king sternly at him, "I would have
them warriors," said she, "and therefore feed them with the food of
men."

This anecdote may perhaps disgust you with the Indian ladies, who
certainly do not excel in female softness. I will therefore turn to the
Canadian, who have every charm except that without which all other
charms are to me insipid, I mean sensibility: they are gay, coquet, and
sprightly; more gallant than sensible; more flatter'd by the vanity of
inspiring passion, than capable of feeling it themselves; and, like
their European countrywomen, prefer the outward attentions of unmeaning
admiration to the real devotion of the heart. There is not perhaps on
earth a race of females, who talk so much, or feel so little, of love
as the French; the very reverse is in general true of the English: my
fair countrywomen seem ashamed of the charming sentiment to which they
are indebted for all their power.

Adieu! I am going to attend a very handsome French lady, who allows
me the honor to drive her _en calache_ to our Canadian Hyde Park,
the road to St. Foix, where you will see forty or fifty calashes, with
pretty women in them, parading every evening: you will allow the
apology to be admissible.

Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 5.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Quebec, July 4.

What an inconstant animal is man! do you know, Lucy, I begin to be
tir'd of the lovely landscape round me? I have enjoy'd from it all the
pleasure meer inanimate objects can give, and find 'tis a pleasure that
soon satiates, if not relieved by others which are more lively. The
scenery is to be sure divine, but one grows weary of meer scenery: the
most enchanting prospect soon loses its power of pleasing, when the eye
is accustom'd to it: we gaze at first transported on the charms of
nature, and fancy they will please for ever; but, alas! it will not
do; we sigh for society, the conversation of those dear to us; the
more animated pleasures of the heart. There are fine women, and men of
merit here; but, as the affections are not in our power, I have not
yet felt my heart gravitate towards any of them. I must absolutely set
in earnest about my settlement, in order to emerge from the state of
vegetation into which I seem falling.

But to your last: you ask me a particular account of the convents
here. Have you an inclination, my dear, to turn nun? if you have, you
could not have applied to a properer person; my extreme modesty and
reser