Memoir of Mary L. Ware, Wife of Henry Ware, Jr.Hall, Edward B. (Edward Brooks)
Religion
Memoir of Mary L. Ware, Wife of Henry Ware, Jr.
Hall, Edward B. (Edward Brooks)
Unitarians -- United States -- Biography; Ware, Mary L. (Mary Lovell), 1798-1849
"I cannot tell you how much your visit to Burcombe gratified
me; you could not have obliged me more, for I should have been
so suspicious that my own description of it and its inhabitants
might be a partial one, that I doubt if I should really have
done them justice at home: Jane was as much pleased with the
effort you made to see them, as any one could possibly be, and
more pleased with the visit itself than I choose to tell you. I
have most kind letters from the family at Penrith, offering to
come for me whenever I give the word of command; it is a
delightful rest to look forward to, but it will, I fear, be
long before I can avail myself of it. The thoughts of home are
to me now something like the dreams one has of heaven, in the
twilight hours between sleeping and waking; I dare not form any
definite picture, and yet the idea will not be wholly
discarded. But with so much around me to make me realize the
uncertainty of life, and exposed to actual danger every moment,
how can I presume even to hope? May I be able to say from the
heart, 'Thy will be done.'
"MARY."
* * * * *
"_Osmotherly, October 23, 1825._
"_My dear Cousin_:--
"I wrote Emma a hurried letter a few weeks since, giving an
account of my poor cousin's illness and death, and then hoped
that I should soon be able to tell a happier tale, to relieve
the anxiety which that might have produced. But it is not yet
in my power, and I should not venture to write at all, did I
not hope that all your uneasiness on my account will find an
antidote in the confidence which daily experience increases in
my heart, that He whose arm is mighty to save, and who has
hitherto protected me from all danger, will still extend to me
his fatherly care, and guide and guard me under all the events
of his providence. You will readily believe that I have need of
this confidence to strengthen me, when I tell you that I am
writing this by the bedside of the eldest of those two dear
little orphans whom my cousin left in my care. His little
brother had scarcely recovered from his fever, when I was
obliged to leave him to attend this poor child with the same
fever, and have now been for more than a week his sole nurse,
night and day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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