And strength was given to her through prayer In patience all her woe to bear, Clearly her duty to discern, And never more her life to spurn. She lived, not wrapt in selfish grief; Wherever she could give relief-- In poverty, sickness, or despair, A spirit of comfort, she was there; One of that heavenly sisterhood Who only live for others' good. Such words are like a feather thrown up in the air, they show the direction of the prevailing current. For two years longer the visits to Culham and Oxford recur at frequent intervals, and there is repeated mention of the names of old friends. Every event of interest that affects them--births, deaths, marriages, arrivals, departures, promotions, bridesmaids' dresses--all are duly chronicled. Once we are told of two merry girls shut up with some of his pet MSS. by Mr. Coxe, the librarian of the Bodleian, who was too busy to join them. They emerged from his den in a state of enthusiasm which satisfied even his requirements; but they had to undergo a severe brushing from "his own clothes-brush and at his own hands," for, "learned dust as it was, we could not carry it through Oxford." In 1847 the youngest brother, Tom, met with an alarming accident at Westminster School. By some means when preparing to act in a play his cloak caught fire, and he was almost burnt to death. Bessie used to tell how the little fellow was found kneeling with raised hands, and praying aloud, in the midst of a crowd of terrified boys, whilst the flames leapt up above his head. He was so much injured that it was more than a year before he recovered. His first letter, written with the left hand and the greater part of it unintelligible, is to Bessie. He is the little boy who was pulling daisies for her in Magdalen Gardens, and telling of their golden centres. In 1848 Mr. Wintle died at Culham. Mrs. Gilbert was staying with him, and the Bishop with some of his daughters started at once for Oxford when he heard how serious the case had become. Mr. Wintle had expressed a special desire to see Bessie, but he was almost unconscious when she arrived. He was told that "Little Blossom" had come. "Where is she?" he asked, and with a last effort stretched out his hand towards her. The pleasant home was henceforth closed to them, all silent and empty. The great-uncle also passed away in 1855, and though many friends remained, yet from this time Oxford recedes, and is no longer a second home. At this period Martin Tupper resided at Brighton; and Bessie, who seems to have sent him a copy of "The Sea Gull," received from him a letter which she valued, and a copy of "A Hymn and a Chant for the Harvest Home of 1847, by the author of _Proverbial Philosophy_." He wrote as follows: FURZE HILL, BRIGHTON, _23d August 1848_.