could not wholly waste with all the follies which checker the better intentions of my life.
I went to Greenwood
and into the vault, and saw the sacred names of the dear departed on the slabs which sealed the deposit of their remains.
It was all like a dream and a sad one.”
. No. 8 Bond Street. I came down here to write the records of yesterday and to-day in this dear old house, whose thronging memories rise up to wring my heart, in the prospect of its speedy dismantlement and the division of its dear contents.
Here I came on my return from Europe
in 1844, bringing my dear Julia
, then an infant of six months. Uncle John had just bought and fitted it up. Here I came to attend Sister Louisa's wedding, Uncle John being rather distant to me, supposing that I had favored the marriage.
Here I saw dear Brother Marion for the last time.
Here I came in my most faulty and unhappy period.
Here, after my first publications; here, to see my play acted at Wallack
's. Here, when death had taken my dearest Sammy from me. Uncle John was so kind and merciful at that time, and always except that once, when indeed he did not express displeasure, but I partly guessed it and learned it more fully afterwards.
God's blessing rest upon the memory of this hospitable and unstained house.
It seems to me as if neither words nor tears could express the pain I feel in closing this account with my father's generation.”
The most important episode of 1874, the visit to Samana
, has already been described.