My ideas of affection are perhaps uncommon; but they are not the less just, nor the less in nature.

A blind man may as well judge of colors as the mass of mankind of the sentiments of a truly enamored heart.

The sensual and the cold will equally condemn my affection as romantic:  few minds, my dear Bell, are capable of love; they feel passion, they feel esteem; they even feel that mixture of both which is the best counterfeit of love; but of that vivifying fire, that lively tenderness which hurries us out of ourselves, they know nothing; that tenderness which makes us forget ourselves, when the interest, the happiness, the honor, of him we love is concerned; that tenderness which renders the beloved object all that we see in the creation.

Yes, my Rivers, I live, I breathe, I exist, for you alone:  be happy, and your Emily is so.

My dear friend, you know love, and will therefore bear with all the impertinence of a tender heart.

I hope you have by this time made Fitzgerald happy; he deserves you, amiable as you are, and you cannot too soon convince him of your affection:  you sometimes play cruelly with his tenderness:  I have been astonished to see you torment a heart which adores you.

I am interrupted.

    Adieu! my dear Bell. 
        Your affectionate
          Emily Montague.

LETTER 167.

To Captain Fermor, at Silleri.

Clarges Street, Aug. 1.

Lord ——­ not being in town, I went to his villa at Richmond, to deliver your letter.

I cannot enough, my dear Sir, thank you for this introduction; I passed part of the day at Richmond, and never was more pleasingly entertained.

His politeness, his learning, his knowledge of the world, however amiable, are in character at his season of life; but his vivacity is astonishing.

What fire, what spirit, there is in his conversation!  I hardly thought myself a young man near him.  What must he have been at five and twenty?

He desired me to tell you, all his interest should be employed for Fitzgerald, and that he wished you to come to England as soon as possible.

We are just setting off for Temple’s house in Rutland.

    Adieu! 
      Your affectionate
          Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 168.

To Captain Fermor, at Silleri.

Temple-house, Aug. 4.

I enjoy, my dear friend, in one of the pleasantest houses, and most agreable situations imaginable, the society of the four persons in the world most dear to me; I am in all respects as much at home as if master of the family, without the cares attending that station; my wishes, my desires, are prevented by Temple’s attention and friendship, and my mother and sister’s amiable anxiety to oblige me; I find an unspeakable softness in seeing my lovely Emily every moment, in seeing her adored by my family, in seeing her without restraint, in being in the same house, in living in that easy converse which is born from friendship alone:  yet I am not happy.