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July 29.

OH! No;'tiswelWtisallwell. —Me her husband! Eternal Power that gave me being, if thou hadst destined such happiness for me, my whole life would have been one continual thanksgiving! But I will not murmur against thejs: forgive my tears, forgive my fruitless vows? *"■ She might have beeti mine; I might have folded in these arms all tjiat is lovely under Heaven '■'-■My whole frame is convulsed when Al-" bert puts his arm round her waist. Shall I say it ?-r And why should E 4 I not

I not say it ?—She would have been happier with me than with' him. Albert was not made for her: he wants a certain sensibility; he wants —in short their hearts do not bqat in unison. Ah! my dear friend, how often in reading an interesting passage, where my heart and Charlotte's seemed to meet; and when our sentiments were unfolded by the story and situation of a fictitious character, how often have I- seen and felt, that we were made to understand each other? Alas, my friend! —But this worthy man loves her with all his soul; and what does not such love deserve?

. . I have

I have been interrupted by an insufferable visit. I have dried up my tears, and my thoughts are a little dissipated. Adieu, my dearest friend.


August 4. TAM not alone unfortunate; men *- are all disappointed in their hopes, and all their schemes fall to the ground. 1 have been to see the good woman under the lime-trees. Yh,e eldest boy ran to meet me; he screamed for joy, and that brought out his mother. She looked very melancholy. "Alas! my good Sir,"

said said she, " our poor little Jenny is dead ■" (that was the youngest of her children). I answered nothing—* V And my husband," she continued, "came back from Holland without any money: he was taken ill with a fever; and if some good people had not relieved him, he must have been obliged to beg bis bread along the road. I could say nothing to her: I gaye some money to the boy; and &s offered me some apples, which I accepted, and full of sorrow left the place.


August 21. Ti ÆY sensations change-with the «*■▼-*- rapidity of lightning. Sometimes a ray of joy seems to give me new life —Alas! it disappears in a moment. When I am thus last hi reveries, I cannot help laying to myself—" If Albert was to die,. I should be—yes, Charlotte would"— and 1 pursue the chimera till it leads me to the edge of a precipice, from which I start back and shudder. When I go out at the same gate, when I take the same road which conducted me for the first time towards

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