be prepared for it each hour, since come it must; while the good mind smiles at its sting, and defies, through Christ, its point. Beware of passion and cruelty; the bravest men are always the most humane. Rejoice in good-nature, not only to man but to the meanest insect, yea, to the whole creation; scorn to hurt any living being but for thy food or thy defence. To be cruel is the portion of the coward; while to be brave and humane goes hand-in-hand, and pleases God. Obey as your duty those who are set over you; since, without knowing how to be obedient, none ever knew how to command.

"Now, dear boy, love Mrs. Stedman and her little children from your heart, if ever you had a love for your dead father, who made this request. She has most tenderly proved a help in thy infant state; whilst thou art a brother to her helpless little ones, prove also a parent and guardian by your kindness and conduct. Let your good sense keep peace and harmony in my dear family; then shall the blessing of Almighty God overspread you and them, and we, together with your beloved mother, my dear Johanna, have a chance once more to meet; when, in the presence of our Heavenly Father and merciful benefactor, our joy and happiness shall be eternal and complete, which is the ardent wish, the sincere prayer, and only hope, of your once loving father, who, my dear child, when you read this, shall be no more, and rests, with an affectionate heart to eternity, yours,

J. G. STEDMAN.

"P. S. Let not your grief for my decease overcome you. Let your tears flow with moderation, and trust that I am happy."

1793, Sept.

LXXX. Letters from Charles II. and Lord Lauderdale to the Earl of Northesk, relative to the Marriage of Lord Northesk's Daughter.

MR. URBAN,

Winchester, Jan. 20.

I SEND you the copies of two original letters which I have Jately met with, and which the subject, the style, and the authors of them, will recommend, as matter of curiosity, to many of your readers. The former of these letters is in

the hand-writing of Charles II. the latter, in that of his minister, Lord Lauderdale. They are both addressed to an ancestor of the present Earl of Northesk, at whose seat, in this county, called Rose-hill, they are now preserved. It was with the permission of that noble personage that I procured the present copies to be made for your use; in which the orthography and abbreviations of the originals are strictly preserved. I have only to add, that the spirited lady who refused to take a husband at the royal recommendation, as soon as that was withdrawn, married him for his own merits; and it is believed that the present noble governor of Jersey is, in a direct line, the fruit of that

anion.

Yours, &c.

LETTER L

J. M.

"Whitehall, Nov. 20. 1672.

"My lord Noothesk, I am so much concerned in my lord Balcarress, that heareing he is in suite of one of your daughters, I must lett you know, you cannot bestow her upon a person of whose worth and fidelity I have a better esteeme; which moves me hastily to recommend to you, and your lady, your franck compliance with his designe, and as I do really intend to be very kinde to him, and so do him good as occasion offers, as well for his father's sake as his owne, so if you and your lady condescend to his pretention, and use him kindly in it, I shall take it very kindly at your hands, and reckon it to be done upon the accounte of, Your affectionate friende,

LETTER II.

CHARLES R."

"MY LORD,

Whitehall, Jan. 18, 1672-3.

"YESTERDAY I received yo'rs of the 7th instant, and according to yo'r desire I acquainted the King with it. His Maj'ty commanded me to signify to you that he is satisfyed, for as he did recom'end that marriage, supposing that it was acceptable to both parties, so he did not intend to lay any constraint upon you; therfor he leaves you to dispose of yo'r daughter as you please. This is by his Maj'ties com'and signified to your lordship by, my lord, your lordship's most humble servant, LAUDERDALE."

1794, Jan.

LXXXI. Dr. Johnson on the Death of his Wife.

MR. URBAN, Bath-Row, Worcester, Feb. 14. THE following letter of Dr. Johnson to a friend, upor the death of his wife, Mr. Boswell, in his biographical account of that truly great man, supposes to be, and laments as lost. "The dreadful shock of separation," says he, "took place on the 8th. and he (Dr. Johnson) immediately dispatched a letter to his friend the Rev. Dr. Taylor, which, as Taylor told me, expressed grief in the strongest manner he had ever read; so that it is much to be regretted it has not been preserved."

I cannot help expressing a wish, that Mr. Boswell's sentiments respecting the fate of this letter had been more generally known, as I have no doubt but that he would have received copies of it from various hands. But though it has hitherto eluded his researches, and the discovery of its existence will be made too late to obtain a place in the present edition of its author's life, that distinction, perhaps, may be conferred upon it hereafter in the next. Till it shall be wanting for that, or some other literary purposes, you will oblige me by assigning to it a place in the archives of the Gentleman's Magazine.

Yours, &c.

WILL FAULKNER.

To the Rev. Dr. Taylor.

March 17, 1752, O. S.

DEAR SIR, NOTWITHSTANDING the warnings of philosophers, and the daily examples of losses and misfortunes which life forces upon us, such is the absorption of our thoughts in the business of the present day-such the resignation of our reason to empty hopes of future felicity;-or such our unwillingness to foresee what we dread, that every calamity comes suddenly upon us, and not only presses us as a burthen, but crushes as a blow.

There are evils which happen out of the common course of nature, against which it is no reproach not to be provided. A Bash of lightning intercepts the traveller in his way. The concussion of an earthquake heaps the ruin of cities upon their inhabitants. But other miseries time brings,

though silently, yet visibly forward, by its own lapse, which yet approach unseen, because we turn our eyes away; and seize us unresisted, because we could not arm ourselves against them, but by setting them before us.

That it is in vain to shrink from what cannot be avoided, and to hide that from ourselves which must sometimes be found, is a truth which we all know, but which all neglect, and perhaps none more than the speculative reasoner, whose thoughts are always from home, whose eye wanders over life, whose fancy dances after meteors of happiness kindled by itself, and who examines every thing rather than his own

state.

Nothing is more evident than that the decays of age must terminate in death. Yet there is no man (says Tully) who does not believe that he may yet live another year; and there is none who does not, upon the same principle, hope another year for his parent or his friend; but the fallacy will be in time detected; the last year, the last day, will come; it has come, and is past.-"The life which made my own life pleasant is at an end, and the gates of death are shut upon my prospects."

The loss of a friend on whom the heart was fixed, to whom every wish and endeavour tended, is a state of desolation in which the mind looks abroad impatient of itself, and finds nothing but emptiness and horror. The blameless life-the artless tenderness-the pious simplicity-the modest resignation-the patient sickness, and the quiet death, are remembered only to add value to the loss to aggravate regret for what cannot be amended-to deepen sorrow for what cannot be recalled.

These are the calamities by which providence gradually disengages us from the love of life. Other evils fortitude may repel, or hope may mitigate; but irreparable privation leaves nothing to exercise resolution, or flatter expectation. The dead cannot return, and nothing is left us here but languishment and grief.

Yet such is the course of nature, that whoever lives long must outlive those whom he loves and honours. Such is the condition of our present existence, that life must one time lose its associations, and every inhabitant of the earth must walk downward to the grave alone and unregarded, without any partner of his joy or grief, without any interested witness of his misfortunes or success. Misfortunes indeed be may yet feel, for where is the bottom of the misery of man! But what is success to him who has none to enjoy it?

Happiness is not found in self-contemplation;-it is perceived only when it is reflected from another.

We know little of the state of departed souls, because such knowledge is not necessary to a good life. Reason deserts us at the brink of the grave, and gives no farther inteiligence. Revelation is not wholly silent. "There is joy in the angels of heaven over a sinner that repenteth." And surely this joy is not incommunicable to souls disentangled from the body, and made like angels.

Let the hope, therefore, dictate what revelation does not confute that the union of souls may still remain; and that we, who are struggling with sin, sorrow, and infirmities, may have our part in the attention and kindness of those who have finished their course, and are now receiving their reward.

These are the great occasions which force the mind to take refuge in religion. When we have no help in ourselves, what can remain but that we look up to a higher and greater power? and to what hope may we not raise our eyes and hearts, when we consider that the greatest power is the best?

Surely there is no man who, thus afflicted, does not seek succour in the Gospel, which has brought life and immortality to light! The precepts of Epicurus, which teach us to endure what the laws of the universe make necessary, may silence but not content us. The dictates of Zeno, who commands us to look with indifference on abstract things, may dispose us to conceal our sorrow, but cannot assuage it. Real alleviation of the loss of friends, and rational tranquillity in the prospect of our own dissolution, can be received only from the promise of him in whose hands are life and death, and from the assurances of another and better state, in which all tears will be wiped from our eyes, and the whole soul shall be filled with joy.Philosophy may infuse stubbornness, but religion only can give patience.

1794, Feb.

SAM. JOHNSON.

LXXXII. Dr. Benjamin Franklin to the Earl of Buchan.

MR. URBAN,

Dryburgh Abbey, July 12.

THE very long intermission of my correspondence with you, has been owing to my particular engagements in