ever, and lay as the clod of the valley before me. Her body I deposited in the next church-yard, and

Que la terre te soit legere, ô épouse digne de retourner à la vie, et de recouvrer un jour que tu a perdu !

The legend on the monument of Homonœa, translated into English.

Atimetus.

If it was allowed to lay down one's life for another, and possible by such means, to save what we loved from the grave, whatever length of days was allotted me, I would with pleasure offer up my life, to get my Homonoa from the tomb; but as this cannot be done, what is in my power I will do, fly from the light of heaven, and follow you to the realms of lasting night.

Homonca.

My dearest Atimetus, cease to torment your unhappy mind, nor let grief thus feed on your youth, and make life bitterness itself. I am gone in the way appointed for all the mortal race all must be numbered with the dead. And since fate is inexorable, and tears are in vain, weep not for me, once more I conjure you. But may you be ever happy, may Providence preserve you, and add to your life those years which have been taken from mine.

The person who erected the monument to the memory of

Homonca.

Stop, traveller, for a few minutes, and ponder on these lines.

immediately after, rode as fast as I could to London, to lose thought in dissipation, and resign the better to the decree. For some days I lived at the inn I set up at, but as soon as I could, went into a lodging, and it happened to be at the house of the

Here lies Homonoa, whom Atimitus preferred to the greatest and most illustrious women of his time. She had the form of Venus, the charms of the graces; and an understanding and sensibility, which demonstrated that wisdom had given to an angel's form, a mind more lovely. Before she was twenty, she was dissolved, And as she had practised righteousness, by carrying it well to those about her, and to all that were specially related, she parted with them, as she had lived with them, in justice and charity, in modesty and submission, in thankfulness and peace. Filled with divine thoughts, inured to contemplate the perfections of God, and to acknowledge his providence in all events, she died with the humblest resignation to the divine will, and was only troubled that she left her husband a mourner. Excellent Homonoa.

May the earth lie light upon thee, and in the morning of the resurrection, may you awake again to life, and rise to that immortality and glory, which God, the righteous Judge, will give to true worth and dignity; as rewards to a life adorned with all virtues and excellencies, the dikaiomata, that is, the righteous acts of the Saints.

"

famous EDMUND CURLL the bookseller; a man well known in Pope's Dunciad, and his Letters to his Friends, on account of CURLL's frauds in purchasing and printing stolen copies of Pope's Works. It is in relation to these tricks, that Pope mentions CURLL in his Dunciad and Letters. A succinct history of him I shall here give: but had I complied with his requests, it would have been a long relation, to the advantage and glory of this extraordinary man: for he came one morning into my closet, with an apron full of papers; being letters, memorandums, parodies, and notes, written by or concerning himself; and requested I would, on a good consideration, write his life, to his profit and honour, and make it a five shilling book. That I said was not then in my power to do; but I would, one time or other, give the public a true account of him, and make it conclude I hoped to the glory of his character. Here it is.

EDMUND CURLL was in person very tall and thin, an ungainly, awkward, white-faced man. His eyes were a light-grey, large, projecting, goggle, and pur-blind. He was splay-footed, and bakerkneed.

He had a good natural understanding, and was well acquainted with more than the title pages of books. He talked well on some subjects. He was

not an infidel as Mrs. Rowe misrepresents him in one of her letters to lady Hartford, afterwards Dutchess of Somerset. He told me, it was quite evident to him, that the scriptures of the Old and New Testament contained a real revelation. There is for it a rational, a natural, a traditionary, and a supernatural testimony; which rendered it quite certain to him. He said, he no more doubted the truth of the Christian religion, than he did the existence of an independent supreme Creator; but he did not believe the expositions given by the divines. So far CURLL was right enough. His fault was, that with such a belief, he took no pains with his heart. Trusting entirely to the merits of the Saviour, like too may other mistaken Christians, he had no notion of religion as an invisible thing within us, called the kingdom of God: he did not even consider it as a good outside thing, that recommends a man to his fellow-creatures. He was a debauchee to the last degree, and so injurious to society, that by filling his translations with wretched notes, forged letters, and bad pictures, he raised the price of a four shilling book to ten. Thus, in particular, he managed Burnet's Archeology: and when I told him he was very culpable in this, and other articles he sold, his answer was, What would I have him do? He was a bookseller. His translators in pay, lay

three in a bed, at the Pewter-Platter Inn in Holborn, and he and they were for ever at work, to deceive the Public. He likewise printed the lewdest things. He lost his ears for The Nun in her Smock, and another thing. As to drink, he was too fond of money, to spend any in making himself happy that way; but at another's expence, he would drink every day till he was quite blind, and as incapable of self-motion as a block. This was EDMUND CURLL, but he died at last, as great a penitent, as ever expired. I think in 1748, I mention this to his glory.

As CURLL knew the world well, and was acquainted with several extraordinary characters, he was of great use to me at my first coming to town, as I knew nobody, nor any place. He gave me the true characters of many I saw, told me whom I should avoid, and with whom I might be free. He conducted me to the play-houses, and gave me a judicious account of every actor. He understood those things well. No man could talk better on theatrical subjects. He took me likewise to Sadler's Wells, to the night-cellars, and to TOM KING'S, the famous night-house in Covent Garden. As he was very knowing, and well-known at such places, he soon made me as wise as himself in these branches of learning; and, in short, in the space of a