stle, written by the Electress in French, but which we shall here
present to the reader in English.

Hanover June 25, 1710.

LADY CHUDLEIGH,

You have done me a very great pleasure in letting
me know by your agreeable book, that there
is such a one as you in England, and who has so
well improved herself, that she can, in a fine manner,
communicate her sentiments to all the world.
As for me I do not pretend to deserve the commendations
you give me, but by the esteem which I
have of your merit, and of your good sense, I will
be always entirely

Your affectionate friend

to serve you,

SOPHIA ELECTRICE.

At the end of the second volume of the duke of Wharton's poems, are five
letters from lady Chudleigh, to the revd. Mr. Norris of Bemmerton, and
Mrs. Eliz. Thomas, the celebrated Corinna of Dryden.

She wrote several other things, which, though not printed, are carefully
preserved in the family, viz. two Tragedies, two Operas, a Masque, some
of Lucian's Dialogues, translated into Verse, Satirical Reflexions on
Saqualio, in imitation of one of Lucian's Dialogues, with several small
Poems on various Occasions.

She had long laboured under the pains of a rheumatism, which had
confined her to her chamber a considerable time before her death, which
happened at Ashton in Devonshire, December 15, 1710, in the 55th year of
her age, and lies buried there without either monument or inscription.

The poetical Works of this Lady consist chiefly in the Song of the Three
Children Paraphrased, some Pindaric Odes, Familiar Epistles, and Songs.
We shall select as a specimen, a Dialogue between Lucinda and Marissa,
occasioned by the death of her Ladyship's Daughter, in the early bloom
of her youth. It is of a very melancholy cast, and expressive of the
grief me must have felt upon that tender occasion. Her ladyship has
informed us in her preface to her poems, that she generally chose
subjects suited to her present temper of mind. 'These pieces (says she)
were the employments of my leisure hours, the innocent amusements of a
solitary life; in them the reader will find a picture of my mind, my
sentiments all laid open to their view; they will sometimes see me
chearful, pleased, sedate, and quiet; at other times, grieving,
complaining, and struggling with my passions, blaming myself,
endeavouring to pay homage to my reason, and resolving for the future
with a decent calmness, an unshaken constancy, and