From the date of this letter it appeared, that they were not a month gone before my arrival; but to what place they said not, and it was in vain for me to enquire. I found every thing in good order, and all the goods safe; the garden full of fruits and vegetables, and plenty of various eatables in the house, pickled, potted, and preserved. As it was in the month of June, the solitude looked vastly charming in its vales and forest, its rocks and waters; and for a month I strove to amuse myself there, in fishing, shooting, and improving the ground; but it was so dull, so sad a scene, when I missed the bright companions I had with me in former days, who used to wander with me in the vallies, up the hills, by the streams, and make the whole a paradise all the day long, that I could not bear it longer than four weeks; and rode from thence to Dr. STANVIL'S seat, to ask him how he did, and look once more at that fine curiosity, Miss DUNK that was, but at the time I am speaking of, his wife. However, before I left my lodge, I made a discovery one day, as I was exploring the wild country, round my little house, that was entertaining enough, and to this day, in remembrance, seems to me so agreeable, that I imagine a relation of this matter may be grateful to my Readers. It contains

VOL. III.

Z

the story of a lady, who cannot be enough admired, can never be sufficiently praised.

THE HISTORY OF THE BEAUTIFUL LEONORA.

As I rambled one summer's morning, with my gun and my dog, over the vast mountains which surrounded me at Orton-lodge, 1 came as the sun was rising to a valley about four miles from my house, which I had not seen before, as the way to it, over the Fells, was a dangerous road. It was green and flowery, had clumps of oaks in several spots, and from the hovering top of a precipice at the end of the glen, a river falls engulphed in rifted rocks. It is a fine rural scene.

Here I sat down to rest myself, and was admiring the natural beauties of the place, when I saw three females turn into the vale, and walk towards the water-fall. One of them, who appeared to be the mistress, had an extravagance of beauty in her face, and a form such as I had not often seen. The others were pretty women, drest like quakers, and very clean. They came very near the water where I was, but did not see me, as I was behind two rocks which almost joined: and after they had looked a while at the headlong river, they went back, and entering a narrow-way between two hills disappeared. I was greatly surprised at what I

had seen, not imagining I had such a neighbour in Richmondshire, and resolved to know who this beauty was. The wonders of her face, her figure, and her mien, were striking to the last degree.

Arising then as soon as they were out of sight, I walked on to the turning I saw them enter; and in half an hour's time came to a plain, through which several brooks wandered, and on the margin of one of them, was a grove and a mansion. It was a sweet habitation, at the entrance of the little wood; and before the door, on banks of flowers, sat the illustrious owner of this retreat, and her two maids. In such a place, in such a manner, so unexpectedly to find so charming a woman, seemed to me as pleasing an incident as could be met with in travelling over the world.

At my coming near this lady she appeared to be astonished, and to wonder much at seeing such an inhabitant in that part of the world: but on pulling off my hat, and telling her I came to visit her as her neighbour; to pay my humble respects. to her, and beg the honour of her acquaintance; she asked me, from what vale or mountain I came, and how long I had been a resident in that wild part of the world? This produced a compend of some part of my story, and when I had done, she desired me to walk in. Coffee and hot rolls was soon brought,

and we breakfasted cheerfully together. I took my leave soon after, having made her a present of some black cocks and a hare I had shot that morning; and hoped, if it was possible to find an easy way to my lodge, which I did not yet know, that I should some time or other be honoured with her presence at my little house; which was worth her seeing, as it was situated in the most delightful part of this romantic silent place, and had many curiosities near it; that in the mean time, if it was agreeable, I would wait upon her again, before I left Richmondshire, which would be soon: for I only came to see how things were, and was obliged to hasten another way. This beauty replied, that it would give her pleasure to see me when I had a few hours to spare. From this invitation I went three times more within a short-space, we became well acquainted, and after dinner one day, she gave me the following relation.

"My name was LEONORA SARSFIELD before I married an Irishman, one BURKE, whom I met at Avignon in France. He is one of the handsomest men of the age, though his hopes were all his fortune; but he has proved himself a villain as great as ever disgraced mankind. His breeding and his eloquence, added to his fine figure, induced me to fancy him an angel of a man, and to imagine I had

well bestowed a hundred thousand pounds, to make him great, and as happy as the day is long. For three months he played the god, and I fondly thought there was not such another happy woman as myself in all the world, but I was mistaken. BURKE found out by some means or other, that I had concealed five thousand pounds of my fortune from his knowledge; and that I was in my heart so good a protestant, that it was impossible to bring me over to popery, or ever get me to be an idolater at the mass, before the tiny god of dough: that I could never be brought to look upon the invented superstitions, and horrible corruptions of the church of Rome, as the true religion; nor be ever persuaded to assist at the Latin service in that communion, as it must be an abomination to Christ and to God, if the gospel may be depended upon as the rule of faith. When BURKE perceived these things, he threw off the disguise, and appeared a monster instead of a man, a bigot of the first order, as he was a furious papist, which I did not know, when we married; and as he was by nature as cruel, as he was avaricious by principle, he began to use me in the vilest manner, and by words and deeds, did all he could to make my life a burden to me. for ever abusing me in the vilest language; cursing me for a heretic for ever damned; and by blows

He was