my
life's-blood. I had conversed too long with abstracted truth to trust
myself with the immortal thoughts of love. THAT S. L. MIGHT HAVE BEEN
MINE, AND NOW NEVER CAN--these are the two sole propositions that for
ever stare me in the face, and look ghastly in at my poor brain. I am
in some sense proud that I can feel this dreadful passion--it gives me a
kind of rank in the kingdom of love--but I could have wished it had been
for an object that at least could have understood its value and pitied
its excess. You say her not coming to the door when you went is a
proof--yes, that her complement is at present full! That is the reason
she doesn't want me there, lest I should discover the new affair--wretch
that I am! Another has possession of her, oh Hell! I'm satisfied of it
from her manner, which had a wanton insolence in it. Well might I run
wild when I received no letters from her. I foresaw, I felt my fate.
The gates of Paradise were once open to me too, and I blushed to enter
but with the golden keys of love! I would die; but her lover--my love
of her--ought not to die. When I am dead, who will love her as I have
done? If she should be in misfortune, who will comfort her? when she
is old, who will look in her face, and bless her? Would there be any
harm in calling upon M----, to know confidentially if he thinks it worth
my while to make her an offer the instant it is in my power? Let me
have an answer, and save me, if possible, FOR her and FROM myself.

LETTER VIII

My dear Friend, Your letter raised me for a moment from the depths of
despair; but not hearing from you yesterday or to-day (as I hoped) I
have had a relapse. You say I want to get rid of her. I hope you are
more right in your conjectures about her than in this about me. Oh no!
believe it, I love her as I do my own soul; my very heart is wedded to
her (be she what she may) and I would not hesitate a moment between her
and "an angel from Heaven." I grant all you say about my
self-tormenting folly: but has it been without cause? Has she not
refused me again and again with a mixture of scorn and resentment, after
going the utmost lengths with a man for whom she now disclaims all
affection; and what security can I have for her reserve with others, who
will not be restrained by feelings of delicacy towards her, and whom she
has probably preferred to me for their want of it. "SHE CAN MAKE NO
MORE CONFIDENCES"--these words ring for ev