ded a great friendship for me)--when in competition with
one who, if he never should see you again, would make you the
saint of his memory. These laughers, who do not like you, who
envy you for your beauty, who would have God-blessed me from you
for ever, who were plying me with discouragements with respect to
you eternally! People are revengeful: do not mind them. Do
nothing but love me: if I knew that for certain, life and health
will in such event be a heaven, and death itself will be less
painful. I long to believe in immortality: I shall never be able
to bid you an entire farewell. If I am destined to be happy with
you here, how short is the longest life! I wish to believe in
immortality--I wish to live with you for ever. Do not let my name
ever pass between you and those laughers: if I have no other
merit than the great love for you, that were sufficient to keep
me sacred and unmentioned in such society. If I have been cruel
and unjust, I swear my love has ever been greater than my
cruelty--which lasts but a minute, whereas my love, come what
will, shall last for ever. If concession to me has hurt your
pride, God knows I have had little pride in my heart when
thinking of you. Your name never passes my lips--do not let mine
pass yours. Those people do not like me.

"After reading my letter, you even then wish to see me. I am
strong enough to walk over: but I dare not--I shall feel so much
pain in parting with you again. My dearest love, I am afraid to
see you: I am strong, but not strong enough to see you. Will my
arm be ever round you again, and, if so, shall I be obliged to
leave you again?

"My sweet love, I am happy whilst I believe your first letter.
Let me be but certain that you are mine heart and soul, and I
could die more happily than I could otherwise live. If you think
me cruel, if you think I have slighted you, do muse it over
again, and see into my heart. My love to you is 'true as truth's
simplicity, and simpler than the infancy of truth'--as I think I
once said before. How could I slight you? how threaten to leave
you? Not in the spirit of a threat to you--no, but in the spirit
of wretchedness in myself. My fairest, my delicious, my angel
Fanny, do not believe me such a vulgar fellow. I will be as
patient in illness and as believing in love as I am able."

(III.)

(This is the last