I was hospitably entertained by the cures all the way down, tho’ they are in general but ill provided for:  the parochial clergy are useful every where, but I have a great aversion to monks, those drones in the political hive, whose whole study seems to be to make themselves as useless to the world as possible.  Think too of the shocking indelicacy of many of them, who make it a point of religion to abjure linen, and wear their habits till they drop off.  How astonishing that any mind should suppose the Deity an enemy to cleanliness! the Jewish religion was hardly any thing else.

I paid my respects wherever I stopped, to the seigneuress of the village; for as to the seigneurs, except two or three, if they had not wives, they would not be worth visiting.

I am every day more pleased with the women here; and, if I was gallant, should be in danger of being a convert to the French stile of gallantry; which certainly debases the mind much less than ours.

But what is all this to my Emily?  How I envy Sir George! what happiness has Heaven prepared for him, if he has a soul to taste it!

I really must not think of her; I found so much delight in her conversation, it was quite time to come away; I am almost ashamed to own how much difficulty I found in leaving her:  do you know I have scarce slept since?  This is absurd, but I cannot help it; which by the way is an admirable excuse for any thing.

I have been come but two hours, and am going to Silleri, to pay my compliments to your friend Miss Fermor, who arrived with her father, who comes to join his regiment, since I left Quebec.  I hear there has been a very fine importation of English ladies during my absence.  I am sorry I have not time to visit the rest, but I go to-morrow morning to the Indian village for a fortnight, and have several letters to write to-night.

  Adieu!  I am interrupted,
      Yours,
          Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 9.

To Mrs. Melmoth, at Montreal.

Quebec, August 24.

I cannot, Madam, express my obligation to you for having added a postscript to Major Melmoth’s letter:  I am sure he will excuse my answering the whole to you; if not, I beg he may know that I shall be very pert about it, being much more solicitous to please you than him, for a thousand reasons too tedious to mention.

I thought you had more penetration than to suppose me indifferent:  on the contrary, sensibility is my fault; though it is not your little every-day beauties who can excite it:  I have admirable dispositions to love, though I am hard to please:  in short, I am not cruel, I am only nice:  do but you, or your divine friend, give me leave to wear your chains, and you shall soon be convinced I can love like an angel, when I set in earnest about it.  But, alas! you are married, and in love with your husband; and your friend is in a situation still more unfavorable to a lover’s hopes.  This is particularly unfortunate, as you are the only two of your bewitching sex in Canada, for whom my heart feels the least sympathy.  To be plain, but don’t tell the little Major, I am more than half in love with you both, and, if I was the grand Turk, should certainly fit out a fleet, to seize, and bring you to my seraglio.