her own
melancholy:--

_Saturday afternoon_, Nov. 1783.

I expected to have seen you before this, but the extreme coldness
of the weather is a sufficient apology. I cannot yet give any
certain account of Bess, or form a rational conjecture with
respect to the termination of her disorder. She has not had a
violent fit of frenzy since I saw you, but her mind is in a most
unsettled state, and attending to the constant fluctuation of it is
far more harassing than the watching these raving fits that had not
the least tincture of reason. Her ideas are all disjointed, and a
number of wild whims float on her imagination, and fall from her
unconnectedly something like strange dreams, when judgment sleeps,
and fancy sports at a fine rate. Don't smile at my language, for I
am so constantly forced to observe her, lest she run into mischief,
that my thoughts continually turn on the unaccountable wanderings
of her mind. She seems to think she has been very ill used, and, in
short, till I see some more favorable symptoms, I shall only
suppose that her malady has assumed a new and more distressing
appearance.

One thing, by way of comfort, I must tell you, that persons who
recover from madness are generally in this way before they are
perfectly restored, but whether Bess's faculties will ever regain
their former tone, time only will show. At present I am in
suspense. Let me hear from you, or see you, and believe me to be
yours affectionately,

M. W.

_Sunday noon._--Mr. D. promised to call last night, and I intended
sending this by him. We have been out in a coach, but still Bess is
far from being _well_. Patience--patience. Farewell.

To her desire to keep Everina posted as to the progress of affairs, we
are indebted, for her letters, which give a very life-like picture of
herself and her surroundings while she remained in her brother-in-law's
house. They are interesting because, by showing the difficulties against
which she had to contend, and the effect these had upon her, we can
better appreciate the greatness of her nature by which she triumphed over
them. There is another one written during this sad period which must be
quoted here because it throws still more light upon Bishop's true
character and his ingenuity in tormenting those who lived with him:--

_Monday morning_,