This, Louisa, brought on a long discussion. I and your brother both endeavoured to convince him it was his duty to remain in England; that he could be more serviceable here, and would find better opportunities for effecting that good which he had so warmly at heart than in any other country. He answered that, though he was not convinced by our arguments, he should think it his duty seriously to consider them. But we could not make him promise any thing further. Previous to his return from Wenbourne Hill he would determine. Indeed, Louisa, this affair lies very heavily upon my mind. I am incessantly accusing myself as the cause of his exile. And am I not? By the manner of Sir Arthur I am sure he must have said something very highly in my praise. I have gone too far with your brother to recede: that is now impossible. It would be more flagrant injustice than even the wrong to Frank, if a wrong it be, and indeed, Louisa, I dread it is!--Indeed I do!--I dread it even with a kind of horror! I thought reason would have appeased these doubts ere this; but every occasion I find calls them forth with unabated vigour. Surely this mental blindness must be the result of neglect. Had we but the will, the determination, it might be removed. Oh how reprehensible is my inconsistency! The rapid decline of Mrs. Clifton grieves me deeply. Your brother too has frequently mentioned it with feelings honourable to his heart. He is now more than ever sensible of her worth. He has been with me since I began to write this letter, and there is not the least appearance of remaining umbrage on his mind. It was indeed but of short duration, though too strong and sudden not to be apparent. All kindness, peace, and felicity be with you. A. W. ST. IVES LETTER LXXXVIII _Coke Clifton to Guy Fairfax_ _London, Dover Street_ I will curse no more, Fairfax. Or, if curse I do, it shall be at my own fatuity. I will not be the dilatory, languid, ranting, moralizing Hamlet of the drama; that has the vengeance of hell upon his lips and the charity of heaven in his heart. I will use not speak daggers-- Fairfax, I am mad!--Raging!--The smothered and pent-up mania must have vent--What! Was not the page sufficiently black before?--I am amazed at my own infatuation! My very soul spurns at it!--But 'tis past--Deceitful, damned sex!--Idiot that I was, I began to fancy myself beloved!--I!--Blind, deaf, insensate driveler!--Torpid, blockish, brainless mammet!--Most sublime ass!--Oh for a bib and barley sugar, with the label _Meacock_ pinned before and behind!-- Fairfax, I never can forgive my own absurd and despicable stupidity!--Marriage?--What, with a woman in whose eye the perfect impression and hated form of a mean rival is depicted?--In colours glowing hot!--Who lives, revels, triumphs in her heart!--I marry such a woman?--I?-- 'I had rather be a toad, And live upon the vapour of a dungeon, Than keep a corner in the thing I love For other's use.'