I could do nothing--I was a prisoner; all
by my own fault too; for they would have had no such opportunity had
I not been so unguarded towards my brother. When I did meet my
mother it chafed me beyond all bearing to see her devout air of
resignation and piety. Her dear son was, alas! in the utmost danger,
but his dispositions were good, and she trusted to see him in the
bosom of the true Church, and that would be a consolation, even if he
were not raised up by a miracle, which would convince even me. Poor
woman, I believe she really did expect that his conversion would be
followed by a miraculous recovery. I told her she was killing him--
and well! I don't know what I said, but I think I frightened her,
for she sent Mr. Walter Montague to see what he could do with me.
I told him I wondered he was not ashamed of such a conversion,
supposing he made it, which I was sure he would not, as long as my
brother retained his senses.
To which he answered that Heaven was merciful, and that so long as
one was in communion with the true Church there was power to be
redeemed in the next world, if not in this.
'A sorry way of squeezing into Heaven,' I said; and then he began
arguing, as he had done a hundred times before, on the blessing and
rest he had found in the Church, after renouncing his errors. And no
wonder, for it is well known that my Lord Mandeville brought up his
family to be mere Puritans.
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