LETTERXLVII.TO MISS C——.
August 15, 1777.
I WAITED, in hopes that time or chance might furnish me with something to fill a sheet, with better than the praises of an old man.—What has youth and beauty to do with the squabbling contentions of mad ambition?—Could I new-model Nature—your sex should rule supreme:—there should be no other ambition but that ofpleasing the ladies—no other welfare but the contention of obsequious lovers—nor any glory but the bliss of being approved by the Fair.—Now, confess that this epistle opens very gallant, and allow this to be a decent return to one of the best and most sensible letters that L—— Wells has produced this century past.—I much wish for the pleasing hopes raised by your obliging letter—that my good friend’s health is restored so fully, that she has by this time forgot what the pains in the stomach mean,—that she has sent all her complaints to the lake of Lethe—and is thinking soon to enliven our part our world, enriched with health—spirits—and a certain bewitching benignity of countenance—which cries out—‘Dislike me if you can!’—I want to know what conquests you have made—what savages converted—whom you have smiled into felicity, or killed by rejection;—and how the noble Master of Ceremonies acquits himself, John S—— Esq; I mean.—I hear my friend R—— will be in town this week, to my great comfort;—for, upon my conscience, excepting my family, thetown to me is quite empty.—Mrs. R—— is gone to Bury—and the good man is toiling a lonely and forlorne object.—Mrs. Sancho joins in every good and grateful wish for your amiable friend, with, dear Miss C——, your obliged friend and humble servant,
I. SANCHO.