her fancy, her temper,
and her affections--warm, clear, and unimpaired to the last. Neither her
love of God, nor of her fellow-creatures flagged for a moment.'[365] Her
two clergyman brothers were near at hand to administer the consolations
of religion, and she made a point of receiving the Holy Communion while
she was still strong enough to follow the Service with full attention.

'While she used the language of hope to her correspondents, she was
fully aware of her danger, though not appalled by it.[366] It is true
that there was much to attach her to life. She was happy in her family;
she was just beginning to feel confidence in her own success; and, no
doubt, the exercise of her great talents was an enjoyment in itself. We
may well believe that she would gladly have lived longer; but she was
enabled without dismay or complaint to prepare for death. She was a
humble, believing Christian. Her life had been passed in the performance
of home duties, and the cultivation of domestic affections, without any
self-seeking or craving after applause. She had always sought, as it
were by instinct, to promote the happiness of all who came within her
influence, and doubtless she had her reward in the peace of mind which
was granted her in her last days. Her sweetness of temper never failed.
She was ever considerate and grateful to those who attended on her. At
times, when she felt rather better, her playfulness of spirit revived,
and she amused them even in their sadness. Once, when she thought
herself near her end, she said what she imagined might be her last words
to those around her, and particularly thanked her sister-in-law for
being with her, saying: "You have always been a kind sister to me,
Mary."'

She wrote whilst she could hold a pen, and with a pencil when a pen had
become too laborious. Even a day or two before her death she was able to
compose some light verses on St. Swithin, Winchester Races, and the
weather. But the record of the last sad hours and of her death in the
early morning of Friday, July 18, will be best read in the letter of
Cassandra to Fanny Knight.

Winchester: Sunday [July 20, 1817].[367]

MY DEAREST FANNY,--Doubly dear to me now for her
dear sake whom we have lost. She did love you
most sincerely, and never shall I forget the
proofs of love you gave her during her illness in
writing those kind, amusing letters at a ti