the other side to Mrs. Brent as usual. I believe I have not paid her this great while. Go, play at cards. **** Love Pdfr. Night, MD, FW, Me, Lele. The six odd shillings, tell Mrs. Brent, are for her new year's gift. I am just now told, that poor dear lady Ashburnham, the duke of Ormond's daughter, died yesterday at her country house. The poor creature was with child. She was my greatest favourite, and I am in excessive concern for her loss. I hardly knew a more valuable person on all accounts. You must have heard me talk of her. I am afraid to see the duke and duchess. She was naturally very healthy; I fear has been thrown away for want of care. Pray condole with me. 'Tis extremely moving[1]. Her lord is a puppy; and I shall never think it worth my while to be troubled with him, now he has lost all that was valuable in his possession; yet, I think he used her pretty well. I hate life, when I think it exposed to such accidents; and to see so many thousand wretches burdening the earth, while such as her die, makes me think God did never intend life for a blessing. Farewell.
- ↑ From these expressions, and those he uses in the account of the duchess of Hamilton's affliction on the death of her husband, Swift appears to have had a strong sympathy in the distress of others; which he has generally, even by his advocates, been supposed to want.
