But yet, think not, O best beloved of my heart! that I have any boon
to beg, any favour to ask, either for myself or for my friends, or so
much as the _continuance_ of your favour, to the one or the other. As
to them, you have prevented and exceeded all my wishes: as to myself,
if it please God to spare me, I know I shall always be rewarded beyond
my desert, let my deservings be what they will. I have only therefore
to acknowledge with the deepest sense of your goodness to me, and with
the most heart-affecting gratitude, that from the happy, the thrice
happy hour, that you so generously made me yours, till _this_ moment,
you have not left one thing, on my own part, to wish for, but the
continuance and increase of your felicity, and that I might be still
worthier of the unexampled goodness, tenderness, and condescension,
wherewith you have always treated me.

No, my dearest, my best beloved master, friend, husband, my _first_,
my _last_, and _only_ love! believe me, I have nothing to wish for but
your honour and felicity, temporal and eternal; and I make no doubt,
that God, in his infinite goodness and mercy, will perfect his own
good work, begun in your dear heart; and, whatever may now happen,
give us a happy meeting, never more to part from one another.

Let me then beg of you, my dearest protector, to pardon all my
imperfections and defects; and if, ever since I have had the honour
to be yours, I have in _looks_, or in _word_, or in _deed_, given you
cause to wish me other than I was, that you will kindly put it to the
score of natural infirmity (for in _thought_ or _intention_, I can
truly boast, I have never wilfully erred). Your tenderness, and
generous politeness to me, always gave me apprehension, that I was not
what you wished me to be, because you would not find fault with me so
often as I fear I deserved: and this makes me beg of you to do, as
I hope God Almighty will, pardon all my involuntary errors and
omissions.

But let me say one word for my dear worthy Mrs. Jervis. Her care and
fidelity will be very necessary for your affairs, dear Sir, while you
remain single, which I hope will not be long. But, whenever you make a
second choice, be pleased to allow her such an annuity as may make
her independent, and pass away the remainder of her life with ease and
comfort. And this I the rather presume to request, as my late honoured
lady once intimated the same thing to you. If I were to name what
that may be,