University of Virginia Library

JOHN TO SARAH.

Why do I not hear from you, dear Sarah? How do you
employ yourself? Have you heard of Juliet's marriage?
What do you think of it? Molton is on the track of something.
I know not what; but his look is that of a bloodhound.
Frank told me to write to you; but I know not
what to write; my heart is sore and full, and all my
veins feel distended. I have had certain severe trials, of
late; and have just begun my professional career. Has
Frank written you that the affairs of your father look
more promising of late? He says so; and he is rather
cautious in such matters. He is gone to Jamaica. Let
me hear from you, immediately. Do you want any money?
Say so, without any scruple, if you do. It shall
be remitted, at once. Have you heard from Juliet, since
her marriage? If you have, and she has told you all about
it, I entreat you to let me know the particulars, without
a moment's delay.

You are, probably, astonished at the composure, with
which I speak of Molton, after all that has passed; and
Frank, I know, is. He reproached me, bitterly, in a
short note; and almost called me an accomplice in William's
murder. But why should I be wrathful with him?
We want mercy, and shall we not show it? Beside, on
what ground am I to complain? His own confession, it
may be said. But, by his own confession, he is not guilty

of murder. What did he? O, heaven, Sarah—it is
hard to believe it; but such is man!—he did no more than
I, or any other man would have done, in the same situation.
So, I have forgiven him. Nay, more—I love him
more than ever. I feel a companionship with his infirmities.
I pity him. He is lowered, to be sure, in my
veneration; but he has come infinitely nearer to my heart.
There is humanity in him, now; for he is weak and passionate.
Before, he was something preternatural—calm
—immoveable—indestructible.