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THE

HISTORY

OF

Mrs. MARINDA BENLO W.

With NO TE S.

AND

Some Occafional REMARKS by the Way.

In TWO LETTERS

то

HUGOLIN JEW KS, Efq;

The characters of the more confiderable perfonages in moral hiftory, do not only demonftrate the poffibility of attaining to all the perfections attainable by men; but powerfully upbraid our indolence, and fo roufe our emulation. They fet to our view the strength, the force, the comprehensiveness into which our judgment, and other intellectual faculties may be improved, and exhibit the most affecting inftances of what is yet a higher qualification than the finest imagination, the moft tenacious memory, or the best replenished understanding, that abfolute command of our paffions, and that god-like benignity of foul, which conftitute true virtue, and recommend us to the favor and acceptance of a wife and holy God. TURNBULL.

I am always for the builders who bring fome addition to our knowledge, or at least some new thing to our thoughts. The finders of faults, the confuters and pullers down, do not only erect a barren and useless triumph upon human ignorance, but advance us nothing in the acquifition of truth.

LOCKE to MOLYNEAUX.

THE

HISTORY

QF

Mrs. BEN LOW.

Y

OUR letter, dear Jewks, I had the pleasure of receiving; and that you fhould not fufpect me of neglecting you, I postpone my journey to Chadfon, to anfwer your questions. To the best of my Power, I will give you a monument of my friendship, though at prefent my condition is fuch, that I cannot fubtract too much from the organs of the intellect, to give to those of motion. You fhall have all I know, relating to the lady you inquire after. You fhall have, by the way, a few occafional obfervations.

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A defcrip

tion of Ha

tains of

near the

Scotland.

In the year 1739, I travelled many hunli-farm, in dred miles to vifit antient monuiments, and the moun- difcover curious things; and as I wandered, Northum to this purpose, among the vaft hills of Northumberland, fortune conducted me one borders of evening, in the month of June, when I knew not where to reft, to the sweetest retirement my eyes have ever beheld. This is Hali-farm. It is a beautiful vale, furrounded with rocks, foreft, and water. I found at the upper end of it the prettieft thatched house in the world, and a garden of the most artful confufion I had ever feen. The little manfion was covered on every fide with the fineft, flowery greens. The ftreams, all round, were murmuring and falling a thoufand ways. All the kinds of finging birds were here collected, and in high harmony on the fprays. The ruins of an abby enhanse the beauties of this place: they appear at the distance of four hundred yards from the house and as fome great trees are now grown up among the remains, and a river winds between the broken walls, the view is folemn -the picture fine (A).

A defcription of

Mifs Bruce.

When I came up to the houfe, the first figure I faw was the lady whofe ftory I am going to relate. She had the charms of an angel, but her drefs quite plane, and clean, like a country maid. Her perfon appeared

faultlefs,

faultlefs, and of the middle fize; between the disagreeable extremes: Her face a sweet oval, and her complexion the brunette of the bright rich kind: Her mouth, like a rofebud, that is just beginning to blow, and a fugitive dimple, by fits, would lighten, and disappear: The finest paffions were always paffing in her face; and in her long, even, chefnut eyes, there was a fluid fire, fufficient for half a dozen pair:

She had a volume of Shakespear in her hand, as I came foftly towards her, having left my horse at a distance with my fervant, and her attention was fo much engaged with the extremely poetical and fine lines which Titania fpeaks in the third act of the Midfummer night's dream (a), that she did not B 2 fee

(a) Be kind and courteous to this gentleman,
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes,
Feed him with apricocks, and dewberrys,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberrys;
The honey bags fteal from the humble bees;
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fiery glow-worms eyes;
To have my love to bed, and to arife,
And pluck the wings from painted butterflyes,
To fan the moon-beams from his fleeping eyes.
Nod to him elves, and do him courtefies.

As the beautys of thought are joyned with thofe of expreffion, in thefe lines, one would think it impoffible that any thing that has but the left humanity, fhould be dull enough not to relifh, not to be moved, nay charmed

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