prefervation of his health, was the fummit of my wishes. His prefent fituation will not indeed permit him to extricate me from the debts, with which I am encumbered; but he has fettled a yearly income upon me. And were not those incumbrances a great abatement to my happiness, 1 fhould think myself bleft in the patronage of one of the firft of women, and the affection of the beft of fons, though bereft of health, and deprived of my favourite amufement.

Among the numerous letters that I have received from unknown correspondents, fince the publication of my apolegy, I cannot forbear gi ving you the contents of one, the fingularity of which, I own, much furprized me. Two gentlemen called at my lodgings, one evening, and left a letter, with a particular injunction that it fhould be delivered into my own hand. Upon opening it, I found only thefe few words, God for ever bless you. Some company, who happened to be with me at the time, seemed to think, that fomething more was intended by it, than merely to convey me a bleffing, and advised me to mention it in one of the morning prints, but couched in fuch terms as that the writer alone might understand the purport of it. This I accordingly

did;

did; but as I heard no more of it, I fuppofe it came from a person, whose time hanging heavy on his hands, wifhed to divert himself by awakening my curiofity.

I likewise wrote to Jamaica; but as I have received no answer, must suppose the intelligence I received from the visitor mentioned in the beginning of my Letter to be of the fame nature. But I am at a loss, when I reflect upon the circumftance, to conceive what the gentleman's inducement for thus leading an unfortunate individual into a fool's paradife, could be.

When the notes I had lately given became due, as it was not in my power to discharge them, I prefumed to write to the gentleman, who, as I told you in a former Letter, with a donation he fent me, likewife fent me word to call upon his purse on any future occafion. I certainly could mean no farther to intrude upon thofe generous feelings I had fo recently experienced, than for a temporary relief, until by œconomy I should be enabled to repay what he might be induced by his humanity to lend me. I, however, received no anfwer to my letter. As his former liberality had been quite unfolicited, I imagined this filence might proceed from his not

being at home. This induced me to write again, but with no better fuccefs.

I have thus, my dear Madam, given you a continuation of the moft material incidents that happened to me fince the date of my last Letter; and by them you will fee, that my life ftill continues to be chequered; that fometimes fortune. feems to be in good humour with me, and showers her favours upon me, and at the fame time, that disappointments most surely fucceed. But as the fickle lady has not totally deferted me, I am not without hopes, if I can be indulged with time, of being able totally to exonerate myself from those pecuniary engagements which lie fo heavy · upon my mind.

By way of conclufion, I fend you a copy of a poetical addrefs to her Grace of Devonshire. Though very unequal to the tafk, I have ventured to exprefs my gratitude, which, like the Widow's mite, I hope will be accepted.

Lines humbly Addressed to her Grace the Duchefs of Devonshire.

What tribute can the Mufes bring,

Or how attempt her praise to fing,

The fanction of whofe high prais'd name,
Confers on bards their greatest fame?

3

Could

Could I with faithful pencil trace
That graceful mein, that lovely face,
Those eyes which shed celestial rays,

A thousand bards would claim the praise.
Of Devon, all the tuneful Nine

Have fung, in ftrains, like her divine.
Or preft by gratitude, suppose

I praise a mind that conftant glows
With all that's wise, that's great, and good,
The real wealth of noble blood;

Where can a nobler current glide,
Spencer, and Marlb`rough feeds the tide,
And Poynts, who taught the way to fame;
And ftampt with science William's name.
The nations with one voice would fay,
Thus I praise Devon every day.
What shall I do, or how impart
Feelings, which overflow my heart;
The grateful trembler fain would speak,
The spring is warm, but words are weak,
What praise to her shall mortal give,
Who, like an angel, bids me live;
She, who like heaven o'er my head,
Her beams upon the evening shed
Of a long day; whofe ftorms, als,
Oft shook the fand within my glass.
Yet still be mine to praise the morn
That fees another Devon born;
Where, as within an infant rose,

A matchless mother's beauty glows;

Mr. Poynts was preceptor to the late Duke of Cumberland, and father to the Countess Dowager of Spencer.

VOL. Y.

M

Or

242

THE LIFE OF G. A. BELLAMY.

Or a young Marlborough, in whofe eye,

His great forfather's flame I fpy.
Heroes and ftatefmen are the fruit,
That spring from fuch a noble root.'
Thus time for many an age shall trace
The blooming wonders of that face;
And unborn heroes fpring from thee,
Their country's guardian, God's to be.

I thought to have concluded with the foregoing lines, and with tolerable chearfulness; but that fickle dame I juft now mentioned, will not fuffer me to do fo. 1 am unhappily forced to add, that the attorney who undertook, with Mr. Batten, the joint friendly bill before the Rarons of Exchequer, in order to obtain permiffion for Mr. Woodward to fell out the stock his brother had left him, has fent me in his bill, which amounts to forty three pounds thirteen fhillings, and one penny. What I fhall do I know not. If he has not lenity, the Lord have mercy upon me. as he is a generous and opulent man, I hope he will give me time; more particularly, as he muft feel the deception that occafioned our ill fuccefs.

But

་ ་

G. A. B.