60. Let princely Monmouth courtly wiles beware,

Nor trust too far to fond paternal care;] James, Duke of Monmouth, son of Charles II. was concerned in the plot for which Lord Russel suffered, but for that turn escaped.

EPISTLE VII.

Page 63. When Marius was expell'd from Rome by Sylla's faction, and retired into Africa, his son (who accompanied him) fell into the hands of Hiempsal king of Numidia, who kept him prisoner. One of the Mistresses of that king fell in love with Marius the younger, and was so generous to contrive and give him his liberty, though by that means she sacrificed her love for ever. It was after he had rejoined his father, that she is supposed to write. The substance of this Epistle is taken from Fontenelle.

EPISTLE VIII.

Page 69. Pompey, when he was very young, fell in love with Flora, a Roman courtezan, who was so very beautiful that the Romans had her painted to adorn the temple of Castor and Pollux. Geminius (Pompey's friend) afterwards fell in love with her also; but she, prepossessed with a passion for Pompey, would not listen to Geminius. Pompey, in

compassion to his friend, yielded him his mistress, which Flora took so much to heart, that she fell dangerously ill; and in that sickness is supposed to write the foregoing letter to Pompey.

EPISTLE IX.

Page 74. Roxana, one of Usbeck's wives, was found (whilst he was in Europe) in bed with her lover, whom she had privately let in to the seraglio. The guardian eunuch, who discovered them, had the man murdered on the spot, and her close guarded till he received instructions from his Master how to dispose of her. During that interval she swallowed poison, and is supposed to write this letter whilst she is dying. The substance of the Epistle will be found in Les Lettres Persannes.

EPISTLE X.

Page 79. This Epistle, which Mr. Walpole pronounces the best of Lord Hervey's poetical produc. tions, was designed as an address to the honorable Antony Lowther, from Miss Sophia Howe, Maid of Honor.

EPISTLE XII.

Page 97. Abelard and Eloisa flourished in the twelfth century: they were two of the most distin

guished persons of their age in learning and beauty, but for nothing more famous than for their unfortunate passion. After a long course of calamities, they retired each to a several convent, and consecrated the remainder of their days to religion. It was many years after this separation, that a letter of Abelard's to a friend, which contained the history of his misfortunes, fell into the hands of Eloisa: this occasioned those celebrated letters (out of which the following is partly extracted), which gives so lively a picture of the struggles of grace and nature, virtue and passion. POPE.

The editor of Poems by eminent ladies in two vols. 12mo. printed for R. Baldwin in 1755, have ascribed this poem to Mrs. Madan, and paid her handsome compliments upon it; whereas Mr. Pattison was undoubtedly the author. In the memoirs of his life prefixed to his poems, there is a letter dated York, Oct. 20, 1726, wherein this poem is mentioned as Pattison's, and much commended.

EPISTLE XIII.

Page 104. Mr. Cawthorne, born in the year 1720, at Sheffield in Yorkshire, was admitted of Clare-Hall, Cambridge, where he took his master's degree, and having received orders, became school-assistant in London to a Mr. Clare, whose Sister he afterward married. In the year 1760, he was killed by a fall

from his horse, not long after his appointment by the Skinner's Company to the School at Tunbridge, over which he presided with ability equal to his harshness. Two Sermons and this Epistle were published by him, and since his death a collection of his Poems.

To the original publication of ABELARD to ELOISA the following verses were annexed,

ΤΟ

MISS

OF HORSEMANDEN, IN KENT.

WHEN Wit and Science trim'd their wither'd bays
At Petrarch's vice, and beam'd with half their rays,
Some heav'n-born genius, panting to explore
The scenes Oblivion wish'd to live no more,
Found Abelard in grief's sad pomp array'd,
And call'd the melting mourner from the shade.
Touch'd by his woes, and kindling at his rage,
Admiring nations glow'd from age to age;
From age to age the soft infection ran,
Taught to lament the hermit in the man ;
Pride dropt her crest, Ambition learn'd to sigh,
And dove-like Pity stream'd in every eye.

Sick of the world's applause, yet fond to warm
Each maid that knows with Eloise to charm,
He asks of verse to aid his native fire,
Refines, and wildly lives along the lyre;
Bids all his various passions throb anew,
And hopes, my Fair, to steal a tear from you.

O blest with temper, blest with skill to pour
Life's every comfort on each social hour;
Chaste as thy blushes, gentle as thy mien,
Too grave for folly, and too gay for spleen;
Indulg'd to win, to soften, to inspire,

To melt with music, and with wit to fire;
To blend, as judgment tells thee how to please,
Wisdom with smiles, and majesty with ease;
Alike to virtue as the graces known,

And proud to love all merit but thy own!

These are thy honors, these will charms supply,
When those dear suns shall set in either eye;
While she, who, fond of dress, of paint and place,
Aims but to be a goddess in the face;

Born all thy sex illumines to despise,

Too mad for thought, too pretty to be wise,

Haunts for a year fantastically vain,

With half our Fribbles dying in her train;

Then sinks, as beauty fades and passion cools,

The scorn of coxcombs, and the jest of fools.

EPISTLE XIV.

Page 117. "This Epistle and the following were occasioned by the appearance in England of two Africans who had been trepanned by the captain of a trading vessel, and sold for slaves. One of them was a prince, intrusted to the wretch who betrayed him. A representation of their case by some of the crew to government, occasioned their being ransomed, and afterwards maintained, educated, and sent home to their own country, in a manner suitable to their