pervaded my whole frame. It forsook me not when I parted from
Pleyel and retired to my chamber. An impulse was given to my
spirits utterly incompatible with sleep. I passed the night
wakeful and full of meditation. I was impressed with the belief
of mysterious, but not of malignant agency. Hitherto nothing
had occurred to persuade me that this airy minister was busy to
evil rather than to good purposes. On the contrary, the idea of
superior virtue had always been associated in my mind with that
of superior power. The warnings that had thus been heard
appeared to have been prompted by beneficent intentions. My
brother had been hindered by this voice from ascending the hill.
He was told that danger lurked in his path, and his obedience to
the intimation had perhaps saved him from a destiny similar to
that of my father.

Pleyel had been rescued from tormenting uncertainty, and from
the hazards and fatigues of a fruitless voyage, by the same
interposition. It had assured him of the death of his Theresa.

This woman was then dead. A confirmation of the tidings, if
true, would speedily arrive. Was this confirmation to be
deprecated or desired? By her death, the tie that attached him
to Europe, was taken away. Henceforward every motive would
combine to retain him in his native country, and we were rescued
from the deep regrets that would accompany his hopeless absence
from us. Propitious was the spirit that imparted these tidings.
Propitious he would perhaps have been, if he had been
instrumental in producing, as well as in communicating the
tidings of her death. Propitious to us, the friends of Pleyel,
to whom has thereby been secured the enjoyment of his society;