cannot give her a coach and six; but I can give her, what is more
conducive to happiness, a heart which knows how to value her
perfections.

I never had so pleasing a journey; we were three days coming down,
because we made it a continual party of pleasure, took music with us,
landed once or twice a day, visited the French families we knew, lay
both nights on shore, and danced at the seigneur's of the village.

This river, from Montreal to Quebec, exhibits a scene perhaps not to
be matched in the world: it is settled on both sides, though the
settlements are not so numerous on the south shore as on the other: the
lovely confusion of woods, mountains, meadows, corn fields, rivers (for
there are several on both sides, which lose themselves in the St.
Lawrence), intermixed with churches and houses breaking upon you at a
distance through the trees, form a variety of landscapes, to which it
is difficult to do justice.

This charming scene, with a clear serene sky, a gentle breeze in our
favor, and the conversation of half a dozen fine women, would have made
the voyage pleasing to the most insensible man on earth: my Emily too
of the party, and most politely attentive to the pleasure she saw I had
in making the voyage agreable to her.

I every day love her more; and, without considering the impropriety
of it, I cannot help giving way to an inclination, in which I find such
exquisite pleasure; I find a thousand charms in the least trifle I can
do to oblige her.

Don't reason with me on this subject: I know it is madness to