Memoirs of Emma Courtney

by Mary Hays

  This narration deeply affected my heart--I had resigned myself to hisloss--but the idea of his suffering, I felt, was an evil infinitelyseverer. It was this conviction that preyed incessantly on the peaceand health of his mother. My fortitude failed, when I would have triedto sustain her; and I could only afford the melancholy satisfaction ofmingling my sorrows with her's.

  The disorder of my friend rapidly increased--her mind became weakened,and her feelings wayward and irritable. I watched her incessantly--Istrove, by every alleviating care, to soften her pains. Towards theapproach of spring the symptoms grew more threatening; and it was judged,by her physician, necessary to apprize her family of her immediatedanger. What a trial for my exhausted heart! I traced, with a tremblinghand, a line to this melancholy purpose--addressed it to Mr Harley, andthrough him to his younger brothers and sisters.

  In a few days they arrived in the village--sending from the inn aservant, to prepare their mother for their approach. I gently intimatedto her the visitants we might expect. The previous evening, a change hadtaken place, which indicated approaching dissolution; and her mind (notuncommon in similar cases) seemed, almost instantaneously, to haverecovered a portion of its original strength. She sighed deeply, whileher eyes, which were fixed wistfully on my face, were lighted with abright, but transient, lustre.

  'My dear Emma,' said she, 'this is a trying moment for us both. I shallsoon close my eyes, for ever, upon all worldly cares.--Still cherish, inyour pure and ingenuous mind, a friendship for my Augustus--the darlingof my soul! He may, in future, stand in need of consolation. I hadformed hopes--vain hopes!--in which you and he were equally concerned.In the happiness of this partially-favoured child--this idol of myaffections--all mine was concentrated. He has disappointed me, and Ihave lost the desire of living--Yet, he has noble qualities!--Who, alas!is perfect? Summon your fortitude, collect your powers, my child, forthis interview!'

  She sunk on her pillow--I answered her only with my tears. A servantentered--but spoke not--her look announced her tidings--It caught theeye of Mrs Harley--

  'Let them enter,' said she; and she raised herself, to receive them, andassumed an aspect of composure.

  I covered my face with my handkerchief--I heard the sound of footstepsapproaching the bed--I heard the murmurs of filial sorrow--The voiceof Augustus, in low and interrupted accents, struck upon my ear--itthrilled through my nerves--I shuddered, involuntarily--What a moment!My friend spoke a few words, in a faint tone.

  'My children,' she added, 'repay to this dear girl,' laying her handupon mine, 'the debt of kindness I owe her--she has smoothed the pillowof death--she is an orphan--she is tender and unfortunate.'

  I ventured to remove for a moment the handkerchief from my eyes--theymet those of Augustus--he was kneeling by the bed-side--his countenancewas wan, and every feature sunk in dejection; a shivering crept throughmy veins, and chilled my heart with a sensation of icy coldness--heremoved his eyes, fixing them on his dying mother.

  'My son,' she resumed, in still fainter accents, 'behold in Emma,your sister--_your friend!_--confide in her--she is worthy of yourconfidence!'--'Will you not love him, my child,'--(gazing uponme,)--'with a sisterly affection?'

  I hid my face upon the pillow of my friend--I threw my arms aroundher--'Your request is superfluous, my friend, my more than parent, _ah,how superfluous_!'

  'Forgive me, I know the tenderness of your nature--yielding, in theseparting moments, to the predominant affection of my heart--I fear, Ihave wounded that tender nature.' 'Farewell, my children! Love andassist each other--Augustus, where is your hand?--my sight fails me--Godbless you and your little ones--_God bless you all_!--My last sigh--mylast prayer--is yours.'

  Exhausted by these efforts, she fainted--Augustus uttered a deep groan,and raised her in his arms--but life was fled.

  At the remembrance of these scenes, even at this period, my heart ismelted within me.

  What is there of mournful magic in the emotions of virtuous sorrow, thatin retracing, in dwelling upon them, mingles with our tears a sad andsublime rapture? Nature, that has infused so much misery into the cup ofhuman life, has kindly mixed this strange and mysterious ingredient toqualify the bitter draught.

  CHAPTER XV

  After the performance of the last melancholy duties, this afflictedfamily prepared to separate. I received from them, individually,friendly offers of service, and expressions of acknowledgment, for mytender attentions to their deceased parent. I declined, for the present,their invitations, and profferred kindness, though uncertain how todispose of myself, or which way to direct my course. Augustus behavedtowards me with distant, cold, respect. I observed in his features,under a constrained appearance of composure, marks of deep and strongemotion. I recalled to my mind the injunctions of my deceased friend--Iyearned to pour into his bosom the balm of sympathy, but, with an aspectbordering on severity, he repressed the expression of those ingenuousfeelings which formed my character, and shunned the confidence I soearnestly sought. Unfortunate love had, in my subdued and softened mind,laid the foundation of a fervent and durable friendship--But my love, myfriendship, were equally contemned! I relinquished my efforts--I shutmyself in my chamber--and, in secret, indulged my sorrows.

  The house of my deceased friend was sold, and the effects disposed of.On the day previous to their removal, and the departure of the familyfor London, I stole into the library, at the close of the evening, toview, for _the last time_, the scene of so many delightful, so manyafflicting emotions. A mysterious and sacred enchantment is spread overevery circumstance, even every inanimate object, connected with theaffections. To those who are strangers to these delicate, yet powerfulsympathies, this may appear ridiculous--but the sensations are not theless genuine, nor the less in nature. I will not attempt to analysethem, it is a subject upon which the language of philosophy wouldappear frigid, and on which I feel myself every moment on the verge offanaticism. Yet, affections like these are not so much weakness, asstrength perhaps badly exerted. Rousseau was, right, when he asserted,that, 'Common men know nothing of violent sorrows, nor do great passionsever break out in weak minds. Energy of sentiment is the characteristicof a noble soul.'

  I gazed from the windows on the shrubbery, where I had so often wanderedwith my friends--where I had fondly cherished so many flattering, somany visionary, prospects. Every spot, every tree, was associated withsome past pleasure, some tender recollection. The last rays of thesetting sun, struggling from beneath a louring cloud, streamed throughits dark bosom, illumined its edges, played on the window in which I wasstanding, and gilding the opposite side of the wainscot, against whichthe picture of Augustus still hung, shed a soft and mellow lustre overthe features. I turned almost unconsciously, and contemplated it with along and deep regard. It seemed to smile benignly--it wore no traces ofthe cold austerity, the gloomy and inflexible reserve, which now cloudedthe aspect of the original. I called to my remembrance a thousandinteresting conversations--when

  'Tuned to happy unison of soul, a fairer world of which the vulgar never had a glimpse, displayed, its charms.'

  Absorbed in thought, the crimson reflection from the western cloudsgradually faded, while the deep shades of the evening, thickened by theappearance of a gathering tempest, involved in obscurity the object onwhich, without distinctly perceiving it, I still continued to gaze.

  I was roused from this reverie by the sudden opening of the door. Someperson, whom the uncertain light prevented me from distinguishing,walked across the room, with a slow and solemn pace, and, after takingseveral turns backwards and forwards, reclined on the sopha, remainingfor some time perfectly still. A tremor shook my nerves--unable eitherto speak, or to move, I continued silent and trembling--my heart feltoppressed, almost to suffocation--at length, a deep, convulsive sigh,forced its way.

  'My God!' exclaimed the person, whose meditations I had interrupted,'what is that?'

  It was the voice of Mr Harley, he spoke in a stern tone, though withsome degree of tre
pidation, and advanced hastily towards the windowagainst which I leaned.

  The clouds had for some hours been gathering dark and gloomy. Just asAugustus had reached the place where I stood, a flash of lightning,pale, yet vivid, glanced suddenly across my startled sight, anddiscovered to him the object which had alarmed him.

  'Emma,' said he, in a softened accent, taking my trembling and almostlifeless hand, 'how came you here, which way did you enter?'

  I answered not--Another flash of lightning, still brighter, blue andsulphurous, illuminated the room, succeeded by a loud and long peal ofthunder. Again the heavens seemed to rend asunder and discover a sheetof livid flame--a crash of thunder, sudden, loud, short, immediatelyfollowed, bespeaking the tempest near. I started with a kind ofconvulsive terror. Augustus led me from the window, and endeavoured, invain, to find the door of the library--the temporary flashes, and totaldarkness by which they were succeeded, dazzled and confounded the sight.I stumbled over some furniture, which stood in the middle of the room,and unable to recover my feet, which refused any longer to sustain me,sunk into the arms of Augustus, suffering him to lift me to the sopha.He seated himself beside me, the storm continued; the clouds, everymoment parting with a horrible noise, discovered an abyss of fire, whilethe rain descended in a deluge. We silently contemplated this sublimeand terrible scene. Augustus supported me with one arm, while mytrembling hand remained in his. The tempest soon exhausted itself by itsviolence--the lightning became less fierce, gleaming at intervals--thethunder rolled off to a distance--its protracted sound, lengthened bythe echoes, faintly died away; while the rain continued to fall in astill, though copious, shower.

  My spirits grew calmer, I gently withdrew my hand from that of MrHarley. He once more enquired, but in a tone of greater reserve, how Ihad entered the room without his knowledge? I explained, briefly andfrankly, my situation, and the tender motives by which I had beeninfluenced.

  'It was not possible,' added I, 'to take leave of this house _for ever_,without recalling a variety of affecting and melancholy ideas--I feel,that I have lost _my only friend_.'

  'This world,' said he, 'may not unaptly be compared to the rapids on theAmerican rivers--We are hurried, in a frail bark, down the stream--It isin vain to resist its course--happy are those whose voyage is ended!'

  'My friend,' replied I in a faultering voice, 'I could teach my heartto bear your loss--though, God knows, the lesson has been sufficientlysevere--but I know not how, with fortitude, to see you suffer.'

  'Suffering is the common lot of humanity--but, pardon me, when I say,your conduct has not tended to lessen my vexations!'

  'My errors have been the errors of _affection_--Do they deserve thisrigor?'

  'Their source is not important, their consequences have been thesame--you make not the allowances you claim.'

  'Dear, and severe, friend!--Be not unjust--the confidence which Isought, and merited, would have been obviated'--

  'I know what you would alledge--that confidence, you had reason tojudge, was of a painful nature--it ought not to have been extorted.'

  'If I have been wrong, my faults have been severely expiated--ifthe error has been _only mine_, surely my sufferings have been inproportion; seduced by the fervor of my feelings; ignorant of yoursituation, if I wildly sought to oblige you to chuse happiness through amedium of my creation--yet, to have assured _yours_, was I not willingto risque all my own? I perceive my extravagance, my views were equallyfalse and romantic--dare I to say--they were the ardent excesses of agenerous mind? Yes! my wildest mistakes had in them a dignified mixtureof virtue. While the institutions of society war against nature andhappiness, the mind of energy, struggling to emancipate itself, willentangle itself in error'--

  'Permit me to ask you,' interrupted Augustus, 'whether, absorbed in yourown sensations, you allowed yourself to remember, and to respect, thefeelings of others?'

  I could no longer restrain my tears, I wept for some moments insilence--Augustus breathed a half-suppressed sigh, and turned from mehis face.

  'The pangs which have rent my heart,' resumed I, in low and brokenaccents, 'have, I confess, been but too poignant! That laceratedheart still bleeds--we have neither of us been guiltless--_Alas!who is?_ Yet in my bosom, severe feelings are not more painful thantransient--already have I lost sight of your unkindness, (God knows howlittle I merited it!) in stronger sympathy for your sorrows--whateverbe their nature! We have both erred--why should we not exchange mutualforgiveness? Why should we afflict each other? Friendship, like charity,should suffer all things and be kind!'

  'My mind,' replied he coldly, 'is differently constituted.'

  '_Unpitying man!_ It would be hard for us, if we were all to be judgedat so severe a tribunal--you have been a _lover_,' added I, in a softertone, 'and can you not forgive the faults of _love_?'

  He arose, visibly agitated--I also stood up--my bosom deeply wounded,and, unknowing what I did, took his hand, and pressed it to my lips.

  'You have rudely thrown from you a heart of exquisite sensibility--youhave contemned my love, and you disdain my friendship--is it brave, isit manly,' added I wildly--almost unconscious of what I said--forgettingat the moment his situation and my own--'thus to triumph over a spirit,subdued by its affections into unresisting meekness?'

  He broke from me, and precipitately quitted the room.

  I threw myself upon the floor, and, resting my head on the seat whichAugustus had so lately occupied, passed the night in cruel conflict--atempest more terrible than that which had recently spent its force,shook my soul! The morning dawned, ere I had power to remove myselffrom the fatal spot, where the measure of my afflictions seemed filledup.--Virtue may conquer weakness, but who can bear to be despisedby those they love. The sun darted its beams full upon me, but itssplendour appeared mockery--hope and joy were for ever excluded from mybenighted spirit. The contempt of the world, the scoffs of ignorance,the contumely of the proud, I could have borne without shrinking--but tofind myself rejected, contemned, scorned, by him with whom, of allmankind, my heart claimed kindred; by him for whom my youth, my health,my powers, were consuming in silent anguish--who, instead of pouringbalm into the wound he had inflicted, administered only corrosives!--_Itwas too painful!_ I felt, that I had been a lavish prodigal--that I hadbecome a wretched bankrupt; that there was but _one way_ to make mehappy and _a thousand_ to make me miserable! Enfeebled and exhausted, Icrawled to my apartment, and, throwing myself on the bed, gave a looseto the agony of my soul.

  CHAPTER XVI

  Under pretence of indisposition, I refused to meet the family. I heardthem depart. Too proud to accept of obligation, I had not confided tothem my plans, if plans they could be called, where no distinct end wasin view.

  A few hours after their departure, I once more seated myself in a stagecoach, in which I had previously secured a place, and took the road toLondon. I perceived, on entering the carriage, only one passenger, whohad placed himself in the opposite corner, and in whom, to my greatsurprize, I immediately recognized Mr Montague. We had not met since thevisit he had paid me at Mrs Harley's, the result of which I have alreadyrelated: since that period, it had been reported in the village, that headdressed Sarah Morton, and that they were about to be united. Montaguemanifested equal surprize at our meeting: the intelligence of myfriend's death (at which he expressed real concern) had not reached him,neither was he acquainted with my being in that part of the country. Hehad not lately been at Mr Morton's, he informed me, but had just lefthis father's, and was going to London to complete his medical studies.

  After these explanations, absorbed in painful contemplation, I for sometime made little other return to his repeated civilities, than by coldmonosyllables: till at length, his cordial sympathy, his gentle accents,and humane attentions, awakened me from my reverie. Ever accessibleto the soothings of kindness, I endeavoured to exert myself, to provethe sense I felt of his humanity. Gratified by having succeeded inattracting my attention, he redoubled his efforts to cheer and amusem
e. My dejected and languid appearance had touched his feelings, and,towards the end of our journey, his unaffected zeal to alleviate theanxiety under which I evidently appeared to labour, soothed my mind andinspired me with confidence.

  He respectfully requested to know in what part of the town I resided,and hoped to be permitted to pay his respects to me, and to enquireafter my welfare? This question awakened in my bosom so many complicatedand painful sensations, that, after remaining silent for a few minutes,I burst into a flood of tears.

  'I have no home;' said I, in a voice choaked with sobs--'I am an alienin the world--and alone in the universe.'

  His eyes glistened, his countenance expressed the most lively, andtender, commiseration, while, in a timid and respectful voice, he mademe offers of service, and entreated me to permit him to be useful to me.

  'I then mentioned, in brief, my present unprotected situation, andhinted, that as my fortune was small, I could wish to procure a humble,but decent, apartment in a reputable family, till I had consulted onefriend, who, I yet flattered myself, was interested in my concerns, ortill I could fix on a more eligible method of providing for myself.'

  He informed me--'That he had a distant relation in town, a decent,careful, woman, who kept a boarding house, and whose terms were veryreasonable. He was assured, would I permit him to introduce me to her,she would be happy, should her accommodation suit me, to pay me everyattention in her power.'

  In my forlorn situation, I confided, without hesitation, in hisrecommendation, and gratefully acceded to the proposal.