The mind sickens at the continuation of a narrative, so replete with folly, and so offensive to every thing which piety, delicacy, and human obligations render sacred. The lady, on her return to this country, was considered as the wife of her American lover, and in this character, on account of her talents, which nobody will presume to call in question, was visited by several very respectable females. But when in open defiance, and in contempt of all decency and good order, she cohabited with the author of P⸺ J⸺, our precise sturdy countrywomen thought that this was carrying the jest somewhat too far, and accordingly withdrew themselves from her acquaintance. Such a proceeding at first excited the astonishment of the lady, and the scorn of the philosopher; indeed the latter pretended to make it a matter of ridicule, but all would not do; and it is understood that the lady condescended to use her influence with her lover, and, in spite of his public avowed hostility to marriage, he became her legal husband. The union did not long continue; it was dissolved by that which dissolves all things—the unrelenting hand of death. Mrs. G. died in child-bed, at no great distance from the time of the marriage ceremony having been performed. No one would surely speak with levity of human sorrows; and it is impossible not to revere the grief which is excited by the irreparable loss of relatives and friends. Yet there was something in the dogmas and maxims of the author of P⸺ J⸺, so very extraordinary, representing so contemptuously the tender ties of nature, and what have hitherto been regarded as the strong obligations of duty, that his conduct after his domestic privation, necessarily excited some degree of wonder.