LET. XVIII.

TO THE LADY R----.

_Hanover, Oct_. 1. O. S. 1716.

I AM very glad, my dear lady R----, that you have been so well
pleased, as you tell me, at the report of my returning to England;
though, like other pleasures, I can assure you it has no real
foundation. I hope you know me enough to take my word against any
report concerning me. 'Tis true, as to distance of place, I am much
nearer to London than I was some weeks ago; but, as to the thoughts
of a return, I never was farther off in my life. I own, I could with
great joy indulge the pleasing hopes of seeing you, and the very few
others that share my esteem; but while Mr W---- is determined to
proceed in his design, I am determined to follow him. I am running
on upon my own affairs, that is to say, I am going to write very
dully, as most people do when they write of themselves. I will make
haste to change the disagreeable subject, by telling you, that I am
now got into the region of beauty. All the women have (literally)
rosy cheeks, snowy foreheads and bosoms, jet eye-brows, and scarlet
lips, to which they generally add coal-black hair. Those perfections
never leave them, till the hour of their deaths, and have a very fine
effect by candle light; but I could wish they were handsome with a
little more variety. They resemble one another as much as Mrs
Salmon's court of Great Britain, and are in as much danger of melting
away, by too near approaching the fire, which they for that reason
carefully avoid, though 'tis now such excessive cold weather, that I
believe they suffer extremely by that piece of self-denial. The snow
is already very deep, and the people begin to slide about in their