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.

LETTER 200.

To Captain Fitzgerald.

Oct. 17.

I every hour see more strongly, my dear Fitzgerald, the wisdom, as
to our own happiness, of not letting our hearts be worn out by a
multitude of intrigues before marriage.

Temple loves my sister, he is happy with her; but his happiness is
by no means of the same kind with yours and mine; she is beautiful, and
he thinks her so; she is amiable, and he esteems her; he prefers her to
all other women, but he feels nothing of that trembling delicacy of
sentiment, that quick sensibility, which gives to love its most
exquisite pleasures, and which I would not give up for the wealth of
worlds.

His affection is meer passion, and therefore subject to change; ours
is that heartfelt tenderness, which time renders every moment more
pleasing.

The tumult of desire is the fever of the soul; its health, that
delicious tranquillity where the heart is gently moved, not violently
agitated; that tranquillity which is only to be found where friendship
is the basis of love, and where we are happy without injuring the
object beloved: in other words, in a marriage of choice.

In the voyage of life, passion is the tempest, love the gentle gale.

Dissipation, and a continued round of amusements at home, will
probably secure my sister all of Temple's heart which remains; but his
love would grow languid in that state of retirement, which would have a
thousand charms for minds like ours.

I will own to you, I have fears for Lucy's happiness.

But let us drop so painful a subject.

Adieu!
Your affectionate
Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 201.

To Colonel Rivers, Bellfield, Rutland.

Oct. 19.

Nothing, my dear Rivers, shews the value of friendship more than the
envy it excites.

The world will sooner pardon us any advantage, even wealth, genius,
or beauty, than that of having a faithful friend; every selfish bosom
swells with envy at the sight of those social connexions, which are the
cordials of life, and of which our narrow prejudices alone prevent our
enjoyment.

Those who have