with all the respect and veneration that heart could pay to excellence
like her's: and that I would go round to all the churches in London and
Westminster, where there were prayers or service, from sun-rise to
sun-set, and haunt their house like a ghost, till I had the opportunity
my soul panted after.

This I bid them tell her. And thus ended our serious conversation.

I took leave of them; and went down; and, stepping into my chair, caused
myself to be carried to Lincoln's-Inn; and walked in the gardens till the
chapel was opened; and then I went in, and staid prayers, in hopes of
seeing the dear creature enter: but to no purpose; and yet I prayed most
devoutly that she might be conducted thither, either by my good angel, or
her own. And indeed I burn more than ever with impatience to be once
more permitted to kneel at the feet of this adorable woman. And had I
met her, or espied her in the chapel, it is my firm belief that I should
not have been able (though it had been in the midst of the sacred office,
and in the presence of thousands) to have forborne prostration to her,
and even clamorous supplication for her forgiveness: a christian act; the
exercise of it therefore worthy of the place.

After service was over, I stept into my chair again, and once more was
carried to Smith's, in hopes I might have surprised her there: but no
such happiness for thy friend. I staid in the back-shop an hour and an
half, by my watch; and again underwent a good deal of preachment from the
women. John was mainly civil to me now; won over a little by my serious
talk, and the honour I professed for the lady. They all three wished
matters could be made up between us: but still insisted that she could
never get over her illness; and that her heart was broken. A cue, I
suppose, they had from you.