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mirers. I have forgot the Measure, but this is directly my Sentiment.
I lately wrote you a long Letter, as you were so kind to desire; and in so very lazy unintellectual a Manner, that I am sure half the Mortals, who only understand with their Eyes and by the Grammar, could never have comprehended: but I would converse with you Soul to Soul, have a Hint understood by you, and not be obliged to a tedious Period to communicate a Thought to you ; I would have my Soul stand naked before you, , and shiver at the least Breath of Kindness
your most distant Meaning shall breathe on it
Oh, happy State, when Souls each other draw, &c.
This I am sure your quick Apprehension is capable of; and by a Desire of the stricteft Union with you, I am fond to believe as well of myself.
You see I am proposing every Scheme which may unite you more closely to me, therefore I beg you will not refuse me the Request I made at the Beginning of my
Letter. I will say no more now, but when I am with you, design to talk away as you shall inspire. In the mean Time, I boast, that it is the most sagacious Instinct which pushes me on to subscribe myself
your most affectionate Friend
and humble Servant,
LET T E R XI.
Mr. WHISTLER to W. SHENSTONE, Esq.
Actions, and as Pleasure is the sole Object of that Hope, you must not wonder if the Stile of this Letter appears more languid than usual. How quickly is the Transition often made from Hope to Despair ! But a little
While, and I thought I already saw you; and now I am presently fallen into the Desperation of I know not when. The Small-Pox, which generally frightens away every Thing that's agreeable, has made it impossible for me to see you as yet—The last Sentence seems a Compliment to myself; but as I am too lazy to alter it, I beg you would think with me, and interpreț every Thing I say in your own Favour. But thus the Devil will have it ; the Small-Pox is all over Oxford, in every Part of the Town, in most of the Colleges to my Knowledge, and is lately broke out in Pembroke. If it had not been for this last Article, I could gladly have confined myself within the Compass of those Walls with you ; but as it is, I am forced, like good Men, to submit for a while to human Miseries, and comfort myself with the Thought of my
Heayen, though at a Distance; like them too, I have this Satisfaction, that in the mean Time neither the base Moth, or Ruft of the World, can corrupt that Part of you in which my Pleasure is situated,
I have a very bad Piece of News to tell you ; Mr. G- lies dangerously ill at London of a Fever: I am informed his Life is despaired of_I am now in the utmost Concern at it. This Letter is a mere Medley : disagreeable to myself, I don't propose it to be agreeable to you.
I only wrote it, to tell you what you must know, and if you can understand it, it is very well. I am not only in the lowest Spirits, but they are also very much confused. I will not now moralize; but this I am sure, we shall both dearly miss Mr. G- When I hear more, you shall know more.
It is now one o'Clock in the Morning, and, as I told you, I wrote this out of Necessity. I cannot be in Oxford, though I long to see you. If poor Mr. G— should die, pray be still more kind to me. I am sure, I shall then find a Vacancy in my Breast, which you alone can fill up to my Satisfaction.
Adieu, dear Mr. Shenstone!
I received a Letter from you just after I sent you my last, and my Thoughs are at present too confused to answer
your cularly, nor, indeed, will my Time allow it, Only I heartily thank you for it.
Whitchurch, near Reading, Berks.
Mr WHISTLER to W. SHENSTONE, Esq.
upbraided me with Negligence, Ingratitude and Stupidity. To the last Part of the Accusation, I plead guilty; for I think I never found myself more stupid than I have been for this Month past, and what I write now, proceeds, not from any Flow of Fancy, but pierely from Respect and Esteem. I have