loved her at that moment! Is it possible that the wretch who writes
this could ever have been so blest! Heavenly delicious creature! Can I
live without her? Oh! no--never--never.

"What is this world? What asken men to have, Now with his love, now in
the cold grave, Alone, withouten any compagnie!"

Let me but see her again! She cannot hate the man who loves her as I
do.]



LETTERS TO THE SAME





Feb., I822.


--You will scold me for this, and ask me if this is keeping my promise
to mind my work. One half of it was to think of Sarah: and besides, I
do not neglect my work either, I assure you. I regularly do ten pages a
day, which mounts up to thirty guineas' worth a week, so that you see I
should grow rich at this rate, if I could keep on so; AND I COULD KEEP
ON SO, if I had you with me to encourage me with your sweet smiles, and
share my lot. The Berwick smacks sail twice a week, and the wind sits
fair. When I think of the thousand endearing caresses that have passed
between us, I do not wonder at the strong attachment that draws me to