To Colonel Bellville.
Thursday.
A PRETTY sentimental letter your last,
and would make an admirable figure
in a true history of Celadon and Urania.
Absolutely though, Bellville, for people
who have sensibility, and so little prospect
of coming together in an honorable way,
we are a most extraordinary pair of lovers.
And yet the world–à propos to the world,
a French author I am reading says, A wise
writer, to divert the fury of criticism from
his works, should throw it now and then an
indiscretion in his conduct to play with, as
seamen do a tub to the whale.
Do not you think this might be a useful
hint to us beauties? If I treat the good
old ladies sometimes with a little imprudence
in regard to you, my complexion
may escape the better for it.
We are just returned from a party on the
water, which, like most concerted parties,
turned out exceedingly dull: we had gilded
barges, excellent musick, an elegant repast,
and all that could invite Pleasure amongst
us; but whether her Ladyship be a true
coquette, flying fastest when pursued, or
what is the reason I know not, but certain
it is, one seldom finds her when one goes
to seek her; her visits are generally spontaneous
and unexpected; she rejects all invitations,
and comes upon you in her own
way, by surprize. I set off in high spirits,
my heart beating with expectation, and never
past a more languid day; I fancied
every moment would be pleasanter, but
found the last hour as spiritless as the first.
I saw chagrin and disappointment in the
eyes of half the company, especially the
younger part of it. Lady Julia seemed to
say, "All this would be charming, if Harry
Mandeville was here." My own ideas
were something similar, I could not keep
my imagination from wandering a little to
Grosvenor-street; most of the misses were
in the same situation, whilst the good old
people seemed perfectly satisfied; which
convinces me that, at a certain time of life,
there is no pleasure without the heart;
where that is untouched, and takes no part
in your amusements, all is still life and
vegetation: it is in vain to expect enjoyment
from outward objects, where the soul
is from home.
I missed my sweet Harry exceedingly;
for, though not a lover, he is a divine fellow;
and there is something vastly amusing
in having so agreeable an object before one's
eyes.
Whenever I make a party of pleasure,
it shall consist all of lovers, who have not
met for a twelvemonth.
Who should we meet on our return, but
Fondville, in a superb barge, full of company,
dying at the feet of the Cittadina, who
was singing a melting Italian air. Yes, we
are to be Lady Viscountess Fondville, all is
agreed, the cloaths bespoke, our very garters
interwoven with coronets. I shall get off
before the days of visitation, for there will
be no supporting Madame la Viscomtesse.
I have been talking half an hour tete à
tete with Lady Mary; and have let her into
the secret of little Westbrook's passion for
Harry: She drew up at the very mention;
was astonished, that a creature of yesterday
could think of mixing his blood with that
of Mandeville; and declared she knew but
twenty houses in Europe into which she
should ever consent to Harry's marrying.
I took this opportunity of giving a hint
of his inclination for Lady Julia, but am
doubtful whether she understood me. Oh!
that he had Lord Melvin's expectations!
But why do I wish for impossibilities? Let
me rather wish, what is next to impossible,
that Lord Belmont would overlook the want
of them!
Adieu!
