as it is to the heart of a parent, to
watch the fevered couch of a beloved child, yet had she not that
anxiety, the conduct of your father and brother might present still
deeper wretchedness. For your sake, she dismisses the harrowing thoughts
that would otherwise be her own; for your sake, she rallies her own
energies, which else might desert her; and when you are restored to her,
when, in those intervals of peace which are sometimes your own, she sees
you in health, and feels your constant devotion, believe me, there is a
well of comfort, of blessed comfort in her fond heart, of which nothing
can deprive her. For her sake, then, my dearest Mary, try to conquer
this reluctance to leave England. I do not reproach your grief, for I
know that it is natural. But endeavour to think that this residence for
a few years on the Continent, may restore your mother to a degree of
peace, which, in England, at present she cannot know; and will not this
thought, my love, reconcile you to a short separation from the land of
your birth, and the friends you so dearly love? We shall all think of
and love our Mary, however widely parted. We will write very frequently,
and every information I can obtain of your brother shall be faithfully
recorded. Mr. Hamilton has ever felt for your mother as a brother would,
and for her sake, her misguided son will be ever an object of his
dearest care. Do not fear for him, and endeavour to soothe your mother's
anxiety on that head also. Herbert has written to you, I enclose his
letter; and he entreats most earnestly that you will not only permit him
to continue to write, but answer him, during your residence abroad. He
has been deeply grieved at the intelligence we have reported of you, and
I hope and think, if your mother do not disapprove of your
correspondence, that the humble yet fervent faith which breathes in the
religion of my son may long prove a source of consolation as well as
interest to you, who, from your childhood, could sympathise with all his
exalted feelings. Poor Emmeline has shed many bitter tears over your
letter; she cannot bear to think of your leaving England, but yet agrees
with me in believing it will be a beneficial change for both yourself
and Mrs. Greville, but her letter shall speak her own feelings. I will
not write more now, but will very soon again. Do not exert yourself too
much to answer either Emmeline or myself; we will not wait for regular
replies. I have written to y