After dinner and after tea copied out a Benedictus of Mozart and the “Et incarnatus est” of Haydn—both the merum sal of music; and before supper played and sung them and many others to and with Bessy and Mary D. Poor Bessy cried at my Sacred Song, “Oh how sweet to think hereafter,” and at the conversation we had after it about the consoling prospect of meeting the spirits of those we love in another world: she was thinking of her dear Barbara.^[*^] When they went to bed, tried over some more sonatas of Clementi: was delighted with the set dedicated to Miss Gavin, chiefly because they used to be played very often by my sister, and brought back other days to me.

[*The Moores’ eldest daughter, who died, aged 5, in 1817]