sonnet by Michael Drayton, and two commendatory poems by John Weever, the latter of which we shall transcribe: "To Duke Humphrey's attendants. "Ye dayly wayters on Duke Humphreys table, And hourly walkers by D. Humphreys shrine, If that for meagre famine yee be able Right to peruse a wel-pen'd wittye line, Wait-walk no more, on his table-by his shrineBut with Duke Humphrey's Legend (Gentles) dine." After the fashion of hodiernal bookmaking, one might be expected to give an historical account of the life of Duke Humphrey, and the intrigues of the Bishop of Winchester; but our purpose will be answered when we have given a few passages, as examples of Middleton's poetical talents-" and then an end." "O were my pen but able to set downe Great Glocester's vertues, as indeed they were, Look as the starres, when as the world's great light Drawing the duskie curtains of the night, Wherein the earth lay sadly mantelled, Pluck in their pale heads as ashamed, and sorry, So did the world, wherein this worthy was, Admire the more than common gifts he had, Wondring how such a work should come to passe; And with abundant melancholy, sad, VOL. 111. Fret Fret out their lives in envy and despair; And had he not been royal in his birth, Yet had his matchlesse learning and his wit "If pity, quoth he, dwell in Princes hearts, A mighty building, and all comes to thrall; The base whereon my aged frame hath stood, Where Where would I were in peace; for here is notte, His life was blest before his latest day." "Like to a morue, whose evening shuts in clouds,, Making a dark end of a glorious day, Fell this good Duke. Whose memory, when stones, and tombs of brass, Thy name, like to the still-enduring sunne, Shall outlive all, and be the world's great wonder; Thy light succeed their lights; and as now we O. G. ART. XVI. Original Letters of Mrs. Montagu. [CONTINUED FROM P. 149.] Mrs. Montagu to Mrs. Robinson, &c. at Naples Hill Street, 26 Feb. 1752. ****. "I long most impatiently to hear of your safe recovery, and the health of the little one, who is to repay you for all the trouble his first stage of life will give you. Patience and good humour, which you possess in a high degree, greatly mitigate all sufferings. Those, who have most self-love, by a strange blindness to their intérest, have usually the least of that noble panacea, patience; which only can heal all the wounds, the rubs, and the scratches one receives in this rough world. I believe you found it an excellent fellow-traveller through Spain: it makes a smooth road, where the pick-axe has never levelled the inequalities, and softens the mattress and pillow. I am under some anxiety, lest our rupture with Spain should occasion you any inconvenience. "I am so poor a politician, that, if I durst write on the subject, I should be able to give you but a lame account of the situation of affairs here. In the House of Commons, every boy who can articulate, is a speaker, to the great dispatch of business, and solidity of councils. They sit late every night, as every young gentleman, who has a handsome person, a fine coat, a well-shaped leg, or a clear voice, is to exhibit these advantages. "To this kind of beau-oratory,, and tea-table talk, the ladies, as is reasonable, resorted very constantly. At first they attended in such numbers as to fill the body of the house, on great political questions. Having all their lives been aiming at conquests, committing murders, and enslaving mankind, they were for most violent and bloody measures: desirous of a war with Spain and France, fond of battles on the Continent, and delighted with the prospect of victories in the East and West Indies. They wished to see the chariot of their favourite minister drawn, like that of the great Sesostris, by six captive kings! "Much glory might have accrued to Great Britain from this martial spirit in the ladies: but, whether by private contrivance, or that of a party who are inclined to pacific measures, I do not know, a ghost started up in a dirty obscure alley in the city, and diverted the attention of the female politicians, from the glory of their country, to an inquiry, why Miss Fanny who died of the small pox two years ago, and suffered herself to be buried, does now appear in the shape of the sound of a hammer, and rap and scratch at the head of Miss Parsons's bed, the daughter of a parishclerk? "As I suppose you read the newspapers, you will see mention of the Ghost; but without you was here upon the spot, you could never conceive that the most bungling performance of the silliest imposture could take up the attention, and conversation, of all the fine world. And as the ways of the beau-monde are always in contradiction to the gospel, they are determined to shew, that, though they do not believe in Moses and the prophets, they would believe if one were to come from the dead, though it was only to play tricks like a rat behind a wainscot! You must not indeed regret being absent, while this farce is going on. There will be an Elizabeth Canning, or a Man in a Bottle, or some other folly, for the amusement of this frivolous generation, at all times! "But you have some reason to regret having missed the coronation, perhaps the finest spectacle in the world. As all old customs are kept up in this ceremony, there is a mixture of chivalry and popery, and |