All these letters do not look like the proud, hard, self-sufficient woman so often described. We see her sorrowing sincerely, but not giving way to unreasoning, despairing grief; recognising that all the brightness and elasticity of life had gone, but doing, nobly and practically, what she could to help those that were left. Before the end of the year she had arranged with Mr. James Ballantyne to act ten nights for the benefit of her son’s family:— “A thousand thousand thanks to you my kind and good friend for your most delightful and gratifying letter. You do me justice in believing that whatever conduces to your happiness, or that operates against it, must ever be interesting to me; and as the happiness and health of your excellent and most respectable mother is, I know, the first object of Satisfaction which this world contains for your duteous mind, I am, indeed, most truly happy, for both your sakes, to receive so comfortable an account of her. I can conceive no blessing comparable to that of having such a Son, and such a one was my own dear and lamented Henry. This last blow lay, indeed, for some time most heavily upon me; but when I recollect that his pure Spirit has exchang’d a Sphere of painful and anxious existence, with which he was ill-calculated to Struggle, for the regions of everlasting peace and joy, I feel the Selfishness of my Sorrow, and repeat those words, which as often as repeated seem to tranquilize my mind, ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’ I hope my visit to Edinborough will be beneficial to my dear Son’s family; at least, it will evince the greatest proof of respect for that Public on whom they depend, which it is in my power to give. I have some doubts whether the motives which induce me to return to the Public after So long an absence, will Shield me from the darts of malignity; and when I think of what I have undertaken, altho’ I feel courageous as to my intentions, I own myself doubtful and weak with respect to the performance of the Task which I have undertaken. It is a great disadvantage to have been so long disused to the exertions I am call’d on to make, but I will not Suffer myself to think of it any longer. As to the arrangement of the Plays, it must be left entirely to Mrs. H. Siddons, whose judgment I have always found to be as Strong as her disposition is amiable, and I can give her no higher praise. She is indeed ‘wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best, &c.,’ but I fear I shall never be able to present myself in Mrs. Beverley, who Should be not only handsome, but _young_ also. Believe me, my truly estimable friend, I look forward with the greatest satisfaction to the moment of Seeing you again; in the meantime do not exalt me too much! You Seem to be in an error, on the Subject of my engagement, which I must rectify. The necessary expenses of Clothes, Ornaments, Travelling, &c., are more than my limited