 fate has once more recalled to my mind that of Matilda—I have meditated much on a sister so dear—alas, too certainly Essex is in the right, and there exists not a being I can call by that name.—Long years have succeeded each other, and still that incomprehensible mystery, that dreadful silence continues; there is no circumstance but death that could occasion it.—Farewell then, oh name ever so pleasant to my lips, sink deep into my heart, and remain eternally engraved there—farewell, thou pure spirit! too etherial for a world so gross, I will no more look for thee on its surface, I will no more imagine thee beneath it— no, I will now raise my stedfast eye to that heaven "where the wicked cease from troubling," and in some yet undiscovered star fancy I behold thee! Ah deign, if so, to guide the uncertain steps of a wanderer, and if my cruel fate conduct them still toward precipices, irradiate the scene, and deliver me from the danger!—My spirits are high wrought, and a solemnity too exquisite for description possesses

every faculty—I must steep them all in a lethargy ere I recover my equanimity.—
Happiness! undefinable good, in what shall I comprize you? no, I will not suppose it can be done in gold, and yet how pure was the transport a little of that vile metal called into the care-furrowed countenances of Alithea's venerable parents! To the earth which gave, I have restored the remainder; it is buried eastward under the spreading chesnut planted by Edward IV.—that popular tree, protected alike from the caprice of its owner, and the spade of the laborer, will hide it safely: but, oh! if ever one noble heart sighs under its shade, oppressed with the sting of penury, may some good angel whisper, "you rest on that which can fully relieve you."
All is now prepared for my flight; I have refused the attendance of Alithea; it will be well supplied in the remembrance

that she is happy—indulgent heaven has given to her, parents who grow old in peace and virtue, a lover who knows not falsehood or ambition, and a soul justly grateful for blessings beyond all valuation—the faithful creature delays the happiness of him she loves till he shall have conveyed this broken narrative into the hands of Lady Pembroke; nor do I fear to trust him with it.—Dear, noble friend, once more my soul fondly salutes you; bestow on my flight those pious prayers with which virtue consecrates our purposes, and believe mine rise ever for you. If we meet again
