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prove a burden to her benefactors; her friend will shortly grant her fervent wish, and softly remove her to her husband and her children....

DUELLING.

" Projecere animas."

Virc. “ They prodigally throw their souls away."'. .... As it is possible, my son, that, at some future pe riod, you may have a seat in the senate, where this important subject ought to be duly considered, I wish you to see it in the true light, that you may be able, in case it should ever come within the reach of your power, to give that sort of assistance, upon that occasion, which might be useful to the world and creditable to yourself. . At present you should reflect deeply upon the subject, and make up your mind in what manner you would act, if, unhappily, you were to be involved in a quarrel :-were such an event to happen, you, very probably, would not at the time be cool enough to place, properly, the different arguments upon the point before you. Therefore, when unbiased by passion, consider the subject impartially--always remembering that the best and wisest way is to chuse the path least likely to lead to complicated mischief. .

Whatever concerns this transient life of a day is perfect·ly immaterial, when put in comparison with even the

chance of a future, and, possibly, an eternal, one.--Remember that it is a heinous and unpardonable offence to behave in such a manner by actions, words, or looks,

as may provoke a man of the world, not checked by principle, or influenced by religion, to require what he calls satisfaction;-were you to give the sort of provocation I have mentioned, you would be the aggressor of course, and the culpable person.

If you have given any man offence, even unintentiona : ally, let not the haughtiness of your after-conduct prevent a reconciliation.-Remember that your soul, as well as your life, may be at stake upon the event..... Remember, likewise, that the trifles, which men in general quarrel about, are, in reality, no kind of excuse for risking the terrible consequences that very often follow the destructive practice I am reprobating. That an angry look-a petulant word even a blowma-cannot be set in competition with them:--- Justice refuses to place them in her scales--but she cries aloud for public attention to a subject of such public importance.

I will conclude by solemnly assuring you, that, though your honour is as precious to me as your life, I would rather you should risk the scorn of the ill-judging world, than that you should meet its smiles by letting any thing urge you to give or receive a challenge.--For, by doing even the latter, though you were determined not to fire at your adversary, you still give your sanction to his taking away your life, and thus become a willing accessary to murder.

No man ought to be slighted who upon principle refuses a challenge;—such ill-judged contempt is the principal cause which tends to increase and establish "the barbarous custom; a man ought sooner to be distinguished for his attention to rectitude, who has courage enough to dare the unjust contempt of the world,

but does not dare to set religion, law, and humanity, af defiance. · I must again urge you to consider the unequal stake; for, what offence can be put in comparison with the sudden loss of life?-wretchedness to your surviving family and friends-and, probably, as I have said before, and for any thing you can know to the contrary, future condemnation from an offended God.....

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THE CONJUGAL HAPPINESS OF A POET. , ; “ Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets! ...ini

Here Love his golden shafts employs; here lights as
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings: 2

He reigns and revels......................" GART#. The reader of taste will not wish thut Mrs. Klopstock's letters, which

follow, had been pụt into better English: they pourtray, with the most endearing and ingenuous simplicity, her ardent love for the Poet, as well as the rare domestic felicity they enjoyed in the union of their hearts.

Hamburg, March 14, 1758. »... You will know all what concerns me. Love, dear Şir, is all what me concerns! and love shall be all what I will tell you in this letter.

In one happy night I read my husband's poem, the Messiah. I was extremely touched with it. The next day I asked one of his friends, who was the author of this poem. And this was the first time I heard Klopstock's name. I believe I fell immediately in love with him. At the least, my thoughts were ever with him filled, especially because his friend told me very much

of his character. But I had no hopes ever to see him, when quite unexpectedly I heard that I should pass through Hamburg. I wrote immediately to the same friend, for procuring by his means that I might see the author of the Messiah, when in Hamburg. He told him that a certain girl at Hamburg wished to see him, and, for all recommendation, showed him some letters, in which I made bold to criticise Klopstock's verses. Klopstock came, and came to me. I must confess, that so greatly prepossessed of his qualities, I never thought him the amiable youth whom I found him. This made its effect. After having seen him two hours, I was obliged to pass the evening in a company, which never had been so wearisome to me. I could not speak, I could not play; I thought I saw nothing but Klopstock. I saw him the next day, and the following, and we were seriously friends. But the fourth day he departed. It was a strong hour the hour of his departure! He wrote soon after, and from that time our correspondence began to be a very diligent one. I sincerely believed my love to be friendship. I spoke with my friends of no-. thing but Klopstock, and showed his letters. They rallied at me, and said I was in love. I rallied them again, and said that they must have a very friendshipless heart, if they had no idea of friendship to a man as well as to a woman. Thus it continued eight months, in which time my friends found as much love in Klopstock's letters as in me. I perceived it likewise, but I would not believe it. At the last Klopstock said plainly that he loved; and I startled as for a wrong thing. I answered, that it was not love, but friendship, as it was that I felt for him; we had not seen one another enough

to love (as if love must have more time than friendship!) This was sincerely my meaning, and I had this meaning till Klopstock came again to Hamburg. This he did a year after we had seen one another for the first time. We saw, we were friends, we loved, and we believed that we loved; and a short time after I could even tell Klopstock that I loved. But we were obliged to part again, and wait two years for our wedding. My moa ther would not let me marry a stranger. I could marry then without her consentment, as by the death of my father my fortune depended not on her; but this was an horrible idea for me; and thank Heaven that I have prevailed by prayers. At this time knowing Klopstock, she loves him as her lifely son, and thanks God that she has not persisted. We married, and I am the happiest wife in the world. In some few months it will be four years that I am so happy, and still I dote upon Klopstock as if he was my bridegroom..: · If you knew my husband, you would not wonder. If you knew his poem, I could describe him very briefly, in

saying he is in all respects what he is as a poet. This ' I can say with all wifely modesty.....but I dare not to

speak of my husband; I am all rapture when I do it. And happy as I am in love, so happy am I in friendship, in my mother, two eldest sisters, and five other women. - How rich I am!

Sir, you have willed that I should speak of myself, but I fear I have done it too much. Yet you see how it interests me....

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