ft any expedient untried, by which he might be cut
off from the possibility of supporting life. The same disposition she
endeavoured to diffuse among all those over whom nature or fortune gave
her any influence; and, indeed, succeeded too well in her design; but
could not always propagate her effrontery with her cruelty; for some of
those, whom she incited against him, were ashamed of their own conduct,
and boasted of that relief which they never gave him.

In this censure I do not indiscriminately involve all his relations; for
he has mentioned, with gratitude, the humanity of one lady, whose name I
am now unable to recollect, and to whom, therefore, I cannot pay the
praises which she deserves, for having acted well, in opposition to
influence, precept, and example.

The punishment which our laws inflict upon those parents who murder
their infants, is well known; nor has its justice ever been contested;
but, if they deserve death who destroy a child in its birth, what pains
can be severe enough for her who forbears to destroy him, only to
inflict sharper miseries upon him; who prolongs his life, only to make
him miserable; and who exposes him, without care and without pity, to
the malice of oppression, the caprices of chance, and the temptations of
poverty; who rejoices to see him overwhelmed with calamities; and, when
his own industry, or the charity of others, has enabled him to rise, for
a short time, above his miseries, plunges him again into his former
distress?

The kindness of his friends not affording him any constant supply, and
the prospect of improving his fortune by enlarging his acquaintance
necessarily leading him to places of expense, he found it necessary[62]
to endeavour, once more, at dramatick poetry, for which he was now
better qualified, by a more extensive knowledge and longer observation.
But having been unsuccessful in comedy, though rather for want of
opportunities than genius, he resolved now to try whether he should not
be more fortunate in exhibiting a tragedy.

The story which he chose for the subject, was that of sir Thomas
Overbury, a story well adapted to the stage, though, perhaps, not far
enough removed from the present age to admit properly the fictions
necessary to complete the plan; for the mind, which naturally loves
truth, is always most offended with the violation of those truths of
which we are most certain; and we, of course, conceive those facts most
certain, which approac