I am rather glad however of the opportunity which this accident has given me, of saying somewhat to you on the subject of jealousy; a subject which, alas, but too nearly concerns me. I see, my dear friend, by the similitude of our tempers and near alliance of our dispositions, that love alone will be the great business of our lives: and surely when such impressions as we feel have been once made, love must either extinguish or absorb every other passion. The least relaxation in our passion must inevitably produce a most dangerous lethargy: a total apathy, an indifference to every enjoyment, and a disrelish of every present comfort would very soon take place if our affections were once cooled, and indeed life itself would then become a burthen. With respect to myself, you cannot but perceive, that the present transports of my passion could alone veil over the horror of my disastrous situation, and the sad alternative proposed to my choice, is the extravagance of love, or a death of despair. Judge then if after this I am able to determine a point on which the happiness or misery of my future life so absolutely depends. If I may be allowed to know any thing of my own temper and disposition, though I am oftentimes distracted with violent emotions, it is but seldom that their influence can hurry me into action. My sorrows must have preyed on my heart for a long time before I could ever be prevailed on to discover the source of them to their author; and being firmly persuaded that there can be no offence without intention, I would much rather submit to a thousand real subjects of complaint than ever come to an explanation. A disposition of this kind will neither easily give way to suspicion, nor be anxiously concerned at the jealousy of others. Oh, shield me, gracious heaven, from the tormenting pangs of causeless jealousy! I am fully assured that your heart was made for mine and for no other; but self-deceit is of all others the most easy imposition: a transient liking is often mistaken for a real passion, as it is difficult to distinguish the effects of sudden fancy from the result of a sincere and settled affection. If you yourself can doubt your own constancy without any reason, how could you blame me were I capable of mistrusting you? But that way leads to misery. So cruel a doubt as that would imbitter the remainder of my life. I should sigh in secret without complaining, and die an inconsolable martyr to my passion.