IF a private suffrage could add fame to a public character I shoud be the foremost to express my opinion of your Graces merits
for they who speak thy praise secure their own
But as a compliment is always intended in an address of this nature I shall assume the sole honour of it to myself by declaring
to the world that I am one of the many who have reason to subscribe myself
With respect and gratitude Your Graces very much obliged and most obedient servant FRANCES
THE following work is submitted to the perusal of the public with infinite timidity and apprehension as it is a species of writing which I had never attempted before from a consciousness of my dificiency in the principal article of such compositions namely invention
THE generality of NOVEL → READERS may therefore probably be disappointed in not meeting with any extraordinary adventure or uncommon situation in the following pages while persons of a more natural taste will I flatter myself be rather pleased at finding the stories and incidents here ralated such as might for I affirm they did and most of them to my own knowledge certainly happen in the various contingencies of real life
BUT though I have not attempted to feign any fable I acknowledge that I have endeavoured to conceal some truth by changing scenes and altering circumstances in order to avoid too marked an application of the several stories and characters to the real persons from whom I have taken my drama We have no right over other persons secrets come they to our knowledge through whatsoever medium of intelligence they may—Accident confers none and confidence forbids it
AS there is no fictitious memoir here ralated neither is there any factitious moral displayed to the incredulous reader amongst all the various sentiments of this recital I write not of puppets but of men I have endeavoured to describe the feelings nay the foibles of the human heart such as we are naturally conscious of in ourselves but meddle not with the wires
of the floicks which only render us machines by helping us to perform a part of which we have no sensation
I KNOW not whether novel → like the epopee has any rules peculiar to itself—If it has I may have innocently erred against them all and drawn upon myself the envenomed rage of that tremendous body the minor critics—But if I have spread a table for them they shall be welcome to the treat and let them feed upon it heartily—Sensibility is in my mind as necessary as taste to intitle us to judge of a work like this and a cold criticism formed upon rules for waiting can therefore be of no manner of use but to enable the stupid to speak with a seeming intelligence of what they neither feel nor understand
LABBE Troublet in his essays on literature and morals says
Si un ouvrage sans defaut ètoit possible it ne le seroit qu á un bomme mediocre
And in anothet place
Il ny a rien de plus different qun ouvrage sans defaut un ouvrage parfait
I SHALL only add that I sincerely wish the subsequent pages had fewer faults to exercise the good or ill nature of my several readers but I must now throw myself and my book with all its imperfections on its bead upon the indulgence of the public from whom I have received many favours and to whom I am a truly grateful and
Most obedient servant FRANCES
TELL me my dear philosophie wise sister why those gloomy mortals stiled moralists take so much pains to put us out of humour with our present state of existence by declaring that happiness is not the lot of man c c Do they think these dogmas enhance the value of felicity as unexpected blessings are mostly prized or is it that themselves soured by mortifications and disappointments which their vanity or caprice have occasioned they are unwilling to acknowledge that degree of perfection in any state of being which they do not themselves enjoy but why do I argue where I can at once confute by declaring your Emily blessed to the utmost extent of her most romantic wishes and feeling if possible an addition to her felicity by knowing that you share it
OUR journey was delightful even the sun which had not appeared for some days shone forth on us in its full lustre creation smiled the gladness of my heart gilded every object I thought the birds sung hymeneals and I was sorry when even Miss Westons fine voice interrupted their still sweeter notes My lord was—himself I cannot say more to express all that is tender elegant and polite
LADY Harriet who you know is of the gentle kind looked assent to our happiness yet frequent sighs escaped her Why should she sigh I have heard people say they do so from habit without sensibility or sensation Time and use may possibly work such an effect but this habit must certainly have its rise either from sickness or sorrow Perhaps lady Harriet may be in love If unhappily so how truly to be pitied
IT is impossible I should yet be able to give you any idea of this fine old seat nor do I think I shall ever attempt it I had much rather you should see than read its beauties I hate flourishing descriptions Modern writers overdress nature as ill judging women do themselves They give her parterres for patches hanging woods for lappets and embroider her beautiful green gown with all the colours of the rainbow I flatter myself that your taste for it is elegant will approve whatever my lord has planned and I shall not insist much on your admiring the works of his ancestors The closet in which I am now writing is charmingly situated It commands—but after what I have just said let me command my pen
MY lord ever kind and attentive to me wrote to his sister Lady Lawson who lives eight miles off to defer her visit till this day as it was probable I might have been fatigued with my
journey He speaks with such extreme tenderness of this lady that I begin to love her already by anticipation
BUT hark her carriage rolls into the court yard and my heart steps forth to meet her but returns again to assure my dear Fanny that I am
her truly affectionate sister E WOODVILLE
MAY my dearest Emily ever continue an exception to those opinions which notwithstanding her present felicity have too surely their foundation in this worlds experience The bitter ingredients of life are however more sparingly scattered in the potions of some than others and I believe there may be many who have passed through life without feeling one natural misfortune—But then these favourites of heaven unworthy of its bounty are apt to create afflictions for themselves and mourn over ideal for want of real distress
THIS is a failing I am not at all apprehensive of your falling into at least for some years to come but as I have ever acted as a mother to my dearest Emily or at least endeavoured as far as it was possible for me to supply that loss to her infant years let me now with the same maternal tenderness warn her against the contrary extreme that of being too much elated with her present joys
lest whilst she clasps she kills them
AND now my Emily a truce with moralizing which I confess would have been improper at this aera but that you brought it on yourself and I only appear in the character of the slave who attended the triumphs of the Roman conquerors merely to inform them they were mortal Gracious heaven that such an information should be necessary to any of thy frail creatures But I find myself relapsing and will learn from you to command my pen
POOR lady Harriet I am sorry she should have cause to sigh for I agree with you that sighing may be incidental but not accidental I hope the gay scene of receiving and returning visits c in which she will be engaged with you may help to dissipate the cloud of her chagrin I rejoice in the acquisition of your new sister she must be amiable if lord Woodville loves her What a compliment to my Emily but let it rather make her grateful than vain
I FEAR I shall not have an opportunity of approving my taste by admiring lord Woodvilles improvements for some time Sir John who is not a little jealous of your not having mentioned him purposes going for a couple of months to Paries Do not grow jealous in your turn I do not intend to accompany him to that gay scene which would have fewer charms for me than the rational and rural pleasures of Woodfort But I design to inoculate my little Edward and Emily during his absence I shall not acquaint him with my intention till it is over I know he wishes it done and I would spare him the anxiety of a fond father upon such an occasion I know too he will be vastly obliged to me for laying hold of this opportunity for it is an invariable maxim that all men hate trouble of every kind and choose to be out of the
way when there is any disagreeable operation to be performed
MY sister Straffon who you know is to be married to Sir James Miller has determined to take her chance with my children She says she could not answer it to her conscience to marry Sir James who seems to be enamoured of her face till she has put her features beyond the common danger of an alteration I went with her last night to Ranelagh—as she said to take leave of it I hope but for a short time
THE attention of the whole assemby was taken up with a beautiful foreigner the marchioness de St Aumont I think I never beheld so much vivacity and sweetness joined before in the same countenance I have just looked up at your picture and thought it tacitly reproached me for having so soon forgot my Emilys face Ill look again Her eyes have more vivacity I must confess but yours a greater sweetness Hers are black yours are blue The advantage which each of you have over the other in this particular may be more owing to colour than expression
THE marchioness has been a widow about a year and does not appear to be above twenty I am certain that if I were a man I should be in love with her I am glad she has left Paris before my Straffon goes thither—you may read Strephon if you please I shall take care to keep him out of danger while he stays in London or perhaps she might keep him sighing at home and so mar both his scheme and mine The very best of these men my dear Emily have hearts nearly resembling tinder though they would have us think they are made of a sterner stuff—a sparkling eye sets them all in a blaze
LADY Sandford who doats upon foreigners has already engrossed her perhaps she may engage her to go with her into the country If so you will probably meet her at York races and if that should happen it will be absolutely necessary for lord Woodville to arm himself capà pie with constancy and for you also to rivet the joints of that armour with unaffected complacency chearfulness and love
LUCY and Sir James Miller are in the drawingroom I fancy she is tired of a têteatête as the fondest lovers sometimes are for she has just sent your little namesake to request my company I must therefore quit you to attend her summons I shall expect a particular account of all occurrences at Woodfort as the most minute matter that relates to you must ever be of consequence to your affectionate
FRANCES STRAFFON
PS As I have yet time enough to send my letter I shall acquaint you with the occasion of my being called from it Lucy had just informed Sir James that she intended to be inoculated He opposed it with the utmost vehemence and told many stories upon that subject to intimidate her In vain she continued firm to her purpose
HE then entreated that they might be married before the operation and he would give his consent to her undergoing it in ten days after This she absolutely refused and I think with good reason The altercation grew warm on both sides I was chosen umpire and gave my opinion in favour of Lucys arguments Sir James said I was a partial judge and quitted us soon after with some little warmth
I WAS sorry to perceive a starting tear in Lucys lovely eye and rallied her on being lowspirited She confessed she felt a kind of foreboding that the union between Sir James and her would never be accomplished and yet said she had not the least apprehension that her death would prevent it I told her that I foresaw nothing else that could as her beauty was even less in danger from this experiment than her life
SHE replied that they were both of them but transient blessings and she had happily brought her mind to such a state of resignation as to be fully prepared for the loss of either But she owned that she had not yet accustomed herself to the thought of resigning Sir James however if she was to lose his affection she could better sustain that affliction bofore marriage than after
HERE her eyes streamed again and while I was endeavouring to dissipate these gloomy vapours Sir John luckily came in to the relief of us both as it put an end to the subject of inoculation which I told you before he is not to receive the least hint about for the present But Lucy and he are affectionately yours and rejoice with me in your happiness
Once more adieu and good night
I DID not insist upon the permanence of human felicity I said only that there was such a thing as perfect happiness and I hope with a truly grateful heart acknowledged myself in possession of that rare treasure However your letter has given a little alloy to it and rendered it less pure and unmixed
I FEEL for you on your childrens account and for Lucy on her own She has long determined on inoculation she mentioned it to lady Harriet before I was married and made her will the day after she became of age I admire her fortitude but fear I should not be able to imitate it
YOUR description of the marchioness is really alarming and has already made me jealous not of lord Woodville but of lady Straffon If you should ever become acquainted with her she will certainly rival every body but Sir John and the dear little ones Perhaps Lucys heroism may still preserve her some place in your heart but the poor absent Emily will be totally forgotten when you already begin to stand in need of her picture to remind you of her
MY lord and lady Harriet both knew her in Paris and both agree that the charms of her person are inferior to those of her mind and that she was still more admired as un bel esprit than as une belle dame Wont you give me credit for the utmost generosity in furnishing you with this account of my rival that is to be
I HOPE she may come to York races that I may have an opportunity of examining this phoenix with a critics eye but it shall not be like the modern ones who are generally so intent on spying defects that they are apt to overlook the most striking beauties This however may sometimes proceed rather from a want of taste than a spirit of malevolence and I am always inclined to pity those unhappy people who never seem to be pleased
CHARMING lady Lawson What an engaging countenance what a quick sensibility in her looks what an irressistible smile I am not under a necessity of looking at my bracelet to remind me that this portrait resembles lady Straffon but lady Lawson is taller thinner and more of the brunette She is two years younger than my lord and has been married six years to Sir William Lawson who seems to be what they call a jolly goodhumoured man He hates London loves fox hunting and has they say no exception to a chearful glass or a pretty lass I fear poor lady Lawson was thrown away though Sir William is generally esteemed what they call a good husband He behaves outwardly well to his wife merely because she is so and would have treated her chambermaid in the same manner if he had happened to marry her What a mortifying situation to a woman of delicacy
THE meeting between her and my lord was truly affectionate and tender She had not seen him since his return from making the grand tour She thanked him in the most graceful manner for increasing her happiness by ensuring his own and she also hoped that of so amiable a person she was pleased to add as lady Woodville My lord replied that if any thing could add to his felicity it must be her approbation of his choice
which he was certain would encrease with her knowledge of his dear Emily He then joined our hands bowed and withdrew How kind in him to be speak her favour for me But I shall endeavour to deserve what she seems so ready to bestow
LADY Harriets dovelike eyes glistened with pleasure at her cousins politeness She said there was a nearer relation between lady Lawson and me than what my lord had given us for we had kindred souls
HERE the arrival of a great deal of company put an end to all conversation Is it not surprizing sister that where there are most words there is generally the least sense And yet it is always the case for I never remember to have met with any thing like rational discourse in a company that exceeded five or six
LORD and Lady Withers their two daughters the eldest a fine woman and once intended as a wife for lord Woodville The point had been settled between their fathers but the death of old lord Woodville happily for me left the son at liberty to chuse for himself She appeared to be in some confusion when he saluted her and I felt myself a good deal distressed on her account
WOMEN are not such wretches as men misrepresent them Conquest I own is pleasant but I detest a triumph It sinks one methinks below the vanquished Her sister is pretty young and modest I think the whole family amiable and agreeable
SIR Harry Ransford and his lady—What a pair He old gouty and peevish—she young handsome and vulgar His son by a former wife polite and sensible with a wellmade genteel person My lord and he were intimate
abroad I wish he would fall in love with our dear lady Harriet Nay he certainly will do so I cant possibly see how he can well avoid it
MR Watson Mr Young Mr Haywood c What a croud You would have pitied me Fanny Though I have been four months married I was so bebrided and wished joy that it made me downright sad Lady Lawson was very useful to me in assisting to entertain the company She has in her manners and address a great deal of that graceful and courtly ease which I always admire in others without having ever been able to obtain in myself But all farther endeavours after this perfection are henceforward at an end with me and I hope now to be able to preserve my mauvaise bonte during life for after twenty it is rarely to be overcome without paying too dear for the conquest
IN the afternoon the younger part of my lords tenants appeared in the avenue neatly dressed and adorned with all the honours of the spring and forming a long dance together My lord proposed our going out to see them I found this had been designed as there was a large carpet spread on the lawn and seats already prepared for us
WHEN we were seated they passed by in couples chanting a rustic hymn in praise of Hymen and strewing flowers before me At length they presented me with a beautiful and fragrant wreath which I immediately placed on lord Woodvilles brow while the villagers retreated singing and forming themselves into a rural dance infinitely more agreeable to me than any of the grands balets at the oppera or
theatres We left them at their sport and returned into the house
AFTER tea my lord proposed our following the example of his merry peasants This was readily assented to by every one but Sir Harry Ransford who told us he never lay within ten miles of his own house after the twenty fifth of March and insisted upon lady Ransfords going away with him that instant as he said they should hardly be able to reach home by his usual time of going to bed at nine oclock summer and winter
WE all intreated that he would permit lady Ransford to stay which he peremptorily refused saying it would be setting an ill example to the bridegroom to let women have their way She said every thing in her power to prevail but when she found it in vain and that he would force her away she was provoked at last to call him methodical monster He replied that it was better to be one by his own method than hers and hobbled into his coach She followed with the face of a fury What a delightful têteátête must theirs be
MR Ransford staid and danced with me I think him the best dancer I ever saw Our little ball got the better of all disagreeable reserve and at supper we appeared like old acquaintance perfectly at ease and quite chearful My lord was in remarkable good spirits a•d even lady Harriet seemed gay The Withers are a charming family both the young ladies play on the harpsichord and sing finely
WE had an agreeable concert the next day they staid till late in the evening Sir William and lady Lawson went home this morning We are to return their visit tomorrow Mr Ransford is still with us He is a great lover of music
I fancy there is not much harmony in his fathers house and where the instruments of a matrimonial concert do not found in unison the discord is most grating
I SHALL long impatiently for every post till I hear that all your patients are out of danger Lucys presages with regard to Sir James are only the effect of low spirits I never saw any man I think more in love than he appears to be I cannot however bear the thoughts of his consenting to her being inoculated ten days after their marriage Selfish wretch I dont let Lucy see this paragraph
I HAVE now shewn my obedience to my dear motherly sisters commands by entering into a minute detail of every thing that has passed at Woodfort I am disappointed at not having the pleasure of seeing her here yet I highly applaud the disposition of that time she promised to bestow on
PS Sir John has no reason to be jealous while I can with truth declare I love but one man in the world better than him
I AM much obliged to my dear Emily for the entertaining detail of her amusements in the country I am charmed with your account of lady Lawson and am not like my dear spoiled child the least inclined to be jealous I thank you for the flattering likeness you have drawn of
I THINK you extremely happy in meeting with such an amiable friend in so agreeable a neighbour She will I doubt not be kind enough to inform you of the Carte du pais where you are situated and what is of infinitely more consequence to your happiness she may acquaint you with the particulars of her brothers temper for be assured all charming as he is that he has some the knowing and treating of which properly may be the surest basis of your future felicity
SIR John set out for Paris last Monday and in an hour after Mr Ranby inoculated Lucy and my dear children Though I have the firmest reliance on the goodness of Providence and the fullest conviction of the general success of this opperation the mother could not stand it I was forced to retire to my closet I repented my not having acquainted Sir John with my design and thought that if any mifortune should happen to either of the children even his grief would seem a constant reproach to me
IN this situation of mind I poured forth my soul in fervent prayer before the throne of mercy My apprehensions vanished the rectitude of my intentions confirmed my resolutions and I felt myself perfectly calm and resigned Amazing efficacy of true devotion But indeed my dear Emily there is no other resource for the afflicted No other balm to heal the wounded soul By this and this alone we are enabled to triumph over pain sickness distress sorrow even death itself
THE children are in a fine way and have received the infection Lucy it is thought has
not She insists upon being inoculated again tomorrow Sir James supped with us on Sunday night and told us with a grave face that he should not see us again till his affair was quite over for if he visited here he could go no where else I laughed and bid him stay away if he could
THOUGH I did not think him serious he has hitherto kept his word but sends a formal card every day to enquire of our healths I see that his behaviour hurts Lucy though she affects not to take notice of it I hear he spends all his time with Miss Nelson She is artful and agreeable I begin to fear poor Lucys presage may be verified
ADIBU my dearest Emily I shall not write to you again till I can congratulate you on the perfect recovery of our invalids Till then and ever I am
THE devils in it if the honey moon is not over yet and you near half a year married This is carrying on the farce too far and looks as if you wanted to make us infidels believe that pleasure was to be found in the sober and virtuous scheme of matrimony
I ALLOW your wife to be handsome I will suppose her lively and agreeable too but then have you not had time enough to be tired of all these perfections and whenever that happened
the more merit a woman has the greater our dislike
I SHOULD never forgive a wife that did not supply me with a reason for hating when I grew weary of her But I fancy I need not be in any manner of pain on that account for the preciou• creatures have generally a quantum sufficit of foible and caprice to answer that end at least all those I have ever conversed with appeared to be compounded of nothing else after one months intimate acquaintance
YOU will perhaps tell me that lady Woodville is a very different kind of woman from those I hint at It may be so and I will admit it But prithee Harry is she not your wife And in that comprehensive term are not restraint care limitation of pleasures and squalling brats included But love her if you will and as long as you can but believe me the only way to keep such a sickly flame alive is by the fuel of absence
THEREFORE order your horses directly and leave her where she should ever remain sixed to the freehold while you shine forth once more among your old friends at the Shakespear I write this by order of the society from which you will be excluded if you do not appear upon this summons from
Yours c J T
I RECEIVED your lively letter but wish you had chosen a fitter subject to display your wit upon than the old commonplace topic of matrimony Were I not perfectly acquainted with your writing as well as your humour I should have thought your letter a counterfeit You are no libertine Thornton and yet seem to take pleasure in adopting their gross and contemptible sentiments
THEIR general abuse of women is truly rididiculous they pretend to know them without having ever conversed with any but that unhappy species of them whose minds and manners are a disgrace not only to their sex but to human nature itself Profligates first betray to infamy all the women they can deceive and then by a double injustice judge of the sex from the examples they have made
BUT come my young friend and convince yourself that happiness is to be found in a virtuous connection with an amiable and agreeable woman Order your horses directly I say and leave your gross errors where they should ever remain in Covent Garden
I NEVER was a member of any society at the Shakespear though I have spent some evenings there both pleasantly and innocently I love chearfulness wit and humour wherever to be met with and when Sir James Thornton shall be added to our society at Woodfort I shall not have occasion to go in pursuit of any of them
elsewhere As a farther inducement we shall go to York races I know you have horses to run there Hasten then to Yours sincerely
I ARRIVED in London the day after you left it how unfortunate to have missed the friend of my heart to whom I have a thousand things to communicate that will not bear the cold slow forms of narrative letter writing
BUT one sad truth I must pour into your bosom from mine that almost bursts while I repeat it The lovely the angelic Charlotte Beaumont has fled from these fond arms and taken refuge in a convent I beheld her renounce the pomps and vanities of that world which she was born to adorn None but her kindred angels ever appeared so beautiful as she when led like a blooming sacrifice to the altar
AS she advanced up the isle she caught my eyes she stopt and sighd but quickly recollecting herself turned hers to heaven—then with a ray of that ineffable tenderness with which we may suppose angelic beings look on mortal woes she turned them full on m — •…t ah too soon recalled them and passed along with all the dignity of conscious virtue
How I got out of the convent I know not my senses vanished with her—• was fifteen days delirious and but for the officious kindness of Wilson should not now feel those poignant agonies
that rend my heart O Woodville to lose such a woman by my own folly that fatal duel in what misery has it involved me When I am calm enough if that should ever be I will copy her last letter and send it to you I would not part with the original for worlds though it has destroyed my peace in this
WILL you forgive your wretched friend for breaking in one moment on your present felicity I hear you are completely blessed—This is the only ray of joy that ever can or shall pervade the gloom in which my fate is involved Happy Woodville to triumph over an unhappy passion and now to feel the transports of successful love
BUT let me intreat you as you value your future peace not to see the marchioness Your wounds are not long healed and may all bleed again She is a true Calypso therefore my friend shun her ensnaring wiles and remember you are accountable for the happiness of an amiable and innocent young woman—what a bleach of honour even to hazard it
THIS single consideration will I am certain be a more powerful preservative to your generous heart than all the philosophic reasonings in the world which too well I know were never yet proof against strong passion
I AM truly sorry that I had left London before your arrival—Had you given me the least hint of your intentions to return I should certainly have staid to meet you and I would at this moment fly to pour the balm of friendship into your wounded bosom but that Sir James Thornton whom I have invited to spend some time with me at Woodfort and go with me to York races came here last night
HE is quite a stranger to lady Woodville and all this family and would certainly consider it as the highest breach of hospitality if I were to leave him in the hands of a parcel of virtuous women which are a race of beings that he is totally unacquainted with He is young has a very large fortune and many amiable qualities but his education has been so shamefully neglected that he is in imminent danger of becoming a prey to sharpers and prostitutes
EVEN you must have smiled to have seen this young man who is made up of frolic and vivacity look as frighted and abashed before lady Woodville whose gentleness itself as a young country lady who has never been out of the family mansion when first presented at St Jamess But I hope this timid aukwardness will wear off in a few days and as I know nothing that can refine the sentiments or polish the manners so much as the coversation of elegant women I wish to keep Sir James for some time amongst us
MY cousin lady Hariet Hanbury is here and a very lively girl Miss Weston a near relation of my Emily Your old friend Ransford spends much of his time with us also What would I not give to tempt you hither You shall retire when you please read walk and muse alone and when you are disposed my Emily shall play to you some of the sweetest softest airs the very food of love accompanied with the sweetest softest voice you ever heard Harriet who is of the melancholy cast and I fear unhappily in love shall sigh in concert with you and Thornton and Miss Weston shall sometimes make you smile
I CONFESS to you my dear Seymour that I was both shocked and sorry when I heard that the marchioness was in England Lady Woodville was the first person who informed me of it but utterly ignorant of there having ever been any connection between us she did not perceive my emotion at her name
CRUEL woman does she wish again to disturb the peace of a heart which she had well nigh broken but I defy her power—In lady Woodville I have found all that is amiable in the most lovely sex sensible beautiful gentle kind and unaffectedly good
TRUE she is not mistress of those lively sallies of wit that dazzle the understanding and captivate the heart Her form though lovely has not the striking elegance the nameless numberless graces that wait on every motion of the marchioness
BUT why do I suffer myself to dwell upon her charms or make a comparison injurious to the amiable woman who deserves my love why can I not say who possesses it Ah Seymour it is impossible to regulate the motions of
the human heart by the cold rules of reason Not all the charms of the whole sex combined can ever render mine susceptible of those agonizing transports it has already known Yet let me boast that it is as impossible for her who first occasioned to revive as for any other woman to inspire them
IF this was not the case I should have made a worthless present to my Emily when I gave her both my hand and heart and though I allow the latter not to be an adequate return for hers she shall never be able to discover its deficiency by any word or action of my life This I can safely promise
I HAVE purposely avoided mentioning your lost your lovely Charlotte When you are more at ease I know you will acquaint me with the particulars of your distress Why may not that happy aera be hastened by a reliance on all the tender cares of friendship which you may certainly depend on from
PS You have a house within a mile of York where we have spent many happy days—
Days of ease and nights of pleasure
Who knows but we may there recover our juvenile tastes and passions impossible As well when advanced in life might we hope to recover our youth in those fields where we once were young—But is that house untenanted Will you be our host Or have you lett or lent it
YOUR letter has added to the affliction I am already involved in I think I am fated never to possess any of those blessings without which life is a burthen The object of my fondest tenderest wishes already torn from my bleeding heart there remained yet one consolation a generous and affectionate friend and he in human suicide is going to rob me of himself what an hard lot is mine all that I ever loved devote themselves and by their misery I am twice undone
BUT stop my friend and let my warning voice prevent your rushing down the precipice you must not shall nor see the marchioness I will go to Woodfort though heaven knows how unfit to mingle in society merely to prevent your going to York races—The Syren will be there—
I WENT last night to pay a visit to my sister lady Sandford and there I met your lovely enemy She asked many questions about you but many more about lady Woodville and wanted me to draw her picture I told her that I had not seen her for some years that she was then extremely young but had I thought a very near resemblence to her ladyship which was pronouncing her a perfect beauty
I SAID this to prevent her finding fault which she certainly would have done had I attempted a particular description She saw through my design but would not let me triumph in the success of it then smiling said
Like
me perhaps that was the reason he chose her—Constant creature this is a compliment for which I think myself more indebted to him than for all the fine things he ever said or wrote to me
I HOPE madam his lordship had other motives
O fye lord Seymour how you love to mortify but pray let me indulge my vanity a little As the man is married and to a perfect beauty too there can be no danger in avowing my sensibility of his regards This you know I never did while he was single and I might have hopes But woman have strange caprices
HOWEVER I can assure you I have not the least design upon his heart It would be the height of vanity indeed to attempt rivalling this perfect beauty
It would be the height of cruelty madam but to wish it
I declare I cannot see it in that light my lord for such a woman can never want adorers
Our married ladies madam seek for that character only in their husbands
Nay now my lord you want to impose on me as I am a stranger but you cannot deceive me for I know numberless instances to contradict your assertion and not one to prove it And I really think that London is as much the seat of gallantry as Paris—
YOU see the snare is laid and will you selfdevoted rush into it I know you Woodville you cannot live with loss of honour and it is impossible to preserve yours if in your present situation you can be again drawn in to doat upon this—But I will not abuse her I shall set out for Woodfort to morrow and there enforce every argument I have used to preserve you from yourself
Till then adieu
I CANNOT tell my dearest Fanny how much her last letter affected me nor can I sufficiently express my admiration of that happy turn of mind that enables you to triumph over every difficulty and distress and to rise so far superior to what any one might reasonably expect from the gentleness of your nature on every trial
HOW happy is it for your poor weak Emely that she has had nothing to struggle with she would have sunk beneath the slightest weight and give a loose to tears and to complainings But let the goodness of that allwise Providence who proportions our trials to our strength fill my heart with the warmest gratitude and let me
ever bless and praise his name
I HAVE no sort of doubt but you are eased of all a mothers fears by this time and that the dear little ones are prattling round you with their usual chearfulness while you feel even an additional
tenderness from recollection of the danger they have past
I HAVE very uneasy apprehensions for poor Lucy I almost wish she may not receive the infection—There have been numberless instances of persons who never had the small pox and I think it is like forcing nature to make a second effort
I DETEST Sir James Miller and hope with all my heart he may never be married to Lucy as I am very sure he never will deserve her
OUR family party has received some very agreeable additions since I wrote last There is a most delightful contrast between our visitors Sir James Thornton lively boyish with a good natural understanding totally unimproved without the least idea of good breeding—and yet that want is amply supplied by what I call natural politeness But if
good breeding is the blossom of good sense
we ought to find out some other term for that species of form which is only to he acquired in courts There was such an aukward reserve about poor Thornton for the first three days he spent at Woodfort that I looked upon him as a Hottentot but that rough cast is now worn off and he is really agreeable and entertaining
LORD Seymour our latest guest is really an accomplished gentleman an elegant form and affable countenance bespeak your favour at first sight and his every word and action insensibly engage your regard Yet lavish as nature has been to him there seems to be something wanting to his happiness There is a tender air of melancholy diffused over his whole form with such a softness in his voice and manner as is rarely natural to the gay sons of prosperity His
fortune is ample and his birth high it must then be that source of the most poignant sorrow illfated love that has disturbed his peace Yet I think he could not love in vain unless there was a prior prepossession I long to know his story I feel myself interested as for a brother
HE acquainted my lord with his intentions to visit us the night before he came We were all engaged to dine at Sir Harry Ransfords the next day and her ladyship had got the old knight to consent to her having a ball My lord remained at Woodfort to receive his guest I accompanied the young folks to Sir Harrys—After tea I intreated lady Ransford to excuse my leaving her without taking any notice of it to the company She was so obliging as to consent and I drove home directly
MY lord seemed surprized and pleased at seeing me and as he handed me from the coach said with an air of the utmost tenderness I am much obliged to you for your attention to my friend and can with truth assure you that your company is the only agreeable addition that could be made to our present society My little heart exulted at the kindness of this compliment as to please or oblige him is and ever will be its highest ambition Notwithstanding this I thought my company was a restraint on them and therefore retired soon after supper
IT was four oclock when my lord came up stairs I was miserably apprehensive he was ill as he sighed often and was uncommonly restless But my fears are now fled like a morning dream—He seemed perfectly well at breakfast Lord Seymour and he are gone into the gardens
THE coach is just returned with the boys and girls and Thornton is this moment come
into my dressingroom to tell me all about it as he expresses himself but he is too civil to speak till I leave of writing I must therefore impose silence on myself to relieve him from it and so bid my dear sister
E W
I WAS vastly pleased with my dear Emilys letter—There is infinitely more merit in looking up to the Almighty in our prosperity than adversity Praise is surely the noblest and of course the most acceptable sacrifice that a human creature can offer to the great author of good Mr Addison very justly observes that
a mind which has the least turn to religion naturally flies to it in affliction
We then feel our own insufficiency we are humbled by sorrow and perhaps only then deduce real satisfaction from a thorough conviction that there is a superior Being whose aid is graciously promised to those who sincerely seek it But surrounded by the delights of life youth fortune gaiety and dissipation we too frequently become forgetful of the source from whence our blessings flow and while we are indulging all our appetites in the delicious stream of happiness it becomes impregnated with the qualities of Lethe and renders us unmindful of its fountain
BUT let me be truly thankful that the sister of my love the child of my care is not only
blessed with the insignia of happiness but with a heart capable of the first virtue gratitude which I hope will ensure to her the long and full possession of all earthly good
I NOW can tell my dear prophetess her hopes are accomplished—The mothers fears are lost in the happy certainty of my childrens perfect recovery—But the friend still suffers—poor Lucy continues extremely ill though thank God this day pronounced out of danger The smallpox was as favourable to her as possible but the emotions of her mind on account of that wretch Sir James Miller has thrown her into a violent fever
HE is this day to be married to Miss Nelson This she is yet ignorant of but on the first day that she sat up she received a kind of leavetaking letter from him excusing his perfidy by her want of complaisance to his request Said
he had reason to apprehend that a lady who seemed so little inclined to oblige him before marriage would not make a very complying wife—that he was glad to hear her beauty out of danger as there was no doubt but it would procure her a better husband than him and that he should endeavour to look out for a wife who was less anxious about her features
Was there ever any thing so provoking This is adding insolence to baseness
IF Sir John was here I am sure a duel would ensue—I know not how to act in this affair—I cannot bear the thoughts of his triumphing in his villainy nor yet can I think of hazarding Sir Johns life to punish such a scoundrel Swift says
The occasions are few that can induce a man of sense and virtue to draw his sword
I am certain were he living he would allow 〈◊〉 to be a justifiable one
BUT as a wife and mother I most sincerely hope Sir John may never hear of his infamous behaviour but what excuse to invent for breaking off the match I know not Sir John is jealous of his honour and will inquire minutely into the affair I will refer it all to Lucys prudence she loves her brother and is a christian
YOU are an admirable painter I should have known lord Seymours picture if you had not set the name to it all but that shade of melancholy which you had thrown over it He was extremely lively when I knew him but I have not seen him since his return to England
YOU have made me perfectly acquainted with Sir James Thornton I saw his precipitate stride into your dressingroom and his short stop on finding you were writing It reminded me of the snapping of a watchspring Have you ever had one break in your hand Lucy has just awoke from a refreshing sleep and on being told I was writing she desires to see me immediately—I will return to you again
WHAT an affecting interview That odious idiot Sir James Miller has
like the base Indian thrown a pearl away richer than all his tribe
When I went into Lucys chamber she desired every one to withdraw then taking my hand and pressing it to her lips what infinite trouble must I have given to the compassionate heart of my dear lady Straffon but I hope you do not despise me it was the weak state of my body that overpowered my mind But now that I have recovered my senses I am amazed how I could be affected by the loss of such a man—Did I say loss then I fear I rave again But I grieved for an ideal character and am much obliged to Sir James for removing the mist from before my eyes and shewing himself
in his native colours How happy the delusion vanished so soon Had it continued but a little longer I should have been a wretch indeed What a misery to despise the man whom it is our duty to love and honour Yet such might have been my fate should I have been unpardonably criminal my dearest sister
I INTREATED her not to think upon the subject but to calm her spirits and that I would converse with her on any other topic that she pleased—She begged my attention for a few minutes said she had wandered from her purpose and asked my pardon for detaining me You are writing lady Straffon perhaps to my brother Then raising herself on her knees in spite of my efforts to hinder her let me in this humble posture intreat you my dearest sister not to mention what has passed to Sir John I know his natural bravery joined to his love for an only sister would tempt him to call Sir James Miller to an account—Good God what might be the consequence He has done me no wrong and should any misfortune happen to my brother from this event I could not answer for my senses And were even the aggressor for such indeed he is to fall I never should know peace again
HERE she was quite overcome by weakness and sunk down in a stood of tears I said every thing in my power to assuage her grief and gave her the strongest assurances that I neither did or would mention a syllable of the affair to Sir John She told me then I had restored her tranquility and she should soon be well and able to contrive some plausible pretence to her brother for breaking off the match and as this would be the first falshood she had ever told him she hoped it might be considered as a pious fraud only
AFTER this conversation she grew perfectly composed I left her retired to rest but I fear she has disturbed mine for this night What an amiable heart is hers While yet smarting with undeserved wounds she would preserve the cruel wretch who inflicted them I will religiously keep my promise to her yet cannot help sincerely wishing that his crime may be his punishment and I think he bids fair for being overpaid in kind
MISS Nelson now lady Miller is at least twentynine and has been a remarkable coquette these ten years yet never could catch a poor unguarded fly in her net till Sir James rushed in—She was perfectly acquainted with his attachment to Lucy had requested to be her bridemaid yet could think of separating them for ever May they be mutual avengers of each others perfidy
I FEEL myself in an unchristian mood I cannot help it I pity folly but detest vice Alas my Emily I am too severe for they are in general synonimous terms I will in charity wish you good night for if I write on I shall rail more therefore
F S
I AM so violently provoked at the insolent baseness of that abominable Miller that I cannot find words to express my resentment I do not think you seem sufficiently rejoiced at
Lucys escape from such a monster for my part I am delighted at the thoughts of his being married to such a woman as Miss Nelson—May she render him just as miserable as he deserves to be—His greatest enemy could not wish him worse
BUT there are more wretches in the world than he and Lucy is not without companions in affliction The willow grows on purpose for our sex and were it to be watered only by the tears drawn from beauteous eyes by the perfidy of men it would need no other moisture Poor lady Harriet an accident has discovered the cause of her too frequent sighs
YESTERDAY morning after breakfast when the gentlemen had retired to their seperate amusements lady Harriet Miss Weston and I were in my dressingroom Lady Harriet took up Priors Poems and was reading Henry and Emma to Fanny and me who were at work when in rushed lady Ransford in a riding dress and begged I would permit her to introduce a gentleman an acquaintance of hers whom she accidentally met on the road as she was coming to spend the day with me She concluded he was a particular friend whom she had not seen for a long time I immediately consented and said I was sorry my lord was not at home to receive the gentleman
SHE ran out directly and led in Captain Barnard—While she was presenting him to me the book fell from Lady Harriets hand and she sunk motionless upon the couch As soon as the captain cast his eyes on her he appeared almost in the same condition the colour forsook his lips and he could hardly breathe Lady Ransford looked with a spiteful kind of astonishment and cried out What can all this mean is she subject to fits Fanny and I were engaged in
trying to recover lady Harriet I began to fear in vain—Life seemed for some minutes absolutely fled—The wretched captain looked the picture of despair—The moment she opened her eyes he bowed left the room mounted his horse and rode off
WE conveyed lady Harriet to her chamber and laid her on the bed when a plentiful shower of tears seemed to have relieved her I left Fanny Weston with her and returned to lady Ransford She seemed in a violent passion that the captain was gone—What has he to do with lady Harriets faintings She was very sure it was only an air she gave herself She thanked God she was not subject to such tricks She never fainted in her life and was quite certain she never should c c
I CONGRATULATED her on the goodness of her constitution said lady Harriets was extremely delicate and that she had not been well for some time This did not satisfy her and she continued out of humour at the captains desertion the whole day several times repeating I do not suppose he ever saw her before of what consequence was her fainting to him and I encouraged her in this opinion though far from believing it
I SAID his retiring was a mark of politeness as the presence of a stranger must increase the confusion we were in Nothing that I said could pacify her I therefore suffered her to mutter out her dissatisfaction without replying for the remainder of the time she staid which was not long after dinner—She said she should be afraid to ride with only one servant after it was dusk
I NEVER was better pleased with the departure of a guest I longed to see poor Harriet
who had not left her rooom and flew to her the moment lady Ransford was gone She looked abashed and held down her lovely eyes which were yet bathed in tears when I approached her—but the tenderness with which I inquired concerning her health seemed to reassure her
YOU are too good to me my dear lady Woodville such weakness as mine scarcely deserves your compassion and I can only presume to hope for it by the most unbounded confidence which I should long since have reposed in your friendly bosom but that I thought it cruel even for a moment to interrupt that happiness which you so well deserve But as the accident which happened this day must convince you that there is a secret sorrow which preys upon my heart I will readily acquaint you with the cause of it lest the tenderness of your nature should make you imagine me more wretched than I really am
YOU must suppose my dear said I that your situation this morning alarmed me extremely but I have long thought there was some secret source for that soft melancholy which you vainly endeavour to represent as constitutional But do not let this remark make you think yourself under a necessity of disclosing your secrets to me I am far from desiring to pry into them but should rejoice at having it in my power to do any thing which might alleviate your distress And if my participation of your sorrow can footh it but for a moment it will more than repay me for what I feel in knowing that you are unhappy
SHE said she was not then capable of making the least return to my kindness though perfectly sensible of it but that as soon as she was able she would write out her short story for me and lady Straffon She said Lucy knew something of it but not the whole and desired she might
see it as a kind of consolation under her present circumstances
As soon as I receive I will send it to you Pray present my love to Lucy and tell her I intreat her company at Woodsort whenever she is able to travel Change of air and objects will forward her recovery Why cannot you and the little ones accompany her and complete the wishes of
I THIS morning received the inclosed which has engaged my attention ever since I have but just time to send it to you without the smallest comment but as it may remain longer in your hands I shall expect it to be returned with notes variorum
I HAVE absented myself from our family party which is indeed a charming one except during dinner this whole day I shall return to it with a double gust from a certainty that amiable as they who compose it are in their manners and persons their hearts are still more valuable Haste then my dearest Fanny and Lucy to partake and perfect the most delightful society in the world
The memoir of Lady HARRIET HANBURY
AS the strongest mark of my sincerity and gratitude to my dear lady Woodville for all her kindness to me I sit down to fulfil the voluntary promise I made of acquainting her with the few events of a short life whose duration has only been marked by sorrow and as
to mention is to suffer pain
I chose to save her gentle heart the uneasiness of seeing the distress which the recollection of unhappy circumstances must ever revive where the sufferer is the relater I must now like all biographers step a little back to give you some account of the authors of my being and then proceed with a plain narrative submitting my weaknesses and follies without the least reserve to your friendly eye
MY father was eldest son to the Earl of G— During my grandfathers life he became passionately in love with my mother who was a daughter of colonel Stanleys and reputed one of the greatest beauties of that time My father well knew it would be in vain to hope for the earls consent to his marrying without a large fortune let the merits of the lady be ever so great as his estate was extremely involved and that he had four children by a second wife unprovided for
MY mothers portion was only four thousand pounds but her father who considered her birth beauty and accomplishments as full equivalents to any fortune when he found the earl was not acquainted with my fathers courtship forbade his daughter ever to see her lover more as his pride would not suffer him to have matched her with a prince clandestinely
THE lovers reduced to this unhappy situation after much fruitless sorrow had recourse to the usual alternative and married without consent on either side The affair was not long kept secret and the earl whose rage was without bounds accused the colonel of being privy to the marriage and of drawing in his son—he also lavished every kind of abuse upon my mother and stopt the allowance he had for some years given to my father
THE colonel though highly offended with his daughter resented the cruelty and injustice of the earls behaviour and sent him a challenge—The duel was prevented by my fathers address but the most implacable hatred ever remained between the old gentlemen which communicated itself to every branch of the families except my father and mother who were the most perfect patterns of conjugal tenderness
NOTWITHSTANDING my fathers encreasing fondness for his lovely wife the unhappy feuds which she thought herself the occasion of preyed on her tender mind and so much weakened her delicate frame that giving me life she lost her own—fatal exchange for her unhappy orphan My father was quite distracted at her loss and the colonel who had been reconciled to them both for some time was obliged to restrain his own affliction to endeavour to console my father and engage him to preserve his life by frequently presenting me before him
YES he would then say I will live for the protection of that only transcript of my angel Harriet I will watch over her rising virtues and endeavour to restore to the world some part of that perfection my cruel father has deprived it of
For four years his fondness
for me was unabated and I appeared to be the sole object of his attention and regard
ABOUT that aera the earl wrote to him and a reconciliation soon ensued the terms of which were that as my father had gratified himself by his first marriage he should oblige the earl and serve his family by a second My father whose nature was gentle was soon induced to comply and as I believe his real fondness for my mother had rendered all women indifferent to him the choice of his future lady was entirely left to the earl who you may suppose would rate her value only by her fortune My father paid his addresses in form and even without the least degree of liking on either side the match was concluded
THE perpetual scenes of discord which succeeded to this illsuited marriage are but too public and I have great reason to apprehend that to this constant source of domestic misery I owe the loss of my unhappy father The first cause of disgust my stepmother gave him was her absolutely refusing to let me be brought into the house politely adding that she would not suffer a beggars brat to be brought up with her children who were at least entitled to a fortune by their mothers side and that those who had nothing but their blood to boast of should be bred humble to lower their pride This one specimen is I think sufficient to give you a perfect idea of my poor fathers unhappiness and I shall say nothing more of one who has the honour to bear his name and title
I REMAINED at my grandfathers and was his principal favourite My father continued to see me frequently and notwithstanding his family was increased by the birth of a son and two daughters his fondness for me appeared undiminished—but neither his lady nor the earl ever
took the least notice of me—my fathers sister lady Woodville was extremely kind to me and even pressed my grandfather to let me live with her but he refused to part with the only joy he had on earth and she died before him
WHEN I was about fourteen I was deprived of my affectionate and tender parent the good old colonel—Before he died he recommended me in the most affecting terms to my father who promised every thing in my favour that he could desire but seemed offended that the colonel should think it necessary to plead for his dearest best beloved child the child of his affection the child of his ever adored and lamented Harriet Fully satisfied with these assurances the good old man resigned his soul in peace leaving me all his personal fortune which amounted to about six thousand pound his paternal estate being entailed on a male heir
LADY Anne Westrop who was a distant relation of my mothers invited me to live with her and in the society of this agreeable woman I began to recover my natural chearfulness which had been totally obsorbed by the grief I felt for my grandfathers ill health and death—During a year that we passed entirely at her seat in the country I knew not one moments uneasiness—my mind was like a peaceful ocean whose every motion was uniformly gentle without one ruffling breeze to disturb or deform it yet sufficiently actuated to prevent languor or disgust the stagnation of the soul
How often have I looked back with regret upon this pleasing calm which was alas too soon succeeded by impetuous storms where all my peace was shipwrecked About the end of this happy aera captain Barnard came to pay a visit to his sister lady Anne he is youngest son
to the Earl of W— He was designed for the navy and his father was at that time solliciting a ship which he soon obtained for him I shall not take up your ladyships time by giving you an account of our childish courtship but tell you at once that
A mutual flame was quickly caught
Was quickly too reveald
For neither bosom lodgd a wish
Which virtue keeps conceald
What happy hours of heartfelt bliss
Did love on both bestow
But bliss too mighty long to last
Where fortune proves a foe
IN the midst of these truly Arcadian pleasures the earl my grandfather died which I can by no means say disturbed my happiness but alas it was to be interrupted by a severer shock for my father survived him but eleven days the six thousand pounds which colonel Stanley had bequeathed to me were in my fathers hands his estate was all settled upon the issue of his second marriage and his debts amounted to rather more than his personal fortune so that there remained not a shilling for me even of my grandfathers legacy without going to law with the countess my stepmother who had possessed herself of every thing my father left
I GRIEVED only for his loss that of my fortune appearing then of no consequence my lover seemed to redouble his tenderness for me but thought circumstanced as I then was it would be prudent to conceal our passion as it was highly probable his friends might oppose our union I acquiesced in his opinion and rested all my
hopes of happiness on him—unworthy guardian of that sacred trust
WHEN the time for his leaving the Westhill arrived I then discovered that I had never known sorrow before it was impossible to conceal my anguish and lady Ann Westrop who had taken great pains to comfort me for the death of my father and imagined not without reason that my grief had subsided into a calm and gentle melancholy seemed astonished at the violence of my affliction but I might have answered her with the words of Helena
I think not on my father and these great tears do grace his memory more than those I shed for him
HOWEVER I thought it very lucky that my late misfortune appeared a sufficient cause for my present melancholy which I indulged to such an excess as soon affected my constitution and I was ordered by my physician to Bristol Lady Anne ever kind and affectionate towards me accompanied me thither and Mr Westrop went to London to consult lawyers about the recovery of my fortune
THE frequency and tenderness of captain Barnards letter contributed much more to the restoration of my health than all the waters of those salubrious springs and lady Anne expressed such sincere joy at my recovery that I romantic as I was thought myself bound in honour to acquaint her with the real cause of it I thought concealing any thing from such a friend was acting a lie and in the fullness of my gratitude I poured forth all the secrets of my heart
SHE heard me with that sort of coldness with which one listens to a twice told tale yet at the same time assured me she had never suspected any attachment between her brother and me said she wished for both our sakes we could
conquer our passion for she was certain it could only be productive of misery to both
I WAS equally piqued at her manner and expression and replied with some warmth that as I considered myself under very great obligations to her I would not entail misery on any part of her family let my own fate be what it would She applauded my resolution with the same sang froid with which she had heard my story and I retired from her apartment to my own more humbled and mortified than I had ever been in my life
I PASSED a most restless miserable night sometimes resolving on the highest generosity to break with captain Barnard—the next moment repeating vows of everlasting love—but at all events I determined to quit lady Anne yet whither should I go where fly to a wretched orphan without friends or fortune
THE agitation of my mind at length subsided and towards morning I fell into a profound slumber As I slept much longer than usual I found lady Annes woman by my bed side when I awoke who said she came from her lady to inquire my health and to request that I would go to her immediately
I OBEYED the summons instantly and while I was hurrying on my cloaths flattered myself that she had relented of her unkindness and wished again to restore me to that sisterly affection which she seemed so long to have felt for me and yet to have lost in one moment possessed with this imagination I ran or rather flew to her apartment but on opening the door was surprized to see Lord N— who appeared very earnest in conversation with her ladyship
THIS gentleman had been very particular to me ever since our residence at Bristol he was
young polite and master of a large independent fortune but these advantages had made me rather decline than encourage his acquaintance lest the busy tongues of men or rather women might have pronounced him a lover—an epithet which is of all others most hateful to a delicate preengaged heart
On my entrance the conversation became general Lady Anne affected to treat me with her usual tenderness but I too plainly saw that she only affected it After some little time she withdrew abruptly and left me alone with lord N— A thousand disagreeable things rushed into my mind at once but above all I feared a declaration of love from his lordship which though I was determined to refuse must have distressed me extremely as I could not to the world assign any justifiable cause for my refusal
I ROSE from my seat with trepidation and rang the bell for breakfast I hoped this would be a hint for his lordship to retire—on the contrary he said it was very fortunate for him that I called for tea as he had not touched any thing but a glass of water that day and should have absolutely forgot that eating was necessary if I had not reminded him of it but since I had he hoped I would allow him the honour of breakfasting with me
I COOLLY bowed assent and the moment the tea table was removed said I must retire to put on my riding dress as I had promised to meet a lady on the downs and feared I should keep her waiting Lord N— saw my confusion pitied and believed it by saying he would not trespass farther on my leisure but hoped I would permit him the honour of paying me a visit in the afternoon he did not wait for my reply and I thought myself infinitely obliged to
him for even postponing the embarassment in which I knew I should be too soon involved
AS soon as lady Anne and I were alone after dinner she congratulated me with a serious air on the important conquest I had made enumerated the great advantages of such a match and said she was rejoiced to find by the ease and propriety of my behaviour that the silly prepossession I had talked of the night before had not rendered me so romantically absurd as to reject happiness and lord N— or to persist in embracing misery and captain Barnard
THOUGH I had in some measure prepared myself to hear her speak on this subject yet I could not avoid feeling the utmost surprize at her want of delicacy in mentioning the man whom I professed to love at the same instant that she approved my accepting of another
AS soon as I recovered myself I told her that I was neither intitled to her congratulation or approbation as lord N— had never said any thing upon such a subject to me and that I hoped he never would as I should be very sorry to give him the mortification of a denial but at the same time that I fled from what she called happiness I hoped I should find what I thought so in the consciousness of having acted right for though I never could divest myself of the tenderest attachment to captain Barnard yet I could sacrifice my hopes of any future connection with him to his advantage and her desire
LADY Anne took me at my word praised my generosity and intreated I would take time to consider before I refused lord N— I assured her that delay was unnecessary and as I had a very high esteem for his lordship and was sincerely grateful for the honour he intended me I could not think of trifling with his peace or
meanly accepting a heart because set in gold when it was absolutely impossible for me to make the only return which such a valuable present deserved She called me dear romantic generous girl said she had no doubt but time and reason would conquer my childish passion and that she should rejoice to see me happy with some worthy man but still intreated me not to act precipitately with regard to lord N— as she feared I might never have such another offer
THIS kind of conversation lasted till lord N— came to visit us and I now wished for his making that delaration I so much dreaded in the morning I was determined on the conduct I should pursue towards him and secretly triumphed in the sacrifice I should make to my truly disinterested love for captain Barnard However her ladyship took care that we should not so immediately come to an explanation for she never left us the whole evening Lord N— appeared to be chagrined and I was also extremely mortified that the affair was not brought to a conclusion
THE next day I received a letter from Mr Westrop informing me that my stepmother had consented to give me four thousand pounds rather than stand a law suit for the six which my grandfather left me In consideration of this sum I was to relinquish all farther claim to my fathers fortune and to receive it as a present from her bounty These terms I thought extremely hard but to attempt carrying on an expensive suit without money appeared impracticable It is true Mr Westrop in the most friendly manner offered to advance any sum I might have occasion for but I already felt the weight of my obligation to lady Anne and determined not to increase the load I therefore
complied with these severe conditions but as I was not of age Mr Westrop became security for my part of the contract and the interest of this splendid sum was allotted for my maintenance
ON this occasion lady Anne behaved with the utmost kindness towards me begged I would consider her as my sister and never think of quitting her house till I went to one of my own She made me several valuable presents which I received with the utmost reluctance yet could not refuse as her manner of bestowing them was peculiarly polite and tender In short she did every thing in her power to conciliate that true esteem and affection which her conduct with regard to captain Barnard had for a while restrained
LORD N— soon found an opportunity to disclose his passion for me and I as quickly put an end to all his hopes He thanked me for the generous frankness of my conduct and earnestly intreated to see me as a friend though I had denied him as a lover I readily consented to his request and have ever found him a most amiable and worthy man
I HAD not received a letter from captain Barnard for near a month—He was stationed in the Mediterranean and though determined sa soon as he returned to England to take an everlasting leave of him I grew impatient at his silence and longed to return to Westhill to retrace those paths we had trod together and woo sweet echo to repeat his name I knew lady Anne received foreign letters frequently some of which I supposed were from captain Barnard but as she was silent on the subject of them I did not think it proper to appear inquisitive and some weeks elapsed without suffering that name to pass my
lips which was but too deeply engraved on my heart
AT length the time for our departure came and we arrived at Westhill—The morning after I rose very early in order to indulge the fond idea of revisiting those woods and lawns where I had spent so many happy hours I did not imagine any of the family were stirring and went softly into lady Annes dressing room where all the English poets lay to take a book with me into the garden I started at finding her there Her surprize at seeing me equalled mine but quickly recovering herself she talked of the fineness of the morning which she said had tempted her to leave her bed so soon but that finding the dew was not off the grass she had sat down to write letters
A PROPOS said she I have had one in my possession for you these ten days but as I did not know whether the contents might be perfectly agreeable to you I chose to defer delivering it till we were quite free from observers I flatter myself madam said I that your precaution was unnecessary if as I apprehend the letter comes from captain Barnard Lady Anne replied do not be too sanguine my dear we feel our disappointments in proportion to our expectations True madam I returned but as the height of mine at present extends only to knowing that your brother is well and happy do not protract on that account but be so good to let me have my letter
SHE then presented it to me saying I believe you had better retire to your own apartment before you read it I willingly obeyed but though all this preparation was sufficient to alarm me yet at the sight of those dear well known characters I forgot all that lady Anne had said
and broke the seal with the highest transport But before I had read half the following lines I in reality suffered the transformation which Ovid seigned for Niobe my limbs were petrified nor was the least sign of life or motion remaining in me but my flowing tears
To Lady HARRIET HANBURY
MADAM
THE ingratitude and unkindness of your behaviour towards me deserves such reproahes as I am incapable of making to a person I once truly loved I ought to be thankful for your having cured me of that folly but the manner of your doing it takes away the merit of the obligation
UNWORTHY Harriet you might have ceased to love without betraying and exposing the wretch who doated on you Lord N—s superior rank and fortune were temptations I scarce could hope you should withstand But why ingrate should you despise and ridicule the fondness of that heart where though you have planted daggers there still remains the warmest wishes for your future happiness
It is now above two months since I have heard from you This cruel this alarming silence filled my fond bosom with the tenderest sorrow I had a thousand fears for my loved Harriet I feared some fatal accident might have befallen her I feared every thing that could befall except her breach of vows The fidelity of my own heart prevented that suspicion
But I have done for ever on this subject nor will I longer interrupt your felicity than
to intreat as my last request if you have thought my letters worth preserving that you will immediately deliver them to my sister If ever I return to England and you desire it I will restore yours dear as they once were to my faithful heart which wants not mementos of the faithless Harriet
I HAVE got another ship and shall use all my interest to prevent my return to England Amidst all the perils to which my situation daily exposes me I wished to preserve my life for your sake only but your perfidy has now rendered it of as little value to me as it ever was to you and to die nobly in the service of my country is at present the most earnest wish of
The unfortunate WM BARNARD
I HAD remained for some hours in the situation I have already described when lady Anne sent her woman to call me to breakfast On finding my eyes fixed and my whole frame immoveable Mrs Atkins screamed so loud that lady Anne and Mr Westrop ran into my dressingroom I was immediately put into bed and every care was taken for my recovery A slow fever ensued which I daily hoped would terminate my life and misery but it pleased Providence that I should be reserved for greater woes
AS soon as I was capable of reasoning I found captain Barnard had been imposed upon and felt even more for his sufferings than my own—But who could have deceived him it must be lady Anne But as I was not in a situation to resent such cruelty I thought it most prudent to acquiesce in silence and wait till time the great expounder
of mysteries should clear my innocence She frequently observed that as I was determined to break with him it would be better to let him remain in his error than to come to an explanation that could answer no end as we were to part for ever To this I could by no means agree But alas it was not in my power to oppose her pleasure I neither knew the name of his ship nor the place of his destination and I continued for near twelve months a prey to the most cruel suspense
AT this time lady Anne and Mr Westrop purposed making the petit tour and insisted on my accompanying them—I gladly accepted the offer for I might truly say
I had such perpetual source of disquiet in my own breast that rest was grown painful to me and a state of agitation only could afford me case by rescuing me as it were from myself
THOUGH we spent a month in London to wait for the conclusion of the peace I knew not where to make any enquiry after captain Barnard nor had I a friend to whom I could venture to repeat his name and I set out for Paris much more inclined to enter into the most gloomy solitude than to partake of the pleasures of that gay city
THERE I became acquainted with lord Woodville and there I also met Mrs Bolton who was nearly related to me by my mother—We had been acquainted from our infancy and had a real friendship for each other but her living in Ireland where her husband had a very large fortune had prevented our meeting for three years before She was in a very declining state of health and was going to Montpelier on that account when Mr Bolton was obliged to set out for Ireland on the death of a near relation
AS lady Anne was constantly engaged in the grande monde I spent much of my time with Mrs Bolton and with real sorrow saw that amiable woman growing worse every day—Her physicians at length had her removed to Fontainbleau—Just then lady Anne grew weary of Paris and resolved to pursue her route Poor Mrs Bolton shed a flood of tears when I talked of quitting Paris and intreated me not to leave her
a helpless stranger in a foreign land
Even her own maid had married one of the gens darmes and lest her so that he had not a creature about her that had the least regard or tenderness for her She said a few days would put an end to the arduous task she required from my friendship that of closing her dying eyes but that if Mr Bolton should return before that happened her carriage and servants should convey me to lady Anne or wherever I desired
THERE was no resisting her importunities and lady Anne though dissatisfied at my stay applauded the nobleness of my friendship and took a very affectionate leave of me I saw her get into a carriage with sincere regret I considered myself as torn from one who had been the friend and protectress of my youth Her cruelty was forgot and every act of kindness she had ever shewn me returned with double force into my memory and my heart and eyes overflowed with grateful tenderness
I WAS waiting in this situation of mind for Mrs Boltons chariot to carry me to Fontainbleau when captain Barnard entered the room I will not pretend to describe the emotions of my heart in short they were too strong for my reason and suspended all its powers—Never sure was such a meeting The extremes of love surprize resentment joy all operated on me
HE was all penitence and love kneeled at my feet and bathed my hand with tears pleaded the violence of his distracted love in excuse for the cruel letter he had wrote when he believed me false and uttered the most solemn vows that it I would again receive his heart which never had strayed one moment from me no power on earth should ever part us more but if I refused to accept his love he would instantly give up the command of his ship and retire to some part of the world where he should never be heard of
I WILL frankly confess that all my tenderness for this unworthy man returned and I even thought I loved him better than I had ever done before He was then of age and master of himself there remained therefore nothing to oppose our wishes for I own them mutual but the obligations I was under and the voluntary promise I had made to lady Anne This objection he treated as romantic but said he would gratify my delicacy in this particular and engaged to obtain her free consent
HE attended me to Fontainbleau and visited me there every day during two months that my amiable friend continued to languish—At the end of that time she was released and left me in sincere affliction Mr Bolton returned a few days before her death and some time after made me a present of part of her jewels to the amount of two thousand pounds—I would have declined so valuable a gift but it was my dear Mrs Boltons dying request that I should have them
AT captain Barnards earnest intreaty I returned to Paris where he still continued to sollicit our marriage and I to refuse till he had fulfilled his promise with regard to lady Anne—
At length •he extorted one from me that even her opposing it should not prevent our union and in an oblique manner confessed that she had been the cause of that letter which had given me so much pain by her misrepresentation of my conduct at Bristol He that can please is certain to persuade and I at last acquuesced in his request
HE would not hear of my returning into England till we were married I had no parents consent to ask and he had wrote to the chaplain of his ship to come and marry us Seemingly possest with the tenderest passion that ever warmed a human heart he set out for Aix la Chapelle where we supposed lady Anne to be but unluckily she had left it two days before captain Barnard arrived and was then returning to England Thither the captain followed I was extremely concerned at this disappointment but it was only on account of the additional trouble and fatigue he was to undergo
HE wrote to me the very post nay I was sometimes so happy as to receive two or three letters wrote at different times of the same day filled with the language of love with fond complaints of absence and vows never to leave me more
HOWEVER blinded as I was by my own passion I could not help perceiving that when he had been some time in England the stile of his letters began to change though he still continued to complain of the cruel necessity that detained him but not in that charming plaintive stile which used at once to soften and delight my heart
THREE months passed away in this manner during which time I received a cold but civil letter from lady Anne congratulating me on
the constancy of my lover and thanking me for the needless compliment I had paid her as she was perfectly convinced we were too much in love to follow any persons advice but our own—Notwithstanding this she very sincerely wished my happiness whether I should or should not become her sister
AS I found captain Barnards return was still protracted by his fathers ill health and many other reasons that did not appear to me sufficient I began to be uneasy at my situation—A single wowan without friends or relations in such a place as Paris was by no means in an eligible state—I had some acquaintance and those of distinction who received me on lady Annes account without inquiring into the motives of my stay but I felt a consciousness that their civilities were more the effect of politeness than esteem which rendered me unhappy and I wrote to captain Barnard requesting his permission to return to England if he did not intend to come to Paris immediately
MY letter lay sealed and directed on my dressingtable when lord N— came to make me a visit and casting his eyes on the letter said I might spare myself the trouble of sending it to the postoffice as he had that moment met captain Barnard in a very fine equipage My heart sunk in me at this news—Yet I still flattered myself that lord N— might mistake some other person for him and was earnest in persuading his lordship that he was deceived when the captains servant brought me the following card
IF lady Harriet H— will be at home and alone this evening captain Barnard will if agreeable do himself the honour of waiting on her at six oclock
THE surprize I had been in before was augmented by this extraordinary message I however sent word I should be glad to see him and passed the intermediate hours in endeavouring to prepare myself for that fatal change which was already but too visible but which I was utterly unable to account for
AT the appointed time he came and endeavoured to assume a sort of formal tenderness accompanied with an air of gravity and mystery I could not long endure such a cruel state of suspense and pressed to know what it was that affected him he told me he was the most miserable man breathing that all his schmes of happiness were blasted but that he never could have resolution to tell me how they were so—called me dear suffering angel kissed my hand and wept—
I CANNOT describe the emotion of my heart I longed yet feared to know what all this meant and at length told him that if he did not wish to make me extremely unhappy he would explain this enigma He said he had great reason to fear that satisfying my inquiries would render me yet more wretched even than doubt could do and if the secret could be kept for ever from me he would die rather than reveal it But I must know it and he who was a sharer in the misfortune would tell it with most tenderness
HE then conjured me to summon all the love I ever had for him that it might incline me to pity and pardon a wretch that had undone himself in short he told me that his friends had prevailed on him to marry Miss S— whom he unfortunately met at Aix la Chapelle and accompanied to London—that at the moment he received her hand the icy one of death would
have been more welcome that his heart did and ever should adore me and only me
HE had knelt by my side while he told this fatal story and when he finished it wept extremely To his amazement not one sigh or tear escaped me I rose immediately and wished him joy then rung the bell to order my chariot he remained immoveable I begged he would rise before the servant entered—he obeyed but implored me not to leave him said it was impossible that I could really be so indifferent as I appeared that he was prepared to meet my anger or my sorrow but could not bear contempt
I TOLD him that was at present my predominant sentiment and the sooner he retired from it and put an end to this interview the better and which I would take care should be our last He vowed he would never leave the spot where he again prostrated himself till I pronounced his pardon I told him this was adding insult to injury but since he would not quit my apartment I should
I THREW myself into my carriage and suffered myself to be carried to the marchioness de St Aumonts—there I met lord Woodville and lord N— who both remarked that I looked extremely ill and advised me to leave the assembly and return home And I soon found myself really so that I was obliged to follow their advice
I WENT immediately to bed without speaking a syllable even to my maid who observing so sudden a change in my manners and appearance sat up in my dressingroom The heroism of my conduct towards captain Barnard had flattered my pride and kept up my spirits while he was present but I was no sooner alone than I felt all the weight of my misfortunes and the
agitation and distraction of my mind threw me into convulsions My maid had immediate help for me but all the art of the best physicians in Paris could not restore my senses for fifteen days—happy interval delightful recess from agonizing sorrow
AT length their cruel kindness triumphed so far as to restore my reason—but good God in what a shattered plight did it return and to what a poor defaced and wretched habitation my disorder was generally believed to be a malignant fever but doctor L— who understood the maladies of the mind as well as body and was acquainted with my attachment to captain Barnard contributed to the recovery of the latter by administering consolation to the former much more than all the art of medicine could have done I soon discharged all my physicians but him who only knew the source of my complaint and to his skill and tenderness am I indebted for the preservation of this wretched being
DURING my illness lord Woodville and lord N— behaved like brothers to me—they both visited me daily and endeavoured but in vain and unknowing of the cause to dissipate that melancholy which will for ever prey upon my heart My mind was so much weakened that I determined to go into a convent and flattered myself that in that calm retirement I should find peace and rest I fancied I might there retain the tenets of my own religion only conforming externally to theirs
I COMMUNICATED my project to doctor L— who soon convinced me that peace dwells not in a cloister but that even those holy retreats are filled with vain wishes and tumultuous passions and that it would be making a mockery
of all religion to pretend to embrace theirs unless I could do it sincerely
WHILE I remained in a very weak and languishing condition a gentleman called frequently to enquire my health but as he refused to leave his name I guessed it was some person sent by captain Barnard and was therefore not the least inquisitive about him At length he desired to be admitted to see me saying he had something of importance to communicate
I CONSENTED and after the common civilities were over he took a pacquet out of his pocket and presenting it to me said he hoped that would be an acceptable present It was directed in an unknown hand but as I hesitated about receiving it he said I had nothing to fear from the contents and he would call for my answer the next day and instantly left the room
THE Pacquet contained a long letter from captain Barnard filled with vain excuses for his falsehood and passionate intreaties that I would again suffer him to plead his pardon at my feet—he expressed the most poignant sorrow for my illness and begged I would at least permit him to repair the injuries he had done me as far as it was possible by accepting an unlimited power over that fortune to which he had sacrificed his love honour and happiness and as a proof of my forgiveness requested I would receive an enclosed bill for five hundred pounds but if my pride should still reject his penitence he desired I would return his letters by the gentleman that was the bearer of that
THIS fresh insult roused all my resentment against him and I passed a restless night counting the clock and with impatience waiting for the hour when I should restore his insolent present with the scorn it merited
AT length his ambassador arrived and either was or seemed to be surprized when I acquainted him with the purport of the letter he had brought me and made many apologies for having unwittingly offended—said the affair between captain Barnard and me had been represented in a very different light to him that he understood there had been a slight quarrel between us and that the letter he brought was to be the means of a reconcilement
CRUEL Barnard merciless man was it not enough to make me wretched why should he endeavour to make me infamous also I returned the note and put the letter which had enclosed it into the fire As to those I had formerly received from captain Barnard I told his friend I would readily part with them when he should have restored mine but as I had no reason to have the least reliance on his word I would not give them out of my possession on any other terms He applauded my resolution and retired
I LONGED impatiently to leave Paris and fancied I should recover my peace by quitting the scene of my unhappiness—I was obliged to part with some of the jewels which Mrs Bolton had left me to defray the expences of my illness and journey and in a state of the lowest weakness both of mind and body I returned to London
ON my arrival I found that a maiden aunt of my fathers who had never taken the least notice of me during her life had bequeathed me her whole fortune ten thousand pounds merely because I was her namesake and unprovided for by my father This was a very happy addition to my confined circumstances but I was incapable of joy and continued to live like a recluse till
lord Woodvilles return to England—He soon found me out and did me the honour to present me to lady Straffon and his lovely Emily
IN this charming society I began to recover my tranquility and flattered myself that it was well nigh established till the unlucky accident which brought captain Barnard to my sight convinced me that there is no cure for illfated love since neither the cruelty I have experienced nor time itself have yet been able to conquer it
I WILL not now my dear lady Woodville take up more of your time by apologizing for the weakness of my conduct through this unhappy affair for
With thee I scorn the low constraint of art
And boast the graceful weakness of my heart
I HAVE a thousand thanks to give my dear Emily for the pleasing though melancholy entertainment which lady Harriets history has afforded me—When I was very young I used to be surprized that so many tragedies and novels were founded on the perfidy of men but I have for some years past been perfectly convinced that most of the miseries in this life owe their being to that fatal source And were there but a window in every fair bosom in the cities of London and Westminster we should discover numberless hidden traces of the barbarous triumphs of those doughty
Heroes famous and
renowned for wronging innocence and breaking vows
and among this detestable corps I think captain Barnard might lead the van and Sir James Miller bring up the rear
YOU may see by this disposition that I think worse of the captain than the baronet as I think lady Harriet much more unhappy than Lucy However I sincerely hope they may both surmount their afflictions for time and reason can do more in these cases than the sufferers are willing to allow They are patients that do not wish to be cured and find a degree of pleasure in indulging their malady
I AM of opinion that when disappointed love subsides into a calm and gentle melancholy its sensations may not only be pleasing to the persons that feel it but render them more amiable than they would otherwise be by giving a peculiar softness both to their form and manners I think I should be more apt to fall in love with a person so circumstanced than with one who had never felt la belle passion
I HAVE great pleasure in telling you that Lucy daily gains strength both of mind and body and I by no means despair of a perfect cure The most favourable symptom is her not having mentioned Sir James these two days yet have I not once restrained her on the subject as she has lately spoke of him with great calmness I have not yet shewn her lady Harriets memoir—Tenderness like sorrow is contagious and the similitude of their situations might call forth tears which though set down to the account of friendship would certainly flow from her own sympathy
IT is utterly impossible for me to have the pleasure of visiting Woodfort this summer—I expect Sir John in a very few days—As soon as he arrives
we shall go into Essex—I do not think Lucy sufficiently recovered to quit her nurse as she calls me—My little Emily and Edward are quite well and surprizingly grown since their illness
I LONG to know what became of captain Barnard the day he left you and what connexion he coud have with lady Ransford who from your account seems not to be one of those who were born to weep over the willow
I SUPPOSE you will soon set out for York—The lovely marchioness is to be there—Is lady Lawson to be of your party I could wish she were as I fear my dear Emily may not be sufficiently attentive to her present situation—Let me entreat you not to ride and to dance but little My true love attends your lord and with good wishes to all your party I am affectionately
Yours F STRAFFON
I AM not half satisfied with my dear Fannys no comment on lady Harriets affecting story—By making the case general you seem inclined to lessen the calamity—But a plague is a plague though ten thousand or only one thousand die of it and by extending its dominion you encrease the fatality without abating our compassion for particular sufferers
AGAIN and again I say what a blessed happy creature is your Emily Had my dear lord after gaining trifled with my heart his triumph
would soon have been complete for I really think the first wound must have subdued it But he who has penetration enough to see the softness of my nature has also generosity sufficient to prevent my very wishes and seems to have no fear but want of power to gratify them This is a theme on which my grateful heart could dwell for ever but not to tire you I shall change the subject
I FIND lord Seymour vastly averse to our going to York—He has taken so much pains to dissuade me from it that if I had not promised Fanny Weston and Sir James Thornton whose hearts are set on going I should find great pleasure in sacrificing my own inclination to his lordship—Yet he gives no solid reason for our declining his party—I perceive that my lord looks grave when the subject is mentioned of course it is immediately dropped and I find the boys and girls will be conquerors—Even the grave lady Harriet and Mr Ransford seemed to be alarmed while the matter appeared doubtful
I THINK I have as little curiosity as any of my sex yet I confess myself anxious to know lord Seymours motive—He is a man of such excellent understanding and true politeness that I am astonished at his thinking differently even upon this trifling subject from my lord But avaunt thou first female vice curiosity I will not suffer thee to harbour one moment longer in my breast thou inhospitable tenant disturber of the peaceful mansion that receives thee
LADY Lawson will not accompany us to York she has been confined to her chamber for some days with a fever on her spirits A young lady whom she took into her house a distressed orphan five years ago and treated with
the utmost tenderness has just left her This is unlucky as she is ill and alone Sir William set out for London yesterday without calling upon us
THE moment I have quitted one dear sister I shall fly to the other and spend as much time as I possibly can with her Should she continue ill it will prevent my going to York I shall be only sorry for the occasion for I have lost all relish for the party
I KNOW not what became of captain Barnard the day he left us but I hear he is a constant visitor at Ransfordhall—The old knight is laid up in the gout and her ladyship acts in the double capacity of master and mistress of the family
I HOPE Sir John is by this time returned to you full of love and joy and admiration at your amazing prowess with regard to his children and that you are all as happy as you deserve and I
Amen and adieu
A thousand loves to Lucy
AS I have been used from my infancy to your tender participation of all my pains and pleasures I could not resist my inclination of sending you the inclosed which afforded me the most charming melange of both that I have ever met with I am proud and pleased that the writer was a woman but cannot help lamenting that such noble sentiments such an elegant turn of mind and above all such tender sensibility should be buried in a cloister
NOW for the means by which I obtained this treasure—Yesterday evening after tea the conversation turned on the subject of letterwriting Lord Seymour advanced and was seconded by my lord that ladies in general wrote better in the epistolary stile than men—As I looked upon such a declaration rather as a compliment paid to the present company than their real sentiments I took up the argument and though they mentioned several instances of charming female scribes all of whom I admire as much as they yet would I not allow the merit general—for those very persons whom they quoted are or ought to be as much distinguished from the rest of their sex for their superior talents as lady C— or the dutchess of H— for their uncommon beauty
LORD Seymour politely called me an heretic against self conviction said he had observed my frequent use of the pen and was persuaded that no person with half my understanding was
ever fond of writing who was not conscious of writing well I told his lordship if the conversation became particular there must be an end of the general argument He bowed and went on with repeating some passages from female letters which did honour to his taste and with which we were all charmed
HE then told us that he had a letter in his pocket which he looked upon to be the chef daeuvre of female eloquence that he had found it as he was one morning taking a solitary walk in the Tuilleries that he would permit me to read it provided I would candidly give him my opinion whether I thought any man living could dictate such a letter On my promising to be sincere he took it out of his pocketbook presented it to me with a trembling hand and left the room
WHEN we met at supper I was lavish in its praise and declared that I doubted whether even Rousseau could have wrote more tenderly He seemed delighted at my conversation and immediately complied with my request to suffer me to take a copy of it for you and you only
I IMPATIENTLY long to know something more of the ladys history—I cannot be persuaded that it was mere accident which put it into lord Seymours hands—But I will not detain you from the perusal of it by my vague conjectures—I shall however satisfy your curiosity in a more material point by letting you know lady Lawson is better—I am to dine with her têteátête tomorrow
I SHALL claim great merit for this volunteer I hope Lucy continues well I earnestly wish to know what apology you have made for that worthless idiot Sir James Miller to Sir John
Pray write very soon a very long letter to
THE LETTER
AFTER a conflict of four months the mildest moment of which sad time was infinitely more painful than that which shall separate this feeble frame from its perturbed spirit I sit down to bid an everlasting adieu to him who was far dearer than the first and long maintained the scale in equal balance with the latter Did I say was alas he is and ever will be dearer than my life which I would sacrifice a thousand times rather than wound his heart as I now must
UNHAPPY Henry what pangs what anguish will now rend thy bosom when thou shalt be convinced thou never hadst a rival in thy Charlottes love Even heaven itself yielded its claim to thee and my fond heart adored the Maker in his most perfect work thy charming self Such in thy Charlottes eyes didst thou appear till thy relentless jealousy pursued and would have robbed of life—no rival Henry but thy Charlottes brother
HOW will amazement strike thee My sad heart bleeds for thine Involved in mystery and mysery from my birth this truth could not have reached you sooner nor could I possibly reveal the secret and brand with cruelty and guilt the authors of my wretched being
RECALL the fatal evening to your mind when that accursed jealousy infused its venom first into your bosom—what pains did I not
take to counteract the poison how was the innocent young man astonished at your behaviour remember the last words I ever uttered to you—My dearest Henry let not appearances disturb your mind I can and will account for every action of my life to you—let your servant attend at the grate tomorrow for a letter from me and you shall be fully satisfied
AH Henry how could you doubt her truth who never yet deceived you by what you now must feel judge what I felt when word was brought me you had killed my brother that he survives for your sake and my own I bow my heart to heaven Ah what uncommon misery were mine were I compelled to hate you No Henry I am not so wtetched I may love you still without a crime most truly love you and every prayer that I address to Heaven may wast petitions for your true felicity
TOMORROW I renounce the world vain ceremony Alas I have renounced my Henry before—This is my last adieu—May every saint and angel bless protect and guide you to that heaven where we may once more hope to meet—Till then farewell for ever—
I AM vastly obliged to my dear Emily for her two last letters—her volunteer was delightful—that angelic nun has almost broke my heart—it is impossible she can be happy in a cloister
and I very much doubt whether those fine feelings which she seems to have would not have rendered her rather more miserable had she remained in the world May she soon arrive at that place where the highest sensibility must be productive of the highest happiness
YOU will perhaps think me cruel for wishing her death but indeed my dear sister there is scarce a man living who could deserve such a heart as hers not even lord Seymour to whom I believe it devoted If I read aright I am trully sorry for his misfortune he has sustained an irreparable loss
I DARE say your lord is acquainted with the whole story and as I am persuaded that lord Seymour is incapable of a base or mean action he may perhaps be prevailed on to satisfy your curiosity—but if he once declines it press him no farther As you value his peace and your own never lay him under the painful necessity of refusing any thing to the woman he loves nor let him ever see you have a wish ungratified Believe me Emily more women lose their husbands hearts by what they call carrying their point and teizing a good natured man into compliance than any other way
THE first part of this letter like the Gazette has been devoted to foreign affairs now for domestic—Sir John returned last week in perfect health and spirits from Paris I did not suffer the children to appear till I acquainted him with my bold undertaking—at first he looked surprized and terrified but immediately recollecting himself said that from his Fannys countenance he was certain our joint treasure must be safe At that instant the little animals flew into his arms I cannot describe the charming scene
but it was as you say all
love and joy and admiration
LUCY came next she had summoned all her spirits to meet her brother but in spite of all her resolution a wayward tear stole down her lovely cheek To our mutual surprize Sir John took not the least notice of her soft confusion nor asked a single question about Sir James Miller Lucy was vastly happy at his seeming inattention but it alarmed me much more than if he had spoken upon the subject
A LITTLE time after he withdrew into his closet and wrote at letter—his servant returned as we were sitting down to dinner and told him the gentleman was not at home During our meal I felt the utmost anxiety but durst not speak Lucy was the exact resemblance of Shakespears patience on a monument
smiling at grief
Sir John appeared to be perfectly at ease chearful and lively
I OBSERVED to him that he talked much and eat little He pressed my hand with unaffected tenderness and said the joy he felt at seeing us all had quite absorded any thought of himself but that nature would soon return to its old bent and bid me beware of my beef and mutton tomorrow
I KNEW the loss of appetite to be a common effect of joy and therefore endeavoured to persuade myself that all was well When we arose from table he said he had some business to transact for a gentleman in Paris but that he shoud return to tea and desired Lucy to have her voice and harpsichord in tune to sing him some new songs he then put on his sword and walked briskly out of the house
LUCY and I remained for some moments petrified we could neither speak nor lok at each
other—at length she arose and with a slow peace and downcast looks advanced to where I sat then fell upon her knees before me and bathed my hand with her fastfalling tears I could not bid her rise but sunk down by her and joined in fervent prayer for my husband and her brothers safety
A THOUSAND times the dear unhappy girl implored my pardon as though she were the guilty cause of what I did or might hereafter suffer Her anguish seemed unutterable and alarmed and distressed as I then was I found it absolutely necessary to conceal my own fears and speak peace to her distracted tortured mind
IN less than an hour Sir John relieved us from this shocking state—at the transporting sound of his voice we endeavoured to compose ourselves—Lucy flew to open the door of the parlour where we had remained during his absence she rushed into his arms and fainted there The strong transition overpowered her every faculty and it was a considerable time before she shewed any signs of life I do not blush to tell you that Sir John wept over his beloved sister
AS soon as she had power of articulation she gazed intently on her brother and exclaimed Where is the unhappy man and do I see my dearest brother safe and unstained with blood
MY dear Lucy Sir John replied calm your spirits—you need have no apprehensions either for Sir James Miller or for me—he is fallen below my resentment and you might have been assured from the first that any man who dared to treat a woman ill must be a coward in his heart
BUT did you meet cried Lucy No said Sir John and I will answer for it we never shall
if he can avoid it and I promise you I shall not seek the wretch
BUT pray Sir John said I how came you acquainted with his ungenerous behaviour As vice and folly are generally connected replied Sir John he was weak enough to inform against himself by a letter which he wrote to me at Paris some time after his marriage and concluded it with presenting lady Millers compliments and hoping that notwithstanding what had passed we might still be friends and live upon good terms
IN my answer I told him that though sighting had formerly been my profession I was neither a bully nor a bravo and if he could acquit himself with honour of a breach of faith to a woman of unquestioned merit I was ready to accord him the friendship he desired but as I looked upon that to be impossible I hoped he would at least be ready to afford me the only satisfaction that remained in his power to offer or mine to receive That I should leave Paris in a few days and call upon him as soon as I arrived in London
I SAW his servant near this house when I alighted and I have reason to think he was placed there to watch my coming as Sir James and his lady set out in a few minutes after for Paris And I think there now ramains nothing but to wish my dear Lucy joy of her escape from such a contemptible animal
I AM indeed my dear brother said Lucy truly joyful—what a wretch should I have been if any misfortune had befallen you on my account how could I ever have looked upon my more than sister or her little ang•… babes Sir John and I endeavoured to change the subject but Lucy frequently recurred to it
AH Emily her wounds are not yet healed
We spent the evening in a kind of pleasing melancholy—though our hearts were at peace our spirits were too much agitated to be chearful I proposed our setting out for Straffon Hill next day but Sir John seemed inclined to stay for a few days longer As I have now no apprehensions from Sir James Miller I can have no objection though I confess I long for pure air and peace two charming things which are never to be found in a great city
I CONGRATULATE you on lady Lawsons recovery How does poor lady Harriet Have you civilized Sir James Thornton I mean has he yet fallen in love What is Fanny Weston doing I shall think her much to blame if she does not make a conquest—the country is the place to inspire sentiment—in London we think of nothing but outward shew—happiness is intirely out of the question May it long continue to reside at Woodfort sincerely wishes
Your F STRAFFON
PS What an amazing long letter but I am never tired of conversing with you—Sir John and my Lucy and my babes all send you their loves
YOU very aptly compare your last letter to a newspaper which records facts indiscriminately—how could you possibly think of
the charming nun however engaging or affecting her situation and thence proceed to a sober lecture on matrimony before you mentioned events so interesting as those which related to Sir John Lucy and yourself you are certainly a perfect stoic and I begin to fear you will soon be above
lifes weakness and its comforts too
You see how gladly I lay hold of the first opportunity I ever had to criticise on you I have no doubt but you will explain away all my objections by next post but in the mean time I shall fully enjoy that self given consequence and superiority which we all assume when we take the liberty of condemning another persons conduct
BUT to be serious both my lord and I are charmed with Sir John—his tenderness for his amiable sister sets his bravery in the strongest light—and you really did not blush to record it my dear Fanny must have a great deal of effiontery notwithstanding her modest countenance and her meek air I am in such high spirits at the happy conclusion of this disagreeable affair that I cannot command my pen to write one rational line
YES it shall tell you that all this family congratulate our dear Lucy and you but more particularly her on her lucky escape from that contemptible wretch Sir James Miller and though we all hope and believe ourselves to be very good christians there is not one of us would lament his untimely end if he should be detected in picking pockets in Paris and make his exit at the Greve
AND so my dear wise sister very prudently warned me against teazing my lord—it was a proper caution and I shall use it—am not I very obedient but she left me at full liberty to torment
any one else—I shall use this latitude also To begin—I must inform you that I am in full possession of the history of our lovely nun and unrestrained from communicating it to you yet shall I not gratify your curiosity which I am certain is as great as mine until you are brought to confess it and provoked to say Psha Emily how can you be so teizing
I MUST now hasten to your queries as we are going to dine at lord Witherss four miles off I have prevailed on lady Lawson to be of the party Sir William is not returned from London yet I do believe Sir James Thornton is in love though we cannot guess with whom He is lately become thoughtful and reserved we rally him on his gravity and tell him he is
proud melancholy and gentleman like
though he has lost his chearfulness his good humour is invincible and he strives to laugh whenever he thinks we wish he should
I MUCH fear that Cupid has played at crossbow amongst our young folks and dealt out lefthanded arrows I fear poor Fanny Weston is a stricken deer and am apprehensive that the hand which gave will never heal the wound She sits whole evenings alone in her chamber listening to an Aeolian harp and sometimes looks as if she had been in tears She says she will go to London from York but I fancy she may as well return to Woodfort as all our male inmates will have left us
LORD Seymour talks of going to the hot wells at Bristol in a few days and Sir James Thornton goes from York to his own seat in the West Lady Harriet continues pretty much the same except when captain Barnard is mentioned which happens too frequently as he still visits at lady Ransfords
Once more adieu
StraffonHill
IT is a remark much to the honour of human nature that happiness creates benevolence I am therefore pleased with the illustrating it by telling you that the calm and rational delight I receive from my present happy situation has rendered my mind so placid and serene as to prevent my resenting your ladyships sarcastical comment on my last letter Au contraire I am pleased at your becoming a critic as I think you want a little of that self given consequence which is sometimes necessary to give us weight with others
BUT now to prove to you that I am not stoic enough to be indifferent about your good opinion I must inform you that the first part of my last letter was wrote a few minutes before Sir Johns arrival the remainder the day after And as I know my dear Emilys weak spirits are too apt to be alarmed I chose to proceed in continuation in hopes that by seeming to treat the matter lightly I might prevent her apprehensions and this remarkable instance of my delicacy has her
pretty little ladyship construed into a total want of feeling But you love faire la guerre and now look to yourself
I NEVER pretended to be devoid of curiosity it is a passion inherent to our natures and properly conducted may be productive of every good—It is the source of knowledge and in my mind the strongest mark of distinction between the rational and brute creation—It is our birth right descended to us from our first mother—You will perhaps say it is an inheritance we might have dispensed with as it has certainly cost us too dear yet as I have already said if well cultivated it is a fruitful soil but in the hands of the weak or the idle it can bring forth nothing but weeds or thorns
AGAINST this kind of produce I warned my Emily and still warn her lest they at any time should wound her tender heart I frankly confess myself interested in the fate of your lovely nun but instead of saying as you would have me Psha Emily how can you be so teizing I shall say Pray Emily do not be teizing but write me a full and true account of every circumstance you know relating to the charming vestal and of every thing else that you think can afford any entertainment to
Your affectionate sister F STRAFFON
WHAT a triumph for such a little insignificant animal as me to be able to ruffle the calm dignity of a female philosopher I shall begin to think myself of some consequence rather of more weight than the fly upon the chariot wheel For indeed my dear Fanny notwithstanding your efforts to disguise it you were a little chagrined at the small attempt towards pertness which I ventured to make in my last letter and in truth you wise ones when once thrown off your guard make as foolish a figure as any of us simpletons
I HAVE heard it said that a person who never learnt to fence shall be able to disconcert the greatest master of that noble science nay more may possibly kill him by a random pass while he stands in the best posture of defence and is aiming at his antagonist in all the profundity of quarte or tierce Just such a scrambling combatant have you to deal with who without the least skill in the art of logic presumes to enter the lists with your wise ladyship
AND so Fanny curiosity is now become a virtue
productive of every good the source of knowledge the distinguishing mark of rationality an inheritance descended to us
c And yet poor Emily is not to be allowed the use of this treasure but to be deprived of her birthright and treated as an absolute alien to our grandmother Eve Is not this a little hard
BUT now what says my philosophy to this severe treatment I think I see you laugh at that expression But pray madam is not the great
use and end of that exalted study to render us happy by perfectly acquiescing in our own lot and wisely contemning all those advantages that are denied us Grant me but this and I will immediately prove myself a philosopher by shewing you how differently we think in regard to this same treasure called curiosity which I am not permitted to have any share of
AND first I absolutely deny that it ever was or can be productive of good Au contraire I have scripture on my side to prove that it was the original cause of every physical and moral ill that has happened in this world for I know not how many thousand years You say
it is inherent to our natures
Fie Fanny Could the Author of good then have punished dame Eve and all her descendants merely for following the bent of that nature he had himself endued her with—Impossible
I SAY it was the devil who first introduced it into paradise and infected poor Eve for it certainly is contagious and never to be eradicated From her then it has descended to all her offspring not as an inheritance though but rather as an uncancellable mortgage upon their natural patrimony
YOU say
it is the source of knowledge
There again my dear you are unluckily mistaken—Pride is undoubtedly the first motive for not to be wise but to be thought wiser than our neighbours is the great reward A distinguishing mark of rationality You are really no philosopher lady Straffon—Have you never seen a dog or cat raise up their ears and listen with all the avidity with which an old maid hearkens to a scandalous report of some blooming beauty of eighteen Indeed my dear you must have observed this frequently and I am
firmly persuaded that those animals I have mentioned are just as instinctively curious as any dutchess in Christendom
I THINK I have now fairly demolished all your arguments in favour of this precious commodity but as you boast the possession of it which I believe no woman ever did but yourself I will shew myself the paragon of good nature and gratify the weakness I condemn by telling you the history of our amiable nun
HOW unlucky now for your poor dear curiosity Lady Ransford has this moment alighted—I must fly to receive her and bid you
AND so my pretty little Bizarre you are really delighted at having ruffled a female philosopher and from thence are determined to derive selfconsequence Helas ma pauvre enfant How grieved am I to mortify by undeceiving you for I cannot help informing you though I know it to be cruel that I have never been so much pleased with any of your letters as your two last
BROUGHT up from your early infancy with a high deference for my opinions which for some years past I have wished you to shake off lest it should prevent the free use of your own understanding and occasion your receiving notions upon trust without giving yourself the trouble of examining them I am delighted to
find that my dear Emily will though in pure badinage exert her reason and argue it not logically at least ingeniously
GO on my lively opponent and push the mock war between us as far as it will go though inded you have left me little to say on the subject of curiosity except that it was certainly the original source of knowledge however unmeritorious as it first induced Eves trespass in tasting the forbidden fruit but I think we have fairly exhausted this thesis and now for quelque chose denouveau
SIR John has received a letter from Sir James Miller wherein
he intreats that Sir John will not banish him his native land by keeping up any resentment against him He implores Lucys pardon and is mean enough to give hints that his crime has been his punishment
Poor abject wretch Sir John has assured him that he never can feel resentment for a person he despises so that he may return to England in perfect safety
THIS last contemptible manoeuvre of Sir James has I think completed Lucys cure Her faded charms begin to recover their former lustre and I had the pleasure of overhearing her singing a very lively air as she walked just now under my window Are not these good symptoms my fair philosopher
NO friendly visitant has broke in upon me to interrupt the tediousness of this epistle but the clock has just reminded me of an appointment I made with my Edward and Emily to take them to our park Exact punctuality should ever be preserved in promises made to those who are not capable of judging of the reasons
which might be given for a breach of it—I therefore must fly to them and bid my dear Emily
I AM heartily glad that the mock war as you call it between us is at an end as I should at present be totally unable to support my share in the combat and of course must fall before the conqueror I have been unusually dispirited and languid for these two days—I feel as if I had cause to be melancholy and yet endeavour to persuade myself that I have none This is a state not to be described and to you who I dare say have never experienced it may appear ridiculous and yet believe me it is a painful situation—But I flatter myself I have rather caught than bred this malady
LORD Seymour left us this morning and for some days before he set out he seemed to have acquired an additional degree of melancholy softness Love he can never feel more—Besides my lord seems infected with the same disorder looks grave and sighs Tell me then Fanny is it possible that male friendship is so much more delicate and tender than ours that their mutual sadness could arise from a separation for a few weeks or perhaps months If this should be the real cause I shall blush for my own want of sensibility
I SHOULD think lord Seymour in such a state of mind that no slight or trivial misfortune could possibly affect him for they who have once felt real anguish may bid defiance to future ills The arrows of adversity may glance against but cannot wound a heart already broken From sympathy alone such minds can suffer—But Oh far far be the thought from Emilys fond bosom that lord Woodvilles sufferings should cause lord Seymours sorrow It is impossible I am sorry I have expressed such a thought even to you my sister I would blot it from the paper if I could erase it from my mind
WE had last night a concert in a temple dedicated to Apollo in the garden—My lord whose voice is harmony itself was singing one of Shenstones elegies I accompanied him on the harpsichord and lord Seymour on the violoncello—At these words
She was fair and I could not but love
She is faithless and I am undone
I saw lord Seymour fix his eyes on lord Woodvilles face which in a moment became suffused with crimson his voice faltered so much that he could scarce finish the song
THE moment it was ended he quitted the temple I felt myself alarmed I feared he was taken ill and went immediately towards the house As I crossed the parterre I saw him walking briskly in a path that leads to the wood this quieted my apprehensions for his health but left my mind in a state incapable of thinking—I retired to my chamber and continued to muse till summoned to supper
THERE was no notice taken of what had passed—we parted earlier than usual all but lord Seymour and my lord who continued together till near four oclock I could not sleep and wished to have risen and either walked or read but was unwilling to discover my restlessness to him who caused it When we met at breakfast Mr Ransford who was just arrived from London asked my lord in a low voice if I had been ill as he observed that I looked much paler than usual
WHAT a flutter am I in Just as I had wrote the last word my dear lord opened the door and said he came to request the pleasure of my company to see a new improvement he is making and with the most engaging affability added that he feared he had disturbed my rest by sitting up so late but thought an airing would do us both good
HIS behaviour has made all the foregoing part of my letter appear a vision to me Do not reply to it my Fanny till you hear from me again and I hope by next post to have forgot I ever wrote it
PS YOU shall have the little history of the nun with my next—I rejoice at Lucys recovery—Happy happy may you all be
THE cloud that hung over my mind is totally dispersed and my happiness restored with my reason What a visionary must you think me but do not chide me my loved sister lest by endeavouring at a justification I should fancy I had found reason to support my folly
I NEVER spent so delightful a day as the last on which I wrote to you During our airing which was about six miles my lord appeared if possible more amiable to me than ever There was a peculiar air of tenderness diffused through his voice and manner perhaps the parting from his friend had softened his already gentle nature Perhaps—but why pry into his bosom in search of a cause which might render the effect less pleasing
IN less than an hour we arrived at the neatest and most elegant cottage I ever beheld It was seated on the declivity of a hill and defended from the North winds by a small wood so beautifully variegated that even in this leafy season summer autumn and winter seemed to vye in the luxuriancy of the different shades which their several periods produce
BEFORE the house a pendant lawn covered with sheep and lambs reached to the river which winded in the most beautiful mazes round the hill Over the broadest part of it was a Gothic bridge of one arch with a watch tower in the center and on the other side of the house stood a small nursery and shrubbery—I was never more
agreeably surprized than with this lovely scene I really think if I was to meet with any severe affliction that I should like to retire to this delightful solitude and pass my days in it
I FREQUENTLY saw my lords eyes sparkle with pleasure at that which I expressed As I neither saw or heard a human creature but ourselves I begged to know who were the happy owners of this lovely spot said I wished to see and congratulate them on their taste and felicity—He said he would immediately comply with my request and by so doing increase the happiness of its possessors
HE then led me to the house which was as simply elegant within as without—I think I never saw perfect neatness before—and presented me to his nurse an extreme good looking woman about fifty—she knew not in what manner to receive me—humility and joy seemed to struggle in her countenance—I stepped forward and embraced her—my lord seemed delighted at what he was pleased to call my condescension
THE good woman has been a widow for twelve years her husband was first gardener to my lords father and her son inlaw is now in the same station with us Her daughter is a very pretty woman about two and twenty and ready to lye in of a second child I never beheld such a cherubim as the first My lord said archly he hoped his foster sister and I should be better acquainted and that she would undertake the same good office for me that her mother had done for his
THE poor girl blushed and curtsyed I felt my cheeks glow and walked to the window—I confess I was charmed with his intention to such a point which the foolish lords of the creation generally think below them He then inquired
for the nurses mother and the finest old woman I ever saw came into the room—I saluted her also—her hair was perfectly silver and her skin like down—she blessed and embrassed my lord while tears of joy and gratitude ran down her fair unfurrowed cheek
MY lord was affected and saw me sow and in order to change the subject told the good woman of the house he was come to dine with her—She looked amazed and so should I had I then thought him serious—But I found he was so when he told her she could certaily give us good bread butter rashers and eggs and a sallad and that he would take care of the rest
I SMILED assent but said we should send home to prevent the company waiting He said there was no necessity for it as he was quite satisfied that our friends at Woodfort would sit down to dinner at the same instant that we did without hearing from us I then supposed he had left orders that they should not wait and was pleased with the idea of our simple rustic meal But I was to be still more surprized for in about ten minutes the coach arrived with lady Harriet Fany Weston Sir James Thornton and Mr Ransford A sumpter car followed with wine and cold provisions
THE beauty of the scene the fineness of the day the unpremeditatedness of the scheme all conspired to render us more chearful than we should have been perhaps in any other place on earth and we all returned home delighted with our little expedition and full of gratitude to my lord for the pleasure it had afforded us
THIS is an enormous long letter but you taught me to rise early I can therefore spare time to my absent friends as well as those about me and I can never think that time better employed
than in proving to my dearest Fanny that I am
PS I fear I have delayed the history I now send you too long perhaps your curiosity may be as much palled as ones appetite sometimes is by waiting for a second course which though elegant in itself cannot repair the damage done by the delay But if you are a true epicure and like the feast you will feed heartily though the tediousness of the cook be ever so teizing to you
The HISTORY of Miss CHARLOTTE BEAUMONT
AS the chief circumstances which relate to this lady refer more to others than herself we must look back to the first causes of those effects which seem to have marked her fate Unhappy in the very article of her birth though descended from a noble family it will be necessary to give some account of the authors of her being
HER father the present general Beaumont was the youngest son of one of the most antient and illustrious houses in France but as is generally the case with the superfluous branches of great families of that nation he was possessed of no other patrimony than his high birth a graceful person and his sword
THE church and the army are the only provisions which seem to be designed for the cadets of the noblesse To the latter our young soldier of fortune applied himself and soon obtained a genteel post there In this situation the then duchess dowager of H— saw and was captivated with our young hero—Though her age more
than doubled his her person was still pleasing and her fortune so infinitely superior to his most sanguine hopes that he did not long hesitate to accept such a splendid establishment
THEY passed some years together with that polite indifference which distinguishes the married couples of high rank in that gay nation At length the duchess began to grow weary of treading the same dull circle for so many years and proposed to the general they should visit one of her estates in Languedoc and pass a summer there Though he was by no means tired of the grande monde nor could possibly form any very delightful idea of retirement with such a companion as her grace he politely assented to her request
WHEN they had been some time in the country the duchess hinted a desire of sending for a young lady who was a distant relation of her first husbands and whom she had formerly placed in a convent This proposal was perfectly agreeable to the general The most desirable tetes a tetes sometimes grow languid but the intervension of a third person in such a situation as theirs was most devoutly to be wished for
HER grace set out the next morning for the convent de— which was about five leagues from her seat and returned in the evening accompanied by the too lovely Charlotte DEtree—The general though well accustomed to the power of beauty became suddenly captivated—Never had he beheld such a face and form before—such simple elegance such unaffected grace the beauties of Venus with Dians modesty
WHILE the lovely Charlotte felt at least as much surprize at the sight of him We have already said his person was remarkably graceful his air at once engaging and commanding nor
was any outward ornament neglected that could put off such a form to the best advantage—What an amazing effect must such a figure have upon a girl not yet seventeen who had been bred in a cloister and had never seen or at least conversed with any man who did not wear a cowl
THE duchess attempted to appologize for Charlottes astonishment By observing that the poor girl had been brought up in an absolute ignorance but hoped when she had been some time with her that her aukward amazement would wear off She might have talked for ever without interruption The general had neither speech nor hearing his faculties seemed all absorbed in one and through his eyes alone his heart was for the first time taught to feel a real passion
THE little wanton God too much the generals friend soon inspired the innocent and fair DEtree with the same sentiments Never did the tyrant reign more absolute than in the hearts of these his willing slaves Whole months passing away in all the delights of mutual fondness seemed to the lovers but a day and when at the end of autumn the duchess talked of returning to Paris it appeared to them like being doomed to banishment
CHARLOTTE was to accompany the duchess thither but the general knew their interviews must be less frequent and more liable to interruption than in the charming solitude of belle veue After every excuse was obviated and every possible contrivance of delay exhausted they were forced to submit and the once gay and lively Charles Beaumont set out for the metropolis with infinitely more regret than he had quitted it The duchess was happily not of
a jealous nature and the enamoured pair behaved with so much circumspection that she never seemed to have the least suspicion of their mutual attachment to the last hour of her life
THE natural consequences of their guilty love now began to make Charlotte taste the bitter ingredients of that intoxicating cup of which she had drank so deeply Infamy stared her in the face and though a criminal passion had triumphed over chastity her modesty was not yet extinguished Sleepless nights and days of anguish now became her portion She detested herself and all the world all but the guilty author of her misery How often did she wish she never had quitted the cloister but there like the desart rose have bloomed and died unseen in innocence and peace
THE general whose fondness if possible was encreased by her situation said every thing in his power to console her by promising to secure her fame Many were the expedients he thought of but none of them seemed sufficient to satisfy the delicate apprehensions of the unhappy Charlotte At length she recollected that there was a young woman in the convent where she had been bred whose father and mother were dead and had left her in such low circumstances that she could neither afford to live in the world or pay her pension where she remained and was therefore under the painful necessity of taking the veil contrary to her inclinations or of going into the world as a dependent
THIS person then she fixed upon as a consederate and immediately wrote to her to come to Paris with ample promises of taking care of her future fortune Mademoiselle Laval was overjoyed at such a summons and instantly obeyed it In the mean time the general hired a very neat
furnished house for her reception and appointed servants and every thing proper for her arrival—She was informed that she was to personate a lady whose husband was just dead and who was come from a distant part of Normandy to prosecute a lawsuit and lye in at Paris
THE unhappy situation of this young womans circumstances made her readily acquiesce in every thing that Charlotte required and she entered her house with all the melancholy solemnity of an afflicted relict In a few days after her arrival the real mourner the poor wretched Charlotte went to visit her and after shedding a flood of tears upon her bosom acquainted her with her unhappy situation and implored her assistance
MADEMOISELLE Laval naturally good natured and softened by the unhappy condition of her friend promised every thing she could desire—endeavoured to soothe and comfort her affliction and at last settled matters in such a way that the moment Charlotte found herself taken ill she was to go there that every necessary preparation should he made and every tender care taken of her and her offspring
EVERY thing happened to their utmost wishes she was taken ill as she was dressing to go to a ball at the English ambassadors The duches was luckily prevented from going by a slight cold and Charlotte when she got into the carriage had no one to oppose her being set down where she pleased—She went directly to her friends house and was there happily delivered of a son and daughter who were immediately baptized by the names of Charles and Charlotte
IN as short a time as was possible after this event the general and one of his particular
friends carried Charlotte home in a sedan chair She said she had been taken ill at the ball and went directly to bed where she continued for some days and to carry on the deceit Mademoiselle Laval confined herself to her bed and went through all the forms of a real accouchement
THIS great event so well over the general thought himself the happiest man living—He doated on his children and perfectly adored their lovely mother—But she continued to appear gloomy and dejected and at last declared she should never know peace while the living witnesses of her shame continued in the same kingdom with her She seldom saw them and when she did expressed abhorrence rather than tenderness towards them She behaved with the utmost coldness to the general and affected to be infinitely more miserable than she had ever been before
THE general was almost distracted at her conduct and at length consented to the removal of the children It was agreed that Laval should go over to England take upon her the name of Beaumont and educate them as her own till the duchess died—as soon as that should happen he promised to marry Charlotte and receive them as the orphans of a near relation
IN the mean time he settled a very handsome income on Laval and the little innocents set out for London with their fictitious mother who felt however infinitely more tenderness for them than their real one seemed to have done
NOTHING remarkable happened during their infancy Mademoiselle Laval by the generals recommendation became acquainted with any families of distinction and though
quite unacquainted with the word behaved herself so properly that she was as much esteemed as known and her lovely children universally admired
WHEN they were about seven years old the duchess died and in as short a space as decency would admit of the general fulfilled his promise to his still adored and beautiful Charlotte On this occasion Mademoiselle Laval who really doated on her amiable charge felt the tenderest concern at the thoughts of parting with it—but she might have spared her sorrow for madame de Beaumont was by no means inclined to rob her of it On the contrary when the general proposed the childrens return she grew outrageous and declared she would never see him more if he attempted to bring them into any part of France She was born to rule his fate and he submitted though reluctantly to her inhuman and unnatural commands
IN about ten months after their marriage she brought him a son which in some measure consoled him for the loss of his other children and in another year presented him with a daughter In a little time his fondness was wholly transferred to the objects of her adoration—Never was so fond a mother and madame de Beaumont was looked upon as the pattern of maternal affection while she not only abandoned but detested her former offspring
THE generals letters to Laval became less frequent and though he punctually remitted her income he seldom mentioned those for whose use it was designed In vain poor Laval endeavoured to awaken the tender feelings of a father in his heart by boasting the amazing beauty of his Charlotte or mentioning the fine parts and accomplishments of his amiable Charles Nature
seemed dead in him as much as in their cruel mother
AT length worn by the perpetual remonstrances of the humane and generou• Laval he obtained a commission for his son who was then about sixteen in a regiment that was to embark from Dunkirk for America but sent strict orders that he should not go to Paris and conjured Laval to keep him still ignorant of his birth
POOR Charlotte almost died away at the thoughts of being separated from her brother It was the first cause she had ever known for sorrow and nature seemed inclined to make them both amends for the loss of parental affection by bestowing a double portion of fraternal love on each
OUR young soldier whose ardor for glory was extreme was all gratitude to his supposed mother for suffering him to follow the bent of his inclination and at the appointed time he quitted London with a heart filled at once with bravery and tenderness
IN order to divert the melancholy which affected Charlotte for her brothers absence lady Sandford invited the feigned mademoiselle de Beaumont and her supposed daughter to pass some time at her seat in the country The invitation was readily accepted and there Charlotte now in her seventeenth year first saw lord Seymour
HER beauty was then only in its dawn but even then like Aurora breaking through the clouds it gave a promise of the brightest day The tender regret she felt for her brothers absence gave an additional softness to her voice and manners and the expressive sensibility of her large hazel eyes seemed encreased by her gentle distress
SUCH an amiable object could not fail of inspiring passion in a heart less susceptible than lord Seymours or indeed any heart that was not guarded by a prepossession He soon felt the most ardent and sincere affection for her nor was he the only person who was sensible of the power of her charms The young duke of B— saw her at a ball at Northampton and became instantly enamoured—He waited on lady Sandford in a few days after and with all the precipitancy of youth high rank and fortune proposed himself to mademoiselle de Beaumont for her daughter
WHETHER Charlottes delicacy was really hurt by such a proceeding or whether she then felt a preference for lord Seymour she instantly rejected the dukes proposal with an air of fierte unknown to her before Mademoiselle de Beaumont who tenderly loved her acquiesced in her determination and resolved not to acquaint her real parents that such a match had been proposed
CHARLOTTE was transported at her feigned mothers kind condescension and promised the most implicit obedience which indeed she had ever shewn to all her commands She began now to recover her spirits was all chearfulness and vivacity and from this pleasing transition she acquired if possible new charms and each and every day lord Seymour became more and more enamoured
THE two happiest months of Charlottes life were now passed and mademoiselle de Beaumont talked of returning to London Before they set out lord Seymour found an opportunity of disclosing his passion to Charlotte She received his declaration with that frankness and candour that ever dwell with generous minds
but at the same time told him that she considered herself under such obligations to her mother for her conduct towards her in regard to the duke of B— that she would never listen to any persons addresses who had not the sanction of her approbation
THE enamoured Seymour whose passion was as truly delicate as the fair object that inspired it was now at the summit of felicity—he threw himself at Charlottes feet and poured forth his soul in the warmest expressions of gratitude for her generous and unaffected behaviour and at the same time obtained her leave to apply to mademoiselle de Beaumont for her consent as soon as they should return to London
HE was permitted the happiness of attending them thither and the day after their arrival waited on mademoiselle de Beaumont to intreat her leave to pay his addresses to her lovely daughter True love is ever timid and conscious as lord Seymour was that the advantage of birth and fortune were on his side he felt perhaps more apprehensions on this occasion than a young ensign would at addressing a lady of the highest rank
ALL that he knew of Chorlottes circumstances or condition was that her mother passed for the widow of a general officer that her fortune was small but sufficient to support her little family genteelly with oeconomy and that she had maintained an unblemished reputation in London for near seventeen years
BUT how were the generous and disinterested Seymours fears increased when mademoiselle de Beaumont told him she was highly sensible of the honour he intended her daughter but that she thought her yet too young to marry and
that she had laid herself under an engagement never to dispose of Charlotte without first consulting her fathers family and friends she conjured him as a man of honour not to mention his passion to Charlotte as by inspiring her with a mutual one he might perhaps render them both miserable
LORD Seymour instantly told her it was out of his power to obey her injunction as it was by Charlottes permission he had then the honour of intreating her consent and that he neither could nor would desist from endeavouring to gain a heart on which all his happiness in this life depended Mademoiselle de Beaumont was moved even to tears at the unhappy situation of the lovers She too plainly saw the obstacles that must prevent their union but generously promised and resolved to do every thing in her power for their mutual happiness
LORD Seymour ventured to remonstrate to her that with regard to the duke of B—s proposal she had acted as sole parent and guardian of her daughter and he could not see the necessity of farther consultation for accepting than refusing a lover She owned her tenderness for Charlotte had in that case triumphed over her promise but she had even then only assumed a negative power which was more in right of her daughter than herself for she never could think it just that either parents or friends should even persuade a person to marry contrary to their own inclinations She told him she would write immediately to France and represent his lordships birth fortune and person in the advantageous light in which she beheld them
EXALTED as his ideas were of the object of his passion he had great reason to flatter himself that his alliance would not be contemned by any
family in France and when he considered that the exquisite perfections of his charming Charlotte must he unknown to those persons who were to be consulted in the disposal of them his fears would sometimes vanish and his fond heart beat with all the transporting hopes of successful love
CHARLOTTE who had never heard mademoiselle de Beaumont talk of her fathers family till now considered the difficulties that were started in another light and fancied she only meant them to protract the marriage till she should be eighteen which she had often heard her say was full early for a young lady to marry However without enquiring she perfectly acquiesced in her supposed mothers conduct and while she had the happiness of seeing and hearing the tenderest of lovers and most charming of men she knew not a wish ungratified Mademoiselle de Beaumont fulfilled her promise by writing immediately to the general and mentioning lord Seymour in the justest and of course most pleasing light
IT happened that the general and his lady were at that time at Aix la Chapelle where he had been seized with a violent fever and though the letter was forwarded to him as the characters of the superscription were known by his lady it lay for sometime unopened
DURING this interval the fictitious mademoiselle de Beaumont was attacked by the smallpox which appeared of so malignant a sort that her fate was quickly pronounced by her physicians As soon as she was acquainted with her disorder she forbad Charlotte to come near her as she had never had it but in vain she commanded or lord Seymour entreated her to absent herself a moment from her bedside She said it was her
first and should be her last act of disobedience and for that reason she hoped her dear and tender parent would pardon it
OVERCOME by her filial piety they suffered her to undergo such constant and violent fatigue as at any other time would have destroyed her delicate and beauteous frame But she supported it with such a tender alacrity and attention as amazed and affected every one who saw her even lord Seymours love was encreased by his admiration of her virtues and rose almost to adoration
WHEN mademoiselle de Beaumont was informed of her danger which was but a few hours before her death she desired to be left alone with Charlotte—After embracing and imploring blessings on her she told her that neither her time nor strength would permit her revealing a secret that was of the utmost consequence to her But as she had ever endeavoured to be prepared for the tremendous event that was now come to pass she had kept a journal of her life from the time she quitted the convent de— to the moment of her illness that in those papers she would find her own history included and that of her real parents
CHARLOTTE though drowned in tears was all attention till those astonishing words her real parents smote her ear—She then cried out ah madam will you not only abandon but deny me Alas what has your Charlotte done Be comforted my more than daughter she replied I was not worthy of such a blessing—Yet still I hope more worthy than they who possess so rich a treasure regardless of its value But if their hearts so long hardened to your blooming virtues at length relent and give you to the worthy Seymour you will have no cause
to regret their past neglect or court their future protection May you be happy This key taking one from her bosom will explain what I cannot And now adieu for ever
THE sudden effects of surprise joined to those of grief quite overcame the afflicted Charlotte—She fainted and was conveyed senseless to her own apartment Madmoiselle de Beaumont continued to breathe till she heard Charlotte was restored to life then yielded up her own
THE next day Charlotte was seized with convulsions and immediately after the smallpox appeared but of a safe and gentle kind—the malignity of the disorder had spent its force upon mademoiselle de Beaumont and the low state both of Charlottes mind and body rendered its operations less powerful Lord Seymour never quitted her apartment though not permitted to enter her chamber nor could he be prevailed on even to rest himself on a couch till the physicians pronounced her out of danger
AS soon as it was possible she saw him he appeared more altered than herself Never was such an interview between two lovers Their present loss of beauty seemed to augment their fondness and each felt more real tenderness for the other than at any former instant of their lives Lord Seymour though he lamented the death of mademoiselle de Beaumont very sincerely now thought that every bar to his happiness was removed and as Charlotte appeared to be the mistress of her own fate he had no apprehensions that his could be unhappy
SHE had laughed at madame de Beaumonts superstitious attachment to distant relations whom she had not seen for many years he therefore could not suspect her being inefcted with the
same caprice The mother said she was bound by solemn engagements to the family of Beaumont the daughter could have entered into none as she left Paris when an infant He had therefore no reason to imagine that any power on earth could oppose his felicity and indulged his fond imagination with respective views of fancied bliss which he was fated never to enjoy
THE smallpox had been so favourable to Charlotte that she had not been affected with the least mark or alteration of feature and the natural whiteness of her snowy skin soon triumphed over the transitory redness which is the common effect of that always disagreeable and sometimes fatal disorder
BUT though her beauty had returned her chearfulness seemed buried in mademoiselle de Beaumonts tomb Her affliction for her as a parent would perhaps have subsided into a calm and gentle melancholy but her last words had raised a tumult in her bosom which she had not resolution sufficient to conquer She frequently endeavoured to persuade herself that her dear mother had raved in her last moments but the strength of her expression and calmness of her manner opposed that fond belief
HIS delicacy had yet prevented him from expressing his ardent wishes for their union as the cause of her amiable distress was yet too recent and many months might possibly have passed away in the same irresolution if the receipt of
the following letter had not precipitated this point to a more immediate crisis
To Mademoiselle de BEAUMONT
Aix la Chapelle
NEVE was amazement equal to mine at perusing your last letter What you wretch as you are raised by my hand and supported by my bounty presume to dictate to me in the disposal of my child And who is this lord Seymour he is not an heretic if so that is sufficient objection were he a prince
BUT surely madam since you take upon you to inform us of intended marriages and act as plenipotentiary between our daughter and ourselves you should have informed us of the duke of B—s proposal and no more have dared to refuse than accept a lover for Charlotte Beaumont
THE young duke himself has informed me of his simple attachment to the silly girl and of the insolence with which his proposal was rejected He inquired whether she was of our family I did as I ever shall disclaim her
THE general who has been ill of a fever by me commands you on receipt of this to set out with Charlotte Beaumont instantly for Paris He has devoted her to heaven and found out a fit retreat for that purpose in the convent of St Anthony Be it your business as it is your duty to teach her an implicit obedience to his will
SHE is now of age to be trusted with the secret of her birth but let her also know
that when she relinquishes you as a mother she is not to expect to find one in
CHARLOTTE BEAUMONT
PS The general and I shall return to Paris in a few days where we expect not to see but hear from you and Charlotte
THE moment you arrive at the hotel Angloise you are commanded to send to the general but on no account attempt to come near our house
THE situation of the unhappy Charlottes mind upon reading this letter is not to be described Who is this cruel woman she exclaimed that thus disclaims an unoffending child Oh I will throw myself beneath her feet and soften that obdurate heart with tears My father too I have a father then Sure he will raise me up in his parental arms and bless me They will relent and when they see my Seymour and know his wondrous worth his wondrous love they will be charmed as their fond daughter is and give me to his wishes
FULL of these warm and natural apprehensions the halfdistracted Charlotte flew to the cabinet which like Pandoras box contained a thousand ills and with a trembling hand unlocked it The first objects that presented themselves to her view were miniature portraits of her father and mother—She gazed with joy and wonder Never had she beheld such striking beauty of both kinds the manly and the mild
SHE kissed embraced wept over them nay knelt to them implored their pity and protection and in one moment was inspired with more respect and tenderness for those inanimate
figures than she had ever felt for her supposed mother though gratitude and esteeem had answered all her purposes of filial affection in her gentle nature
SHE now sat down to search the book of fate those fatal Sybils leaves that told her doom and while she read felt every passion that the human heart is capable of—Yet still her love and reverence for her parents remained predominant and she determined to sacrifice herself to their unnatural commands and pass her days in a cloister if she could not prevail on them to change their cruel purpose
SHE quickly saw how improper it would have been to acquaint lord Seymour with her real situation as he would doubtless oppose her returning to France with all the eloquence of love—Yet to quit him without making any excuse or to descend to invent a false one were equally repugnant to her tender and generous nature
SHE had been bred in the Roman Catholic faith but had never conversed with bigots nor once thought that marrying the man she loved could be deemed a crime against any religion The idea first shocked her on her mothers pronouncing him a heretic and she resolved to make the difference of opinions a pretext for postponing their marriage till she could prevail upon her parents to give their consent which she vainly hoped she should be able to obtain from their tenderness and his uncommon merits
THEY know the power of love said she and will not like vulgar and unfeeling minds attempt to oppose his uncontroulable decrees—They will regard lord Seymour for their Charlottes sake and his tenderness for me shall appear
by that love and duty that he shews to them
THUS did the unhappy visionary fair one amuse herself till lord Seymour came to pay his daily visit He had been used for some time past to see her melancholy and at times disturbed but as soon as he then saw her he perceived that her whole frame had been uncommonly agitated And when he tenderly intreated to know the cause she answered only with a flood of tears and begged he would not press her on the subject
THOUGH his fond heart was alarmed by a thousand different fears he chose rather to bear that cruel state of suspense than distress the object he adored and immediately desisted from any further inquiries When he left her that evening he felt an unusual degree of anxiety and was several times tempted to return and beg to know the source of her distress but he feared to offend by disobeying her commands and hoped at their next meeting her chagrin might be dispelled
LORD Seymour was to go out of town for a few days to the nuptials of a near relation and his loved Charlotte had bid him adieu with a more than usual tenderness Charlotte resolved to lay hold on the opportunity of lord Seymours absence to set out for France She had found in the late madame de Beaumonts cabinet about two hundred pounds in bills and money out of this sum she discharged all her servants except her own maid whom she determined to take with her She ordered one of those she parted with to remain in the house till lord Seymours return in order to deliver him a letter which she should leave for him
SHE had now she thought settled matters in such a way that nothing remained to obstruct her purposed journey—But alas the more difficult part of her arduous task was yet to come—She was now to bid adieu to the man her soul adored She knew not what passion was till the severity of her fate compelled her to wish to conquer it A thousand times she attempted to write to him who was now dearer than ever to her but could not find words that were capable of expressing her complicated feelings—Two sleepless nights and miserable days thus passed She dreaded lord Seymours return and on the third while the chaise waited to carry her off she wrote the following lines
WITH a heart and eyes overflowing with the sincerest tenderness at the sad thought of being separated from the only man I ever did or ever shall love I find myself incapable of taking even a transient leave of him Oh may it prove so
My flight must appear extraordinary to you Why am I not at liberty to explain my motives But be assured they are such as your honour and virtue would approve though your fondness might oppose the effect I fly then my dear lord Seymour to render myself worthy of you to ease my heart of some scruples which only can prevent its being wholly yours
IF heaven smiles upon my purpose you shall hear quickly from me and surely innocence and love so pure as mine may claim its care But should it for wise purposes unknown to me blast all my flattering hopes
of happiness and doom me to the lowest wretchedness thy image still shall dwell within my heart and shield it from dishonour
I WOULD say more but cannot the chaise waits to carry me—from whom from thee What agonies are in that thought Nought but the hope of meeting soon again could now enable me to say
CHARLOTTE BEAUMONT
As soon as she had sealed her letter she flung herself into the chaise and pursued her journey which she performed without meeting with any uncommon accident
IN a few hours after she set out her brother who had been near two years absent returned to London His bravery had raised him to the rank of captain and as the war was then over he had obtained leave to visit his friends in England
HE had not heard of mademoiselle de Beaumonts death till he came to her house and was at once informed of that and Charlottes abrupt departure The amiable young man was extremely shocked and grieved and in the midst of his tears for mademoiselle de Beaumont lamented the uncertainty of his loved sisters fate and determined as soon as it was possible to pursue her steps to Paris
JUST as he was quitting the house his eyes swoln with tears and his aspect impressed with the deepest sorrow lord Seymour came to the door—Young Beaumont issued out regardless of a man he had never seen before and lord Seymour
though at first surprized at his appearance upon receiving Charlottes letter thought of him no more
INDEED all traces of recollection seemed to have been instantly erased from his memory and he remained like a man suddenly transfixed by lightning It was some time before he had power to ask when she set out or whither she was gone And when the servant replied to his queries he continued to repeat them without receiving the information he so earnestly desired
HE read her letter a thousand times yet would neither credit that nor the servants affirmation that she had left the house—He ran distractedly through every room calling on his dear Charlottes name and crying out It is impossible she must be here O do not kill me for thy sport my love But when he found his search was in vain he retired to his house in a state very little short of distraction
THE moment our fair fugitive landed at Calais she wrote a letter to each of her parents filled with expressions of the humblest duty and tenderest affection She acquainted them with the death of her supposed mother and mentioned her obligations to her with the highest gratitude and esteem She implored their permission to throw herself at their feet and that they would allow her a happiness she had been so long deprived of that of receiving a parents blessing
IN vain was her tender and virtuous mind enriched with every noble and generous sentiment that could do honour to humanity her cruel parents were literally in the state of the deaf adder they shut their ears and eyes to her perfections and refused to receive the highest
pleasure that human nature is capable of that of beholding an amiable and accomplished child
AS soon as she arrived at the hotel Angloise she found a servant waiting with a letter for her which contained these words
CHARLOTTE BEAUMONT
YOU are commanded to accompany the bearer of this who will conduct you to an apartment that is provided for your reception this night Tomorrow a carriage shall attend to convey you to the convent of St Anthony—The general is too much indisposed to see you at present—when he is able he will call upon you there
AN implicit obedience to our orders which particularly enjoin the strictest secrecy in regard to your connexion with us can only prove the truth of those professions of duty which you have made
YOU are still to appear in the state of an orphan which can be no great difficulty to one who has so lately known that she has parents If you have brought a servant she must be dismissed tomorrow and sent back to England If you have occasion for money the bearer will supply you
C DE BEAUMONT
UPON reading this letter all the tender ideas of filial affection which had thronged about poor Charlottes heart seemed to vanish and the poignant anguish she had felt at tearing herself from her fond and generous lover returned with double force
SHE however determined not to halt at beginning the race and turning to her conductor with the utmost mildness and resignation said she was ready to attend him and hoped when she was lodged for the night he would do her the favour to wait till she should write a few lines to madame de Beaumont
HE told her he was ordered not to bring back any letter or message and hoped she would not take his refusal ill as he durst not venture to disobey—The tears now forced their way into Charlottes eyes She told the servant she would not be the cause of his disobedience on any account and that she was ready to follow him
HE put her and her maid into a chariot and directed the coachman where he was to go When they alighted they were shewn into a very elegant apartment and her conductor after inquiring whether she wanted money or any farther assistance from him being answered in the negative bowed and withdrew
AS soon as he was gone the now miserable Charlotte gave vent to all her sorrows she threw herself upon the ground and washed it with her tears Her affectionate servant who had lived with her from her infancy without knowing the cause of her distress vainly endeavoured to console her intreated her to return to England and talked of lord Seymours love and constancy
HER every word struck daggers to the unhappy Charlottes heart—As soon as she was able to speak she told her 〈◊〉 she must part with her the next day that she determined to go into a convent for some time and advised her to set out immediately for London The poor girl who truly loved her was almost distracted at seeing and hearing her mistress look and speak so and positively declared she would never leave
her let her determination in life be what it would
CHARLOTTE peremptorily insisted on discharging her from her service but told her she would support her in Paris while her money lasted and that she might sometimes see her at the convent This in some measure quieted the poor servants anxiety but Charlottes unhappiness increased every hour—She went not to bed and the pearly drops remained on her fair cheek when the sun had exhaled those of the dew
SHE wrote a few lines to let lord Seymour know that she was going into the convent of St Anthony and in her distraction gave the letter to her made to deliver without reflecting that the faithful Nannette had resolved not to quit Paris till her mistresss fate was determined
IN the morning she dressed herself and endeavoured to assume an air of composure and tranquility with a breaking heart About ten oclock the same person who had attended her the night before came in a coach accompanied by madame de Beaumonts woman who presented her with the following letter
CHARLOTTE
BOTH the general and I are much pleased with the accounts we have received of your behaviour Any remonstrance against our commands would be at once presumptuous and vain Continue therefore to deserve our favour by a silent and unlimited obedience
YOU are already informed that the general has devoted you to heaven—Let not his will who has an absolute power over you appear severe A convent is the only place
where true happiness is to be found—That you may meet it there sincerely wishes
C DE BEAUMONT
PS You are expected to enter upon your noviciate immediately
CHARLOTTE received this cruel sentence with amazing fortitude To her perturbed and wretched state of mind the quieter asylum of a cloister appeared not undelightful and had not her passion for lord Seymour revolted against the severity of her doom she might have been led like a lamb to the sacrifice without a sigh or groan
MADAME de Beaumonts last letter seemed less farouche than her former one and this encouraged Charlotte to hope that time and her obedience might possibly awaken the tender feelings of maternal love in her hitherto obdurate breast She inquired whether she might be permitted to return her thanks for madame de Beaumonts favour in writing and was again answered in the negative
SHE took a most affectionate leave of her disconsolate maid who followed the coach at a distance and saw her enter those gates through which she was never to pass again
WHEN they arrived at the convent madame de Beaumonts woman presented Charlotte to the abbess as a willing victim She was therefore received with every outward mark of esteem and the grossest flattery was lavished by the whole sisterhood on those charms which they vainly imagined an acceptable sacrifice to the great creator of them
DELUDED mortals—the heart alone is all that he requires nor do the tender charities of life the love of parents husband brethren children pollute the oblation but render it more pleasing in his sight who first ordained then sanctified these natural ties
CHARLOTTE shewed not the least reluctance at entering on her prohibition—She knew that a year must elapse before she could be compelled to take the veil and still flattered herself that fate would dispose of her in another way before that time should expire She imagined that by a seeming acquiescence she might be able to lessen if not entirely remove any restraint they might otherwise have been imposed upon her
SHE made no doubt that lord Seymours passion would prompt him to pursue her and she fully determined to acquaint him with every circumstance of her life if she should ever have an opportunity For this purpose she employed every leisure moment she was mistress of in framing a little history from the papers she had found in the cabinet with the additional circumstances that had happened from the time of her leaving London
AS she scarce ever appeared in the parlour or at the grate the sisterhood beheld her as the paragon of sanctity and her edifying example was quoted as a pattern for all the young ladies in the convent The little task she had imposed on herself by amusing her mind kept up her spirits so that she seemed to have acquired a constant habit of chearfulness
BUT when her work was finished and two monts had elapsed without hearing from her father mother or what was still more interesting her lover she fell into a lowness of spirits which terminated in a slow fever She now
looked upon herself as abandoned by all the world and the cruel suspicion of lord Seymours inconstancy perfectly reconciled her to the gloomy prospect of perpetual seclusion
HER faithful servant continued to see her frequently and as often mingled her tears with those of her unhappy mistress As she was one day musing on the uncommon miseries of her fate her maid approached her with unusual chearfulness and cried out O Madam he is come
A TRANSITORY joy now sparkled in Charlottes eyes and the soft bloom that had forsaken her cheek returned with added blushes Where is he she replied and ah how could he stay so long Didst thou see him Nannette and has he mourned my absence
AT that instant one of the lay sisters came to inform Charlotte that a gentleman desired to see her She flew to the grate but how was her surprize encreased when instead of lord Seymour she beheld her brother
IF any thing could have abated her joy at seeing him it must have been the disappointment she felt at not meeting lord Seymour But though her expectation had been highly raised with the pleasing hope of such an interview she was sincerely rejoice at the unexpected sight of her much beloved brother
HE immediately began to expostulate with her on quitting England and earnestly intreated her to leave the convent and put herself under his protection She told him that was not at present in her power as she was then in her noviciate but promised not to take the veil without his approbation which she was certain would follow every action of her life when he was acquainted with the motives and in order
to explain both her situation and his own she would send him some papers to peruse which were of the utmost consequence to them both
CAPTAIN Beaumont was astonished at the mysterious manner which accompanied his sisters words but as he had the highest opinion of her honour and understanding he for the present suppressed his curiosity about the secrets she hinted at and retired to his lodgings to wait till Nannette should bring an explanation of the mystery in which he found his innocent and unhappy sister involved
CAPTAIN Beaumont had left London the day after his sister and easily traced her through the progress of her journey but when he arrived at Paris as he had no clue to guide him he wandered near three months in pursuit of her and but for the accidental meeting of Nannette in the street he might have spent as many years in the same fruitless inquiry
LORD Seymour whose ardour and impatience to recover his lost fair one was ever more sanguine than a brothers could be was not so early in his pursuit The agitation of his mind upon receiving Charlottes letter had thrown him into a violent fever and it was above three weeks before he was able to follow his fair fugitive
WHEN he came to Paris he was much at a loss to direct his inquiries as her brother had been—he had heard of her along the road and also of captain Beaumonts following her and from the description he received of him had no doubt of his being the same person he had seen at her house the day she left it
LOVE and jealousy are twins and it is impossible to defend the heart from one if you admit the other It was apparent to him that this person
and Charlotte were connected and his never having seen or heard of him increased his apprehensions of his being a favourite lover Yet why if that were the case should Charlotte continue to deceive him why write such a tender and affectionate adieu he knew not unless it were to lull his fears to sleep and prevent his endangering her lovers safety Thus did the unhappy Seymour increase his own calamities and drag about a wretched lifeless form to every public place in Paris in the fond hope of meeting those transcendant charms that were now buried in a cloister
THE sight of her brother had raised poor Charlottes spirits by reviving her hopes of getting out of the convent Yet of what use would she exclaim is liberty without love Seymour abandons me and the world itself is now become a solitude to me more gloomy even than this cell But grant his love and constancy should still subsist and that he is this moment as wretched as myself could he receive into his family the natural and rejected daughter of such cruel parents no there is no resource for me on earth these walls for ever must confine this hapless frame my heart alone is free and flies of course to him
AS soon as she had leisure she inclosed mademoiselle de Beaumonts papers her father and mothers pictures with a letter from herself to her brother acquainting him with every thing that had passed since her arrival in France and intreating him not to mention the affinity between them at the convent lest it should give offence to their parents and occasion their being restrained from seeing each other for the future She earnestly implored his protection and assistance toward releasing her from the state she was
in and promised to be guided by him in every action of her life
NOTWITHSTANDING the inhuman treatment that Charlotte had met with on perusing the papers captain Beaumont was transported at finding himself so nearly related to the general—the pride of blood is inherent and the sanguine hope of preferment from such a high descent dazzled his reason He flew directly to his sister and told her with the precipitancy natural to a young man that he was rejoiced at the discovery and would go and throw himself at his fathers feet without having the least doubt of a favourable reception
IN vain Charlotte remonstrated against such an unadvised proceeding and mentioned to humility of her own conduct and the severity of her parents notwithstanding in order to deter him from making the experiment She feared that his approaching the general without any introduction would be construed into want of respect and that she should be condemned for informing him that he had a right to do so—but he was not to be restraned
SHE passed the night under the most gloomy apprehension yet would often say to herself what have I to fear can I be made more wretched let me then receive the only consolation that remains for misery like mine the knowing that any change must be for the better Hapless maid a change will come that shall render your present state by sad comparison a scene of soft tranquility and ease
THE next evening on being informed that captain Beaumont was in the parlour she flew to receive him and after asking a thousand questions with her eyes and tongue she laid her cheek close to the grate to listen to his answers
At that instant she beheld lord Seymour entering the room The agitation of her mind was now encreased almost to distraction she knew not what she said or did and was utterly incapable of expressing the joy she felt at seeing the dear idol of her soul Her brother appeared dejected and unhappy and the mistaken Seymour attributed her confusion and his melancholy to motives which their souls were strangers to
WE have already hinted that jealousy had infected his noble nature but seeing the object of it with the woman he adored added a thousand stings and he now felt in the supremest degree its poignant anguish His behaviour to Charlotte was constrained and cold He told her he was indebted to that gentleman pointing to her brother for the happiness of seeing her as he could not easily forget his having met him at her house the morning she left London he naturally supposed he could inform him where she was and having accidentally seen him just then enter the convent he had taken the liberty to inquire for her and hoped she would pardon his intrusion He added that he should leave Paris in a few days and desired to know if she had any commands to England
THOUGH Charlotte was astonished at his behaviour she had however penetration enough to discover the cause and said she hoped she should be able to prevail on him to prolong his stay as she flattered herself with the thoughts of returning to England in a few months and should wish to have him her conductor
HE bowed and replied he should think himself happy to be of any service to her provided he did not interfere with another persons right but as he believed that gentleman was her chief motive for visiting France he was doubtless entitled
to the honour of attending her to England or wherever else she pleased
CHARLOTTE was rendered miserable by lord Seymours suspicions yet as there was other company in the parlour she knew not how to obviate them as she was yet ignorant whether she might dare to own captain Beaumont for her brother The latter was much surprized at lord Seymours manner—He knew not of any connection between Charlotte and him and thought her too condescending
THE rest of the time they staid was passed in a constrained and difficult situation However Charlotte found and seized an opportunity of speaking the words that are quoted in her letter to lord Seymour already related before the gentleman withdrew
MY dearest Henry let not appearances disturb your mind I can and I will account for every action of my life to you—Let your servant attend at the grate tomorrow for a letter from me and you shall be fully satisfied
THOUGH Charlottes mind was perplexed with a thousand doubts and fears both for her brother and herself the transport of having seen lord Seymour triumphed over them all and she once again enjoyed a transient gleam of happiness She knew it was in her power to remove all his suspicions she neither doubted his love nor honour and was certain he would assist her in getting out of the convent should they attempt to compel her to take the veil
AFTER writing a few lines to lord Seymour and making up her pacquet for him she lay down to rest with a heart more at ease than she had ever felt since the death of mademoiselle
de Beaumont But the bell had no sooner rung for mattins than she was presented with the following note
My dearest CHARLOTTE
I DIE by lord Seymours hand—some fatal mistake has caused this tragedy If he is your friend let him fly to preserve the only one you have now left My cruel parents will rejoice at my fate and I only lament it for your sake
CHARLES BEAUMONT
NOTHING but the immediate loss of her senses could have preserved her life—She sunk motionless upon the ground and nature by being totally overpowered afforded some little respite to her distracted mind She remained in this situation till the nuns alarmed at her absence from the chapel came to seek her in her cell But when their cruel care had brought her so far back as to shew some signs of life she could neither speak nor weep She appeared like grief personified She neither beat her bosom rent her hair or committed any act of outrage but continued almost immoveable till a letter was brought her from madame de Beaumont which contained these words
ACCURSED be the hour that gave thee birth and doubly cursed the moment when thy pretended filial piety brought thee back to France to ruin and destroy the peace of them who had been blessed if thou hadst never been born Why parricide and fratricide in one didst thou inform the unhappy wretch who is now fallen a victim to thy vices of his affinity to us Thy father never will surmount the shock which he
received from seeing him and with his latest breath will curse thee for being the cause of his and thy brothers death
BUT thou I doubt not triumphest in thy wickedness and fondly hopest to wed the murderer of thy brother But here thy crimes shall end—Thou shalt immediately be conveyed to La Salpetriere and made sensible of the unmerited kindness thou hast hitherto received by the severities thou shalt hereafter experience
C B
WE might suppose that when the unhappy Charlotte had read her brothers note her miseries could scarce admit addition but her inhuman mothers letter convinced her that the cup of sorrow though seemingly brimfull is always capable of increase
SHE was seized with inexpressible terrors at the thoughts of being sent to La Salpetriere She was sensible the abbess and nuns where she then was treated her with the utmost kindness for as they looked upon her as a voluntary victim she had never experienced the least restraint but what the common rules of the house prescribed She had been accustomed to the tenderest treatment all her life and her present melancholy situation demanded it more than ever
AFTER perusing the cruel anathema that doomed her to still greater miseries she flew into the abbesss apartment and prostrating herself before her with a flood of tears implored her pity and protection The good woman was moved at her distress and raising her from the ground assured her that no authority except the express order of the king should force her from that house and that if her enemies should attempt to procure a mandate by any false representation
she would exert her utmost abilities to protect her
CHARLOTTE now considered the absolute impossibility of any future connection with lord Seymour and therefore looked upon her continuance in the convent of St Anthony as an asylum most devoutly to he wished for She thanked the abbess on her knees and would at that instant have taken the veil without repining if they could have abridged the time of her probation
SHE had now no longer any terms to keep with madame de Beaumont and therefore mentioned the misfortunes her brother had met with and entreated the abbesss permission to send hourly to inquire his health Her request was granted and she retired to her cell in some degree less wretched than she had left it
BUT when her tortured imagination represented her still dear lord Seymour as the executioner of her brother her grief was without bounds Yes she would say I am indeed accursed well does my mother stile me so—Yet are they cruel words to pass maternal lips Oh had she but once blessed me I could not be the wretch I am
To Mademoiselle de BEAUMONT
CONVINCED as I am that I have given you cause to detest the name of him who now presumes to address you I would not madam intrude upon your sorrows but to offer you the only atonement which you can receive from such a wretch as me
I mean to inform you madam that I do not intend to fly from justice I knew the severity of the laws when I incurred their censure and the moment that precious life is ended which I have robbed you of I mean to offer up my own worthless as it is in order to expiate as far as is now possible the crime of having rendered you unhappy
BUT Oh my d•••…st Charlotte may I not hope that when my blood has washed away my stains exhausted as the fountains of thy beauteous eyes may be with grief for my too happy rival thou then mayest spare one tear to the sad memory of the lost
THERE wanted but this last stroke to render Charlotte the veriest wretch on earth She had flattered herself that lord Seymour had quitted France immediately after the duel and that his life at least was safe and that at some time or other she should be able to convince him of his error and her innocence But now she beheld him wilfully devoting himself to the rack and suffering torture greater than even that can inflict from his mistaken opinion of her inconstancy
IT was impossible that her delicate frame could longer support the complicated agonies that assailed
her mind She fell into a raging fever during her delirium she raved incessantly of racks and gibbets of snatching Seymour from them and suffering in his place At length however the natural goodness of her constitution and her blooming youth surmounted this dreadful disorder and her reason and wretchedness returned together
THE first gleam of peace that broke through the horrors of her fate were some small hopes of her brothers recovery and in consequence of those hopes she by a solemn vow devoted herself to heaven if it should be pleased to spare his life But not all her religion and virtue could prev••• her as firmly resolving not to out•…〈…〉•…mour should he suffer 〈…〉
AS soon 〈…〉•…ter con•…〈…〉••••verance from death 〈…〉 Seymour as far as possible by ••…g himself for not avowing the relation between him and Charlotte before their engagement but from a false punctilio he had thought it beneath an officer to use any argument in his defence except his sword and therefore by his manner had rather confirmed lord Seymour in his error of supposing him his rival than undeceived him for which he begged both his lordships and his sisters pardon
HE then gave her an account of the interview he had with his father and of the disgust and surprize which the general expressed at seeing him and that he had peremptorily commanded him to quit Paris and join his regiment immediately and farther informed him that if he attempted to disobey he would have him broke with infamy
HE said he had however reason to hope that the misfortunes he had met with had softened his fathers heart as he had been attended during his illness by the first surgeons in Paris who came to his assistance unsent for and unpaid by him and that if his sufferings had made his father relent he should for ever bless the hand that had inflicted them
THE pleasing hope of her brothers recovery was the most healing balm that could have been administered to Charlottes wounded heart She no longer trembled for his life or what was dearer still lord Seymours and she began in some measure to be reconciled to her fate merely by reflecting that it might have been more wretched
NOTWITHSTANDING all her efforts now to conquer it her passion for lord Seymour remained undiminished and she would have given worlds had she been mistress of them to undeceive him But though her faithful Nannette had made the most diligent search for him from the time that captain Beaumont was pronounced out of danger she could not discover his retreat
THE time now approached for Charlottes fulfilling the vow she had made to heaven by taking the veil The cruel madame de Beaumont had made several fruitless efforts to prevail on the abbess to suffer her removal to another convent but as she feared to appear publickly in soliciting it lest the affinity between them should be revealed she at last contented herself with endeavouring to enforce the utmost strictness and severity which their rules would admit of with which the poor innocent sacrifice unreluctantly complied
AS soon as captain Beaumont was tolerably recovered he wrote again to his sister to inform
her that he had received an order from his colonel to join his regiment immediately and at the same time a positive command from his father to leave Paris without seeing her He conjured her in the strongest terms to renounce the veil and to fly to lord Seymour for protection and told her he was certain that his lordship was still in Paris as he had just then discovered that he was the person who appointed and paid the surgeons for their attendance on him
THE fair disconsolate was now so enured to affliction that she bore this fresh mark of her parents inhumanity with gentleness and resignation but alas there was a woe superior far to all they could inflict and which like Arons rod had swallowed up the rest Lord Seymour thought her guilty still
SHE had preserved the pacquet she had made up for him on the evening of their last interview and on the day preceding that on which she was to make her vows she received the following lines from him
To mademoiselle de BEAUMONT
THOUGH I approach you now with less terror madam than when I last presumed to address you still does my beating heart and trembling hand avow your power and amply revenge your sufferings on the wretch who dared to offend you But since it has pleased heaven to repair the cruel injury I did you by restoring my rival to your prayers and wishes will not the gentle Charlotte condescend to pardon and pity the unhappy man who once thought fatal delusion himself honoured with her love
I FLY from Paris madam from the sad scene of all my sorrows but they alas will be companions of my flight Yet let me take one blessing with me a last if not a kind adieu from you
As you talked of returning to England I never will revisit it—the sight of the detested Seymour no more shall shock your eyes or damp your joys—but let me wander where I will the warmest effusions of this still doating heart shall to its latest throb be poured forth in blessings on Ah I had like to have said my angel Charlotte My hand refuses longer to obey its wretched master and I can hardly say
THIS dreadful conflict past she felt a dawn of peace beam on her mind and immediately gave orders that no letter or message should be brought to her She passed the night in fervent prayer and at the break of day summoned her young companions in the convent to adorn her for the sacrifice with all the dignified composure with which a queen puts on her regal robes
HER conduct during the awful ceremony has been already described by lord Seymour and sure a heart more truly virtuous or a form more exquisitely fair were never offered up at any shrine And may that gracious power to whom they are devoted bless all her future days with that
sweet peace which goodness bosoms ever
THAT my dear Emily may not again reproach me for attending equally to foreign and domestic affairs I shall answer her two last letters before I speak my sentiments of the truly amiable and unhappy Charlotte Beaumont And first of the first—Though you have desired me not to reply to it I find the subject so very interesting and alarming that I cannot in justice to you or myself comply with your request—
YOU certainly must have lived some days upon essence of tea and reduced your nerves to the lowest state imaginable before your mind could be affected by the circumstances you mention Not that I would insinuate that lord Woodvilles sudden confusion was not the effect of a quick recollection or consciousness of some former scene which he perhaps might wish to have forgot In all probability it arose from the remembrance of some disastrous love adventure which obtruded itself involuntarily upon his mind
THIS point which you have barely hinted at I shall take for granted and then endeavour to
shew you the absurdity of being alarmed on such an occasion Lord Woodville is now in his eightandtwentieth year and has lived both in forreign courts and at home as much in the gay world as any man in England—And can my dear Emily really suppose that she was the first object of his love—Impossible It is much more reasonable to imagine that he had felt that passion half a dozen times at least before she was out of her hanging sleeves
BUT all girls flatter themselves with the entire possession of an husbands heart which if he happens as in your case to be seven or eight years older than her is no more in his power to bestow than youth or beauty But if he generously grants you all that remains at that time in his gift you have not the least right to complain and this I firmly believe lord Woodville has done Beware then my Emily of appearing ungrateful for this present nor let him ever see that you do not consider even the remnant of his heart as a full equivalent for all your own This I must confess to be a very unequal lot of affections but the conditions of life should be acquiesced in without too much refining—
THERE never was an higher instance of delicacy than lord Woodvilles behaviour to you in consequence of the temple adventure but do not give him too frequent opportunities of exerting his gallantry—you are a musical lady and know that a string may be strained till it breaks I am perfectly acquainted with the tenderness and sensibility of your nature but you are not to judge of others by your own fine feelings or think your husband deficient in affection if he is not so minutely attentive to trifling circumstances
as your delicacy may prompt you to expect
LES petits soins belong most properly to female life the great cares of the world are load sufficient for the ablest man I have now done chiding I hope for ever as I never can he angry with my Emily but when she wounds herself
THE description of your rural entertainment pleased me much—Whenever I go to Woodfort you shall take me to see your pocket Arcadia—No upon second thoughts the scene would he incomplete without a swain I therefore desire you will present my compliments to Sir James Thornton and tell him that I appoint him my Cecisbeo for that party if we should ever happen to meet at your house
I AM not at all sorry that lord Seymour has left you—The constant anguish which he must ever feel was sufficient to infect you all This naturally leads me to the charming nun I cannot forgive your want of ingenuousness in not mentioning the million of tears her story must have cost you—there never was any thing more affecting—Lucy and I read and wept by turns—When one of us began to faulter the other endeavoured to relieve her but there were many passages that neither of us could repeat aloud and only gazed silently on through the dim medium of our tears
IT really requires a perfect certainty of the facts to suppose there ever were such monsters in nature as the general and madame de Beaumont But Charlottes unhappy fate is but too strong a voucher of their inhumanity Yet miserable as the lovely vestal is I think lord Seymour much more wretched—Time devotion and a thorough consciousness of the rectitude of all her actions may calm her sorrows whilst
his must for ever be aggravated by knowing that he has rendered her unhappy I think him truly to be pitied Adieu my Emily—Loves and good wishes from all here accompany this to Woodfort
I HAVE at present a house full of company and therefore must content myself with barely acknowledging the receipt of my dear Fannys friendly admonitions which I frankly admit to be just though I feel they are severe Call me no more a spoiled child when I so readily embrace the rod
LADY Lawson has been here these three days There have been odd reports about Sir William and the young lady I formerly mentioned to you who went to London a few days before him But I am persuaded they are false for on Sir Williams return last night lady Lawson received him with the most genuine and unaffected delight that could be expressed in looks or words and I hear that miss Fanning that is the ladys name is to return to LawsonHall in a few days The knight appeared a little embarrassed but that might be owing to the meeting his lady in so much company we were all assembled at tea and knew nothing of his return
YOU must not expect me to be a constant correspondent from York the fatigue of dressing twice nay perhaps thrice a day will afford me but little time for more rational entertainment
There are no moments which I think so totally lost as those spent at the toilette but the customs of whatever place we are in must be complied with Your Emily has not resolution sufficient to stem a torrent and must therefore always be carried away with the stream I will however keep a sort of journal of the occurrences of each day and you must accept of that in lieu of my letters
MY reason for not avowing how much I was affected by the story of the nun was to avoid taking off that surprize which gives strength to every emotion—When we are told that a tragedy is extremely tragical we summon our resolution to oppose the feelings of our hearts and frequently suffer our pride to conquer its most graceful weakness whereas when we are taken by surprize we give nature fair play and do not attempt to combat with our humanity
I OUGHT perhaps to be more thankful to my dear Emily for her last short letter than for any other she has written to me There is certainly the highest degree of merit in giving pleasure to others when the effort is attended with trouble or difficulty to ourselves The bestowing a quarter of an hour upon an absent friend while we are surrounded with the chearful
gaiety of present ones should always be considered as an high compliment
YOU may see by this remark that I set a proper value upon your kind attention but I am still more charmed with your condescension in admitting the justness of my arguments Believe me my dear if we wish to be happy we must make it a constant rule to turn awy our eyes even from the minutest failings of those we love the suffering our thoughts to dwell long upon them must insensibly lessen our affection and of course our felicity
THERE cannot in my mind be a more pitiable object than a virtuous woman who ceases to love her husband—What a dreadful vacuity must she feel in her heart How coldly and insipidly must her life pass away who is merely actuated by duty unanimated by love
WHERE there never has been passion there may for aught I know be a kind of mixed sensation compounded of esteem and mutual interest that supplies the place of affection to the insensible part of mankind—If this were not the case the generality of married people could not live so well together as they do—But this wretched substitute will never answer to a man or woman who has once truly loved
I WOULD therefore most earnestly recommend it to all those who are so happy as to be united to the object of their choice to set the merits and attractions of each other in the fairest point of view to themselves and never even for a moment to cast their eyes on the wrong side of the tapestry
YOUR account of the kindness with which lady Lawson received her wandering swain very fully proves that she is an excellent wife but is by no means a refutation of the reports relative
to him and miss Fanning Your ignorance of the world and its ways make such scenes appear extraordinary to you—But alas they are too frequent to be wondered at in such times as these
I SHALL not my dear Emily insist upon your writing from York if it is inconvenient to you but as Fanny Weston tells Lucy that you do not set out from Woodfort this fortnight every day of which I dare say she thinks a year I may flatter myself with the hopes of hearing from you perhaps more than once before you go
THAT surprize encreases our emotions I readily admit but as you had no reason to doubt the tenderness of Lucys nature or mine you might have communicated your own sensations without fear of abating ours
SIR John is gone to London for a short time and Lucy and I are to spend the days of his absence not in retirement as you might possibly suppose but in discharging a heavy debt of visits which we owe to all the neighbourhood for five miles round I think there are few small evils that torture us so much as what is generally called a good neighbourhood in the country
HEALTH and her fair handmaid chearfulness attend my dear Emily
MY dear Fanny is extremely kind in seeming to set so high a value upon my small or rather no merit in writing to her for indeed I can never claim any for what is to me the highest self indulgence—So a truce with your compliments my too civil sister
DO not be angry Fanny but I really cannot think with you that true affection should be founded on illusion which must be the case if we are to be totally blind to the failings of those we love—On the contrary I have always considered the raising our ideas of the persons we are to be united to too romantically high as one great source of matrimonial unhappiness By that means we became enamoured of a being which exists not in nature and feel ourselves mortified and displeased as at a real disappointment when we discover that our imagination has exceeded the bounds of possibility
BUT if absolute perfection were to be found on earth it would wound our selflove and whatever injures that can never be long dear to us In the imperfections of our most amiable friends we find a consolation for our own which forbids despair and places the generality of mankind pretty nearly upon a level This equally creates confidence and that naturally produces esteem and love
AS these are my real sentiments I think I may venture to tell you that I am very sorry I have never been able to discover one failing in my lord I declare Fanny this is a humiliating situation to a creature so conscious of a thousand weaknesses as I am instead of restraining me from searching for his faults I desire you will immediately provide me with a magnifying glass to assist me in the discovering them
WHAT an horrid idea have you conjured up of a woman who ceases to love her husband There can be but two causes in nature that are capable of producing such an effect—for I talk not of those animals who never felt passion—The first of these must be a constant series of ill treatment which I suppose may at length conquer the tenderest affection and the unhappy sufferer who continues to act up to her duty under such circumstances deserves in my mind a much higher fame than any Greek or Roman that ever yet existed
THE other cause must be owing to a shameful and vicious depravity of heart commonly called inconstancy which to the honour of our sex I think I may say is not frequent amongst us But when this happens to be the case there is generally some new object in view for that despicable wretch
a woman of gallantry never changes her first love till she is engaged in a second
I THANK heaven for my ignorance of the world and its ways as I hope and believe I shall never have any trial that may render a knowledge of them necessary I know not what to think with regard to lady Lawson but for my own ease I will hope the best as it is impossible
that I should be indifferent to any thing that distresses her
SIR James Thornton has had an ugly fall from his horse and strained his right arm but has not received any dangerous hurt though he is confined to his chamber Lady Harriet and Fanny Weston are indefatigable in their attendance on him I just now received a message from him to inquire my health which seems a kind of tacit reproach for not having been to visit him—My sister Lawson and I spent all this morning in designing plans for a woodhouse—but as we are neither of us partial to our own inventions we have laid them by and determined to be rather good copyists than bad originals We have both agreed that it was possible to devise any thing more truly elegant than that on the terrace of Taplow which is to be our model I have barely time to finish this to dress and look in upon Thornton before dinner Adieu my dear Fanny I may hear from you again before we set out for York
AS I am perfectly convinced that in the account of our correspondence I am much your debtor on the article of the entertainment I am pleased at having a little adventure to relate to you though I cannot hope that the
recital will afford you as much pleasure as the action gave me but you must make the same allowance as you do for a play in your closet and furnish out all the scenery decorations c from the storehouse of your own imagination
MY tale runs simply thus—As Lucy and I were returning home last night from lady Vaughans about eight oclock the sky quite dark and rainy one of the hind wheels of our carriage flew off but as we were travelling at a very slow pace in a miry road we received no hurt from the accident—We were about three miles from Straffon Hill which was rather too far for us to walk as we were by no means accoutred for Peripatetics and just as ill qualified for an equestrian expedition we therefore sent off the postilion on one of the horses to bring the coach to us—
WE saw no friendly cottage near but at the distance of a quarter of a mile in the fields which seemed to us bright
as the Arcadian star or Tyran Cynosure
one of the servants discovered a path that seemed to lead to the mansion from whence these charming beams had issued
WE took him with us and setting forward soon reached the small but hospitable dwelling When we knocked at the door a little neat country girl appeared and after conducting us into a small parlour said she would acquaint her young lady that there were strangers there but that her mistress was at her devotions We announced ourselves to the girl and she retired
I WAS surprized at this young creatures mode of expression she seemed greatly amazed at our appearance but her astonishment could only be discovered by her looks In a few minutes an elegant young woman about eighteen entered
the room and after saluting us very gracefully inquired to what happy accident she was indebted for the honour of our visit
THE courtliness of her address and the ease of her manners were all new subjects of wonder both to Lucy and me which we could not help expressing after we had informed her of the accident we had met with She very politely offered us tea or coffee—we declined both—but there was a mch higher treat in her power namely the gratification of our curiosity which we could not however venture to propose
WHEN we had sat about a quarter of an hour the little servant came in and said her lady was come out of the chapel and would be glad to see us—we were immediately shewn into a room the neatness and elegance of which it is impossible to describe at the upper end of it on a small sofa sat a woman with the finest form though pale and emaciated that can be imagined
SHE rose to receive us with such an affable dignity as at once attracted our respect and love she was dressed in black and appeared to be about five and thirty—though she spoke perfect good English there was just so much of the foreign accent in her utterance as must prevent your taking her for a native of this country
OVER the chimney of the chamber we sat in was a picture of a very handsome young man and at the other end of the room there hung one of the lady before us in all the bloom of beauty with her daughter then about four years old by her side and a boy that looked like a cherubim seated in her lap
AS I gazed on every object round me with looks of admiration which the lady of the house could not help observing she turned to me with an engaging smile and said the surprize which
your ladyship is too polite to express in words is so porfectly visible in your countenance that it would appear like affectation to seem insensible of it and as there is no part either of my past or present life that should cause a blush to grow upon my cheek I am ready to gratify that curiosity which the extraordinariness of my situation seems to have raised
IT will probably be near an hour continued she before your carriage can arrive and a much less time will serve to relate the few though uncommon events that have placed me in the circumstances you now see me Both Lucy and I expressed our gratitude for such an obliging offer in the warmest terms and intreated she would proceed—without more ceremony she began
I AM a native of Italy and descended from one of the most ancient families of the republic of Genoa—About twenty years ago I became acquainted with a young English nobleman called lord Somerville whose picture you see there pointing her beautiful hand towards the chimney he was then upon his travels and under age—He became passionately in love with me and soon inspired me with more than gratitude with honest heart felt love
WITH my permission he applied to my father for his consent to our marriage well knowing that he could have no exception to his birth or fortune We had not the least apprehension of my fathers refusal—but we had both forgot that my lover was an heretic This was deemed by him so material an objection to our union that he declared he would confine me to a convent for life rather than hazard my salvation by such a marriage—My lover was forbidden to repeat his visits and I was sent about twenty leagues off into the country
LORD Somerville soon discovered my retreat and got access to me by the treachery or zeal of a servant who was intrusted with the care of me My father was informed of our interviews and determined to send me directly to a convent at Naples where an aunt of my mothers was lady abbess A particular accident let me into the secret of my intended doom and I no longer hesitated to prefer love and liberty to cruelty and confinement After lord Somerville had given me the most solemn assurances that I should preserve my religion inviolate we were married and set out privately in a felucca hired for the purpose which conveyed us both to Marseilles
WHEN we came to Lyons we were obliged to wait there for remittances from England before we could proceed farther After having long expected them in vain my lord received a very severe and angry letter from his father accusing him with having stolen the daughter of an Italian nobleman and commanding him to restore me to my parents and return immediately to England
THE distress of my husbands mind upon this occasion was not to be concealed but it was a long time before he acquainted me with the real motives of his concern Fondly and passionately as I loved him I would have torn myself from his arms and gone into a convent till his fathers resentment might have been appeased if my condition would have permitted it
BUT I was then far gone with child of that young lady before you and he in the tenderest manner assured me that not even the commands of a father should have power to force him from me till he had the happiness of being
himself a parent and of seeing me in a situation to support his absence or able to travel with him
WE had lived in the utmost retirement and privacy from the time of our arrival at Lyons—My lord had taken the name of Fortescue and no creature except his banker knew who he was—We were so perfectly happy in each other that we wished for no other society—my lord amused himself with teaching me English—with such a tutor I soon became a considerable proficient and at the time that my Laura was born I could read and perfectly understand the most difficult English authors
AS soon as I was quite recovered we set out for Paris where my lord purposed leaving me while he went over to England to pay his duty to his father and to endavour to reconcile him to our marriage I will not take up your time with attempting to describe our mutual sufferings at our separation such forms as yours must have feeling hearts and you can judge better than I describe what we endured
MY Lord remained above a year in England making repeated but fruitless efforts to conquer his fathers resentment against a person who had never in thought offended him but alas my being a catholic was as unpardonable a crime to him as my dear husbands being a protestant was to my father Strange that the worshippers of one God and Saviour whose doctrine was peace and good will to men should feel such enmity and hatred to each other
AT my lords return to France I could not help perceiving a visible change both in his health and spirits though his fondness for me was undiminished or if possible seemed to be increased by his tenderness for his daughter who was then near two years old As my lord concealed
great part of his fathers unreasonable aversion to me I was not without hopes that time would conquer his prejudices which indeed I only wished upon my lords account for while I enjoyed the real happiness of his company there was not a desire of my heart ungratified
IN less than a year that infant whose portrait you see there was born—From the time of his birth my lords health and spirits seemed to revive and I then certainly reached the zenith of human felicity alas how quickly did the wheel turn round to lay me in the lowest state of misery With what rapture have I seen him catch the infant in his arms and say this boy this boy my love will plead our cause with my obdurate father and soften his hard heart Would he were three years old—but that blessed time will come and we shall all be happy—
WHILE lady Somerville repeated the foregoing words her countenance became more animated than it is possible to describe but a sudden gush of tears soon dimmed the brilliant lustre of her eyes and quenched the glowing crimson on her cheek She rose and opening a small folding door retired into the chapel
THE young lady sympathized most sincerely with her mothers sorrow and Lucy and I who were extremely affected were scarcely capable of making proper apologies for having been the innocent cause of renewing both the ladies afflictions Miss Somerville said every thing that politeness could dictate to make us easy and in a few minutes lady Somerville returned with such an air of calmness and resignanation as amazed me
I TOOK the liberty of entreating that she would not proceed farther in her story for the present But as I could not avoid being extremely
anxious about every circumstance relative to so amiable a person I requested she would permit me to wait upon her the next day or when ever it was most agreeable to her inclination
SHE told me she was very sensible of the delicacy and propriety of my request which she readily assented to as it promised her the happiness of another interview with persons for whose sensibility and politeness she had conceived the highest respect said she was a little ashamed that her long acquaintance with grief had not yet rendered her so familiar with it as she might naturally be supposed to be but hoped we would excuse the sudden emotion which had for a few minutes transported her She then intreated our company to drink tea the next evening and said she would if possible be more composed
IN about a quarter of an hour the coach arrived and we took leave of this charming unfortunate with the most earnest desire to renew our visit and the warmest hopes of being serviceable to her and her daughter
I AM really fatigued with this long letter but I would not suffer oblivious sleep to steal any part of this axtraordinary adventure from my memory till I had communicated it to my dear Emily By next post you shall have the remainder of the story till then and ever
I am affectionately yours F STRAFFON
LUCY and I set out immediately after dinner yesterday and reached lady Somervilles elegant cottage before five oclock As we approached it by daylight we discovered many beauties that had been hidden from us by the dun shades of night particularly several small clumps of trees that were encircled with woodbines orange and lemon gourds and intermixed with a great variety of flowering shrubs—a small but neat garden at the bottom of which ran a rivulet so clear and sparkling as to appear like liquid diamonds
AS we drove by the pales of the garden we perceived a building in it that seemed to be fitted up for a gardeners house and to our great astonishment beheld a man of a very respectable appearance about sixty years of age seated in an arbour with a book in his hand We were received by both the ladies with the same politeness and affability as the day before The folding doors which led to the chapel stood open and indeed Emily there is no describing the elegance with which the alter is adorned
I AM an enemy to all devotional parade yet I could not help considering the decorations of this sacred spot rather as the offerings of the heart to heaven than a sacrifice to vanity as all the ornaments that are placed there were the work of lady Somervills and her daughters hands
AS soon as tea and coffee were removed lady Somerville without waiting to be intreated proceeded in her narrative thus—When I mentioned
my having reach• the pinnacle of human felicity I forgot to inform you that my father had been reconciled to me for some time and on the birth of my son had presented me with his picture set with diamonds and desired the portrait of my lord and those of my children
BUT before this request could be complied with I had the misfortune to lose my only parent—His death was sudden and he died without a will This was the first real affliction I had ever known and my lord in order to divert my melancholy proposed our going to the south of France
I ACQUIESCED in his desire on his account more than my own for as his constitution was become extremely delicate I hoped the change of air might be of service to him We lived at Mantauban for near two years during which time I had the constant anguish of beholding my dear husbands health decline daily
AS he was perfectly sensible of his own situation he determined to take his little family to England and present his son to his unkind father Every thing was fixed for our departure when Providence to whose allwise decrees I bow myself beneath the dust thought proper to recall the treasure he had lent us and took my little cherubim to join the heavenly choir
NO words can express the affliction of my loved lord nor describe the wretched state both of his mind and his body Whole days he hung enamoured over the pale beauteous clay that was his child nor would he be prevailed upon to resign it to corruption till weakness left him not the power of opposition
FROM that time he sunk into a state nearly approaching to insensibility towards every thing
except myself but to his latest moment his tenderness for me was undiminished Why should I dwell longer upon a scene which but to think of now strains every nerve and makes the blood run backward to its source My misery was completed by his death in less than six weeks after that of my lovely boy
But I will stay my sorrows will forbid
My eyes to stream before thee and my heart
Thus full of anguish will from sighs restrain
For why should thy humanity be grieved
With my distress and learn from me to mourn
The lot of nature doomed to care and pain
YOU may suppose that lady Somerville was for some time deprived of speech nor was there one of us capable of interrupting the melancholy silence but by our sighs She however soon dried her tears and resumed her discourse—I shall relate the rest of my story said she though totally uninteresting to myself as it will account for my present situation
I WAS about four months gone with child at the time of my lords illness and his last request to me was that I would if possible lyein in England and acquaint his father with my pregnancy as soon as I arrived there He told me that if the child I carried should be a son it would inherit the fortune and honours of his family but if not that there was no provision made for me or any daughters I might have as he was under age at the time he married and that the estate was intailed upon a very distant relation He implored me to preserve my life for the sake of the poor Laura and to throw myself and her into his fathers protection
AS it is utterly impossible that I should give you an adequate idea of my situation at that time I will not attempt it but endeavour to cast a veil over that scene of distress which no pen no pencil can ever be able to describe
I SET out from Montauban with my maid my chaplain and my child and arrived safe in London I obeyed my dear lords request and wrote immediately to his father His lordship was then in the country He answered my letter with great civility mixed with an affectation of kindness said he should be in town shortly that he would then see me and desired I would take care of myself for the sake of the unborn babe which he hoped would prove a son and heir
IN a few days after I had received this letter I was informed that there were persons appointed to attend me till I was brought to bed lest I should impose a surreptitious child upon the family I knew not that such proceedings were usual in my case and I wrote a letter to my fatherinlaw complaining of such treatment to which he never deigned a reply
BUT all their apprehensions on my account were soon over I was delivered in the seventh month of a dead son and from that time I heard nothing farther from my lords father or any of his family for above six months The little money I had brought with me into Egland was now quite exhausted and I was obliged to apply heaven knows how unwillingly to this inhuman parent for some means of support for his sons widow and grandchild
IN his reply to my letter he told me what I knew before that neither my daughter nor I were entitled to any thing by law that therefore he advised me to go back to my own country and he would furnish me with money to carry
me there provided I would leave Laura in England to his care That if I should refuse these terms I must even provide for myself as it was not his purpose to offer me any others
WHEN the mind has been once totally subdued by sorrow we flatter ourselves that we are incapable of being wounded by any new distress but the idea of being torn from the dear remains of my loved lord my only child convinced me that there were still some arrows in the quiver of adversity that had not yet been pointed at my peace
I DID not hesitate one moment to determine that no consideration should make me consent to a separation from all that was now dear to me on earth I must indeed have been absolutely void of humanity as himself if I could have resigned my child into the hands of a man who had neve• even desired to see her before
I WROTE immediately to my brothers at Genoa and acquainted them with my distress They very kindly assured me that they would receive me and my daughter with open arms at our return but if it should be my choice to remain in England they would take care that I should not want a support there They immediately remitted me bills for a thousand piasters and agreed to settle the same sum annually upon me or more if I should have occasion for it
AT this instance of generosity and affection my heart once more became expanded with gratitude to the Almighty and with true sisterly tenderness to my benefactors I now began to make the first efforts towards subduing the violence of my grief and to be sensible that I might have been rendered still more wretched than I was by the deprivation of my child or our being reduced to slavery for bread
I SOON fixed upon the plan of life which I meant to pursue and sent my worthy chaplain and my faithful maid in search of a retirement such as you now see In this spot I have lived about eight years in which time I have had no manner of converse with any human creature but my own family which now consists of my daughter my chaplain and myself my gardener his wife and the little maid their daughter whom your ladyship has seen
THE only additional misfortune I have known in this place was the loss of my faithful Maria she died about two years since and as my daughter was then of age not to need her attendance I have never attempted to supply her place
RUSTICATED so long as we have been you will not I hope ladies be surprized at the simplicity of mine or my daughters manners—Our situation is certainly a very extraordinary one and must naturally have raised your curiosity which I have endeavoured to gratify by a plain and artless narrative
I WISH for your sakes as well as my own that my story had been less affecting but I shall not make any apology for having drawn forth the lovely drop of sympathetic sorrow which glowed with brighter lustre on your cheeks than the most costly brilliant
BOTH Lucy and I poured forth our thanks for her kindness and condescension in relating her story admired the constancy of her resolution in remaining so long in retirement but seemed to hope that she might change her purpose I saw she was displeased at such a hint but with great politeness said it was the only subject she did not wish to hear us talk upon as it would always give her pain to dissent from our opinion which
she must ever do both in word and deed upon that subject
I THEN ventured to ask her if she wished that miss Somerville should pass her life in such a state of seclusion She said by no means—so far from it that she sent forth a thousand fruitless wishes that some lucky accident might happen to introduce her to persons of sense and virtue and of a proper rank to lead her gently into life that she had heard the characters of all the persons of fashion in that neighbourhood from her chaplain who frequently mixed with the world in order to transact her affairs—that as she was above flattery she was also superior to disguise and frankly owned that her utmost wish in this world would be gratified if lady Straffon would promise her protection to her dear orphan
I SCARCE suffered her to finish the latter part of her speech before I flew to and embraced her and with great truth assured her that my inclinations met hers more than half way I begged that from that moment she would do me the honour to consider me as her sister and that the lovely Laura might be henceforth deemed my niece
EVERY thing that delicate gratitude could dictate was uttered upon this occasion and we all appeared to be infinitely happier than we could have supposed it possible for us to be in so short a time after having been so very much afflicted
LADY Somerville concluded with informing me that her fatherinlaw had been dead about fouryears and had left miss Somerville sixthousand pounds We agreed that Lucy should bring Laura to StraffonHill tomorrow and I promised
to convey her back to her ladyship whenever she required her attendance
YOU cannot my dear Emily yes you can conceive the sincere pleasure I feel at having it in my power to oblige the amiable and unfortunate lady Somerville It must certainly be an infinite relief to her mind to know that her daughter has a friend and protector in case Providence should be pleased to put a period to her woes and take her to his mercy But she must necessarily suffer a great deal in being separated from her till use shall have made it easy
LAURA is but just seventeen though she looks rather older from the gravity and dignity of her appearance I flatter myself you will receive some entertainment from this narrative which I have been as exact in as my memory would permit and indeed it has for the time so intirely engrossed my attention that I am pretty sure I have not omitted a circumstance of any consequence
I EXPECT Sir John will return from London the beginning of next week—I hope he will be charmed with our young visitor and that lady Somerville will suffer him sometimes to spend an hour with her
I am as usual affectionately yours F STRAFFON
I MOST sincerely congratulate my dear Fanny upon the acquisition she has made to her happiness by her acquaintance with lady Somerville There was something extremely romantic in the opening of your adventure and I almost began to imagine that you had taken a trip to Fairy land but every circumstance though surprising at first is very naturally accounted for in the course of your narrative I truly compassionate the unhappy ladys situation and again felicitate you on having it in your power to remove a very material part of her distress by affording your friendship and protection to her daughter
LADY Somervilles misfortunes are of the hopeless kind it is not in the power of fate to restore her husband or her son and slight observers would for these reasons pronounce her much more wretched than those who are led on by a faint glimpse of hope to wander through the thorny paths of life in search of some imaginary bliss which still cludes their grasp But I think otherwise When the grave closes on our joys our prospect of this world must all end there we can no more deceive ourselves or be deceived We sink it is true and fall with the dear prop which fate has torn away Then reason and religion come to our aid and when the first wild sta•ts of grief are over an humble acquiescence in the divine will sooths our sad souls to peace or hopes spring forward to another goal and pierce beyond the stars
BUT while vain doubts and fears torment the heart while passion has possession of the soul and
still impels us forward through amaze where our bewildered reason finds no clue where peace is lost and keen disquiet fills its vacant place where our desires are raised but to be mocked and cruelty repaid for artless love—Sure sure this state is worse far worse than lady Somervilles She feels the stroke of death but lady Harriet feels a living torture inflicted too by whom her soul adored
I HAVE been led into this reflection by observing that lady Harriets health and spirits have declined visibly ever since her unlucky interview with captain Barnard and I am certain that his almost perpetual residence at RansfordHall increases her disquiet In his first act of inconstancy she might with great reason imagine that fortune only had turned the scale in favour of her rival and she had still the melancholy consolation of supposing herself beloved though by a worthless man
HIS present attachment can arise only from choice or galantry and it is certainly much more difficult to bear contempt than injury Had he died at that time he left her in Paris her grief for his loss would by this time have been softened into a gentle melancholy which though it might for ever have barred her pretensions to happiness would not have rendered her half so wretched as she is at this moment and I fear will ever be
LET not what I have said upon this subject make my dear Fanny think that I am not extremely affected with lady Somervilles distress—I acknowledge that her sufferings have been great but they certainly came to a period when her husband died and time has I doubt not insensibly lessened her affliction I also hope that
there is yet in reserve for her the felicity of seeing her daughter amiable and happy
I AM so sincerely charmed at the hope of your prophecy in favour of lady Somerville being immediately accomplished that I can neither think speak or write upon any other subject—Sir John returned from London in two days after Laura had become our guest she and I were just come back from paying an evening visit to lady Somerville when he entered the drawing room and introduced a young Italian nobleman who had been recommended to him by one of his most intimate friends at Paris
I NEVER beheld a handsomer youth tall graceful and finely made with the strongest expression of sense and sweetness in his countenance—as he cannot speak English our conversation was intirely Italian in which though Lucy and I are tolerable proficients we were greatly excelled by Miss Somerville who has had the advantage of conversing with her mother in that charming language from her earliest infancy
THE first two or three days that our young
foreigner spent with us we imagined that his devoting the largest share of his time and conversation to Laura was owing to the easy fluency with which she spoke his native language but his motives remained not long doubtful he became very particular in his inquiries about her to Sir John who gave him the fullest information of her birth and situation in life He seemed charmed at the account of both and from that time his assiduity towards her appeared less embarrassed
NOR is the gentle heart of Laura insensible to his attentions her blushes when he is mentioned and down cast looks when he addresses her plainly discover the state of her artless mind She is really a very fine creature Emily and I am truly anxious for her happiness She has a sensibility a frankness a delicate ingen•ousness of nature not to be found in those who have had much commerce with the world which she owes to her sequestered education with a parent whose natural softness has been increased by a long acquaintance with affliction
BUT to the purpose—Last night the enamoured Lodovico explained his sentiments to Sir John and intreated him to prevail on me to introduce him to lady Somerville though he confessed that he found Laura extremely averse to a proposal which must for ever divide her from the tenderest of mothers but as she seemed to have no other objection he flattered himself that this might be surmounted
SIR Johns friend lord Mount Willis who recommended Lodovico to him informed him that he is descended from one of the first families at Genoa that he is an only son intitled to a very large fortune and still possest of a much higher treasure—an unexceptionable character
I NEEDED not much persuasion to enter upon such a pleasing embassy—I waited on lady Somerville this morning she seemed a little alarmed at Lauras not being with me I quickly removed her apprehensions by explaining the cause of my visit She heard me with the utmost attention but could not help dropping some tears when I mentioned Lauras objection to quitting her
LADY Straffon said she when I had finished my discourss though my girls affection awakens all my tenderness for her I will not suffer her to sacrifice her welfare to my selfish satisfaction—The world contains but one object for me let her be happy and contribute to the happiness of a deserving husband and I shall taste the only joy my heart is capable of And should that long absent guest ever deign to visit me again it is to you the blessed minister of Providence to whom I am indebted for its presence
I ENDEAVOURED to restrain the grateful effusions of her generous heart by assuring her that I felt almost as much pleasure as even she could be sensible of from the prospect of Lauras future happiness—We then agreed that I should bring Laura and Lodovico to wait upon her in the afternoon—The instant I return I will acquaint you with the result of our visit till then
In continuation
JOIN with me my dearest Emily in rejoicing at the happiness which opens to the view of our amiable friends But I will not detain you from the events which create their present joy I carried my two young guests Laura and Lodovico this afternoon to lady Somervilles cottage she received us with her usual grace and elegance but when I presented signior Lodovico to her I fancied I perceived a change of countenance which I knew not how to account for However she presently recovered herself and continued to entertain us with the greatest politeness
AFTER tea I took Laura into the garden under pretence of admiring a little grotto she had lately finished in order to give the young gentleman an opportunity of explaining his sentiments to her mother We had not been ten minutes absent when the little country maid came running to us and desired we would return immediately
WE were not a little surprized at this summons but judge how our wonder was increased on finding lady Sommerville with her eyes streaming and Lodovico seated by her with an air that spoke him a sharer in her emotions The moment we entered the room she started up and taking her daughters hand come said she come and embrace your cousin the son of that friend that more than brother to whom we have been indebted for the means of life so many years
POOR Laura was unable to speak but her eyes fully expressed the tender and grateful sentiments of her heart The enraptured Lodovico seemed totally absorbed in the pleasure of gazing on her—After some time lady Somerville turning to me said You see before you my dear lady Straffon the only son of count Melespini—The instant I saw him I was struck with the resemblance of that much loved brother—But how could I flatter myself with the happiness of beholding his son
AND now my dear children continued she though my consent awaits ye be assured that without the courts concurrence this union never can take place write to him therefore Lodovico and let both him and you rest satisfied that his will shall in this affair determine mine
IN the mean time I hope said she your ladyship will dispense with Lauras attendance at StraffonHill Perhaps my brother may have other views for his son if so it is best not to indulge an affection too far which may be productive of unhappy consequences for be assured that however deserving the object however virtuous the attachment no marriage can be truly blest that pains a parents heart—A too energic sigh accompanied these words but added she when lady Straffon honours me with her company I hope my nephew will attend her
IT was very visible that Lodovico complied reluctantly with these conditions and perhaps Laura for the first time found obedience difficult—But as her ladyship seemed determined a bow of assent was the only reply that was made Signior Lodovico and I returned home soon after this conversation
BY the way he accounted to me for not knowing
that lady Somerville or Laura were related to him as he had always heard them call Statevilla which is their name in Italian I find he intends making as much use as possible of the privilege of attending me to lady Somervilles so that I expect to pass much of my time at the cottage
HE is now retired to acquaint his father with the happy discovery he has made of his relations and his sentiments towards his fair cousin I shall be truly impatient for the counts answer—I hope it will be favourable if it should not I fear all lady Somervilles precaution will be insufficient to prevent the attachments of the young people though I believe it would be impossible to draw Laura from her obedience
I HAVE been so much engaged in the affairs of the Somerville family for these two days that I have scarce had leisure to think of my own—You may therefore excuse my not entering upon the critical distinctions you have made on the various modes of misery in your last letter I heartily wish you would take the opposite extreme for your subject and descant on your own happiness which I believe to be as perfect as this frail state will admit of May it long continue so sincerely wishes
Your affectionate F STRAFFON
I DO indeed my dear Fanny sincerely rejoice at the pleasing prospects which seem to open to your new friends I also congratulate you on being in so high a degree instrumental to their happiness—I think I may almost say that Providence seems to interest itself in the future sate of the amiable Laura
THERE is something very particular in your becoming accidentally acquainted with Lady Somerville so critically—Had your meeting with this charming woman been deferred but a month longer the connection between ye might in all probability have been only productive of unavailing good wishes and mutual esteem—but the lucky arrival of signior Lodovico has made
you a principal performer in the great drama of Lauras life
THOUGH not an absolute predestinarian I am apt to believe that there is a sort of fate in marriage and as one absurdity creates another I find I must lean a little to the Manichean doctrine to establish my thesis by supposing that there is a good and evil genius which presides occasionally at that great crisis on which all the colour of our future lives depend I sincerely hope that Lauras union with the young Melespini will be completed under the happiest auspices—I do not feel one doubt arise in my mind with regard to his fathers consent—The only cloud which I foresee to intercept the brightest sunshine will arise from the separation of lady Somerville and Laura—but that like a cloud also will pass away—for though the tenderest affection for a husband does not oppose the natural claims of parents or relations on our hearts i• in some measure lessens their force—Our hopes and fears are directed to another object and selflove strengthens our attachment to that person on whom we find our happiness depends
YOU see I have a passion for philosophizing upon every subject—where incidents do not abound it would be impossible to keep up even a monthly correspondence without these little aids I will not call them arts for I detest the mean idea which is conveyed by that expression
I SHALL be glad to have my expectations gratified by hearing of the counts immediate concurrence with his sons inclinations—In the mean time I beg you to present my compliments to lady Somerville and her fair daughter and to assure them that I regret my not having the pleasure of being known to them—Fanny Weston is quite transported at the happy meeting of
Lodovico and Laura but says she can so scarce believe it true because it is likely to send so fortunately
I CAN perceive that lady Harriet has doubts with regard to the event but as she finds me sanguine on the subject she suppresses them—Sir James Thornton with a sigh exclaimed what an happy man is Lodovico to find the object of his passion disengaged This has left me more in the dark than ever with regard to his attachment for I am pretty sure lady Harriet is not his object
I CANNOT help remarking upon this occasion how much the particularities of our own situation affect our judgments with regard to others and how much more than we are willing to allow our opinions are warped and biassed by it even in matters that appear indifferent to us—Adieu my Fanny—True love from me and mine to you and yours
MY dear Emily shall from henceforth be our augur—Be her predictions fortunate and be they ever verified
THE wished for pacquet is at length arrived—it contained a letter for Lodovico and one for lady Somerville—The moment he had read his which was fraught with congratulations from all his friends and the most plenary indulgence from
his fond father to his ardent wishes he intreated me to go with him instantly to the cottage—We almost flew there and Lodovico in the highest rapture acquainted lady Somerville and his loved Laura with the glad tidings
LADY Somerville received the news with tears of joy conflicting passions warred in Lauras face gladness and grief took turns The bright suffusion of her cheeks the brilliant animation of her eyes expressed her heart felt joy but when she turned those eyes upon her mother their radiance was obscured by starting tears the transient roses fled from her fair cheeks and left the lily mistress of the field
LADY Somerville was affected by these sudden emotions and retired to peruse her brothers letter—She returned soon and giving it into my hands said with a sigh by this you may judge if I flattered my brother by calling him the most generous of men Alas why must I appear unworthy of his kindness by declining it but when he knows my reasons for so doing I hope he will acquiesce in them and pardon me
UPON reading the counts letter I found that after testifying his joy at his sons attachment to Laura he added that it was from the mothers hand he hoped to receive the daughter and conjured her by the friendship that had ever subsisted between them to return to her native country with her children to hold the first place in his house and to contribute by her presence to restore that happiness which had been deeply wounded by the loss of an amiable wife
WHEN I had finished the letter which I read aloud I feel myself unhappy said lady Somerville in not being able to comply with my kind brothers request—It is long much longer than I thought it would be since I devoted the remant
of my wretched days to solitude—Here I have lived and here will pass that portion of my life which heaven may yet allot me
AS she spoke I thought I saw her expressive eyes fixed on her lords picture as if addressing her vows to him But she had scarcely finished when Laura springing from her seat fell at her mothers feet and catching her hand cried out My more than parent is it possible your love for me should have so little power and could you part so easily with her whom I have often heard you call the living transcript of your dear dead lord But Laura must not cannot quit her mother all pleasing prospects vanish at that thought which makes the word appear even more a solitude than ever I found this cottage
THE parents heart was touched—No my beloved child said she I will not bar your happiness—Since you desire it I will again behold the fatal place which gave me birth and even strive to lose the sad remembrance of my griefs in your felicity—I owe this sacrifice to Lauras filial tenderness—What would my child have more
TEARS and embraces supplied the place of language or rather superceded it for some time but when their emotions had subsided the young pair expressed their joy and gratitude at lady Somervilles condescension in the most proper terms and the evening was spent in such a manner as could only be pleasing to those who are blest with feeling hearts
THE count has accompanied his letter with a very noble present to enable his sister and niece to appear as the widow and daughter of lord Somerville—There is something above pride in that thought
AS Lodovico and I returned home he entreated me to use my interest with lady Somerville to consent to his being privately married by her ladyships chaplain before they set out for Genoa—I think she can have no objection to this request
I HOPE I shall be able in a few days to send my Emily an account that this affair is happily concluded
Till then adieu
WHEN the subjects are pleasing I find narrative writing not so dull as I once thought—I begin to fear I shall make but a poor figure in the epistolary way when I have concluded my little novel → for I honestly confess that my dear Emily beats me all to nothing in the moralizing strain—Sorry am I on this account only that I must now proceed to the denoüement of my simple yet interesting story
LADY Somerville desired two days to consider of Lodovicos proposal at the end of that time she expressed her consent in a most elegant letter to me—She said that as she had on every occasion concurred with my requests she hoped I would not think her too presuming to make one to me which was that I would accept of her cottage with every thing which it contained except her lords picture and that with my permission she would fill its vacant place with Lauras portrait
I WAS both pleased and distressed at her politeness and generosity—I accepted her present
—In that charming sejour I shall spend many hours in thinking of its amiable owner and in reflecting on the inscrutable ways of Providence who after so many trials has been pleased to restore this valuable woman to her country and friends
SUCH characters as hers were never meant to droop in obscurity she owes herself to society and will I hope recover some degree of that happiness she thinks totally lost in the exercise of those virtues which in her retired state she could never be called on to exert
SLIGHT as the preparations were for a wedding which it was determined should be private they took up every moment of our time till yesterday morning when Lodovico Lucy Sir John my little Emily and I set out together for the cottage before breakfast—We were received by lady Somerville and the charming bride with that graceful ease and politeness which is the result of good sense and operates equally upon all occasions After breakfast Sir John led Leura into the chapel Lady Somerville presented her hand to Lodovico the priest and alter were prepared Sir John had the honour of personating Lauras father and had the pleasure of compleating Lodovicos wishes by bestowing her hand where she had already given her heart The servour of lady Somervilles devotion was truly edifying when the ceremony was over she endeavoured in vain to suppress her tears but they were tears of joy
SIR John presented the bride with a pair of earrings and a cross of diamonds and I had the pleasure of placing my picture in a bracelet upon lady Somervilles arm From the elegence of our dinner and supper at the cottage I apprehend that lady Somerville is one of those extraordinary
characters who do not think that the most refined understanding or the most exalted sentiments place a woman above the little duties of life
THE new married couple are to dine with me this day Sir John is gone to try if he can prevail upon lady Somerville to accompany them Next week they set out for Genoa they are to occupy our house in town while they stay in London M•y their voyage thither and through life be attended with prosperous gales Amen and adieu
I SINCERELY congratulate my dear Fanny on the fortunate denoüement of her pleasing and interesting narrative and join in her good wishes for the happiness of lady Somerville and the new married pair—As you seem inclined to rally me on my turn for moralizing I shall not exert it at present though I think lady Somervilles story a very proper subject for it
BUT to deal inge•…ously I have a stronger reason for declining to expatiate on it than what I have mentioned which is my being stinted in time as I am going to dine at lord Witherss where we shall stay this night On Thursday we are to dine at Sir William Lawsons and Friday is fixed for our setting out for York
THIS short letter will probably be the last you will receive from me till my return from thence If I were superstitious I would not go
to York as I cannot help feeling a kind of presentiment against it Why did lord Seymour attempt to inspire me with this disgust I will not reason farther upon the subject
Obedience is better than SACRIFICE
but pray is not that sometimes the greatest we can make
AFFECTIONATE regards and sincere congratulations wait on the hosts and guests at StraffonHill from all this house and from
IN justice to those friendly apprehensions which you seem to suffer on my account I think I ought to inform you that the somuch dreaded event of an interview with the marchioness is over without my being sensible of the least ill consequence from it All lovely all engaging as she is I had armed my heart with the remembrance of her former treatment and though the little rebel did flutter at her sight I think its emotions were rather the effect of resentment than a softer passion
THE worst symptom I discovered in myself I will be perfectly sincere was my being piqued at the composure of her air and deportment when she first saluted me Is it possible Seymour she can be really indifferent or is it only the artifice of her sex that makes her appear so
AS the room was very full and she stood at some distance from me before I could approach her she was taken out to dance by lord Bellingham—When her first minuet was over she desired
I should be called out and though I felt the utmost reluctance to accept the compliment it was impossible to refuse I am certain I never acquited myself so ill in my life You have seen her dance and therefore know that the eyes of the whole company were engaged by her and my confusion passed unnoticed
AS I led her to her seat she wished me joy and asked if the fair cause of it was in the room I answered yes—She then intreated I would present her to lady Woodville whom she longed to see more than any person in England as lord Seymour had told her that she was a perfect beauty
I MADE no reply hut led her to the place where lady Woodville sat who received her with the utmost ease and politeness I swear to you my dear Seymour that Emily never appeared half so lovely in my eyes as at that moment The innocence and gaiety of her heart lighted up her charms and I flattered myself that the marchionesss brow seemed overcast with the pale hue of envy
LADY Harriet and she renewed their acquaintance they all soon after joined your sister Sandford and continued in the same party for the remainder of the evening I danced country dances with one of the miss Broughtons and returned home triumphing in the just preference which my heart accorded to lady Woodville on the comparison I had drawn in the ball room between her and the marchioness
FEAR for me no longer my too timid friend but congratulate me on the most arduous of all victories having conquered myself
HotWells Bristol
I Thank you for the attention you have shewn to those apprehensions which you seem to think groundless I did not expect to hear from you during your stay at York The constant hurry and dissipation of the scene would have been a sufficient excuse for your silence both to me and yourself if you had not fancied you had not good news to communicate
I KNOW you incapable of the smallest deceit and am certain that you think your last a faithful transcript of your heart But alas my friend you impose upon yourself if you imagine your passion for the marchioness extinct or that it is possible for you to give a preference however justly deserved to any other woman breathing Therefore for the truly amiable lady Woodvilles sake I conjure you to avoid all future comparisons as I think it will be highly injurious to her merits to put her on a level with that object which your partiality has made you look upon as the standard of perfection
AFTER the confession of my own weakness I condemn myself for reasoning with you upon this subject—I know it is preaching to the winds—Our passions make our fate and we ought to suffer without repining those calamities we bring upon ourselves but what philosophy should enable us to bear the heartrending agonies of having involved the innocent in our punishment
and rendered the amiable and deserving unhappy Who can speak peace to my sad heart when I reflect upon the miseries in which I have plunged the everdear Charlotte Beaumont
I KNOW this horrid image will shock your nature and for a time you will shudder at yourself But quickly say these are the gloomy visions of Seymours disturbed brain I would not make my Emily unhappy for the world—then fly directly to the marchioness to banish the sad thought—But I have done for ever on the theme for if this picture does not speak to your heart I cannot paint more strongly
I Confess your last letter shocked me extremely but not from the motives you may possibly imagine I am truly grieved to find your mind so overclouded or ingrained with the dark tints of melancholy as not to allow your reason fair play Answer me were you not just then returned from the methodists chapel when you sat down to write When I expected congratulations songs of triumph and the laurel wreath how could you cruelly pop an old fashioned prophecy
upon me of what never was nor is nor ever shall be
BUT away with thy dismal presages thou PseudoMagus Have I not told thee infidel as thou art that no action of my life should ever discover the real state of my heart to lady Woodville or make her think it was not all her own Have I not been married above eight months and am I not now just as tender and obliging as the first day we were united
HADST thou real pity or compassion thou wouldst advise me to desist from my pursuit of the marchioness on her account rather than lady Woodvilles O Seymour what a triumph would it be if I could humble this proud beauty and pay her scorn for scorn again reduce her to that soft trembling voice with which she first uttered those dear sounds I love
RECAL her image to your view on the first night we met her at the Bois do Boulogne—What perfect beauty amazing grace and native modesty beamed round her angel form—There is a picture for you and I hope much more to the life than your Tisiphone
I HAVE often thought of asking you by what talisman or spell your heart was preserved from becoming her instant victim you did not know your Charlotte then Perhaps you felt the marchionesss power and loved like me but in pity to your friend endeavoured to suppress your passion I should adore you if I thought it were so
I DO not think her half so beautiful as she was then though her person is much more improved—She can be gazed at now without a blush and wears a rouge I suppose in order to heighten the finest complexion in the whole world
WE 〈…〉 on the raceground She ha•…〈…〉•…old a Pharobank for her at 〈…〉•gaged me to prevail on lady Wood•…〈…〉 of the party—She seemed vastly •…med with her but whenever she mentions her assumes a peculiar air of sensibility—I think I heard her sigh when she pronounced the name
WHAT an odd mortal was I to sit down to write when I have scarce time to breathe Sir James Thorntons mare was distanced he has lost above five hundred pounds but what is much worse I think he has lost himself—I never saw such an alteration in any creature I am almost sorry I brought him to Woodfort
THE ladies fancy he is in love but I cannot get the secret out of the simpleton Lady Woodville and her nymphs are much yours I intreat you will drink half a dozen bumpers of Burgundy before you sit down to write again to
AH Seymour what a tale have I to unfold to you I am undone for ever lost to virtue relapsed again to all my former follies—I doat I die for love Do not despise me Seymour but once again stretch forth thy friendly hand and strive to save a sinking wretch Alas
it is in vain fate overwhelms me and I must yield to the impetuous torrent But hear my story first before you pronounce stern sentence on me and guilty as I am perhaps you will pity me
FOR some days past the marchioness contrived to throw herself perpetually in my way and strove to engage me in the most interesting conversations by hinting at particular scenes in which we had formerly been actors Fool that I was the recollection charmed me and my weak heart expended with delight at the repetition of its former follies
LAST night your sister lady Sandford not being well declined going to the ball The marchioness sent to lady Woodville to desire she might attend her to the rooms Emily politely assented and they went together—she returned and supped with us
AFTER supper she said she hated being cooped up in a carriage at the course and asked if I could lend her a horse for the next day The ladies informed her that no woman of fashion ever appeared on horseback at a race She replied she had no idea of a salique law imposed by jockies that she despised all vulgar prejudices and would be the first to break through this arbitrary rule if she could engage any lady to accompany her
SHE soon prevailed on miss Weston who rides remarkably well to be of her party and again applied to me for a horse I told her I had not one that had been used to carry a lady but if she would venture on that which I usually rode it should be at her service
SHE accepted my offer and after dinner the next day Fanny Weston Ransford and I attended her at lady Sandfords and sure there never
was so lovely a figure as she made on horseback
Diana huntress mistress of the groves
The charming Isabel speaks looks and moves
WHEN we came to the raceground all the company thronged round her and though the horses were then running she seemed to be the sole object of every ones attention She affected to be displeased at the general gaze and said if there was room in lady Woodvilles carriage she would get into it We rode up immediately to it but on perceiving that Emily was in the chariot and lady Harriet with her she would not suffer me to mention her design lest it might be inconvenient to my wife whose present condition is now very apparent
THORNTON was by the side of the chariot talking to the ladies who were in it He immediately retired to make way for us to come close A croud had followed us and some one of their horses struck that on which the marchioness rode—it immediately made an effort to disengage itself from the throng and in spite of all she could do ran away with her with such amazing swiftness that it seemed to outgo all the racers
I FOLLOWED instantly—O Seymour judge of my emotions when I saw her fall to the groud when I came up to her she was senseless her eyes closed and her face covered with blood and dust I raised her in my arms and held her to my breast but unable long to sustain her weight in that posture I sunk down gently held her on my knees and gazed in stupid silence
AT that instant numbers came up to us among the rest Thornton and lady Woodville who on perceiving blood upon my cheek fainted—She might have fallen to the earth for me I was insensible to all the world Thornton luckily caught her in his arms and conveyed her to her chariot
NOTWITHSTANDING all the applications that were used the marchioness seemed irrecoverable and my despair is not to be expressed A gentleman that was present opened a vein in her arm She then lifted up her languid eyes and looking round her closed them quick again and whispered as she lay upon my bosom
I die my lord but ought not to repine since I expire within your arms
A CRIMSON blush succeeded to her palenese and a vast shower of tears soon followed I know not what reply I made but I have reason to suppose it must have been expressive of the complicated passions which affected me I carried her in my arms to lady Wintertons coach and conveyed her in that manner to your sisters
We had all the assistance this place could afford My spirits are so extremely harrassed that I cannot write more than just to give you the satisfaction to know that she is not in danger—would I could say as much
AS soon as the fair invalid was laid on the bed and the medical tribe who were summoned from all quarters had performed their usual evolutions of pulsefeeling profound looks and long prescriptions I knelt by her bedside and tenderly inquired her health She told me that though much hurt she did believe the only incurable wound she had received was given by herself in the weak confession she had made when she thought her situation had placed her beyond the necessity of longer disguising the tender sentiments she felt for me She would give worlds to recal what she had said but as she knew that was impossible begged I would not despise her or meanly think her capable of a design to rival lady Woodville and that the moment she was sufficiently recovered she should fly me and England for ever
THINK of my situation Seymour and forgive my weakness while I tell you I poured forth all the fondness long concealed even from myself within my labouring bosom and swore with too much truth I never had one moment ceased to love her She sighed and wept I kissed her lilly hand and bathed it with her tears
HOW much longer we should have continued in this situation I know not had I not been roused by a message from lady Woodville to inquire the marchionesss health and an excuse for not making the inquiry in person on account of
her own indisposition I started Seymour—and recollected that I had a wife
I FLEW home instantly found Emily had been blooded and put to bed—I rejoiced at being able to avoid the sight of that amiable woman said I would not disturb her by going into her chamber and ordered another bed to be got ready for me against night
CONSCIOUS guilt will make a coward of the bravest man I could not bear my own thoughts—I dreaded being alone I went to the coffeehouse to drown reflection in noise and nonsense The conversation turned intirely on the accident that had befallen the marchioness and I replied with the utmost complacency to every trifling question that was asked because it related to her
I SOON grew weary of this scene I walked out and found my steps insensibly straying towards the marchioness—By chance I met Thornton who with more liveliness in his looks than I have seen for a long time told me lady Woodville was much better and would be glad to see me that she had expressed some uneasiness at their not suffering me to go into her chamber when I called at home though she was then asleep
I WENT directly back with him and saw my Emily she looked pale and dispirited questioned me with great tenderness about the marchioness and said the fright she had suffered on her account joined to her apprehension of my having received some hurt had quite overpowered her but she would endeavour to become a stouter soldier Sweet gentleness how thy soft looks upbraid me
I DETERMINED not to go to the marchioness that night but sent to know how she did and sat
down to write my last letter to you In that and this are contained only the transactions of one fatal day—Where my narrative will end I know not but the only relief that is at present left me is the pouring out my heart to you—I again implore you to pity its weakness and pardon its follies
TOO cruel Seymour how am I to interpret such an obstinate silence am I so far sunk in your esteem that you disdain even to hold converse or correspondence with me Now was the time to have exerted all your friendship and stopped me on the very verge of ruin—But you disclaim the painful office of counselling an incorrigible selfwilled man and I now triumph in your cold neglect Lest to myself in such a critical juncture I have a higher pride in being able from my own conduct to claim your friedship and esteem than I could have felt had I acted conformably to your prudent advice and declined the meeting of my most dangerous foe
THE morning after the date of my last I was surprized to find lady Woodville in the diningroom dressed and waiting breakfast for me when I came down stairs between seven and eight oclock—I thought she looked paler and more delicate than I had ever seen her with an air of resignation impressed upon her countenance which added to its natural sweetness had rendered her one of the most interesting objects I had ever beheld The tenderness with
which I enquired her health seemed to animate her languid frame and her eyes quickly recovered their native lustre
AFTER breakfast she proposed accompanying me to see the marchioness I was embarrassed beyond measure but knew not how to prevent her doing what appeared to be so proper Just then Thornton luckily came into the room which afforded me a moment to recollect myself I told her I thought it would be better to send first to inquire how the marchioness had rested and whether she was yet able to receive our visits Emily seemed to blush at her want of consideration and readily assented to my proposal
WILLIAMS was dispatched with a card and soon returned with a verbal answer that the marchioness was much better and would be glad to see us I hoped she would have had address enough to have saved me from the embarrassment which such an interview must give me But there was now no retreating and Emily and I got into the chariot together
WHEN we were shewn into the marchionesss apartment she was lying on a couch in the most elegant dishabille—What a subject for an Apelles Seymour It was with difficulty I could restrain myself from expressing the transports that I felt She rose to receive lady Woodville with such an air of graceful dignity as queens might gladly learn I saw that Emily blushed and looked confused at her amazing superiority but was relieved by the entrance of your sister lady Sandford
THE marchionesss behaviour towards me was remarkably cold and distant and I thought she overacted her part so much that any other woman in the world but Emily must have perceived something extraordinary in the change
of her manner but happily lady Woodville is a stranger to suspicion
YOU may suppose our visit was not a very long one yet it appeared to me insufferably tedious and I thought myself more obliged to Emily when she rose to go away than ever I had been to any one in my life I had the happiness to hear that the marchioness had received no hurt from her fall that could be of any ill consequence the blood that appeared was from a slight contusion in her nose
RANSFORD came to wait on her while we were there and as he handed my wife to her carriage and I was quitting the room the marchioness with the utmost fierté though in a low voice said lord Woodville return instantly or never
THE manner with which she pronounced these words astonished and confounded me I then saw that her behaviour towards me was the effect of resentment not art—yet how had I offended how forfeited that tenderness which she expressed for me the day before Inexplicable creature mysterious woman of all riddles the hardest to be expounded by the boasted wisdom of thy vassal man
I BOWED and withdrew in the utmost amazement at her conduct and by vainly endeavouring to account for it I fell into such a profound reverie that I did not even perceive the motion of the carriage till it stopped at our lodgings
I RHEN felt myself ashamed at not having taken the least notice of Emily during our little journey and by way of saying something told her I had heen considering whether we might not set out for London the next day if it was agreeable to her She smiling said my will was
hers and though quite unprepared for such an expedition as she did not know I purposed going so soon she would be ready at what hour I pleased
I KNEW not what I said when I talked of London and had not the least intention of carrying her there but my blunder was lucky as it gave me an opportunity of paying a well deserved compliment to her complacency and condescension and also of paying the way to my going without her if the sovereign arbitress of my fate should command me to attend her I likewise appeared to have the merit of sacrificing my own inclination to hers by readily consenting to her returning to Woodfort
UPON these terms we parted and I set out with a slow pace and a disturbed mind to measure back the ground I had just passed During my walk I reflected upon the disagreeable necessity I had laid myself under of acting the hypocrite with a woman whose amiable qualities compelled me to esteem her and whose personal charms fully intitled her to the fondest affection of an unengaged heart Deceit cannot dwell long with honour and I determined either to sacrifice my passion to my virtue or at once to triumph over character honour and every other consideration in life and act the villain boldly
ALMOST distracted with the struggles of my mind I entered the marchionesss apartment I found her lying on a couch with a handkerchief close to her eyes which she removed upon my entrance and showed her lovely face all bathed in tears I advanced with precipitation and would have kissed her hand but she withdrew it from me with such an air of coldness and disdain as almost petrified me then rising briskly said is your wife with you
I GRAVELY answerd no She then burst into a violent passion of tears and exclaimed Ah Woodville after what had passed between us but a few short hours ago how could you use me thus How did you dare to insult me with the presence of that object whose legal claim to your affection renders mine criminal
I WAS so much alarmed and confounded at the vehemence of her voice and manner that I knew not what answer to make but told her it was lady Woodville who had proposed our coming together and that I knew not how to avoid attending her without running the hazard of giving her offence
WHAT then you fear as well as love her and you avow it to my face—I would not willingly madam inflict unnecessary wounds upon the victim I have sacrificed to you nor add brutality to perfidy—Her colour •o•e to crimson
SO then my lord you vainly hope to keep a flame alive in two such hearts as mine and lady Woodvilles to love en Turk and play our passions off against each other for your sport—Amazing vanity But know it will not do my lord her soft insipid nature might perhaps submit to be the loved sultana of the day then yield her place to me or any other and meanly take it back again from your caprice but I will reign alone or else despise that transitory toy the empire of your heart
YOU may remember madam there was a time when more than you now ask or I can give my hand and heart were offered at your feet you then disdained to accept them they are no longer free For doating on you as I do with all the fervor of distracted passion I cannot be insensible to the merits of unoffending
IF the frankness of this confession madam should exclude me for ever from your love I have the consolation to know that it must insure me your esteem—Without some claim to the latter I should be unworthy of the former But if under these unhappy circumstances you still can condescend to feel that passion which you have profest let me upon my knees conjure you to tell me how I may preserve my honour without forfeiting what is as dear to me your love
I HAD knelt at her feet during the latter part of this discourse—Her eyes had streamed—I do not blush to own that mine were not quite dry She remained silent for some minutes and when I pressed her to speak she replied with a determined voice and manner There is no alternative my lord you must fly with me or never see me more
I HAD dreaded such a proposal yet could scarce believe she would make it and with the utmost agitation cried out Impossible But before I could utter another syllable she laid her hand upon my lips and said I command you silence—You must not shall not answer me I know you are to quit this place immediately would I had never seen it But as you are now to determine the fate of one whose love for you has made her leap the bounds prescribed to her weak sex O do not reply rashly but take the last moment that can be allowed before you pronounce the doom of a fond wretch who has placed more than her l•fe—her happiness or misery—in your power
I ROSE and bowed totally unable to speak
or even to think from the confusion of my ideas She took advantage of my silence to tell me she would not receive any letter upon this subject from me but that she expected to see me at twelve oclock next day and smiling added l•st you should f•rget I will present you with a little monitor which will remind you of your absent friend
SHE then gave me her picture which I had a thousand times in our first acquaintance solicited in vain I kissed it with transport See here said she and drew a miniature of me which I had formerly given her out of her pocket and now take care that you preserve my image as carefully as I have done yours
THEN looking at her watch you must leave me it is near lady Sandfords dining hour and I must dress How slowly will the miserable moments creep till we two meet again But I shall defy time after that as it can neither add to or diminish from the felicity or anguish which must then irrevocably be my portion
I INTREATED her to spare me on that subject as she would not permit me to reply You must withdraw then immediately my lord for I can neither think or speak on any other theme She permitted me to kiss her hand before I left her and seemed to have conquered all those violent passions which possessed her at my approach I confess I quitted her with infinite reluctance and so I now must you
I PARTED from the marchioness in a more irresolute and confused state of mind than I had ever before experienced I well knew that all the colour of my future fate depended on the resolution I was compelled to make within a few short hours I found it absolutely impossible to determine on any thing from a consciousness of the importance of my final determination
NEVER sure had reason and passion a severer strife One moment I resolved to sacrifice every thing to love to fly with my adored Isabella into some distant country
and live in shades with her and love alone
The next instant the image of the gentle Emily obtruded itself upon my imagination in her present situation pale and dying Methought I heard her last soft sigh express my name I felt myself a murderer and started at my shadow
IN this distracted state I had wandered a considerable way in the field and saw night coming on apace without power or inclination to think of returning to York when I heard the sound of a horse galloping towards me—The man who rode him called to me to direct him the nearest way to the town and also if I could inform him where lord Woodville lived
THE sound of my own name surprized me and I inquired his business—The fellow quickly knew me he instantly alighted and told me he was a servant of Sir Harry Ransfords and had been sent express to let his young master know that lady Ransford had eloped two days before with captain Barnard and that it was
supposed they were gone either to France or Ireland He added that the poor old knight was almost distracted for the loss of his lady and wanted his son to pursue the ravisher
THE servant pressed me to mount his horse and expressed his simple astonishment at my being by myself in such a lonesome place at that hour I refused his offer and we walked on together It was near eight oclock when I got home and as it was the last night of the races I did suppose Emily was gone to the ball—but I found her alone
I THOUGHT she looked as if she had been in tears though her eyes sparkled when she saw me This little circumstance had its full weight and the unaffected joy she shewed at my return without seeming to be alarmed at my absence when contrasted with the violence of temper which the marchioness had discovered in the morning so far turned the scale as to determine me to remain a slave to the obligations I owe to my wife and the world and though I am persuaded that I shall never be able to extract the arrow from my wounded heart I will suffer it to rankle there in silence and endeavour to derive fortitude sufficient to bear the anguish from the noble consideration of having sacrificed my pleasure—I must not stile it happiness—to my duty—What would my friend have more
MY mind grew much calmer after these reflections—In order to prevent my relapsing I locked up the marchionesss picture in my writing box and threw the key into the fire that it might not be in my power to gaze away my reason for that night at least
EMILY was much surprized at the account of lady Ransford and captain Barnard—her own innocence keeps her a child—She begged
LADY Woodville and I supped tête á tête the young folks as she calls them though they are all older than herself staid late at the ball—I was impatient for Ransfords return and had sent to the assembly room to look for him but he was not there—I ordered every thing to be in readiness for his setting out immediately on his filial errand
WHEN the ladies and Thornton came in I retired to my chamber to wait for Ransford By frequently revolving my unhappy situation in my mind I began to consider it in a new light which at once encreased my misery and confirmed me in the justness of the resolution I had before taken of bearing it in silence Upon strict examination I found I was the only culpable person of the three and therefore ought to be the only sufferer—
WRETCH that I was I had deceived myself and in consequence of that error I had imposed upon another How vain to imagine that the marchionesss cruel treatment of my love her preferring age and infirmity to me on account of superior rank and riches had supplied me with arms sufficient to vindicate my freedom and break her tyrannic chains O Seymour they are twined about my heart and nought I fear but death can loose them
IT was near three oclock when Ransford came in he seemed in very high spirits—when I told him of lady Ransfords ill conduct he said he was not in the least surprized he had
long known that his stepdame only waited for a gallant who had spirit enough to engage in such a frolic with her and he thought his father had a fair riddance
I WAS surprized to hear him treat the affair so lightly as I know him to be a man of nice honour I then asked him whether he intended going immediately to his father he answered no said he was engaged in a pursuit of the utmost consequence which he could not quit and that he did not believe he should see RansfordHall for some time
I TOLD him I thought his father would have reason to resent his neglect and pressed him to wait upon him though but for one day He persisted in his resolution and we parted I think it odd that Ransford did not communicate his motives for acting in this manner to me—but what have I to do with other peoples affairs my poor tortured mind is sufficiently incumbered with its own
I THINK I need not tell you that I passed a sleepless night—At breakfast I told Emily that I should be ready to set out with her for Woodfort after dinner if she pleased She seemed delighted and the carriage was ordered at half an hour after four—I intreated Sir James Thornton to return with us for a few days he made a thousand excuses but at length complied at lady Woodvilles request
I WAS now to enter upon the most arduous task of my whole life that of taking an everlasting leave of the woman whome I doated on—and in this highest act of selfdenial I must appear to her a volunteer I am grieved that Brutus should have said
virtue was but a name
O let me bend before her awful shrine
and pay my grateful vows for the kind aid she lent me in that hour of trial
I ENDEAVOURED to assume an air of calmness on my entering the marchionesss apartment She fixed her eyes her piercing eyes in steadfast gaze upon me as if to read my soul A minute passed in silence I found she would not speak and hardly seemed to breathe You see before you madam an unhappy man who dares not purchase transport with remorse and therefore turns selfbanished from her sight whom most his soul adores
SHE quick exclaimed is it possible and am I then dispised neglected—for a wife Cold and unloving Woodville Why did you ever feign a passion for me Why strive to make me think it still subsisted in your frozen heart You cannot bear remorse Ungrateful man should not I have shared it with you Is then my fame less dear than yours and did I hesitate one moment to sacrifice that and myself both to you Obscurity and infamy were not bars to me whilst you infirm of mind desert the woman you pretend to love for fear your wife should cry
TRUE madam I replied I would not give her cause to weep for worlds—nay what is more for you You have acknowledged too that the step your kindness prompted you to take must be attended with severe regret also on your own part What should I feel then from rendering you unhappy I have not fortitude to brave such two fold agony
O you have half that guilt to answer for already—But my pride revolt at my own meanness Leave me Sir—leave me for ever Woodville I shall obey you madam but before we part for ever suffer me at least to satisfy your pride by declaring that no man ever loved
with fonder passion than I now feel for you—how far time and absence may be able to conquer it I know not but should they fail of their usual effects it is impossible that I should bear it long and now my Isabella one last embrace—may angels guard you
I RUSHED out of the house like a distracted man but had not walked a quarter of a mile before the rectitude of my conduct towards this too lovely woman began by flattering my pride to qualify my passion and I returned home in a more rational state of mind than I have known for some time
REJOICE with me my friend the conflicts past and be just enough to acknowledge my triumph more compleat than the much boasted one of Scipio He only resigned an alienated heart—while I forego a self devoted victim
I AM this moment going to step into the coach for Woodfort where I shall impatiently long to see you But O write soon to strengthen and applaud my growing virtue
HotWells
BELIEVE me Woodville there is not another event within the power of fortune which could now give me half the joy that I received from your last letter I do congratulate my noble friend myself and all the world on that heroic virtue which has enabled you to pass
the ordeal fire unsullied and unhurt Rather let me say that like the Amianthus you have gained new whiteness from the flames and shine with brighter lustre than even unblemished innocence can boast
I FIND my stile perhaps too much elevated by my sentiments but sudden transitions must have strong effects I had scarce a hope of your escaping the snare that was laid for you and mourned your fall from honour with infinitely more regret than I should have done your death Had the latter happened my grief would have been selfish but in the other case I felt for those pangs which you must have inevitably suffered and for the miseries which your crimes must have inflicted upon your amiable and innocent wife
BUT I do not wish again to recal this gloomy prospect to your view you may now and ought to look forward to a long train of hapiness for surely if such a thing is to be found en earth it must arise from a consciousness of having acted rightly Who then can be better intitled to it than yourself
AS I have found some little benefit from these waters I propose staying here some time longer—I shall then have some affairs of consequence to my fortune which I have too long neglected to settle in London So that I cannot hope to see you at Woodfort in less than two months
I INTREAT to hear from you often but must insist upon your not mentioning the subject of our late correspondence forget it Woodville and be happy
Note The journal promised by lady Woodville to lady Straffon is purposely omitted as it contains nothing more than an account of some of those particulars that have been already mentioned which happened during the week they staid at York races
The Editor
I FLATTER myself that this letter will reach Woodfort soon after your arrival there and that it will find my dear Emily rejoicing in the calm delights of domestic happiness after the scene of hurry and dissipation she has so lately gone through
I GIVE you credit for the lovely picture you have drawn of the marchioness and also for the tender concern you express for the accident that be•el her—but I am sorry your nerves were so weak as to occasion your fainting
I ALLOW much for your present situation but do not let that or any thing else my dear sister suffer you to indulge in an habitual lowness of spirits There is an air of languid discontent runs through the latter part of the little journal you were so good to send me that alarms me much—yet I am certain you endeavoured to conceal your sentiments even from me and I approve your caution as I am persuaded that by speaking or writing on any subject that affects us we strengthen our own feelings of it and half the simple girls who are now pining for love by murmuring rivulets or
in shady groves would forget the dear objects of their passion if they had not a female confidante as silly as themselves to whom they daily recount the fancied charms of their Adonis and utter vows of everlasting constancy
BUT do not now my dear Emily so perversely misunderstand me as to suppose that I would wish you to conceal any thing that distresses you from me or that I should desire you to let sorrow prey in silence on your heart merely to save mine the pain of suffering with you No I conjure you to speak freely to me and if I cannot cure I will at least sooth your anxiety if real and endeavour to laugh you out of it if imaginary
WE have had a very agreeable visitor for these ten days past at StraffonHill—lord Mount Willis—He lived abroad chiefly in Italy these ten years yet is not infected with foreign fopperies and can relish both the food and manners of his native country Sir John met him last at Paris from whence he is but just returned
HE tells us that Sir James Miller and his cara sposa are universally ridiculous Her ladyship affects all the lively gallantry dune dame Francoise but is unfortunately incumbered with all the clumsy aukwardness of a vulgar Englishwoman Sir James plays deep and has lost considerably Lucy seems hurt at the latter part of this account The goodness of her heart is inexhaustible
THE approach of a certain desirable event with that of winter will I hope soon afford me the pleasure of embracing my dear Emily and her lord We shall return to London in ten or twelve days Have you made any discovery in the terra incognita of Sir James Thorntons heart Does Fanny Weston sigh in concert
with the Aeolian lyre or have the equinoctial blasts so chilled her flame that she prefers a warm room and chearful company to lonely meditation and soft sounds
HOW does lady Harriet hear this second instance of captain Barnards perfidy and how does the poor old gouty knight support the vulgarly called loss of his detestible wife I find myself in a very impertinent mood and that I may not ask more questions in one letter than you may be inclined to answer in two I shall for the present bid you adieu
YES my dear Fanny I am now thank heaven safely arrived at Woodfort—would I had never left it I think even the place and every thing in it is altered during a short absence of twelve days The trees have lost their verdure and the birds cease to sing But though the autumnal season may have produced these effects I begin to fear there is a greater change in me than in any of the objects that surround me
YET am I in the spring of life not ripened even to summer while like a blasted flower I shrink and fade Say Fanny why is this The animal and vegetable world bloom in their proper season youth—while amongst those whom we call rational grief steals the roses from the downy cheek and flowing tears oft dim the brilliant eye Lord Seymour is unhappy
Thornton sighs and my loved lord seems wretched—need I go on and close the climax with my breaking heart
CHIDE me or chide me not the secrets out I am undone my sister in vain lord Woodville strives beneath the masque of tenderness to act a part which he no longer feels the piercing eyes of love detect his coldness—his kind attention is all lost on me his stifled sighs belie his face and tongue and whisper what he suffers when he smiles
O FANNY tell me how I have offended him how lost that heart which formed my utmost bliss let me blot out that passage with my tears it cannot it must not be—I will not live if I have lost his love Why are you not here to flatter me—to tell me that my fears are groundless and that he sighs from habit or from chance
AH no I since he whom I adore has failed to blind me I cannot if I would be now deceived Yet if I have erred why does he not speak out and tell me I have done wrong Believe me Fanny I have tried my heart examined every hidden thought thats there and cannot find out one that should offend him
ARE all men thus inconstant I was too young to mark Sir Johns behaviour when you were married first A sudden ray of hope now dawns upon me perhaps the great exertion of my lords spirits while he remained at York may have occasioned a proportionate degree of languor—perhaps he may again recover his natural chearfulness and your poor Emily may again be happy—perhaps—I will strive to hope the best
I HAVE no thoughts of going to London—I always purposed lying in at Woodfort—I had
flattered myself you would be with me at that hour of trial but I do not now expect it—I know Sir John would not consent to your runing the hazard of travelling in your present situation as it has formerly been of ill conseqence to you I therefore release my dear Fanny and desire she may not suffer the least anxiety on my account
I FIND myself much more at ease than when I began this letter and I must affirm though in contradiction to your opinion that pouring forth our distresses in the bosom of a friend affords at least a temporary relief to the afflicted I am not able to write more at present but will answer all your queries by next post—
Till then
THERE never sure was such a man as lord Woodville—he is not only determined to preserve my affection but to rob me of the poor consolation of complaining that I no longer possess his In spite of all the pains I have taken to conceal the anguish of my heart he has certainly perceived it and by the most tender and interesting conversation had well nigh led me into a confession of my being unhappy
THANK heaven I stopped just short of that—had I avowed it he doubtless would have asked the cause and artfully have drawn me in
at least tacitly to reproach his conduct O never never Fanny can I be capable of that indiscretion
BUT were I weak or mean enough to do it I have now no reason for complaint—his tenderness politeness and attention are unabated No other person but myself could possibly perceive the smallest alteration in his conduct and I begin to hope that my apprehensions have had no other foundation than an extremity of delicacy bordering upon weakness in myself A thousand nay ten thousand women might and would be happy with such an amiable and tender husband nor has your Emily a wish ungratified but that of seeing her dear lord quite happy
I AM sorry to tell you that Sir James Thornton leaves us tomorrow he is to set out immediately on the grand tour My Lord has in vain endeavoured to find out the source of his melancholy we can discover nothing but that he is unhappy which I am sincerely sorry for as he really is the most agreeable accomplished young man I ever was acquainted with
LADY Harriet affects to appear thankful for her escape from captain Bernard but finds his elopement a cause for sorrow on his ladys account Sir Harry is so much enraged at his sons neglect of him that he begins to be reconciled to his wifes conduct and speaks of him with more acrimony than of her Indeed I think Mr Ransford highly to blame for refusing to attend his father upon such an occasion
FANNY Weston is a la mort at Sir James Thorntons quitting us That love is the cause of her mourning I well know but I begin now to apprehend that Sir James and not lord Seymour is the object of her passion She has a
much better chance in this case than the other for I am persuaded if Thornton knew of her affection for him he would endeavour to make her happy
ALAS if he loves another how impossible I fancy he is enamoured of one of the miss Witherss—His fortune and family are such that I do not believe he would be rejected yet I could not wish him success for poor Fanny Westons sake
MEN more easily triumph over an unhappy passion than women Dissipation change of place and objects all contribute to their cure while perhaps the poor sighing fair one is absolutely confined to the same spot where she first beheld her charmer and where every object reminds her that here he sat walked or talked
I AM persuaded there is a great deal more in these local mementos than lovers are willing to allow I therefore shall not oppose Fanny Westons going to London if she should again propose it
SIR William and lady Lawson are to dine with us this day—I will try to muster all my spirits to receive her I would not for the world make her unhappy by giving her the least room to suspect that I am so
PS I have this moment received a message from my lord to let me know that he shall spend three or four days in hunting with Sir William Atkinson I am glad of any thing that can amuse him
I CANNOT express how much my dear Emilys last letters have affected and distressed me—Your being unhappy is certainly sufficient to render me so and what adds to my concern is my being absolutely incapable of affording you the least consolation as I am utterly ignorant of the real cause of your affliction I sometimes think that it is only a phantom conjured up by your too delicate apprehensions and is of course merely imaginary—At other times the natural constancy of men alarms me with an idea of lord Woodvilles having met at York or elsewhere some object that may for a time divide his heart with you
OBSERVE my dearest Emily that this is mere conjecture—but we must take certain positions for granted before we can reason upon any thing Now do not start when I tell you I had much rather your uneasiness should arise from the latter source than the former—though I should consider even a transitory alienation of his affection as a misfortune
LET us now suppose this to be the case and then see how far you have reason to be distressed by such an incident The passions of the human mind are I fear as little under our command as the motions of our pulse—you have therefore just as much reason to resent your husbands becoming enamoured of another person as you would have to be offended at his having a fever
BUT if in consequence of that delirium he should sacrifice your peace to the gratification of
his passions by an open and avowed pursuit of the beloved object or otherwise render you unhappy by unkindness or neglect you might then have some cause to complain but if he be unfortunate enough to feel an unwarrantable passion and keeps that feeling all his own his merit rises above humanity and he ought to become almost an object of adoration to you
HAS he not fled from this alluring charmer Has he not hid his passion from the world nor wounded even your pride Is not his tenderness and kind attention still unremitted towards you Indeed my Emily allowing these to be matters of fact you owe him more than you can ever pay Consider what his regard to you must be that can prevail on him to sacrifice his passion to your peace
THEN do not I implore you my dear child by even the least appearance of distress aggravate his but be assured that from a heart where honour is the ruling principle you have every thing to hope and that the transitory gloom which now affects him will be succeeded by the brightest triumph and that his reason and his virtue will both join in securing his affection to you upon a more solid and permanent foundation than it could ever have been if this accident had not happened
I HAVE gladly laid hold on what you will think the greatest evil lord Woodvilles having conceived an involuntary passion But formidable as they may appear to you believe me Emily it is of little consequence compared to both what he and you must suffer should there be found no real cause for your distress A mind so unhappily turned as yours would then appear to be must be incapable of receiving or administering
content I am shocked at the horrid idea and will not dwell upon it longer
AS I kept your letters in a particular drawer of my desk in looking for your last but one chance presented me with your first letter from Woodfort where you set out a strenuous advocate for the existence of terestrial felicity Fallacious as the opinion may be I am truly sorry you have had any reason to alter your sentiments but let it at least console you that if you are not an example of your own argument there is no such thing as an exception to the general rule that happiness is not nor ever will be the lot of human nature till perfection becomes inherent to it
THE subjects of this letter have sunk my spirits so much that I fear I shall rather increase than lessen your depression if I pursue them farther I will therefore change to one that ought to give me pleasure and will I hope afford you some
LORD Mount Willis thoroughly apprized of our dear Lucys former attachment to Sir James Miller has declared a passion for her in the most polite and elegant terms that can be imagined Sensibility he says is with him the highest mark of virtue and a heart that could feel what hers has suffered for an unworthy object must be capable of the highest tenderness for one who can at least boast the merit of being sensible of her charms
A LITTLE false delicacy has as yet prevented Lucy from declaring her sentiments in favour of this charming man for such indeed he is though I can see she likes him full as well and must necessarily approve him much more than she ever did Sir James Miller
BUT Lucy declared she would never marry and that she would leave her fortune to my Emily—I know this dwells on her mind though it never did on mine for I have as little saith in the vows of disappointed love as in the promises of successful ones However I both hope and believe that lord Mount Willis will triumph over her scruples and that I shall have the pleasure of seeing her the happy wife of that very amiable man
I AM sorry you are to lose Sir James Thornton but perhaps the want of his company may induce lord Woodville to come to London and I should rejoice at any cause that could produce that effect for I cannot bear the thought of your lyingin in the country
FANNY Weston is not of a temper to break her heart for love but I would by all means have her come to town Her aunt lady Weston talks of going to Bath next month and if Fanny chuses to accompany her I will answer for it that that gay scene of dissipation will soon conquer an hopeless passion whether lord Seymour or Sir James Thornton be the object
WE arrived in Hillstreet last Thursday tomorrow Sir John is to place my little Edward at Eton The simple mamma will feel the loss of her dear play fellow but the prudent mother will bless the memory of Henry the Sixth who instituted that noble foundation
THE accounts we have received of Sir James Miller are shocking—He has been obliged to quit Paris on account of his debts and is retired into some of the provinces—His lady remains in the capital living away upon credit without character I begin to pity the unhappy man
YOU will easily perceive that this letter has been written at different periods The world breaks in upon me I am embarked in the stream and must be hurried away by the current with sticks straws and a thousand other insignificant things
I AM sincerely sorry for having given pain to my dear Fannys gentle heart as I cannot say that her participation has alleviated my distress For giving the fullest scope to the arguments you have advanced what do they prove but that your Emily is unhappy and that she knew too well before You set lord Woodvilles merits in the fairest light cruel Fanny Why could you not find out some fault in him to make me love him less But it is impossible he is without dispute the most amiable of mankind
I TOLD you in my last that Sir James Thornton was to leave Woodfort the day following which was Tuesday On Monday night he took a very polite leave of us all and I thought appeared more chearful than he had been for some time past When we were at breakfast on Tuesday we were told Sir James had set out at six oclock and immediately after my lords servant presented him with a letter—he appeared to shew some emotion while he read it
and soon withdrew to his closet In less than half an hour I received the following billet with the aforesaid letter inclosed
I SHOULD be unjust to my unhappy friend should I conceal the noble and generous sentiments he expresses for the most lovely and deserving of her sex and I should still more highly injure the unbounded confidence of my dear Emily should I prevent her receiving the tribute due to that merit which could inspire so truly delicate and sincere a passion I feel I know not what kind of a mixed sensation for poor Thornton I both admire and pity him
I would have delivered the inclosed with my own hand but feared my presence might distress my Emily or perhaps restrain the pitystowing tear which I confess I think his sufferings merit
my dearest Emily
Indebted as I am for many obligations to your lordship and sensibly awake to the warmest sensations of gratitude I could not think of quitting Woodfort and England for ever without gratifying that friendly curiosity which has so often sought the cause of the too visible change in my manners and appearance You will perhaps be startled when I tell you that this alteration is owing to yourself
Ignorant of every refinement and elegance of life dissipated in my temper and unattached to any particular object by your lordships
friendly invitation I arrived at Woodfort—Heavens what a scence opened to my astonished sense The sudden effect of colours to a person just restored to sight could not be felt more strongly Every object I beheld was new was amiable yet in this charming groupe my lord there were degrees of merit and my then vacant heart dared to aspire at the most perfect of her sex Need I now tell you that lady Woodville was its choice Yes I avow it Passion is involuntary nor would I if I could be cured of mine
Yet witness for me heaven that sensual and abandoned as my past life has been no gross idea ever mixed with hers nor did her beauteous form ever raise one thought that even she need blush to hear
I DO not my lord affect to place this purity of setiment to the account of my own honour or even my friendship for you No I confess myself indebted for it to her charming image which ever appeared to my delighted sense accompanied by that uncommon delicacy that graces every word and action of her spotless life—That like a sacred talisman has charmed the unruly passions of my mind and made me only feel the pangs of hopeless love
Such a confession as I have now made my lord will I flatter myself intitle me both to your regard and pity I go self banished from all that I esteem and love from you and lady Woodville—It would be the height of impiety to doubt of her happiness and a long continuance of the blessings you now enjoy is the kindest wish that I can make for you Felicity like yours admits of no addition
When you have read this my lord burn and forget it but let the unhappy writer be totally banished from your remembrance Conceal my presumption from the too lovely lady Woodville lest her resentment should be added to the miseries of
Your unhappy friend JAMES THORNTON
O FANNY I am distressed beyond measure by these two letters Why did this weak young man place his affections upon me Why not bestow them where they were likely if not certain to meet with a return It is said that love is involuntarily but I believe it is only so in very young or enervated minds—If we will not struggle with our passions they will surely overcome us but they may certainly be weeded out before they have taken too deep root
I AM doubly distressed by this unlucky attachment—Poor Fanny Weston her passion for Sir James Thornton is but to visible—Would it not be cruel to attempt her cure by letting her into this secret I know not how to act—Why did my lord reveal his foolish letter or why did he not sigh in secret and conceal his illplaced love O these audacious men they dare do any thing
THERE is however a degree of modesty in his keeping the secret while he was here I am convinced if he had given the slightest hint of it I should have had detested him even as it is I feel myself offended and in a very aukward situation I shall certainly blush when I see my lord and yet why should I be humbled by another persons folly What husband but mine would have put such a letter into the hands of a wife Such a mark of confidence
ought to raise me in my own opinion as it is an undoubted proof that I stand high in his Pleasing reflection dwell upon my mind and banish every gloomy thought that has obtruded there
AS Lucys happiness is of infinite consequence to mine I hope soon to hear that she is lady Mount Wills
I CANNOT see why my dear Emily should be hurt or offended at Sir James Thorntons innocent passion had he dared to avow it to you it would have lost that title and should have been considered as an insult but let the poor youth sigh in peace for a few months and I will venture to promise that he will get the better of his folly—Dying for love is a disorder that comes not within our bills of mortality
NOT but I believe that a long and habitual fondness founded on reasonable hopes will when destroyed destroy life with it
O the soft commerce O the tender ties
Close twisted with the fibres of the heart
Which broken break it and drain off the soul
Of human joy and make it pain to live
BUT these are not the sport of feelings with which masters and misses who fancy themselves
in love are commonly affected for though youth is the season when we are most capable of receiving impressions it is also the season when they are most easily erased I think I might venture to pronounce that there are not five hundred couples in the cities of London and Westminster who are married to their first love and yet I firmly believe there are at least ten times that number of happy pairs if so what becomes of the first passion
TO be sure we now and then met with a foolish obstinate heart that cherishes its own misery and preserves the image of some worthless object to the last moment of its existence Among this simple class I fear I shall be necessitated to rank my sister Lucy for though she does not pretend to have the smallest objection to lord Mount Willis yet can she not be prevailed upon to give a final yes
HIS behaviour on this occasion is truly noble for though I believe that never man was more in love he has made it a point both with Sir John and me not to press Lucy for her consent I fear Sir John will grow angry at last and perhaps hurry her into a denial which she will have reason to repent all the days of her life
HOWEVER she will now have some time to recollect herself as Sir John has this day received a summons to attend his aunt lady Aston who is dying and will probably leave Lucy a lage legacy—That poor idiot Sir James Miller has mortgaged the last foot of his estate but then he has got rid of his wife—She died of a fever at Paris twelve days ago Upon the whole I think fortune has been kinder to him than he deserved
I AM much pleased with lord Woodvilles behaviour in regard to the letter but indeed my
dear you treat these trifling matters much too seriously and lest I should myself grow grave upon the subject I shall bid you
I HAVE not been well these three or four days—Lady Lawson who is so good as to stay with me and all the sege femmes about me think that a certain event is nearer than I apprehended My lords foster sister who has been brought to bed about five weeks is now in the house and every thing is prepared for my accouchement
MY lords tenderness seems doubled on this occasion—He scarce ever leaves my apartment he reads to me with his eyes oftener fixed on my countenance than the book and seems to watch every change in my looks—What a wretch I have been Fanny to suspect this amiable man of want of love Would it not be sinning against him yet more highly to let him know my crime by asking his forgiveness for my unjust suspicions
NO I will blush in silence and humble myself before heaven and you who alone are conscious of my folly—Pardon thou great first author of my happiness and thou dear parent sister guardian of my youth excuse my weakness that had well nigh dashed the cup of
blessing from me or mingled it with bitterness for ever
I HEAR my dear lords tuneful voice inquiring for his Emily I come my love
Lord WOODVILLE to Lady STRAFFON
With the foregoing letter
JOY to my dear lady Straffon to Sir John to miss Straffon and to all who love my Emily I have the transport to inform you that she has made me the happy father of a lovely boy and herself as well as her situation can admit My sister Lawson lady Harriet and miss Weston join in congratulations and compliments to you with your affectionate
I HAVE been at home now above a week yet have purposely avoided writing to you as your last interdicted me from mentioning the only subject of which I am capable of thinking O Seymour it is in vain to disguise it my head and heart are filled with her alone Upon the exertion of any painful act of virtue we flatter ourselves that we have absolutely conquered its opposite vice or weakness our vanity triumps and like the French we frequently chant out Te Deum without having gained a victory
TOO much I feel that this has been my case I begin to fear that I shall not even be capable of disguising my unhappiness and of practising this dissimulation which in my singular situation should be deemed a virtue
I HAVE discovered that lady Woodville has lately wept much I once surprized her alone in a flood of tears I could not bear them they reproached me Seymour but it was with silent anguish I pressed to know the cause of her distress had she revailed it and but once upbraided me though in the gentlest terms I fear I should have thrown away the mask avowed my passion and quitted her for ever
BUT her soft nature knew not how to chide and seemed alarmed for fear she had offended Her suffering gentleness unmanned me quite or rather on the instant it restored all that is worthy of the name of man my reason and my virtue and I dare hope that from that time
she has been well deceived and that I only am the victim of my own weakness
I SHALL address this letter to London I think it is more likely that it should meet you there at present than at the hot wells I intreat you will wait upon the marchioness and tell her Seymour what my heart endures let me at least have some merit from the sacrifice I have made and not be deemed ungrateful or insensible by her
IF you hear any thing of Ransford let me know—His father is outrageous at his conduct and even I think he is to blame
I AM sincerely sorry for your relapsing into a state of weakness which must be always a state of misery I confess I thought you in the surest train for happiness as the having conquered ourselves is the only subject I know for real exultation But as your conduct has been truly noble and that no person has suffered from what I now consider as your own misfortune no one can have a right to reproach you and it is for your own sake alone that I now intreat you to struggle with your too partial attachment to an unworthy woman
YOU desire me to acquaint her with the state of your heart can you suppose me so weak as to comply with your request were it within
my power But I must travel some miles to afford the fugitive conqueror the triumph you designed
SHE set out from London five days ago with your friend Ransford I hear they intend making the tour of Italy together Prosperous gales and calm seas attend them
YOU see when a lady is bent upon travelling she can easily supply herself with a Cicisbeo and I fancy that Ransford will be a much more agreeable companion upon this party than your lordship could possibly have been—He carries not the stings of remorse about him the bane of joy or peace neglect of his father may sometimes possibly cloud his gaiety but one glance from the bright eyes of the marchioness will quickly dispel the gloom
WILL you forgive me for owning that I am transported at their union Would to heaven that you could receive joy from it also Had she fallen lower than she has done it might have mortified your pride but if you can divest yourself of selflove you must allow that Ransford is more calculated for a lover than you are I think he bows with a better grace sings charmingly dances superlatively well is more adroit in his person it above an inch taller and has ten times your vivacity
I BOTH hope and believe that they are married and as Ransford does not want penetration be may possibly have discovered your attachment to her he will therefore probably prevent her returning to England for some years Let her but keep out of your way and I care not what becomes of her
DO my dear Woodville let me congratulate your escape from that Circe and rejoice with you in the amiable character of her whom
Providence has designed to bless your future days
I HAVE business that will detain me in London for this month to come the moment that is finished I will fly to Woodfort and hope to find you and every one there as happy as they ought to be to wish for more is in vain
HOW could my cruel friend attempt to jest with misery like mine It is impossible—It must not cannot be the marchioness gone off with Ransford by heaven it is false though thou my dearest truest friend aver it You thought to cure my passion by this legend but you have blown the sleeping embers to a flame and honest indignation for the injury she sustains adds fuel to the fire
RANSFORD why Ransford knew her not six weeks ago—Their first meeting was at York—He must have seen her passion—She could not disguise it nay I know she would not—She is above disguise
WHY Seymour should you treat me like a child and strive to impose impossibilities upon me how can a heart that has felt what yours has done sport with a lovers anguish I am impatient till I send off this that by the messenger you may restore her peace and clear my honour O you have set my bosom all on fire be quick and quench the blaze lest it consume
the innocent cause of all my wretchedness along with your distracted friend
PS The servant who carries this must neither sleep nor eat till he brings back your answer I shall do neither till I receive it For pity sake my friend trifle no farther but at once relieve and excuse the distraction you have caused
WELL mayest thou call thyself distracted Woodville and I as such can pity and forgive thee—Yet must I not become infected by thy folly and treat thee like a wayward child indeed
AS I would not have descended to a falsehood even to have cured you of your weakness for I cannot call it passion so neither shall I sooth you now by contradicting the truth that I have already asserted and however impossible it may appear to you that the marchioness should so quickly enter into any engagements with Ransford it is most certain that they left London in the same postchaise on Monday sennight and that she declared her intention of visiting Italy to my sister Sandford who was extremely scandalized at her behaviour with regard to Mr Ransford during the short time she staid in town since they returned from York
BE assured that I am sincerely affected by the miserable condition of your mind—I cannot
help considering you as in a state of fascination for if your reason could operate at all you could not possibly be astonished that a woman who had jilted you four years ago and preferred age and disease to you when she professed to love you and when it was in your power to marry her should abandon you now that she cannot be your wife for a lively agreeable man who is probably as much enamoured of her though not quite so romantic as your lordship
AS you are not at present in a situation to receive any benefit from the admonitions of friendship I shall reserve my sentiments for a fitter occasion and not detain your servant longer than while I subscribe myself
YES Seymour I will own I have been mad I wake as from a dream yet why my kind my cruel friend have you recovered me from that delirium which like an opiate while it weakened soothed my enfeebled sense and left me scarce a wish to struggle with my malady Yes she is gone my friend repeats it and it must be true
MARRIED to Ransford Can I yet believe it
O may the furies light their nuptial torch
Dissembling cruel woman she saw the anguish of my breaking heart when honour triumphed over my selflove and prevented my accepting the sacrifice she offered to her destruction
PERHAPS that stung her pride perhaps she loves me still but could not bear to be rejected by me—Perhaps I have undone her peace as she has mine—O no a younger gayer newer lover absorbs all thoughts of me I am forgotten and I will forget
— not Isabella my life my soul my love
Do not detest me Seymour I would but cannot conquer this disease
THE moment I had sent off Williams with my last to you I ordered my horses and rode off thirty miles towards London not only to be so much nearer the return of my express but to prevent lady Woodville from observing my distraction
WHEN I had got about five miles from Woodfort I sent back my servant to let her know that I should spend three or four days in hunting with Sir William atkinson whom I just then met going up to London
I HAD settled my plan with Williams who returned even quicker than I thought is possible I have now spent three days at a wretched inn where were it in my choice I would remain for ever Here I can curse and I can weep—but the innocent lady Woodville may be rendered unhappy by my stay—She loves me as I loved the—Let me not name her
SIR James Thornton leaves us in a few days I must return to Woodfort—O write soon and once more say you pity and forgive
I WRITE to you merely because you desire it for I am well convinced that nothing which I or the greatest philosopher that ever existed could say to you would have any effect upon your mind in its present state and my own is at this instant so extremely agitated that I am scarce capable of writing at all
I HAVE this day received a letter from Captain Beaumont—The contents will amaze you About six weeks ago the acknowledged son of madame de Beaumont was taken ill of the small pox and as her daughter had never had it the general and she thought proper to send her to a friends house lest her beauty should be endangered by the infection
THIS young lady now about fifteen who had never been out of her mothers sight before happened in the family she was placed in to become acquainted with a young musqueteer handsome and accomplished but without rank or fortune They quickly became enamoured of each other and at the end of a fortnight eloped together and got safe into Holland They might possibly have been overtaken and prevented from marrying if the lady to whose care Maria Beaumont was entrusted had not dreaded the violence of madame de Beaumonts temper so much that she did not dare to inform her of the misfortune till it was past remedy
IN the mean time the young and by all accounts amiable heir of the family expired in
his fathers arms The violent agitation of madame de Beaumonts mind threw her into a raging fever—During her delirium she raved incessantly on the ingratitude and baseness of Maria and her own inhumanity to the unhappy Charlotte
THE general who now considered himself as childless gladly laid hold on the opportunity of endeavouring to recover those he had formerly not lost but thrown away—he therefore prevailed on madame de Beaumont to see Charlotte He went himself to the convent and having declared his hitherto concealed affinity to Charlotte he obtained leave from the abbess to let her visit her dying mother
BUT no tongue or pen can express the various emotions of surprize grief and joy which were occasioned by the sight of his lovely daughter when she cast herself at his feet to receive his benediction—Like poor old Lear he would have knelt to her and begged forgiveness
BUT when she presented herself on her knees by the bedside of madame de Beaumont the unhappy woman unable to sustain the sight of so much injured beauty fainted quite away but the moment she was recovered to her reason she called for Charlotte and never let her quit her sight or ceased to pour forth blessings on her and implore her pardon till she expired
BEFORE she died she intreated Charlotte to quit the convent and remain with her unhappy father while he lived She desired that a dispensation from her vows might be immediately solicited from the Pope and that captain Beaumont and lord Seymour might be sent for in order to obtain their forgiveness But only one of her wishes was accomplished—captain Beaumont
arrived about two hours before her death she saw and blessed him
HE writes me word that neither his father nor himself can prevail on Charlotte to think of returning into the world again but that she has consented to go into the country with them for a couple of months merely in hopes of roconciling the general to his youngest daughter He desires me to fly to Belville that I may at least see his sister before she is again secluded from the world for ever
O WOODVILLE I want but wings to obey him But hark my chariot wheels rattle and my impatient heart much more than beats responsive to the horses feet
my friend
I KNOW not whither to congratulate or condole with my dear Seymour on the very extraordinary events that have happened in the Beaumont family His feelings I know must arise from those of his beloved Charlotte and I am at present doubtful whether she will ever again recover in the same degree that peaceful resignation which we may suppose she had acquired and was in full possession of a few weeks ago
ALL the passions of that gentle nature must now be roused to tumult the sight of her dear Seymour must give her joy transporting joy which is as much an enemy to peace as the most
poignant misery And yet again must she be torn from all the social ties of human life again be buried in that quick sepulchre a convent
DO not my friend indulge a single thought of her returning back into the world—It cannot be Charlotte Beaumont will not be prevailed upon even by the man she loves to break her vows to heaven for though I believe her possessed of the most exalted virtue she cannot possibly be free from superstition as she is both a woman and a catholic
YOU will perhaps be surprized at my writing to you in this strain but I would wish you to guard your heart against its greatest foe against selfdelusion Seymour that sly slow underminer of our reason and our peace that lying whispered to my weak presumption I might behold the marchioness unmoved Fatal fatal error it has undone me Seymour But I will think I mean speak of her no more
I HAVE an anecdote to tell you which convinces me that Adams curse is intailed on all his offspring
— For either
He never shall find out fit mate but such
As some misfortune brings him or mistake
Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain
Through her perverseness but shall see her gained
By a far worse or if she loves withheld
By parents or his happiest choice too late
Shall meet already linked and wedlockbound
To a fell adversary his hate or shame
Which infinite calamity shall cause
To human life and houshold peace confound
THORNTON quitted Woodfort three days ago—The morning he went off he left a letter for me which contained an absolute declaration of the most ardent passion for lady Woodville You may perhaps think he was a little out in the choice of a confidant—by no means I assure you I inclosed his letter immediately to my wife and felt myself really concerned for his misfortune Emily is certainly capable of inspiring the most delicate passion Thornton was a second Cymon when he first saw her and I may with great truth say that with all the beauties of an Iphigene she is possessed of every amiable virtue that can inspire esteem and respect—I would give millons to change passions with him
I CAN scarce hope to hear from you while the charming delirium of your happiness lasts but when you return again to reason and misery I shall then be a proper companion for your affliction But in every situation of life I shall remain unalterably
AS my dear Emily may yet be considered as an invalid I think myself bound to write every day and every thing that can possibly contribute to her amusement without expecting or waiting for any acknowledgment of my letter
SIR John returned last night from paying his last duty to his aunt lady Aston and very well she has paid him for his attendance She has bequeathed to him the pleasant manor of Ashfield which is worth between eight and nine hundred pounds a year and made him her residuary legatee when he has paid her bequests of twelve thousand pounds to Lucy a thousand pounds apiece to my children and some few legacies to old servants
AS soon as Sir John had acquainted us with this agreeable news he asked Lucy if she was yet determined with regard to lord Mount Willis when to my great pleasure and surprize she answered Yes I think I shall be ready to give him my hand before this day sennight though I cannot positively fix the day as lawyers are dilatory folks
SIR John then began to rally her on what he imagined to be her attention to settlements c and told her that my lord and he would take care of all those matters without her assistance She answered with a very stedfast countenance and determined air You will pardon me brother for once and only once in my life I am resolved to act for myself—Now hear my resolution which I desire you will communicate to lord Mount Willis tomorrow morning
WHEN his lordship did me the honour to address me I had then but five thousand pounds a fortune much too small to be an object of consideration to him but neither he nor you knew at that time that I had but a use even in that small sum for life
SIR John attempted to interupt her by inquiring what she meant she begged that he would suffer her to proceed without interuption and went on—The severe treatment I met with at the
same time from Sir James Miller made me at that time resolve that I would never marry—We little know our hearts in many particulars of life but least of all in this
BUT the extreme kindness I met with at the same time from lady Straffon laid me under such indeliable obligations as no time nor circumstance can ever efface I then determined nay declared that I would bequeath my fortune to my niece Emily and no power on earth shall make me alter my resolution
FROM my aunts unmeritted goodness to me it is now in my power to fulfil my intentions before my death and to give a proof of that gratitude which I owe to my more than sister Again both Sir John and I would have broken in on her discourse but she beckoned for silence
WHEN this the first wish of my heart is accomplished I shall still have a much better fortune than lord Mount Willis first expected with me—But it must not be all his Sir James Miller has been in some degree conducive to that happiness which I expect and hope for from an union with his lordship Sir James is poor and wretched justly punished for his crimes but not rewarded for the benefits he has conferred on me—Some small provision must be made for him without his ever knowing from whom he receives it I formerly looked upon him with horror and aversion I now consider him as my benefactor and the saving him from the miseries of extreme poverty will relieve my mind from a sort of mental debt
SIR John could forbear no longer but clasping her in his arms said Providence had made him rich indeed when it had bestowed such measures on him as his wife and sister Both he and I
said every thing to dissuade her from her intended gift to Emily but in vain
SIR John seemed to hint as if he thought it would be better that her generous intentions towards Sir James Miller should be executed by lord Mount Willis rather than herself By no means brother replied Lucy were there a remain of tenderness for him in my heart the world should not bribe me to marry its sole lord Generosity should flow from principle not from passion and as I can truly boast that this action with regard to Sir James Miller arises from the first source nothing must change the current of it My conduct on this occasion is I think the highest compliment that I can pay to lord Mount Willis and I have not a doubt of his considering it in that high light
WE both acquiesced in her opinion and Sir John waited on lord Mount Willis this morning to inform him of Lucys intentions He says he never saw any person so transported as his lordship he said he had ever looked upon Lucy as the most amiable of women but that her generosity to Sir James Miller made him now look up to her as to a superior being and that if she gave thousands he ought to give ten thousands to the unhappy man who had been in any degree instrumental to his felicity
THIS will be a whimsical contest I think Emily but I do not fancy that Lucy will consent to my lords interfering with her designs At present she intends to lay out four thousand pounds in an annuity for Sir James which if he continues to live abroad may support him decently
I HAVE been this day to be speak a pair of diamond buckles and a very fine egrette which Sir John and I mean to present her with I know
lord Mount Williss family jewels are very rich but my dear Lucys virtues will out shine them all—Indeed she is an honour not only to her sex but to human nature
SHE joins with me in intreating yours and lord Woodvilles company at her wedding Surely my Emily will not refuse us both you can have no doubts but that your little boy will be taken every possible care of and even a little months absence from that dear face on which your dotage hangs will make an amazing change for the better in it—He will be as handsome again by the time of your return to Woodfort
LUCY writes this night to lady Harriet and Fanny Weston to attend her nuptials—All girls will fly to a wedding so that you will be left totally alone if you are so ill natured as to deny our request
WHO knows what a good example may do—The pensive lady Harriet may perhaps be prevailed upon to sigh no more for her perjured swain but may possibly be inclined to make some worthy man happy As to Fanny Weston I am persuaded that the festivity of a wedding will intirely conquer her hopeless passion for the wandering Thornton She is no Penelope believe me and I fancy Mr Wills my lords brother will be able to banish the errant knight quite out of her mind
I AM extremely charmed but not surprized at Lucys conduct—here is every thing to be expected from sensibility and delicacy joined but indeed I have scarce ever known them separated in a female heart Refined manners are the natural consequences of fine feelings which will even in an untutored mind form a species both of virtue and good breeding higher than any thing that is to be acquired either in courts or schools but when these two qualities receive every addition that education and example can bestow
When youth makes such bright objects still more bright
And fortune sets them in the strongest light
Tis all of Heaven that we below may view
And all but adoration is their due
THUS do I think of our dear Lucy yet I must say that she has been uncommonly fortunate in having such an opportunity of exerting the noble qualities of her heart and proving how much superior she is to the detestable meanness of malice or revenge Charming girl may she be as happy as she deserves
SHE as well as you has intreated me to partake happiness—Alas Fanny though grief is contagious we cannot always symp•…e with joy—strange perverseness of our natures that accepts the evil and rejects the good Do not
from this suspect me of malevolence or suppose that I do not truly rejoice in Lucys felicity But there is I know not why a kind of weight that hangs upon my mind which I find it impossible to remove Perhaps change of place may help to shake it off—Be that as it may I shall certainly comply with yours and Lucys request
MY lord has kindly promised to accompany me and our sweet little babe is to be left at lady Lawsons Indeed Fanny you scarce can think what a sacrifice I make to quit him for a day but he will be under the protection of the best of women
I FEAR there is a scene preparing that will trouble her repose That bad miss Fanning what a heart must hers be how void of gratitude and where that virtue is wanting there can subsist no other—Neither precept nor example can operate on base minds
IS it not strange that nature should vary so much in the human genius as to create a Lucy Straffon and a Mary Fanning so nearly of the same age too both descended from good families and both well educated The animal creation do not differ thus from their own species There are no furious sheep nor mild tigers—Nature is uniform in all her works but man—Hapless variety sad source of misery the tiger and the lamb are not less similar than the betrayer and betrayed—yet both wear the same form and only by experience is the difference found—Nay sometimes we have seen the fairest face conceal the vilest heart as lurks the serpent underneath the rose—This is a mortifying subject I will no more of it
FANNY Weston as you guessed is in high spirits at the idea of Lucys wedding—She
talks of nothing but dress equipage and jewels ever since it has been mentioned—but a new subject is of infinite use in the country and I do not know whether a great funeral had not entertained her quite as much—Nodding plumes and painted escutcheons will amuse the imagination when gilt coaches and gay liveries do not come in the way—
HAPPY trifler how I envy her—yet I am sure she loves Lucy and fancies that she is really enamoured of Sir James Thornton too—I am certain that lady Harriet would gladly be excused from going to London but I will not seem to see which way her inclinations tend
The silent heart which grief assails
Treads soft and lonesome oer the vales
Sees daisies open rivers run
And seeks as I have vainly done
Amusing thought but learns to know
That solitudes the nurse of woe
And a sort and tender nurse it is—but dissipation may perhaps be good for us all and lady Harriet shall try the recipe as well as
I THINK myself extremely obliged to my dear Emily for her compliance with her friends request—You cannot conceive what delightful effects the hopes of seeing you have produced in Hillstreet—Sir John talks of nothing else but the sparkler you know he used to call you so—Lucy is all gratitude for your kindness and my little Emily holds up her head most amazingly that her aunt may observe what a fine carriage she has and how much she is grown since she saw her—The servants are all transported with double joy for Lucys wedding and your arrival In short every one wears a smiling face and I shall not pardon it if there should appear the smallest trace of gloom on yours
I AM very sorry for what you hint at with regard to lady Lawson—but be assured that a woman should be thoroughly convinced not only of her husbands attachment but of his morals also before she intrudes a female inmate younger though perhaps not fairer than herself
THE caution should be equally attended to with regard to male intimates—I have seldom known an habitual friendship that did not kindle into what is called love where there have been youth beauty and unceasing opportunity to fan the flame
I THINK if I were in lady Lawsons case I should not feel much—for the heart of a man who is capable of seducing a young creature that is immediately under his protection can never be worth regretting I have always heard
that Sir William is a very debauched man and a truly delicate woman cannot preserve her affection for such a one long—Contempt must follow vice and where we once despise we soon must cease to love
NOR do I look upon Miss Fanning as an object of pity—bred up as she has been with so excellent a woman one should suppose her heart replete with every virtue—but she cannot possibly be possessed even of the common merits which we expect from a chambermaid when she can descend to prostitution without temptation
HAD she been led astray by an agreeable young man I could have pitied nay perhaps have loved and even esteemed her for I am not such an Amazon in ethics as to consider a breach of chastity as the highest crime that a woman can be guilty of though it is certainly the most unpardonable folly and I believe there are many women who have erred in that point who may have more real virtue aye and delicacy too than half the fainted dames who value themselves on the preservation of their chastity which in all probability has never been assailed She alone who has withstood the solicitations of a man she fondly loves may boast her virtue and I will venture to say that such an heroine will be more inclined to pity than despise the unhappy victims of their own weakness
I HAVE sported my opinion upon this subject very freely you must therefore allow me to explain myself more clearly I know your delicacy will be hurt if I do not and I may expect to be severely attacked by my dear little prude
FIRST then I confine my fair penitents to the first choice a second error of this sort is never to be pardoned—Passion is the only excuse that
can possibly be made for such a transgression and a woman who has made such a sacrifice to love alone may be perfectly satisfied that she can never be subject to that passion in the same degree again For there never is above one human creature that we can love better than ourselves
THE woman who receives two gallants is in my mind quite upon a footing with the most venal beauties whose capacious hearts scorn to be limited to any number All married ladies I absolutely exclude from my order of amiable unfortunates—they cannot even pretend to be deceived—whereas a simple girl however mean her condition may flatter herself that her lovers intentions are honourable Old legends tell of king Cophetua and the beggar maid and your Pamelas and your Mariannes encourage hope in young untutored minds which perhaps the artful destroyer takes the utmost pains to encrease
till they can trust and he betray no more
THIS is I confess a nice subject for a woman to treat upon but I promise you I will endeavour to make my girl distinguish between vice and weakness and I hope while she detests the one she will be always ready to pity and if in her power to protect the other—There is no character I so heartily abominate as that of the outrageously virtuous I have seen a lady render herself hateful to a large company by repeating perhaps a forged tale of some unhappy frail one with such a degree of rancour and malevolence as is totally inconsistent with the calm dignity of real virtue
HAVE you ever read a fable which is bound up with Mr Moores but was written by Mr Brooke called the Female Seducers I think it
the prettiest thing that ever was written upon this subject—To that I refer you for my sentiments at large
YOUR remark upon the diversity of natures amongst the human species is pretty and ingenious—but when we consider the amazing variety there is in the animal creation and how many of them are noxious we cannot wonder that there should be some difference in human kind Had we been all formed with equal virtues those very virtues would have been rendered useless—an insipid tameness would have prevented emulation and life would have become a perfect sinecure
ON the other hand were we all vicious disorder and confusion must take place and this world be quickly reduced to its primitive chaos Without temptation there could be no virtue and without virtue this world could not subsist—We should not be so much pleased with the gentleness of the lamb if there was no animal more fierce nor should we feel the sweetness of the woodlarks note so sensibly as we do if we had never heard the screech owls voice or the croaking of the raven It is by comparison alone that we are capable of estimating good and evil both in the moral and natural sense
I COULD illustrate my argument as fully amongst our own species as in the brute creation but I have drawn this letter to such an immoderate length that I must at least defer the remainder of my discourse parson like to another opportunity
EVERY thing is settled to Lucys mind and lord Mount Williss happy day is fixed for Saturday
fortnight I hope you will come to town next week till then
my ever dear Emily
I SHOULD have answered your letter by last post but was prevented by having company The two miss Witherss spent three days with us—I told you before they were charming women but agreeable as I first thought them I now think them ten times more so
THE eldest is extremely sensible and perfectly accomplished but of a grave turn the youngest has every merit of her sister with the most engaging vivacity imaginable She is soon to be married to an Irish nobleman—Happy man who is to be blessed with such a companion
SHE seems to feel some regret at the thoughts of quitting her friends and England but says she is sure that her lord will be so good to let her visit them sometimes and she would by no means wish to detach him from his native country or prevent his spending that fortune in it which he derives from it
MISS Withers is gone to Ireland with her sister I am almost sorry that I ever was acquainted with these sweet girls since I am to lose the pleasure of their society so soon They told me a piece of news which though it surprized did not displease me—Mr Ransford is married
to the marchioness of St Aumont and they are now in France together
IS it not odd that my lord never mentioned this particular as it is no secret in the country and he must certainly know it as he has been once or twice to see Sir Harry Ransford But I think you desired me never to pry into his motives for any thing and I obey
INDEED Fanny you appear to me to affect the stoic too much from what you say about lady Lawson but we can all bear the misfortunes of others with great fortitude
When they are lashd we kiss the rod
Resigning to the will of God
IN my mind lady Lawsons trial is a very fiery one—She is she must be doubly distressed As to the slight infidelities of husbands I think the wife must be contemptible who resents them but every woman that truly loves her husband wishes to preserve his heart and a consciousness of his attachment to another object must be productive of the most poignant anguish Happy happy sister that have never felt that Hydra of calamity
I GRANT that Sir William Lawson has ever been a debauched man but always had except in this instance so much regard to his lady to decency and humanity as to conceal his vices from her He therefore had not forfeited her esteem though she had lost his love—O loss beyond repair Then her affection for that wretch miss Fanning must add to her distress Not having been blessed with children she looked upon this worthless girl as her own daughter—and can she in a moment forget the tenderness
she has indulged so long and detest the wicked couple as she ought—impossible
I AM really angry at your philosophic insensibility upon this occasion—for my part I can scarce behave with common civility either to Sir William or miss Fanning But lady Lawson who is a saint behaves with her usual kindness to them both nor has ever seemed to have discovered or hinted the least suspicion of what is already too visible to the whole country—Yet her lovely face is emaciated and pale and sometimes involuntarily sighs and tears escape her
I KNOW my lord is extremely distressed on this occasion he loves his sister tenderly but fears his interposing might possibly make Sir William lay aside all restraint and perhaps occasion a separation from his wife I am glad for this reason that we are leaving the country as I imagine miss Fannings situation will make her removal necessary before we return to Woodfort
YOU need not have apprehended my dissenting from your generous sentiments with regard to the unhappy victims of love—Nay I carry my humanity further and feel for those who without strong passion fall a sacrifice to the vile arts of their seducer and their own weakness That unsuspecting confidence which is too frequently the cause of womens ruin must certainly arise from a generous disposition and I should look upon a young innocent girl who was armed at all points like a Moor of Moorhall to be an unnatural character
AT the same time I detest a vicious woman more than any thing in the creation and for this reason my compassion does not extend to married ladies in general any more than yours—They have always a protector to fly to who
upon that occasion if upon no other will with open arms receive them—for though every man may not love his wife every man is certainly jealous of his honour and the false notions of the world are at present so constituted that the failure of a woman brings infamy upon her husband while in a much more pitiable case it rests solely upon the injured unfortunate
HOWEVER Fanny I agree with you this is too nice a subject for a female pen though one is insensibly led into reflections that are humiliating to an honest mind But when he who knew the frailty of our natures adjudged the convict criminal his sentence was not severe for well he knew it was impossible there could be found a wretch so lost to humanity as to throw a stone
LET not the young the gay the rich the fortunate whose situations in life have prevented their being liable to temptation like an herd of deer turn their armed brows against their wounded friend and give her to the hunters
MISS Withers and I were last night talking upon this subject and she repeated a little poem that lord Digby her sisters lover had shewn her It was written upon a particular occasion at a water drinking place in Ireland called Mallow some years ago—The unfortunate subject of it had been a much admired character in that place a few seasons before and dignified by the title of Sappho
THE lines are extremely pretty turn over and you will find them in the next page
VERSES WRITTEN AT THE Fountain at Mallow in the County of Cork in Ireland
Thou azure fount whose chrystal stream
Was once a nobler poets theme
While to inspire the tuneful strain
Sappho was called nor called in vain
Ah let the good forgive if here
I pay the tribute of a tear
In tender grief for Sapphos fate
The wonder of thy banks so late
So many virtues were thy share
Thou most accomplished ruind fair
One error sure may be forgiven
And pardon find from Earth and Heaven
That sovereign Power made us all
Suffered the sons of light to fall
And oft to mortify our pride
From virtue lets the wisest slide
Ye fair no more her faults proclaim
For your own sakes conceal her shame
Since if a nymph so wise could fail
We well may think Ye all are frail
A TRUCE for the present with this and every other subject but the pleasing thought of our meeting which I hope will be on Tuesday evening next
Till then adieu
E WOODVILE
PS WE have got a furnished house in St Jamessstreet and I am strongly tempted to bring my sweet little Harry with me—Cruel Fanny never to mention my little cherub but Ill be revenged and love him better for it
London Jan 18
A THOUSAND thanks to my dear lady Lawson for the pleasing account she has given me of herself and my dear little boy You will perhaps think me ill natured for rejoicing that you have no other companion at present but I am not so selfish as you imagine upon this occasion for I well know that the most agreeable company in the world could not abate your affectionate attention to him
BUT there are certain situations in life when our dearest friends become irksome to us from an apprehension that they may possibly discover what we wish to hide—There needs no other illustration of my opinion than a fair confession that I have sometimes seen you under these very circumstances with your brother and myself—But I hope and believe you will never again experience them I may now speak freely upon a subject which though your virtue and goodness concealed Sir William has thought proper to mention to my lord with every eulogium on your conduct which noble as has been it could deserve
MISS Fanning set out for Yorkshire this morning truly sensible of your goodness and
her own unworthiness Sir William says he is certain that it is not in your nature to detest her as much as she does herself He told my lord that this affair was by no means so unfortunate an event with regard to you two as it might at first have appeared to be as your behaviour had not only made him esteem and admire but love you also a thousand degrees more than he ever had done before
HE declared that he felt the impatience of a lover to throw himself at your feet and said he never should forgive himself for having rendered you unhappy by his infamous conduct Joy joy to my dear sister will you forgive my saying that I envy your situation
I WOULD give you an account of lady Mount Williss wedding dress equipage c c did I not know that your full heart can have no room to entertain such trifling ideas But I am certain it will give you pleasure to hear that lord Mount Willis is as amiable and accomplished as his charming bride and that I think they have the fairest prospect of a long uninterrupted course of happiness
AS the house of lords are now sitting your brother purposes staying in town till March but I may whisper to you what I would not have him hear that I cannot help regretting so long an absence from Woodfort from my child and from yourself
LADY Harriet my sister Straffon and Fanny Weston present their more than compliments and my lord joins in love and sincere congratulations with your
IS it possible that my dear Seymour can be so totally absorbed in his own felicity as to make him entirely forget his absent his unhappy friend I have been above two months in London without hearing from you Miss Straffons marriage with lord Mount Willis brought lady Woodville and me to town
I CONFESS I flattered myself that a change of objects and a scene of dissipation would have assisted me in conquering the gloomy disease that hangs upon my mind Far from it I think it has rather increased my malady by laying me under greater restraints than I experienced at Woodfort as all humours both of the mind and body acquire additional force if they are denied a vent
AS my ill fortune would have it we are lodged in the same house the marchioness lived in and to add to my distress there is a picture of hers which was not finished when she went away that is hung up in my dressing room As lady Woodville was coming to speak to me yesterday morning she overheard me in earnest discourse with the fair shadow she immediately retired supposing there was some company with me
WHEN we met at dinner she smiling asked me who the lady was that came to visit me in the morning I could not for some time conceive the meaning of her question but when from the naiveté of her discourse I understood it I was all confusion and your sister lady Sandford who was at table with us gave me a look that
perfectly convinced me she was acquainted with my folly
THE inhuman marchioness must have revealed my weakness to her—Seymour could not betray his friend Yet may I not from hence deduce a kind of tacit compliment to myself by supposing she must have been vain of her conquest when she proclaimed it weak consolation like a drowning wretch I catch at rushes
WHY why can I not tear her fatal image from my breaking heart you have seen her Seymour It is a thousand years since I beheld her—Have age and ugliness yet overtaken her or is she lovely still Excuse my raving—such I know it will appear to you
I KNOW not whether I told you that lady Woodville had presented me with a son before we left the country and appears if possible still more amiable in the character of a mother than before she was one—I rejoice to think that her being a parent has added to her happiness as well as her merit Our virtue and our felicity are both increased by the diffusion of our affections—What a wretch am I then Seymour who feel all mine concentered in one object where they must rest for ever
This reflection on myself is too severe nay most unjust for I declare that I am sensible of the utmost tenderness for the lovely the unoffending lady Woodville and I would die rather than render her unhappy—At the same instant I adore the cruel insolent ungrateful marchioness What tortures must arise from such a state of contradiction
I AM truly impatient to know whether you have prevailed with your fair vestal to renounce her vows and enter once again into this world of cares Be assured I am sincerely interested in
every thing that relates to you and this the most momentous point of your life is of the utmost consequence
YES Woodville I confess it I have been absorbed entranced in the most delightful delusion that ever lulld the restless heart of man I have passed three months in paradise I thought not of the world nor of its cares—I even grudged the hours that nature claimed for rest they robbed me of my Charlottes tuneful voice though her loved form oft visited my slumbers—But the gay vision is now flown and I indeed awake as from a dream
YOU may suppose I reached Belleveue in as short a space of time as it was possible—My Charlotte was prepared to meet me At our first interview through all the agonizing joy I felt I perceived a steady calmness in her manner that spoke the tender the indulgent friend not the fond mistress the gravity of her dress added dignity to her deportment and awed even my tumultuous wishes into silence I looked up to her as to a superior being and felt myself grow little in her sight She took advantage of my first impressions and spoke to me in the following manner
YOU see before you sir the happiest of her sex now first permitted to indulge those fond sensations which nature plants in every human
heart filial and sisterly affection—I will confess myself still farther gratified by seeing you the only object of a passion which took its rise in youth and innocence but which has long since matured into the firmest friendship and rendered you—pardon me my father the first the constant object of my prayers
BUT let not the fond wishes of a father or your own desires tempt you to think that aught on earth can move me to exchange the state of tranquil happiness I now enjoy for any other less pure and more precarious My vows were heard in heaven they passed not forth from feigning or forced lips for in the very moment I pronounced the words my heart assented to the pious sounds nor would I then have changed my situation even to be lord Seymours wife
Nor do I now repent the choice I made though fully satisfied both of your worth and love Providence seemed to have planted insuperable bars between us at the hour when I fixed my purpose to renounce the world and my then torn heart found its sole peace in my humble acquiescence to his will
NOW mark me Henry this is the last time that I shall ever speak upon the subject and it is in order to save your heart the pain of fruitless solicitation that I explain my resolution Should his Holiness be prevailed upon by my fathers entreaties to grant me the indulgence he has requested thus far I will on my part comply with the generals desire—I will spend one two or three months with him in this house whenever he shall command me but my place of residence must be the convent—There I have sworn to live and there I mean to die
THERE was something so commanding and determined in Charlottes voice and manner even while she denounced a sentence so severe that neither her brother who was present nor I attempted once to interrupt her When she had finished I found my heart subdued and ready to sacrifice its very wish to whatever seemed most conducive to her happiness I was alas the fatal cause of the vows she had made how then should I dare to solicit the breach of them
TRUTH Woodville flashes conviction even upon our passions as swift as light obtrudes upon the eyes I instantly felt the delicate impossibility of her being happy in the world and as quickly resolved never to importune her to be wretched It was not however without the sincerest regret that I beheld my most sanguine hopes of happiness vanish once more into air
SHE received my acquiescence with her determination as the highest mark of my affection and told me that she now considered me in a light where the tenderest regard for my welfare was compatible with her duty and that henceforward she could know no difference in her affection for captain Beaumont and lord Seymour
FROM that time Woodville our days have been spent in the most delightful intercourse and have stolen away almost unperceived by me Charlottes voice which was ever charming is now so highly improved that no melody on earth can equal it The good old general who absolutely adores her is frequently melted into tears while she sings and upon all occasions gazes on her with a look of repentant sorrow and delight as if conscious of the injury he has done to the world by robbing it of such an ornament
while her charming countenance is lighted up with the animated looks of filial love
SHE has prevailed on the general to be reconciled to his youngest daughter and her husband He has obtained the young mans release and is to purchase him a commission immediately As soon as that can be effected they will come here and Charlotte will again retire into the convent how do I dread the fatal hour of separation and blush to think that even Charlottes mind should be so far superior to my own
WITHIN these few days she has frequently mentioned her going to Paris with a look and manner almost expressive of impatience yet chastened by the pain she sees it gives her father brother and the unhappy Seymour Must she agaid be torn from my fond eyes Have I not sacrificed my wishes to her will and will she rob me of the last sole delight of sometimes gazing on her
HER brother tried to prevail on her to let me visit her at the convent but she peremptorily refused nor will she even consent to see him except on particular business Her father is the only person she will admit within those walls—This is a selfimposed restraint for the abbess is perfectly inclined to grant her every indulgence she can ask
I KNOW nothing of the marchioness Ransford nor any other person at Paris I shall certainly accompany Charlotte thither and when there shall acquaint you with every thing I hear about them I am truly concerned that your insatuation for that worthless woman should still continue—O Woodville had you lost such a treasure as I have and by your own fault too what would your situation have been I
will think of my miseries no more—but endeavour to enjoy the small portion of happiness that yet remains for me
I CONGRATULATE you on being a father—may that tender tie awaken every pleasimg sensation in your mind and restore your heart to the amiable lady Woodville who only can deserve it
Direct your next to the hotel de — at Paris and till I arrive there
ONCE more returned to Woodforts peaceful shades escaped from crouds and noise to gentle converse and the sweet music of my vocal woods yet can I not enjoy the pleasing scene I have so much longed for—the cause of my coming hither embitters the satisfaction I hoped to find in being here My Emily is in a bad state of health occasioned as her physicians think by the foggy air and hurry of London
BUT O Seymour to you I will confess the secret woundings of my troubled soul I fear that sorrow preys upon her tender heart for from the time of our being at York I have frequently imagined her mind was distressed but whenever she seemed to perceive that idea rising in my thought she has instantly banished it by assuming an air of chearfulness and vivacity and the transition was made with such amazing ease
that I thought it impossible she should be insincere and that the gloomy medium of my own reflections and not hers had tinctured her appearance with an air of sorrow Can it be possible Seymour that a creature so young and innocent as lady Woodville can be capable of disguising her sentiments and hiding her grief in smiles
I BEGIN to fear that women are our superiors in every thing If she has perceived my passion for the marchioness and concealed the anguish which such a discovery must occasion to a heart like hers for well I know she fondly loves me the story of the Spartan boy would no longer be repeated but lady Woodville be henceforth considered as the first example of human fortitude—In what a light then must her lord appear I cannot bear the thought
WHEN the physicians first attended her they advised her setting out immediately for the south of France but she refused to go with a more determined air and manner than I had ever seen her assume before I imagined her dislike arose from the thought of being separated from her son and immediately assured her that he should go with us She thanked me for my condescension but said it had only removed one of her objections and that not the strongest
THEN with a tear just starting from her eye she intreated that I would not press her farther I kissed away the pearly fugitive as it stole down her cheeks which was instantly lighted up by the soft glow of joy and modesty—She told me then she wished to return to Woodfort and if I pleased she would go to Bristol when the season came on
I ACQUIESCED in every thing she desired and would at that instant as I would at this
have laid down my life to procure her health and happiness We set out immediately for this place—For the first three or four days I thought her better since that I too plainly perceive that she declines
IF she should die Seymour I shall consider myself as her murderer Surely you would then allow me the painful preeminence of wretchedness and acknowledge your situation when compared to mine to be like beds of roses to the rack O no it must not be—she shall not die
I NEVER was so impatient for any aera as for the month of June—I have great hopes from the Hotwells my Emilys youth and naturally good constitution
I HAD not the least expectation that your Charlotte would have been prevailed on to quit the convent indeed I scarcely hoped that she would have condescended as far as she has done by consenting to spend a portion of every year at Belleveue Happy Seymour to have such a subject for expectation before you—It is surely one of the highest degrees of human felicity to look forward with hope
YOU will pardon me if I think there is some faint trait of the coquette in her refusing to see you at the convent She certainly wishes to keep your flame alive and as she does not mean to feed it with any thing more substantial than her conversation she wisely thinks that that like all oth•r enjoyments might possibly pall upon the taste if too often repeated
SHE has therefore enjoined you a long fast in order to heighten your relish for the
feast of reason
You I dare say as a still passionate lover may probably think this little ruse damour unnecessary but I am firmly persuaded that
abstinence will enhance the value of our mental as well as corporeal pleasures
A SERVANT has just informed me that lady Woodville is ready to ride out—I attend her on horseback every day
PS I hope this will be a letter of credit for me in your books as I have not once drawn upon your patience by mentioning the marchioness—Be generous then my dear Seymour and reward my selfdenying virtue
I HAVE made an exchange directly opposite to yours having just quitted the sweet scenes of Belleveue and my Charlottes delightful converse for the irksome crouds and noise of this great city
THE young musqueteer and his lady arrived at general Beaumonts about a fortnight ago Charlotte had fixed the time of her return to the convent for the tenth day after they came but her sister madame de Carignon being taken violently ill made her postpone her journey and made me hasten mine
FROM the time that Maria complained Charlotte never quitted her apartment—Belleveue became a desert to me and I fancied I should feel less regret at being separated from her by distance than accident—But the effects are the same
be the cause what it may for there is no place or situation that can afford me happiness in her absence
YOU treat Charlotte very severely nay unjustly by charging the highest proof of her delicate affection to the account of coquetry She is too sensible not to perceive that my passion for her renders me unhappy and she though vainly flatters herself that time and absence may effect a cure
THIS she in confidence declared to captain Beaumont when pressed by him to receive my visits—Alas she little knows I would not change my malady for health and yet I will conform to her prescription and drink the bitter draught without a murmur O Woodville when we truly love it is our highest transport to obey
I AM truly concerned for the account you give of lady Woodville but find a secret consolation for her sufferings in your sensibility as I am almost certain that your tenderness properly exerted towards her will restore both her health and happiness—I dare not trust myself with a doubt of your conduct upon this occasion
I THINK nothing can be plainer than her knowledge of your attachment to the marchioness—Her positive refusal of going to France marks it too strongly Woodville I fear—but I will not reproach you—your own generous heart must sting you too severely
I HAVE this moment received a letter from captain Beaumont—Madame de Garignons disorder appears to be the small pox and as she is pretty far advanced in her pregnancy they think her life in danger What has been gained by making her fly from that disease a few months ago
BUT I have not time now to moralize I shall send off a physician immediately and shall follow him myself in a few hours my Charlotte must want consolation and is at the same time, the only person capable of administering it to her unhappy father
PS I should give you credit for not mentioning the marchioness in your letter If I had not heard that ladies and lovers generally postponed their most material business to their postscripts Be that as it may I can only tell you the marchioness and her Caro Sposo are in this town but where I know not Captain Barnard and lady Ransford are also here
LADY Woodville is much better—Sir John and lady Straffon lord and lady Mount Willis have been here this fortnight—The polite chearfulness of their society has I believe been of infinite service to Emily but I still flatter myself that my attention and tenderness have contributed more to her recovery than any thing else
I HAVE now the real happiness to think that every apprehension of her mind is entirely removed I can therefore scarcely doubt but that health and peace will return together for I am
but too clearly convinced that the privation of the latter occasioned the loss of the former
THERE certainly never was a more amiable creature than lady Woodville—so unassuming in her manners so fearful of giving pain that she would if possible conceal her complaints even from her domestics who all adore her
IS it not amazing Seymour that perfectly sensible as I am of her uncommon merits there should be found a being upon earth who holds a higher place in my affection How falsely do they flatter our understanding who say that esteem is the basis of love if that were true I should be the happiest of men should think no more of the ungrateful Isabella should no longer feel the reproaches of a wayward heart which would then be entirely devoted to the charming Emily
BUT though I may never be able entirely to eradicate this fatal disease from my mind I have great pleasure in perceiving that the constant exertion of my tenderness towards Emily is attended with the sincerest delight to myself as it fulfils a duty and flatters my humanity with the idea of conferring happiness upon an amiable and deserving object
THE practice of any virtue is not so difficult as we are apt to imagine—There requires nothing more than resolution to commence—Habit will soon make it easy if not pleasant to us—Yet still must I envy those who have no need to struggle and when I behold the ingenuous fondness of lord Mount Willis and Sir John Straffon to their wives I curse my fate and despise my own weakness for having reduced me to the contemptible necessity of seigning what they are happy enough to feel
WE are to return the visits of our present guests in our way to Bristol—Lord Mount Willis has a very fine seat in Somersetshire—He is a very agreeable accomplished man His wife before her marriage loved Sir James Miller—passionately loved him—and yet she has withdrawn her illplaced fondness and doats upon her lord Shall I be weaker weaker than a puny girl and shall the voice of reason always plead in vain—I dare not reply to these mortifying queries
I MOST sincerely pity the unhappy general de Beaumont his misfortunes have been multiplied on him at a time when he is least able to encounter them There is a spring in youth which makes us capable of resisting almost any pressure but when a body which has been nursed in the soft lap of prosperity becomes enfeebled by years the mind also partakes of its enervation and we have still less reason to expect a vigorous exertion of the mental powers than of muscular strength at threescore
THE wisdom therefore that is in general attributed to age arises more from a privation of passion than from experience or any other cause As the nerves grow rigid the heart is insensibly rendered callous The exquisite sensations both of pain and pleasure after a certain time of life are imperceptibly blunted by each returning day and we at last become solely indebted to memory for informing us that we were ever capable of feeling the extremes of joy or sorrow
THE only passion which nature seems to design should remain in its full force in our declining age is paternal affection and as the others subside I should imagine that gains strength—there is a mixture too of selflove in it which generally makes its existence equal with our own The
objects of this affection are gradually maturing under our fostering care each day they make some advances towards our idea of perfections a likeness to ourselves with anxious hopes we watch the tender buds look with delight upon the opening blossom and gaze enraptured on the blooming fruit—It is our own we planted and we reared it In this most tender point then the poor old general is now vounded his armour and his breast plate thrown aside the barbed arrow sinks into his heart
SHOULD madame de Carignon die which I hope she will not there are abundance of good christians who would immediately conclude her death to be a judgment on him for his inhuman treatment of Charlotte But I who confess myself a sinner have not a doubt of his having already atoned his passive guilt towards her by his contrition—You are the single person who appear to be injured by it—for I am fully satisfied that Charlotte is no longer unhappy
I HAVE philosophized and moralized upon this subject to the extent of my time and paper perhaps to prevent my entering again upon another on which I am neither philosopher nor moralist—I shall therefore fly from it by bidding you
MADAME de Carignon is recovered if it can be called a recovery for a fine young woman to survive her beauty—That is indeed absolutely destroyed but as her husbands fondness seems unabated by the loss her homeliness may possibly become an advantage rather than a misfortune—Eew very few women or men either have strength of mind sufficient to bear universal admiration and when that is derived from beauty alone there is scarce a young person who thinks it neccessary to attain any other qualification or accomplishment that does not tend to the embellishment of their charms
I HAVE observed through life that we seldom meet with an agreeable man or woman who have been remarkably handsome But perhaps this may be philosophically accounted for—As Providence acts by the simplest means and beauty is alone sufficient to procure the love and admiration of mankind great qualities would be unnecessary to the purpose and perhaps bar the original design for we should be more apt to fear than love a human being that we considered as absolutely perfect
I THEREFORE think with Milton that where there
is bestowed too much of ornament in outward shew elaborate the inwards less exact
which may be a kind of consolation to those whom nature has dealt her personal favours to with a scanty hand
IN the country where I am at present neither youth or beauty are of much value The grandmother and grand daughter are pretty much upon the same footing—What little difference there may be is generally in the dowagers favour as she may probably be possessed of more knowledge and experience and a better fortune—No woman is ever young or old at Paris for the same paint that fills up the furrows of the aged cheek hides the soft down upon the youthful one
YOU see that a word to the wise is enough and that I have followed your plan of philosophizing upon different subjects to avoid recurring to painful ones—I must however acquaint you that I am to attend Charlotte to Paris in three days She has insisted on my returning to England as soon as she enters the cloister and I have consented on her promising to meet me here next spring provided the general be then living
THE poor old man has insisted on captain Beaumonts quitting the army and taking possession of his fortune except a small annuity which he reserves for charitable uses He has behaved nobly to monsieur and madame de Carignon and presented twenty thousand crowns to the convent of St Anthony as a reward for their kindnesses to his beloved Charlotte You would pitty him sincerely if you were to behold his distress at the idea of parting with his favourite child but
What are alas his woes compared to mine
Paris
I HAVE once more bid adieu to my dear Charlotte—But painful as the hour of separation was the recollection of what I had formerly endured from her entrance into the convent with the fond hope of our remeeting in a few months have abated its anguish and some very extraordinary accidents which have happened within these few hours have taken up my whole attention and carried me as it were out of myself
THE count de Clerembaut for whom you know I have a sincere frindship came to see me yesterday morning—He told me he was just come from the teniscourt where there had been a very warm brouiderie between two English gentlemen One of their names he said was Ransford who quitted the field to his antagonist but with a look and manner that seemed to say he was determined to meet him elsewhere
I WAS alarmed at this account and immediately ordered my chariot and drove to the marchionesss Ransford was not at home—I came back to my hotel and wrote to him expatiated on the ill consequences of fighting a duel in Paris begged him to defer his resentments till his
opponent whom I understood to be an Englishman and he should meet in their own country but if he should be circumstanced as to be under a necessity of rejecting my advice I hoped he would at least accept of my service to attend him to the field or command me in whatever way he thought proper
IN about three hours I received the following answer
I am truly thankful for your kind attention to me but I am at present too far embarked to recede and even your admonition must therefore come too late Let the consequence be what it will I cannot think of heightening my distress by involving you in it But I have a much more material act of friendship to implore from you—The marchioness will stand in need of your protection—I need say no more—hasten to her the affair will be over before you receive this I have the satisfaction to think that captain Barnard deserves his fate if he should fall by my hand as he has this day added fresh insult to former injury
WILLIAM RANSFORD
I INSTANTLY ran or rather flew to the marchioness whom I found waiting dinner for Mr Ransford—She seemed surprized at my entrance as she had heard that I had been there in the morning—The anxiety of my countenance became contagious and she enquired with the greatest earnestness if I knew any thing about Mr Ransford before I could reframe a reply the lieutenant de Police was on the stairs and I
rushed out of the room to prevent his coming into it He passed me by and entered—She did not appear to be alarmed
IT seems there is a lawsuit between her and her late husbands heir for part of her jointure and she I suppose concluded that he came to execute some order of court relative to that affair But long before he could fully explain the real motives of his coming she ceased to hear and had sunk motionless upon the sofa where she sat
THE lieutenant and his myrmidons took possession of every thing au nom du roi and assured us that diligent search would be made for the murderer I intreated him to leave the unhappy ladys apartment to herself and that I would be answerable for every thing in it He retired with infinite politeness which is the best substitute to humanity and in this country which abounds with shew and delusion is frequently mistaken for it
AS the marchioness is five months gone with child it was thought proper to have her blooded—Every possible care has been and shall be taken of her She is distressingly grateful for my small attentions towards her But a mind subdued by affliction is apt to overrate every little mark of kindness
THIS unhappy affair will detain me here for some time longer—I will not quit the post of guardian to the afflicted fair till I resign her into Ransfords hands You shall daily hear from me
YESTERDAY passed away in forming melancholy conjectures on the recent cause of quarrel between captain Barnard and Mr Ransford in intermediate ideas whither he would bend his course and in listening to various reports which were variously repeated by the friends acquaintance and servants of the unhappy combatants
WE had however the satisfaction to discover that Ransford had made some provision for his escape as he had converted above three hundred pounds into post bills the morning of the duel and had ordered a Swiss servant who has lived with him for five years and is remarkably attached to him to attend at a particular place with a couple of the fleetest horses he could hire or purchase From hence I conclude he will travel to Switzerland and take up his abode at Berne till he can return with honour and safety into England
YOU will perhaps say why at that particular place more than any other I grant the idea is formed upon a vague conjecture but Andre was born at Berne and the Swiss are of all nations the Scotch not excepted the most smitten with the love of their country Ransfords mind must be unhinged by this sad accident torn from its props and ready to recline itself on the first friendly stay that will support it The honest Swiss looks back with transport on those barren hills where first his mind found joy his body strength and leads his master there to
share the gifts which he received from nature and the soil I say he will not stop till he arrives at Berne
THE marchioness does not agree with my opinion she thinks Brussels Holland Italy nay England more agreeable That is she could like to six her residence in any of those places rather than at Berne—They are all equal to me except England where I am pretty sure he will not go
THERE were too sealed letters found in captain Barnards pocket the one addressed to lady Ransford the other to the man who killed him I will wait upon her ladyship to morrow to obtain the latter it must certainly throw some extraordinary light upon the affair
I HAD written so far when I received a summons from the marchioness to attend instantly A thousand apprehensions crouded on my mind I feared Ransford might not have escaped and I knew the vindictive spirit of his step mother too well to hope that she would not prosecute I found the marchioness in a state little short of madness—her expressions were such as made me rather fear than feel—her eyes darted fire and she traversed the circumference of her dressing room with the air and pace of distraction she seemed to be unsexed
WHERE is he madam said I Let me fly to him and try what gold can do to purchase his enlargemant This must be our only resource let them take it all said she but let me go—a lettre de cachet no monarch nor no minister dare sign it—I will fly to Versailles—it is already granted and you see me a prisoner at this moment—dare you rescue me
AMAZEMENT took away the power of speech I did not understand her it was impossible I
should—At that instant a person of a very gentleman like and engaging appearance entered the chamber—He seemed to be astonished at her beauty and perturbation and gazed for an instant first at her and then at me—at last seeming to recollect himself he addressed me in thd following words
I AM sorry your indiscretion has permitted our meeting Sir—It is true I have received no particular information against you you are therefore at liberty to depart which I beg you will do instantly as you cannot be safe in this house a single moment
I IMMEDIATELY perceived he had mistaken me for Mr Ransford and readily accepting all the good will he had shewn to my friends unhappy situation returned him thanks for his intended humanity and assured him of my gratitude for a favour which I did not stand in need of He blushed at his mistake and said that he had been twelve years in office and had never exceeded his commission but in that way Strange that a man should blush that had been twelve years in such an office
HE then explained his business—He had a lettre de cachet against madame which the marquiss de St Aumont her husbands nephew had obtained to prevent her quitting the kingdom till the suit between them should be determined
HER rage is not to be described she accused the laws of injustice and its officers of insolence and cruelty Asked to what prison a peeress should be led and whether she was to be handcuffed like a malefactor to all this intemperate language the officer replied with great calmness that her ladyship might put an end to her distress by giving security to the court for her stay in Paris She told him she would not stay for all
the courts in Europe He then said something in a low voice about her being confined
SHE had sent for her lawyer who arrived critically and prevailed on her at last to pass her word jointly with us that she would not quit Paris without leave of the court which he said he would apply for the next day
THE agitation of her spirits now subsiding she fell into violent passions of tears bewailed her fate and said she was the most wretched of human beings I fear she has more reason to think so than she is yet acquainted with For after she withdrew to her chamber her lawyer at my request explained the nature of the process against her and assured me that the late marquiss de St Aumont had no power over those lands which he settled on her for a jointure that he was therefore very glad to find she was married to an English gentleman of fortune as he had great reason to believe the cause would go against her—That he feared she was extremely in debt and that all her personalities were already forfeited to the crown as being the supposed property of Mr Ransford What a scene of distress Woodville and what will become of this unhappy pair
BEFORE I left the house the marchioness sent for her lawyer into her chamber—I took that opportunity of retiring to write to you and shall now close this melancholy narrative with wishing you good night
BOTH my mind and my body are so extremely harrassed that I am scarce able to give you
an account of the distresses in which I am involved
JUST as I had sealed my last letter to you I received a billet from captain Beaumont to inform me that the general and he were that moment arrived in Paris and that their coming was occasioned by a very alarming account they had received of my everdear Charlottes being extremely indisposed
I FLEW directly to the generals house and found the poor old man sinking under the double weight of years and sorrow He shewed me the abbesss letter to him which said
that from the time of Charlottes return into the convent a fever had preyed upon her spirits that she had concealed her illness for several days and even made light of it when it was too visible that she was now reduced to such a state of weakness that the physicians had declared medicine could be of no use to her and that an immediate change of air was the only chance she had for life
NO words can express what I felt on reading this sad letter yet will I candidly confess that her fathers anguish seemed to surpass even mine He called himself her murderer and said if she should die he never could have hopes of mercy or salvation—Alas am I not guilty as himself My fatal rashness made her take those vows which her fond love for me in any other case would have rejected
THE general determined to remove Charlotte out of the convent the next day and convey her as far out of Paris as her strength would permit He intreated me to accompany them in their melancholy and slow progress to Belleveüe Judge of my distress at being obliged to refuse But my honour was passed to a wretch who has none—
the marchioness—Captain Beaumont promised to bring me a faithful account of his sisters situation in the morning and I retired home—not to rest
CAPTAIN Beaumont was punctual to his word he came to me before eight oclock and told me that his father and he had seen Charlotte and found her in a very weak state that she had consented to set out with them for Belleveüe but that he did not believe they should be able to carry her farther than three or four leagues that day and intreated me to go with them I readily consented and determined that I would return to Paris that night as soon as ever Charlotte should retire to bed
THE captain and I agreed to meet at the generals house at eleven oclock to follow our fair fugitive who was to set out with her father from the convent He told me that Charlotte had made a thousand tender inquiries about my health that she rejoiced at my being still in Paris and seemed delighted at the thought of seeing me that day I needed not these new proofs of her regard to increase my ardour for her my soul was on the wing to meet her yet still the claims of friendship were not unheard
I RESOLVED to go immediately to lady Ranfford for the letter that was addressed to her stepson and found in Barnards pocket Then to wait on the marchioness and make my excuse for absenting myself from her the remainder of that day but though she had left Paris it was fated that I should not quit it for some time
AS I was coming out of my apartment I was met by the lieutenant de police who arrested me as an accomplice with the marchioness in having
defrauded his majesty by conveying away her most valuable effects which were confiscated to his use and having fled herself though under an arret—Never was astonishment greater than mine
IN vain I pleaded ignorance of the fact or the innocence of my intentions or offered to give ample security for those effects which had been secreted by that mean that worthless woman The officer told me he was not quite such an idiot as the person who had taken my word before and that no argument I could urge would have the least weight with him
AS the last and most prevailing rhetoric I offered him my purse if he would go with me to general Beaumonts and take his bail for my appearance the next day but he withstood my gold and even refused to let me return into my apartment to write an apology for not attending my beloved Charlotte
THIS was the first time I had ever felt
the insolence of office
—I submitted to it though reluctantly and was immediately conveyed to the Chatelet—I sent off a servant to captain Beaumont to desire him to come to me but as soon as I was lodged in prison I was informed that no person would be admitted to see me as they considered me as a delinquent of state
I THEN demanded to be confronted with my accusers and brought before a judge They smiled at my ignorance and told me that as I was not in England I must submit to their laws which were not quite so expeditious as ours and that patience would be my best resource for the present
THOUGH my temper is naturally gentle and my passions have been long subdued by affliction
it was with difficulty I could command my rage—yet on whom should I vent it on wretches brazed by custom to the wild ravings of resentment or the soft plaints of sorrow
AS soon as I was capable of reasoning with myself I considered that a consciousness of my own integrity ought to support me under the disagreeable circumstances I was involved in by anothers fault and am certain it would have done so had I not been disappointed of the painful pleasure of seeing the lovely languid Charlotte I lamented the uneasiness which she must feel from hearing of my confinement unknowing of the cause and the apprehension of her thinking me guilty of some criminal action and her suffering from that thought almost distracted me I cursed the marchioness a thousand times—Yes Woodville from my heart I cursed her Bane of your happiness disturber now of mine
WHEN I grew a little calm I desired to see the keeper of the prison as I wanted to know whither I was at liberty to write to the English ambassador who I knew was then at Versailles and to the rest of my friends The governor du Chatelet was immediately announced and on his entering my eye was struck with the most graceful figuere and engaging countenance I had ever seen He seemed to be turned of fifty but had such a softness of features and complexion as is rarely to be met with but in extreme youth His appearance filled me with surprize I was amazed that such a man should be capable of such an office which I supposed could not only be suited to the most insensible or brutal natures
HIS conversation was as pleasing as his person he readily assented to my request and said he would take care that my letters should be delivered
He then gave orders that my own servants should be permitted to attend me and that any person whom I desired to see should be immediately admitted I thanked him for his humanity in removing every unnecessary restraint and assured him I should make no other use of his indulgence than that of endeavouing to procure my liberty by the most legal means
HE encreased my astonishment by replying to me in English that he could not have any doubts of lord Seymours honour and that he hoped I would do him and his family the favour to dine with them and allow them as much of my company as was convenient to me while I remained in the Chatelet
MY curiosity to know something more of his family made me accept his invitation though heaven knows how little inclined to mix with strangers or enter into any plan of dissipation I have written to the ambassader and to my dear Charlotte By removing her anxiety I have lessened my own
I AM not apprehensive that my confinement can last many hours I will therefore endeavour to keep up my spirits with the fond hopes of flying to my Charlotte the moment I am released In the mean time I attend the governors summons to dinner and for the present bid my dear Woodville
Hope travels thro nor quits us till we die
AND without that charming companion I think I should not now survive to tell my dear Woodville that I am just released from a confinement of fifteen tedious days But let me be methodical in my relation—No it is impossible my chariot waits to carry me to Bellevüe to my adored Charlotte Se is better I am happy and most sincerely Yours
Belleveüe
CHARLOTTE recovers daily my fears for her precious life are abated Your silence now alarms me—Why must I never be free from apprehensions for those I truly love But I will for the present indulge your impatience and restrain my own
ON the first day of my confinement I was shewn into the governors apartment which was elegantly furnished and received by him and his lady with the utmost politeness She was surrounded by five beautiful children the eldest a girl about sixteen I will confess it Woodville my eyes were insensibly rivetted to this young creatures lovely form and for the first
time of my life my heart received a delight from gazing on the charms of another woman besides Charlotte
I DID not long indulge the dangerous pleasure without calling the wanderer to account and soon perceived that the fair Marias chief attraction was owing to her remarkable likeness to my Charlotte This observation quieted my scruples and left me the innocent satisfaction of admiring her beauty with a brothers eye Yet still my curiosity was increased by the resemblance and as soon as I was left alone with the governor I took the liberty of asking him if he was related to general Beaumont
HE answered no but said his wife was sister to the late madame de Beaumont though much unlike her both in mind and person that he could well allow madame DAngueville inferior in respect of beauty but that her understanding and heart were fraught with every charm and virtue that could adorn a woman
I ASKED him had he never seen his niece Charlotte Beaumont he answered with an honest warmth yes Sir when it was too late to make her happy or reward your merit—would to heaven I had known her sooner I bowed and thanked him even for fruitless wishes and for a time forgot my being a prisoner from the delight I felt at being with one who knew and loved my Charlotte
WE became totally unreserved and the governor informed me that he was of the N— family descended from one of those infatuated men who had sacrificed their fortunes and renounced their country to serve a weak and worthless prince who had neither inclination or power to reward their attachment
HE told me that his father had died of a broken heart while he was but a child that his friends had with difficulty obtained him a commission in the Irish brigade where he had served above twenty years without arriving to the rank of captain and that he might have still remained in that situation but that general Beaumont by his interest had procured him the post he then enjoyed when he and his family had been reduced to the greatest distress
THAT he hoped he had acquitted himself in his office with humanity and compassion and by many circumstances which he related convinced me that none but a person of a noble and generous nature was fit to preside over the number of unfortunates that guilt or accident impels to that gloomy mansion Sad reflection that those who are fittest for the charge are most averse to accept and least thought of for the office
ABOUT seven oclock in the evening captain Beaumont inquired for me and was immediately admitted His uncle monsieur DAngueville had never seen him before—They were mutually eharmed with each other The captain told me that as soon as my servant acquainted him with my situation he wrote a line to the general to inform him of it and set out on the instant for Versailles that he had seen the English ambassador who promised to wait on monsieur le duc de N— the premier minister next morning and obtain my release as soon as possible
I THANKED my generous friend for his kind attention to my interests and passed the evening with tolerable chearfulness The next day about noon I received a visit from Mr S— secretary to our ambassador He told me that his excellency had been with the minister and
desired that I might be set at liberty immediately That the duc de N— had informed him it was impossible to comply with his request as there was a criminal process instituted against me for aiding and abetting the marchioness de St Aumont in open violation of the laws and the only favour that could be indulged me was the allowing me counsel and bringing the affair to a trial with the utmost expedition
I ENDEAVOURED to make a virtue of necessity and affected to appear contented with the very small favour that his excellency had obtained for me But not to make the repetition of my confinement as tedious to you as the time was to me the day of trial came and by the joint testimony of the marchionesss lawyer her servants and my own I was acquitted of being concerned in her escape but obliged to give bail for four thousand pounds which is the value set upon the jewels plate c which she either carried off or secreted
THUS have I been injured in my honour person and property by my humane attention to that most worthless of humankind But no matter and if the meanness of her conduct towards me sets her in the light in which I wish you to behold her I shall think myself overpaid for every injury I have sustained on her account
THE moment I recovered my liberty I waited on the ambassador who had come to Paris on purpose to know if he could be any way serviceable to me I made my acknowledgments to him and set out that evening with my dear and indefatigable friend captain Beaumont for the loved place where my hearts treasure lay I have already told you that I had the happiness of finding her much better and the joy which
she felt at seeing her brother and me has I flatter myself contributed to her recovery
THE marchionesss lawyer told me he had received a letter from her dated at Brussels wherein she exulted at her own cleverness in getting out of the power of the laws and gave some dark hints of her not being married to Ransford Heaven grant that this may be true The suit with her husbands nephew will go against her and for her contempt of the arret she will be outlawed and her whole fortune confiscated—so that if as I hope she is not Ransfords wife she may possibly be reduced to her original poverty and meet the contempt due to her vices from all mankind
THIS is the fifth letter I have written to you without receiving a line from you I have certainly reason to apprehend that some fatal accident has occasioned your silence for I can never doubt the sincerity of your attachment to yours
PITY me pray for me my dearest sister for heaven but mocks my prayers had they been heard lord Woodvilles life had never been in danger I am distracted Fanny I would that I were Though anguish such as mine strains every sense and racks my tortured brain it will not crack no I am still awake to all the mieseries a wretch can feel who doats and who despairs
ON Tuesday sen night fatal day my lord received a letter from lord Seymour while I was present I observed that he was strongly agitated while he read it even to a change of countenance and colour I thought there must be some extraordinary cause for his emotion which perhaps he wished to conceal from me I therefore rose softly from my seat and attempted to retire
O FANNY can I ever forget the look of sorrow which he wore when taking me by the hand he said you must not leave me Emily but share a painful office with your lord—You must endeavour to console poor lady Harriet for Barnards death Ransford has killed him and is fled from Paris
HE then turned quick away as if to hide his grief It could not be for Barnard that he wept and Ransford he as well as I believed he was safe—O there is another cause let me not think of it lest it divide my tears which should all flow for him and not for my worthless self
HE told me he would go directly to Sir Harry Ransford to acquaint him with his sons misfortune and as he could not do it abruptly said it was possible he might stay to dinner there and begged I would take the most immediate opportunity of informing lady Harriet of this unhappy affair His horses were immediately ordered and he rode off
I SENT for Fanny Weston to assist me in the painful task I had undertaken But why do I waste a moment in thinking of any object upon earth but one About two hours after my lord left Woodfort one of the servants who had attended him galloped into the court yard ordered the chariot to be got ready instantly and bid
my woman tell me that my lord had fallen from his horse and much hurt
I WAS sitting in lady Harriets dressing room when the sound of the chariot passing hastily under the window alarmed me—I rang to know the cause when a servant pale as death told me that my lord had met with a sad accident I cried where is he and rushed out of the room I was met by my woman on the stairs Lady Harriet Fanny Weston and she prevented my running into the highway they poured drops and water down my throat I knew not what they did or said to me
AN express was sent off for a surgeon who arrived in less than half an hour after my lord was brought home senseless They would not suffer me to see him till he had been bled and his wounds dressed—But gracious heaven when I beheld him
LET me try to banish the sad idea—Alas I fear it will never be effaced never my sister never unless I live to see his natural form restored to my fond wishes and my ardent prayers—Oh join with me my Fanny in earnest supplication for his precious life
THE humane the tenderhearted surgeon said every thing that could amuse but not dispel my fears That his wounds though dangerous in his poor judgment were not mortal but that he wished for better help than his own
AN express was dispatched for Middleton or Ranby
I CANNOT but I would not if I could describe the night I passed—my lord remained quite senseless enviable state yet now and then his languid eyes fixed on me About five in the morning he fell into a kind of a dose and remained in that situation till near seven when he
awoke in the most violent delirium—he raved incessantly—but not of me
IN this most melancholy state he has continued eleven days—
a burning fever and a broken heart
O Fanny it is too much but should he recover it I never shall
MR Ranby and the surgeon who first attended my dear lord have both assured me that the hurt which he received from his fall could not endanger his life But neither they nor the Physicians who visit him daily can pretend to say what turn his fever will take Strong opiates have been given and at length have taken effect he sleeps my Fanny while I who have never closed my eyes since the sad accident indulge them now in their once pleasing task of writing to my friend my more than sister grief weighs my eyelids down but not with the soft pressure of an healthful slumber
my dear Fanny
LET not my dearest Emily condemn her sincerely affectionate and afflicted Fanny for not having instantly replied in person to her most affecting letter
O my Emily my child my sister how does my heart bleed for you tears dim my sight and yet perhaps your eyes are dry the burning balls fixed on your dying lord would you could weep as I do
AS my spirits have been rather weak and languid
since my lying in even while I was at Woodfort lady Mount Willis whose attention and tenderness to me is without bounds prevailed upon Sir John and me to pass a few weeks with her at a house which my lord has hired near Windsor while his family seat is repairing The old topics of change of air and moderate exercise were exhausted both by Sir John and her before I would consent
AT length I most reluctantly complied I knew not then why I should feel reluctance but I now begin to think with you that our presages should be listened to—Would I had hearkened then to mine I should now be with my dearest Emily and by sharing her anguish and fatigue perhaps in some degree might lessen both—but we now must feel the sad addition to our present miseries of knowing that each other is unhappy
ABOUT two hours before the post brought your letter to Windsor lord Mount Willis and Sir John set out for his lordships in Oxfordshire and while Lucy and I were sitting at breakfast after they were gone we heard a violent scream—I knew the voice to be my little Emilys—I ran up stairs to her chamber without recollecting that she had been some time dressed and playing with the house keepers daughter a child of her own age in the garden
LADY Mount Willis followed the sound and found my poor little angel lying on the ground with her leg broken the only words she spoke were
Do not let my mama be frighted
and fainted quite away
IN this condition she was brought into the house I will not attempt to describe mine Your situation is by far more dreadful yet sure it was a scene of deep distress Suffice it now to say that the moment she is out of danger I
will fly to share or alleviate my dearest Emilys affliction The fond the tender claims of child and sister now divide my heart—it almost breaks that I must say
THIS is the one and twentieth day of my lords illness and on this day be it for ever blest by me the physicians have observed a change in his disorder attended with many favourable symptoms that gave hopes of life He lay for many days in a state of insensibility had ceased to rave and hardly moved his limbs
AT eleven oclock this morning he sighed extremely O Fanny those sad sighs too long have pierced my heart then seemed to wake as from a trance The first object he took notice of was me and with a languid voice he said my Emily have you sat up all night O go to bed my love Then closed his eyes and fell into a little slumber
I COULD not answer him tears came to my relief and drowned my utterance Yes Fanny I have wept most bitterly and my poor heart is much relieved Doctor Fenton insists on bleeding me immediately I know he thinks that I have caught the fever from my lord blessed contagion may it not Fanny lighten his disease would I not die to lessen or remove his heart felt pains but I much fear that even my death would not now heal his griefs—She is anothers and never can be his
—I fear I rave my thoughts are wild I do not wish that you should comprehend them
YOUR poor dear Emily I hope she will recover—A broken limb is dreadful but a broken heart worse They snatch away the pen Well well I will be blooded Aye and I will go to bed my limbs no longer can support my weight
Farewell
my Fanny
EW
My dear Lady STRAFFON
I KNOW not how to acquaint you with the additional misfortune that is fallen upon us all Our dear lady Woodville lies dangerously ill of a fever My heart almost breaks while I tell you that the physicians have but little hopes of her life During the first one and twenty days of her lords illness she never left his chamber nor could even be prevailed upon to rest herself except for a few minutes when quite exhausted on a couch
WHAT surprized lady Harriet and me most was that she never shed a tear till lord Woodville first recovered his reason and spoke to her The servants who attended in his chamber have told me that while he remained insensible she used frequently to lay her check upon the pillow and kiss his poor parched lips as if she wished to catch the fever from him O madam why were you not here to save her precious life
LADY Harriet and I have been so much used to look up to her with respect as well as love
and sure no human being ever deserved them more that we could not attempt to oppose her resolution farther than by fruitless intreaties though we knew it must be hurtful to herself Lady Lawson was unfortunately gone upon a visit into Lincolnshire two days before my lord Woodvilles accident she returned yesterday and is almost distracted at lady Woodvilles illness But what is hers or any other persons grief to what my lord endures no words can describe his sorrow and I am convinced if she should die he never will recover
HE insisted upon being taken out of bed this day and carried to her chamber Doctor Fenton finding him peremptory consented though reluctantly Good God what a pale and emaciated figure Lady Woodville at first did not know him but when he spoke to her she started up clasped her arms round his neck and cried out with unnatural strength My dearest lord this this is kind she shall not part us now yes we will go together indeed I will not stay for any thing on earth no not for little Harry
HER spirits became quite exhausted at these words and she sunk down in a flood of tears We thought lord Woodville would have expired on the instant He fainted and was carried back to his chamber in that situation This was the first time that lady Woodville had mentioned her child since my lords illness
THE Doctor thinks it a good symptom and would have the little cherubim brought into her sight—but who can answer for the consequence if he should catch the fever from her At this moment she sleeps and lady Lawson is determined to make the experiment as soon she awakes—God grant it may succeed
I HOPE my little cousin has got the better of her sad accident and that I shall not hear from but see you as soon as possible I send this by a special messenger and shall write every day till you come I am dear lady Straffon
O FANNY humbled in the dust by the Almightys chastening hand I strive in vain to bow my heart to his allwise decrees and bless the arrow that inflicts the wound
HOW have I vainly vaunted my own fortitude and thought it proof against the severest trials Perhaps it is to shew me my own weakness that my loved sister and my child are doomed to suffer—I fear there is impiety in that thought Gracious heaven look down on my distraction The first the tenderest object of my youthful fondness my Emily my sister given to my care by a much honoured and a dying parent—for her I felt a mothers tenderness a sisters love Why were the ties thus doubly twined around my sad heart if they must thus be broken My daughter too child of my wedded love dear to me for her fathers sake as for my own—Both both my Emilys at once Sure I may dare to say the infliction is severe
NOTHING can be more alarming than your account of my dear sisters situation I would fly to her this moment but that my poor little
girl is also in a fever—my heart is torn to pieces for the two dear sufferers nor does lord Woodville want his share of my compassion—I will still look up to the throne of mercy and hope for the recovery of these dear dear friends Write to me Fanny every hour if possible and O may your next bring comfort to
A RAY of consolation beams upon us lady Woodvilles fever is abated she raves no more The disorder seems now to have fallen upon her nerves and her extreme weakness is at present the principal source of our apprehensions for her When she awoke out of the slumber she was in during my last letter her recollection returned she knew lady Lawson and every person near her but seemed particularly anxious to remember what she had said to her lord and expressed great uneasiness at doctor Fentons having suffered him to run the hazard of leaving his chamber
LADY Lawson never quits her bedside and lady Harriet who seems to have forgotten all her own distresses hardly ever leaves my lord—I am a sort of courier between both and by slattering each in my accounts of the other hope
to forward both their recoveries My lord expresses the strongest impatience to see lady Woodville doctor Fenton will not consent to their meeting for some days nor even suffer my lords letters to be delivered to him I am called to receive a visitor—who can it be at this improper time
WHAT a flutter am I in You would never guess who this guest was—Sir James Thornton but so altered as I never saw any creature I began to fear he was married though what is it to me if he were He has been poring his eyes out at Geneva ever since he left us and looks as grave and as wise as an old profess•r of philosophy
DO not be angry with me for trifling a little my dear lady Straffon I confess I was very glad to see him and as lord and lady Woodville have had each of them a tolerable night I think I may be allowed this small indulgence I have a presentiment too that my cousin Emily is better—In short every thing seems to wear a more chearful aspect than it did yesterday
POOR Thornton was so much affected at his friends illness that the tears stood in his eyes and he offered up an ejaculation for their recovery with almost as much devotion as your ladyship could though he is just come from a place where they say religion is not much in fashion but he is the best natured creature breathing and I am sure he prayed from his heart
HE told me that a vexatious lawsuit had brought him to England and that he meant to have returned to Geneva without seeing lord Woodville or any of his friends but being informed of the situation of this family he had come from London on purpose to make the most minute enquiries
HE begged I would not let lord or lady Woodville know that he had been here said he would stay a couple of days at Sir William Lawsons in hopes of hearing they were out of danger then return to town to pursue his lawsuit and as soon as that was over he would go back to Geneva—but I shall use my best crowquill to try to persuade him to visit Woodfort once more before he crosses the sea again and if I succeed in that I may perhaps try a little farther
THIS is the last express that I shall send as I hope by next post to be able to give you a still more satisfactory account of our dear dear friends Lady Woodville is very anxious about her niece—I tell her I hope with truth that the sweet little Emily is much better I intreat you to confirm my assertion in your next and to believe me
Most affectionately yours F WESTON
THE manner more than the matter of your last letter has been a cordial to my heart You could not surely write in such a chearful strain if our dear lady Woodville was in danger and yet your account is by no means satisfactory except where you say that her reason is returned and that she had a good night—your thoughts were diverted to another object and your letter is confused Pray be more explicit in your next
I AM very happy to be able to confirm your assertion in favour of my child—She is I thank God much better though still in a dangerous state as the bone of her leg knits slowly and she suffers much but though I may not be able to learn fortitude from her example I have at least acquired humanity from seeing that a natural mildness of disposition can better enable us to support the accidental miseries of this life than all our boasted reason and philosophy
I AM ashamed of the intemperate lamentations I made use of in my last letter and I intreat you to burn it if you have not already done so
I SHALL continue to offer up my fervent prayers and wishes for the recovery of my dear sister and her lord and am dear Fanny
Sincerely yours F STRAFFON
UPON my word my dear lady Straffon if I had not very good news to send you and was not very good natured I do not think I should write to you—how you huff one for being glad to see an old acquaintance If I did not know that your ladyship is married I should have thought your last letter had been written by an old maid but I am so overjoyed at being able to tell you that lady Woodville is infinitely better that I cannot keep up my resentment against you any longer
YES I am sincerely glad too that the little Emily has verified my prediction and recovers
daily—Now do not expect me to be methodical for I will never be so no nor will I burn the letter you desire for I really do not think there is any thing in it that you need be ashamed of
OUR affections are not given us intirely for our amusement they were certainly designed to make us feel our mutual dependence upon each other and the total insufficiency of individuals to create their own happiness They are the links which form society and though by being stretched or broken they may give us pain I am certain that we could have no pleasure without them
I THINK I have got off of this subject very well considering that this is my first coup dessai in the moralizing strain—Now for particulars—Lady Woodville sat up two hours this day—She looks weak and languid but is I really think more beautiful than ever
MY lord wrote her a few lines which I had the honour of presenting to her she seemed transported with them but cruel as she is she did not let any body see them The doctor would not permit her answering them till tomorrow—If she sends her letter by me I shall be mightily tempted to peep—but I will not—for I should not like to be served so myself and I think that is the best way of determining all doubtful matters
I SAW Sir James Thornton again last night—You see I mention him last that you may not say he has diverted my thoughts from more interesting subjects He persists in not having his visits announced to lord or lady Woodville I have promised to keep his secret and write to him every post till they are quite recovered
I shall begin my correspondence this night therefore
my dear lady Straffon
ENCORE my dear lady Straffon do not you really think me very good natured but this is now the house of joy and we poor things who have no character of our own camelion like catch the hue of our next neighbour—No letter from you by last post—but no matter I have a little familiar who tells me that Emily is better—thank you good spirit for the pleasing news—and now let me tell you that lady Woodville is so much recovered that doctor Fenton is to leave us tomorrow
I THINK I shall be sorry when he goes he is a pure chatty man and I have some reason to imagine that he likes me vastly Whenever I happen to be sick I will certainly send for him
WELL matrimony is a fine thing to be sure and it is very hard that I who am so well inclined to enter into that holy state cannot find an help mate meet for me Though I have my doubts whether there be many such husbands as lord Woodville I declare he appears to be infinitely more in love with his wife than he ever was Such tender attention such unaffected fondness I never beheld—He is never out of her chamber but when he is obliged to leave her
to her repose which seems now to be perfectly uninterrupted
SIR James Thornton is a better correspondent than your ladyship—I received a letter from him in answer to mine with some very pretty compliments interspersed through it upon my easy manner of writing Travelling I find has improved him for I do not recollect that he ever said a civil thing to me before he went abroad Better late than never is a good proverb Poor lady Harriet her spirits are very low though she has behaved surprizingly well on Barnards death but I fear her calmness on that occasion was owing to the alarming situation of lord and lady Woodville and that her grief will return with their health I wish she would think of marrying a good husband would make her forget Barnard Dear good Thornton another letter from him and more flattery quelle douceur quel charme Adieu my dear lady Straffon I must indulge my vanity this very moment by shewing his epistle to lord and lady Woodville Yours ever
THANK you my good Fanny for your two lively letters—they have been of infinite use to my poor weak spirits and though I may not be able to compliment as agreeably as Sir James Thornton I will venture to say that I am as well pleased as he with the ease and chearfulness of your writing I hope my heart is
truly grateful to the Almighty for the recovery of my dear sister and her lord as well as for the restoration of my little Emily whom we now think past danger
YOU say very justly that
our affections were not given us for amusement
No Fanny they were meant to humble the proud heart to shew us our own weakness and fallibility by our frequently bestowing them on unworthy or improper objects and even when directed by nature and reason into their right course to all the tender charities of life they should remind us of our intire dependence on the great Author of our being by making us sensible that the most delightful attachments which can be formed by love or friendship serve but to enlarge our vulnerary part and encrease our capacity of feeling pain
YOU perhaps may think this moral too severe but it is not meant to restrain us from the indulgence of those fond sensations which are natural to every good heart but to raise our gratitude to the great Giver of all our blessings and to remind us that we hold them by grant from his bounty and not from any right or merit of our own
AS my Emily gains strength every day we purpose going into Essex in a short time and as soon as Sir John can settle some necessary affairs there we shall all set out for Bristol in hopes of meeting lord and lady Woodville there—What a joyful meeting will it be to me my eyes run over at the delightful idea
THOUGH lady Mount Willis took every precaution to conceal her generosity to Sir James Miller from himself the unhappy man has discovered that he is indebted to her for his subsistence and has written her a most affecting letter
acknowledging his own unworthiness and intreating her to withdraw her bounty as he declares he could better support the most abject poverty than the receiving of favours from one whom he had so highly injured and offended There is something in this sentiment that inclines me to forgive even his former baseness and to pity his present misery Sure there can be nothing so truly humiliating as receiving obligations from those we have wronged
I SINCERELY wish that your epistolary correspondence with Sir James Thornton may answer all your expectation—But remember Fanny that flattery costs men nothing and that women are apt to overrate it and frequently bestow their love and esteem in exchange for what has no aintrinsic worth I grant that in the general commerce of the world the person whose politeness and attention are most marked to us deservedly obtains a preference in our regard vanity is in some degree inherent to all human kind and the being rated above our fellows is a species of flattery which the most delicate creature in the world is never offended at But in a particular intercourse between man and woman we should take great care that our own selflove does not impose upon us and magnify the common forms or expressions of politeness into a particular address—Do not be angry at this hint Fanny as it is only meant to save your vanity for I hope your heart is not yet concerned from the mortification of a disappointment
Tell my dear lady Woodville that I most impatiently long for a line from her and that I mutually congratulate her lord and her on their recovery I am dear Fanny yours sincerely
WHERE Fanny shall I find words to express my gratitude to the Almighty for the blessings I have received from him the smallest of which is my own recovery from the grave Words are inadequate to what I feel but he can read my heart Life is a common blessing given to all and sure there was a time now long past when I would most willingly have yielded mine into his hands that gave it—but happiness my sister such bliss as mine is but the lot of few O how shall I deserve it teach me Fanny teach me every honest art to keep the treasure I have so lately found—lord Woodvilles heart
HOW little alas are we capable of judging for ourselves my lords late illness which I considered as the severest infliction of Providence has been the blessed means of my present and I hope future happiness his generous nature struck with the sufferings I endured by one rich gift has overpaid them all—but I must dare not enter into the charming detail of my felicity—my spirits will not bear it but you shall know it all For the present let it suffice to tell you I have not now a wish ungratified but that of being able to render myself worthy of the happiness I enjoy
MY lord lady Harriet who is a mirror of resignation and Fanny Weston all join with me in sincere congratulations to you and Sir John on Emilys recovery How truly thankful
ought I to be for the dear childs preservation for indeed I could not have been happy had you been otherwise
Inclosed in the foregoing
I HOPE your ladyship will believe me perfectly sincere when I tell you that I rejoice at lady Woodvilles being able to release me from the office of her secretary by answering for herself For though I am highly sensible of the great honour which your ladyship confers on such a madcap as me by condescending to write to me I must beg leave to observe que la rose a sa picque—for indeed your ladyships kind and friendly admonitions upon the subject of Sir James Thorntons politeness and my vanity are rather humiliating But in order to make your mind as well as my own easy upon this subject I will venture to assure you that I shall require stronger proofs of Sir James Thorntons regard than a little flimsy flattery before I suffer my self love to persuade me that the baronet is enamoured of your ladyships most humble servant
PS Pray my dear lady Straffon do not fancy I am in a huff for I never was in greater harmony of spirits than at present having this
moment received a letter from Sir James Thornton in answer to an invitation which lord and lady Woodville commissioned me to make and which he will accept in a few days It is lucky that flattery costs men nothing for the poor dear baronet would certainly be a bankrupt if he were to purchase all that he bestows upon
Your ever affectionate F W
LIKE the rich gales from the Arabian coast my Emilys last letter came fraught with health and joy—What an high cordial must it have been to a fond sisters heart who long has mourned without affecting to perceive those secret sorrows which she could not heal to hear that they at length have vanished
I KNOW not which of us is at present happiest but were the charming contest to be determined by the merit of the competitors the precious palm would be adjudged to you Long may my Emily enjoy the triumph she so well deserves
I WILL not cannot wait for a detail of your felicity I will behold and share it—It is possible to be circumstantial under the severest affliction but happiness is by much too volatile for narrative—like a fine and subtile essence it evaporates through the activity of its own spirit we cannot paint the expressive looks which are lighted up by a glad heart the eye alone can catch the brilliant beam which brightens by reflection—
Therefore expect to meet mine in less than four and twenty hours after you receive this Sir John and my girl will accompany me
I HAVE had a very pleasing letter from lady Somerville—Lodovico Laura and she arrived safe at Genoa her friends received them all with open heart and arms—The young people have been entirely taken up with feasts b•••… and masquerades To avoid giving offence by refusing to partake in these amusements lady Somerville has retired to the very house which she quitted upon her marriage which is twenty leagues from Genoa—She there continues to indulge that melancholy which time has been only able to soften not subdue—amiable relict
TELL Fanny Weston that the present harmony of my spirits prevents my answering her letter as I ought but she must not flatter herself that I do not mean to take any further notice of it for the moment I become acquainted with Sir James Thornton I will insist upon his devising a proper punishment for her pertness and he shall be at once the judge and the executioner
THE apprehensions which my dear Seymour expresses on account of my silence have been but too well founded—I have been upon the verge of
that undiscovered country from
whose bourn no traveller returns
I KNOW what true delight these words will give you they are sincere my friend—they flow from my full heart Blinded as I have been to her perfections you will surely pardon the transports of a man who waking from a dream of misery finds himself in Elysium—such is my present state what was my former one you and you only know too well
YOU are doubtless impatient to hear what has brought this happy change with pleasure will I dwell on every circumstance that must endear my Emily to my heart and render her still more amiable to my friends eyes
IT is now above two months since I received your first account of Ransfords duel and the marchionesss distress No words can paint the strong emotions of my mind—a thousand various schemes to succour her rushed instantly through my disturbed imagination My wife was present while I read your letter and saw the agitation of my mind Her delicacy prompted her to retire I prevented her and told her I know not how of Barnards death and begged her to inform lady Harriet of it in the tenderest manner—needless caution
I THEN told her I would go and acquaint Sir Harry Ransford with the affair and ordered my horses to be got ready immediately
I SET out directly on that purpose—but before I had rode a quarter of a mile a sudden impulse seized me a certain foreign and irresistible force that impelled me to fly to the instant relief of the marchioness
THE baseness and madness of such a resolve sprang forward to my view at the same moment but the passions triumphed as they always must do at the first onset over the feebler reason
I CONSIDERED that Ransford might probably call me to account for interfering in his affairs and felt a gloomy satisfaction in thinking that the loss of life might be deemed an atonement for the cruelty of my conduct towards Emily
I THEN traversed the road in order to return home through my park and got into my closet unperceived by my family
I THERE took out the marchionesss picture and hung it round my neck as a kind of talisman against that remorse which I must certainly feel for abandoning my wife I then sat down and wrote a letter to my Emily and though at that time under the influence of the strongest delirium I am pleased and proud to own that my tears flowed faster than my ink while I reflected on the pain which she must suffer when sheread those lines—I resolved to travel night and day and not put my letter in the postoffice till I came to Canterbury
AS I was stepping out of my library which you know looks into the parterre I saw my little boy at play close by the window with his maid—The sight of my son startled me—The order of nature seemed reversed—The child admonishing the parent I felt all this but felt myself at the same time like one in a dream labouring under an impression of the imagination without reason to correct or freewill to controul it I could not pass into the park without being seen by them—the private manner of my return would have alarmed the family I was ashamed to be detected by my
servant and spent above an hour which appeared a summers day to me in a state of the most restless impatience I have since thought that this little accident seemed as if kindly designed by Providence to give me time for reflection But alas the delay quickened the vehemence of my purpose to pursue my scheme
THE moment I was at liberty I flew back to the park bid my servants follow me and set off with all the speed my horse could make—But I had not got three miles from my demesne when by some fortunate accident my horse made a false step which he was incapable of recovering and threw me senseless to the ground
HOW long I continued there or what passed during an interval of one and twenty days has left no trace upon my memory at the end of that period I awaked as from unquiet rest—Gracious heaven how shall I ever be able to express my astonishment at beholding lady Woodville seated by my bedside the statue of despair pale wan and faded was her youthful cheek her eyes were raised to heaven as if in servent though in hopeless prayer O Seymour what a train of horrid images broke in at once upon my burning brain my unsettled reason fluttered on the wing and seemed as if it would depart again for ever
THE striking object that appeared before me impressed my senses with a kind of awe yet I had power to speak to her she could not answer—A flood of tears but they were tears of joy suppressed the power of speech She was carried out of the room by doctor Fentons orders and I then feigned a slumber in hopes that recollection would afford some clue to lead me through the labyrinth of my situation
THE first circumstance that presented itself to my memory was my having quitted Woodfort with a design of abandoning that amiable creature whom I now beheld reduced to the state I have already described by her tenderness for me—the next thing that occurred to me was my having had the marchionesss picture round my neck which I now searched for in vain—I instantly ordered every person to leave the room except Williams and demanded from him an account of my present situation and what was become of the picture which I had placed next my heart I could have no doubt of his faith or sincerity—he has lived with me ever since I was a child and loved me as if I had been his
HE fell upon his knees by my bedside and begged me not to hurry or exhaust my spirits which he was sure must be extremely weak as this was the first moment the fever had left me for one and twenty days during which time he told me lady Woodville had never quitted my apartment for a single hour nor closed her lovely eyes
THAT on the night I was brought home the surgeon had me stripped in order to know if I had received any wound or bruise in my body that he had taken off the picture and given it to my wife supposing it to be hers and at that time she took no notice of it but that he had often since seen her gaze upon it most intently and sigh as if her heart would break
HE said that Thomas had also brought her the papers which were found in my pockets and she gave them all to him to lock up but that Mrs Winter her woman who was present told her ladyship there was a letter sealed and directed for her which she took and left the room
THAT she returned in a few minutes as pale as death but never disclosed the contents though Mrs Winter took as much pains as she dared to find them out as she could not conceive what I could have to say to lady Woodville when I had but just left her
HE told me Seymour that Emily has knelt by my bedside for hours in speechless agony has kissed my feverish lips and bathed my burning hands with her most precious tears and yet she knew I had inhumanly determined to forsake her to leave such worth as hers a prey to pining grief and discontent For whom—You have too justly named her the most unworthy of her sex
YOU may suppose that during Williamss recital my reason tottered in its feeble seat but I had still enough left to rouse my slumbering virtue and to resolve that if I should recover my future life should be devoted to love to gratitude to Emily This bear me witness heaven I had determined before I knew or even thought it possible I ever should despise the marchioness
AS soon as I heard all that Williams had to say I begged to see my wife Doctor Fenton absolutely refused my request I acquiesced upon his telling me she had lain down to rest
THE next day I repeated my entreaties without success—On the third I became so impatient that Williams thought it most prudent to let me know the sad truth which was that lady Woodville lay dangerously ill of the fever she had caught from me
I WAS no longer sensible of my own weak state—The tumult of my passions gave me a momentary strength—I rushed out of bed
upon the instant never Seymour did I experience such another All lady Woodvilles merits which I had before but coldly admired appeared to me now in the warmest colours and rose even to perfection But when contrasted with my ingratitude towards her they overcame me—I sunk into my servants arms and shed a flood of tears
IN spite of all opposition I would be carried into my wifes apartment—I had resolved to implore her pity and forgiveness of my past follies and to assure her of my future conduct which I could no longer entertain a doubt of as the sincere and tender affection I then felt for her would I hoped ensure her happiness and that I should date mine from her recovery
THINK of my situation Seymour when I approached her bedside—she was delirious yet the dear angel knew me though she raved and in such terms that her words struck daggers to my heart—My strength forsook me I fainted and was carried back to my own chamber the unhappiest wretch that breathed upon the earth
IN pity to you I will draw a veil over the wild ravings of my tortured mind and make you happy by telling you that I am truly so by knowing that my dearest Emily is out of danger
THIS letter has been the work of two days tomorrow I am to see my wife—I count the moments Seymour and think them hours till then
I HAVE heard that persons who have been once mad never recover the perfect use of their reason or at least are liable to some returns of insanity This thought shocks me for if I could suppose it possible I should ever again sink into that shameful that now detested delirium which
so long possessed me I would not wish to live another hour—but it it impossible—My Emilys virtues have subdued my heart and time instead off lessening must increase their power
IT is high time that I should condole with you on the sufferings you have endured from your generous friendship towards the marchioness The meanness of her behaviour to you makes me rejoice in the hope of her not being Ransfords wife—Yet contemptible as her conduct has made her appear even in my once partial eyes she must not know distress I mean with regard to her circumstances and while Sir Harry Ransford lives it will not be in his sons power to support her in the rank which she has held for some years past—Let me therefore intreat you to inform me of the event of her lawsuit with the marquis of St Aumont
BE not alarmed at this request Seymour It is not passion but compassion that makes me wish to serve her for I here solemnly declare that if I were not certain of having intirely conquered the phrensy which had so long possessed my enfeebled reason I have still virtue enough left to restrain myself from ever mentioning her name But the real lustre of my Emilys virtues have triumphed over the false glare of Isabellas charms that fatal ignis fatuus which so long dazzled and misled my benighted senses
I SINCERELY rejoice in your fair vestals recovery—may she live to make you happy as your uncommon situation will admit
I AM truly concerned for Ransford and earnestly wish to know what course he has pursued—I think with you that he is now in Switzerland and suppose he has written to you before this time What is become of lady Ransford
But I forget that you were prevented from seeing her before you left Paris
THE wished for the charming interview is over but where Seymour shall I find words to express the delicacy of my Emilys conduct when I would have fallen at her feet and implored her to forgive my having made her miserable she caught me in her arms with that modest sensibility which accompanies her every action and said that all the misery she had ever suffered arose from considering herself as the fatal though innocent cause of my unhappiness
THAT she should ever be truly grateful for the pains I had taken to prevent her being wretched by endeavouring to conceal a passion which she was sure it was as impossible for me to conquer as it had been to disguise
THAT she had long known of my attachment to the marchioness and that her utmost wish for many months past was to be considered as my first friend that she should never make an improper use of my confidence but that her utmost tenderness should be exerted to sooth the sorrows
which she could not heal—A flood of tears opposed her farther utterance
I TOOK that opportunity of assuring her that it was in her power and hers alone to render me the happiest of men
SHE wiped away her tears and gazed on me with looks of joy and doubt Let not your kindness said she tempt you to deceive me I feel too well the impossibility of conquering a fond a real passion but I will strive my lord
I CAUGHT her trembling hand and pressed it to my lips O no I cried my Emily my love indulge your virtuous fondness and deeply as my heart appears to be indebted to you like a poor bankrupt it shall give its all though it can never pay you what it owes—She quickly exclaimed O I am overpaid in this blessed moment for years of misery your heart but can you give it is it yours my lord—No Emily unworthy as it is it is already yours and shall be ever so
TEARS and embraces closed this charming scene and now with truth my Seymour can I boast I never knew what heartfelt rapture was before that hour
THE conferring happiness on any creature is certainly the highest enjoyment of any human mind but the paying it to an amiable and deserving object must heighten the sentiment even to transport
SIR James Thornton has been obliged to return to England on account of a lawsuit He purposed keeping himself concealed but upon hearing of mine or rather my Emilys illness he posted down from London to Sir William Lawsons and remained there till she was pronounced out of danger Since that time he had frequent accounts of our recovery from Fanny
Weston with whom he corresponds in a very gallant stile
I KNOW she likes the young baronet and as I flatter myself he is cured of his hopeless passion for lady Woodville or at least am well assured that he will never presume to pursue it I have prevailed upon my wife to consent to his making us a visit but neither his being at Woodfort or any thing else shall prevent our going to Bristol in a few days for though my lovely invalid is surprizingly recovered from her late illness the shock which her constitution has received has rendered it almost as delicate as her charming mind I will watch over them both and hope to restore them to their natural state which is almost perfection
I HAVE shewn Emily all your letters and told her the story of my connection with the marchioness without concealing a single circumstance which passed either at Paris or York During my narrative
I often did beguile her of her tears
they flowed sincerely when I informed her of the struggles of my then tortured mind
I WELL knew that the confession of my past weakness must give her pain but I was certain she would receive it as the strongest mark of my present sincerity The tenderness and delicacy of her expressions upon this trying subject have if possible raised her in my esteem by convincing me that her understanding is as excellent as her heart and that her mind and person constitute a treasure almost too great for the most worthy man Sensible as I am of my own demerits can I ever be sufficiently grateful for such a blessing but I will endeavour to deserve it Seymour by devoting every hour of my future life to her happiness
SINCE the recovery of my reason I have received infinite pleasure from playing with my little boy How could I be insensible to the natural and innocent endearments of such a lovely creature but I find happiness and pleasure crouding in upon me through a thousand avenues that my delirium had rendered impervious to their soft attacks and I begin to think that I have been newformed as well as reformed since my redemption
LADY Woodville who is sincerely grateful for your kind attachment to her entreats you will at your return to Paris endeavour to find out Sir James Miller and purchase for him either a commission employment or annuity which may be sufficient for his support as the unhappy man has absolutely refused to accept lady Mount Williss bounty from the moment he discovered that it was to her he owed it There is something like greatness of mind in this circumstance which renders him an interesting object What mixtures are we compounded of You may guess your paymistress incog
I IMPATIENTLY long for the pleasure of hearing from you and am with the warmest affection of friendship
THIS letter will probably reach England but a few days before the writer of it but I
would not for a moment delay pouring forth my acknowledgments for the sincere pleasure I have received from your two last letters and my warmest congratulations on the charming subject of them
YES thank heaven my friend is restored to life to reason and to happiness can Seymour sigh while he repeats that sound O Woodville my cup has been severely dashed with sorrow nor has there 〈◊〉 yet one joy unmixed eer reached my heart Yet let me not complain my own imprudence formed the fatal web that has ensnared my peace the unhappy duel that I fought with captain Beaumont sealed its ruin
BUT why should I distress you by tracing my misfortunes to their source it is too much for you to know that I am wretched—no matter for what cause
THE length of time that has elapsed since my last letter to you has been fertile of sad events which I shall relate to you in as succinct a manner as I can
WHEN I had been about a week at Belleveue the good old general was attacked with a disorder in his stomach which had most alarming symptoms He was sensible of his situation but seemed to wish to conceal it from his children who vied with each other in their tenderness and affliction for him It is impossible to do justice to their merits or describe the affecting scene
AT the end of twelve days he expiried and left the most disconsolate family I ever beheld but Charlottes grief surpassed even credibility Neither her brother sister nor I could prevail upon her to leave the chamber where the body lay till the moment it was to be i•••erred She passed the nights and days in prayers and •…ars
—Judge what I suffered from my apprehensions for her
AS soon as the funeral was over she requested that we would indulge her with the liberty of passing a few days without interruption in her chamber We had no right to trespass on her grief but yet our fears for her too delicate constitution made us reluctantly comply with her desire
ON the fourth evening of her retirement she sent for madame de Carignan who flew to obey her summons but returning in a few minutes to captain Beaumont and me with an air of distraction cried out our miseries are but begun O hasten quickly or her angelic spirit will be fled And can I paint the sad the solemn scene no Woodville no it will live forever graved upon my heart—but words would wrong my feelings
CHARLOTTE my once beloved my now adored and sainted maid sighed out her soul to heaven
Grief will not kill us Woodville or I should not survive to tell her death—I can no more
my friend
IT was impossible for me to have added another word to my last letter I have but a very few more to say with regard to the Beaumont family and then the dear the fatal
name shall no more pass my lips but remain treasured up in my sad heart a precious hoard for everlasting grief to brood upon
I TOLD you in some of my former letters that captain Beaumont visited me every day during my confinement in the Chatelet He there beheld and became enamoured of the fair Maria DAngueville When he had been about ten days at Belleveue he acquainted me with his passion and intreated me to speak to his father upon the subject Accident prevented my having an opportunity of obeying him till the generals illness rendered it improper—and the real affliction which he has since felt seemed to have quenched the new enkindled flame
BUT a few days after our return to Paris he again reassumed the subject and begged me to apply to his fair cousin and his uncle for leave to pay his addresses to her I told him truly that the situation of my mind rendered me totally unfit to be the ambassador of love or joy but that I was determined before I should leave the Chatelet to return thanks for the humane and generous treatment I had met with from the governor and his fam•y and to intreat Marias acceptance of the legacy which her uncle the general had bequeathed me of twenty thousand livres
I THOUGHT that captain Beaumont appeared displeased at my intention as he coolly replied that he did not want a fortune with his wife and thought I had better bestow the legacy I did not chuse to accept upon some of the younger children of the family who might possibly stand in need of my bounty I told him that Marias likeness to his beloved sister had made her the principal object of my present attention and
that I would put it in her power to dispose of the sum in question as she thought proper
SOON after this conversation the captain withdrew and remained for several days so entirely absorbed in grief that I reflected not upon the unkindness of my friends conduct who neither came nor sent to me for near a fortnight
AT length he entered my chamber one morning without being announced and found me gazing so intently upon Charlottes picture that I saw him not till he exclaimed with a voice of distraction What unmerited affliction and distress has the unhappy Seymour brought on all the Beaumont race
THOUGH the severity of this reproach might have rouzed my resentment at another time I was so much softened by the object then before me my angel Charlottes face that bursting into tears I answered—O Beaumont cannot grief like this atone for my involuntary crimes and does my friend upbraid my misery
AT these words he rushed into my arms and cried forgive me Seymour Then started wildly from me and went on—but wherefore flow these tears upon a senseless object lost and forgotten in the grave when there is now a fairer and kinder maid ready to heal your sorrows
I COULD not avoid expressing my astonishment at this unintelligible discourse and it was a long time before he explained himself by telling me that the lovely and innocent Dangueville had conceived a passion for me during the time I remained a prisoner in the Chatelet and that upon being pressed by her father and mother to receive her cousins hand she had declared that she would rather pass her days in a cloister than with any other man but lord Seymour I was extremely affected with this intelligence as it
concerned my friend the unhappy girl and my own honour
I ASSURED captain Beaumont that I never had spoken to her upon the subject of love or made the least attempt to gain her affections and that I was ready to do every thing in my power to assist in conquering Marias weak partiality to me that might not injure her delicacy or my own character
THE frankness and sincerity of my manner soon got the better of his illgrounded suspicions he asked my pardon a thousand times for having entertained a doubt of my affection to his dear dead sister but hoped as I had been myself a lover I would forgive his rashness
IT was at last agreed upon between us that I should write to Maria directly and acquaint her with the real state of my heart which must be for ever incapable of love for any earthly object that I should not see her before I left Paris and at my setting out should take an everlasting leave of her by letter That neither her father nor any other person should press her to marry till time and reason might enable her to triumph over a passion which opposition would certainly increase That captain Beaumont would continue his assiduities without mentioning his love—That she should not know of the present I designed her till a year was elapsed but if at that time she refused to marry captain Beaumont I should be at liberty to put her in possession of the twenty thousand livres and that she should be allowed to dispose of them as she pleased
THIS affair thus settled my friend took his leave with a thousand acknowledgments for what he called a sacrifice and I sat down to fulfil my promise of writing to Maria—when Wilson announced
a very unexpected visitor it was madame de St Far the marchionesss mother whom I had never seen or heard of since the time that you first became acquainted with her daughter
SHE was then you may recollect an agreeable figure rather comely than handsome and plumper than the generality of her country women She is now emaciated to a skeleton and I could not help feeling some apprehensions that she would expire before she left my apartment as she was frequently much agitated during the time she staid
SHE told me that her daughter had suffered her to want even the common necessaries of life and had absolutely refused to see her from the moment she became a widow Though I detest the marchioness I could not avoid observing to madame de St Far that I imagined the first part of her accusation must be unjust as she had formerly appeared in the world as a woman of fortune and therefore must certainly be able to support herself independent of her daughters bounty
SHE told me I was much deceived and as she had no longer any terms to keep with the ungrateful marchioness she would reveal her real situation—She then informed me that she had lived for several years with a monsieur de Verville at Dijon by whom she had Isabella that at length by the persuasion of his friends monsieur de Verville determined to marry and parted with her and her daughter but allowed them a decent support and took every proper care of his childs education
THAT as she grew up extremely handsome madame de St Far determined to bring her to Paris in hopes of making her fortune and for
that purpose assumed the name she now used and endeavoured to appear like a person of distinction That the marchioness was perfectly acquainted with their circumstances and readily entered into the scheme but in order to carry it on she was obliged to run considerably in debt though they were not above six months in Paris before the marchioness had the good fortune to charm both you and the marquis de St Aumont
SHE added that the only reason her daughter ever gave for preferring the marquis to you was the probability of becoming her own mistress by his death for that she knew her own disposition so perfectly that she was certain she could not confine her affections to any one person long
O Woodville what an happy escape have you had from this vile woman but to make an end of this tedious tale She told me that monsieur de Verville died without a will soon after the marchionesss marriage and that she was by that means deprived even of the small income which he had allowed her She implored me to assist her in getting into some convent where she might pass the remainder of her days without hearing of her undutiful and unnatural daughter I have desired her to fix upon a proper place for her retirement and I will readily pay the sum necessary to her admission I presented her with my purse and desired to hear from her as soon as possible
THIS affair and lady Woodvilles commands to find out Sir James Miller will detain me a few days longer in Paris How earnestly do I long to quit it yet are not all places alike to the unhappy no there is one asylum and but one for wretchedness like mine—the peaceful grave
FORGIVE me Woodville for talking in this melancholy strain to my now happy friend—may you be long so is the warmest wish of
PS I know not whether I have told you that I have fought lady Ransford in vain ever since my return to Paris She quitted her hotel in a few days after Barnards death and has left no trace behind her
YOUR remark that neither happiness nor pleasure comes to us unmixed is but too aptly verified in me for the real and tender concern which your situation gives me is a strong alloy to that tranquil happiness I should at present enjoy if the friend of my heart were not wretched—There is something so uncommonly distressful in your circumstances that to attempt to lessen your affliction would be an insult to humanity—for who that has a heart to feel anothers loss would wish to stop the graceful tears that flow
where reason and where virtue oer the tomb are fellow mourners
I AM sorry for captain Beaumonts disappointment in love but I have infinitely more pity for
the young and innocent Maria You and I both know how difficult it is to struggle with the first fond impressions of the heart and women in general from a principle of delicacy are much more inclined than men to cherish their first passion even when hope is fled
I HAVE a melancholy proof of this truth too near me—poor lady Harriet Hanbury She still laments the unworthy Barnard and I fear will soon follow him to an untimely grave—while Sir James Thornton seems to have transferred the passion he felt for lady Woodville to Miss Weston who kindly receives his vows and will I hope soon crown his wishes
I CANNOT help being extremely shocked at the infamous conduct of the marchioness towards her mother—Why need we become volunteers in vice Our passions but too strongly and frequently impel us to break the bounds prescribed by virtue but then those passions may I humbly hope in some degree alleviate our transgressions but her unnatural behaviour to the unhappy woman who gave her birth admits of no extenuation This could not have proceeded from any passion and must therefore be a double vice
I am however much better pleased to owe my cure to Emilys virtues than to Isabellas vices as the knowledge of the former are a perpetual source of happiness to me while the discovery of the latter must for ever reflect on my own weakness in being so grossly deceived
MADAME de St Fars establishment in the convent must not be at your expence My Emily my lovely generous girl insists on paying her pension She must not be refused whatever she desires by Woodville or his friend
I MOST impatiently long for your return to England I wish you would meet us at Bristol where we purpose going in a few days for though my Emily is so much recovered that neither her physician nor herself think she has occasion to drink the waters I will not be satisfied unless she does as I flatter myself they may assist in confirming that health which her present happiness seems to have perfectly restored
SIR John lady Straffon and their daughter are now at Woodfort they and my sister Lawson are to accompany us to the Hotwells Lady Mount Willis has lain in at her house in Somersetshire—we are to pay her a visit en passant—she has got a son and is as happy as she is amiable We are all anxious to know what is become of Ransford of his stepmother and Sir James Miller but I am much more so to embrace my ever valued friend and if I cannot heal to sooth his sorrows—may that at least be in the power of Seymours most affectionate
YES Woodville I will take your counsel and hasten to lay hold on the possession of the only good that is now left me your generous friendship I will meet you at the Hotwells in a short time but I will not live in the same house with you nor return from thence to Woodfort I know the value of your regards too well to suffer it to be productive of misery to you or your deservedly happy wife—No Seymours
sorrows shall not cast a shade on the bright sunshine of your future days nor subject you to the unavailing pain of endeavouring to erase the dark engrained tints of melancholy which must form the colour of my life to come Yet I will frequently behold my friend and with sincere delight contemplate his felicity
I HAVE at last had a letter from Ransford Sure there is a fascination in the marchionesss charms He raves and is distracted at her having disowned him as a husband which she has formally done by her solicitor in order to recover the remainder of those effects which were confiscated on account of his duel with captain Barnard She carried her point they were restored to the marchioness de St Aumont but her creditors have seized on every thing she left Her husbands nephew has carried his suit against her but has allowed her an annuity of four thousand livres while she remains unmarried in respect to his uncles memory—I think this income is quite sufficient for her wants and infinitely beyond her merits I therefore intreat you to reserve your generosity for some more worthy object
THE now happy St Far is settled in a convent at Dijon where she proposes leading an exemplary life Lady Woodvilles expence for she must be obeyed will not amount to more than forty pounds a year
ABOUT ten days ago a monk came to my apartments and desired to speak with me He told me there was a lady in the Carmelites convent who begged to see me upon an affair of the utmost importance to one of my friends I enquired very particularly who the lady was he said he knew nothing more of her than that she was an Englishwoman and was called Jefferson
He added that at her request he had been often to seek for me while I was absent from Paris that he had given up all hopes of meeting me but rejoiced at his being more fortunate than he expected and intreated me to obey the ladys summons
THIS affair would have been matter of speculation to me if my mind had been sufficiently at ease to think about it but without reflecting at all upon the subject I entered the Carmelites convent at ten oclock the next morning and enquired for Mrs Jefferson—I did not wait long in the parlour when a lady dressed in deep mourning approached the grate I fixed my eyes intently upon her and knew her to be lady Ransford—A crimson glow overspread her cheek when she saluted me and at that moment she appeared a most interesting object
TO save her the trouble of apologizing for sending for me I told her how much I had been disappointed at not being able to discover her retreat at my return to Paris and I begged to know if I could be any way serviceable to her and at the same time intreated she would inform me of every thing she knew in relation to the unhappy affair between captain Barnard and my friend
HER tears flowed fast and silent while I spoke—When she perceived that I waited for her reply she took out her pocket book and presenting it to me said your lordship will there find two letters which will render any conversation with me upon this painful subject needless—I commit them to your care in order that every possible use may be made of them for Mr Ransfords advantage I bear no enmity to his father nor do I wish to make him an exile from that country to which I never more will return
I ASKED her with as much delicacy as I possibly could what scene of life she intended to pursue and again repeated the offer of my service to her She thanked me and said that captain Barnards death had made her think differently from what she had ever done before that she was too conscious of the enormity of her conduct to think of returning into the world that she therefore determined to pass her days in a convent but would always have it in her power to quit it as she did not mean to make any vows
I REALLY admired the rationality of her sentiments and of course approved them but was ignorant by what means she could be supported even in a convent till she assured me that at her marriage to Sir Harry Ransford he had signed an article allowing her in case of separation a power of three thousand pounds or an annuity of a hundred and fifty pounds a year during his life and a jointure of four hundred pounds a year at his death She said the annuity would be sufficient for her maintenance that she desired no favour from a person she was supposed to have injured though the fatal connection between Sir Harry and her had been the source of all her miseries
SHE begged me to forward Barnards letter to Ransford and to send copies of it to the captains friends in England in order to pave the way for Ransfords return I promised to obey her and took my leave as I now must of you in order to hasten my setting out—You will probably hear from me once more before you see your unhappy but
Amiens
I HAVE at length taken an everlasting leave of Paris and have got so far on my way to my native land but without being sensible of that charming enthusiasm which is stiled the Amor Patriae and which I believe has been oftner described than felt by voluntary exiles for I confess that I have very little idea of local attachments persons and not places have engrossed all the affections of which my heart is capable and though the sight of Albions chalky cliffs may not inspire me with much delight I shall certainly feel true pleasure when I behold my dear Woodville and his amiable wife
I SHOULD not stop on my journey to tell you this because I am sure you must know it untold but my worthy my faithful Wilson whom I have long considered as my friend though he still acts as my servant left Paris with a slight fever on him travelling has perhaps increased his malady and I purpose halting here till he is quite recovered
I GAVE you an account of my interview with lady Ransford in my last and will now inform you of the purport of those letters which were found in captain Barnards pocket after the duel That which was addressed to her ladyship was filled with tender adieus and soft contrition for having involved her in distress and leaving her probably exposed to misery in a foreign land with the most solemn intreaties not to prosecute
Mr Ransford in case he should survive as he there acknowledged that he had drawn the duel on himself
THAT which he wrote to Ransford was short yet contained the fullest declaration of his having fought the quarrel and its consequences from a weariness of life which he said must be for ever embittered by reflecting on the baseness of his behaviour towards lady Harriet Hanbury as well as on the unworthy part he had acted in seducing lady Ransford from her duty He implored his forgiveness for the injury he committed against the honour of his family and for having engaged him to hazard his life from a too earnest desire of getting rid of his own
HOW inconsistent is the conduct of this unfortunate man his attention to the preservation of his antagonists life is certainly noble but what an act of inhumanity was it to lay Ransford under the fatal necessity of becoming his executioner or how are we to reconcile the spirit of this last action with the unworthy te•…or of his former life
I AM convinced there is no human creature so intirely lost to virtue as not to be possessed of one good quality at least which if known and properly cultivated might in some measure counterbalance its owners vices to society but we are all too apt to reprobate a faulty character too indolent to search out the latent virtues of anothers heart and find it more for our ease to take it for granted that a vicious person must be vicious throughout than to seek for a grain of wheat in a bushel of chaff
AFTER many fruitless inquiries I am informed that Sir James Miller has obtained a commission in the Hungarian service by some of his friends here and that he left Paris about three weeks
ago in order to join his regiment Rans•… at Brussels but the marchioness and he do•… live together I have forwarded Barnards •…ter to him and flatter myself we shall soon 〈◊〉 him in England
MY parting with the dear remains of the Beaumont family was truly affecting madam de Carignon came to Paris on purpose to bid me adieu Captain Beaumont presented me with his and his fathers pictures he had before given me Charlottes portrait—Alas it was an useless gift as her dear image is too strongly graved on my sad heart
I WILL not dwell upon this subject longer but it is impossible that I should turn my thoughts to any other now—I can therefore only say
Farewell