University of Virginia Library

LETTER VII.
Mrs. HOLMES to Miss HARRINGTON.

Although my attachment
to Belleview is not so romantick as your airy
pen has described it, I think its quiet and
amusements infinitely preferable to the busfle
and parade with which you are surrounded.

THE improvements made here by my
late husband (who inherited the virtues of
his parents, who still protect me, and endeavour
to console the anguish of his loss
by the most tender affection) have rendered
the charms of Belleview superiour in my
estimation to every gilded scene of the gay
world.

IT is almost vanity to pretend to give you
a description of the beauty of the prospect—
the grandeur of the river that rolls through
the meadow in front of the house, or any
eulogium on rural elegance, because these
scenes are common to most places in the
country. Nature is every where liberal in
dispensing her beauties and her variety—
and I pity those who look round and declare
they see neither.

A GREAT proportion of our happiness
depends on our own choice—it offers itself
to our taste, but it is the heart that gives it
a relish—what at one time, for instance, we
think to be humour, is at another disgustful
or insipid—so, unless we carry our appetite
with us to the treat, we shall vainly wish to

make ourselves happy. “Was I in a defart,”
says Sterne, “I would find wherewith
“in it to call forth my affections—If I could
“do no better, I would fasten them on
“some sweet myrtle, or seek some melan
“choly cypress to connect myself to—I
“would court their shade and greet them
“kindly for their protection—If their leaves
“withered, I would teach myself to mourn,
“and when they rejoiced, I would rejoice
“along with them.”

I BELIEVE you could hardly find the way
to the summer house, where we have enjoyed
many happy hours together, and
which you used to call “The Temple of
Apollo.” It is now more elegantly furnished
than it formerly was, and is enriched

with a considerable addition to the library
and musick.

IN front of the avenue that leads to this
place, is a figure of CONTENT, pointing
with one hand to the Temple, and with the
other to an INVITATION, executed in such
an antique style, that you would think it
done either by the ancient inhabitants of
the country, or by the hand of a Fairy—she
is very particular in the characters she invites,
but those whom she invites she heartily
welcomes.

Rural Inscription.

THESE are the scenes to which I have
chosen to retreat; contented with the suffrage
of the virtuous and the good, and inattentive
to the contemptuous sneer of the giddy
and the futile, for even these have the vanity
to look with pity on those who voluntarily
remove from whatever agrees with their
ideas of pleasure. He who has no conception
of the beauties of the mind, will contemn
a person aukward or illfavoured; and
one whose store of enjoyment is drawn from
affluence and abundance, will be astonished
at the conduct of him who finds cause to
rejoice, though surrounded with inconvenience
and penury. Hence we judge of the
happiness of others by the standard of our
own conduct and prejudices.

FROM this misjudging race I retire, without
a sigh to mingle in their amusements,
nor yet disgusted at whatever is thought of
sufficient consequence to engage their pursuits.
I fly from the tumult of the town—
from scenes of boisterous pleasure and riot,
to those of quietness and peace, “where
every breeze breathes health, and every
sound is the echo of tranquillity.”—On this
subject I give my sentiments to you with
freedom, from a conviction that I bear the
world no spleen; at the same time with a
degree of deference to the judgment of
others, from a conviction that I may be a
little prejudiced.

I HOPE to be with you soon—in the mean
time continue to write.