mourning for the Admiral, Mother Damnable: she hung her rooms with black.

(Gray's verses on Walpole's Cat, vol. xi. p. 373.)She is also called a Tabby Cat in one line, a TortoiseShell Cat in another; perhaps he knew no more of his nymph than Cowley of his fictitious mistresses. A poet makes his puss to his own mind, and then writes verses to her.*

(Life of Lyttleton, vol. xi. p. 380.)-Doctor Johnson requested Lord Westcote, in my hearing, to write this life for him (tho' I am sure he neither loved nor esteemed the man). Lord Westcote declined the work with many complimentary expressions; said his dear brother was in the best possible hands, &c.; and after it was written, flew in a rage and ran to Mrs. Montagu, complaining of Doctor Johnson, who sate still and laugh'd at my Lord Parenthesis, as he called Billy Lyt telton.

(Vol. xi. p. 382.)- Very modestly said. Johnson would not suffer his personal dislike to operate upon character in a work he meant to be lasting. Lady Lyttelton lived to a very great age.

"Doctor, you shall be my confessor." (Vol. xi. p. 387.)

So ended a man (Lord Lyttelton) who had always fulminated against auricular confession, tho' it is surely

* The china bowl in which the identical cat was drowned was amongst the curiosities of Strawberry Hill before the dispersion of its treasures. These are irrecoverable, but the present owner, Frances, Countess of Waldegrave, is doing all that can be done by taste and munificence to revive the genius of the place.

better confessing our sins to a priest than a physician. What signifies blaming each other so? Confession to a priest has nothing in it necessarily evil; Romanists may have abused the practice, but blaming our brother Christians is no better in us Protestants: 'twere wiser to let that alone.

MISCELLANIES

OR

ORIGINAL COMPOSITIONS IN PROSE AND VERSE

MISCELLANIES

OR

ORIGINAL COMPOSITIONS IN PROSE AND VERSE.*

THE THREE WARNINGS.

A TALE.

THE tree of deepest root is found
Least willing still to quit the ground;
'Twas therefore said by ancient sages,
That love of life increased with years.
So much, that in our latter stages,

When pains grow sharp and sickness rages,
The greatest love of life appears.

This great affection to believe,

Which all confess but few perceive,
If old affections can't prevail,

Be pleased to hear a modern tale.

When sports went round, and all were gay,

On neighbour Dobson's wedding day,

* Under this head I have printed only those which were found detached. The majority of her fugitive pieces and occasional verses are contained in the Letters.