Your affectionate
Emily Rivers.
LETTER CCI.205.
To Captain Fitzgerald.
Bellfield, Oct. 24.
Some author has said, “The happiness of the next world, to the virtuous, will consist in enjoying the society of minds like their own.”
Why then should we not do our best to possess as much as possible of this happiness here?
You will see this is a preface to a very earnest request to see Captain FermorFitzgerald and the lovely Bell immediately at our farm: take notice, I will not admit even business as an excuse much longer.
I am just come from a walk in the wood behind the house, with my mother and Emily; I want you to see it before it loses all its charms; in another fortnight, its present variegated foliage will be literally humbled in the dust.
There is something very pleasing in this season, if it did not give us the idea of the winter, which is approaching too fast.
The dryness of the air, the soft western breeze, the tremulous motion of the falling leaves, the rustling of those already fallen under our feet, their variety of lively colors, give a certain spirit and agreable fluctuation to the scene, which is unspeakably pleasing.