I labour in vain to calm my mind—my ſoul has been overwhelmed by ſorrow and diſappointment. Every thing fatigues me—this is a life that cannot laſt long. It is you who muſt determine with reſpect to futurity—and, when you have, I will act accordingly—I mean, we muſt either reſolve to live together, or part for ever, I cannot bear theſe continual ſtruggles—But I wiſh you to examine carefully your own heart and mind; and, if you perceive the leaſt chance of being happier without me than with me, or if your inclination leans capriciouſly to that ſide, do not diſſemble; but tell me frankly that you will never ſee me more. I will then adopt the plan I mentioned to you—for we muſt either live together, or I will be entirely independent.
My heart is ſo oppreſſed, I cannot write with preciſion—You know however that what I ſo imperfectly expreſs, are not the crude ſentiments of the moment—You can only contribute to my comfort (it is the conſolation I am in need of) by being with me—and, if the tendereſt friendſhip is of any value, why will you not look to me for a degree of ſatiſfaction that heartleſs affections cannot beſtow?
Tell me then, will you determine to meet me at Baſle?—I ſhall, I ſhould imagine, be at ——— before the cloſe of Auguſt; and, after you ſettle your affairs at Paris, could we not meet there?
God bleſs you!
Yours truly
* * * *
Poor ——— has ſuffered during the journey with her teeth.
LETTER LV
July 3.