titude, and rejoice to the end of our pilgrimage.

Adieu, my L. Return to one who languishes for thy fociety.

LETTER II.

TO THE SAME.

L. STERNE,

you

ou bid me tell you, my dear L., how I bore your departure for S-, and whether the valley where D'Eftella ftands, retains still its looksor, if I think the rofes or jeffamines finell as fweet, as when you left itAlas! every thing has now loft its relish and look! The hour you left D'Eftella, I took to my bed.-I was worn out with fevers of all kinds, but moft by that fever of the heart with which thou knowest well I have been wafting thefe two years

and fhall continue wafting till you quit S. The good Mifs S-, from the forebodings of the best of

4

hearts, thinking I was ill, infifted upon my going to her.-What can be the caufe, my dear L., that I never have been able to fee the face of this mutual friend, but I feel myfelf rent to pieces? She made me stay an hour with her, and in that short space I burft into tears a dozen different times-and in fuch affectionate gufts of paffion, that she was constrained to leave the room, and sympathize in her dreffing-room-I have been weeping for you both, faid fhe, in a tone of the sweetest pity-for poor L.'s heart, I have long known it-her anguish is as sharp as yours-her heart as tender-her constancy as great—her virtues as heroic-Heaven brought you not together to be tormented. I could only anfwer her with a kind look, and a heavy figh-and returned home to your lodgings (which I have hired till your return), to refign myself to miferyFanny had prepared me a fupper-she is all attention to me-but I fat over it with tears; a bitter fauce, my L., but I could eat it with no other-for the mo

ment fhe began to spread my little table, my heart fainted within me.-One folitary plate, one knife, one fork, one glafs-I gave a thousand penfive, penetrating looks at the chair thou hadft fo often graced, in thofe quiet and fentimental repafts-then laid down my knife and fork, and took out my handkerchief, and clapped it across my face, and wept like a child.-I do fo this very moment, my L.; for, as I take up my pen, my poor pulfe quickens, my pale face glows, and tears are trickling down upon the paper, as I trace the word L

thou! bleffed in thyfelf, and in thy virtues-bleffed to all that know thee-to me moft fo, because more do I know of thee than all thy fex.-This is the philtre, my L., by which thou haft charmed me, and by which thou wilt hold me thine, whilft virtue and faith hold this world together.-This, my friend, is the plain and fimple magic, by which I told Mifs I have won a place in that heart of thine, on which I depend fo fa

tisfied, that time, or diftance, or change of every thing which might alarm the hearts of little men, create no uneafy fufpenfe in mine-Waft thou to stay in S these seven years, thy friend, though he would grieve, fcorns to doubt, or to be doubted-'tis the only exception. where fecurity is not the parent of danger. I told you poor Fanny was all attention to me fince your departurecontrives every day bringing in the name of L. She told me last night (upon giving me fome hartfhorn), fhe had observed my illness began the very day of your departure for S; that I had never held up my head, had feldom, or fcarce ever, smiled, had fled from all fociety-that fhe verily believed I was broken-hearted, for fhe had never entered the room, or paffed by the door, but she heard me figh heavily--that I neither eat, or flept, or took pleasure in any thing as before;-judge then, my L., can the valley look fo well-or the roses and jeffamines smell so sweet as hereto

fore? Ah me!-But adieu-the vefper bell calls me from thee to my God!

L. STERNE.

LETTER III.

B

TO THE SAME.

EFORE now my L. has lodged an indictment against me in the high court of Friendship-I plead guilty to the charge, and intirely submit to the mercy of that amiable tribunal.-Let this mitigate my punishment, if it will not expiate my tranfgreffion-do not fay that I fhall offend again in the fame manner, though a too eafy pardon fometimes occafions a repetition of the fame fault. A mifer fays, though I do no good with my money to-day, to-morrow fhall be marked with fome deed of beneficence. The Libertine fays, let me enjoy this week in forbidden and luxurious pleasures, and the next I will dedicate to ferious thought and reflection. The Gamefter fays, let me have