Upon my soul, Sedley, you are a pretty father confessor, and give pious admonition! I am quite _indignant_ at your answer to my first letter from Catania; either you or I must be greatly changed since we parted. I don't think our friendship could ever have been formed, if in the first instance our sentiments had been so dissimilar. I must honestly tell you, that if you ever write me such another letter about Adelina, our correspondence ceases on that head. It is true this charming Sicilian maid is fairer than Proserpine; but am I Pluto, that could tear her from the arms of her fond parent, and from the bright sphere she now moves in, to condemn her to the shades of woe, from which she could know no return? So powerfully do I feel "the might, the majesty of loveliness," that such a thought never entered my head, nor would it yours, if you had ever seen her; for one glance of her angelic eye would, like the touch of Ithuriel's spear, put to flight all the offspring of evil. Since I wrote to you last, Adelina's manner to me has totally changed; I scarcely ever see her when I come to the villa. I can't tell what to attribute this to, unless she thinks I have said too much and too little. The matter shan't rest long in doubt;--her father goes to Catania to-morrow, and I will take that opportunity for a complete explanation. I cannot tell you how much I dread the crisis of my fate so near at hand! No folly of my own shall deprive me of a wife possessed of every charm, and every virtue, that can sweeten or adorn life. If it did, I should deserve to be condemned to that matrimonial limbo my father and his frigid Venus are so pitiably bound in. I would prefer to such a trial the most ardent Purgatory! A wife so charming and so unloving would drive me mad! Yours truly, FREDERICK ELTON.