is sort only gives a pretty fellow occasion to vary
the style of his civilities, and shew a greater degree of attention.

But it is almost time to come to Montmorenci: to avoid, however,
fatiguing you or myself, I shall refer the rest of our tour to another
letter, which will probably accompany this: my meaning is, that two
moderate letters are vastly better than one long one; in which
sentiment I know you agree with

Yours,
A. Fermor.

LETTER 81.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Silleri, Feb. 25, Afternoon.

So, my dear, as I was saying, this same ride to Montmorenci--where
was I, Lucy? I forget.--O, I believe pretty near the mouth of the
bay, embosomed in which lies the lovely cascade of which I am to give
you a winter description, and which I only slightly mentioned when I
gave you an account of the rivers by which it is supplied.

The road, about a mile before you reach this bay, is a regular
glassy level, without any of those intervening hills of ice which I
have mentioned; hills, which with the ideas, though false ones, of
danger and difficulty, give those of beauty and magnificence too.

As you gradually approach the bay, you are struck with an awe, which
increases every moment, as you come nearer, from the grandeur of a
scene, which is one of the noblest works of nature: the beauty, the
proportion, the solemnity, the wild magnificence of which, surpassing
every possible effect of art, impress one strongly with the idea of its
Divine Almighty Architect.

The rock on the east side, which is first in view as you approach,
is a smooth and almost perpendicular precipice, of the same height as
the fall; the top, which a little over-hangs, is beautifully covered
with pines, firs, and ever-greens of various kinds, whose verdant
lustre is rendered at this season more shining and lovely by the
surrounding snow, as well as by that which is sprinkled irregularly on
their branches, and glitters half melted in the sun-beams: a thousand
smaller shrubs are scattered on the side of the ascent, and, having
their roots in almost imperceptible clefts of the rock, seem to those
below to grow in air.

The west side is equally lofty, but more sloping, which, from that
circumstance, affords soil all the way, upon shelving inequalities of
the rock, at little distances, for the growth of trees and shrubs, by
which it is almost entirely hid.

The most pleasing view of this miracle of nature is certain