into　the　street　the　next　moment；　though　she　were　twenty　times　your　wifeand　that；　as　to　the　consequences　of　doing　so；　you　would　laugh　at　them；　even　if　you　couldn't　escape　from　them。I　shall　lose　the　post　if　I　say　more。
  Believe　me；
  Ever　truly　your　friend；
  C。　P。
  LETTER　XIII
  My　dear　P；　You　have　saved　my　life。　　If　I　do　not　keep　friends　with　her　now；　I　deserve　to　be　hanged；　drawn；　and　quartered。　　She　is　an　angel　from　Heaven；　and　you　cannot　pretend　I　ever　said　a　word　to　the　contrary！　　The　little　rogue　must　have　liked　me　from　the　first；　or　she　never　could　have　stood　all　these　hurricanes　without　slipping　her　cable。　　What　could　she　find　in　me？　　〃I　have　mistook　my　person　all　this　while；〃　&c。　　Do　you　know　I　saw　a　picture；　the　very　pattern　of　her；　the　other　day；　at　Dalkeith　Palace　（Hope　finding　Fortune　in　the　Sea）；　just　before　this　blessed　news　came；　and　the　resemblance　drove　me　almost　out　of　my　senses。　　Such　delicacy；　such　fulness；　such　perfect　softness；　such　buoyancy；　such　grace！　　If　it　is　not　the　very　image　of　her；　I　am　no　judge。You　have　the　face　to　doubt　my　making　the　best　husband　in　the　world；　you　might　as　well　doubt　it　if　I　was　married　to　one　of　the　Houris　of　Paradise。　　She　is　a　saint；　an　angel；　a　love。　　If　she　deceives　me　again；　she　kills　me。　　But　I　will　have　such　a　kiss　when　I　get　back；　as　shall　last　me　twenty　years。　　May　God　bless　her　for　not　utterly　disowning　and　destroying　me！　　What　an　exquisite　little　creature　it　is；　and　how　she　holds　out　to　the　last　in　her　system　of　consistent　contradictions！　　Since　I　wrote　to　you　about　making　a　formal　proposal；　I　have　had　her　face　constantly　before　me；　looking　so　like　some　faultless　marble　statue；　as　cold；　as　fixed　and　graceful　as　ever　statue　did；　the　expression　（nothing　was　ever　like　THAT！）　seemed　to　say〃I　wish　I　could　love　you　better　than　I　do；　but　still　I　will　be　yours。〃　　No；　I'll　never　believe　again　that　she　will　not　be　mine；　for　I　think　she　was　made　on　purpose　for　me。　　If　there's　anyone　else　that　understands　that　turn　of　her　head　as　I　do；　I'll　give　her　up　without　scruple。　　I　have　made　up　my　mind　to　this；　never　to　dream　of　another　woman；　while　she　even　thinks　it　worth　her　while　to　REFUSE　TO　HAVE　ME。　　You　see　I　am　not　hard　to　please；　after　all。　　Did　M　know　of　the　intimacy　that　had　subsisted　between　us？　　Or　did　you　hint　at　it？　　I　think　it　would　be　a　CLENCHER；　if　he　did。　　How　ought　I　to　behave　when　I　go　back？　　Advise　a　fool；　who　had　nearly　lost　a　Goddess　by　his　folly。　　The　thing　was；　I　could　not　think　it　possible　she　would　ever　like　ME。　　Her　taste　is　singular；　but　not　the　worse　for　that。　　I'd　rather　have　her　love；　or　liking　（call　it　what　you　will）　than　empires。　　I　deserve　to　call　her　mine；　for　nothing　else　CAN　atone　for　what　I've　gone　through　for　her。　　I　hope　your　next　letter　will　not　reverse　all；　and　then　I　shall　be　happy　till　I　see　her；one　of　the　blest　when　I　do　see　her；　if　she　looks　like　my　own　beautiful　love。　　I　may　perhaps　write　a　line　when　I　come　to　my　right　wits。Farewel　at　present；　and　thank　you　a　thousand　times　for　what　you　have　done　for　your　poor　friend。
  P。　S。I　like　what　M　said　about　her　sister；　much。　　There　are　good　people　in　the　world：　I　begin　to　see　it；　and　believe　it。
  LETTER　THE　LAST
  Dear　P；　To…morrow　is　the　decisive　day　that　makes　me　or　mars　me。　　I　will　let　you　know　the　result　by　a　line　added　to　this。　　Yet　what　signifies　it；　since　either　way　I　have　little　hope　there；　〃whence　alone　my　hope　cometh！〃　　You　must　know　I　am　strangely　in　the　dumps　at　this　present　writing。　　My　reception　with　her　is　doubtful；　and　my　fate　is　then　certain。　　The　hearing　of　your　happiness　has；　I　own；　made　me　thoughtful。　　It　is　just　what　I　proposed　to　her　to　doto　have　crossed　the　Alps　with　me；　to　sail　on　sunny　seas；　to　bask　in　Italian　skies；　to　have　visited　Vevai　and　the　rocks　of　Meillerie；　and　to　have　repeated　to　her　on　the　spot　the　story　of　Julia　and　St。　Preux；　and　to　have　shewn　her　all　that　my　heart　had　stored　up　for　herbut　on　my　forehead　alone　is　writtenREJECTED！　　Yet　I　too　could　have　adored　as　fervently；　and　loved　as　tenderly　as　others；　had　I　been　permitted。　　You　are　going　abroad；　you　say；　happy　in　making　happy。　　Where　shall　I　be？　　In　the　grave；　I　hope；　or　else　in　her　arms。　　To　me；　alas！　there　is　no　sweetness　out　of　her　sight；　and　that　sweetness　has　turned　to　bitterness；　I　fear；　that　gentleness　to　sullen　scorn！　　Still　I　hope　for　the　best。　　If　she　will　but　HAVE　me；　I'll　make　her　LOVE　me：　and　I　think　her　not　giving　a　positive　answer　looks　like　it；　and　also　shews　that　there　is　no　one　else。　　Her　holding　out　to　the　last　also；　I　think；　proves　that　she　was　never　to　have　been　gained　but　with　honour。　　She's　a　strange；　almost　an　inscrutable　girl：　but　if　I　once　win　her　consent；　I　shall　kill　her　with　kindness。Will　you　let　me　have　a　sight　of　SOMEBODY　before　you　go？　　I　should　be　most　proud。　　I　was　in　hopes　to　have　got　away　by　the　Steam…boat　to…morrow；　but　owing　to　the　business　not　coming　on　till　then；　I　cannot；　and　may　not　be　in　town　for　another　week；　unless　I　come　by　the　Mail；　which　I　am　strongly　tempted　to　do。　　In　the　latter　case　I　shall　be　there；　and　visible　on　Saturday　evening。　　Will　you　look　in　and　see；　about　eight　o'clock？　　I　wish　much　to　see　you　and　her　and　J。　H。　and　my　little　boy　once　more；　and　then；　if　she　is　not　what　she　once　was　to　me；　I　care　not　if　I　die　that　instant。　　I　will　conclude　here　till　to…morrow；　as　I　am　getting　into　my　old　melancholy。
  It　is　all　over；　and　I　am　my　own　man；　and　yours　ever
  PART　III
  ADDRESSED　TO　J。　S。　K。
  My　dear　K；　It　is　all　over；　and　I　know　my　fate。　　I　told　you　I　would　send　you　word；　if　anything　decisive　happened；　but　an　impenetrable　mystery　hung　over　the　affair　till　lately。　　It　is　at　last　（by　the　merest　accident　in　the　world）　dissipated；　and　I　keep　my　promise；　both　for　your　satisfaction；　and　for　the　ease　of　my　own　mind。
  You　remember　the　morning　when　I　said　〃I　will　go　and　repose　my　sorrows　at　the　foot　of　Ben　Lomond〃and　when　from　Dumbarton　Bridge　its　giant…shadow；　clad　in　air　and　sunshine；　appeared　in　view。　　We　had　a　pleasant　day's　walk。　　We　passed　Smollett's　monument　on　the　road　（somehow　these　poets　touch　one　in　reflection　more　than　most　military　heroes）talked　of　old　times；　you　repeated　Logan's　beautiful　verses　to　the　cuckoo；*　which　I　wanted　to　compare　with　Wordsworth's；　but　my　courage　failed　me；　you　then　told　me　some　passages　of　an　early　attachment　which　was　suddenly　broken　off；　we　considered　together　which　was　the　most　to　be　pitied；　a　disappointment　in　love　where　the　attachment　was　mutual　or　one　where　there　has　been　no　return；　and　we　both　agreed；　I　think；　that　the　former　was　best　to　be　endured；　and　that　to　have　the　consciousness　of　it　a　companion　for　life　was　the　least　evil　of　the　two；　as　there　was　a　secret　sweetness　that　took　off　the　bitterness　and　the　sting　of　regret；　and　〃the　memory　of　what　once　had　been〃　atoned；　in　some　measure；　and　at　intervals；　for　what　〃never　more　could　be。〃　　In　the　other　case；　there　was　nothing　to　look　back　to　with　tender　satisfaction；　no　redeeming　trait；　not　even　a　possibility　of　turning　it　to　good。　　It　left　behind　it　not　cherished　sighs；　but　stifled　pangs。　　The　galling　sense　of　it　did　not　bring　moisture　into　the　eyes；　but　dried　up　the　heart　ever　after。　　One　had　been　my　fate；　the　other　had　been　yours！
  ＇*〃Sweet　bird；　thy　bower　is　ever　green；　Thy　sky　is　ever　clear；　Thou　hast　no　sorrow　in　thy　song；　No　winter　in　thy　year。〃
  So　they　begin。　　It　was　the　month　of　May；　the　cuckoo　sang　shrouded　in　some　woody　copse；　the　showers　fell　between　whiles；　my　friend　repeated　the　lines　with　native　enthusiasm　in　a　clear　manly　voice；　still　resonant　of　youth　and　hope。　　Mr。　Wordsworth　will　excuse　me；　if　in　these　circumstances　I　declined　entering　the　field　with　his　profounder　metaphysical　strain；　and　kept　my　preference　to　myself。＇
  You　startled　me　every　now　and　then　from　my　reverie　by　the　robust　voice；　in　which　you　asked　the　country　people　（by　no　means　prodigal　of　their　answers）〃If　there　was　any　trout　fishing　in　those　streams？〃and　our　dinner　at　Luss　set　us　up　for　the　rest　of　our　day's　march。　　The　sky　now　became　overcast；　but　this；　I　think；　added　to　the　effect　of　the　scene。　　The　road　to　Tarbet　is　superb。　　It　is　on　the　very　verge　of　the　lakehard；　level；　rocky；　with　low　stone　bridges　constantly　flung　across　it；　and　fringed　with　birch　trees；　just　then　budding　into　spring；　behind　which；　as　through　a　slight　veil；　you　saw　the　huge　shadowy　form　of　Ben　Lomond。　　It　lifts　its　enormous　but　graceful　bulk　direct　from　the　edge　of　the　water　without　any　projecting　lowlands；　and　has　in　this　respect　much　the　advantage　of　Skiddaw。　　Loch　Lomond　comes　upon　you　by　degrees　as　you　advance；　unfolding　and　then　withdrawing　its　conscious　beauties　like　an　accomplished　coquet。　　You　are　struck　with　the　point　of　a　rock；　the　arch　of　a　bridge；　the　Highland　huts　（like　the　first　rude　habitations　of　men）　dug　out　of　the　soil；　built　of　turf；　and　covered　with　brown　heather；　a　sheep…cote；　some　straggling　cattle　feeding　half…way　down　a　precipice；　but　as　you　advance　farther　on；　the　view　expands　into　the　perfection　of　lake　scenery。　　It　is　nothing　（or　your　eye　is　caught　by　nothing）　but　water；　earth；　and　sky。　　Ben　Lomond　waves　to　the　right；　in　its　simple　majesty；　cloud…capt　or　bare；　and　descending　to　a　point　at　the　head　of　the　lake；　shews　the　Trossa