ther he removed with his regiment; and going to the above mentioned waters, the benefit whereof he had already experienced, he fell into one of thoſe fainting fits, to which he had for ſome time been ſubject, in a ſmall village, and was utterly deſtitute of all the neceſſaries of life, ’till ſome charitable fathers of a Bernardine convent, offered him what aſſiſtance their houſe afforded. The duke accepted their kind propoſal, upon which they removed him to their convent, and adminiſtered all the relief in their power. Under this hoſpitable roof, after languiſhing a week, died the duke of Wharton, without one friend, or acquaintance to cloſe his eyes. His funeral was performed in the ſame manner in which the fathers inter thoſe of their own fraternity.
Thus we have endeavoured to exhibit an adequate picture of the duke of Wharton, a man whoſe life was as ſtrongly chequered with the viciſſitudes of fortune, as his abilities were various and aſtoniſhing. He is an inſtance of the great imbecility of intellectual powers, when once they ſpurn the dictates of prudence, and the maxims of life. With all the luſtre of his underſtanding, when his fortune was wafted, and his circumſtances low, he fell into contempt; they who formerly worſhipped him, fled from him, and deſpiſed his wit when attended with poverty. So true is it that,
Want is the ſcorn of every wealthy fool,
And wit in rags is turn’d to ridicule.
The duke of Wharton ſeems to have lived as if the world ſhould be new modelled for him; for he would conform to none of the rules, by which the little happineſs the world can yield, is to be attained. But we ſhall not here enlarge on his character, as we can preſent it to the reader, drawn in the moſt lively manner, by the maſter-
