did ye not grant me a portion of what is so lavishly bestowed on many
who know not its value? Ye have made pecuniary distreƒs the price at which
this happineƒs must be purchased. Then accomplish your purpose; for I never
will purchase a portion of happineƒs for my self, when the distreƒs of my
best beloved friend is ^ ^{to be} the price. No Annette; every present appearance
dooms us to be two distinct people; unleƒs I was to marry thee and leave
thee in thy fathers house; and would not such a step bring five years of
redoubled misery on us?
      My father has written to me, but gives no answer to that part of
my letter which thou hadst a copy of. His silence seems to bespeak
his acceptance.
Let us then, my dear Annette, return to the "sweet, calm delights
"of friendship". Let us endeavour to return to that serenity of mind
which thou poƒseƒsedst but lately. I must call ambition to my aƒsistance
since it must be so; and in a life of activity and danger, wean out of
my mind but that we are friends. The search after knowledge — the
contemplation of nature in the barren wild, the overhanging crags
of utmost height, and the open field decked with the spicy attire
of the tropical climes, may — nay must prevent me from casting one
thought on England, — on my home. For well I know, by the experience
of many an unhappy hour, that if they turn hitherward, they will
too intensely fix on thee; and, like [illegible] admitted to a smothered
flame, will rouse up all my feelings to bitterneƒs. Languor succeeds,
and renders the mind incapable of that energy, which the situation
I am to fill, will make a constant demand for.
      The ebullitions of paƒsion which come upon an ardent mind,
when in solitude, have made me often vow, that never would I
return to New South Wales without a partner of my love. How
are human projects blasted! But I will not any more indulge
solitude. The human mind when unoccupied by busineƒs, does
always indulge in scenes of fancied happineƒs. Mine shall always