DEAR Mr. and Mrs. Moxon—Time very short. I wrote to Miss Fryer, and had the sweetest letter about you, Emma, that ever friendship dictated. “I am full of good wishes, I am crying with good wishes,” she says; but you shall see it.—
Dear Moxon, I take your writing most kindly and shall most kindly your writing from Paris—
I want to crowd another letter to Miss Fry into the little time after dinner before Post time. So with 20000 congratulations,
Yours,
I am calm, sober, happy. Turn over for the reason. I got home from Dover St., by Evens, half as sober as a judge. I am turning over a new leaf, as I hope you will now.
[On the next leaf Mary Lamb wrote:—]
My dear Emma and Edward Moxon,
Accept my sincere congratulations, and imagine more good wishes than my weak nerves will let me put into good set words. The dreary blank of unanswered questions which I ventured to ask in vain was cleared up on the wedding-day by Mrs. W. taking a glass of wine, and, with a total change of countenance, begged leave to drink Mr. and Mrs. Moxon’s health. It restored me, from that moment: as if by an electrical stroke: to the entire possession of my senses—I never felt so calm and quiet after a similar illness as I do now. I feel as if all tears were wiped from my eyes, and all care from my heart.
[At the foot of this letter Charles Lamb added:—]
Your letter interrupted a seventh game at Picquet which we were having, after walking to Wright’s and purchasing shoes. We pass our time in cards, walks, and reading. We attack Tasso soon.
Never was such a calm, or such a recovery. ’Tis her own words, undictated.
