June 25.—In a course of continual visits & Invitations here—Bombay-Lascelles dined here to day (his Wife yesterday brought to bed)—(he is a poor sorry soul!) but has taken a house two miles from Crasy Castle—What a Stupid, selfish, unsentimental set of Beings are the Bulk of our Sex! by Heaven! not one man out of 50, informd with feelings—or endow’d either with heads or hearts able to possess & fill the mind—of such a Being as thee,—with one Vibration like its own—I never see or converse with one of my Sex—but I give this point a reflection—how wd. such a creature please my Bramine? I assure thee Eliza I have not been able to find one, whom I thought could please You—the turn of Sentiment, with wch. I left yr. Character possess’d—must improve, hourly upon You—Truth, fidelity, honour & Love mix’d up with Delicacy, garrantee one another—and a taste so improved as yrs, by so delicious fare, can never degenerate—I shall find you, my Bramine, if possible, more valuable & lovely than when you first caught my esteem and kindness for You—and tho’ I see not this change—I give you so much Credit for it—that at this moment, my heart glowes more warmly as I think of you—& I find myself more your Husband than contracts can make us—I stay here till the 29th.—had intended a longer Stay—but much company & Dissipation rob me of the only comfort my mind takes, wch. is in retirement, where I can think of You Eliza! and enjoy you quietly & without Interruption—’tis the way We must expect all that is to be had of real enjoyment in this vile world—which being miserable itself—seems so confederated agst. the happiness of the Happy, that they are forced to secure it in private—Vanity must still be had;—& that, Eliza! every thing wth. it, wch. Yorick’s sense, or generosity has to furnish to one he loves so much as thee—need I tell thee—Thou wilt be as much a Mistress of—as thou art eternally of thy Yorick—adieu—adieu—
June 26—eleven at night—out all the day—dined with a large Party—shewd yr. Picture from the fullness of my heart—highly admired—alas! said I did you but see the Original!—good night.—
June 27.
Ten in the morning, with my Snuff open at the Top of this sheet,—& your gentle sweet face opposite to mine, & saying “what I write will be cordially read”—possibly you may be precisely engaged at this very hour, the same way—and telling me some interesting Story abt. yr. health, yr. sufferings—yr. heart aches—and other Sensations wch. friendship—absence & uncertainty create within you. for my own part, my dear Eliza, I am a prey to every thing in its turn—& was it not for that sweet clew of hope wch. is perpetual opening me a way which is to lead me to thee thro’ all this Labyrinth—was it not for this, my Eliza! how could I find rest for this bewilderd heart of mine?—I shd. wait for you till September came—& if you did not arrive with it—shd. sicken & die—but I will live for thee—so count me Immortal—3 India Men arrived within ten days—will none of ’em bring me Tidings of You?—but I am foolish—but ever thine—my dear, dear Bramine.
June 28.
O what a tormenting night have my dreams led me abt. You Eliza—Mrs. Draper a Widow!—with a hand at Liberty to give!—and gave it to another!—She told me—I must acquiesce—it could not be otherwise. Acquiese! cried I, waking in agonies—God be prais’d cried I—’tis a dream—fell asleep after—dreamd You was married to the Captain of the Ship—I waked in a fever—but ’twas the Fever in my blood which brought on this painful chain of Ideas—for I am ill to day—& for want of more cheary Ideas, I torment my Eliza with these—whose Sensibility will suffer, if Yorick could dream but of her Infidelity! & I suffer Eliza in my turn, & think my self at prest. little better than an old woman or a Dreamer of Dreams in the Scripture Language—I am going to ride myself into better health & better fancies with Hall—whose Castle lying near the Sea—We have a Beach as even as a mirrour of 5 miles in Length before it, where we daily run races in our Chaises; with one wheel in the Sea, & the other in the Sand—O Eliza, wth. wt. fresh ardour & impatience when I’m viewing the element, do I sigh for thy return—But I need no memento’s of my Destitution & misery for want of thee—I carry them abt. me,—& shall not lay them down—(for I worship & I do Idolize these tender sorrows) till I meet thee upon the Beech & present the handkerchiefs staind with blood wch. broke out from my heart upon yr. departure—This token of what I felt at that Crisis, Eliza, shall never, never be wash’d out. Adieu my dear Wife—you are still mine—notwithstanding all the Dreams & Dreamers in the World.—Mr. Lascells dined wth. us—Memd. I have to tell you a Conversation—I will not write it—