BERTHA’S
VISIT TO HER UNCLE
IN
ENGLAND.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
MDCCCXXX.
LONDON:
Printed by W. Clowes,
Stamford-street.
| INDEX to Volume I. |
ERRATA.
| Vol. | Page | Line | |
| I. | 22, | 6, | for Corcorada read Corcovada. |
| II. | 38, | 18, | for it all read it at all. |
| II. | 201, | 21, | for Banksiæ read Grevilliæ. |
| II. | 291, | 12, | for Moravina read Moravian. |
ADVERTISEMENT.
These little volumes consist of extracts from the Journal of a youngperson, who, having passed her childhood at Rio Janeiro, was sent, atthe close of that period, on a visit to her English friends.
Her father, Colonel Montague, had been ordered to Brazil uponconfidential business; and, foreseeing that it would occupy him for anindefinite time, he carried his family along with him. They had remainedin that country several years, when their domestic happiness wassuddenly destroyed by his death; and the effect of the shock on hisunfortunate widow was such, that she was wholly unable to undertake avoyage to England. She was, therefore, obliged to continue her residence{iv}at Rio; but her brother, who had always been tenderly attached to her,requested that she would permit her daughter Bertha to visit him; and,though a most painful separation, she consented, knowing how much itwould be for her child’s advantage.
Bertha promised to keep a constant Journal, and to send it whenever anopportunity offered; and such parts of that Journal have been selectedby the Editor, as it is hoped may be found useful or interesting.{1}
BERTHA’S VISIT.
H.M.S. Phaeton, June 17th.
My Dear Mamma,
Though I wrote to you yesterday by the Blossom, which “we spoke,” I amtempted by the delightful smoothness of the sea to begin another letter,in order to tell you a little of what I have seen and thought;—but howdifferent from being with you every day—from being your companion aswell as your child! I will not, however, say another word about mysorrow at leaving you; I will try to show that I remember your lastwords: “affection is best preserved by not yielding to violentfeelings.” Indeed, I believe I said too much in yesterday’s letter ofthe misery I felt. I now try to console myself with the hope that asyour health has been so much better for the last two years, you willsoon, perhaps, be able to follow your poor little daughter to