wrote a kind Letter of enquiry after Yorick and his Bramine—he is a good Soul—& interests himself much in our fate—I have wrote him a whole Sheet[30] of paper ab^t. us—it ought to have been copied into this Journal—but the uncertainty of y^r. ever reading it, makes me omit that, with a thousand other things, which when we meet, shall beguile us of many a long winters night.—_those precious Nights!_—my Eliza! You rate them as high as I do—& look back upon the manner the hours glided over our heads in them, with the same Interest & Delight as the Man you _spent them with_—They are all that remains to us—except the _Expectation_ of their return—the Space between us is a dismal Void—full of doubts & suspence—Heaven & its kindest Spirits, my dear rest over y^r. thoughts by day—& free them from all disturbance at night adieu—adieu Eliza!—I have got over this Month—so fare wel to it, & the Sorrows it has brought with it—the next month, I prophecy will be worse. * * * * * July 1.—But who can foretell what a month may produce—Eliza—I have no less than seven different chances—not one of w^{ch}. is improbable—and any one of [’em] would set me much at Liberty—& some of ’em render me compleatly happy—as they w^d. facilitate & open the road to thee—what these chances are I leave thee to conjecture, my Eliza—some of them You cannot divine—tho’ I once hinted them to You—but those are pecuniary chances arising out of my Prebend—& so not likely to stick in thy brain—nor could they occupy mine a moment, but on thy acc^t. … I hope before I meet thee Eliza on the Beach, to have every thing plan’d; that depends on me properly—& for what depends upon him who orders every Event for us, to him I leave & trust it—We shall be happy at last I know—’tis the Corner Stone of all my Castles—&’tis all I bargain for. I am perfectly recovered—or more than recover’d—for never did I feel such Indications of health or Strength & promptness of mind—notwithstanding the Cloud hanging over me of a Visit—& all its tormenting consequences—Hall has wrote an affecting little poem upon it—the next time I see him, I will get it, & transcribe it in this Journal, for You.... He has persuaded me to trust her with no more than fifteen hundred pounds into Franc[e]—twil purchase 150 p^{ds}. a year—& to let the rest come annually from myself—the advice is wise enough, If I can get her off with it—I’ll summon up the Husband a little (if I can)—& keep the 500 p^{ds}. remaining for emergencies—who knows, Eliza, what sort of Emergencies may cry out for it—I conceive some—& you Eliza are not backward in Conception—so may conceive others. _I wish I was in Arno’s Vale!_— * * * * *