We live now in a kind of continual dissipation; our instruments, our drawings, our books, all are packed up and ready to be sent on board. We are perpetually in motion, we eat, drink, sleep and visit like those people who have nothing to do, and try to kill time because they do not know how to employ it; what a miserable life must such beings lead! Shall I tell you, that the thoughts of taking leave of my native country is very painful to me; I must confess my weakness, dear Emilia; though I ardently long to be in London, I feel the most lively concern. Your brother commends this weakness. It is natural, he says, and, in his opinion, we should be very unfeeling, if we could leave the country, where we have been born and educated, without being affected. Yesterday we paid a visit to Mr. Landbergen; his son still behaves with the greatest propriety; and, as the tender father considers your brother as the instrument of his darling’s reformation, his countenance is always lighted up with joy at our approach. When we entered he introduced a French gentleman to us, who appeared by his dress and manners to be in reduced circumstances. There was an appearance of mildness and good-nature in his face that instantly interested us. I have frequently felt myself thus attached in a moment to a person who had a mild and benevolent countenance. Mr. Landbergen desired his son to shew us two landscapes drawn by the gentleman, in whose favour we were so instantly interested, which were really very beautiful. We could not forbear bestowing the praises on them they so justly merited; and I felt a little vexed with myself when I recollected how very inferior mine were. The young painter very modestly received our praises, and soon after left the room. We then again viewed the landscapes, and Charles remarked that he had very pleasing manners, and very much the air of a gentleman. Yes, said Mr. Landbergen, he is a good young man and a gentleman, though an unfortunate one. He received a very liberal education, but the loss of his parents and some other misfortunes, obliged him to exert his talents in order to earn a subsistence. CHARLES. I pity any one who loses their parents early in life; for they are our dearest and most faithful friends. LANDBERGEN. He has been here some months, and has not met with all the encouragement he deserves; his modesty prevents him from pushing himself forwards, or taking those methods that many of inferior abilities practise to obtain the name of able artists. He wishes to sell those two pictures, and, to spare him the disagreeable task of offering them to sale himself, I desired him to leave them here. CHARLES. What does he ask for them? LANDBERGEN. Thirty guilders. CHARLES. He undervalues them; that is too little. LANDBERGEN.