'I make no apologies for, because I feel no consciousness of, weakness. An attachment sanctioned by nature, reason, and virtue, ennoble the mind capable of conceiving and cherishing it: of such an attachment a corrupt heart is utterly incapable. 'You may tell me, perhaps, "that the portrait on which my fancy has dwelt enamoured, owes all its graces, its glowing colouring--like the ideal beauty of the ancient artists--to the imagination capable of sketching the dangerous picture."--Allowing this, for a moment, _the sentiments it inspires are not the less genuine_; and without some degree of illusion, and enthusiasm, all that refines, exalts, softens, embellishes, life--genius, virtue, love itself, languishes. But, on this subject, my opinions have not been lightly formed:--it is not to the personal graces, though "the body charms, because the mind is seen," but to the virtues and talents of the individual (for without intellect, virtue is an empty name), that my heart does homage; and, were I never again to behold you--were you even the husband of another--my tenderness (a tenderness as innocent as it is lively) would never cease! 'But, methinks, I hear you say,--"Whither does all this tend, and what end does it propose?" Alas! this is a question I scarcely dare to ask myself!--Yet, allow me to request, that you will make me one promise, and resolve me one question:--ah! do not evade this enquiry; for much it imports me to have an explicit reply, lest, in indulging my own feelings, I should, unconsciously, plant a thorn in the bosom of another:--_Is your heart, at present, free?_ Or should you, in future, form a tender engagement, tell me, that I shall receive the first intimation of it from yourself; and, in the assurance of your happiness, I will learn to forget my own. 'I aspire to no higher title than that of the most faithful of your friends, and the wish of becoming worthy of your esteem and confidence shall afford me a motive for improvement. I will learn of you moderation, equanimity, and self-command, and you will, perhaps, continue to afford me direction, and assistance, in the pursuit of knowledge and truth. 'I have laid down my pen, again and again, and still taken it up to add something more, from an anxiety, lest even you, of whose delicacy I have experienced repeated proofs, should misconstrue me.--"Oh! what a world is this!--into what false habits has it fallen! Can hypocrisy be virtue? Can a desire to call forth all the best affections of the heart, be misconstrued into something too degrading for expression?"[6] But I will banish these apprehensions; I am convinced they are injurious.