Expedition of Humphry Clinker — from WILSON To Miss LYDIA MELFORD
Your assured friend, M. BRAMBLE CLIFTON, April 17. To Miss LYDIA MELFORD.
Miss Willis has pronounced my doom--you are going away, dear Miss Melford!
--you are going to be removed, I know not whither!
what shall I do?
which way shall I turn for consolation?
I know not what I say--all night long have I been tossed in a sea of doubts and fears, uncertainty and distraction, without being able to connect my thoughts, much less to form any consistent plan of conduct--I was even tempted to wish that I had never seen you; or that you had been less amiable, or less compassionate to your poor Wilson; and yet it would be detestable ingratitude in me to form such a wish, considering how much I am indebted to your goodness, and the ineffable pleasure I have derived from your indulgence and approbation--Good God!
I never heard your name mentioned without emotion!
the most distant prospect of being admitted to your company, filled my whole soul with a kind of pleasing alarm!
as the time approached, my heart beat with redoubled force, and every nerve thrilled with a transport of expectation; but, when I found myself actually in your presence;--when I heard you speak;--when I saw you smile; when I beheld your charming eyes turned favourably upon me; my breast was filled with such tumults of delight, as wholly deprived me of the power of utterance, and wrapt me in a delirium of joy!
--encouraged by your sweetness of temper and affability, I ventured to describe the feelings of my heart--even then you did not check my presumption--you pitied my sufferings and gave me leave to hope you put a favourable--perhaps too favourable a construction, on my appearance--certain it is, I am no player in love--I speak the language of my own heart; and have no prompter but nature.
Yet there is something in this heart, which I have not yet disclosed.
--I flattered myself--But, I will not--I must not proceed.
Dear Miss Liddy!
for Heaven’s sake, contrive, if possible, some means of letting me speak to you before you leave Gloucester; otherwise, I know not what will--But I begin to rave again.
--I will endeavour to bear this trial with fortitude--while I am capable of reflecting upon your tenderness and truth, I surely have no cause to despair--a cloud hangs over me, and there is a dreadful weight upon my spirits!
While you stay in this place, I shall continually hover about your lodgings, as the parted soul is said to linger about the grave where its mortal comfort lies.
--I know, if it is in your power, you will task your humanity--your compassion--shall I add, your affection?
--in order to assuage the almost intolerable disquiet that torments the heart of your afflicted, WILSON GLOUCESTER, March 31. To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, of Jesus college, Oxon.
HOT WELL, April 18.