"To argue with this privileged firſt-born of reaſon, I perceived, would be vain. I therefore only requeſted him to let me remain another day at his houſe, while I ſought for a lodging; and not to inform Mr. Venables that I had ever been ſheltered there.
"He conſented, becauſe he had not the courage to refuſe a perſon for whom he had an habitual reſpect; but I heard the pent-up choler burſt forth in curſes, when he met his wife, who was waiting impatiently at the foot of the ſtairs, to know what effect my expoſtulations would have on him.
"Without waſting any time in the fruitleſs indulgence of vexation, I once more ſet out in ſearch of an abode inwhich I could hide myſelf for a few weeks.
"Agreeing to pay an exorbitant price, I hired an apartment, without any reference being required relative to my character: indeed, a glance at my ſhape ſeemed to ſay, that my motive for concealment was ſufficiently obvious. Thus was I obliged to ſhroud my head in infamy.
"To avoid all danger of detection—I uſe the appropriate word, my child, for I was hunted out like a felon—I determined to take poſſeſſion of my new lodgings that very evening.
"I did not inform my landlady where I was going. I knew that ſhe had a ſincere affection for me, and would willingly have run any riſk to ſhow her gratitude; yet I was fully convinced, that a few kind words fromJohnny would have found the woman in her, and her dear benefactreſs, as ſhe termed me in an agony of tears, would have been ſacrificed, to recompenſe her tyrant for condeſcending to treat her like an equal. He could be kind-hearted, as ſhe expreſſed it, when he pleaſed. And this thawed ſternneſs, contraſted with his habitual brutality, was the more acceptable, and could not be purchaſed at too dear a rate.
"The ſight of the advertiſement made me deſirous of taking refuge with my uncle, let what would be the conſequence; and I repaired in a hackney coach (afraid of meeting ſome perſon who might chance to know me, had I walked) to the chambers of my uncle's friend.
"He received me with great politeneſs (my uncle had already prepoſſeſſed him in my favour), and liſtened, with intereſt, to my explanation of the motives which had induced me to fly from home, and ſkulk in obſcurity, with all the timidity of fear that ought only to be the companion of guilt. He lamented, with rather more gallantry than, in my ſituation, I thought delicate, that ſuch a woman ſhould be thrown away on a man inſenſible to the charms of beauty or grace. He ſeemed at a loſs what to adviſe me to do, to evade my huſband's ſearch, without haſtening to my uncle, whom, he heſitating ſaid, I might not find alive. He uttered this intelligence with viſible regret; requeſted me, at leaſt, to wait for the arrival of the next packet; offered me what money I wanted, and promiſed to viſit me.
"He kept his word; ſtill no letter arrived to put an end to my painful ſtate of ſuſpenſe. I procured ſome books and muſic, to beguile the tedious ſolitary days.
'Come, ever ſmiling Liberty,'And with thee bring thy jocund train:'
'Come, ever ſmiling Liberty,'And with thee bring thy jocund train:'
I ſung—and ſung till, ſaddened by the ſtrain of joy, I bitterly lamented the fate that deprived me of all ſocial pleaſure. Comparative liberty indeed I had poſſeſſed myſelf of; but the jocund train lagged far behind!
"Bywatching my only viſitor, my uncle's friend, or by ſome other means, Mr. Venables diſcovered my reſidence, and came to enquire for me. The maid-ſervant aſſured him there was no ſuch perſon in the houſe. A buſtle enſued—I caught the alarm—liſtened—diſtinguiſhed his voice, and immediately locked the door. They ſuddenly grew ſtill; and I waited near a quarter of an hour, before I heard him open the parlour door, and mount the ſtairs with the miſtreſs of the houſe, who obſequiouſly declared that ſhe knew nothing of me.
"Finding my door locked, ſhe requeſted me to 'open it, and prepare togo home with my huſband, poor gentleman! to whom I had already occaſioned ſufficient vexation.' I made no reply. Mr. Venables then, in an aſſumed tone of ſoftneſs, intreated me, 'to conſider what he ſuffered, and my own reputation, and get the better of childiſh reſentment.' He ran on in the ſame ſtrain, pretending to addreſs me, but evidently adapting his diſcourſe to the capacity of the landlady; who, at every pauſe, uttered an exclamation of pity; or 'Yes, to be ſure—Very true, ſir.'
"Sick of the farce, and perceiving that I could not avoid the hated interview, I opened the door, and he entered. Advancing with eaſy aſſurance to take my hand, I ſhrunk from his touch, with an involuntary ſtart, as I ſhould have done from a noiſome reptile,with more diſguſt than terror. His conductreſs was retiring, to give us, as ſhe ſaid, an opportunity to accommodate matters. But I bade her come in, or I would go out; and curioſity impelled her to obey me.
"Mr. Venables began to expoſtulate; and this woman, proud of his confidence, to ſecond him. But I calmly ſilenced her, in the midſt of a vulgar harangue, and turning to him, aſked, 'Why he vainly tormented me? declaring that no power on earth ſhould force me back to his houſe.'
"After a long altercation, the particulars of which, it would be to no purpoſe to repeat, he left the room. Some time was ſpent in loud converſation in the parlour below, and I diſcovered that he had brought his friend, an attorney, with him.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * The tumult on the landing place, brought out a gentleman, who had recently taken apartments in the houſe; he enquired why I was thus aſſailed[91-A]? The voluble attorney inſtantly repeated the trite tale. The ſtranger turned to me, obſerving,with the moſt ſoothing politeneſs and manly intereſt, that 'my countenance told a very different ſtory.' He added, 'that I ſhould not be inſulted, or forced out of the houſe, by any body.'
"'Not by her huſband?' aſked the attorney.
"'No, ſir, not by her huſband.' Mr. Venables advanced towards him—But there was a deciſion in his attitude, that ſo well ſeconded that of his voice,
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * They left the houſe: at the ſame time proteſting, that any one that ſhould dare to protect me, ſhould be proſecuted with the utmoſt rigour.
"They were ſcarcely out of the houſe, when my landlady came up to me again, and begged my pardon, in a very different tone. For, thoughMr. Venables had bid her, at her peril, harbour me, he had not attended, I found, to her broad hints, to diſcharge the lodging. I inſtantly promiſed to pay her, and make her a preſent to compenſate for my abrupt departure, if ſhe would procure me another lodging, at a ſufficient diſtance; and ſhe, in return, repeating Mr. Venables' plauſible tale, I raiſed her indignation, and excited her ſympathy, by telling her briefly the truth.
"She expreſſed her commiſeration with ſuch honeſt warmth, that I felt ſoothed; for I have none of that faſtidious ſenſitiveneſs, which a vulgar accent or geſture can alarm to the diſregard of real kindneſs. I was ever glad to perceive in others the humane feelings I delighted to exerciſe; and the recollection of ſome ridiculous characteriſtic circumſtances, which have occurred in a moment of emotion, has convulſed me with laughter, though at the inſtant I ſhould have thought it ſacrilegious to have ſmiled. Your improvement, my deareſt girl, being ever preſent to me while I write, I note theſe feelings, becauſe women, more accuſtomed to obſerve manners than actions, are too much alive to ridicule. So much ſo, that their boaſted ſenſibility is often ſtifled by falſe delicacy. True ſenſibility, the ſenſibility which is the auxiliary of virtue, and the ſoul of genius, is in ſociety ſo occupied with the feelings of others, as ſcarcely to regard its own ſenſations. With what reverence have I looked up at my uncle, the dear parent of my mind! when I have ſeen the ſenſe of his own ſufferings, of mind and body, abſorbedin a deſire to comfort thoſe, whoſe miſfortunes were comparatively trivial. He would have been aſhamed of being as indulgent to himſelf, as he was to others. 'Genuine fortitude,' he would aſſert, 'conſiſted in governing our own emotions, and making allowance for the weakneſſes in our friends, that we would not tolerate in ourſelves.' But where is my fond regret leading me!
"'Women muſt be ſubmiſſive,' ſaid my landlady. 'Indeed what could moſt women do? Who had they to maintain them, but their huſbands? Every woman, and eſpecially a lady, could not go through rough and ſmooth, as ſhe had done, to earn a little bread.'
"She was in a talking mood, and proceeded to inform me how ſhe had been uſed in the world. 'She knewwhat it was to have a bad huſband, or ſhe did not know who ſhould.' I perceived that ſhe would be very much mortified, were I not to attend to her tale, and I did not attempt to interrupt her, though I wiſhed her, as ſoon as poſſible, to go out in ſearch of a new abode for me, where I could once more hide my head.
"She began by telling me, 'That ſhe had ſaved a little money in ſervice; and was over-perſuaded (we muſt all be in love once in our lives) to marry a likely man, a footman in the family, not worth a groat. My plan,' ſhe continued, 'was to take a houſe, and let out lodgings; and all went on well, till my huſband got acquainted with an impudent ſlut, who choſe to live on other people's means—and then all went to rack and ruin. He ran indebt to buy her fine clothes, ſuch clothes as I never thought of wearing myſelf, and—would you believe it?—he ſigned an execution on my very goods, bought with the money I worked ſo hard to get; and they came and took my bed from under me, before I heard a word of the matter. Aye, madam, theſe are miſfortunes that you gentlefolks know nothing of,—but ſorrow is ſorrow, let it come which way it will.
"'I ſought for a ſervice again—very hard, after having a houſe of my own!—but he uſed to follow me, and kick up ſuch a riot when he was drunk, that I could not keep a place; nay, he even ſtole my clothes, and pawned them; and when I went to the pawnbroker's, and offered to take my oath that they were not bought with a farthing of hismoney, they ſaid, 'It was all as one, my huſband had a right to whatever I had.'
"'At laſt he liſted for a ſoldier, and I took a houſe, making an agreement to pay for the furniture by degrees; and I almoſt ſtarved myſelf, till I once more got before-hand in the world.
"'After an abſence of ſix years (God forgive me! I thought he was dead) my huſband returned; found me out, and came with ſuch a penitent face, I forgave him, and clothed him from head to foot. But he had not been a week in the houſe, before ſome of his creditors arreſted him; and, he ſelling my goods, I found myſelf once more reduced to beggary; for I was not as well able to work, go to bed late, and riſe early, as when I quitted ſervice; and then I thought it hardenough. He was ſoon tired of me, when there was nothing more to be had, and left me again.
"'I will not tell you how I was buffeted about, till, hearing for certain that he had died in an hoſpital abroad, I once more returned to my old occupation; but have not yet been able to get my head above water: ſo, madam, you muſt not be angry if I am afraid to run any riſk, when I know ſo well, that women have always the worſt of it, when law is to decide.'
"After uttering a few more complaints, I prevailed on my landlady to go out in queſt of a lodging; and, to be more ſecure, I condeſcended to the mean ſhift of changing my name.
"But why ſhould I dwell on ſimilar incidents!—I was hunted, like an infected beaſt, from three different apartments, and ſhould not have been allowed to reſt in any, had not Mr. Venables, informed of my uncle's dangerous ſtate of health, been inſpired with the fear of hurrying me out of the world as I advanced in my pregnancy, by thus tormenting and obliging me to take ſudden journeys to avoid him; and then his ſpeculations on my uncle's fortune muſt prove abortive.
"One day, when he had purſued me to an inn, I fainted, hurrying from him; and, falling down, the ſight of my blood alarmed him, and obtained a reſpite for me. It is ſtrange that he ſhould have retained any hope, after obſerving my unwavering determination; but, from the mildneſs of my behaviour, when I found all my endeavours to change his diſpoſition unavailing, he formed an erroneous opinion of my character, imagining that, were we once more together, I ſhould part with the money hecould not legally force from me, with the ſame facility as formerly. My forbearance and occaſional ſympathy he had miſtaken for weakneſs of character; and, becauſe he perceived that I diſliked reſiſtance, he thought my indulgence and compaſſion mere ſelfiſhneſs, and never diſcovered that the fear of being unjuſt, or of unneceſſarily wounding the feelings of another, was much more painful to me, than any thing I could have to endure myſelf. Perhaps it was pride which made me imagine, that I could bear what I dreaded to inflict; and that it was often eaſier to ſuffer, than to ſee the ſufferings of others.
"I forgot to mention that, during this perſecution, I received a letter from my uncle, informing me, 'that he only found relief from continual change of air; and that he intended toreturn when the ſpring was a little more advanced (it was now the middle of February), and then we would plan a journey to Italy, leaving the fogs and cares of England far behind.' He approved of my conduct, promiſed to adopt my child, and ſeemed to have no doubt of obliging Mr. Venables to hear reaſon. He wrote to his friend, by the ſame poſt, deſiring him to call on Mr. Venables in his name; and, in conſequence of the remonſtrances he dictated, I was permitted to lie-in tranquilly.
"The two or three weeks previous, I had been allowed to reſt in peace; but, ſo accuſtomed was I to purſuit and alarm, that I ſeldom cloſed my eyes without being haunted by Mr. Venables' image, who ſeemed to aſſume terrific or hateful forms to torment me, whereverI turned.—Sometimes a wild cat, a roaring bull, or hideous aſſaſſin, whom I vainly attempted to fly; at others he was a demon, hurrying me to the brink of a precipice, plunging me into dark waves, or horrid gulfs; and I woke, in violent fits of trembling anxiety, to aſſure myſelf that it was all a dream, and to endeavour to lure my waking thoughts to wander to the delightful Italian vales, I hoped ſoon to viſit; or to picture ſome auguſt ruins, where I reclined in fancy on a mouldering column, and eſcaped, in the contemplation of the heart-enlarging virtues of antiquity, from the turmoil of cares that had depreſſed all the daring purpoſes of my ſoul. But I was not long allowed to calm my mind by the exerciſe of my imagination; for the third day after your birth, my child, I wasſurpriſed by a viſit from my elder brother; who came in the moſt abrupt manner, to inform me of the death of my uncle. He had left the greater part of his fortune to my child, appointing me its guardian; in ſhort, every ſtep was taken to enable me to be miſtreſs of his fortune, without putting any part of it in Mr. Venables' power. My brother came to vent his rage on me, for having, as he expreſſed himſelf, 'deprived him, my uncle's eldeſt nephew, of his inheritance;' though my uncle's property, the fruit of his own exertion, being all in the funds, or on landed ſecurities, there was not a ſhadow of juſtice in the charge.
"As I ſincerely loved my uncle, this intelligence brought on a fever, which I ſtruggled to conquer with all theenergy of my mind; for, in my deſolate ſtate, I had it very much at heart to ſuckle you, my poor babe. You ſeemed my only tie to life, a cherub, to whom I wiſhed to be a father, as well as a mother; and the double duty appeared to me to produce a proportionate increaſe of affection. But the pleaſure I felt, while ſuſtaining you, ſnatched from the wreck of hope, was cruelly damped by melancholy reflections on my widowed ſtate—widowed by the death of my uncle. Of Mr. Venables I thought not, even when I thought of the felicity of loving your father, and how a mother's pleaſure might be exalted, and her care ſoftened by a huſband's tenderneſs.—'Ought to be!' I exclaimed; and I endeavoured to drive away the tenderneſs that ſuffocated me; but my ſpirits were weak, and the unbidden tears would flow. 'Why was I,' I would aſk thee, but thou didſt not heed me,—'cut off from the participation of the ſweeteſt pleaſure of life?' I imagined with what extacy, after the pains of child-bed, I ſhould have preſented my little ſtranger, whom I had ſo long wiſhed to view, to a reſpectable father, and with what maternal fondneſs I ſhould have preſſed them both to my heart!—Now I kiſſed her with leſs delight, though with the moſt endearing compaſſion, poor helpleſs one! when I perceived a ſlight reſemblance of him, to whom ſhe owed her exiſtence; or, if any geſture reminded me of him, even in his beſt days, my heart heaved, and I preſſed the innocent to my boſom, as if topurify it—yes, I bluſhed to think that its purity had been ſullied, by allowing ſuch a man to be its father.
"After my recovery, I began to think of taking a houſe in the country, or of making an excurſion on the continent, to avoid Mr. Venables; and to open my heart to new pleaſures and affection. The ſpring was melting into ſummer, and you, my little companion, began to ſmile—that ſmile made hope bud out afreſh, aſſuring me the world was not a deſert. Your geſtures were ever preſent to my fancy; and I dwelt on the joy I ſhould feel when you would begin to walk and liſp. Watching your wakening mind, and ſhielding from every rude blaſt my tender bloſſom, I recovered my ſpirits—I dreamed not of the froſt—'the killing froſt,' to which you were deſtined to be expoſed.—But I loſe all patience—and execrate the injuſtice of the world—folly! ignorance!—I ſhould rather call it; but, ſhut up from a free circulation of thought, and always pondering on the ſame griefs, I writhe under the torturing apprehenſions, which ought to excite only honeſt indignation, or active compaſſion; and would, could I view them as the natural conſequence of things. But, born a woman—and born to ſuffer, in endeavouring to repreſs my own emotions, I feel more acutely the various ills my ſex are fated to bear—I feel that the evils they are ſubject to endure, degrade them ſo far below their oppreſſors, as almoſt to juſtify their tyranny; leading at the ſametime ſuperficial reaſoners to term that weakneſs the cauſe, which is only the conſequence of ſhort-ſighted deſpotiſm.
FOOTNOTES:[91-A]The introduction of Darnford as the deliverer of Maria, in an early ſtage of the hiſtory, is already ſtated (Chap. III.) to have been an after-thought of the author. This has probably cauſed the imperfectneſs of the manuſcript in the above paſſage; though, at the ſame time, it muſt be acknowledged to be ſomewhat uncertain, whether Darnford is the ſtranger intended in this place. It appears from Chap. XVII. that an interference of a more deciſive nature was deſigned to be attributed to him.editor.
[91-A]The introduction of Darnford as the deliverer of Maria, in an early ſtage of the hiſtory, is already ſtated (Chap. III.) to have been an after-thought of the author. This has probably cauſed the imperfectneſs of the manuſcript in the above paſſage; though, at the ſame time, it muſt be acknowledged to be ſomewhat uncertain, whether Darnford is the ſtranger intended in this place. It appears from Chap. XVII. that an interference of a more deciſive nature was deſigned to be attributed to him.editor.
[91-A]The introduction of Darnford as the deliverer of Maria, in an early ſtage of the hiſtory, is already ſtated (Chap. III.) to have been an after-thought of the author. This has probably cauſed the imperfectneſs of the manuſcript in the above paſſage; though, at the ſame time, it muſt be acknowledged to be ſomewhat uncertain, whether Darnford is the ſtranger intended in this place. It appears from Chap. XVII. that an interference of a more deciſive nature was deſigned to be attributed to him.
editor.
"Asmy mind grew calmer, the viſions of Italy again returned with their former glow of colouring; and I reſolved on quitting the kingdom for a time, in ſearch of the cheerfulneſs, that naturally reſults from a change of ſcene, unleſs we carry the barbed arrow with us, and only ſee what we feel.
"During the period neceſſary to prepare for a long abſence, I ſent a ſupply to pay my father's debts, and ſettled my brothers in eligible ſituations; but my attention was not wholly engroſſed by my family, though I do not think it neceſſary to enumerate the common exertions of humanity. The manner in which my uncle's property was ſettled, prevented me from making the addition to the fortune of my ſurviving ſiſter, that I could have wiſhed; but I had prevailed on him to bequeath her two thouſand pounds, and ſhe determined to marry a lover, to whom ſhe had been ſome time attached. Had it not been for this engagement, I ſhould have invited her to accompany me in my tour; and I might have eſcaped the pit, ſo artfully dug in my path, when I was the leaſt aware of danger.
"I had thought of remaining in England, till I weaned my child; but this ſtate of freedom was too peaceful to laſt, and I had ſoon reaſon to wiſh to haſten my departure. A friend of Mr. Venables, the ſame attorney who had accompanied him in ſeveral excurſions to hunt me from my hiding places, waited on me to propoſe a reconciliation. On my refuſal, he indirectly adviſed me to make over to my huſband—for huſband he would term him—the greater part of the property I had at command, menacing me with continual perſecution unleſs I complied, and that, as a laſt reſort, he would claim the child. I did not, though intimidated by the laſt inſinuation, ſcruple to declare, that I would not allow him to ſquander the money left to me for far different purpoſes, but offered him five hundred pounds, if he would ſign a bond not to torment me any more. My maternal anxiety made me thus appear to waver from my firſt determination, and probably ſuggeſted to him, or his diabolicalagent, the infernal plot, which has ſucceeded but too well.
"The bond was executed; ſtill I was impatient to leave England. Miſchief hung in the air when we breathed the ſame; I wanted ſeas to divide us, and waters to roll between, till he had forgotten that I had the means of helping him through a new ſcheme. Diſturbed by the late occurrences, I inſtantly prepared for my departure. My only delay was waiting for a maid-ſervant, who ſpoke French fluently, and had been warmly recommended to me. A valet I was adviſed to hire, when I fixed on my place of reſidence for any time.
"My God, with what a light heart did I ſet out for Dover!—It was not my country, but my cares, that I was leaving behind. My heart ſeemed tobound with the wheels, or rather appeared the centre on which they twirled. I claſped you to my boſom, exclaiming 'And you will be ſafe—quite ſafe—when—we are once on board the packet.—Would we were there!' I ſmiled at my idle fears, as the natural effect of continual alarm; and I ſcarcely owned to myſelf that I dreaded Mr. Venables's cunning, or was conſcious of the horrid delight he would feel, at forming ſtratagem after ſtratagem to circumvent me. I was already in the ſnare—I never reached the packet—I never ſaw thee more.—I grow breathleſs. I have ſcarcely patience to write down the details. The maid—the plauſible woman I had hired—put, doubtleſs, ſome ſtupifying potion in what I ate or drank, the morning I left town. All I know is,that ſhe muſt have quitted the chaiſe, ſhameleſs wretch! and taken (from my breaſt) my babe with her. How could a creature in a female form ſee me careſs thee, and ſteal thee from my arms! I muſt ſtop, ſtop to repreſs a mother's anguiſh; left, in bitterneſs of ſoul, I imprecate the wrath of heaven on this tiger, who tore my only comfort from me.
"How long I ſlept I know not; certainly many hours, for I woke at the cloſe of day, in a ſtrange confuſion of thought. I was probably rouſed to recollection by ſome one thundering at a huge, unwieldy gate. Attempting to aſk where I was, my voice died away, and I tried to raiſe it in vain, as I have done in a dream. I looked for my babe with affright; feared that it had fallen out of my lap, while I had ſo ſtrangely forgotten her; and, ſuch was the vague intoxication, I can give it no other name, in which I was plunged, I could not recollect when or where I laſt ſaw you; but I ſighed, as if my heart wanted room to clear my head.
"The gates opened heavily, and the ſullen ſound of many locksandbolts drawn back, grated on my very ſoul, before I was appalled by the creeking of the diſmal hinges, as they cloſed after me. The gloomy pile was before me, half in ruins; ſome of the aged trees of the avenue were cut down, and left to rot where they fell; and as we approached ſome mouldering ſteps, a monſtrous dog darted forwards to the length of his chain, and barked and growled infernally.
"The door was opened ſlowly, anda murderous viſage peeped out, with a lantern. 'Huſh!' he uttered, in a threatning tone, and the affrighted animal ſtole back to his kennel. The door of the chaiſe flew back, the ſtranger put down the lantern, and claſped his dreadful arms around me. It was certainly the effect of the ſoporific draught, for, inſtead of exerting my ſtrength, I ſunk without motion, though not without ſenſe, on his ſhoulder, my limbs refuſing to obey my will. I was carried up the ſteps into a cloſe-ſhut hall. A candle flaring in the ſocket, ſcarcely diſperſed the darkneſs, though it diſplayed to me the ferocious countenance of the wretch who held me.
"He mounted a wide ſtaircaſe. Large figures painted on the walls ſeemed to ſtart on me, and glaringeyes to meet me at every turn. Entering a long gallery, a diſmal ſhriek made me ſpring out of my conductor's arms, with I know not what myſterious emotion of terror; but I fell on the floor, unable to ſuſtain myſelf.
"A ſtrange-looking female ſtarted out of one of the receſſes, and obſerved me with more curioſity than intereſt; till, ſternly bid retire, ſhe flitted back like a ſhadow. Other faces, ſtrongly marked, or diſtorted, peeped through the half-opened doors, and I heard ſome incoherent ſounds. I had no diſtinct idea where I could be—I looked on all ſides, and almoſt doubted whether I was alive or dead.
"Thrown on a bed, I immediately ſunk into inſenſibility again; and next day, gradually recovering the uſe of reaſon, I began, ſtarting affrightedfrom the conviction, to diſcover where I was confined—I inſiſted on ſeeing the maſter of the manſion—I ſaw him—and perceived that I was buried alive.—
"Such, my child, are the events of thy mother's life to this dreadful moment—Should ſhe ever eſcape from the fangs of her enemies, ſhe will add the ſecrets of her priſon-houſe—and—"
Some lines were here croſſed out, and the memoirs broke off abruptly with the names of Jemima and Darnford.
Theperformance, with a fragment of which the reader has now been preſented, was deſigned to conſiſt of three parts. The preceding ſheets were conſidered as conſtituting one of thoſe parts. Thoſe perſons who in the peruſal of the chapters, already written and in ſome degree finiſhed by the author, have felt their hearts awakened, and their curioſity excited as to the ſequel of the ſtory, will, of courſe, gladly accept even of the broken paragraphs and half-finiſhed ſentences, which have been found committed to paper, as materials for the remainder. The faſtidious and cold-hearted critic may perhaps feel himſelf repelled by the incoherent form in which they are preſented. But an inquiſitive temper willingly accepts the moſt imperfect and mutilated information, where better is not to be had: and readers, who in any degree reſemble the author in her quick apprehenſion of ſentiment, and of thepleaſures and pains of imagination, will, I believe, find gratification, in contemplating ſketches, which were deſigned in a ſhort time to have received the finiſhing touches of her genius; but which muſt now for ever remain a mark to record the triumphs of mortality, over ſchemes of uſefulneſs, and projects of public intereſt.]
Darnfordreturned the memoirs to Maria, with a moſt affectionate letter, in which he reaſoned on "the abſurdity of the laws reſpecting matrimony, which, till divorces could be more eaſily obtained, was," he declared, "the moſt inſufferable bondage. Ties of this nature could not bind minds governed by ſuperior principles; and ſuch beings were privileged to act above the dictates of laws they had no voice in framing, if they had ſufficient ſtrength of mind to endure the natural conſequence. In her caſe, to talk of duty, was a farce, excepting what was due to herſelf. Delicacy, as well as reaſon, forbade her ever to think of returningto her huſband: was ſhe then to reſtrain her charming ſenſibility through mere prejudice? Theſe arguments were not abſolutely impartial, for he diſdained to conceal, that, when he appealed to her reaſon, he felt that he had ſome intereſt in her heart.—The conviction was not more tranſporting, than ſacred—a thouſand times a day, he aſked himſelf how he had merited ſuch happineſs?—and as often he determined to purify the heart ſhe deigned to inhabit—He intreated to be again admitted to her preſence."
He was; and the tear which gliſtened in his eye, when he reſpectfully preſſed her to his boſom, rendered him peculiarly dear to the unfortunate mother. Grief had ſtilled the tranſports of love, only to render their mutual tenderneſs more touching. In formerinterviews, Darnford had contrived, by a hundred little pretexts, to ſit near her, to take her hand, or to meet her eyes—now it was all ſoothing affection, and eſteem ſeemed to have rivalled love. He adverted to her narrative, and ſpoke with warmth of the oppreſſion ſhe had endured.—His eyes, glowing with a lambent flame, told her how much he wiſhed to reſtore her to liberty and love; but he kiſſed her hand, as if it had been that of a ſaint; and ſpoke of the loſs of her child, as if it had been his own.—What could have been more flattering to Maria?—Every inſtance of ſelf-denial was regiſtered in her heart, and ſhe loved him, for loving her too well to give way to the tranſports of paſſion.
They met again and again; and Darnford declared, while paſſion ſuffuſed his cheeks, that he never before knew what it was to love.—
One morning Jemima informed Maria, that her maſter intended to wait on her, and ſpeak to her without witneſſes. He came, and brought a letter with him, pretending that he was ignorant of its contents, though he inſiſted on having it returned to him. It was from the attorney already mentioned, who informed her of the death of her child, and hinted, "that ſhe could not now have a legitimate heir, and that, would ſhe make over the half of her fortune during life, ſhe ſhould be conveyed to Dover, and permitted to purſue her plan of travelling."
Maria anſwered with warmth, "That ſhe had no terms to make with the murderer of her babe, nor wouldſhe purchaſe liberty at the price of her own reſpect."
She began to expoſtulate with her jailor; but he ſternly bade her "Be ſilent—he had not gone ſo far, not to go further."
Darnford came in the evening. Jemima was obliged to be abſent, and ſhe, as uſual, locked the door on them, to prevent interruption or diſcovery.—The lovers were, at firſt, embarraſſed; but fell inſenſibly into confidential diſcourſe. Darnford repreſented, "that they might ſoon be parted," and wiſhed her "to put it out of the power of fate to ſeparate them."
As her huſband ſhe now received him, and he ſolemnly pledged himſelf as her protector—and eternal friend.—
There was one peculiarity in Maria's mind: ſhe was more anxious not to deceive, than to guard againſt deception; and had rather truſt without ſufficient reaſon, than be for ever the prey of doubt. Beſides, what are we, when the mind has, from reflection, a certain kind of elevation, which exalts the contemplation above the little concerns of prudence! We ſee what we wiſh, and make a world of our own—and, though reality may ſometimes open a door to miſery, yet the moments of happineſs procured by the imagination, may, without a paradox, be reckoned among the ſolid comforts of life. Maria now, imagining that ſhe had found a being of celeſtial mould—was happy,—nor was ſhe deceived.—He was then plaſtic in her impaſſioned hand—and reflected all the ſentiments which animated and warmed her. — — — —
— — — — — — — — — — —
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Onemorning confuſion ſeemed to reign in the houſe, and Jemima came in terror, to inform Maria, "that her maſter had left it, with a determination, ſhe was aſſured (and too many circumſtances corroborated the opinion, to leave a doubt of its truth) of never returning. I am prepared then," ſaid Jemima, "to accompany you in your flight."
Maria ſtarted up, her eyes darting towards the door, as if afraid that ſome one ſhould faſten it on her for ever.
Jemima continued, "I have perhaps no right now to expect the performance of your promiſe; but on youit depends to reconcile me with the human race."
"But Darnford!"—exclaimed Maria, mournfully—ſitting down again, and croſſing her arms—"I have no child to go to, and liberty has loſt its ſweets."
"I am much miſtaken, if Darnford is not the cauſe of my maſter's flight—his keepers aſſure me, that they have promiſed to confine him two days longer, and then he will be free—you cannot ſee him; but they will give a letter to him the moment he is free.—In that inform him where he may find you in London; fix on ſome hotel. Give me your clothes; I will ſend them out of the houſe with mine, and we will ſlip out at the garden-gate. Write your letter while I make theſe arrangements, but loſe no time!"
In an agitation of ſpirit, not to be calmed, Maria began to write to Darnford. She called him by the ſacred name of "huſband," and bade him "haſten to her, to ſhare her fortune, or ſhe would return to him."—An hotel in the Adelphi was the place of rendezvous.
The letter was ſealed and given in charge; and with light footſteps, yet terrified at the ſound of them, ſhe deſcended, ſcarcely breathing, and with an indiſtinct fear that ſhe ſhould never get out at the garden gate. Jemima went firſt.
A being, with a viſage that would have ſuited one poſſeſſed by a devil, croſſed the path, and ſeized Maria by the arm. Maria had no fear but of being detained—"Who are you? what are you?" for the form was ſcarcely human. "If you are made of fleſh andblood," his ghaſtly eyes glared on her, "do not ſtop me!"
"Woman," interrupted a ſepulchral voice, "what have I to do with thee?"—Still he graſped her hand, muttering a curſe.
"No, no; you have nothing to do with me," ſhe exclaimed, "this is a moment of life and death!"—
With ſupernatural force ſhe broke from him, and, throwing her arms round Jemima, cried, "Save me!" The being, from whoſe graſp ſhe had looſed herſelf, took up a ſtone as they opened the door, and with a kind of helliſh ſport threw it after them. They were out of his reach.
When Maria arrived in town, ſhe drove to the hotel already fixed on. But ſhe could not ſit ſtill—her child was ever before her; and all that had paſſed during her confinement, appeared to be a dream. She went to the houſe in the ſuburbs, where, as ſhe now diſcovered, her babe had been ſent. The moment ſhe entered, her heart grew ſick; but ſhe wondered not that it had proved its grave. She made the neceſſary enquiries, and the church-yard was pointed out, in which it reſted under a turf. A little frock which the nurſe's child wore (Maria had made it herſelf) caught her eye. The nurſe was glad to ſell it for half-a-guinea, and Maria haſtened away with the relic, and, re-entering the hackney-coach which waited for her, gazed on it, till ſhe reached her hotel.
She then waited on the attorney who had made her uncle's will, and explained to him her ſituation. He readily advanced her ſome of the moneywhich ſtill remained in his hands, and promiſed to take the whole of the caſe into conſideration. Maria only wiſhed to be permitted to remain in quiet—She found that ſeveral bills, apparently with her ſignature, had been preſented to her agent, nor was ſhe for a moment at a loſs to gueſs by whom they had been forged; yet, equally averſe to threaten or intreat, ſhe requeſted her friend [the ſolicitor] to call on Mr. Venables. He was not to be found at home; but at length his agent, the attorney, offered a conditional promiſe to Maria, to leave her in peace, as long as ſhe behaved with propriety, if ſhe would give up the notes. Maria inconſiderately conſented—Darnford was arrived, and ſhe wiſhed to be only alive to love; ſhe wiſhed to forget the anguiſh ſhe felt whenever ſhe thought of her child.
They took a ready furniſhed lodging together, for ſhe was above diſguiſe; Jemima inſiſting on being conſidered as her houſe-keeper, and to receive the cuſtomary ſtipend. On no other terms would ſhe remain with her friend.
Darnford was indefatigable in tracing the myſterious circumſtances of his confinement. The cauſe was ſimply, that a relation, a very diſtant one, to whom he was heir, had died inteſtate, leaving a conſiderable fortune. On the news of Darnford's arrival [in England, a perſon, intruſted with the management of the property, and who had the writings in his poſſeſſion, determining, by one bold ſtroke, to ſtrip Darnford of the ſucceſſion,] had planned his confinement; and [as ſoon as he had taken the meaſures hejudged moſt conducive to his object, this ruffian, together with his inſtrument,] the keeper of the private mad-houſe, left the kingdom. Darnford, who ſtill purſued his enquiries, at laſt diſcovered that they had fixed their place of refuge at Paris.
Maria and he determined therefore, with the faithful Jemima, to viſit that metropolis, and accordingly were preparing for the journey, when they were informed that Mr. Venables had commenced an action againſt Darnford for ſeduction and adultery. The indignation Maria felt cannot be explained; ſhe repented of the forbearance ſhe had exerciſed in giving up the notes. Darnford could not put off his journey, without riſking the loſs of his property: Maria therefore furniſhed him with money for his expedition; and determinedto remain in London till the termination of this affair.
She viſited ſome ladies with whom ſhe had formerly been intimate, but was refuſed admittance; and at the opera, or Ranelagh, they could not recollect her. Among theſe ladies there were ſome, not her moſt intimate acquaintance, who were generally ſuppoſed to avail themſelves of the cloke of marriage, to conceal a mode of conduct, that would for ever have damned their fame, had they been innocent, ſeduced girls. Theſe particularly ſtood aloof.—Had ſhe remained with her huſband, practiſing inſincerity, and neglecting her child to manage an intrigue, ſhe would ſtill have been viſited and reſpected. If, inſtead of openly living with her lover, ſhe could have condeſcended to call into play athouſand arts, which, degrading her own mind, might have allowed the people who were not deceived, to pretend to be ſo, ſhe would have been careſſed and treated like an honourable woman. "And Brutus[138-A]is an honourable man!" ſaid Mark-Antony with equal ſincerity.
With Darnford ſhe did not taſte uninterrupted felicity; there was a volatility in his manner which often diſtreſſed her; but love gladdened the ſcene; beſides, he was the moſt tender, ſympathizing creature in the world. A fondneſs for the ſex often gives an appearance of humanity to the behaviour of men, who have ſmall pretenſions to the reality; and they ſeem tolove others, when they are only purſuing their own gratification. Darnford appeared ever willing to avail himſelf of her taſte and acquirements, while ſhe endeavoured to profit by his deciſion of character, and to eradicate ſome of the romantic notions, which had taken root in her mind, while in adverſity ſhe had brooded over viſions of unattainable bliſs.
The real affections of life, when they are allowed to burſt forth, are buds pregnant with joy and all the ſweet emotions of the ſoul; yet they branch out with wild eaſe, unlike the artificial forms of felicity, ſketched by an imagination painful alive. The ſubſtantial happineſs, which enlarges and civilizes the mind, may be compared to the pleaſure experienced in roving through nature at large, inhaling theſweet gale natural to the clime; while the reveries of a feveriſh imagination continually ſport themſelves in gardens full of aromatic ſhrubs, which cloy while they delight, and weaken the ſenſe of pleaſure they gratify. The heaven of fancy, below or beyond the ſtars, in this life, or in thoſe ever-ſmiling regions ſurrounded by the unmarked ocean of futurity, have an inſipid uniformity which palls. Poets have imagined ſcenes of bliſs; but, fencing out ſorrow, all the extatic emotions of the ſoul, and even its grandeur, ſeem to be equally excluded. We doſe over the unruffled lake, and long to ſcale the rocks which fence the happy valley of contentment, though ſerpents hiſs in the pathleſs deſert, and danger lurks in the unexplored wiles. Maria found herſelf more indulgent as ſhe was happier, and diſcovered virtues, in characters ſhe had before diſregarded, while chaſing the phantoms of elegance and excellence, which ſported in the meteors that exhale in the marſhes of miſfortune. The heart is often ſhut by romance againſt ſocial pleaſure; and, foſtering a ſickly ſenſibility, grows callous to the ſoft touches of humanity.
To part with Darnford was indeed cruel.—It was to feel moſt painfully alone; but ſhe rejoiced to think, that ſhe ſhould ſpare him the care and perplexity of the ſuit, and meet him again, all his own. Marriage, as at preſent conſtituted, ſhe conſidered as leading to immorality—yet, as the odium of ſociety impedes uſefulneſs, ſhe wiſhed to avow her affection to Darnford, by becoming his wife according to eſtabliſhed rules; not to be confoundedwith women who act from very different motives, though her conduct would be juſt the ſame without the ceremony as with it, and her expectations from him not leſs firm. The being ſummoned to defend herſelf from a charge which ſhe was determined to plead guilty to, was ſtill galling, as it rouſed bitter reflections on the ſituation of women in ſociety.