Going this day upon a long course of Corrosive Mercury—wch. in itself, is deadly poyson, but given in a certain preparation, not very dangerous—I was forced to give it up in Town, from the terrible Cholicks both in Stomach & Bowels—but the Faculty thrust it down my Throat again—These Gentry have got it into their Nodelles, That mine is an Ecclesiastic Rheum as the french call it—god help em! I submit as my Uncle Toby did, in drinking Water, upon the wound he recd. in his Groin—Merely for quietness sake.
June 1.
The Faculty, my dear Eliza! have mistaken my Case—why not yrs.? I wish I could fly to you & attend you but one month as a physician—You’ll Languish & dye where you are,—(if not by the climate)—most certainly by their Ignorance of yr. Case, & the unskilful Treatment you must be a martyr to in such a place as Bombay.—I’m Languishing here myself with every Aid & help—& tho’ I shall conquer it—yet have had a cruel Struggle—wd. my dear friend, I could ease yrs., either by my Advice—my attention—my Labour—my purse—They are all at yr. Service, such as they are—and that you know Eliza—or my friendship for you is not worth a rush.
June 2d.
This morning surpriz’d with a Letter from my Lydia—that She and her Mama, are coming to pay me a Visit—but on Condition I promise not to detain them in England beyond next April—when, they purpose, by my Consent, to retire into France, & establish themselves for Life—To all which I have freely given my parole of Honour—& so shall have them with me for the Summer—from Octr. to April—they take Lodgings in York—when they Leave me for good & all I suppose.
☞——Every thing for the best! Eliza. This unexpected visit, is neither a visit of friendship or form—but ’tis a visit, such as I know you will never make me,—of pure Interest—to pillage what they can from me. In the first place to sell a small estate I have of sixty pds. a year—& lay out the purchase money in joint annuitys for them in the french Funds; by this they will obtain 200 pds. a year, to be continued to the longer Liver—and as it rids me of all future care—& moreover transfers their Income to the Kingdom where they purpose to live—I’m truely acquiescent—tho’ I lose the Contingency of surviving them—but ’tis no matter—I shall have enough—& a hundred or two hundred Pounds for Eliza when ever She will honour me with putting her hand into my Purse——In the main time, I am not sorry for this Visit, as every Thing will be finally settled between us by it—only as their Annuity will be too strait—I shall engage to remit them a 100 Guineas a year more, during my Wife’s Life—& then, I will think, Eliza, of living for myself & the Being I love as much. But I shall be pillaged in a hundred small Item’s by them—wch. I have a Spirit above saying, no—to; as Provisions of all sorts of Linnens—for house use—Body use—printed Linnens for Gowns—Mazareens of Teas—Plate, (all I have, but 6 Silver Spoons)—In short I shall be pluck’d bare—all but of yr. Portrait & Snuff Box & yr. other dear Presents—& the neat furniture of my thatched Palace—& upon these I set up Stock again, Eliza. What say you, Eliza! shall we join our little capitals together?—will Mr. Draper give us leave?—he may safely—if yr. Virtue & Honour are only concerned,—’twould be safe in Yoricks hands, as in a Brothers—I wd. not wish Mr. Draper to allow you above half I allow Mrs. Sterne—Our Capital would be too great, & tempt us from the Society of poor Cordelia—who begins to wish for you.
By this time, I trust you have doubled the Cape of good hope—& sat down to yr. writing Drawer; & look’d in Yoricks face, as you took out yr. Journal; to tell him so—I hope he seems to smile as kindly upon you Eliza, as ever—yr. Attachment & Love for me, will make him do so to eternity—if ever he shd. change his Air, Eliza!—I charge you catechize your own Heart—oh! twil never happen!