Chapter XLVIII: Letter XLVII: Harrington to Worthy

_Boston._

I NO longer receive satisfaction from the enjoyments of the world—society is distasteful to me—my favorite authors I have entirely relinquished—In vain I try to forget myself, or seek for consolation—my repose is interrupted by distressing visions of the night—my thoughts are broken—I cannot even think regularly.

HARRIOT is very weak—there is no hope of her life.

Adieu!