The History of Emily Montague Read online

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  Transcriber's Notes: This text retains many old and inconsistentspellings as found in the Dodsley 1769 edition. Differences from thatedition are as follows: As is usually done in modern editions of EmilyMontague, the letters have been renumbered to run consecutively from 1to 228. This avoids irregularities in numbering in the original. Normalcase has been used for the initial words of each letter. Long s has beenreplaced with a regular short s. The Errata which appeared at the end ofvolume four of the original has been applied to the text. Various othercorrections have been made, and in each case, the original form has beenrecorded in the html markup. Usage of quote marks has been modernized.

  THE HISTORY OF EMILY MONTAGUE. In FOUR VOLUMES.

  By the AUTHOR of Lady JULIA MANDEVILLE.

  --"A kind indulgent sleep O'er works of length allowably may creep." Horace.

  Vol. 1

  LONDON, Printed for J. DODSLEY, in Pall Mall. MDCCLXIX.

  TO HIS EXCELLENCY GUY CARLETON, Esq. GOVERNOR AND COMMANDER INCHIEF 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 inCanada, I flatter myself there is a peculiar propriety in addressing itto your excellency, to whose probity and enlightened attention thecolony owes its happiness, and individuals that tranquillity of mind,without which there can be no exertion of the powers of either theunderstanding or imagination.

  Were I to say all your excellency has done to diffuse, through thisprovince, so happy under your command, a spirit of loyalty andattachment to our excellent Sovereign, of chearful obedience to thelaws, and of that union which makes the strength of government, Ishould hazard your esteem by doing you justice.

  I will, therefore, only beg leave to add mine to the general voiceof Canada; and to assure 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 partyof friends, in exploring the beauties of the Island, and dropping atender tear at Carisbrook Castle on the memory of the unfortunateCharles the First, I am just setting out for America, on a scheme Ionce hinted to you, of settling the lands to which I have a right as alieutenant-colonel on half pay. On enquiry and mature deliberation, Iprefer Canada to New-York for two reasons, that it is wilder, and thatthe women are handsomer: the first, perhaps, every body will notapprove; the latter, I am sure, _you_ will.

  You may perhaps call my project romantic, but my active temper isill suited to the lazy character of a reduc'd officer: besides that Iam too proud to narrow my circle of life, and not quite unfeelingenough to break in on the little estate which is scarce sufficient tosupport my mother and sister in the manner to which they have beenaccustom'd.

  What you call a sacrifice, is none at all; I love England, but amnot obstinately chain'd down to any spot of earth; nature has charmsevery where for a man willing to be pleased: at my time of life, thevery change of place is amusing; love of variety, and the naturalrestlessness of man, would give me a relish for this voyage, even if Idid not expect, what I really do, to become lord of a principalitywhich will put our large-acred men in England out of countenance. Mysubjects indeed at present will be only bears and elks, but in time Ihope to see the _human face divine_ multiplying around me; and, inthus cultivating what is in the rudest state of nature, I shall tasteone of the greatest of all pleasures, that of creation, and see orderand beauty gradually rise from chaos.

  The vessel is unmoor'd; the winds are fair; a gentle breeze agitatesthe bosom of the deep; all nature smiles: I go with all the eager hopesof a warm imagination; yet friendship casts a lingering look behind.

  Our mutual loss, my dear Temple, will be great. I shall never ceaseto regret you, nor will you find it easy to replace the friend of youryouth. You may find friends of equal merit; you may esteem themequally; but few connexions form'd after five and twenty strike rootlike that early sympathy, which united us almost from infancy, and hasincreas'd to the very hour of our separation.

  What pleasure is there in the friendships of the spring of life,before the world, the mean unfeeling selfish world, breaks in on thegay 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 friendship: 'twasnatural for untaught superstition to deify the source of every good;they worship'd friendship, which animates the moral world, on the sameprinciple as they paid adoration to the sun, which gives life to theworld 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 mymother has been amus'd at Bath, and not at all surpriz'd to find sherivals you in your conquests. By the way, I am not sure she is nothandsomer, notwithstanding you tell me you are handsomer than ever: Iam astonish'd she will lead a tall daughter about with her thus, to letpeople into a secret they would never suspect, that she is past fiveand twenty.

  You are a foolish girl, Lucy: do you think I have not more pleasurein continuing to my mother, by coming hither, the little indulgenciesof life, than I could have had by enjoying them myself? pray reconcileher to my absence, and assure her she will make me happier by joviallyenjoying the trifle I have assign'd to her use, than by procuring methe 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, theconvents, the balls, the ladies, the beaux--'tis a history, not aletter, you demand, and it will take me a twelvemonth to satisfy yourcuriosity.

  Where shall I begin? certainly with what must first strike asoldier: I have seen then the spot where the amiable hero expir'd inthe arms of victory; have traced him step by step with equalastonishment and admiration: 'tis here alone it is possible to form anadequate idea of an enterprize, the difficulties of which must havedestroy'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 _greatsublime_ to an amazing degree; every object here is magnificent: thevery people seem almost another species, if we compare them with theFrench from whom they are descended.

  On approaching the coast of America, I felt a kind of religiousveneration, on seeing rocks which almost touch'd the clouds, cover'dwith tall groves of pines that seemed coeval with the world itself: towhich veneration the solemn silence not a little contributed; from CapeRosieres, up the river St. Lawrence, during a course of more than twohundred 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 themadness of mankind, who, more merciless than the fierce inhabitants ofthe howling wilderness, destroy millions of their own species in thewild contention for a little portion of that earth, the far greaterpart of which remains yet unpossest, and courts the hand of labour forcultivation.

  The river itself is one of the noblest in the world; its breadth isninety miles at its entrance, gradually, and almost imperceptibly,decreasing; interspers'd with islands which give it a varietyinfinitely pleasing, and navigable near five hundred miles f
rom thesea.

  Nothing can be more striking than the view of Quebec as youapproach; it stands on the summit of a boldly-rising hill, at theconfluence of two very beautiful rivers, the St. Lawrence and St.Charles, and, as the convents and other public buildings first meet theeye, appears to great advantage from the port. The island of Orleans,the distant view of the cascade of Montmorenci, and the oppositevillage of Beauport, scattered with a pleasing irregularity along thebanks of the river St. Charles, add greatly to the charms of theprospect.

  I have just had time to observe, that the Canadian ladies have thevivacity of the French, with a superior share of beauty: as to ballsand assemblies, we have none at present, it being a kind of interregnumof government: if I chose to give you the political state of thecountry, I could fill volumes with the _pours_ and the _contres_;but I am not one of those sagacious observers, who, by staying a weekin a place, think themselves qualified to give, not only its natural,but its moral and political history: besides which, you and I arerather too young to be very profound politicians. We are inexpectation of a successor from whom we hope a new golden age; I shallthen 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 oftwenty seven: let me see; five feet, eleven inches, well made, withfine teeth, speaking eyes, a military air, and the look of a man offashion: spirit, generosity, a good understanding, some knowledge, aneasy address, a compassionate heart, a strong inclination for theladies, and in short every quality a gentleman should have: excellentall these for colonization: _prenez garde, mes cheres dames_. Youhave nothing against you, Ned, but your modesty; a very useless virtueon French ground, or indeed on any ground: I wish you had a little moreconsciousness of your own merits: remember that _to know one's self_the oracle of Apollo has pronounced to be the perfection of humanwisdom. Our fair friend Mrs. H---- says, "Colonel Rivers wants nothingto make him the most agreeable man breathing but a little dash of thecoxcomb."

  For my part, I hate humility in a man of the world; 'tis worse thaneven the hypocrisy of the saints: I am not ignorant, and thereforenever deny, that I am a very handsome fellow; and I have the pleasureto find all the women of the same opinion.

  I am just arriv'd from Paris: the divine Madame De ---- is as lovelyand as constant as ever; 'twas cruel to leave her, but who can accountfor the caprices of the heart? mine was the prey of a youngunexperienc'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 ahappiness, as we are friends, that 'tis impossible we can ever berivals; a woman is grown out of my taste some years before she comes upto yours: absolutely, Ned, you are too nice; for my part, I am not sodelicate; youth and beauty are sufficient for me; give me bloomingseventeen, and I cede to you the whole empire of sentiment.

  This, I suppose, will find you trying the force of your destructivecharms on the savage dames of America; chasing females wild as thewinds thro' woods as wild as themselves: I see you pursuing the statelyrelict of some renown'd Indian chief, some plump squaw arriv'd at theage of sentiment, some warlike queen dowager of the Ottawas orTuscaroras.

  And pray, _comment trouvez vous les dames sauvages?_ all pureand genuine nature, I suppose; none of the affected coyness of Europe:your attention there will be the more obliging, as the Indian heroes, Iam told, are not very attentive to the charms of the _beau sexe_.

  You are very sentimental on the subject of friendship; no one hasmore exalted notions of this species of affection than myself, yet Ideny that it gives life to the moral world; a gallant man, like you,might have found a more animating principle:

  _O Venus! O Mere de l'Amour!_

  I am most gloriously indolent this morning, and would not writeanother line if the empire of the world (observe I do not mean thefemale world) depended on it.

  Adieu! J. Temple.

  LETTER 4.

  To John Temple, Esq; Pall Mall.

  Quebec, July 1.

  'Tis very true, Jack; I have no relish for _the Misses_; forpuling girls in hanging sleeves, who feel no passion but vanity, and,without any distinguishing taste, are dying for the first man who tellsthem they are handsome. Take your boarding-school girls; but give me_a woman_; one, in short, who has a soul; not a cold inanimate form,insensible to the lively impressions of real love, and unfeeling as thewax baby she has just thrown away.

  You will allow Prior to be no bad judge of female merit; and you mayremember his Egyptian maid, the favorite of the luxurious KingSolomon, is painted in full bloom.

  By the way, Jack, there is generally a certain hoity-toityinelegance of form and manner at seventeen, which in my opinion is notbalanc'd by freshness of complexion, the only advantage girls have toboast of.

  I have another objection to girls, which is, that they willeternally fancy every man they converse with has designs; a coquet anda prude _in the bud_ are equally disagreeable; the former expectsuniversal adoration, the latter is alarm'd even at that generalcivility which is the right of all their sex; of the two however thelast is, I think, much the most troublesome; I wish these veryapprehensive young ladies knew, their _virtue_ is not half sooften in danger as they imagine, and that there are many male creaturesto whom they may safely shew politeness without being drawn into anyconcessions inconsistent with the strictest honor. We are not half suchterrible animals as mammas, nurses, and novels represent us; and, if myopinion is of any weight, I am inclin'd to believe those tremendousmen, who have designs on the whole sex, are, and ever were, charactersas fabulous as the giants of romance.

  Women after twenty begin to know this, and therefore converse withus on the footing of rational creatures, without either fearing orexpecting to find every man a lover.

  To do the ladies justice however, I have seen the same absurdity inmy own sex, and have observed many a very good sort of man turn pale atthe politeness of an agreeable woman.

  I lament this mistake, in both sexes, because it takes greatly fromthe pleasure of mix'd society, the only society for which I have anyrelish.

  Don't, however, fancy that, because I dislike _the Misses_, Ihave a taste for their grandmothers; there is a golden mean, Jack, ofwhich you seem to have no idea.

  You are very ill inform'd as to the manners of the Indian ladies;'tis in the bud alone these wild roses are accessible; liberal toprofusion of their charms before marriage, they are chastity itselfafter: the moment they commence wives, they give up the very idea ofpleasing, and turn all their thoughts to the cares, and those not themost delicate cares, of domestic life: laborious, hardy, active, theyplough the ground, they sow, they reap; whilst the haughty husbandamuses himself with hunting, shooting, fishing, and such exercises onlyas are the image of war; all other employments being, according to hisidea, unworthy the dignity of man.

  I have told you the labors of savage life, but I should observe thatthey are only temporary, and when urg'd by the sharp tooth ofnecessity: their lives are, upon the whole, idle beyond any thing wecan conceive. If the Epicurean definition of happiness is just, that itconsists in indolence of body, and tranquillity of mind, the Indians ofboth sexes are the happiest people on earth; free from all care, theyenjoy the present moment, forget the past, and are without solicitudefor the future: in summer, stretch'd on the verdant turf, they sing,they laugh, they play, they relate stories of their ancient heroes towarm the youth to war; in winter, wrap'd in the furs which bounteousnature provides them, they dance, they feast, and despise the rigors ofthe season, at which the more effeminate Europeans tremble.

  War being however the business of their lives, and the first passionof their souls, their very pleasures take their colors from
it: everyone must have heard of the war dance, and their songs are almost all onthe same subject: on the most diligent enquiry, I find but one lovesong in their language, which is short and simple, tho' perhaps notinexpressive:

  "I love you, I love you dearly, I love you all day long."

  An old Indian told me, they had also songs of friendship, but Icould never procure a translation of one of them: on my pressing thisIndian to translate one into French for me, he told me with a haughtyair, the Indians were not us'd to make translations, and that if Ichose to understand their songs I must learn their language. By theway, their language is extremely harmonious, especially as pronouncedby their women, and as well adapted to music as Italian itself. I mustnot here omit an instance of their independent spirit, which is, thatthey never would submit to have the service of the church, tho' theyprofess the Romish religion, in any language but their own; the women,who have in general fine voices, sing in the choir with a taste andmanner that would surprize you, and with a devotion that might edifymore polish'd nations.

  The Indian women are tall and well shaped; have good eyes, andbefore marriage are, except their color, and their coarse greasy blackhair, very far from being disagreeable; but the laborious life theyafterwards lead is extremely unfavorable to beauty; they become coarseand masculine, and lose in a year or two the power as well as thedesire of pleasing. To compensate however for the loss of their charms,they acquire a new empire in marrying; are consulted in all affairs ofstate, chuse a chief on every vacancy of the throne, are sovereignarbiters of peace and war, as well as of the fate of those unhappycaptives that have the misfortune to fall into their hands, who areadopted as children, or put to the most cruel death, as the wives ofthe conquerors smile or frown.