I shall, however, for decency's sake, ask his opinion on the affairas soon as I have taken my resolution; which is the very time at whichall the world ask advice of their friends.
A letter from Emily, which I must answer: she is extremely absurd,which your tender lovers always are.
Adieu! yours, A. Fermor.
Sir George Clayton had left Montreal some days before your brotherarrived there; I was pleased to hear it, because, with all yourbrother's good sense, and concern for Emily's honor, and Sir George'snatural coldness of temper, a quarrel between them would have beenrather difficult to have been avoided.
LETTER 120.
To Miss Fermor.
Quebec, Thursday morning.
Do you think, my dear, that Madame Des Roches has heard from Rivers?I wish you would ask her this afternoon at the governor's: I amanxious to know, but ashamed to enquire.
Not, my dear, that I have the weakness to be jealous; but I shallthink his letter to me a higher compliment, if I know he writes tonobody else. I extremely approve his friendship for Madame Des Roches;she is very amiable, and certainly deserves it: but you know, Bell, itwould be cruel to encourage an affection, which she must conquer, or beunhappy: if she did not love him, there would be nothing wrong in hiswriting to her; but, as she does, it would be doing her the greatestinjury possible: 'tis as much on her account as my own I am thusanxious.
Did you ever read so tender, yet so lively a letter as Rivers's tome? he is alike in all: there is in his letters, as in hisconversation,
"All that can softly win, or gaily charm The heart of woman."
Even strangers listen to him with an involuntary attention, and hearhim with a pleasure for which they scarce know how to account.
He charms even without intending it, and in spite of himself; butwhen he wishes to please, when he addresses the woman he loves, whenhis eyes speak the soft language of his heart, when your Emily readsin them the dear confession of his tenderness, when that melodiousvoice utters the sentiments of the noblest mind that ever animated ahuman form--My dearest, the eloquence of angels cannot paint my Riversas he is.
I am almost inclined not to go to the governor's to-night; I amdetermined not to dance till Rivers returns, and I know there are toomany who will be ready to make observations on my refusal: I think Iwill stay at home, and write to him against Monday's post: I have athousand things to say, and you know we are continually interrupted atQuebec; I shall have this evening to myself, as all the world will beat the governor's.
Adieu, your faithful Emily Montague.
LETTER 121.
To Miss Montague, at Quebec.
Silleri, Thursday morning.
I dare say, my dear, Madame Des Roches has not heard from Rivers;but suppose she had. If he loves you, of what consequence is it to whomhe writes? I would not for the world any friend of yours should ask hersuch a question.
I shall call upon you at six o'clock, and shall expect to find youdetermined to go to the governor's this evening, and to dance:Fitzgerald begs the honor of being your partner.
Believe me, Emily, these kind of unmeaning sacrifices are childish;your heart is new to love, and you have all the romance of a girl:Rivers would, on your account, be hurt to hear you had refused to dancein his absence, though he might be flattered to know you had for amoment entertained such an idea.
I pardon you for having the romantic fancies of seventeen, providedyou correct them with the good sense of four and twenty.
Adieu! I have engaged myself to Colonel H----, on the presumptionthat you are too polite to refuse to dance with Fitzgerald, and tooprudent to refuse to dance at all.
Your affectionate A. Fermor.
LETTER 122.
To Miss Fermor, at Silleri.
Quebec, Saturday morning.
How unjust have I been in my hatred of Madame Des Roches! she spentyesterday with us, and after dinner desired to converse with me an hourin my apartment, where she opened to me all her heart on the subject ofher love for Rivers.
She is the noblest and most amiable of women, and I have been inregard to her the most capricious and unjust: my hatred of her wasunworthy my character; I blush to own the meanness of my sentiments,whilst I admire the generosity of hers.
Why, my dear, should I have hated her? she was unhappy, and deservedrather my compassion: I had deprived her of all hope of being beloved,it was too much to wish to deprive her also of his conversation. Iknew myself the only object of Rivers's love; why then should I haveenvied her his friendship? she had the strongest reason to hate me, butI should have loved and pitied her.
Can there be a misfortune equal to that of loving Rivers withouthope of a return? Yet she has not only born this misfortune withoutcomplaint, but has been the confidante of his passion for another; heowned to her all his tenderness for me, and drew a picture of me,which, she told me, ought, had she listened to reason, to havedestroyed even the shadow of hope: but that love, ever ready to flatterand deceive, had betrayed her into the weakness of supposing itpossible I might refuse him, and that gratitude might, in that case,touch his heart with tenderness for one who loved him with the mostpure and disinterested affection; that her journey to Quebec hadremoved the veil love had placed between her and truth; that she wasnow convinced the faint hope she had encouraged was madness, and thatour souls were formed for each other.
She owned she still loved him with the most lively affection; yetassured me, since she was not allowed to make the most amiable ofmankind happy herself, she wished him to be so with the woman on earthshe thought most worthy of him.
She added, that she had on first seeing me, though she thought meworthy his heart, felt an impulse of dislike which she was ashamed toown, even now that reason and reflexion had conquered so unworthy asentiment; that Rivers's complaisance had a little dissipated herchagrin, and enabled her to behave to me in the manner she did: thatshe had, however, almost hated me at the ball in the country: that thetenderness in Rivers's eyes that day whenever they met mine, and hiscomparative inattention to her, had wounded her to the soul.
That this preference had, however, been salutary, though painful;since it had determined her to conquer a passion, which could only makeher life wretched if it continued; that, as the first step to thisconquest, she had resolved to see him no more: that she would return toher house the moment she could cross the river with safety; andconjured me, for her sake, to persuade him to give up all thoughts of asettlement near her; that she could not answer for her own heart if shecontinued to see him; that she believed in love there was no safety butin flight.
That his absence had given her time to think coolly; and that shenow saw so strongly the amiableness of my character, and was soconvinced of my perfect tenderness for him, that she should hateherself were she capable of wishing to interrupt our happiness.
That she hoped I would pardon her retaining a tender remembrance ofa man who, had he never seen me, might have returned her affection;that she thought so highly of my heart, as to believe I could not hatea woman who esteemed me, and who solicited my friendship, though ahappy rival.
I was touched, even to tears, at her behaviour: we embraced; and, ifI know my own weak foolish heart, I love her.
She talks of leaving Quebec before Rivers's return; she said, hercoming was an imprudence which only love could excuse; and that shehad no motive for her journey but the desire of seeing him, which wasso lively as to hurry her into an indiscretion of which she was afraidthe world took but too much notice. What openness, what sincerity, whatgenerosity, was there in all she said!
How superior, my dear, is her character to mine! I blush for myselfon the comparison; I am shocked to see how much she soars above me:how is it possible Rivers should not have preferred her to me? Yet thisis the woman I fancied incapable of any passion but vanity.
I am sure, my dear Bell, I am not naturally envious of the merit ofothers; but my excess of love for Rivers makes me apprehensive
ofevery woman who can possibly rival me in his tenderness.
I was hurt at Madame Des Roches's uncommon merit; I saw with painthe amiable qualities of her mind; I could scarce even allow her personto be pleasing: but this injustice is not that of my natural temper,but of love.
She is certainly right, my dear, to see him no more; I applaud, Iadmire her resolution: do you think, however, she would pursue it ifshe loved as I do? she has perhaps loved before, and her heart has lostsomething of its native trembling sensibility.
I wish my heart felt her merit as strongly as my reason: I esteem, Iadmire, I even love her at present; but I am convinced Rivers's returnwhile she continues here would weaken these sentiments of affection:the least appearance of preference, even for a moment, would make merelapse into my former weakness. I adore, I idolize her character; butI cannot sincerely wish to cultivate her friendship.
Let me see you this afternoon at Quebec; I am told the roads willnot be passable for carrioles above three days longer: let me thereforesee you as often as I can before we are absolutely shut from eachother.
Adieu! my dear! Your faithful Emily Montague.
LETTER 123.
To the Earl of ----.
Silleri, April 14.
England, however populous, is undoubtedly, my Lord, too small toafford very large supplies of people to her colonies: and her peopleare also too useful, and of too much value, to be suffered to emigrate,if they can be prevented, whilst there is sufficient employment forthem at home.
It is not only our interest to have colonies; they are not onlynecessary to our commerce, and our greatest and surest sources ofwealth, but our very being as a powerful commercial nation depends onthem: it is therefore an object of all others most worthy ourattention, that they should be as flourishing and populous aspossible.
It is however equally our interest to support them at as littleexpence of our own inhabitants as possible: I therefore look on theacquisition of such a number of subjects as we found in Canada, to be amuch superior advantage to that of gaining ten times the immense tractof land ceded to us, if uncultivated and destitute of inhabitants.
But it is not only contrary to our interest to spare many of our ownpeople as settlers in America; it must also be considered, that, if wecould spare them, the English are the worst settlers on new lands inthe universe.
Their attachment to their native country, especially amongst thelower ranks of people, is so very strong, that few of the honest andindustrious can be prevailed on to leave it; those therefore who go,are generally the dissolute and the idle, who are of no use any where.
The English are also, though industrious, active, and enterprizing,ill fitted to bear the hardships, and submit to the wants, whichinevitably attend an infant settlement even on the most fruitful lands.
The Germans, on the contrary, with the same useful qualities, have apatience, a perseverance, an abstinence, which peculiarly fit them forthe cultivation of new countries; too great encouragement thereforecannot be given to them to settle in our colonies: they make bettersettlers than our own people; and at the same time their numbers are anacquisition of real strength where they fix, without weakening themother country.
It is long since the populousness of Europe has been the cause ofher sending out colonies: a better policy prevails; mankind areenlightened; we are now convinced, both by reason and experience, thatno industrious people can be too populous.
The northern swarms were compelled to leave their respectivecountries, not because those countries were unable to support them, butbecause they were too idle to cultivate the ground: they were aferocious, ignorant, barbarous people, averse to labor, attached towar, and, like our American savages, believing every employment notrelative to this favorite object, beneath the dignity of man.
Their emigrations therefore were less owing to their populousness,than to their want of industry, and barbarous contempt of agricultureand every useful art.
It is with pain I am compelled to say, the late spirit ofencouraging the monopoly of farms, which, from a narrow short-sightedpolicy, prevails amongst our landed men at home, and the alarminggrowth of celibacy amongst the peasantry which is its necessaryconsequence, to say nothing of the same ruinous increase of celibacy inhigher ranks, threaten us with such a decrease of population, as willprobably equal that caused by the ravages of those scourges of heaven,the sword, the famine, and the pestilence.
If this selfish policy continues to extend itself, we shall in a fewyears be so far from being able to send emigrants to America, that weshall be reduced to solicit their return, and that of their posterity,to prevent England's becoming in its turn an uncultivated desart.
But to return to Canada; this large acquisition of people is aninvaluable treasure, if managed, as I doubt not it will be, to the bestadvantage; if they are won by the gentle arts of persuasion, and thegradual progress of knowledge, to adopt so much of our manners as tendsto make them happier in themselves, and more useful members of thesociety to which they belong: if with our language, which they shouldby every means be induced to learn, they acquire the mild genius of ourreligion and laws, and that spirit of industry, enterprize, andcommerce, to which we owe all our greatness.
Amongst the various causes which concur to render France morepopulous than England, notwithstanding the disadvantage of a lessgentle government, and a religion so very unfavorable to the increaseof mankind, the cultivation of vineyards may be reckoned a principalone; as it employs a much greater number of hands than even agricultureitself, which has however infinite advantages in this respect abovepasturage, the certain cause of a want of people wherever it prevailsabove its due proportion.
Our climate denies us the advantages arising from the culture ofvines, as well as many others which nature has accorded to France; aconsideration which should awaken us from the lethargy into which theavarice of individuals has plunged us, and set us in earnest onimproving every advantage we enjoy, in order to secure us by our nativestrength from so formidable a rival.
The want of bread to eat, from the late false and cruel policy oflaying small farms into great ones, and the general discouragement oftillage which is its consequence, is in my opinion much less to beapprehended than the want of people to eat it.
In every country where the inhabitants are at once numerous andindustrious, there will always be a proportionable cultivation.
This evil is so very destructive and alarming, that, if the greathave not virtue enough to remedy it, it is to be hoped it will in time,like most great evils, cure itself.
Your Lordship enquires into the nature of this climate in respect tohealth. The air being uncommonly pure and serene, it is favorable tolife beyond any I ever knew: the people live generally to a veryadvanced age; and are remarkably free from diseases of every kind,except consumptions, to which the younger part of the inhabitants are agood deal subject.
It is however a circumstance one cannot help observing, that theybegin to look old much sooner than the people in Europe; on which mydaughter observes, that it is not very pleasant for women to come toreside in a country where people have a short youth, and a long oldage.
The diseases of cold countries are in general owing to want ofperspiration; for which reason exercise, and even dissipation, are herethe best medicines.
The Indians therefore shewed their good sense in advising theFrench, on their first arrival, to use dancing, mirth, chearfulness,and content, as the best remedies against the inconveniences of theclimate.
I have already swelled this letter to such a length, that I mustpostpone to another time my account of the peculiar naturalproductions of Canada; only observing, that one would imagine heavenintended a social intercourse between the most distant nations, bygiving them productions of the earth so very different each from theother, and each more than sufficient for itself, that the exchangemight be the means of spreading the bond of society and brotherhoodover the whole globe.
In my opinion, the man who conveys
, and causes to grow, in anycountry, a grain, a fruit, or even a flower, it never possessed before,deserves more praise than a thousand heroes: he is a benefactor, he isin some degree a creator.
I have the honor to be, My Lord, Your Lordship's &c. William Fermor.
LETTER 124.
To Miss Montague, at Quebec.
Montreal, April 14.
Is it possible, my dear Emily, you can, after all I have said,persist in endeavoring to disswade me from a design on which my wholehappiness depends, and which I flattered myself was equally essentialto yours? I forgave, I even admired, your first scruple; I thought itgenerosity: but I have answered it; and if you had loved as I do, youwould never again have named so unpleasing a subject.
Does your own heart tell you mine will call a settlement here, withyou, an exile? Examine yourself well, and tell me whether youraversion to staying in Canada is not stronger than your tenderness foryour Rivers.
I am hurt beyond all words at the earnestness with which you pressMrs. Melmoth to disswade me from staying in this country: you presswith warmth my return to England, though it would put an eternal barbetween us: you give reasons which, though the understanding mayapprove, the heart abhors: can ambition come in competition withtenderness? you fancy yourself generous, when you are only indifferent.Insensible girl! you know nothing of love.
Write to me instantly, and tell me every emotion of your soul, for Itremble at the idea that your affection is less lively than mine.