'My letter having been delayed a few days, through a mistake--I resume my pen; for, running my eye over what I had written, I perceive (confounded by the force of your expressions) I have granted you too much. My conduct was not, altogether, so insane as I have been willing to allow. It is certain, that could I have attained the end proposed, my happiness had been encreased. "It is necessary for me to love and admire, or I sink into sadness." The behaviour of the man, whom I sought to move, appeared to me too inconsistent to be the result of _indifference_. To be roused and stimulated by obstacles--obstacles admitting hope, because obscurely seen--is no mark of weakness. Could I have subdued, what I, _then_, conceived to be the _prejudices_ of a worthy man, I could have increased both his happiness and my own. I deeply reasoned, and philosophized, upon the subject. Perseverance, with little ability, has effected wonders;--with perseverance, I felt, that, I had the power of uniting ability--confiding in that power, I was the dupe of my own reason. No other man, perhaps, could have acted the part which this man has acted:--how, then, was I to take such a part into my calculations? 'Do not misconceive me--it is no miracle that I did not inspire affection. On this subject, the mortification I have suffered has humbled me, it may be, even, unduly in my own eyes--but to the emotions of my pride, I would disdain to give words. Whatever may have been my feelings, I am too proud to express the rage of slighted love!--Yet, I am sensible to all the powers of those charming lines of Pope-- "Unequal talk, a passion to resign, For hearts so touch'd, so pierc'd, so lost, as mine! Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state, How often must it love, how often hate; How often hope, despair, resent, regret, Conceal, disdain, _do all things but forget_!" 'But to return. I pursued, comparatively, (as I thought) a certain good; and when, at times, discouraged, I have repeated to myself--What! after all these pains, shall I relinquish my efforts, when, perhaps, on the very verge of success?--To say nothing of the difficulty of forcing an active mind out of its trains--if I desisted, what was to be the result? The sensations I now feel--apathy, stagnation, abhorred vacuity!