Tuesday Evening 15th January 1788]
That you have faults, my Clarinda, I never doubted; but I knew not
where they existed, and Saturday night made me more in the dark
than ever. 0, Clarinda, why will you wound my soul by hinting that
last night must have lessened my opinion of you! True; I was
“behind the scenes with you “ but what did I see? A bosom glowing
with honour and benevolence; a mind ennobled by genius, informed
and refined by education and reflection, and exalted by native
religion, genuine as in the climes of heaven; a heart formed for all
the glorious meltings of friendship, love and pity. These I saw—
I saw the noblest immortal soul, creation ever shewed me.
1 looked long, my dear Clarinda, for your letter; and am vexed that
you are complaining. I have not caught you so far wrong as in your
idea, that the commerce you have with one friend hurts you,
if you cannot tell every tittle of it to another. Why have so injurious a
suspicion of a good God, Clarinda, as to think that Friendship and
Love, on the sacred, inviolate principles of Truth, Honour and
Religion, can be any thing else than an object of His divine
approbation?
I have mentioned, in some of my former scrawls, Saturday evening
next. Do, allow me to wait on you that evening. Oh, my angel! how
soon must we part! and when can we meet again! I look forward on
the horrid interval with tearful eyes! What have I lost by not
knowing you sooner. I fear, I fear my acquaintance with you is too
short, to make that lasting impression on your heart I could wish.
Sylvander
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