'You would oblige me exceedingly by the remarks you allow me to hope for, on my letter of the ----th. You know, I will not shrink from reproof--that letter afforded you the last proof of my affection, and I repent not of it. I loved you, first, for what, I conceived, high qualities of mind--from nature and association, my tenderness became personal--till at length, I loved you, not only rationally and tenderly--_but passionately_--it became a pervading and a devouring fire! And, yet, I do not blush--my affection was modest, if intemperate, _for it was individual_--it annihilated in my eyes every other man in the creation. I regret these natural sensations and affections, their forcible suppression injures the mind--it converts the mild current of gentle, and genial sympathies, into a destructive torrent. This, I have the courage to avow it, has been one of the miserable mistakes in morals, and, like all other partial remedies, has increased the evil, it was intended to correct. From monastic institutions and principles have flowed, as from a polluted source, streams, that have at once spread through society a mingled contagion of dissoluteness and hypocrisy. 'You have suddenly arrested my affections in their full career--in all their glowing effervescence--you have taken "The rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love, And placed a blister there." 'And, yet, I survive the shock, and determine to live, not for future enjoyment--that is now, for ever, past--_but for future usefulness_--Is not this virtue? 'I am sorry your attachment has been and I fear is likely to be, protracted--I know, too well, the misery of these situations, and I should, now, feel a melancholy satisfaction in hearing of its completion--In that completion, may you experience no disappointment! I do not wish you to be beloved, as I have loved you; this, perhaps, is unnecessary; such an affection, infallibly, enslaves the heart that cherishes it; and slavery is the tomb of virtue and of peace. 'I believe it would not be proper for us to meet again--at least at present--should I hear of sickness, or calamity, befalling you, I shall, I suspect, be impelled, by an irresistible impulse to seek you--but I will no more interrupt your repose--Though you have contemned my affection, my friendship will still follow you.