I think of you all with favourable. double affection, which accept very warmly from Thy affectionate Daughter, To her Sister. E. S. Patterdale, 11th of 9th Month, 1851. My beloved L. * * * This delightful morning, Ulleswater, which we admired as much, if not more than any lake which we have seen, was of the brightest blue, and the valley behind us rich in loveliness when we set off for Helvellyn. The top is just five miles from the Inn. At last the pony was tied to a stake, and we wound up the Swirrel Edge. The rocks are almost perpendicular and strangely shivered, and we looked down on the Red Tarn sparkling in the sun with, as it were, thousands of stars. At last we reached the top, a bare smooth summit, whence the wide misty landscape stretched all around us. Six lakes should have been visible, but we were obliged to be content with the whole stretch of Ulleswater, eight miles behind us, Bassenthwaite to the north, and perhaps a bit of Keswick, but I would not have missed the scene for any reasonable consideration. Scott, of course, stood on the top of the hill looking down on the Tarn, with Striding Edge on his right. Alas! no Eagles" are ever "yelling" on the mountain, nor "brown mountain heather" is in sight-only common mountain grass. On the top of Helvellyn, she wrote the following lines in a sketch book: How softly the winds of the mountains are saying, stars now. The "huge nameless rock" has no gloom in its shadow, It catches the sun, it has found it a name; And the mountain grass covers like the turf of the meadow, The arms of Helvellyn and Catchedecan. There is not on earth a dark city's enclosure, Or vast mountain waste, where the trav'ller may roam, That peace may not soothe with its balmy composure, And love may not bless with the joy of a home! To her Sister. * Ulverston, 15th of 9th Month, 1851. My beloved M. * * Thy very welcome letter yesterday, met me soon after returning from Swarthmore, where, of course, we had a very different assembly from yours. * * * It was very interesting, having been at Pardsey Crags last week, where the thousands had listened to George Fox's preaching, now to see Swarthmore and remember how things used to be when he "left the north fresh and green;” but G Fox never saw the meeting house. It was built, I believe, after his death, though the inscription "Ex dono G. F." is over the porch. His black oak chairs stand in the meeting-room, and his two bed-posts are at each side of the foot of the stairs. Swarthmore Hall is an ancient looking, high farm house, with stone window frames as we have seen it drawn. The Hall, where the meetings used to be held, looks very antique-black oak panels remain in parts. Judge Fell's study is just inside, and his desk in the window, whence he could hear what passed, though he never went to the meetings. The house is in sad repair. It seems strange to lay aside our daily companions, the map and the guide book, and turn our backs wholly on the mountain land, for the level and busy plains of England, with their "daily round and common task." But I know that the bright and beautiful mountain scenes will often come again before the mental eye-" long vanished" beauty that " refines and paints in brighter hues," and I hope the pleasure will long be gratefully remembered. The new home was reached on the 16th, from whence she writes, To her Sister. Edgbaston, 20th of 9th Month, 1851. My beloved L. * * * I do not like to end this eventful week without trying to send you a few lines. * * * Please tell Mother, with my dear-dear love, how very acceptable her note was, and how much I hope that her kind good wishes may be realized, and how frequent a thought of pleasure it has been while we have been setting things in order, that before long I may enjoy to show our little territory to her and Father: to have her kind advice and opinion about my little household. * * * I yet feel as strongly as ever a daughter's love to the home of my childhood. When I think of you, I can fully share in the illusion thou spoke of, fancying that before long I shall be among you just as before. To her Sister, F. Tregelles. * * Yew Tree Road, 9th Month, 1851. * I could not have thought I should have felt so easy amongst so many, lately, such strangers; but every day I feel more strongly that on one nail "fastened in a sure place," many things may hang easily; and truly all treat us with such kindness, that I should be ungrateful not to value highly my connection for its own sake, whilst that on which it hangs grows firmer too. * The remembrance of the cheerfulness with which Eliza Southall entered into the duties and cares of her new position in her adopted home, has afforded cause for much gratitude on the part of those dear relatives who welcomed her there. Newly made acquainted with some of them, she won their love and esteem by her unaffected simplicity and the geniality of her sympathies; but whilst she showed true conjugal solicitude in her plans for domestic comfort and social enjoyment, it was evidently her first desire to have her heart and her treasure in heaven. It was designed in the ordering of Divine providence that a cloud should very soon overshadow the bright promises of her arrival, and the following account of the illness which so speedily terminated her life, will, it is hoped, convey a correct impression of the peacefulness of its close. It is compiled from memoranda made very soon after her decease, but is of necessity imperfect; the attention of those who contributed from memory portions of her conversation, being so much absorbed by their interest in the conflict between life and death, and by the overwhelming feelings of an hour of such moment to some of them. Whilst it is hoped that nothing inserted may appear to go beyond the simplicity of the truth, it may be added that it seems impossible to convey in words a full and faithful idea of the holy serenity of her last hours, which showed that the work of religion had not been in vain in her heart. With the exception of a slight cold, which soon left her, she appeared to be in her usual health and spirits. But it was so for only two weeks, and on Third-day, the 30th of 9th Month, on returning from a visit at Woodfield, she complained of not feeling well. The next day she was more poorly and medical advice was obtained. The following morning she suffered much pain, but the remedies used soon relieved her; and though she was not able to leave her bed, the symptoms did not continue such as to |