"The deaths of Mr. Holly and Sir Horace, were followed, my Henry, by your birth; nor till you are yourself a father, can you conceive with what transports I pressed you to my bosom. In you I anticipated a future source of happiness; and as my fondness increased, you became with me (be not surprised, my Henry, if chance have not yet discovered it) likewise an object of thy mother's indifference--and hatred! But, for your sake, I buried my sorrows in my own bosom; enduring every species of behaviour studiously calculated to drive me to a separation; and, could I have been assured you would have enjoyed the property after her decease, I would not have hesitated a moment in my determination; but too well did I know her principles to place the power in her hands. "The return of my Ellenor and her infant, increased the anxiety which preyed on my mind; though I trust, she will do justice to her brother, in believing his heart never for an instant coincided with the will of her father. "For years your mother continued the same unwearied course of conduct; affecting an outward appearance of submission to me, and affection to you; whilst in secret she rendered home distasteful, and embittered every moment I was obliged to pass in her society. "How different the conduct of Eliza! She, though united to a man she did not love, learned to esteem him for his virtues; cheerfully fulfilling the duties of her station, she enjoyed the sweets of friendship, and experienced content from internal rectitude. What a contrast! "The hours I passed at the Parsonage, with friends so beloved, in assisting to form the mind of my Henry, I need not recount; but, comparatively happy as they were, they could not compensate for the behaviour of your mother, which at last has forced me to an early grave. "At your intercession, I consented to visit France; but receiving intelligence Mallet had revisited Wales, I as hastily returned, and found your mother had, indeed, renewed her acquaintance with this her early lover! Unfeeling--insulting woman! couldst thou not stay a few short weeks, till death had left thee free to accept the lover of thy choice!--Yet even this I could have excused; nay, perhaps, have pardoned: but from the private room, I heard them exulting in the prospect of my death, and projecting plans to deprive you, my beloved boy, of your inheritance; but the measures I have pursued, I trust, will render Mallet's schemes abortive.