'V i - *j >C*x 1*'-V\ DESMOND. VOL. 1. DESMOND. N O E L, IN TWO VOLUMES. B Y CHARLOTTE SMITH. VOLUME I. DUBLIN: PRINTED FOR P. WOGAN, P. BYRNF, J. MOORE, W. M'kENZIE, H. COLBERT, A. GRUEBER, B. DORNIN, J. JONES, J. RICE, W. JONES, J. MEHAIN, G. DRAPER, R M'aLLISTER G. F0LINGS8Y. M.DCC.XCII. Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive in 2010 with funding from Duke University Libraries Iittp://www.arcliive.org/details/desmondnbvelintw01smit v./ PREFACE. I N fending Into the world a work fo unlike thofe ot n:iy former writings, which have been honored by its approbation, I feel fome degree of that apprehenfion which an Author is fenfible ot on a firfl. publication. This arifes partly from my doubts of fucceeding fo well in letters as in narra- tive ; and partly from a fuppofuion, that there are Readers, to whom the fiditious occurrences, and others to whom the po- litical remarks in thele volumes may be difpleafing. a 3 To> ii PREFACE.^ To the firft I beg leave to fuggefl, that in reprefenting a young man, nourifh- ing an ardent but concealed paflion for a married woman ; I certainly do not mean to encourage or juftify fuch at- tachments ; but no delineation of cha- radler appears to me more interefting, than that of a man capable of fuch a paflion fo generous and difinterefted as to feek only the good of its objedl ; nor any ftory more moral, than one that reprefents the exiflence of an a£Fed;ion fo regulated. As to the political paflages difperfed through the work, they are for the moft part, drawn from converfations to which I have been a witnefs, in England and France, during the laft twelve months* In carrying on my ftory in thofe coun- tries, and at a period when their political fituation (but particularly that of the lat- ter) is the general topic of difcourfe in both J I have given to my imaginary cha- jra(flers the arguments I have heard on both fides i and if thofe in favor of one party have evidently the advantage, it is not owing to my partial reprcfentation, bat to the predominant power of truth and ^ P R E F A C E. iii and reafon, which can neither be altered nor concealed'. But women it is faid have no bufinefs with politics — Why not ? — Have they no intereft in the fcenes that are ading around them, in which they have fathers, brothers, hufbands, Tons, or friends en- gaged ? — Even in the commonefl: courfe of female education, they are expe£led to acquire fome knowledge of hiftory ; and yet, if they arc to have no opinion of what is paflmg, it avails little that they fhould be informed of what has pajftd, in a world where they are fubje(5l to fuch mental degradation ; where they are cen- fured as affecting mafculine knowledge if they happen to have any underflanding ; or defpifed as infignificant triflers if they have none. Knowledge, which qualifies women to fpeak or to write on any other than the mofl common and trivial fubjefls, is fuppofed to be of fo difficult attainment, that it cannot be acquired but by the fa- crifice of domeftic virtues, or the negle(5t of doaieftic duties. — — / however n\\j fafely fay, that it was in the obfervance, not in the breach of duty, / became an Author i iv PREFACE. Author ; and it has happened, that the circumftances which have compelled me to write, have introduced me to thofe fcenes of life, and thofe varieties ol" cha- rader which I fhould otherwife never have feen : Tho' alas! it is from thence, that I am too well enabled to defcribc from immediate obfervation, " The proud man's contumely, th' oppreflbrs- vrong ; The laws delay, the infolence of office." Bur, while in confequence of the af- fairs of my family, being moft unhap- pily in the power of men who feem to exercife all thefe with impunity , I am be- come an Author by proft'Jfwfi, and feel every year more acutely, " thai hope delayed maketh the heart Jick'^ I am fenfible alfo (to ufe another quotation) that -'* Adverfity — Tho' iike a toad ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in its head." For it is to my involuntary appearance in that charader, that I am indebted, for all that makes my continuance in the' world PREFACE. w world defirablc ; all that foftens the rigor of my dcftiny and enables me to fuftain it : I mean friends among thofe, who, while their talents are the boaft of their country, are yet more refpedable for the goodnefs and integrity of their hearts. Among thefe I include a female friend, to whom I owe the beautiful little Ode in the laft volume-, who having written it for this work, allows me thus publicly to boafl of a friendfhip, which is the pride and plcafure of my life. If I may be indulged a moment longer in my egotifm, it fhall be only while I apologize for the typographical errors of the work, which may have been in fome meafure occafioned by the detached and hurried way, in which the (heets were fometimcs fent to the prefs when I was at a diftance from it ; and when my atten- tion was din:ra(5ted by the troubles, which it feems to be the peculiar delight of the perfons who are concerned in the management of my children's affairs, to inflid upon me. With all this the Public have nothing to do : but were it proper Ti PREFACE. proper to relate all the difadvantages from anxiety of mind and local circum- flances, under which tbefc volumes have been compofed, fuch a detail might be admitted as an excufe for more material errors. For that afperity of remark, which will arife on the part of thofe whofe political tenets I may offend, I am pre- pared ; thofe who objed to the matter, will probably arraign the manner, and exclaim againft the impropriety of making a book of entertainment the vehicle of political difcuffion. I am how- ever confcious that in making thefe flight /ketches, of manners and opinions, as they fluduated around me ; I have not facrificed truth to any party — Nothing appears to me more refpettable than national pride ; nothing fo abfurd as national prejudice — And in the faithful reprefenration of the manners of other countries, fureiy Engliflimen may find abundant reafon to indulge the one, while they conquer the other. To thofe ho\yever who (till cherifli the idea of our having a natural enemy in the French nation ; and that they are ftill more na- turally our foes, becaufe they have dared to. PREFACE. vu to be freemen, I can only fay, that again ft the phalanx of prejudice kept in conftant pay, and under (tri<5t difcipline by intereft, the flight Ikirmifliing of a novel writer can have no effedt : we fee it remains hitherto unbroken againft the powerful efforts of learning and genius — though united in that caufe which mujl finally triumph — the caufe of truth, reafon, and humanity. CHARLOTTE SMITH. London> June 20, 1792. DESMOND. LETTER I. TO MR. BETHEL. June 9, 1790. YOUR arguments, my friend, were decifive; and fince I am now on my way— I hardly know whither, you will be convinced that I attended to them; and have determined to relinquifh the dangerous indulgence, of contemplating the perfections of anobjedt, that can never be mine. Yes ! — I have torn tnyfelf from her ; and, with- out betraying any part of the anguifli and regret 1 felt, I calmly took my leave ! — It was five days Ego, the morning after fhe had undergone the fatiguing ceremony of appearing, for the firft time fince her marriage, at court on the birth- night. — I had heard how univerfally fhe had been ad- mired, but {he feemed to have received no plea- fure from that admiriition— and I felt involun- tarily pleafed that (he had not. — Her hufband — I hate the name — Verney ; had already efcaped. from the confinement, which this ceremony of their appearances had for a day or two impofed upon him : and was gone to I know not what races ; Ihc named the place faintly and reluc- tantly when I afked after him ; and I did not repeat thequeftion ; there was however another queftion which I could not help alking myfelf ; Vol. I. B docs 2 DESMOND. does this man deferve the lovely Geraldine ? — • Alas! — I know he does not ; cannot: the fport o( every wild propenfity or rather of every pre- vailing fafhion, (for it is to thit he facrifices ra- ther than to his own inclinations) I have too much reafon to bt;lieve he will diiTipate his for- tune, and render his wife miferable. — But is it poiTible flie can love him? — Oh, no ! — it is furely not pofljble — when through the mild grace and fometimes tendernefs of her manner, 1 remark the flrcngth and clearnefs of her underftanding ; when- I obferve, how immediately fhc fees the ridiculous, and how quickly her ingenuous and liberal mind itrinks from vice and folly -I be- lieve it impoffible that the hour can be far dif- tant, if indeed it is not already arrived ; when the flowers, with which the mercenary hands of her family^ drefTed the chains they impofed upon her, will be totally faded ; and when, what ever affedlion fhe now feels for him, if any does exift, will be dtftroyed by the conviction of Verney's unworthinefs — Ah ! where will then an heart, like hers, find refuge againft the hor- rors of fuch a dtdiny — would to heaven I had become acquainted with her before that defliny was irrevocable — or that i had never known her at all. When I was admitted to her drefling-rooin the lall time 1 faw her — -fhe was reading; and , laid down her book on my entrance — I was ill, or had appeared fo to her; when 1 had i'ttn her a few days before — flie fcemed now to recolle<5l it with tmder interefl: — and when, in anfwering her enquiries, I told her I intended going abro^id for fome months > I fhculd have thought — had I dared to indulge the flattery of fancy — that fhe heard it v;ith. concern, " we ihall not tbeo fee you DESMOND. 3 you this year in Kent," faid fhe, " I am very forry for it,"—- fhe piufcd a moment, and addedj with one of thofe fmiles which give fuch pecu- liar charms to her countenance, " but I hope you will regain your health and fpirits — and I think we (hall certainly have you among us again in the (hooting feafon." — I know not what was the matter with me, but 1 could not anfwer her^ and the converfation for fome moments dropped. She refumed it after another fliort filence, and afked me when I had feen her brother? — He talks, " faid (he," of going to the Continent alfo this fummer, and I wifh you may meet him there — your acquaintance could not fail of be- ing advantageous in any country, but particu- larly a foreign country, to a young man fo new to the world as he is ; and one, fo unfettled ia all his plans, from temper and habit, that I am ever in pain left he (hould fall into thofe errors, which I every day fee fo fatal to thofe who enter into the world unexperienced like him — without a guide. — Should you happen to meet with him abroad, I am fure you have friendlhip enough for us all, to diredt him," — 1 feized v/ith avidity an opportunity of being ferviceable to any one who belongs to her — I had not feci\ Wavcrly for fome time, and imagined he was gone back to Oxford ; but I aiTured her, that if Mr. Waverly could make it convenient to go when I d^d to Paris, 1 fhould be extremely glad to be ufcful to him, and happy in his com- pany. Pleafed with the earneft manner in which I fpoke, ihe became more un-referved on this fub- jedt. " You know a little of my brother," faid fhe, ** but it is impoffible, on (b flight an ac- quaintance, to be aware of the peculiarities of his B 2 temper ^ DESMOND. temper — peculiarities that give me fo many fears on his account. It is not his youth, or the ex- penfive ftyle in which he lets out, that difquieC me fo much as that uncommon indecifion of mind, which never allows him to know what he will do a moment before he a6ls ; and fome how or other he always continue^, after long debates and repeated changes, to adopt the very worft fcheme of thofe he has examined. I may fay to you that this defedt originated in the extreme indulgence of his parents-.— a very confiderable part of my father's eftate would have gone into another branch of the family, had he not had a fon — and it happened his fix eldeft children were daughters, fo that when this long- wifhed- for and only fon was born, he became of more confequence to my father and mother than the reft of their family: and we, his th/ee fifJers, who furvived, have through our lives hitherto uniformly feen our intereft yield to his. — But, believe me, we (hould never have murmured, (at leaft 1 can aniwtr for myl'elf) — at whatever facrificcs have been made, had they contributed to render him really and permanently happier, but the continual enquiries that were made of ■what he would do, and what he would like, while nothin T was ever offered to him but variety of gratification, have, I think, coincided with his natural temper to produce that coniinual inabi- lity, to puriue any fiudy or even any plealure fleadily. — My father's death, and his being of a^e, have rendered him mafter of himfelf and his fo) tune ; but he cannot refolve what to do with either of them, and my apprehenfions are, that he will fall into the hands of thofe who will de- termine for him, anddifpnfe of both, rather for their own advantage than for his. I have there- fore DESMOND. 5 fore encouraged, as much as poilible, hishalf- formed'inclination to go abroad — but he tallcs fo vaguely about it, and varies (o much in his projedts, that I doubt whether he will ever exe- cute any of them. — If you really would allow him to accompany you — yet I know not hov/ to alTcit, yourfociety would perhaps determine him to the journey, and prevent his meeting any of. thofe inconveniencies to which young travellers are expofed." I believe my lovely friend mi (look the expref» fion which my eager acquiefcence threw into my. countenance, for what might be produced by the embarraflmentj of wilhing to efcape with civi* lity from an unwelcome propofal — for (he hcfi- tated — yet, without giving me time to reply, fald, " but perhaps I am taking a very improper liberty with you — I ought to have recollected, that in this expedition you have probably a party, to which any addition maybe unwelcome; and that you have fo flight an acquaintance with my brother" — " v^ I interrupted her. — '* It is enough for me, that he is your brother — that alone would make me wifh to render him every fervice in my power — even if I had never feen him." — 1 had faid more than I ought; more than I intended to fay. — 1 felt inftantly conicious of it, and I now con- fufedly hurried intoprofeffionsof perfonal regard for Waverly, far enough from being fmcere; and affurances, that, as 1 went for change of air and fcene, which my health and fpirits required, 1 fhould make no party, iinhfs it was with one friend, to whom my fociety might be ufeful — " and when that friend," adJed J, '* is your brother." — 1 was relapfing faft into the fully, of which, but a moment before, I repented. — i faw her dj D E S M O N B. h^r change coTour, and for the firft time fince the rile of this attachment — which v/ill end only with my life — I had faid, what to a vain woman might have betrayed it. Geraldinefeemed now felicitous to change the converfation, but this I would not do, till 1 had made her promife to write to her brother, as foon as (he could learn where he was; and men- tion to hi:Ti my intended journey, and my rea- dinefs to begin it with him immediately. 1 afiured her, that if I met Waverly before I left London, 1 would endeavour to fix his de- parture with me, and giving her my addrefs, that he might write to me at Margate, reludantly, and with pangs, fuch as are felt only when " foul and body part" — I bade her adieu ! She looked concerned, and gave me her lovely hand, which I dared not prefs to my lips — but, as trembling, I held it in mine, fhc wifhed me health and happinefs, a pleafant journey, and a profperous reiurn, in that foul-foothing voice which I always hear with undefcribable emo- tions. — More tremuloufly fweet than ufual, it flill vibrates in my ears, and 1 ftili repeat to myfelf her la(l words—" Farewell, Mr. DcC- mond, may all i'elicity attend you." Now, you will call this wrong, ridiculous, and romantic. — But fpare your remonitrances, dear Bethel, fince i obey you in elTcntials, and am going from England, rather becaufe you de- fire It, than bc'caufe I am convinced that fuch an afFe£tion as 1 feel ought to be eradicated. — Do you know againft how many vices, and how many follies, a paffion, fo pure and ardent as mine, fortifies the heart ? — Are you fure that tlie tviis you reprefent as attending it, are not purely imaginary, while the good is real ? — { expe6lj D t: S M O N D. 7 expe<51, however, a heavy le£ture for all this, and ii were better not to add another word on the fubjecl. Your's ever, with true regard, LIONEL DESMOND, I forgot to add,, that though my journey is certainly decided upon, becaufc I hope to find, in the prefent political tumult in France, what, may intcreft and divert my attention; yet, I will not fail to deliver to your relations the letter you endoled in your lafl and to avail myfelf of it as an introduflion to Mrs. Fairfax, and her family, as foon as I arrive at iMargate. —You imngine, that the charm^ of one or other of your fair coufins will have pov.'er enough to drive, from my heart, an inclination which you fo entirely difapprove — though I am too well convinced of the inefHcacy of the recipe, I try it you fee — in deference to your opinion — jiiftas a patient, who knows his difeafe to be incurable, fubmits to the prefcription of a phyfician he efteems, — As foon as I have delivered my cre- dentials you ihall hwr from me again. L E T- O & E S M O N Dr LETTER II. TO MR. DESMOND, Hartfield, June ij, 1790- YES .' — you have really given an inftance of extreme prudence — and, in confequcnce of it, you will, I think, haveoccafion to exert another virtue, which is by no means the moft ennlnent among thofe you pofFefs ; the virtue of patience, ■ — So ! — you have really undertaken the delight- ful office of bear-leader — becaufe the brother of your Geraldine cannot take care of himfelf — and this you call fetting about your cure, while you continue to difpute, whether it be wife to be cured or no^ and, while you argue that a pailion for another man's wife may fave you from abundance of vice and folly, you flrengthen your argument to be fure won- derfully, by commitiing one of the greatcftads of folly in your power. — And as to vice, 1 hold it, my good friend, to be a great advance towards it, when you betray fyrnptoms (which no wo- man can fail to underhand) of this wild and romantic pafiion of yours, or, as you fenumen- tallytermit, this ardent and pure attachment — an attachment and an arrangement 1 ihmk are the terms now in ufe, I beg pardon if I do not always put them in the right place. But ierioufly — do you know what you have undertaken in thus engaging yourfclf with Wa- vcrly ? — and can you bear to be made uneafy by the caprices of a man who is of twenty minds in a momenr, without ever being in his right mind.— Ycur only chance of efcaping, as you have DESMOND. 9 have now managed the matter is, that he will never determine whether he fhall go with you or no. — Some fcampering party will be propofed to a cricket match in HampQiire, or a race in Yorkfhire ; one friend will invite him to a ball in the Weft of England, and another to fee a boxing match in the neighbourhood of London : and while he is debating whether he fliall make any of thefe engagements, or which, or go to France with you, you wiil have a very fair op- portunity of leaving him — unlefs (which from the ftyle of your laft letter I do not expc£l) you fhould yourfelf change your refolution on the beft grounds; and find your romantic and your patriotic motive for a journey to France, con- quered at once by the more powerful enchant- ments of one of my fair coufins. While, from your fortune being entrufted to my management by your grandfather till you were five-and- twenty, 1 confidered myfelf as your guardian, I forbore to recommend to either of thefe young women, becaufe they were my relations — But now as you are mafter alike of yourfelf and of your eftate, yet are ftill willing to attend (at leaft you fay you are) to the opinion of a friend who has lived fourteen years longer in the world than you have. 1 am defirous that you fhould become acquainted with them, and that you fhould judge fairly, fmce that muft lie to judge favourably, of women who are fo uni- verfally and juftly admired; who certainly are moft highly accompliftied : and have fortunes to ailift whoever they marry, in fuppoi ting them in that rank of life to which they will do fo mucii honour — this you call an extraordinary ftyle of advice, from a man who, in the noon of l.fe, has renounced that world, whofe attradions he B 5 lecom- •1© DESMOND. recommends to you ; but that, at hardly hine- and-thirty, I have no longer any reli(h for it, arifes, not from general mifanthropy, but from particular misfortune, and againft thofe calami- tics of domeftic life that have embittered my days, I vi'ifli to guard yours — by giving you fome of my dearly-bought experience. You have talent?, youth, health, perfon and fortune — a good heart and an ardent imagination — thefe, my dear Defmond, are advantages v^xy rarely united, and when they do meet, all the firft are too often loft by the fatal and irregular indulgence of the laft. This is what I fear for you — but my lecture muft: terminate with my paper — my good wifhes ever follow you ; let me bear from you foon — and believe me e\er Yours, E. BETHEL, L E i- D r 3- K' OK D. II LETTER IJI. TO MR. BETHEL. Margate, June 16, lygo. MY vifit to your friends is paid, and 1 mef fuch a reception as I might expe6l from your re- commendation — would I could tvll you, that it has anfwered all the friendly expeclation*:, or rather hopes, you formed of it : but you expe^ an ingenuous account of my ffntiments in re- g-ird to thefe ladies ; and you fhall hive them. Mrs, Fairfax has been certain'y a very fine woman, and even now has perfon-J advantages enough to authorife her retaining thofe prettn- fions, which it is eafy to fee fbe v/ould, with extreme reludtance, entirely refign,— It is hovi'- ever but jiiftice to add, tlia: her unwillingnefs to fade, does not influence her to keep back the period when it is fit her daughters fhould bloom ' — fhe rather runs into the contrary extreme; and with folicitudc, which her maternal affec- tion renders rather an amiable weaknefs, fiie is always buftling about, to ftiew them to the beft advant-^jjip -, and, as (he is perfectly convinced that they are the moft accomplifhed young wo- men of the age, fo fhe is very deiirous of im- prefling that conviction on all her acquaintance « — for the reft I believe fhe may b^ a very good woman ; and I have only to object to a little too much parade about it ; and th;.t flie talks rather too loud — and rather too lon^;. My firft introduiTtion to her was not at h?r own houfe, for entering one of the libraries about two o'clock on Thurfday noon, i ob- B 6 fervedy. 12 DESMOND. ferved, that the attention of the few people who fo early in the feafon affembled there, was en- grofled by a lady who was relating a very long ftory about herfelf, in a tone of voice, againft which, whatever had been the fubjecl, no de- gree of attention to any other could have been a defence. I was compelled therefore, inftead of reading the paper where I was anxious to fee French news, to join the audience who were hearing — how her leafe was out, of an houfe (he had in Harley-ftrcet, and all the converfation lield between herfelf, her landlord, and her at- torney about its renewal. But how at laft they could not agree ; an.i fo {lie had taken another in Manchefter Square, which {lie defcribed at full length " The Ducheff," continued (he, *' and lady Lindwes, and lady Sarah, were ali fo delighted when they found 1 had determined upon it — and lady Sufan affurcd me it would delay at leaft her winter's journey to Bath — Oh! my dear Mrs. Fairfax, faic lady Sufan, you have no notion now, how exceflively happy we {hall all be, to have you fo near us — and your fvveet girls ! — their fociety is a delightful acqui- fition Mifs Fairfax's finging is charming, and I fo doat upon Anaftatia's manner of read- ing poetry, that I hope we (hall fee a great deiil of both of them." — Though I at once knew that this was the lady to whom i VI as fortunate enough to have a letter of recommendation in my pocket, it was not eafy with all that mauvais konte with which you fo frequently accufe me, to find a favourable moment to make my buw and my fpeech, be- tween the end of one narrative and the beginning of another, with fuch amazing rapidity did they follow each other : and I fiiould have re- tired DESMOND. 13 tired without having been able to feizeany fuch lucky interval, if this inexhauftible ftream of eloquence had not been interrupted by the fud- den entrance of a young man who feemed to be one of Mrs. Fairfax's intimate acquaintance, and who faid he came to tell her, that a raffle, in which flie was engaged at another (hop, was full, and that her daughters had fent him to de- fire fhe would come. '* There is nobody now, madam, to throw," faid this gentleman, " but you and I ; and Mifs Anaftatia being the higheft number, thinks fhe {hall win the jars — but as for me, I cannot go back this morsiing, for I am engaged to ride" — " Oh, but I defire you will," replied Mrs. Fairfax, " it wont take you up a minute, and I will have it decided — for I hate fufpencc." — *' Yes, madam," faid another gentleman who had been among the lifteners, " you may hate it — but there is no- thing that VVaverly loves fo much, if one may judge by the difficulty he always makes about deciding upon every thing — and if the determi- nation of the raffle depends upon him, yoa will hardly know who the jars are to belong to this feafon." " I protefl:, Jack Lewis," cried Waverly, whom I now immediately knew, though his cropped hair and other fingulafities of drefs had at firft prevented my recolle£ling him — ** I proteft you do me injuftice — I am the (leadieil creature in life — and I would go now willingly — but upon my foul I'm paft my appointment." " And what fignifies your appointment r" replied the other. — " What fignifies whether you keep it or no?" — Why, that's true," an- fwered my futur- fellow-traveller, " to be fure it is of no great confequence, neither — ^o if you .defire 14 D E S M O N I>. defire it, I'll go with you, Ma'am, though really I hardly know." — He was beginning to hefitate again, but iMrs. Fairfax took him at his word^ and they went out together ; however, before they had reached the place where the pofTeflion of the China jars wa^ to be decided, I faw Wa- verly leave the lady, and go I fuppofe to keep the engagement, which he allowed a moment before was of no conlequence. As for myfelf, as foon as I recovered from the effecfts of the firft impieflion made by Mrs. Fairfax's oratory, which perhaps; the weaknefs or irritab lity of my nerves rendered more forcible than it ought to be, I colledled courage enough to follow her; atrd in a momentary paufe that fuccecded her lofing her raffle, which would now have been, finally fettled (he faid, had Waverly been pre- fent, I advanced and delivered your letter. She received it moft gracioufly ; and even re- tired from the groups (he was engaged in, to read it. I took that opportunity of addrefling mylelf to Mifs Fairfax, who is certainly a very pretty woman ; fhe feemed however cold and referved ; and, I thought, put on that fort of air whch fays — ♦' i don't kndw. Sir, whether you are in ilyle of life to claim my notice." — Thefe little doubts, however, which I readily forgave^ were immediately diffipated, when htr mother appeared with your letter in her hand — and faid, '* Margarette, my dear, this is Mr. Defmond — the friend and ward of Mr. Bethel, I am fure you will be as rejoiced as I am in this opportunity of being honoured with his acquain- tance." — ^1 faw inftantly, that the young lady re- colleded, in the friend and ward of Mr. Bethel, a man of large, independent foriune. The moft amiable exprciiion of complacency was immediately. DESMOND. 15 Immediately conveyed into her countenance ; and, as 1 attended her and lier mother home, I perceived that two or three gentlemen, who came with her alfo, and towards whom fhe had before been lavifh of hei finiles, were now al- moft negledted, while Iht; w as io good as to at- tend only to me. — At the door of their lodgings I took my leave of them, after receiving the very obliging invitation to dine with them the nextday. Analtatia was not with them. Mifs Fairfax told me, that, as foon as fhe had thrown for the jars, (he went home, '* for Anaftatia, faid (he, is exct /lively fond of reading and re- citing—and, her reading maftcr, a celebrated a£tor at one of the theatres, happening to be here by accident, fhe would not lofe the oppor- tunity of receiving a lefTon. " She dees excel, afiuredly, faid the elder lady, in thofe accom- plilhmentf, as Mr. ]3efmond, I think will fay, when he hears her." — lexprfffed my fati;fa£tion at the profpe6t of being fo gratified, and then took my leave. Yeiterday morning I favv Waveily, who feemed to embrace, with avidity, the projedt of going with me to Paris — I reprcfented to him the necefhty of his knowing, piecifely, his own mind, as i cannot remain here more than four or five days. — He allures me, that nothing can prevent his going, and that he will infiantly fet about making preparations. — Indetd, my good friend, you were too k\erc upon him. — He is young, and quite without experience, but he feeirvS to have a good difpoiition, and an underftanding capable of improvement. — There is too, a family reiemblance to his ftfter, which, though flight, and rather a flying than a fixed likenefsj intertits me for him; and in diort, lam more defircus ofcur- •ing than of reckoning: his fault?. He l6 D E S M O N I>. He dined with Mrs. Fairfax yeftertlay, where I was alfo invited, and where a party of nine or ten were afTembled. The captivating fifters dif- playt-d all their talents, and 1 own they excel in almofl every accomplifliment. — I have feldom feen a finer figure taken altogether, than the younger fifter, and indeed, your defcription of the perfonal beauty of both, was not exaggera- tion. — To their acquirements, I have already donejuftice: yet, I am convinced, that, with all thefe advantages, my heart, were it totally free fiom every other impreflion, would never become devoted to either. It Vi'ould be nonfenfe to pretend to give rea- fons for this. —With thefe caprices of the ima- gination, and of the heart, you have allowed that Reafon has very little to do. One objection however, to my pretending to either of thefe ladies, would be, that every de- gree cf excellence on which you feeni to dwell. — Always furrounded by admiring multitudes ; or, prailifing thofe acccmpliiliments by which that admiration is acquired, they feem to be in danger of forgetting they have hearts — appearing to feel no preference for any perfon, but thofe who have the fandion of faftion, or the recommen- dation of great property ; and, affluent as they are themfclves, to confider only among the men that furround them, who arc the likelieft to jaife them to higher aiSuence or fupcrior rank. Of this 1 had a fpecimen yefterday — ^Waverly fetms to have an inclination for Mifs Fairfax, and as he and I were the two young men in the party of yefterday, who feemed the moft worthy the notice of the two young ladies, I was (o fortunate as to be ailowed to entertain Mifs Anafiatia, while WaverJy was engaged in ear- neft DESMOND. 17 neft difcourfe by Mifs Fairfax, who put on all thofe fafcinating airs which ftie fo well knows how to affume. — I faw that poor Waverly was confidering whether he {hould not be violently in love with her, or adhere to the more humble beauty, for whom he had been relating h\^ pen- chant to mc a few hours before, when the door fuddenly opened, and a tall young fellow, very d'rty, and apparently very drunk, was (hewn into the room. — The looks of all the ladies tef- tified their fatisfadtion : and they all eagerly exclaimed, " Oh ! my lord, when did you ar- rive, who expe£led you ? — how did you come ?" — Without, however, attending immediately to thefe queftions, he fhook the two young ladies* hands, called them familiary by their Chriftian names : and then throwing himfelf at his length on a fopha, he thus anfwered— *' Came ! — why, curfe me if 1 hardly know how 1 came here — for 1 have not been in bed thefe three nights- Why, J came with Davers, and Lenham, and a parcel of us, We were going to fettle a wager at Tom Felton's — But, rat me, if I know why the plague we came through this damned place, twenty miles at Icaft out of our way. — How in the devil's name do ye contrive to live here, why, here is not a foul to be feen?" — Then, without waiting for an anfwer to this elegant exordium, he fuddenly fnatched the hand of the eldelt Alifs Fairfax, who fat near him, and cried, " hut, by the Lord, my fweet Peggy, you look confoundedly handfome — curfe me if you don't. — By Jove, I believe I fhall be in lovt witn you myielf. — What ! — fo you have got out of your megrims and ficknefs, eh ! — aiid are quite well, you dear little toad you, ?hP" — The Ibfl and fmiling anfwer which the lady is DESMOND. lady gave to an acldrefs fo impertinently familiar,, convinced nne (he was not difpleafed with it : the mother feemed equally fatisfied ; and I hw^ that even the fentimenta! Anaftatia forgot the critique on the laft fafiiionable novel, with which flie had a moment before been obliging me ; and caft a look of folicitude towards that part of the room, where this newly-arrived vifitor, whom they called Lord Newminfter, was talking to her fifter in the ilyle of which I have given you an example — while poor Waverly, who had at cnce loft all his confequence, fat filentand mor- tified, or if he dsfUdently attempted to join in the converfation, obtained no notice from the lady, and only a dare of contemptuous enquiry from the lord, — As, notwithftanding the favor 1 had found a few hours before, I now feemed to be finking faft into the fame infignificance, I thought it better to avoid a continuance of fuch mortitication, by taking my leave; Waverlv, as he accompanied me home, cnald hardly conceal his vexation — yet was unwilling to fliew it : Vvhile I doubt net but Mrs. Fairfax and the young ladies we happily entertained the reft of the evtning by the delcdtable converfation of Lord I\'ewminfter. I ftiajl probably write once more from hence.. Your's, ever and truly, L. D. L E T= D E S M O K D. ig LETTER IV. TO MR. DESMOND. Hartfitid, June to, 1790. I AM forry my prefcription is not likely to fucceed; 1 had perCuadedmyfelf that the youngeft of my fair coufins was the likeliefl: of any wo- man of my acquaintance, to become the objefl of a reafonable attachment. — Surely Defmond you are faftidious — you expert what you will never find, the cultivated mind and polilhed manners of refined fociety, with the fimplicity and unpretending modefty of retired life — they are incompatible — they cannot be united ; and this model of pcrfe6tion, which you have ima- gined, and can never obtain, will be a fuurce of unhappinefs to you through life. I told you in 2 former letter, that I would endeavour to give you a little of my dearly- bought experience. You know that I have been unhappy ; but you are probably quite unac- quainted with the fources from whence that un- happinefs originates — in relating them to you I may perhaps ccnvnce you, that ignorance and fimplicity are no fecuritiesagainft theevils which you fecm to apprehend in domeftic life ; and that the woman, who is fuddenly raifed from humble mediocrity to the gay fcenes of faihiona- ble fplendor, is much more likely to be giddily intoxicated than one who has from her infancy been accuftomed to them. At one and twenty, and at the clofe of a long minority, which had been palled under the care of very CACelient guardians, 1 became mailer of a very aO 1> E S M O Pi I>. a very large fum of ready money, and an eftate the largeft and beft conditioned that any gentle- man pofTefl'ed in the country where it lay. — I was at that time very- unlike the fober fellow I now appear — and the moment I was free from the reftraint of thoi'e friends, to whofe guardian- Tnip my father had left me, I rufhed into all the diffipation that was going forward, and became one of the gayeft men at that time about town. With fuch a fortune it was not difficult to be introduced into " the very firft world." — The llluilrious adventurers and titled gamblers,, of whom that world is compofed, found me an admirable rubje6l for them j while the women, who were then either the mod celebrated orna- ments of the circle where 1 moved, or were en- deavouring to become fo, were equally felicitous, to obtain my notice — and the unmarried part of them feemed generoufly willing to forget my want of title in favour of my twelve or thirteen, thoufand a year. — I had, however, at a very early period of my career, conceived an affe. offering my congratulation on your fortunate choice of Waverly for a travelling companion — nor can I avoid admiring the efFeft of family I tie fiefs. Adieu ! your's ever, E. BETHEL, LET- D E S M 6 N D. 31 LETTER V. TO MR. BETHEL. June 25, 1790. YOU are very good to have taken fo much trouble, and to have entered on a detail fo pain- ful to yourfelf for my advantage — be aflured, my good frienJ, 1 feel all my obligations to you on this, and on innumerable occafions j and that I fhould pay to your opinion the utmofl defe- rence were not my marrying novi^, perhaps my ever marrying at all, quite out of the queftion —for I believe I (hall never have an heart to beftow, and. without it I can never folicit that love, which, fo circumftanced, I can neither, deferve nor repay. You tell me, Bethel, that I vainly expe' No, my dear Pegg," anfwered he, yawning in her face as he fpoke ; *' I cannot undertake the fatigue, for I was up at eight o'clock to lee a iet too between the Ruffian and Big Ben., who are to fight next week DESMOND. 39 week for a thoufand. — I fparred a little myfelf, and now I'm damned tired, and fit for nothing but a lounge; perhaps I may meet you in my phaeton an hour hence or fo, that's juft as the whim takes me." — The Lady then, in the fame gentle tone cried — " Oh creature ! equally idle and ferocious !" — while he folded his arms, and re-fettling himfvlf, with his two dogs upon the fopha, declared, that he felt himfelf difpofed to take a nap. The old General, more gallant and more ad^ive, notwithftanding his gout and his fize, jiow led Mifs Fairfax to her horfe ; and, as he affifted her to mount it, he feemed to whifper lome very tender fentence in her ear ; if I could guefs by the peculiar cxprefiion of his features, while 1 had nothing to do but to wait while all this paffed, and when the ceremony was finiflied, to ride filentiy awiiy by her fide. We had hardly, however, quitted the town, when the young Lady thus began : — ** This is really very frightful news, Mr. Defmond, that General Wallingford has brought us to-day. — Do you not tliink it extremely lliocking ?" '* No, Ma- dam, not at all j 1 own myfelf by no means maflerof the fubjed)^, but from all I do kncw\ I feel myfelf much more difpofed to rejoice at, than to lament it." " ImpofTible, Mr. Defmond ! — Surely I mif- underftand you ! — What ! are you difpoled to rejoice that nobility and fafliion are quite de- ftroyed ?" *' I am glad that oppreffion is deftroyed j that the power of injuring the many is taken from the few. — Dear Madam, are you aware of the evils which, in confequence of the feudal fyftem, exifttd in France? A fyftcm formed in the 4© DESMOND. the blindefl: periods of ignorance and prejudice; which gave to the noblejfe^ not only an exemp- tion from thofe taxes which crufhed the people by their weight, but gave to the pofl'eflbrs of le$ terres titrh, every power to impoverifh and deprefs the pealant and the farmer; on whom, after all, the pro perity of a nation depends.— That thefe powers are annihilated, no generous mind can furely lament." " 1 hope," replied Mifs Fairfax, with more afperity than I thought my humility deferved — *' I hope, Sir, I am not ungenerous, nor quite ignorant, neither, of the hiftory of France — But I really muft own, that I cannot fee the matter in the light vou do. — Indeed, lean fee nothing but the moft horrid cruelty and injuf- tice."— *' In calling a man by one name, rather than by another !-^My dear Mifs Fairfax, the cruelty and injuftice muft furely be imaginary." • *' Not at all, in my opinion ^ Sir," retorted my fair antagonift. — " A title is as much a perfon's property as his eftate ; and, in my mind, one might as well be taken away as another — And to lofe one's very birth-right, by a mob too, of vulgar creatures. — Good Heaven ! I declare the very idea is exceflively terrific ; only fuppofe the Englifo mob weie toget fucha notion, and in fome .odiousriot, begin the fame fort of thing here !" " Perhaps," replied I (ftill, I afl'ure you, fpeaking with the utmoft humility) " perhaps there never may exifl here the fame caufe ; and, therefore, the e^e<^ will not follow.— Our no- bility are lefs numerous ; and, till within a kw years, that titles have became fo very common, they were all of that defcription which could be ranked only with the haut noblejje of France ; they DESMOND. 41 they are armed with no powers toopprefs, indi- vidually, the infcnor onitT of men ; they have no vaflals but ihofe whofe fervice is voluntary; and, upon the whole, are fo different a b(jdy of men from that which was once the nobility of France, £S to admit no very juft comparifon, and no great probability of the fame fteps ever being taken, to annihilate their titles; though they pofiefs, in their right of hereditary legiflacion, a ftrong, and to many, an obnoxious feature which the higher ranks in France never pof- fefled. — However, we will, if you pleafe, and merely for the fake of converfation,fuppofe that the people^ or, if you pleafe, the vulgar^ took it into their heads to level all thofe diftindlions that depend upon names — I own I fee nothing in it fo very dreadful, it might be endured." " Yes, by favages and brutes, perhaps," replied the Lady, with anger flafliing from her eyes, and lending new eloquence to her tongue, ** but I muft fay, that I never expedled to hear from a man of fafliion, a defence of an a6l fo (hamefully tyrannous and unjuft, exercifed over their betters by the fcum of the people ; an zSt that muft deftroy all the elegance of manners, all the high polifh that ufed to rendet people, in a certain ftyle, fo delighful in France. By degrees, i fuppofe, thofe who can endure to flay in a country under fuch a dercftable fort of go- vernment, will become as rude and difgufling as our common country 'Squires." I faw by the look with which this fpeech was delivered, that /was decidedly a corainon coun- try 'Squire. — '* Unhappily," replied 1, '•*■ my dear Mifs Fairfax, the race of men whom you call common country 'Squires, are alinoft, if not entirely annihilated in i-ngland j though na 3 decree 42 DESMOND". decree has pafTed againft them — A total change of manners has effected this." I was going on, but with great vivacity fhe interrupted me. — *' So much the better, Sir, they will never be regretted." — " Perhaps not, Madam, and as we are merely arguing for the fake of converfation, let me juft fuppofe that the fame thing might happen, if all thofe who are now raifcd above us by their names, were to have no other diftin£iion than their merits. — Let me afk you, would the really great, the truly noble among them (and that there are many fuch nobody is more ready to al- low) be lefs beloved and revered i/ they were known only by their family names? On the other hand, would the celebrity of the men of ton be much reduced ? For example, the noble- man I had the honour of meeting at your houfe to-day. — He is now, I think, called Lord HeW' minfter. Would he be lefs agreeable in his manners, lefs refined in his convtrfation, lefs learned, lefs worthy, lefs refpf£table, were he un- happillycompelled to be called, as his father was before he bought his title, Mr. Grantham?" I know not whether it was the matter or the manner that ofFended my beautiful anftocrate, but fhe took this fpeech molt cruelly amifs, and mofl inhumanely determining to avenge herfelf upon me ; (he replied with fymptoms of great indignation in her countenance, " That fhe was iT\x\y forry to fee the race of mere country 'Squires did flill exif)-, and that, among thofe where, from fortune and pretenfions, fhe fhould leaft have imagined they would be found. (This was me. ) That as to Lord Newminfler, by whatever name he might at any time be called, fhe fhould, for her part, always fay and think, DESMOND. 43 think, that there were few who fo completely filled the part of a man of real fafliion among the nobility ; and not one, in any rank of life, who, in her mind, pofTefled a twentieth part of his good qualities. The manner in which this was uttered, was undoubtedly meant to crufh at once, and for ever, all the afpiring thoughts, that I, prefum- ing on the ftrength of my fortune, might per- adventure have dared to entertain. — Over- whelmed by the pretty indignation, as much as by the unanfwerable arguments of my angry goddefs, I began to confider how I might turn or drop difcourfe where I was fo likely to fufFer for my temerity, when I was relieved by the ap- pearance of a carriage, at a diftance, which, {he faid, {he knew to be Lord Newminfter's phae- ton ; and, without any further ceremony than {lightly wi{hing me good-morrow, (he centered away to meet it — leaving me, as flowly I trotted another way, to congratulate my country en the pure notions of patriotic virtue with which even its women are imprefi'edj and, on fuch able fupporters of its freedom, as Lord Newminfter in the upper, and General Wallingford in the lower Houfe. — Alas ! my oppofite principles, however modeftly and diffidently urged, have loft me, as i have fince found, for ever, that favour, which without being a man of fafhion, I was once fo happy as to enjoy from your fair relations : for whenever, in the courfe of the next two or three days, I happened to meet them, I was {lightly noticed, that 1 apprehend our acquaintance will end here. — Condole with me, dear Bethel j and, to make fome amends, let me foon hear from you. I have 44 DESMOND. I have had, very unexpe£^edly, a letter firem Mr. Dangby, my mother's fole furviving bro- ther ; who, abforbed in his own fmgular no- tions and amufements, has hardly feemed to re- colle(5t me for many years. — He has heard, I know not how (for I have long had i>o other communication with him, thsi. writing him an annual letter, with an annual prefent of game and venifon fmce J became of age) that I am going to France ; and he ftrongly remonftrates upon the danger I fhall incur if I do, both to my perfon and my principles. — He entreats me not to try fuch a hazardous journey ; and hints, that his fortune is too large to be defpifed — i don't know what this fuddcn fit of folicitude means, for though I am the only relation he has, 1 never had any reafon to think I fhould benefit by his fortune ; and your care, my dear Bethel, has prechided the neceffi*y of my defiring it. I fhall anfwer him with great civility, however, but certainly make no alteration in my plan* Adieu! my friend — fail not to write if you bear any thing of the family of Verney. Your's ever, LIONEL DESMOND, LET- DESMOND. 45 LETTER VI. TO MR. BETHEL. ' Calais, July 4, 1790. I HAD waited for Waverly the week I had promifed to wait — the laft day of that week was come : and I was going to enquire for a paflage to Calais or Dunkirk, when I met Anthony, his fervant, in the ftreet. The poor fellow was covered with duft, and feemed half dead with fatigue; '*WeH Anthony where is your mafteri"' ** Qh ! lord fir," anfwered he, " my mafter has changed his mind about going to France, and fent me poft from Stamford in Lincoln* fhire, Sir, where he is gone with fome other gentlemen to an houfe, one Sir James Dey- bourne has juft by there; — Sir, I have hardly been off the faddle for above iix-and- thirty hours ; and we had no fooner got dov/n there, than mafler fent me off poft to )our honor ; to let you know. Sir, that he could not, no how in the world, go to Paris with you at this time." — *' But did he not write ;" " why, no Sir, he was going to write I believe, but fomehow his friends they perfuaded him there was no need of it; fo, Sir, he called me, and bid me, that I fhould deliver the meflage to you, about his not coming, the fooneft 1 pofllbly could : and fo, Sir, I fet off diredly, and he told me to fay that he (hould write in a very little time ; and he hoped he faid, that I would make hafte, to pre- vent your honor's waiting for him." 1 had at this moment occafion to recolleif^, how neatly Waverly was related to Geraldine ; to prevent my feeling fome degree of anger and refent- 46 DESMOND. T«fentment towards him. — I fent, however, his poor haraffed fervant to my lodgings, where I ordered him to refrefh himfelf by eating and fleeping ; and then went to fee about my paf- fage to France. I afterwards fauntered into one of the libra- ries, and took up a book ; but my attention was foon diverted, by a very plump, fleck, fhort, and, altogether, a moft orthodox figure ; whofe enormous white wig, deeply contrafted by his peony-coloured face, and confequential air, de- clared him to be a dignitary, very high, atleaft in his own efteem. — On his entrance he was very refpedlfully faluted by a little thin man ia black ; whofe fnug well-powdered curls, hum- ble demeanor, and cringing addrefs, made me fuppofe him either a dependent on the plump doiSlor, or one who thought he might benefit by his influence — for he not only refigned the newf- paper he was reading, but buftled about to pro- cure others ; — while his fuperior, noticing him but little, fettled himfelf in his feat, with a ma- gifterial air — put on his fpedacles, and took out his fnuff-box ; and having made thefe ar- rangements, he began to look over the paper of the day; but feeing it full of intelligence from Prance, he laid it down, and, " As who fliould fay I am Sir Oracle," he began an harangue, fpeaking flowly and through his nofe. " *Tis an uneafy thing," faid he, " a very uneafy thing, for a man of probity and princi- ples to look in thefe days into a newfpaper. — Greatly muft every fuch man be troubled to read of the proceedings that are going forward ia DESMOND. 47 in France. — Proceeding?, which muft awaken the wrath of heaven ; and bring down upon that perfidious and irreverent people its utmoft indignation." I'he little man took the opportunity the fo- lemn clofe of this pompous oration gave him, to cry — '* very true, Dodtor, your obfervation is perfedly juft ; things to be fure have juft now a very threatening appearance." '* bir," re- fumed the grave perfonage, " it is no appear- ance^ but a very (hocking redlity. They have done the moft unjuft and wicked of all adlions in depriving the church of its revenues.— 'Twere as reafonable. Sir, for them to take my birth-right or your's." " I thought, Dodor," faid a plain looking man, who had attended very earneftly to the beginning of this dialogue — *' I thought, that the revenues and lands of the church, being the property of the ftatc, they might be diredled by it into any channel more conducive, in the opi- nion of that ftate, to its general good ; and that it appearing to the National AiFembly of France, that this their property was unequally divided; and that their bifhops lived like princes, while their curates * had hardly the means of living like men, — I imagined " " You imagined, Sir ? — And give me leave to alk what right you have to imagine ? — or what you know of the fubjcdt ! — The church lands and revenues the property of the itate ! — No, Sir — I affirm that they are not — That they are the property of the pofleflbrs, as much. Sir, as your land and houfes, if you happen to have any, are your's." ** Not quite (o^ furely, my good Dodor," replied the gentleman mildly — " My houfes * Curees-retSors. and 48 DESMOND. and lands — ifj as you obferve, I happej> to have any, were- piababiy either acquired by my own iiidiiftry, or were my birth-right. — Now Sir" — He would have proceeded, but the Divine^ in an angry and fupercilious •manner interrupted him — *' Sir, I wont ar- gue, I wont commit myfelf, nor endeavour to convince a perfon whofe principles are, 1 fee, fundamentally wrong. — But no man of fenfc will deny, that when the prefent body of French clergy took upon them their holy funiiions — that then they became, as it were, born again ' — and— and — and by their vows — " *' But, my worthy Sir, ihofe vows were vows of poverty. — They were vows, by which, far from acquiring temporal goods; the means of worldly indulgencies, they exprefsly re- i\ounced all terreftrial delights, and gave them- felves to a life of mortification and humility.— Now, it is very certain, that many of them not only polTeiTed immenfe revenues, wrung from the hard hands of the peafant and the artificer, but ailually expended thofe revenues. — Not in relieving; the indigent, or encouraginj the in- duftrious j but in gratifications more worthy the diflblute followers of the meretricious fcarlet- clad lady of Babylon, than the mortified difci- ples of a fimple and pure religion." Then, as if difdaining to carry farther an argument in which he had fo evidently the advantage againft the proud petulance of his adverfary, the gentle- man walked calmly away, while the Doi^tor, fwelling with rage, cried, " I don't know who that perfon is, but he is very ignorant, and very ill-bred." — " 'Tis but little worth your while, Dodlor," cried the acquiefcent young man, ** to eater into controverfial difcourfe with perfons fo DESMOND. 49 fo unworthy of the knowledge and literature which you ever throw into your convcifation." *' It is not, Sir," anfwercd the Doctor ; '* it were indeed a woeful warte of the talent with which it has pleafed heaven to entrufl: me, to contend with the utheiftica! pietendcrs to phiio- fophy, that obtrude themftrlves but too much into fociety. — However, Sir, a little time will fhew that 1 am right, in aflerting, thit a nation that pays no more regard to the facied order, can never profper : — but, tliat fuch hnnible fa* crilciious robberv, as that wretched anarchy, for I cannot call it government, has bien guilty of, will draw down calamities upon the mifera- ble people ; and that the evil fpirit, which is let Joofe among them, will prompt them to deluge their country with blood, by deftroying each other." " So much the better, Dodor," cried a fat, bloated figure, in a brown ridin'y wi», a red waii^coit, and boots — " fo much the better— I heartily, for my parr, wifh they may." This philanthropic perfonage, who had till now been talking with an old lady about the price of foals and mackarel that morning at market, now quitted his feat, and fquatting himfelf down near the two reverend genileu.en, proceeded bnfkly in his difcourfe, as if perfcvSlly confcious of its weight and energy. — " Yts Doctor, I vote for their cutting one anothcrs throats, and fo faving us the trouble — The fooncr they fee ab'jut it, the better I /hall be pleaftd, for, as for my parr, I deteft a Frenchman, and always did.^ — You muft know, that hft funiiier, I went down to Brighton, for I always go every fum- mer to fome of thefv? kind of waterin^^ plar^s.— So, as I wasobferving, I went down to Bri;ih- VoL. I. D ton 50 TJ E S M O N D. 'ton in the month of Auguft, which is the beft part of the feafon, becaufe of the wheat-ears being plenty ; but, I dont know how it happen- ed, I had an ugly feci in my ftomach : what was the meaning of it I could not tell: but, I quite loft n:\y relifh for iny dinner, and fo I thought it proper to confult a phyfician or two on the cafe ; and they advif-d me to try if a little bit of a fail would not fet things to rights ; and told me, that very likely, if I went over the water, I Ihould fuid my app' tite. — So, Sir, I determined to go, for riding did me no goo'l at all ; and fo of courfel was a liltie uneafy. — So, Sir, I even went over the herring pond. — I was as fick as a hctrfe, to be fuie, all night ; but however, the next morning, when we landed on 1 rench ground, there was I tolerably chirruping, and pretty wtll dilpofed for my breakfaft.— Oh, ho! tninks I, this will liufwcr, I believe. — However, Ithougiit I would lay by for dinner, for the Monfieur at the inn told us he could let u^ have game and fiCii. — But lord, Sir, mod of their provifions are nothing to be compired fo ours; and what is good they ruin by th>?!r vile manner of dielfing ii. — Why, Sir, we h id for dinner foiiie fouls- the fiiieft I evtr faw, but they were fried in bad lard ; and then, Sir, for the par- tridges, there was neither game gravy, nor poivrrade, nor even bread faucc. — Faith, I had enoiJtih of them and their cookery^ in one day j fd. Sir, the next morning I embarked again for Old England. However, upon the whole, the tiling itfelf anfvered well enough, for m) ap- petite was almoll at a par, as 1 may fay, when I came home. But for }Our French, 1 never defire to fet eytis on any of them again — and indeed, fof mv part, I am free to fay, that if the whole e DESMOND. 51 whole race was extirpated, and we were in pof- fcflion of their country, as in jiiftice it is certain we ought to be, why, it would be fo much the better — VVefhould maice a better hand of it in fuch a country as that a great deal. — I under- hand, that one of the things thcfe fellows have done fince they have got the notion of liberty into their head«, has been, to let loole all the taylors and tinkers and frifleurs in their coun- try, to dcftroy as much game as they pleafe. Now, Sir, what a pity it is, th^t a country where there is fo much, is not ours, and our game-laws in force there. — And then their wne ; I can't fay I ever faw a vineyard, be- caufe, as I obferved, I did not go far enough up the country : but, no doubt, we fhould manage that matter much better; and, upon the whole, confidering we always were their ma(hr«, my opinion is, that it would be right and proper for our minirtry to take this opportunity of falling upon them, while they are weakening each other ; and, if they will have liberty, give theni a little tafte of the liberty of us Englillimen ; for, of themfelve?, they can have no right no- tion of what it is — and, take my word for it, its the meereft folly in the world for them to think about it. — No, no ; none but tnglirnmen, free- born Britons, either underftand it or defcrve it." Such was the volubility and vehemence with which this fpeech was made, that the Doctor could not find any opportunity to interrupt it.— Whatever were his opinion of the politics of the orator, he feemed heartily to coii cide with him in the notions he entertained on the important fcience of eating. He therefore (though with an air of reflraint, and as if he would cautioufly D 2 guard 54 DESMOND. guard his dignity from the too great familiarity with whcii the other Teemed to approach him) e-ntered into another diO'crtatioii on the French revolution, anathematifing all its pr(Je6t"rs and upholders, with a zeal which fcrnulphus might envy ; and, in (carce lefs charitable terms, branding thtni v/ith the imputation of every hit'eous vice he could co!le6t, and ending a very long oration with a pious and chriitian denu^nciati^ n of battle And murder, pcftiknce and famine here, and ctermd torments here.tfter, for all who imagined^ aided, or commended fuch an abomination. I'he gentleman who had vifited France for' the reftoration of his appetite (and who had formerly, as I learned afterwards, kept a ta- vern in London, and was now retired upon a fortuf.e) feemed unable oi* unwilling to diftin* S,ui(h declamation rrom argument, or prejudice from reafon — He appeared to be dtlighttd by the furious eloquence of the churchtnat), whcm he Ihook heartily by the hand. — '* Doctor,'* cried he, " I am always rejoictd to meet with gentlemen of your talents and capacity ; you are an honour to our e(li.bliftimeni ; what )ou have faid is quite convincing indeed j ftrong, unanfwerable argument : I hear.iiy wifli fome of my acquaintance, who pretend to He advo- cates for French liberty, were to hear \ ou — I believe they'd foon be pur to anon-plus — You'd be quite too much for them, I'm furc. Pray, !>■ cVor, "ive me leave to aft, what liay do you tnean to make In this place ? 1 fh.dl be proud to cultivate the honour of your acquaintance ; if }'ou are here next we-k, will \ou do me the fa- vour to dine with me on Wednefday — I've a chicken- turtle, which promifes Vi-ell — the firft I've P E S M O N D. 53 I've rpceiv'L'u this feafon, from what I call my XVcft-Indian f.irm } a little patch of properly X puichaied, a few years fince, in Jamaica. — A» to the dielling of turtles, I always fte to that myftlf, for I am extremely particular; though, i muft fay, my negro fellow is a very excelieiil hand at it — 1 have lent him more than once to perform for fome great people at t'other end of the town. — if you'll do m;; the pleafure, Doc- tor, to take a dinner with me 1 (hall be glad ; and, indeed, befides the favour ot your company, I would fain have the four or five fnends that I've invited for that day, to hear a little of your opinion upon thefe faid French matters." Though the Dodtor had, till now, hefitated and leemed to doubt whether he did not de- fcend too much from his elevated fuperioiity> in encouraging the forwaidnefs of his new ac- quaintance ; this propofal, flattering at once his pride and his appetite, was irrcfiflible. — He, therefore, relaxing from the air of arrogant dignity he ufually woic, accepted very graci- ouily of the invitation t.) afUil in devoui ing the chicken-tuitle, and then thcf? two worthy champions of British f.ii;h and BritiHi liberty, entered into converfation on matters, which, feem as it fhould, were neither laft nor leaft in their efteem. This was an enquiry into the good thi.igs for the table, that weie to be found in the neighbourhood ; in praife of many of whch, tiiey were extremely eloquent. — ihe J3oitor complained of the fcarcuy of venifon, but added, that he expc6ted an excellent haunch in a few days, horn a nobleman, his friend 4nd patron ; ot which, Mr. "Sldebottom (for fuch was the n-ime ot this newly acquired friend) was rtqueded to partake. — This requell: was, of 54 DESMOND. ofcourfe, readily afiented to, and they, at length left the Shop together, having fettled to ride to a neighbouring farm houfe, v/here Mr. Sidebot- tom aHined the Doftor, that he hd difcovered fome delicate fat ducks and pigeons, of peculiar fize and flavour. — " 1 even queftion," faid he, •' whether there will not be, in about a week's time, fome nice turkey pov/ts. — The good wo- man is very clever about her poultry, and if file has had tolerisbie luck fmce I faw her, they muft now he nearly fit for thf difh." — In this pleafing hope, the two genclcmen departed to- gether ; I fallowed them at a little diftance, and faw them accoflcd by a thin, pale figure of a woman, with one infant in her arms and ano- ther following her ; her drefs was not that of a beggar, yi::t it befpoke extreme indigence ; I fanctfd ihe was a fo eigner, and my idea was confiimed when I heard her fpeak ; fhe fiepped flowlj, and, asitfeemed, iri'ioluttly, towards the two profperous men, who were going in fearch of fat ducks and early turkeys j and, in impeifedt Knglifh, began to relate, that fhe was a widow, and in great diftrefs, ** A wi- " dow," cried Mr. Sidebottom, " why you are a Frenchwoman 5 what have you to do here ? and why do you not go back to your €>wn country ? This is the time there for beg- - gars — they have got the upper hand. Go, go, miftrefs ; get back to your own country." — The poor woman anivvered, that fhe had tra- velled towards Dover with her two children, in hopes of getting a paffage to France ; but that they having been ill on the road, her little ftock of money was exhaufted ; *' and therefore," faid fhe, " I was advifed to come hither, Sir, in hopes of procuring, by the generofity of the D £ S M O N D. 55 the company who frequent this place, where- withal to pay my pafl'age to France; for unlefs 1 can produce enough for that purpofe, no com- mander of a veflel will take me." " And let me tell you, they very properly refufe," faid Mr. Sidebottom, " you had no bufinefs that 1 know of in England, but to take the bread out of the mouth of our own people ; and now I fuppofe you are going to join the fifK women, and i'uch like, who are pulling down the king's palaces." — Ihe unhappy woman caft a look of anguifh on her children, and was quietly relinquifhing this hopelefs application, when the Dodtor, more alive to the tender foli- citations of p'ty than Mr. Sidebottom, put his hand into his pocket, and then in a nafal voice and in a magifterial manner, thus fpoke : ** Woman! though I have no doubt but that thou art a creature of an abandoned condufl, and that thefe children are bafe born j yet, be- ing a flranger and a foreigner, I have fo much univerfal charity, that, unworthy as I believe thee, 1 will not fhut my heart againft thy peti- tion. If thou art an impoRor, and wickedly impofeft upon that charity, fo much the worfe for thee J 1 do my duty in beftowing it, and the wrong refts with thee! Here! Here is — lix- pence ! which I give thee towards thy paillige! Go, therefore, depart in peace ; and let me not have occafion to reprove thee to morrow for lingering about the ftreets of this place : where, as people of fortune and confideration come for their health, they ought not to be diflurbed and difgufted by the fight of objedls of mifery. I don't love to fee beggars in thefe places ; their importunity is injurious to the nerves. — Let me hear of you no more — Our laws oblige us to pro- vide for no poor but our own." The ^,6 D B S M O N D. The IDoft.^.r leaving thus fulfilled two great ciuties of his proftffior, thofe of giving advice, 2ncl pivirijT alni<, ftruttedaw:^y with the worthy Mr Sidebottom; who wifely confidered that the liiiiipikc through which he muft pafs in his lour after good di(ht-s, W(uld demand thf' Imall money he haii about him, he therefore (orebore lo add to the bounty of the Dodtor towards the unfortunate pttitioner, who, feeling fome de- gree of alarm from the remonliranceflit imper- feilly underlh)od, reiiiained for a momentgazing ■on the fix- pence, which fhe yet held in her hand. She then riafped the youngeft of her children to her bread, took the hand of the other 2S he clung to her gov/n, and burft into t-ars. In a moment, however, {he dried her eyes, and, leaning againtl the rails of the parade, file caft a defpairing Ir.ok towards the gay gro'-ps who were pailing, yet feemed exanuning to which of thf-ni Oie might apply with mofl hope of f'jccefs. f\t this moment I approached nearer to ht r i but (he did not fee me till i fpcke to her in French, and inquired, how 1 could afTift her. The voice of kindnefs, in her ov/n language, was fo fooihing, and 1 fear fo new, that Ihe was for lome motDents unable to anfwer me j the fimpl.citv of the narrative w tfi which fhe at length fdtisned my inquiry, convinced me of the truth of all ibe related. She told me, that her hufoand, the fon of a reputable trad- fman at Amiens, had married her, thedaugh^ccr of a very inferior one, againll his father's poll five injUn<£l:ions, who had there- upon difmified him ftom t!vc huflneCs to which he had been brought up, and left him to the world. I'hat thus deflitute, with a wile, and foon afterwards a child to fupport, he had ac- cepted D £ S M O .V t). 57 cepted the offer of an Engllfti gentleman fo ac- company him to England, " where he behavfd ff) well," continued ihe, ** that his mafler, who was a good man, became much his friend, and hearing he had in France a wife and child, whom he loved, he not only gave leave, but money to have us fetched over. Some months ■^hcv, Sir, the gentleman married a very rich lady from the city, who wifhed him to part with his French fervant ; but though he prevailed upon her lo let him keep a perfon who h^d been very faith- ful to him, the lady never liked him. In lefs than a twelvemonth after his marriage, my liuf- band's mafler was taken ill of a fever and died. My hufband fat up with him many night«, and by the time his mafter was carried to the grave, he fell ill himfelf of the fame diftemper; and his lady being afraid of the infection, hurried him out of the houfe to the lodging where X and my children lived. There he lay dreadfully ill for three weeks, during which time the lady fent a phyiician to him once or twice, but after- wards went into the country, and thought no more about him ; fo that we had nothinf: toftip- port this cruel illnefs, but what my hufoand !iad faved in his fervice ; which, with a wife and two children to keep out of his wages, to be fure, could not be much. He "ot throu^^h the fever, Sir, but it had fo ruined his blood, that he went almoft immediately into a decrne j and it is now three weeks fince he died, leaving me quite deftitute with thL^fe two children. I applied for help, in this my iiunoft diftrefs, to the widow of his late mafter, in whofe fervice he certainly loft his life. After waiting a great while for an anfwer, fhe fent a gentleman lo me with a guinea, which vva>-, fhe (aid, i.il fhe D 5 fhoaUl 58 DESMOND. fhould ever do for me ; and fhe advifed me to get back to France. This, by the afliftance of the gentleman that brought me this money, who touched with pity for my fituaticn, raifed for me, among his friends, above a guinea more, 1 attempted to do ; but on the road my children tell fick, and my money was all expended in procuring them afliftance : fo that now I have no means of reaching France, where, if 1 could once get, I hope my parents, poor as they are, would receive me, and that I fhould be able fome way or other to earn my bread and my children's." I hope it is unneceflary to fay, that I imme- diately fet the widow's heart at eafe on this fcore ; and undertook to pay for her's and her children's conveyance. Yefterday evening then I embarked. The ,wind was againft us, and the fea ran extremely high; but 1 was impatient to be gonej and though the mafter doubted whether he could crofs to Dunkirk, I was impatient, and preflVd him to gee under iveigh, which he did, nctwith- fUnding the unprumiiuig appearance of the wea- ther. I fat upon deck, looking towards the fhore, when I faw, though we were by this tinit at a coi\fiderable di (lance fiom it, a gioup of people , who feemed to be making fignals to the men in the veflel. I bade the mailer obferve them, and he diiiinguiflied, by hisgLl's, a boat attempting to put oil, in which he told me he imagined fome other pafTcngers, who had arrived alter we had come on board, might be. He requeued, there- fore, that! would give him leave to lay to and wait for it, which 1 readily granted ; and as the waves were new extremely high, we continued, with DESMOND. 59 with fome apprehenfions, to watch the boat, which was a very fmall one, and which often en- tirely difappeared. At length by the great exertion of the fiflier- men who were in it, the boat came along fide, and one of the men hailing the mafter, told hina he had brought a gentleman and his twofervants, who wer» but juft arrived from London in great hafte, for a pafTage to France. Three rueful figures did indeed appear in the boat ; and in the firft of them that was helped up the fide of the veffel, I recognifed Waverly ! Sick to death, wet to the fkin, and 1 believe, not a little frightened by the tofling of the boat, he tould not immediately anfwer the queftions 1 put to him. At length he told me, that the day after he had fent off Anthony he altered his mind, and fet out poft to overtake me before I failed. " But now, faid he, I wifh fomehow 1 had not come till next v/eek ; for fetting off in fuch a hurry, I have not brought my horf«s and carriages as I intended ; and have only that portmanteau of cloaths with me." I was almoft tempted to tell him he had then better return on fliore, and wait for the accommodation he thus regretted ; but I thought of Geraldine, and detefting myfelf for my petulence, began to condole with, inftead of blaming the half- drowned Waverly, whom I immediately advifed to change his cloaths and go to bed, for he fuf- fcred extremely from the motion of the vcffel, and again wifhed himfelf on fhore. On the facre, however, to which, in Icfs turbulent weather, a little encouragement might have fent him, he had now no inclination to venture, but took my advice and retired to the cabin; from whence Anthony came up in a few moments with a letter in his hand, which he laid his maf- ter 60 DESMOND. ter had forgot to giv^e me. I looked at the di- rection — ic was the writing, the elegant VvTitins, cfGeraldine. I opened it with trembling hands, and a palpitating heart. Heavens! does fhe write to me ? Dare 1 hope fiie remembers me? — I have employed every moment fmce in read- ing and in copying it, that you may fee how elegantly fhe writes, though I cannot part with the original. With what delight I retrace every word file has written j with what tranfport kifs the fpaces between the lines, where her fingers have pafTed. But you have no notion of all this, and will fmile contemptuoufly at it, as boyifii and romantic folly. My dear liethel, why fii'iuld we call folly that which hallows fuch happincfs, fincc, after all our wifdom, our feli- city depends merely on the imagination? I feel lighter and gayer hnce I have been in pofTeflion of this dear letter, the firft 1 ever received from her I Waverly's little foibles difappear before its powerful infiutnce. It ads like a tali man, and liides his faults, half of which I am ready to think virturs, fince without his indccifion I ihoulu never have received it. Oh ! with what zeal w:ll ' endeavour to execute the ch.^rge my any-tlic friend irlvee rne to w.itch over the con- duct of her brother. He is really not a bad young man i and i particularly rejoice at his — i)eing here, as 1 have learned from him, this nioinine-, that the people vviih whom he went from Bath inco LincolnfViire arc ganibleis, who have won a conildeuble fum of money of b.m. From fuch adve.'Uurcs, 1 hope to fave h!rr; in future , and admitting it poflible that his ujifeitled temper may fomeiimes occafion me 1. me trouble, I fhall rem.ember that he is the Iroiher of iiiV adorable GeraldiiiC, and the tafic will DESMOND. 6 1 will become a plcafure. — Farewell, my frienr!, you know my addrefs at Paris, i (hall go on this evening to Amiens, where I fliall, perhaps, be detained a day by the affairs of mv poor protegee and her children, who mud be put into Tome way of fubfiftence before 1 leave them. 1 am, ever, my dear Beihel, Faithfully your'?, LIONEL DESMOND. L E T- 62 O £ S M O K D. LETTER VII. Paris, Jul/ 19, 1790. I H AV F^ now, my dear Bethel, been fome days in this capita!, without having had time to write to you ; (o deeply has the animating fpec- tacle of the J4.th, and the converfation in which I have been fince engaged, occupied my atten- tion. — 1 can now, however, aflure you — and with the mort: heart-felt fatisfa6lion, that nothing is more unlike the real flate of this country, than the accounts which have been given of it in En " ! know nrt \«.heiher, in the nurneroas aneccictet of this kind, th.ii have been colleiie.', it has ever btcn rtlated, thai a very -few years fince, a ynunfr Frt nchn^an of fufhion — one of " the very Tirfl world," was driving through the llreet= of ParK, with an Lrg'.fhman, hit acouainiante, in a tahric.'et, in the rue S\ Honor), which is always extremi ly crowdeci, hi^ horfe thievs do.vn a poor nan. and the wheeU gi'ing ove: his n ck, k Ued him on the fpot — The Englifluraa, with all the emoti>»ft5 «)f terror. nitU'-d on fuch an inc oe.'.i, ciied out — Good Gcd, you have killed ihe man !— The chorictcer drove tn ; faying, with all poflible l"ng fniJ — *' Eh bieti, lant fis four /«<" — Well ther.j fo muth the v.'orle for him. -f " B^t ihett ifc iii'l too rri^ny." themfelvcs DESMOND, 65 thcnifclves of a fuperior fpecies, and to be com- pellfd to learn that they art men. 1 was afTurerl, in London, that I (hould find Paris a ('efirt-.— How true fuci'j an afleition i!=) ]tt the public walk^, and public ipcctacles vvit- nefs J places, where luch numbers affl-mble, as are hardl)' ever feen colleded in London, ^unlefs on very extraordinary occa(ionsj) yet, where et'cn in the pi efcnt hour, wh' n the ferment of the public mind cannot h.vt lubfided, there is na diforder, no tumult, nor even that degree of difturbance, which the moft trifling popular whim txciies among us. It is, howevei, at thefe places, the peopje are to be fcen, and not their opprtfTors. — And if it is ujily ihe/e latter that conft tutes an in- habited cc'Untry, Paris will remain, perhaps, (leferted, in the eyes of thofr- who are ^'efcriced by LJeneral Wallirigford and Mrs. Fairfax — as '■'- people of fafhion" — les gens ccmme il faut — While the philofopher, the philaiuhropili, the citizen of the world; whole comprciienfive mind takes a more fubiiii^e view of human natyre than he can obtain from the heiphts of Verfaiiles or St, James's, rejoices at the fpedtacle which every where prefents itielf of newiy-difFuled happinefs, and hails his feliow man, dilcncum- bered of tiioff paltry diftindions that dtbaled and difguifed him. Such a man — with heart-felt fatisfadicn re- peals that energetic, and in let^ard to this country, prophetic fentence of our immortal poet. " Methinks I fee in my mind a noble and puifiant nation, touring herfelf like the ftrcng man after fleep j and fhaking her invincible locks . — Methinks I fee her, an eagle mewing her 66- DESMOND. her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the t'ull mid day be-^m ; purging and un- fcaling her long abuied tight at thefoun z'la t'.f. If of heavenly radiance, while the whole flock of timorous tsnd nnify birds, w'vh thofe that love the tw;light, fluiter about, amazed at what Ihe means arid in iheir envious gabble, would prognofticite a year of fedt* and Ichiims*."— Afti r this, my friend, 1 w 11 n( w add a word of my own.— M V next letter w '1 ^ive \ ou fome of the converfation of ^yIonlfleurl. When (hall I hear from you. - And when will you indulge me With fome account of your neighb mrs. — Pray forget not what, even in this fcene, is ftill neareft the heart Of your's, L. DESMOND, * MiltoD OD the liberty of unlicenfed printing. LET- DESMOND. 67 LETTER Vm. TO MR. BETHEL. Paris, July io, 1790. MONTFLEURT, with whom I have pafied many pleafant and inHrud^ive hours fince I have been here, has defired me to go with him to his eftate on the banks of the Loire, about fifteen miles from Lyons, where bufinefs will foon call him. From thence, he propofes taking me to the chateau of his unclf. the ci-devant Count d'Hautevillc in Auvergne, where i am to witnels the pangs of aiiftocracy, reludtantly and proudly yielding to a necelfity which it exe- crates ; and my friend, afterwards, accompa- nies me to Marfeilles, where, I believe, I fhall embark foi Italy, or, pt^ihaps, for the Archi- pelago — 1 know n.)t which — It depends on I know not what. (There is a fentence a little in the Waverly ftyle) — 1 was, however, going to fay, that it depends on the Itate of my mind, whether my abfcnce from England (hall be longer or fhorter ; If 1 could return to fee Geraldine 69 DESMOND. Geraldine happy, and not to regret that ftie is happy with Vtiney. — If I could fi°tl, when 1 behold her, all thdt difmtcrened afTectiun, which the purity of her ch^radtcr oii^ht to inf^. le, without forming wi/hes ami hopes that ferve only to torment me, 1 would return thiough Ii. ly in a few months to Lngjand. — V ou tell me abitnce will effect all this, and reftore me lo reafon. — I rather hope it than believe it; and even, amidft this intert-fting fccne, 1 catch my l'=^lf con- tinually c.irryin.j my thoughts to hn^idnd ; and imagining where Cjerald;ne I'^—and enquiring whether Ihe has not new fources of uneafinefs in tliC encrealing diffipation of her hufband. W hat attradlions for me has her very name. — It is with difficulty i recall my pen, and my wandering ipirits, to tndeavour to ficoiledt, whether I told you how much difturbed poor Waverl) was at the French poft-hor(es and car- riages, wifh which we travelled from Dunkirk j and how often he curled his improvident hafte, which had madt him (et out without his own horfes and carriage**. — At Abbeville, he feemed ftrongly difpofed to have i'ent Anthony back to have fetched them; and, at Amiens, Ibll more inclined to return and bring them himlelt ; nor had he quite fettled the debate when I came back from an abfence, that was occafioned by the fettlement of mj poor protegee and her chil- dren, which i managed with Itfs difficulty than I expected. — All this trifling 1 could bear from Wavcrly, and forgive it as'boyifh folly. But it provokes tny ipleen to fee a fellow have no more idea of the impt-rtaiice of the prtfent period in France — if ever he can be brought to think about it at all, it is only to raife a debate, whether be fiiould have refigned his title calmly, had •DESMOND. 69 had he been a French nobleman ? — which ufually terminates in the wife clecLration, that he (hould have thought it a litde hard. Now will you pique yurfelf upon your faga- city in forefceinj that I (hould be fometimes peevilh at the foibles of my fellow-traveller j it is, however, merely a tranfitory difpleafure, and one th'iug' t of Geraldine diflipates it at once. — Since We ha^e been at Paris, there is fo much to enia»e him that he has been verv little wiih me ; and here are feveral Englimmen of his acquamtancp, who have taken the trouble of de-iding for him, off my hands; all my care being to help to keep him, as much as poflible, from ihe gaming houies, in obedience to his fifter's wifhes, which are my laws. While he faunters away his time in a morning in the Palais Royal^ and in the evening at the theatre*;, and in fuppers with the adtrefles, I am deeply, and more deeply interefled by the politics of the country. Montfleuri pafles much of his time with me; and, therefore, I will give you a fkctch of his character and his hiftory. He is now about five-and-thirty, a fine manly figure, with a countenance ini^enuous and com- manding. — He has been a fop, and ftill retains a fomethuig of it in his drefs and manner, but it is veiy little v'fi 'le, and not at all difgufting i perhaps, lefs fo than that negligence which many of his countrymen have lately affc£ted, as if determined, in trifles, as well as in matters of more confequence, to chai^ge characters with us. 1 he father of Monrfleuri died in America, and as an only Ion, he was the darling of his mother; who, being anxious that her daughters, of whom Ihe had four, mii^ht not JO DESMOND. not be an incumbrance on an eftate which his father had left a good d^aJ embarrafled, compel led the f.'cond and the younijeft of them to become nuns; and married the eldeft and the third, who were remarkably beautiful, to the jfirft men who offered —Montfleuri had no fooner the power by the new rt-gulations, than he took his young- eft fifter, who is not yet eighteen, from the con- vent, where {he was on the point of taking the vows j and, to the fecond, who has taken them, he offers an eftablifhment in his own houfe, if file will leave her monaftery, which is near his eftate in the Lvonois. — To conquer her fcruples and to prevail upon her to return to his houfe, is part of his immediate bufincfs in that coun- try — His mother, whole miitaken zeal he re- veres, and for vvhofe fondnefs, however unjuO, he is grateful, has been dead a few months, and left him at liberty to follow the generous dictates of his heart. It is not fo eafy for him to break the cruel bonds which that fatal partiality put on his other fifter ; 1 mean the third, for the tldeft i": a wi- dow, — I'his [bird filler, who is called Madame de iJoifbelle, Iha.e feen j and, in finding her a very lovely and intertfting woman, have, with extreme concern, tieard that her hufband is one of the nioft worthUfs charadtcrs in France ; where, howev- r, he is not at prefent, being a fier arijhcrute^ and havmg quitted his country lathtr ihan behold it fr;'e. Mau.:me de Boifbcile, is now, therefore, at the hotel cf her brotncr, with IVIademoilelle Montfleuri, his younger lifter ; and ihey <.ie togo with us to Monifl.uri in a few days. I was jefterday with Monifieu!i at a vifit he n)ade to a family of lalhion, where, in the even- DESMOND. 71 ing, people of all parties aflcmble ; and where the^lal^y of the houfe piques herfelf upon being a bel efprity and giving to her guefts the utmoll freedom of converfaiion. When we went in, a young abbe.^ who feemed to have an excellent opin on of his own abilities, was defcanting on the injuftice of what had been done in regard to the clergv. — The fneering tone in which he defcribed the National Affembly, by the name of " ces Mcffieurs qui ont pris la peine de nous reformer,^'* and the turn of his dif- courle, made it evident, that under a conrtrained or, at leaft, an afFeilrd moderation and cano'our, he concealed principles the moft inimical and malignant to the revolution. — His difcourie was to this efFe6l. *' In every civilized country, there is no doubt of the fupremacy of the church;, more efpecially in this, where, ever fince the baptifm of Clovis, it has made one of the great princi- ples of the ftate. — .All ecclefiaftical property, therefore, ought undoubt dly to be facred j and, to invade it, is to commit facrilege. I will nor go into fcriptiiral proofs of this axiom, I will only fpealc of the immorality and injuftice of thofe meafures which have been taken aaainfl It. It is well known, that much of the reve- nues of the church ?.riie from gifts ; from lega- , cies given by Clovis and his pious fucceffbrs ; or, by other htgh and iHuftrious perfons, to raife houfes of p:e;y, where the reclufe and religious might pray for the repofe of the fouls of thele (.minent perfoii*. — lo fulfil thefe pur- porfes, a certain number of men, renouncing the honours and cmoJuments of the world, have * Thofe gentlemen v.- ho have taken the trouble to reform us. given ^2 DESMOND. given their lives to this holy occupation ; and is it not juft theyihould enjoy the lot they have thus chcfen in peace? Is it not juft that, if they have reOgned the pleafures of this world, they fbould be allowed its necefTarieSj while they are fmoothing the paiTage to, or fecuring the happi- nefs of the other, for thofe, who truft to their fandity and their prayers ? — Befides, permit nae to remark, that many of the monaftic eftates have been wafte lands, which have been culti- vated and reclaimed by their former poflefTors ; that, among the various focieties of religious men, many have well earned their fupport, by undertdking the education of youth, while others have been employed in the charitable office of redeeming flaves from captivity. — Perhaps there mijiht be fome little difproportion between the emoluments poflVfied by the fuperior and inferior cler""y ; but it was always poflihle for thefe lat- ter to rife by their zeal and good conduci:; and, I muft be permitted to think, that rr.rjjleitrs nos reformateurs^ have not enough confidcred wh.it thev were doing j when inliead of re(ftif\ine, with a tender hand, any little errors in the eccle- fiaftic^il order, they have deftroyed it ; inftead of pruning the tree, they have torn it up fc^rci- bly by the roots. -^If the nation wz.^- dijirelfed in its'revenues, by — by — by 1 knov? not what caufe, the clergy offered four hundred millions of livres* towards its afnftancc — a generous and noble olfer, which ought to have been accept- ed." — The abbe ce Jed fpeaking with the air of a man, who thought he had not only produced arguments, but fuch as it would be impolMble * Making upwards of fixteen and an half millions fteiling. to to controvert.— —•Montfleuri, however, who fccmcd of another opinion, thus anfwered him. ** You have afTerted, Sir, that in all civi- lized countries, the church forms a fupreme branch of the legiflature. — This is furely not the fad: I will not, however, enter into a difcuf- fion of how far it is fo in other countries, or hswfar it ought to be fo in any, but reply to the arguments which you have deduced from its power in our own. — You muft allow me to re- mark, that the antiquity of an abufe is no rea- fon for its continuance — And if the enormous wealth of the clergy be one, it ought not to be perpetuated, unlefs better reafons can bebrought in its favour, than that it com nenced at the con- verfion and baptifm of Clovis ; who, guilty of horrible enormities, and ftainej with blood, was taught to hope, that, by eretSting churches, and endowing tflonafteries, the pardon of heaven might be obtained for his crimes: and, in doing fo, he certainly did not make a bad bargain for himfelf ; for it coft hlra only that of which he robbed his fubjedh. It was with their toil and mifery he thus purchafed the abfolution which the monks gave him for murder and oppreffion — It was their tears, and their blood, that ce- mented the edifices he raifed*. I believe the fame may be faid of the foun- dations made by thofc mon.irchs, whom you call his pious fucceflbrs. The weak bigot Louis the Seventh — the ferocious fanguinary monfter Louis the Eleventh, are, I fuppofe, among the moft eminent of the lift. — —Of what efficacy thofe prayers might be, that were thus obtainedj, * Some fentences here arc drawn from a little Prepch pa«' phlet, entitled *■' Ltttrr «mx Arijirtbtotrate Fran^itiP Vol, L E I fliaiv 74 : DESMOND. I ihall fay nothing, fince that is matter of opi- nion. — It is plain, however, that the nation does not now believe them ufeful to its welfare, and therefore, with great propriety, turns into another channel, that wealth, which it no longer deems beneficial in this. I think you will not deny that the moft ufeful of the clergy are the cures^ who live on their cures; whofe time fhould be given up to the really chriftian and pious purpofes of inftrudling the poor, vifiting the fick, and relieving the temporal neceflities of their parifhioners, by fuch means as they poflefs ; though it too often happened that they had hardly wherewithal to fupply themfelves with the necefTarics their humble manner of life required. — An error, in the diftribution of mo- ney appropriated to the church, which in the prefent fyftem, will, I apprehend, be remedied. I cannot agree with you, that the tree is torn up by the roots: I fhould rather fay, that its too luxuriant branches, which prevented the production of wholefome fruit, are reformed ; and the whole reduced nearer to the proportion, which may fecure it from, being deflroyed by the ftorms that pafs by, through the difpropor- tion of its head. — You have, Sir, declined en- tering into thofc fcriptural proofs of their facred naturej which you intimated were to be brought in fupport of the ancient eftablifhments; a for- ^tunate circumflance for me, as on that ground I muft have felt my inferiority. — But, from what I know of the fubjcdt, 1 have always fuppofed, that whatever fpiritual refemblance there might be between the primitive fathers of the church and their prefent fuccefTors, there was certainly very little in their temporal conditions. It docs not appear ever to have been the expcdlation of the DESMOND. 7^; the faints and martyrs, that thofe who followed them in their holy calling, fhould become tem- poral princes, or poflefs fuch immenfe revenue* as the higher clergy enjoyed in this country, of whom, you know. Sir, that there were fome whofe yearly incomes amounted to eighty, an hundred, two, three, four hundred thoufand livres a year. As to that ranlc of them who lived in coji- vents, I will not enquire whether piety or idle- ncfs decided their vocation — I will believe that it may, in numerous initances, have been the former motive — and that in others, the unhappy, or the guilty, might feek, in thefe retreats, (bel- ter from the mil'eries of life, or leifure to make their peace with heaven. — But men, carried into religious retirements by fuch motives, would probably be content with mere iiecefl'aries of. life, which are not taken from thenij it is not therefore thefe men who complain.— To the monks, I am difpofed to al'ow all you can urge in their favour, as to thee diication of youth, and the redemption of prifon r«, though thefe me- rits, and particularly theljtter, have been much difputed (probably from the mifreprefentation that have been made of the manner of executing thefe charges) — I will go farther, and enumerate one obligation the world owes them, which you have over-looked, or do not think it of confequence enough to mention. — I mean, that to them wc are indebted for the prefervation of thofe pre- cious relicts of antiquity, which, but for the fecurity which fuperltition enabled them to give, would have perifhed in the ferocious rurbultnce of the dark ages. Bat, Sir, with all the difpo- fition imaginable^ to allow the monaflic infti- tuiion all the honour they can aflume, I ftiU E a tanno» 76 X> B S M O N D. cannot be of opinion that the good works they ' have given birth to, even in their utmoft ex- tent, balance the various evils which ihefe com- munities occaHon to the nation that fupports them. As to the mendicant orders, furely the fuppreflion of them cannot be complained of.— The vow of poverty taken by capucins^ recollets, &c. &c. may now be executed in humble pri- vacy, for which the ftate will provide during the lives of thofe have taken thefe vows, and they will no longer be in a degraded condition of life, which muft be a continual tax to the pious, while it gave to the light-minded a fub- jci a!k the hufbandman, whofe labours were coldly and relu^antly performed before, when ihtfermiers- gtneral^ and the intcndants of the provinces, devoured two-thirds of their labour, if they do not proceed more willingly znd more profpe- roufly to cultivate a foil from whence xhoiz lo- cufts are driven by the breadth of liberty ? En- quire of the citizen, the mechanic-, if he repofes not more quietly in his houfe from ihe certainty that it is not now liable to be entered by the marechaujfies^ and that it is no longer poffible for hi.T» to be forcibly taken out of it by zlettre de cachet., in the power of a minifter, or his fe- cretary, his fecretary's clerk, or his miftrefs ? Let the voice of common fenfe anfwer, whether the whole nation has gained nothing in its dig- • Ce gouvernement ferait digne des Hottentot?, /^y/ Vol- taire, daos lequel il leiolt pcniis a un ctriain nombre d'hom* rnes de dire, c'eft a ceux qui trav'aillent a payer— Nous ne de» voirsrien payer, parceque nous fommes oiiits. nity^ So DESMOND. nity, by obtaining the right of trial by jury, by the reform in the courts of judicature; where, it is well known, that formerly, every thing was given to money or to favour, and to equity and juftice, nothing ?— As to the prejudice that allthefe alterations have been to the manners of fociety, to that, indeed, I have nothing to fay. I muft lament that, in fhaking off the yoke, wc have been fo long reproached for wearing, we have not taken care to preferve, unfaded, all thofe elegant flowers with which it was deco* rated. The complaint, perhaps, is well found- ed, for I have heard it before ; and, particularly from the ladies of your country, Sir ; to whom, 1 am afraid, the name of a Frenchuian will hereafter give no other idea than that cf a fa- vage; a misfortune which, as I greatly admire the Englifh ladies, nobody can niore truly regret than 1 fhall.— But I fhall tire you, Sir, by ihus dwelling on a fubjedt which you have jufloblerved is very ennuyanl ; and, therefore, wjU leave you to Monfieur I'Abbe de Bremont, whcfe ideas, on public matters, feem more happily to meet your own." Montfietiri tlien v/alfred away, and, with me, joined the paity ui tlie lady of the houle, who was at play in another room.— Ihe converfa- tion, round the table, took another turn, and we foon afterwards went away ; and, as the evening was warm, ftrolled into the Luxembourg Gar- dens, where my friend continued, as 1 will relate in a future letter, to fpeak on the predifpofing caufes of the revolution — and on its eiFedls. I am fo late now, as to the poft, that I have only time to entreat you to write to me imme- diately, that I may receive your letter before I leave DESMOND. 8l leave Paris, which will be within thefe fif- teen days. — The ten laft have pafTed without my receiving a fingle line from you, — Adieu ! dear Bethel, Your*s truly, LIONEL DESMOND. L jE X. 82 DESMOND. LETTER IX. TO MR. BETHEL, Paris, Auguft 4, 1 790, I T is very uneafy to me, my dear Bethel, to be fo long without hearing from you. — 1 am willing to believe, that you are abfent from Hartfield, and wandering with my little friends, Harry and Louifa, on one of your ufual fum- iner tours ; and that, therefore, you have not received my letters, and know not whither to direct. — I would, indeed, rather believe any thing than that you have forgotten me, unlefs it be, that illncfs has prevented your writing, Waverly has had only two letters from his youngeft After fince he left England j and they hardly mention the Verney family, as Fanny Waverly is with her mother at Bath, where they ufually refide. Were my heart lefs deeply interefted for my friends in England, I fhould be quite abforbed in French politics ; £nd, could thofe friends be even for a little while fupplied by foreign con- nections, DESMOND. 83 ne£lions, the family of Moiitfleuri would be that where I fliould chufe to feek. them. — But the tender iotereft 1 feel for fome individuals in England, no time, no change of fcene can wea- ken j my heart •* Siill to my country turns with cejfelels pain, And drags at each remove a lengihening chain. '"• I will not indulge this train of thought; it will be better to continue to relate the converfa- tion I had with Montfleuri in the latter part of that evening, of which I defcribed the beginning in my laft letter. As we walked together towards the Luxem- bourg Gardens, he afked me if I knew the young Englifhman, whofe argument, in defence of the enormous revenues of ihe bifhops, was fo very convincing. — " Not even by name," anfwered I ; " and fo far I am from wifhing to enquire, that I would 1 could forget having heard fuch frivolous folly in my native lan- guage." — Montfleuri fmiled at the warmth with which I fpoke. '* I. can forgive," faid he, *' the {hort view of an unexperienced boy juft come from his college, or the trifling inconfe- quence of a mere petit maitre^ who knowing nothing beyond what the faunterers in a coffee- houfe, or the matrons of a card-table have taught him to repeat by rote ; talks merely as a child recites his lelFon, without being capable of af- fixing one idea to the fentences he utters. — Such people are perfedtiy harmlefs, or rather bring into ridicule the caufe they attempt to defend j but, .when 1 meet, as loy often i have done. » Coldf-uUh. En !ifl.- ©4 D E S M O N D. Engli(hmen of mature judgment and folid abi- lities, fo loft to all right principles as to depre- ciate, mifreprefent, and condemn thofe exerti- ons by which we have obtained that liberty they afFedl fo feduloufly to defend for themfelves ; when they declaim in favour of an hierarchy fo fubverfive of all true freedom, either of thought or adlion, and fo inimical to the welfare of the people, and pretend to blame us for throwing off thofe yokes, which would be intolerable to themfelves, and which they have been accuf- tomed to ridicule us for enduring : I ever hear them with a mixture of contempt and indigna- tion, and reflect with concern on the power of national prejudice and national jealoufy, to darken and pervert the underftanding. " All, however, that I have ever heard from fuch men, has ferved only to prove to me, either that they fear for their own nation the too great political confequence of ours, when our conftii- tution fhall be eftablifhed ; or know and dread, that the light of reafonthus rapidly advancing, which has fiiewn us how to overturn the mafly and cumbrous edifice of defpotifm, will make, too evident, the faults of their own fyftem of government, which it is their particular intcreft to fkreen from refearch and reformation. — Bat how feeble are all the endeavours of this polrti- cai jealoufy on one hand, and the yet obftinate piejudices of papal fuperftition on the other, to obfcure this light in its irrefiftible and certain progrefs ; more rapid and more brilliant from the vain attempt to intercept and impede it. — ■ ** Nefentezvouspas" fays Voltaire very juftly i — ** Ne fentez vous pas^ que ce qui eji jujle^ clair^ ivHent^ eji naturdUmsni t tfpi£ii de tout le rnonde^ ^ que D E S M O N D* 85 fcf que des chimeres ne peuventpas tojoun s'attlrer la.meTtu veneratian?*** The fudden change that has taken place in this country, from the moft indolent fubmiffion to a defpotic government, to the adoption of principles of more enlarged liberty than your nation has ever avowed, appeared (o aftonifh- Ing, and fo unaccountable, to thofe who beheld the event at a diflance, that they believed it could not be permanent. Our national charac- ter, a chara^er given us by Caefar, and which we are laid ftill to retain That vehement, fierce, and almoft irrefif^ible, in the beginning of an aftion, we are foon repulfed and difmayed —Encouraged the perfuafion, that the revolu- tion would prove only a violent popular com- motion j and that when our firft ardour was abated, the fpirit of our ancient government, taking advantage of this well-known difpofition of the French people, would gradually refume its influence ; and perhaps, by a few conceffions of little confequence, induce us to fubmit again to that fyftem, which a momentary frenzy had fufpended. But I, who, though as diffipated as moft men, was neither an unobferving or difmterefted fpecSator of what was paffing, have for fome years feen, that our government was approaching rapidly to its diflolution, and, that many caufes unknown, and unfufpecSled, were filently uniting to accelerate its ruin, *' The advocates for defpoiifm confider the reigns of Henry the Fourth, and Louis the Fourteenth, as evidences in favor of their fyf- * Are you not fenfible, that what is juft, clear, and evident, muft be natuially attended to — Aud tlwt chimeras caanot »1- Ya^s be held in reneraiion ? tem : J^6 O E S M O K D. tem ; but allowing, that the former was an ex- cellent man, and worthy to be entrufted with the power of governing a great people (which can hardly be allowed to Louis the Fourteenth), what a black and hideous lift of regal monfters may be brought to contrail the molt favourable pidtures tnat can be drawn of thefe monarchs. The various murders and aflaffinations which {lain the annals of the lad princes of the Houfe of Valoisj and, above all, the maflacre of St. Bartholemew, rcfledt difgrace on a nation, which, even at that dark period, could tolerate and obey fuch forocious tyrants, andftill more, on the fanguinary fuperftition whicn gave them a pretence to commit thefe enormities. The fame bigotry, however, delivered his infuJted country from the laft of this odious race*; but it oppofed, in his fucccflbr, a man who fcemed born for the political falvation of his people, and who became afterwards the beft king that France ever boafted. Brought up like the mountaineers, over whom only it was once likely he fliould reign, his heart had never been hardened, nor his frame enervated by the flat- teries or luxuries of a court. — He had not been taught, that to be born a king is to be born fomething more than man. *' The admirable difpofitions he had received from nature, were fo much improved in the rigid fchool of adverfity, in which fo many years of his life were palled, that his charader was fixed, and profperity and power could not deftroy thofe fentiments of humanity and good- nefs which made him, throughout his whole leign (even amidll the too libtral indulgence of « Henry the Third. fomc DESMOND. 87 fome weaknefTes and errors) confider the happi> nefs of his people as the firft objedl of his go- vernment. But his life was embittered, and his endeavours for the good of his fubjedts conti- nually oppofed, by the reftlefs fufpicion, and encroaching ambition of the priefts of that reli- gion, to which, to fave the efFufion of his peo- ple's blood, he was a reluctant, and perhaps, not a very fincere convert. Till at length the fame execrable fanaticifm raifed againft him the murderous hand of Ravaillac, and with him periflied the hopes of France j a nation that, had he lived, would probably have pofTefled profperity and happinefs, with a confiderablc portion of political liberty. *' The treafurc that the wife oeconomy of the Due de Sully had amafTed for him, to carry on his projects, which would have fecured a long and univerfal peace, were inftantly, on his death, diflipated among the hungry and (elfifli nobility that furrounded his widow*. " The early part of the reign of the weak and peevifh bigot his fon, Louis the Thirteenth, was marked by a faint attempt to rcftore fome- thing like a voice to the people, by a convoca- tion of les etais generauxf. *' But this was rather an effort of the nobi- lity againft the hated power of the Italian favou- rites, the Conchinis, than meant to reftore to the people any part of their loft rights. " The whole of this reign was rendered odious by the continual wars on the fubjedl of religion^ * Mary of Medicis. + The laft «flemlly of that defcriptioo ihat was calied.in France. , • ■' . V/hich which deluged the country with blood; by the fa£lions, which exifted even in the family of the prince upon the throne; where the mother was armed againft her fon, the fon againft his mo- ther ; and the brothers againft each other. — All pradifing, in turn, every artifice that perfidy and malignity could imagine; and facrificing every thing to their own worthlefs views. When to thefe ruinous circumftances was added an ambitious ariftocracy, ready on every occa- iion to take advantage of the weaknefs of the monarch, and the difcord in his councils, it is eafily feen that nothing but the refolute courage, and ftrong talents of Richelieu could have pre- vented the total dcftruiSlionof France as a mo- narchy; it would, but for him, have been bro- Jcen into fmail republics, and fmall principali- ties; the firft would have been pofleffed by the Huguenots, and the latter by the principal no- bility; who, whenever they oppoied the court, and flew into rebellion, revolted not againft mea- fures, but men. — It was the favourites of Louis the Thirteenth that provoked them, and not the cncreafing oppreffion of the people. — The un- happy and plundered people, who equally the victims of the monarch, the nobles, and the priefts, were pillaged and deft toyed by them all. But the thick cloud of ignorance which co- vered Europe, was yet but flowly and partially rolling away: it was during this period that Galileo was imprifoned in Italy* for his difco- veries in aftronomy ; and that the Defcartes was accufed of impiety and atheifoi. * '• There I vifited," fays Milton, '* the ceiebrited Gali- leo, then poor and old, and a long tirDe a prifoner in the dwa- geon of the Inquil'tion, for daring to think otherwife in aftro- nomy than hi* FrAOcilcan and DomicicaQ licenlers thought." « The DESMOND* 89 " The reign of Louis the Fourteenth was more propitious to knowledge. — His encourage- ment of fcience and literature has, in the im- mortality it has conferred upon him, led many writers to forget the oftentatious defpot, in the munificent patron. — Fafcinated by his manners, dazzled by the magnificence of his public works, and elated by his victories, his people felt for him the moft enthufiaftic attachment, and loved even his vices; vices which the fervile crowd of nobles around him, found it their iniereft to imitate and applaud ; while the priefts alfo made their advantage of thefe errors, obtaining by them the means of diilating to a man who waft at once a libertine and a cievoti.-~-'ThQ revoca- tion of the editSt of Nantz ; the cruel and ab- furd perfecution of the Proteftants, were among the follies that they led him to commit j and depopulaUtd and impoverished his country, which, at his death, fnon after tlic clofe tjf an unfucccfsful war, was in a ftate of almolt total bankruptcy ; yet, fo bigotted were we then to the fyftem of paiTive obtdience, fo attached ta unlimited monarchy, that throughout the long reign of his" great-grandfon,* the murmurs of the people were feeble and difregarded ; though their burthens were intolerable, though they were impofed by a prince who, without any of the virtues of his predecefibr, had more than his vices; and, though the fums thus extorted from the hard hands of patient induUry, were either expended in difgraceful and ill- managed wars, or hviflied in the debaucheries of the molt prof- ligate courtf that modern isurope hag beheld. ♦ Louis the Fifteenth. f See U Vie privee dc Louis XV. From ^0 DESMOND. ,^From the infamous means that to fupport all this, were then pra6lifed to raife money ; from the heavy impofts that were then laid on the country, France has never recovered j but per- haps, in the difcontents which thefe opprefTions created, filent and unmarked as they were, the foundation was laid for the univerfal fpirit of revolt, to which flie is now indebted for her freedom. *' In the mean-time, the progrefs of letters, which Louis the Fourteenth h;id encouraged, was infenfibly difpelling that ignorance that aJone could fecuie this blind obedience. — The prefident, Montefquieu had done as much as a writer, under a defpot, dared to do, towards de- veloping the fpirit of the law;-, and the true prin- ciph;S of govcinfoenti ari'i, though the multi- tud, heeded not, or underftood not his abftradT; reafaning, he taught thofe to think, who gra- dually difleminated his opinions, Voltaire at- tacked defpotifm in all its holds, with the powers of refiftlefs wit. — Roufleau with matchlefs elo- quence :— and, as thefe were authors who, to the force of reafon, added the charms of fancy, they were univerfally read, and their fentiments were adopted by all clafles of men. ^' The political maxims and oeconomical fyftems of Turgot, and the application of thef3 principles by Mirabeau, excited a fpirit of en- quiry, the refult of which could not fail of being favourable to the liberties of mankind; and fuch was the difpofition of the people of France, when the ambitious policy of our miniftry fent our foldiers into America to fupport the En- glifh colonifts in their refiftance to the parent ftatc." I here DESMOND. 91 1 here interrupted my friend, by remarking, that (o deep is the refentment which the Engli/h ftill entertain againft his nation for this inter- ference, that I had heard many rejoicing over the moft unpromifing picture they could draw of the prefent ftate of France} and, when they have imagined the country deluged with blood, and perifliing by famine, have faid — '* Oh ! the French defcrve it all for what they did againft us in America." — " And yet, my dear Sir,'* anfwered Mont" fieuri, *' thefe good countrymen of your's are a little inconfiderate and inconfiftent: inconfi- deratc in not reflecting, that the interference which feems fo unparclonahle, was the ^^t of the cabinet, not of the penple, who had no choice, hut went to be fi^ot ac for the liberties of Ame- I'ica, without having any liberty of their own i and, inconfirtcnt inafniuch, as they row ex- claim againft the refolution we have mace to <^e-» prive our monarchs of the power of mf.king war; a power which they thus complain has been fo unwarrantably exerted-— Thefe are fome of the many abfurdities into which a refolution to defend a pernicious fyftem, betrays its ableft advocates. However, our court has found its punifbment ; blinded by that reftlefs defire of conqueit, and their jealoufy of the hnglifh, which has ever marked its politics, our govern- ment did not reflect that they were thus tacitly encouraging a fpirit fubvtrfive of all their views ; nor foreiee, that the men who were fent out to aflifl in the prefervation of American freedom, would foon learn that they wtre de- graded by being themfelves flaves ; and would return to their native country to feel and to aflerC their right to be themfelves free. « I was '* I was then a very young man ; but my father, who was a colonel in the regiment of Naflau, and who died in America, took me with him in defpite of the tears and entreaties of my mother — 1 faw there fuch fcenes as have kft an indelible impreiTion on my mind, and an utter abhorrence for all who, to gratify their own wild ambition, or from even worfe mo- tives, can deliberately animate the human race to become butchers of each other.-— Above all, it has given me a deteftation of civil war, for the fierceft animofity with which the French and Englifh armies have met in the field, was mildnefs and friendfhip in comparifon of the ferocity felt by the Englifh and Americans, men fpeaking the fame language, and originally of the fame country, in their encounters with each other. I faw, amidft the almoft undifci- plined Americans, many inftances of that en- ll.ul'iaftic courage which animates men who contend for ail that is dear to them, againft the iron hand of injuftice i and, 1 faw thefe exer- tions made too often vain, againft the difci- plincd mercenaries of defpotifm j who, in learn- ing to call them rebels, feemed too often to have forgotten that they were men. How little did I then imagine, that a country which feem- ed to be devoted to deftrudtion, could ever be in fuchaftate as that in which I have fince be- held it, — Yes, my friend, I revifited this coun- try two years fmce, in which fourteen years before 1 had ferved as an enfign, when it was the feat of war. — 1 fee ic now recovered of thofe wounds, which its unnatural parent hoped were mortal, and in the moit.flounihing ftate of:po- llticai heakh^ " What D t IT M d R O. 91 ** What then^ecomes of the polittcat credtt of thofe who prognofticated, that her produc- tions would be unequal to her wants ; her le- giilatures to her government.— I know not how far the mother-country is the worfe for this dif- - union with her colonies — but, I am fure, they are the better ; and nothing is more falfc than that idea of the veteran ftatefman, that a coun- try under a new form of government, is deftr- tute of thofe who have ability to dire6l it.— That they may be unlearned in the deteflable chicane of politics, is certain j but they are alfo uncorrupted by the odious and pernicious maxims of the unfeeling tools of defpotifm ; honeft minifters then, and able negociators will arife with the occafion.— They have ap- peared in America; they are rifing in France — they have, indeed, arifen ; and, when it is feen that talents and application, and not the fmile of a miftrefs, or a connexion with a pa- raiite, give claims to the offices of public truft j men of talents and application will never b» wanting to fill mem." Montfleuri here paufed z moment; and a fentence of Milton's, of whom you know I am an inceflant reader, immediately occurred to me as extremely applicable to what he had been faying ; I repeated it to him in Englifh, which he underftands perfe€^}y well. " For, when God (hakes a kingdom, with {Irong and healthful commotions, to a general reforming, it is not untrue that many fedlaries and falfe teachers are then bufieft in feducing: but yet more true it is, that God then raifes, to his own work, men of rare abilities and more than common indufkry ; not only to look back and revife what hath been taught hereto- fore. 9+ D B S M O N 0. fore, but to gain further, and go on feme new and enlightened fteps in the difcovery of truth."* Here our conference was ended for this time, at lead, on politics. We took a few turns among the happy groups who were either walking, or fitting, to enjoy the moft beau- tiful moon-light evening I ever remember to have feen j and I then returned to my hotel, and went to my repofe, determined to indulge the pleafing hope of having letters from England on the morrow, as it was poft day j but, I am again moft feverely difappointed. — Waverly, however, has letters from his fifters — they lay on the table in the room where we ufually fit, for he is gone with, I know not what party, to Chantilly. — I fee that one of them is directed by the hand of Geraldine.— — I have taken it up an hundred times, and laid it down again— It is fealed with an impreifion of the Verney arms — it is heavy, and feems to contain more than one or two fheets of paper j perhaps there is a letter in it for me. — Yet, why fhould I , flatter myfelf ? — The other letter is from Fanny Waverly — I recolledl her hand, for it a little re- fembles her fifter's. — Would to heaven Waverly was come back — He went on a fudden, and named no time for his return ; and my time, ihefe laft two days, has been waflcd in the moft uneafy expectation ; for 1 can think of nothing but the purport of thefe letters. — If they aflure me of the health and content of Mrs. Verney, for I will try to break myfelf of calling her Geral- dine (becaufe I always^ long to add my to that beloved name) — I will endeavour to account, * Miltoaontbe Liberty of unliccnfed Priating. deaf D E S M O K D. 9^ dear Bethel, for your filence, by believing that you are travelling with your children; and kt out as cheerfully as I can, with Montfleuri and his fifters, on Monday, which is the day fixed for our departure. — I hoped, a few days ago, that I had determined Waverly to go with us, but he has fince made fome new acquaintance, and has probably fome new fchemes. Adieu ! You know me to be ever moft faithfully your's, LIONEL DESMOND. L E T. ^S B t S M O M D. LETTER X. Montfleuri, Augufl 29, 1 790. AFTER being once more compelled to change my plan on account of the indecifion of Waverly, who did not return to Paris till fome days after he had written to me to fay he fhould be there j he arrived, and I faw thefe letters, which alone would have induced me to wait. — But I was extremely mortified to find, that in- ilead of an account of Geraldine herfelf, it was only a long letter about health and prudence, which Mrs. Waverly, who has the gout herfelf, has employed her daughter to write for her to her fon. In a poflfcript, however, (he adds fome trifling commiffions on her own account, which, as Waverly fet out the next day for Rheims, with the fame fcampering party with whom he was juit returned from Chantilly, he left for me to execute : judge whether I did not undertake them with pleafure, with delight, and whether I regretted the two days longer that were thus pafied in her fervice at Paris. — This circumftance gave me an opportunity of writing to her. — And fo, my dear Bethel, I (hall have a letter from her befoie I quit this place, whi- ther 1 have entreated her to dire<^. Do not now give me one of your grave, cold ]c<5lures — 1 and DESMOND. 97 and blame me for the inconfiftency of flying from my country to conquer a paflion which | ftill take every opporluiiity of cherirtiing. Without this afi^'eclion, 1 feel that my life would fjnlc into taftelefs apathy; and 1 cannot, my rigid Mentor, difcover the immorality of it, in its prefent form. Oit the contrary, I am con- vinced, that my apprehenfioris of rendering myfelf unworthy of the efteem, which, I now believe, Geraldine feels for me, aiSrs upon me as a fort of fecond confcience. — What ought iiot that man to attempt, who dares hope ever to become worthy of her heart?— But I dare not; nor do I ever truft myfelf with fo pre- fumptuous a thought. — Her friendfhip, her ef- teem, may be mine — But I am getting into re- gions, where your cold and calm philofophy cannot, or will not follow me. I return, therefore, to mere matter of fadl ; and to thank you for your long-expedted and long wiihed-for letter. — It is tolerably inter- fperfed with ledures, my goad friend — but I thank you for them, becaufe I know they are the eftiifions of anxious friendfhip — and liiil more, [ thank you for the account you give me of yourfelf, your children, and all other friends, for whom you think i am interefted, except the V^erneys, whpm you cruelly leave out of the lirt — and relative to them, therefore, I form many uneafy conjettures, fo that, inftead of faving me from pain, you have inflidled it ; my appiehenfjons, probably, go beyond the truth; but Geraldine is unhappy, I know {he is. — in -every Knglifti newfpaper that I have feen fince 1 left London, there is fome account of Ver- ney's exploits upon the turf — and of his win- nings or his lolings. — Some of Waverly's ac- •VoL. I, F quaintance, ^8 S £ S M O N 0. qualntance, whom I accidentaHy ceriverftjd with at Paris, fpoke of him in terms of high approbation, as to ufe their own cant, ** a de- vilifli dafhing fellow — a good fellow"' — and fuch epithets as convinced me he is facrificing the happinefs of that lovely woman to the glory of being talked of— —The only fpecies of fame which feems to give him any pleafure. I am now at Montfleuri, in the Lyonois.— Had I not felt, as I travelled hither, a ftrange, uneafy fenfation, which I acknowledged to be a weaknefs, in refle(Sting on the encreafing dif- tance between me and Geraldine; and had I not very uneafy apprehenfions about her brother, who is gone with a fet of very diflipated boys, they hardly know whither themfelves, my jour- ney to this place would have been one of the moft agreeable I ever made. 1 have twice before trav^elled the direct road from Paris to Lyons. — Montfleuri, who is the moft cheerful companion in the world, has him- felf a great tafte for rural beauty, and there- fore, though every part of this country is, of courfe, well known to him, he had particular pleafure in turning out of the road to (hew me any view, or building, which he thought worth my obfervation. Our journey, by this means, was of eight days continuance' — and eight days have been feldom more pleafantly pafled. I have faid very little hitherto of Montfleuri's two fifters, who are with us j and who are by no means objedls to be pafled in frlence, in ihie account you wi(h to have of my wanderings. — Though I, you know, " bear a charmed heart," and therefore cannot, like our friend Melthrope, ertliven my narrative with details of my own paffions for a fprightly French woman, or ah eleeant DESMOND. Q9 elegant Italian. I am perfuaded, that were I to be (hewn, in fucceflion, the moft celebrated beauties of all the kingdoms through which I (hall pafs, I thus fliould ftill apoftrophife Ge- raldine : •' I fcorn the beauties common eyet adore. The more I view them— feel thy charm* the more.** But I am talking of her inftead of Madame de Boifbelie, who is very beautiful and very un- happy, two circumftances that cannot fail to make her extremely interefting ; perhaps fhe is rendered yet more fo by the unfailing variety of her manner. — There are times when her natu- rally gay fpirits fink under the preflure of mis- fortune ; fometimcs her ill-afix)rted marriage, which has put her into the power of a man altogether unworthy of her ; the embarraflment of his affairs, and the uncertainty of her fate» recur to her in all their force; and (he efcapes from company, if it be poiTibl^, to hide the languor and depreiRon fhe cannot conquer. — During our journey, however, this was not eafily done, and 1 often remarked with pain, thefe cruel refletStions fill her fine eyes with tears, and force deep fighs from her bofom. — ■ But this difpofition was as a palling cloud obfcur- ing the brilliancy of the fummer fun. — The mo- ment her attention is diverted from this mourn- ful and ufelcfs contemplation, by fome naw oh- je£l, or yields to the tender raillery of her bro- ther, who is extremely fond of her, the gayeft fmiles return again to her exprefiive counte- nance ; her eyes regain their luftre, and Gm pafles almoil inftantaneoufly from languid de- jeition, to moft brilliant vivacity. — Without F 2 having lOO DESMOND, having ever had what we call a good education, Jofephine (for I have learned from her brother, and at her own defire, to drop the former appel- lation of Madame de Boifbelle) Jofephine has much of that fort of knowledge which makes her a pleafant companion ; and a fund of native wit, which, though it is rather fparkling than impreflive, renders her converfation very de- lightful. — She has a pretty voice, and plays well on the harp. —Yet all the does has fo much of national characfler in it, that it would become only a French woman, and 1 think I fhould not admire one of my own countrywomen, who poflTcfTLd exadly the perfon, talents and manners of my friend's hder. — I do not know whether you perfeclly underfland me, but i underftand myfelf; though, perhaps, I do not explain my- felf clearly. The little mild Julie is yet too young to have any very decided chara(3:er. — The religious prejudices which Ihe received in her early in- fancy (for at nine years old her mother, deter- mined to make her a nun) have funk fo deeply in her mind, that I much doubt whether they will ever be erafed. Ihis has given to her dif- pofition a melancholy cafl, which, though it renders her, perhaps, interefting to ftrangers, her brother fees with concern.— I perceive that there is, at time-, a very painful flruggle in her mind, between her wifh to obey and gratify him in entr.'-ing iut® the world, and her fears of ofFending Heaven by having failed to renounce it; and, i am afraid, there are moments which an/ abfurd bigot might take advantage of, to perfuade her, that fne fliouid yet return to that ftate whither Heaven has fummoned her, Julie,. DESMOND. 101 - Julie, however, is extremely pretty, though quite in another ftyle of beauty from her fiHcr. • — VVaverly admired her, on firft feeing her, as much as it is in his nature to admire any wo- man ; and, for three days, I fancied it poffible that the fair and pcnfive nun might tix this vagrant fpiiit. I even began to confider, how (if the affair fhould become more ferious) Ge- raldine, as much as fhe wifhes her brother mar- ried, would approve of his chufing a woman of another country, and another religion from his own ; and, I had fettled it with myfelf, to give no encouragement to the progrels of his attachment, till 1 knew her fentiments. I might, however, have faved myfelf all my wife refolutions, for Waverly immediately af- terwards making fome fortunate additions to his number of Lngliih acq'jsirjtance (Mr. Chet- wood, the able advocate for cpiicopalian luxury is one) has fince pailed all his time among them ; and feems to have loft, in their company, every impreffion that the gentle Julie, and hef fafcinating, though very impertct^n. Engliih, had made. — He has promifed, either to come hither within ten days, or to meet me at Lyons in the courfe -of a fortnight ; but I do. not expedl that he will do either the one or the other, I do not know whether you love ttie dtfcrip- tion of places, or whetlier I am very well qua- lified to undertake it, it you do. — However, I will endeavour to give you an idea of the habi- tation of Montflcuri, and of the country round it, where his liberal and enlightened fpirit has, ever fince he became his own mafler, been oc- cupied in foftening the har{h features of that fyjUm of government^ to ivhich only the poverty and mifery J02 D B S M O N D. mifery of fuck a country as this could^ at any ttme^ he owing. The chateau of Montfieuri is an old building, but it is neither large nor magnificent for having no predilection for the gothic gloom in which his anceftors concealed their greatnefs, he has pulled down every part of the original i^rudlurc, but what was a<£tually ufeful to him- felf; and brought the houfe, as nearly as he couldj into the form of ot^.e of thofe houfe?, which men of a thoufand or twelve hundred a year inhabit in England. its lituation is the \x\oi\ delicious that luxuri- ant fi;ncy could imagine. — It ftands on a gentle rife, tiie river there, rather broad than deep, makes almofl a circuit round it at the difiance of near half a mile. — The oppofite banks rife Trrimcd-atc;y on the fouth fje into ftcep hills o( fantaHic forms, clothed with vines. — They arc naturally indeed, little more than rocks ; but wherever the foil was deficient, theinduftryof ihe labourers, who are in that diftridt the tenants of Montfieuri, has fupphed it; and the wins produced in this little mountainous traft is par- ticularlydelicious. Thefe pointed hills fuddenly finlc into a valley, or rather a narrow pafs, which thro* tufts of Cyprus that grow among the rocks, gives a very fingular view into the coun- try beyond them. — Another chain of hills then Tife i and thefe laft were the property of a con- vent of monks, whofe monaftery is not more than a mile from the houfe of my friend. — In the culture of thefe two adjoining ridges of vineyards, may be ken the efi^e(Sls of the ma- nagement of the different mafters to whom they belong. — The peafantsoa the domain of Mont- fieuri are happy and profperous, while in the line O B S M O N p. 103 line of country immediately adjoining to his, though the good fathers have taken tolerable care of their vineyards, has every where el(e the appearance of being under a languid and relu(5tant cultivation. — On the top of one of the higheft of thefe hills is the ruin of a large ancient building, of which the country people tell wonderful legends. 1 have never yet ex- plored it, but it is a fine obje£l from the win- dows of this houfe ; and I rejoice, that Mont- fleuri, who has purchafed the eflate of the con- vent, will now be able to preferve it in its pre- fent romantic form, from the farther depreda- tions of the neighbouring hinds, who, when- ever their fears yielded to their convenience, were in habits of carrying away the materials for their own purpofes; and have, by thofe ttieans, done more than time towards d.-flroying this monument of aniiquity. — I, who love, ).ll attachment to his own country, or for fome reafoii or other does not willi to return to it, accipied the propofed accommc'dation, with fome httle changes, according to a plan of his own. — He tuld Montfleuri, that though he had no great attachment to any of the members of tbe (bciety, yet that there would be fomething particularly comfortlefs in refiding alone, where he had been accuftomed to fre (o many of his brethren around him ; and that, though he in real ty courted folilude in prcre;ence to fociety, it was not exactly there he wifhci to enjoy it ; but, that if Monifieurl would allow the work- men employed about the houl'e to raife for him, in a lequeflered fpot which he pointed out, a fort of hermitage after a plan of his own, he would be happy to avail himielf of his bounty, and to end his days on his eftate. — 1 nei.d hardly fay, that my friend moil readily acceded to his vyiihes; and, during his late abfence, father Cypriano has, on the rocky holders of the river, wnichare there concealed bv fome of • he thickcft woods i have fLcn in France, built an he; mitage oxadily correfponding to the ideas I had firmed of thofe fort of habitations from Don Qii'Xi;te or Gil Bias. — It IS partly an excavation in the hard land rock that rifes above the river 5 if is lituaied about two hundred yards from it, and is partly no D E 5 M O hf D. partly compofed of hard wood, which fupports the roof, and enlarges the fcite of the building (if building it may be called.) The outward room is paved with flat ftones, and the inner is boarded j there, is his little bed, his crucifix, and two chairs. — The other apartment contains only a table j the feats of turf and mofs, that furround it, and a fort of recefs where he puts his provifions, which are furniflied him daily from Montfleuri, with an attentive liberality, of which the good anchoret even complains, though he never refufes it.— Montfleuri tells me that ihere is fomething Angular in the hiftory of this venerable man, with which he is not ac- quainted ; but that, as he feems very commu- nicative, he will endeavour, fome day when we are together, to engage him in an account of his life. This anchoret, as a being to which we are never accuftomed (unlefs it be to a hired or to a wax hermit in fome of our gardens) has led me away ftrangely from what 1 was going to tell you of the ufe to which Montfleuri has deftined the diflblved monafl:ery. He has fitted it up as an houfe of induftry ; not to confine the poor to work, for he abhors the idea of compulfion, but to furnifh with eafy and ufeful employment, fuch as by age, or in- firmity, or infancy, are unfitted for the labour of the fields. — And h:re he a]fo means that the "robuft peafant may, when the rigour of the fea- fon, or any other circumftance deprives him of occupation abroad, find fomething to do within; nothing, however, in the way of manufadlures is ti> be atiempted, farther than ftrong coarfe articles, ufeful to themfelves, or in the cultue of the efiate. — 1 think the ficetch Montfleuri has DESMOND. Ill has given me of his plan an admirable one; it is yet only in its firft infancy; but, if it fuc- ceeds, as I am furc it muft, 1 will eftablifti fuch an houfe on my own eftate, whenever I fettle there. Whenever I fettle there! — Ah ! Bethel, that expreflion recalls a thoufand painful ideas from which I have been vainly trying to efcape.-— Alas ; I fhall never fettle there ! or, if ever I do, it will be as a folitary and infulated being, whofe pleafures will foon become merely animal and felfifh, becaufe there will be none to (hare them.— A being who, though weary of the world, will find no happinefs in quitting it. — Methinks I fee myfelf rambling at four or five- and-fifty, over grounds which I fhall have none to inherit; and furveying, with the dull eye of torpid apathy, improvements which, when I am gone, there will be none to admire j and which will then, perhaps, " Pafs to a fcrivener, or a city knight." Yes, I (hall be, I doubt not, that forlorn and felfifli being, an old batchelor ; one, who having no dearer ties to fweeten his weary ex- iftence, is furrounded by hungry para/itical re- lations, or is governed in his fecond childhood by his houfe- keeper. You will fmile, I fuppofe, at this apoftrophe, and would even laugh, when you know the moment at which it occur? — when the lovely, the bewitching Jofephine herfelf, is waiting for me to walk with her; and, ** in ihtle ip(>iu\e plains, under this genial fun, where, at this inllant, all flefh is running our, piping;, fi 'oling, and dancing to the vintage, and every flep ihat s taicen, 112 DESMOND. taken, the judgment is furprifed by the imagi- nation."* — How fiial) I refill her? — The firft grapes are to ^e gathered in a {ew days on the oppofite hills; the peafants Tinging the liveliefl airs, have been this evenmg carrying up their implements for this delightful operation ; — Julie and nei brother are gone already to fee them; and Jofephine fent me,-a few moments fmce, a note, in which fhe gaily reproaches me for want of gallantry in thus making her wait this lovely evening. Oh ! were it but Geraldine who ex- pected me ! — were it Geraldine who waited for me, to lend her my arm in this little expedition. —I have once or twice, as Madame de i>oifbclle ha* been walking with me, tried to fancy her Geraldine, and particularly when flie has been in her plaintive moods. I have caught founds that have, for a moment, aided my defire to be deceived — IJut, as the lady herfelf could not guefs what made me io filcnt and inattentive, fome fudden etciittierie not at all in harmony with my tetlings; fome trait, in the charatfter of her country has fuddenly difTol/ed the charm, and awakened me to a full fenie of the lolly i was guilty of. . Bj! i ice, at this mom.ent, Jqfephine her/elf, who conJ-lccnds to beckon to me, and to tx- prefs her impatience at my delay. — Farewell, my friend, I Ihall hardly write ..gain from hence. Ever your's n^ofl faithfully, LIONEL DESMOND. * Sterne. LET- DESMOND. 113 LETTER Xr. TO MR. DESMOND. Hartfjeld, September 20, ** I N thofe fpcriive plains, and under this genial fun, where, at this iniiant, all flefh is Turning out piping, fiddling, ind dancing to the vintage j and every ftep that is taken, the judgment is furprifed by the imagination." — With the lovely Jofephine beckoning to you as you fit at your window ! — and reproaching you for want of gallantry ! — Bravo, my friend ! — This will do — I fee, that though my firft advice did not fucceed, my fecond infallibly will. — " Go, fcaich in Eng- land for fome object worthy of thofe affections which, placed as they are now, can only rferve to render you miferable — Or \i that dots not do — if you ;ire become, through the influence of this romantic attachment, too faftidious for reafon- able happinefs — go abroad, dilltpate vour ideas, inllead of fuffering them to dwell .continually en a hopcltfb purfuit ; and you will find chanse of 1)4 DES^MONP. of place and variety of fcenes are the befl re- medies for every difeafe of the mind." — Thus I preached ; and I now value niyfelf on the fuccefs of my prefcription, though I did not forefee this kind Jofephine, who will undoubt- edly perfedl the cure. — At your age, my good friend, a lovely and unfortunate woman — who probably tells you all her diftrefles — who leans on your arm, and whole voice you endeavour to fancy the tender accents of Geraldine — will, I will venture to prophecy, foon ceafe topleafe you, notwithlianding you " bear a charmed heart," only in the femblance of another. — And as to any engagements, you know, fuch as her having a hufband, and fo forth, thofe little im- pediments '* make not the heart fore" in P^rance. In ikort, 1 look upon your cure as nearly per- fected, and by the time this letter reaches, you, I doubt not, but that you wiii have begun to woiider how you could cvtr take up fuch a no- tion, as of an (Unchangeable and immortal paf- lion, which is a thing never heard or thought of, but by the tender novel writer, and their gerule readers.— Madame de Boifbellefeems the Woman in the world beft calculated to win you from the abfurd fyftem you had built ; and had you been a defcendant of Lord Chefter- field's, and his fpirit prefided over your delHny, he could hardly have led you to a fcene fo fa- vourable to diflultory gallantry, and fo fatal to the immortality of your attachment, as the houfe of Montfteuri. Thus, believing your cure certain, I venture to tell you what 1 know of Verney. — You will ftill, perhaps, receive it with concern; but it will no longer awaken your quixotifm. — You wili nat, I think, iiovy offer yeniey half your eftate DESMOND. 115 eftate to fave his wife from an uneafy moment or ftrip yourfelf of nine or ten thoufand pounds to fupply his deficiencies at Newmarket, where the next meeting would probably create the lame deficiency, and, of courfe, the fame ne- ccflity. Verney, then, I am forry to fay, has at length parted with his eftate in this country: I am more forry to fay, that he has parted with it to Stamford, to whom, as 1 have been lately in- furmed, it has been long mortgaged. The frnal fettlenient of this matter, which has, I find, been fometime in agitation, has happened only within this month j and in con* fequcnceof it, Mr. Stamford, or, 1 fliould ra- ther fay, Sir Robert Stamford, for he is almoft as lately raifed to the dignity of a Baronet, took poftelfion, about ten days iince, of the houfe, wliich he bought ready furni{}K of killing the birds on my 126 DESMOND. dans ie domaine un feul perdrix pour ces gueux du village ; qui ont la liberie infdme de chaffer fur les terresde Monleigneur ie Comted'Haute- ville — Ah ! je les epargnerai bitn, ces marauds, 3a, la peine de prendre legibier, & fije les recon- terai, je lerai bien leur affaire." " Mais comment leur affaire ?" faid Mont- fleuri. — " Eh ! Monfieurle Marquis," anfwer- fd Le Maire, '* c'cff que je pourrais bien, don- ner quelque coups de fuiil a ces coquins." ** Tu as done une vocation decide pour la lanterne?" *' Soit, Monfieur le Marquis, j'aimerai mieux etre pendu par ces gens detef- tables, moi, que de vivre ou ils font mes egaux, Sc ou ils vont a la chaffe." ** You fee, now," faid Montfleuri, turning to me, " the ftyle which even the domeftics of the n o b/ej/e zti'um^d towards the peafantry and common people.— 'Ihis fellow has imbibed all the infolent confe- quence of thofe among whom he has lived j and, though roturier himfelf conceives, that he de- rives from the honor of being the idle valet to a nobleman, a right to defpife and trample on ths honert man who drav/s his fubfiftence from the ground by independent induftry." By this time we were arrived at the gateof the courdhon- nfur, which is furroundedon three fides by the chateau. — There bad once been a ftraight walk, leading from the termination of the avenue to the my lord's grounds. I'll I'pare them ihe trouble, rafcals at they are, of taking game ; and, if 1 met the.i. — I (hould do their bufineis." ' " But how do their buCnels?" " Why, Monfieur le Mar- quis, peihaps I might fiie a tew fii it among thofe fcouBdrels." — "■' You have, then, a decided call ior exhibtng on the Ian- thorn poll ?" — " Beit lb: 1 had rather be hanged than live where thole fellows aie my equalt, and kave the hberty ot hunting." fteps D li S M O N D. 127 fteps of the houfe, but it was now covered with thirties and nettles; the fleps were overgrown with green mofs, and when the great door opened to let us in, it Teemed an operation to which it was entirely unaccuftomcd. Le Maire, however, extremely folici^tous for the dignity of his mafter, had hurried in before us, and fent one fervant to wait at this door, and a fecond to fhew us the way to the apart- ment where Monfeigneur was to receive us. — This was in i. falle a cornpognie^ on the firft floor, where, after pafling through three other cold and half furniflied rooms, we, at length, ar- rived. — The Count, who is a handfome man, above fixty, received me with cold politenefs ; his nephew with a fort of fullen kindnefs : it feemed as if he at once embraced him as a rela- tion, and repulfed him as an enemy. — About half an hour after our arrival, I heard that the Count was to fend, the next day, a courier to Clermont, by whom I might difpatch letters to England. — I had this and two or three others to write ; and, I thought that it was better to let the Count and his nephew begin their political controverfy without the prefenceof a third per- son ; for thefe reafons, as foon as fupper was over, which was very ill drefied, and ferved ir» very dirty plate, 1 defired to be conducted to tny apartment. Having mounted a very broad fbirc.ifeof brick and wood, and pafled through a long corridor, which feemed to lead to a part of the houfe very remote from that I had left, I was fhewn into a fort of ftate bed-chamber ; one of thofe v.'here comfort had formerly been facrificed to fplendour, but which now poflciled neither the one nor tlie other : and, on opening the door, 1 was fenfible of that damp, mufly fmcll, 128 DESMOND. fniiel], which is ufuaHy perceived in rooms that have been 1-ng unfrequented. The wainfcoting was of cedar, or fome other brown wood, finely carved ; the hangings of a dull and d.irk blue Lyon's damafk; a high ca- nopy bed of the fame, ftood at one end of the room, and, at the other, was a very large glafs reaching from the ceiling to the floor; but M'hich, by the Tingle candle I had, ferved only to reflect the deep gloom that every obje£t offer- ed. — A great projedting chimney of blood co- loured marble, over which another mirror fup- ported a large carved trophy, reprefcnting the aims of the family; a red marble table, and (our or five high-backed, fluffed chairs, covered with blue velvet, completed the furniture of the room; which, floored as it was with hexagon bricks, compofed, altogether, oneof themoft funeral apartments i ever remember to have been in. i fat down, however, and wrote my letters j but having done them, 1 felt no inclination to ileep, and therefore, opening the croife'e, 1 leaned upon the railing, which, in houfes built as this is, forms a clumfy fort of balcony to every win- dov*'. — The day had been unufually clofe and fultry, and with the night, the thunder ftorm, produced by the heated atmofphere, approached. — I now heard it mutter at a diftance, and foon after faw, from the fouth-weft, the moft vivid lightening I ever remarked, breaking from thofe niajeftic and deeply-loaden clouds, which the -brightnefs of the moon above them made very viiible. — In a country fo level as that is, for many miles round the chateau d'iiauteville, the horizon is, of courfe, great and uninterrupted, and I faw to advantage the progrefs of the ftorm i DESMOND. 129 ftorm ; a fpeflacle I have always had great plea- fure in contemplating. When the imagination foars into thofc re- gions, where the planets puifue each its deftined courfe, in the immenfity of fpace — every planer, probably, containing creatures adapted oy the Almightv, to the refidencc he has placed them in ; and when we refledl, that the fmalleft of thefe is of as much confequence in the univerfe, as this world of cur's j how puerile and ridicu- lous do thofe purfuits appear in which we are fo anxioufly bufied ; and how infignificant the trifles we toil to obtain, or fear to lofp. None of all the little cares and troubles of our Ihort and fragile exiftence, feem worthy of g;ving us any real concern — and^ perhaps, we never truly poflefs the reafon we fo arrogantly boaft, till we can thus appreciate the real value of the objects around us. Heaven knows, my dear Bethel, that I am far enough from enjoying this philofophic tran- quility. — 1 have entiufted you with my waking refledlions — D.ire 1 afk your indulgence for the wild wanderings of my mind, when reafon re- figned her feat entirely to " thick-coming fan- cies." The hurricane had entirely fubfided, and the rain-drops fell flowly from the roof, I rtill con- tinued at the window, for my thoughts were fled to LngKmd, and I had only a confufed re- colle6lion of where I was j till I found myfelf extremely cold, and turning, faw my candle ex- piring in the focket. I then recolleded, that it was time to go to my bed, and to feek in fleep, relief againft the uneafy thoughts thathad dwelt upon my mind about Geraldinc. On looking, however, towards it, it again feemed G5 fo 230 DESMOND. fo comfortlefs and gloomy, that I fancied it damp ; and though no man poflelTes a conftitu- tion more fortified againft fuch accidents, or cares lefs about them, 1 had no inclindtion to undrefs myfelf, or, though I was weary, to llcep ; I v/ifhed for a book, but I happened, contrary to my ufual cuftom, not to have one in the i'mall portmanteau 1 had brought from Montfleuri ; and having nothing to divert my attention from the cold gloom that furrounded me, I became tired of hearing the dull murmurs of the finking wind howl along the corridor— and I, at length, determined to try to fleep. Still, however, the notion of the dampnefs of the bed detering me from entering it, I took only my coat ofF, and wrapping myfelf in a flannel powdering gown, 1 threw myfelf on the embroidered counterpane, and foon after funk into forgetfulnefs. 1 know you tvill fay I am as weakly fuperftitious as a boarding- fchool mifs, or as ** the wifeft aunt telling the fiddeft tale" to a circle of tired and impatient auditors. ■■ — I am confcious of all this, yet I cannot help relating the ftrange phantoms that haunted my imagination. 1 believed myfelf at the fame window as where 1 ftood to obferve the ftorm; and, that in the Count's garden, immediately beneath it, I faw Geraldine expofed to all its fury. — Her hufband feemed at firft to be with her, but he difiippeared, 1 know not how, and fiie was left expofed to the fury of the contending elements, which feemed to terrify her lefs on her own ac- count, than on that of three children, whom {he clafpcd to her bofom, in all the agonies of ma- ternal apprehenfion, and endeavoured to fhelter from the encreafing fury of the tempeft. — I haftened. DESMOND. 131 haftened, I flew, with that velocity we poflefs only in dreams, to her afiiftance : I preffed her eagerly in my arms — I wrapt them round her children — — 1 thought flie faintly ihanlced me; told me, that for herfelf my care wa- ultlefs, but that it might protect rht-m.- She was as cold as marble, and I rtcolledt having remark- ed, that (lie refembied a beautiful Itatue of Niobe, done by an Italian fculptor, which I had admired at Lyons. While 1 was entreating her to accept of my protedion, and to go mto the houfe, I fuddenly, by one of thofe incongruities fu ulual in fleep, fancied I faw her extended, pale, and apparently dymg on the bed, which i had objected to go into, wiih the leaft of her chMdren, a very young infant dead in her arms. — Diftracted at luth a figlu, I feized her hand — I implored her to Ipealt to me She opened languidly thofe lovely eyes, which 1 have (o ofien gazed on with tranfpor-. — they were glazed and neavy— yet, 1 thought, they exprtiied tendernel- and pity for me — while, in a low, tremulous voice — Ihe bade me adieu ?— adieu, for ever! 1 now fhrieked in frantic terror — I tried to recall her to life by my wild exclamations — I would have warmed, in my bofom, the cold hand I neld, when (he gently drew it from me, and pointing to her two children, whom I now faw itanding by the fide of the bed, clinging to a young woman, who was, 1 fancied, Fanny Waverly, Ihe faid, in a yet lower and moie mournful tone — *•• Defmond ! — if you ever truly loved me, it is there you mult fhew your affec- tion." — I then faw the lalt breath tremble on thofe lovely lips — it was gone — Geraldine was loft for ever !— And, jn an agony of defpair, fuc 132 DESMOND. fuch as, thank Heaven, I never was confcious of vi'aking; I threw myfelf on the ground. — The Violence of this ideal emotion reftored me to myfelf. — I awoke — my face bathed in tears, and in fuch confufion of fplrits, that it was long before 1 could recall myfelf to reafon, and to a clear conviction, that all this was only a dream. So ftrong was the impreflion, that 1 dared not hazard feeling it again by fleeping. — I theiefore put on my great coat, and as the moon now fhone in unclouded radiance, 1 went down into the garden, and wandered among the bofquets and treiUage that make its formal ornaments. — Still the figure of Geraldine purfued me, fuch as I had feen her in this diftrcfling vifion — Still I heard her voice bidding me an eternal adieu ! — I would have given the world to have had fome human being to have fpoken to, that thefe imaginary founds of plaintive forrow might have vibrated in my ears no longer, but 1 was afhamed of awakening Montfleuri, had 1 known where to have found him — And my fervant Warley, I bad left at Montfleuri, to bring my letters after me. 1 continued, therefore, to traverfe this me- lancholy garden — Sometimes refolving to con- quer my weaknefs, and return to my bed, and thfn (hrinking for the apprehenfions of being again liable to the terror I had juft experienced. At length, I heard the clock of the church ftrike three — I followed the found for two or three hundred paces, through a cut walk that led from the garden towards it, and entering "^the church-yard, which is the cimet'iere of a large village, I was again (truck with a circum- ftance that had before appeared particulaily dif- maK DESMOND. 133 mal. I mean, that there are in France no marks of graves, as in England, *' Where heaves the tuif in many a mouldering heap," Here all is level — and forgetfulnefs Teems to have laid her cold oblivious hand on all who reft within thefe enclofures. No object appears in the mou'-nful fpotl was now contemplating, but a crofs, on which a dead Chrift painted, and reprefenting life, as clofely as poflible, was fufpended ; the moon- beams falling directly on this, added to the dreary horrors of the fcenc. — I ftood a few mo- ments looking on it, and tht^n was roufed from my mournful reverie by the found of human voices, and of horfcs feet. — Iliftened, and found thefe (bunds came from the farm-yard, which was only two or three hundred paces before me. — Hither i gladly found my way, and faw the vine-dreflers,and people employed in the making •wine, preparing for their work, and going to gather the grapes while the dew was yet on them. Rejoiced to find fomebody to fpeak to, 1 entered into converfation with them, and for a moment dilfipated my ideas — I followed them to the vine-yard, affilted in their labours, and was equally allonilhed and pleafed to hear, how rationally thefe unenlightened men conffdered the blefiing of their new-born liberty, and with what manly fiimnefs determined to preferve it. There was among them a Breton, who ap- peared to have more acutenefs and knowledge than the reft ; with him, 1 fliall take an oppor- tunity of having farther difcourie. It is now one o'clock at noon. — I have had an hour's converfation with Montfleuri — I have paid IJ4- » E S M O N Er. paid my morning compliments to the Count-— I have bten amuled with the ridiculous anger of I^e Maire, whom M .'ntfleuri has been pro- voking to diiplay it, on the fubject of the abo- lifhed titles — Y^t, even after all this, the im- preffion 1 received in my fleep is not diiTipated —Yet, I am certainly not fuperftitiou-. — [ have, afTuredly, no faith in dreams, which are> I know, but *' The children "f an idle brain, *' Begot of D' thing but vain phanfafy, ♦' And more intonllant than the vagrant wind«."* I fhal! hear from Kngland, perhaps, to-mor- row, or Friday, and then be able to laugh at my wealcnefs, as mucn as vou h ive probably done in reading this. I hear the Count's courier is ready to fet out for Clermont. 1 muft, there- fore, haltily bid you, dear Bethel, adieu! LIONEL DESMOND. ♦ Shakefpeare. LET- DESMOND, 135 ♦LETTER XIL TO MR. BETHEL. Hauieville in Auvergne, Sept. 30, 1790. MONTFLEURI came into my room yef- tefterday moring with letters in nis hand, whict he had juft received from his own houie — x afked eagerly for mine, but there were none, and my ft-rvant yet remains waiting for them.— I exprefled, perhaps too forcibly, what 1 felt — impatience and difappointment; when Mont- fleuri, as foon as thefe emotions had a little fubfided, afked me gaily, " whether 1 had many near and dear relations in England, for whofe health I was fo extremely folicitous as to injure my own by my anxiety ?" — I replied, *' that though 1 had very few relations, and with thofe few feldom correfponded, yet, that 1 had friends to whom 1 was warmly attached." — " And fome lovely and fond woman alfo, I fancy," intenufued he^ *' for, my dear Def- •Wiit'.en before the receipt of Bethel's laft letter. mond 136 DESMOND. mond, thefriendfhip, however greaf, that fub- fifts between perfons of the fame fcx, creates not thefe violent anxieties. — Ah ! my good friend, I fancy you are a very fortunate fellow^ — As to my tv/o fifters, they feem, by their let- ters, to be quite enchanted with you ; and Jo- fephine (whofe tears, indeed, at our parting, I did not before attribute all to my own account) declares in this let'er, that if I do rot foon re- turn with my Englifh friend, fhe and Julie muft rejoin us here, notwirhftanding their diflike to this melancholy place ; for, that fince we have left Montfleuri, it is become fo extremely /r/^,?, that they are half dead with lalfitude znA ennui. You remember, I dare fay, hearing fine fenti- mental fpeeches from Jofephine about the charms of folitude and the beauties of nature. — Now nature was never more beautiful than it is at this moment in the I yonois, yet is my gentle Tofephine moft marvelloufly difcontent. I^Gi- mond, do tell me how you manage to bewitch the women in this manner?" I was neither gay enough to enjoy this rail- lery, or coxcomb enough to believe that Ma- dame de Boifbelle regrettt-d meat Montfleuri.-— Indeed, I raihtr felt hurt at her brother's fpeak- ing of her thus lightly; but with him this vi- vacity is conltituiional. — He has befides, from education, habit, and principles, much freer notions than 1 have about w^omen. — He again enquired of me of what nature was my Englifh attachment — a queftion I declined anfwering; for the name of Geraldme is not to be prophan- ed by his fufpicions, or even his conjectures. — Were I to fav that my paffion for her is as pure and holy as that of a fond brother for a lovely and amiable filler, which I am almoji fure it is, he ©ESMOND. 137 he would turn my Platonifm into ridicule; or, if he could be perluaded to believe that (uch a paflion exifts, he would think that fhe Vi'as a prude, and that I am an idcot ; and to thi?, though I can forgive it, becaufe he does not know Geraldine, I will not expofe myfelf. 1 heartily with the time fixed for our (lay here was expired — 1 am wcaiy of the place — The frigid magnificence in which we live is very dull, and the perpetual arguments between the Count and his Nephew, are fometimes, at leaft, diftreffing. — The former, with that haughty obftinacy that endeavours to fet itfelf abuve the reafon it cannot combat, defends, with afperity and anger, thofe prejudices, in obedience to which he is about to quit his coun- try— Though could he determine to throw them off, he might undoubtedly continue at home, as much refpedted, and more beloved than ever he was in the meridian of his power. 1 he dialouges, which he is fond of holding with Montfleuri, have not unfrequently been carried on with fo much warmth on his fide, as to alarm me, left they fhould produce an open rupture ; for what the old Count wants in found- nefs of argument, he makes up in heat and de- clamation. — His nephew, however, has fo much good temper, and fuch an habitual ref- pe£t for him, that he never fuffers himfelf to be too much rufiied ; and d'Hauteville, after the moft violent of thefe contentions, is under the neceffity of recollecting, that it is on his ne- phew he muft depend for the care of his pecu- niary concerns (a matter to which he is by no means indifferent) when he goes into the volun- tary exile to which he chufes to condemn him- felf. He alfo recollects, that he owes to Mont- fleuri 138 DESMOND. fleuri a confiderable fum of money, part of his mother's fortune j. which, together with the ar- rcar of intereft he has always evaded paying by the chicanery of the old laws ; and, he now fears, that when equal jaftice is eftabliflied, this claim may be revived and enforced by Mont- fleuri. — Thus it is rather intereft than affinity that prevents his breaking with his nephew; and that compels him, with averted and reluc- tant ears, to hear thofe truths which Mont- fieuri fpeaks to him, with the fame coolnefs, and as much diverted of confiderations of per- fonal intereft, as his nephew would fpeak be- fore a Conclave of cardinals, or, if it could be colledled, of emperors. To-day, after dinner, Montfleuri happened to be abfent, and the Count taking advantage of it, began to talk to me, whom he wifhes to win over to his party, on the fubject nearell his heart — the abolition of all titular diftin£tions in France — He went back to the earlieft records of the kingdom to prove what I never doubted —the antiquity of tides, as if that were an ir- refragable proof of their utility. — " My God, Sir !" cried he, "is it poffible — that you — that you — who are, without doubr, yourlelf of no- ble blood"—" Pardon me. Sir, faid I, for in- terrupting you, but if that be of any weight in the argument you are going to ufe, it is necef- fary to tell you, your fuppoution is erroneous — I am not noble. — My anceltors, fo far as I ever traced them, which is indeed a very little way, were never above the rank of plain coun- try gentlemen j and, I am afraid, towards the middle of the laft century, iofe even that dig- nity in a miller and a farmer." — " Well, Sit," continued the Count, in whofe elteem i had gained D E S M O N D. 139 gained nothing by this humble ciifclofure of my origin. — '* Well, Sir, however that may have been — you are now, I underftand, from the Marquis, my nephew, a man of large for- tune and liberal education — and therefore, in your own country, where nohlejfe is not To much infifled upon, you have, undoubtedly, mixed much with men of high birth, and eminent confidcration." — '* Really, Sir, you do me ar^ honor in that fuppofition, to which 1 am not very well entitled. With u«, it is true, that a conl^derable fortune is a paiTport to futh fociety; and had I found any fatisfaiticn in enlifting my- felf under the banners of either of thofe parties, who are always contending for the good of old Kngland, I might have been admitted among the old and middle aged, who are bufied in ar- ranging the affairs of the public ; or among the young, who are yet more bufy in difarranging their own. But having no tafte for the fociety of either the one or the other, I can boafl of only one titled friend in my own country; and he Is a man whom 1 love and honor for the vir- tues of his heart, not for the fplendor of his fi- tuation— Poflciling an illuftrious name and a noble fortune, he has a dignity of mind, and a fenlibility of heart, which thofe advantages not unfrequently deftroy. Could we, among our numerous nobility, boafl of many fuch men, their conduit wou d be a ftronger argument in favor of tlie advantages of a powerful arifto- cracy, than the moit dazzling Ihew of a birth- day exhibition, or the moll plauhbie vindi- cation of titu'ar diftindtions that we have ever yet heard. — There may, for ought 1 know, be others equallv refptctable for their private virtues, but they have not fallen within my obfer- vation; and judging, therefore, of the greater part 140 DESMOND. part of them through the medium of public re- port, I have felt no with to approach them nearer." ** However you may think of indi- viduals, Sir," faid the Count, " you furely are not fo blinded, fo infatuated, by the dod^rines that have obtained moft unhappily for this country, as not to feel the necelTiiy that this or- der of men fiiould exilK — You muft know, that the wifdom of our ancient kings created this drftindtion, that is to fay, they thought it expe- dient to raife the brave and valiant above the common level of mankind, by giving them badges and titles of honor, in order to mark and perpetuate their glorious deeds, and ftimulate, to emulation, their illuftrious pofterity — now — if thefe well-earned rev/ards are taken from their defcendants — if thefe facred diftmdiions be annihilated, and the names of heroes paft, be erafed from the records of mankind — I aflert, that there is an end, not only of juftice, but of emulation, fubordination — all that gives fafety to property, or grace to fociety — and the world will become a chaos of confufion and outrage. —What ! — (hall a man of trade, a ncgociant, an upilart dealer in wine, or wood, or fugar, or cloth, approach one in whofe veins, perhaps, the blood of our Lufignans and lancreds cir- culares. — The fame blood which, in the de- fence of our holy religion, was fhed in Palef- tine. — I fay, {hall a mufhroom, a fungus, ap- proach thefe illuftrious defcendants of honored anceftors, and fay, " Behold, Oh ! man of -high defcent, 1 am thy equal, my country de- clares it !" Indignation here artefted the eloquence it had produced, and gave me an opportunity of fay- ing, " My dear Sir, the united voices of com- mon DESMOND. 141 mon fenfc, nature, and reafon, declared all this long ago, though it is only now you are compelled to hear them. As to the degradation of Mejftfurs^ the prefent defcendants of your Lufignans and Tancreds, if it be a degradation to be accounted only men, I really am much concerned for them ; but for the ill efFeits it otherwife produces, inafmuch as fuch motives fail as might excite them to equal thefe their great progenitors, I cannot underftand that there is in that refpt(5l much to regret. — The days of chivalry will never, I apprehend, re- turn i the ravings of a fanatic monk will never again prevail on the French to make a crufade. . — Nay, added I, fmiling, there feems but little probability that they will foon be called upon to take arms, in a caufe which has in later times appeared of greater moment — 1 mean, refcuing what one of your writers calls U'vain honneur du pavilion*^ from the arrogant fuperiority of us prefumptuous iflanders. The real value of both thefe objects, for which fo much blood has been wafted, feems to be better underftood, the real inteieft of humanity to appear in its proper light. Since, therefore, we no longer have occafion to follow the example of thofe he- roes who have bled for either— Why contem- plate them with fuch blind reverence? i fup- pofe, Sir, youwiUnot fay, that the frantic ex- peditions to the Holy Land, preached by Peter the Hermit, anfwered any other purpofe than to depopulate and impoverifli your country and mine. Nor will you maintain, that either France or England have gained any thing but * The vain honor of the flag, which, till within a few years, •the Englifh have always infjlled on having ftruck to them in ithe Narrow Seas. taxes 142 DESMOND. taxes and poverty by the continual wars with which we have been harafling each other, through a fucceffirn of ages. Surely then it is time to recall our imaginations from thefe wild dreams of fanaticifm and heroifm — Time to remove the gorgeous trappings, with which we have dreft up folly, that we might fancy it glory. — The tinfel ornaments we have borrow- ed as the livery of this phantom, are become tarnifhed and contemptible — Let not regret then, that the hand of fober reafon tears off thefe poor remaining (Tireds, with which virtue difdains to attempt encreafing its genuine luf- tre ; with which felfiihners and foi'Iy mujl fail lo hide their real deformity. — Have patience with me yet a moment — while I afk — v/hether you really think, that a dealer in wine, or in wood, in fugar, or cloth, is not endued with the fame facukiesand feelings as the defcendant of Charlemagne; and whether the accidental advantages of being able to produce a long pe- digree (which, notwithftanding the infinite vir- tue afcribed to matrons of antiquity, is, I fear, often very doubtful) ought to give to the noble who pofleires it, a right to confider every lower rank of men as being of an inferior and fubor- dinante fpecies" — ** So, Sir" — angrily burfl forth the Count — " So, Sir ! — I muft, from all this, conclude, that you confider your footman upon an equa- lity with yourfelf. — Why then is he your foot- man * ?'; " Becaufe — though my footman is certainly fo far upon an equality with me, as he is a man, and a free-man; there muft be a diftindlion in * This argument has been called unanfwerable. local DESMOND. 143 local circumftances ; though they neither ren- der me noble, or him bate — I ttappen to be born heir toconfiderable eftates ; it is his chance to be the Ion of a labtmrer, living on thofe ef- tates. — I have occafion for his fervicts, he has occafion for the money by which I purchafe them : in this compadt we are equal fo far as we are free. — I, with my property, which is money, buy his property, which is time, fo long as he is willing to fell it. — 1 hope and be- lieve my footman feels himfelf to be my fellow- man ; but I have rot, therefore, any apprehen- fion that inftead of waiting behind my chair, he will fit down in the next. — He was born poor — but he is not angry that I am rich — fo long as my licbes are a benefit and not an oppreffion to him. — He knows that he never can be in myfi- tuation, but he knows alfo that I can amend his. — If, however, inftead of paying him for his fervices, 1 were able to fay to him, as has been done by the higher clafies throughout Eu- rope, and is (till in too many parts of it — " you arc my vafial — vou were born upon my effate — you are my property — and you muft come to work, fight, die for me, on whatever condi- tions I pleafe to impofe; — my fervant, who would very naturally perceive no appeal againft fuch tyrannical injuftice, but to bodily prov.^efs would, as he is probably the moflr athletic of the two, difcoyer that fo far from being com-^ pelled to ftand on fuch terms behind my chair, he was well able either to place himfelf in the next, or to turn me out of mine, — * * Ceux qui difent •*' Thbfe who fay that all men are equal, fay tliat which is ptrfeftly true; if they mean that all men have an equal right to perfonal and mental Jibetty ; to their refjieilive pioperties; and 144 D E S M O N D» difent que tous les hommes font egaux,' fays Voltaire — ''Ceux qui difent que tous les hom- mes font egaux, difent la plus grande verite, s'ils entendent que tous les hommes ont un droit egala la liberte, a la propriete de leurs biens, & a la protection des loix. — lis fe tromperaienr beaucoup, s'ils croyaient que les hommes, doivent etre €gaux par les emplois, puifqu'ils ne le font pas par leurs talens." " Voltaire !" impatiently exdaimed the Count, " why always Voltaire ? — one is per- fectly ftunned with the falfe wit and infiduous mifreprefentations of that atheiftical fcribbler." Againft the defender of the family of Calas ; the protedlor of the Sirvens ; the bcnefadtor of all mankind, whom he pitied, feived, and laughed at ; the Count now moft furioufly de- claimed, in along and angry fpeech, which, as it pofTelled neither truth or argument, 1 have forgot.— Towards the clofe of it, however, he had worked himltlf into fuch a ftate of irrita- tion, that he feemed on the point of forgetting that on which he fo highly values hitnfclf — Les manihes de la vieille cour. The entrance of a man of the church, whofe diminiftied revenues had yet had no effedt, either in reducing his figure, or fubduing his arrogance, made a momentary diverfion in my favour. But the Count was now heated by his fub- je6l : and, being reinforced with fo able an aux- iliary, he returned to the charge. — He related the fubjcCt of our controverfy to his friend, and to the proteou!d be maftrr* of the world, were it not for thofe ralcal!) wits." "f- Voltaire. X The name u immateriii ; it ii tho power only that is of tonfequence. Vol. I. H wi^.h 14-6 DESMOND. ^ith the poiuer of oppreflion, that they could not be divid d, the nation had a right to take away both ; if "otherwire) it might, perhaps, have been politic to have divided them, and have left to the French patricians, thefe founds on which they feem to feel that their confe- qucncc depends ; together with the invaluable privileges of having certais^n fymbols painted on their coaches, or woven on (heir furniture; and of dreffins; their domeflics in one way rather than in another. —A great people who had every thing on which its freedom and its profperity depended to confider, mul^ furely have fcen fuch obje£ls as thefe with fo much indifference, that had they not been evidently obnoxious to the fpirit of reform, they would have left thenli to the perfons who fo highly value them ; per-* fons who refolve to quit their country becaufe fhey are no longer to be enjoyed in it.-^The framers of the nev/ conftitution, had they not been well convinced of the inefficacy of mere palliation^ would nor, certainly, by deflroying thefe diftincStions (matters in themfdves quite inconfequential) have raifed againft the fabrick Cliey were planning, the unextinguifliable rage and hatred of a great body of men ; but would have left them in quiet pofl'effion of thefe bau- bles fo ncceHary to their happinefs." *' Hold, Sir," cried the Count, whofe im* patience-tould no longer be reftrained^" Hold, Sir, and do not fpeak ihus contcmptuoufly I en- treat you, of an advan-r£g« which it is very truly faid, no man undervalues who is pofTelled of it. -—You, Sir, have owned that your family is roturier — How then, and at your time of life, when the real value of fbjedts cannot have been liaught you by exptricjice ; bow then can you pretend D E S M O K D. 147 pretend to judge of that which is appreciated by the wifdom of age?, and has been held up as the reward of heroic virtues. — Baubles ! — Is it thus you term the name a man derives from his ilhiftrious anceftors — Bauble ! — are the ho ors handed down to me, from the firft d'HauteVille, who lived under Louis le Grosy the fixth in de- fcent from Charlemagne, to be thus contuma- cioufly defcribed by the upftart politics of mo- dern reformers." I was really concerned to fee the poor man fo violently agitated, and replied, " My dear Sir — I allow much to the pride derived from an = ceftry — Where the dignity of an houfe has been fupported, as I doubt not, but that you have fupported yours ; but let me on the other fide fay, that there are but too many who certainly inherit nor, with their names, the vi tues of their progenitors. You recollecl a maxim of Rochefaucauh's on this fubjeit, which, as I remember to have heard, that he is a favourite author of your's, you will allow me to bring forward in fupport of my argument — '* Les grands noms abaiflcnt au lieu d'e.ever, ceux qui ne favent pas les foutenir*." Befides, how nuny are there, both in your country and mine, who are called noble, who cannot, in facfl, re- fer to the examples of a long line of anceftry, to animate th m, by example, to dignified con- duct.— How ve^v nianv, who owe to money, a, id not hereditary merit, the right they afl'ume ^to louk dOA-n on the reft of the world. It ii tfU', tnai for the moft part,, that world repays their contempt ; and it is from the vulgar only, * "■ Great namt-s degrade, inlead of ri'fin^, tbofe who knr w mt how to lonport chein;" — Max tns 94, dc Ro;hc- fdUCdtllt. H 2 who I^B. D £ S M O K D. who venerate a new coronet, which is generally *' twice as big as an old on/' — that they receive even the '* knee homage, this valued appendage gives them. " Les Rois font des homnics -comme des pieces de monnoie; ils les font va- loir ce qu'ils veulent, h Ton eft force de les re- cevoir, felon leurs cours, & non pas felon leur veritable prix *." ^' Let fuch men, then," faid Monfieur d'Hauteville, " let fiich be erafed, with all my heart, from the catalogue of noble names. — In- deed, it i« well known, that ic^ never confidered fuch as belonging to our order. — I argue not .about them — but for thofe, whofe blood gives them pretenfions to different treatment. — Ah ! Monfieur Defmond, >f it were poflible — but it is not — for you to underftand my feelings, you would comprehend, how utteily impoflible it is for me, at my time of life, to continue in this loft and debafed country, to drag on an ex- jftence, from which every thing valuable is gone, and which is confequently expofed to in- dignity and fcorn — Would they not erafe my iirms ? change my defcription ? tear down the trophies of my houfe?" — Thefe ideas feemed fo deeply to affedl the Count, that his refpirgti- on again became affetSted ; his eyes appeared^to be ftarting from his head j and he aflumed f© much the look of a man on the point of be- coming infane, that 1 thought it more than time to conclude a converfation, that I ftiould not have continued fo long, had he not feemed t« dcfire it. * Kings pive value to men as ihey Ho to coin; they mark iht-m with what ftamp they pleafe ; and ihe world leceives itieni accoriiing lo inib imagimry ert'mate, and not accorilinjj It) Lheir ical silu*. — Ro.hcfaucauli, Msxii.e 10. With DESMOND. 149 With inveterate prejudice, thus fondl]^ nurfed from early youth, it werehopelefsto con- tend — In the mind of Monfieur d'Hautevillc, this notion of family confequence is fo interwo- ven, fo aflbciated with all his id&as,. that, as the ivy coeval with the tree, at lengthy deliroys its vital principle, this fentiment now predo- minates to the cxtindlion of reafon itfelf — " Thefe prejudices," fays an eminent living, writer*, ** arife from what are commonly called falfe views of things, or improper airociatlons- of ideas, which, in the extreme, become deli- rium, or madnefs j and is confpicuous to every pcrfon, except to him, who actually labours- under this diforder of mind." I withdrew, therefore, as foon as I could, iag Monfieur d'Hautevillc with his friciid ; who, 1 am fu;e, had his looics pofilfil-d thj power imputed to thnfc of the Balilifk, would tiien have concluded my adventures. — As I pafied through the 1-ifk ami room, and turned my eyes on the drawing of a great gemalogica'. tree,, vi/hich covers one fide of it, 1 could i.ot help philofophizmg on the infinite variety of the mi'des ot ihinking among mankind — The dif- feren-, who were tliought too near the coaif, were or- dered away to Northampton, while, very foon ar:crwarc!s, a number of Spaniards, who had a.tiong them a fever of a moft malignant fort, Vere lent to the prifon ahcady ovcr-crcwded, and DESMOND. 155 and death began to make redoubled havock among its wretched inhabitants— Of fo dire a nature was thedifeafe thus imported, that while the bodies that were thrown over-board from the Spanifti fleet, and driven down by the tide on the coafts of Cornwall and Devonfhire, car- ried its fatal influence into thofe countries, the prifoners, who were fent up from Plymouth, difTeminated deftrudion in their route, and among all who approached them ; thus becom- ing the inftruments of greater mifchief, than the fword and the bayonet could have executed — Not only the miferable prifoneis of war, who were now a mixture of French, Spanifli, and Dutch perifhed by dozens everv day ; but the foldiers who guarded them, the attendants of the prifon, the phyfical men who were fent to adminifter medicines, and foon afterwards, the inhabitants of the town, and even thofe of the neighbouring country began to fufFer — Then it was that your government perceing this blejjitig of ivar likely to extend itfclf rather too far, thought proper to give that attention to it, which the calamities of the prifoners would never have excited. A phyfician was fent down by Parliament, to examine into the caufes of this fcourge ; and in confequence of the im- poiubilitv of flopping it while fuch numbers were crowded together, the greater part of the French, whom hcknefs had fpared, were dif- mifTed, and I, among others, returned to my ovvn country. I, foon after, not difcouraged by what had befallen me, ente;ed on board another privateer, which had the good fortune to captuie two Welt-India fliips richly laden, and to br-ng them fafely into I'Urient, where we difpcfed of their cargoes ; and my ftiare was h confidera- ble, 156 D E S r%I O N D. ble, that I determined to quit the Tea, and re- turn to my friend? — When, in purfuance of this rcfolution, I arrived at home, I found my father and elder brother had died during my ab- fence; and 1 took pofTeffion of the little eftate to which 1 thus became heir, and began to think rnyfelf a perfon of Tome confequence. In com- mencing country gentleman, 1 fat rnyfelf down to reckon all the advantages of my fituation — An extenfive tradl of warte land lay oti one f.de of my little domain — On the other, a forefl- —My fields abounded with game — a river mn thrcugh them, on which I depended for a fupply of fifh ; and 1 determined to make a little war^ ren, and to build a dove cote. I had Under- gone hardfliips enough to give me a perfe(St; re- Jiih for the good things now within my reach *, and I refolved mcft pioufly to enjoy them — But I was foon diftuibed in this agreeable reverie-*— 1 took the liberty of firing one morning at a covey of partridges, that were feeding in my corn J and having the fame day caught a brace of trout, 1 was fitting down to regale rnyfelf on th«fe dainties, when I received the following notice from the neighbouring feigneur, with whom 1 was not at all aware that I had any thing to do. *' The mcft high and mofl powerful y^/^«^«r, Monfergneur Raoul-Phillippe-Jofeph-Alexan- dre-Caefar Erifpoe, Baron de Kermanfroi, fig- nifies to Louis- John de Merville, that he the {z\d fergnrar is in quality of Lord Paramount, is to all intents and purpofes invcfted with the tok right and property of the river running through his frcf, together with all the fifh therein ; the rpfties, reeds, and willows that grow iti or r.9ar the fiiid river; 2II trees and plants D E S M O N D. 157 plants that the fiid river waters; and all the iflands and aits within it — Of all and every one of which the high and mighty lord, Raoul-Phil- lippe-Jof- ph-Alexander-Ccefar Erifpoe, Baron de Kermanfroi, is abfolute and only proprietor — Alfo, of all the birds of whaifoever nature or fpecies, that have, fhall, or may, at anytime fly on, or acrofs, or upon, the faid fieforfeignemy. —And all the hearts of chafe, of whatfoever defcription, that have, (hall, or may be found upon it."«— In fhort. Sir, it concluded with in-^ forming me, the faid Louis- Jean, that if I, at any time, dared to fifh in the river, or to fhoet a bird upon the faidyf^/", of which it feems my little farm unluckily made part, I fhould be de- livered into the hands of juftice, and dealt with according to the utmoft rigor of the offended laws. To be fure, 1 could not help enquiring within myfelf how it happened, that I had no right to the game thus fed in my fields, nor the fi{h that fwam in the river ? and how it was, that heaven, in creating thefe animals, had been at work only for the grczt feigneurs / ——' What! is there nothing, faid I, but infeds and reptiles, over which man, not born noble, may exercife dominion? From the wren to the eagle J from the rabbit to the wild-boar; from the gudgeon to the pike — all, all, it feems, are the property of the great. 'Twas hard to ima- gine where the power originated, that thus de- prived all other men of their rights, to give to thofe nobles the empire of the elements, and the dominion over animated n-^ture ! — However, I refledted, but I did not refift; and fincc I could no longer bring myfelf home a dinner with my gun, I thought to confole myfelf as well as I could, with the produce of my farm -yard ; and 1 con- 158 DESMOND. I conftrufled a fmall enclofed pigeon-houfc, from whence, without any offence to my noble neighbour, 1 hoped to derive feme fupply for my taole — But, alas! the comfortable and re- tired ftate of my pigeons attraT fome mortients, and ftarting from the melancholy altitude in which fhe fat, (he tonic my ha id, and gently preffing it, faid, as I led her among the mafleso'" he fallen buildings that impe.ed our path — " To the unhappy, fym- pathy and tendernefs, like your's, is fo fe- ducii;g, that 1 have even trefpafled on the in- dulgence your pity (eems willing to grant me — I, perhaps, have too tedioufly dwelt on incurable clamiiies, and called off your thoughts too loa-i from pleafantcr fubje£ls and happier wo- men!"- 1 anfwcred — (not, I own, without more emotion than 1 wiflied to have Ihewn) that I had indeed liflened .... Dear Bethel, I here broke off, on receiving intelligence that a meflenger from Marfeilles had a pacquet to deliver to me. I hurried to meet him, and received from a man fent ex- prt^fs, the leiier I enclofe, from Anthony, Wa- verly's old fervant. As I am not fure that my prefencc in En- gland can be ufcful to Gerald ine, and have fome hoaes that at Marfeilles, it may yet fave her brother, I lliall therefore haften thither ; but, at the earneft entreaty of the ladies of this fa- mily, I (hall wait till noon to morrow, by which time Montfleuri will certainly be return- ed. I have therefore difpatched my fervant to the next port houfe to order four horfes hither to-nio>row— I have no hope that Waverly will yield to reafon, but his fluttuating charadler, which is uluaily fo much againfl: him, is here my only relianve — Diredt your letters, till you hear from me again, to the care of iVlelfieurs Duhamel DESMOND. 167 Duhamel Mnd Bergot, at Marfeilles ; and do not, I befeech you, my dear friend, trifle with my unllappinef^, but g ve me as exadl an account a6 you can coiled of V erney's affairs. As loon as polhble 1 hope to hear from you. Your's afFe fo bold as to tell this to my mafter, who was not angry in- deed with me, as he is a very good natured gen- tleman : but he afk'd if fo be 1 thought that he was to be always a child iji leading ftrings. I thought it beft, feeing this affair is ftill going on to advertife your honor of it; and if you think it proper to put an end thereto by your hinterference I think there is no time to be loft. From Sir . , Your dutiful humble fervant to command ANTHONY BOOKER, Vol. I. I LET- 170 DESMOND. LETTER XVII. TO MISS WAVERLY AT BATH, Upper Seymour Street, Nov. 10, 1790. WHY did I flatter myfdf, deareft Fanny, that the numberlefs diftrefles which have lately furrounded me, would either bring with them that calm refignatioa which fhould teach me to bear, or that total debility of mind that fliould make me forget to feel all their poignancy. — Is it, that I fat out in life with too great a (hare of fenfibility ? or is my lot to be particularly wretched ? — Every means 1 take to fave myfelf from pain — to fave thofe I love — on whom, in- deed, my happinefs depends, lerves only to ren- der me moie mifcrable. — How ill I have fuc- ceeded in regard to my brother, the enclofcd -letter wi!l too well explain ! Why did I ever involve DcfaionJ in the hnpelcfs t ,fk of checking his coiiducL — I am (o didreiTed, fo hurt, that it is with the utmolb diiiic'jlty i v/rite. — .iowever, as the generous • exertions DESMOND. 171 exertions of this excellrnt ycunp; man have, for the prtfcnt, rtfcued my broihcr from the atSlual commiflian of the folly he metiitated, though perhaps at the expcnce of a mofl valuable life, you will communicate to my mother this very unfortunate altair, and dchre her diredlions iti regard to recalling her fon. Perhaps 1 ought to fay all this to her myftlf; but I am really fo ihiikcn by this inte!Iigcnre, that it is not without great difficulty I can wri c to you. — My fortitude, which you have of late been accuftomed to compliment, has, I know not why, quite forfaken me now; and, me- thinks, 1 could bear any thing better, than that fuch a man as Defmond (heuld be fo great a fufFerer from his generous attention to a part of my family. 1 have been very ill ever fincc the receipt of this melancholy letter; and, it is only to-dav, though I received it on Thurfday, that I hav^ had ilrcngth enough to forwnrn it to vcu. — [ am now fo near being confined, that the people \>ho are coUecSlcd about me, weary me with their troublcfome care, and will not Jet me have a moment to myfelf. It would have been a comfort to me, ry Fanny, toha\c had vour company at this time; but I know that this incident will add to the rp- luSVance \\ith which my mother would have be- fore borne your abfence from her ; and, thfr^- fore, 1 will not again name it, nor fuffer myfelf to make tliofe complaints, in which ivg ( I meaa the unhappy) too frequently indulge ourfelves, without conlidering that this querulous weak- nefs i"? pcinful to othrrs ; and, to ourfelvec, un, availing : — for, alas! it cures not the evils it dffcribfc:-. ! 2 As 174 DESMOND. As to Mr. Verney, he has never been at harrie fince the October meeting, nor have I ever heard from him. His friend, Colonel Scarfdale, called at niy door on Tuefday, and was, by accident, admitted. — He made a long vifit, and talked, as ufiial, in a ftyle which i fuppofe 1 might admire (hnce all the world al- lows him to be very charming) if I could but underftand what he means. However, though I am fo taftelefs as not to difcover the perfections of this wonderful being, I endured his conver- fation from three o'clock till half paft five; in hopes, that as he is fo much conne£lcd with Mr. Verney, I might learn from him where my hufband is. — But he laughed ofF all my en- quiries unfeelingly enough j and, all I could collctSl was, that Mr. Verney is now, or at leaft was a icw days fmce, at the houfe of one of their mutual friends in Yorkfhire. — I anticipate the remark you will make upon this — You who are fo little inclined to fpare his follies, or, in- deed, thofe of any of your acquaintance ; and, it is too true, that when he is at home, it makes no other difference to me than that of deftroy- ing my peace without promoting my happinefs. — i check my pen, however — and when I jook at my two lovely children, I blame myfelf for being thus betrayed into complaints agamll their father. — Ajas ! v.'hy are our pleafures, our tafles, our views of life fo difFerent? — But 1 will ftifle thefe murmurs; aiid, indeed, I would molt wil- lingly dr(>p this hopelefs fubjett for ever. Let me return to one that gives, at leaft, more fa- vourable iceds oi human nature, though it can only be productive of pain to me — I mean — to poor Drfm(;nd. — Oh ! Fa/iny, what a heart is his! — How noble is that diJdain of p-^rfonal d.inger. D E S M O N D. 173 danger, when mlngleil with fuch manly tender- iiefs — luch generous fenfibility for the feelings of others ! — When we faw fo much of him in Kent thefirfl year of my marriage, we ufed, I remember, to have little difputes about him — but they were chilJifll. Do you not recollect that when I contended for Lavatcr's fyllem, I introduced him in lupport of my argument? — His was the moft open, in2;enuous countenance I had ever fcen ; and his manners, as. well as all I could then know of his heart and his temper, were exz£i\y fuch as that countenance indicated. You then, in the mere fpirit of contradidlion, ufed to fay, that this ingenuous expreflion was often loft in clouds for whole hours together ; and that you believed this paragon was a fullcy fort of an animal. — Did you ever believe that fuch a ftrikine: inflance of difinterefted kindnefs towards your own family wouid fo connrm my -opinion? — Yet while I write he fuffers — per- haps dies ! the vidlim of tliat generous and exalted fpirit which led him to hazard his life, that he might fulfil a promife I, who have fo little a right to his friendfhip, drew from him— A promife that he would be attentive to the conduct of my brother ! Indeed, Fanny, when my imagination fets- him before me woundtd, in pain, perhaps in danger (and it is an image 1 have hardly loft for a moment fince the receipt of vhis cruel intelli- gence) I am io very milerable, that all other anxieties of my life, multiplied as they have lately been, are unheeded and unfair. But why ftiould I write thus- why hazard com- municating to you, my dear iirter, a portion of that pain from which 1 cannot myfelf et- cape ? I will 1^4 DESMOND. I will bid you good night, my Fanny. It is now fix-and-thiriy hours fmce 1 have clofed my eyes— I will try to fleep, a.nd to forget how very very long it will be before i can hear again from Marfeilles. Write to rnc I conjure you — tell me what are my mother's inttntions as to fending for my brother home. And be allured of the tender afFedion cf your GERALDINE VERNEY. P. S. Did you ever hear cf this M*dsmc de Buifbtllc ? and do you know whcthti ilic is a uiduw or married?— Young, middle aged ur Old ? — She is fiHer to Mr. Defmond's favourite I'rench fiiend, Montfieuri ; and, if fhe has any heart, muft hi.ve exquifite pleafure in foftening, to fuch a man as Defmond, the long hours of pain and confinement. — I fuppofe he has for- gotten that I read French tolerably j however, perhaps, it was better to let the furgeon write. —How miferable is the fufpence I muft endure till the arrival of the next letters. LET- » t" S M N' D. 1-5 LETTER XVUL* TO MRS. VKRNEY. MA D A M, IT is at the rcqueff of Mr. Dcfrr.r-nd, that I takcthelibertyof addrcfiing you. f^i'>- anxiety, on your account, has never torfaken him in the midft of what have been certainly very acute fufterings ; not unattended with danger. Jt may be necefTary to enter into a detail of the caufes that prevent his writing himfelf, on a fubjedt, which nothing but the impraifticabi- lity of his doing, would, 1 am fure, induce him to entrufl to a flranger. It is now four days fince I received a fum- mons to attend, at the diftance of three miles ♦ Enclofcd in ihe foregoing to Mifs Waverly. from Ijb ©ESMOND. from the cit)*, an Englifli gentleman, who hail, on that morning, been engaged in an affair of honor. I had not till then the honor of know- ing Mr. Defrnond — whom I found very terribly wounded by a piltol fhot in the right arm. > I'hc ball eutering a little below the elbow, had run only broken, but fo (battered tlie bone, that i am afraid the greatell (kill cannot anfwer the ct-nfequences. — Befidcs this, there was a bullet, •from the nrft brace of piftols which were fired, lodged in the right flioulder, which, though it was fo ficuated as to be extraiSted without much cliiEculty, greatly encreiifes the inflammation, and of courfe, the hazard of the other wound, ■where the finews are fo torn, and the bone in iuch a flate, that the ball could not be taken out without great pain. I did all that could be done, and iVlr. Defrnond bore the operation vviih the calmefl fortitude. 1 left him at noon, in what 1 thought as favourable a way, as was pi^ifible, under Iuch circumfVances ; yet 1 found, on my return in the evening, that he had a great deal of fever ; and I am concerned to fay, ibis fymptom has ever fince been encreafing. — 1 hough much is certainly to be hoped for, irom the youth, conftitution, and patience of the fufi'erer — I can by no means fay I am cer- tain of a fortunate event. The difpute, in confcquence of which this difagreeable accident happened, originated, I 'find, about y^^ur brother, Mr. Wavcrly ; who, entangled.by the artifices of a family well known IH this country, had engaged to marry one of the -young ladies — a ftep which was thought, by ^ir. Defrnond, as indeed it was uaiverfaJly^ very indifcreet. T he interference of Mr. De(aiond DESMOND, 177 Dcfm^nd to prevent k, brought upon hrm the refentment of t!>e ladles brotlier, the young Chevalier »de -Stt. Eloy ; and the duel enfued. I found, very early in the courfe of my at- tendance, that the mind of my patient was as much aftedted as his body ; and that thegreateft pain he felt, was from being rendered incapable of writing to you, madam. — He at length aflced if I would be fo -good as to write what he would dictate, as it was the only way by which he <:-ould communicate his fituation to you. His advice is, that the relations of Mr. Waverly recall him immediately to England. He is now at Avignon, but notwithftanding what has happened, Mr. Defmond fecnis lo think him by no means fecure from the artifices of a family that has gained fuch an afcendancy over him. — I made notes with my pencil, as i fat by his bedfide, and indeed promifed to ad- here to the words he dictated ; but I think it my duty, midam, in this cafe,, to tell you my real fentiment?, and not to palliate or difguife my apprehenfions. — As foon as the affair hap^ pened, I fenr, by Mr. Defmond's defire, an account of it to his friend, whofe houfe, in the Lyonois, he had, I found, lecently left \ and to day this friend, Monfieur de Moniflcuri, arrived here exprefs, with his fifter, Madame de Boifbelle. — They both feem extremely inte- refted for the health of my patient, and have attencfed him,, ever f;nce their arrival, with un- ceafing aiTiduity. — He appears pleafed and re- lieved by their prefence; and indeed I imagined that he would rather have employed one of them to have the honor of writing to you ; but he faid Monfieur de Montfleuri could write but little Englilh, and his fifter none. I 5 I believe, 176 D E S M O It O. I believe, madam, tha^t to receive the honor of your commands, vi^ould be particularly gra- tifying to my patient, of whom I moft fincerely wifh that I may be enabled, in a fev^ days, to fend you a better account. I am, madam. Your moft obedient, and moft humble fervant, WILLIAM CARMICHAEL.. L K T- I ■t O £ S M 9 N D. 179' LETTER XIX. TO MR. D E S M G N D. Baih, Nov. 15, 1790. I NEVER was fo diftrefled in my life, liiy dear Defmond, as I was at the account of your accident ; which I received yefterday from Mifs Waverly. — I came hither about ten days ago by the advice of my friend Banks, who thinks the waters will decide, whether the fomething I have about me is gout or no ; and thought of nothing lefs than of receiving intelligence here, that you lie dangeroufly wounded at or near Marfeilles, in a quarrel about Waverly. — This is no time to prcaclt to you. — But 1 beg, that immediately upon the receipt of this letter, you vy^ill let me know if I can be of any ufe to you ; and, if 1 can, bc'afTured that nothing ftiiri . . preveiit prevent my coming to you inftantly. I hope you know, that I am not one of thofe who can. With great compofure, talk over and lament their friends misfortunes, without ftirring a finger to help them. — My life, which has long afrorded me no enjoyment worth the trouble of living for, is only of value to me, as it may be ufetul to ray children, and the very few friends I love. — You oncf, I remember, on an occa- ficn of much lefs importance, fcrupled to fend for me bccaufe you faid you knew it was in the midft of harveft ; — it is now in the midft of the wheat feafon ; yet, you fee, I am at Bath ; and, if a trifling, half-formed complaint, which is not ferious enough to have a name, could bring me thus far from home, furely the fervice of my friend Dcfmond would carry me much — much farther. 1 fhall be extremely uneafy till I hear from you, and would, indeed, fee out diredily, if I could imagine you are as ill as Mifs VVaverly repjefents you. — But ibefides that, her account is inconfiRent and incoherent. I know all -^ifils love a duel, and to lament over the dear jjgallant creature who fuffers ijj it. — This little jwild girl fee.ms half frantic, aiid ,does nothing '•4>ut talk to every .body ahu.ut yoju, in which (he JSiCws more gratitude than difc.reitiori. — Your -unr.le, Danby, who is here on his ufual au- ,tua nal vifit, has heard of your fame j and came buftling up toraein the cotFec-Boufe this morn- ing, ti) tell me, that alJ he bad forefeen as the cofjfequence of your imprudejit jouxney to France, was come to pafs j that you were af- faffini.ted by a party v^hom your politics h.ad offended ; and would probably loie your Jife in confequeiacc pf yojar.fjpoliih i^gc for a fooliih revolu- DESMOND. jSi revolution. — I endeavoured, in vain, to con- vince him that the afFair happened in a mere jjrivate quarrel — a quarrel with an avanturUr^ in which you had engaged to fave a particular friend from an improper niarriage. — The old Major would not hear me. — He at length grant- ed, that infteadof being afraflin:ited, yon might have fought, but that IHH it muft have been about politics ; and, to do him juttice, he judges of others by himfelf, which is the only way a man can judge. — Very certain it is, nav, he openly protcfies it, that he never loved any body well enough in his life, to give himfelf, on their ac- count, one quarter of an hour's pain. — The public intererts him as little — he declares, that he is perfectly at eafe, and therefore, cares not who is otherwife j and as to all revolutions, or even alteration?, he has a mortal averfion to them. — Mifs Waverly tells me (he has writ- ten to you, by defire of her mother, to thank you for your very friendly interpofition, and has given you an account of all your connexions in England. — This I am very ferry for, becaufe I am afraid fhe can give you no account of the Verney family that will not add to the prefent deprefiion of your fpirits ; indeed (he cannot, with truth, fpeak. of their fituation favourably j and, if truth could fay any thing good of Ver- ney, Mifs Waverly feems little difpofed to repeat it. — She is naturally fatirical, and hates Verney, to whom (he thinks her fifter has been facrificed j fo, that when«ver they meet, it is with difpieafnre on her fide, and with con- temptuous indifFerence on his : — but Fanny, whenever fhe has an oppoitunity of fpeaking of him, takes care that the dark (hades ot his charaf^ Fanny Waverly ; whom her mother has, at length, fent to the fuffering angel, aud who has given me a dread- ful detail of the fuppofed fituation of Verney 's ^a^.iirs— I fay fuppofed, becaufe there is nor thing certainJy known from himifelf^ acd thefe debts weje only difcovered by the entrance of the fheriiF's ofijctr?'. I cannot reft, my dear Bethel, whilfl Geraldine is thus diftreffed. My iboiights are conflantly employed upon the means of relievin,g her; but a cripple as 1 am, and fo far from England, 1 miift depend on ycu to aflift me. Since then you were fo good as to ofFtr to come nirher, I hope and believe you wiU not hefitiite to take a fliorter journey, much more conducive to my repcfe, even than the fatisfatf ion o. feeing you. — Go, I befeech you, to London — enquire into the nature of thefe debts i DESMOND. 185 debts; and, at all events, difcharge them ; but concealing carefully at whofe entreaty you take this trouble; even concealing yourfelf, if it be pofliblc — I fend you an order, on my banker, for five thoufand pounds, and if twice the fum be wanted to reftore to Geraldine her houfe, and a little, even tranfient rcpofe, I fljould think it a cheap purchafe. Do not argue with me, dear Bethel, about this— but hear me, when I moft folemnly af- fure you, that far from meaning to avail myfelf of any advantage which grateful fenfibility might give me over fuch a mind as her's, it is not my intention flie fhall ever know of the tranlaition ; and I entreat you to manage it for nie accordingly. While 1 find her rife every moment in my e/ieem, I knoiv that I am becom- ing — alas? am already become unworthy hers. — Do not alk me an explanation ; I have faid more than I intended— but let it go. 7^he grcatefi: favor you can do me, Bethel, is to execute this commiflion for me as expeditioufly as poffible, and it will give you pleafure to hear, that i am fo much better than my furgeon ex- pe£ted, from the early appearances of my wound, that it is probable I fhall be able to thank you with my own hand, for the friendly commiflion I now entreat you to undertake. I am already able to move my fingers, though not to guide a pen. iVly arm however, is yet in fuch a ftatt^ as renders it very imprudent, if not impoflible for me, to leave the fkilful man, who has, con- trary to all probability and expectation, faved jt from amputation; which, at firft, feemed almoft unavoidable. Montfleuri wifhes that I may remove to his houfe, in the Lyonois, as a jort of firil ftage towards England i but I have l86 t) E S M O N L». have been already too much obliged to him, and his filler, Madame de Boi(belle. He at- tended me himfelf day and night, while there was fo much danger, as Mr. Carniichael ap- prehended, for many days after the accident; and fince he has been abfent, his fifter, has with too much goodnefs given me her conftant attention. — Montfleuri has been to Paris, and returned only yefterday. He fees my uneafinefs fjnce the receipt of Mifs Waverly's letter Madame de Boifbelle too fees it, and what is worfe, my medical friends perceive it, from the ftate of my wound ; fo that as it is imp-nffi- bli fur me, my dear friend, either to conceal or conquer it, my fjle dependence for cither peace of nvnd, or bodily health, is on your friendly eftdeavours to remove it. How long, how very long, will the hours feem that mu[l intervene before I can hear that this is done ; and what fhall I do to beguile them? Montfleuri tali-is to me of politics, and exults in the hope that all will be fettk'd advan- tageoufly for his country, and without blood- flied ; I rejoice, moft fmcerely rejoice, in this profpeft, (o favourable to the belt interefts of humanity ; but I can no longer enter with cagernefs into the detail of thofe mezfures by which it is to be realized. — One predominant fenfation, excludes for the prefent, all the lively JBtereft I felt in more general concerns, and while Mrs. Verney is ' but it is not necefiary, furely to add more on this topic — No, my dear Bethel, you will, on fuch an oc- cafion, enter into my feelings from the genero- ilty of your own heart, and what ever that little touch of mifanthropy, which you have acquired, my lead you to think of human na- ture^ DESMOND. 187 ture in general — you will after my afleverations on this fubjeiSl, and I hope, after what you know of me, do juftice as well to the difintercfted nature of my love, as to the finccrity of that friendfhip, with which, I ever remain, moil affedlionately yours, LIONEL DESMOND. LET, D E 3 M O N G. LETTER XXT. TO MR. DESMOND, London, Dec. 17, 1790. THE moment I received your letter, I haftenod from Bath, where I then wa«, to London; determined to execute your comnnf- fion to the beft of my p©wer, though 1 neither approved it, or knew very well how to fet about it. Do not imagine, however, my dear Defmond, that I have a nund (o narrowed by a long converfe with the world, or an heart (o hardened by too much knowledge of its inhabi- tants, as to blame the liberality of your fenti- ments, or be infenhble to the pleafure of indul- ging them.. But here there is a fatal and jnfeparable bar to the fuccefs of every attempt you can make to befriend Mrs. Verney and her children; and the facility with which Verney finds himfelf delivered from one difficulty, only ferves to encourage him to plunge into others, liH total and irretrievable ruin iliall overtake hira» I was DESMOND. 189 I was aware of all the difficulties of the taflc vou fet me ; for it was by no means proper that the fmalleft fufpicionfliould arife as to the quar- ter from whence the money came that paid ofF thofe demands, which muft otherwife have brought all the effedls Verney had at his town- hnufe to fale within a very (hort time. — I have a friend in the law who, to great acutenefs, adds that moft rare quality, in an attorney, of ftrid DESMOND. 191 and her voice faultered (o as to become almoft inarticulate — ** I fear it is far from being cer- tain that he will ever be reflored to the ufe of his hand." That idea feemed fo diftreffing to her, that (he looked as if flie was ready to faint. 1 haftened, you may be aflured, to relieve her apprehenfions > and aflured h-er, that not only your hand would be well, but that you thought yourfelf infinitely overpayed for the inconveni- ence you had fuftained in your rencounter with the Chevalier de St. Eloy, fince you had been the means of faving her brother from a mar- riage fo extremely improper : then, to detach her thoughts from what I fawthey moft pain- fully dwelt upon, your hazard and fufFerings, I gave her an account I had learned from Mr. Carmichael* of the family of St. Eloy; and, as 1 found this ftill affected her too much, becaufe it excited her gratitude anew, towards you, by whofc interference Waverly had cfcaped from a connexion with it, I made a tranfition to the affairs of France : and knowing how well fhe could talk on every fubje<^, had a wifh to draw her out on this. The little I could obtain from her would have convinced me, had I needed fuch convic- tion, of the ftrcngth of her underftandingi, and that rcdtitude of heart, which is fo admirable ind fo rare. Yet, with ali this, there is no prelumption ; none of that anxiety to be heard, or that diclatorial tone of converfation that has fo often difgufted and repulfed me, in women who either have, or affetSl to have, a fuperiority of underlhnding. — Geraldine aft'ecls nothing ; * In a leuer that doci net «ppear, and, tgi DESMOND. and, far from appearing folicitous to be confidered as an oracle, (he faid, with an enchanting fmile, towards the clofe of our converfation — " I know not how I have ventured, Mr. Bethel, to (peak fo much on a fubjeit, which I am very willing to acknowledge, I have had no oppor- tunity of knowing well. — Mr. Vcrney, you know, is no politician, or if he were, he would hardly deign to convcrfe on that topic with a woman — for of the underftandings of all wo- men he has the moft contemptible opinion j and fays, ' that we are good for nothing but to make a (hew while v/e are young, and to be- come nurfes when we are old.' — 1 know that more than half the men in the world are of his opinion ; and that by them, what fome cele- brated author has faid, is generally allowed to be true — that a woman even of talents is only confidered by man with that fort of pleafure ■with which they contemplate a bird who fpeaks a few words plainly — I believe it is not exactly the expreflion, but, however, it is the fenfe of it i and, I am afraid, is the general fenfe of the world." I could not forbear interrupting here, to afTure her that if fuch an opinion was genera), mine was an exception ; for that 1 was convinced, ignorance and vanity were mvjch more fatal to that happinefs which every man feeks, or ought to feek, when he marries, than that knowledge which has been infidioufly called unbecoming in women. — I was going on, fori found myfelf abfolutely unable to quit her, when her hufband and the Lord Newminfter, whom you defcribed to me at Margate fome months fince, entered the room together. Verneyj n E 3 M o N n» i<5j Vcrncy, who ha? naturdlly a wild, unfcttled look, really (hocked inc. To an emaciated figure and unheahhy coudtenance, were added the difgufting appearance of a dtbauch of liquor not flept off; and clothes not fwice changed. — The other tnan was in even a worfe ft ate ; but as he was not married to Gcraldine, I looked at him only with' pity and difgiiftj while, towards Verney, I felt fomething like horror and deteftation. Geraldine turned pale when he was an- nounced ; and faid, in a low voice, as he came into the room—*' This is very unexprded, I have feen Mr. Verney only once for thefe laft five weeks" 1 would have retired, but fhe added, with an half-ftifledfigh-" Oh! no! do not go, you hear he has his friend Newminfler with him, and probably will not ftay five mi- nutes. — But if be [hould," added flie, as if fearing fhe had fpoken too much in a tone of regret and complaint — ** if he {hould, he will, 1 am fure, be happy to fee his old friend Mr, Bethel." At this inftani Lord Newminffer, followed by Verney, entered. — The ("ormsr appeared llu- pid fi;om the efFe6ls of his hi\ night, or rathsi;^ morning's caroufal; but Verney, who had ju^ heard that the credit. irs, who had the executi- on'-, in his houfe, wcreptiH, and the bailiffs witii- drawn, was not in a hiiinour to be reftrved, or even confiderato. Without Tpeaking to bis wife, he Clicok hands v/itb ine, and cried—- " Damme, Bethel, how long is it tince 1 favv you \di\ ? 1 thought you tvert- ^one to kingdom come.— Here's Newmmiier and I, we came only lafl night fron» hi? hcafe in Norfolk.— Damme, we came to raije r^< kvhv' t--.>.^s ther ; Vol, I. }•: foi 194 DESMOND. ■for I have had the Philiftines in my houfe, and be curfed co them, who had laid violent hands on all my goods and chatties, except my wife and her brats; but fome worthy foul, I know not who, has fent them off. — I wifh 1 could find out who is (o damned generous, I'd try to touch them a little for the ready I want now." Oh ! could you have feen the countenance of Geraldine, while this fpeech was uttering! — fhe was paler than ever; and was, I faw, quite unable to continue in the room (he therefore rofe, and faying her little boy was awake, who had continued to fleep in her lap during our converfation, fhe walked apparently with very feeble fteps out of the room ; the two other children following her — " away with ye all," cried the worthlefs brute their father, *' there, get ye along to the nurfery, that's the proper place for women and children." — The jook that Geraldine gave him, as {he pafled to the door, which 1 held open for her, is not to be defciibed — it was contempt, ftifled by con- cern — it was indignatioi fubdued by fhame and forrovv. — *' Good morning to you, Mr. Be- thel," lai-ifhe, as Ihe went by me — *' I know not how to thank you enough for this friendly vifir, or can 1 fay hov/ much my obligation will be in- creafed, if you will have thegoodnefs to repeat it ; pray let me fee you again before you leave London." — I afTured her I would wait on her with pleafure ; and I felt extremely unhappy as the door clofed after her, and 1 faw her no more. — " Well, now Bethel," faid the hufband, *' let me talk to you a little ; tell me — are not your horfes at Hall's, at Hyde Park Corner?" I anfwercd, " yes ;" — " aye? then you're the man DESMOND. 195 fiian I want ; — you've got a hellifb clever trot- ting mare, one of the niceft things I've feen a long time; — have you a mind to fell her ?" . *' Certainly no." s: ** I am forry for it, for I want juft fuch a thing. Don't you remember a famous trotting galloway I had, two years ago, that 1 bought at Tatterfal's, that would go fifteen miles within the hour — ^^I've loft: him by a curfed accident, and 1 want one as fpeedy — damme. Bethel, I'll give you a hundred for your little mare, and I'll be curs'ofi:dl]r to fleep. To tgS DESMOND. 'I^o any young woman, however flight may ,be her pretennons, the marked ncgle£l of a man of Lord Newminfter's age is ufually fuffi- eiently mortifying: but to Fanny V/averiy, who has been accullomed to exceflive flattery and adulation ever fince flie left the nurfery, this rude inattention mufl: have appeared infup- portably infulting, and I forgave the little afpe- ritytlierc i^as in her manner, when (he faid to me witli a fmile of indignant contempt, and pointing to Newminfter, who was, I really be- lieve, in a found fleep — " An admirable fpe- cimen of the manners of a modern man of fa- fhion/' Verney, who had been giving dire^ions to bis fervant at the door of the room, now return- ed to it — *' Aha ! little Fanny," faid he, " are you there? — How doft do, child? — Plchoop» hohoop, Newminfter, it is time to go, my lad — ^come, let us be off." *• Have you feen your wife, Sir ?" faid Mifs Waverly very gravely — '* Yes, my dear Mi fa Frances," replied he in a drawling tone of ?pimickry, ** / bave feen my wife, looking for all the world like Charity and herthree children •over the door of an hofpitaL — " *' She fliould not only /ooi Charity," retorted Fanny fmartly, " but feei it, or fhe would ^ever be able to endure your monftrous btha- .viour." " Pretty pettifh little dear," cried he " how this indignation animates your features — Anger, Mifs Fanny, renders you abfolutely piquant — My wife now — my grave, folemn, fage Ipoufe, is not half fo aga^ant with her chari'y and all her virtues." ■ .■j\,-. , : . / " That DESMOND. 199 *' That (he poflefTcs all virtue?, Sir, muft be her merit folely, for never woman had fo poor encouragement to cherifh any — \V hen one ccn- fiders that (he fnfftrs youf her charity cannot be doubted : her faithy in relying upon you, is alfo exemplary ; and one laments that (o con- neiSted, (he can have nothing to do with Hope—" Fanny Waverly then left the room,' and as I was going before (he came in, I now bowed (lightly to the two friends and went out at the fam»^ time. — When we came into the next room fhe (lopped, and would have fpoke, but her heart was full — flie fat down, took out her handkerchief, and burft into tears. '* 1 beg your pardon, Mr. Bethel," faid fhe, fobbing, " but I cannot command myfelf, when 1 refledl on the fituation cf my poor fifter and her children} when 1 meet that unfeeling man, and know, too well, what niulv be the confequence of his condud." • She was prevented by her emotion from pro- ceeding, and I took that opportunity of faying, ** There is nothing new I hope, my dear Mifs Waverly ? nothing, jufr at this moment, to give you deeper concern, or more uneafy apprehen- Jions for Mrs. Verney ?" *' Oh ! no," replied (lie, *' nothing very new — fince the two executions w hich have been liere this fortnight, cannot be called very recent circumllances j they were paid off by I know not what means j and the officers who were in polTeffion of tlie efFe^fls, difmilfed only yellerJay, yet to-day this unhappy man returns ; and re- turns with an avowed intention, as his conhd-^n- tial fervant has been faying below, toraife mort: money. Oh ! Mr, Bethel, could you imar;ine ^ all 3tOO D E s M O N E>. all my filler has endured in this frightful period, during which fhe has only once feen her huf- band — could you imagine what foe has endured, and have witnefTcd the fortitude, the patience, the courage fhe has Ihewn, while fuffering not only pain and weaknefs, but all the horrors of dreading the approach of ruin for her children! you would have faid, that the remembrance of that perfonal beauty, forivhich (he has bieen fo celebrated, was loft and eclipfed in the admira- tion raifed by her underftanding." ** In my fhort conference with her," anfwer- ed I, ** all this was indeed vifible, and could not efcape the obfervation of one already im- preffed with the hightft opinion of your ufle'r from the report of Mr. Defmond." At the jiame of Defmond, a deep blufli over- fpread the face of the fair Fanny. Not fuch as thdt which wavered for a moment oil the faded cheek of her lovely fifter, when the blood, for a moment, forfaking the heart, was recalled thither by a confcioufnefs that it fliould not exprefs too warmly the fentiments that fent it forrh — Fanny's blufo fpoke a diffe- rent, chough not Icfs expreflive language, and tlie tears tbat wtre trembling in her eyes, were a moment checked whilt iTie clafped her hands togi^thrr, and cried eagcily — ^^ Defmond! — Oh ! how i adore the very name of Defmond ! — To him — ^lo your noble friend it is owing, Mr. Bethel, that while i lament the fate of a fifter, 1 do not weep over the equally miferable deftiny of a brother." 1 have feen Fanny Waverly in the ball-rooms at Bath admired by the men, and envied by the women J and, with all the triumphant con- fcioufnefs of beauty, enjoying the voluntary and invalun- DESMOND. 201 invo1«ntary tribute thus paid to her ; but I never till now thoi'tjht her fo handfonie, for I never till now thought her interefting — So much more attraction does unafFc<5ted ft-nfibility lend to per- fonal perfection, than it acquires from the giddy flattering airs, infpired by frjfifh vanity — Yes, indeed, my friend, Fanny Waverly is a very charming young woman, and I was fo much pleafed with every thing (he faid of you, and of her own family during the reft of our fiiort converfation, that I have fince indulged myfelf in fancying that k is not at all impolfible for you to transfer to her the afFedion, which while you feel it for her fifter, cannot fail to render you unhappy, and which, pcihaps,. may be at- tended with fatal confequences to the object of your love. — If your attachment to Geraldine is really as pure and difinterefted as you have often called it, it might equally exift were you the hufband of her fifter, and fuch an alliance would put it much more in your power than it can ever be otherwife, to befriend and afllft her and her children — But I know this is an afi'air in which you will tell me the heart is not to be commanded, and therefore 1 wiM no longer dwell upon it, th in delpjte of mifrepre fen tat ions, allow; but while 1 contempl.ue, with infinite fatisfaftion, this great and noble effort for the univerfal fights of the human race, I behold, with ap- prehenfion and difquiet, (uch an hoft of foes arife to render it abortive, that I hardly dare indulge thofe hopes in which you are fo fan- guine, that uncemented by blood, the noble and fimply fnajeftic temple of liberty will arife on the fcite of the barbarous ftrudure of gothic tlefpotifm. To fay nothing of thofe doubts which have arifen from the want of unanimity and fteadi- nefs among thofe who are immediately entruftcd with its conftruilion, 1 rtfie<^ with fear on the force that i3 united to impede its completion, or deftroy it when complete. Not only al! the defpots ot Europe, from thofe dealers in human blood, the petty princes of Germany, to the Sanguinary witch of all the K ufTias, but the go» vernmcnis, which are yii called Umitted menar- itiesy and even thofe vhich ft ill pafs as repub- lics — in every one of thefe the governments, Wijl we know, pay the venal pen, and the mer- cenary fwordag.Jnft it— fome openly j the others 3K far as they dare, without roufing, too dan- gerpvflyj the indignation of thtii own fubje£ls — In all ihefe ftates, there are great bodies of people, whofe intcrell, which is what wholly Jtcides their opit.ion, is diametrically oppofite to all rtform, and, of courfe, to the reception of thofe truths which may promote it — Thefe bodies are formed of the ariftocracies, their re- lations, dependtnis, and parafittrs, a nulmerous and formiiiablf phalanx Hierarchies, whofe Uurnin^ and eloquence are n.Uurklly exerted in a caufe D B S M O N O. 205 caufe which involves their very cxiftence. An immenfe number of placemen and penfioners^ who fee that thedifcuffion of political queflions, leads inevitably to fhew the people the folly and injuilicc of their paying by heavy taxes for imaginary and non-exifting fervices — Crowds of lawyers, who, wereequal juftice once cflab- li(hed, could not be enriched and ennobled by explaining what they have themfelves continued to render inexplicable — And laft, not Iea(V, % very numerous defcription of people, who, be- ing from their participation of thefe en^oluments, from family poffeffions, or from fticcefsful com- merce, at eaie themfelves, indolently acquiefce in evils which do not affedt them, and who, when mifery is defcribed, or oppreffion com- plained of, fay, " What is all this to us, we fufFer tKither ? and why (hould we be difturbed for thnfe who do?"—" Chi ben fta, non fi mouve*,*' fays the Italian proverb.— -In ihort, my friend, I do not, as feme politicians have affe^led to do, doubt the virtue of the French nation, and fay ibty are too corrupt to be rege- nerated — I doubt rather that huropean ftates in general, will not lufFer them to throw off the corruption, but unite to perpetuate to them what tiKy either do fubmit to, or are willing to fuhmil to themfelves — I rather fear, that liberty having been driven away to the new world, will eftablUh there her glorious empire — and to Eu- rope, funk in luxury and efferriinacy — ener- vated and degenerate Europe will return no more. Let me, dear Defmond, hear foon from your •wn hand, that )ou are content with the fuc- • Thofe who are well fituaud d«fire not to move. Cffs 206 DESMOND. cefs of my negotiation, and with this long ac- count of thofe for whom you are interefted. — Let me learn alfo your future defigns, as to re- turning to England, or ftaying on the Conti- nent, and above all, that you continue to be- lieve me, with fmcere attachment, Your's, afFc£tionately, E. BETHEL. Continue, I beg of you, to write by another hand till you can ufe your own, and let me have the fl'ietches of fuch converfation as you may have during your convalefcencc — I mean thofe on political or general topics, and not, of courfe, the more refined ^1)6 fentlmental d'\z\og\\zs which you may hold with Madame de Boijbelle — hy the way, 1 do not quite underftand what you mean by faying in your laft: letter, that you become every day more unworthy thceflreem of Geral- dine — You jurely think very humbly of yourfelf.^ LET- y » E s M O N D. 207 LETTER XXII. Marfeilles, 8tli Jan. ijgt. THE firft letter I was able to write, was toGeraldine — This, my dear Bethel, is thefe- cond ; and it is with extieme pleafure I thank you for your immediate attention to my requell, and the propriety with which you feeni to have conducted fo troublefome a commiflion — I thank you too for your long letter, and the account, painful as it is, of the fcene you faw at Verney's — Gracious heaven ! why is it, that fuch a cruel facrifice was ever made ? But I dare not t.'uft myfelf on this fubjevfi, and have made an hundred refolutions never to mention it more; yet, how avoid writing on what conflanily oc- cupies niy mind? — how difmifs from thence, even for a moment, what weighs fo heavy on my heart ? Let me, liowever, allure you Bethel, that though I have no hope, I had almoft faid no wifn, ever to be more to this lovely, injured woman, than a fond, afFeilionaie b'ot ler — yet, that I will never niuiry fanny Wavcrly. I believe 208 DESMOND. I believe that the advantageous pi<3urc you have drawn of her is not a flattering one — 1 admire her perfon, and think well of her underftanding — The>fymptcms of fcnfibiJity and of attach- ment to her lifter whi h you difcovered in her, certainly add thofe attra<3ions to her character, in which, I know not why it appeared to me to be dcfe(fiive — -—If I had a brother whom 1 loved, and whom I wifhed to fee happ ly mar- ried, it would be to Fanny Waverly I fhould wifti to direct his choice But for myfelf — = No, Bethel, it is now out of the queftion ; we will fpeak of it then no more j but I will haften to thank you for thofe parts of your long and welcome letter that were meant lo detach my thoughts from thofe fources of painful and fruitlefs regret, which 1 am, perhaps, too fond of cherifhing— Fain, very fain would 1 ihake them ofF, my friend, but i cannot— «nay, I am denied the confolation of talking to you on pa- per of all I feel— 1 have often been very un- happy, but 1 never was qute fo wretched as I am at this moment. My anxiety for the fate of Geraldine tears me to pieces, and I cannot re- turn to England immediately, where 1 fhould, at leaft, be relieved from the long and infiip- portable hours of fufpence which the diftanec now obliges me to undergo — If 1 could not fee her, at leaft I could hear once or twice a week of her fituation, and might, perhaps, be fo fortunate as to ward off fome of thole mif- fortunes to which from her hulband's conduiSl fhe is hourly expofed. Do nor, however, be alarmed on account of my healtn ; 1 believe I could now travel without anyhazar ', but there are circumftances which render it difficult for me to quit this part ot France immediately. — My friend Montlleuri prefl'es me extremely to return return for fome time to his houfe, and I once propofed doing fo, but now I cannot do that, but ftiall, 1 believe, as foon as I am quite well enough to be difmifl'ed from the care of Mr. Carmichael, go by flow journies towards Swit- zerland, and from thence to Italy — This, how- ever, depends upon events j and you will fee by the manner in which this is written, that I do not at prefent boaft of fo perfect a reftoration to health as to make any immediate determina- tion necefTary. I perfedlly agree with you in the flatement you have made of thofe caufes which has made many of the Englifli behold the French revolution with relu£tance, and even abhorrence, To thoie caufes you might have added themifreprefentati- ons that have been fo induftrioufly propagated; all the tranfient mifchicf has been exaggerated ) and we hive in the overcharged picflure loft fight of the great and permanent evils that have been removed — All the good has been concealed or denied, and the former government, which we ufed to hold in abhorrence, has been fpoken of with prsifc and regret — This is by no means wonderful, when we confider how m.iny among ourfelves are afraid of enquiry, and tremble at the idea of inno\ation How many of the French, with whom we converfe in England, Are avanturiersj who feize this op^ ortunity to avail thcmfelves of imaginary con1equ<-nce, and defcribe ihemfelves as men fufFeiing for their loyal adherence to their king ; and ..s having loft their all in the caufe of injured loyalty— We believe and pity them, taking ail their la- mentable ftoiies for granted — whereas the truth is, that no property has been forcibly taken ffom its poileft'Qrs — none is intended to be taken —and 2l6 DESMOND. — and thefe men who defcribe themfelves as robbed, had, many of them, nothing to lofe — Half the Knglifh, however, who hear of thofe fiditious diftrelTes, are intereiied in having them credited, and cry, " Thefe are the blefled ef- fe£ls of a revolution .' — Thefe private injuries arife from the raihnefs and folly of touching the fettled conftitution of a country !" — While others, too indolent toafkeven the fimple quef- tion — ^' Is this true? — are the individuals thus injured r" fhrink mto themfelves, and fay, *' Well ! 1 am fure we have reafon to be thanii.- ful that there is no fuch thing among us." But though I have long been thoroughly aware, both of the interefted prejudice, and indolent apathy, which exifts in England, i own I never expecled to have feen an elaborate treatife in favor of defpotifm written by an £n- glifhmanj v/ho has always been called one of the moft fleady, as he undoubtedly is one of the moft able of thofe who are efteemed the friends of the people — Ynu will eafily compre- hend that I allude to the book lately publiihed by Mr. Burke, which I received three days fmce from England, and have read once. I will not enter into a difcuffion of it, though the virulence as well as the mifreprcfentation with which it abound^, lays it alike open to ridicule and contradi6lion— Abufive declmna- tion can influence only fuperficial or prepollelled underftanding Thofe who cannot, or who will not fee, that fine founding periods are not arguments — that poetical imagery is not matter of fail. I forefee that a tbcufaad pens lui/l leap frotn ths'ir JiandiJ}:)es (to parody a fublimc {t\\- tence of his own) to ar.fwer fuch a book — I forefee that ic wiH cal! fo;th all the talents that are DESMOND. 211 are yet unbought (and which, I trulV, are un- purchafeablt) in t ngland, and therefore 1 re- juice that it has btcn written, fiiicc, far from iinallv injuring the caufc of truth and rea!on againft which Mr. Burke is fo inveterate, it will awaken every advocate in tbt-.r defence. One of the moft ftriking of Uioie well-drcflld abfurdities with which lie infults the under- ftanding of his country, is chat which forcibly reminds me of the arguments in favor of abfo- lute power, brought by bir Robert Fihrier in that treatife, of which Locke deigned to tntcr into a refutation — This advocate of unlimited government derives the origin of monarchies from Adam, and aflerts, that *' Man, not be- ing born free, could never have the liberty to chufe either governors or formsof government." He carric:, however, his notion of this inca- pacity farther than Mr. Burke; according to him, man, in general, having been born in a ftate ct fervitude fince Adam, can never in any cafe have had a right to chufe in what way he would be governed — Mr. Burke feems to air low that iume fuch right might ha\e exifted among Engiifhmen, previous to the year 1688, but that then they gave it up for themielves and their poftenty for ever. It was miglitily the fafhion when I left Eng- land, ;or the enemies of the revolution in France, to treat all that was advanced in its favor, as novelties — as the flimfy fpeculations of unpra6lifed politicians — or the artful mifrer prefentations of men of defperate fortunes and ^vild ambition. Precedent, however, which kems" gaining ground, and ufurping the place of common fenfe in our ccurts, may here be united with found rcafon — if reafun be allowed t^ thofe 212 DESMOND. thofe great men towards whom we have hoca taught to look with acquiefcence and venera- tion. ** When fafhion,'* fays Locke, " has once Ain<5lioned what folly or craft began, cuftom makes it facred, and it will be thought impu- dence or madncfs to contradict or queftion it." This impudence and madnefs feems by the ve- nal crew, whofc intereft it is that no quejiions fhould arife, to be imputed to sW who venture to defend the condud of the patriots flrugglmg for the liberties of France ; Mr. Burke now loads them with the imputation, not only of impudence and madncfs, but with every other crime be cai> imagine, and involves in the (ame venture, thofe of his own countrymen, v-ho have d.ired to rejoice in liie fr.'dom of France, and to fupport the caufe of political and civil liberty throughout the world. Now, without committing myfelf to enter into any thing like an argument with fo redoubtable an adverfary j and with a view foleiy to cfcape the cenfure of broaching novelties.^ let me quote a fentence in Locke on Civil Government, which among the few books I have accefs to, I happen to have procured, in fpeaking of conquefV, he fays, *•• This concerns not their children, (the children of the conquered) for lince a fdther hath not in himfelf a power over the life and liberty of his child, no aGl of his own can pof- ilbly forfeit it; fo that the children^ whatever may have happened to the fatners, are free raen ; and the abfoiute power of the conquered reaches no farther than the perfons of Che men' who were fubdued by him, and dies with them, uid ihould be govern tiiem as ilavcs, fubjeded to DESMOND. tlj to his abfohite power, he has no fuch right of dominion over their children — he can have no power over them but by their own tonfent ; and lie has no lawful authority while force, not choice, compels them to fubmiflion." If conqueftdoes not bind pofterity, fo neither, can compact bind it. Mr. Burke does not di- rectly aff^rt whatever difpofition he fhews to do io^ that nothing can be changed or amended in' the conftitution of England, becaufe the fa- mily who now are on the throne derive their facred right (through a bloody and broken fuc- ceflion) from William the baftarei of Norman- dy ; but he maintains, that every future altera- tion, however necelFary, is become impoffiblc, fince the compact made for all future genera- tions, between the Prince of Orange, and the felf-ele£le^l Parliament who gave him the crown in 1688 — So, that if at any remote period it (hould happen, what cannot indeed be imme- diately apprehended, that the crown fhould de- fcend to a prince more profl gate than Charles the Second, without his wit; and morecarelefs of the welfare and profperity of his people than James the Second, without his piety; the Englifb muft fubmit to whatever burthens his vices (hall impofe — to whatever yoke the ty- ranny of his favourites fhallinfli(f^j becaufex\iey arc bound by the compadt of 1688, to alter nothing that the conftitution then framed, bids thf m ^nd their children fubmit to ad infinitum.. 1 have been two days writing this letter, ^tfktk a weak and trembling hand, 1 now, therefore, dear Bethel, bid you adieu ! 1 entreat you to write to me as often as poflible, for if 1 quit this place, your letters will follow me. — 1 re- commcnd 10 you, as the moft cffential kindhef^ jou '214 DESMOND. you can do me, to attend to that intered, which is infinitely dearer to me than my own, and with repeated acknowledgments of all your kindnefs on a thoufand other occafions, but above all on the laft. I entreat you ever to be- lieve me Your's moft gratefully and affectionately, LIONEL DESMOND, f^ L £ T- DESMOND. 215 LETTER XXIIL TO MRS. V E R N E Y. Bath, luh Feb. 1791. I WA S uiieafy, my dear Sifter, at your not writing, and fince you have written, I am more uneafy flill. The account you give me of yourfelf and the baby frighten me — Dreary as the feafon i?, 1 now join with you in wifhing you in the country — I beg your pardon if my frankncfs ofFends you; but I cannot help fay- ing, you know too well, that your hufband really cares not where you are, and will not op- pofe your going if you defire it, but will, pro- bably, be glad to have ycu out of the way — My dear Geraldine, it gives me the fevered pain to be compelled to write thus, and to break the injunction you have fo often laid on me, not to fpeak my thoughts fo freely of Verney — Your health is at ftake, and I forget every thing elfe. After all, what do 1 fay, that you have not yourfelf faid internally a thoufand tirries, though your delicate fenfeof duty (duty tofuch a manl} 2l6 DESMOND, a man !) makes you acquiefcein patleirt filenre, under injuries that would have made nineteen women in twenty fly out of his houfe, and plav the deuce in abfolute defperation ? — How is it pofltble that you can help being confcious of your perfcdtions, and of his deferving them fo little? — Can you fail to feel, and to compare? •—It is impofRble but that you muft at That fate repine. " Which threw • pciirl before a fwine." There is a quotation from me, which you will allow to be, at leaft, a novelty. It will hardly, however, procure my pardon for its pertncfs, and therefore, I pray you, my dear Geraldine, to forgive me ; or, if you are a little hungry, I will learn to bear it, if you will but exert yourfelf (if exertion be neceflary) to go into the country and be well. Ton io not fay a word of Mr. Defmond, and /can think and talk of nobody elfe — In hopes of hearing fomething of him, I have endu-ed the mifery of long converfation with that odd ©Id animal his uncle Major Danby — The for- mal twaddler loves to tell long ftories', and can feldom get any body to hear them, unlefs he can feize upon fome ftranger who does not know him, iind thefe becoming every day more Scarce, be has taken quite a fancy to me, be- caufe he finds I liften to him with uncommon patience, and do not yawn above once in ten ininutes. The goflipping people here (of which heaven knows there arc plenty) have already obfervfd our tite-a tite^ and begin to whifper to each other that iVIifs Waverly has hook'd the rich old M;jyr — 1 like of alU*things liiat they jftjouid bclit'-e it, and am ia hopes of being in the DESMOND. 217 the Loftdon papers very foon, among the trea- ties of marriage. — What do you think DcC- mond would fay to it ? — Do you think he would like fuch a fmart young aunt i* — Poor fellow! — • I have not been able to get at much intelligence about him, and what I have heard is very pain- ful — His uncle has only heard lately, that his health is much impaired by long confinement, and that he is yet unable to travel towards Eng- land ; but 1 hope the old croker made the worft of it to me — He perfills in Aiying, that his ne- phew could not have met with fuch an accident in England, as if people here did not flioot one another every day, for reafons of much Icfs moment, or for no reafon at all — But though I have attempted, whenever he would hear me, to rep.efent this, ai.d to explain and dwell upon the generofity of Dcfmond's conduv?^, 1 have not yet fucceedsd in convincing him, that it was friendfh'p to my brother, and not any po- litical matter that inv...lv(.'d his nephew in this difp\Jte — The gnoJ Major, indeed, cannot com- prehend how friendfhip ihould lead another to incur danger, for he hjd never in his life that fort of feeiing, which tliould make him gc half a n)!le out of his way to ferve any body. Ti:is I hav^ frequently heard from thofe who knev/ him as a young irtanj and I believe fenfibility a-nd philanthropy arf qualities that do not en- creafe with year*; — He retaiiis now nothing of the ingenuous freedom of the foldier, but all th^ hiiTdnefs which a military life fometinics giver, and in quitring it, he k. eps only the worit part of a profoflion, that is laid to make b^d men worfe-^l don't know why 1 have faid io much about him, unlcfs it is becaufe I have noihiuo to fay of Defmond, and vet cannot Vol. I. L cnurely 2l8 DESMOND. entirely quit the fubjeiSl — He provoked me this morning in the pump-room, by {landing up, and in his fharp, loud voice, giving an account, to two or three people that were Grangers to him, of the accident that had happened to his ne- phew in France. An old, upright woman, who was, I immediately faw, a titled goflip, liflened for fome time very attentively, and then enquired, in a canting fort of whine, if the affair had not been owing to the troubles? — The Major, delighted to have a Lady Bab Frightful intereft herfelf in his ftory, began it again, and I ran out of the place, half deter- mined, that not even the wifh 1 cannot help feeling to hear now and then of Defmond from him, (hoLild tempt me again to enter into con- verfation with this ftory-telling old bore. My mother, who generally agrees totheopi-. rion of her acquaintance, if they happen to be rich, and who is not unwilling to have the obli- gation DefT!ond has laid us all under, lightened by fuppofing fonie part of the quarrel with the Chevalier de St. tloy, to have originated in a difference of political opinion, really encourages the Major in his notion, and when they get to- gether, I lofe my patience entirely. To your enquiry, how my mother is in health, I can afTure you, i have not feen her fo well thefe laft eighteen months, and fhe is now fo often in company, is at fa many card parties abroad, and has fo many pariii s at home, that, without having been much mifl'ed, 1 mignt have ftaid with you much longer ; however, I did what appeared to us to be my duty in returning, and 1 muft not regret it, though very certain it is, that all the maternal atfedtions of my mother are more than ever engrofled by her fon — She is ncMT DESMOND. 2.9 now impatiently expeiSing his arrival, and quef- tioning every body (he fees, about the probable length of his voyage from Leghorn It is amazing to me, that with all this tendernefs and anxiety for him, (lie feels no gratitude, or fo little, towards the man, without whofe inter- pofition, he would never have returned at all —I alfo wonder it does not occur to her, that it is far from being ccrfain he did embark at Leghorn the time he propofed to do fo — P'or myfelf, I {hould not be at all furprized to hear from him at Rome, nor intleed, to learn that he was again the captive of Mademoifelle de St. Eioy — Let me not, however, my fivter, add anticpitated to the real evils with vvhicli you feem deftined lo contend— All will yet be well — Defmond will return in perfefl health, and brighter days await us. Let me hear frogi you at Icaft twice a week, and believe me ever, with true afFc^ion, your FANNY. LETTER XXIV. TO MISS WAVERLY. Sheen, near RiclimonJ, Feb, 19, 1791. I H A V E delayed anfwering your letter my Fanny, till to-day, though I have been in pofieflion of it above a week, languor alone would not have caused this omiflion, but I have been bulled in my little removal to a lodginc^ I have taken here, as Dr. Warren declared'' it *to be neceflary, both on my own account, and on that of the mfant I fuckle, that I ihonld remove from London. Mr. Verncy, I know not why, refolutely oppofed my going into Yorkfhire, L 2 nor 2^0- DESMOND. nor could my entreaties, or the opinion. of the phyfician, obtain any other anfwer than that my going thither would be inconvenient to him ■ — I have, alas ! no longer the houfe in Kent to which 1 was (o attached, and therefore, rather becaufe it is my duty to try to live than becaufe I wi(b- to live — rather for the fake of my poor children than my own — I employed a friend in this neighbourhood to look out for apartments for me, v/here I could have accommodations for my three children, three fervants, and my- felt — fuch he fortunately found in a tolerably plcafant fituation, and at a reafonable price, a conrideration lo which I muff no longer be in- difFtrent. Small, however, as the difference is, be- tween my living here or in Seymour- flreer, and- careiefs of my being cither at one place or ano- ther, as you too j iftly obferve Mr. Verney to he; 1 own I remarked, and remarked with re- doubled an^uifli of heait, that this additionil expence, thou'^h pro;iounced to l>e abfolutely neceiTary to my exiftence, and that of his child, is fubmittcd to with rtludlance by Mr. Verney • — I check myfelf, Fanny — I will not murmur — and I will even reprove you, my fii^er, for encouraging me in thofe repi-nings, which, though 1 cannot always reprefs, I know it is vvio.ng to indulgr — Do not, my love, te^ch me to yield too eafily to a feiifibility of evils, w.J;iicb, fince they are without remedy, it is bet- ter to bear wiih equality of mind, and with re- Tignation of tieari — A'as ! mine is. but too apt to feel aH the miferifs of its ^ciiiny— but my children and m.y.duty.m.uft and fVall teach ma- ta fub,m,it unreplningly to fulfil the latter, for the fake of the former— ? IVheii innocent imiies repay ms^.for many hours of anxiety,, and while I they DESMOND. 2H they are well around me, I believe I can bear any ihino. YoLi conrl.>'ne bacic to his houfe in Kent, that houfe fo ncir the place which I can- not help regreiting — Had it not been fold, I tould have gone ihitiier now, 1 might have f.cn Mr. Bethel continually, he is an excellent nian, and is fo much attached to Defmond, lilat it is plcafant to hciir him fpeak of him, in- deed he is the only perfon vvho does juftice to thufe noble qualities of heart and underllanding that Defmond fo eminently pc^fleiles, but of which three parts of the v/orld know not the value. Yet I know not whether it was only my be- ing myielf in dreadfully low fpirits, when I laft faw Air. Bethel, or whether he was himfelf in a dirtrcded (iate of mind, but methought he fpoke in a very reluctant and defponding way about Defmond, thoijgh he afTured me that he was entirely out of danger of any kind from the wound, and that the lofs of the ufe of his hand was nu longer apprehended — But i found Mr. Bethel knows nothing certainly of Defmond's iuiure intentions; and if he did not deceive me aboui his health, there is alTuredly Ibuie other . " circum- DESMOND. 223 circumftance relating to him that makes Bethel uaealy — He Ciid much of^ tlie friciidlliip Mon- iieur de Montfleuri had fhewn to Dcfmond in attending him, and of his fiftcr too ; that Ma- dame de'Boifbeile, who has, it is faid, been his nurCc the whole time. I fuppofcd, when I firft heard of her attendance on Mr. Defrnond, that file had been a widow, as it Teemed unlikely fhe could otherwife have been fufTicieuily at liberty for fuch an exertion of friendihip, but Mr. Be- thel informed me (lie is n;i>rried, but very un- happily, and that her hufbaiid, a bankrupt both in fame and fortune, is an emigrant, and is either in Germany or England — Mr. Bethel fays the lady, who is extremely beautiful, is now entirely dependant on tiie Marquis de Montfleuri her brother, whom llie cannot oblige more than by the attention ihi: has fhevi^ to his friend — Ho-ff fortunate ihe is in having fuch a brother, how doubiy for:ana;e in being allowed to (hew her gratitude to him, by giv- ing h^T /j/iir'y attendance to fuch a man as DqC- mond — Beautiful and accompliined as Mr. Be- thel defcribes htr to be, metis ii>ks I envy her nothing but the opportunity Ihe has had to foothe tiis hours of pain and confinement. 1 ufed to think once, that Dcftnond had a very friendly regard for me, but now, in how diffe- rent a light he mull conhder us — / have been the caufe of his fufferings — it has been the en- viable lot of Madame de Boifbcjle to foften and alleviate them — Mr. Bethel fays he caljs her Jofephine — If her good fortune Ihould ftiil pre- vail, and her hufband fnould not return from the hazarCous exploits in which, it is laid, his political principles are likely to engage him, (he will, perhaps, become /j/i J ofephint, for 1 have perfuadcd myfclf that his long ftay in Fiance is n«w 224 n E S M G N D. now more owing to the tender gratitude he muft feel for this l.idy, than to any necefiity ht is in, on account of indifpofiUun, to remain there. And now my Funny, indeed, I cannot con- clude without availing my.rjfof my elder/hip once more, to entreat that yuu would confider whether it would not be better to check that flippancy with which you are too apt to accuf- tom yourfelf to fpeak of our mother. Admit- ting that fhe has the fo'bles you reprefent, of courting the rich — of being too partial to her fon, it is not her children v/ho {hould point them out to the obfeivation and ridicule of others—Believe me, my fifter, there is nothing lb injurious to that dfJicate fennbility which you realty pofTefs, as indulging this petulance — By degrees, it will become habitual, and the iittlc afp^'fitie^', which you h'ow g've vvay toon- Jv, -'erhrips,. a\ '.Vi-i;;.+g or in fpuaklng to nic, Will fcon be lb (nuch matter of courfc ihat ynu will forget their tendency, and , be inrerkfibifi of their impropriety — It is true, that I have not l:ved fo much longer in the v/orld as to be able to fpeak much froin experience; but, from the J'lttle 1 have feen of that world more than y-'i< bave, I think I may venture to aflert, that where families are divided among themfelves — ■ I mean, where the father or mother difagree with th€ children, or the brothers and fifters with each other, ther€ is fomething very wrong among them all, and I proteft to you, that were I a man, not beauty, wir, and fortune united, {hould eno;ape mc; to marry a woman who {liew- ed a want of duty and gratitude towards either of her parent^, but particularly towards her mother — Were I madly in love, 1 am con- vaicedy that any thing like tb« ridicule of a daughter D E S M C N D. 225 daughter fc» direfled, vvuuld produce a radical and immediate cure. Here let me drop the fubjeil, I hope fof ever, and to begin one that, I trult, will make amends for any little pain this may ha e in- flicted ; let me tc'l you, that fince I have been he:e, I have found my health and that of my babv, fenubly anend, and that I now hop? I Ciali not be compelled to wean him, though I am not happy, though 1 know 1 never can be fo, I have, at le-ift, obtained a trartiient calm. The agitation occafioned by tlve late painful events, is gradually, though llovvly fubfiding; I can now return to my books with attention lefs difUaci-ed, and have been reading a defcrip- tion of fome of the fouthern parts of Kurope, particularly of the Lyonois, &c. — -I Ihould like extremely to fee thofe accounts wnich I find Mr. Defmond fends to his fiiend Bethel, be- caufe he has fo much talle, and is fo intelligent a traveller — ["here was no poflibility you know of afking in plain terms for this indulgence, I hinted it as much a? I dared, though Bethel did not, or perhips would not undcriiand me — But to return to myfvlt, and what you would think melancholy, thougn it is not to are an un- pleafai^ way of paliiag my time — Dreary as the ieafon \et i_s 1 hjve b-i'tik-n myf.lf to my foii- tary walks in the filds that furround this houfe, which, for a fituation fo near Lon.Jon, is ex- tremely pleafant, and quiie retired- — I find the perfect fecJulion, the uninterrupted tranqiiil- lity i enjoy now, fo(ii.hiiig to myfpirits, and of courfe, bsnefijial to my health, if 1 do but hear favourable accounts from the contin-'nt, and nothing iitw haoiJens embarra{/i»jg in tlie peca- niary affairs oT Mr. Verney, I lliall oc f>>on re- ftored 10 as cheeffal a {bte as i atn now iik ly L 5 ever ^26 DESMOND. ever to enjoy — Alfift the progrefs of my refto- r^tion, my deareft Fanny,- by frequent letters, iince I cannot have the delight of your company, and cheer with your vivacity, which I love (even in reproving its wildeft Tallies. ) Your affectionate GERALDINE. I had but jufl fealed my letter, when a pac- qu.t was brought me from Defmond himfeJf — Ye?, my Fanny, a letter written with his own hand, and not with fo much apparent wealc- neis as one would imagine — I hope there is no- thing improper in the exce/Iive pleafure this let- ter gives me — Gratitude can furely never be wrong, or if it can be carried to excefs, its excefs is here pardonable — 1 know not what 1 would fay, my fpiriis are fo fluttered— This welcome letter has been very long incoming, 1 will fend you a copy of it in a poll or two — Hcavcu biefs i'.iij my Fanny. LETTER XXV. TO MP. DESMOND. HartfielJ, March i8th, 1791. J VV A S in hopes, my dear Defmond, that long before this, i fnould have fpoken to you once more in England, inftead of diredting to you in Switzerland. Your letter of the 30th J-:.r:.ary *, bade me fanguincly hope this, I therefore forbore to write ; but inftead of feeing )ou reftored to health, to tranquillity, and your country, 1 receive a melancholy letter hifCii the pays de l^aucl — Ytt you aflure me that * Which dcct act appea/. your DESMOND. 227 your arm no longer reoiincls you of your acci- dent, and I truft to your afTurances, as well as to the evidence of your handwiiting — You tell me alfo, that your health is much amended, why then, my friend, this extraordinary de- preflion of fpiHts ? — I own I am made uneafy, extremely uneafy, in obferving it, and cannot help lamenting that your time, your talent?, and your temper, are thus wafted and deftroyed —Is it, that this fatal paffion ftill obfcures your days ? or is there, as indeed I ftrongly fufpe6l, is there fome other fource of unealinefs more recent, to which I am a ftranger ? It has been a rule with me, even while you were, in fome meafure, under my guardianfhip, never, dear Defmond, to intrude upon you with officious enquiries, nor to afk more of your confidence than you chofe to give me — Friendfhip, like the fcrvice of heaven, fhouid be perfc6l free- dom ; yet forgive me, if for once I intrude upon your referve with curioiity that arifes folcly from my regard for you — Is. there in this any circumftance, the pain of which 1 can remove ? if there is, I will be fatisfied with fuch a partial communication as may enable me to be of ufe to you, without enquirin_f into particulars you may wifh to conceal. I fend you, with other books, one that now engroiles ail the converfation of this country, which, from its boldnels and fingularity alone, and, written as it is, by an obfcure individual*, calling himfelf the fubjecl of another govern- ment, could never have attradled fo much at- tention, or have occafioned to the party whofe principles it decidedly attacks, fuch general alarm, if there had not been much found fenfe ia it, however bluntly delivered —As I had ra- * P«iae, ther 228 n E S M O K B. ther hear your opinion of it, than give you my own, 1 will leave the difcufiion of politics, to tell you of what pafTes among your acquaint- ance — This neighbourhood is almoft vvhollv occupied by the improvements which Sir Robert Stamford is makiog at Linwell, the place fo regretted by Mrs. Verney — The beautiful little wood which overfliidovved the clear and rapid rivulet, as it haftens through thefe grounds to join the Medway, has been cut down, or at leaft a part of it only has been fuffered to remain, as what he calls a collateral fecurity againft the iiorth-eaft wind, to an immenfe range ef forc- ing and fucceilion houfes, where not only pines are produced, but where different build- ings, and different degrees of heat, are adapted to the ripening cherries in March, and peaches •in April, wil;h almoft every other fruit out af its natural courfe — Ihe hamadryades, to whom I remember, on your firft acquaintance with the Verney family, you addrefs lome charming lines of poetry, becaufe it was under their pro- tection you firil beheld Geraldine j the hama- dryades are driven from the place which is nov^r occupied by culinary deities — The water now ferves only to fupply the gardeneis, or to ftag- nate in ltev^5 for the fattening of carp and tench ; heaps of manure pollute the turf, and rows of reed fences divide and disfigure thcfe beautiful grounds, th tt were once lavvns and •coppices — Every thing is iacrificed to ihe lux- uries of the table; and the country neighbours, •though niany of them polilii'ed ihe ulual ele- gancies ani fupe;fluities of modern life btfcre, aie compelled to hide their diminiflicd head-s, when Sir Rob.Mt Stanford gives an eiiteriain- ment — Riches, however, unworthily acquiie ', a;ed fure pai]^>ort to the '* mouth h^unjr," not only D E ^ M O N D. 229 only of the conrKnon herd of thofe who are call- ed *' gentlemen and ladies," but to the titled and the high born, who, while they court new- rifen opulence, envy, and yet defpife the up- ftart who has obtained it — 1 never meet this great man myTelf, as our former conne£tions, and our pr^fent edrangement, are fo generally known, that we are never invited together, but he is almoft always the fubjedt of difcourfe, at parties where I do go^ and always fpoken of with wonder ; for hardly a week paiTes in which fome new improvement in luxury does not ex- cite admiration at his boundlefs expence, which, from fuch a man, is /uppofed to be fup- ported by a great fortune, for, as he has raifed himfelf, itfeems ui>likely that he fhouldfo little underftand the value of money, as to iquander it thus profufely, if he had r^ot a great deal of rt. To thofe, who are more in the fecret, all this ought not perhaps to be wonderful ; yer, though I know the very extent of Stafmord's abilities, and know that he has nothing like eminent ta- lents, though perhaps an acute and active mind 4 ] have, I own,- now and then been tempted to wonder av his extraordinary and rapid ri, with fo capabi'-. a head, has a heart fo admirably tender — You will be alarmed, perhaps, Defmond, at th« warmth of my panegyric, and fancy, that in endeavouring to cure you, 1 have myfelf caught the iut.:ction— But be at peace, my friend, on that fcore — though Geraldine, in the two lafi: converfations 1 had with her, has made me a fincere convert to an alilrtion of your's, which 1 ufcd to deny, that he, who has once feen ai\d loved her, could never divert himielf of his atuchment, yet. I am no longer * Pope. liabk DESMOND. 231 liable to feel this fatal infatuation in the excefs you do, and am only fenfible of fuch regard for her, as a father or brother might feel — I own, that even thj depreflion of fpirit which her un- happy marriage occahons, is not without its charms — but when 1 fee her llruggling to pal- liate what he will not allow her to conceal, the wild abfurdities and ruinous follies of her huf- band — when I fee her mild endurance of inju- ries, and that her patience and fweetnefs are vainly endeavouring To fpread " A guardian glory rouad her ideoi's head *." 1 feel refpeit bordering on adoration, and fet her above Oclavia, or any of the fair examples in ancient ftory — Yes ! my dear Defmond, I not only acquit you of folly, but have more than once caught myfelf build mg for your delightful chateaux en Ejpagne^ which, however, i will not feed your iick fancy by Iketching, for Ver- ney's lite, nbtwithftanding his irregularities, is a very good one, and it were therefore much wifer in me to direct yuur thoughts to the for- mer and more rational advice I gave you, when -I exprelled my hopes, that you might in time carry your affedlions to the very lovely and ani- mated Fanny VVaverly, who, if I am any judge of the female heart, from the countenance, and the manner, would not let you defpair, and who, as (he is very far from fufpetiting your partiality to her filter, perhaps, puts down to her own account the extraordinary exertions of friendfhip which you have made for her family, in becoming the travelling friend of her brother. I do not hear that Waverly has yet made his appearance in tngland, though i have enquired «1 feveral of my acquaintance, who are lately * Hay ley. come 221 DESMOND. come from Bath, and who tell me that his mo- ther, Mrs. Waverly, is diftreffed by his long delay, and the uncertciinty of what is become of him J that (he is compelled to have a party with her all day, who engage her at cards, in order to detach her mind from this infupportable anxiety — Fortunate refource ! — How thefe good folks are to be envied, who can, in tran- quillity folace, in afflidion, confole themfelves with a rubber! *' A blefling on him," quoth Sancho, *•* who fitft invented the thing called fleep, it covers a man over like a cloak" — A bleffing, fay 1, on hitn who hrft invented thofe two and-fifty fquares of panned paper — 1 hey blunt the arrows of afflidiion, ^■^ and reconcile man io his lot*." While the elder lady of the Waverly family is thus diverting the pangs of maternal dif- quietude, and the younger trying to think lefs of a certain fentimental v^anderer, by fluting, to ufe her own phrafe, with all tt\e fmartefl men at Bath, who affiduoufly furround her — Geral- dine remains in perfeft retirement at a lodging near Richmond, with her children, and only two fervants — ftie has no carriage with her, and never goes out butt © walk with her little ones; and having, wifely, declined all vifitors, (he has not, 1 hope, yet learned that all Verney's tewn-carriages and horfes, cxctrpt only a polt- chaife, which fo.'nchody re-pufcbafed for him, are lately fold — Ae is himfelf gone into York- fhire, whither heabfolutely rcfufed to fufter her to go, when country ar was prefcribed for her health, and it is reported, and I feur with truth, that he has eftabliihed an hunt there, of which he bears the great ft {hare of theeKpvnce, though it is faid to be at the joint charge of himfelf. DESMOND. 233 himfclf, Lprd Newminfter, and Sir James Dcybournc. The arrar.'^jement at Moorefly Park, is r:,id (Apd ftill 1 believe with too much foundation) to confift of three of the molt ^ celebrated courtezans, who are at this tiii-.c the moft fafliionable, and of courfe, the mofl: expcnfive — Every one of thefe illuftriouc perfonagcs appropriating one of thefe ladies for the t;mc of thtir refidencc. This has been going on ever fince the month of January, and is to £n*l only v>'ith the hunting feafon — You will wonder, perhaps, how I got at all this iil- telligcncf, but my folichude for Geraldine conquers the diCike I have to enter into that fort of (t;nvcrfaiion whith is called goflippingj and I happen to have an nc'cjujiintance at W— , a fpinftrr, fomewhat pafl'eci the bloom of life^ and who, very much ag^ainO her inclination^, h?.s hitherto remained uniapped by carelTcs, un-b-vkr-t iii' .yfion by ttuder falutaiions *, hut, though without fortune, ihe is of a goo4 fr'.rni'y, ar.i.] being illii-d to f^.>roe gre and pipers, by what mean? can it .liniiltr keep a fitap-Iliop, to fup- * i-*23aronl, a v.-orii rlef^riptiie of people reduced to the •!Jtm-)!.t f.oveil" ai'd wicltiiccitK is. ply DESMOND. 24.5 ply the fans cuktes with thofe nccefiaries gratis F —This convincing argum?iit, which tiie whole company apfilauded with a loud laugh, gave my right honourable adverfary luch confidence in his own powers, that, without perniittmg me to reply, he proceeded. — " I inlift upon it, that there is no caule of complaint in England ; no- body is poor, unlefs itbe by their own fault; anil nobody is opprefTed j as to the common people, the mub, or whatever you pleaje to call them; what were they born lor but to work ? And here comes a fellow and tells them about tiieir rights — They have no rights — they can have none, but to labour for their fuperiors, and if they are idle, 'tis their own faults, and not the fault o( the conftilution, in which there are no imperfe£lions, and which cannot by any con- trivance be made better." '* Your lorufhip," anfwered 1, " whofe com- prehenfive mind prob*bly looks forward to th^ time when you will yourfelf make one of that illuftricus body that Mr. Burke defcribes as the Corinthian pillar of poliflied focieiy, has, 1 dare fay, in travelling through other countries, made the government of your own your peculiar ftudy, and by contrafting it with thoie you have (een^ you have learned to appreciate iis value — That it is fuperior to moll, perhaps, to all of them, 1 am willing to allow, yet i cannot pronounce it to be without imperfections, where i obferve fuch dreadful contrails in the condition of the people under it — Who can walk: through the ftreets of London without being (hocked with them ? — Here., a man,, who polltires an im- menfe income which has been g vtn him tor his fervile attendance, or his venal voice, an in- come, which is paid/rom the b.urthenfome im- pofts 240 !» 'E S .VI O N D. poils laid on the people, is feen driving along in a fplendid equipage ; his very fervants cloath- ed in purple and fine linen, and teftifying, bj their looks, that they * fare fumptuoufly every day' — 1 here, extended on the pavement, lies one of thofe very people whofe labour has pro- bably contributed to the fupport of this luxury, begging vil>efewithal to continue his degraded exiftence, of the difgufted pairenger, who turns from the fpe£lacle of his fqualid wretchednefs — In our daily prints, this fhocking inequality is not lefs ftriking — In one paragraph, we are re- galed with an eulogium on the innumerable bleiiings, the abundant profperity of our coun- try J in the next, we read the melancholy and rrrrt^ryirg Wi} of m!mbcr]i.r« unhappy debtors, who, in vain, folicit, from time to time, the mercy of the legifiature, and who are left by the powers who tan relieve them, to linger out tt-.eir unprofitable lives, and to perifh, through penury and difealie, in the moft loathfome continementsj condemned to feel * The horrors of a gloomy paol. llBpiiiid and unheard, where niilery moans ; Whtie fjcknefs pine^^ where third and hunger burn, And poo! misfortune, feels the lafti of guilt.*' To-day, we fee difplayed in tinfel panegyric, thie fuperb trappings, the gorgeous ornanients, the iewels of immeofe value, with which the illiifli SOU"; perfonagc5 of our land amaze and ue- light ui — T"o- morrow, we read d a poor man, an ancient woman, a (ieferted child, who were found dead in luch or fuch alleys or flrcet, * Juppofcd lo have pcrifhed through want, and * Thomfoin. the D H S M O N D. 2:\.J- the inclemency of the weather ;' and is it pof*-> fible to help exclaiming. -' lake phyfic pomp— Expofe thyiielf to feel what wretches fee I ; S« (halt thou ni;\ke ihe I'uptrflux to ihein. And (hew the heavens more jurt.*" The young peer, who had (hesvn more pa.- tience than I expe(5led, now interrupted me — " All this is very fine, Sir," faid he, '* but give me leave to fay, that it is all common place de- clamation, (that was true enough) and does not go to prove, that the form of our government is defective — mifery exilts every where, and i«w the htavens mor* juft.' It is heaven fo decides then, and by no means the fault of government — It is the lot of hu- manity, and cannot be changed." ** liius it is," anfwered 1, *' that we dare to arraign our God for the crime? and follies of man that. God, who certainly made none of his creatures- to be miferable, nor called any into exiftence only to live painfully, anJ pcriPa vvietchedly ; but when the blind fcinlhnefs of man dif- tf ibutes what Providence has given ; when ava- rice accumulates, and power u Turps, fome have fuperfluities, which contribute nothing to their happinefs, others hardly enough to give them the means of a tolerable exiftence — Were, there, indeed, a fure appeal to the mercies of the rich, the calamities of the poor might be Icfs inio- * Shakeri>cace. Icrable j 248 D li S M O N D. Icrable j but it is too cerfain, that higli aiSucncc •^and pro.'perity have a dirtit tendency to harden the tcinptr. How few do we meet with who can feci lor miCeiics ihey Cejmut imagine, and are Ture they can nevti cxper ence ? How many, who ha\e heans fo indurated by tlicir town fviccefs or fortune, that diey are infenfible to geuerohly, and even tojiiftice? — f-low many nK)re, who wotild, perhaps, be in fc^me degree alive to the fcnf.ttiot.s of ln-'maiiity, if their bvi- fuief;;, or iheir plciifuies billowed them time to thmic, but who are (o occupied by either the «rne or the othtr, and fo litile ii. the habit of attendir.g to difagrceiibie fi;bjc, eveii to the ties of blood — iVIy brother ! — alas ! does he care for any of us, and is it pof- libie to wafle one's affection on apathy and inde- cilion? — My mother ! 1 truft, i venerate and legard her, as my only parent j I think myfelf inaebted to her for the trouble fhe has taken during my infancy and my childhood, and for that portion of regard which flie is able to fpare me (hnce I believe the affedtions are involun- tary^ from her fon j but I have felt too much awe, to be fenfible towards her, of that fympa- thetic and gentle affeears younger than herlclf — She is irt love!— Oh! undefcribably in love — And the Do£lor forefecs, in her extenfive connexions, advantages likely to arife to him in his profef- fton, thjt will, he thinks, more than counter- balance the trifling wants of fortune, beauty, and youth— I dare not paint to you -the ridicu*- lous love fcenes that this tender pair exhibit-— You have feen Mifs Elford in love once before*, and can, perhaps, imagine how {he exprcfles now a ftill more ardent paflion ; and with what airs of antiquated coquetry fhe recalls th? Doc- tor to his allegiance, if, peradventure, (be de- teds his eyes wandering towards any of the younger and handfomer part of the company—* The idea here is, that they are to be married very foon, and I really wifti they may, if it bs only in the hope, that Mifs Elford, rn having a huf- band of her own, will be fa engaged by her own un''xpe6tedgood fortune, a^ to let the reft of the world remain for feme time unmolefted. I cannot help it, my dear filler if, rn deCpite of your gentle admonitions, I do hdte this little, flirivelled, fatirical Sybil — It was from her 1 find, that the hiftory ©f my brother's adventure? with the St. Lloy family got abroad here, with numberlefs additional circumilances that never happened ; and it is of her, thr.: my mother learned what I w.fhed toconceai from her, the parties that Verney lately had ii, Yorkfliir^.— Oh I if you could have heard how (be canted about " her dear, her amiable JMrs. Verney ;*' while fhe could not difguife th? pleaiore Ihe took in defcptbing your hufband's fo;blei.>— -you would have ■26«2 D E S M O K D. liave been convinced of what I always told you ; that under uncommon hypocrify, fhe conceals uncommon malignity — Astomyfelf, I find fhe goes about talking of me in fuch terms as thefe : ** Did you fee dear Mifs Waverly at the ball laft night? — Was (he not charming? — I think fhe never looked fo well ; and really I begin to be a convert to the opinion of thofe, who faid, lail year, when fhe firft came out, that fhe was quite as handfome as her fecond fifter Mrs. Ver- ney, the celebrated beauty — Mrs. Verney, poor, dear creature ! — (I have an amazing regard for her, and have loved her from our childhood.^ though (he is two or three years younger than I am!) Mrs. Verney is a little altered, though ftill fo very young — Poor thing ! — -troubles, like her's, are great enemies to beauty, which is but as the flower of the morning ; but however fhe may be changed in appearance, fhe is flill moll amiable — indeed, more fo, as to gentlenefs of temper, than Mifs Waverly, though Jhe is a fweet girl, and has no fault, except, perhaps, a Jittle, a very little too much vivacity, which, it is the great object of my worthy friend, hei mother, to check ; judging, indeed, very truly, that a young perfon, fo much followed and ad- mired, cannot be too referved and cautious." — Yes ! and, in confequence of this imperti- nent opinion, this odious tabby (who fays fhe is only a year or two younger than you, though fhe will never fee forty again) has made my mother fo full of fears and precautions, tha'. i am neither to read any books but thofe that are ordered by the Divan, of which fhe is deputy chair-woman, or to fpeal^ to any men but old fograms, fuch as Major Diuby ; or men of hrge fortune — My mother need not be fo apprehen- five; DESMOND. id^J five; firft, becaufe I have not the leaft inclina- tion to fet out for Scotland with any of the in- fignificant butterflies, whom I like well enough to have flutter about me in public j and fecond- ly, becaufe, if I had fuch a fancy, there is not on« of them who has the leaft notion of marry- ing a young woman without a fortune, or with a very fmall one — Even the fortunate beings who are not profcribed, men who can make a fettlement, have, for the moft part, but Jittle inclination to encumber themfelves with z |)ortionlefs wife ; and among them all, 1 know none who anfwer my ideas of what a man ought to be — Alas ! there is but one in the world whom I fhould felecSl as the hero of my Romance, if I were in hafte to make one. But you muft give me leave to deteft Mifs El- ford a little j though, indeed, I have not in my heart room for many other fentiments than thofc of anxiety and tendernefs for you, my dear Ge- raldine. Write foon, and explicitly, of your intentions, to Your affe6lionate and faithful. JANNV WAVERLY LET- 2^ B E S M O N ». LETTER XXVIII. SeynsootStreet, 27th April, 1791. YES! my fifter, I knew of the way in which Mr. Verney lived when he was laft in Yorklhire, though I never mentioned it, and had fome hope it might have efcaped my mo- ther's knowledge and your's— Alas ! Fanny ! I cannot be ignorant, however I defire to apprar fo, of the extreme bitternefs of the lot to which I .am condemned ; but while you love rr,e— while my charming children are weW — whiJemy mother thinks of me with fome intereft — and let me a=dd, while 1 have a few friends, whofe regard is fo well worth poflefiing, I will not fmk under it; but will fupport myfelf by there- flexion, that I do tr.y duty, and, at leaft, de- fcrve a better fate — I now haften to the other parts of your letter — You will fee, by the date of this, that 1 am returmd to London— and you well knovv" how much againft my inclination — However, it was thought better than going into Yorkfhirc ; and fortunately for me, the Due de Komaguecourt, who is become Mr. Verney's moft mtimate friend, difcovered, thac he had no inclination to go at this feafon into fo remote apart of England — However, Mr. Verney de- termines I DESMOND. 265 tcrmines to entertain him here in a ftyie which may do honor to his hofpitality ; and as frequent dinners are to be given, and the Duke profeflcs himfelf diffatisfied, even with the moft luxu- rious table, where ladies do not prefide, I have been compelled to quit my quiet lodging, and am to remain here till indeed, I know not . till when, for Mr. Verney is as unfettled* in- his plans, even as my poor brother himfelf, and without the docility which Waverly has, who will generally allow fome other perfon to decide for him, and then believes, for a few hoursy that he has followed his own inclination. All you fay about Col. Scarfdale is very true — It is impoflible not to fee, however I have endeavoured to mifunderftand him ; that his pretended friend/hip for Verney, does not pre- vent his forming defigns, which you may affure yourfelf, excite only my contempt, and add abhorrence of his principles to perfonal aver- fion — I now fee a great deal more of him than I do of Mr. Verney ; for though we have ap- parently inhabited the fame houfe thefe three days, we have met only once, even at table, and th?t was yeflerday, when a magnificent dinner was given to his friends — Col. Scarfdale, however, is very obligingly willing not to eon- iign me to folitude ; but, nnce he is always ad- mitted by Mr. Verney's dire6l:ion, and knows I am never out, he takes the opportunity of faun- tering up to my dreffing^room, where he plays with the children, picks up my thread-paper, infifts upon bringing me new mufic, and on reading to me fome novel or poem, with which he is generally furnifhed— If coldnefs, and ap- parent difguft, could have put an end to attend- ance fo improper, and fo uneafy to me, it cer- VoL. I. N tainly 266 D £ S M O N D» tainly would not have continued beyond the fecond morning, but to-day is the third, on which, in dfepitc of myfelf, I (hall probably be condemned to endure it — He afFe<5ls extreme uneafinefs at the ftate of Verney's affairs, (though, till lately, he has endeavoured to laugh ofF my folicitude about them, whenever I ventured to exprefs it) and has given feveral intimations, that his friend has formed an at- tachment to fome expenfive woman — hints, that I determine never to underfland — But, when I thus evade the fubjedtl wifli not to hear of, he fighs, walks about the room, and, as if unable to exprefs his emotions, cries, " I love Verney from my foul ; but, in this inftance, I cannot excufe him, though I pity him, for be- ing fo infenfible of his own happinefs ! — I be- lieve he is the only man in England who has fo little tafte." . This, they fay, is fuch a common y{»<;^, and has been ufed fo often, that I rather wonder the Colonel, who piques himfelf on his peculiar talents in gallantry, has not recourfe to fomc lefs hackneyed expedient — I muft put an end to fuch fort of converfation, however, though I do not know how to do it j as my fpeaking to Verney, (if he did not laugh at it, as he pro- bably would) might be attended with unpleafant confequences. To-morrow the whole party dine here again j and 1 have promifed Mr. Ver- ney to go to Ranelagh with them, and Mifs Ayton, who is fo good as to come to me when- ever thefe engagements are made, that I may not be the only woman — Oh ! my Fanny, would you were with me — Nothing could fo foothc my fufFerings, as having you, to whom I might weep at night, when 1 have been compelled to conceal B £ S M O N D. 267 conceal all day under afFe£led tranquillity, the anguifli of a breaking heart — I {hall own to you, my dear filler, that notwithftanding the refolu- tions 1 made at the beginning of my letter, to be patient and tranquil, there are moments, when 1 moft fmccrely vvifli that 1 and my babies were ali dead together — What will become of us ? If, as J greatly fear, there will foon be nothing left but my fettlement, between their father and utter ruin— If it ever does come to that, of which, from the hints dropped by Scarfdale, I expert every day to hear, I fhall, if I have any fuch power, give it up to him, for I cannot bear his diftrefs, while I have the means of re- lieving it — However, perhaps, it may not be fo bad as Scarfdale, with fome very unworthy view of his own, feems inclined toreprcfent it — But, from him, I have heard of fuch lofles at play, upon the turf, and in bets of other fort?, that if only half of what he fays be true, it is impoflible this poor infatuated man can go on long — I need not fay how greatly his expences are en- creafed by the prefent fet of acquaintance he has got into — I have fpolcen of it to him at the only moment 1 had an opportunity, and his an- fwer was — " Pooh ! don't give yourfelf any concern about that — I know what 1 am about, and fhall take care to be no lofcr, but very much oiherwife." — This, I fuppofe, meant, that he doubted not his fuccefs at play againft the French noblemen, two of whom are men of very large fortune — But how degrading is fuch a fcheme ! — how unworthy of a man profefling any honor or piinciple ! — Enough, my Fanny, peih.ips too much on this cruel topic — I will try to talk of other things. N 2 I cannot a68 B E S M O N D. I cannot help fmiling at your account of my old acquaintane Mjfs Elford, whom I have heartily forgiven, not only for the {lories (he once fent forth about Mr. Mulgrave, which I never knew fne had done till lately j but for the little air of triumph (he aflumes in relating, that *' poor, dear Mrs. Verneyis already altered in her appearance, though fo young!" — Ah! it is very true, indeed, my love — I not only for- give her, but am really very glad fhe is at length likely to enter happily into that ftate which has always been the great obje(5^ of her laudable am- bition — She will now, 1 truft, bear lefs enmity towards her young married friends, (how fel- . dom, alas! the objedts of well-founded envy) or towards thofe whofe youth and charms feem- ed to give them a chance which fhe herfelf def- paired of — I wifti, however, ftie would not be- iet my mother with ftories of Mr. Verney^ which ferve only to make her uneafy, without producing any benefit to us. You fay, that my mother certainly did not pay off thofe two debts that fo fad ly diftrefled us five months ago — AVho then could it be ? — Since I have been convinced it was none of my own family, I have been, I own, very folici- teus to di/cover to whom fuch an obligation is owing ; and in the indifcretion of my curiofity, I have applied to Colonel Scarfdale, who, with- out dire6lly afierting it, has given fuch anfwers, as would (if I did not believe him incapable of fuch an action, even from interefud motives) have led me to imagine it might be himfelf— — Surely this cannot be? — I wifn it were poflible to know. You afk me, my Fanny, after Mr. Def- mond — Alas ! I know nothing fatisfadory of him i DESMOND. 269 him ; and have fometimes been fo anxious to hear of him, as to think of writing to Mr. Bethel — Yet a fear of its having a fingular and improper appearance, has always deterred me. What is your fecret, my clear fifter, which ycu will not communicate, left it fliould add to my troubles ? — Does it, as I guefs, relate to Def- mond ? — Oh ! how happy, how enviable, would the lot of that woman be, who, infpiring fuch a man with efteem and afFeftion, fhould be at liberty to return it — Need 1 fay, that it is the wifliof my heart, my Fanny, might be that for- tunate creature ; yet, let me not aflift in cherifli- ing an hope that may ferve only to embitter her lite — I have heard it hinted, (but it is long fince, and, perhap«, came from no very good authority) that he is already attached, with the moft ardent afFeftion, to that Madame de Boif- belle, who fo afliduoufly attended him in his illnefs ; and that his continuing fo long abroad, is owing to his unwillingnefs to leave her — I have colleiSted this intelligence partly from Colonel Scarfdale, who has fome correfpondence abroad, and partly from my fcrvant Manwar- ing, whofe hufband is an old friend of War- ham's, Mr. Defmond's fervant, and now and then has a letter from him — Upon putting all the circumftances together, I am compelled to give that credit to their united evidence, which 1 fliould not have given to the Colonel alone, who feemed to triumph mightily in being able to relate, that my excellent and virtuous fncnd, as he fneeringly calls Oefmond, is entangled in an adventure with a married woman — Perhaps, however, this is all the invention of malice, or the painting of ignorance — Malice, that will not allow it ■prcbabU mere friendship fliould exift N 3 between 270 DESMOND. between two perfons of difFerent fexes ; and grofs ignorance, that connot imagine it poffiblc — May heaven blefs Defmond, whatever are his prolpedls and connexions ! and may he be as happy as he deferves to be ! — I feel, too fenfibly, the weight of our obligation to him whenever his name is mentioned, whenever 1 think of him — Perhaps, I fee! it the more, becaufe (you only excepted) none of my family feem to feel it at all — My brother, I fear, never writes to him ; and has probably committed follies as great, though not fo irretrievable, as thofe from which Defmond delivered him. Mr. Verney is continually making Defmond's quix- otifm the fubjeit of his ridicule; (a talent which he manages generally (o as to attract ridi- cule himfelf) and my mother J?ems rather forry that Defmond is wifer than her fon, than obli- ged to him for having exerted that wlfdom in his behalf. How long, my dear Fanny, has your reading been under profcription ? — We ufed to read what we would, when we were girls together, and I never found it was preju- dicial to either of us ; but my mother feems to have been liftening (notwithftanding her diflike of women's knowledge) to fome of thofe good ladies, who, by dint of a tolerable memory, and being accuftomed to aflbciate with men of let- terii, have colledted fome phrafes and remarks, which they retail in lefs enlightened focicties, and immediately obtain credit for an uncommon {hare of penetration and fcience — But if every work of fancy is to be prohibited in which a tale is told, or an example brought forward, by which fome of thefe ladies fuppofe, that the er* rors of youth may be palliated, or the imagina- tion awakened — 1 know no book of amufement that rr E s M o M D. 271 that can efcape their cenfure; and the whole phalanx of novels, from the two firft of our claffics, in that linp of writing, Richardfon and Fielding, to the lefs exceptionable, though certainly lefs attractive inventors of the prefent day, muft be condemned with lefs mercy, than the curate and the barber fnewed to the collec- tion of the Knight of the forrowful Counte- nance ; and ten, I really know not what young people (I mean young women) will read at all — But let me afk thefe fevere female cenfors, whether, in every well-written novel, vice^ and. even weaknejps, that deferve not quite fo harfli aname, ^re not exhibited, as fubjedtingthofe who are examples of them, to remorfe, regret, and punifliment — And fmce circumftances, more inimical to innocence, are every day related, without any difguife, or with very little, in the public prints ; fince, in reading the world, a girl muft fee a thoufand very uglv blots, which frequently pafs without any cenfure at all — I own, I cannot imagine, that novel reading, can, as has been alledged,. corrupt fhe imagin- ation, or enervate the heart ; at leaft, fuch a defcription of novels, as thofe which reprefent human life nearly as it is ; for, as to others, thofe wild and abfurd writings, that defcribe in inflated language, beings, that never were, nor ever will be, they can (if any young woman has fo little patience and tafte as to read them) no more contribute to form the charadler of her mind, than the grotefque figures of fhep- herdeffes, on French fans and B^rgamot boxes, can form her tafte in dref-^ — Who could, for a moment, feel any imprefllon from the peru- fal of fuch ftuff as this, though every diurnal print puffed its excellence, and every />^/// maitrt 3 fwore 272 DESMOND. fwore it was quite the thing — exquifite — -pathe- tic — ^^interefting. " The beautiful, the foft, the tender Iphi- gcnia, cloied not, xluring the tedious hours, her beauteous eyes while the glorious flambeau offilver-flippered day funk beneath the cncrim- foned couch of coral-crowned Thetis, giving up the dormant world to the raven-embrace of all over-clouding night- — When, however, the matin loving lark, or rufTet pinions, floating amid the tiffany clouds, that variegated, in fleecy undulation, the grcy-invefted heavens, hailed with his foul reviving note, the radiant coun- tenance oi returning morn; the fweet, the mild, the elegantly unhappy maid, turned to- wards the rofeate-ltreaming Eaft, thofe fapphire mefl'engers, that exprefTed, in language of fuch exquifite fenfibility, every emotion of her deli- cate foul ; and, with a palpi tatina: flgh, arofe — She clad her graceful form in a clofe jac- ket of Nakara fatin, trimmed with filvcr, and the bloiroms of the fweet- fcented pea, intermix- ed ; her petticoat was of white fattin, with a border of the fame; and on her head, half hid- ing, and half difcovering her hyacinthine locks, fhe carclefsly bound a glowing wreath of Afri- can marygold?, and purple v^^hina-after, fur- mounting the whole with a light kerchief of piivk Italian gauze, embroidered by herfelf in lilies of the valley — She then appoached the window, and in a voice, whofe dulcet gurglings emulated :he cooings of the enamoured pigeon of the woods, fliefighed forth the following ex- quifitively expreilive ode." Now do you think, my dear Fanny, that ei- ther good or harm can be derived from fuch a book as this r — Lofs of time may be, with juf- tice, DESMOND. 273 tice, objci^eJ to it, but no other evil — A fen- fible girl would certainly throw it away iii Jii- guft ; a weak one (who would probably not un- derftand half of it, could it be underftood at all) cries, " Dear ! — how fweet ! — charming crea- ture ! — A light kerchief of pink italim gauze, embroidered with lilies of the valley ! — Her voice, the dulcit gurglings of the enamoured pigeon of the woods !" — And then, meaning only to enquire, whether this amiable Iphlge- nia was happy or no ? — She fits down to have her hair curkd— reads as faft, as the rofeate rays, and azure adventures, will let her, to the end, and forgetting them all — dreflVs herfelf and goes to Ranelagh, or the opera, where (he tells fome little cream-coloured beau what a dear, divine novel fhe has been reading ; but of which, in fadt, fhe has forgotten every word. 1 own it has often ftruck me as a fmgular in- confiftency, that, while novels have been con- demned as being injurious to the intereft of vir- tue, the play-houfe has been called the fchool of morality — -The comedies of the lait century are alanoil, w thout exception, fo grofs, that, with all the alterations they have received, they are very unfit for that part of the audience to whom novel reading is deemed pernicious, nor is the example to be derived from them very conducive to the intererts of morality ; for, not only the rake and the coquette of the piece are generally made happy, but thofe duties of life, to which novel-reading is believed to be prejudi- cial, are almoft always violated with impunity, or rendered ridiculous by *•• the trick of the fcene" — Age which ought to be refpeded, is invariably exhibited, as hateful and contemp- tible — To cheat an old father, or laugh at a fat 274 DESMOND. fat aunt, are the fupreme merits of the heroes and [i.roines ; and though nothing is more out of nature than the old man of the ft age — 1 can- not be of opinion, that the fcene is a fchool of morality for youth, which teaches them, that age and infirmity, are fubjesfts of laughter and ridicule — Such, however, is the tafte of the t.nglifn in their thentrical amufcment? — And n^nv, when the very ofFenfive jeft is no longer admitted, ponraits of foliy, exaggerated till they lofc all refemblance, harlequin tricks, and pantomimical efcapes, are fubftitued to keep the audience awak?, and are accepted in place of genuine wit, of which it muft be owned, there is " a plentiful lack" (with fome ftrong excep- tions, however) m our modern comedy — All this is very well, if we take it as mere amufc- ment; but, what 1 quarrel with, is the canting fallacy of calling the fbage the fchool of morali- ty — Roufleau fays, very juftly, " II n'y a que la raifon qui ne foit bonne a rien fur la fcene*" — A reafonable man would be a character in- fupportably flat and infipid even on the French ftage, and on the Englifh, would not be endur- ed to the end of the firft fcene — Even thofe charming pieces, which are called drames, fuch as le Pere de famille, I'lndigent, le Philofophe fans le fcavoir, would, howevr^r well they might be tranflated, adapted to our manners, and re- prefented, lull an Englifh audience to fleep, though they- exhibit donieftic fcenes, by which morality and virtue are moft forcibly inculcated ; and fuch, as by coming " home to the bufinefs and bofoms" of the younger part of the audience, * It is reafon only that is worih noihing on the ftage. might DESMOND. 275 might be, indeed, leflbns in that fchool, which our theatre certainly does not form; though the careful mothers, wh odread the evil influtnce cf novels, carry their daughthers to its moft ex- ceptionable reprefentations. In regard to novels, I cannot help remarking another ilrange inconfiftency, which is, that the great name of Richardfon, (and great it certainly deferves to be) makes, by a kind of hereditary prefcriptive deference, thofe fcenes, thofe de- i'criptions pafs uncen fared in Pamela and Cla- rifla, which are infinitely more improper for the perufal of young wometi, than any that can be found in the novels of the prefent day j of which, indeed, it may be faid, that, if they do no good, they do no harm ; and (hat there is a chance, that thofe who will read nothing, if the do not read novels, may colIe(£t from them fome few ideas, that are not either fallacious, or abfurd, to add to the very fcanty ftock which their ufual infipidity of life has afforded them ■ — As to niyielf, 1 read, you know, all forts of books, and have done fo ever fmce I was out of the nurfery, for my mother had then no notion of reftraining me — Novels, ofcourfe, and thofe very indifferent novels, were the firft that I could obtain ; and I ran through them with extreme avidity, often forgetting to pradlife my leflbn on the harpfichord, or to learn my French tafk, while I got up into my own room, and devoured with an eager appetite, the mawkiih pages that told of a damfel, moil exquifitely beautiful, confined by a cruel father, and e(- caping to an heroic lover, while a wicked Lord laid in wait to tear her from him, and carried her to fome remote caftle — Thofe delighted me moft that ended miferably ; and having tortured mc 276 DESMOND. me through the lad volume with impoflible di- ftrefs, ended in the funeral of the heroine- Had the imagination of a young perfon been li- able to be much afFedled by thefe fort of hifto- ries, mine would, probably, have taken a ro- mantic turn, and at eighteen, when I was mari- cd, I Ihould havehefitated whether I fliould obey my friends dirediions, or have waited till the hero appeared, who would have been imprinted on my mind, from fome of the charming fabu- lous creatures, of whom I had read in novels — But, far from doing fo, I was, you fee, " obedient — very obedient ;" and, fn the four years that have fmce paft, I have thought only of being a quiet wife, and a good nurfe, and of fulfilling, as well as I can, the part which has been chofen for me — I know not how I have Aid into all this egotifm, from a defence of novel-reading — It has, however, ferved to de- tach my thoughts from fubje