William Steele IV, Broughton, to Anne Steele, at Joseph Cottle’s, Trowbridge, 28 June 1736.

Broughton June 28th 1736

Dear Sister,

         The sultry Season has so stupefied my Imagination, that I am at ye greatest loss how to write, yet considering you are immured in ye dusty Town, and surrounded with noise and hurry.  I think a taste of ye Country may not be disagreeable, and will therefore, for once strain my invention, hoping, (as you are absent from ye rural scenes) to produce some agreeable sensations in your breast.  Tho’ ye glowing fervours of ye day are so burdensome to humane nature, yet is not a country life (over in the season) without its delights.  When ye declining Sun sinks gently down ye western Skies, and ye purple Evening approaches with her cooling breezes, how delicious? How pleasing are ye Charms yt present themselves to a polite imagination? The whole animal Creation that was retired to ye shady glooms, now rises again (as it were) to a new life.  The beasts with their responsive lowings fill ye vallies, while ye birds mount their airy thrones and sing their evening ditties.  The bleating flocks again spread over the extensive plains, and crop their thymy food; while ye ripening fields float before ye gentle Zephyrs, in a long succession of verdant waves.  Now may ye Soul that is form’d for contemplation, roam thro’ an infinite variety of pleasing ideas, and expatiate freely on a thousand entertaining beauties.  How shall we enough admire ye divine skill of ye glorious Artificer? Who traced out, with his forming pencil, these charming Scenes: who spake into life those various beings, which thro’ their different degrees inhabit this lower Creation: ’tis by his command ye same genial power which gives life to ye vegetable world, and nourishes ye tender plants with his enlivening rays; with gradually encreasing heat, ripens ye fruitful products of Nature, & prepares proper food for ye nourishment of every rank of Beings.  Methinks I see ye whole race of Creatures with silent Adoration, return their grateful tribute of praise to their great Benefactor! And shall Man ye noblest work of his Creation! be ye last in tuning his voice to sing ye wonders of Allmighty Wisdom? Awake my Soul! And soar, like ye mounting Larks, on joyful Wings, to join the universal Melody.  And while Nature displays her choicest scenes, may every unfolding beauty stir up ye lively passions, and point out that Being whose Goodness & Greatness demand their highest exercise.  – * But hark! Ye Bell with a melancholly Toll, calls ye poor pale Corse to ye gloomy grave! See there ye mournful scene appears! Solemn and awful they move along! Ye sorrowing parent, with slow & silent steps, attend their first-born Care; and scarcely raise their dejected Eyes from ye Ground! This mournful sight demands a silent tear! Here is Youth cut off in its first and early bloom! Scarcely had infant Reason began to dawn, when ye cold icey hand of Death shook his untimely Sands, and mowed down ye tender Offspring to ye Earth! Then how important is ye Concern for a future State; since blooming Youth is no more a defence against ye all-conquering darts of ye pale Tyrant, than decrepid hoary Age.  Let us therefore, my Dear, endeavour to secure an Interest in our Redeemer; and consider tho’ ye various Scenes of Life may afford delight; tho’ shady groves, & murmuring Fountains, verdant meads and flourishing fields, with all ye vast varietys of Nature; & ye noble Charms of Society, are full of pleasure & Entertainment: yet still they are transitory & perishing, and will have an End: but those inconceivable Joys, which God has prepared for his Children, are immortal, unfading, & full of Glory.

         Aunt Sturgis [has] been dangerously ill but hope is somewhat better; and Mr Tho.s Attwater has had a terrible misfortune [on] Saturday sennight in ye Evening as he had just mounted his horse to go home from Sarum, at ye Corner of Winchester Street he threw him a violent fall, and pitch’d him on his face, ye way having been lately mended with stones & gravel, so yt his lips were cut almost to pieces, & were at first dangerous of mortifying his nose and forehead were wounded, & his Cheeks and Eyes beat very black, so yt he is a dismal Spectacle to behold. We are all thro’ ye goodness of God in health, & join in love to your Self & Sis: Molly, & Service to ye family.  I shall expect a letter from you next week & desire to know if you have been at Haycombe.

         From Dear Sister

                                 Your loving & affectionately Bro:

                                                         W. Steele Junr

*Rob.t Edmonds eldest Daughter is dead and was carried by our Door while I was writing, which occasiond these reflections

Text: Timothy Whelan, gen. ed., Nonconformist Women Writers, 1720-1840, 8 vols. (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2011), vol. 2 (ed. Julia B. Griffin), pp. 260-61 (edited version); STE 3/8/ii, Steele Collection, Angus Library, Regent's Park College, Oxford. Address: To | M.rs Anne Steele | at M.r Joseph Cottle’s | in | Trowbridge.