expences were commonly under a pound, though on certain occasions a splendid stage appearance would raise one week perhaps occasionally to the enormous outlay of three pounds. A benefit at either of the principal towns in the circuit produced from ten to fifteen pounds; and, when Mr. Inchbald died, her circumstances were what are commonly called good, and theatrically, perhaps extraordinary. She had £222 Long Annuities, £30 in Consols, and 5s. 3d. in the Reduced Annuities, besides £128. 12s. 6d. money in hand.

As to her studies, she read a great deal the latter half of 1779, chiefly to divert her melancholy; and as late in the year as the 9th of December she thought of a plot and began a farce, which she read to her friends as the scenes were composed. Digges advised her to dedicate it to Mr. Colman: but, as to managers, dedication may be a result, but is a useless preliminary they will not swallow the chaff of flattery so very obvious. Digges had, with every body else in the profession or out of it, a high opinion of Colman; indeed the little manager, in 1778, had afforded him an opportunity of displaying his powers, that can but rarely occur, by an alteration of Fletcher's truly British play of 'Bonduca.' The character of Caratach (or, as Mason Latinizes it, Caractacus) was given by him with a picturesque force that nothing in my time approached, till Kemble showed similar power in the very

different, but equally poetic creations of Octavian and Rolla.

Her friend Kemble now called called less frequently upon her than he was wont to do, but seems to have observed her conduct with a strong degree of interest. She had formed an acquaintance with Miss Wilberforce, and this seems to have brought him to her door after a long absence. He was so ceremonious as to say that he came on particular business, but as she was not alone he would call again upon her; he did so on the 15th of December, and sat a long time talking of Miss Wilberforce. We imagine he really cautioned her against precipitate engagements of this kind, which she was prone to form; sometimes repented and broke away from; and at others, as in the case of Mrs. Wells, thought it a point of firmness, as it might be charity, never to desert even the erring subject whom she had gratified with her intimacy.

Such were the leading events of this most momentous year of her existence, which she thus celebrates, with tears, in her pocket-book. "Began this year a happy wife-finished it a wretched widow!"

CHAPTER VI.

Year 1780-Her conduct greatly admired Six months a widowDicky Gossip offers her his hand-No joke either-Suett trusts Kemble with his suit - Differs with Tate Wilkinson - Wishes a town engagement-Goes again to Edinburgh-Receives varieties of attention-some rude-some religious-Dr. Geddes applied to on her account His admirable letter in reply - Bishop Hay Quits the York Company 19th September, 1780 — Arrival in London; interview with Mr. Harris - Fletcher and Shakspeare compared-Remarkable features in her provincial course-The Covent-Garden Company when she joined it—The rival Theatre

also.

THE year 1780 brought her from Hull to York with the rest of the company on the 12th of January. She lodged at the house of Mr. Tyler, himself a player, and paid twelve shillings per week for her board and lodging. Tyler seems to have accommodated other members of the company at the same time. George Inchbald, Miss Hitchcock, Miss Mills, Mr. Chalmers, either lodged or boarded in his house, and Mrs. Tyler, her landlady, of the same theatre, by activity and obliging manners rendered the society agreeable. She kept up visiting acquaintance with her

old friends of the company and some respectable inhabitants of the city. She sometimes dined with Mrs. Wilkinson, the intendante, as the French call a manager's wife; and such intercourse, with her theatrical duties of study, rehearsal, and performance, besides her efforts to become an authoress, seem to leave her no idle time between January and May. However, she had discharged the duties of a wife with so much theatrical applause, that, after allowing her widowed state half a year's contemplation, her hand was again solicited in wedlock; and the reader will laugh, as she did, at the notion of changing her name for that of Suett. But it was actually so, and our facetious friend Dicky Gossip made a serious tender of himself to her acceptance. We believe she at first conceived him to joke on the serious subject; but our festive lover had entrusted his passion to the solemn ear of John Philip Kemble himself; and George Inchbald was the "Eyas Musket" who conveyed what Mrs. Malaprop calls the soft infusion to the ears of his smiling step-mother. She now found herself a Portia off the stage, and repeated from her own part" While we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door." Mr. Kemble seems to have excited a great deal of her attention just now. He had absented himself, we have no doubt, on principle; he had called upon her, anxious for her reputation; behind the scenes what he said to her she no

tices as particular, and upon his going to London and elsewhere he repeats his leave-taking with much feeling, and the expression of his best wishes for her happiness. He seems to have found himself unable to propose, however willing, and sincerely admiring the lady, to have followed an excellent model. Every well-read gentlewoman will remember the not very obscure hints of Sir Charles Grandison, the master-work of Richardson, "Heaven is my witness that I love not my own soul better than I do Miss Byron: and now what shall I say? Honour bids me, yet honour forbids me; but I cannot be unjust, ungenerous, selfish." Upon his return he again visited, dined with her, explained the part he bore in Mr. Suett's affair, but maintained the same reserve as to any projected union. He returned to Bath on the 19th of April. In the mean time the lady never led any body to believe that she was indifferent upon the subject; and, as she once expressed herself, in language which no affectation prevented her plainness from using, "she would have jumped to have him." Those who settle every thing in country towns gave them to each other so heartily, that it seemed like disappointing their patrons to avoid or even defer the union. We think we know that Mr. Kemble could never have borne with the independent turn of her mind; he could never, we are sure, be blindly fond of any woman; and, much as she might have respected him, she had a humour