thine eyes_. Vain hope! Fatal reverse of all human probabilities! My
old age has been prolonged beyond the days of her youth. _There is now
no person in the world existing for me. Fate has condemned me to live,
and die alone._

"Eliza's mind was cultivated, but the effects of this art were never
perceived. It had done nothing more than embellish nature; it served
in her, only to make the charm more lasting. Every instant increased
the delight she inspired; every instant rendered her more interesting.
Such is the impression she had left in India; such is the impression
she made in Europe. Eliza, then, _was very beautiful_? No, she was
simply beautiful; but there was no beauty she did not eclipse, because
she was the only one that was like herself.

"Eliza has written; and the men of her nation, whose works have been
the most abounding in elegance and taste, would not have disavowed the
small number of pages she has left behind her.

"When I saw Eliza, I experienced a sensation unknown to me. It was too
warm to be no more than friendship; it was too pure to be love. Had it
been a passion, Eliza would have pitied me; she would have endeavoured
to bring me back to my reason, and I should have completely lost it.

"Eliza used frequently to say, that she had a greater esteem for me
than any one else. At present I may believe it.

"In her last moments Eliza's thoughts were fixed upon her friend; and
I cannot write a line without having before me the monument she has
left me. Oh! that she could also have endowed my pen with her graces
and her virtue!--Methinks, at least, I hear her say--'That stern muse