is nothing but vain, frothy discourse, which is far different from
theirs. Theirs was to edification, and to build one another up in
faith, so that they were not as we are, nor are we as they were. But,"
said she, "we ought to do as they did; there was a hearty friendship
among them; but where is it now to be found?" Says Mrs. Bargrave, "It
is hard indeed to find a true friend in these days." Says Mrs.
Veal, "Mr. Norris has a fine copy of verses, called _Friendship in
Perfection_, which I wonderfully admire. Have you seen the book?" says
Mrs. Veal. "No," says Mrs. Bargrave, "but I have the verses of my own
writing out." "Have you?" says Mrs. Veal; "then fetch them"; which
she did from above stairs, and offered them to Mrs. Veal to read, who
refused, and waived the thing, saying, "holding down her head would
make it ache"; and then desiring Mrs. Bargrave to read them to her,
which she did. As they were admiring _Friendship_, Mrs. Veal said,
"Dear Mrs. Bargrave, I shall love you forever." In these verses there
is twice used the word "Elysian." "Ah!" says Mrs. Veal, "these poets
have such names for Heaven." She would often draw her hand across her
own eyes, and say, "Mrs. Bargrave, do not you think I am mightily
impaired by my fits?" "No," says Mrs. Bargrave; "I think you look as
well as ever I knew you."

After this discourse, which the apparition put in much finer words
than Mrs. Bargrave said she could pretend to, and as much more than
she can remember--for it cannot be thought that an hour and three
quarters' conversation could all be retained, though the main of it
she thinks she does--she said to Mrs. Bargrave she would have her
write a letter to her brother, and tell him she would have him give
rings to such and such; and that there was a purse of gold in her
cabinet, and that she would have two broad pieces given to her cousin
Watson.

Talking at this rate, Mrs. Bargrave thought that a fit was coming upon
her, and so placed herself on a chair just before her knees, to keep
her from falling to the ground, if her fits should occasion it; for
the elbow-chair, she thought, would keep her from falling on either
side. And to divert Mrs. Veal, as she thought, took hold of her
gown-sleeve several times, and commended it. Mrs. Veal told her it
was a scoured silk, and newly made up. But, for all this, Mrs. Veal
persisted in her request, and told Mrs. Bargrave she must not deny
her. And she would have her tell her brother