on's
Sonnets or Love Passions, 4to. bl. l.? As they are not
mentioned by Puttenham, in 1589, they must, I think, have
appeared after that year. Can you likewise afford me any
account of a Collection of Poems, bl. l., 4to. by one John
Southern? They are addressed 'to the ryght honourable the
Earle of Oxenforde;' the famous Vere, who was so much a
favourite with Queen Elizabeth. This book, which contains
only four sheets, consists of Odes, Epitaphs, Sonnets to
Diana, &c. I bought both these books, which seem to be
uncommonly rare, at the late sale of Major Pearson's
Library. They are defective in their title-pages, and
without your assistance must, in all probability, continue
imperfect. Give me leave to add my sincere hope that your
long absence from London has not been the result of
indisposition, and that you will forgive this interruption
in your studies, from

"Your very faithful and obedient Servant,

"GEO. STEEVENS."

"P.S. I hope your third volume is in the press, as it is
very much enquired after."

It is now time to bid farewell to the subject of this
tremendous note; and most sincerely do I wish I could 'draw
the curtain' upon it, and say 'good night,' with as much
cheerfulness and satisfaction at [Transcriber's Note: as]
Atterbury did upon the close of his professional labours.
But the latter moments of STEEVENS were moments of mental
anguish. He grew not only irritable, but outrageous; and, in
full possession of his faculties, he raved in a manner which
could have been expected only from a creature bred up
without notions of morality or religion. Neither complacency
nor 'joyful hope' soothed his bed of death. His language
was, too frequently, the language of imprecation; and his
wishes and apprehensions such as no rational Christian can
think upon without agony of heart. Although I am not
disposed to admit the whole of the testimony of the good
woman who watched by his bed-side, and paid him, when dead,
the last melancholy attentions of her office--although my
prejudices (as they may be called) will not allow me to
believe that the windows shook, and that strange noises and
deep groans were heard at midnight in his room--yet no
creature of common sense (and this woman possessed the
quality in a