I think my dear Bramine—That nature is turn’d upside down—for Wives go to visit Husbands, at greater perils & take longer journies to pay them this Civility now a days out of ill Will—than good—Mine is flying post a Journey of a thousand Miles—with as many miles to go back—merely to see how I do, & whether I am fat or lean—& how far are you going to see y^r. Helpmate—and at such hazards to Y^r. Life, as few Wives’ best affections w^d. be able to surmount—But Duty & Submission Eliza govern thee—by what impulses my Rib is bent towards me—I have told you—& yet I w^d. to God, Draper but rec^d. & treated you with half the courtesy & good nature—I wish you was with him—for the same reason I wish my Wife at Coxwould—That She might the sooner depart in peace—She is ill—of a Diarhea which she has from a weakness on her bowels ever since her paralitic Stroke—Travelling post in hot weather, is not the best remedy for her—but my girl says—she is determined to venture—She wrote me word in Winter, She w^d. not leave france, till her end approach’d—surely this journey is not prophetic! but twould invert the order of Things on the other side of this Leaf—and what is to be on the next _Leaf_—The Fates, Eliza only can tell us—rest satisfied. * * * * * June 21. have left off all medicines—not caring to tear my frame to pieces with ’em—as I feel perfectly well.—set out for Crasy Castle to morrow morning—where I stay ten days—take my Sentimental Voyage—and this Journal with me, as certain as the two first Wheels of my Chariot—I cannot go on without them.—I long to see y^{rs}.—I shall read it a thousand times over If I get it before y^r. arrival—What w^d. I now give for it—tho’ I know there are _circumstances_ in it, That will make my heart bleed & waste within me—_but if all blows over_—’tis enough—we will not recount our Sorrows, but to shed tears of Joy over them—O Eliza! Eliza! Heaven nor any Being it created, never so possessed a Man’s heart—as thou possessest mine—use it kindly—Hussy—that is, eternally be true to it. * * * * * June 22. Ive been as far as York to day with no Soul with me in my Chase, but y^r. Picture—for it has a _Soul_ I think—or something like one which has talk’d to me, & been the best Company I ever took a Journey with (always excepting a Journey I once took with a friend of y^{rs}. to Salt hill, & Enfield Wash—The pleasure I had in those Journies, have left _Impressions_ upon my Mind, which will last my Life—You may tell her as much when You see her—she will not take it ill—I set out early to morrow morning to see M^r. Hall—but take my Journal along with me. * * * * * June 24^{th}.