“Your last letter gave me great and most unexpected
concern. I had indeed believed that you were sailing on a quiet sea, in no
danger of shoals or tempests. By what principle, or what strange want of
principle, is it that mercantile men so often, for the sake of the shortest
reprieve from bankruptcy, involve their nearest friends and connexions with
them? I write to you in a frame of mind which you will easily conceive, looking
back upon the year which has just closed, and reflecting on the trials with
which we have both been visited during its course. Your loss, I would fain
hope, may not prove altogether so great as you apprehend; and I would hope also
that some prize in the lottery of life, full of change as it is, may one day or
other replace it. Even at the worst it leaves you heart-whole. It will be long
before I shall find myself so; and if life had no duties, I should be very far
from desiring its continuance for the sake of any enjoyments which it can
possibly have in store. I have the same sort of feeling that a man who is
fondly attached to his family has when absent from them,—as if I were on
a journey. I yearn, perhaps more than I ought to do, to be at home and at rest.
Yet what abundant cause have I for thankfulness, possessing as I do so many
blessings, that I should think no man could possibly be happier, if I had not
been so much happier myself. Do not think
| Ætat. 43. | OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 231 |
| 232 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE | Ætat. 43. |
“God bless you, my dear Friend!
