Complete Novels of Maria Edgeworth

by Maria Edgeworth

  It is curious to observe how good and bad are mingled in human institutions. In countries which were thinly inhabited, this custom prevented private attempts against the lives of individuals, and formed a kind of coroner’s inquest upon the body which had recently expired, and burning the straw upon which the sick man lay became a simple preservative against infection. At night the dead body is waked, that is to say, all the friends and neighbours of the deceased collect in a barn or stable, where the corpse is laid upon some boards, or an unhinged door, supported upon stools, the face exposed, the rest of the body covered with a white sheet. Round the body are stuck in brass candlesticks, which have been borrowed perhaps at five miles’ distance, as many candles as the poor person can beg or borrow, observing always to have an odd number. Pipes and tobacco are first distributed, and then, according to the ABILITY of the deceased, cakes and ale, and sometimes whisky, are DEALT to the company —

  Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,

  Deal on your cakes and your wine,

  For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day

  Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine.

  After a fit of universal sorrow, and the comfort of a universal dram, the scandal of the neighbourhood, as in higher circles, occupies the company. The young lads and lasses romp with one another, and when the fathers and mothers are at last overcome with sleep and whisky (VINO ET SOMNO), the youth become more enterprising, and are frequently successful. It is said that more matches are made at wakes than at weddings.

  GLOSSARY 29. KILT.

  — This word frequently occurs in the preceding pages, where it means not KILLED, but much HURT. In Ireland, not only cowards, but the brave ‘die many times before their death.’ — There KILLING IS NO MURDER.

  BELINDA

  Belinda was first published in 1801 by Joseph Johnson and centres upon a young woman, Belinda Portman, who is sent by her aunt to live with Lady Delacour, hoping she may find a suitable husband. Belinda is instantly fascinated and dazzled by the Lady and believes her to be the most interesting woman she has ever encountered. Lady Delacour proves to be an intriguing character over the course of the novel and her relationship with Belinda is the most engaging and significant dynamic in the tale. There is also the expected romantic narrative strand, which involves a man who has been ‘educating’ a young woman on how to be the perfect wife for him in the future. His plans are thrown into disarray by his attraction to Belinda and he must then attempt to extricate himself from a situation he has created.

  During the late 1700’s, at the time of the French Revolution, radical ideas were circulating in England, including those about gender roles and education. These notions deeply threatened the ruling class and resulted in a strong reactionary response from conservatives, who were terrified that the violence of the French Revolution would cross the Channel. In Belinda, Edgeworth engages with the discussion of female education and the question of whether ‘feminine’ and ‘masculine’ traits are naturally or culturally determined. The greatest advocate of the culturally based distinction was the prominent feminist Mary Wollstonecraft, who wrote the seminal A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, in which she comprehensively dismantled the notion that those virtues associated with ‘masculinity’ were natural to men. Edgeworth endorses this view through her depiction of two characters in her novel: the eponymous Belinda and the ‘masculine’ Harriet Freke.

  In a 2007 essay entitled ‘The Extraordinary Ordinary Belinda: Maria Egdeworth’s Female Philosopher’ Deborah Weiss argues that Edgeworth splits the popular late 18th century figure of the female philosopher into two women to demonstrate the inaccuracy of supposing the sexes possess natural virtues free from socialisation. One of the greatest held beliefs during this period was that men innately possessed a greater intellect than women and when Wollstonecraft contested this she was portrayed as going against nature and ridiculed as a ‘masculine woman’. The female philosopher was often used in anti- Jacobin literature as a version of this ‘masculine woman’ to attack and parody Wollstonecraft. The character of Freke could ostensibly be interpreted as a caricature of the radical feminist except that, as Weiss argues, there is a clear and unmistakeable gulf between Freke’s and Wollstonecraft’s intellects that actually serves to criticise the popular conservative depiction of the Rights of Woman author. Freke is shown not to contain any of the superior virtues associated with masculinity and is revealed to merely mimic certain behaviours which have no relationship to reason, logic or moral value. In contrast, Belinda who in no way appears masculine in appearance, external behaviour, or leisure activities possesses rationality, sense, self-restraint and an analytical mind; those qualities that were co-joined to men and viewed as absent in women. Through her portrayal of these two characters Edgeworth propagated the then radical idea that there are no innate moral or intellectual values that can be ascribed to one sex.

  The title page of an early edition

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I. — CHARACTERS.

  CHAPTER II. — MASKS

  CHAPTER III. — LADY DELACOUR’S HISTORY.

  CHAPTER IV. — LADY DELACOUR’S HISTORY CONTINUED.

  CHAPTER V. — BIRTHDAY DRESSES.

  CHAPTER VI. — WAYS AND MEANS.

  CHAPTER VII. — THE SERPENTINE RIVER.

  CHAPTER VIII. — A FAMILY PARTY.

  CHAPTER IX. — ADVICE.

  CHAPTER X. — THE MYSTERIOUS BOUDOIR.

  CHAPTER XI. — DIFFICULTIES.

  CHAPTER XII. — THE MACAW.

  CHAPTER XIII. — SORTES VIRGILIANAE.

  CHAPTER XIV. — THE EXHIBITION.

  CHAPTER XV. — JEALOUSY.

  CHAPTER XVI. — DOMESTIC HAPPINESS.

  CHAPTER XVII. — RIGHTS OF WOMAN.

  CHAPTER XVIII. — A DECLARATION.

  CHAPTER XIX. — A WEDDING.

  CHAPTER XX. — RECONCILIATION.

  CHAPTER XXI. — HELENA

  CHAPTER XXII. — A SPECTRE.

  CHAPTER XXIII. — THE CHAPLAIN.

  CHAPTER XXIV. — PEU À PEU.

  CHAPTER XXV. — LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG.

  CHAPTER XXVI. — VIRGINIA

  CHAPTER XXVII. — A DISCOVERY.

  CHAPTER XXVIII. — E O.

  CHAPTER XXIX. — A JEW.

  CHAPTER XXX. — NEWS.

  CHAPTER XXXI. — THE DENOUEMENT.

  The frontispiece

  CHAPTER I. — CHARACTERS.

  Mrs. Stanhope, a well-bred woman, accomplished in that branch of knowledge which is called the art of rising in the world, had, with but a small fortune, contrived to live in the highest company. She prided herself upon having established half a dozen nieces most happily, that is to say, upon having married them to men of fortunes far superior to their own. One niece still remained unmarried — Belinda Portman, of whom she was determined to get rid with all convenient expedition. Belinda was handsome, graceful, sprightly, and highly accomplished; her aunt had endeavoured to teach her that a young lady’s chief business is to please in society, that all her charms and accomplishments should be invariably subservient to one grand object — the establishing herself in the world:

  “For this, hands, lips, and eyes were put to school,

  And each instructed feature had its rule.”

  Mrs. Stanhope did not find Belinda such a docile pupil as her other nieces, for she had been educated chiefly in the country; she had early been inspired with a taste for domestic pleasures; she was fond of reading, and disposed to conduct herself with prudence and integrity. Her character, however, was yet to be developed by circumstances.

  Mrs. Stanhope lived at Bath, where she had opportunities of showing her niece off, as she thought, to advantage; but as her health began to decline, she could not go out with her as much as she wished. After manoeuvring with more than her usual art, she succeeded in fastening Belinda upon the fashionable Lady Delacour for the season. Her ladyship was so much pleased by Miss Portman’s accomplishments and vivacity, as to invite h
er to spend the winter with her in London. Soon after her arrival in town, Belinda received the following letter from her aunt Stanhope.

  “Crescent, Bath.

  “After searching every place I could think of, Anne found your bracelet in your dressing-table, amongst a heap of odd things, which you left behind you to be thrown away: I have sent it to you by a young gentleman, who came to Bath (unluckily) the very day you left me — Mr. Clarence Hervey — an acquaintance, and great admirer of my Lady Delacour. He is really an uncommonly pleasant young man, is highly connected, and has a fine independent fortune. Besides, he is a man of wit and gallantry, quite a connoisseur in female grace and beauty — just the man to bring a new face into fashion: so, my dear Belinda, I make it a point — look well when he is introduced to you, and remember, what I have so often told you, that nobody can look well without taking some pains to please.

  “I see — or at least when I went out more than my health will at present permit — I used to see multitudes of silly girls, seemingly all cut out upon the same pattern, who frequented public places day after day, and year after year, without any idea farther than that of diverting themselves, or of obtaining transient admiration. How I have pitied and despised the giddy creatures, whilst I have observed them playing off their unmeaning airs, vying with one another in the most obvious, and consequently the most ridiculous manner, so as to expose themselves before the very men they would attract: chattering, tittering, and flirting; full of the present moment, never reflecting upon the future; quite satisfied if they got a partner at a ball, without ever thinking of a partner for life! I have often asked myself, what is to become of such girls when they grow old or ugly, or when the public eye grows tired of them? If they have large fortunes, it is all very well; they can afford to divert themselves for a season or two, without doubt; they are sure to be sought after and followed, not by mere danglers, but by men of suitable views and pretensions: but nothing to my mind can be more miserable than the situation of a poor girl, who, after spending not only the interest, but the solid capital of her small fortune in dress, and frivolous extravagance, fails in her matrimonial expectations (as many do merely from not beginning to speculate in time). She finds herself at five or six-and-thirty a burden to her friends, destitute of the means of rendering herself independent (for the girls I speak of never think of learning to play cards), de trop in society, yet obliged to hang upon all her acquaintance, who wish her in heaven, because she is unqualified to make the expected return for civilities, having no home, I mean no establishment, no house, &c. fit for the reception of company of a certain rank. — My dearest Belinda, may this never be your case! — You have every possible advantage, my love: no pains have been spared in your education, and (which is the essential point) I have taken care that this should be known — so that you have the name of being perfectly accomplished. You will also have the name of being very fashionable, if you go much into public, as doubtless you will with Lady Delacour. — Your own good sense must make you aware, my dear, that from her ladyship’s situation and knowledge of the world, it will always be proper, upon all subjects of conversation, for her to lead and you to follow: it would be very unfit for a young girl like you to suffer yourself to stand in competition with Lady Delacour, whose high pretensions to wit and beauty are indisputable. I need say no more to you upon this subject, my dear. Even with your limited experience, you must have observed how foolish young people offend those who are the most necessary to their interests, by an imprudent indulgence of their vanity.

  “Lady Delacour has an incomparable taste in dress: consult her, my dear, and do not, by an ill-judged economy, counteract my views — apropos, I have no objection to your being presented at court. You will, of course, have credit with all her ladyship’s tradespeople, if you manage properly. To know how and when to lay out money is highly commendable, for in some situations, people judge of what one can afford by what one actually spends. — I know of no law which compels a young lady to tell what her age or her fortune may be. You have no occasion for caution yet on one of these points.

  “I have covered my old carpet with a handsome green baize, and every stranger who comes to see me, I observe, takes it for granted that I have a rich carpet under it. Say every thing that is proper, in your best manner, for me to Lady Delacour.

  “Adieu, my dear Belinda,

  “Yours, very sincerely,

  “SELINA STANHOPE.”

  It is sometimes fortunate, that the means which are taken to produce certain effects upon the mind have a tendency directly opposite to what is expected. Mrs. Stanhope’s perpetual anxiety about her niece’s appearance, manners, and establishment, had completely worn out Belinda’s patience; she had become more insensible to the praises of her personal charms and accomplishments than young women of her age usually are, because she had been so much flattered and shown off, as it is called, by her match-making aunt. — Yet Belinda was fond of amusement, and had imbibed some of Mrs. Stanhope’s prejudices in favour of rank and fashion. Her taste for literature declined in proportion to her intercourse with the fashionable world, as she did not in this society perceive the least use in the knowledge that she had acquired. Her mind had never been roused to much reflection; she had in general acted but as a puppet in the hands of others. To her aunt Stanhope she had hitherto paid unlimited, habitual, blind obedience; but she was more undesigning, and more free from affectation and coquetry, than could have been expected, after the course of documenting which she had gone through. She was charmed with the idea of a visit to Lady Delacour, whom she thought the most agreeable — no, that is too feeble an expression — the most fascinating person she had ever beheld. Such was the light in which her ladyship appeared, not only to Belinda, but to all the world — that is to say, all the world of fashion, and she knew of no other. — The newspapers were full of Lady Delacour’s parties, and Lady Delacour’s dresses, and Lady Delacour’s bon mots: every thing that her ladyship said was repeated as witty; every thing that her ladyship wore was imitated as fashionable. Female wit sometimes depends on the beauty of its possessor for its reputation; and the reign of beauty is proverbially short, and fashion often capriciously deserts her favourites, even before nature withers their charms. Lady Delacour seemed to be a fortunate exception to these general rules: long after she had lost the bloom of youth, she continued to be admired as a fashionable bel esprit; and long after she had ceased to be a novelty in society, her company was courted by all the gay, the witty, and the gallant. To be seen in public with Lady Delacour, to be a visitor at her house, were privileges of which numbers were vehemently ambitious; and Belinda Portman was congratulated and envied by all her acquaintance, for being admitted as an inmate. How could she avoid thinking herself singularly fortunate?

  A short time after her arrival at Lady Delacour’s, Belinda began to see through the thin veil with which politeness covers domestic misery. — Abroad, and at home, Lady Delacour was two different persons. Abroad she appeared all life, spirit, and good humour — at home, listless, fretful, and melancholy; she seemed like a spoiled actress off the stage, over-stimulated by applause, and exhausted by the exertions of supporting a fictitious character. — When her house was filled with well-dressed crowds, when it blazed with lights, and resounded with music and dancing, Lady Delacour, in the character of Mistress of the Revels, shone the soul and spirit of pleasure and frolic: but the moment the company retired, when the music ceased, and the lights were extinguishing, the spell was dissolved.

  She would sometimes walk up and down the empty magnificent saloon, absorbed in thoughts seemingly of the most painful nature.

  For some days after Belinda’s arrival in town she heard nothing of Lord Delacour; his lady never mentioned his name, except once accidentally, as she was showing Miss Portman the house, she said, “Don’t open that door — those are only Lord Delacour’s apartments.” — The first time Belinda ever saw his lordship, he was dead drunk in the arms of two footmen, who were
carrying him up stairs to his bedchamber: his lady, who was just returned from Ranelagh, passed by him on the landing-place with a look of sovereign contempt.

  “What is the matter? — Who is this?” said Belinda.

  “Only the body of my Lord Delacour,” said her ladyship: “his bearers have brought it up the wrong staircase. Take it down again, my good friends: let his lordship go his own way. Don’t look so shocked and amazed, Belinda — don’t look so new, child: this funeral of my lord’s intellects is to me a nightly, or,” added her ladyship, looking at her watch and yawning, “I believe I should say a daily ceremony — six o’clock, I protest!”

  The next morning, as her ladyship and Miss Portman were sitting at the breakfast-table, after a very late breakfast, Lord Delacour entered the room.

  “Lord Delacour, sober, my dear,” — said her ladyship to Miss Portman, by way of introducing him. Prejudiced by her ladyship, Belinda was inclined to think that Lord Delacour sober would not be more agreeable or more rational than Lord Delacour drunk. “How old do you take my lord to be?” whispered her ladyship, as she saw Belinda’s eye fixed upon the trembling hand which carried his teacup to his lips: “I’ll lay you a wager,” continued she aloud—”I’ll lay your birth-night dress, gold fringe, and laurel wreaths into the bargain, that you don’t guess right.”

  “I hope you don’t think of going to this birth-night, lady Delacour?” said his lordship.

  “I’ll give you six guesses, and I’ll bet you don’t come within sixteen years,” pursued her ladyship, still looking at Belinda.

  “You cannot have the new carriage you have bespoken,” said his lordship. “Will you do me the honour to attend to me, Lady Delacour?”