solicitation of her daughter, the countess of Bute, to her native land, where she died in August 62. The first of these volumes, besides the "Memoirs" and a translation of the Enchiridion of Epictetus, made by Lady Mary in her youth, which was scarcely worth publishing, contains such of her letters as were written before the year 1717. These are chiefly addressed to Mrs. Wortley, afterwards her motherin-law, and to Mr. E. Wortley Montagu. Those to Mrs. Wortley are written in pure and elegant language, and afford many indications of the sprightly wit, some of the sarcastic humour, for which she was afterwards so eminent. But she had not yet completely thrown off the shackles of dull formality, and sub. stituted her own inimitable ease and artless grace, in place of that style of high-flown compliment and affected humility then in vogue, which she herself afterwards did so much to bring into discredit. : Her correspondence with Mr. W. Montagu before their marriage, presents perhaps the most curious specimen of love letters ever disclosed to public view. The gentleman appears to have been much enamoured of her, but fearful that she had too little preference of him, and too great a love of general admiration and gay life, to make a good wife. "If I have you," he tells her, I shall act against my own opinion.' Quite opposite was the case of the lady he greatly esteemed and respected Mr. Wortley, and was eager for the conetion, without being actuated, appaendly, by any thing like passion. She almly endeavours to convince him that e mistakes her character, that her taste - entirely domestic, and that an union ould ensure the happiness of them that the same time she remonstrates th spirit against his suspicion and inson; shows him that she does not at his mercy, and more than once ds him farewel for ever. or writing; and supposing I should attempt to shew it you, I know no other way. I begin to be tired of my humility: I than I ought. You make new scruples: have carried my complaisance to you farther you have a great deal of fancy; and your distrusts being all of your own making, are more immoveable than if there were some real ground for them. Our aunts and grandmothers always tell us, that men are a sort of animals, that if ever they are constant, 'tis only where they are ill used. 'Twas a kind has taught me the truth of it. You are the of paradox I could not believe: experience first I ever had a correspondence with, and I thank God I have done with it for all my life. You needed not to have told me you are not what you have been one must be stupid not to find a difference in your let ters. You seem, in one part of your last, to excuse yourself from having done me any injury in point of fortune. Do I accuse you any? of with you. "I have not spirits to dispute any longer mined: let me determine for you, and save You say you are not yet deteryou the trouble of writing again. Adieu for ever:-make no answer. I wish among the variety of acquaintance, you may find some one to please you; and can't help the vanity of thinking, should you try them all, you won't find one that will be so sincere in deserving, and every one happier. Tis a their treatment, though a thousand more piece of vanity and injustice I never forgive a woman, to delight to give pain; what must I think of a man who takes pleasure in making me uneasy? After the folly of letting you know it is in your power, I ought in prudence to let this go no farther, except I thought you had good nature enough never to make use of that power. I have no reason to think so: however, I am willing, you see, to do you the highest obligation 'tis possible for me to do; that is, to give you a fair occasion of being rid of me. "M. P." How this singular couple contrived to make a match at last does not appear: but married they were, without the consent of her father. The second and almost half the third volume of the present collection, are occupied by the well known "Letters during Mr. Wortley's embassy," of which it is negdicss for us to speak. The letters to the countess of Mar which succeed, contain much of the tittle-tattle of a licentious court, and many sa gacious remarks on life and manners, of which her ladyship was a curious observer and sharp-sighted critic. We are compelled to pronounce these letters the most entertaining that ever were written, though we must at the Ꮶ k Ꮞ same time confess, that they contain several expressions which, even in an age less delicate than the present, must have appeared too bold to escape a female pen; and breathe a spirit of libertine levity, which it may be difficult to avoid inhaling in the corrupt atmosphere of a court, but which imparts a taint that neither wit the most brilliant, nor good sense the most admirable, can disguise or palliate. That woman must have been more than a saint who could refrain from talking scandal, when she was capable of clothing it in such a style as this! "Poor Lady Gis parting from her discreet spouse for a mere trifle. She had a mind to take the air this spring in a new yacht (which Lord Hillsborough built for many good uses, and which has been the scene of much pleasure and pain): she went in company with his lordship, Fabrice, Mr. Cook, Lady Litchfield, and her sister, as far as Greenwich, and from thence as far as the mouth of the Nore; when to the great surprize of the good company, who thought it impossible the wind should not be so fair to bring them back as it was to carry them thither, they found there was no possibility of returning that night. Lady G, in all the concern of a good wife, desired her lord might be informed of her safety, and that she was no way blameable in staying out all night. Fabrice wrote a most gallant letter to Lord G; concluding that Mr. Cook presents his humble service to him, and let him know (in case of necessity) his wife was in town but his lordship not liking the change, I suppose, carried the letter straight to the king's majesty, who not being at leisure to give an audience, he sent it in open by Mahomet; though it is hard to guess what sort of redress he intended to petition for-the nature of the thing being such, that had he complained he was no cuckold, his majesty at least might have prevailed that some of his court might confer that dignity upon him; but if he was, neither king, council, nor the two houses of parliament, could make it null and of none effect. This public rupture is succeeded by a treaty of separation, and here is all the scandal that is uppermost in my head. I should be glad to contribute any way to your entertainment, and am very sorry you stand in so much need of it. I am ever yours, "M. W. MONTAGU." But Lady Mary, with all her sprightliness, had certainly too much good sense, probably too many right feelings, to be happy in such a continued scene of vice and folly; and the spleen of the following letter does her more honou than all the wit of the former. "This is a vile world, dear sister, and ! can easily comprehend, that whether one at Paris or London, one is stified with a certain mixture of fool and knave, whet most people are composed of. I would here patience with a parcel of polite rogues, downright honest fools; but father Ada shines through his whole progeny. So mu for our inside; then our outward is so habe to ugliness and distempers, that we are pe petually plagued with feeling our own de cays and seeing those of other people. Ye, sixpennyworth of common sense, divided among a whole nation, would make our lives roll away glibly enough ;, but then we make laws, and we follow customs: b the first we cut off our own pleasures, by the second we are answerable for t faults and extravagance of others. All th things, and five hundred more, convie me (as I have the most profound venerati for the author of nature) I am satis! have been one of the condemned ever sincel was born; and in submission to the dive justice, I have no doubt but I deserved it is some pre-existent state. I will still he that I am only in purgatory; and that after whining and pining a certain number ei years, I shall be translated to some mo happy sphere, where virtue will be natural and custom reasonable; that is, in sher, where common sense will reign. I very devout, as you see, and place all r hopes in the next life, being totally per suaded of the nothingness of this. D you remember how miserable we were the little parlour at Thoresby? we th thought marrying would put us at once i possession of all we wanted. Then cam though, after all, I am still of opiat that it is extremely silly to submit to fortune. One should pluck up a spitit, za live upon cordials when one can have other nourishment. These are my pre endeavours, and I run about, thou have five thousand pins and needles is heart. I try to console myself with a damsel, who is at present every the like-but, alas! she is yet in a white ta At fourteen, she may run away with butler-there's one of the blessed effec disappointment; you are not only hur the thing present, but it cuts off all tur hope, and makes your very expectations lancholy. Quelle vie ! "M. W. M. The letters written to her husband and daughter during her last residenc abroad, exhibit this extraordinary man in yet another point of view. The show her, after passing the meridian ** Her daughter, afterwards countess of Bute." life in all the splendours and frivolities of the great and busy world, again retiring to a rural privacy, resembling that of her early years, once more recurring to the studies which had then occupied her thoughts and formed her chief enjoyment; soothing the pains of exile by philosophic reflection, by the contemplation of the beauties of nature in the delicious climate of Italy, and by the pleasing pursuits of agriculture and gardening. Not as formerly, amusing herself with the dreams of hope and delusions of fancy, but calmly impart ing to her posterity the lessons of grey experience, and the results of extensive reading and sober meditation: and whilst her wit, instead of arming with its lightnings the uplifted hand of satire, now gilds the brow of wisdom with bright, but lambent, glories. Her pictures of the world are indeed somewhat dark and uninviting;-but when have knowledge and sagacity been employed in making discoveries entirely to the advantage of human nature? From volumes so rich in striking passages, it is no robbery to select a few, for the confirmation of our remarks, and the entertainment of our readers. The follow. ing observation is so just, that it is strange it should be so new: Ifind tar-water has succeeded to Ward's drop: it is possible by this time that some other quackery has taken place of that; the English are easier than any other nation in-. tuated by the prospect of universal medipines; nor is there any country in the world where the doctors raise such immense ortunes. I attribute it to the fond creduity which is in all mankind. We have no onger faith in miracles and reliques, and, herefore, with the same fury, run after reets and physicians: the same money hich, three hundred years ago, was given the health of the soul, is now given for he health of the body, and by the same ot of people, women and half-witted men: the country, where they have shrines and res, quacks are despised, and monks and nfessors find their account in managing fear and hope which rule the actions of e multitude." Among many excellent observations female education, in her ideas on hich subject Lady Mary anticipated he present age, we meet with these: Teannot help writing a sort of apology my last letter, foreseeing that you will ink it wrong, or at least Lord Bute will extremely shocked, at the proposal of a ted education for daughters, which the generality of men believe to be as great a us with more art to deceive them, which is directly contrary to the truth. Fools are always enterprising, not seeing the difficulties of deceit, or the ill consequences of detection. I could give many examples of ladies whose conduct has been very notorious, which has been owing to that ignorance, which has exposed them to idleness, which is justly called the mother of mischief. There is nothing so like the education of a woman of quality as that of a prince: they are taught to dance, and the exterior part of what is called good breeding, which, if they attain, they are extraordinary creatures in their kind, and have all the accomplishments required by their directors. The same characters are formed by the same lessons, which inclines me to think (if I dare say it) that nature has not placed us in an inferior rank to men, no more than the females of other animals, where we see no distinction of capacity; though, I am persuaded, if there was a commonwealth of rational horses (as Doctor Swift has supposed), it would be an established maxim among them, that a mare could not be taught to pace. I could add a great deal on this subject, but I am not now endeavouring to remove the prejudices of mankind; my only design is to point out to my grand-daughters the method of being contented with that retreat, to which unforeseen circumstances may oblige them, and which is perhaps preferable to all the show of public life.' "I can't forbear saying something in reJation to my grand-daughters, who are very near my heart. If any of them are fond of reading, I would not advise you to hinder them (chiefly because it is impossible) seeing poetry, plays, or romances; but accustom them to talk over what they read, and point out to them, as you are very capable of doing, the absurdity often concealed under fiue expressions, where the sound is apt to engage the admiration of young people. I was so much charmed at fourteen, with the dialogue of Henry and Emma, I can say it by heart to this day, without reflecting on the monstrous folly of the story in plain prose, where a young heiress to a fond father, is represented falling in love with a fellow she had only seen as a huntsman, a falconer, and a beggar, and who confesses, without any circumstance of excuse, that he is ob liged to run his country, having newly committed a murder. She ought reasonably to have supposed him, at best, a highwayman; yet the virtuous virgin resolves to run away with him, to live among the banditti, and wait upon his trollop, if she had no other way of enjoying his company. This senseless tale is, however, so well varnished with melody of words, and pomp of sentiments, I am convinced it has hurt more girls than ever were injured by the worst poems extant." On the authors of the day her remarks are always shrewd, and often sarcastic. For instance, "I own I have small regard for Lord Be lingbroke as an author, and the highest contempt for him as a man. He came into the world greatly favoured both by nature and fortune, blest with a noble birth, heir to a large estate, endowed with a strong cons tution, and, as I have heard, a beautiful figure, high spirits, a good memory, and i lively apprehension, which was cultivated by a learned education: all these glorious advantages being left to the direction of a judgment stifled by unbounded vanity, be dishonoured his birth, lost his estate, ruined his reputation, and destroyed his health, by a wild pursuit of eminence even in vice and trifles. "His confederacy with Swift and Po puts me in mind of that of Bessus and bu sword men, in the King and no King, who endeavour to support themselves by ging certificates of each other's merit. Pope lu triumphantly declared that they may do cad say whatever silly things they please, they will still be the greatest geniuses patare uret exhibited. I am delighted with the end, rison given of their benevolence, wika s indeed most aptly figured by a circle in the water, which widens till it comes to nothing at all." Fielding was her relation and friend: she blamed his dissolute manners, but pitied the poverty which compelled "to throw into the world what he ough to have thrown into the fire." She the draws his character: E "I am sorry for H. Fielding's death, only as I shall read no more of his writ but I believe he lost more than others, as man enjoyed life more than he did, th few had less reason to do so, the highest his preferment being raking in the sinks of vice and misery. I should thus a nobler and less nauseous employes be one of the staff-officers that conduc nocturnal weddings. His happy consti (even when he had, with great pains, l demolished it) made him forget every when he was before a venison pasty, ore a flask of champaigne; and I am persua he has known more happy moments 5 any prince upon earth. His natural gave him rapture with his cook-maid, cheerfulness when he was starving in ret. There was a great similitude le his character and that of Sir Richard Sc He had the advantage both in learning, in my opinion, genius: they both age wanting money in spite of all their for and would have wanted it, if their hersinlands had been as extensive as their nation; yet each of them was so force! happiness, it is pity he was not immora With two passages relative to her own tastes and feelings in the last years of her life we reluctantly close our ex tracts. "I no more expect to arrive at the age of the duchess of Marlborough, than to that of Methusalem; neither do I desire it. I have long thought myself useless to the world. I have seen one generation pass away; and it is gone; for I think there are very few of those left that flourished in my youth. You will perhaps call these melancholy reflections: they are not so. There is a quiet after the abandoning of pursuits, something like the rest that follows a laborious day. I tell you this for your comfort. It was formerly a terrifying view to me, that I should one day be an old woman. I now find that nature has provided pleasures for every state. Those are only unhappy who will not be contented with what she gives, but strive to break through her laws, by affecting a perpetuity of youth, which appears to me as little desirable at present as the babies do to you, that were the delight of your infancy. I am at the end of my paper, which shortens the sermon." "Daughter! daughter! don't call names; you are always abusing my pleasures, which is what no mortal will bear. Trash, lumber, sad stuff, are the titles you give to my favourite amusement. If I called a white staff a stick of wood, a gold key gilded brass, and the ensigns of illustrious orders, coloured strings, this may be philosophically true, but would be very ill received. We hare all our play-things, happy are they that can be contented with those they can obtain: those hours are spent in the wisest manner, that can easiest shade the ills of life, and are the least productive of ill consequences. I think my time better employed reading the adventures of imaginary peole, than the duchess of Marlborough, who. passed the latter years of her life in paddling with her will, and contriving schemes of plaguing some, and extracting praise from thers, to no purpose; eternally disappointed, and eternally fretting. The active scenes are wer at my age. I indulge, with all the art ean, my taste for reading. If I would onfine it to valuable books, they are almost as rare as valuable men. I must be content with what I can find, As I approach a se cond childhood, I endeavour to enter into the pleasures of it. Your youngest son is, perhaps, at this very moment riding on a poker, with great delight, not at all regretting that it is not a gold one, and much less wishing it an Arabian horse, which he could not know how to manage. I am reading an idle tale, not expecting wit or truth in it, and am very glad it is not metaphysics to puzzle my judgment, or history to mislead my opinion: he fortifies his health by exercise; I calin my cares by oblivion. The methods may appear low to busy people; but, if he improves his strength, and I forget my infirmities, we both attain very desirable ends." On the whole it may safely be affirmed, that Lady Mary's present letters confirm the pretensions of her sex to peculiar excellence in the epistolary style; and that however highly France may estimate her Sevigné, England may claim a loftier station for her Montagu. In wit, perhaps, they were equal; and if our countrywoman is surpassed in tender sentiment and the lighter graces by her French rival, she greatly surpasses her in philosophy, in good sense, in solidity, and energetic conciseness. The poetry of Lady Mary partakes much of the character of her prose. The Town Eclogues, all of which appear to have been hers, and many other of her earlier and lighter pieces, are well known:-as a specimen of her later and graver ones, we select two stanzas written in her Italian retreat, which afford a better summary of her life, and most other lives, than any which it is in our power to offer. "Wisdom, slow product of laborious years, The only fruit that life's cold winter bears; Thy sacred seeds in vain in youth we lay, By the fierce storm of passion torn away. "Should some remain in a rich gen'rous soil, They long lie hid, and must be rais'd with toil; Faintly they struggle with inclement skies, No sooner born than the poor planter dies." ART. XIII. General Biography; or Lives, Critical and Historical, of the most eminent Persons of all Ages, Countries, Conditions, and Professions, arranged according to Alpbabetical Order. Composed by J. AIKIN, M.D. the Rev. THOMAS MORGAN, and Mr. WILLIAM JOHNSTON. 4to. vol. IV. (from Fab. to Gyl.) HAVING already noticed this interusting work (see Ann. Rev. for 1802, p.617.) we shall content ourselves, on The present occasion, with announcing The appearance of the fourth volume, and giving a short summary of its conents. The volume before us compre hends the letters F. and G., under which a number of first-rate characters are included. Among the sovereigns, the Prussian Frederics hold the highest rank; and of these, the life of Frederic the third, or the Great, as he is usually called, is detailed considerably at length, |