Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 193.

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

Rose-hill, Sept. 22, Ten o'clock.

She is mine, my dear Temple; and I am happy almost above mortality.

I cannot paint to you her loveliness; the grace, the dignity, the
mild majesty of her air, is softened by a smile like that of angels:
her eyes have a tender sweetness, her cheeks a blush of refined
affection, which must be seen to be imagined.

I envy Captain Fermor the happiness of being in the same chaise with
her; I shall be very bad company to Bell, who insists on my being her
cecisbeo for the journey.

Adieu! The chaises are at the door.

Your affectionate
Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 194.

To Captain Fitzgerald.

Temple-house, Sept. 29.

I regret your not being with us, more than I can express.

I would have every friend I love a witness of my happiness.

I thought my tenderness for Emily as great as man could feel, yet
find it every moment increase; every moment she is more dear to my
soul.

The angel delicacy of that lovely mind is inconceivable; had she no
other charm, I should adore her: what a lustre does modesty throw round
beauty!

We remove to-morrow to Bellfield: I am impatient to see my sweet
girl in her little empire: I am tired of the continual crowd in which
we live at Temple's: I would not pass the life he does for all his
fortune; I sigh for the power of spending my time as I please, for the
dear shades of retirement and friendship.

How little do mankind know their own happiness! every pleasure worth
a wish is in the power of almost all mankind.

Blind to true joy, ever engaged in a wild pursuit of what is always
in our power, anxious for that wealth which we falsely imagine
necessary to our enjoyments, we suffer our best hours to pass
tastelessly away; we neglect the pleasures which are suited to our
natures; and, intent on ideal schemes of establishments at which we
never arrive, let the dear hours of social delight escape us.

Hasten to us, my dear Fitzgerald: we want only you, to fill our
little circle of friends.

Your affectionate
Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 195.

To Captain Fitzgerald.

Bellfield, Oct. 3.

What delight is there in obliging those we love!

My heart dilated with joy at seeing Emily pleased with the little
embellishments of her apartment, which I had made as gay and smiling
as the morn; it looked, indeed, as if the hand of love had ad