University of Virginia Library

I am impatient for an opportunity of returning
your civilities, my dear Matilda; and if
possible, of repaying you some part of the pleasure,
which you so liberally afforded me, during
my late visit to your hospitable mansion. For
this purpose, I must insist on the performance of
your promise to spend the winter in town. It is
true that I cannot contribute to your amusement
in kind. Yet, according to the generally received
opinion, that variety is necessary to the enjoyment
of life, we may find our's mutually heightened
by the exchange. Delightful rambles, and
hours of contemplative solitude, free from the
interruptions of formality and fashion, I cannot
insure; but you may depend on all that friendship
and assiduity can substitute; and while the
bleak winds are howling abroad, a cheerful fireside,
and a social circle, may dispel the gloom of
the season. The pleasures of our family are very
local. Few are sought, in which the understanding
and affections can have no share. For this
reason, a select, not a promiscuous acquaintance
is cultivated. And however unfashionable our
practice may be deemed, we can find entertainment,
even in the dull hours of winter, without
recourse to cards. Almost every other recreation

affords some exercise and improvement to
the body or mind, or both; but from this neither
can result. The whole attention is absorbed
by the game. Reason lies dormant, and the passions
only are awake. However little is depending,
the parties are frequently as much agitated
by hope and fear, as if their all were at stake.
It is difficult for the vanquished not to feel chagrin;
while the victors are gratified at the expense
of their friends. But the principal objection
with me, is the utter exclusion of conversation;
a source of pleasure, and of profit too, for which
I can admit nothing as an equivalent. Winter
evenings are peculiarly adapted to this rational
and refined entertainment. Deprived of that variety
of scenery, and those beauties of nature,
which the vernal and autumnal seasons exhibit,
we are obliged to have recourse to the fire-side
for comfort. Here we have leisure to collect
our scattered ideas, and to improve, by social
intercourse, and the exertion of our mental
powers.

Our sex are often rallied on their volubility:
and, for myself, I frankly confess, that I am so
averse to taciturnity, and so highly prize the advantages
of society and friendship, that I had
rather plead guilty to the charge than relinquish
them.

Come then, Matilda, participate the pleasures,
and accelerate the improvement, of your affec-tionate
friend,