o wants them; in which you are
greatly mistaken.

Every real pleasure is within the reach of my little fortune, and I
am very indifferent about those which borrow their charms, not from
nature, but from fashion and caprice.

My house is indeed less than yours; but it is finely situated, and
large enough for my fortune: that part of it which belongs peculiarly
to my Emily is elegant.

I have an equipage, not for parade but use; and the loveliest of
women prefers it with me to all that luxury and magnificence could
bestow with another.

The flowers in my garden bloom as fair, the peach glows as deep, as
in yours: does a flower blush more lovely, or smell more sweet; a peach
look more tempting than its fellows, I select it for my Emily, who
receives it with delight, as the tender tribute of love.

In some respects, we are the more happy for being less rich: the
little avocations, which our mediocrity of fortune makes necessary to
both, are the best preventives of that languor, from being too
constantly together, which is all that love founded on taste and
friendship has to fear.

Had I my choice, I should wish for a very small addition only to my
income, and that for the sake of others, not myself.

I love pleasure, and think it our duty to make life as agreable as
is consistent with what we owe to others; but a true pleasurable
philosopher seeks his enjoyments where they are really to be found; not
in the gratifications of a childish pride, but of those affections
which are born with us, and which are the only rational sources of
enjoyment.

When I am walking in these delicious shades with Emily; when I see
those lovely eyes, softened with artless fondness, and hear the music
of that voice; when a thousand trifles, unobserved but by the prying
sight of love, betray all the dear sensations of that bosom, where
truth and delicate tenderness have fixed their seat, I know not the
Epicurean of whom I do not deserve to be the envy.

Does your fortune, my dear Temple, make you more than happy? if not,
why so very earnestly wish an addition to mine? believe me, there is
nothing about which I am more indifferent. I am ten times more anxious
to get the finest collection of flowers in the world for my Emily.

You observe justly, that there is nothing so insipid as women who
have conversed with women only; let me add, nor so brutal as men who
have lived only amongst men.

The desire of pleasing on each side, in an inte