ABODES OF HORROR have frequently been described, and
castles, filled with spectres and chimeras, conjured up by the
magic spell of genius to harrow the soul, and absorb the wondering
mind. But, formed of such stuff as dreams are made of,
what were they to the mansion of despair, in one corner of
which Maria sat, endeavouring to recall her scattered
thoughts!
Surprise, astonishment, that bordered on distraction,
seemed to have suspended
her faculties, till, waking by degrees
to a keen sense of anguish, a whirlwind of rage and
indignation roused her torpid pulse. One recollection with
frightful velocity following another, threatened to fire her
brain, and make her a fit companion for the terrific inhabitants,
whose groans and shrieks were no unsubstantial sounds
of whistling winds, or startled birds, modulated by a romantic
fancy, which amuse while they affright; but such tones of
misery as carry a dreadful certainty directly to the heart.
What effect must they then have produced on one, true to the
touch of sympathy, and tortured by maternal apprehension!
Her infant's image was continually floating on Maria's sight,
and the first smile of intelligence remembered, as none but a
mother,
an unhappy mother, can conceive. She heard her half
speaking half cooing, and felt the little twinkling fingers on
her burning bosom — a bosom bursting with the nutriment for
which this cherished child might now be pining in vain. From
a stranger she could indeed receive the maternal aliment,
Maria was grieved at the thought — but who would watch her
with a mother's tenderness, a mother's self-denial?
The retreating shadows of former sorrows rushed back in a
gloomy train, and seemed to be pictured on the walls of her
prison, magnified by the state of mind in which they were
viewed — Still she mourned for her child, lamented she was a
daughter, and anticipated the aggravated ills of life that her
sex rendered almost inevitable, even while dreading she was
no more. To think
that she was blotted out of existence was
agony, when the imagination had been long employed to
expand her faculties; yet to suppose her turned adrift on an
unknown sea, was scarcely less afflicting.
After being two days the prey of impetuous, varying emotions,
Maria began to reflect more calmly on her present situation,
for she had actually been rendered incapable of sober
reflection, by the discovery of the act of atrocity of which she
was the victim. She could not have imagined, that, in all the
fermentation of civilized depravity, a similar plot could have
entered a human mind. She had been stunned by an unexpected
blow; yet life, however joyless, was not to be indolently
resigned, or misery endured without exertion, and proudly
termed patience. She
had hitherto meditated only to point
the dart of anguish, and suppressed the heart heavings of
indignant nature merely by the force of contempt. Now she
endeavoured to brace her mind to fortitude, and to ask herself
what was to be her employment in her dreary cell? Was it not
to effect her escape, to fly to the succour of her child, and to
baffle the selfish schemes of her tyrant — her husband?
These thoughts roused her sleeping spirit, and the self-possession returned, that seemed to have abandoned her in
the infernal solitude into which she had been precipitated.
The first emotions of overwhelming impatience began to subside,
and resentment gave place to tenderness, and more
tranquil meditation; though anger once more stopt the calm
current of reflection
when she attempted to move her manacled
arms. But this was an outrage that could only excite
momentary feelings of scorn, which evaporated in a faint
smile; for Maria was far from thinking a personal insult the
most difficult to endure with magnanimous indifference.
She approached the small grated window of her chamber,
and for a considerable time only regarded the blue expanse;
though it commanded a view of a desolate garden, and of part
of a huge pile of buildings, that, after having been suffered, for
half a century, to fall to decay, had undergone some clumsy
repairs, merely to render it habitable. The ivy had been torn
off the turrets, and the stones not wanted to patch up the
breaches of time, and exclude the warring elements,
left in
heaps in the disordered court. Maria contemplated this scene
she knew not how long; or rather gazed on the walls, and
pondered on her situation. To the master of this most horrid
of prisons, she had, soon after her entrance, raved of injustice,
in accents that would have justified his treatment, had not a
malignant smile, when she appealed to his judgment, with a
dreadful conviction stifled her remonstrating complaints. By
force, or openly, what could be done? But surely some expedient
might occur to an active mind, without any other employment,
and possessed of sufficient resolution to put the risk of
life into the balance with the chance of freedom.
A woman entered in the midst of these reflections, with a
firm, deliberate
step, strongly marked features, and large
black eyes, which she fixed steadily on Maria's, as if she designed
to intimidate her, saying at the same time "You had
better sit down and eat your dinner, than look at the clouds."
"I have no appetite," replied Maria, who had previously
determined to speak mildly; "why then should I eat?"
"But, in spite of that, you must and shall eat something. I
have had many ladies under my care, who have resolved to
starve themselves; but, soon or late, they gave up their intent,
as they recovered their senses."
"Do you really think me mad?" asked Maria, meeting the
searching glance of her eye.
"Not just now. But what does
that prove? — Only that you
must be the more carefully watched, for appearing at times
so reasonable. You have not touched a morsel since you entered
the house." — Maria sighed intelligibly. — "Could any
thing but madness produce such a disgust for food?"
"Yes, grief; you would not ask the question if you knew what
it was." The attendant shook her head; and a ghastly smile of
desperate fortitude served as a forcible reply, and made Maria
pause, before she added — "Yet I will take some refreshment:
I mean not to die. — No; I will preserve my senses; and convince
even you, sooner than you are aware of, that my intellects
have never been disturbed, though the exertion of them
may have been suspended by some infernal drug."
Doubt gathered still thicker on the brow of her guard, as
she attempted to convict her of mistake.
"Have patience!" exclaimed Maria, with a solemnity that
inspired awe. "My God! how have I been schooled into the
practice!" A suffocation of voice betrayed the agonizing emotions
she was labouring to keep down; and conquering a
qualm of disgust, she calmly endeavoured to eat enough to
prove her docility, perpetually turning to the suspicious
female, whose observation she courted, while she was making
the bed and adjusting the room.
"Come to me often," said Maria, with a tone of persuasion,
in consequence of a vague plan that she had hastily adopted,
when, after surveying this woman's form and features, she
felt convinced that she had an understanding above the common
standard, "and believe me mad, till you are obliged to acknowledge
the contrary." The woman was no fool, that is, she
was superior to her class; nor had misery quite petrified the
life's-blood of humanity, to which reflections on our own misfortunes
only give a more orderly course. The manner, rather
than the expostulations, of Maria made a slight suspicion dart
into her mind with corresponding sympathy, which various
other avocations, and the habit of banishing compunction,
prevented her, for the present, from examining more minutely.
But when she was told that no person, excepting the physician
appointed by her family, was to be permitted to see the
lady at the end of the gallery, she
opened her keen eyes still
wider, and uttered a — "hem!" before she enquired — "Why?"
She was briefly told, in reply, that the malady was hereditary,
and the fits not occurring but at very long and irregular intervals,
she must be carefully watched; for the length of these
lucid periods only rendered her more mischievous, when any
vexation or caprice brought on the paroxysm of phrensy.
Had her master trusted her, it is probable that neither pity
nor curiosity would have made her swerve from the straight
line of her interest; for she had suffered too much in her
intercourse with mankind, not to determine to look for support,
rather to humouring their passions, than courting their
approbation by the integrity of her conduct. A deadly blight
had met
her at the very threshold of existence; and the
wretchedness of her mother seemed a heavy weight fastened
on her innocent neck, to drag her down to perdition. She
could not heroically determine to succour an unfortunate;
but, offended at the bare supposition that she could be deceived
with the same ease as a common servant, she no longer
curbed her curiosity; and, though she never seriously fathomed
her own intentions, she would sit, every moment she
could steal from observation, listening to the tale, which
Maria was eager to relate with all the persuasive eloquence of
grief.
It is so cheering to see a human face, even if little of the
divinity of virtue beam in it, that Maria anxiously expected
the return of the attendant, as of a gleam of light to break the
gloom of idleness. Indulged sorrow, she perceived, must blunt
or sharpen the faculties to the two opposite extremes; producing
stupidity, the moping melancholy of indolence; or the
restless activity of a disturbed imagination. She sunk into one
state, after being fatigued by the other: till the want of occupation
became even more painful than the actual pressure or
apprehension of sorrow; and the confinement that froze her
into a nook of existence, with an unvaried prospect before
her, the most insupportable of evils. The lamp of life seemed
to be spending itself to chase the vapours of a dungeon which
no art could dissipate. — And to what purpose did she rally all
her energy? — Was not the world a vast prison, and women
born slaves?
Though she failed immediately to rouse a lively sense of
injustice in the mind of her guard, because it had been sophisticated
into misanthropy, she touched her heart. Jemima (she
had only a claim to a Christian name, which had not procured
her any Christian privileges) could patiently hear of Maria's
confinement on false pretences; she had felt the crushing
hand of power, hardened by the exercise of injustice, and
ceased to wonder at the perversions of the understanding,
which systematize oppression; but, when told that her child,
only four months old, had been torn from her, even while she
was discharging the tenderest maternal office, the woman
awoke in a bosom long estranged from feminine emotions,
and Jemima determined to alleviate all in her power, without
hazarding
the loss of her place, the sufferings of a wretched
mother, apparently injured, and certainly unhappy. A sense
of right seems to result from the simplest act of reason, and
to preside over the faculties of the mind, like the master-sense
of feeling, to rectify the rest; but (for the comparison may be
carried still farther) how often is the exquisite sensibility of
both weakened or destroyed by the vulgar occupations, and
ignoble pleasures of life?
The preserving her situation was, indeed, an important object
to Jemima, who had been hunted from hole to hole, as if
she had been a beast of prey, or infected with a moral plague.
The wages she received, the greater part of which she
hoarded, as her only chance for independence, were much
more considerable than she could reckon on obtaining any
where else, were it possible that she, an outcast from society,
could be permitted to earn a subsistence in a reputable family.
Hearing Maria perpetually complain of listlessness, and the
not being able to beguile grief by resuming her customary
pursuits, she was easily prevailed on, by compassion, and that
involuntary respect for abilities, which those who possess
them can never eradicate, to bring her some books and implements
for writing. Maria's conversation had amused and interested
her, and the natural consequence was a desire,
scarcely observed by herself, of obtaining the esteem of a
person she admired. The remembrance of better days was
rendered more lively; and the sentiments then acquired appearing
less romantic
than they had for a long period, a spark
of hope roused her mind to new activity.
How grateful was her attention to Maria! Oppressed by a
dead weight of existence, or preyed on by the gnawing worm
of discontent, with what eagerness did she endeavour to
shorten the long days, which left no traces behind! She
seemed to be sailing on the vast ocean of life, without seeing
any land-mark to indicate the progress of time; to find employment
was then to find variety, the animating principle of
nature.
EARNESTLY as Maria endeavoured to soothe, by reading, the
anguish of her wounded mind, her thoughts would often
wander from the subject she was led to discuss, and tears of
maternal tenderness obscured the reasoning page. She descanted
on "the ills which flesh is heir to," with bitterness,
when the recollection of her babe was revived by a tale of
fictitious woe, that bore any resemblance to her own; and her
imagination was continually employed, to conjure up and embody
the various phantoms of misery, which folly and vice had
let loose on the world. The loss of her babe was the tender
string; against other cruel remembrances she laboured to
steel her bosom; and even a ray of hope, in the midst of her
gloomy reveries, would sometimes gleam on the dark horizon
of futurity, while persuading herself that she ought to cease
to hope, since happiness was no where to be found. — But of
her child, debilitated by the grief with which its mother had
been assailed before it saw the light, she could not think without
an impatient struggle.
"I, alone, by my active tenderness, could have saved," she
would exclaim, "from an early blight, this sweet blossom; and,
cherishing it, I should have had something still to love."
In proportion as other expectations were torn from her, this
tender one had been fondly clung to, and knit into her heart.
The books she had obtained, were
soon devoured, by one
who had no other resource to escape from sorrow, and the
feverish dreams of ideal wretchedness or felicity, which
equally weaken the intoxicated sensibility. Writing was then
the only alternative, and she wrote some rhapsodies descriptive
of the state of her mind; but the events of her past life
pressing on her, she resolved circumstantially to relate them,
with the sentiments that experience, and more matured reason,
would naturally suggest. They might perhaps instruct her
daughter, and shield her from the misery, the tyranny, her
mother knew not how to avoid.
This thought gave life to her diction, her soul flowed into it,
and she soon found the task of recollecting almost obliterated
impressions very interesting. She lived again in the revived
emotions
of youth, and forgot her present in the retrospect of
sorrows that had assumed an unalterable character.
Though this employment lightened the weight of time, yet,
never losing sight of her main object, Maria did not allow any
opportunity to slip of winning on the affections of Jemima; for
she discovered in her a strength of mind, that excited her
esteem, clouded as it was by the misanthropy of despair.
An insulated being, from the misfortune of her birth, she
despised and preyed on the society by which she had been
oppressed, and loved not her fellow-creatures, because she
had never been beloved. No mother had ever fondled her, no
father or brother had protected her from outrage; and the
man who had plunged her into infamy,
and deserted her
when she stood in greatest need of support, deigned not to
smooth with kindness the road to ruin. Thus degraded, was
she let loose on the world; and virtue, never nurtured by
affection, assumed the stern aspect of selfish independence.
This general view of her life, Maria gathered from her exclamations
and dry remarks. Jemima indeed displayed a
strange mixture of interest and suspicion; for she would listen
to her with earnestness, and then suddenly interrupt the conversation,
as if afraid of resigning, by giving way to her sympathy,
her dear-bought knowledge of the world.
Maria alluded to the possibility of an escape, and mentioned
a compensation, or reward; but the style in which she was
repulsed made her cautious, and
determine not to renew the
subject, till she knew more of the character she had to work
on. Jemima's countenance, and dark hints, seemed to say,
"You are an extraordinary woman; but let me consider, this
may only be one of your lucid intervals." Nay, the very energy
of Maria's character, made her suspect that the extraordinary
animation she perceived might be the effect of madness.
"Should her husband then substantiate his charge, and get
possession of her estate, from whence would come the promised
annuity, or more desired protection? Besides, might not
a woman, anxious to escape, conceal some of the circumstances
which made against her? Was truth to be expected
from one who had been entrapped, kidnapped, in the most
fraudulent manner?"
In this train Jemima continued to argue, the moment after
compassion and respect seemed to make her swerve; and she
still resolved not to be wrought on to do more than soften the
rigour of confinement, till she could advance on surer ground.
Maria was not permitted to walk in the garden; but sometimes,
from her window, she turned her eyes from the gloomy
walls, in which she pined life away, on the poor wretches who
strayed along the walks, and contemplated the most terrific of
ruins — that of a human soul. What is the view of the fallen
column, the mouldering arch, of the most exquisite workmanship,
when compared with this living memento of the
fragility, the instability, of reason, and the wild luxuriancy of
noxious passions? Enthusiasm turned adrift,
like some rich
stream overflowing its banks, rushes forward with destructive
velocity, inspiring a sublime concentration of thought. Thus
thought Maria — These are the ravages over which humanity
must ever mournfully ponder, with a degree of anguish not
excited by crumbling marble, or cankering brass, unfaithful to
the trust of monumental fame. It is not over the decaying
productions of the mind, embodied with the happiest art, we
grieve most bitterly. The view of what has been done by man,
produces a melancholy, yet aggrandizing, sense of what remains
to be achieved by human intellect; but a mental convulsion,
which, like the devastation of an earthquake, throws all
the elements of thought and imagination into confusion,
makes contemplation
giddy, and we fearfully ask on what
ground we ourselves stand.
Melancholy and imbecility marked the features of the
wretches allowed to breathe at large; for the frantic, those
who in a strong imagination had lost a sense of woe, were
closely confined. The playful tricks and mischievous devices
of their disturbed fancy, that suddenly broke out, could not be
guarded against, when they were permitted to enjoy any portion
of freedom; for, so active was their imagination, that
every new object which accidentally struck their senses,
awoke to phrenzy their restless passions; as Maria learned
from the burden of their incessant ravings.
Sometimes, with a strict injunction of silence, Jemima
would allow Maria,
at the close of evening, to stray along the
narrow avenues that separated the dungeon-like apartments,
leaning on her arm. What a change of scene! Maria wished to
pass the threshold of her prison, yet, when by chance she met
the eye of rage glaring on her, yet unfaithful to its office, she
shrunk back with more horror and affright, than if she had
stumbled over a mangled corpse. Her busy fancy pictured the
misery of a fond heart, watching over a friend thus estranged,
absent, though present — over a poor wretch lost to reason and
the social joys of existence; and losing all consciousness of
misery in its excess. What a task, to watch the light of reason
quivering in the eye, or with agonizing expectation to catch
the beam of recollection; tantalized by hope, only to feel
despair more keenly, at finding a
much loved face or voice,
suddenly remembered, or pathetically implored, only to be
immediately forgotten, or viewed with indifference or abhorrence!
The heart-rending sigh of melancholy sunk into her soul;
and when she retired to rest, the petrified figures she had
encountered, the only human forms she was doomed to observe,
haunting her dreams with tales of mysterious wrongs,
made her wish to sleep to dream no more.
Day after day rolled away, and tedious as the present moment
appeared, they passed in such an unvaried tenor, Maria
was surprised to find that she had already been six weeks
buried alive, and yet had such faint hopes of effecting her
enlargement. She was, earnestly as she had sought for employment,
now angry with herself for having been amused by
writing her narrative; and grieved to think that she had for an
instant thought of any thing, but contriving to escape.
Jemima had evidently pleasure in her society: still, though
she often left her with a glow of kindness, she returned with
the same chilling air; and, when her heart appeared for a
moment to open, some suggestion of reason forcibly closed it,
before she could give utterance to the confidence Maria's
conversation inspired.
Discouraged by these changes, Maria relapsed into despondency,
when she was cheered by the alacrity with which
Jemima brought her a fresh parcel of books; assuring her, that
she had taken some pains to obtain them from one of the
keepers, who attended a gentleman
confined in the opposite
corner of the gallery.
Maria took up the books with emotion. "They come," said
she, "perhaps, from a wretch condemned, like me, to reason
on the nature of madness, by having wrecked minds continually
under his eye; and almost to wish himself — as I do — mad,
to escape from the contemplation of it." Her heart throbbed
with sympathetic alarm; and she turned over the leaves with
awe, as if they had become sacred from passing through the
hands of an unfortunate being, oppressed by a similar fate.
Dryden's Fables, Milton's Paradise Lost, with several modern productions, composed the collection.
It was a mine of
treasure. Some marginal notes, in Dryden's Fables, caught
her attention: they were written with force
and taste; and, in
one of the modern pamphlets, there was a fragment left,
containing various observations on the present state of society
and government, with a comparative view of the politics of
Europe and America. These remarks were written with a
degree of generous warmth, when alluding to the enslaved
state of the labouring majority, perfectly in unison with Maria's
mode of thinking.
She read them over and over again; and fancy, treacherous
fancy, began to sketch a character, congenial with her own,
from these shadowy outlines. — "Was he mad?" She reperused
the marginal notes, and they seemed the production
of an animated, but not of a disturbed imagination. Confined
to this speculation, every time she re-read them, some fresh
refinement of
sentiment, or accuteness of thought impressed
her, which she was astonished at herself for not having before
observed.
What a creative power has an affectionate heart! There are
beings who cannot live without loving, as poets love; and who
feel the electric spark of genius, wherever it awakens sentiment
or grace. Maria had often thought, when disciplining
her wayward heart, "that to charm, was to be virtuous."
"They who make me wish to appear the most amiable and
good in their eyes, must possess in a degree," she would exclaim,
"the graces and virtues they call into action."
She took up a book on the powers of the human mind; but,
her attention strayed from cold arguments on the nature of
what she felt, while she was
feeling, and she snapt the chain
of the theory to read Dryden's Guiscard and Sigismunda.
Maria, in the course of the ensuing day, returned some of
the books, with the hope of getting others — and more marginal
notes. Thus shut out from human intercourse, and compelled
to view nothing but the prison of vexed spirits, to meet
a wretch in the same situation, was more surely to find a
friend, than to imagine a countryman one, in a strange land,
where the human voice conveys no information to the eager
ear.
"Did you ever see the unfortunate being to whom these
books belong?" asked Maria, when Jemima brought her slipper.
"Yes. He sometimes walks out, between five and six,
before the family is stirring, in the morning,
with two keepers;
but even then his hands are confined."
"What! is he so unruly?" enquired Maria, with an accent of
disappointment.
"No, not that I perceive," replied Jemima; "but he has an
untamed look, a vehemence of eye, that excites apprehension.
Were his hands free, he looks as if he could soon manage both
his guards: yet he appears tranquil."
"If he be so strong, he must be young," observed Maria.
"Three or four and thirty, I suppose; but there is no judging
of a person in his situation."
"Are you sure that he is mad?" interrupted Maria with
eagerness. Jemima quitted the room, without replying.
"No, no, he certainly is not!" exclaimed Maria, answering
herself; "the man who could write those observations was not
disordered in his intellects."
She sat musing, gazing at the moon, and watching its motion
as it seemed to glide under the clouds. Then, preparing
for bed, she thought, "Of what use could I be to him, or he
to me, if it be true that he is unjustly confined? — Could he aid
me to escape, who is himself more closely watched? — Still I
should like to see him." She went to bed, dreamed of her
child, yet woke exactly at half after five o'clock, and starting
up, only wrapped a gown around her, and ran to the window.
The morning was chill, it was the latter end of September; yet
she did not retire to warm herself and
think in bed, till the
sound of the servants, moving about the house, convinced her
that the unknown would not walk in the garden that morning.
She was ashamed at feeling disappointed; and began to reflect,
as an excuse to herself, on the little objects which attract
attention when there is nothing to divert the mind; and how
difficult it was for women to avoid growing romantic, who
have no active duties or pursuits.
At breakfast, Jemima enquired whether she understood
French? for, unless she did, the stranger's stock of books was
exhausted. Maria replied in the affirmative; but forbore to ask
any more questions respecting the person to whom they belonged.
And Jemima gave her a new subject for contemplation,
by describing the person
of a lovely maniac, just brought
into an adjoining chamber. She was singing the pathetic ballad
of old Rob* with the most heart-melting falls and pauses.
Jemima had half-opened the door, when she distinguished her
voice, and Maria stood close to it, scarcely daring to respire,
lest a modulation should escape her, so exquisitely sweet, so
passionately wild. She began with sympathy to pourtray to
herself another victim, when the lovely warbler flew, as it
were, from the spray, and a torrent of unconnected exclamations
and questions burst from her, interrupted by fits of
laughter, so horrid, that Maria shut the door, and, turning her
eyes up to heaven, exclaimed — "Gracious God!"
Several minutes elapsed before Maria could enquire respecting
the rumour
of the house (for this poor wretch was
obviously not confined without a cause); and then Jemima
could only tell her, that it was said, "she had been married,
against her inclination, to a rich old man, extremely jealous
(no wonder, for she was a charming creature); and that, in
consequence of his treatment, or something which hung on
her mind, she had, during her first lying-in, lost her senses."
What a subject of meditation — even to the very confines of
madness.
"Woman, fragile flower! why were you suffered to adorn a
world exposed to the inroad of such stormy elements?"
thought Maria, while the poor maniac's strain was still breathing
on her ear, and sinking into her very soul.
Towards the evening, Jemima brought her Rousseau's
Heloise; and she sat reading with eyes and heart, till the return
of her guard to extinguish the light. One instance of her
kindness was, the permitting Maria to have one, till her own
hour of retiring to rest. She had read this work long since; but
now it seemed to open a new world to her — the only one
worth inhabiting. Sleep was not to be wooed; yet, far from
being fatigued by the restless rotation of thought, she rose and
opened her window, just as the thin watery clouds of twilight
made the long silent shadows visible. The air swept across her
face with a voluptuous freshness that thrilled to her heart,
awakening indefinable emotions; and the sound of a waving
branch, or the twittering of a startled
bird, alone broke the
stillness of reposing nature. Absorbed by the sublime sensibility
which renders the consciousness of existence felicity,
Maria was happy, till an autumnal scent, wafted by the breeze
of morn from the fallen leaves of the adjacent wood, made her
recollect that the season had changed since her confinement;
yet life afforded no variety to solace an afflicted heart. She
returned dispirited to her couch, and thought of her child till
the broad glare of day again invited her to the window. She
looked not for the unknown, still how great was her vexation
at perceiving the back of a man, certainly he, with his two
attendants, as he turned into a side-path which led to the
house! A confused recollection of having seen somebody who
resembled him, immediately
occurred, to puzzle and torment
her with endless conjectures. Five minutes sooner, and she
should have seen his face, and been out of suspense — was ever
any thing so unlucky! His steady, bold step, and the whole air
of his person, bursting as it were from a cloud, pleased her,
and gave an outline to the imagination to sketch the individual
form she wished to recognize.
Feeling the disappointment more severely than she was
willing to believe, she flew to Rousseau, as her only refuge
from the idea of him, who might prove a friend, could she but
find a way to interest him in her fate; still the personification
of Saint Preux, or of an ideal lover far superior, was after this
imperfect model, of which merely a glance had been caught,
even to the minutiae of the coat and hat of the stranger. But
if she lent St. Preux, or the demi-god of her fancy, his form,
she richly repaid him by the donation of all St. Preux's sentiments
and feelings, culled to gratify her own, to which he
seemed to have an undoubted right, when she read on the
margin of an impassioned letter, written in the well-known
hand — "Rousseau alone, the true Prometheus of sentiment,
possessed the fire of genius necessary to pourtray the passion,
the truth of which goes so directly to the heart."
Maria was again true to the hour, yet had finished Rousseau,
and begun to transcribe some selected passages; unable to
quit either the author or the window, before she had a
glimpse of the countenance she daily longed to see;
and, when
seen, it conveyed no distinct idea to her mind where she had
seen it before. He must have been a transient acquaintance;
but to discover an acquaintance was fortunate, could she contrive
to attract his attention, and excite his sympathy.
Every glance afforded colouring for the picture she was
delineating on her heart; and once, when the window was half
open, the sound of his voice reached her. Conviction flashed
on her; she had certainly, in a moment of distress, heard the
same accents. They were manly, and characteristic of a noble
mind; nay, even sweet — or sweet they seemed to her attentive
ear.
She started back, trembling, alarmed at the emotion a
strange coincidence of circumstances inspired, and wondering
why she thought so much of a stranger, obliged as she had
been by his timely interference; [for she recollected, by degrees
all the circumstances of their former meeting.] She
found however that she could think of nothing else; or, if she
thought of her daughter, it was to wish that she had a father
whom her mother could respect and love.
WHEN PERUSING the first parcel of books, Maria had, with her
pencil, written in one of them a few exclamations, expressive
of compassion and sympathy, which she scarcely remembered,
till turning over the leaves of one of the volumes, lately
brought to her, a slip of paper dropped out, which Jemima
hastily snatched up.
"Let me see it," demanded Maria impatiently, "You surely
are not afraid of trusting me with the effusions of a madman?"
"I must consider," replied Jemima; and withdrew, with the
paper in her hand.
In a life of such seclusion, the passions gain undue force;
Maria therefore felt a great degree of resentment and
vexation,
which she had not time to subdue, before Jemima, returning,
delivered the paper.
"Whoever you are, who partake of my fate, accept my sincere commiseration — I would have said
protection; but the
privilege of man is denied me.
"My own situation forces a dreadful suspicion on my mind
— I may not always languish in vain for freedom — say are you
— I cannot ask the question; yet I will remember you when my
remembrance can be of any use. I will enquire, why you are
so mysteriously detained — and I will have an answer.
"HENRY DARNFORD."
By the most pressing intreaties, Maria prevailed on Jemima
to permit her to write a reply to this note. Another and
another
succeeded, in which explanations were not allowed
relative to their present situation; but Maria, with sufficient
explicitness, alluded to a former obligation; and they insensibly
entered on an interchange of sentiments on the most
important subjects. To write these letters was the business of
the day, and to receive them the moment of sunshine. By
some means, Darnford having discovered Maria's window,
when she next appeared at it, he made her, behind his keepers,
a profound bow of respect and recognition.
Two or three weeks glided away in this kind of intercourse,
during which period Jemima, to whom Maria had given the
necessary information respecting her family, had evidently
gained some intelligence, which increased her
desire of pleasing
her charge, though she could not yet determine to liberate
her. Maria took advantage of this favourable charge, without
too minutely enquiring into the cause; and such was her eagerness
to hold human converse, and to see her former protector,
still a stranger to her, that she incessantly requested
her guard to gratify her more than curiosity.
Writing to Darnford, she was led from the sad objects
before her, and frequently rendered insensible to the horrid
noises around her, which previously had continually employed
her feverish fancy. Thinking it selfish to dwell on her
own sufferings, when in the midst of wretches, who had not
only lost all that endears life, but their very selves, her imagination
was occupied
with melancholy earnestness to trace the
mazes of misery, through which so many wretches must have
passed to this gloomy receptacle of disjointed souls, to the
grand source of human corruption. Often at midnight was she
waked by the dismal shrieks of demoniac rage, or of excruciating
despair, uttered in such wild tones of indescribable anguish
as proved the total absence of reason, and roused phantoms
of horror in her mind, far more terrific than all that
dreaming superstition ever drew. Besides, there was frequently
something so inconceivably picturesque in the varying
gestures of unrestrained passion, so irresistibly comic in
their sallies, or so heart-piercingly pathetic in the little airs
they would sing, frequently bursting out after an awful silence,
as to fascinate the attention,
and amuse the fancy, while
torturing the soul. It was the uproar of the passions which she
was compelled to observe; and to mark the lucid beam of
reason, like a light trembling in a socket, or like the flash
which divides the threatening clouds of angry heaven only to
display the horrors which darkness shrouded.
Jemima would labour to beguile the tedious evenings, by
describing the persons and manners of the unfortunate beings,
whose figures or voices awoke sympathetic sorrow in
Maria's bosom; and the stories she told were the more interesting,
for perpetually leaving room to conjecture something
extraordinary. Still Maria, accustomed to generalize her observations,
was led to conclude from all she heard, that it was
a vulgar error to suppose
that people of abilities were the most
apt to lose the command of reason. On the contrary, from
most of the instances she could investigate, she thought it
resulted, that the passions only appeared strong and disproportioned,
because the judgment was weak and unexercised;
and that they gained strength by the decay of reason, as the
shadows lengthen during the sun's decline.
Maria impatiently wished to see her fellow-sufferer; but
Darnford was still more earnest to obtain an interview. Accustomed
to submit to every impulse of passion, and never
taught, like women, to restrain the most natural, and acquire,
instead of the bewitching frankness of nature, a factitious
propriety of behaviour, every desire became a torrent that
bore down all opposition.
His travelling trunk, which contained the books lent to
Maria, had been sent to him, and with a part of its contents
he bribed his principal keeper; who, after receiving the most
solemn promise that he would return to his apartment without
attempting to explore any part of the house, conducted
him, in the dusk of the evening, to Maria's room.
Jemima had apprized her charge of the visit, and she expected
with trembling impatience, inspired by a vague hope
that he might again prove her deliverer, to see a man who had
before rescued her from oppression. He entered with an animation
of countenance, formed to captivate an enthusiast;
and, hastily turned his eyes from her to the apartment, which
he surveyed with apparent emotions of compassionate
indignation.
Sympathy illuminated his eye, and, taking her hand,
he respectfully bowed on it, exclaiming — "This is extraordinary!
— again to meet you, and in such circumstances!" Still,
impressive as was the coincidence of events which brought
them once more together, their full hearts did not
overflow. —*
[And though, after this first visit, they were permitted frequently
to repeat their interviews, they were for some time
employed in] a reserved conversation, to which all the world
might have listened; excepting, when discussing some literary
subject, flashes of sentiment, inforced by each relaxing feature,
seemed to remind them that their minds were already
acquainted.
[By degrees, Darnford entered into the particulars of his
story.] In a few words, he informed her that he had been a
thoughtless, extravagant young man; yet, as he described his
faults, they appeared to be the generous luxuriancy of a noble
mind. Nothing like meanness tarnished the lustre of his youth,
nor had the worm of selfishness lurked in the unfolding bud,
even while he had been the dupe of others. Yet he tardily
acquired the experience necessary to guard him against future
imposition.
"I shall weary you," continued he, "by my egotism; and did
not powerful
emotions draw me to you," — his eyes glistened
as he spoke, and a trembling seemed to run through his manly
frame, — "I would not waste these precious moments in talking
of myself.
"My father and mother were people of fashion; married by
their parents. He was fond of the turf, she of the card-table.
I, and two or three other children since dead, were kept at
home till we became intolerable. My father and mother had
a visible dislike to each other, continually displayed; the
servants were of the depraved kind usually found in the houses
of people of fortune. My brothers and parents all dying, I was
left to the care of guardians; and sent to Eton. I never knew
the sweets of domestic affection, but I felt the want of indulgence and frivolous respect at school. I will
not disgust
you
with a recital of the vices of my youth, which can scarcely be
comprehended by female delicacy. I was taught to love by a
creature I am ashamed to mention; and the other women with
whom I afterwards became intimate, were of a class of which
you can have no knowledge. I formed my acquaintance with
them at the theaters; and, when vivacity danced in their eyes,
I was not easily disgusted by the vulgarity which flowed from
their lips. Having spent, a few years after I was of age, [the
whole of] a considerable patrimony, excepting a few hundreds,
I had no resource but to purchase a commission in a
new-raised regiment, destined to subjugate America. The regret
I felt to renounce a life of pleasure, was counter-balanced
by the curiosity I had to see
America, or rather to travel; [nor
had any of those circumstances occurred to my youth, which
might have been calculated] to bind my country to my heart.
I shall not trouble you with the details of a military life. My
blood was still kept in motion; till, towards the close of the
contest, I was wounded and taken prisoner.
"Confined to my bed, or chair, by a lingering cure, my only
refuge from the preying activity of my mind, was books,
which I read with great avidity, profiting by the conversation
of my host, a man of sound understanding. My political sentiments
now underwent a total change; and, dazzled by the
hospitality of the Americans, I determined to take up my
abode with freedom. I, therefore, with my usual impetuosity,
sold my commission, and
travelled into the interior parts of
the country, to lay out my money to advantage. Added to this,
I did not much like the puritanical manners of the large
towns. Inequality of condition was there most disgustingly
galling. The only pleasure wealth afforded, was to make an
ostentatious display of it; for the cultivation of the fine arts, or
literature, had not introduced into the first circles that polish
of manners which renders the rich so essentially superior to
the poor in Europe. Added to this, an influx of vices had been
let in by the Revolution, and the most rigid principles of
religion shaken to the centre, before the understanding could
be gradually emancipated from the prejudices which led their
ancestors undauntedly to seek an inhospitable clime and unbroken
soil. The resolution,
that led them, in pursuit of independence,
to embark on rivers like seas, to search for unknown
shores, and to sleep under the hovering mists of
endless forests, whose baleful damps agued their limbs, was
now turned into commercial speculations, till the national
character exhibited a phenomenon in the history of the human
mind — a head enthusiastically enterprising, with cold
selfishness of heart. And woman, lovely woman! — they charm
everywhere — still there is a degree of prudery, and a want of
taste and ease in the manners of the American women, that
renders them, in spite of their roses and lilies, far inferior to
our European charmers. In the country, they have often a
bewitching simplicity of character; but, in the cities, they
have all the airs and ignorance of the ladies who
give the tone
to the circles of the large trading towns in England. They are
fond of their ornaments, merely because they are good, and
not because they embellish their persons; and are more gratified
to inspire the women with jealousy of these exterior
advantages, than the men with love. All the frivolity which
often (excuse me, Madam) renders the society of modest
women so stupid in England, here seemed to throw still more
leaden fetters on their charms. Not being an adept in gallantry,
I found that I could only keep myself awake in their
company by making downright love to them.
"But, not to intrude on your patience, I retired to the track
of land which I had purchased in the country, and my time
passed pleasantly enough
while I cut down the trees, built my
house, and planted my different crops. But winter and idleness
came, and I longed for more elegant society, to hear what
was passing in the world, and to do something better than
vegetate with the animals that made a very considerable part
of my household. Consequently, I determined to travel. Motion
was a substitute for variety of objects; and, passing over
immense tracks of country, I exhausted my exuberant spirits,
without obtaining much experience. I every where saw industry
the fore-runner and not the consequence, of luxury; but
this country, everything being on an ample scale, did not
afford those picturesque views, which a certain degree of
cultivation is necessary gradually to produce. The eye wandered
without an object to fix upon over immeasureable
plains, and lakes that seemed replenished by the ocean, whilst
eternal forests of small clustering trees, obstructed the circulation
of air, and embarrassed the path, without gratifying the
eye of taste. No cottage smiling in the waste, no travellers
hailed us, to give life to silent nature; or, if perchance we saw
the print of a footstep in our path, it was a dreadful warning
to turn aside; and the head ached as if assailed by the scalping
knife. The Indians who hovered on the skirts of the European
settlements had only learned of their neighbours to plunder,
and they stole their guns from them to do it with more safety.
"From the woods and back settlements, I returned to the
towns, and learned to eat and drink most valiantly; but without
entering into commerce
(and I detested commerce) I
found I could not live there; and, growing heartily weary of
the land of liberty and vulgar aristocracy, seated on her bags
of dollars, I resolved once more to visit Europe. I wrote to a
distant relation in England, with whom I had been educated,
mentioning the vessel in which I intended to sail. Arriving in
London, my senses were intoxicated. I ran from street to
street, from theater to theater, and the women of the town
(again I must beg pardon for my habitual frankness) appeared
to me like angels.
"A week was spent in this thoughtless manner, when, returning
very late to the hotel in which I had lodged ever since
my arrival, I was knocked down in a private street, and hurried,
in a state of insensibility, into a coach, which
brought me
hither, and I only recovered my senses to be treated like one
who had lost them. My keepers are deaf to my remonstrances
and enquiries, yet assure me that my confinement shall not
last long. Still I cannot guess, though I weary myself with
conjectures, why I am confined, or in what part of England
this house is situated. I imagine sometimes that I hear the sea
roar, and wished myself again on the Atlantic, till I had a
glimpse of you."*
A few moments were only allowed to Maria to comment on
this narrative,
when Darnford left her to her own thoughts,
to the "never ending, still beginning," task of weighing his
words, recollecting his tones of voice, and feeling them reverberate
on her heart.
PITY, and the forlorn seriousness of adversity, have both been
considered as dispositions favourable to love, while satirical
writers have attributed the propensity to the relaxing effect
of idleness; what chance then had Maria of escaping, when
pity, sorrow, and solitude all conspired to soften her mind, and
nourish romantic wishes, and, from a natural progress, romantic
expectations?
Maria was six-and-twenty. But, such was the native soundness
of her constitution, that time had only given to her countenance
the character of her mind. Revolving thought, and
exercised affections had banished some of
the playful graces
of innocence, producing insensibly that irregularity of features
which the struggles of the understanding to trace or
govern the strong emotions of the heart, are wont to imprint
on the yielding mass. Grief and care had mellowed, without
obscuring, the bright tints of youth, and the thoughtfulness
which resided on her brow did not take from the feminine
softness of her features; nay, such was the sensibility which
often mantled over it, that she frequently appeared, like a
large proportion of her sex, only born to feel; and the activity
of her well-proportioned, and even almost voluptuous figure,
inspired the idea of strength of mind, rather than of body.
There was a simplicity sometimes indeed in her manner,
which bordered on infantine ingenuousness, that led people
of common discernment to underrate her talents, and smile
at the flights of her imagination. But those who could not
comprehend the delicacy of her sentiments, were attached by
her unfailing sympathy, so that she was very generally
beloved by characters of very different descriptions; still, she
was too much under the influence of an ardent imagination
to adhere to common rules.
There are mistakes of conduct which at five-and-twenty
prove the strength of the mind, that, ten or fifteen years after,
would demonstrate its weakness, its incapacity to acquire a
sane judgment. The youths who are satisfied with the ordinary
pleasures of life, and do not sigh after ideal phantoms of love
and friendship, will never arrive at great maturity of understanding;
but if these reveries are cherished, as is too frequently
the case with women, when experience ought to have
taught them in what human happiness consists, they become
as useless as they are wretched. Besides, their pains and pleasures
are so dependent on outward circumstances, on the
objects of their affections, that they seldom act from the impulse
of a nerved mind, able to choose its own pursuit.
Having had to struggle incessantly with the vices of mankind,
Maria's imagination found repose in pourtraying the
possible virtues the world might contain. Pygmalion formed
an ivory maid, and longed for an informing soul. She, on the
contrary, combined all the qualities of a hero's mind, and fate
presented a statue in which she might enshrine them.
We mean not to trace the progress of this passion, or recount
how often
Darnford and Maria were obliged to part in
the midst of an interesting conversation. Jemima ever
watched on the tip-toe of fear, and frequently separated them
on a false alarm, when they would have given worlds to remain
main a little longer together.
A magic lamp now seemed to be suspended in Maria's
prison, and fairy landscapes flitted round the gloomy walls,
late so blank. Rushing from the depth of despair, on the seraph
wing of hope, she found herself happy. — She was beloved,
and every emotion was rapturous.
To Darnford she had not shown a decided affection; the fear
of outrunning his, a sure proof of love, made her often assume
a coldness and indifference foreign from her character; and,
even when giving way to the playful emotions of a
heart just
loosened from the frozen bond of grief, there was a delicacy
in her manner of expressing her sensibility, which made him
doubt whether it was the effect of love.
One evening, when Jemima left them, to listen to the sound
of a distant footstep, which seemed cautiously to approach, he
seized Maria's hand — it was not withdrawn. They conversed
with earnestness of their situation; and, during the conversation,
he once or twice gently drew her towards him. He felt
the fragrance of her breath, and longed, yet feared, to touch
the lips from which it issued; spirits of purity seemed to guard
them, while all the enchanting graces of love sported on her
cheeks, and languished in her eyes.
Jemima entering, he reflected on his diffidence with poignant
regret, and,
she once more taking alarm, he ventured, as
Maria stood near his chair, to approach her lips with a declaration
of love. She drew back with solemnity, he hung down his
head abashed; but lifting his eyes timidly, they met her's; she
had determined, during that instant, and suffered their rays
to mingle. He took, with more ardour, reassured, a half-consenting,
half-reluctant kiss, reluctant only from modesty; and
there was a sacredness in her dignified manner of reclining
her glowing face on his shoulder, that powerfully impressed
him. Desire was lost in more ineffable emotions, and to protect
her from insult and sorrow — to make her happy, seemed
not only the first wish of his heart, but the most noble duty of
his life. Such angelic confidence demanded the fidelity of
honour; but could he, feeling
her in every pulsation, could he
ever change, could he be a villain? The emotion with which
she, for a moment, allowed herself to be pressed to his bosom,
the tear of rapturous sympathy, mingled with a soft melancholy
sentiment of recollected disappointment, said — more of
truth and faithfulness, than the tongue could have given utterance
to in hours! They were silent — yet discoursed, how
eloquently? till, after a moment's reflection, Maria drew her
chair by the side of his, and, with a composed sweetness of
voice, and supernatural benignity of countenance, said, "I
must open my whole heart to you; you must be told who I am,
why I am here, and why, telling you I am a wife, I blush not
to" — the blush spoke the rest.
Jemima was again at her elbow, and
the restraint of her
presence did not prevent an animated conversation, in which
love, sly urchin, was ever at bo-peep.
So much of heaven did they enjoy, that paradise bloomed
around them; or they, by a powerful spell, had been transported
into Armida's garden. Love, the grand enchanter,
"lapt them in Elysium," and every sense was harmonized to
joy and social extacy. So animated, indeed, were their accents
of tenderness, in discussing what, in other circumstances,
would have been commonplace subjects, that Jemima felt,
with surprise, a tear of pleasure trickling down her rugged
cheeks. She wiped it away, half ashamed; and when Maria
kindly enquired the cause, with all the eager solicitude of a
happy being wishing to impart to all nature its
overflowing
felicity, Jemima owned that it was the first tear that social
enjoyment had ever drawn from her. She seemed indeed to
breathe more freely; the cloud of suspicion cleared away from
her brow; she felt herself, for once in her life, treated like a
fellow-creature.
Imagination! who can paint thy power; or reflect the
evanescent tints of hope fostered by thee? A despondent
gloom had long obscured Maria's horizon — now the sun broke
forth, the rainbow appeared, and every prospect was fair.
Horror still reigned in the darkened cells, suspicion lurked in
the passages, and whispered along the walls. The yells of men
possessed, sometimes, made them pause, and wonder that
they felt so happy, in a tomb of living death. They even chid
themselves
for such apparent insensibility; still the world contained
not three happier beings. And Jemima, after again
patrolling the passage, was so softened by the air of confidence
which breathed around her, that she voluntarily began
an account of herself.
"MY FATHER," said Jemima, "seduced my mother, a pretty
girl, with whom he lived fellow-servant; and she no sooner
perceived the natural, the dreaded consequence, than the
terrible conviction flashed on her — that she was ruined.
Honesty, and a regard for her reputation, had been the only
principles inculcated by her mother; and they had been so
forcibly impressed, that she feared shame, more than the
poverty to which it would lead. Her incessant importunities
to prevail upon my father to screen her from reproach by
marrying her, as he had promised in the fervour of seduction,
estranged him from her so completely, that her very person
became distasteful to him; and he began to hate, as well as
despise me, before I was born.
"My mother, grieved to the soul by his neglect, and unkind
treatment, actually resolved to famish herself; and injured her
health by the attempt; though she had not sufficient resolution
to adhere to her project, or renounce it entirely. Death came
not at her call; yet sorrow, and the methods she adopted to
conceal her condition, still doing the work of a house-maid,
had such an effect on her constitution, that she died in the
wretched garret, where her virtuous mistress had forced her
to take refuge in the very pangs of labour, though my father,
after a slight reproof, was allowed to remain in his place —
allowed by the mother of six children, who, scarcely permitting
a footstep to
be heard, during her month's indulgence,
felt no sympathy for the poor wretch, denied every comfort
required by her situation.
"The day my mother, died, the ninth after my birth, I was
consigned to the care of the cheapest nurse my father could
find; who suckled her own child at the same time, and lodged
as many more as she could get, in two cellar-like apartments.
"Poverty, and the habit of seeing children die off her hands,
had so hardened her heart, that the office of a mother did not
awaken the tenderness of a woman; nor were the feminine
caresses which seem a part of the rearing of a child, ever
bestowed on me. The chicken has a wing to shelter under; but
I had no bosom to nestle in, no kindred warmth to foster me.
Left
in dirt, to cry with cold and hunger till I was weary, and
sleep without ever being prepared by exercise, or lulled by
kindness to rest; could I be expected to become any thing but
a weak and rickety babe? Still, in spite of neglect, I continued
to exist, to learn to curse existence, [her countenance grew
ferocious as she spoke,] and the treatment that rendered me
miserable, seemed to sharpen my wits. Confined then in a
damp hovel, to rock the cradle of the succeeding tribe, I
looked like a little old woman, or a hag shrivelling into nothing.
The furrows of reflection and care contracted the youthful
cheek, and gave a sort of supernatural wildness to the ever
watchful eye. During this period, my father had married another
fellow-servant, who loved him less, and knew better
how to manage
his passion, than my mother. She likewise
proving with child, they agreed to keep a shop: my step-mother, if, being an illegitimate offspring, I may venture thus
to characterize her, having obtained a sum of a rich relation,
for that purpose.
"Soon after her lying-in, she prevailed on my father to take
me home, to save the expense of maintaining me, and of
hiring a girl to assist her in the care of the child. I was young,
it was true, but appeared a knowing little thing, and might be
made handy. Accordingly I was brought to her house; but not
to a home — for a home I never knew. Of this child, a daughter,
she was extravagantly fond; and it was a part of my employment,
to assist to spoil her, by humouring all her whims, and
bearing all her caprices. Feeling her
own consequence,
before she could speak, she had learned the art of tormenting
me, and if I ever dared to resist, I received blows, laid on with
no compunctious hand, or was sent to bed dinnerless, as well
as supperless. I said that it was a part of my daily labour to
attend this child, with the servility of a slave; still it was but
a part. I was sent out in all seasons, and from place to place,
to carry burdens far above my strength, without being allowed
to draw near the fire, or ever being cheered by encouragement
or kindness. No wonder then, treated like a creature
of another species, that I began to envy, and at length to hate,
the darling of the house. Yet, I perfectly remember, that it
was the caresses, and kind expressions of my step-mother,
which first excited my jealous
discontent. Once, I cannot forget
it, when she was calling in vain her wayward child to kiss
her, I ran to her, saying, 'I will kiss you, ma'am!' and how did
my heart, which was in my mouth, sink, what was my debasement
of soul, when pushed away with — 'I do not want you,
pert thing!' Another day, when a new gown had excited the
highest good humour, and she uttered the appropriate
dear,
addressed unexpectedly to me, I thought I could never do
enough to please her; I was all alacrity, and rose proportionably
in my own estimation.
"As her daughter grew up, she was pampered with cakes
and fruit, while I was, literally speaking, fed with the refuse
of the table, with her leavings. A liquorish tooth is, I believe,
common to children, and I used to steal any
thing sweet, that
I could catch up with a chance of concealment. When detected,
she was not content to chastize me herself at the
moment, but, on my father's return in the evening (he was a
shopman), the principal discourse was to recount my faults,
and attribute them to the wicked disposition which I had
brought into the world with me, inherited from my mother.
He did not fail to leave the marks of his resentment on my
body, and then solaced himself by playing with my sister. —
I could have murdered her at those moments. To save myself
from these unmerciful corrections, I resorted to falshood, and
the untruths which I sturdily maintained, were brought in
judgment against me, to support my tyrant's inhuman charge
of my natural propensity to vice. Seeing me treated with
contempt, and always being fed and dressed better, my sister
conceived a contemptuous opinion of me, that proved an
obstacle to all affection; and my father, hearing continually of
my faults, began to consider me as a curse entailed on him for
his sins: he was therefore easily prevailed on to bind me apprentice
to one of my step-mother's friends, who kept a slop-shop in Wapping. I was represented (as it was said) in my true
colours; but she, 'warranted,' snapping her fingers, 'that she
should break my spirit or heart.'
"My mother replied, with a whine, 'that if any body could
make me better, it was such a clever woman as herself;
though, for her own part, she had tried in vain; but good-nature was her fault.'
"I shudder with horror, when I recollect the treatment I
had now to endure. Not only under the lash of my task-mistress,
but the drudge of the maid, apprentices and children,
I never had a taste of human kindness to soften the rigour of
perpetual labour. I had been introduced as an object of abhorrence
into the family; as a creature of whom my step-mother,
though she had been kind enough to let me live in the house
with her own child, could make nothing. I was described as
a wretch, whose nose must be kept to the grinding stone — and
it was held there with an iron grasp. It seemed indeed the
privilege of their superior nature to kick me about, like the
dog or cat. If I were attentive, I was called fawning, if refractory,
an obstinate mule, and like a mule I received their censure
on
my loaded back. Often has my mistress, for some
instance of forgetfulness, thrown me from one side of the
kitchen to the other, knocked my head against the wall, spit
in my face, with various refinements on barbarity that I forbear
to enumerate, though they were all acted over again by
the servant, with additional insults, to which the appellation
of bastard, was commonly added, with taunts or sneers. But
I will not attempt to give you an adequate idea of my situation,
lest you, who probably have never been drenched with
the dregs of human misery, should think I exaggerate.
"I stole now, from absolute necessity, — bread; yet whatever
else was taken, which I had it not in my power to take, was
ascribed to me. I was the filching cat, the ravenous dog, the
dumb brute, who must bear all; for if I endeavoured to exculpate
pate myself, I was silenced, without any enquiries being
made, with 'Hold your tongue, you never tell truth.' Even the
very air I breathed was tainted with scorn; for I was sent to
the neighbouring shops with Glutton, Liar, or Thief, written
on my forehead. This was, at first, the most bitter punishment;
but sullen pride, or a kind of stupid desperation, made me, at
length, almost regardless of the contempt, which had wrung
from me so many solitary tears at the only moments when I
was allowed to rest.
"Thus was I the mark of cruelty till my sixteenth year; and
then I have only to point out a change of misery; for a period
I never knew. Allow me first to make one observation. Now
I
look back, I cannot help attributing the greater part of my
misery, to the misfortune of having been thrown into the
world without the grand support of life — a mother's affection.
I had no one to love me; or to make me respected, to enable
me to acquire respect. I was an egg dropped on the sand; a
pauper by nature, hunted from family to family, who belonged
to nobody — and nobody cared for me. I was despised
from my birth, and denied the chance of obtaining a footing
for myself in society. Yes; I had not even the chance of being
considered as a fellow-creature — yet all the people with
whom I lived, brutalized as they were by the low cunning of
trade, and the despicable shifts of poverty, were not without
bowels, though they never yearned for me. I was, in fact, born
a slave, and chained
by infamy to slavery during the whole of
existence, without having any companions to alleviate it by
sympathy, or teach me how to rise above it by their example.
But, to resume the thread of my tale —
"At sixteen, I suddenly grew tall, and something like
comeliness appeared on a Sunday, when I had time to wash
my face, and put on clean clothes. My master had once or
twice caught hold of me in the passage; but I instinctively
avoided his disgusting caresses. One day however, when the
family were at a methodist meeting, he contrived to be alone
in the house with me, and by blows — yes; blows and menaces,
compelled me to submit to his ferocious desire; and, to avoid
my mistress's fury, I was obliged in future to comply, and
skulk to my loft at his command,
in spite of increasing loathing.
"The anguish which was now pent up in my bosom, seemed
to open a new world to me: I began to extend my thoughts
beyond myself, and grieve for human misery, till I discovered,
with horror — ah! what horror! — that I was with child. I know
not why I felt a mixed sensation of despair and tenderness,
excepting that, ever called a bastard, a bastard appeared to
me an object of the greatest compassion in creation.
"I communicated this dreadful circumstance to my master,
who was almost equally alarmed at the intelligence; for he
feared his wife, and public censure at the meeting. After some
weeks of deliberation had elapsed, I in continual fear that my
altered shape
would be noticed, my master gave me a medicine
in a phial, which he desired me to take, telling me, without
out any circumlocution, for what purpose it was designed. I
burst into tears, I thought it was killing myself — yet was such
a self as I worth preserving? He cursed me for a fool, and left
me to my own reflections. I could not resolve to take this
infernal potion; but I wrapped it up in an old gown, and hid
it in a corner of my box.
"Nobody yet suspected me, because they had been accustomed
to view me as a creature of another species. But the
threatening storm at last broke over my devoted head — never
shall I forget it! One Sunday evening when I was left, as usual,
to take care of the house, my master came home intoxicated,
and I became the prey of his brutal appetite.
His extreme
intoxication made him forget his customary caution, and my
mistress entered and found us in a situation that could not
have been more hateful to her than me. Her husband was
'pot-valiant,' he feared her not at the moment, nor had he
then much reason, for she instantly turned the whole force of
her anger another way. She tore off my cap, scratched, kicked,
and buffetted me, till she had exhausted her strength, declaring,
as she rested her arm, 'that I had wheedled her husband
from her. — But, could any thing better be expected from a
wretch, whom she had taken into her house out of pure charity?'
What a torrent of abuse rushed out? till, almost breathless,
she concluded with saying, 'that I was born a strumpet;
it ran in my blood,
and nothing good could come to those who
harboured me.'
"My situation was, of course, discovered, and she declared
that I should not stay another night under the same roof with
an honest family. I was therefore pushed out of doors, and my
trumpery thrown after me, when it had been contemptuously
examined in the passage, lest I should have stolen any thing.
"Behold me then in the street, utterly destitute! Whither
could I creep for shelter? To my father's roof I had no claim,
when not pursued by shame — now I shrunk back as from
death, from my mother's cruel reproaches, my father's execrations.
I could not endure to hear him curse the day I was
born, though life had been a curse to me. Of death I thought,
but with a confused
emotion of terror, as I stood leaning my
head on a post, and starting at every footstep, lest it should be
my mistress coming to tear my heart out. One of the boys of
the shop passing by, heard my tale, and immediately repaired
to his master, to give him a description of my situation; and
he touched the right key — the scandal it would give rise to,
if I were left to repeat my tale to every enquirer. This plea
came home to his reason, who had been sobered by his wife's
rage, the fury of which fell on him when I was out of her
reach, and he sent the boy to me with half-a-guinea, desiring
him to conduct me to a house, where beggars, and other
wretches, the refuse of society, nightly lodged.
This night was spent in a state of stupefaction, or desperation.
I detested mankind, and abhorred myself.
"In the morning I ventured out, to throw myself in my
master's way, at his usual hour of going abroad. I approached
him, he 'damned me for a b—, declared I had disturbed the
peace of the family, and that he had sworn to his wife, never
to take any more notice of me.' He left me; but, instantly
returning, he told me that he should speak to his friend, a
parish-offficer, to get a nurse for the brat I laid to him; and
advised me, if I wished to keep out of the house of correction,
not to make free with his name.
"I hurried back to my hole, and, rage giving place to despair,
sought for the potion that was to procure abortion, and
swallowed it, with a wish that it might destroy me, at the same
time that it stopped the sensations of new-born life,
which I
felt with indescribable emotion. My head turned round, my
heart grew sick, and in the horrors of approaching dissolution,
mental anguish was swallowed up. The effect of the medicine
was violent, and I was confined to my bed several days; but,
youth and a strong constitution prevailing, I once more
crawled out, to ask myself the cruel question, 'Whither I
should go?' I had but two shillings left in my pocket, the rest
had been expended, by a poor woman who slept in the same
room, to pay for my lodging, and purchase the necessaries of
which she partook.
"With this wretch I went into the neighbouring streets to
beg, and my disconsolate appearance drew a few pence from
the idle, enabling me still to command a bed; till, recovering
from my illness, and taught to put on my rags to the best
advantage, I was accosted from different motives, and yielded
to the desire of the brutes I met, with the same detestation
that I had felt for my still more brutal master. I have since
read in novels of the blandishments of seduction, but I had not
even the pleasure of being enticed into vice.
"I shall not," interrupted Jemima, "lead your imagination
into all the scenes of wretchedness and depravity, which I was
condemned to view; or mark the different stages of my debasing
misery. Fate dragged me through the very kennels of
society: I was still a slave, a bastard, a common property.
Become familiar with vice, for I wish to conceal nothing from
you, I picked the pockets of the drunkards
who abused me;
and proved by my conduct, that I deserved the epithets, with
which they loaded me at moments when distrust ought to
cease.
"Detesting my nightly occupation, though valuing, if I may
so use the word, my independence, which only consisted in
choosing the street in which I should wander, or the roof,
when I had money, in which I should hide my head, I was
some time before I could prevail on myself to accept of a place
in a house of ill fame, to which a girl, with whom I had accidentally
conversed in the street, had recommended me. I had
been hunted almost into a fever, by the watchmen of the
quarter of the town I frequented; one, whom I had unwittingly
offended, giving the word to the whole pack. You can
scarcely conceive the tyranny exercised
by these wretches:
considering themselves as the instruments of the very laws
they violate, the pretext which steels their conscience, hardens
their heart. Not content with receiving from us, outlaws
of society (let other women talk of favours) a brutal gratification
gratuitously as a privilege of office, they extort a tithe of
prostitution, and harrass with threats the poor creatures
whose occupation affords not the means to silence the growl
of avarice. To escape from this persecution, I once more entered
into servitude.
"A life of comparative regularity restored my health; and —
do not start — my manners were improved, in a situation
where vice sought to render itself alluring, and taste was
cultivated to fashion the person, if not to refine the mind.
Besides, the common civility of
speech, contrasted with the
gross vulgarity to which I had been accustomed, was something
like the polish of civilization. I was not shut out from all
intercourse of humanity. Still I was galled by the yoke of
service, and my mistress often flying into violent fits of passion,
made me dread a sudden dismission, which I understood
was always the case. I was therefore prevailed on, though I felt
a horror of men, to accept the offer of a gentleman, rather in
the decline of years, to keep his house, pleasantly situated in
a little village near Hampstead.
"He was a man of great talents, and of brilliant wit; but, a
worn-out votary of voluptuousness, his desires became fastidious
in proportion as they grew weak, and the native tenderness
of his heart was undermined by a vitiated
imagination.
A thoughtless carreer of libertinism and social enjoyment, had
injured his health to such a degree, that, whatever pleasure
his conversation afforded me (and my esteem was ensured by
proofs of the generous humanity of his disposition), the being
his mistress was purchasing it at a very dear rate. With such
a keen perception of the delicacies of sentiment, with an
imagination invigorated by the exercise of genius, how could
he sink into the grossness of sensuality!
"But, to pass over a subject which I recollect with pain, I
must remark to you, as an answer to your often-repeated
question, 'Why my sentiments and language were superior to
my station?' that I now began to read, to beguile the tediousness
of solitude, and to gratify an inquisitive, active mind. I
had often, in my childhood, followed a ballad-singer, to hear
the sequel of a dismal story, though sure of being severely
punished for delaying to return with whatever I was sent to
purchase. I could just spell and put a sentence together, and
I listened to the various arguments, though often mingled
with obscenity, which occurred at the table where I was allowed
to preside: for a literary friend or two frequently came
home with my master, to dine and pass the night. Having lost
the privileged respect of my sex, my presence, instead of
restraining, perhaps gave the reins to their tongues; still I had
the advantage of hearing discussions, from which, in the common
course of life, women are excluded.
"You may easily imagine, that it was only by degrees that
I could comprehend
some of the subjects they investigated, or
acquire from their reasoning what might be termed a moral
sense. But my fondness of reading increasing, and my master
occasionally shutting himself up in this retreat, for weeks together,
to write, I had many opportunities of improvement.
At first, considering money (I was right!" exclaimed Jemima,
altering her tone of voice) "as the only means, after my loss
of reputation, of obtaining respect, or even the toleration of
humanity, I had not the least scruple to secrete a part of the
sums intrusted to me, and to screen myself from detection by
a system of falshood. But, acquiring new principles, I began
to have the ambition of returning to the respectable part of
society, and was weak enough to suppose it possible. The
attention of my unassuming
instructor, who, without being
ignorant of his own powers, possessed great simplicity of manners,
strengthened the illusion. Having sometimes caught up
hints for thought, from my untutored remarks, he often led
me to discuss the subjects he was treating, and would read to
me his productions, previous to their publication, wishing to
profit by the criticism of unsophisticated feeling. The aim of
his writings was to touch the simple springs of the heart; for
he despised the would-be oracles, the self-elected philosophers,
who fright away fancy, while sifting each grain of
thought to prove that slowness of comprehension is wisdom.
"I should have distinguished this as a moment of sunshine,
a happy period in my life, had not the repugnance the disgusting
libertinism of my protector
inspired, daily become more
painful. — And, indeed, I soon did recollect it as such with
agony, when his sudden death (for he had recourse to the most
exhilarating cordials to keep up the convivial tone of his spirits)
again threw me into the desert of human society. Had he
had any time for reflection, I am certain he would have left
the little property in his power to me: but, attacked by the
fatal apoplexy in town, his heir, a man of rigid morals, brought
his wife with him to take possession of the house and effects,
before I was even informed of his death, — 'to prevent,' as she
took care indirectly to tell me, 'such a creature as she supposed
me to be, from purloining any of them, had I been
apprized of the event in time.'
"The grief I felt at the sudden
shock the information gave
me, which at first had nothing selfish in it, was treated with
contempt, and I was ordered to pack up my clothes; and a few
trinkets and books, given me by the generous deceased, were
contested, while they piously hoped, with a reprobating shake
of the head, 'that God would have mercy on his sinful soul!'
With some difficulty, I obtained my arrears of wages; but
asking — such is the spirit-grinding consequence of poverty
and infamy — for a character for honesty and economy, which
God knows I merited, I was told by this — why must I call her
woman? — 'that it would go against her conscience to recommend
a kept mistress.' Tears started in my eyes, burning tears;
for there are situations in which a wretch
is humbled by the
contempt they are conscious they do not deserve.
"I returned to the metropolis; but the solitude of a poor
lodging was inconceivably dreary, after the society I had enjoyed.
To be cut off from human converse, now I had been
taught to relish it, was to wander a ghost among the living.
Besides, I foresaw, to aggravate the severity of my fate, that
my little pittance would soon melt away. I endeavoured to
obtain needlework; but, not having been taught early, and my
hands being rendered clumsy by hard work, I did not sufficiently
excel to be employed by the ready-made linen shops,
when so many women, better qualified, were suing for it. The
want of a character prevented my getting a place; for, irksome
as servitude would have been to me, I should
have made
another trial, had it been feasible. Not that I disliked employment,
but the inequality of condition to which I must have
submitted. I had acquired a taste for literature, during the five
years I had lived with a literary man, occasionally conversing
with men of the first abilities of the age; and now to descend
to the lowest vulgarity, was a degree of wretchedness not to
be imagined unfelt. I had not, it is true, tasted the charms of
affection, but I had been familiar with the graces of humanity.
"One of the gentlemen, whom I had frequently dined in
company with, while I was treated like a companion, met me
in the street, and enquired after my health. I seized the occasion,
and began to describe my situation; but he was in haste
to join, at dinner,
a select party of choice spirits; therefore,
without waiting to hear me, he impatiently put a guinea into
my hand, saying, 'It was a pity such a sensible woman should
be in distress — he wished me well from his soul.'
"To another I wrote, stating my case, and requesting advice.
He was an advocate for unequivocal sincerity; and had
often, in my presence, descanted on the evils which arise in
society from the despotism of rank and riches.
"In reply, I received a long essay on the energy of the
human mind, with continual allusions to his own force of
character. He added, 'That the woman who could write such
a letter as I had sent him, could never be in want of resources,
were she to look into herself, and exert her powers; misery
was the consequence of indolence, and, as
to my being shut
out from society, it was the lot of man to submit to certain
privations.'
"How often have I heard," said Jemima, interrupting her
narrative, "in conversation, and read in books, that every
person willing to work may find employment? It is the vague
assertion, I believe, of insensible indolence, when it relates to
men; but, with respect to women, I am sure of its fallacy,
unless they will submit to the most menial bodily labour; and
even to be employed at hard labour is out of the reach of
many, whose reputation misfortune or folly has tainted.
"How writers, professing to be friends to freedom, and the
improvement of morals, can assert that poverty is no evil, I
cannot imagine."
"No more can I," interrupted Maria,
"yet they even expatiate
on the peculiar happiness of indigence, though in what it
can consist, excepting in brutal rest, when a man can barely
earn a subsistence, I cannot imagine. The mind is necessarily
imprisoned in its own little tenement; and, fully occupied by
keeping it in repair, has not time to rove abroad for improvement.
The book of knowledge is closely clasped, against those
who must fulfil their daily task of severe manual labour or die;
and curiosity, rarely excited by thought or information, seldom
moves on the stagnate lake of ignorance."
"As far as I have been able to observe," replied Jemima,
"prejudices, caught up by chance, are obstinately maintained
by the poor, to the exclusion of improvement; they have not
time to reason or reflect to any extent,
or minds sufficiently
exercised to adopt the principles of action, which form perhaps
the only basis of contentment in every
station."*
"And independence," said Darnford, "they are necessarily
strangers to, even the independence of despising their persecutors.
If the poor are happy, or can be happy, things are
very well as they are. And I cannot conceive on what principle
those writers contend for a change of system, who support
this opinion. The authors on the other side of the question are
much more consistent, who grant the fact; yet, insisting that
it is the lot of the majority
to be oppressed in this life, kindly
turn them over to another, to rectify the false weights and
measures of this, as the only way to justify the dispensations
of Providence. I have not," continued Darnford, "an opinion
more firmly fixed by observation in my mind, than that,
though riches may fail to produce proportionate happiness,
poverty most commonly excludes it, by shutting up all the
avenues to improvement."
"And as for the affections," added Maria, with a sigh, "how
gross, and even tormenting do they become, unless regulated
by an improving mind! The culture of the heart ever, I believe,
keeps pace with that of the mind. But pray go on,"
addressing Jemima, "though your narrative gives rise to the
most painful reflections on the present state of society."
"Not to trouble you," continued she, "with a detailed description
of all the painful feelings of unavailing exertion, I
have only to tell you, that at last I got recommended to wash
in a few families, who did me the favour to admit me into their
houses, without the most strict enquiry, to wash from one in
the morning till eight at night, for eighteen or twenty-pence
a day. On the happiness to be enjoyed over a washing-tub I
need not comment; yet you will allow me to observe, that this
was a wretchedness of situation peculiar to my sex. A man
with half my industry, and, I may say, abilities, could have
procured a decent livelihood, and discharged some of the
duties which knit mankind together; whilst I, who had acquired
a taste for the rational, nay, in honest pride let me
assert it, the
virtuous enjoyments of life, was cast aside as the
filth of society. Condemned to labour, like a machine, only to
earn bread, and scarcely that, I became melancholy and desperate.
"I have now to mention a circumstance which fills me with
remorse, and fear it will entirely deprive me of your esteem.
A tradesman became attached to me, and visited me frequently,
— and I at last obtained such a power over him, that
he offered to take me home to his house. — Consider, dear
madam, I was famishing: wonder not that I became a wolf!. —
The only reason for not taking me home immediately, was the
having a girl in the house, with child by him — and this girl —
I advised him — yes, I did! would I could forget it! — to turn out
of doors: and one night he determined to follow my advice.
Poor wretch!
She fell upon her knees, reminded him that he
had promised to marry her, that her parents were honest! —
What did it avail? — She was turned out.
"She approached her father's door, in the skirts of London,
— listened at the shutters, — but could not knock. A watchman
had observed her go and return several times — Poor
wretch! — [The remorse Jemima spoke of, seemed to be stinging
her to the soul, as she proceeded.]
"She left it, and, approaching a tub where horses were
watered, she sat down in it, and, with desperate resolution,
remained in that attitude — till resolution was no longer necessary!
"I happened that morning to be going out to wash, anticipating
the moment when I should escape from
such hard
labour. I passed by, just as some men, going to work, drew out
the stiff, cold corpse — Let me not recal the horrid moment! —
I recognized her pale visage; I listened to the tale told by the
spectators, and my heart did not burst. I thought of my own
state, and wondered how I could be such a monster! — I
worked hard; and, returning home, I was attacked by a fever.
I suffered both in body and mind. I determined not to live
with the wretch. But he did not try me; he left the neighbourhood.
I once more returned to the wash-tub.
"Still this state, miserable as it was, admitted of aggravation.
Lifting one day a heavy load, a tub fell against my shin, and
gave me great pain. I did not pay much attention to the hurt,
till it became a serious wound; being
obliged to work as usual,
or starve. But, finding myself at length unable to stand for any
time, I thought of getting into an hospital. Hospitals, it should
seem (for they are comfortless abodes for the sick) were expressly
endowed for the reception of the friendless; yet I, who
had on that plea a right to assistance, wanted the recommendation
of the rich and respectable, and was several weeks
languishing for admittance; fees were demanded on entering;
and, what was still more unreasonable, security for burying
me, that expence not coming into the letter of the charity. A
guinea was the stipulated sum — I could as soon have raised a
million; and I was afraid to apply to the parish for an order,
lest they should have passed me, I knew not whither. The
poor woman at whose house I lodged, compassionating my
state, got me into
the hospital; and the family where I received
the hurt, sent me five shillings, three and six-pence of
which I gave at my admittance — I know not for what.
"My leg grew quickly better; but I was dismissed before my
cure was completed, because I could not afford to have my
linen washed to appear decently, as the virago of a nurse said,
when the gentlemen (the surgeons) came. I cannot give you
an adequate idea of the wretchedness of an hospital; every
thing is left to the care of people intent on gain. The attendants
seem to have lost all feeling of compassion in the bustling
discharge of their offices; death is so familiar to them,
that they are not anxious to ward it off. Every thing appeared
to be conducted for the accommodation of the medical men
and their pupils, who came to make
experiments on the poor,
for the benefit of the rich. One of the physicians, I must not
forget to mention, gave me half-a-crown, and ordered me
some wine, when I was at the lowest ebb. I thought of making
my case known to the lady-like matron; but her forbidding
countenance prevented me. She condescended to look on the
patients, and make general enquiries, two or three times a
week; but the nurses knew the hour when the visit of ceremony
would commence, and every thing was as it should be.
"After my dismission, I was more at a loss than ever for a
subsistence, and, not to weary you with a repetition of the
same unavailing attempts, unable to stand at the washing-tub,
I began to consider the rich and poor as natural enemies, and
became a thief from principle.
I could not now cease to reason,
but I hated mankind. I despised myself, yet I justified my
conduct. I was taken, tried, and condemned to six months'
imprisonment in a house of correction. My soul recoils with
horror from the remembrance of the insults I had to endure,
till, branded with shame, I was turned loose in the street,
pennyless. I wandered from street to street, till, exhausted by
hunger and fatigue, I sunk down senseless at a door, where I
had vainly demanded a morsel of bread. I was sent by the
inhabitant to the work-house, to which he had surlily bid me
go, saying, he 'paid enough in conscience to the poor,' when,
with parched tongue, I implored his charity. If those well-meaning people who exclaim against beggars, were acquainted
with the treatment the poor receive in
many of
these wretched asylums, they would not stifle so easily involuntary
sympathy, by saying that they have all parishes to
go to, or wonder that the poor dread to enter the gloomy
walls. What are the common run of workhouses, but prisons,
in which many respectable old people, worn out by immoderate
labour, sink into the grave in sorrow, to which they are
carried like dogs!"
Alarmed by some indistinct noise, Jemima rose hastily to
listen, and Maria, turning to Darnford, said, "I have indeed
been shocked beyond expression when I have met a pauper's
funeral. A coffin carried on the shoulders of three or four
ill-looking wretches, whom the imagination might easily convert
vert into a band of assassins, hastening to conceal the corpse,
and quarrelling about the
prey on their way. I know it is of
little consequence how we are consigned to the earth; but I
am led by this brutal insensibility, to what even the animal
creation appears forcibly to feel, to advert to the wretched,
deserted manner in which they died."
"True," rejoined Darnford, "and, till the rich will give more
than a part of their wealth, till they will give time and attention
to the wants of the distressed, never let them boast of
charity. Let them open their hearts, and not their purses, and
employ their minds in the service, if they are really actuated
by humanity; or charitable institutions will always be the prey
of the lowest order of knaves."
Jemima returning, seemed in haste to fiinish her tale. "The
overseer farmed the poor of different parishes,
and out of the
bowels of poverty was wrung the money with which he purchased
this dwelling, as a private receptacle for madness. He
had been a keeper at a house of the same description, and
conceived that he could make money much more readily in
his old occupation. He is a shrewd — shall I say it? — villain. He
observed something resolute in my manner, and offered to
take me with him, and instruct me how to treat the disturbed
minds he meant to intrust to my care. The offer of forty
pounds a year, and to quit a workhouse, was not to be despised,
though the condition of shutting my eyes and hardening
my heart was annexed to it.
"I agreed to accompany him; and four years have I been
attendant on many wretches, and" — she lowered
her voice, —
"the witness of many enormities. In solitude my mind seemed
to recover its force, and many of the sentiments which I imbibed
in the only tolerable period of my life, returned with
their full force. Still what should induce me to be the champion
for suffering humanity? — Who ever risked any thing
for me? — Who ever acknowledged me to be a fellow-creature?" —
Maria took her hand, and Jemima, more overcome by kindness
than she had ever been by cruelty, hastened out of the
room to conceal her emotions.
Darnford soon after heard his summons, and, taking leave
of him, Maria promised to gratify his curiosity, with respect to
herself, the first opportunity.
ACTIVE as love was in the heart of Maria, the story she had just
heard made her thoughts take a wider range. The opening
buds of hope closed, as if they had put forth too early, and the
the happiest day of her life was overcast by the most melancholy
reflections. Thinking of Jemima's peculiar fate and her
own, she was led to consider the oppressed state of women,
and to lament that she had given birth to a daughter. Sleep
fled from her eyelids, while she dwelt on the wretchedness of
unprotected infancy, till sympathy with Jemima changed to
agony, when it seemed probable that her own
babe might
even now be in the very state she so forcibly described.
Maria thought, and thought again. Jemima's humanity had
rather been benumbed than killed, by the keen frost she had
to brave at her entrance into life; an appeal then to her feelings,
on this tender point, surely would not be fruitless; and
Maria began to anticipate the delight it would afford her to
gain intelligence of her child. This project was now the only
subject of reflection; and she watched impatiently for the
dawn of day, with that determinate purpose which generally
insures success.
At the usual hour, Jemima brought her breakfast, and a
tender note from Darnford. She ran her eye hastily over it,
and her heart calmly hoarded up the rapture a fresh assurance
of affection,
affection such as she wished to inspire, gave her,
without diverting her mind a moment from its design. While
Jemima waited to take away the breakfast, Maria alluded to
the reflections, that had haunted her during the night to the
exclusion of sleep. She spoke with energy of Jemima's unmerited
sufferings, and of the fate of a number of deserted
females, placed within the sweep of a whirlwind, from which
it was next to impossible to escape. Perceiving the effect her
conversation produced on the countenance of her guard, she
grasped the arm of Jemima with that irresistible warmth
which defies repulse, exclaiming — "With your heart, and such
dreadful experience, can you lend your aid to deprive my
babe of a mother's tenderness, a mother's care? In the name
of God, assist me to snatch her from destruction! Let me but
give her an education — let me but prepare her body and
mind to encounter the ills which await her sex, and I will
teach her to consider you as her second mother, and herself
as the prop of your age. Yes, Jemima, look at me — observe me
closely, and read my very soul; you merit a better fate;" she
held out her hand with a firm gesture of assurance; "and I will
procure it for you, as a testimony of my esteem, as well as of
my gratitude."
Jemima had not power to resist this persuasive torrent; and,
owning that the house in which she was confined, was situated
on the banks of the Thames, only a few miles from London,
and not on the sea-coast, as Darnford had supposed, she promised
to invent
some excuse for her absence, and go herself to
trace the situation, and enquire concerning the health, of this
abandoned daughter. Her manner implied an intention to do
something more, but she seemed unwilling to impart her
design; and Maria, glad to have obtained the main point,
thought it best to leave her to the workings of her own mind;
convinced that she had the power of interesting her still more
in favour of herself and child, by a simple recital of facts.
In the evening, Jemima informed the impatient mother,
that on the morrow she should hasten to town before the
family hour of rising, and received all the information necessary,
as a clue to her search. The "Good night!" Maria uttered
was peculiarly solemn and affectionate. Glad expectation
sparkled
in her eye; and, for the first time since her detention,
she pronounced the name of her child with pleasureable fondness;
and, with all the garrulity of a nurse, described her first
smile when she recognized her mother. Recollecting herself,
a still kinder "Adieu!" with a "God bless you!" — that seemed
to include a maternal benediction, dismissed Jemima.
The dreary solitude of the ensuing day, lengthened by impatiently
dwelling on the same idea, was intolerably wearisome.
She listened for the sound of a particular clock, which
some directions of the wind allowed her to hear distinctly. She
marked the shadow gaining on the wall; and, twilight thickening
into darkness, her breath seemed oppressed while she
anxiously
counted nine. — The last sound was a stroke of despair
on her heart; for she expected every moment, without
seeing Jemima, to have her light extinguished by the savage
female who supplied her place. She was even obliged to prepare
for bed, restless as she was, not to disoblige her new
attendant. She had been cautioned not to speak too freely to
her; but the caution was needless, her countenance would still
more emphatically have made her shrink back. Such was the
ferocity of manner, conspicuous in every word and gesture of
this hag, that Maria was afraid to enquire, why Jemima, who
had faithfully promised to see her before her door was shut for
the night, came not? — and, when the key turned in the lock,
to consign her to a night of suspence, she felt a degree of
anguish
which the circumstances scarcely justified.
Continually on the watch, the shutting of a door, or the
sound of a foot-step, made her start and tremble with apprehension,
something like what she felt, when, at her entrance,
dragged along the gallery, she began to doubt whether she
were not surrounded by demons?
Fatigued by an endless rotation of thought and wild alarms,
she looked like a spectre, when Jemima entered in the morning;
especially as her eyes darted out of her head, to read in
Jemima's countenance, almost as pallid, the intelligence she
dared not trust her tongue to demand. Jemima put down the
tea-things, and appeared very busy in arranging the table.
Maria took up a cup with trembling hand, then forcibly
recovering
her fortitude, and restraining the convulsive movement
which agitated the muscles of her mouth, she said, "Spare
yourself the pain of preparing me for your information, I
adjure you! — My child is dead!" Jemima solemnly answered,
"Yes;" with a look expressive of compassion and angry emotions.
"Leave me," added Maria, making a fresh effort to govern
her feelings, and hiding her face in her handkerchief, to
conceal her anguish — "It is enough — I know that my babe is
no more — I will hear the particulars when I am" —
calmer, she
could not utter; and Jemima, without importuning her by idle
attempts to console her, left the room.
Plunged in the deepest melancholy, she would not admit
Darnford's visits; and such is the force of early associations
even on strong minds, that, for a while, she indulged the
superstitious notion that she was justly punished by the death
of her child, for having for an instant ceased to regret her loss.
Two or three letters from Darnford, full of soothing, manly
tenderness, only added poignancy to these accusing emotions;
yet the passionate style in which he expressed, what he
termed the first and fondest wish of his heart, "that his affection
might make her some amends for the cruelty and injustice
she had endured," inspired a sentiment of gratitude to
heaven; and her eyes filled with delicious tears, when, at the
conclusion of his letter, wishing to supply the place of her
unworthy relations, whose want of principle he execrated, he
assured her, calling her his dearest girl, "that it should hence-forth be the business of his life to make her happy."
He begged, in a note sent the following morning, to be
permitted to see her, when his presence would be no intrusion
on her grief, and so earnestly intreated to be allowed,
according to promise, to beguile the tedious moments of absence,
by dwelling on the events of her past life, that she sent
him the memoirs which had been written for her daughter,
promising Jemima the perusal as soon as he returned them.
"ADDRESSING these memoirs to you, my child, uncertain
whether I shall ever have an opportunity of instructing you,
many observations will probably flow from my heart, which
only a mother — a mother schooled in misery, could make.
"The tenderness of a father who knew the world, might be
great; but could it equal that of a mother — of a mother, labouring
under a portion of the misery, which the constitution
of society seems to have entailed on all her kind? It is, my
child, my dearest daughter, only such a mother, who will dare
to break through all restraint to provide for your happiness —
who will voluntarily brave
censure herself, to ward off sorrow
from your bosom. From my narrative, my dear girl, you may
gather the instruction, the counsel, which is meant rather to
exercise than influence your mind. — Death may snatch me
from you, before you can weigh my advice, or enter into my
reasoning: I would then, with fond anxiety, lead you very
early in life to form your grand principle of action, to save you
from the vain regret of having, through irresolution, let the
spring-tide of existence pass away, unimproved, unenjoyed. —
Gain experience — ah! gain it — while experience is worth having,
and acquire sufficient fortitude to pursue your own happiness;
it includes your utility, by a direct path. What is wisdom
too often, but the owl of the goddess, who sits moping in a
desolated heart; around me she
shrieks, but I would invite all
the gay warblers of spring to nestle in your blooming bosom.
— Had I not wasted years in deliberating, after I ceased to
doubt, how I ought to have acted — I might now be useful and
happy. — For my sake, warned by my example, always appear
what you are, and you will not pass through existence without
enjoying its genuine blessings, love and respect.
"Born in one of the most romantic parts of England, an
enthusiastic fondness for the varying charms of nature is the
first sentiment I recollect; or rather it was the first consciousness
of pleasure that employed and formed my imagination.
"My father had been a captain of a man of war; but, disgusted
with the service, on account of the preferment
of men
whose chief merit was their family connections or borough
interest, he retired into the country; and, not knowing what
to do with himself — married. In his family, to regain his lost
consequence, he determined to keep up the same passive
obedience, as in the vessels in which he had commanded. His
orders were not to be disputed; and the whole house was
expected to fly, at the word of command, as if to man the
shrouds, or mount aloft in an elemental strife, big with life or
death. He was to be instantaneously obeyed, especially by my
mother, whom he very benevolently married for love; but
took care to remind her of the obligation, when she dared, in
the slightest instance, to question his absolute authority. My
eldest brother, it is true, as he grew up, was treated with more
respect
by my father; and became in due form the deputy-tyrant of the house. The representative of my father, a being
privileged by nature — a boy, and the darling of my mother,
he did not fail to act like an heir apparent. Such indeed was
my mother's extravagant partiality, that, in comparison with
her affection for him, she might be said not to love the rest of
her children. Yet none of the children seemed to have so little
affection for her. Extreme indulgence had rendered him so
selfish, that he only thought of himself; and from tormenting
insects and animals, he became the despot of his brothers, and
still more of his sisters.
"It is perhaps difficult to give you an idea of the petty cares
which obscured the morning of my life; continual restraint in
the most trivial matters; unconditional
submission to orders,
which, as a mere child, I soon discovered to be unreasonable,
because inconsistent and contradictory. Thus are we destined
to experience a mixture of bitterness, with the recollection of
our most innocent enjoyments.
"The circumstances which, during my childhood, occurred
to fashion my mind, were various; yet, as it would probably
afford me more pleasure to revive the fading remembrance
of newborn delight, than you, my child, could feel in the
perusal, I will not entice you to stray with me into the verdant
meadow, to search for the flowers that youthful hopes scatter
in every path; though, as I write, I almost scent the fresh
green of spring — of that spring which never returns!
"I had two sisters, and one brother,
younger than myself,
my brother Robert was two years older, and might truly be
termed the idol of his parents, and the torment of the rest of
the family. Such indeed is the force of prejudice, that what
was called spirit and wit in him, was cruelly repressed as
forwardness in me.
"My mother had an indolence of character, which prevented
her from paying much attention to our education. But
the healthy breeze of a neighbouring heath, on which we
bounded at pleasure, volatilized the humours that improper
food might have generated. And to enjoy open air and freedom,
was paradise, after the unnatural restraint of our fireside,
where we were often obliged to sit three or four hours
together, without daring to utter a word, when my father
was
out of humour, from want of employment, or of a variety of
boisterous amusement. I had however one advantage, an instructor,
the brother of my father, who, intended for the
church, had of course received a liberal education. But,
becoming attached to a young lady of great beauty and large
fortune, and acquiring in the world some opinions not consonant
with the profession for which he was designed, he accepted,
with the most sanguine expectations of success, the
offer of a nobleman to accompany him to India, as his confidential
secretary.
"A correspondence was regularly kept up with the object
of his affection; and the intricacies of business, peculiarly
wearisome to a man of a romantic turn of mind, contributed,
with a forced absence, to increase his attachment.
Every
other passion was lost in this master-one, and only served to
swell the torrent. Her relations, such were his waking dreams,
who had despised him, would court in their turn his alliance,
and all the blandishments of taste would grace the triumph of
love. — While he basked in the warm sunshine of love, friendship
also promised to shed its dewy freshness; for a friend,
whom he loved next to his mistress, was the confident, who
forwarded the letters from one to the other, to elude the
observation of prying relations. A friend false in similar circumstances,
is, my dearest girl, an old tale; yet, let not this
example, or the frigid caution of coldblooded moralists, make
you endeavour to stifle hopes, which are the buds that naturally
unfold themselves during the spring of life! Whilst your
own heart
is sincere, always expect to meet one glowing with
the same sentiments; for to fly from pleasure, is not to avoid
pain!
"My uncle realized, by good luck, rather than management,
a handsome fortune; and returning on the wings of love, lost
in the most enchanting reveries, to England, to share it with
his mistress and his friend, he found them — united.
"There were some circumstances, not necessary for me to
recite, which aggravated the guilt of the friend beyond measure,
and the deception, that had been carried on to the last
moment, was so base, it produced the most violent effect on
my uncle's health and spirits. His native country, the world!
lately a garden of blooming sweets, blasted by treachery,
seemed changed into a parched desert,
the abode of hissing
serpents. Disappointment rankled in his heart; and, brooding
over his wrongs, he was attacked by a raging fever, followed
by a derangement of mind, which only gave place to habitual
melancholy, as he recovered more strength of body.
"Declaring an intention never to marry, his relations were
ever clustering about him, paying the grossest adulation to a
man, who, disgusted with mankind, received them with
scorn, or bitter sarcasms. Something in my countenance
pleased him, when I began to prattle. Since his return, he
appeared dead to affection; but I soon, by showing him innocent
fondness, became a favourite; and endeavouring to enlarge
and strengthen my mind, I grew dear to him in proportion
as I imbibed his sentiments. He had a forcible
manner of
speaking, rendered more so by a certain impressive wildness
of look and gesture, calculated to engage the attention of a
young and ardent mind. It is not then surprising that I quickly
adopted his opinions in preference, and reverenced him as
one of a superior order of beings. He inculcated, with great
warmth, self-respect, and a lofty consciousness of acting right,
independent of the censure or applause of the world; nay, he
almost taught me to brave, and even despise its censure, when
convinced of the rectitude of my own intentions.
"Endeavouring to prove to me that nothing which deserved
served the name of love or friendship, existed in the world,
he drew such animated pictures of his own feelings, rendered
permanent by disappointment, as imprinted the sentiments
strongly on my heart, and animated my imagination. These
remarks are necessary to elucidate some peculiarities in my
character, which by the world are indefinitely termed romantic.
"My uncle's increasing affection led him to visit me often.
Still, unable to rest in any place, he did not remain long in the
country to soften domestic tyranny; but he brought me books,
for which I had a passion, and they conspired with his conversation,
to make me form an ideal picture of life. I shall pass
over the tyranny of my father, much as I suffered from it; but
it is necessary to notice, that it undermined my mother's
health; and that her temper, continually irritated by domestic
bickering, became intolerably peevish.
"My eldest brother was articled to a neighbouring attorney,
the shrewdest, and, I may add, the most unprincipled man in
that part of the country. As my brother generally came home
every Saturday, to astonish my mother by exhibiting his attainments,
he gradually assumed a right of directing the
whole family, not excepting my father. He seemed to take a
peculiar pleasure in tormenting and humbling me; and if I
ever ventured to complain of this treatment to either my
father or mother, I was rudely rebuffed for presuming to
judge of the conduct of my eldest brother.
"About this period a merchant's family came to settle in our
neighbourhood. A mansion-house in the village, lately purchased,-had been preparing the whole spring, and the sight
of the
costly furniture, sent from London, had excited my
mother's envy, and roused my father's pride. My sensations
were very different, and all of a pleasurable kind. I longed to
see new characters, to break the tedious monotony of my life;
and to find a friend, such as fancy had pourtrayed. I cannot
then describe the emotion I felt, the Sunday they made their
appearance at church. My eyes were rivetted on the pillar
round which I expected first to catch a glimpse of them, and
darted forth to meet a servant who hastily preceded a group
of ladies, whose white robes and waving plumes, seemed to
stream along the gloomy aisle, diffusing the light, by which I
contemplated their figures.
"We visited them in form; and I quickly selected the eldest
daughter for my friend. The second son, George,
paid me
particular attention, and finding his attainments and manners
superior to those of the young men of the village, I began to
imagine him superior to the rest of mankind. Had my home
been more comfortable, or my previous acquaintance more
numerous, I should not probably have been so eager to open
my heart to new affections.
"Mr. Venables, the merchant, had acquired a large fortune
by unremitting attention to business; but his health declining
rapidly, he was obliged to retire, before his son, George, had
acquired sufficient experience, to enable him to conduct their
affairs on the same prudential plan, his father had invariably
pursued. Indeed, he had laboured to throw off his authority,
having despised his narrow plans and cautious speculation.
The eldest son
could not be prevailed on to enter the firm;
and, to oblige his wife, and have peace in the house, Mr.
Venables had purchased a commission for him in the guards.
"I am now alluding to circumstances which came to my
knowledge long after; but it is necessary, my dearest child,
that you should know the character of your father, to prevent
your despising your mother; the only parent inclined to
discharge a parent's duty. In London, George had acquired
habits of libertinism, which he carefully concealed from his
father and his commercial connections. The mask he wore,
was so complete a covering of his real visage, that the praise
his father lavished on his conduct, and, poor mistaken man!
on his principles, contrasted with his brother's, rendered the
notice he took of me peculiarly flattering. Without any fixed
design, as I am now convinced, he continued to single me
out at the dance, press my hand at parting, and utter expressions
of unmeaning passion, to which I gave a meaning naturally
suggested by the romantic turn of my thoughts. His
stay in the country was short; his manners did not entirely
please me; but, when he left us, the colouring of my picture
became more vivid — Whither did not my imagination lead
me? In short, I fancied myself in love — in love with the disinterestedness,
fortitude, generosity, dignity, and humanity,
with which I had invested the hero I dubbed. A circumstance
which soon after occurred, rendered all these virtues
palpable. [The incident is perhaps worth relating on other
accounts, and
therefore I shall describe it distinctly.]
"I had a great affection for my nurse, old Mary, for whom
I used often to work, to spare her eyes. Mary had a younger
sister, married to a sailor, while she was suckling me; for my
mother only suckled my eldest brother, which might be the
cause of her extraordinary partiality. Peggy, Mary's sister,
lived with her, till her husband, becoming a mate in a West-Indian trader, got a little before-hand in the world. He wrote
to his wife from the first port in the Channel, after his most
successful voyage, to request her to come to London to meet
him; he even wished her to determine on living there for the
future, to save him the trouble of coming to her the moment
he came on shore; and to turn a penny by keeping
a green-stall. It was too much to set out on a journey the moment he
had finished a voyage, and fifty miles by land, was worse than
a thousand leagues by sea.
"She packed up her alls, and came to London — but did
not meet honest Daniel. A common misfortune prevented
her, and the poor are bound to suffer for the good of their
country — he was pressed in the river — and never came on
shore.
"Peggy was miserable in London, not knowing, as she said,
'the face of any living soul.' Besides, her imagination had been
employed, anticipating a month or six weeks' happiness with
her husband. Daniel was to have gone with her to Sadler's
Wells, and Westminster Abbey, and to many sights, which he
knew she never heard of in the country. Peggy too was thrifty,
and how could she manage to put his plan in execution alone?
He had acquaintance; but she did not know the very name of
their places of abode. His letters were made up of — How do
you does, and God bless yous, — information was reserved for
the hour of meeting.
"She too had her portion of information, near at heart.
Molly and Jacky were grown such little darlings, she was almost
angry that daddy did not see their tricks. She had not
half the pleasure she should have had from their prattle, could
she have recounted to him each night the pretty speeches of
the day. Some stories, however, were stored up — and Jacky
could say papa with such a sweet voice, it must delight his
heart. Yet when she came, and found no Daniel to greet her,
when
Jacky called papa, she wept, bidding 'God bless his
innocent soul, that did not know what sorrow was.' — But
more sorrow was in store for Peggy, innocent as she was. —
Daniel was killed in the first engagement, and then the
papa
was agony, sounding to the heart.
"She had lived sparingly on his wages, while there was any
hope of his return; but, that gone, she returned with a breaking
heart to the country, to a little market town, nearly three
miles from our village. She did not like to go to service, to be
snubbed about, after being her own mistress. To put her children
out to nurse was impossible: how far would her wages
go? and to send them to her husband's parish, a distant one,
was to lose her husband twice over.
"I had heard all from Mary, and made my uncle furnish a
little cottage for her, to enable her to sell — so sacred was poor
Daniel's advice, now he was dead and gone a little fruit, toys
and cakes. The minding of the shop did not require her whole
time, nor even the keeping her children clean, and she loved
to see them clean; so she took in washing, and altogether
made a shift to earn bread for her children, still weeping for
Daniel, when Jacky's arch looks made her think of his father.
— It was pleasant to work for her children. — 'Yes; from morning
till night, could she have had a kiss from their father, God
rest his soul! Yes; had it plased Providence to have let him
come back without a leg or an arm, it would have been the
same thing to her — for she did not love him because he
maintained
them — no; she had hands of her own.'
"The country people were honest, and Peggy left her linen
out to dry very late. A recruiting party, as she supposed, passing
through, made free with a large wash; for it was all swept
away, including her own and her children's little stock.
"This was a dreadful blow; two dozen of shirts, stocks and
handkerchiefs. She gave the money which she had laid by for
half a year's rent, and promised to pay two shillings a week till
all was cleared; so she did not lose her employment. This two
shillings a week, and the buying a few necessaries for the
children, drove her so hard, that she had not a penny to pay
her rent with, when a twelvemonth's became due.
"She was now with Mary, and had just told her tale, which
Mary instantly repeated — it was intended for my ear. Many
houses in this town, producing a borough-interest, were included
in the estate purchased by Mr. Venables, and the attorney
with whom my brother lived, was appointed his agent, to
collect and raise the rents.
"He demanded Peggy's, and, in spite of her intreaties, her
poor goods had been seized and sold. So that she had not, and
what was worse her children, 'for she had known sorrow
enough,' a bed to lie on. She knew that I was good-natured —
right charitable, yet not liking to ask for more than needs
must, she scorned to petition while people could any how be
made to wait. But now, should she be turned out of doors, she
must expect
nothing less than to lose all her customers, and
then she must beg or starve — and what would become of her
children? — 'had Daniel not been pressed — but God knows
best — all this could not have happened.'
"I had two mattrasses on my bed; what did I want with two,
when such a worthy creature must lie on the ground? My
mother would be angry, but I could conceal it till my uncle
came down; and then I would tell him all the whole truth, and
if he absolved me, heaven would.
"I begged the house-maid to come up stairs with me (servants
always feel for the distresses of poverty, and so would
the rich if they knew what it was). She assisted me to tie up
the mattrass; I discovering, at the same time, that one blanket
would serve me
till winter, could I persuade my sister, who
slept with me, to keep my secret. She entering in the midst
of the package, I gave her some new feathers, to silence her.
We got the mattrass down the back stairs, unperceived, and
I helped to carry it, taking with me all the money I had, and
what I could borrow from my sister.
"When I got to the cottage, Peggy declared that she would
not take what I had brought secretly; but, when, with all the
eager eloquence inspired by a decided purpose, I grasped her
hand with weeping eyes, assuring her that my uncle would
screen me from blame, when he was once more in the country,
describing, at the same time, what she would suffer in
parting with her children, after keeping them so long from
being thrown on the parish, she reluctantly consented.
"My project of usefulness ended not here; I determined to
speak to the attorney; he frequently paid me compliments.
His character did not intimidate me; but, imagining that
Peggy must be mistaken, and that no man could turn a deaf
ear to such a tale of complicated distress, I determined to walk
to the town with Mary the next morning, and request him to
wait for the rent, and keep my secret, till my uncle's return.
"My repose was sweet; and, waking with the first dawn of
day, I bounded to Mary's cottage. What charms do not a light
heart spread over nature! Every bird that twittered in a bush,
every flower that enlivened the hedge, seemed placed there
to awaken me to rapture — yes; to rapture. The present moment
was full fraught with happiness;
and on futurity I bestowed
not a thought, excepting to anticipate my success with
the attorney.
"This man of the world, with rosy face and simpering features,
received me politely, nay kindly; listened with complacency
to my remonstrances, though he scarcely heeded
Mary's tears. I did not then suspect, that my eloquence was
in my complexion, the blush of seventeen, or that, in a world
where humanity to women is the characteristic of advancing
civilization, the beauty of a young girl was so much more
interesting than the distress of an old one. Pressing my hand,
he promised to let Peggy remain in the house as long as I
wished. — I more than returned the pressure — I was so grateful
and so happy. Emboldened by my innocent warmth, he
then kissed me —
and I did not draw back — I took it for a kiss
of charity.
"Gay as a lark, I went to dine at Mr. Venables'. I had previously
obtained five shillings from my father, towards re-clothing
the poor children of my care, and prevailed on my mother
to take one of the girls into the house, whom I determined to
teach to work and read.
"After dinner, when the younger part of the circle retired
to the music room, I recounted with energy my tale; that is,
I mentioned Peggy's distress, without hinting at the steps I
had taken to relieve her. Miss Venables gave me half-a-crown;
the heir five shillings; but George sat unmoved. I was cruelly
distressed by the disappointment — I scarcely could remain on
my chair; and, could I have got out of the room unperceived,
I should have flown home, as if to run away from myself. After
several vain attempts to rise, I leaned my head against the
marble chimney-piece, and gazing on the evergreens that
filled the fire-place, moralized on the vanity of human expectations;
regardless of the company. I was roused by a gentle
tap on my shoulder from behind Charlotte's chair. I turned
my head, and George slid a guinea into my hand, putting his
finger to his mouth, to enjoin me silence.
"What a revolution took place, not only in my train of
thoughts, but feelings! I trembled with emotion — now, indeed,
I was in love. Such delicacy too, to enhance his benevolence!
I felt in my pocket every five minutes, only to feel the
guinea; and its magic touch invested my hero with more than
mortal beauty. My fancy had found a basis to erect its model
of perfection on;
and quickly went to work, with all the happy
credulity of youth, to consider that heart as devoted to virtue,
which had only obeyed a virtuous impulse. The bitter experience
was yet to come, that has taught me how very distinct
are the principles of virtue, from the casual feelings from
which they germinate.
"I HAVE perhaps dwelt too long on a circumstance, which is
only of importance as it marks the progress of a deception that
has been so fatal to my peace; and introduces to your notice
a poor girl, whom, intending to serve, I led to ruin. Still it is
probable that I was not entirely the victim of mistake; and
that your father, gradually fashioned by the world, did not
quickly become what I hesitate to call him — out of respect to
my daughter.
"But, to hasten to the more busy scenes of my life. Mr.
Venables and my mother died the same summer; and, wholly
engrossed by my attention to her, I thought of little else. The
neglect of her darling, my brother Robert, had a violent effect
on
her weakened mind; for, though boys may be reckoned the
pillars of the house without doors, girls are often the only
comfort within. They but too frequently waste their health
and spirits attending a dying parent, who leaves them in comparative
poverty. After closing, with filial piety, a father's
eyes, they are chased from the paternal roof, to make room
for the first-born, the son, who is to carry the empty family-name down to posterity; though, occupied with his own pleasures,
he scarcely thought of discharging, in the decline of his
parent's life, the debt contracted in his childhood. My mother's
conduct led me to make these reflections. Great as was
the fatigue I endured, and the affection my unceasing solicitude
evinced, of which my mother seemed perfectly sensible,
still, when my brother, whom I could
hardly persuade to
remain a quarter of an hour in her chamber, was with her
alone, a short time before her death, she gave him a little
hoard, which she had been some years accumulating.
"During my mother's illness, I was obliged to manage my
father's temper, who, from the lingering nature of her
malady, began to imagine that it was merely fancy. At this
period, an artful kind of upper servant attracted my father's
attention, and the neighbours made many remarks on the
finery, not honestly got, exhibited at evening service. But I
was too much occupied with my mother to observe any
change in her dress or behaviour, or to listen to the whisper
of scandal.
"I shall not dwell on the death-bed scene, lively as is the
remembrance, or on the emotion produced by the last
grasp
of my mother's cold hand; when blessing me, she added, 'A
little patience, and all will be over!' Ah! my child, how often
have those words rung mournfully in my ears — and I have
exclaimed — 'A little more patience, and I too shall be at rest!'
"My father was violently affected by her death, recollected
instances of his unkindness, and wept like a child.
"My mother had solemnly recommended my sisters to my
care, and bid me be a mother to them. They, indeed, became
more dear to me as they became more forlorn; for, during my
mother's illness, I discovered the ruined state of my father's
circumstances, and that he had only been able to keep up
appearances, by the sums which he borrowed of my uncle.
"My father's grief, and consequent
tenderness to his children,
quickly abated, the house grew still more gloomy or
riotous; and my refuge from care was again at Mr. Venables';
the young 'squire having taken his father's place, and allowing,
for the present, his sister to preside at his table. George,
though dissatisfied with his portion of the fortune, which had
till lately been all in trade, visited the family as usual. He was
now full of speculations in trade, and his brow became
clouded by care. He seemed to relax in his attention to me,
when the presence of my uncle gave a new turn to his behaviour.
I was too unsuspecting, too disinterested, to trace these
changes to their source.
My home every day became more and more disagreeable
to me; my liberty was unnecessarily abridged, and
my books,
on the pretext that they made me idle, taken from me. My
father's mistress was with child, and he, doating on her, allowed
or overlooked her vulgar manner of tyrannizing over
us. I was indignant, especially when I saw her endeavouring
to attract, shall I say seduce? my younger brother. By allowing
women but one way of rising in the world, the fostering the
libertinism of men, society makes monsters of them, and then
their ignoble vices are brought forward as a proof of inferiority
of intellect.
The wearisomeness of my situation can scarcely be described.
Though my life had not passed in the most even
tenour with my mother, it was paradise to that I was destined
to endure with my father's mistress, jealous of her illegitimate
authority. My father's former
occasional tenderness, in spite
of his violence of temper, had been soothing to me; but now
he only met me with reproofs or portentous frowns. The
house-keeper, as she was now termed, was the vulgar despot
of the family; and assuming the new character of a fine lady,
she could never forgive the contempt which was sometimes
visible in my countenance, when she uttered with pomposity
her bad English, or affected to be well bred.
To my uncle I ventured to open my heart; and he, with his
wonted benevolence, began to consider in what manner he
could extricate me out of my present irksome situation. In
spite of his own disappointment, or, most probably, actuated
by the feelings that had been petrified, not cooled, in all their
sanguine fervour, like a boiling torrent of lava suddenly dashing
into
the sea, he thought a marriage of mutual inclination
(would envious stars permit it) the only chance for happiness
in this disastrous world. George Venables had the reputation
of being attentive to business, and my father's example gave
great weight to this circumstance; for habits of order in business
would, he conceived, extend to the regulation of the
affections in domestic life. George seldom spoke in my uncle's
company, except to utter a short, judicious question, or to
make a pertinent remark, with all due deference to his superior
judgment; so that my uncle seldom left his company
without observing, that the young man had more in him than
people supposed.
In this opinion he was not singular; yet, believe me, and I
am not swayed by resentment, these speeches so justly
poized, this silent deference, when the animal spirits of other
young people were throwing off youthful ebullitions, were not
the effect of thought or humility, but sheer barrenness of
mind, and want of imagination. A colt of mettle will curvet
and shew his paces. Yes; my dear girl, these prudent young
men want all the fire necessary to ferment their faculties, and
are characterized as wise, only because they are not foolish.
It is true, that George was by no means so great a favourite
of mine as during the first year of our acquaintance; still, as he
often coincided in opinion with me, and echoed my sentiments;
and having myself no other attachment, I heard with
pleasure my uncle's proposal; but thought more of obtaining
my freedom, than of my lover. But, when George, seemingly
anxious for my happiness, pressed me to quit my present
painful situation, my heart swelled with gratitude — I knew
not that my uncle had promised him five thousand pounds.
Had this truly generous man mentioned his intention to me,
I should have insisted on a thousand pounds being settled on
each of my sisters; George would have contested; I should
have seen his selfish soul; and — gracious God! have been
spared the misery of discovering, when too late, that I was
united to a heartless, unprincipled wretch. All my schemes of
usefulness would not then have been blasted. The tenderness
of my heart would not have heated my imagination with visions
of the ineffable delight of happy love; nor would the
sweet duty of a mother have been so cruelly interrupted.
But I must not suffer the fortitude I have so hardly acquired,
to be undermined by unavailing regret. Let me hasten forward
to describe the turbid stream in which I had to wade —
but let me exultingly declare that it is passed — my soul holds
fellowship with him no more. He cut the Gordian knot, which
my principles, mistaken ones, respected; he dissolved the tie,
the fetters rather, that ate into my very vitals — and I should
rejoice, conscious that my mind is freed, though confined in
hell itself, the only place that even fancy can imagine more
dreadful than my present abode.
These varying emotions will not allow me to proceed. I
heave sigh after sigh; yet my heart is still oppressed. For what
am I reserved? Why was I not born a man, or why was I born
at all?