We had a very tumultuous head-sea a great part of the voyage, though the wind was fair; a certain sign there had been stormy weather, with a contrary wind.  I fancied my Emily exposed to those storms; there is no expressing what I suffered from this circumstance.

On entering the channel of England, we saw an empty boat, and some pieces of a wreck floating; I fancied it part of the ship which conveyed my lovely Emily; a sudden chillness seized my whole frame, my heart died within me at the sight:  I had scarce courage, when I landed, to enquire whether she was arrived.

I asked the question with a trembling voice, and had the transport to find the ship had passed by, and to hear the person of my Emily described amongst the passengers who landed; it was not easy to mistake her.

I hope to see her this evening:  what do I not feel from that dear hope!

Chance gives me an opportunity of forwarding this by New York; I write whilst my chaise is getting ready.

      Adieu! yours,
          Ed. Rivers.

I shall write to my dear little Bell as soon as I get to town.  There is no describing what I felt at first seeing the coast of England:  I saw the white cliffs with a transport mixed with veneration; a transport, which, however, was checked by my fears for the dearer part of myself.

My chaise is at the door.

    Adieu! 
      Your faithful, &c. 
          Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 164.

To Miss Fermor, at Silleri.

Rochester, July 24.

I am obliged to wait ten minutes for a Canadian gentleman who is with me, and has some letters to deliver here:  how painful is this delay!  But I cannot leave a stranger alone on the road, though I lose so many minutes with my charming Emily.

To soften this moment as much as possible, I will begin a letter to my dear Bell:  our sweet Emily is safe; I wrote to Captain Fermor this morning.

My heart is gay beyond words:  my fellow-traveller is astonished at the beauty and riches of England, from what he has seen of Kent:  for my part, I point out every fine prospect, and am so proud of my country, that my whole soul seems to be dilated; for which perhaps there are other reasons.  The day is fine, the numerous herds and flocks on the side of the hills, the neatness of the houses, of the people, the appearance of plenty; all exhibit a scene which must strike one who has been used only to the wild graces of nature.

Canada has beauties; but they are of another kind.

This unreasonable man; he has no mistress to see in London; he is not expected by the most amiable of mothers, by a family he loves as I do mine.

I will order another chaise, and leave my servant to attend him.

He comes.  Adieu! my dear little Bell! at this moment a gentleman is come into the inn, who is going to embark at Dover for New York; I will send this by him.  Once more adieu!