Blood-happy hang at his fair jutting chest, And mark his beauteous chequer'd fides with gore. But what was the confequence of this heroifm! Happening one day to call at the house, I found the family in great confufion. Upon enquiry the father told me, PEG has had a defperate fall, that's the truth on't, but, thank God, she has only broke her leg; 'twas a mercy 'twa'n't her neck. He then gave me a circumftantial account of the accident, concluding with lamenting, that the poor wench would certainly lose all the fine hunting season by it.It were needlefs perhaps to inform my readers, that Mifs PEGGY's fracture was at length with a great deal of difficulty and hazard reduced, but that she has continued a cripple ever fince. I shall not make any reflections on, or draw any inferences from this ftory, but leave it to the confideration of my fair hunting-readers, whom I would by all means advise to lay afide the fpirit of the chace, together with the cap, the whip, and all the mafculine attire: theirs ought to be a very different chace, their excellencies of a far more delicate nature, than that of Springing a fence, or reining a steed. Oh may their eyes no miserable fight Save weeping lovers fee! a nobler game Thro' love's enchanting wiles pursued, yet fled In chace ambiguous And fashion'd all to harmony alone Know they to fieze the captivated foul, In rapture warbled from love-breathing lips; Well-order'd home man's beft delight to make; D. On a SECT of ACADEMICAL PHILOSOPHERS. Brother STUDENT, A Queen's Coll. Oxon. S I have the honour of both Universities very much at heart; and as I am fenfible, your labours have contributed more to that honour than many productions of our late controverfialists, the S. T. P's, the L. L. D's, the F. R. S's, the C. M. L. S's, the &c. &c. &c. not excepted; I gladly embrace the opportunity of celebrating a very numerous fect of Philofophers, who are the greatest ornament and fupport of thefe learned focieties. You may remember, your predeceffor the SPECTATOR has given us an account from a brother Cantab. of a very eminent sect of Philofophers ftyl'd Loungers, whom he yet further dignifies with the appellation of Peripateticks; an appellation admirably adapted to the tenets they maintain, and expreffive of the firft principles of their philofophy. Now the Philofophers I am speaking of, I would for the fame reasons chufe to call Quietifts; Reft being with these as fundamental a point in their system, as Motion is held to be by the above-mention'd Peripateticks. Were we nicely to examine into the original rife of, Quietifm, we should find the first feeds of it among the most famous Zoo, or Sophs, of the ancients. ARISTOTLE was a Wrangler, confequently no Quietist; and SOCRATES was too much tongue-baited, XANTIPPE being, as indeed is every female Philosopher, a strong Anti-Quietist. Nor was PLATO any favourer of this Sect; but DIOGENES, who liv'd in a tub, and PYRRHO, who would give way to nothing, with many others equally famous, appear to have had a notion of our Quietism, particularly EPICURUS, who maintain'd that the Gods themselves were thorough-pac'd Quietists. (Vide STANLEY'S Lives of the Philofophers throughout.) But to leave the ancients to themselves, it is very certain that Qui etifm etifin was never thoroughly understood till our colleges were founded, as it should feem, for the encouragement of Quietism; many of our Profeffors, Heads of Houfes, Fellows, Lecturers, Tutors, &c. having been remarkable Quietifts. Now the difference in opinion between this fect and that of the Peripateticks is as follows. The one maintain a circular motion to be the most natural; the other are fix'd advocates for an abfolute reft in the nature of things. But both of them agree in admitting for their firft and grand principle, that property inherent in all boies, which is call'd, the vis inertia, or defire of doing nothing. Our Universities, I may venture to fay, have a numerous party in both of thefe fects. The juniors are obferv'd to be chiefly inclin❜d to Lownging, while the senior part fall natu rally into the other fyftem. It is further remarkable, that the greatest sticklers for Peripateticifm, as they advance in the Univerfity gradually flacken and at length fettle into a confirm'd Quietism. I fhall fend you by and by a more particular account of these Philosophers; being myself, as it were, in a middle state at present between both: but (having fill'd my paper) I muft now conclude myself, dear brother, Yours very affectionately, REGENT. The HISTORY of a CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. I In a LETTER from a LADY to her FRIEND. DEAR MADAM, AM forry that you are angry with me for not anfwer ing your letters as ufual; which I fhould have done; for I am too fenfible of your favours and friendship never willingly to give you the leaft offence. I know you expect, when I write, I fhould fend you the news of the neighbourhood; and fuch an accident, fuch a misfortune has befallen one of Numb, VIII. PP eur our particular acquaintance, as I am afraid will break your tender heart, when you hear it, as it has almost done mine. 'Tis poor Sally Brown I am speaking of, the only child of that good man, and your much valued friend, the Rev. Mr. Brown and his lady, to whom we have been endear'd by a thousand thousand acts of friendship. 'Tis of her I am going to write, who has been kill'd, most inhumanly murder'd by that worst of villians, that devil Sir Thomas. I have often fat down to write this to you, and been as often interrupted. Whenever I attempt it, methinks I fee that venerable good man the father, and that amiable dear woman the mother, ftanding before me with their unhappy offspring mangled and bloody, as if I had been privy to the horrid deed. Her mother gave me charge of her at her death, and all the care I could I took of her; but what could I do? I could not restrain the lawless luft of a designing villain. The living of our parish, you know, is but fmall, not above 40 1. a year, yet as Mr. Brown was a pious good man, and greatly beloved by the gentry round about, he lived very well, and brought up his daughter in a genteel manner-ah poor Sally!--and would have done very well for her, had it pleafed God to have fpared his life a few years longer, But he died and left his dear widow and child with only about bol. after their debts were paid. Mrs. Brown, after her husband's death, found herself greatly disappointed in the expectations fhe had formed of her friends; for now hardly any body took notice of the poor lady or her daughter, but Madam Libb, Mrs. Johnson and myself. Some of the great people, indeed, who had often been merry and familiar at their houfe in the hufband's time, would ftop their coaches, and afk after madam and mifs; but then it was done in fuch a manner, as plainly fhew'd it was only for form's fake. ; Sixty pounds, you know, was no fum to maintain two people, and therefore fome bufinefs was to be thought of for their fupport. As there were a good many children in the neighbourhood, and at that time nobody to teach them, Mrs. Drawn Brown fet up a fchool and took in plain-work. This was like to do very well, but before fhe had been in this bufinefs two months, she was seized with a violent fever, which depriv'd her dear daughter of the beft mother in the world, and you and me of the most fincere friend. She was too well inftructed by her husband, and fraught with too much virtue and good fenfe to be at all difconcerted at the appearance of death. Her peace, however, was difturb'd whenever her daughter came in fight, then would the tears run plentifully down her cheeks. Just before she expired, taking me by the hand, " My dear Mrs. Plumber, faid fhe, my old and my "conftant friend, have an eye to my daughter, and take her "under your direction. She has virtuous, religious, and good difpofitions; but this is a wide world and a wicked one. Her beauty too may help to ruin her; fo, dear “Mrs. Plumber, take care of her. God will bless you for «it, and return it to your children an hundred fold." She then call'd her daughter, kiss'd and wept over her, and soon expired. This illness, together with the apothecary's bill and funeral expences reduced her little ftock to 30 1. which was all the money poor Mifs Sally had to breed her up and maintain her. My husband, however, thinking to get fome collection made for her among the gentry, fent her to a school at fome diftance; but failing in that intended collection, and hearing that Sir Thomas's housekeeper wanted a companion and affiftant, fhe was by the advice of every body taken from schoo and fent thither. Here the behaved in her ufual engaging manner, and acquired the love and esteem of the whole family; and among the reft Sir Thomas himself, who was continually making her prefents, and taking her to walk with him in the garden. Sir Thomas is indeed a young man; but as he had always carefs'd and, to appearance, eftecm'd the girl's father, this was confidered by the family as no other than a kind remembrance of his virtues, a debt paid to a deceafed friend. Time however foon discovered the true reafon of his civi |