exhortations, to bear up against the fear of want. Though poor, provided we are happy, what a treasure will be in our possession! but let us not so insult either the dignity or the humanity of the species, as to suppose that this vast world cannot furnish an Asylum for two unfortunate lovers. But we need not despair while I have health and strength; the bread earned by the sweat of my brow will be more relishing to you, than the most costly banquet that luxury could prepare. And indeed can any repast, provided and seasoned by love, be insipid? Oh my angel, if our happiness were sure to last us but one day, could you cruelly resolve, to quit this life, without tasting it? One word more, and I have done. You know, Eloisa, the use which was formerly made of the rock of Leucatia; it was the last sad refuge of disappointed lovers. The place I am now in, and my own distressed situation, bear but too close a resemblance. The rock is craggy, the water deep, and I am in despair. Letter XXVII. From Clara. I have been lately so distracted with care and grief, that it is with much difficulty I have been able to summon sufficient strength for writing. Your misfortunes and mine are now at their utmost crisis. In short, the lovely Eloisa is very dangerously ill, and ere this can reach you, may perhaps be no more. The mortification she underwent in parting with you, first brought on her disorder, which was considerably increased by some very interesting discourse she has since had with her father. This has been still heightened by circumstances of additional aggravation, and as if all this were too little, your last letter came in aid, and compleatd, alas, what was already scarce supportable. The perusal of it affected her so sensibly, that after a whole night of violent agitations and cruel struggles, she was seized with a high fever which has increased to such a degree, that she is now delirious. Even in this situation she is perpetually calling for you, and speaks of you with such emotions as plainly point out, that you alone are the object of her more sober thoughts. Her father is kept out of the way as much as possible, which is no inconsiderable proof that my aunt suspects the truth. She has even asked me, with some anxiety, when you intended to return? so entirely does her concern for her daughter outweigh every other consideration! I dare say she would not be sorry to see you here. Come then, I intreat you, as soon as you possibly can. I have hired a man and boat to transmit this to you; he will wait your orders, and you may come with him. Indeed if you ever expect to see our devoted Eloisa alive, you must not lose an instant. Letter XXVIII. From Eloisa to Clara.