The History of Emily Montague Part 1
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The History of Emily Montague.
by Frances Brooke.
TO HIS EXCELLENCY GUY CARLETON, Esq. GOVERNOR AND COMMANDER IN CHIEF OF His Majesty's Province of QUEBEC, &c. &c. &c.
SIR,
As the scene of so great a part of the following work is laid in Canada, I flatter myself there is a peculiar propriety in addressing it to your excellency, to whose probity and enlightened attention the colony owes its happiness, and individuals that tranquillity of mind, without which there can be no exertion of the powers of either the understanding or imagination.
Were I to say all your excellency has done to diffuse, through this province, so happy under your command, a spirit of loyalty and attachment to our excellent Sovereign, of chearful obedience to the laws, and of that union which makes the strength of government, I should hazard your esteem by doing you justice.
I will, therefore, only beg leave to add mine to the general voice of Canada; and to a.s.sure your excellency, that
I am, With the utmost esteem and respect, Your most obedient servant, Frances Brooke.
London, March 22, 1769.
THE HISTORY OF EMILY MONTAGUE.
LETTER 1.
To John Temple, Esq; at Paris.
Cowes, April 10, 1766.
After spending two or three very agreeable days here, with a party of friends, in exploring the beauties of the Island, and dropping a tender tear at Carisbrook Castle on the memory of the unfortunate Charles the First, I am just setting out for America, on a scheme I once hinted to you, of settling the lands to which I have a right as a lieutenant-colonel on half pay. On enquiry and mature deliberation, I prefer Canada to New-York for two reasons, that it is wilder, and that the women are handsomer: the first, perhaps, every body will not approve; the latter, I am sure, _you_ will.
You may perhaps call my project romantic, but my active temper is ill suited to the lazy character of a reduc'd officer: besides that I am too proud to narrow my circle of life, and not quite unfeeling enough to break in on the little estate which is scarce sufficient to support my mother and sister in the manner to which they have been accustom'd.
What you call a sacrifice, is none at all; I love England, but am not obstinately chain'd down to any spot of earth; nature has charms every where for a man willing to be pleased: at my time of life, the very change of place is amusing; love of variety, and the natural restlessness of man, would give me a relish for this voyage, even if I did not expect, what I really do, to become lord of a princ.i.p.ality which will put our large-acred men in England out of countenance. My subjects indeed at present will be only bears and elks, but in time I hope to see the _human face divine_ multiplying around me; and, in thus cultivating what is in the rudest state of nature, I shall taste one of the greatest of all pleasures, that of creation, and see order and beauty gradually rise from chaos.
The vessel is unmoor'd; the winds are fair; a gentle breeze agitates the bosom of the deep; all nature smiles: I go with all the eager hopes of a warm imagination; yet friends.h.i.+p casts a lingering look behind.
Our mutual loss, my dear Temple, will be great. I shall never cease to regret you, nor will you find it easy to replace the friend of your youth. You may find friends of equal merit; you may esteem them equally; but few connexions form'd after five and twenty strike root like that early sympathy, which united us almost from infancy, and has increas'd to the very hour of our separation.
What pleasure is there in the friends.h.i.+ps of the spring of life, before the world, the mean unfeeling selfish world, breaks in on the gay mistakes of the just-expanding heart, which sees nothing but truth, and has nothing but happiness in prospect!
I am not surpriz'd the heathens rais'd altars to friends.h.i.+p: 'twas natural for untaught superst.i.tion to deify the source of every good; they wors.h.i.+p'd friends.h.i.+p, which animates the moral world, on the same principle as they paid adoration to the sun, which gives life to the world of nature.
I am summon'd on board. Adieu!
Ed. Rivers.
LETTER 2.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Quebec, June 27.
I have this moment your letter, my dear; I am happy to hear my mother has been amus'd at Bath, and not at all surpriz'd to find she rivals you in your conquests. By the way, I am not sure she is not handsomer, notwithstanding you tell me you are handsomer than ever: I am astonish'd she will lead a tall daughter about with her thus, to let people into a secret they would never suspect, that she is past five and twenty.
You are a foolish girl, Lucy: do you think I have not more pleasure in continuing to my mother, by coming hither, the little indulgencies of life, than I could have had by enjoying them myself? pray reconcile her to my absence, and a.s.sure her she will make me happier by jovially enjoying the trifle I have a.s.sign'd to her use, than by procuring me the wealth of a Nabob, in which she was to have no share.
But to return; you really, Lucy, ask me such a million of questions, 'tis impossible to know which to answer first; the country, the convents, the b.a.l.l.s, the ladies, the beaux--'tis a history, not a letter, you demand, and it will take me a twelvemonth to satisfy your curiosity.
Where shall I begin? certainly with what must first strike a soldier: I have seen then the spot where the amiable hero expir'd in the arms of victory; have traced him step by step with equal astonishment and admiration: 'tis here alone it is possible to form an adequate idea of an enterprize, the difficulties of which must have destroy'd hope itself had they been foreseen.
The country is a very fine one: you see here not only the _beautiful_ which it has in common with Europe, but the _great sublime_ to an amazing degree; every object here is magnificent: the very people seem almost another species, if we compare them with the French from whom they are descended.
On approaching the coast of America, I felt a kind of religious veneration, on seeing rocks which almost touch'd the clouds, cover'd with tall groves of pines that seemed coeval with the world itself: to which veneration the solemn silence not a little contributed; from Cape Rosieres, up the river St. Lawrence, during a course of more than two hundred miles, there is not the least appearance of a human footstep; no objects meet the eye but mountains, woods, and numerous rivers, which seem to roll their waters in vain.
It is impossible to behold a scene like this without lamenting the madness of mankind, who, more merciless than the fierce inhabitants of the howling wilderness, destroy millions of their own species in the wild contention for a little portion of that earth, the far greater part of which remains yet unpossest, and courts the hand of labour for cultivation.
The river itself is one of the n.o.blest in the world; its breadth is ninety miles at its entrance, gradually, and almost imperceptibly, decreasing; interspers'd with islands which give it a variety infinitely pleasing, and navigable near five hundred miles from the sea.
Nothing can be more striking than the view of Quebec as you approach; it stands on the summit of a boldly-rising hill, at the confluence of two very beautiful rivers, the St. Lawrence and St.
Charles, and, as the convents and other public buildings first meet the eye, appears to great advantage from the port. The island of Orleans, the distant view of the cascade of Montmorenci, and the opposite village of Beauport, scattered with a pleasing irregularity along the banks of the river St. Charles, add greatly to the charms of the prospect.
I have just had time to observe, that the Canadian ladies have the vivacity of the French, with a superior share of beauty: as to b.a.l.l.s and a.s.semblies, we have none at present, it being a kind of interregnum of government: if I chose to give you the political state of the country, I could fill volumes with the _pours_ and the _contres_; but I am not one of those sagacious observers, who, by staying a week in a place, think themselves qualified to give, not only its natural, but its moral and political history: besides which, you and I are rather too young to be very profound politicians. We are in expectation of a successor from whom we hope a new golden age; I shall then have better subjects for a letter to a lady.
Adieu! my dear girl! say every thing for me to my mother. Yours,
Ed. Rivers.
LETTER 3.
To Col. Rivers, at Quebec.
London, April 30.
Indeed! gone to people the wilds of America, Ned, and multiply the _human face divine?_ 'tis a project worthy a tall handsome colonel of twenty seven: let me see; five feet, eleven inches, well made, with fine teeth, speaking eyes, a military air, and the look of a man of fas.h.i.+on: spirit, generosity, a good understanding, some knowledge, an easy address, a compa.s.sionate heart, a strong inclination for the ladies, and in short every quality a gentleman should have: excellent all these for colonization: _prenez garde, mes cheres dames_. You have nothing against you, Ned, but your modesty; a very useless virtue on French ground, or indeed on any ground: I wish you had a little more consciousness of your own merits: remember that _to know one's self_ the oracle of Apollo has p.r.o.nounced to be the perfection of human wisdom. Our fair friend Mrs. H---- says, "Colonel Rivers wants nothing to make him the most agreeable man breathing but a little dash of the c.o.xcomb."
For my part, I hate humility in a man of the world; 'tis worse than even the hypocrisy of the saints: I am not ignorant, and therefore never deny, that I am a very handsome fellow; and I have the pleasure to find all the women of the same opinion.
I am just arriv'd from Paris: the divine Madame De ---- is as lovely and as constant as ever; 'twas cruel to leave her, but who can account for the caprices of the heart? mine was the prey of a young unexperienc'd English charmer, just come out of a convent,
"The bloom of opening flowers--"
Ha, Ned? But I forget; you are for the full-blown rose: 'tis a happiness, as we are friends, that 'tis impossible we can ever be rivals; a woman is grown out of my taste some years before she comes up to yours: absolutely, Ned, you are too nice; for my part, I am not so delicate; youth and beauty are sufficient for me; give me blooming seventeen, and I cede to you the whole empire of sentiment.
The History of Emily Montague Part 1
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The History of Emily Montague Part 1 summary
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