good-nature in its primitive fenfe. But if your refolutions are unalterahle, your inclinations different from any thing in me, and you can neither be thus charitable or generous as to reward fo well-grounded a paffion, I can then greatly lament my endless misfortune, and resolve never more to give trouble, or offence, where I love fo well. But, if you are not very determined to the contrary, I will chearfully ferve in great conftancy your own time, though naturally as impatient a lover as you have met with. Do not abfolutely despise the honefty and fimplicity of this heart; if you refolve against it, urge its crime in loving too much, and declare your diflike of too fond a husband. You may moft certainly oblige me fo far, as to make me conform to every thing you pleafe; for I know not how it happens, but so it is, I had much rather be your flave, than claim a fuperiority over any lady I ever faw. Your generous temper may, perhaps, defpife fo fervile a declaration; but think it is to you only I can fo far refign myself. Perhaps you may like better to be treated with the power and authority of a very husband. Indeed you may truft yourself with any person, for you have fuch winning engagements as can. footh and foften the moft contradictory temper; therefore you need not wifh a greater variety of choice: lofe as little time as poffible, for your joys will be confirmed at a time when other

people

people are to be wifhed into them by their friends. You have admirers enough, Madam, to pay you compliments; but if truths, as divine and facred as any I have found in good books, which I have been converfant with these three days, can recommend what I fay, you are beyond expreffion dear to me; and every thing you do, and fay, gives me admiration and pleafure, but when you speak my death. I have been fo very happy as to be supported by the most engaging friendship that I have yet met with in life, without which I had funk in very bitter anguish of thought long before this day. May you be bleffed with all that Heaven can fend you; and believe me to be, from my inmoft foul, dear Mifs Steele, yours, as much as poffible man can be, ESSEX MCK MEYRICKE.

My nerves, Madam, are exceeding good, for my fhaking hand is only a natural confequence of my aching heart at this juncture.

LETTER CCCLXVII. To Mifs STEELE *, in Carmarthen, South Wales. Turn at Gloucefter.

"OUT

UT of fight out of mind," is a proverb which, on many occafions, might be founded in truth. Mifs Steele, perhaps, at

prefent

* The name is cut away from this letter, which is in a different hand-writing from the four which precede, and the two

R 4

that

prefent may best know wherein it has been verified. Give me leave to affure you, it is not fo with me in respect to one who is the very grace and ornament of her fex.

Permit me, Madam, to fend you this now only as the tribute of my wifhes, where my poor fervices in times paft were, or would be now, lefs regarded. However, had you thought me worthy of that heart, which you keep reserved for fome other, happly you would have found me not the least faithful, nor the leaft fenfible of the obligation. But beauty, goodness, and goodfenfe, fuch as you are the happy mistress of, will always claim the best wishes and good-will of the most uncivilized and barbarous. But fince praise from fome, even to the most praise-worthy, will be found unacceptable; myself too conscious of the application, I fhall decline the unwelcome task.

It would be too romantic to tell you into what an abyfs of melancholy

fell into on parting

that follow. It is alfo undated; but was probably written about March, 1730, a little before the death of Mrs. Mary Steele, which happened at Briftol, of a lingering confumption, April 18. I am inclined to believe it to be from Mr. Harcourt. In a news-paper of the time is the following article: " April 28, 1730, a marriage is concluded between Mr. Harcourt, a Car"marthenshire gentleman, and the eldest daughter of Sir Ri"chard Steele." I need not add, this was equally falfe with the report of her being married to Mr. Philips. See Letters CCCLXXI. and CCCLXXIV.

+ Some words are here cut away.

from

from you (Heavens forbid the omen!) I hope no presage of any ill accident. Why could not I, the most faithful, though meaneft, of your fervants, be permitted to fee you to your journey's end? I could have returned with pleasure had I but feen you fafe; but you thought other wife, and it becomes me to be filent.

I hope her late indifpofition has left her; if not, I hope no time will be loft towards a speedy application for the recovery of her health. Her returning to the Hot-well, as fhe talked of, would be the best resolution fhe could take. I find a very fenfible benefit already by these waters. I would with pleasure meet her half-way, could I but know the time of her coming; but the fear of disobliging a lady of my acquaintance prevents me in the pleasure of waiting upon her at Carmarthen. Faireft, adieu!

LETTER

SIR,

M

CCCLXVIII †.

Y time and my thoughts are fo employed about my poor fifter (who grows

*Several words are here cut away.

worfe

This is a copy, in Lady Trevor's hand-writing, of a letter to fome friend in London. And to whom fo probable as to Mr.

> (afterwards Lord) Trevor, then eminent in the profeffion of

the

worse every day), that I could not fooner acknowledge the favour of your obliging letters. I have a true sense of what I owe you for the trouble you take in our affairs. I am glad you have brought the players to fuch good terms; and I fincerely with it may ever be as much in my power, as I am fure it will always be in my inclination, to fhew my gratitude to you for the many favours and civilities you have conferred. on my fifter, and self.

Your kind enquiry relating to Dan y park eftate, is another inftance of your friendship to me; but you will allow me the liberty to fay, that I think the fatisfaction given you fo defici ent, and so little to the purpose, that, from this moment, I take a refolution to put an abfolute ftop to that affair. Mr. George Harcourt's pretending to fend to his uncle for the particulars of an estate to be fettled upon him, which I was always made to believe was actually to be

the law, and whom fhe next year married? Letter CCCLXXI. is known to be in his hand-writing. Neither of them is dated. But on the blank leaf of the Lady's she has written what will £x it within a day or two:

*Sir Richard Steele's intereft in Drury lane Theatre became, after his death, the joint property of his two daughters, and, on the death of the younger of them, devolved to Elizabeth the elder, who fold it for no inconfiderable fum. But, as if a fatality attended the bufinefs, the attorney who received the money for her ran away with the whole, and the never received a penny.