Part 14 (2/2)
LETTER LXV
_[Copenhagen] September 6 [1795]._
I received just now your letter of the 20th. I had written you a letter last night, into which imperceptibly slipt some of my bitterness of soul.
I will copy the part relative to business. I am not sufficiently vain to imagine that I can, for more than a moment, cloud your enjoyment of life--to prevent even that, you had better never hear from me--and repose on the idea that I am happy.
Gracious G.o.d! It is impossible for me to stifle something like resentment, when I receive fresh proofs of your indifference. What I have suffered this last year, is not to be forgotten! I have not that happy subst.i.tute for wisdom, insensibility--and the lively sympathies which bind me to my fellow-creatures, are all of a painful kind.--They are the agonies of a broken heart--pleasure and I have shaken hands.
I see here nothing but heaps of ruins, and only converse with people immersed in trade and sensuality.
I am weary of travelling--yet seem to have no home--no resting-place to look to.--I am strangely cast off.--How often, pa.s.sing through the rocks, I have thought, ”But for this child, I would lay my head on one of them, and never open my eyes again!” With a heart feelingly alive to all the affections of my nature--I have never met with one, softer than the stone that I would fain take for my last pillow. I once thought I had, but it was all a delusion. I meet with families continually, who are bound together by affection or principle--and, when I am conscious that I have fulfilled the duties of my station, almost to a forgetfulness of myself, I am ready to demand, in a murmuring tone, of Heaven, ”Why am I thus abandoned?”
You say now
I do not understand you. It is necessary for you to write more explicitly--and determine on some mode of conduct.--I cannot endure this suspense--Decide--Do you fear to strike another blow? We live together, or eternally part!--I shall not write to you again, till I receive an answer to this. I must compose my tortured soul, before I write on indifferent subjects.
I do not know whether I write intelligibly, for my head is disturbed. But this you ought to pardon--for it is with difficulty frequently that I make out what you mean to say--You write, I suppose, at Mr. ----'s after dinner, when your head is not the clearest--and as for your heart, if you have one, I see nothing like the dictates of affection, unless a glimpse when you mention the child--Adieu!
LETTER LXVI
_[Hamburg] September 25 [1795]._
I have just finished a letter, to be given in charge to captain ----. In that I complained of your silence, and expressed my surprise that three mails should have arrived without bringing a line for me. Since I closed it, I hear of another, and still no letter.--I am labouring to write calmly--this silence is a refinement on cruelty. Had captain ---- remained a few days longer, I would have returned with him to England. What have I to do here? I have repeatedly written to you fully. Do you do the same--and quickly. Do not leave me in suspense. I have not deserved this of you. I cannot write, my mind is so distressed. Adieu!
MARY.
LETTER LXVII
_[Hamburg] September 27 [1795]._
When you receive this, I shall either have landed, or be hovering on the British coast--your letter of the 18th decided me.
By what criterion of principle or affection, you term my questions extraordinary and unnecessary, I cannot determine.--You desire me to decide--I had decided. You must have had long ago two letters of mine, from ----, to the same purport, to consider.--In these, G.o.d knows! there was but too much affection, and the agonies of a distracted mind were but too faithfully pourtrayed!--What more then had I to say?--The negative was to come from you.--You had perpetually recurred to your promise of meeting me in the autumn--Was it extraordinary that I should demand a yes, or no?--Your letter is written with extreme harshness, coldness I am accustomed to, in it I find not a trace of the tenderness of humanity, much less of friends.h.i.+p.--I only see a desire to heave a load off your shoulders.
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