Yours, A. Fermor.
LETTER 41.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Nov. 10.
The savages assure us, my dear, on the information of the beavers,that we shall have a very mild winter: it seems, these creatures havelaid in a less winter stock than usual. I take it very ill, Lucy, thatthe beavers have better intelligence than we have.
We are got into a pretty composed easy way; Sir George writes veryagreable, sensible, sentimental, gossiping letters, once a fortnight,which Emily answers in due course, with all the regularity of acounting-house correspondence; he talks of coming down after Christmas:we expect him without impatience; and in the mean time amuse ourselvesas well as we can, and soften the pain of absence by the attention ofa man that I fancy we like quite as well.
With submission to the beavers, the weather is very cold, and wehave had a great deal of snow already; but they tell me 'tis nothing towhat we shall have: they are taking precautions which make me shudderbeforehand, pasting up the windows, and not leaving an avenue wherecold can enter.
I like the winter carriages immensely; the open carriole is a kindof one-horse chaise, the covered one a chariot, set on a sledge to runon the ice; we have not yet had snow enough to use them, but I liketheir appearance prodigiously; the covered carrioles seem the prettiestthings in nature to make love in, as there are curtains to draw beforethe windows: we shall have three in effect, my father's, Rivers's, andFitzgerald's; the two latter are to be elegance itself, and entirelyfor the service of the ladies: your brother and Fitzgerald are tryingwho shall be ruined first for the honor of their country. I will betthree to one upon Ireland. They are every day contriving parties ofpleasure, and making the most gallant little presents imaginable to theladies.
Adieu! my dear.
Yours, A. Fermor.
LETTER 42.
To Miss Rivers.
Quebec, Nov. 14.
I shall not, my dear, have above one more opportunity of writing toyou by the ships; after which we can only write by the packet once amonth.
My Emily is every day more lovely; I see her often, and every hourdiscover new charms in her; she has an exalted understanding, improvedby all the knowledge which is becoming in your sex; a soul awake to allthe finer sensations of the heart, checked and adorned by the nativegentleness of woman: she is extremely handsome, but she would pleaseevery feeling heart if she was not; she has the soul of beauty: withoutfeminine softness and delicate sensibility, no features can giveloveliness; with them, very indifferent ones can charm: thatsensibility, that softness, never were so lovely as in my Emily. I canwrite on no other subject. Were you to see her, my Lucy, you wouldforgive me. My letter is called for. Adieu!
Yours, Ed. Rivers.
Your friend Miss Fermor will write you every thing.
LETTER 43.
To Miss Montague, at Silleri.
Montreal, Nov. 14.
Mr. Melmoth and I, my dear Emily, expected by this time to have seenyou at Montreal. I allow something to your friendship for Miss Fermor;but there is also something due to relations who tenderly love you, andunder whose protection your uncle left you at his death.
I should add, that there is something due to Sir George, had I notalready displeased you by what I have said on the subject.
You are not to be told, that in a week the road from hence to Quebecwill be impassable for at least a month, till the rivers aresufficiently froze to bear carriages.
I will own to you, that I am a little jealous of your attachment toMiss Fermor, though no one can think her more amiable than I do.
If you do not come this week, I would wish you to stay till SirGeorge comes down, and return with him; I will entreat the favor ofMiss Fermor to accompany you to Montreal, which we will endeavour tomake as agreable to her as we can.
I have been ill of a slight fever, but am now perfectly recovered.Sir George and Mr. Melmoth are well, and very impatient to see youhere.
Adieu! my dear. Your affectionate E. Melmoth.
LETTER 44.
To Mrs. Melmoth, at Montreal.
Silleri, Nov. 20.
I have a thousand reasons, my dearest Madam, for intreating you toexcuse my staying some time longer at Quebec. I have the sincerestesteem for Sir George, and am not insensible of the force of ourengagements; but do not think his being there a reason for my coming:the kind of suspended state, to say no more, in which those engagementsnow are, call for a delicacy in my behaviour to him, which is sodifficult to observe without the appearance of affectation, that hisabsence relieves me from a very painful kind of restraint: for the samereason, 'tis impossible for me to come up at the time he does, if I docome, even though Miss Fermor should accompany me.
A moment's reflexion will convince you of the propriety of mystaying here till his mother does me the honor again to approve hischoice; or till our engagement is publicly known to be at an end. Mrs.Clayton is a prudent mother, and a woman of the world, and may considerthat Sir George's situation is changed since she consented to hismarriage.
I am not capricious; but I will own to you, that my esteem for SirGeorge is much lessened by his behaviour since his last return fromNew-York: he mistakes me extremely, if he supposes he has the leastadditional merit in my eyes from his late acquisition of fortune: onthe contrary, I now see faults in him which were concealed by themediocrity of his situation before, and which do not promise happinessto a heart like mine, a heart which has little taste for the falseglitter of life, and the most lively one possible for the calm realdelights of friendship, and domestic felicity.
Accept my sincerest congratulations on your return of health; andbelieve me,
My dearest Madam, Your obliged and affectionate Emily Montague.
LETTER 45.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Nov. 23.
I have been seeing the last ship go out of the port, Lucy; you haveno notion what a melancholy sight it is: we are now left to ourselves,and shut up from all the world for the winter: somehow we seem soforsaken, so cut off from the rest of human kind, I cannot bear theidea: I sent a thousand sighs and a thousand tender wishes to dearEngland, which I never loved so much as at this moment.
Do you know, my dear, I could cry if I was not ashamed? I shall notabsolutely be in spirits again this week.
'Tis the first time I have felt any thing like bad spirits inCanada: I followed the ship with my eyes till it turned Point Levi,and, when I lost sight of it, felt as if I had lost every thing dear tome on earth. I am not particular: I see a gloom on every countenance; Ihave been at church, and think I never saw so many dejected faces in mylife.
Adieu! for the present: it will be a fortnight before I can sendthis letter; another agreable circumstance that: would to Heaven Iwere in England, though I changed the bright sun of Canada for a fog!
Dec. 1.
We have had a week's snow without intermission: happily for us, yourbrother and the Fitz have been weather-bound all the time at Silleri,and cannot possibly get away.
We have amused ourselves within doors, for there is no stirringabroad, with playing at cards, playing at shuttlecock, playing thefool, making love, and making moral reflexions: upon the whole, theweek has not been very disagreable.
The snow is when we wake constantly up to our chamber windows; weare literally dug out of it every morning.
As to Quebec, I give up all hopes of ever seeing it again: but mycomfort is, that the people there cannot possibly get to theirneighbors; and I flatter myself very few of them have been half so wellentertained at home.
We shall be abused, I know, for (what is really the fault of theweather) keeping these two creatures here this week; the ladies hate usfor engrossing two such fine fellows as your brother and Fitzgerald, aswell as for having vastly more than our share of all the men: wegenerally go out attended by at least a dozen, without any other womanbut a lively old French lady, who is a
flirt of my father's, and willcertainly be my mamma.
We sweep into the general's assembly on Thursdays with such a trainof beaux as draws every eye upon us: the rest of the fellows crowdround us; the misses draw up, blush, and flutter their fans; and yourlittle Bell sits down with such a saucy impertinent consciousness inher countenance as is really provoking: Emily on the contrary looksmild and humble, and seems by her civil decent air to apologize to themfor being so much more agreable than themselves, which is a fault I formy part am not in the least inclined to be ashamed of.
Your idea of Quebec, my dear, is perfectly just; it is like a thirdor fourth rate country town in England; much hospitality, littlesociety; cards, scandal, dancing, and good chear; all excellent thingsto pass away a winter evening, and peculiarly adapted to what I amtold, and what I begin to feel, of the severity of this climate.
I am told they abuse me, which I can easily believe, because myimpertinence to them deserves it: but what care I, you know, Lucy, solong as I please myself, and am at Silleri out of the sound?
They are squabbling at Quebec, I hear, about I cannot tell what,therefore shall not attempt to explain: some dregs of old disputes, itseems, which have had not time to settle: however, we new comers havecertainly nothing to do with these matters: you can't think howcomfortable we feel at Silleri, out of the way.
My father says, the politics of Canada are as complex and asdifficult to be understood as those of the Germanic system.
For my part, I think no politics worth attending to but those of thelittle commonwealth of woman: if I can maintain my empire over hearts,I leave the men to quarrel for every thing else.
I observe a strict neutrality, that I may have a chance for admirersamongst both parties. Adieu! the post is just going out.
Your faithful A. Fermor.
LETTER 46.
To Miss Montague, at Silleri.
Montreal, Dec. 18.
There is something, my dear Emily, in what you say as to thedelicacy of your situation; but, whilst you are so very exact in actingup to it on one side, do you not a little overlook it on the other?
I am extremely unwilling to say a disagreable thing to you, but MissFermor is too young as well as too gay to be a protection--the veryparticular circumstance you mention makes Mr. Melmoth's the only housein Canada in which, if I have any judgment, you can with propriety livetill your marriage takes place.
You extremely injure Sir George in supposing it possible he shouldfail in his engagements: and I see with pain that you are morequicksighted to his failings than is quite consistent with thattenderness, which (allow me to say) he has a right to expect from you.He is like other men of his age and fortune; he is the very man you solately thought amiable, and of whose love you cannot without injusticehave a doubt.
Though I approve your contempt of the false glitter of the world,yet I think it a little strained at your time of life: did I not knowyou as well as I do, I should say that philosophy in a young andespecially a female mind, is so out of season, as to be extremelysuspicious. The pleasures which attend on affluence are too great, andtoo pleasing to youth, to be overlooked, except when under theinfluence of a livelier passion.
Take care, my Emily; I know the goodness of your heart, but I alsoknow its sensibility; remember that, if your situation requires greatcircumspection in your behaviour to Sir George, it requires muchgreater to every other person: it is even more delicate than marriageitself.
I shall expect you and Miss Fermor as soon as the roads are suchthat you can travel agreably; and, as you object to Sir George as aconductor, I will entreat Captain Fermor to accompany you hither.
I am, my dear, Your most affectionate E. Melmoth.
LETTER 47.
To Mrs. Melmoth, at Montreal.
Silleri, Dec. 26.
I entreat you, my dearest Madam, to do me the justice to believe Isee my engagement to Sir George in as strong a light as you can do; ifthere is any change in my behaviour to him, it is owing to the veryapparent one in his conduct to me, of which no one but myself can be ajudge. As to what you say in regard to my contempt of affluence, I canonly say it is in my character, whether it is generally in the femaleone or not.
Were the cruel hint you are pleased to give just, be assured SirGeorge should be the first person to whom I would declare it. I hopehowever it is possible to esteem merit without offending even the mostsacred of all engagements.
A gentleman waits for this. I have only time to say, that MissFermor thanks you for your obliging invitation, and promises she willaccompany me to Montreal as soon as the river St. Lawrence will bearcarriages, as the upper road is extremely inconvenient.
I am, My dearest Madam, Your obliged and faithful Emily Montague.
LETTER 48.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Dec. 27.
After a fortnight's snow, we have had near as much clear blue skyand sunshine: the snow is six feet deep, so that we may be said to walkon our own heads; that is, speaking _en philosophe_, we occupy thespace we should have done in summer if we had done so; or, to explainit more clearly, our heels are now where our heads should be.
The scene is a little changed for the worse: the lovely landscape isnow one undistinguished waste of snow, only a little diversified by thegreat variety of ever-greens in the woods: the romantic winding pathdown the side of the hill to our farm, on which we used to amuseourselves with seeing the beaux serpentize, is now a confused,frightful, rugged precipice, which one trembles at the idea ofascending.
There is something exceedingly agreable in the whirl of thecarrioles, which fly along at the rate of twenty miles an hour; andreally hurry one out of one's senses.
Our little coterie is the object of great envy; we live just as welike, without thinking of other people, which I am not sure _here_is prudent, but it is pleasant, which is a better thing.
Emily, who is the civilest creature breathing, is for giving up herown pleasure to avoid offending others, and wants me, every time wemake a carrioling-party, to invite all the misses of Quebec to go withus, because they seem angry at our being happy without them: but forthat very reason I persist in my own way, and consider wisely, that,though civility is due to other people, yet there is also some civilitydue to one's self.
I agree to visit every body, but think it mighty absurd I must nottake a ride without asking a hundred people I scarce know to go withme: yet this is the style here; they will neither be happy themselves,nor let any body else. Adieu!
Dec. 29.
I will never take a beaver's word again as long as I live: there isno supporting this cold; the Canadians say it is seventeen years sincethere has been so severe a season. I thought beavers had been peopleof more honor.
Adieu! I can no more: the ink freezes as I take it from the standishto the paper, though close to a large stove. Don't expect me to writeagain till May; one's faculties are absolutely congealed this weather.
Yours, A. Fermor.
LETTER 49.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Jan. 1.
It is with difficulty I breathe, my dear; the cold is so amazinglyintense as almost totally to stop respiration. I have business, thebusiness of pleasure, at Quebec; but have not courage to stir from thestove.
We have had five days, the severity of which none of the nativesremember to have ever seen equaled: 'tis said, the cold is beyond allthe thermometers here, tho' intended for the climate.
The strongest wine freezes in a room which has a stove in it; evenbrandy is thickened to the consistence of oil: the largest wood fire,in a wide chimney, does not throw out its heat a quarter of a yard.
I must venture to Quebec to-morrow, or have company at home:amusements are here necessary to life; we must be jovial, or the bloodwill freeze in our veins.
I no longer wonder the elegant arts are unknown here; the rigour ofthe climate suspends the very powers of the und
erstanding; what thenmust become of those of the imagination? Those who expect to see
"A new Athens rising near the pole,"
will find themselves extremely disappointed. Genius will nevermount high, where the faculties of the mind are benumbed half the year.
'Tis sufficient employment for the most lively spirit here tocontrive how to preserve an existence, of which there are moments thatone is hardly conscious: the cold really sometimes brings on a sort ofstupefaction.
We had a million of beaux here yesterday, notwithstanding the severecold: 'tis the Canadian custom, calculated I suppose for the climate,to visit all the ladies on New-year's-day, who sit dressed in form tobe kissed: I assure you, however, our kisses could not warm them; butwe were obliged, to our eternal disgrace, to call in rasberry brandy asan auxiliary.
You would have died to see the men; they look just like so manybears in their open carrioles, all wrapped in furs from head to foot;you see nothing of the human form appear, but the tip of a nose.
They have intire coats of beaver skin, exactly like Friday's inRobinson Crusoe, and casques on their heads like the old knights errantin romance; you never saw such tremendous figures; but without thiskind of cloathing it would be impossible to stir out at present.
The ladies are equally covered up, tho' in a less unbecoming style;they have long cloth cloaks with loose hoods, like those worn by themarket-women in the north of England. I have one in scarlet, the hoodlined with sable, the prettiest ever seen here, in which I assure you Ilook amazingly handsome; the men think so, and call me the _Littlered riding-hood_; a name which becomes me as well as the hood.