Houfes of Parliament on the subjeft of the Regency.

13. The Will of old Ruffel of Bermondsey, established in Chancery.

18. The firft ftone of St. James's church, Clerkenwell, laid.

26. The caft terrace of Somerset houfe fell in, with confiderable damage to the buildings.

A

S foon as the feffion of Parliament was over in the end of June, the King (William) went to Holland, to revive the afhes of the grand alliance, upon the refolution which he had obtained from the Houfes, and to concert with foreign generals there, the plans of future campaigns which he meditated. But though his body was wafted, his legs fwelled, his voice like that of a grafshopper, weakened by an asthma, the most difcouraging of all difcafes, because at every draught of breath, it reminds the sufferer, and those who fee him, that it may be his laft; yet furrounded with statesmen and warriors, the eye of the eagle (that feature of his face which ftruck the duke of Berwick, when he faw the king for the first time at the battle of Landen) and the [pirit of the eagle ftill remained with him. He concealed from the public, though not from his friends, his consciousness of the little time he had to live, and on that very account exerted him the inore, to make use of that little.

About the fame time, his unfortunate rival was on his death bed at St. Germains, furrounded by priefts, and a few followers of the Scotch and Irish nations, who continued faithful to his fortunes to the last. Lewis XIV. whose resolutions were always directed by a strange pixture of policy and fentiment,

in which sometimes one, and some times the other, got the better, paid him a vifit when in this fituation. But whether he meant it as a mere vifit of compliment and fympathy, or whether he had further views, is not known. When he entered the chamber, James was lying on his back with his eyes thut; the pofture in which he commonly kept himself, that his mind, wrap ped up in religious meditations, might be the lefs difturbed by external objects; his fervants were performing fervices on their knees. around him, fo that Lewis thought he was dead, and was retiring. But one of the attendants inform ing James that the king of France was come to fee him, he looked round the room, but was so infenfible as not to perceive him, and faid, "where is he?" Lewis approaching the bed, James was not able to fpeak, but taking the king's hand into his two hands, grasped it, kiffed it, and a tear or two trickled upon it. Lewis, ftruck with the contrast between his own grandeur, and the humbled ftate of the other, burst into tears, and affured him that he would protect his fon, and proclaim him king, upon an event which he hoped was not far off. All in the chamber threw themselves on the ground, fharing in the paffion of their two fovereigns. From thence the contagion of fympathy ran to

D

the

the guards of the palace at the gate,

and from thence to the multitude without; fo that when Lewis took his coach, he paffed through thoufands of people, bleffing and praying for him, amidst the extreme imprudence of the meafure to his own and his people's peace; perhaps more happy in that tender moment of pallion, than he had ever been in his moft active hours of exultation and glory. As he paffed, he called for the officer of the guard, and gave him orders for proclaiming the young prince, as foon as his father expired. The officer, who happened to be an Irishman, bowed, kneeled, and and weeping retired. A few days after, on the 17th of September, James died, and his fon was proclaimed at St. Germain's, king of the British islands, with all the parade of heralds, trumpets, and other ceremonies ufual on fuch occafions.

The news of the proclamation fet all England in flames; for even those who wished well to the family of Stuart, accounted it an indignity that a king of France fhould prefume to name a king of England, without confulting his fubjects. Addreffes to the throne were therefore powered from every quarter of the kingdom, filled with gratitude to heaven for the revolution, loyalty to William and the Houfe of Hanover, and hostility against France. The king took advantage of the accident, as he was in ufe to do of every other,

and, in November, amidst the tranfports of the people in his favour and against France, fummoned a new parliament; confcious, from the reluctance which the late House of Commons had fhewn to the war, their violence again ft his late minifters, and their differences with the House of Lords, that it would be the height of imprudence to begin a great war with a difcontented and a divided parliament. The event anfwered his expectations: a new House of Commons was returned by the peo. ple, which entered intoall his views; for the war approved of his alliances (commonly called the fecond grand alliance) with the Dutch, the Emperor, the Danes, and the Swedes, to carry it on; voted a levy of 40,000 forces, a fleet to be equipped with 40,000 feamen to ferve in it, and fupplies to be raised adequate to the fervice for which they were needed; addressed the king never to make peace with France, till he and the nation had received reparation for the affront lately put upon both at St. Germain's; attainted the unfortunate boy of twelve years of age, who had been proclaimed king of England there; and framed a bill, that paffed into a law, which required an oath abjuring him, to be taken by all perfons of public ftations, and another to attaint the late queen; but the more generous pcers would give no countenance to the last.

of

himself with his own whimfies. He fets up haberdasher of small poetry, with a very small stock, and no credit. He believes it is

invention

invention enough to find out other men's wit; and whatfoever he lights upon, either in books or company, he makes bold with as his own. This he puts together fo untowardly, that you may perceive his own wit has the rickets, by the fwelling difproportion of the joints. Imitation is the whole fum of him : and his flame like that of charcoals that were burnt before: but as he wants judgment to understand the beft, he naturally takes the worst, as being molt agrecable to his own talent. You may know his wit not to be natural, it is fo unquiet and troublesome in him: for as those that have money but seldom are always fhaking their pockets when they have it; fo does he, when he thinks he has got fomething that will make him appear. He measures other men's wits by their modefty, and his own by his confidence. He makes nothing of writing plays, because he has not wit enough to understand the dif. ficulty. This makes him talk and fcribble, as choufers do to play with cunning gamefters, until they are cheated and laughed at. He is always talking of wit, as those who have had voices are always finging out of tune; and thofe that cannot play delight to fumble on inftruments: he grows the unwifer by other men's harms; for the worse others write, he finds the more encouragement to do fo too. His greediness of praife is fo eager that he fwallows any thing that comes in the likeness of it, how notorious and palpable foever, and as fhot-free against any thing that may leffen his good opinion of himfelf. This renders him incurable, like difeafes that grow infenble.

If he understands Greek or Latin he ranks himself among the learned, defpifes the ignorant, and fets up his reft wholly upon pedan. try. But if he is not fo well qualified, he cries down all learning as pedantic, difclaims ftudy, and profeffes to write with as great ease, as if his mufe was fliding down Pafnaffus: whatever he hears well faid, he feizes upon by poetical licence; and one way makes his own, that is, by ill repeating it. This he believes to be no more theft, than it is to take that which others throw away. By this means his writings are like a taylor's cushion of mofiac work made up of feveral fcraps fewed together. He difclaims ftudy, pretends to take things in motion, and to shoot flying, which appears to be very true, by his often milling of his mark. His wit is much troubled with obftructions, and he has fits as painful as thofe of the fpleen! For fimilitudes, he likes the hardest and moft obfcure beft: for as ladies wear black patches, to make them feem fairer than they are; fo when an illuftration is more obfcure than the fenfe that went before it, it muft of neceffity make it appear clearer than it did; for contraries are beft fet off with contraries. For metaphors, he chufes the hardeft, and most far fetched that he can light on. These are the jewels of eloquence, and therefore the harder they are, the more precious they must be. When he writes anagrams, he uses to lay the outfides of his verses even (like a bricklayer) by a line of rhyme and acroftic, and fill the middle with rubbish in this he imitates Ben Johnfon, but in nothing else.

The Aage TruDLET'S REPLY,

A thoufand thanks, moft illuftrious Brother, for the anfwer with which you have honoured me! it is as ingenious as obliging; and, better ftill, it is very lively, which proves your good flate of health, the only thing left you to prove. Long may you retain it!

CHAR

and with it, all.the.charms, all the fire of your genius! this is the wifh even of your enemies, who, though they hate your perfon, love your works. For my own part, I love both the writings and the writers and am, with equal attachinent and esteem,

Sir, your most humble, &c.
TRUBLET."

HARITY is a step beyond justice; and is truly characterized as a virtue of the heart, and not of the hands. Gifts and alms are the expreffions, not the offence of this virtue. A man may be flow great fums on the poor and diftreffed, without being charitable; and he may be charitable, when he is not able to bestow any thing. Charity is a habit of good-will or benevolence in the soul, which difpofes us to the love, afliftance, and relief of mankind, especially of those whole circumftances call for hamane alfiftance. The poor man who has this excellent frame of mind, is no lefs intitled to the reward of this virtue, than the man who founds a college.

A liberality of difpofition may be difplayed in acts of generofity, at -the expence of the claims of justice; but juftice is to take place of charity. What we ordinarily term generofity will, when carefully examined, be found to flow from a loose unguarded temper, rather than from an honeft liberal mind:

the generous man in this view would foon find, were he difpofed to ftate his accounts, that he has facrificed to fools, knaves, flatterers, or the defervedly unhappy, all the opportunities of affording affiftance, where it is due; if not the ability of discharging obliga, Wons insured by imprudence.

The measures of juftice pre. fcribed to us in our tranfactions with others, is remarkably clear and comprehenfive: "Whatsoever ye would that men fhould do unt☛ you, do ye even fo unto them.” But one great cause of uncertainty and hesitation in thofe by whom this fublime precept has been com. mented on and dilated, is the confufion of what the exacter cafuifts are careful to diftinguifh, as debts of justice and debts of charity.

The difcharge of the debts of charity, or duties which we owe to others not merely at the call of justice, but as dictated by benevo lence, admits in its own nature a greater complication of circumftances, and greater latitude of choice than may be obvious at first fight. Juftice is indifpenfibly and univerfally neceffary; and what is neceffary must be always limited, uniform and diftinct. But bene ficence, though in general equally enjoined by our religion, and equally needful to the conciliation of the divine favour, is yet, for the most part, with regard to its fingle acts, elective and voluntary. We may certainly, without injury to our fellow beings, allow in the diftribution of kindness fomething to our affections; and change the meafure of our liberality according to our opinions and profpects, our hopes and fears. This rule there