the victim of mistake; and that your father, gradually
fashioned by the world, did not quickly become what I hesitate to call
him--out of respect to my daughter.

"But, to hasten to the more busy scenes of my life. Mr. Venables and my
mother died the same summer; and, wholly engrossed by my attention to
her, I thought of little else. The neglect of her darling, my brother
Robert, had a violent effect on her weakened mind; for, though boys may
be reckoned the pillars of the house without doors, girls are often
the only comfort within. They but too frequently waste their health
and spirits attending a dying parent, who leaves them in comparative
poverty. After closing, with filial piety, a father's eyes, they are
chased from the paternal roof, to make room for the first-born, the
son, who is to carry the empty family-name down to posterity; though,
occupied with his own pleasures, he scarcely thought of discharging, in
the decline of his parent's life, the debt contracted in his childhood.
My mother's conduct led me to make these reflections. Great as was the
fatigue I endured, and the affection my unceasing solicitude evinced, of
which my mother seemed perfectly sensible, still, when my brother, whom
I could hardly persuade to remain a quarter of an hour in her chamber,
was with her alone, a short time before her death, she gave him a little
hoard, which she had been some years accumulating.

"During my mother's illness, I was obliged to manage my father's temper,
who, from the lingering nature of her malady, began to imagine that
it was merely fancy. At this period, an artful kind of upper servant
attracted my father's attention, and the neighbours made many remarks
on the finery, not honestly got, exhibited at evening service. But I was
too much occupied with my mother to observe any change in her dress or
behaviour, or to listen to the whisper of scandal.

"I shall not dwell on the death-bed scene, lively as is the remembrance,
or on the emotion produced by the last grasp of my mother's cold hand;
when blessing me, she added, 'A little patience, and all will be over!'
Ah! my child, how often have those words rung mournfully in my ears--and
I have exclaimed--'A little more patience, and I too shall be at rest!'

"My father was violently affected by her death, recollected instances of
his unkindness, and wept like a child.

"My mother had solemnly recommended my sisters to my care, and bid me
be a mother to them. T