as I am the most passionate of lovers."

It filled the whole company with a deep melancholy to compare the
description of the letter with the person that occasioned it, who was
now reduced to a few crumbling bones and a little mouldering heap of
earth. With much ado I deciphered another letter, which began with, "My
dear, dear wife." This gave me a curiosity to see how the style of
one written in marriage differed from one written in courtship. To my
surprise, I found the fondness rather augmented than lessened, though
the panegyric turned upon a different accomplishment. The words were as
follows:

"Before this short absence from you, I did not know that I loved you so
much as I really do; though, at the same time, I thought I loved you as
much as possible. I am under great apprehensions lest you should have
any uneasiness whilst I am defrauded of my share in it, and cannot think
of tasting any pleasures that you do not partake with me. Pray, my dear,
be careful of your health, if for no other reason but because you know
I could not outlive you. It is natural in absence to make professions
of an inviolable constancy; but towards so much merit it is scarce a
virtue, especially when it is but a bare return to that of which you
have given me such continued proofs ever since our first acquaintance. I
am," etc.

It happened that the daughter of these two excellent persons was by when
I was reading this letter. At the sight of the coffin, in which was the
body of her mother near that of her father, she melted into a flood of
tears. As I had heard a great character of her virtue, and observed
in her this instance of filial piety, I could not resist my natural
inclination of giving advice to young people, and therefore addressed
myself to her. "Young lady," said I, "you see how short is the
possession of that beauty in which nature has been so liberal to you.
You find the melancholy sight before you is a contradiction to the first
letter that you heard on that subject; whereas you may observe, the
second letter, which celebrates your mother's constancy, is itself,
being found in this place, an argument of it. But, madam, I ought to
caution you not to think the bodies that lie before you your father and
your mother. Know, their constancy is rewarded by a nobler union than
by this mingling of their ashes, in a state where there is no danger or
possibility of a second separation."

XXVI.--MR. BICKERSTAFF'S NEPHEWS.