I write to you, from the most agreeable place, perhaps, in nature: From my window I have a view of woods, waters, meadows, the most beautiful landscape imaginable: Every thing expresses calmness, and tranquillity: This smiling abode, is an image of the soft peace, which reigns in the soul of the sage who inhabits it. This amiable dwelling carries one insensibly to reflect; to retire into one's self; but one cannot at all times relish this kind of retreat; one may find in the recesses of the heart, more importunate pursuers than those from whom solitude delivers us.

Lord Danby received us perfectly well; could one imagine a man like him would not think retirement a misfortune? It is rare, very rare, my dear, that persons born in a high rank, educated in the hurry of the world, in the toilsome inactivity of a court, can find in themselves the resources against lassitude. The remembrance of the past, often offers nothing to their view but a chain of follies and weaknesses, which seen in cold blood, appear in their true colour. One must have all my Lord Danby's virtues, to find the examination of one's own heart a pleasing employment.

I have found out, that Sir Harry is as curious as he is attentive: He stopped our women an hour, to ask a thousand questions of Betty: He has remarked the sighs that escape me, he fancies there is a secret in one of my boxes, he has offered her ten guineas to assure him of it. He is astonished that I write to you every day; he cannot conceive the reason of so regular a correspondence. Is it really to you I write? What think you of these impertinent enquiries? they cost me twelve guineas, for I fancy I ought to reward Betty's fidelity, for fear, upon reflection, she should repent of it.