Your daughter could not live, if it were
so. A glorious creature is in the way! who has suffered for him, who
does suffer for him: he ought to be hers, and only hers; and if she can
be recovered from a fearful malady that has seized her mind, he probably
will. My daily prayers are, that God will restore her!
But yet, my dear sir, my friend, my father! my esteem for this noblest of
men is of such a nature, that I cannot give my hand to any other: my
father Meredith would not wish me to give a hand without a heart.
This, sir, is the case. Let it, I beseech you, rest within your own
breast, and my brother Fowler's. How few minds are there delicate and
candid enough to see circumstances of this kind in the light they ought
to appear in! And pray for me, my good Sir Rowland; not that the way may
be smoothed to what once would have crowned my wishes as to this life;
but that Sir Charles Grandison may be happy with the lady that is, and
ought to be, dearest to his heart; and that your daughter may be enabled
to rejoice in their felicity. What, my good sir, is this span of life,
that a passenger through it should seek to overturn the interests of
others to establish her own? And can the single life be a grievance?
Can it be destitute of the noblest tendernesses? No, sir. You that have
lived to an advanced age, in a fair fame, surrounded with comforts, and
as tender to a worthy nephew, as the most indulgent father could be to
the worthiest of sons, can testify for me, that it is not.
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