The History of Emily Montague Part 69

Certainly, my dear, friends.h.i.+p is a mighty pretty invention, and, next to love, gives of all things the greatest spirit to society.

And yet the prudery of the age will hardly allow us poor women even this pleasure, innocent as it is.

I remember my aunt Cecily, who died at sixty-six, without ever having felt the least spark of affection for any human being, used to tell me, a prudent modest woman never loved any thing but herself.

For my part, I think all the kind propensities of the heart ought rather to be cherished than checked; that one is allowed to esteem merit even in the naughty creature, man.

I love you very sincerely, Emily: but I like friends.h.i.+ps for the men best; and think prudery, by forbidding them, robs us of some of the most lively as well as innocent pleasures of the heart.

That desire of pleasing; which one feels much the most strongly for a _male_ friend, is in itself a very agreable emotion.

You will say, I am a coquet even in friends.h.i.+p; and I am not quite sure you are not in the right.

I am extremely in love with my husband; yet chuse other men should regard me with complacency, am as fond of attracting the attention of the dear creatures as ever, and, though I do justice to your wit, understanding, sentiment, and all that, prefer Rivers's conversation infinitely to yours.

Women cannot say civil things to each other; and if they could, they would be something insipid; whereas a male friend--

'Tis absolutely another thing, my dear; and the first system of ethics I write, I will have a hundred pages on the subject.

Observe, my dear, I have not the least objection to your having a friends.h.i.+p for Fitzgerald. I am the best-natured creature in the world, and the fondest of increasing the circle of my husband's innocent amus.e.m.e.nts.

_A propos_ to innocent amus.e.m.e.nts, I think your fair sister-in-law an exquisite politician; calling the pleasures to Temple at home, is the best method in the world to prevent his going abroad in pursuit of them.

I am mortified I cannot be at your masquerade; it is my pa.s.sion, and I have the prettiest dress in the world by me. I am half inclined to elope for a day or two.

Adieu! Your faithful A. Fitzgerald.

LETTER 215.

To Captain Fitzgerald.

Bellfield, Nov. 12.

Please to inform the little Bell, I won't allow her to spoil my Emily.

I enter a caveat against male friends.h.i.+ps, which are only fit for ladies of the _salamandrine_ order.

I desire to engross all Emily's _kind propensities_ to myself; and should grudge the least share in her heart, or, if you please in her _friends.h.i.+p_, to an archangel.

However, not to be too severe, since prudery expects women to have no propensities at all, I allow single ladies, of all ranks, sizes, ages, and complexions, to spread the veil of friends.h.i.+p between their hearts and the world.

'Tis the finest day I ever saw, though the middle of November; a dry soft west wind, the air as mild as in April, and an almost Canadian suns.h.i.+ne.

I have been bathing in the clear stream, at the end of my garden; the same stream in which I laved my careless bosom at thirteen; an idea which gave me inconceivable delight; and the more, as my bosom is as gay and tranquil at this moment as in those dear hours of chearfulness and innocence.

Of all local prejudices, that is the strongest as well as most pleasing, which attaches us to the place of our birth.

Sweet home! only seat of true and genuine happiness.

I am extremely in the humor to write a poem to the houshold G.o.ds.

We neglect these amiable deities, but they are revenged; true pleasure is only to be found under their auspices.

I know not how it is, my dear Fitzgerald; but I don't find my pa.s.sion for the country abate.

I still find the scenes around me lovely; though, from the change of season, less smiling than when I first fixed at Bellfield; we have rural business enough to amuse, not embarra.s.s us; we have a small but excellent library of books, given us by my mother; she and Emily are two of the most pleasing companions on earth; the neighbourhood is full of agreable people, and, what should always be attended to in fixing in the country, of fortunes not superior to our own.

The evenings grow long, but they are only the more jovial; I love the pleasures of the table, not for their own sakes, for no man is more indifferent on this subject; but because they promote social, convivial joy, and bring people together in good humor with themselves and each other.

My Emily's suppers are enchanting; but our little income obliges us to have few: if I was rich, this would be my princ.i.p.al extravagance.

To fill up my measure of content, Emily is pleased with my retirement, and finds all her happiness in my affection.

We are so little alone, that I find our moments of unreserved conversation too short; whenever I leave her, I recollect a thousand things I had to say, a thousand new ideas to communicate, and am impatient for the hour of seeing again, without restraint, the most amiable and pleasing of woman-kind.

My happiness would be complete, if I did not sometimes see a cloud of anxiety on that dear countenance, which, however, is dissipated the moment my eyes meet hers.

I am going to Temple's, and the chaise is at the door.

Adieu! my dear friend!

Your affectionate Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 216.

To Colonel Rivers.

Nov. 14.

So you disapprove male friends.h.i.+ps, my sweet Colonel! I thought you had better ideas of things in general.

Fitzgerald and I have been disputing on French and English manners, in regard to gallantry.

The great question is, Whether a man is more hurt by the imprudent conduct of his daughter or his wife?

Much may be said on both sides.

There is some hazard in suffering coquetry in either; both contribute to give charms to conversation, and introduce ease and politeness into society; but both are dangerous to manners.

Our customs, however, are most likely to produce good effects, as they give opportunity for love marriages, the only ones which can make worthy minds happy.

The coquetry of single women has a point of view consistent with honor; that of married women has generally no point of view at all; it is, however of use _pour pa.s.ser le tems_.