Letter 627 To Mr Murray
Gloucester May 18th 1788
I now hold the pen, with very different sensations from those which have heretofore agitated my bosom &emdash; My dear, my protecting friend is returning, there is no longer a necessity for his banishment, and I shall be &emdash; I shall be &emdash; in short I shall be very happy &emdash; a thousand times a day, do I whisper the tidings to my soul, My heart, my fond heart, throbs with esteem, and gratitude, hourly augmenting, and the pleasing perturbation of the little flutterer seems to render it too big for its enclosure &emdash; Not but that fear, often peeps in, from whence is ready, with its cautions, and by Possibility, by way of moderating my expectation, hath a thousand things to urge &emdash; I know, Great heaven, too well I know when last you wrote, the wide waters rolled between us &emdash; I know the spring is the season, when your complaints assault you, with the most unyielding obstinacy, and I experimentally know, that upon this changeful globe, every thing is precarious [&emdash;] Well, what then &emdash; still I will say, unto every gloomy apprehension, be ye far from me &emdash; I will unwaveringly believe, that I shall yet again meet my friend, and that I shall pass with him, e'er yet I depart to the World of spirits some tranquil days &emdash; I am under, to my dearest Murray, eternal obligations, and may the full reward of his extensive benevolence, be his portion &emdash; I cannot write, a kind of pleasing tumult takes possession of my soul, destroying that composure, which is necessary for the purpose of arranging my thoughts, with that method, which I am fond of observing &emdash; yet I ought to write, and this letter is intended to meet you in Boston &emdash; Welcome, then, my dearest friend &emdash; Thou art right welcome to the soul of thy Constantia…. Do not, however, believe there is, in my mind, the shadow of hesitancy &emdash; No, my determination is unalterably fixed, and although there are many avenues, by which my soul is exposed to sufferings, yet, there is but one, by which the deluging floods of overwhelming misfortune can enter…. Of one thing I am certain &emdash; I can never while fate continues to me your friendship, be totally unhappy &emdash;