About eight in the morning, when I came out of my room, I found Hannah at the door. 'Have you not heard that Patty is dying! They called me to her in great alarm,' at which from the ghastliness of her appearance I could not wonder. About two or three hours after our parting for the night she had been taken ill."
She had gone through much fatigue, for Hannah had not been well enough to go with the Wilberforces the round of the schools at Cheddar, &c. On that last night she had come to her sister's bedside and said, "They are all gone to bed, and our Wilberforce and I have had a nice hour's chat." In a very little time after this she awoke in frightful agony, ending after some hours in unconsciousness, but she lingered for about a week, often rambling in talk but quite peaceful. There was bitter lamentation and weeping all through the Mendips, and among the wide circle of friends who had felt the unusual charm of her society, and what could Hannah write more truly than "I may indeed now say, 'My house is left unto me desolate.' I bless my Heavenly Father, however, that he has not left me without consolation and support."
She was seventy-four years of age, and the feeling "I must finish my journey alone," could not but be strong upon her. "I have lost my chief earthly comfort, companion, counsellor, and fellow labourer," were her words to Daniel Wilson (afterwards Bishop
