horfes and Mofes and his master: and for some hours were right glad to be fo lodged. But at last, the ftorm and rain, were quite over, we saw the fair rifing moon hang up her ready lamp, and with mild luftre drive back the hovering fhades. Out then I came from the cavern, and as I walked for a while on the banks of the fine lake, I faw a handfome little boat with two oars, in a creek, and concluded yery justly that there must be fome habitation not far from one fide or other of the water. Into the boat therefore we went, having fecured our horfes, and began to row round, the better to discover. Two hours we were at it as hard as we could labour, and then came to the bottom of a garden, which had a flight of stairs leading up to it. Thefe I afcended. I walked on, and at the farther end of the fine improved fpot, came to a manfion. I immediately knocked at a door, fent in my story to the lady of the house, as there was no master, and in a few minutes was fhewn into a parlour. I continued alone about a quarter of an hour, and then entered a lady who ftruck me into amazement. She was a beauty of whom I had been paffionately fond, when fhe was fourteen, and I fixteen years of age. I saw her first in a French family of diftinction, where my father had lodged me for the fame reason that her parents placed her there,

that

that is, for the fake of the purity of the French tongue; and as he had a rational generofity of heart, and an understanding that was surprisingly luminous for her years; could conftrue an ode of Horace in a manner the most delightful, and read a chapter in the Greek Teftament with great ease every morning, the foon became my heart's fond idol. She appeared in my eyes as fomething more than mortal. I thought her a divinity. Books furnished us with an occafion for being often together, and we fanfyed the time was happily spent. But at once the difappeared. As he had a vaft fortune, and there was a fufpicion of an amour, fhe was fnatched away in a moment, and for twenty years from the afternoon the vanished, I could not fee her, or hear of her: Whether living or dead, I knew not, till the night I am fpeaking of, that I faw come into the room the lovely Julia Defborough transformed into Mrs. Mort. Our mutual furprize was vastly great. We could not fpeak for fome time. We knew each other as well as if it had been but an hour ago we parted, fo ftrong was the impreffion made. She was still divinely fair: but I wondered he could remember me fo well, as time and many a fhaking rub had altered me very greatly for the worfe. See how ftrangely things are brought about. Mifs Defborough was re

moved all the way to Italy-kept many years abroad, that he might never fee me more, and in the character of Mrs. Mort, by accident, I found her in a folitude, in the fame country I lived in, and still my friend.

This lady told me, fhe had buryed an admirable husband a few years ago, and as the she never had a liking to the world, the devoted her time to books, her old favourites; and the education of a daughter, and country bufinefs, and the falvation of her foul. Mifs Mort and the lived like two friends. They read and spun fome hours of their time every day away. They had a few agreeable neighbours, and from the lake, and cultivation of their gardens, derived a variety of fucceffive pleasures. They had no relifh for the tumultuous hours of the town; but in the charms of letters and religion, the philosophy of flowers, the converfe of their neighbours, a linnen manufactury, and their rural fituation, were as happy as their wishes could rise to in this hemifphere. All this to me was like a vifion. I wondered. I admired. Is this Mifs Desborough with whom I was wont to pass so many afternoons, in reading Milton to her, or Telemaque, or the L'avaré de Moliere? What a fleeting scene is life! But a little while, and we go on to another world. Fortunat are they who are fit for the remove: who have a clear conception of the precari

oufnefs

oufnefs and vanity of all human things, and by virtue and piety fo ftrive to act what is fairest and most laudable, and fo pafs becomingly through this life, that they may in the next obtain the bleffed and immortal abodes, prepared for thofe who can give up their account with joy.

I have told you this little story, Madam, not only as a fpecimen of the women whofe Memoirs I intend to lay before you; for Mrs. Mort's life at large you will have among the reft; but because it has in many particulars a near resemblance of yours. Both widows, both religious, both learned, good and wife, and an honor to human kind. In this likewife alike, that a linen manufacture is one of the useful amufements of your life, and I take this way of mentioning the thing to your glory to the world.

I remember, Madam, when laft I had the honor of feeing you, in the year fifty two, I found you in an open bower of woodbines and roses, by the fide of a falling ftream fitting at the pretty Scotch fpinning-wheel, and furrounded with half a dozen, clean handfome country girls, at the fame useful and ingenious labor, the production of amazingly fine thread. It was as beautiful a picture of industry as the eye of man can fee. It is a happy addition to your fine character; and fo long as this Dedication lafts, it shall be known

known in how good a manner Mrs. Monkhoufe of Paterdale was wont to pafs fome hours of her every day, and in the center of the wildeft mountains in the universe, made art pro ductive of focial happyness: And this while poffeffed of external perfections that few can equal and mistress of fortunes, that could produce the grandeft entries in the capital. This is beauty. To fupport by such a conduct, and act this part, to bless a numerous, miferable poor, with the neceffa rys and comforts of life, is glorious indeed. What miferable things are the fenfeless routs and equipage of the town, the pomp of drefs and the vanity of play, the mask, the houses, and expenfive contrivances, to kill time, and banish thought, compared to a mind and eftate employed in giving bread to the hungry, cloaths to the naked, and understanding to the ignorant! This is excellence. It were wrong in me to conceal the author of it, tho her uncommon humility and modefty will not approve, I am fure, my making her known.

But as to the Memoirs; the hiftory of illuftrious women is not the only thing you are to expect in this performance. You will find a thousand inquirys into other fubjects; relations of antiquities, curiofities, and the works of nature; various difquifitions; philofophical obfervations; and accounts of

men