a parting interview? Indulge me for three minutes in the sight of him. My heart will be much easier after I have looked at him, and shed a few tears in his presence.”
“I believe otherwise. The sight of him would only augment your distress, without contributing, in any degree, to his benefit.”
“I know not that,” returned I. “Surely the sympathy of his sister, proofs that her tenderness is as lively as ever, must be a source of satisfaction to him. At present he must regard all mankind as his enemies and calumniators. His sister he, probably, conceives to partake in the general infatuation, and to join in the cry of abhorrence that is raised against him. To be undeceived in this respect, to be assured that, however I may impute his conduct to delusion, I still retain all my former affection for his person, and veneration for the purity of his motives, cannot but afford him pleasure. When he hears that I have left the country, without even the ceremonious attention of a visit, what will he think of me? His magnanimity may hinder him from repining, but he will surely consider my behaviour as savage and unfeeling. Indeed, dear Sir, I must pay this visit. To embark with you without paying it, will be impossible. It may be of no service to him, but will enable me to acquit myself of what I cannot but esteem a duty. Besides,” continued I, “if it be a mere fit of insanity that has seized him, may not my presence chance to have a salutary influence? The mere sight of me, it is not impossible, may rectify his perceptions.”
“Ay,” said my uncle, with some eagerness; “it is by no means impossible that your interview may have that effect; and for that reason, beyond all others, would I dissuade you from it.”
I expressed my surprise at this declaration. “Is it not to be desired that an error so fatal as this should be rectified?”
“I wonder at your question. Reflect on the consequences of this error. Has he not destroyed the wife whom he loved, the children whom he