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"You have travelled; you have spent several years of your life at

Ingolstadt; and I confess to you, my friend, that when I saw you

last autumn so unhappy, flying to solitude from the society of

every creature, I could not help supposing that you might regret

our connection and believe yourself bound in honour to fulfil the

wishes of your parents, although they opposed themselves to your

inclinations. But this is false reasoning. I confess to you, my

friend, that I love you and that in my airy dreams of futurity

you have been my constant friend and companion. But it is your

happiness I desire as well as my own when I declare to you that

our marriage would render me eternally miserable unless it were

the dictate of your own free choice. Even now I weep to think

that, borne down as you are by the cruellest misfortunes, you may

stifle, by the word honour, all hope of that love and happiness

which would alone restore you to yourself.