Tuesday, Aug. 16.332

Thank thee, Jack; most heartily I thank thee, for the sober conclusion of thy last!⁠—I have a good mind, for the sake of it, to forgive thy till now absolutely unpardonable extracts.

But dost think I will lose such an angel, such a forgiving angel, as this?⁠—By my soul, I will not!⁠—To pray for mercy for such an ungrateful miscreant!⁠—how she wounds me, how she cuts me to the soul, by her exalted generosity!⁠—But she must have mercy upon me first!⁠—then will she teach me a reliance for the sake of which her prayer for me will be answered.

But hasten, hasten to me particulars of her health, of her employments, of her conversation.

I am sick only of love! Oh! that I could have called her mine!⁠—it would then have been worth while to be sick!⁠—to have sent for her down to me from town; and to have had her, with healing in her dove-like wings, flying to my comfort; her duty and her choice to pray for me, and to bid me live for her sake!⁠—O Jack! what an angel have I⁠—

But I have not lost her!⁠—I will not lose her! I am almost well; should be quite well but for these prescribing rascals, who, to do credit to their skill, will make the disease of importance.⁠—And I will make her mine!⁠—and be sick again, to entitle myself to her dutiful tenderness, and pious as well as personal concern!

God forever bless her!⁠—Hasten, hasten particulars of her!⁠—I am sick of love!⁠—such generous goodness!⁠—By all that’s great and good, I will not lose her!⁠—so tell her!⁠—She says, that she could not pity me, if she thought of being mine! This, according to Miss Howe’s transcriptions to Charlotte.⁠—But bid her hate me, and have me: and my behaviour to her shall soon turn that hate to love! for, body and mind, I will be wholly hers.