The servants we brought home, and those we left behind, melt in tears at the name of Mrs. Jervis.  Mr. Longman, too, lamented the loss of her, in the most moving strain.  And all I can do now, in honour of her memory and her merit, is to be a friend to those she loved most, as I have already begun to be, and none of them shall suffer in those concerns that can be answered, now she is gone.  For the loss of so excellent a friend and relation, is loss enough to all who knew her, and claimed kindred with her.

Poor worthy Jonathan, too, (’tis almost a misery to have so soft, so susceptible an heart as I have, or to have such good servants and friends as one cannot lose without such emotions as I feel for the loss of them!) his silver hairs, which I have beheld with so much delight, and thought I had a father in presence, when I saw them adorning so honest and comely a face, are now laid low!—­Forgive me, he was not a common servant; neither are any of ours so:  but Jonathan excelled all that excelled in his class!-I am told, that these two worthy folks died within two days of one another:  on which occasion I could not help saying to myself, in the words of David over Saul and his son Jonathan, the name-sake of our worthy butler—­“They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their deaths they were not divided.”

I might have continued on in the words of the royal lamenter; for, surely, never did one fellow-servant love another in my maiden state, nor servant love a mistress in my exalted condition, better than Jonathan loved me!  I could see in his eyes a glistening pleasure, whenever I passed by him:  if at such times I spoke to him, as I seldom failed to do, with a—­“God bless you too!” in answer to his repeated blessings, he had a kind of rejuvenescence (may I say?) visibly running through his whole frame:  and, now and then, if I laid my hands upon his folded ones, as I passed him on a Sunday morning or evening, praying for me, with a—­“How do you, my worthy old acquaintance?” his heart would spring to his lips in a kind of rapture, and his eyes would run over.

O my beloved friend! how the loss of these two worthies of my family oppresses me at times!

Mr. B. likewise shewed a generous concern on the occasion:  and when all the servants welcomed us in a body, on our return—­“Methinks my dear,” said he, “I miss your Mrs. Jervis, and honest Jonathan.”  A starting tear, and—­“They are happy, dear honest souls!” and a sigh, were the tribute I paid to their memories, on their beloved master’s so kindly repeating their names.

Who knows, had I been here—­But away, too painful reflections—­They lived to a good old age, and fell like fruit fully ripe:  they died the death of the righteous; I must follow them in time, God knows how soon; and, Oh! that my latter end may be like theirs!