prefs upon our imagination; even exclufive of their moral or religious ufe, there is a fympathetic enjoyment which often makes it not only better, but more delightful, to go to the houfe of mourning than to the house of feasting. Perhaps I felt it fo, when, but a few days fince, I attended the funeral of a young lady, who was torn, in the bloom of youth and beauty, from the arms of a father who doted on her, of a family by whom he was adored; I think I would not have exchanged my feelings at the time for all the mirth which gaiety could inspire, or all the pleasure which luxury could bestow. Maria was in her twentieth year. To the beauty of her form, and excellency of her natural disposition, a parent equally indulgent and attentive had done the fulleft justice. To accomplish her perfon, and to cultivate her mind, every endeavour had been used; and they had been attended with that fuccefs they commonly meet with, when not prevented by mistaken fondness, or untimely vanity. Few young ladies have attracted more admiration-none ever felt it lefs: With all the charms of beauty, and the polish of education, the plainest were not lefs affected, nor the most ignorant lefs affuming. She died when every tongue was eloquent on her virtues, when every hope was ripening to reward them. It is by fuch private and domestic diftreffes, that the fofter emotions of the heart are moft ftrongly excited. The fall of more important perfonages is commonly dif tant from our obfervation; but, even where it happens under G 3 under our more immediate notice, there is a mixture of other feelings by which our compaffion is weakened. The eminently great, or extremely useful, leave behind them a train of interrupted views, and difappointed expectations, by which the diftrefs is complicated beyond the fimplicity of pity. But the death of one, who, like Maria, was to fhed the influence of her virtues over the age of a father, and the childhood of her fifters, prefent to us a little view of family afflictions, which every eye can perceive, and every heart can feel. fcenes of public forrow, and national regret, we gaze, as upon thofe gallery pictures which ftrike us with wonder and admiration; domeftic calamity, is like the miniature of a friend, which we wear in our bofoms, and keep for fecret looks and folitary enjoyment. On The last time I faw Maria, was in the midst of a crowded affembly of the fafhionable and the gay, where fhe fixed all eyes by the gracefulness of her motion, and the native dignity of her mien: yet fo tempered was that fuperiority which they conferred with gentleness and modefty, that not a murmur was heard, either from the rival hip of beauty, or the envy of homelinefs. From that fcene the tranfition was fo violent to the hearse and the pall, the grave and the fod, that once or twice my imagination turned rebel to my senses; I beheld the objects around me as the painting of a dream, and thought of Maria as living ftill. I was foon, however, recalled to the fad reality. The figure of her father bending over the grave of his darling child; the filent fuffering compofure in which his countenance was fixed; the tears of his attendants whofe grief was capable of tears; thefe gave me back the truth, and reminded me that I fhould fee her no more. There was a flow of forrow with which I fuf fered myself to be born along, with a kind of melancholy indulgence; but, when her father dropped the cord with which he had helped to lay his Maria in the earth, its found on the coffin chilled my heart, and horror for a moment took place of pity. It was but for a moment-He looked eagerly into the grave; made one involuntary motion to ftop the affiftants who were throwing the earth into it; then fuddenly recollecting himself, clafped his hands together, threw up his eyes to heaven; and then first I saw a few tears drop from them. I gave language to all this. It spoke a leffon of faith, of piety, and refignation. I went away forrowful, but my forrow was neither ungentle nor unmanly; caft on this world a glance rather of pity than of enmity; on the next a look of humbleness and hope. Such, I am perfuaded, will commonly be the effect of cenes like that I have described; on minds neither frigid nor unthinking; for of feelings like thefe, the gloom of a sceptic is as little fufceptible as the levity o the giddy. There needs a certain pliancy of the mind, which fociety alone can give, though its vices often destroy, to render us capable of that gentle melancholy which makes forrow pleasant, and affliction useful. If the influence of fuch a call to thought, can only fmother in its birth, one allurement to evil, or con firm one wavering purpose to virtue, I fhall not have unjustly commended that occafional indulgence of penfivenefs and forrow, which will thus be rendered not only one of the refinements, but one of the improve. ments of life. A NOBLE EXAMPLE OF VIRTUE AND FORTITULE, IN THE HISTORY OF FELICITAS, THE MARTYR, AMONG all the female fex, who are candidates for the admiration of pofterity, the lady wliofe hiftory I now offer is among the foremost. In those early periods, when our religion was as yet but thinly diffeminated through the world; when the tyrant frowned, the gibbet threatened, and all the laws of every country seemed armed with vengeance to oppose it, then, bravely to affert the caufe of Chriftianity might dignify the greatest hero; but how much greater is the praife, when a feeble woman boldly afferts her Master's cause, and for his fake, gives up to the executioner, not only her own perfon, but the perfons of her feven fons, all remarkable for their courage, fidelity, beauty, and unerring virtue. Felicitas was born at Rome, in the reign of Trajan the emperor, at a time when the general perfecution against against the Chriftians was beginning to fubfide. This interval of reft to Chriftianity ferved to fpread its doctrines, and invigorate its profeffors for any future contingent calamity. Felicitas was the daughter of a Roman fenator, who had been formerly converted himself, and gave all his family a Chriftian education: But this daughter in particular engaged his greatest attention. She was the child of his age, and the object, next to heaven, of his peculiar care. She was equally remarkable for fenfe and beauty, and the added virtue to both, which finishes the picture. She was fought for in marriage by perfons of the greatest eminence then in the Roman empire, and at last made choice of one, who was equally zealous in the caufe of Chriftianity with herself. This couple lived together with the utmost harmony for several years, and had feven children, all fons, who were early inftructed in the principles of their parents. The father, however, dying, and Adrian ascending the throne, the fons, in order to fupport the honour of the family, and with the confent of the mother, went to the Roman army, which was employed in ftopping the incurfions of the Parthians and Perfians, who now began to invade the empire. Upon their arrival at the army, and being dressed in uniform, Adrian, in reviewing his troops, was particularly ftruck with the exquifite form of the eldest as he paffed along, but his pleasure increased, when he faw fix more, all of whom, he knew by their faces, were brothers. He therefore demanded who they were, and being informed, made Januarius, the eldeft, the tribune of his own |