and reached this place the following evening

A meffenger had been dispatched to announce our coming, and the good old fervant was rejoiced to fee Mrs. Merioneth of the party.

- Ah, madam! (cried the feward as he affifted her in alighting) this is an honour I never expected to have again. My aunt tried to speak, but could not articulate a word.

How do you do Mr. Dawson ? faid I, as I followed her out of the car riage.

Mercy on me! (faid he, looking carpefly in my face, while the tears trickled down his aged cheek) can it be?

Then, after a moment's paufe, Yes, it is my dear young lady her own felf!-Aye, madam, it is many a day ago fince I carried you round thefe grounds. Oh how my dame will rejoice to fee you!

I hurried in to conceal my emotions. -After a flight repaft, we retired to our apartments. I attended my aunt whers, where we found Mrs. Dawfon waiting our arrival-She has been thirTy years housekeeper at the Priory, poffeffes a good understanding, and an excellent memory.

Iftead of retiring to reft, we talked over past events, and wept till midnight. -Mrs. Dawfon prepared for us our old lodging rooms, mine opening into Mrs. Merioneth's. Beyond mine are the apartments formerly occupied by my departed parents; and thefe terminate the fouth fide of the Priory. Will you believe me when I tell you that the gloom of the apartment, and the melancholy fubjects we had been talking of, fo oppreffed my fpirits, that.when I retired to my own room I could not fummon refolution fufficient to let Fanny leave me ?—I was really afhamed of my own weakness; but I laboured under an impulfe of timidity much eafier to be derided than refifted.-I could not fleep.-The moon played through the painted cafement of the windows, and thone on a portrait of my mother, which hung on the other fide of the room.- gazed on it till I

could have fancied it poffeffed animation. This led to a train of ideas which kept me awake till day-light.-I arose,

looked through the windows on the ground, wept till I could fee no longer, examined the furniture of the chamber, and found it much the fame as when I left, it, as near as I could recollect, and I thought it was like being reftored to fo many old friends. At length exhaufted nature claimed fome refreshment.-I went again to bed, and fept fome hours,-arofe with renovated fpirits, and had the fatisfaction to find all the family much better for their night's repofe.

The day was devoted to viewing the Priory and grounds, in both of which. the prefent poffeffor is making great improvements. Lady Derwent's po litenefs removed all reftraint, and by the clofe of the day, I felt quite at home.

The following morning Mrs. Merioneth devoted to vifiting the cottages round the park, I accompanied her. Oh Jane, you would never have forgotten the ruftic fimplicity of the scenes. Our arrival had been rumoured; and thofe whom fate had left were in full expectation of a visit from madam Merioneth, whofe bounty they had often bleffed, and whofe abfence they could not fail to deplore.

The first cottage we entered was Jenkinfon's. The old man fat under a tree at the door, holding an infant boy on his knee, the image of ruddy health. Time had ftruck the good old man with his fcythe; he could not rife without his crutch, which he called for. Sit fili, (faid my aunt) I defire you will not rife.

Twenty years ago, madam, (faid he) I fhould have been on my legs in a minute; but now I have the honour of fecing two fuch ladies, I cannot rife to make my obeifance unless somebody comes to help me.

There is no neceffity for your rifing (faid I); pray is this fweet boy your grandion?

Yes, madam.-I beg pardon, (faid he, looking earnestly in my face), fure this must be my young lady-!

L

It is lady Laura (faid my aunt); the came on purpofe to fee if the could recollect any of you good folks.

Ah! madam, (faid the old man, fighing deeply) there are but few of us left to recollect ;-time and misfortune have thinned your old penfioners; and what is worse, they fay our cottages are to be pulled down, and the ground thrown into the park; and then, God knows what will become of us.

You must be mitinformed (faid my aunt); lord Derwent can never think of pulling down the cottages his father built as the recompenfe of faithful fervitude.

Ah madam, (cried the old man) lord Derwent is not fir William Merioneth.

But fure, (faid I) his lordship will erect you other dwellings, if he wants the ground on which thefe ftand.

I am afraid not (was the old man's reply); for five out of eight are already demolished, and the families fent away; but they were young people, and did not mind moving; but for me, the hour that takes me from this place (looking mournfully up to the tree under which he fat) will be the laft of my life. Here I have lived, man and boy, almoft fourfcore years.

He pauled. My aunt affured him fhe would endeavour all in her power to avert the calamity he fo much feared. He was grateful for her kindness, but did not feem to place much hope in her influence. The old man's diftrefs brought to my mind moft forcibly, Cowley's Old Man of Verona; and I could not refrain from exclaiming with the poet,

"A neighb'ring wood, born with himfelf, he fees,

And loves his old cotemporary trees."

not be worth lord Derwent's while to open the inclosure of his park; for the little spot they fland upon will fcarcely pay for an additional fence.

I should think not (was her reply).

At this part of our difcourfe, a young woman approached from the houfe, bringing with her two chairs. She took with all a mother's fondness the lovely infant from the old man's arms. A little girl ran after her, and eagerly climbed the vacant knee of her grandfather.

This, ladies, is my fon's wife. The young woman courtefied, and retired.

And where is your fon?

Ah! madam,(thaking his head) we do not know where he is perhaps in his grave.

Good God! not know where he is ! No!-(mournfully fixing his eyes on the little girl that fat on his knee) You muft know, ladies, that laft Michaelmas fair, my fon went to fell a few pigs, to help us out with the winter. We were much alarmed at his ftaying out all night, but comforted outfelves with thinking the morning would bring him home. We looked for him in vain. His poor wife was almost mad. At length a man from the next village came to tell us that he had feen him that morning, much in liquor, in company with a recruiting ferjeant, with a cockade in his hat. The poor girl haftened to the town, which is feven miles off, and tried in vain to trace them. The only information fhe could gain was that they had fet out for London, with the ftage. She had neither money to ride, nor ftrength to walk after them, not having long lain in with that boy. Almoft broken-hearted, we returned home. We must do (faid he) the best we can for the children, for I cannot find their father. If his lordship will but permit the cottage

I fhould think (faid I, addreffing myself to Mrs. Merioneth), that it can

Mr. Dawson fortunately heard of the affair, and came down to fee us. He advifed my daughter to take her chil dren with her, and go up to the Priory, and get permiflion to fpeak to the countefs. He knew the cottages were all condemned, but he thought, owing

ΤΟ

to you.

A very proper age (faid he) to ferve his country; the king wants foldiers -I hope you are a good subject.

Yes, my lord: but it is better the king fhould want foldiers than the poor want bread.

You are difaffected then! By no means, my lord, but I think peace is better than war.

And who gave you permiffion to think at all about it? I fuppofe, old friend, you are for a levelling fyftem: you would like to fee the tree of liberty planted in my park, and come into my houfe, and help yourself to what you pleafed.

God forbid, my lord, that I fhould ever fee that day! I want nothing but my fon; his labour would fupport his family.

Well, honeft man, (replied his lord hip) your fon is not in my keeping; and he is fo honourably engaged in fo neceffary an undertaking, that, could I recall him home by taking a pinch of fnuff, I certainly fhould not do it.

I did not expect your lordship to take the trouble of feeking for my fon. I only came to beg your lordship to 1pare our cottage; for if we are deprivof that, we must go to the parifh.

Well, I will confider of it; but I think fuch people as you may think yourselves well off that you have a parish to go to.

My aunt fhrugged her fhoulders; I looked, I believe, a little difdainfully. The good lady exclaimed, Laura, do not judge too haftily of your unsle's conduct.

Though I have not much, (faid I) compared to what my uncle has, I will never add to it by diftreffing the poor, or infulting the unfortunate. We made the poor folks a fmall prefent, and departed loaded with benedictions.

you

I fhould have told that a little poultry, a few vegetables, and what the young woman earns by spinning, fupports the family; they told us Dawfon was very kind to them.

Of the other cottages, one only was inhabited, and contained an old wor man, who had been laundrefs to my grandfather; her daughter, a widows woman with a large family, lived with her. Every thing about them announced diftress.

How different (faid Mrs. Merio neth) was once this fpot, the comfortable reward of honeft fervitude, and the feat of frugal plenty -How do you live, good people?

On potatoes and butter-milk, my lady, and we work hard to get that (faid a healthy-looking girl, who was fpinning); for my grandmother cannot do without bread and tea; she is too old to live on potatoes.

Do you get no bread for yourselves? faid I.

Yes, madam, we fometimes buy a little meal, and make bread: but then we, are forced to make it laft a great while.

Well, (faid my aunt) we will endeavour to think of fome means of leffening your diftrefs. I will fee you again foon. She gave them a trifling prefent, as a temporary relief.

God bless you, my good lady! (cried the poor old woman) I knew you would come to fee us. Mr. Dawson told us you were come down; and our young lady too. Ah! times are ftrangely altered -Perhaps ladies, you will be fo good to beg for us that our poor cottage may ftand.

W€

We left. this fcene, wondering at what we had heard, and lamenting what we had seen.

About a quarter of a mile farther, we came to another groupe of tenements, nearly in the fame ftate as the former. The old inhabitants who were left, were anxioufly looking for Mrs. Merioneth's approach, and hailed her appearance as a prefage of returning profperity. At length we returned to the Priory. I thought, when my aunt related our morning's ramble, lady Derwent appeared afhamed and confufed.

I hope (faid my aunt) I fhall have my fifter's influence exerted for the fafety of the cottages on the weft fide of the park, at leaft, for the fake of Jenkinfon and Mary. Lady Derwent replied that he would chearfully fupport any plan for the relief of their inhabitants; but the believed the cottages must come down.

Lord Merioneth offered ten pounds towards a fubfcription for the relief of the diftress my aunt had described. Lady Derwent gave two guineas, Mrs. Merioneth two guineas,-Mrs. May nard, Mifs Rutland, Lady Julia, and myfelf, one guinea each.

Mrs. Merioneth was to difpofe of thefe contributions as he judged beft. Thus ended the second day after our arrival.

4

On the third day my aunt ordered her carriage, and drove to the nearest market-town, where the purchased fuch neceffaries as the deemed would be moft acceptable to her poor old friends; and, on her return, we went to work and made linen for the poor families; my Fanny was fent to take meafure of them for their gowns, which were made of green ftuff; and the following Sunday we had the pleasure of feeing thefe poor families, decently arrayed, attend divine fervice in the chapel of the Priory. My aunt was too happy to be reasonable; and, at her requeft, lady Derwent ordered them all fome refreshment before they went home. Lord Merioneth was quite delighted and as for me, I was almost inclined to with his father under ground, that he might poffefs the means as well as the defire of doing good. Hib. Mag. April, 1796.

On Monday the earl arrived here, fome days earlier than was expected; and he has really not brought pleasure with him. Lady Julia and mifs Rutland fcarcely breathe in his prefence. Lady Derwent herself appears under vifible (reftraint; and were it not for the good humour and vivacity of his fon, I think we fhould all with ourfelves at home again. Mrs. Maynard yesterday declared herfelf overpowered with ennur, because she had no beaux to talk her into fpirits. Lord Merioneth begged her to be patient for a few days, as he expectod a cargo worth her attending to.

Dear confolating creature, whom do you expect? cried the.

Lord Severn, fir John Bateman, and Charles Clifford, efq.

The names ftruck me.

Do
Only lord Severn, the replied.
Do you, lady Laura?

you know them?

Not that I know of, lord Merioneth.

Well then take care of your hearts, ladies: for I am told Severn and Clifford are very handsome.

I know they are very agreeable, and muft be very good if they are your friends, faid Mrs. Maynard, drily.

They are as good as young fellows ufually run now-a-days; but not fo good but they may be improved by the blooming graces of a captivating widow.

Go! (faid fhe) I have abfolutely a great mind to go and teafe lord Derwent, by telling him you are making love to me.

How could that teafe lord Derwent ? faid I.

Good God! (cried fhe) Laura, do you not know that Merioneth muft not make love to any woman with less than fifty thousand pounds.

Ellen looked agitated, and Merioneth mortified. Lord Derwent approached, and the converfation ended; and here I will end this long, and, I fear, tiresome letter.

Sf

Yours, &c.

In the land of Hibernia young Pat drew his breath, and fure. ever fince he has

teazed me to death. In the land of Hibernia

young Pat drew his breath, and fure ever fince he has teazed me to death."