neither hearts to feel this generous affection, nor
merit to deserve it, hate all who are in this respect happier than
themselves; they look on a friend as an invaluable blessing, and a
blessing out of their reach; and abhor all who possess the treasure for
which they sigh in vain.

For my own part, I had rather be the dupe of a thousand false
professions of friendship, than, for fear of being deceived, give up
the pursuit.

Dupes are happy at least for a time; but the cold, narrow,
suspicious heart never knows the glow of social pleasure.

In the same proportion as we lose our confidence in the virtues of
others, we lose our proper happiness.

The observation of this mean jealousy, so humiliating to human
nature, has influenced Lord Halifax, in his Advice to a Daughter, the
school of art, prudery, and selfish morals, to caution her against all
friendships, or, as he calls them, _dearnesses_, as what will make
the world envy and hate her.

After my sweet Bell's tenderness, I know no pleasure equal to your
friendship; nor would I give it up for the revenue of an eastern
monarch.

I esteem Temple, I love his conversation; he is gay and amusing;
but I shall never have for him the affection I feel for you.

I think you are too apprehensive in regard to your sister's
happiness: he loves her, and there is a certain variety in her manner,
a kind of agreable caprice, that I think will secure the heart of a man
of his turn, much more than her merit, or even the loveliness of her
person.

She is handsome, exquisitely so; handsomer than Bell, and, if you
will allow me to say so, than Emily.

I mean, that she is so in the eye of a painter; for in that of a
lover his mistress is the only beautiful object on earth.

I allow your sister to be very lovely, but I think Bell more
desirable a thousand times; and, rationally speaking, she who has,
_as to me_, the art of inspiring the most tenderness is, _as to me_,
to all intents and purposes the most beautiful woman.

In which faith I chuse to live and die.

I have an idea, Rivers, that you and I shall continue to be happy: a
real sympathy, a lively taste, mixed with esteem, led us to marry; the
delicacy, tenderness, and virtue, of the two most charming of women,
promise to keep our love alive.

We have both strong affections: both love the conversation of women;
and neither of our hearts are depraved by ill-chosen connexions with the
sex.

I am broke in upon, and mus