etimes
with silver spangles; and a blanket thrown across their shoulders, and
fastened before with a kind of bodkin, with necklaces, and other
ornaments of beads or shells.

They are in general tall, well made, and agile to the last degree;
have a lively imagination, a strong memory; and, as far as their
interests are concerned, are very dextrous politicians.

Their address is cold and reserved; but their treatment of
strangers, and the unhappy, infinitely kind and hospitable. A very
worthy priest, with whom I am acquainted at Quebec, was some years
since shipwrecked in December on the island of Anticosti: after a
variety of distresses, not difficult to be imagined on an island
without inhabitants, during the severity of a winter even colder than
that of Canada; he, with the small remains of his companions who
survived such complicated distress, early in the spring, reached the
main land in their boat, and wandered to a cabbin of savages; the
ancient of which, having heard his story, bid him enter, and liberally
supplied their wants: "Approach, brother," said he; "the unhappy have
a right to our assistance; we are men, and cannot but feel for the
distresses which happen to men;" a sentiment which has a strong
resemblance to a celebrated one in a Greek tragedy.

You will not expect more from me on this subject, as my residence
here has been short, and I can only be said to catch a few marking
features flying. I am unable to give you a picture at full length.

Nothing astonishes me so much as to find their manners so little
changed by their intercourse with the Europeans; they seem to have
learnt nothing of us but excess in drinking.

The situation of the village is very fine, on an eminence, gently
rising to a thick wood at some distance, a beautiful little serpentine
river in front, on which are a bridge, a mill, and a small cascade, at
such a distance as to be very pleasing objects from their houses; and a
cultivated country, intermixed with little woods lying between them and
Quebec, from which they are distant only nine very short miles.

What a letter have I written! I shall quit my post of historian to
your friend Miss Fermor; the ladies love writing much better than we
do; and I should perhaps be only just, if I said they write better.

Adieu!
Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 12.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Quebec, Sept. 12.

I yesterday morning received a letter from Major Melmoth, t