The History of Emily Montague

  One look more at the wild graces of nature I leave behind.

  Adieu! Canada! adieu! sweet abode of the wood-nymphs! never shall Icease to remember with delight the place where I have passed so manyhappy hours.

  Heaven preserve my dear Lucy, and give prosperous gales to herfriends!

  Your faithful A. Fitzgerald.

  LETTER 173.

  To Miss Montague.

  Isle of Bic, Aug. 16.

  You are little obliged to me, my dear, for writing to you onship-board; one of the greatest miseries here, being the want ofemployment: I therefore write for my own amusement, not yours.

  We have some French ladies on board, but they do not resemble MadameDes Roches. I am weary of them already, though we have been so fewdays together.

  The wind is contrary, and we are at anchor under this island;Fitzgerald has proposed going to dine on shore: it looks excessivelypretty from the ship.

  Seven in the evening.

  We are returned from Bic, after passing a very agreable day.

  We dined on the grass, at a little distance from the shore, underthe shelter of a very fine wood, whose form, the trees rising aboveeach other in the same regular confusion, brought the dear shades ofSilleri to our remembrance.

  We walked after dinner, and picked rasberries, in the wood; and inour ramble came unexpectedly to the middle of a visto, which, whilstsome ships of war lay here, the sailors had cut through the island.

  From this situation, being a rising ground, we could see directlythrough the avenue to both shores: the view of each was wildlymajestic; the river comes finely in, whichever way you turn your sight;but to the south, which is more sheltered, the water just trembling tothe breeze, our ship which had put all her streamers out, and to whichthe tide gave a gentle motion, with a few scattered houses, faintlyseen amongst the trees at a distance, terminated the prospect, in amanner which was inchanting.

  I die to build a house on this island; it is pity such a sweet spotshould be uninhabited: I should like excessively to be Queen of Bic.

  Fitzgerald has carved my name on a maple, near the shore; a prettypiece of gallantry in a husband, you will allow: perhaps he means it astaking possession for me of the island.

  We are going to cards. Adieu! for the present.

  Aug. 18.

  'Tis one of the loveliest days I ever saw: we are fishing under theMagdalen islands; the weather is perfectly calm, the sea just dimpled,the sun-beams dance on the waves, the fish are playing on the surfaceof the water: the island is at a proper distance to form an agreablepoint of view; and upon the whole the scene is divine.

  There is one house on the island, which, at a distance, seems sobeautifully situated, that I have lost all desire of fixing at Bic: Iwant to land, and go to the house for milk, but there is no goodlanding place on this side; the island seems here to be fenced in by aregular wall of rock.

  A breeze springs up; our fishing is at an end for the present: I amafraid we shall not pass many days so agreably as we have done this. Ifeel horror at the idea of so soon losing sight of land, and launchingon the _vast Atlantic_.

  Adieu! yours, A. Fitzgerald.

  LETTER 174.

  To Mrs. Temple, Pall Mall.

  Aug. 26, at Sea.

  We have just fallen in with a ship from New York to London, and, asit is a calm, the master of it is come on board; whilst he is drinkinga bottle of very fine madeira, which Fitzgerald has tempted him with onpurpose to give me this opportunity, as it is possible he may arrivefirst, I will write a line, to tell my dear Lucy we are all well, andhope soon to have the happiness of telling her so in person; I alsosend what I scribbled before we lost sight of land; for I have had nospirits to write or do any thing since.

  There is inexpressible pleasure in meeting a ship at sea, andrenewing our commerce with the human kind, after having been soabsolutely separated from them. I feel strongly at this moment theinconstancy of the species: we naturally grow tired of the company onboard our own ship, and fancy the people in every one we meet moreagreable.

  For my part, this spirit is so powerful in me, that I would gladly,if I could have prevailed on my father and Fitzgerald, have gone onboard with this man, and pursued our voyage in the New York ship. Ihave felt the same thing on land in a coach, on seeing another pass.

  We have had a very unpleasant passage hitherto, and weather tofright a better sailor than your friend: it is to me astonishing, thatthere are men found, and those men of fortune too, who can fix on a sealife as a profession.

  How strong must be the love of gain, to tempt us to embrace a lifeof danger, pain, and misery; to give up all the beauties of nature andof art, all the charms of society, and separate ourselves from mankind,to amass wealth, which the very profession takes away all possibilityof enjoying!

  Even glory is a poor reward for a life passed at sea.

  I had rather be a peasant on a sunny bank, with peace, safety,obscurity, bread, and a little garden of roses, than lord high admiralof the British fleet.

  Setting aside the variety of dangers at sea, the time passed thereis a total suspension of one's existence: I speak of the best part ofour time there, for at least a third of every voyage is positivemisery.

  I abhor the sea, and am peevish with every creature about me.

  If there were no other evil attending this vile life, only think ofbeing cooped up weeks together in such a space, and with the sameeternal set of people.

  If cards had not a little relieved me, I should have died of meervexation before I had finished half the voyage.

  What would I not give to see the dear white cliffs of Albion!

  Adieu! I have not time to say more.

  Your affectionate A. Fitzgerald.

  LETTER 175.

  To Mrs. Temple, Pall Mall.

  Dover, Sept. 8.

  We are this instant landed, my dear, and shall be in town to-morrow.

  My father stops one day on the road, to introduce Mr. Fitzgerald toa relation of ours, who lives a few miles from Canterbury.

  I am wild with joy at setting foot once more on dry land.

  I am not less happy to have traced your brother and Emily, by myenquiries here, for we left Quebec too soon to have advice there oftheir arrival.

  Adieu! If in town, you shall see us the moment we get there; if inthe country, write immediately, to the care of the agent.

  Let me know where to find Emily, whom I die to see: is she stillEmily Montague?

  Adieu! Your affectionate A. Fitzgerald.

  LETTER 176.

  To Mrs. Fitzgerald.

  Temple-house, Sept. 11.

  Your letter, my dear Bell, was sent by this post to the country.

  It is unnecessary to tell you the pleasure it gives us all to hearof your safe arrival.

  All our argosies have now landed their treasures: you will believeus to have been more anxious about friends so dear to us, than themerchant for his gold and spices; we have suffered the greateranxiety, by the circumstance of your having returned at differenttimes.

  I flatter myself, the future will pay us for the past.

  You may now, my dear Bell, revive your coterie, with the addition ofsome friends who love you very sincerely.

  Emily (still Emily Montague) is with a relation in Berkshire,settling some affairs previous to her marriage with my brother, towhich we flatter ourselves there will be no further objections.

  I assure you, I begin to be a little jealous of this Emily of yours;she rivals me extremely with my mother, and indeed with every bodyelse.

  We all come to town next week, when you will make us very unhappy ifyou do not become one of our family in Pall Mall, and return with usfor a few months to the country.

  My brother is at his little estate, six miles from hence, where heis making some alterations, for the reception of Emily; he is fittingup her apartment in a style equally simple and elegant, which, however,you must not tell her, because
she is to be surprized: her dressingroom, and a little adjoining closet of books, will be enchanting; yetthe expence of all he has done is a mere trifle.

  I am the only person in the secret; and have been with him thismorning to see it: there is a gay, smiling air in the whole apartment,which pleases me infinitely; you will suppose he does not forget jarsof flowers, because you know how much they are Emily's taste: he hasforgot no ornament which he knew was agreable to her.

  Happily for his fortune, her pleasures are not of the expensivekind; he would ruin himself if they were.

  He has bespoke a very handsome post chaise, which is also a secretto Emily, who insists on not having one.

  Their income will be about five hundred pounds a year: it is notmuch; yet, with their dispositions, I think it will make them happy.

  My brother will write to Mr. Fitzgerald next post: say every thingaffectionate for us all to him and Captain Fermor.

  Adieu! Yours, Lucy Temple.

  LETTER 177.

  To Captain Fitzgerald.

  Bellfield, Sept. 13.

  I congratulate you, my dear friend, on your safe arrival, and onyour marriage.

  You have got the start of me in happiness; I love you, however, toosincerely to envy you.

  Emily has promised me her hand, as soon as some little familyaffairs are settled, which I flatter myself will not take above anotherweek.

  When she gave me this promise, she begged me to allow her to returnto Berkshire till our marriage took place; I felt the propriety ofthis step, and therefore would not oppose it: she pleaded having somebusiness also to settle with her relation there.

  My mother has given back the deed of settlement of my estate, andaccepted of an assignment on my half pay: she is greatly a loser; butshe insisted on making me happy, with such an air of tenderness, that Icould not deny her that satisfaction.

  I shall keep some land in my own hands, and farm; which will enableme to have a post chaise for Emily, and my mother, who will be a gooddeal with us; and a constant decent table for a friend.

  Emily is to superintend the dairy and garden; she has a passion forflowers, with which I am extremely pleased, as it will be to her acontinual source of pleasure.

  I feel such delight in the idea of making her happy, that I thinknothing a trifle which can be in the least degree pleasing to her.

  I could even wish to invent new pleasures for her gratification.

  I hope to be happy; and to make the loveliest of womankind so,because my notions of the state, into which I am entering, are I hopejust, and free from that romantic turn so destructive to happiness.

  I have, once in my life, had an attachment nearly resemblingmarriage, to a widow of rank, with whom I was acquainted abroad; andwith whom I almost secluded myself from the world near a twelvemonth,when she died of a fever, a stroke I was long before I recovered.

  I loved her with tenderness; but that love, compared to what I feelfor Emily, was as a grain of sand to the globe of earth, or the weightof a feather to the universe.

  A marriage where not only esteem, but passion is kept awake, is, Iam convinced, the most perfect state of sublunary happiness: but itrequires great care to keep this tender plant alive; especially, Iblush to say it, on our side.

  Women are naturally more constant, education improves this happydisposition: the husband who has the politeness, the attention, anddelicacy of a lover, will always be beloved.

  The same is generally, but not always, true on the other side: Ihave sometimes seen the most amiable, the most delicate of the sex,fail in keeping the affection of their husbands.

  I am well aware, my friend, that we are not to expect here a life ofcontinual rapture; in the happiest marriage there is danger of somelanguid moments: to avoid these, shall be my study; and I am certainthey are to be avoided.

  The inebriation, the tumult of passion, will undoubtedly grow lessafter marriage, that is, after peaceable possession; hopes and fearsalone keep it in its first violent state: but, though it subsides, itgives place to a tenderness still more pleasing, to a soft, and, if youwill allow the expression, a voluptuous tranquillity: the pleasure doesnot cease, does not even lessen; it only changes its nature.

  My sister tells me, she flatters herself, you will give a few monthsto hers and Mr. Temple's friendship; I will not give up the claim Ihave to the same favor.

  My little farm will induce only friends to visit us; and it is notless pleasing to me for that circumstance: one of the misfortunes of avery exalted station, is the slavery it subjects us to in regard to theceremonial world.

  Upon the whole, I believe, the most agreable, as well as most freeof all situations, to be that of a little country gentleman, who livesupon his income, and knows enough of the world not to envy his richerneighbours.

  Let me hear from you, my dear Fitzgerald, and tell me, if, little asI am, I can be any way of the least use to you.

  You will see Emily before I do; she is more lovely, more enchanting,than ever.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald will make me happy if she can invent any commandsfor me.

  Adieu! Believe me, Your faithful, &c. Ed. Rivers.

  LETTER 178.

  To Colonel Rivers, at Bellfield, Rutland.

  London, Sept. 15.

  Every mark of your friendship, my dear Rivers, must be particularlypleasing to one who knows your worth as I do: I have, therefore, tothank you as well for your letter, as for those obliging offers ofservice, which I shall make no scruple of accepting, if I have occasionfor them.

  I rejoice in the prospect of your being as happy as myself: nothingcan be more just than your ideas of marriage; I mean, of a marriagefounded on inclination: all that you describe, I am so happy as toexperience.

  I never loved my sweet girl so tenderly as since she has been mine;my heart acknowledges the obligation of her having trusted the futurehappiness or misery of her life in my hands. She is every hour moredear to me; I value as I ought those thousand little attentions, bywhich a new softness is every moment given to our affection.

  I do not indeed feel the same tumultuous emotion at seeing her; butI feel a sensation equally delightful: a joy more tranquil, but notless lively.

  I will own to you, that I had strong prejudices against marriage,which nothing but love could have conquered; the idea of anindissoluble union deterred me from thinking of a serious engagement: Iattached myself to the most seducing, most attractive of women,without thinking the pleasure I found in seeing her of any consequence;I thought her lovely, but never suspected I loved; I thought thedelight I tasted in hearing her, merely the effects of those charmswhich all the world found in her conversation; my vanity was gratifiedby the flattering preference she gave me to the rest of my sex; Ifancied this all, and imagined I could cease seeing the little syrenwhenever I pleased.

  I was, however, mistaken; love stole upon me imperceptibly, and_en badinant_; I was enslaved, when I only thought myself amused.

  We have not yet seen Miss Montague; we go down on Friday toBerkshire, Bell having some letters for her, which she was desired todeliver herself.

  I will write to you again the moment I have seen her.

  The invitation Mr. and Mrs. Temple have been so obliging as to giveus, is too pleasing to ourselves not to be accepted; we also expectwith impatience the time of visiting you at your farm.

  Adieu! Your affectionate J. Fitzgerald.

  LETTER 179.

  To Captain Fitzgerald.

  Stamford, Sept. 16, Evening.

  Being here on some business, my dear friend, I receive your letterin time to answer it to-night.

  We hope to be in town this day seven-night; and I flatter myself,my dearest Emily will not delay my happiness many days longer: I grudgeyou the pleasure of seeing her on Friday.

  I triumph greatly in your having been seduced into matrimony,because I never knew a man more of a turn to make an agreable husband;it was the idea that occurred to me the first moment I saw you
.

  Do you know, my dear Fitzgerald, that, if your little syren had notanticipated my purpose, I had designs upon you for my sister?

  Through that careless, inattentive look of yours, I saw so muchright sense, and so affectionate a heart, that I wished nothing so muchas that she might have attached you; and had laid a scheme to bring youacquainted, hoping the rest from the merit so conspicuous in you both.

  Both are, however, so happily disposed of elsewhere, that I have noreason to regret my scheme did not succeed.

  There is something in your person, as well as manner, which I amconvinced must be particularly pleasing to women; with an extremelyagreable form, you have a certain manly, spirited air, which promisesthem a protector; a look of understanding, which is the indication of apleasing companion; a sensibility of countenance, which speaks a friendand a lover; to which I ought to add, an affectionate, constantattention to women, and a polite indifference to men, which above allthings flatters the vanity of the sex.

  Of all men breathing, I should have been most afraid of you as arival; Mrs. Fitzgerald has told me, you have said the same thing of me.

  Happily, however, our tastes were different; the two amiableobjects of our tenderness were perhaps equally lovely; but it is notthe meer form, it is the character that strikes: the fire, the spirit,the vivacity, the awakened manner, of Miss Fermor won you; whilst myheart was captivated by that bewitching languor, that seducingsoftness, that melting sensibility, in the air of my sweet Emily, whichis, at least to me, more touching than all the sprightliness in theworld.