IT can hardly be deemed necessary to say much by way of apology for offering to the Public the Memoirs of so high and excellent a character as that of Mrs. CARTER, though her life was so little diversified by incident, or marked by any events but such as happen to all. The great end of biography is not so much to amuse the fancy, as to instruct and improve the mind. Very useless will be that volume, and very ill will the author of it have executed his important office, unless it leaves some other traces on the reader's heart than the recollection of a bare narrative of facts, or a diary of trite and uninteresting occurrences. Biography ought to be made subservient to nobler purposes. The good, the wise, the learned, the patriot statesman, and the patriot hero; they whose improvements in science and the arts have added to the comforts and innocent enjoy ments of life; Quique pii vates, & Phæbo digna locuti, these, and these only, should be the subjects of it. And the annals of their lives, though often perhaps "short and simple," should be written in such a manner as may serve for an example to others, as well as for their instruction and amusement. In delivering this opinion, the Author of these Memoirs has too much reason to fear that it may be urged against himself. He is indeed fully conscious of his deficiencies, more especially as the previous habits of his life, and the turn of his usual studies, have not tended to fit him for a work of this kind. He was tempted, however, to undertake it, not so much from the desire of Mrs. Carter's friends, (though that was in several instances strongly expressed) as from his own wish that a just and true account should appear of one to whom he was so nearly and affectionately attached, and whose life was so exemplary, as well as amiable. In this respect, and in this alone, scarcely any other person was equally well qualified, as he had resided with her for so large a portion of his life, and was left in possession of all her papers. In this humble attempt, therefore, the Author claims no other merit, than that of having given, with the most scrupulous regard to truth, such particulars of her education, life, and studies, as came within his own knowledge, or from other sources of information, assisted and elucidated by some of her own letters. It is still however his hope, that the work may not be wholly useless; and that the contemplation of so much piety, virtue, and learning, may be attended with better effects than the gratification of mere curiosity; that her precepts and example may serve to rouse the indolent, while they confirm and strengthen the good. The Author's distance from the Press, and his bad health during most part of the last winter, will be considered, he hopes, as an apology for some inaccuracies in the Work itself, as well as in the Printing. The following are the principal ERRATA. Page 23, 1. 19, for sent read went 48, l. 1, note, for de read D. 62, 1. 3 from bottom, for le read la 93, 1. 2, for 151. read 15s. 139, 1. 11, after situated insert opposite 141, 1. 5, for Lord George Lyttelton read George Lord Lyttelton 299, 1. 2, note, for the second that read the 373, for on Midnight read at Midnight 386, 1. 13, for her read here 432, 1. 8, after every insert painful -538, 1. 7, for illusion read allusion 566, 1. 29, after saying insert &c. 567, 1. 2, after of insert avto THTO μένει 1. 22, after besides insert peva 626, 1. 24, for indentity read identity The Reader is also requested to correct an error in the Date of Mrs. Carter's Birth on the Portrait, and to read born December 16th, instead of the 10th. THE great difficulty of rendering the memoirs of a life, wholly devoted to letters, interesting, has already been often observed. Very different from those of Statesmen, Heroes, and Monarchs, concerning which the author may often say, inopem me copia fecit, and of which the most arduous task is to know what events he should select. In the lives of many of the good and learned, there are no events from which to choose, no remarkable circumstances to engage the attention, and no adventures to amuse. Nothing, probably, happens to them, but what is common to all men; their hours passed in the "cool sequestered vale of life," the secretum iter et fallentis semita vita, afford but little to relate, and not much to observe ; and even that little will generally fail to interest those who are engaged in either the gaieties or the business of worldly pursuits. An author of genius may indeed extract amusement and instruction from annals the most barren of event: he may find, like the moralist of Shakespeare, sermons in stones, and good in every thing. But few are possessed of such fascinating powers; and of the many writers who have endeavoured to |