Don't reason with me on this subject: I know it is madness tocontinue to see her; but I find a delight in her conversation, which Icannot prevail on myself to give up till she is actually married.
I respect her engagements, and pretend to no more from her than herfriendship; but, as to myself, will love her in whatever manner Iplease: to shew you my prudence, however, I intend to dance with thehandsomest unmarried Frenchwoman here on Thursday, and to shew her anattention which shall destroy all suspicion of my tenderness for Emily.I am jealous of Sir George, and hate him; but I dissemble it betterthan I thought it possible for me to do.
My Lucy, I am not happy; my mind is in a state not to be described;I am weak enough to encourage a hope for which there is not the leastfoundation; I misconstrue her friendship for me every moment; and thatattention which is meerly gratitude for my apparent anxiety to oblige.I even fancy her eyes understand mine, which I am afraid speak tooplainly the sentiments of my heart.
I love her, my dear girl, to madness; these three days--
I am interrupted. Adieu!
Yours, Ed. Rivers.
'Tis Capt. Fermor, who insists on my dining at Silleri. They willeternally throw me in the way of this lovely woman: of what materialsdo they suppose me formed?
LETTER 25.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Oct. 3, Twelve o'clock.
An enchanting ball, my dear; your little friend's head is turned. Iwas more admired than Emily, which to be sure did not flatter my vanityat all: I see she must content herself with being beloved, for withoutcoquetry 'tis in vain to expect admiration.
We had more than three hundred persons at the ball; above threefourths men; all gay and well dressed, an elegant supper; in short,it was charming.
I am half inclined to marry; I am not at all acquainted with the manI have fixed upon, I never spoke to him till last night, nor did hetake the least notice of me, more than of other ladies, but that isnothing; he pleases me better than any man I have seen here; he is nothandsome, but well made, and looks like a gentleman; he has a goodcharacter, is heir to a very pretty estate. I will think further of it:there is nothing more easy than to have him if I chuse it: 'tis onlysaying to some of his friends, that I think Captain Fitzgerald the mostagreable fellow here, and he will immediately be astonished he did notsooner find out I was the handsomest woman. I will consider this affairseriously; one must marry, 'tis the mode; every body marries; whydon't you marry, Lucy?
This brother of yours is always here; I am surprized Sir George isnot jealous, for he pays no sort of attention to me, 'tis easy to seewhy he comes; I dare say I shan't see him next week: Emily is going toMrs. Melmoth's, where she stays till to-morrow sevennight; she goesfrom hence as soon as dinner is over.
Adieu! I am fatigued; we danced till morning; I am but this momentup.
Yours, A. Fermor.
Your brother danced with Mademoiselle Clairaut; do you know I waspiqued he did not give me the preference, as Emily danced with herlover? not but that I had perhaps a partner full as agreable, at leastI have a mind to think so.
I hear it whispered that the whole affair of the wedding is to besettled next week; my father is in the secret, I am not. Emily looksill this morning; she was not gay at the ball. I know not why, but sheis not happy. I have my fancies, but they are yet only fancies.
Adieu! my dear girl; I can no more.
LETTER 26.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Quebec, Oct. 6.
I am going, my Lucy.--I know not well whither I am going, but Iwill not stay to see this marriage. Could you have believed itpossible--But what folly! Did I not know her situation from the first?Could I suppose she would break off an engagement of years, with a manwho gives so clear a proof that he prefers her to all other women, tohumor the frenzy of one who has never even told her he loved her?
Captain Fermor assures me all is settled but the day, and that shehas promised to name that to-morrow.
I will leave Quebec to-night; no one shall know the road I take: Ido not yet know it myself; I will cross over to Point Levi with myvalet de chambre, and go wherever chance directs me. I cannot bear evento hear the day named. I am strongly inclined to write to her; but whatcan I say? I should betray my tenderness in spite of myself, and hercompassion would perhaps disturb her approaching happiness: were iteven possible she should prefer me to Sir George, she is too far goneto recede.
My Lucy, I never till this moment felt to what an excess I lovedher.
Adieu! I shall be about a fortnight absent: by that time she will beembarked for England. I cannot bring myself to see her the wife ofanother. Do not be alarmed for me; reason and the impossibility ofsuccess will conquer my passion for this angelic woman; I have been toblame in allowing myself to see her so often.
Yours, Ed. Rivers.
LETTER 27.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Beaumont, Oct. 7.
I think I breathe a freer air now I am out of Quebec. I cannot bearwherever I go to meet this Sir George; his triumphant air isinsupportable; he has, or I fancy he has, all the insolence of a happyrival; 'tis unjust, but I cannot avoid hating him; I look on him as aman who has deprived me of a good to which I foolishly fancy I hadpretensions.
My whole behaviour has been weak to the last degree: I shall growmore reasonable when I no longer see this charming woman; I oughtsooner to have taken this step.
I have found here an excuse for my excursion; I have heard of anestate to be sold down the river; and am told the purchase will beless expence than clearing any lands I might take up. I will go and seeit; it is an object, a pursuit, and will amuse me.
I am going to send my servant back to Quebec; my manner of leavingit must appear extraordinary to my friends; I have therefore made thisestate my excuse. I have written to Miss Fermor that I am going to makea purchase; have begged my warmest wishes to her lovely friend, forwhose happiness no one on earth is more anxious; but have told her SirGeorge is too much the object of my envy, to expect from me verysincere congratulations.
Adieu! my servant waits for this. You shall hear an account of myadventures when I return to Quebec.
Yours, Ed. Rivers.
LETTER 28.
To Miss Fermor, at Silleri.
Quebec, Oct. 7, twelve o'clock.
I must see you, my dear, this evening; my mind is in an agitationnot to be expressed; a few hours will determine my happiness or miseryfor ever; I am displeased with your father for precipitating adetermination which cannot be made with too much caution.
I have a thousand things to say to you, which I can say to no oneelse.
Be at home, and alone; I will come to you as soon as dinner is over.
Adieu! Your affectionate Emily Montague.
LETTER 29.
To Miss Montague, at Quebec.
I will be at home, my dear, and denied to every body but you.
I pity you, my dear Emily; but I am unable to give you advice.
The world would wonder at your hesitating a moment.
Your faithful A. Fermor.
LETTER 30.
To Miss Fermor, at Silleri.
Quebec, Oct. 7, three o'clock.
My visit to you is prevented by an event beyond my hopes. Sir Georgehas this moment a letter from his mother, desiring him earnestly topostpone his marriage till spring, for some reasons of consequence tohis fortune, with the particulars of which she will acquaint him by thenext packet.
He communicated this intelligence to me with a grave air, but with atranquillity not to be described, and I received it with a joy I foundit impossible wholly to conceal.
I have now time to consult both my heart and my reason at leisure,and to break with him, if necessary, by degrees.
What an escape have I had! I was within four and twenty hours ofeither determining to marry a man with whom I fear I have little cha
nceto be happy, or of breaking with him in a manner that would havesubjected one or both of us to the censures of a prying impertinentworld, whose censures the most steady temper cannot always contemn.
I will own to you, my dear, I every hour have more dread of thismarriage: his present situation has brought his faults into full light.Captain Clayton, with little more than his commission, was modest,humble, affable to his inferiors, polite to all the world; and Ifancied him possessed of those more active virtues, which I supposedthe smallness of his fortune prevented from appearing. 'Tis with pain Isee that Sir George, with a splendid income, is avaricious, selfish,proud, vain, and profuse; lavish to every caprice of vanity andostentation which regards himself, coldly inattentive to the realwants of others.
Is this a character to make your Emily happy? We were not formed foreach other: no two minds were ever so different; my happiness is infriendship, in the tender affections, in the sweets of dear domesticlife; his in the idle parade of affluence, in dress, in equipage, inall that splendor, which, whilst it excites envy, is too often the markof wretchedness.
Shall I say more? Marriage is seldom happy where there is a greatdisproportion of fortune. The lover, after he loses that endearingcharacter in the husband, which in common minds I am afraid is notlong, begins to reflect how many more thousands he might have expected;and perhaps suspects his mistress of those interested motives inmarrying, of which he now feels his own heart capable. Coldness,suspicion, and mutual want of esteem and confidence, follow of course.
I will come back with you to Silleri this evening; I have nohappiness but when I am with you. Mrs. Melmoth is so fond of SirGeorge, she is eternally persecuting me with his praises; she isextremely mortified at this delay, and very angry at the manner inwhich I behave upon it.
Come to us directly, my dear Bell, and rejoice with your faithful
Emily Montague.
LETTER 31.
To Miss Montague, at Quebec.
I congratulate you, my dear; you will at least have the pleasure ofbeing five or six months longer your own mistress; which, in myopinion, when one is not violently in love, is a consideration worthattending to. You will also have time to see whether you like any bodyelse better; and you know you can take him if you please at last.
Send him up to his regiment at Montreal with the Melmoths; stay thewinter with me, flirt with somebody else to try the strength of yourpassion, and, if it holds out against six months absence, and theattention of an agreable fellow, I think you may safely venture tomarry him.
_A propos_ to flirting, have you seen Colonel Rivers? He hasnot been here these two days. I shall begin to be jealous of thislittle impertinent Mademoiselle Clairaut. Adieu!
Yours, A. Fermor.
Rivers is absurd. I have a mighty foolish letter from him; he isrambling about the country, buying estates: he had better have beenhere, playing the fool with us; if I knew how to write to him I wouldtell him so, but he is got out of the range of human beings, down theriver, Heaven knows where; he says a thousand civil things to you, butI will bring the letter with me to save the trouble of repeating them.
I have a sort of an idea he won't be very unhappy at this delay; Iwant vastly to send him word of it.
Adieu! _ma chere_.
LETTER 32.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Kamaraskas, Oct. 10.
I am at present, my dear Lucy, in the wildest country on earth; Imean of those which are inhabited at all: 'tis for several leaguesalmost a continual forest, with only a few straggling houses on theriver side; 'tis however of not the least consequence to me, all placesare equal to me where Emily is not.
I seek amusement, but without finding it: she is never one momentfrom my thoughts; I am every hour on the point of returning to Quebec;I cannot support the idea of her leaving the country without my seeingher.
'Tis a lady who has this estate to sell: I am at present at herhouse; she is very amiable; a widow about thirty, with an agreableperson, great vivacity, an excellent understanding, improved byreading, to which the absolute solitude of her situation has obligedher; she has an open pleasing countenance, with a candor and sincerityin her conversation which would please me, if my mind was in a state tobe pleased with any thing. Through all the attention and civility Ithink myself obliged to shew her, she seems to perceive the melancholywhich I cannot shake off: she is always contriving some little partyfor me, as if she knew how much I am in want of amusement.
Oct. 12.
Madame Des Roches is very kind; she sees my chagrin, and takes everymethod to divert it: she insists on my going in her shallop to see thelast settlement on the river, opposite the Isle of Barnaby; she does methe honor to accompany me, with a gentleman and lady who live about amile from her.
Isle Barnaby, Oct. 13.
I have been paying a very singular visit; 'tis to a hermit, who haslived sixty years alone on this island; I came to him with a strongprejudice against him; I have no opinion of those who fly society; whoseek a state of all others the most contrary to our nature. Were I atyrant, and wished to inflict the most cruel punishment human naturecould support, I would seclude criminals from the joys of society, anddeny them the endearing sight of their species.
I am certain I could not exist a year alone: I am miserable even inthat degree of solitude to which one is confined in a ship; no wordscan speak the joy which I felt when I came to America, on the firstappearance of something like the chearful haunts of men; the first man,the first house, nay the first Indian fire of which I saw the smokerise above the trees, gave me the most lively transport that can beconceived; I felt all the force of those ties which unite us to eachother, of that social love to which we owe all our happiness here.
But to my hermit: his appearance disarmed my dislike; he is a tallold man, with white hair and beard, the look of one who has knownbetter days, and the strongest marks of benevolence in his countenance.He received me with the utmost hospitality, spread all his littlestores of fruit before me, fetched me fresh milk, and water from aspring near his house.
After a little conversation, I expressed my astonishment, that a manof whose kindness and humanity I had just had such proof, could findhis happiness in flying mankind: I said a good deal on the subject, towhich he listened with the politest attention.
"You appear," said he, "of a temper to pity the miseries of others.My story is short and simple: I loved the most amiable of women; I wasbeloved. The avarice of our parents, who both had more gainful viewsfor us, prevented an union on which our happiness depended. My Louisa,who was threatened with an immediate marriage with a man she detested,proposed to me to fly the tyranny of our friends: she had an uncle atQuebec, to whom she was dear. The wilds of Canada, said she, may affordus that refuge our cruel country denies us. After a secret marriage,we embarked. Our voyage was thus far happy; I landed on the oppositeshore, to seek refreshments for my Louisa; I was returning, pleasedwith the thought of obliging the object of all my tenderness, when abeginning storm drove me to seek shelter in this bay. The stormencreased, I saw its progress with agonies not to be described; theship, which was in sight, was unable to resist its fury; the sailorscrowded into the boat; they had the humanity to place my Louisa there;they made for the spot where I was, my eyes were wildly fixed on them;I stood eagerly on the utmost verge of the water, my arms stretched outto receive her, my prayers ardently addressed to Heaven, when animmense wave broke over the boat; I heard a general shriek; I evenfancied I distinguished my Louisa's cries; it subsided, the sailorsagain exerted all their force; a second wave--I saw them no more.
"Never will that dreadful scene be absent one moment from my memory:I fell senseless on the beach; when I returned to life, the firstobject I beheld was the breathless body of my Louisa at my feet. Heavengave me the wretched consolation of rendering to her the last sadduties. In that grave all my happiness lies buried. I knelt by her, andbreathed a vow to Heaven, to wait here the moment that should join meto al
l I held dear. I every morning visit her loved remains, andimplore the God of mercy to hasten my dissolution. I feel that we shallnot long be separated; I shall soon meet her, to part no more."
He stopped, and, without seeming to remember he was not alone,walked hastily towards a little oratory he has built on the beach, nearwhich is the grave of his Louisa; I followed him a few steps, I sawhim throw himself on his knees; and, respecting his sorrow, returnedto the house.
Though I cannot absolutely approve, yet I more than forgive, Ialmost admire, his renouncing the world in his situation. Devotion isperhaps the only balm for the wounds given by unhappy love; the heartis too much softened by true tenderness to admit any common cure.
Seven in the evening.
I am returned to Madame Des Roches and her friends, who declinedvisiting the hermit. I found in his conversation all which could haveadorned society; he was pleased with the sympathy I shewed for hissufferings; we parted with regret. I wished to have made him apresent, but he will receive nothing.
A ship for England is in sight. Madame Des Roches is so polite tosend off this letter; we return to her house in the morning.
Adieu! my Lucy. Yours, Ed. Rivers.
LETTER 33.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Quebec, Oct. 12.
I have no patience with this foolish brother of yours; he isrambling about in the woods when we want him here: we have a mostagreeable assembly every Thursday at the General's, and have hadanother ball since he has been gone on this ridiculous ramble; I missthe dear creature wherever I go. We have nothing but balls, cards, andparties of pleasure; but they are nothing without my little Rivers.