The satisfaction of a benevolent heart will ever be its own recompense; but not its _only_ reward, as you have sweetly assured me, by the advertisement that blessed my eyes last night. I beheld, with pleasure, that my admonitions have not lost their intended effect. I should have been most cruelly disappointed, and have given up my knowledge of the human heart as imperfect, had I found you incorrigible to my advice. But I have heretofore told you, I was thoroughly acquainted with the excellencies of your mind. Your renunciation of your favourite game, and cards in general, give every reason to justify my sentiments of you. I have formed the most exalted idea of you.--And you alone can destroy the altar I have raised to your divinity. All the incense I dare hope to receive from you, is a just and implicit observance of my dictates, while _they_ are influenced by virtue, of which none but you can properly judge, since to none but yourself they are addressed. Doubts, I am convinced, may arise in your mind concerning this invisible agency. As far as is necessary, I will satisfy those doubts. But to be for ever concealed from your knowledge as to identity, your own good sense will see too clearly the necessity of, to need any illustration from my pen. If I admired you before--how much has that admiration encreased from the chearful acquiescence you have paid to my injunctions! Go on, then, my beloved charge! Pursue the road of _virtue_; and be assured, however rugged the path, and tedious the way, you will, one day, arrive at the goal, and find _her_ "in her own form--how lovely!" I had almost said, as lovely as yourself. Perhaps, you will think this last expression too warm, and favouring more of the man--than the Rosicrusian philosopher.--But be not alarmed. By the most rigid observance of virtue it is we attain this superiority over the rest of mankind; and only by this course can we maintain it--we are not, however, divested of our sensibilities; nay, I believe, as they have not been vitiated by contamination, they are more _tremblingly alive_ than other mortals usually are. In the human character, I could be of no use to you; in the Sylphiad, of the utmost. Look on me, then, only in the light of a preternatural being--and if my sentiments should sometimes flow in a more earthly stile--yet, take my word as a Sylph, they shall never be such as shall corrupt your heart. To guard it from the corruptions of mortals, is my sole view in the lectures I have given, or shall from time to time give you.