than myself. You should encourage your daughter to talk over with you what she reads; and as you are very capable of distinguishing, take care she does not mistake pert folly for wit and humor, or rhyme for poetry, which are the common errors of young people, and have a train of ill consequences. The second caution to be given her, (and which is most absolutely necessary,) is to conceal whatever learning she attains, with as much solicitude as she would hide crookedness or lameness: the parade of it can only serve to draw on her the envy, and consequently the most inveterate hatred, of all he and she fools, which will certainly be at least three parts in four of her acquaintance. The use of knowledge in our sex, besides the amusement of solitude, is to moderate the passions, and learn to be contented with a small expense, which are the certain effects of a studious life; and it may be preferable even to that fame which men have engrossed to themselves, and will not suffer us to share. If she has the same inclination (I should say passion) for learning that I was born with, history, geography, and philosophy will furnish her with materials to pass away cheerfully a longer life than is allotted to mortals. I believe there are few heads capable of making Sir Isaac Newton's calculations, but the result of them is not difficult to be understood by a moderate capacity. Ι It is a saying of Thucydides, that ignorance is bold, and knowledge reserved. Indeed, it is impossible to be far advanced in it without being more humbled by a conviction of human ignorance than elated by learning. At the same time I recommend books, I neither exclude work nor drawing. I think it is scandalous for a woman not to know how to use a needle. I was once extremely fond of my pencil, and it was a great mortification to me when my father turned off my master, having made a considerable progress for the short time I learned. My over-eagerness in the pursuit of it had brought a weakness in my eyes, that made it necessary to leave off; and all the advantage I got was the improvement of my hand. I see by hers, that practice will make her a ready writer: she may attain it by serving you for a secretary, when your health or affairs make it troublesome to you to write yourself; and custom will make it an agreeable amusement to her. She cannot have too many for that station of life which will probably be her fate. The ultimate end of your education was to make you a good wife, (and I have the comfort to hear that you are one;) hers ought to be to make her happy in a virgin state. I will not say it is happier, but it is undoubtedly safer than any marriage. In a lottery, where there is (at the lowest computation) ten thousand blanks to a prize, it is the most prudent choice not to venture. I have always been so thoroughly persuaded of this truth, that, notwithstanding the flattering views I had for you, (as I never intended you a sacrifice to my vanity,) I thought I owed you the justice to lay before you all the hazards attending matrimony: you may recollect I did so in the strongest manner. Perhaps you may have more success in the instructing your daughter; she has so much company at home, she will not need seeking it abroad, and will more readily take the notions you think fit to give her. As you were alone in my family, it would have been thought a great cruelty to suffer you no companions of your own age, especially having so many near relations, and I do not wonder their opinions influenced yours. I was not sorry to see you not determined on a single life, knowing it was not your father's intention; and contented myself with endeavoring to make your home so easy, that you might not be in haste to leave it. I am afraid you will think this a very long, insignificant letter. I hope the kindness of the design will excuse it, being willing to give you every proof in my power that I am your most affectionate mother. JOHN BYROM. 1691-1763. JOHN BYROм, the son of a linen-draper at Manchester, was born in 1691, and at the age of seventeen entered the University of Cambridge. Here he cultivated with great assiduity a taste for elegant letters, and especially for poetry, to which, even in his earliest years, he had shown a marked propensity. After taking his degree, he obtained a fellowship in the university, through the influence of Dr. Richard Bentley, whose daughter Joanna is the "Phœbe" of his pastoral poem, the best of his poetical efforts. As he declined "taking orders," he vacated his fellowship, and soon after married. Having no profession, he went to London, and supported himself by teaching short-hand writing, till, by the death of his elder brother, he inherited the family estate, and spent the remainder of his life in easy circumstances, devoting his time to literary pursuits. He died on the 28th of September, 1763, in the seventy-second year of his age. Byrom's best piece is his pastoral poem of "Colin and Phœbe," remarkable for its easy and flowing versification, and its sprightliness of thought. He also wrote a poem on "Enthusiasm," and one on the "Immortality of the Soul." His comic poem, entitled "The Three Black Crows," has a most excellent moral in it, well illustrating the nature of Rumor, the "Fama" of Virgil. The Spectator is indebted to him for four or five numbers, of which Nos. 586 and 593 are upon the nature and use of dreams. A PASTORAL. I. My time, O ye Muses, was happily spent, But now she is gone, and has left me behind; II. With such a companion, to tend a few sheep, My fair one is gone, and my joys are all drown'd, 111. The fountain that wont to run sweetly along, IV. When my lambkins around me would oftentimes play, I fling at their fleeces a handful of grass: Be still, then I cry; for it makes me quite mad, V. My dog I was ever well pleased to see VI. When walking with Phoebe, what sights have I seen. VII. Sweet music went with us both all the wood through, The lark, linnet, throstle and nightingale too; Winds over us whisper'd, flocks by us did bleat, VIII. Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue? Does aught of its sweetness the blossom beguile? And made yourselves fine for-a place in her breast; To be pluck'd by her hand, on her bosom to die. IX. How slowly Time creeps, till my Phœbe return! I could breathe on his wings, and 'twould melt down the ead. And rest so much longer for't when she is here Ah, Colin! old Time is full of delay, Nor will budge one foot faster for all thou canst say. X. Will no pitying power that hears me complain, Or cure my disquiet or soften my pain? To be cured, thou must, Colin, thy passion remove; No, Deity, bid the dear nymph to return, For ne'er was poor shepherd so sadly forlorn. Ah! what shall I do? I shall die with despair! Take heed, all ye swains, how ye part with your fair THE THREE BLACK CROWS. Two honest tradesmen meeting in the Strand, I have it from good hands, and so may you.- Sir, did you tell-relating the affair Yes, sir, I did: and if it's worth your care, But, by the by, 'twas two black crows, not three.- Then to his last informant he referr'd, And begg'd to know, if true what he had heard? Black crows have been thrown up, three, two, and one; WILLIAM KING. 1685-1763. DR. WILLIAM KING, born at Stepney, in Middlesex, in 1885, " was known and esteemed," says his biographer, "by the first men of his time for wit and learning; and must be allowed to have been a polite scholar, an excellent orator, and an elegant and easy writer, both in Latin and English." He died in 1763, having sketched his own character in an elegant epitaph, in which, while he acknowledges his failings, he claims the praise of benevolence, temperance, and fortitude. The work by which he is now chiefly known is that from which the following extracts are taken-"Political and Literary Anecdotes of his own Times." VIRGIL. Most of the commentators on the Greek and Roman poets think it sufficient to explain their author, and to give us the various readings. Some few indeed have made us remark the excellency of the poet's plan, the elegance of his diction, and the propriety of his thoughts, at the same time pointing out as examples the most striking and beautiful descriptions. Ruæus, in his comment on Virgil, certainly excelled all his fellow-laborers, who were appointed to explain and publish a series of the Roman classics for the use of the Dauphin. His mythological, historical, and geo graphical notes are a great proof of his learning and diligence. But he hath not entered into the spirit of the author, and dis |