I am extremely obliged to you, my dear Fermor, for having introduced me to a very amiable man, in your friend Colonel Rivers. I begin to be so sensible I am an old fellow, that I feel a very lively degree of gratitude to the young ones who visit me; and look on every agreable new acquaintance under thirty as an acquisition I had no right to expect. You know I have always thought personal advantages of much more real value than accidental ones; and that those who possessed the former had much the greatest right to be proud. Youth, health, beauty, understanding, are substantial goods; wealth and title comparatively ideal ones; I therefore think a young man who condescends to visit an old one, the healthy who visit the sick, the man of sense who spends his time with a fool, and even a handsome fellow with an ugly one, are the persons who confer the favor, whatever difference there may be in rank or fortune. Colonel Rivers did me the honor to spend a day with me here, and I have not often lately passed a pleasanter one: the desire I had not to discredit your partial recommendation, and my very strong inclinations to seduce him to come again, made me intirely discard the old man; and I believe your friend will tell you the hours did not pass on leaden wings. I expect you, with Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald, to pass some time with me at Richmond. I have the best claret in the universe, and as lively a relish for it as at five and twenty. Adieu! Your affectionate H---- LETTER 185. To Colonel Rivers, at Bellfield, Rutland. Rose-hill, Sept. 18. Since I sent away my letter, I have your last. You tell me, my dear Rivers, the strong emotion I betrayed at seeing Sir George, when you came together to Montreal, made you fear I loved him; that you were jealous of the blush which glowed on my cheek, when he entered the room: that you still remember it with regret; that you still fancy I had once some degree of tenderness for him, and beg me to account for the apparent confusion I betrayed at his sight. I own that emotion; my confusion was indeed too great to be concealed: but was he alone, my Rivers? can you forget that he had with him the most lovely of mankind? Sir George was handsome; I have often regarded his person with admiration, but it was the admiration we give to a statue. I listened coldly to his love, I felt no emotion at his sight; but when you appeared, my heart beat, I blushed, I turned pale by turns, my eyes assumed a new softness, I trembled, and every pulse confessed the master of my soul. My friends are come: I am called down. Adieu! Be assured your Emily never breathed a sigh but for her Rivers! Adieu! Yours, Emily Montague. LETTER 186. To Colonel Rivers, at Bellfield, Rutland. London, Sept. 18. I have this moment your letter; we are setting out in ten minutes for Rose-hill, where I will finish this, and hope to give you a pleasing account of your Emily.