KECOLLECTIONS, 1825-26. 105 



Mother!! If I-knew-the-wretch who-has-confessed- 

 you,-advised you-I would-go-this-minute-and strangle 

 him, if able to do it .... She weeped bitterly, and I 

 did not feel any better, if not worse, she wept with 

 grief! and I was choking with rage //.... O ! mal- 

 ediction ! on the inventors of that odious confession ! 

 After that semi-dramatic scene, I remained about two 

 years longer with my mother and sister, but we had no 

 more quarrels, if she spoke about religion I listened to 

 her, I made no remarks, I answered by monosyllables, 

 yes ! or no ! or very well ! "We had what we say in 

 French, " Put water in our wine" that is to say, 

 every one of us tried not to hurt the other's feelings, 

 so we had a truce, if not absolutely peace. Now 

 readers, if any, allow me if you please, not to think I 

 have been too impulsive, too exalted in my demonstra- 

 tions to confess to you in -writing to your eyes, not to 

 your ears alone, not auricular. That in writing the 

 above episode, I have shed as many tears than there 

 are words in it, in this outburst of my indignation. 

 "In 1825, 66 years ago!" 



After I had left my mother and sister in 1827, I 

 went to see them again in 1835. We had been corre- 

 sponding all the time. My mother was always the 

 same, but we did not have any harsh expressions to 

 exchange. I knew it was probably the last time we 



