Mr. Chute and I agreed invariably in our principles; he was may counsel in my affairs, was my oracle in taste, the standard to whom I submitted my trifles, and the genius that presided over poor Strawberry! His sense decided me in everything; his wit and quickness illuminated everything. I saw him oftener than any other man; to him in every difficulty I had recourse, and him I loved to have here, as our friendship was so entire, and we knew on another so entirely, that he alone never was the least contraint to me. We passed many hours together without saying a syllable to each other; for we were both above ceremony. I left him without excusing myself, read or wrote before him, as if he were not present. Alas! alas! and how self presides even in grief. I am lamenting myself, not him! — no, I am lamenting my other self. Half is gone; the other remains solitary.