I have been hurt at the contrary behaviour in Temple; and have observed Lucy to be so too, though her excessive attention not to give him pain prevented her shewing it: I have on such an occasion seen a smile on her countenance, and a tear of tender regret starting into her eyes.
A woman who has vanity without affection will be pleased to hear of your past conquests, and regard them as victims immolated to her superior charms: to her, therefore, it is right to talk of them; but to flatter the heart, and give delight to a woman who truly loves, you should appear too much taken up with the present passion to look back to the past: you should not even present to her imagination the thought that you have had other engagements: we know such things are, but had rather the idea should not be awakened: I may be wrong, but I speak from my own feelings.
I am excessively pleased with a thought I met with in a little French novel:
“Un homme qui ne peut plus compter ses bonnes fortunes, est de tous, celui qui connoît le moins les faveurs. C’est le coeur qui les accorde, & ce n’est pas le coeur qu’un homme à la mode interesse. Plus on est prôné par les femmes, plus il est facile de les avoir, mais moins il est possible de les enflammer.”
To which truth I most heartily set my hand.
Twelve o’clock.
I have just heard from your sister, who tells me, Emily is turned a little natural philosopher, reads Ray, Derham, and fifty other strange old fellows that one never heard of, and is eternally poring through a microscope to discover the wonders of creation.
How amazingly learned matrimony makes young ladies! I suppose we shall have a volume of her discoveries bye and bye.
She says too, you have little pets like sweethearts, quarrel and make it up again in the most engaging manner in the world.
This is just what I want to bring Fitzgerald to; but the perverse monkey won’t quarrel with me, do all I can: I am sure this is not my fault, for I give him reason every day of his life.