Adieu! say every thing for me to my sweet friends, if arrived.

7th, Eleven o’clock.

I have this moment a large packet of letters for Emily from Mrs. Melmoth, which I intend to take the care of myself, as I hope to be in England almost as soon as this.

    Good morrow! 
      Yours ever, &c. 
          A. Fitzgerald.

Three o’clock.

I am just come from visiting the nuns; they expressed great concern at my leaving Canada, and promised me their prayers on my voyage; for which proof of affection, though a good protestant, I thanked them very sincerely.

I wished exceedingly to have brought some of them away with me; my nun, as they call the amiable girl I saw take the veil, paid me the flattering tribute of a tear at parting; her fine eyes had a concern in them, which affected me extremely.

I was not less pleased with the affection the late superior, my good old countrywoman, expressed for me, and her regret at seeing me for the last time.

Surely there is no pleasure on earth equal to that of being beloved!  I did not think I had been such a favorite in Canada:  it is almost a pity to leave it; perhaps nobody may love me in England.

Yes, I believe Fitzgerald will; and I have a pretty party enough of friends in your family.

Adieu!  I shall write a line the day we embark, by another ship, which may possibly arrive before us.

LETTER 171.

To Mrs. Temple, Pall Mall.

Silleri, Aug. 11.

We embark to-morrow, and hope to see you in less than a month, if this fine wind continues.

I am just come from Montmorenci, where I have been paying my devotions to the tutelary deities of the place for the last time.

I had only Fitzgerald with me; we visited every grotto on the lovely banks, where we dined; kissed every flower, raised a votive altar on the little island, poured a libation of wine to the river goddess; and, in short, did every thing which it became good heathens to do.

We stayed till day-light began to decline, which, with the idea of the last time, threw round us a certain melancholy solemnity; a solemnity which

  “Deepen’d the murmur of the falling floods,
  And breath’d a browner horror on the woods.”

I have twenty things to do, and but a moment to do them in.  Adieu!

I am called down; it is to Madame Des Roches:  she is very obliging to come thus far to see me.

12th.

We go on board at one; Madame Des Roches goes down with us as far as her estate, where her boat is to fetch her on shore.  She has made me a present of a pair of extreme pretty bracelets; has sent your brother an elegant sword-knot, and Emily a very beautiful cross of diamonds.

I don’t believe she would be sorry if we were to run away with her to England:  I protest I am half inclined; it is pity such a woman should be hid all her life in the woods of Canada:  besides, one might convert her you know; and, on a religious principle, a little deviation from rules is allowable.