The New-Jersey gazette — Burlington [N.J.], 1785-08-29 00:00:00, page 1

[Vol. VIII.] T HE [Numb. 3 8i.]
NEW-JERSEY GAZETTE.
Abe following beautiful letter, written by the late Dr.
Samuel Johnson, on the death of his wife, is extrac
ted from the $ life of that celebrated author, just pub
li/bed; as it bears tejiimon, to the Doctor's princi
ples as a good hu/band and a sincere cbrijlian, and
to his character an excellent writer, we doubt not but
it's perusal will gratify many of cur readers.
On the DEATH of his WIFE.
By the late Dr. Jobnfon.
-1& NOTWITHSTANDING the warnings
of philosophers, and the daily exam-
P' es °' I°^s an d misfortunes which
I ide forces upon us, such is the abforp
tion of our thoughts in the business of
the present day—such the resignation of our reason
to empty hopes of future felicity; or such our un
willingness to forefee what we dread, that every ca
lamity comes suddenly upon us, and not only presses
us as a burthen; but ctulhes as a blow.
There are evils which happen out of the common
course of nature, against which it is no reproach not
to be provided. 3 flaffi of lightning intercepts the
traveller in his way The concussion of an earthquake
heaps the ruin of cities upon their inhabitants: But
other miseries time brings, though silently, yet visi
bly, forward by its even lapse, which yet approach
ts unfeeo, because we turn our eyes away, and seize
us unresisted, because we could not arm ourselves
against them, but by setting them befoie us.
That it is in vain to shrink from what cannot be
avoided, and to hide that from ourselves which must
some time be found, is a truth which we all know,
but which we all negled; and perhaps none more
than the speculative reasoner whose thoughts are al
ways from home, whose eye wanders over life, whose
fancy dances after meteors of happiness kindled by
itfelf, and who examines every thing rather than his
own state
Nothing is more evident than that the decays of
age mutt terminate in death. Yet there is ho man
(fays fully) who does not believe that he may yet live
another year; and there is none who does not, upon the
fame principle, hope another year for his parent or
his friend; but the fallacy will be in time detected;
the last year, the hit day mull come; it lias come,
and is past. 6 Fh@ life which made my own life
pleasant is at an end, and the gates of death are shut
upon my profpe&s.' .
The loss of a friend on whom the heart was fixed,
to whom every wish and endeavour tended, is a state
of desolation in which the mind looks abroad impa
tient of itfelf, and finds nothing but emptiness and
horror. The blameless life, the artless tenderness,
the pious simplicity, the modest resignation, the pati
ent sickness, and the quiet death, are remembered
only to add value to the loss—to aggravate regret
for what cannot be amended—to deepen sorrow for
what cannot be recalled.
These are the calamities by which Providence gra
dually difemgages us from the lov^of life—Other
evils fortitude may repeal, or hope may mitigate;
but irreparable privation leaves nothing to exercise
resolution, or flatter expectation. The dead cannot
return, and nothing is left us here but languifhment
and grief.
Yet such is the course of nature, that whoever
lives long, must outlive those whom he loves and ho
nours. Such is the condition of our present exist
ence, that life must one time leave its associations,
and every inhabitant of the earth must walk down
ward to the grave alone, and unregarded, without any
partner of his joy or grief, without any interested
witness of his misfortunes or success.
Misfortunes indeed he may yet feel, for where is
the bottom of the misery of man? But what is suc
cess to him who has none to enjoy it? Happiness is
not found in felf-contemplation, it is perceived only
when it is reflected from another.
We know little of the state of departed fouls, be
cause such knowledge is not necessary to a good life.
Reason deserts us at the brink of the grave, and gives
no further intelligence. Revelation is not wholly
silent. " There is joy in the Angels of Heaven
" over one finner that repenteth;" and surely this
N
TRENTON: Printed by ISAAC COLLINS, Printer to the State.
MONDAY, August 29, 1785.
joy is not incommunicable to fouls disentangled from
the body, and made like Angels !
Let hope therefore di&ate what revelation does
not confute— that ‘ the union of fouls may still re
main ;' and that we who are struggling with fin, sor
row and infirmities, may have our part in the attenti
on and kindness of those who have finifhed their
course, and are now receiving their reward.
These are the great occasions which force the mind
to take refuge in religion: When we have no help
in ourselves, what can remain but that we look up to
a higher and greater power; and to what hope may
we not raise our eyes and hearts, when we confider,
That the greateJi power is the left ?
Surely there is no man who thus afßidled does not
seek fuccour in the gospel, whica ' has brought lite
and immortality to light! ’ The precepts of Epicurus,
who teaches us to endure what the laws of the Uni
verse make necessary, may silence but not content us.
Ihe dilates of Zeno who commands us to look with
idifference on external things, may riiipofe us to con
ceal our sorrow, but cannot affaage it. Real a^evia
tion of the loss of friends, and rational tranquility in
the profpe& of our own diflblution, can be received
only from the promises of him " in whose hands are
life and death," and from the assurance of another
and better state, in which all tears will be wiped from
our eyes, and the whole foul shall be filled with joy.
Philosophy may infuft flubbornnefs, but religion only
can give patience.
Singular inflance of Beneficence that happened in
the month of May last, in Germany.
A N inhabitant of a burgh r the circle of Ertzge
2. A burgh, a mountainous country, more subject
to a scarcity of provisions than other cantons of the
electorate of Saxony, found himfelf, after supporting
his family on a small provision of oats, reduced to
the utmost misery, by a baker's refuting, to whom
he owned nine crowns, to supply him with bread,
unless he was paid. The wretch, thus brought to a
date of despair, betook himfelf to a neighbouring
wood, where he flopped a pedlar, who, without
making any defence, delivered to him a purse of one
and twenty crowns. But his heart did not permit
him to extend his crime beyond his wants, or rather
the wants of his family. He would hare none of
the traveller's money but barely what his necessities
required. He returns the remainder, overwhelmed
with remorse. Too guilty in his own eyes, it would
have been a consolation to him, if he appeared less
so to the eyes of the man he had robbed. He be
seeches him with fobs and tears to come with him to
his habitation, to be a witness of the cause that urged
him to guilt, which might perhaps plead his pardon.
Ihe poor and honed peddlar fees nothing more in
him than a wretch as honest and as poor as himfelf.
«is sensibility carries him along, he follows the pea
sant, enters with him into his hut, and there finds a
wife and children, whose deplorable filiation de
mands his companion for a husband, for a father,
for all of them. He cannot think that his substance
had been forcibly taken from him, that his fife had
been threatened: that unfortunate family becomes
His own; he is their friend, their comforter, their
benefactor, their faviour. His whole fortune, all the
money he had fared with so much trouble and anx
iety, the one and twenty crowns, he gives away,
and forces the peasant to accept them. After drip
ping himfelf of his all to relieve the present wants of
that unfortunate family, he teftifies no other regret,
neither can he, but that of not being in a conditi
on to prevent the wants it might in future be in
dread of.
^^-^>¥<^¥«»^^^x^o^^TT^^e«»
A Journal of Elizabeth Woodvile, wife afterwards
of Edward IV — written by her before her firfl mar
riage : —An excellent lesson to she fair sex of the pre
sent age.
MONDAY morning—Rose at four o'clock, and
helped Katharine to milk the cows.
Six o'clock—Breakfafted.
Seven o'clock—Went out with the lady Duchess,
my mother, into the court-yard; fed five and thirty
men and women, and chid Roger very severely for
expressing some diffatis fadion in attending us with tht
broken meat.
Ten o'clock—Went to dinner.—-John Gray, one
of our visitants—a most comely youth—but what'6
that to me—-a virtuous maiden should be entirely un
der the direction of her parents.—John eat but lit
tle—stole a great many tender looks at me.
Three o'clock—Poor farmer Robiofon's house
burnt down by accidental fire.—John Gray proposed
a subscription among the company for the farmer's
relief, and gave no less than five pounds himfelf to
this benevolent intention.—Memorandum, never saw
him look so coroely as at that moment.
Four o'clock—Went to prayers.
Six o'clock—red the poultry.
Seven o'clock—Supper on the table-—delayed to
that very late hour on account of poor farmer Robin
son's misfortune.
What a striking difference between the character
of ladies of those days, and that of out modern wo
men of fafhion!
.^^^^^fc^cfccfocfo cfo ofccfocfccfocfc
Foreign Intelligence,
fy^^fot—
P A R I S, June 27.
Ihe queen made her publick entry yesterday a
midst the acclamations of the people. Her majesty
was accompanied by madame countess d'Artois, ma
dame Elizabeth of France, the duchess de Chartres,
and the duchess of Bourbon, and went dire&ly to
the Cathedral church of Notte Dame, to return
thanks for the birth of his royal highness the duke of
Normandy. In coming out of the church her majes
ty went to Genevieve, to join in the publick prayers
for obtaining an end of the drought that has so long
prevailed. She afterwards dined at the castle of the
fhuilleries, and in the evening the city was illumina
ted; at midnight a fire-work was played off before
the hotel of the count d'Aranda, the Spanish ambas
sador.
L ONDO N, May 9 .
It is said that M. de Beaumarchais's account for
goods furnifhed to the Americans on the security of
the French government, having been fettled at,
1,600,000 livres, M. de Calonne has caused that
sum to be remitted to him, with 200,000 for the
damaged effeds, as also for his ships employed in the
royal navy, or as tranfporfs, &c.
The French have four firft rates upon the flocks,
one of which is very nearly the dimensions of the
Ville de Paris.
Count de Graffe has not recovered the smallest
degree of popularity among his countrymen.
Mr. Neckar, returned from his travels, has fixed
his residence near Arpajon, only eight leagues from
Paris. His living so near the court, joined to the
good opinion which the king entertains of the Finan
cier's abilities and writings, seems to prognosticate
that he will soon be taken again into favour, of which
two thirds of the nation seem desirous.
Extract of a letter from Paris, April 30.
" A girl of the town in this city found a pocket
book in the street, which on infpe&ion ihe found to
contain notes of the Caiffe de 1' Efcompte, to the
amount of 182,000 livres, payable to the bea r \
Struck with the importance of the loss which the
owner must sustain, the girl carried the pocket-book
with its contents to M. Ie Noir, Lieutenant of the.
Police. The magistrate surprised at such an instance of
generosity, asked her who the was? She said she was
of a good family, whom she had disgraced. M. Id
Noir, delighted with her openness as well as generosi
ty, took her address. The proprietor of the book
loft no time in repairing to the magistrate to assist him
in the recovery of his property. M. Ie Noir, sent
for the girl, and presented her and the book together
to the gentleman, relating to him at the fame time
her behaviour. The gentleman demanded in rapture,
why: reward she would receive for her generosity and