LETTER I

Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, Esq. 
Friday evening.

Just returned from an airing with my charmer, complied with after great importunity.  She was attended by the two nymphs.  They both topt their parts; kept their eyes within bounds; made moral reflections now-and-then.  O Jack! what devils are women, when all tests are got over, and we have completely ruined them!

The coach carried us to Hampstead, to Highgate, to Muswell-hill; back to Hampstead to the Upper-Flask:  there, in compliment to the nymphs, my beloved consented to alight, and take a little repast.  Then home early by Kentish-town.

Delightfully easy she, and so respectful and obliging I, all the way, and as we walked out upon the heath, to view the variegated prospects which that agreeable elevation affords, that she promised to take now-and-then a little excursion with me.  I think, Miss Howe, I think, said I to myself, every now-and-then as we walked, that thy wicked devices are superceded.

But let me give thee a few particulars of our conversation in the circumrotation we took, while in the coach—­She had received a letter from Miss Howe yesterday, I presumed?

She made no answer.  How happy should I think myself to be admitted into their correspondence?  I would joyfully make an exchange of communications.

So, though I hoped not to succeed by her consent, [and little did she think I had so happily in part succeeded without it,] I thought it not amiss to urge for it, for several reasons:  among others, that I might account to her for my constant employment at my pen; in order to take off her jealousy, that she was the subject of thy correspondence and mine:  and that I might justify my secrecy and uncommunicativeness by her own.

I proceeded therefore—­That I loved familiar-letter-writing, as I had more than once told her, above all the species of writing:  it was writing from the heart, (without the fetters prescribed by method or study,) as the very word cor-respondence implied.  Not the heart only; the soul was in it.  Nothing of body, when friend writes to friend; the mind impelling sovereignly the vassal-fingers.  It was, in short, friendship recorded; friendship given under hand and seal; demonstrating that the parties were under no apprehension of changing from time or accident, when they so liberally gave testimonies, which would always be ready, on failure or infidelity, to be turned against them.—­For my own part, it was the principal diversion I had in her absence; but for this innocent amusement, the distance she so frequently kept me at would have been intolerable.

Sally knew my drift; and said, She had had the honour to see two or three of my letters, and of Mr. Belford’s; and she thought them the most entertaining that she had ever read.