We neglect these amiable deities, but they are revenged; true
pleasure is only to be found under their auspices.
I know not how it is, my dear Fitzgerald; but I don't find my
passion for the country abate.
I still find the scenes around me lovely; though, from the change
of season, less smiling than when I first fixed at Bellfield; we have
rural business enough to amuse, not embarrass us; we have a small but
excellent library of books, given us by my mother; she and Emily are
two of the most pleasing companions on earth; the neighbourhood is full
of agreable people, and, what should always be attended to in fixing in
the country, of fortunes not superior to our own.
The evenings grow long, but they are only the more jovial; I love
the pleasures of the table, not for their own sakes, for no man is more
indifferent on this subject; but because they promote social,
convivial joy, and bring people together in good humor with themselves
and each other.
My Emily's suppers are enchanting; but our little income obliges us
to have few: if I was rich, this would be my principal extravagance.
To fill up my measure of content, Emily is pleased with my
retirement, and finds all her happiness in my affection.
We are so little alone, that I find our moments of unreserved
conversation too short; whenever I leave her, I recollect a thousand
things I had to say, a thousand new ideas to communicate, and am
impatient for the hour of seeing again, without restraint, the most
amiable and pleasing of woman-kind.
My happiness would be complete, if I did not sometimes see a cloud
of anxiety on that dear countenance, which, however, is dissipated the
moment my eyes meet hers.