only love, for the opportunity you
gave me of clearing it up; and for being generously ready to acquit me of
intentional blame, the moment you had read my melancholy narrative.

As you are so earnest to have all the particulars of my sad story before
you, I will, if life and spirits be lent me, give you an ample account of
all that has befallen me, from the time you mention. But this, it is
very probable, you will not see, till after the close of my last scene:
and as I shall write with a view to that, I hope no other voucher will be
wanted for the veracity of the writer, be who will the reader.

I am far from thinking myself out of the reach of this man's further
violence. But what can I do? Whither can I fly?--Perhaps my bad state
of health (which must grow worse, as recollection of the past evils, and
reflections upon them, grow heavier and heavier upon me) may be my
protection. Once, indeed, I thought of going abroad; and, had I the
prospect of many years before me, I would go.--But, my dear, the blow is
given.--Nor have you reason now, circumstanced as I am, to be concerned
that it is. What a heart must I have, if it be not broken--and indeed,
my dear friend, I do so earnestly wish for the last closing scene, and
with so much comfort find myself in a declining way, that I even
sometimes ungratefully regret that naturally-healthy constitution, which
used to double upon me all my enjoyments.

As to the earnestly-recommended prosecution, I may possibly touch upon it
more largely hereafter, if ever I shall have better spirits; for they are
at present extremely sunk and low. But just now, I will only say, that I
would sooner suffer every evil (the repetition of the capital one
excepted) than appear publicly in a court to do myself justice.* And I
am heartily grieved that your mother prescribes such a measure as the
condition of our future correspondence: for the continuance of your
friendship, my dear, and the desire I had to correspond with you to my
life's end, were all my remaining hopes and consolation. Nevertheless,
as that friendship is in the power of the heart, not of the hand only, I
hope I shall not forfeit that.

* Dr. Lewen, in Letter XXIV. of Vol. VIII. presses her to this public
prosecution, by arguments worthy of his character; which she answers in a
manner worthy of her's. See Letter XXV. of that volume.

O my dear! what would I give to obtain a revocation of my father's
malediction! a