y 12th, Eleven, P.M.

I have received your letter, my dearest brother, which has
sensibly--I need not say how sensibly--affected me. My letter to
you did not propose to decide upon the propriety of the great
question, whether you should or not continue to keep the
character in which you are now employed; of that I could be no
judge. The total and absolute ignorance in which I have
remained, since you left England, of what was passing at Paris,
and the total want of information of what was passing here, so
far as concerned your mission, make me wholly incompetent to the
question; of that you must be the judge, and I trust and hope
that your decision will stand every test. My object was solely
to prevent the possibility of your coming away precipitately,
and so far my point is gained. I will say nothing of the cruel
situation in which I stand; I feel it most bitterly, and feel it
the more because my affection to you has no bounds. I am not
Secretary at State; but think, my dearest brother, what must
have been my feelings, if I had (as was much pressed upon me
from every quarter) accepted that department to which your
negotiation was more immediately annexed, in confidence that you
would have done that for me which you have done for Mr. Fox. If
I had listened to that persuasion (and surely my heart might
have prompted me to have done so), I might have had the
mortification of finding myself in a situation which I can
hardly think of without the most violent agitation; the voice of
every one had pointed out to me that department; and every
reason, public and private, seemed to call me to it. Think this
over, my dearest brother, and tell me if the ties of private
friendship are such as would have justified you to your own
feelings for fixing upon me a disgrace, the extent of which I
shudder at.

I know, I feel, that you love me; but, great God! to what have
you exposed me! and, much as you value Mr. Fox, am I to think
(good God! after the uniform affection, which has never felt
more truly for you than at this hour) that you trust your honour
and reputation in his hands to an extent that knows no bounds;
and that the moment which calls upon you to withdraw yourself
from your situation, is that which possibly had put your brother
in that confidential public situation in whic