small errors, when it is an amazing proof of prudence not
to commit great ones.

For my own part, I think those who never have been guilty of any
indiscretion, are generally people who have very little active virtue.

The waving line holds in moral as well as in corporeal beauty.

Adieu!
Yours ever,
A. Fitzgerald.

All I can say is, that if imprudence is a sin, heaven help your poor
little Bell!

On those principles, Sir George is the most virtuous man in the
world; to which assertion, I believe, you will enter a caveat.

LETTER 221.

To Colonel Rivers, at Bellfield, Rutland.

London, Nov. 19.

You are right, my little Rivers: I like your friend, Colonel
Willmott vastly better for his aquiline nose; I never yet saw one on
the face of a fool.

He is a fortunate man to be introduced to such a party of fine women
at his arrival; it is literally _to feed among the lilies_.

Fitzgerald says, he should be jealous of him in your esteem, if he
was fifteen years younger; but that the strongest friendships are,
where there is an equality in age; because people of the same age have
the same train of thinking, and see things in the same light.

Every season of life has its peculiar set of ideas; and we are
greatly inclined to think nobody in the right, but those who are of the
same opinion with ourselves.

Don't you think it a strong proof of my passion for my _sposo_,
that I repeat his sentiments?

But to business: Sir William is charmed with his little nephew; has
promised to settle on him what he before mentioned, to allow Miss
Williams an hundred pounds a year, which is to go to the child after
her death, and to be at the expence of his education himself.

I die to hear whether your oriental Colonel is in love with Emily.

Pray tell us every thing.

Adieu!
Your affectionate
A. Fitzgerald.

LETTER 222.

To Captain Fitzgerald.

Temple-house, Thursday morning, 11 o'clock.

Our masquerade last night was really charming; I never saw any thing
equal to it out of London.

Temple has taste, and had spared no expence to make it agreable; the
decorations of the grand saloon were magnificent.

Emily was the loveliest _paisanne_ that ever was beheld; her
dress, without losing sight of the character, was infinitely becoming:
her beauty never appeared to such advantage.

There was a noble simplicity in her air, which it is impossible to
describe.

The