The History of Emily Montague
The Canadian ladies wear these cloaks in India silk in summer,which, fluttering in the wind, look really graceful on a fine woman.
Besides our riding-hoods, when we go out, we have a large buffaloe'sskin under our feet, which turns up, and wraps round us almost to ourshoulders; so that, upon the whole, we are pretty well guarded from theweather as well as the men.
Our covered carrioles too have not only canvas windows (we dare nothave glass, because we often overturn), but cloth curtains to draw allround us; the extreme swiftness of these carriages also, which dartalong like lightening, helps to keep one warm, by promoting thecirculation of the blood.
I pity the Fitz; no tiger was ever so hard-hearted as I am thisweather: the little god has taken his flight, like the swallows. I saynothing, but cruelty is no virtue in Canada; at least at this season.
I suppose Pygmalion's statue was some frozen Canadian gentlewoman,and a sudden warm day thawed her. I love to expound ancient fables, andI think no exposition can be more natural than this.
Would you know what makes me chatter so this morning? Papa has mademe take some excellent _liqueur_; 'tis the mode here; all theCanadian ladies take a little, which makes them so coquet and agreable.Certainly brandy makes a woman talk like an angel. Adieu!
Yours, A. Fermor.
LETTER 50.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Jan. 4.
I don't quite agree with you, my dear; your brother does not appearto me to have the least scruple of that foolish false modesty whichstands in a man's way.
He is extremely what the French call _awakened_; he is modest,certainly; that is, he is not a coxcomb, but he has all that properself-confidence which is necessary to set his agreable qualities infull light: nothing can be a stronger proof of this, than that,wherever he is, he always takes your attention in a moment, and thiswithout seeming to solicit it.
I am very fond of him, though he never makes love to me, in whichcircumstance he is very singular: our friendship is quite platonic, atleast on his side, for I am not quite so sure on the other. I rememberone day in summer we were walking _tete a tete_ in the road toCape Rouge, when he wanted me to strike into a very beautiful thicket:"Positively, Rivers," said I, "I will not venture with you into thatwood." "Are you afraid of _me_, Bell?" "No, but extremely of_myself_."
I have loved him ever since a little scene that passed here three orfour months ago: a very affecting story, of a distressed family in ourneighbourhood, was told him and Sir George; the latter preserved allthe philosophic dignity and manly composure of his countenance, verycoldly expressed his concern, and called another subject: your brotherchanged color, his eyes glistened; he took the first opportunity toleave the room, he sought these poor people, he found, he relievedthem; which we discovered by accident a month after.
The weather, tho' cold beyond all that you in England can form anidea of, is yet mild to what it has been the last five or six days; weare going to Quebec, to church.
Two o'clock.
Emily and I have been talking religion all the way home: we are bothmighty good girls, as girls go in these degenerate days; ourgrandmothers to be sure--but it's folly to look back.
We have been saying, Lucy, that 'tis the strangest thing in theworld people should quarrel about religion, since we undoubtedly allmean the same thing; all good minds in every religion aim at pleasingthe Supreme Being; the means we take differ according to the countrywhere we are born, and the prejudices we imbibe from education; aconsideration which ought to inspire us with kindness and indulgence toeach other.
If we examine each other's sentiments with candor, we shall findmuch less difference in essentials than we imagine;
"Since all agree to own, at least to mean, One great, one good, one general Lord of all."
There is, I think, a very pretty Sunday reflexion for you, Lucy.
You must know, I am extremely religious; and for this amongst otherreasons, that I think infidelity a vice peculiarly contrary to thenative softness of woman: it is bold, daring, masculine; and I shouldalmost doubt the sex of an unbeliever in petticoats.
Women are religious as they are virtuous, less from principlesfounded on reasoning and argument, than from elegance of mind, delicacyof moral taste, and a certain quick perception of the beautiful andbecoming in every thing.
This instinct, however, for such it is, is worth all the tediousreasonings of the men; which is a point I flatter myself you will notdispute with me.
Monday, Jan. 5.
This is the first day I have ventured in an open carriole; we havebeen running a race on the snow, your brother and I against Emily andFitzgerald: we conquered from Fitzgerald's complaisance to Emily. Ishall like it mightily, well wrapt up: I set off with a crape over myface to keep off the cold, but in three minutes it was a cake of solidice, from my breath which froze upon it; yet this is called a mild day,and the sun shines in all his glory.
Silleri, Thursday, Jan. 8, midnight.
We are just come from the general's assembly; much company, and wedanced till this minute; for I believe we have not been more comingthese four miles.
Fitzgerald is the very pink of courtesy; he never uses his coveredcarriole himself, but devotes it intirely to the ladies; it stands atthe general's door in waiting on Thursdays: if any lady comes outbefore her carriole arrives, the servants call out mechanically,"Captain Fitzgerald's carriole here, for a lady." The Colonel isequally gallant, but I generally lay an embargo on his: they have eachof them an extreme pretty one for themselves, or to drive a fair lady amorning's airing, when she will allow them the honor, and the weatheris mild enough to permit it.
_Bon soir!_ I am sleepy. Yours, A. Fermor.
LETTER 51.
To John Temple, Esq; Pall Mall.
Quebec, Jan. 9.
You mistake me extremely, Jack, as you generally do: I have by nomeans forsworn marriage: on the contrary, though happiness is not sooften found there as I wish it was, yet I am convinced it is to befound no where else; and, poor as I am, I should not hesitate abouttrying the experiment myself to-morrow, if I could meet with a womanto my taste, unappropriated, whose ideas of the state agreed with mine,which I allow are something out of the common road: but I must becertain those ideas are her own, therefore they must arisespontaneously, and not in complaisance to mine; for which reason, if Icould, I would endeavour to lead my mistress into the subject, and knowher sentiments on the manner of living in that state before Idiscovered my own.
I must also be well convinced of her tenderness before I make adeclaration of mine: she must not distinguish me because I flatter her,but because she thinks I have merit; those fancied passions, wheregratified vanity assumes the form of love, will not satisfy my heart:the eyes, the air, the voice of the woman I love, a thousand littleindiscretions dear to the heart, must convince me I am beloved, beforeI confess I love.
Though sensible of the advantages of fortune, I can be happy withoutit: if I should ever be rich enough to live in the world, no one willenjoy it with greater gust; if not, I can with great spirit, provided Ifind such a companion as I wish, retire from it to love, content, and acottage: by which I mean to the life of a little country gentleman.
You ask me my opinion of the winter here. If you can bear a degreeof cold, of which Europeans can form no idea, it is far from beingunpleasant; we have settled frost, and an eternal blue sky. Travellingin this country in winter is particularly agreable: the carriages areeasy, and go on the ice with an amazing velocity, though drawn only byone horse.
The continual plain of snow would be extremely fatiguing both to theeye and imagination, were not both relieved, not only by the woods inprospect, but by the tall branches of pines with which the road ismarked out on each side, and which form a verdant avenue agreablycontrasted with the dazzling whiteness of the snow, on which, when thesun shines, it is almost impossible to look steadily even for a moment.
Were it not for this method of
marking out the roads, it would beimpossible to find the way from one village to another.
The eternal sameness however of this avenue is tiresome when you gofar in one road.
I have passed the last two months in the most agreable mannerpossible, in a little society of persons I extremely love: I feelmyself so attached to this little circle of friends, that I have nopleasure in any other company, and think all the time absolutely lostthat politeness forces me to spend any where else. I extremely dreadour party's being dissolved, and wish the winter to last for ever, forI am afraid the spring will divide us.
Adieu! and believe me, Yours, Ed. Rivers.
LETTER 52.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Jan. 9.
I begin not to disrelish the winter here; now I am used to the cold,I don't feel it so much: as there is no business done here in thewinter, 'tis the season of general dissipation; amusement is the studyof every body, and the pains people take to please themselvescontribute to the general pleasure: upon the whole, I am not sure it isnot a pleasanter winter than that of England.
Both our houses and our carriages are uncommonly warm; the clearserene sky, the dry pure air, the little parties of dancing and cards,the good tables we all keep, the driving about on the ice, theabundance of people we see there, for every body has a carriole, thevariety of objects new to an European, keep the spirits in a continualagreable hurry, that is difficult to describe, but very pleasant tofeel.
Sir George (would you believe it?) has written Emily a very warmletter; tender, sentimental, and almost impatient; Mrs. Melmoth'sdictating, I will answer for it; not at all in his own composedagreable style. He talks of coming down in a few days: I have a strongnotion he is coming, after his long tedious two years siege, toendeavor to take us by storm at last; he certainly prepares for a_coup de main_. He is right, all women hate a regular attack.
Adieu for the present.
Monday, Jan. 12.
We sup at your brother's to-night, with all the _beau monde_ ofQuebec: we shall be superbly entertained, I know. I am malicious enoughto wish Sir George may arrive during the entertainment, because I havean idea it will mortify him; though I scarce know why I think so.Adieu!
Yours, A. Fermor.
LETTER 53.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Jan. 13, Eleven o'clock.
We passed a most agreable evening with your brother, though a largecompany, which is seldom the case: a most admirable supper, excellentwine, an elegant dessert of preserved fruits, and every body in spiritsand good humor.
The Colonel was the soul of our entertainment: amongst his othervirtues, he has the companionable and convivial ones to an immensedegree, which I never had an opportunity of discovering so clearlybefore. He seemed charmed beyond words to see us all so happy: we staidtill four o'clock in the morning, yet all complained to-day we cameaway too soon.
I need not tell you we had fiddles, for there is no entertainment inCanada without them: never was such a race of dancers.
One o'clock.
The dear man is come, and with an equipage which puts the Empress ofRussia's tranieau to shame. America never beheld any thing sobrilliant:
"All other carrioles, at sight of this, Hide their diminish'd heads."
Your brother's and Fitzgerald's will never dare to appear now; theysink into nothing.
Seven in the evening.
Emily has been in tears in her chamber; 'tis a letter of Mrs.Melmoth's which has had this agreable effect; some wise advice, Isuppose. Lord! how I hate people that give advice! don't you, Lucy?
I don't like this lover's coming; he is almost as bad as a husband:I am afraid he will derange our little coterie; and we have been sohappy, I can't bear it.
Good night, my dear.
Yours, A. Fermor.
LETTER 54.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Jan. 14.
We have passed a mighty stupid day; Sir George is civil, attentive,and dull; Emily pensive, thoughtful, and silent; and my little self aspeevish as an old maid: nobody comes near us, not even your brother,because we are supposed to be settling preliminaries; for you mustknow Sir George has graciously condescended to change his mind, andwill marry her, if she pleases, without waiting for his mother'sletter, which resolution he has communicated to twenty people at Quebecin his way hither; he is really extremely obliging. I suppose theMelmoths have spirited him up to this.
One o'clock.
Emily is strangely reserved to me; she avoids seeing me alone, andwhen it happens talks of the weather; papa is however in herconfidence: he is as strong an advocate for this milky baronet as Mrs.Melmoth.
Ten at night.
All is over, Lucy; that is to say, all is fixed: they are to bemarried on Monday next at the Recollects church, and to set offimmediately for Montreal: my father has been telling me the whole planof operations: we go up with them, stay a fortnight, then all comedown, and show away till summer, when the happy pair embark in thefirst ship for England.
Emily is really what one would call a prudent pretty sort of woman,I did not think it had been in her: she is certainly right, there isdanger in delay; she has a thousand proverbs on her side; I thoughtwhat all her fine sentiments would come to; she should at least havewaited for mamma's consent; this hurry is not quite consistent withthat extreme delicacy on which she piques herself; it looks exceedinglyas if she was afraid of losing him.
I don't love her half so well as I did three days ago; I hatediscreet young ladies that marry and settle; give me an agreable fellowand a knapsack.
My poor Rivers! what will become of him when we are gone? he hasneglected every body for us.
As she loves the pleasures of conversation, she will be amazinglyhappy in her choice;
"With such a companion to spend the long day!"
He is to be sure a most entertaining creature.
Adieu! I have no patience.
Yours, A. Fermor.
After all, I am a little droll; I am angry with Emily for concludingan advantageous match with a man she does not absolutely dislike, whichall good mammas say is sufficient; and this only because it breaks inon a little circle of friends, in whose society I have been happy. O!self! self! I would have her hazard losing a fine fortune and a coachand six, that I may continue my coterie two or three months longer.
Adieu! I will write again as soon as we are married. My next will, Isuppose, be from Montreal. I die to see your brother and my littleFitzgerald; this man gives me the vapours. Heavens! Lucy, what adifference there is in men!
END OF VOL. I.
THE HISTORY OF EMILY MONTAGUE.
Vol. II
LETTER 55.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Jan. 16.
So, my dear, we went on too fast, it seems: Sir George was soobliging as to settle all without waiting for Emily's consent; nothaving supposed her refusal to be in the chapter of possibilities:after having communicated their plan of operations to me as an affairsettled, papa was dispatched, as Sir George's ambassador, to informEmily of his gracious intentions in her favor.
She received him with proper dignity, and like a girl of true spirittold him, that as the delay was originally from Sir George, she shouldinsist on observing the conditions very exactly, and was determined towait till spring, whatever might be the contents of Mrs. Clayton'sexpected letter; reserving to herself also the privilege of refusinghim even then, if upon mature deliberation she should think proper soto do.
She has further insisted, that till that time he shall leaveSilleri; take up his abode at Quebec, unless, which she thinks mostadviseable, he should return to Montreal for the winter; and neverattempt seeing her without witnesses, as their present situation isparticularly delicate, and that whilst it continues they can havenothing to say to each other which their common friends may not withpropriety hear: all she can be prevail
ed on to consent to in his favor,is to allow him _en attendant_ to visit here like any othergentleman.
I wish she would send him back to Montreal, for I see plainly hewill spoil all our little parties.
Emily is a fine girl, Lucy, and I am friends with her again; so, mydear, I shall revive my coterie, and be happy two or three monthslonger. I have sent to ask my two sweet fellows at Quebec to dine here:I really long to see them; I shall let them into the present state ofaffairs here, for they both despise Sir George as much as I do; thecreature looks amazingly foolish, and I enjoy his humiliation not alittle: such an animal to set up for being beloved indeed! O to besure!
Emily has sent for me to her apartment. Adieu for a moment.
Eleven o'clock.
She has shewn me Mrs. Melmoth's letter on the subject of concludingthe marriage immediately: it is in the true spirit of familyimpertinence. She writes with the kind discreet insolence of arelation; and Emily has answered her with the genuine spirit of anindependent Englishwoman, who is so happy as to be her own mistress,and who is therefore determined to think for herself.
She has refused going to Montreal at all this winter; and hashinted, though not impolitely, that she wants no guardian of herconduct but herself; adding a compliment to my ladyship's discretion sovery civil, it is impossible for me to repeat it with decency.