only fearful for you.  Indeed, my dear, I never spent it in extravagancies.  I was in hopes you would have been married; I then would have told your father all, as I could have come to you till his passion had been over.”  On my being drowned In tears, she catched me in her arms, and cried, “I leave the world with the greatest pleasure, only thee makes me sorry to go.  Oh that I could but take you along with me!—­But then what would poor Cranstoun do?  Be sure, child, you behave with honour in that affair; don’t, either thro’ interest or terror, violate the promises you have made.”  To this I reply’d, “You may be sure, madam, I never will.  I will do all I can to act as you would wish your daughter to do.  Oh mamma, you have been the best of mothers to me!  How can I survive you, and go thro’ all the miseries I must meet with after your death, without a friend to advise with on any emergency or occasion.”  “My dear,” returned she, “your uncle John, in things you cannot speak to your papa about, will help and advise you in the tenderest manner; and you may repose an absolute confidence in him.”

Soon after Mr. Stevens of Fawley came, and I conducted him into my mother’s chamber.  At his approach to her, he was so overwhelmed with grief, that he could not speak a word.  She took him by the hand, and said, “I am glad to see you, my dear brother.  You must help to comfort your poor niece, who will stand in need of your assistance.  Never forsake her, my dear brother.  All that gives me pain in death is the leaving of her behind me.”  Then turning to me, “Your uncle Jack, my dear, will take care of you, and look on you as his own,” At which Mr. Stevens took hold of his sister’s and niece’s hands, and, with tears, told ’em both he would.  Then turning about, he asked me if the physician was not yet come?  My mother said, “They would send for him, but he could be of no service to her”; giving her brother at the same time such reasons for her despondency as convinced him, that there were little or no hopes of her recovery.  He found himself so moved at this, that he was obliged to go down stairs, and retire to my father and Mr. Henry Stevens, who were at that time both in the parlour.  The physician, Dr. Addington, of Reading, soon arrived, and went directly to my mother’s room.  When he came in, she showed him the inflammation and swelling on her bowels.  He prescribed her some physic, to be taken once in every two hours, and ordered her to be blooded immediately.  Her bowels also, according to his direction, were to be fomented and poulticed once in every four hours.  This operation I took upon myself, and punctually performed it.  I also gave her every medicine she took till she was at the point of death, and I myself was forced to be carried out of the room in a fit.  Dr. Addington, before he prescribed anything, went with me out of the room, and told me he was afraid he could do nothing for her; repeating the same afterwards both to my father and my two uncles.  Notwithstanding which, he thought fit to order the above mentioned poultices and fomentations; which, according to his direction, were applied, tho’ without producing any good effect.  In fine, my dear mother died Sept. 30, 1749, about nine o’clock at night.