I honour you, Eliza, for keeping secret some things, which, if explained, had been a panegyrick on yourself. There is a dignity in venerable affliction which will not allow it to appeal to the world for pity or redress. Well have you supported that character, m my amiable, philosophick friend! and indeed, I begin to think you have as many Virtues as my uncle Toby's widow I don't mean to insinuate, hussey, th that my opinion is no better founded than his was of Mrs. Wadman; nor do I conceive it pose sible for any 16 Trim to convince me it is equally fals lacious; I am sure, while I have my reason, it is not. Talking of widows=pray, Eliza, if ever you are such, do not think of giving yourself to some wealthy Nabob; because I design to marry you myself My wife cannot live long = she has sold all the provinces in France already; and I know not the woman I should like so well for her substitute as yourself= "Tis is true, I am ninety-five in constitution, and you but twenty-five; rather too great a disparity this! but what I want in youth, I will make up in wit and good hne mour. Nor Swift so loved his Stella, Scarron his Maintenon, or Waller his Sacharissa, as I will love and sing thee, my wife elect! All those names, emis nent as they were, shall give place to thine, Eliza. Tell me in answer to this, that you approve and hos nour the proposal; and that you would, like the Spectator's mistress, have more joy in putting on an old man's slipper, than in associating with the gay, the voluptuous and the young-Adieu, my Sim plicia!

13005

Yours, TRISTRAM.

LETTER X.

MY DEAR ELIZA,

:

IHA HAVE been within the verge of the gates of death: I was ill the last time I wrote to you, and apprehensive of what would be the consequence - My fears were but too well founded; for in ten minutes after I dispatched my letter, this poor, fine spun frame of Yorick's gave way, and I broke a vessel in my breast, and could not stop the loss of blood till four this morning I have filled all thy India handker chiefs with it it came, I think, from my heart. I fell asleep, thro' weakness. At six awoke, with the bosom of my shirt steeped in tears I dreamed I was sitting under the canopy of indolence, and that thou camest into the room with a shawl in thy hand, and told me:.« My spirit had flown to thee in the downs, with tidings of my fate; and that you were come to administer what consolation filial affection could bes 10, and to receive my parting breath and blessing. With that, you folded the shawl about my waist, and, kneeling, supplicated my attention=1 awoke; but in what a frame, () my God!« But thou wilt number my te tears, and put them all into thy bottle » Dear girl, I see thee: thou art for ever present to my fancy, embracing my feeble knees, and raising thy fine eyes to bid me be of comfort: and when I talk to Lydia, the words of Esau, as uttered by thee, perpetually ring in my ears. =« Bless me even also, my father- Blessing attend thee, thou child of my

heart!=

My bleeding is quite stopped, and I feel the prins ciple of life strong within me; so be not alarmed,

a

Eliza: I know I shall do well. I have eat eat my break fast with hunger; and I write to thee with a pleasure arising from that prophetick impression in my imagination, that « all will terminate to our heart's cons

tent. »

Comfort E thyself eternally with this persuasion, That the best of beings, as thou hast sweetly expressed it, could not, by a combination of accidents, produce such a chain of events, merely to be the source of misery to the leading person engaged in them.»-The observation was very applicable, very good, and very elegantly expressed I wish my memory did justice to the wording of it.

Who taught you the art of writing so sweetly, Eliza? You have absolutely exalted it to a science When I am in want of ready cash, and ill health will not permit my genius to exert itself, I shall print your letters as finished Essays, by an unfortunate Indian Lady. The stile is new, and would almost be a sufficient recommendation for their selling well, without merit ; but their sense, natural ease and spic rit, is not to be equalled, I believe, in this section of the globe; nor, I will answer for it, by any of your country-women in yours.

I have shewed your letter to Mrs. B, and to half the literati in town: you shall not be angry with mo' for it, because I meant to do you honour by it. You cannot imagine how many admirers your epis tolary productions have gained you, that never viewed your external merits. I only wonder where thou couldest acquire thy graces, thy goodness, thy accom plishments! so connected! so educated! Nature has surely studyed to make thee her peculiar care; for thou art, and not in my eyes alone, the best and fair est of all her works..

And so, this is the last letter thou art to receive from me; because the earl of Chatham (1), I read in the papers, is got to the Downs; and the wind, I find, is fair. If so, blessed woman, take my last, last fare= well! Cherish the remembrance of me; think how I esteem, nay, how affectionately I love thee, and what a price I set upon thee! Adieu, adieu! and with my adieu, let me give thee one straight rule of conduct, that thou hast heard from my lips in a thousand forms, but I concenter it in one word:

REVERENCE THYSELF.d

Adieu once more, Eliza! May no anguish of heart plant a wrinkle upon thy face, till I behold it again! may no doubt or misgivings disturb the serenity of thy mind, or awaken a painful thought about thy children, for they are Yorick's, and Yorick is thy friend for ever!=

Adieu, adieu, adieu.

P. S. Remember that «Hope shortens all journies by sweetening them»; so sing my little stanza on the subject, with the devotion of an hymn, every morning when thou arisest; and thou wilt eat thy breakfast with more comfort for it.

* Blessings, rest, and Hygeia go with thee! Mayest thou soon return, in peace and affluence, to illumine my night! I am, and shall be the last to deplore thy loss, and will be the first to congratulate and hail thy return.

Fare thee well!=

(1) The earl of Chatham sailed from Deal, april 3 1767.

THE END.

EXTRAIT DE RAYNAL.

Persuaded that the readers of the preceding Letters will be pleased to see the opinion entertained of the amiable lady, to whom they are addressed, by two writers equally celebrated, but of different nations, and of very

to her by the erent characters, and both attached

warmest ties of friendship, we shall make no apology for adding an extract from the writings of l'Abbé Raynal, as much admired for justness of thoughts as elegance of style.

TERRITOIRE d'Anjinga, tu n'es rien, mais tn as donné naissance à Eliza. Un jour ces entrepôts de commerce, fondés par les Européens sur les côtes d'Asie, ne subsisteront plus. L'herbe les couvrira, ou l'Indien vengé aura bâti sur leurs débris, avant que quelques siecles se soient écoulés. Mais, si mes écrits ont quelque durée, le nom d'Anjinga restera dans la mémoire des hommes. Ceux qui me liront, ceux que les vents pousseront vers ces rivages, diront: c'estlà que naquit Eliza Draper; et s'il est un Breton par= mi eux, il se hâtera d'ajouter avec orgueil : et qu'elle y naquit de parents anglais.

Qu'il me soit permis d'épancher ici ma douleur et ines larmes! Eliza fut mon amie. O lecteur! qui que tu sois, pardonne-moi ce mouvement involontaire : laisse-moi m'occuper d'Eliza. Si je t'ai quelquefois attendri sur les malheurs de l'espece humaine, daigne aujourd'hui compatir à ma propre infortune. Je fus ton ami, sans te connoître; sois un moment le mien: ta douce pitié sera ma récompense.

à Eliza finit sa carriere dans la patrie de ses peres, l'âge de trente-trois ans. Une ame céleste se sépara d'un corps céleste. Vous qui visitez le lieu où reposent ses cendres saerées, écrivez sur le marbre qui les