I am, since I have not been well!

In another part of my reverie he loved me dearly; but when he nearly approached me, or I him, he always became a ghost, and Hitted from me. Scenes once changed from England to Italy, from Italy to England: Italy, I tiiought, was a dreary wild, covered with snow, and pinched with frost: England, on the contrary, was a country glorious to the eye; gilded with a sun not too fervid; the air perfumed with odours, wafted by the most balmy zephyrs from orange-trees, citrons, myrtles, and jasmines. In Italy, at one time, Jeronymo’s wounds were healed; at another, they were breaking out afresh. Mr, Lowther was obliged to fly the country: why, did not appear. There was a fourth brother, I thought; and he, taking part with the cruel Laurana, was killed by the general. Father Marescotti was at one time a martyr for his religion; at another, a cardinal; and talked of for pope.

But still, what was more shocking, and which so terrified me that I awoke in a horror which put an end to all my reveries (for I slept no more that night) Sir Charles, I thought, was assassinated by Greville. Greville fled his country for it, and became a vagabond, a Cain, the accursed, I thought, of God and man I, your poor Harriet, a widow; left in the most calamitous circumstance that a woman can be in Good Heaven! But, avaunt, recollection! Painful, most painful, recollection of ideas so terrible! none of your intrusions

No more of these horrid, horrid incongruities, will I trouble you with! How have they run away with me! I am hardly now recovered from the tremblings into which they threw me!

What, my dear, is the reason, that though we know these dreams, these fleeting shadows of the night, to be no more than dreams, illusions of the working mind, fettered and debased as it is by the organs ihrougli which it conveys its confined powers to the grosser matter, body, then sleeping, inactive, as in the shades of death; yet that we cannot help being strongly impressed by theni, and meditating interpretation of the flying vapours, when reason is broad awake, and tells us, that it is weakness to be disturbed at them? But superstition is, more or less, I believe, in ev-ry mind, a natural defect. Happily poised is that .\\\vA, v,hicl), on ihe one hand, is too ffronfj to be affected by the slavish fears it brings with it; and, on the otiicr, runs not into the contrary extreme, scepticism, the parent of infidelity!