undisturbed with uneasy cares and passions, encouraged her friends to flatter themselves with a much longer enjoynnent of her society, than it pleased heaven to allow them. On the day in which she was seized with that distemper, which in a few hours proved mortal, she seemed, to those about her, to be in perfect health and vigour. In the evening, about 8 o'clock, she conversed with a friend with all her wonted vivacity, and not without laughter; after which she retired to her chamber. At about ten, her servant hearing some noise in her mistress's room, went up and found her fallen off her chair on the floor, speechless, and in the agonies of death. She had the immediate assistance of a physician and surgeon, but all the means used were without success; and, after having given one groan, she expired, 1736–7, in the sixty-third year of her age: her disease was judged to be an apoplexy. A pious book was found lying open by her, and also some loose papers, with unconnected sentences, or prayers.
Though, from the gaiety and cheerfulness of her temper, she seemed peculiarly fitted to enjoy life, and all its innocent satisfactions; yet, when her acquaintances expressed to her the joy they felt on seeing her look so well, and possessed of so much health as promised many years to come, she was wont to reply, "that it was the same as telling a slave his fetters were like to be lasting; or complimenting him on the strength of the walls of his dungeon."
She was buried, according to her own request, under the same stone with her father, in the meeting-place at Frome. Her death was lamented with very uncommon and remarkable sorrow, by all who had heard of her virtue and merit, but particularly those of the town where she had so long resided, and her intimate acquaintance.
