Five days after her seizure, Mrs. Winn was delivered of a dead child, a son, the object of their fondest wishes.-"Ah," said she, "we have been too anxious about this " For some days, there were considerable hopes of her recovery, but the gleam was transient, and she afterwards sunk very rapidly. Still however her resignation and fortitude did not forsake her. "What a blessing,' she said to me, "it has been, that I was inured in my youth, to afflictions and trials; otherwise, how totally might I have been intoxicated by the happiness that followed! Truly thankful am I now, that I was enabled to bear the cruel usage of my poor unhappy brother, in perfect silence; and that as far as I could prevent it, the peace of my dear father, was not disturbed by it. You remember," she continued, "that I shewed him no resentment." She then paused a moment-her mind was exceedingly occupied by the subject, and perhaps the more powerfully impressed, from the circumstance of my being with her, whom she had not seen for so long an interval. She then resumed, still holding my hand-" Alas, my poor brother- if he now knew my situation, would he triumph, think you? he has already suffered greatly; I bear him him no resentment, but I fear he must yet suffer more:"-Her words were prophetic; he did eventually suffer more; his mind was torn by the most violent, conflicting passions, and at length, he died wretchedly at an inn, on his road to London. She continued, "how singu lar it is, that you should have been with me at the commencement of my earthly happiness, and

that you are now come to witness its close. Be attentive, I beseech you, to the Baron and to my child; -you will find her worthy of your attention." This was our last conversation; she grew weaker every hour, and on the following morning, Oct. 9th, 1774, she calmly resigned her breath, without a struggle or a sigh.

How insignificant at that moment, did all the fleeting happiness of this world appear, so beautifully compared by the poet to

"A winter's gleam-a morning flower

"That fades and withers in an hour!"

The amiable virtues of my departed friend, were now her only treasure, and what would have been my feelings, had I not been fully persuaded that they would again bloom and attain perfection, where sickness, pain, and death will be known no more!

When the hope of Mrs. Winn's recovery had entirely vanished, an express was sent to Bath for her sister, who arrived about an hour after she expired. The meeting was most distressing. The Baron was a man of great sensibility, and fully capable of appreciating the treasure he had lost; his affliction therefore, may be more easily imagined than described. With what extreme anxiety, did the little Georgiana watch his altered countenance, running to me from time to time, to enquire if I thought her dear papa began to get the better of his grief? Often, when she heard him descend the stairs, would she stand on the upper landing, watching till he had passed

the door of her late mamma's apartment; and if he did not sigh or lament, as was sometimes his custom, she would run to me in transport, exclaiming, "I am sure papa is better, for I did not hear him as he passed by the room-the room you know!"

Her aunt staid with us about a month after the funeral; when the Baron being obliged to go into Scotland, requested that she and I would remain with the child, until his return. She refused, on the ground that her spirits were unequal to it; and the weight of the burthen devolved of course upon me. He was absent above two months; and although I had the consolation of regularly attending Essex chapel on the Sunday, and of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Lindsey at other times, yet the distance from Albemarlestreet, was so considerable, that this indulgence could not be frequent, especially, as I had promised to leave my little charge as seldom as possible; and it may therefore well be imagined that the time passed very heavily; my little pupil indeed, rewarded my attention to the utmost of her power, by her affectionate attachment, and by her innocent, playful vivacity, and she really was one of the most interesting children I ever knew. The Baron had desired that during his absence, I would hear her the Church Catechism; and one morning as she was repeating it, coming to the exposition there given, of what is called the Apostle's Creed, namely, "First, I learn to believe in God the Father-secondly, in God the Sonthirdly, in God the Holy Ghost"-she paused of

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her own accord, and counting with her little fingers, one, two, three; now how is thismy Bible says there is but one God, and my catechism says are three." "My dear, wherever they contradict each other, you must depend upon your Bible."-"O very well," she replied, and seemed perfectly satisfied: this conversation I did not fail, after his return, to repeat to her father, commenting upon it as it appeared to deserve.

When the Baron returned from Scotland, on the 23rd of January, I found he had determined to send his little girl to school; and that of Mrs. La Touche, at Chelsea being fixed upon, I carried her thither, not without many a heart-ache, the beginning of February; and in two days afterwards, I left London, and set out towards Yorkshire.

CHAPTER 22.

The Author's return to Bedale....Her state of mind....Feels the loss of Mr. and Mrs. Lindsey....Spends the Christmas and summer holidays with the little daughter of her late friend....She and her mother leave Bedale, and take up their abode at Stank-house....Some account of her principal Leeds friends.

In my return to Bedale, I made a visit to my brother at Stank-house. His situation there, upon the whole, appeared better than I expected: he was himself in the highest spirits with his new undertaking, had no doubt of living very com

fortably, and as I had no data of my own, from which to form a judgment, I hoped he might not be wholly mistaken.

It was now on this second return to Bedale, in March, 1775, that I experienced the full extent of the loss I had suffered, in the removal of Mr. and Mrs. Lindsey, and which I had so painfully anticipated, when I parted from them at Wakefield. The preceding year, I had looked forwards to the prospect of visiting them in London; and had indulged a vague sort of hope, the foundation of which I had not strictly examined, that these visits might be frequently repeated. But I now found that the expense attending them, which was unavoidable even on the most economical plan, would render this wholly impracticable; and I had besides discovered, that to visit Mr. and Mrs. L. in London, was something very different from visiting them at Catterick; in the one case, I had probably contributed something to their comfort and support, during the pressure of the difficult duty to which they were called; in the other, surrounded as they were by persons of the first talents, and attainments in literature-the Priestleys, the Franklins, the Jebbs, the Lees,* the Prices, the Sergeants, &c. &c. my society could add nothing to them; but was on the contrary, as I have already remarked, rather an incumbrance than an assist

* The late John Lee, esq. attorney-general under the administration of the late Lord Rockingham, and the particular and most intimate friend of Mr. Cappe.