diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/2049.txt | 3414 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/2049.zip | bin | 0 -> 72204 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/nwpyg10.txt | 3320 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/nwpyg10.zip | bin | 0 -> 70133 bytes |
4 files changed, 6734 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/2049.txt b/old/2049.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff6247d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2049.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3414 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Liber Amoris, or, The New Pygmalion, by William Hazlitt + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Liber Amoris, or, The New Pygmalion + +Author: William Hazlitt + +Posting Date: January 29, 2009 [EBook #2049] +Release Date: January, 2000 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIBER AMORIS, NEW PYGMALION *** + + + + +Produced by Christopher Hapka. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + +LIBER AMORIS, OR, THE NEW PYGMALION + + +by + +WILLIAM HAZLITT + + + + +ADVERTISEMENT + + +The circumstances, an outline of which is given in these pages, happened +a very short time ago to a native of North Britain, who left his own +country early in life, in consequence of political animosities and an +ill-advised connection in marriage. It was some years after that he +formed the fatal attachment which is the subject of the following +narrative. The whole was transcribed very carefully with his own hand, +a little before he set out for the Continent in hopes of benefiting by a +change of scene, but he died soon after in the Netherlands--it is +supposed, of disappointment preying on a sickly frame and morbid state +of mind. It was his wish that what had been his strongest feeling while +living, should be preserved in this shape when he was no more.--It has +been suggested to the friend, into whose hands the manuscript was +entrusted, that many things (particularly in the Conversations in the +First Part) either childish or redundant, might have been omitted; but a +promise was given that not a word should be altered, and the pledge was +held sacred. The names and circumstances are so far disguised, it is +presumed, as to prevent any consequences resulting from the publication, +farther than the amusement or sympathy of the reader. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PART I + +THE PICTURE +THE INVITATION +THE MESSAGE +THE FLAGEOLET +THE CONFESSION +THE QUARREL +THE RECONCILIATION + +LETTERS TO THE SAME +TO THE SAME +WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF ENDYMION +A PROPOSAL OF LOVE + + + +PART II + +LETTERS TO C. P.----, ESQ. +LETTER II +LETTER III +LETTER IV +LETTER V +LETTER VI +LETTER VII +LETTER VIII +TO EDINBURGH +A THOUGHT +ANOTHER +ANOTHER +LETTER IX +LETTER X +LETTER XI +TO S. L. +LETTER XII. +UNALTERED LOVE +PERFECT LOVE +FROM C. P., ESQ. +LETTER XIII +LETTER THE LAST + + + +PART III + +ADDRESSED TO J. S. K.---- +TO THE SAME (In continuation) +TO THE SAME (In conclusion) + + + + +PART I + + +THE PICTURE + + +H. Oh! is it you? I had something to shew you--I have got a picture +here. Do you know any one it's like? + +S. No, Sir. + +H. Don't you think it like yourself? + +S. No: it's much handsomer than I can pretend to be. + +H. That's because you don't see yourself with the same eyes that others +do. I don't think it handsomer, and the expression is hardly so fine as +yours sometimes is. + +S. Now you flatter me. Besides, the complexion is fair, and mine is +dark. + +H. Thine is pale and beautiful, my love, not dark! But if your colour +were a little heightened, and you wore the same dress, and your hair +were let down over your shoulders, as it is here, it might be taken for +a picture of you. Look here, only see how like it is. The forehead is +like, with that little obstinate protrusion in the middle; the eyebrows +are like, and the eyes are just like yours, when you look up and +say--"No--never!" + +S. What then, do I always say--"No--never!" when I look up? + +H. I don't know about that--I never heard you say so but once; but that +was once too often for my peace. It was when you told me, "you could +never be mine." Ah! if you are never to be mine, I shall not long be +myself. I cannot go on as I am. My faculties leave me: I think of +nothing, I have no feeling about any thing but thee: thy sweet image has +taken possession of me, haunts me, and will drive me to distraction. +Yet I could almost wish to go mad for thy sake: for then I might fancy +that I had thy love in return, which I cannot live without! + +S. Do not, I beg, talk in that manner, but tell me what this is a +picture of. + +H. I hardly know; but it is a very small and delicate copy (painted in +oil on a gold ground) of some fine old Italian picture, Guido's or +Raphael's, but I think Raphael's. Some say it is a Madonna; others call +it a Magdalen, and say you may distinguish the tear upon the cheek, +though no tear is there. But it seems to me more like Raphael's St. +Cecilia, "with looks commercing with the skies," than anything +else.--See, Sarah, how beautiful it is! Ah! dear girl, these are the +ideas I have cherished in my heart, and in my brain; and I never found +any thing to realise them on earth till I met with thee, my love! While +thou didst seem sensible of my kindness, I was but too happy: but now +thou hast cruelly cast me off. + +S. You have no reason to say so: you are the same to me as ever. + +H. That is, nothing. You are to me everything, and I am nothing to +you. Is it not too true? + +S. No. + +H. Then kiss me, my sweetest. Oh! could you see your face now--your +mouth full of suppressed sensibility, your downcast eyes, the soft blush +upon that cheek, you would not say the picture is not like because it is +too handsome, or because you want complexion. Thou art heavenly-fair, +my love--like her from whom the picture was taken--the idol of the +painter's heart, as thou art of mine! Shall I make a drawing of it, +altering the dress a little, to shew you how like it is? + +S. As you please.-- + + + + +THE INVITATION + + +H. But I am afraid I tire you with this prosing description of the +French character and abuse of the English? You know there is but one +subject on which I should ever wish to talk, if you would let me. + +S. I must say, you don't seem to have a very high opinion of this +country. + +H. Yes, it is the place that gave you birth. + +S. Do you like the French women better than the English? + +H. No: though they have finer eyes, talk better, and are better made. +But they none of them look like you. I like the Italian women I have +seen, much better than the French: they have darker eyes, darker hair, +and the accents of their native tongue are much richer and more +melodious. But I will give you a better account of them when I come +back from Italy, if you would like to hear it. + +S. I should much. It is for that I have sometimes had a wish for +travelling abroad, to understand something of the manners and characters +of different people. + +H. My sweet girl! I will give you the best account I can--unless you +would rather go and judge for yourself. + +S. I cannot. + +H. Yes, you shall go with me, and you shall go WITH HONOUR--you know +what I mean. + +S. You know it is not in your power to take me so. + +H. But it soon may: and if you would consent to bear me company, I +would swear never to think of an Italian woman while I am abroad, nor of +an English one after I return home. Thou art to me more than thy whole +sex. + +S. I require no such sacrifices. + +H. Is that what you thought I meant by SACRIFICES last night? But +sacrifices are no sacrifices when they are repaid a thousand fold. + +S. I have no way of doing it. + +H. You have not the will.-- + +S. I must go now. + +H. Stay, and hear me a little. I shall soon be where I can no more +hear thy voice, far distant from her I love, to see what change of +climate and bright skies will do for a sad heart. I shall perhaps see +thee no more, but I shall still think of thee the same as ever--I shall +say to myself, "Where is she now?--what is she doing?" But I shall +hardly wish you to think of me, unless you could do so more favourably +than I am afraid you will. Ah! dearest creature, I shall be "far +distant from you," as you once said of another, but you will not think +of me as of him, "with the sincerest affection." The smallest share of +thy tenderness would make me blest; but couldst thou ever love me as +thou didst him, I should feel like a God! My face would change to a +different expression: my whole form would undergo alteration. I was +getting well, I was growing young in the sweet proofs of your +friendship: you see how I droop and wither under your displeasure! Thou +art divine, my love, and canst make me either more or less than mortal. +Indeed I am thy creature, thy slave--I only wish to live for your +sake--I would gladly die for you-- + +S. That would give me no pleasure. But indeed you greatly overrate my +power. + +H. Your power over me is that of sovereign grace and beauty. When I am +near thee, nothing can harm me. Thou art an angel of light, shadowing +me with thy softness. But when I let go thy hand, I stagger on a +precipice: out of thy sight the world is dark to me and comfortless. +There is no breathing out of this house: the air of Italy will stifle +me. Go with me and lighten it. I can know no pleasure away from thee-- + +"But I will come again, my love, An' it were ten thousand mile!" + + + + +THE MESSAGE + + +S. Mrs. E---- has called for the book, Sir. + +H. Oh! it is there. Let her wait a minute or two. I see this is a +busy-day with you. How beautiful your arms look in those short sleeves! + +S. I do not like to wear them. + +H. Then that is because you are merciful, and would spare frail mortals +who might die with gazing. + +S. I have no power to kill. + +H. You have, you have--Your charms are irresistible as your will is +inexorable. I wish I could see you always thus. But I would have no +one else see you so. I am jealous of all eyes but my own. I should +almost like you to wear a veil, and to be muffled up from head to foot; +but even if you were, and not a glimpse of you could be seen, it would +be to no purpose--you would only have to move, and you would be admired +as the most graceful creature in the world. You smile--Well, if you +were to be won by fine speeches-- + +S. You could supply them! + +H. It is however no laughing matter with me; thy beauty kills me daily, +and I shall think of nothing but thy charms, till the last word trembles +on my tongue, and that will be thy name, my love--the name of my +Infelice! You will live by that name, you rogue, fifty years after you +are dead. Don't you thank me for that? + +S. I have no such ambition, Sir. But Mrs. E---- is waiting. + +H. She is not in love, like me. You look so handsome to-day, I cannot +let you go. You have got a colour. + +S. But you say I look best when I am pale. + +H. When you are pale, I think so; but when you have a colour, I then +think you still more beautiful. It is you that I admire; and whatever +you are, I like best. I like you as Miss L----, I should like you still +more as Mrs. ----. I once thought you were half inclined to be a prude, +and I admired you as a "pensive nun, devout and pure." I now think you +are more than half a coquet, and I like you for your roguery. The truth +is, I am in love with you, my angel; and whatever you are, is to me the +perfection of thy sex. I care not what thou art, while thou art still +thyself. Smile but so, and turn my heart to what shape you please! + +S. I am afraid, Sir, Mrs. E---- will think you have forgotten her. + +H. I had, my charmer. But go, and make her a sweet apology, all +graceful as thou art. One kiss! Ah! ought I not to think myself the +happiest of men? + + + + +THE FLAGEOLET + + +H. Where have you been, my love? + +S. I have been down to see my aunt, Sir. + +H. And I hope she has been giving you good advice. + +S. I did not go to ask her opinion about any thing. + +H. And yet you seem anxious and agitated. You appear pale and +dejected, as if your refusal of me had touched your own breast with +pity. Cruel girl! you look at this moment heavenly-soft, saint-like, or +resemble some graceful marble statue, in the moon's pale ray! Sadness +only heightens the elegance of your features. How can I escape from +you, when every new occasion, even your cruelty and scorn, brings out +some new charm. Nay, your rejection of me, by the way in which you do +it, is only a new link added to my chain. Raise those downcast eyes, +bend as if an angel stooped, and kiss me. . . . Ah! enchanting little +trembler! if such is thy sweetness where thou dost not love, what must +thy love have been? I cannot think how any man, having the heart of +one, could go and leave it. + +S. No one did, that I know of. + +H. Yes, you told me yourself he left you (though he liked you, and +though he knew--Oh! gracious God! that you loved him) he left you +because "the pride of birth would not permit a union."--For myself, I +would leave a throne to ascend to the heaven of thy charms. I live but +for thee, here--I only wish to live again to pass all eternity with +thee. But even in another world, I suppose you would turn from me to +seek him out who scorned you here. + +S. If the proud scorn us here, in that place we shall all be equal. + +H. Do not look so--do not talk so--unless you would drive me mad. I +could worship you at this moment. Can I witness such perfection, and +bear to think I have lost you for ever? Oh! let me hope! You see you +can mould me as you like. You can lead me by the hand, like a little +child; and with you my way would be like a little child's:--you could +strew flowers in my path, and pour new life and hope into me. I should +then indeed hail the return of spring with joy, could I indulge the +faintest hope--would you but let me try to please you! + +S. Nothing can alter my resolution, Sir. + +H. Will you go and leave me so? + +S. It is late, and my father will be getting impatient at my stopping +so long. + +H. You know he has nothing to fear for you--it is poor I that am alone +in danger. But I wanted to ask about buying you a flageolet. Could I +see that which you have? If it is a pretty one, it would hardly be +worth while; but if it isn't, I thought of bespeaking an ivory one for +you. Can't you bring up your own to shew me? + +S. Not to-night, Sir. + +H. I wish you could. + +S. I cannot--but I will in the morning. + +H. Whatever you determine, I must submit to. Good night, and bless +thee! + +[The next morning, S. brought up the tea-kettle as usual; and looking +towards the tea-tray, she said, "Oh! I see my sister has forgot the +tea-pot." It was not there, sure enough; and tripping down stairs, she +came up in a minute, with the tea-pot in one hand, and the flageolet in +the other, balanced so sweetly and gracefully. It would have been +awkward to have brought up the flageolet in the tea-tray and she could +not have well gone down again on purpose to fetch it. Something, +therefore, was to be omitted as an excuse. Exquisite witch! But do I +love her the less dearly for it? I cannot.] + + + + +THE CONFESSION + + +H. You say you cannot love. Is there not a prior attachment in the +case? Was there any one else that you did like? + +S. Yes, there was another. + +H. Ah! I thought as much. Is it long ago then? + +S. It is two years, Sir. + +H. And has time made no alteration? Or do you still see him sometimes? + +S. No, Sir! But he is one to whom I feel the sincerest affection, and +ever shall, though he is far distant. + +H. And did he return your regard? + +S. I had every reason to think so. + +H. What then broke off your intimacy? + +S. It was the pride of birth, Sir, that would not permit him to think +of a union. + +H. Was he a young man of rank, then? + +S. His connections were high. + +H. And did he never attempt to persuade you to any other step? + +S. No--he had too great a regard for me. + +H. Tell me, my angel, how was it? Was he so very handsome? Or was it +the fineness of his manners? + +S. It was more his manner: but I can't tell how it was. It was chiefly +my own fault. I was foolish to suppose he could ever think seriously of +me. But he used to make me read with him--and I used to be with him a +good deal, though not much neither--and I found my affections entangled +before I was aware of it. + +H. And did your mother and family know of it? + +S. No--I have never told any one but you; nor I should not have +mentioned it now, but I thought it might give you some satisfaction. + +H. Why did he go at last? + +S. We thought it better to part. + +H. And do you correspond? + +S. No, Sir. But perhaps I may see him again some time or other, though +it will be only in the way of friendship. + +H. My God! what a heart is thine, to live for years upon that bare +hope! + +S. I did not wish to live always, Sir--I wished to die for a long time +after, till I thought it not right; and since then I have endeavoured to +be as resigned as I can. + +H. And do you think the impression will never wear out? + +S. Not if I can judge from my feelings hitherto. It is now sometime +since,--and I find no difference. + +H. May God for ever bless you! How can I thank you for your +condescension in letting me know your sweet sentiments? You have +changed my esteem into adoration.--Never can I harbour a thought of ill +in thee again. + +S. Indeed, Sir, I wish for your good opinion and your friendship. + +H. And can you return them? + +S. Yes. + +H. And nothing more? + +S. No, Sir. + +H. You are an angel, and I will spend my life, if you will let me, in +paying you the homage that my heart feels towards you. + + + + +THE QUARREL + + +H. You are angry with me? + +S. Have I not reason? + +H. I hope you have; for I would give the world to believe my suspicions +unjust. But, oh! my God! after what I have thought of you and felt +towards you, as little less than an angel, to have but a doubt cross my +mind for an instant that you were what I dare not name--a common +lodging-house decoy, a kissing convenience, that your lips were as +common as the stairs-- + +S. Let me go, Sir! + +H. Nay--prove to me that you are not so, and I will fall down and +worship you. You were the only creature that ever seemed to love me; +and to have my hopes, and all my fondness for you, thus turned to a +mockery--it is too much! Tell me why you have deceived me, and singled +me out as your victim? + +S. I never have, Sir. I always said I could not love. + +H. There is a difference between love and making me a laughing-stock. +Yet what else could be the meaning of your little sister's running out +to you, and saying "He thought I did not see him!" when I had followed +you into the other room? Is it a joke upon me that I make free with +you? Or is not the joke against HER sister, unless you make my +courtship of you a jest to the whole house? Indeed I do not well see +how you can come and stay with me as you do, by the hour together, and +day after day, as openly as you do, unless you give it some such turn +with your family. Or do you deceive them as well as me? + +S. I deceive no one, Sir. But my sister Betsey was always watching and +listening when Mr. M---- was courting my eldest sister, till he was +obliged to complain of it. + +H. That I can understand, but not the other. You may remember, when +your servant Maria looked in and found you sitting in my lap one day, +and I was afraid she might tell your mother, you said "You did not care, +for you had no secrets from your mother." This seemed to me odd at the +time, but I thought no more of it, till other things brought it to my +mind. Am I to suppose, then, that you are acting a part, a vile part, +all this time, and that you come up here, and stay as long as I like, +that you sit on my knee and put your arms round my neck, and feed me +with kisses, and let me take other liberties with you, and that for a +year together; and that you do all this not out of love, or liking, or +regard, but go through your regular task, like some young witch, without +one natural feeling, to shew your cleverness, and get a few presents out +of me, and go down into the kitchen to make a fine laugh of it? There +is something monstrous in it, that I cannot believe of you. + +S. Sir, you have no right to harass my feelings in the manner you do. +I have never made a jest of you to anyone, but always felt and expressed +the greatest esteem for you. You have no ground for complaint in my +conduct; and I cannot help what Betsey or others do. I have always been +consistent from the first. I told you my regard could amount to no more +than friendship. + +H. Nay, Sarah, it was more than half a year before I knew that there +was an insurmountable obstacle in the way. You say your regard is +merely friendship, and that you are sorry I have ever felt anything more +for you. Yet the first time I ever asked you, you let me kiss you; the +first time I ever saw you, as you went out of the room, you turned full +round at the door, with that inimitable grace with which you do +everything, and fixed your eyes full upon me, as much as to say, "Is he +caught?"--that very week you sat upon my knee, twined your arms round +me, caressed me with every mark of tenderness consistent with modesty; +and I have not got much farther since. Now if you did all this with me, +a perfect stranger to you, and without any particular liking to me, must +I not conclude you do so as a matter of course with everyone?--Or, if +you do not do so with others, it was because you took a liking to me for +some reason or other. + +S. It was gratitude, Sir, for different obligations. + +H. If you mean by obligations the presents I made you, I had given you +none the first day I came. You do not consider yourself OBLIGED to +everyone who asks you for a kiss? + +S. No, Sir. + +H. I should not have thought anything of it in anyone but you. But you +seemed so reserved and modest, so soft, so timid, you spoke so low, you +looked so innocent--I thought it impossible you could deceive me. +Whatever favors you granted must proceed from pure regard. No betrothed +virgin ever gave the object of her choice kisses, caresses more modest +or more bewitching than those you have given me a thousand and a +thousand times. Could I have thought I should ever live to believe them +an inhuman mockery of one who had the sincerest regard for you? Do you +think they will not now turn to rank poison in my veins, and kill me, +soul and body? You say it is friendship--but if this is friendship, +I'll forswear love. Ah! Sarah! it must be something more or less than +friendship. If your caresses are sincere, they shew fondness--if they +are not, I must be more than indifferent to you. Indeed you once let +some words drop, as if I were out of the question in such matters, and +you could trifle with me with impunity. Yet you complain at other times +that no one ever took such liberties with you as I have done. I +remember once in particular your saying, as you went out at the door in +anger--"I had an attachment before, but that person never attempted +anything of the kind." Good God! How did I dwell on that word +BEFORE, thinking it implied an attachment to me also; but you have +since disclaimed any such meaning. You say you have never professed +more than esteem. Yet once, when you were sitting in your old place, on +my knee, embracing and fondly embraced, and I asked you if you could not +love, you made answer, "I could easily say so, whether I did or not--YOU +SHOULD JUDGE BY MY ACTIONS!" And another time, when you were in the +same posture, and I reproached you with indifference, you replied in +these words, "Do I SEEM INDIFFERENT?" Was I to blame after this to +indulge my passion for the loveliest of her sex? Or what can I think? + +S. I am no prude, Sir. + +H. Yet you might be taken for one. So your mother said, "It was hard +if you might not indulge in a little levity." She has strange notions +of levity. But levity, my dear, is quite out of character in you. Your +ordinary walk is as if you were performing some religious ceremony: you +come up to my table of a morning, when you merely bring in the +tea-things, as if you were advancing to the altar. You move in +minuet-time: you measure every step, as if you were afraid of offending +in the smallest things. I never hear your approach on the stairs, but +by a sort of hushed silence. When you enter the room, the Graces wait +on you, and Love waves round your person in gentle undulations, +breathing balm into the soul! By Heaven, you are an angel! You look +like one at this instant! Do I not adore you--and have I merited this +return? + +S. I have repeatedly answered that question. You sit and fancy things +out of your own head, and then lay them to my charge. There is not a +word of truth in your suspicions. + +H. Did I not overhear the conversation down-stairs last night, to which +you were a party? Shall I repeat it? + +S. I had rather not hear it! + +H. Or what am I to think of this story of the footman? + +S. It is false, Sir, I never did anything of the sort. + +H. Nay, when I told your mother I wished she wouldn't * * * * * * * * * +(as I heard she did) she said "Oh, there's nothing in that, for Sarah +very often * * * * * *," and your doing so before company, is only a +trifling addition to the sport. + +S. I'll call my mother, Sir, and she shall contradict you. + +H. Then she'll contradict herself. But did not you boast you were +"very persevering in your resistance to gay young men," and had been +"several times obliged to ring the bell?" Did you always ring it? Or +did you get into these dilemmas that made it necessary, merely by the +demureness of your looks and ways? Or had nothing else passed? Or have +you two characters, one that you palm off upon me, and another, your +natural one, that you resume when you get out of the room, like an +actress who throws aside her artificial part behind the scenes? Did you +not, when I was courting you on the staircase the first night Mr. C---- +came, beg me to desist, for if the new lodger heard us, he'd take you +for a light character? Was that all? Were you only afraid of being +TAKEN for a light character? Oh! Sarah! + +S. I'll stay and hear this no longer. + +H. Yes, one word more. Did you not love another? + +S. Yes, and ever shall most sincerely. + +H. Then, THAT is my only hope. If you could feel this sentiment for +him, you cannot be what you seem to me of late. But there is another +thing I had to say--be what you will, I love you to distraction! You +are the only woman that ever made me think she loved me, and that +feeling was so new to me, and so delicious, that it "will never from my +heart." Thou wert to me a little tender flower, blooming in the +wilderness of my life; and though thou should'st turn out a weed, I'll +not fling thee from me, while I can help it. Wert thou all that I dread +to think--wert thou a wretched wanderer in the street, covered with +rags, disease, and infamy, I'd clasp thee to my bosom, and live and die +with thee, my love. Kiss me, thou little sorceress! + +S. NEVER. + +H. Then go: but remember I cannot live without you--nor I will not. + + + + +THE RECONCILIATION + + +H. I have then lost your friendship? + +S. Nothing tends more to alienate friendship than insult. + +H. The words I uttered hurt me more than they did you. + +S. It was not words merely, but actions as well. + +H. Nothing I can say or do can ever alter my fondness for you--Ah, +Sarah! I am unworthy of your love: I hardly dare ask for your pity; but +oh! save me--save me from your scorn: I cannot bear it--it withers me +like lightning. + +S. I bear no malice, Sir; but my brother, who would scorn to tell a lie +for his sister, can bear witness for me that there was no truth in what +you were told. + +H. I believe it; or there is no truth in woman. It is enough for me to +know that you do not return my regard; it would be too much for me to +think that you did not deserve it. But cannot you forgive the agony of +the moment? + +S. I can forgive; but it is not easy to forget some things! + +H. Nay, my sweet Sarah (frown if you will, I can bear your resentment +for my ill behaviour, it is only your scorn and indifference that harrow +up my soul)--but I was going to ask, if you had been engaged to be +married to any one, and the day was fixed, and he had heard what I did, +whether he could have felt any true regard for the character of his +bride, his wife, if he had not been hurt and alarmed as I was? + +S. I believe, actual contracts of marriage have sometimes been broken +off by unjust suspicions. + +H. Or had it been your old friend, what do you think he would have said +in my case? + +S. He would never have listened to anything of the sort. + +H. He had greater reasons for confidence than I have. But it is your +repeated cruel rejection of me that drives me almost to madness. Tell +me, love, is there not, besides your attachment to him, a repugnance to +me? + +S. No, none whatever. + +H. I fear there is an original dislike, which no efforts of mine can +overcome. + +S. It is not you--it is my feelings with respect to another, which are +unalterable. + +H. And yet you have no hope of ever being his? And yet you accuse me +of being romantic in my sentiments. + +S. I have indeed long ceased to hope; but yet I sometimes hope against +hope. + +H. My love! were it in my power, thy hopes should be fulfilled +to-morrow. Next to my own, there is nothing that could give me so much +satisfaction as to see thine realized! Do I not love thee, when I can +feel such an interest in thy love for another? It was that which first +wedded my very soul to you. I would give worlds for a share in a heart +so rich in pure affection! + +S. And yet I did not tell you of the circumstance to raise myself in +your opinion. + +H. You are a sublime little thing! And yet, as you have no prospects +there, I cannot help thinking, the best thing would be to do as I have +said. + +S. I would never marry a man I did not love beyond all the world. + +H. I should be satisfied with less than that--with the love, or regard, +or whatever you call it, you have shown me before marriage, if that has +only been sincere. You would hardly like me less afterwards. + +S. Endearments would, I should think, increase regard, where there was +love beforehand; but that is not exactly my case. + +H. But I think you would be happier than you are at present. You take +pleasure in my conversation, and you say you have an esteem for me; and +it is upon this, after the honeymoon, that marriage chiefly turns. + +S. Do you think there is no pleasure in a single life? + +H. Do you mean on account of its liberty? + +S. No, but I feel that forced duty is no duty. I have high ideas of +the married state! + +H. Higher than of the maiden state? + +S. I understand you, Sir. + +H. I meant nothing; but you have sometimes spoken of any serious +attachment as a tie upon you. It is not that you prefer flirting with +"gay young men" to becoming a mere dull domestic wife? + +S. You have no right to throw out such insinuations: for though I am +but a tradesman's daughter, I have as nice a sense of honour as anyone +can have. + +H. Talk of a tradesman's daughter! you would ennoble any family, thou +glorious girl, by true nobility of mind. + +S. Oh! Sir, you flatter me. I know my own inferiority to most. + +H. To none; there is no one above thee, man nor woman either. You are +above your situation, which is not fit for you. + +S. I am contented with my lot, and do my duty as cheerfully as I can. + +H. Have you not told me your spirits grow worse every year? + +S. Not on that account: but some disappointments are hard to bear up +against. + +H. If you talk about that, you'll unman me. But tell me, my love,--I +have thought of it as something that might account for some +circumstances; that is, as a mere possibility. But tell me, there was +not a likeness between me and your old lover that struck you at first +sight? Was there? + +S. No, Sir, none. + +H. Well, I didn't think it likely there should. + +S. But there was a likeness. + +H. To whom? + +S. To that little image! (looking intently on a small bronze figure of +Buonaparte on the mantelpiece). + +H. What, do you mean to Buonaparte? + +S. Yes, all but the nose was just like. + +H. And was his figure the same? + +S. He was taller! + +[I got up and gave her the image, and told her it was hers by every +right that was sacred. She refused at first to take so valuable a +curiosity, and said she would keep it for me. But I pressed it eagerly, +and she look it. She immediately came and sat down, and put her arm +round my neck, and kissed me, and I said, "Is it not plain we are the +best friends in the world, since we are always so glad to make it up?" +And then I added "How odd it was that the God of my idolatry should turn +out to be like her Idol, and said it was no wonder that the same face +which awed the world should conquer the sweetest creature in it!" How I +loved her at that moment! Is it possible that the wretch who writes +this could ever have been so blest! Heavenly delicious creature! Can I +live without her? Oh! no--never--never. + +"What is this world? What asken men to have, Now with his love, now in +the cold grave, Alone, withouten any compagnie!" + +Let me but see her again! She cannot hate the man who loves her as I +do.] + + + + +LETTERS TO THE SAME + + +Feb., 1822. + + +--You will scold me for this, and ask me if this is keeping my promise +to mind my work. One half of it was to think of Sarah: and besides, I +do not neglect my work either, I assure you. I regularly do ten pages a +day, which mounts up to thirty guineas' worth a week, so that you see I +should grow rich at this rate, if I could keep on so; AND I COULD KEEP +ON SO, if I had you with me to encourage me with your sweet smiles, and +share my lot. The Berwick smacks sail twice a week, and the wind sits +fair. When I think of the thousand endearing caresses that have passed +between us, I do not wonder at the strong attachment that draws me to +you; but I am sorry for my own want of power to please. I hear the wind +sigh through the lattice, and keep repeating over and over to myself two +lines of Lord Byron's Tragedy-- + +"So shalt thou find me ever at thy side Here and hereafter, if the last +may be."-- + +applying them to thee, my love, and thinking whether I shall ever see +thee again. Perhaps not--for some years at least--till both thou and I +are old--and then, when all else have forsaken thee, I will creep to +thee, and die in thine arms. You once made me believe I was not hated +by her I loved; and for that sensation, so delicious was it, though but +a mockery and a dream, I owe you more than I can ever pay. I thought to +have dried up my tears for ever, the day I left you; but as I write +this, they stream again. If they did not, I think my heart would burst. +I walk out here of an afternoon, and hear the notes of the thrush, that +come up from a sheltered valley below, welcome in the spring; but they +do not melt my heart as they used: it is grown cold and dead. As you +say, it will one day be colder.--Forgive what I have written above; I +did not intend it: but you were once my little all, and I cannot bear +the thought of having lost you for ever, I fear through my own fault. +Has any one called? Do not send any letters that come. I should like +you and your mother (if agreeable) to go and see Mr. Kean in Othello, +and Miss Stephens in Love in a Village. If you will, I will write to +Mr. T----, to send you tickets. Has Mr. P---- called? I think I must +send to him for the picture to kiss and talk to. Kiss me, my best +beloved. Ah! if you can never be mine, still let me be your proud and +happy slave. + +H. + + + + +TO THE SAME + + +March, 1822. + + +--You will be glad to learn I have done my work--a volume in less than a +month. This is one reason why I am better than when I came, and another +is, I have had two letters from Sarah. I am pleased I have got through +this job, as I was afraid I might lose reputation by it (which I can +little afford to lose)--and besides, I am more anxious to do well now, +as I wish you to hear me well spoken of. I walk out of an afternoon, +and hear the birds sing as I told you, and think, if I had you hanging +on my arm, and that for life, how happy I should be--happier than I ever +hoped to be, or had any conception of till I knew you. "But that can +never be"--I hear you answer in a soft, low murmur. Well, let me dream +of it sometimes--I am not happy too often, except when that favourite +note, the harbinger of spring, recalling the hopes of my youth, whispers +thy name and peace together in my ear. I was reading something about +Mr. Macready to-day, and this put me in mind of that delicious night, +when I went with your mother and you to see Romeo and Juliet. Can I +forget it for a moment--your sweet modest looks, your infinite propriety +of behaviour, all your sweet winning ways--your hesitating about taking +my arm as we came out till your mother did--your laughing about nearly +losing your cloak--your stepping into the coach without my being able to +make the slightest discovery--and oh! my sitting down beside you there, +you whom I had loved so long, so well, and your assuring me I had not +lessened your pleasure at the play by being with you, and giving me your +dear hand to press in mine! I thought I was in heaven--that slender +exquisitely-turned form contained my all of heaven upon earth; and as I +folded you--yes, you, my own best Sarah, to my bosom, there was, as you +say, A TIE BETWEEN US--you did seem to me, for those few short +moments, to be mine in all truth and honour and sacredness--Oh! that we +could be always so--Do not mock me, for I am a very child in love. I +ought to beg pardon for behaving so ill afterwards, but I hope THE +LITTLE IMAGE made it up between us, &c. + + +[To this letter I have received no answer, not a line. The rolling +years of eternity will never fill up that blank. Where shall I be? +What am I? Or where have I been?] + + + + +WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF ENDYMION + + +I want a hand to guide me, an eye to cheer me, a bosom to repose on; all +which I shall never have, but shall stagger into my grave, old before my +time, unloved and unlovely, unless S. L. keeps her faith with me. + +* * * * * * * * * * * + +--But by her dove's eyes and serpent-shape, I think she does not hate +me; by her smooth forehead and her crested hair, I own I love her; by +her soft looks and queen-like grace (which men might fall down and +worship) I swear to live and die for her! + + + + +A PROPOSAL OF LOVE + + +(Given to her in our early acquaintance) + + "Oh! if I thought it could be in a woman + (As, if it can, I will presume in you) + To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love, + To keep her constancy in plight and youth, + Outliving beauties outward with a mind + That doth renew swifter than blood decays: + Or that persuasion could but thus convince me, + That my integrity and truth to you + Might be confronted with the match and weight + Of such a winnowed purity in love-- + How were I then uplifted! But, alas, + I am as true as truth's simplicity, + And simpler than the infancy of truth." + + TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. + + + + +PART II + + + +LETTERS TO C. P----, ESQ. + + +Bees-Inn. + + +My good friend, Here I am in Scotland (and shall have been here three +weeks, next Monday) as I may say, ON MY PROBATION. This is a lone +inn, but on a great scale, thirty miles from Edinburgh. It is situated +on a rising ground (a mark for all the winds, which blow here +incessantly)--there is a woody hill opposite, with a winding valley +below, and the London road stretches out on either side. You may guess +which way I oftenest walk. I have written two letters to S. L. and got +one cold, prudish answer, beginning SIR, and ending FROM YOURS +TRULY, with BEST RESPECTS FROM HERSELF AND RELATIONS. I was going to +give in, but have returned an answer, which I think is a touch-stone. I +send it you on the other side to keep as a curiosity, in case she kills +me by her exquisite rejoinder. I am convinced from the profound +contemplations I have had on the subject here and coming along, that I +am on a wrong scent. We had a famous parting-scene, a complete quarrel +and then a reconciliation, in which she did beguile me of my tears, but +the deuce a one did she shed. What do you think? She cajoled me out of +my little Buonaparte as cleverly as possible, in manner and form +following. She was shy the Saturday and Sunday (the day of my +departure) so I got in dudgeon, and began to rip up grievances. I asked +her how she came to admit me to such extreme familiarities, the first +week I entered the house. "If she had no particular regard for me, she +must do so (or more) with everyone: if she had a liking to me from the +first, why refuse me with scorn and wilfulness?" If you had seen how +she flounced, and looked, and went to the door, saying "She was obliged +to me for letting her know the opinion I had always entertained of +her"--then I said, "Sarah!" and she came back and took my hand, and +fixed her eyes on the mantelpiece--(she must have been invoking her idol +then--if I thought so, I could devour her, the darling--but I doubt +her)--So I said "There is one thing that has occurred to me sometimes as +possible, to account for your conduct to me at first--there wasn't a +likeness, was there, to your old friend?" She answered "No, none--but +there was a likeness!" I asked, to what? She said "to that little +image!" I said, "Do you mean Buonaparte?"--She said "Yes, all but the +nose."--"And the figure?"--"He was taller."--I could not stand this. So +I got up and took it, and gave it her, and after some reluctance, she +consented to "keep it for me." What will you bet me that it wasn't all +a trick? I'll tell you why I suspect it, besides being fairly out of my +wits about her. I had told her mother half an hour before, that I +should take this image and leave it at Mrs. B.'s, for that I didn't wish +to leave anything behind me that must bring me back again. Then up she +comes and starts a likeness to her lover: she knew I should give it her +on the spot--"No, she would keep it for me!" So I must come back for +it. Whether art or nature, it is sublime. I told her I should write +and tell you so, and that I parted from her, confiding, adoring!--She is +beyond me, that's certain. Do go and see her, and desire her not to +give my present address to a single soul, and learn if the lodging is +let, and to whom. My letter to her is as follows. If she shews the +least remorse at it, I'll be hanged, though it might move a stone, I +modestly think. (See before, Part I. first letter.) + +N.B.--I have begun a book of our conversations (I mean mine and the +statue's) which I call LIBER AMORIS. I was detained at Stamford and +found myself dull, and could hit upon no other way of employing my time +so agreeably. + + + + +LETTER II + + +Dear P----, Here, without loss of time, in order that I may have your +opinion upon it, is little Yes and No's answer to my last. + + +"Sir, I should not have disregarded your injunction not to send you any +more letters that might come to you, had I not promised the Gentleman +who left the enclosed to forward it the earliest opportunity, as he said +it was of consequence. Mr. P---- called the day after you left town. +My mother and myself are much obliged by your kind offer of tickets to +the play, but must decline accepting it. My family send their best +respects, in which they are joined by + +Yours, truly, + +S. L. + + +The deuce a bit more is there of it. If you can make anything out of it +(or any body else) I'll be hanged. You are to understand, this comes in +a frank, the second I have received from her, with a name I can't make +out, and she won't tell me, though I asked her, where she got franks, as +also whether the lodgings were let, to neither of which a word of +answer. * * * * is the name on the frank: see if you can decypher it by +a Red-book. I suspect her grievously of being an arrant jilt, to say no +more--yet I love her dearly. Do you know I'm going to write to that +sweet rogue presently, having a whole evening to myself in advance of my +work? Now mark, before you set about your exposition of the new +Apocalypse of the new Calypso, the only thing to be endured in the above +letter is the date. It was written the very day after she received +mine. By this she seems willing to lose no time in receiving these +letters "of such sweet breath composed." If I thought so--but I wait +for your reply. After all, what is there in her but a pretty figure, +and that you can't get a word out of her? Hers is the Fabian method of +making love and conquests. What do you suppose she said the night +before I left her? + +"H. Could you not come and live with me as a friend? + +"S. I don't know: and yet it would be of no use if I did, you would +always be hankering after what could never be!" + +I asked her if she would do so at once--the very next day? And what do +you guess was her answer--"Do you think it would be prudent?" As I +didn't proceed to extremities on the spot, she began to look grave, and +declare off. "Would she live with me in her own house--to be with me +all day as dear friends, if nothing more, to sit and read and talk with +me?"--"She would make no promises, but I should find her the +same."--"Would she go to the play with me sometimes, and let it be +understood that I was paying my addresses to her?"--"She could not, as a +habit--her father was rather strict, and would object."--Now what am I +to think of all this? Am I mad or a fool? Answer me to that, Master +Brook! You are a philosopher. + + + + +LETTER III + + +Dear Friend, I ought to have written to you before; but since I received +your letter, I have been in a sort of purgatory, and what is worse, I +see no prospect of getting out of it. I would put an end to my torments +at once; but I am as great a coward as I have been a dupe. Do you know +I have not had a word of answer from her since! What can be the reason? + Is she offended at my letting you know she wrote to me, or is it some +new affair? I wrote to her in the tenderest, most respectful manner, +poured my soul at her feet, and this is the return she makes me! Can +you account for it, except on the admission of my worst doubts +concerning her? Oh God! can I bear after all to think of her so, or +that I am scorned and made a sport of by the creature to whom I had +given my whole heart? Thus has it been with me all my life; and so will +it be to the end of it!--If you should learn anything, good or bad, tell +me, I conjure you: I can bear anything but this cruel suspense. If I +knew she was a mere abandoned creature, I should try to forget her; but +till I do know this, nothing can tear me from her, I have drank in +poison from her lips too long--alas! mine do not poison again. I sit +and indulge my grief by the hour together; my weakness grows upon me; +and I have no hope left, unless I could lose my senses quite. Do you +know I think I should like this? To forget, ah! to forget--there would +be something in that--to change to an idiot for some few years, and then +to wake up a poor wretched old man, to recollect my misery as past, and +die! Yet, oh! with her, only a little while ago, I had different hopes, +forfeited for nothing that I know of! * * * * * * If you can give me any +consolation on the subject of my tormentor, pray do. The pain I suffer +wears me out daily. I write this on the supposition that Mrs. ---- may +still come here, and that I may be detained some weeks longer. Direct +to me at the Post-office; and if I return to town directly as I fear, I +will leave word for them to forward the letter to me in London--not at +my old lodgings. I will not go back there: yet how can I breathe away +from her? Her hatred of me must be great, since my love of her could +not overcome it! I have finished the book of my conversations with her, +which I told you of: if I am not mistaken, you will think it very nice +reading. + +Yours ever. + +Have you read Sardanapalus? How like the little Greek slave, Myrrha, is +to HER! + + + + +LETTER IV + + +(Written in the Winter) + +My good Friend, I received your letter this morning, and I kiss the rod +not only with submission, but gratitude. Your reproofs of me and your +defences of her are the only things that save my soul from perdition. +She is my heart's idol; and believe me those words of yours applied to +the dear saint--"To lip a chaste one and suppose her wanton"--were balm +and rapture to me. I have LIPPED HER, God knows how often, and oh! is +it even possible that she is chaste, and that she has bestowed her loved +"endearments" on me (her own sweet word) out of true regard? That +thought, out of the lowest depths of despair, would at any time make me +strike my forehead against the stars. Could I but think the love +"honest," I am proof against all hazards. She by her silence makes my +dark hour; and you by your encouragements dissipate it for twenty-four +hours. Another thing has brought me to life. Mrs. ---- is actually on +her way here about the divorce. Should this unpleasant business (which +has been so long talked of) succeed, and I should become free, do you +think S. L. will agree to change her name to ----? If she WILL, she +SHALL; and to call her so to you, or to hear her called so by others, +would be music to my ears, such as they never drank in. Do you think if +she knew how I love her, my depressions and my altitudes, my wanderings +and my constancy, it would not move her? She knows it all; and if she +is not an INCORRIGIBLE, she loves me, or regards me with a feeling +next to love. I don't believe that any woman was ever courted more +passionately than she has been by me. As Rousseau said of Madame +d'Houptot (forgive the allusion) my heart has found a tongue in speaking +to her, and I have talked to her the divine language of love. Yet she +says, she is insensible to it. Am I to believe her or you? You--for I +wish it and wish it to madness, now that I am like to be free, and to +have it in my power to say to her without a possibility of suspicion, +"Sarah, will you be mine?" When I sometimes think of the time I first +saw the sweet apparition, August 16, 1820, and that possibly she may be +my bride before that day two years, it makes me dizzy with incredible +joy and love of her. Write soon. + + + + +LETTER V + + +My dear Friend, I read your answer this morning with gratitude. I have +felt somewhat easier since. It shewed your interest in my vexations, +and also that you know nothing worse than I do. I cannot describe the +weakness of mind to which she has reduced me. This state of suspense is +like hanging in the air by a single thread that exhausts all your +strength to keep hold of it; and yet if that fails you, you have nothing +in the world else left to trust to. I am come back to Edinburgh about +this cursed business, and Mrs. ---- is coming from Montrose next week. +How it will end, I can't say; and don't care, except as it regards the +other affair. I should, I confess, like to have it in my power to make +her the offer direct and unequivocal, to see how she'd receive it. It +would be worth something at any rate to see her superfine airs upon the +occasion; and if she should take it into her head to turn round her +sweet neck, drop her eye-lids, and say--"Yes, I will be yours!"--why +then, "treason domestic, foreign levy, nothing could touch me further." +By Heaven! I doat on her. The truth is, I never had any pleasure, like +love, with any one but her. Then how can I bear to part with her? Do +you know I like to think of her best in her morning-gown and mob-cap--it +is so she has oftenest come into my room and enchanted me! She was once +ill, pale, and had lost all her freshness. I only adored her the more +for it, and fell in love with the decay of her beauty. I could devour +the little witch. If she had a plague-spot on her, I could touch the +infection: if she was in a burning fever, I could kiss her, and drink +death as I have drank life from her lips. When I press her hand, I +enjoy perfect happiness and contentment of soul. It is not what she +says or what she does--it is herself that I love. To be with her is to +be at peace. I have no other wish or desire. The air about her is +serene, blissful; and he who breathes it is like one of the Gods! So +that I can but have her with me always, I care for nothing more. I +never could tire of her sweetness; I feel that I could grow to her, body +and soul? My heart, my heart is hers. + + + + +LETTER VI + + +(Written in May) + +Dear P----, What have I suffered since I parted with you! A raging fire +is in my heart and in my brain, that never quits me. The steam-boat +(which I foolishly ventured on board) seems a prison-house, a sort of +spectre-ship, moving on through an infernal lake, without wind or tide, +by some necromantic power--the splashing of the waves, the noise of the +engine gives me no rest, night or day--no tree, no natural object varies +the scene--but the abyss is before me, and all my peace lies weltering +in it! I feel the eternity of punishment in this life; for I see no end +of my woes. The people about me are ill, uncomfortable, wretched +enough, many of them--but to-morrow or next day, they reach the place of +their destination, and all will be new and delightful. To me it will be +the same. I can neither escape from her, nor from myself. All is +endurable where there is a limit: but I have nothing but the blackness +and the fiendishness of scorn around me--mocked by her (the false one) +in whom I placed my hope, and who hardens herself against me!--I believe +you thought me quite gay, vain, insolent, half mad, the night I left the +house--no tongue can tell the heaviness of heart I felt at that moment. +No footsteps ever fell more slow, more sad than mine; for every step +bore me farther from her, with whom my soul and every thought lingered. +I had parted with her in anger, and each had spoken words of high +disdain, not soon to be forgiven. Should I ever behold her again? +Where go to live and die far from her? In her sight there was Elysium; +her smile was heaven; her voice was enchantment; the air of love waved +round her, breathing balm into my heart: for a little while I had sat +with the Gods at their golden tables, I had tasted of all earth's bliss, +"both living and loving!" But now Paradise barred its doors against me; +I was driven from her presence, where rosy blushes and delicious sighs +and all soft wishes dwelt, the outcast of nature and the scoff of love! +I thought of the time when I was a little happy careless child, of my +father's house, of my early lessons, of my brother's picture of me when +a boy, of all that had since happened to me, and of the waste of years +to come--I stopped, faultered, and was going to turn back once more to +make a longer truce with wretchedness and patch up a hollow league with +love, when the recollection of her words--"I always told you I had no +affection for you"--steeled my resolution, and I determined to proceed. +You see by this she always hated me, and only played with my credulity +till she could find some one to supply the place of her unalterable +attachment to THE LITTLE IMAGE. * * * * * I am a little, a very little +better to-day. Would it were quietly over; and that this misshapen form +(made to be mocked) were hid out of the sight of cold, sullen eyes! The +people about me even take notice of my dumb despair, and pity me. What +is to be done? I cannot forget HER; and I can find no other like what +SHE SEEMED. I should wish you to call, if you can make an excuse, and +see whether or no she is quite marble--whether I may go back again at my +return, and whether she will see me and talk to me sometimes as an old +friend. Suppose you were to call on M---- from me, and ask him what his +impression is that I ought to do. But do as you think best. Pardon, +pardon. + +P.S.--I send this from Scarborough, where the vessel stops for a few +minutes. I scarcely know what I should have done, but for this relief +to my feelings. + + + + +LETTER VII + + +My dear Friend, The important step is taken, and I am virtually a free +man. * * * What had I better do in these circumstances? I dare not +write to her, I dare not write to her father, or else I would. She has +shot me through with poisoned arrows, and I think another "winged wound" +would finish me. It is a pleasant sort of balm (as you express it) +she has left in my heart! One thing I agree with you in, it will remain +there for ever; but yet not very long. It festers, and consumes me. If +it were not for my little boy, whose face I see struck blank at the +news, looking through the world for pity and meeting with contempt +instead, I should soon, I fear, settle the question by my death. That +recollection is the only thought that brings my wandering reason to an +anchor; that stirs the smallest interest in me; or gives me fortitude to +bear up against what I am doomed to feel for the ungrateful. Otherwise, +I am dead to every thing but the sense of what I have lost. She was my +life--it is gone from me, and I am grown spectral! If I find myself in +a place I am acquainted with, it reminds me of her, of the way in which +I thought of her, + +--"and carved on every tree The soft, the fair, the inexpressive she!" + + +If it is a place that is new to me, it is desolate, barren of all +interest; for nothing touches me but what has a reference to her. If +the clock strikes, the sound jars me; a million of hours will not bring +back peace to my breast. The light startles me; the darkness terrifies +me. I seem falling into a pit, without a hand to help me. She has +deceived me, and the earth fails from under my feet; no object in nature +is substantial, real, but false and hollow, like her faith on which I +built my trust. She came (I knew not how) and sat by my side and was +folded in my arms, a vision of love and joy, as if she had dropped from +the Heavens to bless me by some especial dispensation of a favouring +Providence, and make me amends for all; and now without any fault of +mine but too much fondness, she has vanished from me, and I am left to +perish. My heart is torn out of me, with every feeling for which I +wished to live. The whole is like a dream, an effect of enchantment; it +torments me, and it drives me mad. I lie down with it; I rise up with +it; and see no chance of repose. I grasp at a shadow, I try to undo the +past, and weep with rage and pity over my own weakness and misery. I +spared her again and again (fool that I was) thinking what she allowed +from me was love, friendship, sweetness, not wantonness. How could I +doubt it, looking in her face, and hearing her words, like sighs +breathed from the gentlest of all bosoms? I had hopes, I had prospects +to come, the flattery of something like fame, a pleasure in writing, +health even would have come back with her smile--she has blighted all, +turned all to poison and childish tears. Yet the barbed arrow is in my +heart--I can neither endure it, nor draw it out; for with it flows my +life's-blood. I had conversed too long with abstracted truth to trust +myself with the immortal thoughts of love. THAT S. L. MIGHT HAVE BEEN +MINE, AND NOW NEVER CAN--these are the two sole propositions that for +ever stare me in the face, and look ghastly in at my poor brain. I am +in some sense proud that I can feel this dreadful passion--it gives me a +kind of rank in the kingdom of love--but I could have wished it had been +for an object that at least could have understood its value and pitied +its excess. You say her not coming to the door when you went is a +proof--yes, that her complement is at present full! That is the reason +she doesn't want me there, lest I should discover the new affair--wretch +that I am! Another has possession of her, oh Hell! I'm satisfied of it +from her manner, which had a wanton insolence in it. Well might I run +wild when I received no letters from her. I foresaw, I felt my fate. +The gates of Paradise were once open to me too, and I blushed to enter +but with the golden keys of love! I would die; but her lover--my love +of her--ought not to die. When I am dead, who will love her as I have +done? If she should be in misfortune, who will comfort her? when she +is old, who will look in her face, and bless her? Would there be any +harm in calling upon M----, to know confidentially if he thinks it worth +my while to make her an offer the instant it is in my power? Let me +have an answer, and save me, if possible, FOR her and FROM myself. + + + + +LETTER VIII + + +My dear Friend, Your letter raised me for a moment from the depths of +despair; but not hearing from you yesterday or to-day (as I hoped) I +have had a relapse. You say I want to get rid of her. I hope you are +more right in your conjectures about her than in this about me. Oh no! +believe it, I love her as I do my own soul; my very heart is wedded to +her (be she what she may) and I would not hesitate a moment between her +and "an angel from Heaven." I grant all you say about my +self-tormenting folly: but has it been without cause? Has she not +refused me again and again with a mixture of scorn and resentment, after +going the utmost lengths with a man for whom she now disclaims all +affection; and what security can I have for her reserve with others, who +will not be restrained by feelings of delicacy towards her, and whom she +has probably preferred to me for their want of it. "SHE CAN MAKE NO +MORE CONFIDENCES"--these words ring for ever in my ears, and will be my +death-watch. They can have but one meaning, be sure of it--she always +expressed herself with the exactest propriety. That was one of the +things for which I loved her--shall I live to hate her for it? My poor +fond heart, that brooded over her and the remains of her affections as +my only hope of comfort upon earth, cannot brook this new degradation. +Who is there so low as me? Who is there besides (I ask) after the +homage I have paid her and the caresses she has lavished on me, so vile, +so abhorrent to love, to whom such an indignity could have happened? +When I think of this (and I think of nothing else) it stifles me. I am +pent up in burning, fruitless desires, which can find no vent or object. + Am I not hated, repulsed, derided by her whom alone I love or ever did +love? I cannot stay in any place, and seek in vain for relief from the +sense of her contempt and her ingratitude. I can settle to nothing: +what is the use of all I have done? Is it not that very circumstance +(my thinking beyond my strength, my feeling more than I need about so +many things) that has withered me up, and made me a thing for Love to +shrink from and wonder at? Who could ever feel that peace from the +touch of her dear hand that I have done; and is it not torn from me for +ever? My state is this, that I shall never lie down again at night nor +rise up in the morning in peace, nor ever behold my little boy's face +with pleasure while I live--unless I am restored to her favour. Instead +of that delicious feeling I had when she was heavenly-kind to me, and my +heart softened and melted in its own tenderness and her sweetness, I am +now inclosed in a dungeon of despair. The sky is marble to my thoughts; +nature is dead around me, as hope is within me; no object can give me +one gleam of satisfaction now, nor the prospect of it in time to come. +I wander by the sea-side; and the eternal ocean and lasting despair and +her face are before me. Slighted by her, on whom my heart by its last +fibre hung, where shall I turn? I wake with her by my side, not as my +sweet bedfellow, but as the corpse of my love, without a heart in her +bosom, cold, insensible, or struggling from me; and the worm gnaws me, +and the sting of unrequited love, and the canker of a hopeless, endless +sorrow. I have lost the taste of my food by feverish anxiety; and my +favourite beverage, which used to refresh me when I got up, has no +moisture in it. Oh! cold, solitary, sepulchral breakfasts, compared +with those which I promised myself with her; or which I made when she +had been standing an hour by my side, my guardian-angel, my wife, my +sister, my sweet friend, my Eve, my all; and had blest me with her +seraph kisses! Ah! what I suffer at present only shews what I have +enjoyed. But "the girl is a good girl, if there is goodness in human +nature." I thank you for those words; and I will fall down and worship +you, if you can prove them true: and I would not do much less for him +that proves her a demon. She is one or the other, that's certain; but I +fear the worst. Do let me know if anything has passed: suspense is my +greatest punishment. I am going into the country to see if I can work a +little in the three weeks I have yet to stay here. Write on the receipt +of this, and believe me ever your unspeakably obliged friend. + + + + +TO EDINBURGH + + +--"Stony-hearted" Edinburgh! What art thou to me? The dust of thy +streets mingles with my tears and blinds me. City of palaces, or of +tombs--a quarry, rather than the habitation of men! Art thou like +London, that populous hive, with its sunburnt, well-baked, brick-built +houses--its public edifices, its theatres, its bridges, its squares, its +ladies, and its pomp, its throng of wealth, its outstretched magnitude, +and its mighty heart that never lies still? Thy cold grey walls reflect +back the leaden melancholy of the soul. The square, hard-edged, +unyielding faces of thy inhabitants have no sympathy to impart. What is +it to me that I look along the level line of thy tenantless streets, and +meet perhaps a lawyer like a grasshopper chirping and skipping, or the +daughter of a Highland laird, haughty, fair, and freckled? Or why +should I look down your boasted Prince's Street, with the beetle-browed +Castle on one side, and the Calton Hill with its proud monument at the +further end, and the ridgy steep of Salisbury Crag, cut off abruptly by +Nature's boldest hand, and Arthur's Seat overlooking all, like a lioness +watching her cubs? Or shall I turn to the far-off Pentland Hills, with +Craig-Crook nestling beneath them, where lives the prince of critics and +the king of men? Or cast my eye unsated over the Frith of Forth, that +from my window of an evening (as I read of AMY and her love) glitters +like a broad golden mirror in the sun, and kisses the winding shores of +kingly Fife? Oh no! But to thee, to thee I turn, North Berwick-Law, +with thy blue cone rising out of summer seas; for thou art the beacon of +my banished thoughts, and dost point my way to her, who is my heart's +true home. The air is too thin for me, that has not the breath of Love +in it; that is not embalmed by her sighs! + + + + +A THOUGHT + + +I am not mad, but my heart is so; and raves within me, fierce and +untameable, like a panther in its den, and tries to get loose to its +lost mate, and fawn on her hand, and bend lowly at her feet. + + + + +ANOTHER + + +Oh! thou dumb heart, lonely, sad, shut up in the prison-house of this +rude form, that hast never found a fellow but for an instant, and in +very mockery of thy misery, speak, find bleeding words to express thy +thoughts, break thy dungeon-gloom, or die pronouncing thy Infelice's +name! + + + + +ANOTHER + + +Within my heart is lurking suspicion, and base fear, and shame and hate; +but above all, tyrannous love sits throned, crowned with her graces, +silent and in tears. + + + + +LETTER IX + + +My dear P----, You have been very kind to me in this business; but I +fear even your indulgence for my infirmities is beginning to fail. To +what a state am I reduced, and for what? For fancying a little artful +vixen to be an angel and a saint, because she affected to look like one, +to hide her rank thoughts and deadly purposes. Has she not murdered me +under the mask of the tenderest friendship? And why? Because I have +loved her with unutterable love, and sought to make her my wife. You +say it is my own "outrageous conduct" that has estranged her: nay, I +have been TOO GENTLE with her. I ask you first in candour whether the +ambiguity of her behaviour with respect to me, sitting and fondling a +man (circumstanced as I was) sometimes for half a day together, and then +declaring she had no love for him beyond common regard, and professing +never to marry, was not enough to excite my suspicions, which the +different exposures from the conversations below-stairs were not +calculated to allay? I ask you what you yourself would have felt or +done, if loving her as I did, you had heard what I did, time after time? + Did not her mother own to one of the grossest charges (which I shall +not repeat)--and is such indelicacy to be reconciled with her pretended +character (that character with which I fell in love, and to which I +MADE LOVE) without supposing her to be the greatest hypocrite in the +world? My unpardonable offence has been that I took her at her word, +and was willing to believe her the precise little puritanical person she +set up for. After exciting her wayward desires by the fondest embraces +and the purest kisses, as if she had been "made my wedded wife +yestreen," or was to become so to-morrow (for that was always my feeling +with respect to her)--I did not proceed to gratify them, or to follow up +my advantage by any action which should declare, "I think you a common +adventurer, and will see whether you are so or not!" Yet any one but a +credulous fool like me would have made the experiment, with whatever +violence to himself, as a matter of life and death; for I had every +reason to distrust appearances. Her conduct has been of a piece from +the beginning. In the midst of her closest and falsest endearments, she +has always (with one or two exceptions) disclaimed the natural inference +to be drawn from them, and made a verbal reservation, by which she might +lead me on in a Fool's Paradise, and make me the tool of her levity, her +avarice, and her love of intrigue as long as she liked, and dismiss me +whenever it suited her. This, you see, she has done, because my +intentions grew serious, and if complied with, would deprive her of THE +PLEASURES OF A SINGLE LIFE! Offer marriage to this "tradesman's +daughter, who has as nice a sense of honour as any one can have;" and +like Lady Bellaston in Tom Jones, she CUTS you immediately in a fit +of abhorrence and alarm. Yet she seemed to be of a different mind +formerly, when struggling from me in the height of our first intimacy, +she exclaimed--"However I might agree to my own ruin, I never will +consent to bring disgrace upon my family!" That I should have spared +the traitress after expressions like this, astonishes me when I look +back upon it. Yet if it were all to do over again, I know I should act +just the same part. Such is her power over me! I cannot run the least +risk of offending her--I love her so. When I look in her face, I cannot +doubt her truth! Wretched being that I am! I have thrown away my heart +and soul upon an unfeeling girl; and my life (that might have been so +happy, had she been what I thought her) will soon follow either +voluntarily, or by the force of grief, remorse, and disappointment. I +cannot get rid of the reflection for an instant, nor even seek relief +from its galling pressure. Ah! what a heart she has lost! All the love +and affection of my whole life were centred in her, who alone, I +thought, of all women had found out my true character, and knew how to +value my tenderness. Alas! alas! that this, the only hope, joy, or +comfort I ever had, should turn to a mockery, and hang like an ugly film +over the remainder of my days!--I was at Roslin Castle yesterday. It +lies low in a rude, but sheltered valley, hid from the vulgar gaze, and +powerfully reminds one of the old song. The straggling fragments of the +russet ruins, suspended smiling and graceful in the air as if they would +linger out another century to please the curious beholder, the green +larch-trees trembling between with the blue sky and white silver clouds, +the wild mountain plants starting out here and there, the date of the +year on an old low door-way, but still more, the beds of flowers in +orderly decay, that seem to have no hand to tend them, but keep up a +sort of traditional remembrance of civilization in former ages, present +altogether a delightful and amiable subject for contemplation. The +exquisite beauty of the scene, with the thought of what I should feel, +should I ever be restored to her, and have to lead her through such +places as my adored, my angelwife, almost drove me beside myself. For +this picture, this ecstatic vision, what have I of late instead as the +image of the reality? Demoniacal possessions. I see the young witch +seated in another's lap, twining her serpent arms round him, her eye +glancing and her cheeks on fire--why does not the hideous thought choke +me? Or why do I not go and find out the truth at once? The moonlight +streams over the silver waters: the bark is in the bay that might waft +me to her, almost with a wish. The mountain-breeze sighs out her name: +old ocean with a world of tears murmurs back my woes! Does not my heart +yearn to be with her; and shall I not follow its bidding? No, I must +wait till I am free; and then I will take my Freedom (a glad prize) and +lay it at her feet and tell her my proud love of her that would not +brook a rival in her dishonour, and that would have her all or none, and +gain her or lose myself for ever!-- + +You see by this letter the way I am in, and I hope you will excuse it as +the picture of a half-disordered mind. The least respite from my +uneasiness (such as I had yesterday) only brings the contrary reflection +back upon me, like a flood; and by letting me see the happiness I have +lost, makes me feel, by contrast, more acutely what I am doomed to bear. + + + + +LETTER X + + +Dear Friend, Here I am at St. Bees once more, amid the scenes which I +greeted in their barrenness in winter; but which have now put on their +full green attire that shews luxuriant to the eye, but speaks a tale of +sadness to this heart widowed of its last, its dearest, its only hope! +Oh! lovely Bees-Inn! here I composed a volume of law-cases, here I wrote +my enamoured follies to her, thinking her human, and that "all below was +not the fiend's"--here I got two cold, sullen answers from the little +witch, and here I was ---- and I was damned. I thought the revisiting +the old haunts would have soothed me for a time, but it only brings back +the sense of what I have suffered for her and of her unkindness the more +strongly, till I cannot endure the recollection. I eye the Heavens in +dumb despair, or vent my sorrows in the desart air. "To the winds, to +the waves, to the rocks I complain"--you may suppose with what effect! +I fear I shall be obliged to return. I am tossed about (backwards and +forwards) by my passion, so as to become ridiculous. I can now +understand how it is that mad people never remain in the same +place--they are moving on for ever, FROM THEMSELVES! + +Do you know, you would have been delighted with the effect of the +Northern twilight on this romantic country as I rode along last night? +The hills and groves and herds of cattle were seen reposing in the grey +dawn of midnight, as in a moonlight without shadow. The whole wide +canopy of Heaven shed its reflex light upon them, like a pure crystal +mirror. No sharp points, no petty details, no hard contrasts--every +object was seen softened yet distinct, in its simple outline and natural +tones, transparent with an inward light, breathing its own mild lustre. +The landscape altogether was like an airy piece of mosaic-work, or like +one of Poussin's broad massy landscapes or Titian's lovely pastoral +scenes. Is it not so, that poets see nature, veiled to the sight, but +revealed to the soul in visionary grace and grandeur! I confess the +sight touched me; and might have removed all sadness except mine. So (I +thought) the light of her celestial face once shone into my soul, and +wrapt me in a heavenly trance. The sense I have of beauty raises me for +a moment above myself, but depresses me the more afterwards, when I +recollect how it is thrown away in vain admiration, and that it only +makes me more susceptible of pain from the mortifications I meet with. +Would I had never seen her! I might then not indeed have been happy, +but at least I might have passed my life in peace, and have sunk into +forgetfulness without a pang.--The noble scenery in this country mixes +with my passion, and refines, but does not relieve it. I was at +Stirling Castle not long ago. It gave me no pleasure. The declivity +seemed to me abrupt, not sublime; for in truth I did not shrink back +from it with terror. The weather-beaten towers were stiff and formal: +the air was damp and chill: the river winded its dull, slimy way like a +snake along the marshy grounds: and the dim misty tops of Ben Leddi, and +the lovely Highlands (woven fantastically of thin air) mocked my +embraces and tempted my longing eyes like her, the sole queen and +mistress of my thoughts! I never found my contemplations on this +subject so subtilised and at the same time so desponding as on that +occasion. I wept myself almost blind, and I gazed at the broad golden +sunset through my tears that fell in showers. As I trod the green +mountain turf, oh! how I wished to be laid beneath it--in one grave with +her--that I might sleep with her in that cold bed, my hand in hers, and +my heart for ever still--while worms should taste her sweet body, that I +had never tasted! There was a time when I could bear solitude; but it +is too much for me at present. Now I am no sooner left to myself than I +am lost in infinite space, and look round me in vain for suppose or +comfort. She was my stay, my hope: without her hand to cling to, I +stagger like an infant on the edge of a precipice. The universe without +her is one wide, hollow abyss, in which my harassed thoughts can find no +resting-place. I must break off here; for the hysterica passio comes +upon me, and threatens to unhinge my reason. + + + + +LETTER XI + + +My dear and good Friend, I am afraid I trouble you with my querulous +epistles, but this is probably the last. To-morrow or the next day +decides my fate with respect to the divorce, when I expect to be a free +man. In vain! Was it not for her and to lay my freedom at her feet, +that I consented to this step which has cost me infinite perplexity, and +now to be discarded for the first pretender that came in her way! If +so, I hardly think I can survive it. You who have been a favourite with +women, do not know what it is to be deprived of one's only hope, and to +have it turned to shame and disappointment. There is nothing in the +world left that can afford me one drop of comfort--THIS I feel more +and more. Everything is to me a mockery of pleasure, like her love. +The breeze does not cool me: the blue sky does not cheer me. I gaze +only on her face averted from me--alas! the only face that ever was +turned fondly to me! And why am I thus treated? Because I wanted her +to be mine for ever in love or friendship, and did not push my gross +familiarities as far as I might. "Why can you not go on as we have +done, and say nothing about the word, FOREVER?" Was it not plain from +this that she even then meditated an escape from me to some less +sentimental lover? "Do you allow anyone else to do so?" I said to her +once, as I was toying with her. "No, not now!" was her answer; that is, +because there was nobody else in the house to take freedoms with her. I +was very well as a stopgap, but I was to be nothing more. While the +coast was clear, I had it all my own way: but the instant C---- came, +she flung herself at his head in the most barefaced way, ran breathless +up stairs before him, blushed when his foot was heard, watched for him +in the passage, and was sure to be in close conference with him when he +went down again. It was then my mad proceedings commenced. No wonder. +Had I not reason to be jealous of every appearance of familiarity with +others, knowing how easy she had been with me at first, and that she +only grew shy when I did not take farther liberties? What has her +character to rest upon but her attachment to me, which she now denies, +not modestly, but impudently? Will you yourself say that if she had all +along no particular regard for me, she will not do as much or more with +other more likely men? "She has had," she says, "enough of my +conversation," so it could not be that! Ah! my friend, it was not to be +supposed I should ever meet even with the outward demonstrations of +regard from any woman but a common trader in the endearments of love! I +have tasted the sweets of the well practiced illusion, and now feel the +bitterness of knowing what a bliss I am deprived of, and must ever be +deprived of. Intolerable conviction! Yet I might, I believe, have won +her by other methods; but some demon held my hand. How indeed could I +offer her the least insult when I worshipped her very footsteps; and +even now pay her divine honours from my inmost heart, whenever I think +of her, abased and brutalised as I have been by that Circean cup of +kisses, of enchantments, of which I have drunk! I am choked, withered, +dried up with chagrin, remorse, despair, from which I have not a +moment's respite, day or night. I have always some horrid dream about +her, and wake wondering what is the matter that "she is no longer the +same to me as ever?" I thought at least we should always remain dear +friends, if nothing more--did she not talk of coming to live with me +only the day before I left her in the winter? But "she's gone, I am +abused, and my revenge must be to LOVE her!"--Yet she knows that one +line, one word would save me, the cruel, heartless destroyer! I see +nothing for it but madness, unless Friday brings a change, or unless she +is willing to let me go back. You must know I wrote to her to that +purpose, but it was a very quiet, sober letter, begging pardon, and +professing reform for the future, and all that. What effect it will +have, I know not. I was forced to get out of the way of her answer, +till Friday came. + +Ever yours. + + + + +TO S. L. + + +My dear Miss L----, EVIL TO THEM THAT EVIL THINK, is an old saying; +and I have found it a true one. I have ruined myself by my unjust +suspicions of you. Your sweet friendship was the balm of my life; and I +have lost it, I fear for ever, by one fault and folly after another. +What would I give to be restored to the place in your esteem, which, you +assured me, I held only a few months ago! Yet I was not contented, but +did all I could to torment myself and harass you by endless doubts and +jealousy. Can you not forget and forgive the past, and judge of me by +my conduct in future? Can you not take all my follies in the lump, and +say like a good, generous girl, "Well, I'll think no more of them?" In +a word, may I come back, and try to behave better? A line to say so +would be an additional favour to so many already received by + +Your obliged friend, + +And sincere well-wisher. + + + + +LETTER XII. + +TO C. P---- + + +I have no answer from her. I'm mad. I wish you to call on M---- in +confidence, to say I intend to make her an offer of my hand, and that I +will write to her father to that effect the instant I am free, and ask +him whether he thinks it will be to any purpose, and what he would +advise me to do. + + + + +UNALTERED LOVE + + +"Love is not love that alteration finds: Oh no! it is an ever-fixed +mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken." + + +Shall I not love her for herself alone, in spite of fickleness and +folly? To love her for her regard to me, is not to love her, but +myself. She has robbed me of herself: shall she also rob me of my love +of her? Did I not live on her smile? Is it less sweet because it is +withdrawn from me? Did I not adore her every grace? Does she bend less +enchantingly, because she has turned from me to another? Is my love +then in the power of fortune, or of her caprice? No, I will have it +lasting as it is pure; and I will make a Goddess of her, and build a +temple to her in my heart, and worship her on indestructible altars, and +raise statues to her: and my homage shall be unblemished as her +unrivalled symmetry of form; and when that fails, the memory of it shall +survive; and my bosom shall be proof to scorn, as hers has been to pity; +and I will pursue her with an unrelenting love, and sue to be her slave, +and tend her steps without notice and without reward; and serve her +living, and mourn for her when dead. And thus my love will have shewn +itself superior to her hate; and I shall triumph and then die. This is +my idea of the only true and heroic love! Such is mine for her. + + + + +PERFECT LOVE + + +Perfect love has this advantage in it, that it leaves the possessor of +it nothing farther to desire. There is one object (at least) in which +the soul finds absolute content, for which it seeks to live, or dares to +die. The heart has as it were filled up the moulds of the imagination. +The truth of passion keeps pace with and outvies the extravagance of +mere language. There are no words so fine, no flattery so soft, that +there is not a sentiment beyond them, that it is impossible to express, +at the bottom of the heart where true love is. What idle sounds the +common phrases, adorable creature, angel, divinity, are? What a proud +reflection it is to have a feeling answering to all these, rooted in the +breast, unalterable, unutterable, to which all other feelings are light +and vain! Perfect love reposes on the object of its choice, like the +halcyon on the wave; and the air of heaven is around it. + + + + +FROM C. P., ESQ. + + +London, July 4th, 1822. + +I have seen M----! Now, my dear H----, let me entreat and adjure you to +take what I have to tell you, FOR WHAT IT IS WORTH--neither for less, +nor more. In the first place, I have learned nothing decisive from him. + This, as you will at once see, is, as far as it goes, good. I am +either to hear from him, or see him again in a day or two; but I thought +you would like to know what passed inconclusive as it was--so I write +without delay, and in great haste to save a post. I found him frank, +and even friendly in his manner to me, and in his views respecting you. +I think that he is sincerely sorry for your situation; and he feels that +the person who has placed you in that situation is not much less +awkwardly situated herself; and he professes that he would willingly do +what he can for the good of both. But he sees great difficulties +attending the affair--which he frankly professes to consider as an +altogether unfortunate one. With respect to the marriage, he seems to +see the most formidable objections to it, on both sides; but yet he by +no means decidedly says that it cannot, or that it ought not to take +place. These, mind you, are his own feelings on the subject: but the +most important point I learn from him is this, that he is not prepared +to use his influence either way--that the rest of the family are of the +same way of feeling; and that, in fact, the thing must and does entirely +rest with herself. To learn this was, as you see, gaining a great +point.--When I then endeavoured to ascertain whether he knew anything +decisive as to what are her views on the subject, I found that he did +not. He has an opinion on the subject, and he didn't scruple to tell me +what it was; but he has no positive knowledge. In short, he believes, +from what he learns from herself (and he had purposely seen her on the +subject, in consequence of my application to him) that she is at present +indisposed to the marriage; but he is not prepared to say positively +that she will not consent to it. Now all this, coming from him in the +most frank and unaffected manner, and without any appearance of cant, +caution, or reserve, I take to be most important as it respects your +views, whatever they may be; and certainly much more favourable to them +(I confess it) than I was prepared to expect, supposing them to remain +as they were. In fact as I said before, the affair rests entirely with +herself. They are none of them disposed either to further the marriage, +or throw any insurmountable obstacles in the way of it; and what is more +important than all, they are evidently by no means CERTAIN that SHE +may not, at some future period, consent to it; or they would, for her +sake as well as their own, let you know as much flatly, and put an end +to the affair at once. + +Seeing in how frank and straitforward a manner he received what I had to +say to him, and replied to it, I proceeded to ask him what were HIS +views, and what were likely to be HERS (in case she did not consent) +as to whether you should return to live in the house;--but I added, +without waiting for his answer, that if she intended to persist in +treating you as she had done for some time past, it would be worse than +madness for you to think of returning. I added that, in case you did +return, all you would expect from her would be that she would treat you +with civility and kindness--that she would continue to evince that +friendly feeling towards you, that she had done for a great length of +time, &c. To this, he said, he could really give no decisive reply, but +that he should be most happy if, by any intervention of his, he could +conduce to your comfort; but he seemed to think that for you to return +on any express understanding that she should behave to you in any +particular manner, would be to place her in a most awkward situation. +He went somewhat at length into this point, and talked very reasonably +about it; the result, however, was that he would not throw any obstacles +in the way of your return, or of her treating you as a friend, &c., nor +did it appear that he believed she would refuse to do so. And, finally, +we parted on the understanding that he would see them on the subject, +and ascertain what could be done for the comfort of all parties: though +he was of opinion that if you could make up your mind to break off the +acquaintance altogether, it would be the best plan of all. I am to hear +from him again in a day or two.--Well, what do you say to all this? Can +you turn it to any thing but good--comparative good? If you would know +what _I_ say to it, it is this:--She is still to be won by wise and +prudent conduct on your part; she was always to have been won by +such;--and if she is lost, it has been not, as you sometimes suppose, +because you have not carried that unwise, may I not say UNWORTHY? +conduct still farther, but because you gave way to it at all. Of course +I use the terms "wise" and "prudent" with reference to your object. +Whether the pursuit of that object is wise, only yourself can judge. I +say she has all along been to be won, and she still is to be won; and +all that stands in the way of your views at this moment is your past +conduct. They are all of them, every soul, frightened at you; they have +SEEN enough of you to make them so; and they have doubtless heard ten +times more than they have seen, or than anyone else has seen. They are +all of them including M---- (and particularly she herself) frightened +out of their wits, as to what might be your treatment of her if she were +yours; and they dare not trust you--they will not trust you, at present. + I do not say that they will trust you, or rather that SHE will, for +it all depends on her, when you have gone through a probation, but I am +sure that she will not trust you till you have. You will, I hope, not +be angry with me when I say that she would be a fool if she did. If she +were to accept you at present, and without knowing more of you, even I +should begin to suspect that she had an unworthy motive for doing it. +Let me not forget to mention what is perhaps as important a point as +any, as it regards the marriage. I of course stated to M---- that when +you are free, you are prepared to make her a formal offer of your hand; +but I begged him, if he was certain that such an offer would be refused, +to tell me so plainly at once, that I might endeavour, in that case, to +dissuade you from subjecting yourself to the pain of such a refusal. +HE WOULD NOT TELL ME THAT HE WAS CERTAIN. He said his opinion was +that she would not accept your offer, but still he seemed to think that +there would be no harm in making it!---One word more, and a very +important one. He once, and without my referring in the slightest +manner to that part of the subject, spoke of her as a GOOD GIRL, and +LIKELY TO MAKE ANY MAN AN EXCELLENT WIFE! Do you think if she were a +bad girl (and if she were, he must know her to be so) he would have +dared to do this, under these circumstances?--And once, in speaking of +HIS not being a fit person to set his face against "marrying for +love," he added "I did so myself, and out of that house; and I have had +reason to rejoice at it ever since." And mind (for I anticipate your +cursed suspicions) I'm certain, at least, if manner can entitle one to +be certain of any thing, that he said all this spontaneously, and +without any understood motive; and I'm certain, too, that he knows you +to be a person that it would not do to play any tricks of this kind +with. I believe--(and all this would never have entered my thoughts, +but that I know it will enter yours) I believe that even if they thought +(as you have sometimes supposed they do) that she needs whitewashing, or +making an honest woman of, YOU would be the last person they would +think of using for such a purpose, for they know (as well as I do) that +you couldn't fail to find out the trick in a month, and would turn her +into the street the next moment, though she were twenty times your +wife--and that, as to the consequences of doing so, you would laugh at +them, even if you couldn't escape from them.--I shall lose the post if I +say more. + +Believe me, + +Ever truly your friend, + +C. P. + + + + +LETTER XIII + + +My dear P----, You have saved my life. If I do not keep friends with +her now, I deserve to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. She is an angel +from Heaven, and you cannot pretend I ever said a word to the contrary! +The little rogue must have liked me from the first, or she never could +have stood all these hurricanes without slipping her cable. What could +she find in me? "I have mistook my person all this while," &c. Do you +know I saw a picture, the very pattern of her, the other day, at +Dalkeith Palace (Hope finding Fortune in the Sea), just before this +blessed news came, and the resemblance drove me almost out of my senses. + Such delicacy, such fulness, such perfect softness, such buoyancy, such +grace! If it is not the very image of her, I am no judge.--You have the +face to doubt my making the best husband in the world; you might as well +doubt it if I was married to one of the Houris of Paradise. She is a +saint, an angel, a love. If she deceives me again, she kills me. But I +will have such a kiss when I get back, as shall last me twenty years. +May God bless her for not utterly disowning and destroying me! What an +exquisite little creature it is, and how she holds out to the last in +her system of consistent contradictions! Since I wrote to you about +making a formal proposal, I have had her face constantly before me, +looking so like some faultless marble statue, as cold, as fixed and +graceful as ever statue did; the expression (nothing was ever like +THAT!) seemed to say--"I wish I could love you better than I do, but +still I will be yours." No, I'll never believe again that she will not +be mine; for I think she was made on purpose for me. If there's anyone +else that understands that turn of her head as I do, I'll give her up +without scruple. I have made up my mind to this, never to dream of +another woman, while she even thinks it worth her while to REFUSE TO +HAVE ME. You see I am not hard to please, after all. Did M---- know +of the intimacy that had subsisted between us? Or did you hint at it? +I think it would be a CLENCHER, if he did. How ought I to behave when +I go back? Advise a fool, who had nearly lost a Goddess by his folly. +The thing was, I could not think it possible she would ever like ME. +Her taste is singular, but not the worse for that. I'd rather have her +love, or liking (call it what you will) than empires. I deserve to call +her mine; for nothing else CAN atone for what I've gone through for +her. I hope your next letter will not reverse all, and then I shall be +happy till I see her,--one of the blest when I do see her, if she looks +like my own beautiful love. I may perhaps write a line when I come to +my right wits.--Farewel at present, and thank you a thousand times for +what you have done for your poor friend. + +P. S.--I like what M---- said about her sister, much. There are good +people in the world: I begin to see it, and believe it. + + + + +LETTER THE LAST + + +Dear P----, To-morrow is the decisive day that makes me or mars me. I +will let you know the result by a line added to this. Yet what +signifies it, since either way I have little hope there, "whence alone +my hope cometh!" You must know I am strangely in the dumps at this +present writing. My reception with her is doubtful, and my fate is then +certain. The hearing of your happiness has, I own, made me thoughtful. +It is just what I proposed to her to do--to have crossed the Alps with +me, to sail on sunny seas, to bask in Italian skies, to have visited +Vevai and the rocks of Meillerie, and to have repeated to her on the +spot the story of Julia and St. Preux, and to have shewn her all that my +heart had stored up for her--but on my forehead alone is +written--REJECTED! Yet I too could have adored as fervently, and loved +as tenderly as others, had I been permitted. You are going abroad, you +say, happy in making happy. Where shall I be? In the grave, I hope, or +else in her arms. To me, alas! there is no sweetness out of her sight, +and that sweetness has turned to bitterness, I fear; that gentleness to +sullen scorn! Still I hope for the best. If she will but HAVE me, +I'll make her LOVE me: and I think her not giving a positive answer +looks like it, and also shews that there is no one else. Her holding +out to the last also, I think, proves that she was never to have been +gained but with honour. She's a strange, almost an inscrutable girl: +but if I once win her consent, I shall kill her with kindness.--Will you +let me have a sight of SOMEBODY before you go? I should be most +proud. I was in hopes to have got away by the Steam-boat to-morrow, but +owing to the business not coming on till then, I cannot; and may not be +in town for another week, unless I come by the Mail, which I am strongly +tempted to do. In the latter case I shall be there, and visible on +Saturday evening. Will you look in and see, about eight o'clock? I +wish much to see you and her and J. H. and my little boy once more; and +then, if she is not what she once was to me, I care not if I die that +instant. I will conclude here till to-morrow, as I am getting into my +old melancholy.-- + +It is all over, and I am my own man, and yours ever-- + + + + + +PART III + + + + +ADDRESSED TO J. S. K.---- + + +My dear K----, It is all over, and I know my fate. I told you I would +send you word, if anything decisive happened; but an impenetrable +mystery hung over the affair till lately. It is at last (by the merest +accident in the world) dissipated; and I keep my promise, both for your +satisfaction, and for the ease of my own mind. + +You remember the morning when I said "I will go and repose my sorrows at +the foot of Ben Lomond"--and when from Dumbarton Bridge its +giant-shadow, clad in air and sunshine, appeared in view. We had a +pleasant day's walk. We passed Smollett's monument on the road (somehow +these poets touch one in reflection more than most military +heroes)--talked of old times; you repeated Logan's beautiful verses to +the cuckoo,* which I wanted to compare with Wordsworth's, but my courage +failed me; you then told me some passages of an early attachment which +was suddenly broken off; we considered together which was the most to be +pitied, a disappointment in love where the attachment was mutual or one +where there has been no return, and we both agreed, I think, that the +former was best to be endured, and that to have the consciousness of it +a companion for life was the least evil of the two, as there was a +secret sweetness that took off the bitterness and the sting of regret, +and "the memory of what once had been" atoned, in some measure, and at +intervals, for what "never more could be." In the other case, there was +nothing to look back to with tender satisfaction, no redeeming trait, +not even a possibility of turning it to good. It left behind it not +cherished sighs, but stifled pangs. The galling sense of it did not +bring moisture into the eyes, but dried up the heart ever after. One +had been my fate, the other had been yours! + + +[*--"Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou +hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year." + +So they begin. It was the month of May; the cuckoo sang shrouded in +some woody copse; the showers fell between whiles; my friend repeated +the lines with native enthusiasm in a clear manly voice, still resonant +of youth and hope. Mr. Wordsworth will excuse me, if in these +circumstances I declined entering the field with his profounder +metaphysical strain, and kept my preference to myself.] + + +You startled me every now and then from my reverie by the robust voice, +in which you asked the country people (by no means prodigal of their +answers)--"If there was any trout fishing in those streams?"--and our +dinner at Luss set us up for the rest of our day's march. The sky now +became overcast; but this, I think, added to the effect of the scene. +The road to Tarbet is superb. It is on the very verge of the +lake--hard, level, rocky, with low stone bridges constantly flung across +it, and fringed with birch trees, just then budding into spring, behind +which, as through a slight veil, you saw the huge shadowy form of Ben +Lomond. It lifts its enormous but graceful bulk direct from the edge of +the water without any projecting lowlands, and has in this respect much +the advantage of Skiddaw. Loch Lomond comes upon you by degrees as you +advance, unfolding and then withdrawing its conscious beauties like an +accomplished coquet. You are struck with the point of a rock, the arch +of a bridge, the Highland huts (like the first rude habitations of men) +dug out of the soil, built of turf, and covered with brown heather, a +sheep-cote, some straggling cattle feeding half-way down a precipice; +but as you advance farther on, the view expands into the perfection of +lake scenery. It is nothing (or your eye is caught by nothing) but +water, earth, and sky. Ben Lomond waves to the right, in its simple +majesty, cloud-capt or bare, and descending to a point at the head of +the lake, shews the Trossacs beyond, tumbling about their blue ridges +like woods waving; to the left is the Cobler, whose top is like a castle +shattered in pieces and nodding to its ruin; and at your side rise the +shapes of round pastoral hills, green, fleeced with herds, and retiring +into mountainous bays and upland valleys, where solitude and peace might +make their lasting home, if peace were to be found in solitude! That it +was not always so, I was a sufficient proof; for there was one image +that alone haunted me in the midst of all this sublimity and beauty, and +turned it to a mockery and a dream! + +The snow on the mountain would not let us ascend; and being weary of +waiting and of being visited by the guide every two hours to let us know +that the weather would not do, we returned, you homewards, and I to +London-- + + +"Italiam, Italiam!" + + +You know the anxious expectations with which I set out:--now hear the +result-- + +As the vessel sailed up the Thames, the air thickened with the +consciousness of being near her, and I "heaved her name pantingly +forth." As I approached the house, I could not help thinking of the +lines-- + + +"How near am I to a happiness, That earth exceeds not! Not another like +it. The treasures of the deep are not so precious As are the conceal'd +comforts of a man Lock'd up in woman's love. I scent the air Of +blessings when I come but near the house. What a delicious breath true +love sends forth! The violet-beds not sweeter. Now for a welcome Able +to draw men's envies upon man: A kiss now that will hang upon my lip, As +sweet as morning dew upon a rose, And full as long!" + + +I saw her, but I saw at the first glance that there was something amiss. + It was with much difficulty and after several pressing intreaties that +she was prevailed on to come up into the room; and when she did, she +stood at the door, cold, distant, averse; and when at length she was +persuaded by my repeated remonstrances to come and take my hand, and I +offered to touch her lips, she turned her head and shrunk from my +embraces, as if quite alienated or mortally offended. I asked what it +could mean? What had I done in her absence to have incurred her +displeasure? Why had she not written to me? I could get only short, +sullen, disconnected answers, as if there was something labouring in her +mind which she either could not or would not impart. I hardly knew how +to bear this first reception after so long an absence, and so different +from the one my sentiments towards her merited; but I thought it +possible it might be prudery (as I had returned without having actually +accomplished what I went about) or that she had taken offence at +something in my letters. She saw how much I was hurt. I asked her, "If +she was altered since I went away?"--"No." "If there was any one else +who had been so fortunate as to gain her favourable opinion?"--"No, +there was no one else." "What was it then? Was it any thing in my +letters? Or had I displeased her by letting Mr. P---- know she wrote to +me?"--"No, not at all; but she did not apprehend my last letter required +any answer, or she would have replied to it." All this appeared to me +very unsatisfactory and evasive; but I could get no more from her, and +was obliged to let her go with a heavy, foreboding heart. I however +found that C---- was gone, and no one else had been there, of whom I had +cause to be jealous.--"Should I see her on the morrow?"--"She believed +so, but she could not promise." The next morning she did not appear +with the breakfast as usual. At this I grew somewhat uneasy. The +little Buonaparte, however, was placed in its old position on the +mantelpiece, which I considered as a sort of recognition of old times. +I saw her once or twice casually; nothing particular happened till the +next day, which was Sunday. I took occasion to go into the parlour for +the newspaper, which she gave me with a gracious smile, and seemed +tolerably frank and cordial. This of course acted as a spell upon me. +I walked out with my little boy, intending to go and dine out at one or +two places, but I found that I still contrived to bend my steps towards +her, and I went back to take tea at home. While we were out, I talked +to William about Sarah, saying that she too was unhappy, and asking him +to make it up with her. He said, if she was unhappy, he would not bear +her malice any more. When she came up with the tea-things, I said to +her, "William has something to say to you--I believe he wants to be +friends." On which he said in his abrupt, hearty manner, "Sarah, I'm +sorry if I've ever said anything to vex you"--so they shook hands, and +she said, smiling affably--"THEN I'll think no more of it!" I +added--"I see you've brought me back my little Buonaparte"--She answered +with tremulous softness--"I told you I'd keep it safe for you!"--as if +her pride and pleasure in doing so had been equal, and she had, as it +were, thought of nothing during my absence but how to greet me with this +proof of her fidelity on my return. I cannot describe her manner. Her +words are few and simple; but you can have no idea of the exquisite, +unstudied, irresistible graces with which she accompanies them, unless +you can suppose a Greek statue to smile, move, and speak. Those lines +in Tibullus seem to have been written on purpose for her-- + + +Quicquid agit quoquo vestigil vertit, Componit furtim, subsequiturque +decor. + + +Or what do you think of those in a modern play, which might actually +have been composed with an eye to this little trifler-- + + +--"See with what a waving air she goes Along the corridor. How like a +fawn! Yet statelier. No sound (however soft) Nor gentlest echo telleth +when she treads, But every motion of her shape doth seem Hallowed by +silence. So did Hebe grow Among the gods a paragon! Away, I'm grown The +very fool of Love!" + + +The truth is, I never saw anything like her, nor I never shall again. +How then do I console myself for the loss of her? Shall I tell you, but +you will not mention it again? I am foolish enough to believe that she +and I, in spite of every thing, shall be sitting together over a +sea-coal fire, a comfortable good old couple, twenty years hence! But +to my narrative.-- + +I was delighted with the alteration in her manner, and said, referring +to the bust--"You know it is not mine, but yours; I gave it you; nay, I +have given you all--my heart, and whatever I possess, is yours! She +seemed good-humouredly to decline this carte blanche offer, and waved, +like a thing of enchantment, out of the room. False calm!--Deceitful +smiles!--Short interval of peace, followed by lasting woe! I sought an +interview with her that same evening. I could not get her to come any +farther than the door. "She was busy--she could hear what I had to say +there." Why do you seem to avoid me as you do? Not one five minutes' +conversation, for the sake of old acquaintance? Well, then, for the +sake of THE LITTLE IMAGE!" The appeal seemed to have lost its +efficacy; the charm was broken; she remained immoveable. "Well, then I +must come to you, if you will not run away." I went and sat down in a +chair near the door, and took her hand, and talked to her for three +quarters of an hour; and she listened patiently, thoughtfully, and +seemed a good deal affected by what I said. I told her how much I had +felt, how much I had suffered for her in my absence, and how much I had +been hurt by her sudden silence, for which I knew not how to account. I +could have done nothing to offend her while I was away; and my letters +were, I hoped, tender and respectful. I had had but one thought ever +present with me; her image never quitted my side, alone or in company, +to delight or distract me. Without her I could have no peace, nor ever +should again, unless she would behave to me as she had done formerly. +There was no abatement of my regard to her; why was she so changed? I +said to her, "Ah! Sarah, when I think that it is only a year ago that +you were everything to me I could wish, and that now you seem lost to me +for ever, the month of May (the name of which ought to be a signal for +joy and hope) strikes chill to my heart.--How different is this meeting +from that delicious parting, when you seemed never weary of repeating +the proofs of your regard and tenderness, and it was with difficulty we +tore ourselves asunder at last! I am ten thousand times fonder of you +than I was then, and ten thousand times more unhappy!" "You have no +reason to be so; my feelings towards you are the same as they ever +were." I told her "She was my all of hope or comfort: my passion for +her grew stronger every time I saw her." She answered, "She was sorry +for it; for THAT she never could return." I said something about +looking ill: she said in her pretty, mincing, emphatic way, "I despise +looks!" So, thought I, it is not that; and she says there's no one +else: it must be some strange air she gives herself, in consequence of +the approaching change in my circumstances. She has been probably +advised not to give up till all is fairly over, and then she will be my +own sweet girl again. All this time she was standing just outside the +door, my hand in hers (would that they could have grown together!) she +was dressed in a loose morning-gown, her hair curled beautifully; she +stood with her profile to me, and looked down the whole time. No +expression was ever more soft or perfect. Her whole attitude, her whole +form, was dignity and bewitching grace. I said to her, "You look like a +queen, my love, adorned with your own graces!" I grew idolatrous, and +would have kneeled to her. She made a movement, as if she was +displeased. I tried to draw her towards me. She wouldn't. I then got +up, and offered to kiss her at parting. I found she obstinately +refused. This stung me to the quick. It was the first time in her life +she had ever done so. There must be some new bar between us to produce +these continued denials; and she had not even esteem enough left to tell +me so. I followed her half-way down-stairs, but to no purpose, and +returned into my room, confirmed in my most dreadful surmises. I could +bear it no longer. I gave way to all the fury of disappointed hope and +jealous passion. I was made the dupe of trick and cunning, killed with +cold, sullen scorn; and, after all the agony I had suffered, could +obtain no explanation why I was subjected to it. I was still to be +tantalized, tortured, made the cruel sport of one, for whom I would have +sacrificed all. I tore the locket which contained her hair (and which I +used to wear continually in my bosom, as the precious token of her dear +regard) from my neck, and trampled it in pieces. I then dashed the +little Buonaparte on the ground, and stamped upon it, as one of her +instruments of mockery. I could not stay in the room; I could not leave +it; my rage, my despair were uncontrollable. I shrieked curses on her +name, and on her false love; and the scream I uttered (so pitiful and so +piercing was it, that the sound of it terrified me) instantly brought +the whole house, father, mother, lodgers and all, into the room. They +thought I was destroying her and myself. I had gone into the bedroom, +merely to hide away from myself, and as I came out of it, raging-mad +with the new sense of present shame and lasting misery, Mrs. F---- +said, "She's in there! He has got her in there!" thinking the cries had +proceeded from her, and that I had been offering her violence. "Oh! +no," I said, "She's in no danger from me; I am not the person;" and +tried to burst from this scene of degradation. The mother endeavoured +to stop me, and said, "For God's sake, don't go out, Mr. ----! for +God's sake, don't!" Her father, who was not, I believe, in the secret, +and was therefore justly scandalised at such outrageous conduct, said +angrily, "Let him go! Why should he stay?" I however sprang down +stairs, and as they called out to me, "What is it?--What has she done to +you?" I answered, "She has murdered me!--She has destroyed me for +ever!--She has doomed my soul to perdition!" I rushed out of the house, +thinking to quit it forever; but I was no sooner in the street, than the +desolation and the darkness became greater, more intolerable; and the +eddying violence of my passion drove me back to the source, from whence +it sprung. This unexpected explosion, with the conjectures to which it +would give rise, could not be very agreeable to the precieuse or her +family; and when I went back, the father was waiting at the door, as if +anticipating this sudden turn of my feelings, with no friendly aspect. +I said, "I have to beg pardon, Sir; but my mad fit is over, and I wish +to say a few words to you in private." He seemed to hesitate, but some +uneasy forebodings on his own account, probably, prevailed over his +resentment; or, perhaps (as philosophers have a desire to know the cause +of thunder) it was a natural curiosity to know what circumstances of +provocation had given rise to such an extraordinary scene of confusion. +When we reached my room, I requested him to be seated. I said, "It is +true, Sir, I have lost my peace of mind for ever, but at present I am +quite calm and collected, and I wish to explain to you why I have +behaved in so extravagant a way, and to ask for your advice and +intercession." He appeared satisfied, and I went on. I had no chance +either of exculpating myself, or of probing the question to the bottom, +but by stating the naked truth, and therefore I said at once, "Sarah +told me, Sir (and I never shall forget the way in which she told me, +fixing her dove's eyes upon me, and looking a thousand tender reproaches +for the loss of that good opinion, which she held dearer than all the +world) she told me, Sir, that as you one day passed the door, which +stood a-jar, you saw her in an attitude which a good deal startled you; +I mean sitting in my lap, with her arms round my neck, and mine twined +round her in the fondest manner. What I wished to ask was, whether this +was actually the case, or whether it was a mere invention of her own, to +enhance the sense of my obligations to her; for I begin to doubt +everything?"--"Indeed, it was so; and very much surprised and hurt I was +to see it." "Well then, Sir, I can only say, that as you saw her +sitting then, so she had been sitting for the last year and a half, +almost every day of her life, by the hour together; and you may judge +yourself, knowing what a nice modest-looking girl she is, whether, after +having been admitted to such intimacy with so sweet a creature, and for +so long a time, it is not enough to make any one frantic to be received +by her as I have been since my return, without any provocation given or +cause assigned for it." The old man answered very seriously, and, as I +think, sincerely, "What you now tell me, Sir, mortifies and shocks me as +much as it can do yourself. I had no idea such a thing was possible. I +was much pained at what I saw; but I thought it an accident, and that it +would never happen again."--"It was a constant habit; it has happened a +hundred times since, and a thousand before. I lived on her caresses as +my daily food, nor can I live without them." So I told him the whole +story, "what conjurations, and what mighty magic I won his daughter +with," to be anything but MINE FOR LIFE. Nothing could well exceed +his astonishment and apparent mortification. "What I had said," he +owned, "had left a weight upon his mind that he should not easily get +rid of." I told him, "For myself, I never could recover the blow I had +received. I thought, however, for her own sake, she ought to alter her +present behaviour. Her marked neglect and dislike, so far from +justifying, left her former intimacies without excuse; for nothing could +reconcile them to propriety, or even a pretence to common decency, but +either love, or friendship so strong and pure that it could put on the +guise of love. She was certainly a singular girl. Did she think it +right and becoming to be free with strangers, and strange to old +friends?" I frankly declared, "I did not see how it was in human nature +for any one who was not rendered callous to such familiarities by +bestowing them indiscriminately on every one, to grant the extreme and +continued indulgences she had done to me, without either liking the man +at first, or coming to like him in the end, in spite of herself. When +my addresses had nothing, and could have nothing honourable in them, she +gave them every encouragement; when I wished to make them honourable, +she treated them with the utmost contempt. The terms we had been all +along on were such as if she had been to be my bride next day. It was +only when I wished her actually to become so, to ensure her own +character and my happiness, that she shrunk back with precipitation and +panic-fear. There seemed to me something wrong in all this; a want both +of common propriety, and I might say, of natural feeling; yet, with all +her faults, I loved her, and ever should, beyond any other human being. +I had drank in the poison of her sweetness too long ever to be cured of +it; and though I might find it to be poison in the end, it was still in +my veins. My only ambition was to be permitted to live with her, and to +die in her arms. Be she what she would, treat me how she would, I felt +that my soul was wedded to hers; and were she a mere lost creature, I +would try to snatch her from perdition, and marry her to-morrow if she +would have me. That was the question--"Would she have me, or would she +not?" He said he could not tell; but should not attempt to put any +constraint upon her inclinations, one way or other. I acquiesced, and +added, that "I had brought all this upon myself, by acting contrary to +the suggestions of my friend, Mr. ----, who had desired me to take no +notice whether she came near me or kept away, whether she smiled or +frowned, was kind or contemptuous--all you have to do, is to wait +patiently for a month till you are your own man, as you will be in all +probability; then make her an offer of your hand, and if she refuses, +there's an end of the matter." Mr. L. said, "Well, Sir, and I don't +think you can follow a better advice!" I took this as at least a sort +of negative encouragement, and so we parted. + + + + +TO THE SAME + + +(In continuation) + + +My dear Friend, The next day I felt almost as sailors must do after a +violent storm over-night, that has subsided towards daybreak. The +morning was a dull and stupid calm, and I found she was unwell, in +consequence of what had happened. In the evening I grew more uneasy, +and determined on going into the country for a week or two. I gathered +up the fragments of the locket of her hair, and the little bronze +statue, which were strewed about the floor, kissed them, folded them up +in a sheet of paper, and sent them to her, with these lines written in +pencil on the outside--"Pieces of a broken heart, to be kept in +remembrance of the unhappy. Farewell." No notice was taken; nor did I +expect any. The following morning I requested Betsey to pack up my box +for me, as I should go out of town the next day, and at the same time +wrote a note to her sister to say, I should take it as a favour if she +would please to accept of the enclosed copies of the Vicar of +Wakefield, The Man of Feeling and Nature and Art, in lieu of three +volumes of my own writings, which I had given her on different +occasions, in the course of our acquaintance. I was piqued, in fact, +that she should have these to shew as proofs of my weakness, and as if I +thought the way to win her was by plaguing her with my own performances. + +She sent me word back that the books I had sent were of no use to her, +and that I should have those I wished for in the afternoon; but that she +could not before, as she had lent them to her sister, Mrs. M----. I +said, "very well;" but observed (laughing) to Betsey, "It's a bad rule +to give and take; so, if Sarah won't have these books, you must; they +are very pretty ones, I assure you." She curtsied and took them, +according to the family custom. In the afternoon, when I came back to +tea, I found the little girl on her knees, busy in packing up my things, +and a large paper parcel on the table, which I could not at first tell +what to make of. On opening it, however, I soon found what it was. It +contained a number of volumes which I had given her at different times +(among others, a little Prayer-Book, bound in crimson velvet, with green +silk linings; she kissed it twenty times when she received it, and said +it was the prettiest present in the world, and that she would shew it to +her aunt, who would be proud of it)--and all these she had returned +together. Her name in the title-page was cut out of them all. I +doubted at the instant whether she had done this before or after I had +sent for them back, and I have doubted of it since; but there is no +occasion to suppose her UGLY ALL OVER WITH HYPOCRISY. Poor little +thing! She has enough to answer for, as it is. I asked Betsey if she +could carry a message for me, and she said "YES." "Will you tell your +sister, then, that I did not want all these books; and give my love to +her, and say that I shall be obliged if she will still keep these that I +have sent back, and tell her that it is only those of my own writing +that I think unworthy of her." What do you think the little imp made +answer? She raised herself on the other side of the table where she +stood, as if inspired by the genius of the place, and said--"AND THOSE +ARE THE ONES THAT SHE PRIZES THE MOST!" If there were ever words spoken +that could revive the dead, those were the words. Let me kiss them, and +forget that my ears have heard aught else! I said, "Are you sure of +that?" and she said, "Yes, quite sure." I told her, "If I could be, I +should be very different from what I was." And I became so that +instant, for these casual words carried assurance to my heart of her +esteem--that once implied, I had proofs enough of her fondness. Oh! how +I felt at that moment! Restored to love, hope, and joy, by a breath +which I had caught by the merest accident, and which I might have pined +in absence and mute despair for want of hearing! I did not know how to +contain myself; I was childish, wanton, drunk with pleasure. I gave +Betsey a twenty-shilling note which I happened to have in my hand, and +on her asking "What's this for, Sir?" I said, "It's for you. Don't you +think it worth that to be made happy? You once made me very wretched by +some words I heard you drop, and now you have made me as happy; and all +I wish you is, when you grow up, that you may find some one to love you +as well as I do your sister, and that you may love better than she does +me!" I continued in this state of delirium or dotage all that day and +the next, talked incessantly, laughed at every thing, and was so +extravagant, nobody could tell what was the matter with me. I murmured +her name; I blest her; I folded her to my heart in delicious fondness; I +called her by my own name; I worshipped her: I was mad for her. I told +P---- I should laugh in her face, if ever she pretended not to like me +again. Her mother came in and said, she hoped I should excuse Sarah's +coming up. "Oh, Ma'am," I said, "I have no wish to see her; I feel her +at my heart; she does not hate me after all, and I wish for nothing. +Let her come when she will, she is to me welcomer than light, than life; +but let it be in her own sweet time, and at her own dear pleasure." +Betsey also told me she was "so glad to get the books back." I, +however, sobered and wavered (by degrees) from seeing nothing of her, +day after day; and in less than a week I was devoted to the Infernal +Gods. I could hold out no longer than the Monday evening following. I +sent a message to her; she returned an ambiguous answer; but she came +up. Pity me, my friend, for the shame of this recital. Pity me for the +pain of having ever had to make it! If the spirits of mortal creatures, +purified by faith and hope, can (according to the highest assurances) +ever, during thousands of years of smooth-rolling eternity and balmy, +sainted repose, forget the pain, the toil, the anguish, the +helplessness, and the despair they have suffered here, in this frail +being, then may I forget that withering hour, and her, that fair, pale +form that entered, my inhuman betrayer, and my only earthly love! She +said, "Did you wish to speak to me, Sir?" I said, "Yes, may I not speak +to you? I wanted to see you and be friends." I rose up, offered her an +arm-chair which stood facing, bowed on it, and knelt to her adoring. +She said (going) "If that's all, I have nothing to say." I replied, +"Why do you treat me thus? What have I done to become thus hateful to +you?" ANSWER, "I always told you I had no affection for you." You +may suppose this was a blow, after the imaginary honey-moon in which I +had passed the preceding week. I was stunned by it; my heart sunk +within me. I contrived to say, "Nay, my dear girl, not always neither; +for did you not once (if I might presume to look back to those happy, +happy times), when you were sitting on my knee as usual, embracing and +embraced, and I asked if you could not love me at last, did you not make +answer, in the softest tones that ever man heard, 'I COULD EASILY SAY +SO, WHETHER I DID OR NOT; YOU SHOULD JUDGE BY MY ACTIONS!' Was I to +blame in taking you at your word, when every hope I had depended on your +sincerity? And did you not say since I came back, 'YOUR FEELINGS TO ME +WERE THE SAME AS EVER?' Why then is your behaviour so different?" S. +"Is it nothing, your exposing me to the whole house in the way you did +the other evening?" H. "Nay, that was the consequence of your cruel +reception of me, not the cause of it. I had better have gone away last +year, as I proposed to do, unless you would give some pledge of your +fidelity; but it was your own offer that I should remain. 'Why should I +go?' you said, 'Why could we not go on the same as we had done, and say +nothing about the word FOREVER?'" S. "And how did you behave when +you returned?" H. "That was all forgiven when we last parted, and your +last words were, 'I should find you the same as ever' when I came home? +Did you not that very day enchant and madden me over again by the purest +kisses and embraces, and did I not go from you (as I said) adoring, +confiding, with every assurance of mutual esteem and friendship?" S. +"Yes, and in your absence I found that you had told my aunt what had +passed between us." H. "It was to induce her to extort your real +sentiments from you, that you might no longer make a secret of your true +regard for me, which your actions (but not your words) confessed." S. +"I own I have been guilty of improprieties, which you have gone and +repeated, not only in the house, but out of it; so that it has come to +my ears from various quarters, as if I was a light character. And I am +determined in future to be guided by the advice of my relations, and +particularly of my aunt, whom I consider as my best friend, and keep +every lodger at a proper distance." You will find hereafter that her +favourite lodger, whom she visits daily, had left the house; so that she +might easily make and keep this vow of extraordinary self-denial. +Precious little dissembler! Yet her aunt, her best friend, says, "No, +Sir, no; Sarah's no hypocrite!" which I was fool enough to believe; and +yet my great and unpardonable offence is to have entertained passing +doubts on this delicate point. I said, Whatever errors I had committed, +arose from my anxiety to have everything explained to her honour: my +conduct shewed that I had that at heart, and that I built on the purity +of her character as on a rock. My esteem for her amounted to adoration. + "She did not want adoration." It was only when any thing happened to +imply that I had been mistaken, that I committed any extravagance, +because I could not bear to think her short of perfection. "She was far +from perfection," she replied, with an air and manner (oh, my God!) as +near it as possible. "How could she accuse me of a want of regard to +her? It was but the other day, Sarah," I said to her, "when that little +circumstance of the books happened, and I fancied the expressions your +sister dropped proved the sincerity of all your kindness to me--you +don't know how my heart melted within me at the thought, that after all, +I might be dear to you. New hopes sprung up in my heart, and I felt as +Adam must have done when his Eve was created for him!" "She had heard +enough of that sort of conversation," (moving towards the door). This, +I own, was the unkindest cut of all. I had, in that case, no hopes +whatever. I felt that I had expended words in vain, and that the +conversation below stairs (which I told you of when I saw you) had +spoiled her taste for mine. If the allusion had been classical I should +have been to blame; but it was scriptural, it was a sort of religious +courtship, and Miss L. is religious! + + +At once he took his Muse and dipt her Right in the middle of the +Scripture. + + +It would not do--the lady could make neither head nor tail of it. This +is a poor attempt at levity. Alas! I am sad enough. "Would she go and +leave me so? If it was only my own behaviour, I still did not doubt of +success. I knew the sincerity of my love, and she would be convinced of +it in time. If that was all, I did not care: but tell me true, is there +not a new attachment that is the real cause of your estrangement? Tell +me, my sweet friend, and before you tell me, give me your hand (nay, +both hands) that I may have something to support me under the dreadful +conviction." She let me take her hands in mine, saying, "She supposed +there could be no objection to that,"--as if she acted on the +suggestions of others, instead of following her own will--but still +avoided giving me any answer. I conjured her to tell me the worst, and +kill me on the spot. Any thing was better than my present state. I +said, "Is it Mr. C----?" She smiled, and said with gay indifference, +"Mr. C---- was here a very short time." "Well, then, was it Mr. ----?" +She hesitated, and then replied faintly, "No." This was a mere +trick to mislead; one of the profoundnesses of Satan, in which she is an +adept. "But," she added hastily, "she could make no more confidences." +"Then," said I, "you have something to communicate." "No; but she had +once mentioned a thing of the sort, which I had hinted to her mother, +though it signified little." All this while I was in tortures. Every +word, every half-denial, stabbed me. "Had she any tie?" "No, I have no +tie!" "You are not going to be married soon?" "I don't intend ever to +marry at all!" "Can't you be friends with me as of old?" "She could +give no promises." "Would she make her own terms?" "She would make +none."--"I was sadly afraid the LITTLE IMAGE was dethroned from her +heart, as I had dashed it to the ground the other night."--"She was +neither desperate nor violent." I did not answer--"But deliberate and +deadly,"--though I might; and so she vanished in this running fight of +question and answer, in spite of my vain efforts to detain her. The +cockatrice, I said, mocks me: so she has always done. The thought was a +dagger to me. My head reeled, my heart recoiled within me. I was stung +with scorpions; my flesh crawled; I was choked with rage; her scorn +scorched me like flames; her air (her heavenly air) withdrawn from me, +stifled me, and left me gasping for breath and being. It was a fable. +She started up in her own likeness, a serpent in place of a woman. She +had fascinated, she had stung me, and had returned to her proper shape, +gliding from me after inflicting the mortal wound, and instilling deadly +poison into every pore; but her form lost none of its original +brightness by the change of character, but was all glittering, +beauteous, voluptuous grace. Seed of the serpent or of the woman, she +was divine! I felt that she was a witch, and had bewitched me. Fate +had enclosed me round about. _I_ was transformed too, no longer human +(any more than she, to whom I had knit myself) my feelings were marble; +my blood was of molten lead; my thoughts on fire. I was taken out of +myself, wrapt into another sphere, far from the light of day, of hope, +of love. I had no natural affection left; she had slain me, but no +other thing had power over me. Her arms embraced another; but her +mock-embrace, the phantom of her love, still bound me, and I had not a +wish to escape. So I felt then, and so perhaps shall feel till I grow +old and die, nor have any desire that my years should last longer than +they are linked in the chain of those amorous folds, or than her +enchantments steep my soul in oblivion of all other things! I started +to find myself alone--for ever alone, without a creature to love me. I +looked round the room for help; I saw the tables, the chairs, the places +where she stood or sat, empty, deserted, dead. I could not stay where I +was; I had no one to go to but to the parent-mischief, the preternatural +hag, that had "drugged this posset" of her daughter's charms and +falsehood for me, and I went down and (such was my weakness and +helplessness) sat with her for an hour, and talked with her of her +daughter, and the sweet days we had passed together, and said I thought +her a good girl, and believed that if there was no rival, she still had +a regard for me at the bottom of her heart; and how I liked her all the +better for her coy, maiden airs: and I received the assurance over and +over that there was no one else; and that Sarah (they all knew) never +staid five minutes with any other lodger, while with me she would stay +by the hour together, in spite of all her father could say to her (what +were her motives, was best known to herself!) and while we were talking +of her, she came bounding into the room, smiling with smothered delight +at the consummation of my folly and her own art; and I asked her mother +whether she thought she looked as if she hated me, and I took her +wrinkled, withered, cadaverous, clammy hand at parting, and kissed it. +Faugh!-- + +I will make an end of this story; there is something in it discordant to +honest ears. I left the house the next day, and returned to Scotland in +a state so near to phrenzy, that I take it the shades sometimes ran into +one another. R---- met me the day after I arrived, and will tell you +the way I was in. I was like a person in a high fever; only mine was in +the mind instead of the body. It had the same irritating, uncomfortable +effect on the bye-standers. I was incapable of any application, and +don't know what I should have done, had it not been for the kindness of +----. I came to see you, to "bestow some of my tediousness upon you," +but you were gone from home. Everything went on well as to the law +business; and as it approached to a conclusion, I wrote to my good +friend P---- to go to M----, who had married her sister, and ask him if +it would be worth my while to make her a formal offer, as soon as I was +free, as, with the least encouragement, I was ready to throw myself at +her feet; and to know, in case of refusal, whether I might go back there +and be treated as an old friend. Not a word of answer could be got from +her on either point, notwithstanding every importunity and intreaty; but +it was the opinion of M---- that I might go and try my fortune. I did +so with joy, with something like confidence. I thought her giving no +positive answer implied a chance, at least, of the reversion of her +favour, in case I behaved well. All was false, hollow, insidious. The +first night after I got home, I slept on down. In Scotland, the flint +had been my pillow. But now I slept under the same roof with her. What +softness, what balmy repose in the very thought! I saw her that same +day and shook hands with her, and told her how glad I was to see her; +and she was kind and comfortable, though still cold and distant. Her +manner was altered from what it was the last time. She still absented +herself from the room, but was mild and affable when she did come. She +was pale, dejected, evidently uneasy about something, and had been ill. +I thought it was perhaps her reluctance to yield to my wishes, her pity +for what I suffered; and that in the struggle between both, she did not +know what to do. How I worshipped her at these moments! We had a long +interview the third day, and I thought all was doing well. I found her +sitting at work in the window-seat of the front parlour; and on my +asking if I might come in, she made no objection. I sat down by her; +she let me take her hand; I talked to her of indifferent things, and of +old times. I asked her if she would put some new frills on my +shirts?---"With the greatest pleasure." If she could get THE LITTLE +IMAGE mended? "It was broken in three pieces, and the sword was gone, +but she would try." I then asked her to make up a plaid silk which I +had given her in the winter, and which she said would make a pretty +summer gown. I so longed to see her in it!--"She had little time to +spare, but perhaps might!" Think what I felt, talking peaceably, +kindly, tenderly with my love,--not passionately, not violently. I +tried to take pattern by her patient meekness, as I thought it, and to +subdue my desires to her will. I then sued to her, but respectfully, to +be admitted to her friendship--she must know I was as true a friend as +ever woman had--or if there was a bar to our intimacy from a dearer +attachment, to let me know it frankly, as I shewed her all my heart. +She drew out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes "of tears which sacred +pity had engendered there." Was it so or not? I cannot tell. But so +she stood (while I pleaded my cause to her with all the earnestness, and +fondness in the world) with the tears trickling from her eye-lashes, her +head stooping, her attitude fixed, with the finest expression that ever +was seen of mixed regret, pity, and stubborn resolution; but without +speaking a word, without altering a feature. It was like a petrifaction +of a human face in the softest moment of passion. "Ah!" I said, "how +you look! I have prayed again and again while I was away from you, in +the agony of my spirit, that I might but live to see you look so again, +and then breathe my last!" I intreated her to give me some explanation. + In vain! At length she said she must go, and disappeared like a +spirit. That week she did all the little trifling favours I had asked +of her. The frills were put on, and she sent up to know if I wanted any +more done. She got the Buonaparte mended. This was like healing old +wounds indeed! How? As follows, for thereby hangs the conclusion of my +tale. Listen. + +I had sent a message one evening to speak to her about some special +affairs of the house, and received no answer. I waited an hour +expecting her, and then went out in great vexation at my disappointment. + I complained to her mother a day or two after, saying I thought it so +unlike Sarah's usual propriety of behaviour, that she must mean it as a +mark of disrespect. Mrs. L---- said, "La! Sir, you're always fancying +things. Why, she was dressing to go out, and she was only going to get +the little image you're both so fond of mended; and it's to be done this +evening. She has been to two or three places to see about it, before +she could get anyone to undertake it." My heart, my poor fond heart, +almost melted within me at this news. I answered, "Ah! Madam, that's +always the way with the dear creature. I am finding fault with her and +thinking the hardest things of her; and at that very time she's doing +something to shew the most delicate attention, and that she has no +greater satisfaction than in gratifying my wishes!" On this we had some +farther talk, and I took nearly the whole of the lodgings at a hundred +guineas a year, that (as I said) she might have a little leisure to sit +at her needle of an evening, or to read if she chose, or to walk out +when it was fine. She was not in good health, and it would do her good +to be less confined. I would be the drudge and she should no longer be +the slave. I asked nothing in return. To see her happy, to make her +so, was to be so myself.--This was agreed to. I went over to Blackheath +that evening, delighted as I could be after all I had suffered, and lay +the whole of the next morning on the heath under the open sky, dreaming +of my earthly Goddess. This was Sunday. That evening I returned, for I +could hardly bear to be for a moment out of the house where she was, and +the next morning she tapped at the door--it was opened--it was she--she +hesitated and then came forward: she had got the little image in her +hand, I took it, and blest her from my heart. She said "They had been +obliged to put some new pieces to it." I said "I didn't care how it was +done, so that I had it restored to me safe, and by her." I thanked her +and begged to shake hands with her. She did so, and as I held the only +hand in the world that I never wished to let go, I looked up in her +face, and said "Have pity on me, have pity on me, and save me if you +can!" Not a word of answer, but she looked full in my eyes, as much as +to say, "Well, I'll think of it; and if I can, I will save you!" We +talked about the expense of repairing the figure. "Was the man +waiting?"--"No, she had fetched it on Saturday evening." I said I'd +give her the money in the course of the day, and then shook hands with +her again in token of reconciliation; and she went waving out of the +room, but at the door turned round and looked full at me, as she did the +first time she beguiled me of my heart. This was the last.-- + +All that day I longed to go down stairs to ask her and her mother to set +out with me for Scotland on Wednesday, and on Saturday I would make her +my wife. Something withheld me. In the evening, however, I could not +rest without seeing her, and I said to her younger sister, "Betsey, if +Sarah will come up now, I'll pay her what she laid out for me the other +day."--"My sister's gone out, Sir," was the answer. What again! thought +I, That's somewhat sudden. I told P---- her sitting in the window-seat +of the front parlour boded me no good. It was not in her old character. + She did not use to know there were doors or windows in the house--and +now she goes out three times in a week. It is to meet some one, I'll +lay my life on't. "Where is she gone?"--"To my grandmother's, Sir." +"Where does your grandmother live now?"--"At Somers' Town." I +immediately set out to Somers' Town. I passed one or two streets, and +at last turned up King Street, thinking it most likely she would return +that way home. I passed a house in King Street where I had once lived, +and had not proceeded many paces, ruminating on chance and change and +old times, when I saw her coming towards me. I felt a strange pang at +the sight, but I thought her alone. Some people before me moved on, and +I saw another person with her. THE MURDER WAS OUT. It was a tall, +rather well-looking young man, but I did not at first recollect him. We +passed at the crossing of the street without speaking. Will you believe +it, after all that had past between us for two years, after what had +passed in the last half-year, after what had passed that very morning, +she went by me without even changing countenance, without expressing the +slightest emotion, without betraying either shame or pity or remorse or +any other feeling that any other human being but herself must have shewn +in the same situation. She had no time to prepare for acting a part, to +suppress her feelings--the truth is, she has not one natural feeling in +her bosom to suppress. I turned and looked--they also turned and looked +and as if by mutual consent, we both retrod our steps and passed again, +in the same way. I went home. I was stifled. I could not stay in the +house, walked into the street and met them coming towards home. As soon +as he had left her at the door (I fancy she had prevailed with him to +accompany her, dreading some violence) I returned, went up stairs, and +requested an interview. Tell her, I said, I'm in excellent temper and +good spirits, but I must see her! She came smiling, and I said, "Come +in, my dear girl, and sit down, and tell me all about it, how it is and +who it is."--" What," she said, "do you mean Mr. C----?" "Oh," said I, +"Then it is he! Ah! you rogue, I always suspected there was something +between you, but you know you denied it lustily: why did you not tell me +all about it at the time, instead of letting me suffer as I have done? +But, however, no reproaches. I only wish it may all end happily and +honourably for you, and I am satisfied. But," I said, "you know you +used to tell me, you despised looks."--"She didn't think Mr. C---- was +so particularly handsome." "No, but he's very well to pass, and a +well-grown youth into the bargain." Pshaw! let me put an end to the +fulsome detail. I found he had lived over the way, that he had been +lured thence, no doubt, almost a year before, that they had first spoken +in the street, and that he had never once hinted at marriage, and had +gone away, because (as he said) they were too much together, and that it +was better for her to meet him occasionally out of doors. "There could +be no harm in them walking together." "No, but you may go some where +afterwards."--" One must trust to one's principle for that." Consummate +hypocrite! * * * * * * I told her Mr. M----, who had married her +sister, did not wish to leave the house. I, who would have married her, +did not wish to leave it. I told her I hoped I should not live to see +her come to shame, after all my love of her; but put her on her guard as +well as I could, and said, after the lengths she had permitted herself +with me, I could not help being alarmed at the influence of one over +her, whom she could hardly herself suppose to have a tenth part of my +esteem for her!! She made no answer to this, but thanked me coldly for +my good advice, and rose to go. I begged her to sit a few minutes, that +I might try to recollect if there was anything else I wished to say to +her, perhaps for the last time; and then, not finding anything, I bade +her good night, and asked for a farewell kiss. Do you know she refused; +so little does she understand what is due to friendship, or love, or +honour! We parted friends, however, and I felt deep grief, but no +enmity against her. I thought C---- had pressed his suit after I went, +and had prevailed. There was no harm in that--a little fickleness or +so, a little over-pretension to unalterable attachment--but that was +all. She liked him better than me--it was my hard hap, but I must bear +it. I went out to roam the desert streets, when, turning a corner, whom +should I meet but her very lover? I went up to him and asked for a few +minutes' conversation on a subject that was highly interesting to me and +I believed not indifferent to him: and in the course of four hours' +talk, it came out that for three months previous to my quitting London +for Scotland, she had been playing the same game with him as with +me--that he breakfasted first, and enjoyed an hour of her society, and +then I took my turn, so that we never jostled; and this explained why, +when he came back sometimes and passed my door, as she was sitting in my +lap, she coloured violently, thinking if her lover looked in, what a +denouement there would be. He could not help again and again +expressing his astonishment at finding that our intimacy had continued +unimpaired up to so late a period after he came, and when they were on +the most intimate footing. She used to deny positively to him that +there was anything between us, just as she used to assure me with +impenetrable effrontery that "Mr. C---- was nothing to her, but merely a +lodger." All this while she kept up the farce of her romantic +attachment to her old lover, vowed that she never could alter in that +respect, let me go to Scotland on the solemn and repeated assurance that +there was no new flame, that there was no bar between us but this +shadowy love--I leave her on this understanding, she becomes more fond +or more intimate with her new lover; he quitting the house (whether +tired out or not, I can't say)--in revenge she ceases to write to me, +keeps me in wretched suspense, treats me like something loathsome to her +when I return to enquire the cause, denies it with scorn and impudence, +destroys me and shews no pity, no desire to soothe or shorten the pangs +she has occasioned by her wantonness and hypocrisy, and wishes to linger +the affair on to the last moment, going out to keep an appointment with +another while she pretends to be obliging me in the tenderest point +(which C---- himself said was too much). . . .What do you think of all +this? Shall I tell you my opinion? But I must try to do it in another +letter. + + + + +TO THE SAME + + +(In conclusion) + + +I did not sleep a wink all that night; nor did I know till the next day +the full meaning of what had happened to me. With the morning's light, +conviction glared in upon me that I had not only lost her for ever--but +every feeling I had ever had towards her--respect, tenderness, pity--all +but my fatal passion, was gone. The whole was a mockery, a frightful +illusion. I had embraced the false Florimel instead of the true; or was +like the man in the Arabian Nights who had married a GOUL. How +different was the idea I once had of her? Was this she, + + + --"Who had been beguiled--she who was made + Within a gentle bosom to be laid-- + To bless and to be blessed--to be heart-bare + To one who found his bettered likeness there-- + To think for ever with him, like a bride-- + To haunt his eye, like taste personified-- + To double his delight, to share his sorrow, + And like a morning beam, wake to him every morrow? + + +I saw her pale, cold form glide silent by me, dead to shame as to pity. +Still I seemed to clasp this piece of witchcraft to my bosom; this +lifeless image, which was all that was left of my love, was the only +thing to which my sad heart clung. Were she dead, should I not wish to +gaze once more upon her pallid features? She is dead to me; but what +she once was to me, can never die! The agony, the conflict of hope and +fear, of adoration and jealousy is over; or it would, ere long, have +ended with my life. I am no more lifted now to Heaven, and then plunged +in the abyss; but I seem to have been thrown from the top of a +precipice, and to lie groveling, stunned, and stupefied. I am +melancholy, lonesome, and weaker than a child. The worst is, I have no +prospect of any alteration for the better: she has cut off all +possibility of a reconcilement at any future period. Were she even to +return to her former pretended fondness and endearments, I could have no +pleasure, no confidence in them. I can scarce make out the +contradiction to myself. I strive to think she always was what I now +know she is; but I have great difficulty in it, and can hardly believe +but she still IS what she so long SEEMED. Poor thing! I am afraid +she is little better off herself; nor do I see what is to become of her, +unless she throws off the mask at once, and RUNS A-MUCK at infamy. +She is exposed and laid bare to all those whose opinion she set a value +upon. Yet she held her head very high, and must feel (if she feels any +thing) proportionably mortified.--A more complete experiment on +character was never made. If I had not met her lover immediately after +I parted with her, it would have been nothing. I might have supposed +she had changed her mind in my absence, and had given him the preference +as soon as she felt it, and even shewn her delicacy in declining any +farther intimacy with me. But it comes out that she had gone on in the +most forward and familiar way with both at once--(she could not change +her mind in passing from one room to another)--told both the same +barefaced and unblushing falsehoods, like the commonest creature; +received presents from me to the very last, and wished to keep up the +game still longer, either to gratify her humour, her avarice, or her +vanity in playing with my passion, or to have me as a dernier resort, +in case of accidents. Again, it would have been nothing, if she had not +come up with her demure, well-composed, wheedling looks that morning, +and then met me in the evening in a situation, which (she believed) +might kill me on the spot, with no more feeling than a common courtesan +shews, who BILKS a customer, and passes him, leering up at her bully, +the moment after. If there had been the frailty of passion, it would +have been excusable; but it is evident she is a practised, callous jilt, +a regular lodging-house decoy, played off by her mother upon the +lodgers, one after another, applying them to her different purposes, +laughing at them in turns, and herself the probable dupe and victim of +some favourite gallant in the end. I know all this; but what do I gain +by it, unless I could find some one with her shape and air, to supply +the place of the lovely apparition? That a professed wanton should come +and sit on a man's knee, and put her arms round his neck, and caress +him, and seem fond of him, means nothing, proves nothing, no one +concludes anything from it; but that a pretty, reserved, modest, +delicate-looking girl should do this, from the first hour to the last of +your being in the house, without intending anything by it, is new, and, +I think, worth explaining. It was, I confess, out of my calculation, +and may be out of that of others. Her unmoved indifference and +self-possession all the while, shew that it is her constant practice. +Her look even, if closely examined, bears this interpretation. It is +that of studied hypocrisy or startled guilt, rather than of refined +sensibility or conscious innocence. "She defied anyone to read her +thoughts?" she once told me. "Do they then require concealing?" I +imprudently asked her. The command over herself is surprising. She +never once betrays herself by any momentary forgetfulness, by any +appearance of triumph or superiority to the person who is her dupe, by +any levity of manner in the plenitude of her success; it is one +faultless, undeviating, consistent, consummate piece of acting. Were +she a saint on earth, she could not seem more like one. Her +hypocritical high-flown pretensions, indeed, make her the worse: but +still the ascendancy of her will, her determined perseverance in what +she undertakes to do, has something admirable in it, approaching to the +heroic. She is certainly an extraordinary girl! Her retired manner, +and invariable propriety of behaviour made me think it next to +impossible she could grant the same favours indiscriminately to every +one that she did to me. Yet this now appears to be the fact. She must +have done the very same with C----, invited him into the house to carry +on a closer intrigue with her, and then commenced the double game with +both together. She always "despised looks." This was a favourite +phrase with her, and one of the hooks which she baited for me. Nothing +could win her but a man's behaviour and sentiments. Besides, she could +never like another--she was a martyr to disappointed affection--and +friendship was all she could even extend to any other man. All the +time, she was making signals, playing off her pretty person, and having +occasional interviews in the street with this very man, whom she could +only have taken so sudden and violent a liking to him from his looks, +his personal appearance, and what she probably conjectured of his +circumstances. Her sister had married a counsellor--the Miss F----'s, +who kept the house before, had done so too--and so would she. "There +was a precedent for it." Yet if she was so desperately enamoured of +this new acquaintance, if he had displaced THE LITTLE IMAGE from her +breast, if he was become her SECOND "unalterable attachment" (which I +would have given my life to have been) why continue the same +unwarrantable familiarities with me to the last, and promise that they +should be renewed on my return (if I had not unfortunately stumbled upon +the truth to her aunt) and yet keep up the same refined cant about her +old attachment all the time, as if it was that which stood in the way of +my pretensions, and not her faithlessness to it? "If one swerves from +one, one shall swerve from another"--was her excuse for not returning my +regard. Yet that which I thought a prophecy, was I suspect a history. +She had swerved twice from her avowed engagements, first to me, and then +from me to another. If she made a fool of me, what did she make of her +lover? I fancy he has put that question to himself. I said nothing to +him about the amount of the presents; which is another damning +circumstance, that might have opened my eyes long before; but they were +shut by my fond affection, which "turned all to favour and to +prettiness." She cannot be supposed to have kept up an appearance of +old regard to me, from a fear of hurting my feelings by her desertion; +for she not only shewed herself indifferent to, but evidently triumphed +in my sufferings, and heaped every kind of insult and indignity upon +them. I must have incurred her contempt and resentment by my mistaken +delicacy at different times; and her manner, when I have hinted at +becoming a reformed man in this respect, convinces me of it. "She hated +it!" She always hated whatever she liked most. She "hated Mr. C----'s +red slippers," when he first came! One more count finishes the +indictment. She not only discovered the most hardened indifference to +the feelings of others; she has not shewn the least regard to her own +character, or shame when she was detected. When found out, she seemed +to say, "Well, what if I am? I have played the game as long as I could; +and if I could keep it up no longer, it was not for want of good will!" +Her colouring once or twice is the only sign of grace she has exhibited. + Such is the creature on whom I had thrown away my heart and soul-one +who was incapable of feeling the commonest emotions of human nature, as +they regarded herself or any one else. "She had no feelings with +respect to herself," she often said. She in fact knows what she is, and +recoils from the good opinion or sympathy of others, which she feels to +be founded on a deception; so that my overweening opinion of her must +have appeared like irony, or direct insult. My seeing her in the street +has gone a good way to satisfy me. Her manner there explains her manner +in-doors to be conscious and overdone; and besides, she looks but +indifferently. She is diminutive in stature, and her measured step and +timid air do not suit these public airings. I am afraid she will soon +grow common to my imagination, as well as worthless in herself. Her +image seems fast "going into the wastes of time," like a weed that the +wave bears farther and farther from me. Alas! thou poor hapless weed, +when I entirely lose sight of thee, and for ever, no flower will ever +bloom on earth to glad my heart again! + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Liber Amoris, or, The New Pygmalion, by +William Hazlitt + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIBER AMORIS, NEW PYGMALION *** + +***** This file should be named 2049.txt or 2049.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/4/2049/ + +Produced by Christopher Hapka. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/2049.zip b/old/2049.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..31f113b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2049.zip diff --git a/old/nwpyg10.txt b/old/nwpyg10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a5f839 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/nwpyg10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3320 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Liber Amoris or The New Pygmalion +by William Hazlitt + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Liber Amoris, or, The New Pygmalion + +by William Hazlitt + +January, 2000 [Etext #2049] + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Liber Amoris by William Hazlitt +*****This file should be named nwpyg10.txt or nwpyg10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, nwpyg11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, nwpyg10a.txt + + +This etext was prepared by Christopher Hapka, Sunnyvale, California. + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any +of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text +files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users. + +At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third +of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we +manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly +from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an +assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few +more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we +don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person. + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails. . .try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> +hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org +if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if +it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . . + +We would prefer to send you this information by email. + +****** + +To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser +to view http://promo.net/pg. This site lists Etexts by +author and by title, and includes information about how +to get involved with Project Gutenberg. You could also +download our past Newsletters, or subscribe here. This +is one of our major sites, please email hart@pobox.com, +for a more complete list of our various sites. + +To go directly to the etext collections, use FTP or any +Web browser to visit a Project Gutenberg mirror (mirror +sites are available on 7 continents; mirrors are listed +at http://promo.net/pg). + +Mac users, do NOT point and click, typing works better. + +Example FTP session: + +ftp sunsite.unc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg +cd etext90 through etext99 +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99] +GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books] + +*** + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** + +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This etext was prepared by Christopher Hapka, Sunnyvale, California. + + + + + +LIBER AMORIS, OR, THE NEW PYGMALION + +by WILLIAM HAZLITT + + + + +ADVERTISEMENT + + + + + +The circumstances, an outline of which is given in these pages, happened +a very short time ago to a native of North Britain, who left his own +country early in life, in consequence of political animosities and an +ill-advised connection in marriage. It was some years after that he +formed the fatal attachment which is the subject of the following +narrative. The whole was transcribed very carefully with his own hand, +a little before be set out for the Continent in hopes of benefiting by a +change of scene, but he died soon after in the Netherlands--it is +supposed, of disappointment preying on a sickly frame and morbid state +of mind. It was his wish that what bad been his strongest feeling while +living, should be preserved in this shape when he was no more.--It has +been suggested to the friend, into whose hands the manuscript was +entrusted, that many things (particularly in the Conversations in the +First Part) either childish or redundant, might have been omitted; but a +promise was given that not a word should be altered, and the pledge was +held sacred. The names and circumstances are so far disguised, it is +presumed, as to prevent any consequences resulting from the publication, +farther than the amusement or sympathy of the reader. + + + + +PART I + + + + +THE PICTURE + + + + +H. Oh! is it you? I had something to shew you--I have got a picture +here. Do you know any one it's like? + +S. No, Sir. + +H. Don't you think it like yourself? + +S. No: it's much handsomer than I can pretend to be. + +H. That's because you don't see yourself with the same eyes that others +do. I don't think it handsomer, and the expression is hardly so fine as +yours sometimes is. + +S. Now you flatter me. Besides, the complexion is fair, and mine is +dark. + +H. Thine is pale and beautiful, my love, not dark! But if your colour +were a little heightened, and you wore the same dress, and your hair +were let down over your shoulders, as it is here, it might be taken for +a picture of you. Look here, only see how like it is. The forehead is +like, with that little obstinate protrusion in the middle; the eyebrows +are like, and the eyes are just like yours, when you look up and +say--"No--never!" + +S. What then, do I always say--"No--never!" when I look up? + +H. I don't know about that--I never heard you say so but once; but that +was once too often for my peace. It was when you told me, "you could +never be mine." Ah! if you are never to be mine, I shall not long be +myself. I cannot go on as I am. My faculties leave me: I think of +nothing, I have no feeling about any thing but thee: thy sweet image has +taken possession of me, haunts me, and will drive me to distraction. +Yet I could almost wish to go mad for thy sake: for then I might fancy +that I had thy love in return, which I cannot live without! + +S. Do not, I beg, talk in that manner, but tell me what this is a +picture of. + +H. I hardly know; but it is a very small and delicate copy (painted in +oil on a gold ground) of some fine old Italian picture, Guido's or +Raphael's, but I think Raphael's. Some say it is a Madonna; others call +it a Magdalen, and say you may distinguish the tear upon the cheek, +though no tear is there. But it seems to me more like Raphael's St. +Cecilia, "with looks commercing with the skies," than anything +else.--See, Sarah, how beautiful it is! Ah! dear girl, these are the +ideas I have cherished in my heart, and in my brain; and I never found +any thing to realise them on earth till I met with thee, my love! While +thou didst seem sensible of my kindness, I was but too happy: but now +thou hast cruelly cast me off. + +S. You have no reason to say so: you are the same to me as ever. + +H. That is, nothing. You are to me everything, and I am nothing to +you. Is it not too true? + +S. No. + +H. Then kiss me, my sweetest. Oh! could you see your face now--your +mouth full of suppressed sensibility, your downcast eyes, the soft blush +upon that cheek, you would not say the picture is not like because it is +too handsome, or because you want complexion. Thou art heavenly-fair, +my love--like her from whom the picture was taken--the idol of the +painter's heart, as thou art of mine! Shall I make a drawing of it, +altering the dress a little, to shew you how like it is? + +S. As you please.-- + + + +THE INVITATION + + + + + +H. But I am afraid I tire you with this prosing description of the +French character and abuse of the English? You know there is but one +subject on which I should ever wish to talk, if you would let me. + +S. I must say, you don't seem to have a very high opinion of this +country. + +H. Yes, it is the place that gave you birth. + +S. Do you like the French women better than the English? + +H. No: though they have finer eyes, talk better, and are better made. +But they none of them look like you. I like the Italian women I have +seen, much better than the French: they have darker eyes, darker hair, +and the accents of their native tongue are much richer and more +melodious. But I will give you a better account of them when I come +back from Italy, if you would like to hear it. + +S. I should much. It is for that I have sometimes had a wish for +travelling abroad, to understand something of the manners and characters +of different people. + +H. My sweet girl! I will give you the best account I can--unless you +would rather go and judge for yourself. + +S. I cannot. + +H. Yes, you shall go with me, and you shall go WITH HONOUR--you know +what I mean + +S. You know it is not in your power to take me so. + +H. But it soon may: and if you would consent to bear me company, I +would swear never to think of an Italian woman while I am abroad, nor of +an English one after I return home. Thou art to me more than thy whole +sex. + +S. I require no such sacrifices. + +H. Is that what you thought I meant by SACRIFICES last night? But +sacrifices are no sacrifices when they are repaid a thousand fold. + +S. I have no way of doing it. + +H. You have not the will.-- + +S. I must go now. + +H. Stay, and hear me a little. I shall soon be where I can no more +hear thy voice, far distant from her I love, to see what change of +climate and bright skies will do for a sad heart. I shall perhaps see +thee no more, but I shall still think of thee the same as ever--I shall +say to myself, "Where is she now?--what is she doing?" But I shall +hardly wish you to think of me, unless you could do so more favourably +than I am afraid you will. Ah! dearest creature, I shall be "far +distant from you," as you once said of another, but you will not think +of me as of him, "with the sincerest affection." The smallest share of +thy tenderness would make me blest; but couldst thou ever love me as +thou didst him, I should feel like a God! My face would change to a +different expression: my whole form would undergo alteration. I was +getting well, I was growing young in the sweet proofs of your +friendship: you see how I droop and wither under your displeasure! Thou +art divine, my love, and canst make me either more or less than mortal. +Indeed I am thy creature, thy slave--I only wish to live for your +sake--I would gladly die for you-- + +S. That would give me no pleasure. But indeed you greatly overrate my +power. + +H. Your power over me is that of sovereign grace and beauty. When I am +near thee, nothing can harm me. Thou art an angel of light, shadowing +me with thy softness. But when I let go thy hand, I stagger on a +precipice: out of thy sight the world is dark to me and comfortless. +There is no breathing out of this house: the air of Italy will stifle +me. Go with me and lighten it. I can know no pleasure away from thee-- + +"But I will come again, my love, An' it were ten thousand mile!" + + + +THE MESSAGE + + + + + +S. Mrs. E---- has called for the book, Sir. + +H. Oh! it is there. Let her wait a minute or two. I see this is a +busy-day with you. How beautiful your arms look in those short sleeves! + +S. I do not like to wear them. + +H. Then that is because you are merciful, and would spare frail mortals +who might die with gazing. + +S. I have no power to kill. + +H. You have, you have--Your charms are irresistible as your will is +inexorable. I wish I could see you always thus. But I would have no +one else see you so. I am jealous of all eyes but my own. I should +almost like you to wear a veil, and to be muffled up from head to foot; +but even if you were, and not a glimpse of you could be seen, it would +be to no purpose--you would only have to move, and you would be admired +as the most graceful creature in the world. You smile--Well, if you +were to be won by fine speeches-- + +S. You could supply them! + +H. It is however no laughing matter with me; thy beauty kills me daily, +and I shall think of nothing but thy charms, till the last word trembles +on my tongue, and that will be thy name, my love--the name of my +Infelice! You will live by that name, you rogue, fifty years after you +are dead. Don't you thank me for that? + +S. I have no such ambition, Sir. But Mrs. E---- is waiting. + +H. She is not in love, like me. You look so handsome to-day, I cannot +let you go. You have got a colour. + +S. But you say I look best when I am pale. + +H. When you are pale, I think so; but when you have a colour, I then +think you still more beautiful. It is you that I admire; and whatever +you are, I like best. I like you as Miss L----, I should like you still +more as Mrs. ----. I once thought you were half inclined to be a prude, +and I admired you as a "pensive nun, devout and pure." I now think you +are more than half a coquet, and I like you for your roguery. The truth +is, I am in love with you, my angel; and whatever you are, is to me the +perfection of thy sex. I care not what thou art, while thou art still +thyself. Smile but so, and turn my heart to what shape you please! + +S. I am afraid, Sir, Mrs. E---- will think you have forgotten her. + +H. I had, my charmer. But go, and make her a sweet apology, all +graceful as thou art. One kiss! Ah! ought I not to think myself the +happiest of men? + + + +THE FLAGEOLET + + + + + +H. Where have you been, my love? + +S. I have been down to see my aunt, Sir. + +H. And I hope she has been giving you good advice. + +S. I did not go to ask her opinion about any thing. + +H. And yet you seem anxious and agitated. You appear pale and +dejected, as if your refusal of me had touched your own breast with +pity. Cruel girl! you look at this moment heavenly-soft, saint-like, or +resemble some graceful marble statue, in the moon's pale ray! Sadness +only heightens the elegance of your features. How can I escape from +you, when every new occasion, even your cruelty and scorn, brings out +some new charm. Nay, your rejection of me, by the way in which you do +it, is only a new link added to my chain. Raise those downcast eyes, +bend as if an angel stooped, and kiss me. . . . Ah! enchanting little +trembler! if such is thy sweetness where thou dost not love, what must +thy love have been? I cannot think how any man, having the heart of +one, could go and leave it. + +S. No one did, that I know of. + +H. Yes, you told me yourself he left you (though he liked you, and +though he knew--Oh! gracious God! that you loved him) he left you +because "the pride of birth would not permit a union."--For myself, I +would leave a throne to ascend to the heaven of thy charms. I live but +for thee, here--I only wish to live again to pass all eternity with +thee. But even in another world, I suppose you would turn from me to +seek him out who scorned you here. + +S. If the proud scorn us here, in that place we shall all be equal. + +H. Do not look so--do not talk so--unless you would drive me mad. I +could worship you at this moment. Can I witness such perfection, and +bear to think I have lost you for ever? Oh! let me hope! You see you +can mould me as you like. You can lead me by the hand, like a little +child; and with you my way would be like a little child's:--you could +strew flowers in my path, and pour new life and hope into me. I should +then indeed hail the return of spring with joy, could I indulge the +faintest hope--would you but let me try to please you! + +S. Nothing can alter my resolution, Sir. + +H. Will you go and leave me so? + +S. It is late, and my father will be getting impatient at my stopping +so long. + +H. You know he has nothing to fear for you--it is poor I that am alone +in danger. But I wanted to ask about buying you a flageolet. Could I +see that which you have? If it is a pretty one, it would hardly be +worth while; but if it isn't, I thought of bespeaking an ivory one for +you. Can't you bring up your own to shew me? + +S. Not to-night, Sir. + +H. I wish you could. + +S. I cannot--but I will in the morning. + +H. Whatever you determine, I must submit to. Good night, and bless +thee! + +[The next morning, S. brought up the tea-kettle as usual; and looking +towards the tea-tray, she said, "Oh! I see my sister has forgot the +tea-pot." It was not there, sure enough; and tripping down stairs, she +came up in a minute, with the tea-pot in one hand, and the flageolet in +the other, balanced so sweetly and gracefully. It would have been +awkward to have brought up the flageolet in the tea-tray and she could +not have well gone down again on purpose to fetch it. Something, +therefore, was to be omitted as an excuse. Exquisite witch! But do I +love her the less dearly for it? I cannot.] + + + +THE CONFESSION + + + + +H. You say you cannot love. Is there not a prior attachment in the +case? Was there any one else that you did like? + +S. Yes, there was another. + +H. Ah! I thought as much. Is it long ago then? + +S. It is two years, Sir. + +H. And has time made no alteration? Or do you still see him sometimes? + +S. No, Sir! But he is one to whom I feel the sincerest affection, and +ever shall, though he is far distant. + +H. And did he return your regard? + +S. I had every reason to think so. + +H. What then broke off your intimacy? + +S. It was the pride of birth, Sir, that would not permit him to think +of a union. + +H. Was he a young man of rank, then? + +S. His connections were high. + +H. And did he never attempt to persuade you to any other step? + +S. No--he had too great a regard for me. + +H. Tell me, my angel, how was it? Was he so very handsome? Or was it +the fineness of his manners? + +S. It was more his manner: but I can't tell how it was. It was chiefly +my own fault. I was foolish to suppose he could ever think seriously of +me. But he used to make me read with him--and I used to be with him a +good deal, though not much neither--and I found my affections entangled +before I was aware of it. + +H. And did your mother and family know of it? + +S. No--I have never told any one but you; nor I should not have +mentioned it now, but I thought it might give you some satisfaction. + +H. Why did he go at last? + +S. We thought it better to part. + +H. And do you correspond? + +S. No, Sir. But perhaps I may see him again some time or other, though +it will be only in the way of friendship. + +H. My God! what a heart is thine, to live for years upon that bare +hope! + +S. I did not wish to live always, Sir--I wished to die for a long time +after, till I thought it not right; and since then I have endeavoured to +be as resigned as I can. + +H. And do you think the impression will never wear out? + +S. Not if I can judge from my feelings hitherto. It is now sometime +since,--and I find no difference. + +H. May God for ever bless you! How can I thank you for your +condescension in letting me know your sweet sentiments? You have +changed my esteem into adoration.--Never can I harbour a thought of ill +in thee again. + +S. Indeed, Sir, I wish for your good opinion and your friendship. + +H. And can you return them? + +S. Yes. + +H. And nothing more? + +S. No, Sir. + +H. You are an angel, and I will spend my life, if you will let me, in +paying you the homage that my heart feels towards you. + + + +THE QUARREL + + + + + +H. You are angry with me? + +S. Have I not reason? + +H. I hope you have; for I would give the world to believe my suspicions +unjust. But, oh! my God! after what I have thought of you and felt +towards you, as little less than an angel, to have but a doubt cross my +mind for an instant that you were what I dare not name--a common +lodging-house decoy, a kissing convenience, that your lips were as +common as the stairs-- + +S. Let me go, Sir! + +H. Nay--prove to me that you are not so, and I will fall down and +worship you. You were the only creature that ever seemed to love me; +and to have my hopes, and all my fondness for you, thus turned to a +mockery--it is too much! Tell me why you have deceived me, and singled +me out as your victim? + +S. I never have, Sir. I always said I could not love. + +H. There is a difference between love and making me a laughing-stock. +Yet what else could be the meaning of your little sister's running out +to you, and saying "He thought I did not see him!" when I had followed +you into the other room? Is it a joke upon me that I make free with +you? Or is not the joke against HER sister, unless you make my +courtship of you a jest to the whole house? Indeed I do not well see +how you can come and stay with me as you do, by the hour together, and +day after day, as openly as you do, unless you give it some such turn +with your family. Or do you deceive them as well as me? + +S. I deceive no one, Sir. But my sister Betsey was always watching and +listening when Mr. M---- was courting my eldest sister, till he was +obliged to complain of it. + +H. That I can understand, but not the other. You may remember, when +your servant Maria looked in and found you sitting in my lap one day, +and I was afraid she might tell your mother, you said "You did not care, +for you had no secrets from your mother." This seemed to me odd at the +time, but I thought no more of it, till other things brought it to my +mind. Am I to suppose, then, that you are acting a part, a vile part, +all this time, and that you come up here, and stay as long as I like, +that you sit on my knee and put your arms round my neck, and feed me +with kisses, and let me take other liberties with you, and that for a +year together; and that you do all this not out of love, or liking, or +regard, but go through your regular task, like some young witch, without +one natural feeling, to shew your cleverness, and get a few presents out +of me, and go down into the kitchen to make a fine laugh of it? There +is something monstrous in it, that I cannot believe of you. + +S. Sir, you have no right to harass my feelings in the manner you do. +I have never made a jest of you to anyone, but always felt and expressed +the greatest esteem for you. You have no ground for complaint in my +conduct; and I cannot help what Betsey or others do. I have always been +consistent from the first. I told you my regard could amount to no more +than friendship. + +H. Nay, Sarah, it was more than half a year before I knew that there +was an insurmountable obstacle in the way. You say your regard is +merely friendship, and that you are sorry I have ever felt anything more +for you. Yet the first time I ever asked you, you let me kiss you; the +first time I ever saw you, as you went out of the room, you turned full +round at the door, with that inimitable grace with which you do +everything, and fixed your eyes full upon me, as much as to say, "Is he +caught?"--that very week you sat upon my knee, twined your arms round +me, caressed me with every mark of tenderness consistent with modesty; +and I have not got much farther since. Now if you did all this with me, +a perfect stranger to you, and without any particular liking to me, must +I not conclude you do so as a matter of course with everyone?--Or, if +you do not do so with others, it was because you took a liking to me for +some reason or other. + +S. It was gratitude, Sir, for different obligations. + +H. If you mean by obligations the presents I made you, I had given you +none the first day I came. You do not consider yourself OBLIGED to +everyone who asks you for a kiss? + +S. No, Sir. + +H. I should not have thought anything of it in anyone but you. But you +seemed so reserved and modest, so soft, so timid, you spoke so low, you +looked so innocent--I thought it impossible you could deceive me. +Whatever favors you granted must proceed from pure regard. No betrothed +virgin ever gave the object of her choice kisses, caresses more modest +or more bewitching than those you have given me a thousand and a +thousand times. Could I have thought I should ever live to believe them +an inhuman mockery of one who had the sincerest regard for you? Do you +think they will not now turn to rank poison in my veins, and kill me, +soul and body? You say it is friendship--but if this is friendship, +I'll forswear love. Ah! Sarah! it must be something more or less than +friendship. If your caresses are sincere, they shew fondness--if they +are not, I must be more than indifferent to you. Indeed you once let +some words drop, as if I were out of the question in such matters, and +you could trifle with me with impunity. Yet you complain at other times +that no one ever took such liberties with you as I have done. I +remember once in particular your saying, as you went out at the door in +anger--"I had an attachment before, but that person never attempted +anything of the kind." Good God! How did I dwell on that word +BEFORE, thinking it implied an attachment to me also; but you have +since disclaimed any such meaning. You say you have never professed +more than esteem. Yet once, when you were sitting in your old place, on +my knee, embracing and fondly embraced, and I asked you if you could not +love, you made answer, "I could easily say so, whether I did or not--YOU +SHOULD JUDGE BY MY ACTIONS!" And another time, when you were in the +same posture, and I reproached you with indifference, you replied in +these words, "Do I SEEM INDIFFERENT?" Was I to blame after this to +indulge my passion for the loveliest of her sex? Or what can I think? + +S. I am no prude, Sir. + +H. Yet you might be taken for one. So your mother said, "It was hard +if you might not indulge in a little levity." She has strange notions +of levity. But levity, my dear, is quite out of character in you. Your +ordinary walk is as if you were performing some religious ceremony: you +come up to my table of a morning, when you merely bring in the +tea-things, as if you were advancing to the altar. You move in +minuet-time: you measure every step, as if you were afraid of offending +in the smallest things. I never hear your approach on the stairs, but +by a sort of hushed silence. When you enter the room, the Graces wait +on you, and Love waves round your person in gentle undulations, +breathing balm into the soul! By Heaven, you are an angel! You look +like one at this instant! Do I not adore you--and have I merited this +return? + +S. I have repeatedly answered that question. You sit and fancy things +out of your own head, and then lay them to my charge. There is not a +word of truth in your suspicions. + +H. Did I not overhear the conversation down-stairs last night, to which +you were a party? Shall I repeat it? + +S. I had rather not hear it! + +H. Or what am I to think of this story of the footman? + +S. It is false, Sir, I never did anything of the sort. + +H. Nay, when I told your mother I wished she wouldn't * * * * * * * * * +(as I heard she did) she said "Oh, there's nothing in that, for Sarah +very often * * * * * *," and your doing so before company, is only a +trifling addition to the sport. + +S. I'll call my mother, Sir, and she shall contradict you. + +H. Then she'll contradict herself. But did not you boast you were +"very persevering in your resistance to gay young men," and had been +"several times obliged to ring the bell?" Did you always ring it? Or +did you get into these dilemmas that made it necessary, merely by the +demureness of your looks and ways? Or had nothing else passed? Or have +you two characters, one that you palm off upon me, and another, your +natural one, that you resume when you get out of the room, like an +actress who throws aside her artificial part behind the scenes? Did you +not, when I was courting you on the staircase the first night Mr. C---- +came, beg me to desist, for if the new lodger heard us, he'd take you +for a light character? Was that all? Were you only afraid of being +TAKEN for a light character? Oh! Sarah! + +S. I'll stay and hear this no longer. + +H. Yes, one word more. Did you not love another? + +S. Yes, and ever shall most sincerely. + +H. Then, THAT is my only hope. If you could feel this sentiment for +him, you cannot be what you seem to me of late. But there is another +thing I had to say--be what you will, I love you to distraction! You +are the only woman that ever made me think she loved me, and that +feeling was so new to me, and so delicious, that it "will never from my +heart." Thou wert to me a little tender flower, blooming in the +wilderness of my life; and though thou should'st turn out a weed, I'll +not fling thee from me, while I can help it. Wert thou all that I dread +to think--wert thou a wretched wanderer in the street, covered with +rags, disease, and infamy, I'd clasp thee to my bosom, and live and die +with thee, my love. Kiss me, thou little sorceress! + +S. NEVER. + +H. Then go: but remember I cannot live without you--nor I will not. + + + +THE RECONCILIATION + + + + + +H. I have then lost your friendship? + +S. Nothing tends more to alienate friendship than insult. + +H. The words I uttered hurt me more than they did you. + +S. It was not words merely, but actions as well. + +H. Nothing I can say or do can ever alter my fondness for you--Ah, +Sarah! I am unworthy of your love: I hardly dare ask for your pity; but +oh! save me--save me from your scorn: I cannot bear it--it withers me +like lightning. + +S. I bear no malice, Sir; but my brother, who would scorn to tell a lie +for his sister, can bear witness for me that there was no truth in what +you were told. + +H. I believe it; or there is no truth in woman. It is enough for me to +know that you do not return my regard; it would be too much for me to +think that you did not deserve it. But cannot you forgive the agony of +the moment? + +S. I can forgive; but it is not easy to forget some things! + +H. Nay, my sweet Sarah (frown if you will, I can bear your resentment +for my ill behaviour, it is only your scorn and indifference that harrow +up my soul)--but I was going to ask, if you had been engaged to be +married to any one, and the day was fixed, and he had heard what I did, +whether he could have felt any true regard for the character of his +bride, his wife, if he had not been hurt and alarmed as I was? + +S. I believe, actual contracts of marriage have sometimes been broken +off by unjust suspicions. + +H. Or had it been your old friend, what do you think he would have said +in my case? + +S. He would never have listened to anything of the sort. + +H. He had greater reasons for confidence than I have. But it is your +repeated cruel rejection of me that drives me almost to madness. Tell +me, love, is there not, besides your attachment to him, a repugnance to +me? + +S. No, none whatever. + +H. I fear there is an original dislike, which no efforts of mine can +overcome. + +S. It is not you--it is my feelings with respect to another, which are +unalterable. + +H. And yet you have no hope of ever being his? And yet you accuse me +of being romantic in my sentiments. + +S. I have indeed long ceased to hope; but yet I sometimes hope against +hope. + +H. My love! were it in my power, thy hopes should be fulfilled +to-morrow. Next to my own, there is nothing that could give me so much +satisfaction as to see thine realized! Do I not love thee, when I can +feel such an interest in thy love for another? It was that which first +wedded my very soul to you. I would give worlds for a share in a heart +so rich in pure affection! + +S. And yet I did not tell you of the circumstance to raise myself in +your opinion. + +H. You are a sublime little thing! And yet, as you have no prospects +there, I cannot help thinking, the best thing would be to do as I have +said. + +S. I would never marry a man I did not love beyond all the world. + +H. I should be satisfied with less than that--with the love, or regard, +or whatever you call it, you have shown me before marriage, if that has +only been sincere. You would hardly like me less afterwards. + +S. Endearments would, I should think, increase regard, where there was +love beforehand; but that is not exactly my case. + +H. But I think you would be happier than you are at present. You take +pleasure in my conversation, and you say you have an esteem for me; and +it is upon this, after the honeymoon, that marriage chiefly turns. + +S. Do you think there is no pleasure in a single life? + +H. Do you mean on account of its liberty? + +S. No, but I feel that forced duty is no duty. I have high ideas of +the married state! + +H. Higher than of the maiden state? + +S. I understand you, Sir. + +H. I meant nothing; but you have sometimes spoken of any serious +attachment as a tie upon you. It is not that you prefer flirting with +"gay young men" to becoming a mere dull domestic wife? + +S. You have no right to throw out such insinuations: for though I am +but a tradesman's daughter, I have as nice a sense of honour as anyone +can have. + +H. Talk of a tradesman's daughter! you would ennoble any family, thou +glorious girl, by true nobility of mind. + +S. Oh! Sir, you flatter me. I know my own inferiority to most. + +H. To none; there is no one above thee, man nor woman either. You are +above your situation, which is not fit for you. + +S. I am contented with my lot, and do my duty as cheerfully as I can. + +H. Have you not told me your spirits grow worse every year? + +S. Not on that account: but some disappointments are hard to bear up +against. + +H. If you talk about that, you'll unman me. But tell me, my love,--I +have thought of it as something that might account for some +circumstances; that is, as a mere possibility. But tell me, there was +not a likeness between me and your old lover that struck you at first +sight? Was there? + +S. No, Sir, none. + +H. Well, I didn't think it likely there should. + +S. But there was a likeness. + +H. To whom? + +S. To that little image! (looking intently on a small bronze figure of +Buonaparte on the mantelpiece). + +H. What, do you mean to Buonaparte? + +S. Yes, all but the nose was just like. + +H. And was his figure the same? + +S. He was taller! + +[I got up and gave her the image, and told her it was hers by every +right that was sacred. She refused at first to take so valuable a +curiosity, and said she would keep it for me. But I pressed it eagerly, +and she look it. She immediately came and sat down, and put her arm +round my neck, and kissed me, and I said, "Is it not plain we are the +best friends in the world, since we are always so glad to make it up?" +And then I added "How odd it was that the God of my idolatry should turn +out to be like her Idol, and said it was no wonder that the same face +which awed the world should conquer the sweetest creature in it!" How I +loved her at that moment! Is it possible that the wretch who writes +this could ever have been so blest! Heavenly delicious creature! Can I +live without her? Oh! no--never--never. + +"What is this world? What asken men to have, Now with his love, now in +the cold grave, Alone, withouten any compagnie!" + +Let me but see her again! She cannot hate the man who loves her as I +do.] + + + +LETTERS TO THE SAME + + + + + +Feb., I822. + + +--You will scold me for this, and ask me if this is keeping my promise +to mind my work. One half of it was to think of Sarah: and besides, I +do not neglect my work either, I assure you. I regularly do ten pages a +day, which mounts up to thirty guineas' worth a week, so that you see I +should grow rich at this rate, if I could keep on so; AND I COULD KEEP +ON SO, if I had you with me to encourage me with your sweet smiles, and +share my lot. The Berwick smacks sail twice a week, and the wind sits +fair. When I think of the thousand endearing caresses that have passed +between us, I do not wonder at the strong attachment that draws me to +you; but I am sorry for my own want of power to please. I hear the wind +sigh through the lattice, and keep repeating over and over to myself two +lines of Lord Byron's Tragedy-- + +"So shalt thou find me ever at thy side Here and hereafter, if the last +may be."-- + +applying them to thee, my love, and thinking whether I shall ever see +thee again. Perhaps not--for some years at least--till both thou and I +are old--and then, when all else have forsaken thee, I will creep to +thee, and die in thine arms. You once made me believe I was not hated +by her I loved; and for that sensation, so delicious was it, though but +a mockery and a dream, I owe you more than I can ever pay. I thought to +have dried up my tears for ever, the day I left you; but as I write +this, they stream again. If they did not, I think my heart would burst. + I walk out here of an afternoon, and hear the notes of the thrush, that +come up from a sheltered valley below, welcome in the spring; but they +do not melt my heart as they used: it is grown cold and dead. As you +say, it will one day be colder.--Forgive what I have written above; I +did not intend it: but you were once my little all, and I cannot bear +the thought of having lost you for ever, I fear through my own fault. +Has any one called? Do not send any letters that come. I should like +you and your mother (if agreeable) to go and see Mr. Kean in Othello, +and Miss Stephens in Love in a Village. If you will, I will write to +Mr. T----, to send you tickets. Has Mr. P---- called? I think I must +send to him for the picture to kiss and talk to. Kiss me, my best +beloved. Ah! if you can never be mine, still let me be your proud and +happy slave. + + +H. + + + +TO THE SAME + + + + + +March, I822. + + +--You will be glad to learn I have done my work--a volume in less than a +month. This is one reason why I am better than when I came, and another +is, I have had two letters from Sarah. I am pleased I have got through +this job, as I was afraid I might lose reputation by it (which I can +little afford to lose)--and besides, I am more anxious to do well now, +as I wish you to hear me well spoken of. I walk out of an afternoon, +and hear the birds sing as I told you, and think, if I had you hanging +on my arm, and that for life, how happy I should be--happier than I ever +hoped to be, or had any conception of till I knew you. "But that can +never be"--I hear you answer in a soft, low murmur. Well, let me dream +of it sometimes--I am not happy too often, except when that favourite +note, the harbinger of spring, recalling the hopes of my youth, whispers +thy name and peace together in my ear. I was reading something about +Mr. Macready to-day, and this put me in mind of that delicious night, +when I went with your mother and you to see Romeo and Juliet. Can I +forget it for a moment--your sweet modest looks, your infinite propriety +of behaviour, all your sweet winning ways--your hesitating about taking +my arm as we came out till your mother did--your laughing about nearly +losing your cloak--your stepping into the coach without my being able to +make the slightest discovery--and oh! my sitting down beside you there, +you whom I had loved so long, so well, and your assuring me I had not +lessened your pleasure at the play by being with you, and giving me your +dear hand to press in mine! I thought I was in heaven--that slender +exquisitely-turned form contained my all of heaven upon earth; and as I +folded you--yes, you, my own best Sarah, to my bosom, there was, as you +say, A TIE BETWEEN US--you did seem to me, for those few short +moments, to be mine in all truth and honour and sacredness--Oh! that we +could be always so--Do not mock me, for I am a very child in love. I +ought to beg pardon for behaving so ill afterwards, but I hope THE +LITTLE IMAGE made it up between us, &c. + + +[To this letter I have received no answer, not a line. The rolling +years of eternity will never fill up that blank. Where shall I be? +What am I? Or where have I been?] + + + +WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF ENDYMION + + + + + +I want a hand to guide me, an eye to cheer me, a bosom to repose on; all +which I shall never have, but shall stagger into my grave, old before my +time, unloved and unlovely, unless S. L. keeps her faith with me. + + +* * * * * * * * * * * + + +--But by her dove's eyes and serpent-shape, I think she does not hate +me; by her smooth forehead and her crested hair, I own I love her; by +her soft looks and queen-like grace (which men might fall down and +worship) I swear to live and die for her! + + + +A PROPOSAL OF LOVE + + + + + +(Given to her in our early acquaintance) + +"Oh! if I thought it could be in a woman (As, if it can, I will presume +in you) To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love, To keep her +constancy in plight and youth, Outliving beauties outward with a mind +That doth renew swifter than blood decays: Or that persuasion could but +thus convince me, That my integrity and truth to you Might be confronted +with the match and weight Of such a winnowed purity in love-- How were I +then uplifted! But, alas, I am as true as truth's simplicity, And +simpler than the infancy of truth." + + +TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. + + + +PART II + + + + +LETTERS TO C. P----, ESQ. + + + + + +Bees-Inn. + + +My good friend, Here I am in Scotland (and shall have been here three +weeks, next Monday) as I may say, ON MY PROBATION. This is a lone +inn, but on a great scale, thirty miles from Edinburgh. It is situated +on a rising ground (a mark for all the winds, which blow here +incessantly)--there is a woody hill opposite, with a winding valley +below, and the London road stretches out on either side. You may guess +which way I oftenest walk. I have written two letters to S. L. and got +one cold, prudish answer, beginning SIR, and ending FROM YOURS +TRULY, with BEST RESPECTS FROM HERSELF AND RELATIONS. I was going to +give in, but have returned an answer, which I think is a touch-stone. I +send it you on the other side to keep as a curiosity, in case she kills +me by her exquisite rejoinder. I am convinced from the profound +contemplations I have had on the subject here and coming along, that I +am on a wrong scent. We had a famous parting-scene, a complete quarrel +and then a reconciliation, in which she did beguile me of my tears, but +the deuce a one did she shed. What do you think? She cajoled me out of +my little Buonaparte as cleverly as possible, in manner and form +following. She was shy the Saturday and Sunday (the day of my +departure) so I got in dudgeon, and began to rip up grievances. I asked +her how she came to admit me to such extreme familiarities, the first +week I entered the house. "If she had no particular regard for me, she +must do so (or more) with everyone: if she had a liking to me from the +first, why refuse me with scorn and wilfulness?" If you had seen how +she flounced, and looked, and went to the door, saying "She was obliged +to me for letting her know the opinion I had always entertained of +her"--then I said, "Sarah!" and she came back and took my hand, and +fixed her eyes on the mantelpiece--(she must have been invoking her idol +then--if I thought so, I could devour her, the darling--but I doubt +her)--So I said "There is one thing that has occurred to me sometimes as +possible, to account for your conduct to me at first--there wasn't a +likeness, was there, to your old friend?" She answered "No, none--but +there was a likeness!" I asked, to what? She said "to that little +image!" I said, "Do you mean Buonaparte?"--She said "Yes, all but the +nose."--"And the figure?"--"He was taller."--I could not stand this. So +I got up and took it, and gave it her, and after some reluctance, she +consented to "keep it for me." What will you bet me that it wasn't all +a trick? I'll tell you why I suspect it, besides being fairly out of my +wits about her. I had told her mother half an hour before, that I +should take this image and leave it at Mrs. B.'s, for that I didn't wish +to leave anything behind me that must bring me back again. Then up she +comes and starts a likeness to her lover: she knew I should give it her +on the spot--"No, she would keep it for me!" So I must come back for +it. Whether art or nature, it is sublime. I told her I should write +and tell you so, and that I parted from her, confiding, adoring!--She is +beyond me, that's certain. Do go and see her, and desire her not to +give my present address to a single soul, and learn if the lodging is +let, and to whom. My letter to her is as follows. If she shews the +least remorse at it, I'll be hanged, though it might move a stone, I +modestly think. (See before, Part I. first letter.) + +N.B.--I have begun a book of our conversations (I mean mine and the +statue's) which I call LIBER AMORIS. I was detained at Stamford and +found myself dull, and could hit upon no other way of employing my time +so agreeably. + + + +LETTER II + + + + + +Dear P----, Here, without loss of time, in order that I may have your +opinion upon it, is little Yes and No's answer to my last. + + +"Sir, I should not have disregarded your injunction not to send you any +more letters that might come to you, had I not promised the Gentleman +who left the enclosed to forward it the earliest opportunity, as he said +it was of consequence. Mr. P---- called the day after you left town. +My mother and myself are much obliged by your kind offer of tickets to +the play, but must decline accepting it. My family send their best +respects, in which they are joined by + +Yours, truly, + +S. L. + + +The deuce a bit more is there of it. If you can make anything out of it +(or any body else) I'll be hanged. You are to understand, this comes in +a frank, the second I have received from her, with a name I can't make +out, and she won't tell me, though I asked her, where she got franks, as +also whether the lodgings were let, to neither of which a word of +answer. * * * * is the name on the frank: see if you can decypher it by +a Red-book. I suspect her grievously of being an arrant jilt, to say no +more--yet I love her dearly. Do you know I'm going to write to that +sweet rogue presently, having a whole evening to myself in advance of my +work? Now mark, before you set about your exposition of the new +Apocalypse of the new Calypso, the only thing to be endured in the above +letter is the date. It was written the very day after she received +mine. By this she seems willing to lose no time in receiving these +letters "of such sweet breath composed." If I thought so--but I wait +for your reply. After all, what is there in her but a pretty figure, +and that you can't get a word out of her? Hers is the Fabian method of +making love and conquests. What do you suppose she said the night +before I left her? + +"H. Could you not come and live with me as a friend? + +"S. I don't know: and yet it would be of no use if I did, you would +always be hankering after what could never be!" + +I asked her if she would do so at once--the very next day? And what do +you guess was her answer--"Do you think it would be prudent?" As I +didn't proceed to extremities on the spot, she began to look grave, and +declare off. "Would she live with me in her own house--to be with me +all day as dear friends, if nothing more, to sit and read and talk with +me?"--"She would make no promises, but I should find her the +same."--"Would she go to the play with me sometimes, and let it be +understood that I was paying my addresses to her?"--"She could not, as a +habit--her father was rather strict, and would object."--Now what am I +to think of all this? Am I mad or a fool? Answer me to that, Master +Brook! You are a philosopher. + + + +LETTER III + + + + + +Dear Friend, I ought to have written to you before; but since I received +your letter, I have been in a sort of purgatory, and what is worse, I +see no prospect of getting out of it. I would put an end to my torments +at once; but I am as great a coward as I have been a dupe. Do you know +I have not had a word of answer from her since! What can be the reason? + Is she offended at my letting you know she wrote to me, or is it some +new affair? I wrote to her in the tenderest, most respectful manner, +poured my soul at her feet, and this is the return she makes me! Can +you account for it, except on the admission of my worst doubts +concerning her? Oh God! can I bear after all to think of her so, or +that I am scorned and made a sport of by the creature to whom I had +given my whole heart? Thus has it been with me all my life; and so will +it be to the end of it!--If you should learn anything, good or bad, tell +me, I conjure you: I can bear anything but this cruel suspense. If I +knew she was a mere abandoned creature, I should try to forget her; but +till I do know this, nothing can tear me from her, I have drank in +poison from her lips too long--alas! mine do not poison again. I sit +and indulge my grief by the hour together; my weakness grows upon me; +and I have no hope left, unless I could lose my senses quite. Do you +know I think I should like this? To forget, ah! to forget--there would +be something in that--to change to an idiot for some few years, and then +to wake up a poor wretched old man, to recollect my misery as past, and +die! Yet, oh! with her, only a little while ago, I had different hopes, +forfeited for nothing that I know of! * * * * * * If you can give me any +consolation on the subject of my tormentor, pray do. The pain I suffer +wears me out daily. I write this on the supposition that Mrs. ----- may +still come here, and that I may be detained some weeks longer. Direct +to me at the Post-office; and if I return to town directly as I fear, I +will leave word for them to forward the letter to me in London--not at +my old lodgings. I will not go back there: yet how can I breathe away +from her? Her hatred of me must be great, since my love of her could +not overcome it! I have finished the book of my conversations with her, +which I told you of: if I am not mistaken, you will think it very nice +reading. + +Yours ever. + +Have you read Sardanapalus? How like the little Greek slave, Myrrha, is +to HER! + + + +LETTER IV + + + + + +(Written in the Winter) + +My good Friend, I received your letter this morning, and I kiss the rod +not only with submission, but gratitude. Your reproofs of me and your +defences of her are the only things that save my soul from perdition. +She is my heart's idol; and believe me those words of yours applied to +the dear saint--"To lip a chaste one and suppose her wanton"--were balm +and rapture to me. I have LIPPED HER, God knows how often, and oh! is +it even possible that she is chaste, and that she has bestowed her loved +"endearments" on me (her own sweet word) out of true regard? That +thought, out of the lowest depths of despair, would at any time make me +strike my forehead against the stars. Could I but think the love +"honest," I am proof against all hazards. She by her silence makes my +dark hour; and you by your encouragements dissipate it for twenty-four +hours. Another thing has brought me to life. Mrs. ----- is actually on +her way here about the divorce. Should this unpleasant business (which +has been so long talked of) succeed, and I should become free, do you +think S. L. will agree to change her name to -----? If she WILL, she +SHALL; and to call her so to you, or to hear her called so by others, +would be music to my ears, such as they never drank in. Do you think if +she knew how I love her, my depressions and my altitudes, my wanderings +and my constancy, it would not move her? She knows it all; and if she +is not an INCORRIGIBLE, she loves me, or regards me with a feeling +next to love. I don't believe that any woman was ever courted more +passionately than she has been by me. As Rousseau said of Madame +d'Houptot (forgive the allusion) my heart has found a tongue in speaking +to her, and I have talked to her the divine language of love. Yet she +says, she is insensible to it. Am I to believe her or you? You--for I +wish it and wish it to madness, now that I am like to be free, and to +have it in my power to say to her without a possibility of suspicion, +"Sarah, will you be mine?" When I sometimes think of the time I first +saw the sweet apparition, August 16, 1820, and that possibly she may be +my bride before that day two years, it makes me dizzy with incredible +joy and love of her. Write soon. + + + +LETTER V + + + + + +My dear Friend, I read your answer this morning with gratitude. I have +felt somewhat easier since. It shewed your interest in my vexations, +and also that you know nothing worse than I do. I cannot describe the +weakness of mind to which she has reduced me. This state of suspense is +like hanging in the air by a single thread that exhausts all your +strength to keep hold of it; and yet if that fails you, you have nothing +in the world else left to trust to. I am come back to Edinburgh about +this cursed business, and Mrs. ----- is coming from Montrose next week. +How it will end, I can't say; and don't care, except as it regards the +other affair. I should, I confess, like to have it in my power to make +her the offer direct and unequivocal, to see how she'd receive it. It +would be worth something at any rate to see her superfine airs upon the +occasion; and if she should take it into her head to turn round her +sweet neck, drop her eye-lids, and say--"Yes, I will be yours!"--why +then, "treason domestic, foreign levy, nothing could touch me further." +By Heaven! I doat on her. The truth is, I never had any pleasure, like +love, with any one but her. Then how can I bear to part with her? Do +you know I like to think of her best in her morning-gown and mob-cap--it +is so she has oftenest come into my room and enchanted me! She was once +ill, pale, and had lost all her freshness. I only adored her the more +for it, and fell in love with the decay of her beauty. I could devour +the little witch. If she had a plague-spot on her, I could touch the +infection: if she was in a burning fever, I could kiss her, and drink +death as I have drank life from her lips. When I press her hand, I +enjoy perfect happiness and contentment of soul. It is not what she +says or what she does--it is herself that I love. To be with her is to +be at peace. I have no other wish or desire. The air about her is +serene, blissful; and he who breathes it is like one of the Gods! So +that I can but have her with me always, I care for nothing more. I +never could tire of her sweetness; I feel that I could grow to her, body +and soul? My heart, my heart is hers. + + + +LETTER VI + + + + + +(Written in May) + +Dear P----, What have I suffered since I parted with you! A raging fire +is in my heart and in my brain, that never quits me. The steam-boat +(which I foolishly ventured on board) seems a prison-house, a sort of +spectre-ship, moving on through an infernal lake, without wind or tide, +by some necromantic power--the splashing of the waves, the noise of the +engine gives me no rest, night or day--no tree, no natural object varies +the scene--but the abyss is before me, and all my peace lies weltering +in it! I feel the eternity of punishment in this life; for I see no end +of my woes. The people about me are ill, uncomfortable, wretched +enough, many of them--but to-morrow or next day, they reach the place of +their destination, and all will be new and delightful. To me it will be +the same. I can neither escape from her, nor from myself. All is +endurable where there is a limit: but I have nothing but the blackness +and the fiendishness of scorn around me--mocked by her (the false one) +in whom I placed my hope, and who hardens herself against me!--I believe +you thought me quite gay, vain, insolent, half mad, the night I left the +house--no tongue can tell the heaviness of heart I felt at that moment. +No footsteps ever fell more slow, more sad than mine; for every step +bore me farther from her, with whom my soul and every thought lingered. +I had parted with her in anger, and each had spoken words of high +disdain, not soon to be forgiven. Should I ever behold her again? +Where go to live and die far from her? In her sight there was Elysium; +her smile was heaven; her voice was enchantment; the air of love waved +round her, breathing balm into my heart: for a little while I had sat +with the Gods at their golden tables, I had tasted of all earth's bliss, +"both living and loving!" But now Paradise barred its doors against me; +I was driven from her presence, where rosy blushes and delicious sighs +and all soft wishes dwelt, the outcast of nature and the scoff of love! +I thought of the time when I was a little happy careless child, of my +father's house, of my early lessons, of my brother's picture of me when +a boy, of all that had since happened to me, and of the waste of years +to come--I stopped, faultered, and was going to turn back once more to +make a longer truce with wretchedness and patch up a hollow league with +love, when the recollection of her words--"I always told you I had no +affection for you"--steeled my resolution, and I determined to proceed. +You see by this she always hated me, and only played with my credulity +till she could find some one to supply the place of her unalterable +attachment to THE LITTLE IMAGE. * * * * * I am a little, a very little +better to-day. Would it were quietly over; and that this misshapen form +(made to be mocked) were hid out of the sight of cold, sullen eyes! The +people about me even take notice of my dumb despair, and pity me. What +is to be done? I cannot forget HER; and I can find no other like what +SHE SEEMED. I should wish you to call, if you can make an excuse, and +see whether or no she is quite marble--whether I may go back again at my +return, and whether she will see me and talk to me sometimes as an old +friend. Suppose you were to call on M---- from me, and ask him what his +impression is that I ought to do. But do as you think best. Pardon, +pardon. + +P.S.--I send this from Scarborough, where the vessel stops for a few +minutes. I scarcely know what I should have done, but for this relief +to my feelings. + + + +LETTER VII + + + + + +My dear Friend, The important step is taken, and I am virtually a free +man. * * * What had I better do in these circumstances? I dare not +write to her, I dare not write to her father, or else I would. She has +shot me through with poisoned arrows, and I think another "winged wound +" would finish me. It is a pleasant sort of balm (as you express it) +she has left in my heart! One thing I agree with you in, it will remain +there for ever; but yet not very long. It festers, and consumes me. If +it were not for my little boy, whose face I see struck blank at the +news, looking through the world for pity and meeting with contempt +instead, I should soon, I fear, settle the question by my death. That +recollection is the only thought that brings my wandering reason to an +anchor; that stirs the smallest interest in me; or gives me fortitude to +bear up against what I am doomed to feel for the ungrateful. Otherwise, +I am dead to every thing but the sense of what I have lost. She was my +life--it is gone from me, and I am grown spectral! If I find myself in +a place I am acquainted with, it reminds me of her, of the way in which +I thought of her, + + +--"and carved on every tree The soft, the fair, the inexpressive she!" + + +If it is a place that is new to me, it is desolate, barren of all +interest; for nothing touches me but what has a reference to her. If +the clock strikes, the sound jars me; a million of hours will not bring +back peace to my breast. The light startles me; the darkness terrifies +me. I seem falling into a pit, without a hand to help me. She has +deceived me, and the earth fails from under my feet; no object in nature +is substantial, real, but false and hollow, like her faith on which I +built my trust. She came (I knew not how) and sat by my side and was +folded in my arms, a vision of love and joy, as if she had dropped from +the Heavens to bless me by some especial dispensation of a favouring +Providence, and make me amends for all; and now without any fault of +mine but too much fondness, she has vanished from me, and I am left to +perish. My heart is torn out of me, with every feeling for which I +wished to live. The whole is like a dream, an effect of enchantment; it +torments me, and it drives me mad. I lie down with it; I rise up with +it; and see no chance of repose. I grasp at a shadow, I try to undo the +past, and weep with rage and pity over my own weakness and misery. I +spared her again and again (fool that I was) thinking what she allowed +from me was love, friendship, sweetness, not wantonness. How could I +doubt it, looking in her face, and hearing her words, like sighs +breathed from the gentlest of all bosoms? I had hopes, I had prospects +to come, the flattery of something like fame, a pleasure in writing, +health even would have come back with her smile--she has blighted all, +turned all to poison and childish tears. Yet the barbed arrow is in my +heart--I can neither endure it, nor draw it out; for with it flows my +life's-blood. I had conversed too long with abstracted truth to trust +myself with the immortal thoughts of love. THAT S. L. MIGHT HAVE BEEN +MINE, AND NOW NEVER CAN--these are the two sole propositions that for +ever stare me in the face, and look ghastly in at my poor brain. I am +in some sense proud that I can feel this dreadful passion--it gives me a +kind of rank in the kingdom of love--but I could have wished it had been +for an object that at least could have understood its value and pitied +its excess. You say her not coming to the door when you went is a +proof--yes, that her complement is at present full! That is the reason +she doesn't want me there, lest I should discover the new affair--wretch +that I am! Another has possession of her, oh Hell! I'm satisfied of it +from her manner, which had a wanton insolence in it. Well might I run +wild when I received no letters from her. I foresaw, I felt my fate. +The gates of Paradise were once open to me too, and I blushed to enter +but with the golden keys of love! I would die; but her lover--my love +of her--ought not to die. When I am dead, who will love her as I have +done? If she should be in misfortune, who will comfort her? when she +is old, who will look in her face, and bless her? Would there be any +harm in calling upon M----, to know confidentially if he thinks it worth +my while to make her an offer the instant it is in my power? Let me +have an answer, and save me, if possible, FOR her and FROM myself. + + + +LETTER VIII + + + + + +My dear Friend, Your letter raised me for a moment from the depths of +despair; but not hearing from you yesterday or to-day (as I hoped) I +have had a relapse. You say I want to get rid of her. I hope you are +more right in your conjectures about her than in this about me. Oh no! +believe it, I love her as I do my own soul; my very heart is wedded to +her (be she what she may) and I would not hesitate a moment between her +and "an angel from Heaven." I grant all you say about my +self-tormenting folly: but has it been without cause? Has she not +refused me again and again with a mixture of scorn and resentment, after +going the utmost lengths with a man for whom she now disclaims all +affection; and what security can I have for her reserve with others, who +will not be restrained by feelings of delicacy towards her, and whom she +has probably preferred to me for their want of it. "SHE CAN MAKE NO +MORE CONFIDENCES"--these words ring for ever in my ears, and will be my +death-watch. They can have but one meaning, be sure of it--she always +expressed herself with the exactest propriety. That was one of the +things for which I loved her--shall I live to hate her for it? My poor +fond heart, that brooded over her and the remains of her affections as +my only hope of comfort upon earth, cannot brook this new degradation. +Who is there so low as me? Who is there besides (I ask) after the +homage I have paid her and the caresses she has lavished on me, so vile, +so abhorrent to love, to whom such an indignity could have happened? +When I think of this (and I think of nothing else) it stifles me. I am +pent up in burning, fruitless desires, which can find no vent or object. + Am I not hated, repulsed, derided by her whom alone I love or ever did +love? I cannot stay in any place, and seek in vain for relief from the +sense of her contempt and her ingratitude. I can settle to nothing: +what is the use of all I have done? Is it not that very circumstance +(my thinking beyond my strength, my feeling more than I need about so +many things) that has withered me up, and made me a thing for Love to +shrink from and wonder at? Who could ever feel that peace from the +touch of her dear hand that I have done; and is it not torn from me for +ever? My state is this, that I shall never lie down again at night nor +rise up in the morning in peace, nor ever behold my little boy's face +with pleasure while I live--unless I am restored to her favour. Instead +of that delicious feeling I had when she was heavenly-kind to me, and my +heart softened and melted in its own tenderness and her sweetness, I am +now inclosed in a dungeon of despair. The sky is marble to my thoughts; +nature is dead around me, as hope is within me; no object can give me +one gleam of satisfaction now, nor the prospect of it in time to come. +I wander by the sea-side; and the eternal ocean and lasting despair and +her face are before me. Slighted by her, on whom my heart by its last +fibre hung, where shall I turn? I wake with her by my side, not as my +sweet bedfellow, but as the corpse of my love, without a heart in her +bosom, cold, insensible, or struggling from me; and the worm gnaws me, +and the sting of unrequited love, and the canker of a hopeless, endless +sorrow. I have lost the taste of my food by feverish anxiety; and my +favourite beverage, which used to refresh me when I got up, has no +moisture in it. Oh! cold, solitary, sepulchral breakfasts, compared +with those which I promised myself with her; or which I made when she +had been standing an hour by my side, my guardian-angel, my wife, my +sister, my sweet friend, my Eve, my all; and had blest me with her +seraph kisses! Ah! what I suffer at present only shews what I have +enjoyed. But "the girl is a good girl, if there is goodness in human +nature." I thank you for those words; and I will fall down and worship +you, if you can prove them true: and I would not do much less for him +that proves her a demon. She is one or the other, that's certain; but I +fear the worst. Do let me know if anything has passed: suspense is my +greatest punishment. I am going into the country to see if I can work a +little in the three weeks I have yet to stay here. Write on the receipt +of this, and believe me ever your unspeakably obliged friend. + + + +TO EDINBURGH + + + + + +--"Stony-hearted" Edinburgh! What art thou to me? The dust of thy +streets mingles with my tears and blinds me. City of palaces, or of +tombs--a quarry, rather than the habitation of men! Art thou like +London, that populous hive, with its sunburnt, well-baked, brick-built +houses--its public edifices, its theatres, its bridges, its squares, its +ladies, and its pomp, its throng of wealth, its outstretched magnitude, +and its mighty heart that never lies still? Thy cold grey walls reflect +back the leaden melancholy of the soul. The square, hard-edged, +unyielding faces of thy inhabitants have no sympathy to impart. What is +it to me that I look along the level line of thy tenantless streets, and +meet perhaps a lawyer like a grasshopper chirping and skipping, or the +daughter of a Highland laird, haughty, fair, and freckled? Or why +should I look down your boasted Prince's Street, with the beetle-browed +Castle on one side, and the Calton Hill with its proud monument at the +further end, and the ridgy steep of Salisbury Crag, cut off abruptly by +Nature's boldest hand, and Arthur's Seat overlooking all, like a lioness +watching her cubs? Or shall I turn to the far-off Pentland Hills, with +Craig-Crook nestling beneath them, where lives the prince of critics and +the king of men? Or cast my eye unsated over the Frith of Forth, that +from my window of an evening (as I read of AMY and her love) glitters +like a broad golden mirror in the sun, and kisses the winding shores of +kingly Fife? Oh no! But to thee, to thee I turn, North Berwick-Law, +with thy blue cone rising out of summer seas; for thou art the beacon of +my banished thoughts, and dost point my way to her, who is my heart's +true home. The air is too thin for me, that has not the breath of Love +in it; that is not embalmed by her sighs! + + + +A THOUGHT + + + + + +I am not mad, but my heart is so; and raves within me, fierce and +untameable, like a panther in its den, and tries to get loose to its +lost mate, and fawn on her hand, and bend lowly at her feet. + + + +ANOTHER + + + + + +Oh! thou dumb heart, lonely, sad, shut up in the prison-house of this +rude form, that hast never found a fellow but for an instant, and in +very mockery of thy misery, speak, find bleeding words to express thy +thoughts, break thy dungeon-gloom, or die pronouncing thy Infelice's +name! + + + +ANOTHER + + + + + +Within my heart is lurking suspicion, and base fear, and shame and hate; +but above all, tyrannous love sits throned, crowned with her graces, +silent and in tears. + + + +LETTER IX + + + + + +My dear P----, You have been very kind to me in this business; but I +fear even your indulgence for my infirmities is beginning to fail. To +what a state am I reduced, and for what? For fancying a little artful +vixen to be an angel and a saint, because she affected to look like one, +to hide her rank thoughts and deadly purposes. Has she not murdered me +under the mask of the tenderest friendship? And why? Because I have +loved her with unutterable love, and sought to make her my wife. You +say it is my own "outrageous conduct" that has estranged her: nay, I +have been TOO GENTLE with her. I ask you first in candour whether the +ambiguity of her behaviour with respect to me, sitting and fondling a +man (circumstanced as I was) sometimes for half a day together, and then +declaring she had no love for him beyond common regard, and professing +never to marry, was not enough to excite my suspicions, which the +different exposures from the conversations below-stairs were not +calculated to allay? I ask you what you yourself would have felt or +done, if loving her as I did, you had heard what I did, time after time? + Did not her mother own to one of the grossest charges (which I shall +not repeat)--and is such indelicacy to be reconciled with her pretended +character (that character with which I fell in love, and to which I +MADE LOVE) without supposing her to be the greatest hypocrite in the +world? My unpardonable offence has been that I took her at her word, +and was willing to believe her the precise little puritanical person she +set up for. After exciting her wayward desires by the fondest embraces +and the purest kisses, as if she had been "made my wedded wife +yestreen," or was to become so to-morrow (for that was always my feeling +with respect to her)--I did not proceed to gratify them, or to follow up +my advantage by any action which should declare, "I think you a common +adventurer, and will see whether you are so or not!" Yet any one but a +credulous fool like me would have made the experiment, with whatever +violence to himself, as a matter of life and death; for I had every +reason to distrust appearances. Her conduct has been of a piece from +the beginning. In the midst of her closest and falsest endearments, she +has always (with one or two exceptions) disclaimed the natural inference +to be drawn from them, and made a verbal reservation, by which she might +lead me on in a Fool's Paradise, and make me the tool of her levity, her +avarice, and her love of intrigue as long as she liked, and dismiss me +whenever it suited her. This, you see, she has done, because my +intentions grew serious, and if complied with, would deprive her of THE +PLEASURES OF A SINGLE LIFE! Offer marriage to this "tradesman's +daughter, who has as nice a sense of honour as any one can have;" and +like Lady Bellaston in Tom Jones, she CUTS you immediately in a fit +of abhorrence and alarm. Yet she seemed to be of a different mind +formerly, when struggling from me in the height of our first intimacy, +she exclaimed--"However I might agree to my own ruin, I never will +consent to bring disgrace upon my family!" That I should have spared +the traitress after expressions like this, astonishes me when I look +back upon it. Yet if it were all to do over again, I know I should act +just the same part. Such is her power over me! I cannot run the least +risk of offending her--I love her so. When I look in her face, I cannot +doubt her truth! Wretched being that I am! I have thrown away my heart +and soul upon an unfeeling girl; and my life (that might have been so +happy, had she been what I thought her) will soon follow either +voluntarily, or by the force of grief, remorse, and disappointment. I +cannot get rid of the reflection for an instant, nor even seek relief +from its galling pressure. Ah! what a heart she has lost! All the love +and affection of my whole life were centred in her, who alone, I +thought, of all women had found out my true character, and knew how to +value my tenderness. Alas! alas! that this, the only hope, joy, or +comfort I ever had, should turn to a mockery, and hang like an ugly film +over the remainder of my days!--I was at Roslin Castle yesterday. It +lies low in a rude, but sheltered valley, hid from the vulgar gaze, and +powerfully reminds one of the old song. The straggling fragments of the +russet ruins, suspended smiling and graceful in the air as if they would +linger out another century to please the curious beholder, the green +larch-trees trembling between with the blue sky and white silver clouds, +the wild mountain plants starting out here and there, the date of the +year on an old low door-way, but still more, the beds of flowers in +orderly decay, that seem to have no hand to tend them, but keep up a +sort of traditional remembrance of civilization in former ages, present +altogether a delightful and amiable subject for contemplation. The +exquisite beauty of the scene, with the thought of what I should feel, +should I ever be restored to her, and have to lead her through such +places as my adored, my angelwife, almost drove me beside myself. For +this picture, this ecstatic vision, what have I of late instead as the +image of the reality? Demoniacal possessions. I see the young witch +seated in another's lap, twining her serpent arms round him, her eye +glancing and her cheeks on fire--why does not the hideous thought choke +me? Or why do I not go and find out the truth at once? The moonlight +streams over the silver waters: the bark is in the bay that might waft +me to her, almost with a wish. The mountain-breeze sighs out her name: +old ocean with a world of tears murmurs back my woes! Does not my heart +yearn to be with her; and shall I not follow its bidding? No, I must +wait till I am free; and then I will take my Freedom (a glad prize) and +lay it at her feet and tell her my proud love of her that would not +brook a rival in her dishonour, and that would have her all or none, and +gain her or lose myself for ever!-- + +You see by this letter the way I am in, and I hope you will excuse it as +the picture of a half-disordered mind. The least respite from my +uneasiness (such as I had yesterday) only brings the contrary reflection +back upon me, like a flood; and by letting me see the happiness I have +lost, makes me feel, by contrast, more acutely what I am doomed to bear. + + + +LETTER X + + + + + +Dear Friend, Here I am at St. Bees once more, amid the scenes which I +greeted in their barrenness in winter; but which have now put on their +full green attire that shews luxuriant to the eye, but speaks a tale of +sadness to this heart widowed of its last, its dearest, its only hope! +Oh! lovely Bees-Inn! here I composed a volume of law-cases, here I wrote +my enamoured follies to her, thinking her human, and that "all below was +not the fiend's"--here I got two cold, sullen answers from the little +witch, and here I was ----- and I was damned. I thought the revisiting +the old haunts would have soothed me for a time, but it only brings back +the sense of what I have suffered for her and of her unkindness the more +strongly, till I cannot endure the recollection. I eye the Heavens in +dumb despair, or vent my sorrows in the desart air. "To the winds, to +the waves, to the rocks I complain"--you may suppose with what effect! +I fear I shall be obliged to return. I am tossed about (backwards and +forwards) by my passion, so as to become ridiculous. I can now +understand how it is that mad people never remain in the same +place--they are moving on for ever, FROM THEMSELVES! + +Do you know, you would have been delighted with the effect of the +Northern twilight on this romantic country as I rode along last night? +The hills and groves and herds of cattle were seen reposing in the grey +dawn of midnight, as in a moonlight without shadow. The whole wide +canopy of Heaven shed its reflex light upon them, like a pure crystal +mirror. No sharp points, no petty details, no hard contrasts--every +object was seen softened yet distinct, in its simple outline and natural +tones, transparent with an inward light, breathing its own mild lustre. +The landscape altogether was like an airy piece of mosaic-work, or like +one of Poussin's broad massy landscapes or Titian's lovely pastoral +scenes. Is it not so, that poets see nature, veiled to the sight, but +revealed to the soul in visionary grace and grandeur! I confess the +sight touched me; and might have removed all sadness except mine. So (I +thought) the light of her celestial face once shone into my soul, and +wrapt me in a heavenly trance. The sense I have of beauty raises me for +a moment above myself, but depresses me the more afterwards, when I +recollect how it is thrown away in vain admiration, and that it only +makes me more susceptible of pain from the mortifications I meet with. +Would I had never seen her! I might then not indeed have been happy, +but at least I might have passed my life in peace, and have sunk into +forgetfulness without a pang.--The noble scenery in this country mixes +with my passion, and refines, but does not relieve it. I was at +Stirling Castle not long ago. It gave me no pleasure. The declivity +seemed to me abrupt, not sublime; for in truth I did not shrink back +from it with terror. The weather-beaten towers were stiff and formal: +the air was damp and chill: the river winded its dull, slimy way like a +snake along the marshy grounds: and the dim misty tops of Ben Leddi, and +the lovely Highlands (woven fantastically of thin air) mocked my +embraces and tempted my longing eyes like her, the sole queen and +mistress of my thoughts! I never found my contemplations on this +subject so subtilised and at the same time so desponding as on that +occasion. I wept myself almost blind, and I gazed at the broad golden +sunset through my tears that fell in showers. As I trod the green +mountain turf, oh! how I wished to be laid beneath it--in one grave with +her--that I might sleep with her in that cold bed, my hand in hers, and +my heart for ever still--while worms should taste her sweet body, that I +had never tasted! There was a time when I could bear solitude; but it +is too much for me at present. Now I am no sooner left to myself than I +am lost in infinite space, and look round me in vain for suppose or +comfort. She was my stay, my hope: without her hand to cling to, I +stagger like an infant on the edge of a precipice. The universe without +her is one wide, hollow abyss, in which my harassed thoughts can find no +resting-place. I must break off here; for the hysterica passio comes +upon me, and threatens to unhinge my reason. + + + +LETTER XI + + + + + +My dear and good Friend, I am afraid I trouble you with my querulous +epistles, but this is probably the last. To-morrow or the next day +decides my fate with respect to the divorce, when I expect to be a free +man. In vain! Was it not for her and to lay my freedom at her feet, +that I consented to this step which has cost me infinite perplexity, and +now to be discarded for the first pretender that came in her way! If +so, I hardly think I can survive it. You who have been a favourite with +women, do not know what it is to be deprived of one's only hope, and to +have it turned to shame and disappointment. There is nothing in the +world left that can afford me one drop of comfort--THIS I feel more +and more. Everything is to me a mockery of pleasure, like her love. +The breeze does not cool me: the blue sky does not cheer me. I gaze +only on her face averted from me--alas! the only face that ever was +turned fondly to me! And why am I thus treated? Because I wanted her +to be mine for ever in love or friendship, and did not push my gross +familiarities as far as I might. "Why can you not go on as we have +done, and say nothing about the word, FOREVER?" Was it not plain from +this that she even then meditated an escape from me to some less +sentimental lover? "Do you allow anyone else to do so?" I said to her +once, as I was toying with her. "No, not now!" was her answer; that is, +because there was nobody else in the house to take freedoms with her. I +was very well as a stopgap, but I was to be nothing more. While the +coast was clear, I had it all my own way: but the instant C---- came, +she flung herself at his head in the most barefaced way, ran breathless +up stairs before him, blushed when his foot was heard, watched for him +in the passage, and was sure to be in close conference with him when he +went down again. It was then my mad proceedings commenced. No wonder. +Had I not reason to be jealous of every appearance of familiarity with +others, knowing how easy she had been with me at first, and that she +only grew shy when I did not take farther liberties? What has her +character to rest upon but her attachment to me, which she now denies, +not modestly, but impudently? Will you yourself say that if she had all +along no particular regard for me, she will not do as much or more with +other more likely men? "She has had," she says, "enough of my +conversation," so it could not be that! Ah! my friend, it was not to be +supposed I should ever meet even with the outward demonstrations of +regard from any woman but a common trader in the endearments of love! I +have tasted the sweets of the well practiced illusion, and now feel the +bitterness of knowing what a bliss I am deprived of, and must ever be +deprived of. Intolerable conviction! Yet I might, I believe, have won +her by other methods; but some demon held my hand. How indeed could I +offer her the least insult when I worshipped her very footsteps; and +even now pay her divine honours from my inmost heart, whenever I think +of her, abased and brutalised as I have been by that Circean cup of +kisses, of enchantments, of which I have drunk! I am choked, withered, +dried up with chagrin, remorse, despair, from which I have not a +moment's respite, day or night. I have always some horrid dream about +her, and wake wondering what is the matter that "she is no longer the +same to me as ever?" I thought at least we should always remain dear +friends, if nothing more--did she not talk of coming to live with me +only the day before I left her in the winter? But "she's gone, I am +abused, and my revenge must be to LOVE her!"--Yet she knows that one +line, one word would save me, the cruel, heartless destroyer! I see +nothing for it but madness, unless Friday brings a change, or unless she +is willing to let me go back. You must know I wrote to her to that +purpose, but it was a very quiet, sober letter, begging pardon, and +professing reform for the future, and all that. What effect it will +have, I know not. I was forced to get out of the way of her answer, +till Friday came. + +Ever yours. + + + +TO S. L. + + + + + +My dear Miss L----, EVIL TO THEM THAT EVIL THINK, is an old saying; +and I have found it a true one. I have ruined myself by my unjust +suspicions of you. Your sweet friendship was the balm of my life; and I +have lost it, I fear for ever, by one fault and folly after another. +What would I give to be restored to the place in your esteem, which, you +assured me, I held only a few months ago! Yet I was not contented, but +did all I could to torment myself and harass you by endless doubts and +jealousy. Can you not forget and forgive the past, and judge of me by +my conduct in future? Can you not take all my follies in the lump, and +say like a good, generous girl, "Well, I'll think no more of them?" In +a word, may I come back, and try to behave better? A line to say so +would be an additional favour to so many already received by + +Your obliged friend, + +And sincere well-wisher. + + + +LETTER XII. TO C. P---- + + + + + +I have no answer from her. I'm mad. I wish you to call on M---- in +confidence, to say I intend to make her an offer of my hand, and that I +will write to her father to that effect the instant I am free, and ask +him whether he thinks it will be to any purpose, and what he would +advise me to do. + + + +UNALTERED LOVE + + + + + +"Love is not love that alteration finds: Oh no! it is an ever-fixed +mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken." + + +Shall I not love her for herself alone, in spite of fickleness and +folly? To love her for her regard to me, is not to love her, but +myself. She has robbed me of herself: shall she also rob me of my love +of her? Did I not live on her smile? Is it less sweet because it is +withdrawn from me? Did I not adore her every grace? Does she bend less +enchantingly, because she has turned from me to another? Is my love +then in the power of fortune, or of her caprice? No, I will have it +lasting as it is pure; and I will make a Goddess of her, and build a +temple to her in my heart, and worship her on indestructible altars, and +raise statues to her: and my homage shall be unblemished as her +unrivalled symmetry of form; and when that fails, the memory of it shall +survive; and my bosom shall be proof to scorn, as hers has been to pity; +and I will pursue her with an unrelenting love, and sue to be her slave, +and tend her steps without notice and without reward; and serve her +living, and mourn for her when dead. And thus my love will have shewn +itself superior to her hate; and I shall triumph and then die. This is +my idea of the only true and heroic love! Such is mine for her. + + + +PERFECT LOVE + + + + + +Perfect love has this advantage in it, that it leaves the possessor of +it nothing farther to desire. There is one object (at least) in which +the soul finds absolute content, for which it seeks to live, or dares to +die. The heart has as it were filled up the moulds of the imagination. +The truth of passion keeps pace with and outvies the extravagance of +mere language. There are no words so fine, no flattery so soft, that +there is not a sentiment beyond them, that it is impossible to express, +at the bottom of the heart where true love is. What idle sounds the +common phrases, adorable creature, angel, divinity, are? What a proud +reflection it is to have a feeling answering to all these, rooted in the +breast, unalterable, unutterable, to which all other feelings are light +and vain! Perfect love reposes on the object of its choice, like the +halcyon on the wave; and the air of heaven is around it. + + + +FROM C. P., ESQ. + + + + + +London, July 4th, I822. + + +I have seen M----! Now, my dear H----, let me entreat and adjure you to +take what I have to tell you, FOR WHAT IT IS WORTH--neither for less, +nor more. In the first place, I have learned nothing decisive from him. + This, as you will at once see, is, as far as it goes, good. I am +either to hear from him, or see him again in a day or two; but I thought +you would like to know what passed inconclusive as it was--so I write +without delay, and in great haste to save a post. I found him frank, +and even friendly in his manner to me, and in his views respecting you. +I think that he is sincerely sorry for your situation; and he feels that +the person who has placed you in that situation is not much less +awkwardly situated herself; and he professes that he would willingly do +what he can for the good of both. But he sees great difficulties +attending the affair--which he frankly professes to consider as an +altogether unfortunate one. With respect to the marriage, he seems to +see the most formidable objections to it, on both sides; but yet he by +no means decidedly says that it cannot, or that it ought not to take +place. These, mind you, are his own feelings on the subject: but the +most important point I learn from him is this, that he is not prepared +to use his influence either way--that the rest of the family are of the +same way of feeling; and that, in fact, the thing must and does entirely +rest with herself. To learn this was, as you see, gaining a great +point.--When I then endeavoured to ascertain whether he knew anything +decisive as to what are her views on the subject, I found that he did +not. He has an opinion on the subject, and he didn't scruple to tell me +what it was; but he has no positive knowledge. In short, he believes, +from what he learns from herself (and he had purposely seen her on the +subject, in consequence of my application to him) that she is at present +indisposed to the marriage; but he is not prepared to say positively +that she will not consent to it. Now all this, coming from him in the +most frank and unaffected manner, and without any appearance of cant, +caution, or reserve, I take to be most important as it respects your +views, whatever they may be; and certainly much more favourable to them +(I confess it) than I was prepared to expect, supposing them to remain +as they were. In fact as I said before, the affair rests entirely with +herself. They are none of them disposed either to further the marriage, +or throw any insurmountable obstacles in the way of it; and what is more +important than all, they are evidently by no means CERTAIN that SHE +may not, at some future period, consent to it; or they would, for her +sake as well as their own, let you know as much flatly, and put an end +to the affair at once. + +Seeing in how frank and straitforward a manner he received what I had to +say to him, and replied to it, I proceeded to ask him what were HIS +views, and what were likely to be HERS (in case she did not consent) +as to whether you should return to live in the house;--but I added, +without waiting for his answer, that if she intended to persist in +treating you as she had done for some time past, it would be worse than +madness for you to think of returning. I added that, in case you did +return, all you would expect from her would be that she would treat you +with civility and kindness--that she would continue to evince that +friendly feeling towards you, that she had done for a great length of +time, &c. To this, he said, he could really give no decisive reply, but +that he should be most happy if, by any intervention of his, he could +conduce to your comfort; but he seemed to think that for you to return +on any express understanding that she should behave to you in any +particular manner, would be to place her in a most awkward situation. +He went somewhat at length into this point, and talked very reasonably +about it; the result, however, was that he would not throw any obstacles +in the way of your return, or of her treating you as a friend, &c., nor +did it appear that he believed she would refuse to do so. And, finally, +we parted on the understanding that he would see them on the subject, +and ascertain what could be done for the comfort of all parties: though +he was of opinion that if you could make up your mind to break off the +acquaintance altogether, it would be the best plan of all. I am to hear +from him again in a day or two.--Well, what do you say to all this? Can +you turn it to any thing but good--comparative good? If you would know +what _I_ say to it, it is this:--She is still to be won by wise and +prudent conduct on your part; she was always to have been won by +such;--and if she is lost, it has been (not, as you sometimes suppose, +because you have not carried that unwise, may I not say UNWORTHY? +conduct still farther, but because you gave way to it at all. Of course +I use the terms "wise" and "prudent" with reference to your object. +Whether the pursuit of that object is wise, only yourself can judge. I +say she has all along been to be won, and she still is to be won; and +all that stands in the way of your views at this moment is your past +conduct. They are all of them, every soul, frightened at you; they have +SEEN enough of you to make them so; and they have doubtless heard ten +times more than they have seen, or than anyone else has seen. They are +all of them including M---- (and particularly she herself) frightened +out of their wits, as to what might be your treatment of her if she were +yours; and they dare not trust you--they will not trust you, at present. + I do not say that they will trust you, or rather that SHE will, for +it all depends on her, when you have gone through a probation, but I am +sure that she will not trust you till you have. You will, I hope, not +be angry with me when I say that she would be a fool if she did. If she +were to accept you at present, and without knowing more of you, even I +should begin to suspect that she had an unworthy motive for doing it. +Let me not forget to mention what is perhaps as important a point as +any, as it regards the marriage. I of course stated to M---- that when +you are free, you are prepared to make her a formal offer of your hand; +but I begged him, if he was certain that such an offer would be refused, +to tell me so plainly at once, that I might endeavour, in that case, to +dissuade you from subjecting yourself to the pain of such a refusal. +HE WOULD NOT TELL ME THAT HE WAS CERTAIN. He said his opinion was +that she would not accept your offer, but still he seemed to think that +there would be no harm in making it!---One word more, and a very +important one. He once, and without my referring in the slightest +manner to that part of the subject, spoke of her as a GOOD GIRL, and +LIKELY TO MAKE ANY MAN AN EXCELLENT WIFE! Do you think if she were a +bad girl (and if she were, he must know her to be so) he would have +dared to do this, under these circumstances?--And once, in speaking of +HIS not being a fit person to set his face against "marrying for +love," he added "I did so myself, and out of that house; and I have had +reason to rejoice at it ever since." And mind (for I anticipate your +cursed suspicions) I'm certain, at least, if manner can entitle one to +be certain of any thing, that he said all this spontaneously, and +without any understood motive; and I'm certain, too, that he knows you +to be a person that it would not do to play any tricks of this kind +with. I believe--(and all this would never have entered my thoughts, +but that I know it will enter yours) I believe that even if they thought +(as you have sometimes supposed they do) that she needs whitewashing, or +making an honest woman of, YOU would be the last person they would +think of using for such a purpose, for they know (as well as I do) that +you couldn't fail to find out the trick in a month, and would turn her +into the street the next moment, though she were twenty times your +wife--and that, as to the consequences of doing so, you would laugh at +them, even if you couldn't escape from them.--I shall lose the post if I +say more. + +Believe me, + +Ever truly your friend, + +C. P. + + + +LETTER XIII + + + + + +My dear P----, You have saved my life. If I do not keep friends with +her now, I deserve to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. She is an angel +from Heaven, and you cannot pretend I ever said a word to the contrary! +The little rogue must have liked me from the first, or she never could +have stood all these hurricanes without slipping her cable. What could +she find in me? "I have mistook my person all this while," &c. Do you +know I saw a picture, the very pattern of her, the other day, at +Dalkeith Palace (Hope finding Fortune in the Sea), just before this +blessed news came, and the resemblance drove me almost out of my senses. + Such delicacy, such fulness, such perfect softness, such buoyancy, such +grace! If it is not the very image of her, I am no judge.--You have the +face to doubt my making the best husband in the world; you might as well +doubt it if I was married to one of the Houris of Paradise. She is a +saint, an angel, a love. If she deceives me again, she kills me. But I +will have such a kiss when I get back, as shall last me twenty years. +May God bless her for not utterly disowning and destroying me! What an +exquisite little creature it is, and how she holds out to the last in +her system of consistent contradictions! Since I wrote to you about +making a formal proposal, I have had her face constantly before me, +looking so like some faultless marble statue, as cold, as fixed and +graceful as ever statue did; the expression (nothing was ever like +THAT!) seemed to say--"I wish I could love you better than I do, but +still I will be yours." No, I'll never believe again that she will not +be mine; for I think she was made on purpose for me. If there's anyone +else that understands that turn of her head as I do, I'll give her up +without scruple. I have made up my mind to this, never to dream of +another woman, while she even thinks it worth her while to REFUSE TO +HAVE ME. You see I am not hard to please, after all. Did M---- know +of the intimacy that had subsisted between us? Or did you hint at it? +I think it would be a CLENCHER, if he did. How ought I to behave when +I go back? Advise a fool, who had nearly lost a Goddess by his folly. +The thing was, I could not think it possible she would ever like ME. +Her taste is singular, but not the worse for that. I'd rather have her +love, or liking (call it what you will) than empires. I deserve to call +her mine; for nothing else CAN atone for what I've gone through for +her. I hope your next letter will not reverse all, and then I shall be +happy till I see her,--one of the blest when I do see her, if she looks +like my own beautiful love. I may perhaps write a line when I come to +my right wits.--Farewel at present, and thank you a thousand times for +what you have done for your poor friend. + +P. S.--I like what M---- said about her sister, much. There are good +people in the world: I begin to see it, and believe it. + + + +LETTER THE LAST + + + + + +Dear P----, To-morrow is the decisive day that makes me or mars me. I +will let you know the result by a line added to this. Yet what +signifies it, since either way I have little hope there, "whence alone +my hope cometh!" You must know I am strangely in the dumps at this +present writing. My reception with her is doubtful, and my fate is then +certain. The hearing of your happiness has, I own, made me thoughtful. +It is just what I proposed to her to do--to have crossed the Alps with +me, to sail on sunny seas, to bask in Italian skies, to have visited +Vevai and the rocks of Meillerie, and to have repeated to her on the +spot the story of Julia and St. Preux, and to have shewn her all that my +heart had stored up for her--but on my forehead alone is +written--REJECTED! Yet I too could have adored as fervently, and loved +as tenderly as others, had I been permitted. You are going abroad, you +say, happy in making happy. Where shall I be? In the grave, I hope, or +else in her arms. To me, alas! there is no sweetness out of her sight, +and that sweetness has turned to bitterness, I fear; that gentleness to +sullen scorn! Still I hope for the best. If she will but HAVE me, +I'll make her LOVE me: and I think her not giving a positive answer +looks like it, and also shews that there is no one else. Her holding +out to the last also, I think, proves that she was never to have been +gained but with honour. She's a strange, almost an inscrutable girl: +but if I once win her consent, I shall kill her with kindness.--Will you +let me have a sight of SOMEBODY before you go? I should be most +proud. I was in hopes to have got away by the Steam-boat to-morrow, but +owing to the business not coming on till then, I cannot; and may not be +in town for another week, unless I come by the Mail, which I am strongly +tempted to do. In the latter case I shall be there, and visible on +Saturday evening. Will you look in and see, about eight o'clock? I +wish much to see you and her and J. H. and my little boy once more; and +then, if she is not what she once was to me, I care not if I die that +instant. I will conclude here till to-morrow, as I am getting into my +old melancholy.-- + +It is all over, and I am my own man, and yours ever-- + + + +PART III + + + + +ADDRESSED TO J. S. K.---- + + + + + +My dear K----, It is all over, and I know my fate. I told you I would +send you word, if anything decisive happened; but an impenetrable +mystery hung over the affair till lately. It is at last (by the merest +accident in the world) dissipated; and I keep my promise, both for your +satisfaction, and for the ease of my own mind. + +You remember the morning when I said "I will go and repose my sorrows at +the foot of Ben Lomond"--and when from Dumbarton Bridge its +giant-shadow, clad in air and sunshine, appeared in view. We had a +pleasant day's walk. We passed Smollett's monument on the road (somehow +these poets touch one in reflection more than most military +heroes)--talked of old times; you repeated Logan's beautiful verses to +the cuckoo,* which I wanted to compare with Wordsworth's, but my courage +failed me; you then told me some passages of an early attachment which +was suddenly broken off; we considered together which was the most to be +pitied, a disappointment in love where the attachment was mutual or one +where there has been no return, and we both agreed, I think, that the +former was best to be endured, and that to have the consciousness of it +a companion for life was the least evil of the two, as there was a +secret sweetness that took off the bitterness and the sting of regret, +and "the memory of what once had been" atoned, in some measure, and at +intervals, for what "never more could be." In the other case, there was +nothing to look back to with tender satisfaction, no redeeming trait, +not even a possibility of turning it to good. It left behind it not +cherished sighs, but stifled pangs. The galling sense of it did not +bring moisture into the eyes, but dried up the heart ever after. One +had been my fate, the other had been yours! + + +[*--"Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou +hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year." + +So they begin. It was the month of May; the cuckoo sang shrouded in +some woody copse; the showers fell between whiles; my friend repeated +the lines with native enthusiasm in a clear manly voice, still resonant +of youth and hope. Mr. Wordsworth will excuse me, if in these +circumstances I declined entering the field with his profounder +metaphysical strain, and kept my preference to myself.] + + +You startled me every now and then from my reverie by the robust voice, +in which you asked the country people (by no means prodigal of their +answers)--"If there was any trout fishing in those streams?"--and our +dinner at Luss set us up for the rest of our day's march. The sky now +became overcast; but this, I think, added to the effect of the scene. +The road to Tarbet is superb. It is on the very verge of the +lake--hard, level, rocky, with low stone bridges constantly flung across +it, and fringed with birch trees, just then budding into spring, behind +which, as through a slight veil, you saw the huge shadowy form of Ben +Lomond. It lifts its enormous but graceful bulk direct from the edge of +the water without any projecting lowlands, and has in this respect much +the advantage of Skiddaw. Loch Lomond comes upon you by degrees as you +advance, unfolding and then withdrawing its conscious beauties like an +accomplished coquet. You are struck with the point of a rock, the arch +of a bridge, the Highland huts (like the first rude habitations of men) +dug out of the soil, built of turf, and covered with brown heather, a +sheep-cote, some straggling cattle feeding half-way down a precipice; +but as you advance farther on, the view expands into the perfection of +lake scenery. It is nothing (or your eye is caught by nothing) but +water, earth, and sky. Ben Lomond waves to the right, in its simple +majesty, cloud-capt or bare, and descending to a point at the head of +the lake, shews the Trossacs beyond, tumbling about their blue ridges +like woods waving; to the left is the Cobler, whose top is like a castle +shattered in pieces and nodding to its ruin; and at your side rise the +shapes of round pastoral hills, green, fleeced with herds, and retiring +into mountainous bays and upland valleys, where solitude and peace might +make their lasting home, if peace were to be found in solitude! That it +was not always so, I was a sufficient proof; for there was one image +that alone haunted me in the midst of all this sublimity and beauty, and +turned it to a mockery and a dream! + +The snow on the mountain would not let us ascend; and being weary of +waiting and of being visited by the guide every two hours to let us know +that the weather would not do, we returned, you homewards, and I to +London-- + + +"Italiam, Italiam!" + + +You know the anxious expectations with which I set out:--now hear the +result-- + +As the vessel sailed up the Thames, the air thickened with the +consciousness of being near her, and I "heaved her name pantingly +forth." As I approached the house, I could not help thinking of the +lines-- + + +"How near am I to a happiness, That earth exceeds not! Not another like +it. The treasures of the deep are not so precious As are the conceal'd +comforts of a man Lock'd up in woman's love. I scent the air Of +blessings when I come but near the house. What a delicious breath true +love sends forth! The violet-beds not sweeter. Now for a welcome Able +to draw men's envies upon man: A kiss now that will hang upon my lip, As +sweet as morning dew upon a rose, And full as long!" + + +I saw her, but I saw at the first glance that there was something amiss. + It was with much difficulty and after several pressing intreaties that +she was prevailed on to come up into the room; and when she did, she +stood at the door, cold, distant, averse; and when at length she was +persuaded by my repeated remonstrances to come and take my hand, and I +offered to touch her lips, she turned her head and shrunk from my +embraces, as if quite alienated or mortally offended. I asked what it +could mean? What had I done in her absence to have incurred her +displeasure? Why had she not written to me? I could get only short, +sullen, disconnected answers, as if there was something labouring in her +mind which she either could not or would not impart. I hardly knew how +to bear this first reception after so long an absence, and so different +from the one my sentiments towards her merited; but I thought it +possible it might be prudery (as I had returned without having actually +accomplished what I went about) or that she had taken offence at +something in my letters. She saw how much I was hurt. I asked her, "If +she was altered since I went away?"--"No." "If there was any one else +who had been so fortunate as to gain her favourable opinion?"--"No, +there was no one else." "What was it then? Was it any thing in my +letters? Or had I displeased her by letting Mr. P---- know she wrote to +me?"--"No, not at all; but she did not apprehend my last letter required +any answer, or she would have replied to it." All this appeared to me +very unsatisfactory and evasive; but I could get no more from her, and +was obliged to let her go with a heavy, foreboding heart. I however +found that C---- was gone, and no one else had been there, of whom I had +cause to be jealous.--"Should I see her on the morrow?"--"She believed +so, but she could not promise." The next morning she did not appear +with the breakfast as usual. At this I grew somewhat uneasy. The +little Buonaparte, however, was placed in its old position on the +mantelpiece, which I considered as a sort of recognition of old times. +I saw her once or twice casually; nothing particular happened till the +next day, which was Sunday. I took occasion to go into the parlour for +the newspaper, which she gave me with a gracious smile, and seemed +tolerably frank and cordial. This of course acted as a spell upon me. +I walked out with my little boy, intending to go and dine out at one or +two places, but I found that I still contrived to bend my steps towards +her, and I went back to take tea at home. While we were out, I talked +to William about Sarah, saying that she too was unhappy, and asking him +to make it up with her. He said, if she was unhappy, he would not bear +her malice any more. When she came up with the tea-things, I said to +her, "William has something to say to you--I believe he wants to be +friends." On which he said in his abrupt, hearty manner, "Sarah, I'm +sorry if I've ever said anything to vex you"--so they shook hands, and +she said, smiling affably--"THEN I'll think no more of it!" I +added--"I see you've brought me back my little Buonaparte"--She answered +with tremulous softness--"I told you I'd keep it safe for you!"--as if +her pride and pleasure in doing so had been equal, and she had, as it +were, thought of nothing during my absence but how to greet me with this +proof of her fidelity on my return. I cannot describe her manner. Her +words are few and simple; but you can have no idea of the exquisite, +unstudied, irresistible graces with which she accompanies them, unless +you can suppose a Greek statue to smile, move, and speak. Those lines +in Tibullus seem to have been written on purpose for her-- + + +Quicquid agit quoquo vestigil vertit, Componit furtim, subsequiturque +decor. + + +Or what do you think of those in a modern play, which might actually +have been composed with an eye to this little trifler- + + +--"See with what a waving air she goes Along the corridor. How like a +fawn! Yet statelier. No sound (however soft) Nor gentlest echo telleth +when she treads, But every motion of her shape doth seem Hallowed by +silence. So did Hebe grow Among the gods a paragon! Away, I'm grown The +very fool of Love!" + + +The truth is, I never saw anything like her, nor I never shall again. +How then do I console myself for the loss of her? Shall I tell you, but +you will not mention it again? I am foolish enough to believe that she +and I, in spite of every thing, shall be sitting together over a +sea-coal fire, a comfortable good old couple, twenty years hence! But +to my narrative.-- + +I was delighted with the alteration in her manner, and said, referring +to the bust--"You know it is not mine, but yours; I gave it you; nay, I +have given you all--my heart, and whatever I possess, is yours! She +seemed good-humouredly to decline this carte blanche offer, and waved, +like a thing of enchantment, out of the room. False calm!--Deceitful +smiles!--Short interval of peace, followed by lasting woe! I sought an +interview with her that same evening. I could not get her to come any +farther than the door. "She was busy--she could hear what I had to say +there." Why do you seem to avoid me as you do? Not one five minutes' +conversation, for the sake of old acquaintance? Well, then, for the +sake of THE LITTLE IMAGE!" The appeal seemed to have lost its +efficacy; the charm was broken; she remained immoveable. "Well, then I +must come to you, if you will not run away." I went and sat down in a +chair near the door, and took her hand, and talked to her for three +quarters of an hour; and she listened patiently, thoughtfully, and +seemed a good deal affected by what I said. I told her how much I had +felt, how much I had suffered for her in my absence, and how much I had +been hurt by her sudden silence, for which I knew not how to account. I +could have done nothing to offend her while I was away; and my letters +were, I hoped, tender and respectful. I had had but one thought ever +present with me; her image never quitted my side, alone or in company, +to delight or distract me. Without her I could have no peace, nor ever +should again, unless she would behave to me as she had done formerly. +There was no abatement of my regard to her; why was she so changed? I +said to her, "Ah! Sarah, when I think that it is only a year ago that +you were everything to me I could wish, and that now you seem lost to me +for ever, the month of May (the name of which ought to be a signal for +joy and hope) strikes chill to my heart.--How different is this meeting +from that delicious parting, when you seemed never weary of repeating +the proofs of your regard and tenderness, and it was with difficulty we +tore ourselves asunder at last! I am ten thousand times fonder of you +than I was then, and ten thousand times more unhappy!" "You have no +reason to be so; my feelings towards you are the same as they ever +were." I told her "She was my all of hope or comfort: my passion for +her grew stronger every time I saw her." She answered, "She was sorry +for it; for THAT she never could return." I said something about +looking ill: she said in her pretty, mincing, emphatic way, "I despise +looks!" So, thought I, it is not that; and she says there's no one +else: it must be some strange air she gives herself, in consequence of +the approaching change in my circumstances. She has been probably +advised not to give up till all is fairly over, and then she will be my +own sweet girl again. All this time she was standing just outside the +door, my hand in hers (would that they could have grown together!) she +was dressed in a loose morning-gown, her hair curled beautifully; she +stood with her profile to me, and looked down the whole time. No +expression was ever more soft or perfect. Her whole attitude, her whole +form, was dignity and bewitching grace. I said to her, "You look like a +queen, my love, adorned with your own graces!" I grew idolatrous, and +would have kneeled to her. She made a movement, as if she was +displeased. I tried to draw her towards me. She wouldn't. I then got +up, and offered to kiss her at parting. I found she obstinately +refused. This stung me to the quick. It was the first time in her life +she had ever done so. There must be some new bar between us to produce +these continued denials; and she had not even esteem enough left to tell +me so. I followed her half-way down-stairs, but to no purpose, and +returned into my room, confirmed in my most dreadful surmises. I could +bear it no longer. I gave way to all the fury of disappointed hope and +jealous passion. I was made the dupe of trick and cunning, killed with +cold, sullen scorn; and, after all the agony I had suffered, could +obtain no explanation why I was subjected to it. I was still to be +tantalized, tortured, made the cruel sport of one, for whom I would have +sacrificed all. I tore the locket which contained her hair (and which I +used to wear continually in my bosom, as the precious token of her dear +regard) from my neck, and trampled it in pieces. I then dashed the +little Buonaparte on the ground, and stamped upon it, as one of her +instruments of mockery. I could not stay in the room; I could not leave +it; my rage, my despair were uncontroulable. I shrieked curses on her +name, and on her false love; and the scream I uttered (so pitiful and so +piercing was it, that the sound of it terrified me) instantly brought +the whole house, father, mother, lodgers and all, into the room. They +thought I was destroying her and myself. I had gone into the bedroom, +merely to hide away from myself, and as I came out of it, raging-mad +with the new sense of present shame and lasting misery, Mrs. F---- +said, "She's in there! He has got her in there!" thinking the cries had +proceeded from her, and that I had been offering her violence. "Oh! +no," I said, "She's in no danger from me; I am not the person;" and +tried to burst from this scene of degradation. The mother endeavoured +to stop me, and said, "For God's sake, don't go out, Mr. -----! for +God's sake, don't!" Her father, who was not, I believe, in the secret, +and was therefore justly scandalised at such outrageous conduct, said +angrily, "Let him go! Why should he stay?" I however sprang down +stairs, and as they called out to me, "What is it?--What has she done to +you?" I answered, "She has murdered me!--She has destroyed me for +ever!--She has doomed my soul to perdition!" I rushed out of the house, +thinking to quit it forever; but I was no sooner in the street, than the +desolation and the darkness became greater, more intolerable; and the +eddying violence of my passion drove me back to the source, from whence +it sprung. This unexpected explosion, with the conjectures to which it +would give rise, could not be very agreeable to the precieuse or her +family; and when I went back, the father was waiting at the door, as if +anticipating this sudden turn of my feelings, with no friendly aspect. +I said, "I have to beg pardon, Sir; but my mad fit is over, and I wish +to say a few words to you in private." He seemed to hesitate, but some +uneasy forebodings on his own account, probably, prevailed over his +resentment; or, perhaps (as philosophers have a desire to know the cause +of thunder) it was a natural curiosity to know what circumstances of +provocation had given rise to such an extraordinary scene of confusion. +When we reached my room, I requested him to be seated. I said, "It is +true, Sir, I have lost my peace of mind for ever, but at present I am +quite calm and collected, and I wish to explain to you why I have +behaved in so extravagant a way, and to ask for your advice and +intercession." He appeared satisfied, and I went on. I had no chance +either of exculpating myself, or of probing the question to the bottom, +but by stating the naked truth, and therefore I said at once, "Sarah +told me, Sir (and I never shall forget the way in which she told me, +fixing her dove's eyes upon me, and looking a thousand tender reproaches +for the loss of that good opinion, which she held dearer than all the +world) she told me, Sir, that as you one day passed the door, which +stood a-jar, you saw her in an attitude which a good deal startled you; +I mean sitting in my lap, with her arms round my neck, and mine twined +round her in the fondest manner. What I wished to ask was, whether this +was actually the case, or whether it was a mere invention of her own, to +enhance the sense of my obligations to her; for I begin to doubt +everything?"--"Indeed, it was so; and very much surprised and hurt I was +to see it." "Well then, Sir, I can only say, that as you saw her +sitting then, so she had been sitting for the last year and a half, +almost every day of her life, by the hour together; and you may judge +yourself, knowing what a nice modest-looking girl she is, whether, after +having been admitted to such intimacy with so sweet a creature, and for +so long a time, it is not enough to make any one frantic to be received +by her as I have been since my return, without any provocation given or +cause assigned for it." The old man answered very seriously, and, as I +think, sincerely, "What you now tell me, Sir, mortifies and shocks me as +much as it can do yourself. I had no idea such a thing was possible. I +was much pained at what I saw; but I thought it an accident, and that it +would never happen again."--"It was a constant habit; it has happened a +hundred times since, and a thousand before. I lived on her caresses as +my daily food, nor can I live without them." So I told him the whole +story, "what conjurations, and what mighty magic I won his daughter +with," to be anything but MINE FOR LIFE. Nothing could well exceed +his astonishment and apparent mortification. "What I had said," he +owned, "had left a weight upon his mind that he should not easily get +rid of." I told him, "For myself, I never could recover the blow I had +received. I thought, however, for her own sake, she ought to alter her +present behaviour. Her marked neglect and dislike, so far from +justifying, left her former intimacies without excuse; for nothing could +reconcile them to propriety, or even a pretence to common decency, but +either love, or friendship so strong and pure that it could put on the +guise of love. She was certainly a singular girl. Did she think it +right and becoming to be free with strangers, and strange to old +friends?" I frankly declared, "I did not see how it was in human nature +for any one who was not rendered callous to such familiarities by +bestowing them indiscriminately on every one, to grant the extreme and +continued indulgences she had done to me, without either liking the man +at first, or coming to like him in the end, in spite of herself. When +my addresses had nothing, and could have nothing honourable in them, she +gave them every encouragement; when I wished to make them honourable, +she treated them with the utmost contempt. The terms we had been all +along on were such as if she had been to be my bride next day. It was +only when I wished her actually to become so, to ensure her own +character and my happiness, that she shrunk back with precipitation and +panic-fear. There seemed to me something wrong in all this; a want both +of common propriety, and I might say, of natural feeling; yet, with all +her faults, I loved her, and ever should, beyond any other human being. +I had drank in the poison of her sweetness too long ever to be cured of +it; and though I might find it to be poison in the end, it was still in +my veins. My only ambition was to be permitted to live with her, and to +die in her arms. Be she what she would, treat me how she would, I felt +that my soul was wedded to hers; and were she a mere lost creature, I +would try to snatch her from perdition, and marry her to-morrow if she +would have me. That was the question--"Would she have me, or would she +not?" He said he could not tell; but should not attempt to put any +constraint upon her inclinations, one way or other. I acquiesced, and +added, that "I had brought all this upon myself, by acting contrary to +the suggestions of my friend, Mr. -----, who had desired me to take no +notice whether she came near me or kept away, whether she smiled or +frowned, was kind or contemptuous--all you have to do, is to wait +patiently for a month till you are your own man, as you will be in all +probability; then make her an offer of your hand, and if she refuses, +there's an end of the matter." Mr. L. said, "Well, Sir, and I don't +think you can follow a better advice!" I took this as at least a sort +of negative encouragement, and so we parted. + + + +TO THE SAME + + + + + +(In continuation) + + +My dear Friend, The next day I felt almost as sailors must do after a +violent storm over-night, that has subsided towards daybreak. The +morning was a dull and stupid calm, and I found she was unwell, in +consequence of what had happened. In the evening I grew more uneasy, +and determined on going into the country for a week or two. I gathered +up the fragments of the locket of her hair, and the little bronze +statue, which were strewed about the floor, kissed them, folded them up +in a sheet of paper, and sent them to her, with these lines written in +pencil on the outside--"Pieces of a broken heart, to be kept in +remembrance of the unhappy. Farewell." No notice was taken; nor did I +expect any. The following morning I requested Betsey to pack up my box +for me, as I should go out of town the next day, and at the same time +wrote a note to her sister to say, I should take it as a favour if she +would please to accept of the enclosed copies of the Vicar of +Wakefield, The Man of Feeling and Nature and Art, in lieu of three +volumes of my own writings, which I had given her on different +occasions, in the course of our acquaintance. I was piqued, in fact, +that she should have these to shew as proofs of my weakness, and as if I +thought the way to win her was by plaguing her with my own performances. + +She sent me word back that the books I had sent were of no use to her, +and that I should have those I wished for in the afternoon; but that she +could not before, as she had lent them to her sister, Mrs. M-----. I +said, "very well;" but observed (laughing) to Betsey, "It's a bad rule +to give and take; so, if Sarah won't have these books, you must; they +are very pretty ones, I assure you." She curtsied and took them, +according to the family custom. In the afternoon, when I came back to +tea, I found the little girl on her knees, busy in packing up my things, +and a large paper parcel on the table, which I could not at first tell +what to make of. On opening it, however, I soon found what it was. It +contained a number of volumes which I had given her at different times +(among others, a little Prayer-Book, bound in crimson velvet, with green +silk linings; she kissed it twenty times when she received it, and said +it was the prettiest present in the world, and that she would shew it to +her aunt, who would be proud of it)--and all these she had returned +together. Her name in the title-page was cut out of them all. I +doubted at the instant whether she had done this before or after I had +sent for them back, and I have doubted of it since; but there is no +occasion to suppose her UGLY ALL OVER WITH HYPOCRISY. Poor little +thing! She has enough to answer for, as it is. I asked Betsey if she +could carry a message for me, and she said "YES." "Will you tell your +sister, then, that I did not want all these books; and give my love to +her, and say that I shall be obliged if she will still keep these that I +have sent back, and tell her that it is only those of my own writing +that I think unworthy of her." What do you think the little imp made +answer? She raised herself on the other side of the table where she +stood, as if inspired by the genius of the place, and said--"AND THOSE +ARE THE ONES THAT SHE PRIZES THE MOST!" If there were ever words spoken +that could revive the dead, those were the words. Let me kiss them, and +forget that my ears have heard aught else! I said, "Are you sure of +that?" and she said, "Yes, quite sure." I told her, "If I could be, I +should be very different from what I was." And I became so that +instant, for these casual words carried assurance to my heart of her +esteem--that once implied, I had proofs enough of her fondness. Oh! how +I felt at that moment! Restored to love, hope, and joy, by a breath +which I had caught by the merest accident, and which I might have pined +in absence and mute despair for want of hearing! I did not know how to +contain myself; I was childish, wanton, drunk with pleasure. I gave +Betsey a twenty-shilling note which I happened to have in my hand, and +on her asking "What's this for, Sir?" I said, "It's for you. Don't you +think it worth that to be made happy? You once made me very wretched by +some words I heard you drop, and now you have made me as happy; and all +I wish you is, when you grow up, that you may find some one to love you +as well as I do your sister, and that you may love better than she does +me!" I continued in this state of delirium or dotage all that day and +the next, talked incessantly, laughed at every thing, and was so +extravagant, nobody could tell what was the matter with me. I murmured +her name; I blest her; I folded her to my heart in delicious fondness; I +called her by my own name; I worshipped her: I was mad for her. I told +P---- I should laugh in her face, if ever she pretended not to like me +again. Her mother came in and said, she hoped I should excuse Sarah's +coming up. "Oh, Ma'am," I said, "I have no wish to see her; I feel her +at my heart; she does not hate me after all, and I wish for nothing. +Let her come when she will, she is to me welcomer than light, than life; +but let it be in her own sweet time, and at her own dear pleasure." +Betsey also told me she was "so glad to get the books back." I, +however, sobered and wavered (by degrees) from seeing nothing of her, +day after day; and in less than a week I was devoted to the Infernal +Gods. I could hold out no longer than the Monday evening following. I +sent a message to her; she returned an ambiguous answer; but she came +up. Pity me, my friend, for the shame of this recital. Pity me for the +pain of having ever had to make it! If the spirits of mortal creatures, +purified by faith and hope, can (according to the highest assurances) +ever, during thousands of years of smooth-rolling eternity and balmy, +sainted repose, forget the pain, the toil, the anguish, the +helplessness, and the despair they have suffered here, in this frail +being, then may I forget that withering hour, and her, that fair, pale +form that entered, my inhuman betrayer, and my only earthly love! She +said, "Did you wish to speak to me, Sir?" I said, "Yes, may I not speak +to you? I wanted to see you and be friends." I rose up, offered her an +arm-chair which stood facing, bowed on it, and knelt to her adoring. +She said (going) "If that's all, I have nothing to say." I replied, +"Why do you treat me thus? What have I done to become thus hateful to +you?" ANSWER, "I always told you I had no affection for you." You +may suppose this was a blow, after the imaginary honey-moon in which I +had passed the preceding week. I was stunned by it; my heart sunk +within me. I contrived to say, "Nay, my dear girl, not always neither; +for did you not once (if I might presume to look back to those happy, +happy times), when you were sitting on my knee as usual, embracing and +embraced, and I asked if you could not love me at last, did you not make +answer, in the softest tones that ever man heard, 'I COULD EASILY SAY +SO, WHETHER I DID OR NOT; YOU SHOULD JUDGE BY MY ACTIONS!' Was I to +blame in taking you at your word, when every hope I had depended on your +sincerity? And did you not say since I came back, 'YOUR FEELINGS TO ME +WERE THE SAME AS EVER?' Why then is your behaviour so different?" S. +"Is it nothing, your exposing me to the whole house in the way you did +the other evening?" H. "Nay, that was the consequence of your cruel +reception of me, not the cause of it. I had better have gone away last +year, as I proposed to do, unless you would give some pledge of your +fidelity; but it was your own offer that I should remain. 'Why should I +go?' you said, 'Why could we not go on the same as we had done, and say +nothing about the word FOREVER?'" S. "And how did you behave when +you returned?" H. "That was all forgiven when we last parted, and your +last words were, 'I should find you the same as ever' when I came home? +Did you not that very day enchant and madden me over again by the purest +kisses and embraces, and did I not go from you (as I said) adoring, +confiding, with every assurance of mutual esteem and friendship?" S. +"Yes, and in your absence I found that you had told my aunt what had +passed between us." H. "It was to induce her to extort your real +sentiments from you, that you might no longer make a secret of your true +regard for me, which your actions (but not your words) confessed." S. +"I own I have been guilty of improprieties, which you have gone and +repeated, not only in the house, but out of it; so that it has come to +my ears from various quarters, as if I was a light character. And I am +determined in future to be guided by the advice of my relations, and +particularly of my aunt, whom I consider as my best friend, and keep +every lodger at a proper distance." You will find hereafter that her +favourite lodger, whom she visits daily, had left the house; so that she +might easily make and keep this vow of extraordinary self-denial. +Precious little dissembler! Yet her aunt, her best friend, says, "No, +Sir, no; Sarah's no hypocrite!" which I was fool enough to believe; and +yet my great and unpardonable offence is to have entertained passing +doubts on this delicate point. I said, Whatever errors I had committed, +arose from my anxiety to have everything explained to her honour: my +conduct shewed that I had that at heart, and that I built on the purity +of her character as on a rock. My esteem for her amounted to adoration. + "She did not want adoration." It was only when any thing happened to +imply that I had been mistaken, that I committed any extravagance, +because I could not bear to think her short of perfection. "She was far +from perfection," she replied, with an air and manner (oh, my God!) as +near it as possible. "How could she accuse me of a want of regard to +her? It was but the other day, Sarah," I said to her, "when that little +circumstance of the books happened, and I fancied the expressions your +sister dropped proved the sincerity of all your kindness to me--you +don't know how my heart melted within me at the thought, that after all, +I might be dear to you. New hopes sprung up in my heart, and I felt as +Adam must have done when his Eve was created for him!" "She had heard +enough of that sort of conversation," (moving towards the door). This, +I own, was the unkindest cut of all. I had, in that case, no hopes +whatever. I felt that I had expended words in vain, and that the +conversation below stairs (which I told you of when I saw you) had +spoiled her taste for mine. If the allusion had been classical I should +have been to blame; but it was scriptural, it was a sort of religious +courtship, and Miss L. is religious! + + +At once he took his Muse and dipt her Right in the middle of the +Scripture. + + +It would not do--the lady could make neither head nor tail of it. This +is a poor attempt at levity. Alas! I am sad enough. "Would she go and +leave me so? If it was only my own behaviour, I still did not doubt of +success. I knew the sincerity of my love, and she would be convinced of +it in time. If that was all, I did not care: but tell me true, is there +not a new attachment that is the real cause of your estrangement? Tell +me, my sweet friend, and before you tell me, give me your hand (nay, +both hands) that I may have something to support me under the dreadful +conviction." She let me take her hands in mine, saying, "She supposed +there could be no objection to that,"--as if she acted on the +suggestions of others, instead of following her own will--but still +avoided giving me any answer. I conjured her to tell me the worst, and +kill me on the spot. Any thing was better than my present state. I +said, "Is it Mr. C-----?" She smiled, and said with gay indifference, +"Mr. C----- was here a very short time." "Well, then, was it Mr. +-----?" She hesitated, and then replied faintly, "No." This was a mere +trick to mislead; one of the profoundnesses of Satan, in which she is an +adept. "But," she added hastily, "she could make no more confidences." +"Then," said I, "you have something to communicate." "No; but she had +once mentioned a thing of the sort, which I had hinted to her mother, +though it signified little." All this while I was in tortures. Every +word, every half-denial, stabbed me. "Had she any tie?" "No, I have no +tie!" "You are not going to be married soon?" "I don't intend ever to +marry at all!" "Can't you be friends with me as of old?" "She could +give no promises." "Would she make her own terms?" "She would make +none."--"I was sadly afraid the LITTLE IMAGE was dethroned from her +heart, as I had dashed it to the ground the other night."--"She was +neither desperate nor violent." I did not answer--"But deliberate and +deadly,"--though I might; and so she vanished in this running fight of +question and answer, in spite of my vain efforts to detain her. The +cockatrice, I said, mocks me: so she has always done. The thought was a +dagger to me. My head reeled, my heart recoiled within me. I was stung +with scorpions; my flesh crawled; I was choked with rage; her scorn +scorched me like flames; her air (her heavenly air) withdrawn from me, +stifled me, and left me gasping for breath and being. It was a fable. +She started up in her own likeness, a serpent in place of a woman. She +had fascinated, she had stung me, and had returned to her proper shape, +gliding from me after inflicting the mortal wound, and instilling deadly +poison into every pore; but her form lost none of its original +brightness by the change of character, but was all glittering, +beauteous, voluptuous grace. Seed of the serpent or of the woman, she +was divine! I felt that she was a witch, and had bewitched me. Fate +had enclosed me round about. _I_ was transformed too, no longer human +(any more than she, to whom I had knit myself) my feelings were marble; +my blood was of molten lead; my thoughts on fire. I was taken out of +myself, wrapt into another sphere, far from the light of day, of hope, +of love. I had no natural affection left; she had slain me, but no +other thing had power over me. Her arms embraced another; but her +mock-embrace, the phantom of her love, still bound me, and I had not a +wish to escape. So I felt then, and so perhaps shall feel till I grow +old and die, nor have any desire that my years should last longer than +they are linked in the chain of those amorous folds, or than her +enchantments steep my soul in oblivion of all other things! I started +to find myself alone--for ever alone, without a creature to love me. I +looked round the room for help; I saw the tables, the chairs, the places +where she stood or sat, empty, deserted, dead. I could not stay where I +was; I had no one to go to but to the parent-mischief, the preternatural +hag, that had "drugged this posset" of her daughter's charms and +falsehood for me, and I went down and (such was my weakness and +helplessness) sat with her for an hour, and talked with her of her +daughter, and the sweet days we had passed together, and said I thought +her a good girl, and believed that if there was no rival, she still had +a regard for me at the bottom of her heart; and how I liked her all the +better for her coy, maiden airs: and I received the assurance over and +over that there was no one else; and that Sarah (they all knew) never +staid five minutes with any other lodger, while with me she would stay +by the hour together, in spite of all her father could say to her (what +were her motives, was best known to herself!) and while we were talking +of her, she came bounding into the room, smiling with smothered delight +at the consummation of my folly and her own art; and I asked her mother +whether she thought she looked as if she hated me, and I took her +wrinkled, withered, cadaverous, clammy hand at parting, and kissed it. +Faugh!-- + +I will make an end of this story; there is something in it discordant to +honest ears. I left the house the next day, and returned to Scotland in +a state so near to phrenzy, that I take it the shades sometimes ran into +one another. R---- met me the day after I arrived, and will tell you +the way I was in. I was like a person in a high fever; only mine was in +the mind instead of the body. It had the same irritating, uncomfortable +effect on the bye-standers. I was incapable of any application, and +don't know what I should have done, had it not been for the kindness of +-----. I came to see you, to "bestow some of my tediousness upon you," +but you were gone from home. Everything went on well as to the law +business; and as it approached to a conclusion, I wrote to my good +friend P---- to go to M----, who had married her sister, and ask him if +it would be worth my while to make her a formal offer, as soon as I was +free, as, with the least encouragement, I was ready to throw myself at +her feet; and to know, in case of refusal, whether I might go back there +and be treated as an old friend. Not a word of answer could be got from +her on either point, notwithstanding every importunity and intreaty; but +it was the opinion of M---- that I might go and try my fortune. I did +so with joy, with something like confidence. I thought her giving no +positive answer implied a chance, at least, of the reversion of her +favour, in case I behaved well. All was false, hollow, insidious. The +first night after I got home, I slept on down. In Scotland, the flint +had been my pillow. But now I slept under the same roof with her. What +softness, what balmy repose in the very thought! I saw her that same +day and shook hands with her, and told her how glad I was to see her; +and she was kind and comfortable, though still cold and distant. Her +manner was altered from what it was the last time. She still absented +herself from the room, but was mild and affable when she did come. She +was pale, dejected, evidently uneasy about something, and had been ill. +I thought it was perhaps her reluctance to yield to my wishes, her pity +for what I suffered; and that in the struggle between both, she did not +know what to do. How I worshipped her at these moments! We had a long +interview the third day, and I thought all was doing well. I found her +sitting at work in the window-seat of the front parlour; and on my +asking if I might come in, she made no objection. I sat down by her; +she let me take her hand; I talked to her of indifferent things, and of +old times. I asked her if she would put some new frills on my +shirts?---"With the greatest pleasure." If she could get THE LITTLE +IMAGE mended? "It was broken in three pieces, and the sword was gone, +but she would try." I then asked her to make up a plaid silk which I +had given her in the winter, and which she said would make a pretty +summer gown. I so longed to see her in it!--"She had little time to +spare, but perhaps might!" Think what I felt, talking peaceably, +kindly, tenderly with my love,--not passionately, not violently. I +tried to take pattern by her patient meekness, as I thought it, and to +subdue my desires to her will. I then sued to her, but respectfully, to +be admitted to her friendship--she must know I was as true a friend as +ever woman had--or if there was a bar to our intimacy from a dearer +attachment, to let me know it frankly, as I shewed her all my heart. +She drew out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes "of tears which sacred +pity had engendered there." Was it so or not? I cannot tell. But so +she stood (while I pleaded my cause to her with all the earnestness, and +fondness in the world) with the tears trickling from her eye-lashes, her +head stooping, her attitude fixed, with the finest expression that ever +was seen of mixed regret, pity, and stubborn resolution; but without +speaking a word, without altering a feature. It was like a petrifaction +of a human face in the softest moment of passion. "Ah!" I said, "how +you look! I have prayed again and again while I was away from you, in +the agony of my spirit, that I might but live to see you look so again, +and then breathe my last!" I intreated her to give me some explanation. + In vain! At length she said she must go, and disappeared like a +spirit. That week she did all the little trifling favours I had asked +of her. The frills were put on, and she sent up to know if I wanted any +more done. She got the Buonaparte mended. This was like healing old +wounds indeed! How? As follows, for thereby hangs the conclusion of my +tale. Listen. + +I had sent a message one evening to speak to her about some special +affairs of the house, and received no answer. I waited an hour +expecting her, and then went out in great vexation at my disappointment. + I complained to her mother a day or two after, saying I thought it so +unlike Sarah's usual propriety of behaviour, that she must mean it as a +mark of disrespect. Mrs. L---- said, "La! Sir, you're always fancying +things. Why, she was dressing to go out, and she was only going to get +the little image you're both so fond of mended; and it's to be done this +evening. She has been to two or three places to see about it, before +she could get anyone to undertake it." My heart, my poor fond heart, +almost melted within me at this news. I answered, "Ah! Madam, that's +always the way with the dear creature. I am finding fault with her and +thinking the hardest things of her; and at that very time she's doing +something to shew the most delicate attention, and that she has no +greater satisfaction than in gratifying my wishes!" On this we had some +farther talk, and I took nearly the whole of the lodgings at a hundred +guineas a year, that (as I said) she might have a little leisure to sit +at her needle of an evening, or to read if she chose, or to walk out +when it was fine. She was not in good health, and it would do her good +to be less confined. I would be the drudge and she should no longer be +the slave. I asked nothing in return. To see her happy, to make her +so, was to be so myself.--This was agreed to. I went over to Blackheath +that evening, delighted as I could be after all I had suffered, and lay +the whole of the next morning on the heath under the open sky, dreaming +of my earthly Goddess. This was Sunday. That evening I returned, for I +could hardly bear to be for a moment out of the house where she was, and +the next morning she tapped at the door--it was opened--it was she--she +hesitated and then came forward: she had got the little image in her +hand, I took it, and blest her from my heart. She said "They had been +obliged to put some new pieces to it." I said "I didn't care how it was +done, so that I had it restored to me safe, and by her." I thanked her +and begged to shake hands with her. She did so, and as I held the only +hand in the world that I never wished to let go, I looked up in her +face, and said "Have pity on me, have pity on me, and save me if you +can!" Not a word of answer, but she looked full in my eyes, as much as +to say, "Well, I'll think of it; and if I can, I will save you!" We +talked about the expense of repairing the figure. "Was the man +waiting?"--"No, she had fetched it on Saturday evening." I said I'd +give her the money in the course of the day, and then shook hands with +her again in token of reconciliation; and she went waving out of the +room, but at the door turned round and looked full at me, as she did the +first time she beguiled me of my heart. This was the last.-- + +All that day I longed to go down stairs to ask her and her mother to set +out with me for Scotland on Wednesday, and on Saturday I would make her +my wife. Something withheld me. In the evening, however, I could not +rest without seeing her, and I said to her younger sister, "Betsey, if +Sarah will come up now, I'll pay her what she laid out for me the other +day."--"My sister's gone out, Sir," was the answer. What again! thought +I, That's somewhat sudden. I told P---- her sitting in the window-seat +of the front parlour boded me no good. It was not in her old character. + She did not use to know there were doors or windows in the house--and +now she goes out three times in a week. It is to meet some one, I'll +lay my life on't. "Where is she gone?"--"To my grandmother's, Sir." +"Where does your grandmother live now?"--"At Somers' Town." I +immediately set out to Somers' Town. I passed one or two streets, and +at last turned up King Street, thinking it most likely she would return +that way home. I passed a house in King Street where I had once lived, +and had not proceeded many paces, ruminating on chance and change and +old times, when I saw her coming towards me. I felt a strange pang at +the sight, but I thought her alone. Some people before me moved on, and +I saw another person with her. THE MURDER WAS OUT. It was a tall, +rather well-looking young man, but I did not at first recollect him. We +passed at the crossing of the street without speaking. Will you believe +it, after all that had past between us for two years, after what had +passed in the last half-year, after what had passed that very morning, +she went by me without even changing countenance, without expressing the +slightest emotion, without betraying either shame or pity or remorse or +any other feeling that any other human being but herself must have shewn +in the same situation. She had no time to prepare for acting a part, to +suppress her feelings--the truth is, she has not one natural feeling in +her bosom to suppress. I turned and looked--they also turned and looked +and as if by mutual consent, we both retrod our steps and passed again, +in the same way. I went home. I was stifled. I could not stay in the +house, walked into the street and met them coming towards home. As soon +as he had left her at the door (I fancy she had prevailed with him to +accompany her, dreading some violence) I returned, went up stairs, and +requested an interview. Tell her, I said, I'm in excellent temper and +good spirits, but I must see her! She came smiling, and I said, "Come +in, my dear girl, and sit down, and tell me all about it, how it is and +who it is."--" What," she said, "do you mean Mr. C----?" "Oh," said I, +"Then it is he! Ah! you rogue, I always suspected there was something +between you, but you know you denied it lustily: why did you not tell me +all about it at the time, instead of letting me suffer as I have done? +But, however, no reproaches. I only wish it may all end happily and +honourably for you, and I am satisfied. But," I said, "you know you +used to tell me, you despised looks."--"She didn't think Mr. C---- was +so particularly handsome." "No, but he's very well to pass, and a +well-grown youth into the bargain." Pshaw! let me put an end to the +fulsome detail. I found he had lived over the way, that he had been +lured thence, no doubt, almost a year before, that they had first spoken +in the street, and that he had never once hinted at marriage, and had +gone away, because (as he said) they were too much together, and that it +was better for her to meet him occasionally out of doors. "There could +be no harm in them walking together." "No, but you may go some where +afterwards."--" One must trust to one's principle for that." Consummate +hypocrite! * * * * * * I told her Mr. M----, who had married her +sister, did not wish to leave the house. I, who would have married her, +did not wish to leave it. I told her I hoped I should not live to see +her come to shame, after all my love of her; but put her on her guard as +well as I could, and said, after the lengths she had permitted herself +with me, I could not help being alarmed at the influence of one over +her, whom she could hardly herself suppose to have a tenth part of my +esteem for her!! She made no answer to this, but thanked me coldly for +my good advice, and rose to go. I begged her to sit a few minutes, that +I might try to recollect if there was anything else I wished to say to +her, perhaps for the last time; and then, not finding anything, I bade +her good night, and asked for a farewell kiss. Do you know she refused; +so little does she understand what is due to friendship, or love, or +honour! We parted friends, however, and I felt deep grief, but no +enmity against her. I thought C---- had pressed his suit after I went, +and had prevailed. There was no harm in that--a little fickleness or +so, a little over-pretension to unalterable attachment--but that was +all. She liked him better than me--it was my hard hap, but I must bear +it. I went out to roam the desert streets, when, turning a corner, whom +should I meet but her very lover? I went up to him and asked for a few +minutes' conversation on a subject that was highly interesting to me and +I believed not indifferent to him: and in the course of four hours' +talk, it came out that for three months previous to my quitting London +for Scotland, she had been playing the same game with him as with +me--that he breakfasted first, and enjoyed an hour of her society, and +then I took my turn, so that we never jostled; and this explained why, +when he came back sometimes and passed my door, as she was sitting in my +lap, she coloured violently, thinking if her lover looked in, what a +denouement there would be. He could not help again and again +expressing his astonishment at finding that our intimacy had continued +unimpaired up to so late a period after he came, and when they were on +the most intimate footing. She used to deny positively to him that +there was anything between us, just as she used to assure me with +impenetrable effrontery that "Mr. C---- was nothing to her, but merely a +lodger." All this while she kept up the farce of her romantic +attachment to her old lover, vowed that she never could alter in that +respect, let me go to Scotland on the solemn and repeated assurance that +there was no new flame, that there was no bar between us but this +shadowy love--I leave her on this understanding, she becomes more fond +or more intimate with her new lover; he quitting the house (whether +tired out or not, I can't say)--in revenge she ceases to write to me, +keeps me in wretched suspense, treats me like something loathsome to her +when I return to enquire the cause, denies it with scorn and impudence, +destroys me and shews no pity, no desire to soothe or shorten the pangs +she has occasioned by her wantonness and hypocrisy, and wishes to linger +the affair on to the last moment, going out to keep an appointment with +another while she pretends to be obliging me in the tenderest point +(which C---- himself said was too much). . . .What do you think of all +this? Shall I tell you my opinion? But I must try to do it in another +letter. + + + +TO THE SAME + + + + +(In conclusion) + + +I did not sleep a wink all that night; nor did I know till the next day +the full meaning of what had happened to me. With the morning's light, +conviction glared in upon me that I had not only lost her for ever--but +every feeling I had ever had towards her--respect, tenderness, pity--all +but my fatal passion, was gone. The whole was a mockery, a frightful +illusion. I had embraced the false Florimel instead of the true; or was +like the man in the Arabian Nights who had married a GOUL. How +different was the idea I once had of her? Was this she, + + +--"Who had been beguiled--she who was made +Within a gentle bosom to be laid-- +To bless and to be blessed--to be heart-bare +To one who found his bettered likeness there-- +To think for ever with him, like a bride-- +To haunt his eye, like taste personified-- +To double his delight, to share his sorrow, +And like a morning beam, wake to him every morrow? + + +I saw her pale, cold form glide silent by me, dead to shame as to pity. +Still I seemed to clasp this piece of witchcraft to my bosom; this +lifeless image, which was all that was left of my love, was the only +thing to which my sad heart clung. Were she dead, should I not wish to +gaze once more upon her pallid features? She is dead to me; but what +she once was to me, can never die! The agony, the conflict of hope and +fear, of adoration and jealousy is over; or it would, ere long, have +ended with my life. I am no more lifted now to Heaven, and then plunged +in the abyss; but I seem to have been thrown from the top of a +precipice, and to lie groveling, stunned, and stupefied. I am +melancholy, lonesome, and weaker than a child. The worst is, I have no +prospect of any alteration for the better: she has cut off all +possibility of a reconcilement at any future period. Were she even to +return to her former pretended fondness and endearments, I could have no +pleasure, no confidence in them. I can scarce make out the +contradiction to myself. I strive to think she always was what I now +know she is; but I have great difficulty in it, and can hardly believe +but she still IS what she so long SEEMED. Poor thing! I am afraid +she is little better off herself; nor do I see what is to become of her, +unless she throws off the mask at once, and RUNS A-MUCK at infamy. +She is exposed and laid bare to all those whose opinion she set a value +upon. Yet she held her head very high, and must feel (if she feels any +thing) proportionably mortified.--A more complete experiment on +character was never made. If I had not met her lover immediately after +I parted with her, it would have been nothing. I might have supposed +she had changed her mind in my absence, and had given him the preference +as soon as she felt it, and even shewn her delicacy in declining any +farther intimacy with me. But it comes out that she had gone on in the +most forward and familiar way with both at once--(she could not change +her mind in passing from one room to another)--told both the same +barefaced and unblushing falsehoods, like the commonest creature; +received presents from me to the very last, and wished to keep up the +game still longer, either to gratify her humour, her avarice, or her +vanity in playing with my passion, or to have me as a dernier resort, +in case of accidents. Again, it would have been nothing, if she had not +come up with her demure, well-composed, wheedling looks that morning, +and then met me in the evening in a situation, which (she believed) +might kill me on the spot, with no more feeling than a common courtesan +shews, who BILKS a customer, and passes him, leering up at her bully, +the moment after. If there had been the frailty of passion, it would +have been excusable; but it is evident she is a practised, callous jilt, +a regular lodging-house decoy, played off by her mother upon the +lodgers, one after another, applying them to her different purposes, +laughing at them in turns, and herself the probable dupe and victim of +some favourite gallant in the end. I know all this; but what do I gain +by it, unless I could find some one with her shape and air, to supply +the place of the lovely apparition? That a professed wanton should come +and sit on a man's knee, and put her arms round his neck, and caress +him, and seem fond of him, means nothing, proves nothing, no one +concludes anything from it; but that a pretty, reserved, modest, +delicate-looking girl should do this, from the first hour to the last of +your being in the house, without intending anything by it, is new, and, +I think, worth explaining. It was, I confess, out of my calculation, +and may be out of that of others. Her unmoved indifference and +self-possession all the while, shew that it is her constant practice. +Her look even, if closely examined, bears this interpretation. It is +that of studied hypocrisy or startled guilt, rather than of refined +sensibility or conscious innocence. "She defied anyone to read her +thoughts?" she once told me. "Do they then require concealing?" I +imprudently asked her. The command over herself is surprising. She +never once betrays herself by any momentary forgetfulness, by any +appearance of triumph or superiority to the person who is her dupe, by +any levity of manner in the plenitude of her success; it is one +faultless, undeviating, consistent, consummate piece of acting. Were +she a saint on earth, she could not seem more like one. Her +hypocritical high-flown pretensions, indeed, make her the worse: but +still the ascendancy of her will, her determined perseverance in what +she undertakes to do, has something admirable in it, approaching to the +heroic. She is certainly an extraordinary girl! Her retired manner, +and invariable propriety of behaviour made me think it next to +impossible she could grant the same favours indiscriminately to every +one that she did to me. Yet this now appears to be the fact. She must +have done the very same with C----, invited him into the house to carry +on a closer intrigue with her, and then commenced the double game with +both together. She always "despised looks." This was a favourite +phrase with her, and one of the hooks which she baited for me. Nothing +could win her but a man's behaviour and sentiments. Besides, she could +never like another--she was a martyr to disappointed affection--and +friendship was all she could even extend to any other man. All the +time, she was making signals, playing off her pretty person, and having +occasional interviews in the street with this very man, whom she could +only have taken so sudden and violent a liking to him from his looks, +his personal appearance, and what she probably conjectured of his +circumstances. Her sister had married a counsellor--the Miss F----'s, +who kept the house before, had done so too--and so would she. "There +was a precedent for it." Yet if she was so desperately enamoured of +this new acquaintance, if he had displaced THE LITTLE IMAGE from her +breast, if he was become her SECOND "unalterable attachment" (which I +would have given my life to have been) why continue the same +unwarrantable familiarities with me to the last, and promise that they +should be renewed on my return (if I had not unfortunately stumbled upon +the truth to her aunt) and yet keep up the same refined cant about her +old attachment all the time, as if it was that which stood in the way of +my pretensions, and not her faithlessness to it? "If one swerves from +one, one shall swerve from another"--was her excuse for not returning my +regard. Yet that which I thought a prophecy, was I suspect a history. +She had swerved twice from her avowed engagements, first to me, and then +from me to another. If she made a fool of me, what did she make of her +lover? I fancy he has put that question to himself. I said nothing to +him about the amount of the presents; which is another damning +circumstance, that might have opened my eyes long before; but they were +shut by my fond affection, which "turned all to favour and to +prettiness." She cannot be supposed to have kept up an appearance of +old regard to me, from a fear of hurting my feelings by her desertion; +for she not only shewed herself indifferent to, but evidently triumphed +in my sufferings, and heaped every kind of insult and indignity upon +them. I must have incurred her contempt and resentment by my mistaken +delicacy at different times; and her manner, when I have hinted at +becoming a reformed man in this respect, convinces me of it. "She hated +it!" She always hated whatever she liked most. She "hated Mr. C----'s +red slippers," when he first came! One more count finishes the +indictment. She not only discovered the most hardened indifference to +the feelings of others; she has not shewn the least regard to her own +character, or shame when she was detected. When found out, she seemed +to say, "Well, what if I am? I have played the game as long as I could; +and if I could keep it up no longer, it was not for want of good will!" +Her colouring once or twice is the only sign of grace she has exhibited. + Such is the creature on whom I had thrown away my heart and soul-one +who was incapable of feeling the commonest emotions of human nature, as +they regarded herself or any one else. "She had no feelings with +respect to herself," she often said. She in fact knows what she is, and +recoils from the good opinion or sympathy of others, which she feels to +be founded on a deception; so that my overweening opinion of her must +have appeared like irony, or direct insult. My seeing her in the street +has gone a good way to satisfy me. Her manner there explains her manner +in-doors to be conscious and overdone; and besides, she looks but +indifferently. She is diminutive in stature, and her measured step and +timid air do not suit these public airings. I am afraid she will soon +grow common to my imagination, as well as worthless in herself. Her +image seems fast "going into the wastes of time," like a weed that the +wave bears farther and farther from me. Alas! thou poor hapless weed, +when I entirely lose sight of thee, and for ever, no flower will ever +bloom on earth to glad my heart again! + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Liber Amoris or The New Pygmalion + diff --git a/old/nwpyg10.zip b/old/nwpyg10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8e0410 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/nwpyg10.zip |