Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century; London (England) -- Description and travel
REVEREND AND DEAR SIR. I take the opportunity of thanking you right
earnestly for the promptness you displayed in answering my note with
full particulars concerning my much lamented brother, and I also
herein beg to express my sincere regard for the willingness you
displayed and for the facility you afforded for getting the remains
of my poor brother exhumed. It has been to us a most sorrowful and
painful event, but when we meet with such friends as yourself, it in
a measure, somehow or other, abates that mental anguish, and makes
the suffering so much easier to be borne. Considering the
circumstances connected with my poor brother’s fate, it does, indeed,
appear a hard one. He had been away in all seven years; he returned
four years ago to see his family. He was then engaged to a very
amiable young lady. He had been very successful abroad, and was now
returning to fulfil his sacred vow; he brought all his property with
him in gold uninsured. We heard from him when the ship stopped at
Queenstown, when he was in the highest of hope, and in a few short
hours afterwards all was washed away.
Mournful in the deepest degree, but too sacred for quotation here, were
the numerous references to those miniatures of women worn round the necks
of rough men (and found there after death), those locks of hair, those
scraps of letters, those many many slight memorials of hidden tenderness.
One man cast up by the sea bore about him, printed on a perforated lace
card, the following singular (and unavailing) charm:
A BLESSING.
May the blessing of God await thee. May the sun of glory shine
around thy bed; and may the gates of plenty, honour, and happiness be
ever open to thee. May no sorrow distress thy days; may no grief
disturb thy nights. May the pillow of peace kiss thy cheek, and the
pleasures of imagination attend thy dreams; and when length of years
makes thee tired of earthly joys, and the curtain of death gently
closes around thy last sleep of human existence, may the Angel of God
attend thy bed, and take care that the expiring lamp of life shall
not receive one rude blast to hasten on its extinction.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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