and still occupying herself with all that concerned the evergrowing
reputation of her nephew. Of course, she could not escape the
infirmities of old age, but by cheerfulness and patience she did her
best to alleviate them. In recalling incidents of her early life, she
frequently gave evidence of her good-humoured contentment. In 1840,
writing to her niece, she refers to an incident which occurred in the
early part of the forty-foot telescope's existence, when "God save the
King" was sung in it by her brother and his guests, who rose from the
dinner-table for the purpose, and entered the tube in procession. She
adds that among the company were two Misses Stows, one of whom was a
famous pianoforte player; some of the Griesbachs (well-known musicians),
who accompanied on the oboe, or any instrument they could get hold of;
and herself, who was one of the nimblest and foremost to get in and out
of the tube. "But now," she adds, "lack-a-day! I can hardly cross the
room without help. But what of that? Dorcas, in the _Beggar's Opera_,
says, 'One cannot eat one's cake and have it too!'"

She relates, in the same letter, a curious anecdote of the old and
celebrated tube. Before the optical apparatus was finished, many
visitors took a pleasure in walking through it,--among the rest, on one
occasion, King George III. and the Archbishop of Canterbury. The latter
following the king, and finding it difficult to proceed, his majesty
turned and gave him his hand, saying, "Come, my Lord Bishop; I will show
you the way to heaven!"

Then, with that astonishing memory of hers, which kept its greenness
until the very last, she notes that this occurred on August 17, 1787,
when the King and Queen, the Duke of York, and some of the princesses
were of the company.