NOTES TO LETTER XX.

Note 1, page 121, line 5.

Where thrift and lavender, and lad's love bloom. The lad's or boy's love of some counties is the plant southernwood, the artemisia abrotanum of botanists.

Note 2, page 125, line 17.

Of some vile plot, and every wo adieu!

As this incident points out the work alluded to, I wish it to be remembered, that the gloomy tenour, the querulous melancholy of the story, is all I censure. The language of the writer is often animated, and is, I believe, correct; the characters well drawn, and the manners described from real life; but the perpetual occurrence of sad events, the protracted list of teasing and perplexing mischances, joined with much waspish invective, unallayed by pleasantry or sprightliness, and these continued through many hundred pages, render publications, intended for amusement and executed with ability, heavy and displeasing:—you find your favourite persons happy in the end; but they have teased you so much with their perplexities by the way, that you were frequently disposed to quit them in their distresses.

THE BOROUGH.

LETTER XXI.

THE POOR OF THE BOROUGH.

ABEL KEENE.

Cœpis meliùs quàm desines: ultima primis
Cedunt. Dissimiles: hic vir et ille puer.

Ovid. Deianira Herculi.

Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that, in the latter times, some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of devils.

Epistle to Timothy.

Abel, a poor Man, Teacher of a School of the lower Order; is placed in the Office of a Merchant; is alarmed by Discourses of the Clerks; unable to reply; becomes a Convert; dresses, drinks, and ridicules his former Conduct-The Remonstrance of his Sister, a devout Maiden-Its Effect-The Merchant dies-Abel returns to Poverty unpitied; but relieved—His abject Condition-His Melancholy-He wanders about: is found-His own Account of himself, and the Revolutions in his Mind.

THE BOROUGH.

LETTER XXI.

ABEL KEENE.

A QUIET Simple man was Abel Keene,
He meant no harm, nor did he often mean:
He kept a school of loud rebellious boys,
And growing old, grew nervous with the noise;
When a kind merchant hired his useful pen,
And made him happiest of accompting men;
With glee he rose to every easy day,

When half the labour brought him twice the pay.
There were young clerks, and there the merchant's

son,

Choice spirits all, who wish'd him to be one;

It must, no question, give them lively joy,
Hopes long indulged, to combat and destroy;
At these they level'd all their skill and strength,-
He fell not quickly, but he fell at length: