5 in the afternoon—I have just been eating my Chicking, sitting over my repast upon it, with Tears—a bitter Sause—Eliza! but I could eat it with no other—when Molly spread the Table Cloath, my heart fainted within me—one solitary plate—one knife—one fork—one Glass!—O Eliza! ’twas painfully distressing,—I gave a thousand pensive penetrating Looks at the Arm chair thou so often graced on these quiet, sentimental Repasts—& sighed & laid down my knife & fork,—& took out my handkerchief, clap’d it across my face & wept like a child—I shall read the same affecting acc^t. of many a sad Dinner w^{ch}. Eliza has had no power to taste of, from the same feelings & recollections, how She and her Bramin have eat their bread in peace and Love together. * * * * * April 17. with my friend M^{rs}. James in Gerard street, with a present of Colours & apparatus for painting:—Long Conversation about thee my Eliza—sunk my heart w{th}. an infamous acc^t. of Draper & his detested Character at Bombay—for what a wretch art thou hazarding thy life, my dear friend, & what thanks is his nature capable of returning?—thou wilt be repaid with Injuries & Insults! Still there is a blessing in store for the meek and gentle, and Eliza will not be disinherited of it: her Bramin is kept alive by this hope only—otherwise he is so sunk both in Spirits and looks, Eliza would scarce know him again. Dined alone again to day; & begin to feel a pleasure in this kind of resigned misery arising from this situation of heart unsupported by aught but its own tenderness—Thou owest me much Eliza!—& I will have patience; for thou wilt pay me all—But the Demand is equal; much I owe thee, & with much shalt thou be requited.——sent for a Chart of the Atlantic Ocean, to make conjectures upon what part of it my Treasure was floating—O! ’tis but a little way off—and I could venture after it in a Boat, methinks—I’m sure I could, was I to know Eliza was in distress—but fate has chalk’d out other roads for us—We must go on with many a weary step, each in his separate heartless track, till Nature—— * * * * * Ap: 18. This day set up my Carriage,—new Subject of heartache, That Eliza is not here to share it with me. Bought Orm’s account of India—why? Let not my Bramine ask me—her heart will tell her why I do this, & every Thing— * * * * *