stowed, and you cannot but wish to shew that it has not been given in vain.
Encouragement is the deepest and dearest debt that a writer can incur. Moreover, you have learnt that opinions are not to be lightly put forth, when there is even a chance of such opinions being material wherewith others will form their own. I never saw any one reading a volume of mine without almost a sensation of fear. I write every day more earnestly, and more seriously. To shew the necessity of a strong and guiding principle; to put in the strongest light, that no vanity, no pleasure, can ever supply the place of affection; to soften and to elevate,—has been the object of the following pages. I know too well that I cannot work out my own ideal, but I deeply feel that it is the beautiful and the true.
The greater part of these volumes has been written when in very wretched health;—may I urge it as a plea for the continuance of that kindly indulgence which has so often excited both my hope and my gratitude?
