―10―

V
From Harriot

Thursday Morn.

Come to me, my friend, as soon as possible. I have already told you that ^{‸ though} your
letters are pleasing, they are less delightful than your conversation. I have recovered
from the disorder into which I was thrown by the perusal of your last letter, a disor
der to the removal of which the one which I have just received, has greatly contribu-
-ted. It is impossible to doubt the rectitude of your heart, and though you may
sometimes be hurried away by uncontroulable passions, I am confident that
their dominion is transitory, and the principles of ^{‸ honour &} integrity, will at length
obtain the superiority, and teach you ^to conduct aright

I clearly percieve that there is a mode of speaking which is dictated
by nature, and which it is impossible to conterfeit. Thou, my friend speakest
the language of Sincerity, and amidst the utmost simplicity of Sentiment &
language art truly and sublimely eloquent. And why? For no other reason
than because thou art sincere. Beware of me my friend. Be cautious of deserving ^{‸ careful to deserve}
this exalted panagerick. ^{‸ Trust me} I am a woman of uncommon penetration. As soon
as thy sincerity forsakes thee, I shall instantly discover it, and thou wilt
no longer be accounted eloquent. This among other formidable consequences will
result from thy apostacy

You see how I labour to be gay and sportive. But I cannot intirely
shake off the gloomy and foreboding melancholy with which some expressions
in your letter has inspired me. “Life is ebbing.” horrid intimation! What
do you mean by this? Thou dear Capricious! I shall at length obtain some
knowledge of your character. And shall learn to lay less stress upon the most
emphatical of your assertions, without any impeachment of your veracity.
Life is ebbing sayest, thou. Thou speakest falsely, that is thou really
believest what thou sayest, but what thou sayest is by no means true.
When Will you venture Expressions like these in my imperial presence.
If thou wert dead, I would strech forth my scepter to thee, and in touching
it, thou wouldst Survive. When have I heard from thy lips a phrase of such
solemnity?

―11―

Ah! My friend. This second effort has availed me nothing. I am still
the prey of a gloomy and unconquerable solicitude. “Life is ebbing!” In speaking
thus I am certain that you spoke as you thought. What then must
I conclude? Horrible conclusion! Vanish! Or felicity is fled forever.

Why should the passions of my friend be so impetuous and ungoverna=
=ble. Is his youthfulness the cause. I am no more than three years older
than himself, and the Sincerity of my love is doubtless equall to that
of his, and yet my serenity unless when ruffled by the gust of his
passions, is perpetual. I will exact an explication from you of this
mystery when I see you. Provide yourself with a plausible solution.
I have already forgiven ^{‸ you}. You will find me all mildness and placablility
I will indeed, be extraordinarily kind, and if you are very good, will perhaps
permit you to seal this forgiveness on the lips of
Henrietta. G.