her cheeks suffused at times with a flush, beautiful, though hectic. Her eyes remarkably lucid and full of intelligence. If the languor of disease frequently overshadowed them, they were always relumined by every observation to which she listened, on lettered excellence, on the powers of science, or the ingenuity of art. Her language, in the high Scotch accent, had every happiness of perspicuity, and always expressed rectitude of heart and susceptibility of taste.

Whenever her great and friendly physician perceived his patient's attention engaged by the conversation of the rest of the circle, he sat considering her in meditative silence, with looks that expressed,....“ You shall not die thus prematurely, "if my efforts can prevent it."

One evening, after a long and intense reverie, he said,...." Lady Northesk, an art was practised "in former years, which the medical world has 66 very long disused; that of injecting blood into "the veins by a syringe, and thus repairing the "waste of diseases like yours. Human blood, and "that of calves and sheep, were used promiscu66 ously. Superstition attached impiety to the

66

practice. It was put a stop to in England by a "bull of excommunication from some of our Pop"ish Princes, against the practitioners of sangui

66 nary injection..... That it had been practised with

success, we may, from this interdiction, fairly con"clude; else restraint upon its continuance must "have been superfluous. We have a very ingeni

66

ous watch-maker here, whom I think I could "instruct to form a proper instrument for the purpose, if you choose to submit to the experiment." .....She replied cheerfully, "that she had not the "least objection, if he thought it eligible.”

Miss Seward then said...." If the trial should "be determined upon, perhaps Lady Northesk "would prefer a supply from an healthy human "subject, rather than from an animal. My health "is perfect, neither am I conscious of any lurking "disease, hereditary or accidental. I have no dread "of the lancet, and will gladly spare, from time to

time, such a portion from my veins to Lady Nor"thesk, as Dr. Darwin shall think proper to inject."

He seemed much pleased with the proposal, and his amiable patient expressed gratitude, far above the just claim of the circumstance. Dr. Darwin said he would consult his pillow upon it.

The next day, when Miss S. called upon Lady N. the Doctor took her previously into his study, telling her, that he had resigned all thoughts of trying the experiment upon Lady Northesk; that it had occurred to him as a last resource, to save an

excellent woman, whose disorder, he feared, was beyond the reach of medicine; "but,” added he, "the construction of a proper machine is so nice an "affair, the least failure in its power of acting so "hazardous, the chance at last from the experiment "so precarious, that I do not choose to stake my

reputation upon the risque. If she die, the world "will say I killed Lady Northesk, though the "London and Bath physicians have pronounced her "case hopeless, and sent her home to expire. "They have given her a great deal too much medi"cine, I shall give her very little. Their system "of nutritious food, their gravy jellies, and strong "wines, I have already changed for milk, vegeta❝bles and fruit. No wines ever; no meat, no strong "broth, at present. If this alteration of diet prove "unavailing, her family and friends must lose her."

It was not unavailing; she gathered strength under the change from day to day. The disease abated, and in three weeks time she pursued her journey to Scotland, a convalescent, full of hope for herself, of grateful veneration towards her physician, whose rescuing skill had saved her from the grave; and full, also, of overrating thankfulness to Miss S. for the offer she had made. With her Lady Northesk regularly corresponded from that time till her sudden and deplorable death. All Lady N.'s letters

spoke of completely recovered health and strength. She sent Miss Seward a present of some beautiful Scotch pebbles for a necklace, picked up by her own hands in her Lord's park, and polished at Edinburgh.

Lady Northesk might have lived to old age, the blessing of her family and friends. Alas! the time had passed by in which Miss Seward was accustomed to expect a letter from her friend!

Inquiry taught her that Lady Northesk had perished by the dreadfully-frequent accident of having set fire to her clothes. Lady Marianne Carnegie wrote to Miss S. the year after, and continued to honour her with several letters while her Ladyship lived with her father at Ethic House, on the ocean's edge. It was there that she dedicated many of her youthful years to the pious endeavour of mitigating Lord Northesk's deep anguish for the loss of his Lady, which had induced him inflexibly to renounce all society except with his own family. That might be said of Ethic House which Dr. Johnson said of the Isle of Raasay, in the Hebrides. "Without were the dark rocks, the "roaring winds, and tumultuous deep;" but alas. for Lady Marianne! it could not also be said, as of Raasay, that "within were the social comforts, "the voice of gaiety, the dance, and the song.”

Yet did she support, with uncomplaining patience, in the flower of her youth, this deep solitude; this monotony of natural objects, in which little variety could be found, beyond the change of smiling and frowning seas, the hushed and the bellowing waters.

In the autumn of this year Mrs. Pole of Radburn was taken ill; her disorder a violent fever. Dr. Darwin was called in, and perhaps never, since the death of Mrs. Darwin, prescribed with such deep anxiety. Not being requested to continue in the house through the ensuing night, which he apprehended might prove critical, he passed the remaining hours till day-dawn beneath a tree opposite her apartment, watching the passing and repassing lights in the chamber. During the period in which a life he so passionately valued was in danger, he paraphrased Petrarch's celebrated sonnet, narrating a dream, whose prophecy was accomplished by the death of Laura. It took place the night on which the vision arose amid his slumber. Dr. Darwin extended the thoughts of that sonnet into the following elegy:

Dread Dream, that, hovering in the midnight air,

Clasp'd with thy disky wing, my aching head,

While, to Imagination's startled ear,

Toll'd the slow bell, for bright Eliza dead.