Zilia to Celina.

My dear Celina, I am very unhappy; you leave me alone, and a more cruel enemy than myself could not be my companion. Incessantly haunted by the most bitter reflections upon misfortunes which it was impossible to foresee, and not philosopher enough to reconcile my mind to them, I can by no means enjoy that peace of mind which this charming solitude seems to offer; on the contrary, it seems only to bring back to remembrance the cruel Aza, with all his charms.

In vain do I call reason to my aid, in vain recollect my insulted love, returned by such ingratitude; I am convinced that time only can restore me to myself. Why was it not the fates' decree, that such tender delicate sentiments should be reserved for Deterville? He would have been sensible of their value; but how could I see into events of which I never could conceive the least idea. The first time I ever beheld Aza, he appeared with every advantage that man could enjoy; birth, merit, and a noble figure, joined with the warmest love, authorised by duty.

Was there any thing else wanting to engage a virgin heart, by nature endued with tender sentiments? This heart was so given up without reserve, I breathed for him alone; if I was conscious of any beauty, or if I desired to make it more pleasing in the eyes of others, it was only that I might be more worthy of him, and, if possible, still more increase his passion. Our happiness was perfect, till that fatal revolution, which separated us; long absence, acquaintance with others, and the loss of riches, have, doubtless, been the reasons that have made him give me up, that he may enjoy those advantages which are now offered him, and which he can never hope to obtain by an union with me.