I am yours, Clarinda, for life. Never be discouraged at all this. Look forward; in a few weeks I shall be somewhere or other out of the possibility of seeing you: till then I shall write you often, but visit you seldom. Your fame, your welfare, your happiness are dearer to me than any gratification whatever. Be comforted, my love! the present moment is the worst; the lenient hand of Time is daily and hourly either lightening the burden, or making us insensible to the weight. None of these friends, I mean Mr.---- and the other gentleman, can hurt your worldly support; and for their friendship, in a little time you will learn to be easy, and, by and by, to be happy without it. A decent means of livelihood in the world, an approving God, a peaceful conscience, and one firm, trusty friend--can anybody that has these be said to be unhappy? These are yours. To-morrow evening I shall be with you about eight; probably for the last time till I return to Edinburgh. In the meantime, should any of these two unlucky friends question you respecting me, whether I am the man, I do not think they are entitled to any information. As to their jealousy and spying, I despise them.--Adieu, my dearest Madam! SYLVANDER. * * * * XXIX. GLASGOW, _Monday Evening, 9 o'clock, 18th Feb. 1788._ The attraction of love, I find, is in an inverse proportion to the attraction of the Newtonian philosophy. In the system of Sir Isaac, the nearer objects are to one another, the stronger is the attractive force; in my system, every mile-stone that marked my progress from Clarinda, awakened a keener pang of attachment to her. How do you feel, my love? Is your heart ill at ease? I fear it.--God forbid that these persecutors should harass that peace, which is more precious to me than my own. Be assured I shall ever think of you, muse on you, and, in my moments of devotion, pray for you. The hour that you are not in all my thoughts--"be that hour darkness! let the shadows of death cover it! let it not be numbered in the hours of the day!" When I forget the darling theme, Be my tongue mute! my fancy paint no more! And, dead to joy, forget, my heart, to beat! I have just met with my old friend, the ship captain;[72] guess my pleasure--to meet you could alone have given me more. My brother William, too, the young saddler, has come to Glasgow to meet me; and here are we three spending the evening. I arrived here too late to write by post; but I'll wrap half a dozen sheets of blank paper together, and send it by the fly, under the name of a parcel. You shall hear from me next post town. I would write you a long letter, but for the present circumstance of my friend. Adieu, my Clarinda! I am just going to propose your health by way of grace-drink. SYLVANDER. [Footnote 72: Richard Brown, whom he first knew at Irvine.] * * * * XXX. CUMNOCK, _2nd March_ 1788.