To Captain Fitzgerald.
Bellfield, Oct. 14.
You flatter me most agreably, my dear Fitzgerald, by praising Emily;
I want you to see her again; she is every hour more charming: I am
astonished any man can behold her without love.
Yet, lovely as she is, her beauty is her least merit; the finest
understanding, the most pleasing kind of knowledge; tenderness,
sensibility, modesty, and truth, adorn her almost with rays of
divinity.
She has, beyond all I ever saw in either sex, the polish of the
world, without having lost that sweet simplicity of manner, that
unaffected innocence, and integrity of heart, which are so very apt to
evaporate in a crowd.
I ride out often alone, in order to have the pleasure of returning
to her: these little absences give new spirit to our tenderness. Every
care forsakes me at the sight of this temple of real love; my sweet
Emily meets me with smiles; her eyes brighten when I approach; she
receives my friends with the most lively pleasure, because they are my
friends; I almost envy them her attention, though given for my sake.
Elegant in her dress and house, she is all transport when any little
ornament of either pleases me; but what charms me most, is her
tenderness for my mother, in whose heart she rivals both me and Lucy.
My happiness, my friend, is beyond every idea I had formed; were I a
little richer, I should not have a wish remaining. Do not, however,
imagine this wish takes from my felicity.
I have enough for myself, I have even enough for Emily; love makes
us indifferent to the parade of life.
But I have not enough to entertain my friends as I wish, nor to
enjoy the god-like pleasure of beneficence.
We shall be obliged, in order to support the little appearance
necessary to our connexions, to give an attention rather too strict to
our affairs; even this, however, our affection for each other will make
easy to us.
My whole soul is so taken up with this charming woman, I am afraid I
shall become tedious even to you; I must learn to restrain my
tenderness, and write on common subjects.
I am more and more pleased with the way of life I have chose; and,
were my fortune ever so large, would pass the greatest part of the year
in the country: I would only enlarge my house, and fill it with
friends.
My situation is a very fine one, though not like the magnificent
scenes to which we have been accustomed in Canada: the house stands on
the sunny side of a hill, at the foot of which, the garden intervening,
runs a little trout stream, which to the right seems to be lost in an
island of oziers, and over which is a rustic bridge into a very
beautiful meadow, where at present graze a numerous flock of sheep.
Emily is planning a thousand embellishments for the garden, and will
next year make it a wilderness of sweets, a paradise worthy its lovely
inhabitant: she is already forming walks and flowery arbors in the
wood, and giving the whole scene every charm which taste, at little
expence, can bestow.
I, on my side, am selecting spots for plantations of trees; and
mean, like a good citizen, to serve at once myself and the public, by
raising oaks, which may hereafter bear the British thunder to distant
lands.
I believe we country gentlemen, whilst we have spirit to keep
ourselves independent, are the best citizens, as well as subjects, in
the world.
Happy ourselves, we wish not to destroy the tranquillity of others;
intent on cares equally useful and pleasing, with no views but to
improve our fortunes by means equally profitable to ourselves and to
our country, we form no schemes of dishonest ambition; and therefore
disturb no government to serve our private designs.
It is the profuse, the vicious, the profligate, the needy, who are
the Clodios and Catilines of this world.
That love of order, of moral harmony, so natural to virtuous minds,
to minds at ease, is the strongest tie of rational obedience.
The man who feels himself prosperous and happy, will not easily be
perswaded by factious declamation that he is undone.
Convinced of the excellency of our constitution, in which liberty
and prerogative are balanced with the steadiest hand, he will not
endeavor to remove the boundaries which secure both: he will not
endeavor to root it up, whilst he is pretending to give it
nourishment: he will not strive to cut down the lovely and venerable
tree under whose shade he enjoys security and peace.
In short, and I am sure you will here be of my opinion, the man who
has competence, virtue, true liberty, and the woman he loves, will
chearfully obey the laws which secure him these blessings, and the
prince under whose mild sway he enjoys them.
Adieu!
Your faithful
Ed. Rivers.