then resist no longer; and my weakness became the more confirmed from the
feebleness of the struggle. I remember one day that he told us of a
beautiful passage in one of the ancients, in which the bitterest curse
against the wicked is, that they may see virtue, but not be able to
obtain it; [Persius]--that punishment is mine!

Wednesday.--My boy has been with me: I see him now from the windows
gathering the field-flowers, and running after every butterfly which
comes across him. Formerly he made all my delight and occupation; now he
is even dearer to me than ever; but he no longer engrosses all my
thoughts. I turn over the leaves of this journal; once it noted down the
little occurrences of the day; it marks nothing now but the monotony of
sadness. He is not here--he cannot come. What event then could I
notice?



FROM ERASMUS FALKLAND, ESQ., TO LADY EMILY MANDEVILLE.

[Most of the letters from Falkland to Lady E. Mandeville
I have thought it expedient to suppress.]

--------- Park.

If you knew how I long, how I thirst, for one word from you--one word to
say you are well, and have not forgotten me!--but I will not distress
you. You will guess my feelings, and do justice to the restraint I
impose on them, when I make no effort to alter your resolution not to
write. I know that it is just, and I bow to my sentence; but can you
blame me if I am restless and if I repine? It is past twelve; I always