The History of Emily Montague
I have, however, known some beauties who had a right to please; thatis, who had a mixture of that invisible charm, that nameless gracewhich by no means depends on beauty, and which strikes the heart in amoment; but my first aversion is your _fine women_: don't youthink _a fine woman_ a detestable creature, Lucy? I do: they arevastly well to _fill_ public places; but as to the heart--Heavens,my dear! yet there are men, I suppose, to be found, who have a tastefor the great sublime in beauty.
Men are vastly foolish, my dear; very few of them have spirit tothink for themselves; there are a thousand Sir Charles Herberts: Ihave seen some of them weak enough to decline marrying the woman onearth most pleasing to themselves, because not thought handsome by thegenerality of their companions.
Women are above this folly, and therefore chuse much oftener fromaffection than men. We are a thousand times wiser, Lucy, than theseimportant beings, these mighty lords,
"Who strut and fret their hour upon the stage;"
and, instead of playing the part in life which nature dictates totheir reason and their hearts, act a borrowed one at the will ofothers.
I had rather even judge ill, than not judge for myself.
Adieu! yours ever, A. Fermor.
LETTER 83.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Quebec, March 4.
After debating with myself some days, I am determined to pursueEmily; but, before I make a declaration, will go to see some ungrantedlands at the back of Madame Des Roches's estate; which, lying on a veryfine river, and so near the St. Lawrence, may I think be cultivated atless expence than those above Lake Champlain, though in a much inferiorclimate: if I make my settlement here, I will purchase the estateMadame Des Roches has to sell, which will open me a road to the riverSt. Lawrence, and consequently treble the value of my lands.
I love, I adore this charming woman; but I will not suffer mytenderness for her to make her unhappy, or to lower her station inlife: if I can, by my present plan, secure her what will in thiscountry be a degree of affluence, I will endeavor to change herfriendship for me into a tenderer and more lively affection; if sheloves, I know by my own heart, that Canada will be no longer a place ofexile; if I have flattered myself, and she has only a friendship forme, I will return immediately to England, and retire with you and mymother to our little estate in the country.
You will perhaps say, why not make Emily of our party? I am almostashamed to speak plain; but so weak are we, and so guided by theprejudices we fancy we despise, that I cannot bear my Emily, afterrefusing a coach and six, should live without an equipage suitable atleast to her birth, and the manner in which she has always lived whenin England.
I know this is folly, that it is a despicable pride; but it is afolly, a pride, I cannot conquer.
There are moments when I am above all this childish prejudice, butit returns upon me in spite of myself.
Will you come to us, my Lucy? Tell my mother, I will build her arustic palace, and settle a little principality on you both.
I make this a private excursion, because I don't chuse any bodyshould even guess at my views. I shall set out in the evening, and makea circuit to cross the river above the town.
I shall not even take leave at Silleri, as I propose being back infour days, and I know your friend Bell will be inquisitive about myjourney.
Adieu! Your affectionate Ed. Rivers.
LETTER 84.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, March 6.
Your brother is gone nobody knows whither, and without calling uponus before he set off; we are piqued, I assure you, my dear, and withsome little reason.
Four o'clock.
Very strange news, Lucy; they say Colonel Rivers is gone to marryMadame Des Roches, a lady at whose house he was some time in autumn; ifthis is true, I forswear the whole sex: his manner of stealing off iscertainly very odd, and she is rich and agreable; but, if he does notlove Emily, he has been excessively cruel in shewing an attention whichhas deceived her into a passion for him. I cannot believe it possible:not that he has ever told her he loved her; but a man of honor willnot tell an untruth even with his eyes, and his have spoke a veryunequivocal language.
I never saw any thing like her confusion, when she was told he wasgone to visit Madame Des Roches; but, when it was hinted with whatdesign, I was obliged to take her out of the room, or she would havediscovered all the fondness of her soul. I really thought she wouldhave fainted as I led her out.
Eight o'clock.
I have sent away all the men, and drank tea in Emily's apartment;she has scarce spoke to me; I am miserable for her; she has a palenesswhich alarms me, the tears steal every moment into her lovely eyes.Can Rivers act so unworthy a part? her tenderness cannot have beenunobserved by him; it was too visible to every body.
9th, Ten o'clock.
Not a line from your brother yet; only a confirmation of his beingwith Madame Des Roches, having been seen there by some Canadians whoare come up this morning: I am not quite pleased, though I do notbelieve the report; he might have told us surely where he was going.
I pity Emily beyond words; she says nothing, but there is a dumbeloquence in her countenance which is not to be described.
Twelve o'clock.
I have been an hour alone with the dear little girl, who has, from ahint I dropt on purpose, taken courage to speak to me on this veryinteresting subject; she says, "she shall be most unhappy if thisreport is true, though without the least right to complain of ColonelRivers, who never even hinted a word of any affection for her moretender than friendship; that if her vanity, her self-love, or hertenderness, have deceived her, she ought only to blame herself." Sheadded, "that she wished him to marry Madame Des Roches, if she couldmake him happy;" but when she said this, an involuntary tear seemed tocontradict the generosity of her sentiments.
I beg your pardon, my dear, but my esteem for your brother isgreatly lessened; I cannot help fearing there is something in thereport, and that this is what Mrs. Melmoth meant when she mentioned hishaving an attachment.
I shall begin to hate the whole sex, Lucy, if I find your brotherunworthy, and shall give Fitzgerald his dismission immediately.
I am afraid Mrs. Melmoth knows men better than we foolish girls do:she said, he attached himself to Emily meerly from vanity, and I beginto believe she was right: how cruel is this conduct! The man who fromvanity, or perhaps only to amuse an idle hour, can appear to beattached where he is not, and by that means seduce the heart of adeserving woman, or indeed of any woman, falls in my opinion verylittle short in baseness of him who practises a greater degree ofseduction.
What right has he to make the most amiable of women wretched? awoman who would have deserved him had he been monarch of the universalworld! I might add, who has sacrificed ease and affluence to hertenderness for him?
You will excuse my warmth on such an occasion; however, as it maygive you pain, I will say no more.
Adieu! Your faithful A. Fermor.
LETTER 85.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Kamaraskas, March 12.
I have met with something, my dear Lucy, which has given me infiniteuneasiness; Madame Des Roches, from my extreme zeal to serve her in anaffair wherein she has been hardly used, from my second visit, and acertain involuntary attention, and softness of manner I have to allwomen, has supposed me in love with her, and with a frankness I cannotbut admire, and a delicacy not to be described, has let me know I amfar from being indifferent to her.
I was at first extremely embarrassed; but when I had reflected amoment, I considered that the ladies, though another may be the object,always regard with a kind of complacency a man who _loves_, asone who acknowledges the power of the sex, whereas an indifferent is akind of rebel to their empire; I considered also that the confessionof a prior inclination saves the most delicate vanity from beingwounded; and therefore determined to make her the confidante of mytenderness for Emily; leaving h
er an opening to suppose that, if myheart had been disengaged, it could not have escaped her attractions.
I did this with all possible precaution, and with every softeningfriendship and politeness could suggest; she was shocked at myconfession, but soon recovered herself enough to tell me she was highlyflattered by this proof of my confidence and esteem; that she believedme a man to have only the more respect for a woman who by owning herpartiality had told me she considered me not only as the most amiable,but the most noble of my sex; that she had heard, no love was sotender as that which was the child of friendship; but that of this shewas convinced, that no friendship was so tender as that which was thechild of love; that she offered me this tender, this lively friendship,and would for the future find her happiness in the consideration ofmine.
Do you know, my dear, that, since this confession, I feel a kind oftenderness for her, to which I cannot give a name? It is not love; forI love, I idolize another: but it is softer and more pleasing, as wellas more animated, than friendship.
You cannot conceive what pleasure I find in her conversation; shehas an admirable understanding, a feeling heart, and a mixture ofsoftness and spirit in her manner, which is peculiarly pleasing to men.My Emily will love her; I must bring them acquainted: she promises tocome to Quebec in May; I shall be happy to shew her every attentionwhen there.
I have seen the lands, and am pleased with them: I believe this willbe my residence, if Emily, as I cannot avoid hoping, will make mehappy; I shall declare myself as soon as I return, but must continuehere a few days longer: I shall not be less pleased with this situationfor its being so near Madame Des Roches, in whom Emily will find afriend worthy of her esteem, and an entertaining lively companion.
Adieu, my dear Lucy! Your affectionate Ed. Rivers.
I have fixed on the loveliest spot on earth, on which to build ahouse for my mother: do I not expect too much in fancying she willfollow me hither?
LETTER 86.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, March 13.
Still with Madame Des Roches; appearances are rather against him,you must own, Lucy: but I will not say all I think to you. Poor Emily!we dispute continually, for she will persist in defending his conduct;she says, he has a right to marry whoever he pleases; that her lovinghim is no tie upon his honor, especially as he does not even know ofthis preference; that she ought only to blame the weakness of her ownheart, which has betrayed her into a false belief that their tendernesswas mutual: this is pretty talking, but he has done every thing toconvince her of his feeling the strongest passion for her, exceptmaking a formal declaration.
She talks of returning to England the moment the river is open:indeed, if your brother marries, it is the only step left her to take. Ialmost wish now she had married Sir George: she would have had all the_douceurs_ of marriage; and as to love, I begin to think menincapable of feeling it: some of them can indeed talk well on thesubject; but self-interest and vanity are the real passions of theirsouls. I detest the whole sex.
Adieu! A. Fermor.
LETTER 87.
To the Earl of ----.
My Lord,
Silleri, March 13.
I generally distrust my own opinion when it differs from yourLordship's; but in this instance I am most certainly in the right:allow me to say, nothing can be more ill-judged than your Lordship'sdesign of retiring into a small circle, from that world of which youhave so long been one of the most brilliant ornaments. What you say ofthe disagreableness of age, is by no means applicable to your Lordship;nothing is in this respect so fallible as the parish register. Whyshould any man retire from society whilst he is capable of contributingto the pleasures of it? Wit, vivacity, good-nature, and politeness,give an eternal youth, as stupidity and moroseness a premature oldage. Without a thousandth part of your Lordship's shining qualities, Ithink myself much younger than half the boys about me, meerly because Ihave more good-nature, and a stronger desire of pleasing.
My daughter is much honored by your Lordship's enquiries: she isBell Fermor still; but is addressed by a gentleman who is extremelyagreable to me, and I believe not less so to her; I however know toowell the free spirit of woman, of which she has her full share, to letBell know I approve her choice; I am even in doubt whether it would notbe good policy to seem to dislike the match, in order to secure herconsent: there is something very pleasing to a young girl, in opposingthe will of her father.
To speak truth, I am a little out of humor with her at present, forhaving contributed, and I believe entirely from a spirit of oppositionto me, to break a match on which I had extremely set my heart; thelady was the niece of my particular friend, and one of the mostlovely and deserving women I ever knew: the gentleman very worthy, withan agreable, indeed a very handsome person, and a fortune which withthose who know the world, would have compensated for the want of mostother advantages.
The fair lady, after an engagement of two years, took a whim thatthere was no happiness in marriage without being madly in love, andthat her passion was not sufficiently romantic; in which piece of follymy rebel encouraged her, and the affair broke off in a manner which hasbrought on her the imputation of having given way to an idleprepossession in favor of another.
Your Lordship will excuse my talking on a subject very near myheart, though uninteresting to you; I have too often experienced yourLordship's indulgence to doubt it on this occasion: your good-naturedphilosophy will tell you, much fewer people talk or write to amuse orinform their friends, than to give way to the feelings of their ownhearts, or indulge the governing passion of the moment.
In my next, I will endeavor in the best manner I can, to obey yourLordship's commands in regard to the political and religious state ofCanada: I will make a point of getting the best information possible;what I have yet seen, has been only the surface.
I have the honor to be, My Lord, Your Lordship's &c. William Fermor.
LETTER 88.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, March 16, Monday.
Your brother is come back; and has been here: he came after dinneryesterday. My Emily is more than woman; I am proud of her behaviour:he entered with his usual impatient air; she received him with adignity which astonished me, and disconcerted him: there was a cooldispassionate indifference in her whole manner, which I saw cut hisvanity to the quick, and for which he was by no means prepared.
On such an occasion I should have flirted violently with some otherman, and have shewed plainly I was piqued: she judged much better; Ihave only to wish it may last. He is the veriest coquet in nature, for,after all, I am convinced he loves Emily.
He stayed a very little time, and has not been here this morning; hemay pout if he pleases, but I flatter myself we shall hold out thelongest.
Nine o'clock.
He came to dine; we kept up our state all dinner time; he begged amoment's conversation, which we refused, but with a timid air thatmakes me begin to fear we shall beat a parley: he is this moment gone,and Emily retired to her apartment on pretence of indisposition: I amafraid she is a foolish girl.
Half hour after six.
It will not do, Lucy: I found her in tears at the window, followingRivers's carriole with her eyes: she turned to me with such a look--inshort, my dear,
"The weak, the fond, the fool, the coward woman"
has prevailed over all her resolution: her love is only the moreviolent for having been a moment restrained; she is not equal to thetask she has undertaken; her resentment was concealed tenderness, andhas retaken its first form.
I am sorry to find there is not one wise woman in the world butmyself.
Past ten.
I have been with her again: she seemed a little calmer; I commendedher spirit; she disavowed it; was peevish with me, angry with herself;said she had acted in a manner unworthy her character; accused herselfof caprice, artifice, and cruelty; said she ought to have seen him, ifnot alone, yet with me o
nly: that it was natural he should be surprizedat a reception so inconsistent with true friendship, and thereforethat he should wish an explanation; that _her_ Rivers (and why notMadame Des Roches's Rivers?) was incapable of acting otherwise than asbecame the best and most tender of mankind, and that therefore sheought not to have suffered a whisper injurious to his honor: that I hadmeant well, but had, by depriving her of Rivers's friendship, which shehad lost by her haughty behaviour, destroyed all the happiness of herlife.
To be sure, your poor Bell is always to blame: but if ever Iintermeddle between lovers again, Lucy--
I am sure she was ten times more angry with him than I was, but thisit is to be too warm in the interest of our friends.
Adieu! till to-morrow. Yours, A. Fermor.
I can only say, that if Fitzgerald had visited a handsome richFrench widow, and staid with her ten days _tete a tete_ in thecountry, without my permission--
O Heavens! here is _mon cher pere_: I must hide my letter.
_Bon soir. _
LETTER 89.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Quebec, March 6.
I cannot account, my dear, for what has happened to me. I leftMadame Des Roches's full of the warm impatience of love, and flew to myEmily at Silleri: I was received with a disdainful coldness which I didnot think had been in her nature, and which has shocked me beyond allexpression.
I went again to-day, and met with the same reception; I even saw mypresence was painful to her, therefore shortened my visit, and, if Ihave resolution to persevere, will not go again till invited by CaptainFermor in form.