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LETTERS. 191
no need of saying this, for another voice has made itself
heard, and has lighted life’s darkest riddle; the stone has
been removed from the grave. Siuce I have gained cer-
tainty in this, and my belief has been firmly established,
Iam calm. It is this certainty, dearest Frances, which
causes nie now to contemplate the world “ couleur de rose,”
and makes my cheeks easily borrow that color. When my
soul’s sanctuary is not encumbered by doubts, ny body
bears buoyantly up against every thing. And it has done
so. I am quite well again; at any rate much better. It
is true that Selters-water, repose, and my leaving off tea
has essentially contributed hereto; but that which, more
than every thing else, has contributed to it, is that I have
for months drank living mineral-waters ; and this well, out
of which I have been drinking, is called Countess S$ 3
I will not attempt to describe her to you; you have guessed
her, dear Frauces; but one must know her, to be able to
understand what she can be to those whom she loves. We
have thought, talked, wept, and laughed together, and I
have recovered my health. Repose, solitude, country air,
a friend, serious and dear occupations,
— “and mirth,
That humblest harmonist of cares on earth: ”
how should I not get well with all these !
Certain it is, ny dearest Frances, that, with different nat-
ural qualities, different dispositions and characters follow
different degrees of activity and happiness. But there is
one name that comprises all that life has most powerful
and most gentle, most sublime and most holy; a name that
has its origin in a moment of struggle between life and
death ; a name which God himself once did pronounce in
love and in agony, and that name is — mother. O Fran-
ces! no other attribute and no other name can bestow what
this name, this attribute develops in the human heart of
love, of virtue, of pure self-denial, of true beauty. And
therefore I have prized your lot in life higher than mine.
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