Memoirs of Emma Courtney, Page 2

  At the age at which it was thought necessary to wean me, I was sentfrom my tender nurse for that purpose, and consigned to the care of astranger, with whom I quickly pined myself into a jaundice and biliousfever. My aunt dare not visit me during this short separation, she wasunable to bear my piercing cries of anguish at her departure. If amomentary sensation, at that infantine period, deserve the appellation,I might call this my first affectionate sorrow. I have frequentlythought that the tenderness of this worthy woman generated in my infantdisposition that susceptibility, that lively propensity to attachment,to which I have through life been a martyr. On my return to my friends,I quickly regained my health and spirits; was active, blythsome, ran,bounded, sported, romped; always light, gay, alert, and full of glee.At church, (whither on Sunday I was accustomed to accompany the family)I offended all the pious ladies in our vicinity by my gamesome tricks,and avoided the reprimands of my indulgent guardians by the drollery andgood humour which accompanied them.

  When myself and my little cousins had wearied ourselves with play, theirmother, to keep us quiet in an evening, while her husband wrote letters inan adjoining apartment, was accustomed to relate (for our entertainment)stories from the Arabian Nights, Turkish Tales, and other works oflike marvellous import. She recited them circumstantially, and these Ilistened to with ever new delight: the more they excited vivid emotions,the more wonderful they were, the greater was my transport: they becamemy favourite amusement, and produced, in my young mind, a strong desireof learning to read the books which contained such enchanting stores ofentertainment.

  Thus stimulated, I learned to read quickly, and with facility. My uncletook pleasure in assisting me; and, with parental partiality, thoughthe discovered, in the ardour and promptitude with which I received hisinstructions, the dawn of future talents. At six years old I read aloudbefore company, with great applause, my uncle's favourite authors, Pope'sHomer, and Thomson's Seasons, little comprehending either. Emulation wasroused, and vanity fostered: I learned to recite verses, to modulate mytones of voice, and began to think myself a wonderful scholar.

  Thus, in peace and gaiety, glided the days of my childhood. Caressedby my aunt, flattered by her husband, I grew vain and self-willed; mydesires were impetuous, and brooked no delay; my affections were warm,and my temper irascible; but it was the glow of a moment, instantlysubsiding on conviction, and when conscious of having committedinjustice, I was ever eager to repair it, by a profusion of caresses andacknowledgements. Opposition would always make me vehement, and coercionirritated me to violence; but a kind look, a gentle word, a coolexpostulation--softened, melted, arrested, me, in the full career ofpassion. Never, but once, do I recollect having received a blow; but theboiling rage, the cruel tempest, the deadly vengeance it excited, in mymind, I now remember with shuddering.

  Every day I became more attached to my books; yet, not less fond ofactive play; stories were still my passion, and I sighed for a romancethat would never end. In my sports with my companions, I acted over whatI had read: I was alternately the valiant knight--the gentle damsel--theadventurous mariner--the daring robber--the courteous lover--and theairy coquet. Ever inventive, my young friends took their tone from me.I hated the needle:--my aunt was indulgent, and not an hour passedunamused:--my resources were various, fantastic, and endless. Thus, forthe first twelve years of my life, fleeted my days in joy and innocence.I ran like the hind, frisked like the kid, sang like the lark, was fullof vivacity, health, and animation; and, excepting some momentary burstsof passion and impatience, awoke every day to new enjoyment, and retiredto rest fatigued with pleasure.

  CHAPTER IV

  At this period, by the command of my father, I was sent to boardingschool.--Ah! never shall I forget the contrast I experienced. I was analien and a stranger;--no one loved, caressed, nor cared for me;--myactions were all constrained;--I was obliged to sit poring over needlework, and forbidden to prate;--my body was tortured into forms, my mindcoerced, and talks imposed upon me, grammar and French, mere words, thatconveyed to me no ideas. I loved my guardians with passion--my tasteswere all passions--they tore themselves from my embraces with difficulty.I sat down, after their departure, and wept--bitter tears--sobbedconvulsively--my griefs were unheeded, and my sensibility ridiculed--Ineither gave nor received pleasure. After the rude stare of curiosity,ever wounding to my feelings, was gratified, I was left to sob alone.

  At length, one young lady, with a fair face and a gentle demeanour,came and seated herself beside me. She spoke, in a soft voice, words ofsympathy--my desolate heart fluttered at the sound. I looked at her--herfeatures were mild and sweet; I dried my tears, and determined that sheshould be my friend.--My spirits became calmer, and for a short time Iindulged in this relief; but, on enquiry, I found my fair companion hadalready a selected favourite, and that their amity was the admirationof the school.--Proud, jealous, romantic--I could not submit to be thesecond in her esteem--I shunned her, and returned her caresses withcoldness.

  The only mitigation I now felt to the anguish that had seized myspirits, was in the hours of business. I was soon distinguished forattention and capacity; but my governness being with-held, by an infirmconstitution, from the duties of her office, I was consigned, with mycompanions, to ignorant, splenetic, teachers, who encouraged not myemulation, and who sported with the acuteness of my sensations. In theintervals from school hours I fought and procured books.--These wereoften wantonly taken from me, as a punishment for the most trivialoffence; and, when my indignant spirit broke out into murmurs andremonstrance, I was constrained to learn, by way of penance, chapters inthe Proverbs of Solomon, or verses from the French testament. To revengemyself, I satirized my tyrants in doggrel rhymes: my writing master alsocame in for a share of this little malice; and my productions, wretchedenough, were handed round the school with infinite applause. Sunk insullen melancholy, in the hours of play I crept into corners, anddisdained to be amused;--home appeared to me to be the Eden from whichI was driven, and there my heart and thoughts incessantly recurred.

  My uncle from time to time addressed to me--with little presents--kind,pleasant, affectionate notes--and these I treasured up as sacred relics.A visit of my guardians was a yet more tumultuous pleasure; but italways left me in increased anguish. Some robberies had been committedon the road to town.--After parting with my friends, I have laid awakethe whole night, conjuring up in my imagination all the tragic accidentsI had ever heard or read of, and persuading myself some of them musthave happened to these darling objects of my affection.

  Thus passed the first twelvemonth of my exile from all I loved; duringwhich time it was reported, by my school-fellows, that I had never beenseen to smile. After the vacations, I was carried back to my prison withagonizing reluctance, to which in the second year I became, however,from habit, better reconciled. I learned music, was praised and encouragedby my master, and grew fond of it; I contracted friendships, andregained my vivacity; from a forlorn, unsocial, being, I became, oncemore, lively, active, enterprising,--the soul of all amusement, and theleader of every innocently mischievous frolic. At the close of anotheryear I left school. I kept up a correspondence for some time with a fewof my young friends, and my effusions were improved and polished by mypaternal uncle.

  CHAPTER V

  This period, which I had anticipated with rapture, was soon clouded bythe gradual decay, and premature death, of my revered and excellentguardian. He sustained a painful and tedious sickness with unshakenfortitude;--with more, with chearfulness. I knelt by his bedside on theday of his decease; and, while I bathed his hand with my tears, caughthope from the sweet, the placid, serenity of his countenance, and couldnot believe the terrors of dissolution near.

  'The last sentiment of my heart,' said he, 'is gratitude to the Beingwho has given me so large a portion of good; and I resign my family intohis hands with confidence.'

  He awoke from a short slumber, a few minutes before his death.--'Emma,'said he, in a faint voice, (as I grasped his cold hand between
bothmine) turning upon me a mild, yet dying, eye, 'I have had a pleasantsleep--Be a good girl, and comfort your aunt!'--

  He expired without a groan, or a struggle--'His death was the sereneevening of a beautiful day!' I gazed on his lifeless remains, the daybefore their interment, and the features still wore the same placid,smiling benignity. I was then about fourteen years of age,--this firstemotion of real sorrow rent my heart asunder!

  The sensations of Mrs Melmoth were those of agonizing, suffocatinganguish:--the fair prospect of domestic felicity was veiled for ever!This was the second strong impression which struck my opening mind.Many losses occurred, in consequence of foreign connections, in thesettlement of Mr Melmoth's affairs.--The family found their fortunesscanty, and their expectations limited:--their numerous fair-professingacquaintance gradually deserted them, and they sunk into oeconomicalretirement; but they continued to be respectable, because they knew howto contract their wants, and to preserve their independence.

  My aunt, oppressed with sorrow, could be roused only by settling thenecessary plans for the future provision of her family. Occupied withthese concerns, or absorbed in grief, we were left for some time to runwild. Months revolved ere the tender sorrows of Mrs Melmoth admitted ofany mitigation: they at length yielded only to tender melancholy. Mywonted amusements were no more; a deep gloom was spread over ouronce cheerful residence; my avidity for books daily increased; Isubscribed to a circulating library, and frequently read, or ratherdevoured--little careful in the selection--from ten to fourteen novelsin a week.

  CHAPTER VI

  My father satisfied himself, after the death of my beloved uncle,with making a short and formal visit of condolence to the family, andproposing either my return to school, or to pay an annual stipend (whichMr and Mrs Melmoth had hitherto invariably refused) for defraying theexpences of my continuance and board with the amiable family by which Ihad been so kindly nurtured. I shrunk from the cold and careless airof a man whom I had never been able to teach my heart either to loveor honour; and throwing my arms round the neck of my maternal aunt,murmured a supplication, mingled with convulsive sobs, that she wouldnot desert me. She returned my caresses affectionately, and entreatedmy father to permit me to remain with her; adding, that it was herdetermination to endeavour to rouse and strengthen her mind, for theperformance of those pressing duties--the education of her belovedchildren, among whom she had ever accounted her Emma--which now devolvedwholly upon her.

  My father made no objection to this request; but observed, thatnotwithstanding he had a very favourable opinion of her heart andunderstanding, and considered himself indebted to her, and to herdeceased husband, for their goodness to Emma, he was neverthelessapprehensive that the girl had been weakened and spoiled by theirindulgence;--that his own health was at present considerablyinjured;--that it was probable he might not survive many years;--inwhich case, he frankly confessed, he had enjoyed life too freely to beable to make much provision for his daughter. It would therefore, heconceived, be more judicious to prepare and strengthen my mind toencounter, with fortitude, some hardships and rude shocks, to whichI might be exposed, than to foster a sensibility, which he alreadyperceived, with regret, was but too acute. For which purpose, he desiredI might spend one day in every week at his house in Berkley-square, whenhe should put such books into my hands [he had been informed I had atolerable capacity] as he judged would be useful to me; and, in theintervals of his various occupations and amusements, assist me himselfwith occasional remarks and reflections. Any little accomplishmentswhich Mrs Melmoth might judge necessary for, and suitable to, a youngwoman with a small fortune, and which required the assistance of amaster, he would be obliged to her if she would procure for me, and callupon him to defray the additional expence.

  He then, looking on his watch, and declaring he had already missed anappointment, took his leave, after naming Monday as the day on which heshould constantly expect my attendance in Berkley-square.

  Till he left the room I had not courage to raise my eyes from theground--my feelings were harrowed up--the tone of his voice wasdiscordant to my ears. The only idea that alleviated the horror of myweekly punishment (for so I considered the visits to Berkley-square)was the hope of reading new books, and of being suffered to rangeuncountroled through an extensive and valuable library, for such Ihad been assured was Mr Courtney's. I still retained my passion foradventurous tales, which, even while at school, I was enabled to gratifyby means of one of the day-boarders, who procured for me romances from aneighbouring library, which at every interval of leisure I perused withinconceivable avidity.

  CHAPTER VII

  The following Monday I prepared to attend Mr Courtney. On arriving athis house, and announcing my name, a servant conducted me into hismaster's dressing-room. I appeared before him with trembling steps,downcast eyes, and an averted face.

  'Look up, child!' said my father, in an imperious tone. 'If you areconscious of no crime, why all this ridiculous confusion?'

  I struggled with my feelings: the tone and manner in which I wasaddressed gave me an indignant sensation:--a deeper suffusion than thatof modesty, the glow of wounded pride, burnt in my cheeks:--I turnedquick, gazed in the face of Mr Courtney with a steady eye, and spoke afew words, in a firm voice, importing--that I attended by his desire,and waited his direction.

  He regarded me with somewhat less _hauteur_, and, while he finisheddressing, interrogated me respecting the books I had read, and theimpression they had left on my mind. I replied with simplicity, andwithout evasion. He soon discovered that my imagination had been leftto wander unrestrained in the fairy fields of fiction; but that, ofhistorical facts, and the science of the world, I was entirely ignorant.

  'It is as I apprehended,' said he:--'your fancy requires a _rein_ ratherthan a _spur_. Your studies, for the future, must be of a soberernature, or I shall have you mistake my valet for a prince in disguise,my house for a haunted castle, and my rational care for your futurewelfare for barbarous tyranny.'

  I felt a poignant and suffocating sensation, too complicated to bearanalyzing, and followed Mr Courtney in silence to the library. My heartbounded when, on entering a spacious room, I perceived on either sidea large and elegant assortment of books, regularly arranged in glasscases, and I longed to be left alone, to expatiate freely in thesetreasures of entertainment. But I soon discovered, to my inexpressiblemortification, that the cases were locked, and that in this intellectualfeast I was not to be my own purveyor. My father, after putting intomy hands the lives of Plutarch, left me to my meditations; informingme, that he should probably dine at home with a few friends, at fiveo'clock, when he should expect my attendance at the table.

  I opened my book languidly, after having examined through the glassdoors the titles of those which were with-held from me. I felt a kindof disgust to what I considered as a task imposed, and read a fewpages carelessly, gazing at intervals through the windows into thesquare.--But my attention, as I proceeded, was soon forcibly arrested,my curiosity excited, and my enthusiasm awakened. The hours passedrapidly--I perceived not their flight--and at five o'clock, whensummoned to dinner, I went down into the dining-room, my mind pervadedwith republican ardour, my sentiments elevated by a high-tonedphilosophy, and my bosom glowing with the virtues of patriotism.

  I found with Mr Courtney company of both sexes, to whom he presented meon my entrance. Their easy compliments disconcerted me, and I shrunk,abashed, from the bold and curious eyes of the gentlemen. During therepast I ate little, but listened in silence to every thing that passed.

  The theatres were the first topic of conversation, Venice Preserved hadbeen acted the preceding evening, and from discussing the play, theconversation took a political turn. A gentleman that happened to beseated next me, who spoke fluently, looking around him every moment forapprobation, with apparent self-applause, gave the discourse a tone ofgallantry, declaring--'Pierre to be a noble fellow, and that the lossof a mistress was a sufficient excuse for treason and conspiracy,even though the
country had been deluged in blood and involved inconflagration.'

  'And the mistresses of all his fellow citizens destroyed of course;'--saida gentleman coolly, on the opposite side of the table.

  Oh! that was not a consideration, every thing must give place when putin competition with certain feelings. 'What, young lady,' (suddenlyturning to me) 'do you think a lover would not risque, who was in fearof losing you?'

  Good God! what a question to an admirer of the grecian heroes! Istarted, and absolutely shuddered. I would have replied, but my wordsdied away upon my lips in inarticulate murmurs. My father observed andenjoyed my distress.

  'The worthies of whom you have been reading, Emma, lived in ancienttimes. Aristides the just, would have made but a poor figure among ourmodern men of fashion!'

  'This lady reads, then,'--said our accomplished coxcomb--'Heavens,Mr Courtney! you will spoil all her feminine graces; knowledge andlearning, are unsufferably masculine in a woman--born only for the softsolace of man! The mind of a young lady should be clear and unsullied,like a sheet of white paper, or her own fairer face: lines of thinkingdestroy the dimples of beauty; aping the reason of man, they losethe exquisite, _fascinating_ charm, in which consists their trueempire;--Then strongest, when most weak--