To Colonel Bellville.
August 6th.
CERTAINLY next to a new lover the
pleasantest thing upon earth is a
new friend: let antediluvians take seven
years to fix, but for us insects of an hour,
nothing can be more absurd: by the time
one has try'd them on these maxims, one's
taste for them is worn out. I have made
a thousand friendships at first sight, and
sometimes broke them at the second;
there is a certain exertion of soul, a lively
desire of pleasing, which gives a kind of
volatile spirit to a beginning acquaintance,
which is extremely apt to evaporate. Some
people make a great merit of constancy, and
it is to be sure a very laudable virtue; but,
for my part, I am above dissembling: My
friendships wear out like my clothes, but
often much faster.
Not that this is the case in regard to
Emily Howard; no, really, I think this
Penchant is very likely to be lasting; may
probably hold out the summer.
To-morrow, when Harry leaves us, my
Lord, to divert our chagrin, takes, us, with
three strange belles and vie most engaging
beaux, a ramble I cannot tell whither.
Saturday Morning.
Oh! Heavens! one of our male animals
has disappointed us. Absolutely I shall insist
on Harry's attendance; he shall defer
his journey, I am resolved: there is no supporting
a scarcity of beaux.
He goes with us; Lady Julia's eyes
have prevailed; she had seduced him before
I went down: his chaise is ordered
back to wait for ours.
Adio, Carrissimo.