ducing the desired effect, would certainly have been highly resented.

I succeeded however, with my own tenants, in putting affairs upon a better footing, and after a fortnight's stay, returned to York, truly thankful that my dear mother had not witnessed this scene of desolation, and that it was not necessary for me to relate the particulars of it to her; and as my brother sometimes made her a visit, and said nothing of his own situation, and appeared in tolerable spirits, she was not positively unhappy on his account, although never wholly free from anxiety.

In the following October, I was sent for by express, to a friend in Oxfordshire, Mrs. Freeman of Fawley-court, who was dangerously ill of a typhus fever. She had lain twelve hours in strong convulsions, and every moment was expected to be her last; happily however, she recovered, but so very slowly, that I could not leave her with comfort, in less than three months. Understanding afterwards, the state to which she had been reduced, she said to me, "Let none hereafter distress themselves by the circumstance of seeing a friend expire in convulsions. I suf fered nothing, when every one around me was in such dismay, nor should I have suffered any thing more, had the spark of life been actually extinguished." I mention this fact for the consolation of those, who may have experienced the loss of a friend, in such apparent agony.

I returned to York, before the close of this year, in time to make up and print the annual

accounts of our schools, a practice which, we have ever since continued.

Mrs. G. and myself, were now joined by the late lady Anderson, Mrs. Salmond, Miss Hasell, the Mrs. Witherses, and many other ladies of great respectability: our subscriptions increased, and our schools flourished. I generally consulted Mr. Cappe, before I brought forward to our committee, any proposed alteration; and this, together with other circumstances, occasioned our meeting very frequently. This intercourse, in itself so useful and so pleasant, was however, in great danger of being interrupted by a report which became prevalent, that it was likely to terminate in a matrimonial connexion; and I hardly ever went into any company, that I was not either congratulated or condoled with, upon the occasion. The talents of Mr. Cappe, it was said, were undoubtedly great, and his character unexceptionable; but then his situation in lifea dissenting minister, and with so large a family! In vain did I affirm, what was at that time the simple truth, that no other connexion than what then subsisted, had been thought of, or was intended; not much credit was given to my assertions and although I should have little regarded the report, as far as myself only was concerned, yet it assumed a more unpleasant aspect, when I found that it was often obtruded upon him also.

How was I now to act? To continue the same frequent intercourse, without some explanation, was rendered next to impossible, and to decline

it, was to give up for a punctilio, the most improving society, and the sincerest friendship. Should I continue passive, and let every thing take its course, I might subject my friend to the pain of a refusal; for I had now reason to believe, and I was afterwards confirmed in the belief, that the consequence on his part, should no explanation take place on mine, would have been a proposal, which I could not have accepted, without probable injury to his family, and increased embarrassment to my own. Mr. Cappe, indeed knew that my property was small, but he did not know the impending ruin with which my poor brother was still threatened, nor did he know that I considered myself bound in honour, in the way already mentioned, in a debt of £700 on my brother's account; and therefore, he could not see the full extent of those obstacles, which to my mind, appeared insuperable. At length therefore, after much anxious deliberation, I determined to write a letter to him, lamenting the current report, on the ground of the utter impossibility that either of us, being so peculiarly circumstanced, could entertain a thought of any other connexion, than that which at present subsisted; and therefore requesting, being both conscious of this, that we might not relinquish our present friendly intercourse, on account of the mistakes or misapprehensions of others. It was evident from his reply, that the subject did not appear to him in exactly the same light in which I had put it, and that he wished earnestly for a further explanation. With this implied request,

which with peculiar delicacy, he had not made in direct terms, I should unquestionably have complied, if I had not felt it as a duty to save him the painful dilemma, on the one hand, of relinquishing his intention, on the discovery of the impending storm, by which we were threatened, and which he might deem dishonourable and ungenerous, or, on the other, of desiring to encounter it with me, to the certain prejudice of his own young people, whose future prospects were already sufficiently circumscribed. I determined therefore, to reply in general terms only, but in a manner so decisive on the subject in contemplation, as to put an end for ever, to the possibility of its being again brought forward. I was well aware, that the real motives of my conduct, not being explained to Mr. Cappe, were liable to be mistaken by him; and I was afterwards convinced from his altered manner, that they had been misconstrued. Little did he know or suspect how much the effort had cost me; it was attributed by him, I believe, either to a romantic, visionary turn of mind, which could not accommodate itself to real life, or to the pride of family, and the desire of more splendid connexions; or, to both these causes united; and I seemed for a time to have lost some portion of his esteem and good opinion. This deprivation was the severest part of the trial, but conscious how different would have been his sentiments, could he have known the whole truth, it soon lost much of its poignancy,

and we met again as frequently as usual, without embarrassment on either side.

CHAPTER 30.

Attacks of severe illness....Lesser perplexities....History of an interesting West-Indian friend....Her extraordinary talents....Great eccentricities....Subsequent derangement. ....A legacy left to the Author's mother....Her very severe illness....The Author's brother obtains a curacy near Ferrybridge....His illness and death....The Author again

visits Craven.

DURING the following two years, either my mother or myself, had frequent attacks of severe illness, in which more than once the lives of both were greatly endangered: we had also much perplexity about a maid-servant. Our finances did not admit of our keeping more than one, and the young woman, who served us in that capacity, was threatened by a pulmonary consumption. She was often unable to do her work for several days together, yet whenever her leaving us was mentioned, she pleaded that she had no friends, and entreated with many tears, that she might live and die with us. Had she lost her health in our service, there might have been some reason alleged for this request; but the fact was, that the consciousness of her own bad state of health, which she had very carefully concealed,