V.

Sunday Night, [Jan. 8th, 1792.]

We are come in late; and I have but a moment to tell you we are well, and I have killed three large boars, a fox, and four woodcocks.

Nothing pleases me more, than to hear you do not neglect your singing.
It would be a pity, as you are near the point of perfection.

Adieu, my dearest Emma! Your's, with my whole soul,

W.H.