hat
excess I have loved you.

Were the empire of the world or your affection offered me, I should
not hesitate one moment on the choice, even were I certain never to see
you more.

I cannot form an idea of happiness equal to that of being beloved by
the most amiable of mankind.

Judge then, if I would lightly wish to defer an event, which is to
give me the transport of passing my life in the dear employment of
making him happy.

I only entreat that you will decline asking me, till I judge proper
to tell you, why I first begged our marriage might be deferred: let it
be till then forgot I ever made such a request.

You will not, my dear Rivers, refuse this proof of complaisance to
her who too plainly shews she can refuse you nothing.

Adieu! Yours,
Emily Montague.

LETTER 191.

To Miss Montague, Rose-hill, Berkshire.

Clarges Street, Sept. 21, Two o'clock.

Can you, my angel, forgive my insolent impatience, and attribute it
to the true cause, excess of love?

Could I be such a monster as to blame my sweet Emily's dear
expressions of tenderness? I hate myself for being capable of writing
such a letter.

Be assured, I will strictly comply with all she desires: what
condition is there on which I would not make the loveliest of women
mine?

I will follow the servant in two hours; I shall be at Rose-hill by
eight o'clock.

Adieu! my dearest Emily!
Your faithful
Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 192.

To John Temple, Esq; Temple-house, Rutland.

Sept. 21, Nine at night.

The loveliest of women has consented to make me happy: she
remonstrated, she doubted; but her tenderness conquered all her
reluctance. To-morrow I shall call her mine.

We shall set out immediately for your house, where we hope to be the
next day to dinner: you will therefore postpone your journey to town a
week, at the end of which we intend going to Bellfield. Captain Fermor
and Mrs. Fitzgerald accompany us down. Emily's relation, Mrs. H----, has
business which prevents her; and Fitzgerald is obliged to stay another
month in town, to transact the affair of his majority.

Never did Emily look so lovely as this evening: there is a sweet
confusion, mixed with tenderness, in her whole look and manner, which
is charming beyond all expression.

Adieu! I have not a moment to spare: even this absence from her is
treason to love. Say every thing for me to my mother and Lucy.

Yours,