I fear I have relapsed—sent afresh for my Doctor—who has confined me to my sopha—being able neither to walk, stand or sit upright, without aggravating my Symptoms—I’m still to be treated as if I was a Sinner—& in truth have some appearances so strongly implying it, That was I not conscious I had had no Commerce with the Sex these 15 Years, I would decamp to morrow for Montpellier in the South of France, where Maladies of this sort are better treated & all taints more radically driven out of the Blood—than in this Country; but If I continue long ill—I am still determined to repair there—not to undergo a Cure of a distemper I cannot have, but for the bettering my Constitution by a better Climate.—I write this as I lie upon my back—in w^{ch}. posture I must continue, I fear some days—If I am able—will take up my pen again before night— * * * * * 4 o’clock.—an hour dedicated to Eliza! for I have dined alone—& ever since the Cloath has been laid, have done nothing but call upon thy dear Name—and ask why ’tis not permitted thou shouldst sit down, & share my Macarel & fowl—there would be enough, said Molly as she placed it upon the Table to have served both You & poor M^{rs}. Draper—I never bring in the knives & forks, added she, but I think of her—There was no more trouble with you both, than w^{th}. one of You—I never heard a high or a hasty word from either of You—You were surely made, added Molly, for one another, you are both so kind so quiet & so friendly—Molly furnished me with Sause to my Meat—for I wept my plate full, Eliza! & now I have begun, could shed tears till Supper again—& then go to bed weeping for thy absence till morning. Thou hast bewitch’d me with powers, my dear Girl, from which no power shall unlose me—and if fate can put this Journel of my Love into thy hands, before we meet, I know with what warmth it will inflame the kindest of hearts, to receive me. peace be with thee, my Eliza, till that happy moment! * * * * *