Music was one of her delights. Naturally possessing a voice both mellifluous and powerful, with much true taste, and great accuracy of ear, she, without the aid of science, would often surpass the efforts of professional excellence. Aided by her brother[14] on the violin, her singing frequently astonished those who were the highest judges of that talent.[15]
Accomplished in deportment, intelligent in conversation, uniformly agreeable to society generally, her company was coveted by all who knew her, and sought for by numbers of persons with whom she never associated.
Physical infirmities were to her the source of habitual misery. Cold and wet seem to have been too much for her frame; and, by the medium of that, for her mind.
With all her faults, for some there were in her, she was still great. Her life may teach much that it will be well to learn; nor can too much be said in praise of her best work.
Mrs. Chapone holds out one bright proof of what intelligence and perseverance may in due time hope to accomplish. She cast her own lot. Herself made herself; and to the honours of her name, great as they are, those who tread in her steps may yet aspire.
Considering the high importance of her literary exertions, no task would have been more pleasing than that of bestowing unqualified approbation on her character. Her writings, already productive of good the most extensively beneficial, will stand the imperishable monument of her worth. While the sentiments which they inculcate are valued, and the language in which they are conveyed is known, while virtue is loved, or piety revered among us, the 'Letters on the Improvement of the Mind' will suffer no diminution of that reputation in which they have been so long held by the world.