. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I
had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from my
dear Musgrove.

Sackville St: Janry 7th It is a month to day since I first beheld my
lovely Henrietta, and the sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in
a manner becoming the day--by writing to her. Never shall I forget the
moment when her Beauties first broke on my sight--No time as you well
know can erase it from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady
Scudamore to live within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely
Creature first entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight
of you was like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started--I gazed
at her with admiration--She appeared every moment more Charming, and the
unfortunate Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time
to look about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an
happiness for which I cannot be too grateful. "What said he to himself
is Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he
pine for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored
by a Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful
you are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal.
You are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the
prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life--and her Beauty is encreased in her
Musgroves Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope.
And ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do
hope for the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since
my fair one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed
her in affluence above what my fortune can procure--. Though it is an
improvable Estate--. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I
am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house
which tho' an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is
ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell--Of that
Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and
devoted humble servt. T. Musgrove.

There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such
a master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of
Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet?
No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with
by every Girl. Oh