achievements. Having attained the topmost round' of that learning which this seminary was capable of bestowing, and going on, as I was, in my twelfth year, I thought it time to aim at being the pattern of the excellence I had pictured; and to become myself the hero of my own celebration. Like the son of Fingal, I now resolved to sing the achievements of myself and my own companions. --quæque ipse miserrima vidi, Et quorum pars magna fuit. And if in the ardour of narration, I by chance, had drained the sources of reality, and emptied the stores of truth, I betook myself, without hesitation, to ransacking the riches of fiction; and trusted implicitly to the inexhaustible fertility of my own invention. Many a time have I entertained, or perhaps tired, an indulgent audience, with long accounts of my miraculous escapes from dangers of my own raising; and extricated myself, with admirable address, from situations of my own contriving. Often have I, for the sake of displaying my heroism, and telling a good story, endangered my precious neck, by leaping fancied ditches, and climbing imaginary walls, for the purpose of despoiling fictitious apple-trees, or nonexistent gooseberry-trees. Luckily for my safety, and perhaps for my reputation, I was rescued from the midst of these imminent deadly' dangers by a removal to Eton. From her to have sucked the milk of science,' to have contracted for her a pious fondness and veneration, which will bind me for ever to her interests; and perhaps (pardon, kind reader, the licensed vanity of a periodical writer abandoning himself on his deathbed to the fascination of egotism), to have improved by my earnest endeavours her younger part of the present generation, is to me a source of infinite pride and satisfaction. But I find myself growing weak, and am unable 6 enough to think, that it is very possible that both should be original. I have however been once on the point of dropping the design, when it was represented to me by a friend, on whose judgment I had great reliance, that I should act unworthily as a biographer, and ungenerously as a friend, in endeavouring to reduce the name of Mr. GRIFFIN by such a publication to the level of Joe Miller and Tom Brown; and in rashly bringing to light, such uninteresting and trifling effusions of momentary mirth, or occasional levity, as would but detract from the weight of his other performances; and such, as from their own intrinsic merit, could only pass without ridicule, when they passed without public observation.' THE EDITOR. B. N° 40. MONDAY, JULY 30, 1787. Amicorum munus est, quæ voluerit, meminisse, It is the office of our friends, to remember the requests of the deceased, and faithfully execute his commissions. THE melancholy event predicted in a late number has taken place.-GREGORY GRIFFIN is no more. About five minutes three seconds after nine o'clock on Monday evening, his friends were alarmed by a hasty summons to his bedside. The good gentleman seemed to be perfectly sensible that the moment of his dissolution drew near. It has been usually customary with the biographers of eminent men, when drawing towards the conclusion of their hero's existence, to make the world ac→ quainted with every little symptom attending his exit. But the effects of a cathartic, or the operation of an emetic, have been too minutely investigated, and too frequently discussed, to be any longer interest suspected, that there is some reason for the omission; and to say truth, so there is. It must be confessed, that I have for some time intended (and have collected materials for the purpose), as the eyes of the world must infallibly be fixed on his exit, to favour it, after Mr. G's demise, with a collection of Anecdotes, Stories, Smart Sayings, Witty Repartees. Funny Jokes, and Shining Sentiments, under the comprehensive title of GRIFFINIANA. Of this work the following extracts will give a sufficient specimen. Mr. GRIFFIN was a man of great humour, coming one day into the parlour, where Pompey, the Editor's little dog, was lying and basking before the fire, "I protest, Pompey," said he, " you are almost as lazy a dog as myself!!!" "The voluntary sallies of Mr. GRIFFIN's wit were only to be equalled by the readiness of his repartees of this the two following anecdotes, will give evidence. Mr. GRIFFIN, walking one day in the street, was suddenly accosted by a friend of his, who, pulling off his hat, addressed him with " How do you do, Mr. GRIFFIN?" Mr. GRIFFIN, without the smallest hesitation, or embarrassment, instantly retorted "Pretty well, I thank you, Sir; I hope you are well?" Another time Mr. GRIFFIN was attacked in a large company by a lady, who thinking to catch him unprepared, asked him very sharply, "how much two and two made?"-"Two and two, Madam," said he, with great quickness, and without betraying the smallest confusion, " make four." I will be candid enough to own, that the idea of this publication was borrowed from one of a similar kind, on a man of almost equal eminence with him who is to be the subject of these memoirs. But though there may be a near resemblance between the anecdotes here set down, and some which are related of that gentleman, the reader will, I hope, have fairness enough to think, that it is very possible that both should be original. I have however been once on the point of dropping the design, when it was represented to me by a friend, on whose judgment I had great reliance, that I should act unworthily as a biographer, and ungenerously as a friend, in endeavouring to reduce the name of Mr. GRIFFIN by such a publication to the level of Joe Miller and Tom Brown; and in rashly bringing to light, such uninteresting and trifling effusions of momentary mirth, or occasional levity, as would but detract from the weight of his other performances; and such, as from their own intrinsic merit, could only pass without ridicule, when they passed without public observation.' B. THE EDITOR. N° 40. MONDAY, JULY 30, 1787. Amicorum munus est, quæ voluerit, meminisse, It is the office of our friends, to remember the requests of the deceased, and faithfully execute his commissions. THE melancholy event predicted in a late number has taken place.-GREGORY GRIFFIN is no more. About five minutes three seconds after nine o'clock on Monday evening, his friends were alarmed by a hasty summons to his bedside. The good gentleman seemed to be perfectly sensible that the moment of his dissolution drew near. It has been usually customary with the biographers of eminent men, when drawing towards the conclusion of their hero's existence, to make the world acquainted with every little symptom attending his exit. But the effects of a cathartic, or the operation of an emetic, have been too minutely investigated, and too frequently discussed, to be any longer interest ing; and the various circumstances of this kind which marked the termination of Mr. GRIFFIN's existence, would be of as little consequence to the literary as medical world. These therefore we shall omit mentioning. 'My friends!' said he, as we stood round him, raising himself a little on his left elbow, while the bookseller's boy placed a pillow under his head, We knew there was but one way, for his nose was as sharp as a pen,-'my friends,' said he, 'I could not quit this world satisfactorily to my own conscience, without acknowledging my obligations to you. I die, it is true, at an age, when I might, without presumption, have hoped for the enjoyment of a protracted existence. But I have long foreseen this event, and am happy to be prepared to meet it. It is a great consolation to me, that I leave you behind me, the defenders of my conduct, in that official character which I have during my life-time supported. It has been my endeavour to blend the instruction of my fellow-citizens with their entertainment; to temper my censure with lenity; and to laugh away their follies, rather than to scourge their vices. If, in any one of these points, my success has been equal to my wishes, the end of my existence is fully answered. 'It has indeed so happened, that contrary to my expectations, my name has found its way beyond the limits of our little republic. Even there, cast as I was on the wide World, I have met with such a reception, as to convince me, that the tendency of my plan has been warmly approved; however inadequate may have appeared its execution. And if by these means, I have added one more citizen to our commonwealth, or contributed to diffuse a patriotic love of Eton among its present members, then indeed shall I be proud to congratulate myself on the success of my endeavours. But I feel my strength going from me.'-The publisher pulled out his pocket-handkerchief Adieu!'-the publisher applied his pocket |