Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald every moment. Adieu!

Your affectionate
Emily Montague.

LETTER 183.

To Captain Fitzgerald.

Bellfield, Sept. 17.

You say true, my dear Fitzgerald: friendship, like love, is more the
child of sympathy than of reason; though inspired by qualities very
opposite to those which give love, it strikes like that in a moment:
like that, it is free as air, and, when constrained, loses all its
spirit.

In both, from some nameless cause, at least some cause to us
incomprehensible, the affections take fire the instant two persons,
whose minds are in unison, observe each other, which, however, they may
often meet without doing.

It is therefore as impossible for others to point out objects of our
friendship as love; our choice must be uninfluenced, if we wish to find
happiness in either.

Cold, lifeless esteem may grow from a long tasteless acquaintance;
but real affection makes a sudden and lively impression.

This impression is improved, is strengthened by time, and a more
intimate knowledge of the merit of the person who makes it; but it is,
it must be, spontaneous, or be nothing.

I felt this sympathy powerfully in regard to yourself; I had the
strongest partiality for you before I knew how very worthy you were of
my esteem.

Your countenance and manner made an impression on me, which inclined
me to take your virtues upon trust.

It is not always safe to depend on these preventive feelings; but in
general the face is a pretty faithful index of the mind.

I propose being in town in four or five days.

Twelve o'clock.

My mother has this moment a second letter from her relation, who is
coming home, and proposes a marriage between me and his daughter, to
whom he will give twenty thousand pounds now, and the rest of his
fortune at his death.

As Emily's fault, if love can allow her one, is an excess of
romantic generosity, the fault of most uncorrupted female minds, I am
very anxious to marry her before she knows of this proposal, lest she
should think it a proof of tenderness to aim at making me wretched, in
order to make me rich.

I therefore entreat you and Mrs. Fitzgerald to stay at Rose-hill,
and prevent her coming to town, till she is mine past the power of
retreat.

Our relation may have mentioned his design to persons less prudent
than our little party; and she may hear of it, if she is in London.

But, independently of my fear of her spirit of roma