Lovelace, I shall tire thee, and that more with the subject
of my letter, than even with the length of it. But really, I think thy
spirits are so offensively up since thy recovery, that I ought, as the
melancholy subjects offer, to endeavour to reduce thee to the standard
of humanity, by expatiating upon them. And then thou canst not but be
curious to know every thing that concerns the poor man, for whom thou
hast always expressed a great regard. I will therefore proceed as I have
begun. If thou likest not to read it now, lay it by, if thou wilt, till
the like circumstances befall thee, till like reflections from those
circumstances seize thee; and then take it up, and compare the two cases
together.

***

At his earnest request, I sat up with him last night; and, poor man! it
is impossible to tell thee, how easy and safe he thought himself in my
company, for the first part of the night: A drowning man will catch at a
straw, the proverb well says: and a straw was I, with respect to any real
help I could give him. He often awaked in terrors; and once calling out
for me, Dear Belford, said he, Where are you!--Oh! There you are!--Give
me your friendly hand!--Then grasping it, and putting his clammy,
half-cold lips to it--How kind! I fear every thing when you are absent.
But the presence of a friend, a sympathising friend--Oh! how comfortable!

But, about four in the morning, he frighted me much: he waked with three
terrible groans; and endeavoured to speak, but could not presently--and
when he did,--Jack, Jack, Jack, five or six times repeated he as quick as
thought, now, now, now, save me, save me, save me--I am going--going
indeed!

I threw my arms about him, and raised him upon his pillow, as he was
sinking (as if to hide himself) in the bed-clothes--And staring wildly,
Where am I? said he, a little recovering. Did you not see him? turning
his head this way and that; horror in his countenance; Did you not see
him?

See whom, see what, my dear Belton!

O lay me upon the bed again, cried he!--Let me not die upon the floor!--
Lay me down gently; and stand by me!--Leave me not!--All, all will soon
be over!

You are already, my dear Belton, upon the bed. You have not been upon
the floor. This is a strong delirium; you are faint for want of
refreshment [for he had refused several times to take any thing]: let me
persuade you to take some of this cordial julap. I will leave you, if
you will not oblige m