Securely from her bounteous hand,

Each happy day I fed.
That this was once my glorious lot,

Now fills me with despair,
For gentle Hebe has forgot

Her little pensioner.
In vain I seek her in the glades,

Or to the grove repair,
I haunt the bow'rs, the woodbine shades,

But find no Hebe there.
Ah me! in other vales the strays ;

There in her lift'ning ear,
Some happier Robin pours his lays,

And I am all despair.
You see, my dear, Robin is but an indifferent poét, which
you must excufe in fo simple a bird, and consider only his grati-
iude. He has not been at your window at all, which Polly
foolishly thinks is owing to the fine weather ; but 'tis plain he
disdains to feed from any hand bur Hebe’s. If you would
know any thing of my family, rosebuds, columbines, tulips, and
the rest, they are all well; and if they knew of my writing, I
believe they would beg to be remembered to you. My little
garden makes a fine appearance; but you never saw any thing
1o improved as the sweet brier upon poor Belle's grave, “ of
ever gentle memory.” And really the fields about Court Henry,
with the espaliers and flowers in the garden, flourish as gaily, and
breathe the same perfumes, as if you were there, which I think
a great pity, as

os They blush unseen, " And waste their sweetness in the derart air," When you are at Marybone, at Vauxhall, at the play, every where, even at prayers, remember !

Your affectionate

PASTOR A. · Fanny Morgan, the writer of the above letter, was a servant, without education or instruction, at Cross Inn, a little publichouse by the 'road fide, în Carmarthenshire : Mrs. Dyer, of Court Henry, in that county, by accident calling there, per ceiving that the wàs poffeffed of an uncommon understanding, received her into her family, where she learned to read and

• write.

. write. How well she improved her talents, the above letter thews ; it was written to Miss Dyer when a girl, who was gone upon a vifit to London.-Fanny Morgan died some years ago, but she is well remembered by many people in Carmarthenshire.


Tbe HISTORY of CELEMENA and MR. QUAVER. n ELEMENA was the daughter and fole heiress of a gen.

tleman of a very large estate, perfectly agreeable in her person, without being a beauty; she had a good capacity, and an excellent disposition : being such, it is not to be wondered at that her parents were extremely tender of her, nor that they made her be instructed in all the accomplishments befitting a person of her sex and fortune.

But that to which the most applied herself, was music and finging : she would fit the whole day, if not called from it, at her harpsichord, practising those lessons which had been given her in the morning, and by degrees became so attached to it, that in effea she regarded nothing else.—Her governess often chid her for devoting herself so much to one thing, and re. minded her, that though music was very agreeable, yet there were other studies more worthy her attention, and ought at leaft to have their share. This the seemed sensible of, but could not be brought to lay aside her books without reluctance; and whatever she employed herself in, the last new song ran always in her head. When the hour in which her master in this science was accustomed to visit her approached, she was continually looking on her watch ; and if he came not at the moment the expected, discovered an impatience which was never seen in her on any orber score.

This, with some glances she was ignorant of herself, yet obferved by the governess, made that careful creature tremble, left her young charge should be no less pleased with the person of her master, than with his art :- she kept those suspicions, how. ever, for some time to herself ; but imagining that every day gave her fresh reasons to believe they had not deceived her, the thought it her duty to acquaint the mother of Celemena with them.

The old lady iin parted what she had heard to her husband ; and on reasoning on the subject, when they considered their daughter's youth, her excessive fondness for mufic, and the


band some person of the man in question, they began to fear the governess had not been mistaken.

After debating what was best to be done in fo vexatious an af. fair, it seemed most proper to them both to difeharge Mr. Qnaver (for so I Mall call him) from his attendance, without giving any other reason for it than that they thought Celemena had made a sufficient progress, and had no occafion for further instruction3.

The putting this resolution into execution, convinced them that what they feared was too sure a truth :the melancholy which Celemena fell into on the loss of this master, skewed not only that she loved, but also loved him to an uncommon degree. All that could be done for her amusement or diverfion, had not the least effect ; and the disorders of her mind had to great an influence over her body, that the fell in a short time into a vio. lent fever :-her life. tor some days was despaired of ; but her youth, strength, and constitution, joined with the skill of the phyficians, at length repelled that enemy to nature :-The fever left her ; but the cause still remaining, threw her into another diftemper, which thrcatened no less tatal, though less sudden consequences :-in fine, she had all the symptoms of a confumption ; and those who had the care of her, both in her late and prefeat illness, easily perceiving that the laboured under some inward grief, told her parents, that without that was removed, it would be in vain for them to hope they should preferve their daughter.

A second consultation was held, on this afflicting news, between the father, mother, and governess of the young lady ; the result of which was, that the latter should, by all the Atratagems she could invent, draw her into a confetion of the truth. They flattered themselves, that if the secret was once revealed, the arguments they might make use of to her, would enable her to overcome a passion so unworthy of her ; but, if all failed, they resolved rather to gratify it, than see her perih in the hopeless flame.

It was no difficult matter for a perfon, who by her age doubtlefs had some time or other in her life experienced the pa fion She was about to speak of, to talk of it in such a manner as fhould discover the progress of it in another. Celemena betrayed herself, without knowing she did 10 ; and when the found her secret was revealed, scrupled not to confefs that she took a frange liking to Mr. Quaver's person and conversation from the first time he was introduced to her ;-that the more the saw him, the more her inclination encrealęd, 'till it entirely en. groffcd her whole heart ; and that, by what she had enjured VOL. II. 48.

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since she had been deprived of seeing him, the was very well convinced the could not live without him ; but added, that the believed he was ignorant of the love the bore him : “ At leaft, (says the,) I hope he is; for I thould die with shame, if I thought he suspected me guilty of a weakness which I cannot forgive in myself.· The governeis comforted her ia the best manner the could, and perceiving that the harry of spirits this discourse bad put her in, made her ready to faint away, exceeded her commiffion fo far as to give her hopes that if the really loved to that excels the appeared to do, and thought him worthy of being her hos. band, her parents might be brought to consent. • This feemed too great a happiness for the enamoured maid to give much credit to ; yet the transport she was in at the bare mention of it, and the agonies she fell into, as reason abated the pleasing idea, aflured the person who was witacis of them, that there was no other means of 12ving her life than such a coafir. mation. . She went directly from her to the old lady's apartment, and related to her the whole of what had passed between them :how great was her affliction, any one may guels ; but flattering herself that shame might work fome effect on her, the bid the governets let her know the had acquainted both her and her father with the secret ; " and you may tell her (added she that you have endeavopred to prevail on us to comply with her in. clinations ; but that the surprize and grief we are in at bearing She had so much demeaned herself, as to entertain a thought of fuch a fellow, made us give no answer to what you said.” · The governeis weat immediately about making this ebay, though certain in her mind of the little success it would have: the passion Celemena was inspired wișh, was indeed too tirong to be overcome this way ; and though dutiful, and wanting in none of those respects owing from children to their pareats, not all the forrows the occafioned them in this point, had power to turn the current of her affections. • Finding her mother came not into her chamber the next day as usual, the doubted not but her indignation against her palfion was at least equal to the grief for her condition ; and de. spairing of any effect of her governess's promises, her heart, over-preffed beneath a weight of anguish, refused its accafiomed motion, and she fell into faintings, out of which she was not withogt great difficulty recovered.

Her mother, distracted at the danger of so darling a child, cried cut to her, that her inclinations should no longer be opposed ;-chat lince Quaver was so necessary to her life, he should


immediately be made acquainted with his good fortune, and that the moment of her recovery should join their hands.

The father, no less anxious, made the same promise ; which Celemena fill doubting the performance of, they both confirmed with the most folemn oath.

As it could not be supposed but that the musician would receive an offer of this nature with an excess of humility and joy, he was sent for, and told by the parents of Celemena, that as, notwithstanding the disparity between them, the young lady had thought him worthy, they too dearly prized her to thwart her inclinations, and would be tow her on him, in case he had no previous engagement.

The astonishment he was in at the beginning of this discourse, was very visible in his countenance; but being master of cunning, it abated ; and he not only recovered himself entirely before they had finished what they had to say, but also resolved what answer he should make.

He had heard the young lady had been dangerously ill some time, and that she still kept her bed ; and so ludden and unexpected a proposal, made to him by her parents, left no room to doubt the motive of it; so, without any confideration of what he owed either to her love, or this condescension in them, he meditated only how to make the best bargain he could for his pretty person, which he now thought he could not fet too high a value upon.

After having assured them that he was under no engagement, and slightly thanking them for the honour they did him in making choice of him for a son-in-law, he begged leave to know what portion they intended to give their daughter.

Such a question, from a man whom they expected would have rather thrown himself at their feet, all in extacy and transport, might very well astonish them :-they looked one upon another for fome minutes, without being able to reply ; but the father first regaining presence of mind, “ Mr. Quaver, (said he,) since I am willing to give my daughter to you, there is litile room for you to suppose I should bestow a beggar on you ; bur fince you seem to doubt it, I will put five thousand pounds into your hands for the present, and, according as I find you behave, will add

to it."

" Five thousand pounds, Sir!” cried the musician : “ I live very well as I am on my business, and will not sell iny liberty for twice the sum."

Nothing could have been a greater proof of the confideration this tender father had for his child, than that he did not resent shis arrogance in the object of her affection, by urdering his 3 T 2


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