To John Temple, Esq; Pall Mall.
Quebec, Jan. 9.
You mistake me extremely, Jack, as you generally do: I have by no
means forsworn marriage: on the contrary, though happiness is not so
often found there as I wish it was, yet I am convinced it is to be
found no where else; and, poor as I am, I should not hesitate about
trying the experiment myself to-morrow, if I could meet with a woman
to my taste, unappropriated, whose ideas of the state agreed with mine,
which I allow are something out of the common road: but I must be
certain those ideas are her own, therefore they must arise
spontaneously, and not in complaisance to mine; for which reason, if I
could, I would endeavour to lead my mistress into the subject, and know
her sentiments on the manner of living in that state before I
discovered my own.
I must also be well convinced of her tenderness before I make a
declaration of mine: she must not distinguish me because I flatter her,
but because she thinks I have merit; those fancied passions, where
gratified vanity assumes the form of love, will not satisfy my heart:
the eyes, the air, the voice of the woman I love, a thousand little
indiscretions dear to the heart, must convince me I am beloved, before
I confess I love.
Though sensible of the advantages of fortune, I can be happy without
it: if I should ever be rich enough to live in the world, no one will
enjoy it with greater gust; if not, I can with great spirit, provided I
find such a companion as I wish, retire from it to love, content, and a
cottage: by which I mean to the life of a little country gentleman.
You ask me my opinion of the winter here. If you can bear a degree
of cold, of which Europeans can form no idea, it is far from being
unpleasant; we have settled frost, and an eternal blue sky. Travelling
in this country in winter is particularly agreable: the carriages are
easy, and go on the ice with an amazing velocity, though drawn only by
one horse.
The continual plain of snow would be extremely fatiguing both to the
eye and imagination, were not both relieved, not only by the woods in
prospect, but by the tall branches of pines with which the road is
marked out on each side, and which form a verdant avenue agreably
contrasted with the dazzling whiteness of the snow, on which, when the
sun shines, it is almost impossible to look steadily even for a moment.
Were it not for this method of marking out the roads, it would be
impossible to find the way from one village to another.
The eternal sameness however of this avenue is tiresome when you go
far in one road.
I have passed the last two months in the most agreable manner
possible, in a little society of persons I extremely love: I feel
myself so attached to this little circle of friends, that I have no
pleasure in any other company, and think all the time absolutely lost
that politeness forces me to spend any where else. I extremely dread
our party's being dissolved, and wish the winter to last for ever, for
I am afraid the spring will divide us.
Adieu! and believe me,
Yours,
Ed. Rivers.