nature completely sunk under disease, and the very early part of the ensuing spring put an end to a life, the great er part of which had been dedicated to the most useful and honourable employments, and no period of which had been such as to call a blush into the cheek of those who from consanguinity or friendship looked back with regret on its termination." The LIFE of Mrs. LUCY HUTCHINSON.-Written by Herself.- [From MEMOIRS of the LIFE of COLONEL HUTCHINSON.] "The "THE Almighty Author of all beings *, in his various providences, whereby he conducts the lives of men from the cradle to the tomb, exercises no lesse wisdome and goodnesse then he manifests power and greatnesse in their creation, but such is the stupidity of blind mortalls that insteed of employing their studies in these admirable bookes of providence, wherein God dayly exhibitts to us glorious characters of his love, kindnesse, wisdome, and justice, they ungratefully regard them not, and call the most wonderfull operations of the greate God the common accidents of humane life, specially if they be such as are usuall, and exercised towards them in ages wherein they are not very capable of observation, and whereon they seldome employ any reflexion; for in things greate and extraordi. nary some perhaps will take notice of God's working, who either for gett or believe not that he takes as well a care and account of their smallest concernments, even the haires of their heads. "Finding myselfe in some kind guilty of this generall neglect, I thought it might be a meanes to stirre up my thankefulnesse for things past, and to encourage my faith for the future, if I recollected, as much as I have heard or can re * That noble turn of thought which led Mrs. Hutchinson to open her work with thanks to her Maker, instead of apologies to the readers, besides the claim it has to their respect instead of their indulgence, will probably, by its originality, recommend itself, and prevent the distaste which the air of religion, it wears, might give to many, in times when it is so little in fashion. It should be borne in mind that the usage of the times in which it was written was so very different from the present, that those who wish to read with pleasure the works then written, will do well to set their taste according to that standard. Through the whole of both these works moral and religious reflections will be seen to abound, but so as neither to confuse nor fetter, but rather elevate the mind. member, member, of the passages of my youth, and the generall and particular providences exercis'd to me, both in the entrance and progresse of my life. Herein I meete with so many speciall indulgences as require a distinct consideration, they being all of them to be regarded as talents intrusted to my emproove. ment for God's glory. The parents by whom I receiv'd my life, the places where I began and continued it, the time when I was brought forth to be a wittnesse of God's wonderfull workings in the earth, the rank that was given me in my generation, and the advantages I receiv'd in my person, each of them carries allong with it many mercies which are above my utterance, and as they give me infinite cause of glorifying God's goodnesse, so I cannot reflect on them without deepe humiliation for the small emproovement I have made of so richa stock; which that I may yet by God's grace better employ, I shall recall and seriously ponder: and first, as farre as I have since learnt, sett downe the condition of things in the place of my nativity at that time when I was sent into the world. It was on the 29th day of January, in the yeare of our Lord 1619, that in the Tower of London, the principall citie of the English Isie; I was about 4 of the clock in the morning brought forth to behold the ensuing light. My father was Sr. Allen Apsley, leiftenant of the Tower of London; my mother, his third wife, was Lucy, the youngest daughter of Sr. John St. John, of Lidiard Tregoz, in Wilt shire, by his second wife. My fa ther had then living a sonne and a daughter by his former wives, and by my mother three sonns, I being her eldest daughter. The land was then att peace, (it being towards the latter end of the reigne of king James) if that quiettnesse may be call'd a peace, which was rather like the calme and smooth surface of the sea, whose darke womb is allready impregnated of a horrid tempest. "Whoever considers England will find itt no small favour of God to have bene made one of its na tives, both upon spirituall and outward accounts. The happinesse of the soyle and ayre contribute all things that are necessary to the use or delight of man's life. The celebrated glory of this isle's inhabitants, ever since they receiv'd a mention in history, conferrs some honor upon every one of her children, and with it an obligation to continue in that magnanimite and virtue, which hath fam'd this island, and rays'd her head in glory, higher then the greate kingdomes of the neighbouring continent. Brittaine hath bene as a garden enclosed, wherein all things that man can wish, to make a pleasant life, are planted and grow in her owne soyle, and whatsoever forreigne countries yield to encrease admiration and delight, are brought in by her flectes. The people, by the plenty of their country, not being fore'd to toyle for bread, have ever addicted themselfes to more generous employments, and bene reckoned, allmost in all ages, as valliant war If Mrs. Hutchinson in descarting upon the advantages of her native country, and giving almost an epitome of its history, should seem to digress a little too much, it is hoped the reader will find beauty and singularity in her sketch sufficient to excuse it. 1800. B riours : riours as any part of the world sent forth insomuch that the greatest Roman captaines thought it not unworthy of their expeditions, and tooke greate glory in triumphs for unperfect conquests. Lucan upbraids Julius Cæsar for returning hence with a repulse, and 'twas 200 yeares before the land could be redue'd into a Roman province, which att length was done, and such of the nation, then call'd Picts, as scorn'd servitude, were driven into the barren country of Scotland, where they have ever since remain'd perpetuall trouble to the successive inhabitants of this place. The Brittaines that thought it better to worke for their conquerors in a good land, then to have the freedom to sterve in a cold and barren quarter, were by degrees fetchtaway, and wasted in the civill broyles of these Roman lords, till the land, allmost depopulated, lay open to the incursions of every borderer, and were forc'd to call a stout warlike people, the Saxons, out of Germany, to their assistance. These willingly came at their call, but were not so easily sent out againe, nor perswaded to lett their hosts inhabite with them, for they drove the Brittaines into the mountaines of Wales, and seated themselves in those pleasant countries which from the new masters receiv'd a new name, and ever since retain'd it, being call'd England; on which the warlike Dane made many attempts, with various successe, but after about 2 or 300 yeares vaine contest, they were for ever driven out, with shame and losse, and the Saxon Heptarchie melted into a monarchie, which continued till the superstitious prince, who was sainted for his ungodly chastitie, left an emptie throne to him that could seize it. He who first set up 1 his standard in it, could not hold it, but with his life left it againe for the Norman usurper, who partly by violence, partly by falshood, layd here the foundation of his monarchie, in the people's blood, in which it hath swom about 500 yeares, till the flood that bore it was plow'd into such deepe fur rows as had allmost sunke the proud vessell. Of those Saxons that remain'd subjects to the Norman conqueror, my father's famely descended; of those Normans that came in with him, my mother's was derived; both of them, as all the rest in England, contracting such affinity, by mutuall marriages, that the distinction remain'd but a short space; Normans and Saxons becoming one people, who by their vallour grewe terrible to all the neighbouring princes, and have not only bravely quitted themselves in their owne defence, but have shew'd abroad, how easily they could subdue the world, if they did not preferre the quiett enioyment of their owne part above the conquest of the whole. "Better lawes and a happier constitution of governement no nation ever enioy'd, it being a mixture of monarchy, aristocratie, and democracy, with sufficient fences against the pest of every one of those formes, tiranny, faction, and confusion; yett is it not possible for man to devize such iust and excellent bounds, as will keepe in wild ambition, when prince's flatterers encourage that beast to breake his fence, which it hath often done, with miserable consequences both to the prince and people: but could never in any age so tread downe popular liberty, but that it rose againe with renewed vigor, till at length it trod on those that trampled it before. And in the iust bounds wherein |