LETTER V

FROM ARTHUR MURDEN

TO

CAROLINE ASHBURN

MADAM

That I most ardently desire to possess your esteem is, whether you believe it or not, a fact I avow with all possible sincerity. Nor is it less a fact, that I quitted Bath so abruptly to avoid giving you my confidence: the only thing in the world by which I could be entitled to ask your esteem.

'Why do I then write to you?'--you are about to demand--Ah! madam: I have by me a long catalogue of such unanswered questions--Why do I do this?--and why do I do that? insolently treads on the heel of my almost every action.

Can you find a name more despicable than folly for the will that acts in opposition to acknowledged reason? If you can--apply that worst of names to me--to my incomprehensible conduct.

Oh, Miss Ashburn, almost without a motive have I pursued a dream, a phantasy! The offspring of my heated imagination.--Fancy lent her utmost delusions, and dressed the vision in such glowing charms that neither prudence, honour, friendship, nor aught else could stay me in my course--not even the heavenly--

Whither am I running!--I would give a world that I could tell you--When! where! why! I dreamt and was awakened--not for a world's wealth though would I tell you.

'Tis past! 'tis done! the mischief is irretrievable.--The phantom remains; but the gilded hope that illumined her path is gone--despair casts its length of shade around me; and sunshine is no more.

Let me recollect myself.--When I began to write, I meant to request you would say something conciliating for me to Sir Thomas. The letter I left for him was written in haste and from a sudden impulse, and probably expressed nothing I either meant or ought to have said--I beseech you, madam, do this for me. I know my uncle looks on me with affection; and I do not consider myself entitled to make so free with the happiness of others as I have done with my own.

If he has any expostulations to offer, any reproaches to make me, let him send them to Barlowe Hall. There I shall be some time. But let him not ask me to come to London.----No: Miss Ashburn, the _ignis fatuus_ is still in view; and, though I perfectly understand its nature and have no hope nor scarce a wish to overtake it, yet am I, lunatic-like, galloping after it over hedge, bog, and briar.

From this assurance, and from the many other things you know of me, you will believe I am in the right to subscribe myself the infatuated, miserable,

A. MURDEN