June 20.
I think my dear Bramine—That nature is turn’d upside down—for Wives go to visit Husbands, at greater perils & take longer journies to pay them this Civility now a days out of ill Will—than good—Mine is flying post a Journey of a thousand Miles—with as many miles to go back—merely to see how I do, & whether I am fat or lean—& how far are you going to see yr. Helpmate—and at such hazards to Yr. Life, as few Wives’ best affections wd. be able to surmount—But Duty & Submission Eliza govern thee—by what impulses my Rib is bent towards me—I have told you—& yet I wd. to God, Draper but recd. & treated you with half the courtesy & good nature—I wish you was with him—for the same reason I wish my Wife at Coxwould—That She might the sooner depart in peace—She is ill—of a Diarhea which she has from a weakness on her bowels ever since her paralitic Stroke—Travelling post in hot weather, is not the best remedy for her—but my girl says—she is determined to venture—She wrote me word in Winter, She wd. not leave france, till her end approach’d—surely this journey is not prophetic! but twould invert the order of Things on the other side of this Leaf—and what is to be on the next Leaf—The Fates, Eliza only can tell us—rest satisfied.
June 21.
have left off all medicines—not caring to tear my frame to pieces with ’em—as I feel perfectly well.—set out for Crasy Castle to morrow morning—where I stay ten days—take my Sentimental Voyage—and this Journal with me, as certain as the two first Wheels of my Chariot—I cannot go on without them.—I long to see yrs.—I shall read it a thousand times over If I get it before yr. arrival—What wd. I now give for it—tho’ I know there are circumstances in it, That will make my heart bleed & waste within me—but if all blows over—’tis enough—we will not recount our Sorrows, but to shed tears of Joy over them—O Eliza! Eliza! Heaven nor any Being it created, never so possessed a Man’s heart—as thou possessest mine—use it kindly—Hussy—that is, eternally be true to it.
June 22. Ive been as far as York to day with no Soul with me in my Chase, but yr. Picture—for it has a Soul I think—or something like one which has talk’d to me, & been the best Company I ever took a Journey with (always excepting a Journey I once took with a friend of yrs. to Salt hill, & Enfield Wash—The pleasure I had in those Journies, have left Impressions upon my Mind, which will last my Life—You may tell her as much when You see her—she will not take it ill—I set out early to morrow morning to see Mr. Hall—but take my Journal along with me.
June 24th.
As pleasant a Journey as I am capable of taking Eliza! without thee—Thou shalt take it with me when time & tide serve hereafter, & every other Journey wch. ever gave me pleasure, shall be rolled over again with thee besides me—Amo’s Vale shall look gay again upon Eliza’s Visit—and the Companion of her Journey, will grow young again as he sits upon her Banks with Eliza seated besides him—I have this and a thousand little parties of pleasure—& systems of living out of the common high road of Life, hourly working in my fancy for you—there wants only the Dramatis Personæ for the performance—the play is wrote—the Scenes are painted—& the Curtain ready to be drawn up.—the whole Piece waits for thee, my Eliza—