right to a place in fome future edition of Mr. Walpole's very inftructive and entertaining work. To her Ladyship's four epitaphs is fubjoined a fifth by Queen Elizabeth. It is found likewife in the compilation already mentioned. A modern reader will feel himself little interefted by the mythological lamentations of the Countess or the Queen. Lady Oxford, perhaps, only aimed at the character of a poeteis, becaufe her mother had been attached to li terature, and poetry was the favourite amufement of her husband. She died at Queen Elizabeth's court at Greenwich, June 6, 1588, and on the 25th was pompously interred in WestminsterAbbey.Her Majefty's epitaph. fhould feem to have been an effufion of private regard; but as I am no better acquainted with the Princefs of Efpinoye, than with Mafter Southern, I fhall be much obliged to any of your antiquarian correfpondents who will furnish me with information relative to either, or both, of thefe perfonages, who otherwife must be reigned to an almoft hopeless obfcurity. I am, Sir, your's, &c. Foure Epytaphes, made by the Countes of Oxenford, after the death of her young fonne, the Lord Bulbecke, &c. HAD with moorning the Gods left their willes undon, They had not fo foone herited fuch a foule: Or if the mouth tyme did not glotton up all, Nor I, nor the world, were depriv'd of my fonne, Whose breft Venus, with a face dolefull and milde, Dooth wathe with golden teares, inveying the skies; And when the water of the Goddeffes eves Makes almost alive the marble of my childe, One byds her leave ftyll her dollor fo extreme, Telling her it is not her young fonne Papheme: To which thee makes aunfwer with a voice inflamed, (Feeling therewith her venime to be more bitter) As I was of Cupid, even fo of it mother; And a woman's laft chylde is the most beloved. * "Gold, the best of all mettelies; nightingale, the sweetest of all byrdes; and roles, the Fairest of all flowers." + She was married at the age of fifteen. The date of the year of her marriage would determine that of her vertes. Nor Nor for Atis the mother of Prophetesses, As for the death of Bulbecke the Gods have cares. At the brute of it the Aphroditan Queene And to die with him, mortall she would have The Charits for it breake their peruqs of The Mafes, and the Nymphes of the caves, All the Gods under Olympus are constraint On Laches, Clothon, and Atropes to plaine; And yet beautie for it doth make no complaint, For it liv'd with him, and died with him againe. With a painefull courfe to toother hemisphere, And even fo for Pinoy that fayre vertues (Although Jupiter have in this orizon Others of the FOWRE LAST LYNES of Morns, dolour, and greefe, accompany our other that he made alfo. II. MY fonne is gone, and with it death end my forrow: 32. But death makes mee aunfwere, Ma- *3. My force is but on bodies of blood body. amore, Flie about the tomb where fhe lyes all in dolore, SIMILAR PASSAGES in ANCIENT and MODERN AUTHORS. FEW breafts are fo pure, or poffefs fuch an abfolute felf-dominion, but that fome one paffion will, by degrees, and by frequent indulgence, gain an arcendency over the others, and work them into a state of fuch abject flavery, as to render then entirely fubfervient to its own authority.-Microcosm, 6th paper. As where's the palace whereinto foul things pure, But fome uncleanly apprehenfions Keep leets and lawdings, and in feffions fit Othello, A&t III. Scene 3d. κα Iña; μe @ewτα σv iπToo xai öxiofi, Πεζὺς δ' ἐξόπιθεν σῆσεν πολέας τε καὶ ἐσθλος, ΕρκΘ. ἔμεν πολέμοιο· κακὺς δ ̓ ἐς μέσσων Ὄφρα καὶ ἐκ ἐθέλων τις ἀναΓκαίη πολεμίζη. Και γαρ εν τω πολέμω τους τε πρώτους αρισους δεν ταΐζειν, και τους τελευταιους, εν δε μέσω τους χειρισους να απομεναυίων αγωνίαν, ὑπὸ δε των ωθωνίαι. Xenophon's Memorabilia. The richest juice poured in a tainted jar, That the faculties of the understand- Cato, A& I. I always admired the two words regular confufion, and deemed them the original This maxim has clearly been exemplified by this nation's conduct to three of the English poets, Shakespeare, Milton, and Butler. What ftate, what fex, what excellence of E'er found an armour against calumny? Whole edge is fharper than the sword of Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whofe breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie Maids, Matrons, nay the fecrets of the grave Cymbeline, A& III. Scene 4th, The best form of government therefore is that in which the intereft of individuals is moft intimately blended with the public good.-Moore's Travels thro' France, vol. i. 160. reafonable, which is moft conformable to That form of government is the most the equality that we find in human nature. Spectator, 287th paper. PHILODRAMATICU§. To the EDITOR of the EUROPEAN MAGAZINE. What is the diftrefs of Monimia to that of Defderona? what the anguish of Caftalio to the fleepless bleeding jealousy of Othello? And in the next place, if regard be had to the maftery of the paffions, in this refpect, perhaps Othello maintains an unrivalled fuperiority. SIR, A Correfpondent in your Magazine of laft month, who figns himself T. in his reflections on the English drama, has thefe remarkable words.--Speaking of the poets who are moft fuppofed to have affected the pafiions, he fays, "But I place Virgil, Shakespeare, Racine, and all the poets that ever exifted, below Otway in this one attribute--the maitery of the paffions;" and he afterwards goes on to alert in the fame confident ftrain," the Orphan is not inferior to any production of human genius opinions as far removed from the ideas of truth and juftice, as any which have been hazarded fince the origin of criticifin. For, in the Erft place, will any one be bold enough to afrt, that the Orphan of Otway bears, in point of compojition, even a comparifn with the Othello of Shakespeare? May 20, 1788. Liberal inveftigation is, Sir, I trust, ufeful, and of course admisible.--Upon this fuppofition I request the favour of you to infert this my letter in your next Magazine; concluding with affuring you, that if I be called upon to defend the objections here advanced-in confideration of their reafonableness, I fhall not be be hind-hand, I am, Sir, For For the EUROPEAN MAGAZINE. On SIGNORA PIOZZI's PUBLICATION of Dr. JOHNSON's LETTERS. STRICTURE THE SECOND. By JOSEPH BARETTI. MY pretty Hefter Lynch Piozzi, in the paffage already quoted, obferves with her customary acuteness, that the world is not guilty of much general harshness, nor inclined to increafe pain, which they do not perceive to be deferved. The obvious truth of this remark, nobody, I believe, will be fo perverse as to deny or controvert. I fhould however be obliged to the pretty Signora, if the would but tell us how the applies it to her own cafe; as it is usually taken for granted, that the world cannot perceive what is concealed, nor fhew harthness or bestow pity without a determinate object. To infer, as the would have us do, that her remark is apposite, she ought first to let that same world into the cause of what The terms her pain, that they might decide whether it was deferved, or not. But of that cause we have not the leaft glimmer throughout her publication; and without fuch a previous statement, is it not abfurd in her to flatter herself, that the world at large fided with her against a man who paid no manner of regard to that pain, and endeavoured to increase it? The cunning he has artfully fuppreffed that letter of her's to Dr. Johnson, which he answered on the 15th of March 1776 from Litchfield; and the want of that link to her chain spreads fuch an obfcurity over her complaint against me, that a man ought to be a very skilful conjurer to find out the motive of it, and decide whether her lamentation is well or ill grounded. This, however, I will tell her, that the few who know le deffous des cartes, will never fide with her in that particular, but will approve of my indignation in the affair of the tin-pills; and let her whine, and moan, and cant as dolorously as the pleafes. To clear me of her wicked charge, it is more than fufficient, as I have already said, that neither Dr. Johnfon, nor Mr. Thrale, nor any body elfe, thought it worth their attention, nor ever gave me the leaft information relative to her prepofterous bewailings; speaking always on the fuppofition, that her iniquitous letter was really written at Bath on the 3d of March 1776; which is what I cannot but doubt, know. ing her malice to me so well as I know. VOL. XIII. Let us now drop this difcuffion, which to the generality will appear fomething myfterious, and turn to another part of her publication, where no very honourable mention is made of her humble fer vant. In a letter to her, dated Afhbourne, July 15, 1775, Dr. Johnfon has written the following words: I wish, for my part, that be Mr. Thrale) may return foon, and rescue the fair captives from the tyranny of Baretti. Poor Baretti! Do not quarrel with him. To neglect him a little will be fuficient. He means only to be frank, and manly, and independent, and perhaps, as you fay, a little wife. To be frank, he thinks, is to be cynical, and to be independent to be rude. Forgive him, dearefi Lady, the rather because of his misbehaviour I am afraid he learned part of me. I hope to fet him bereafter a better example. It appears plain from these words, that the veracious Hefter Lynch had informed the Doctor of my having tyrannically treated her daughters under her own nose; of my having made captives of them in her own houfe; and of my having been cynical and rude to her into the bargain. How I could perform all these feats without meeting any oppofition from a creature fo imperious as herfelf, is what nobody living will ever be able to comprehend; as the fubtle Signora has artfully again fuppreffed that letter of her's, wherein thefe heavy charges were made fo very clear to the Doctor, as to induce him to give her the good advice contained in the above paragraph. But why has the fuppreffed her own letter? Does this not look as if he made fure, that I might take her up as foon as her collection was published, and convict her, that her account of me to the credulous Doctor was little better than a string of paltry lies of her own invention? And indeed, how could I play the tyrant where I had no manner of dominion? How could I keep her daughters in captivity where there was no jail? And how could I be rude and cynical to a woman of boldness, who, without going one inch from her right, had but to defire me to quit her houfe, to be inftantly obeyed? These are unanswerable objections o her affertions. Eee fhould I should think: nevertheless, her fup preffion of her own letter, takes from me all power of confuting with due pofitiveness her abfurd accufations; and I cannot plead any other thing against them, but the impoffibility of their being founded in truth. With fafety, however, can I appeal to her daughters themselves, and challenge them to bear witness to my fond affection to them all, as I never loved children fo much as I did them; which I even hope they will long remember with fome fmall degree of gratitude. The tyrant over them, and they know it, was not Baretti, but their mother herself, who brought them up with fuch feverity of difcipline, as not to fuffer them even to fpeak in her prefence, but when abfolutely commanded. To give fome faint idea of ber rare method of education, the fhorteft way will be to tell a fact or two, that I make aimoft fure the will not be frontlefs enough to deny, if she is not quite loft to all fenfe of fhame; though any reliance on her fenfe of fhame be but a precarious tenure, confidering how long the has been habituated in the foul practice of boldly oppofing her falfhoods to any truth, be it ever fo giaring and confpicuous. The house at Streatham, where we then were, was partly furrounded by a narrow leafure-ground, beyond which there was ipacious grafs field. The ground was feparated from the field by what they term a Ha-ha! over which food a kind of draw-bridge, that was easily raised or lowered. The young ladies were ftrictly forbidden by their Mamma to lower the draw-bridge, and go over into the field. It happened one afternoon, that I invited them to walk into that field with me, as I was then quite ignorant of the formidable prohibition. They had not been there a quarter of an hour tumbling each other in the grafs with the most exquifite delight, when lo! the dreadful Mamma came out of the cufe, and fpy'd them at that sport. Such a terrifick fight as that of their tumbles, kindled her rage at once, and made ber put her lips to an ivory whiftle, that the conttantly carried in her pocket for the purpose of calling them to her when at any distance, or out of fight. At the alarming found of the whittle, Ike that of the horn in romance, the frighted girls ran inftantly to her with no finall trepidation and hurry; and fhe began to form at them with fuch obstrepereufnefs, that I, unable to guefs at the motive of it, made what halte I could to their affilt ance: but no fooner had I repaffed the bridge, than fhe was at me with great fury, and asked if I was not ashamed of myself for having taken them into the field. Afhamed, Madam! And why should I be ashamed? Aye, faid fhe, don't you fee that there is a pond in that field? Well, Madam; and what of the pond? Strange, faid fhe, that you are not fenfible of the danger into which you led them! Had they gone near it while you were poring on your book, could they not have drowned themselves? What do children know, the continued, of the difference between land and water? They might very well have run themselves into the pond, taking it to be as folid as the field, and miferably perifhed in it! This foolish fpeech made me presently aware that the woman was fo grofsly ig norant, as to think that children knew nothing of the difference between folids and fluids; and without lofing my time to argue with her about her wretched notions of children's brains, I stepped into the houfe, called Sophy, who was then the youngest of them, and bringing her back to her in my hand, "Sophy," faid I, “Mamma has been prevailed upon to pardon your going into the field with me, and even permits you to go there again, and take a walk across the pond, if you have a mind to it." "A walk cross the pond!" anfwered the fweet innocent; no, indeed: I will rather be whipped than go crofs the pond." "But why," said I, “will you not go ?" "Because," faid the," I fhould be drowned like a rat if I did; and, be fure, whipping is not fo bad as drowning!". I leave the reader to conceive the fpight of my profound philofophefs, on being thus fuddenly convinced of her moft profound ignorance about children's notions of things. She frowned, the stamped, and turned her back in a pet, as he would always do when glaringly convicted of ignorance; but I was glad that I had faved the poor Things the whipping which they would have had that night as foon as in bed, making fure that there was no further danger of it, now that she had rectified her notion of their having pretty diftinct ideas about folids and fluids. Not long after her forced change of opinion with regard to children's intel lects, as fhe and I had one day done dinner by ourselves, I happened to mention the eagerness of young folks after all kinds of fruit. "It is not the taste of fruit," faid fhe with her ufual acutenes of obfervation," but the pretty appear ance |