* * * * *
You will be frightened, when you see this long letter. I smile, when I
consider the length of it myself. I never, that I remember, wrote any of
the same extent. But it shows me that the reproaches of the country that
I once belonged to, and in which I still have a dearness of instinct
more than I can justify to reason, make a greater impression on me than
I had imagined. But parting words are admitted to be a little tedious,
because they are not likely to be renewed. If it will not be making
yourself as troublesome to others as I am to you, I shall be obliged to
you, if you will show this, at their greatest leisure, to the Speaker,
to your excellent kinsman, to Mr. Grattan, Mr. Yelverton, and Mr. Daly:
all these I have the honor of being personally known to, except Mr.
Yelverton, to whom I am only known by my obligations to him. If you live
in any habits with my old friend, the Provost, I shall be glad that he,
too, sees this my humble apology.
Adieu! once more accept my best thanks for the interest you take in me.
Believe that it is received by an heart not yet so old as to have lost
its susceptibility.
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