"It is so long since I have written you, that I scarcely know where to take up the thread of my discourse. I was then, I believe, at Dover, and you probably have learned from my letters to Boston how much I found to please me in my cousin's family at Chatham. It was my good fortune to have it in my power to be of some service to them, and I assure you I was most thankful for any opportunity of redeeming my time from entire uselessness. I am fated to find trouble wherever I go, and ought to be truly grateful when it is such as I can relieve. I staid ten weeks at Chatham, and went then to Waltham Abbey, about sixteen miles from London, and spent three weeks with George Lovell and his most lovely wife. He is the son of the only remaining brother of my grandfather, with all the warmth and generosity which characterized the family in America. He unites good judgment and firm principles, an uncommon versatility of talent, and consequent power of pleasing.

"I came here upon the 4th of December; and if I have ever told you enough of cousin Jane and her concerns to give you any idea of the strong interest I have always felt in her, you will fully understand how intense was the excitement of my mind when I found myself at last approaching her mansion. She had been the greatest attraction to me on this side of the water, indeed the principal object of my visit; the constant impediments which had prevented our meeting during the past summer of course increased our interest and impatience about it, and I can scarcely tell whether pain or pleasure predominated when I felt that the crisis was near which would decide how far it was well that I had come.... She has had a life of trial, and being without that only comforter under suffering which can teach us to submit patiently to it, the effect has been unhappy. And now that she is just awaking from her dream of darkness, you can easily conceive that the effect of the bright sunshine which is breaking upon her mind should be most powerful, and apt to carry such a mind to the extreme of enthusiasm. She has but few connections, and almost idolized my father as the guardian of her youth, and therefore inclined to extend to his child all the strong affection she felt for him, so that her delight at seeing me was little short of mine to be with her. Here, then, I am enjoying much with her and her family.

Memoir of Mary L. Ware, Wife of Henry Ware, Jr. — Part 68