June 6.—am quite alone in the depth of that sweet Recess, I have so often described to You—’tis sweet in itself—but You never come across me—but the perspective brightens up—& every Tree & Hill & Vale & Ruin abt. me—smiles as if you was amidst ’em—delusive moments!—how pensive a price do I pay for you—fancy sustains the Vision whilst She has strength—but Eliza! Eliza is not with me!—I sit down upon the first Hillock Solitary as a sequester’d Bramin—I wake from my delusion to a thousand Disquietudes, which many talk of—my Eliza!—but few feel—then weary my Spirit with thinking, plotting, & projecting—& when I’ve brought my System to my mind—am only Doubly miserable, That I cannot execute it—
Thus—Thus my dear Bramine are we lost at present in this tempest—Some Haven of rest will open to us assuredly—God made us not for Misery! and Ruin—he has orderd all our Steps—& influenced our Attachments for what is worthy of them—It must end well—Eliza!—
June 7
I have this week finish’d a sweet little apartment which all the time it was doing, I flatter’d the most delicious of Ideas, in thinking I was making it for You—’Tis a neat little simple elegant room, overlook’d only by the Sun—just big enough to hold a Sopha; for us—a Table, four Chairs, a Bureau, & a Book case—They are to be all yrs., Room & all—& there Eliza! shall I enter ten times a day to give thee Testimonies of my Devotion—Wast thou this moment sat down, it wd. be the sweetest of earthly Tabernacles—I shall enrich it, from time to time, for thee—till Fate lets me lead thee, by the hand Into it—& then it can want no Ornament.—’tis a little oblong room—with a large Sash at the end—a little elegant fireplace—wth. as much room to dine around it, as in Bond street—But in sweetness & Simplicity; & silence beyond any thing—oh my Eliza!—I shall see thee surely Goddesse of this Temple,—and the most sovereign one, of all I have—& of all the powers heaven has trusted me with—They were lent me, Eliza! only for thee—& for thee my dear Girl shall be kept & employ’d.—You know what rights You have over me.—wish to heaven I could Convey the Grant more amply than I have done—but ’tis the same—’tis register’d where it will longest last—& that is in the feeling & most sincere of human hearts—You know I mean this reciprocally—& whenever I mention the Word Fidelity & Truth,—in Speaking of yr. Reliance on mine—I always Imply the same Reliance upon the same Virtues in my Eliza.—I love thee Eliza! & will love thee for ever—Adieu.—
June 8.
Begin to recover, and sensibly to gain strength every day—and have such an appetite as I have not had for some Years—I prophecy I shall be the better, for the very Accident which has occasioned my Illness—& that the Medicines & Regimen I have submitted to will make a thorough Regeneration of me, and yt. I shall have more health and strength, than I have enjoy’d these ten Years—Send me such an Acct. of thyself Eliza, by the first sweet Gale—but ’tis impossible You shd. from Bombay—twil be as fatal to You, as it has been to thousands of yr. Sex—England & Retirement in it, can only save you—Come!—Come away—
June 9th. I keep a post chaise & a couple of fine horses, & take the Air every day in it—I go out—& return to my Cottage Eliza! alone—’tis melancholly, what shd. be matter of enjoyment; & the more so for that reason—I have a thousand things to remark & say as I roll along—but I want you to say them to—I could some times be wise—& often Witty—but I feel it a reproach to be the latter whilst Eliza is so far from hearing me—& what is Wisdom to a foolish weak heart like mine! Tis like the Song of Melody to a broken Spirit—You must teach me fortitude my dear Bramine—for with all the tender qualities wch. make you the most precious of Women—& most wanting of all other Women of a kind of protector—yet you have a passive kind of sweet Courage wch. bears you up—more than any one Virtue I can summon up in my own Case—We were made with Tempers for each other Eliza! and you are bless’d with such a certain turn of Mind & reflection—that if Self love does not blind me—I resemble no Being in the world so nearly as I do you—do you wonder then I have such friendship for you?—for my own part, I shd. not be astonished, Eliza, if you was to declare “You was up to the ears in Love with Me.”