FOOTNOTES:[114-A]The copy which appears to have received the author's laſt corrections, ends at this place.
[114-A]The copy which appears to have received the author's laſt corrections, ends at this place.
[114-A]The copy which appears to have received the author's laſt corrections, ends at this place.
Activeas 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 ownbabe 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 nameof 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 anxiouſlycounted 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 anguiſhwhich the circumſtances ſcarcely juſtified.
Continually on the watch, the ſhutting of a door, or the ſound of a footſtep, 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 henceforth 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.
"Addreſſingtheſe 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 bravecenſure 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 ſheſhrieks, 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 new-born 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 fire-ſide, 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 cold-blooded moraliſts, make you endeavour to ſtifle hopes, which are the buds that naturally unfold themſelves during the ſpring of life! Whilſt your own heartis 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 forciblemanner 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 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 thecoſtly 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 ſoncould 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 thenotice 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, andtherefore 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-India 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 keepinga 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, whenJacky 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 thepapawas 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 itpleaſedProvidence 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 hemaintained 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 metill 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. Afterſeveral 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 haveperhaps 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 onher 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 couldhardly 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 laſtgraſp 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 conſequenttenderneſs 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, andmy 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 formeroccaſional 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 intothe 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 juſtlypoized, 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?