e same light as a
lover considers a rope-ladder which he fastens to his mistress's
window: If they can but live together, what does it signify at what
price, or by what means, their union is accomplished. Where love is
real, and, well founded, it is impossible to be happy but in the
quiet enjoyment of the beloved object; and the price at which it is
obtained, does not lessen the vivacity and delights of a passion,
such as my imagination conceives. If I was inclined to romance, I
would not picture images of true happiness in Arcadia. I am not
prudish enough to confine the delicacy of affection to wishes only.
I would open my romance with the marriage of a couple united by
sentiment, taste, and inclination. Can we conceive a higher
felicity, than the blending of their interests and lives in such an
union? The lover has the pleasure of giving his mistress the last
testimony of esteem and confidence; and she, in return, commits her
peace and liberty to his protection. Can they exchange more dear and
affectionate pledges? Is it not natural, to give the most
incontestible proofs of that tenderness with which our minds are
impressed? I am sensible, that some are so nice as to maintain, that
the pleasures of love are derived from the dangers and difficulties
with which it is attended; they very pertly observe, that a rose
would not be a rose without thorns. There are a thousand insipid
remarks of this sort, which make so little impression on me, that I
am persuaded, was I a lover, the dread of injuring my mistress would
make me unhappy, if the enjoyment of her was attended with danger to
herself.

TWO married lovers lead very different lives: They have the pleasure
to pass their time in a successive intercourse of mutual obligations
and marks of benevolence; and they have the delight to find, that
each forms the entire happiness of the beloved object. Herein
consists perfect felicity. The most trivial concerns of economy
become noble and elegant, when they are exalted by sentiments of
affection: To furnish an apartment, is not barely to furnish an
apartment; it is a place where I expect my lover: To prepare a
supper, is not merely giving orders to my cook; it is an amusement to
regale the object I dote on. In this light, a woman considers these
necessary occupations, as more lively and affecting pleasures than
those gaudy sights which amuse the greater part of the sex, who are
incapable of true enjoyment.

A FI