73 
to suppose she can have taken away my honesty 
and openness of heart ? Thank God, this is not the 
case.—How often do I think of the days of our 
childhood, when we have so often by sympathy 
retired from the social scene, to relieve ourselves 
from that gentle restraint which the presence of our 
partners or friends (though the most indulgent in 
the world) laid us under, to pour out all our 
thoughts on each other’s bosom, to communicate 
our little discontents or our joys, our childish ob- 
servations, and our innocent merriment ; but chiefly 
to indulge that sympathy of soul which appeared 
so early, and which may Heaven still cherish! 
How often have we been forced to have recourse 
to the mute expression of looks or embraces, when 
our young bosoms swelled with feelings which our 
artless tongues could not utter! My heart exults 
with conscious dignity at the idea. I recollect with 
no less pleasure the few but most happy days we 
have passed together in the course of our riper 
youth. 
A thousand Norwich and Yarmouth scenes arise 
to my mind ;—our evening walk by the sea-shore ; 
our more cheerful excursion in the Yarmouth cart ; 
our dancing parties, and the conversations which 
passed after we had left them ; our last sad parting ; 
—can we forget these? If we do not forget them, 
can we ever think otherwise of each other than we 
do? Let us then not suspect each other, or if we 
do, let us communicate our suspicions.—Friend- 
ship is an intellectual marriage, and the same turn 
of mind and character which makes us lastingly 
