Thursday.
Very dear Dinah
Sorry am I to find you are in a bother, but we have been so long used to these
threats we continue to hope they will never be put into practice. Thousands of
times I may say, your poor dear Father has sent us to God with
the cry of sending Peter – “Save Lord or
we Perish” and He has heard our cry & saved us.
From amidst piles of letters, I have at your Aunt E’s desire selected the
few we sent, which may cast a little light upon the past, and with the aid of
memory will serve you though they may sadden you.
It is painful to near to so painful a past, so pregnant with all the elements of
usefulness & happiness & get all dashed to pieces by the evil effects of
an undisciplined mind blinded by pride & self sufficiency. But the thought
makes me glad sometimes to detect the run
of insanity through it all & so leave it with the sands of Abraham. Shall
not the Judge of all the earth do right?
Dear Aunt E is quite
well again. We are all very uneasy about you. It seemed such awful ages since we
had a letter. A few lines you know is better than nothing. We feared you were
ill & 100 things daily. I was just going to write again.
I am so glad you had a little trip. I think you did not bought the railway much nor any very expensive
Hotels. If all travelled as cheaply many would not circulate so freely.
I am so delighted to hear you are so well. Mr. H. always said you had
no radiant disease & it was all nervous debility from an overtaxed
brain.
We shall be truly glad to see your wee face again, but now, it is no use
fretting. All these sort of accusations will fall harmless on the dead, and
depend upon it if no notice is taken, the thing will die out naturally. I
believe there is an abundance of inequity in these places, and he may do good in
skewing them up, whereby others may be benefitted if we are all blackened, &
so I console myself. Tell me what have you written since J. Halifax. I know
nothing of what is going on in that way, so please tell me & how it is
received.
Who in the world is that Miss N. I don’t think Pompey’s
pillar is high enough as a pedestal for her to be perched
upon in your Father’s ocean. Never did womankind come up to her, I know. That is just
the adroit, deferential, clever style that would charm him & he would
blacken us all as black as Warren – after such a letter as that. She will
flourish away in fine style - & I only hope, that case in point may so
greatly exceed in delinquency all other cases, that his pen & and his ire
may be devoted to her & her friend. I trust now he has found a safety valve
for his quixotism & he will let us all sink into oblivion. Farewell my
beloved Dinah &
believe me your loving
ABM
I send you some letters that have allusions to your dear Mother, so
contradictory that one cannot fail to discover the germ of disease – &
in these contradictions I feel I’ve the space for sympathy &
forbearance.
