CHAP. V.
Contains a remarkable proof, that tho' the passions may operate with greater velocity and vehemence in youth, yet they are infinitely more strong and permanent, when the person is arrived at maturity, and are then scarce ever eradicated. Love and friendship are then, and not till then, truly worthy of the names they bear; and that the one between those of different sexes, is always the consequence of the other.
The inclination we have, and the pleasure it gives us to think well of our abilities, leads us frequently into the most gross mistakes, concerning the springs of action in our breasts. We are apt to ascribe to the strength of our reason, what is in reality the effect of one or other of the passions, sometimes even those of the worst kind, and which a sound judgment would most condemn, and endeavour to extirpate. — Man is a stranger to nothing, more than to himself; — the recesses of his own heart, are no less impenetrable to him, than the worlds beyond the moon; — he is blinded by vanity, and agitated by desires he knows not he is possessed of.
It was not reason but revenge, which dissipated the immoderate grief of Natura on the death of his son; — it was not reason but pride, which made him see the inconveniences of marrying with Lætitia; — and yet doubtless he gave the praise of these events to the strength of his prudence: to that too he also ascribed the resolution he now took of living single during the remainder of his life; whereas it was in truth only owing to his being at present acquainted with no object capable of inspiring him with the tender passion.
As he was now entirely free from all business, or avocation of any kind whatsoever, it came into his head to go and pass some part of the summer season with his sister: — he accordingly crossed the country to her seat, and was received with all imaginable demonstrations of joy, both by herself and husband.
He found their family increased by the addition of a lady, who preferring a country to a town life, had desired to board with them, which was readily granted by the sister of Natura, not only as she was a relation of her husband, but also for the sake of having a companion so perfectly agreeable as this lady was in every respect.
Charlotte, for so she was called, had been left a widow within three months after her marriage, and had never entertained any thoughts of entering into a second engagement, though her person, jointure, and accomplishments, had attracted many sollicitations on that score. She was about thirty years of age when Natura found her at his sister's; and through the chearfulness of her temper, and the goodness of her constitution, had preserved in her countenance all the bloom of fifteen. — The charms of her person, however, made no impression on Natura at his first acquaintance with her; he thought her a fine woman, as every one did who saw her, but her charms reached not his heart, nor gave him any emotions, either of pain or pleasure.
But it was not for any longtime he remained in this state of insensibility. — Charlotte had graces which could not fail of conquest, sooner or later: — where those of her eyes wanted the power to move, her tongue came in to their assistance, and was sure of gaining the day: — there was something so resistless in her wit, and manner of conversation, that none but those by nature, or want of proper education, were too dull and stupid to understand, but must have felt an infinity of satisfaction in it.
Besides all this, there was a sympathy of humour between this lady and Natura, which greatly contributed to make them pleased with each other: — both were virtuous by nature, by disposition gay and chearful: — both were equally lovers of reading; had a smattering of philosophy, were perfectly acquainted with the world, and knew what in it was truly worthy of being praised or contemned; and what rendered them still more conformable, was the aversion which each testified to marriage. — Natura's treatment from his wife, had made him speak with some bitterness against a state, which had involved him in so many perplexities; and Charlotte, though so short a time a wife, having been married against her inclination, and to a man who, it seems, knew not her real value, had found in it the beginning of disquiets, which prognosticated worse mischiefs, had not his death relieved her from them, and made her too thankful for the deliverance, to endure the thoughts of venturing a second time to give up her freedom.
This parity of sentiments, inclinations, and dispositions, it was which, by degrees, endeared them to each other, without knowing they were so.
Natura became at last impatient out of the company of Charlotte, and Charlotte found a restlessness in herself whenever Natura was absent; but this indeed happened but seldom: — the mutual desire they had of being together, made each of them industriously avoid all those parties of pleasure, in which both could not have a share: — Natura excused himself from accompanying his brother-in-law in any of those diversions where women were not admitted; and Charlotte always had some pretence for staying at home when the sister of Natura made her visits to the ladies of the country; — yet was this managed on both sides with such great decency and precaution, that neither the one nor the other perceived the motive which occasioned their being so rarely separated; much less had the family any notion of it.
It is certain, that never any two persons were possessed of a more true and delicate passion for each other: — the flame which warmed their breasts, was meerly spiritual, and platonic; — the difference of sex was never considered: — Natura adored Charlotte, not because she was a lovely woman, but because he imagined somewhat angelic in her mind; and Charlotte loved Natura not because he had an agreeable person, but because she thought she discovered more charms in his soul, than in that of any other man or woman.
The acquaintance between them soon grew into an intimacy, and that intimacy, by degrees, ripened into a friendship, which is the height and very essence of love, though neither of them would allow themselves to think it so: they made no scruple, however, of assuring each other, of their mutual esteem, and promised all the good offices in the power of either, with a freedom which they would not have done (especially Charlotte, who was naturally very reserved) had they been sensible to what lengths their present attachment might in time proceed.
Winter now drew on, but Natura was too much rivetted to think of departing, and would doubtless have made some pretext for living altogether with his sister, had not an accident happened, which made his going a greater proof of the regard he had for Charlotte, than his staying could have done, and perhaps made him know the real sentiments he was possessed of on her account, much sooner than he should without it.
That lady had some law-affairs, which required either herself, or some very faithful and diligent friend to attend. Term was approaching, and the brother-in-law of Natura had promised to take a journey to London for that purpose; but he unfortunately had been thrown from his horse in a hunting match, and broke his leg, and Charlotte seemed in a good deal of anxiety, who she should write to, in order to entrust with the care of her business, which she justly feared would suffer much, if left wholly to the lawyer's own management.
Natura on this offered his service, and told her, if she would favour him with her confidence in this point, he would go directly to London, where she might depend on his diligence and fidelity in the forwarding her business: — as she had not the least doubt of either, she accepted this testimony of his friendship, with no other reluctance, than what the being long deprived of his conversation occasioned. — Her good sense, notwithstanding, got the better of that consideration, which she looked upon only at an indulgence to herself, and committed to his care all the papers necessary to be produced, in case he succeeded so well for her, as to bring the suit to a trial.
The manner of their taking leave was only such as might be expected between two persons, who professed a friendly regard for each other; but Natura had no sooner set out on his journey, than he felt a heaviness at his heart, for having left the adorable Charlotte, which nothing but the consideration that he was employed on her business, and going to serve her could have asswaged.
This was, indeed, a sweet consolation to him, and on his arrival in town, set himself to enquire into the causes of that delay she had complained of, with so much assiduity, that he easily found out she had not been well treated by her lawyers, and that one of them had even gone so far as to take fees from her adversary; — he therefore put the affair into other hands, and ordered matters so, that the trial could not, by any means, be put off till another time.
Yet, in spite of all this diligence, it was the opinion of the council, that there was an absolute necessity for the lady to appear herself: — it is hard to say, whether Natura was more vexed or pleased at this intelligence; he was sorry that he could not, of himself, accomplish what he came about, and spare her the trouble of a journey he had found was very disagreeable to her, not only on account of her aversion to the town, and the ill season of the year for travelling, but also because the person she contended with was a near relation, and she was very sensible would engage many of their kindred to disswade her from doing herself that justice she was resolute to persist in her attempts for procuring. — The thoughts of the perplexity this would give her, it was that filled him with a good deal of trouble; but then the reflection, that he should have the happiness of seeing her again, on this account, much sooner than he could otherwise have done, gave him at least an equal share of satisfaction.
The gentlemen of the long robe employed in her cause, and whose veracity and judgment he was well assured of, insisting she must come, put an end to his suspense, and he wrote to her for that purpose: the next post brought him an answer which, to his great surprize, expressed not the least uneasiness on the score of this journey, only acquainted him, that she had taken a place in the stage, should set out next morning, and in three days be in London; against which time, she begged he would be so good to provide her a commodious lodging, she being determined to go to none of her kindred, for the reason abovementioned.
Being animated with exactly the same sentiments Natura was, that inclination which led him to wish her coming, influenced her also to be pleased with it, and rendered the fatigue of the journey, and those others she expected to find on her arrival, of no consequence, when balanced against the happiness she proposed, in re-enjoying the conversation of her aimable and worthy friend.
But all this Natura was ignorant of; nor did his vanity suggest to him the least part of what passed in his favour in the bosom of his lovely Charlotte; but he needed no more than the knowledge she was coming to a place where he should have her company, with less interruption than he had hitherto the opportunity of, to make him the most transported man alive. As he had no house of his own in town to accommodate her with, he provided lodgings, and every thing necessary for her reception, with an alacrity worthy of his love, and the confidence she reposed in him; and went in his own coach to take her from the stage some miles on the road. She testified her gratitude for the care he took of her affairs, in the most obliging and polite acknowledgments; and he returned the thanks she gave him, with the sincerest assurances, that the thoughts of having it in his power to do her any little service, afforded him the most elevated pleasure he had ever known in his whole life.
What they said to each other, however, on this score, was taken by each, more as the effects of gallantry and good breeding, than the real motives from which the expressions they both made use of, had their source: — equal was their tenderness, equal also was their diffidence, it being the peculiar property of a true and perfect love, always to fear, and never to hope too much.
Natura had taken care to chuse her an apartment very near the place where he lodged himself, which luckily happened to be in an extreme airy and genteel part of the town; so that he had the pleasure of seeing her, not only every day, but almost every hour in the day, on one pretext or other, which his industrious passion dictated; and this almost continual being together, and, for the most part, without any other company, very much increased the freedom between them, though that freedom never went farther, even in a wish, on either side, for a long time at least, than that of a brother and sister.
Though all imaginable diligence was used to bring the law-suit to an issue, those with whom Charlotte contested, found means to put it off for yet one more term, she was obliged to stay that time; but neither felt in herself, nor pretended to do so, any repugnance at it: — Natura had enough to do to conceal his joy on this occasion; and when he affected a concern for her being detained in a place she had so often declared an aversion for, he did it so awkwardly, that had she not been too much taken up with endeavouring to disguise her own sentiments on this account, she could not but have seen into his.
As neither of them seemed now to take any delight in balls, plays, operas, masquerades, cards, or any of the town diversions, they passed all their evenings together, and, for the most part, alone, as I before observed; — their conversation was chiefly on serious topics, and such as might have been improving to the hearers, had any been permitted; and when they fell on matters which required a more gay and sprightly turn, their good humour never went beyond an innocent chearfulness, nor in the least transgressed the bounds of the strictest morality and modesty.
How long this platonic intercourse would have continued, is uncertain; but the second term was near elapsed, the suit determined in favour of Charlotte, and her stay in town necessary but a very days before either of them entertained any other ideas, than such as I have mentioned. Natura then began to regret the diminution of the happiness he now enjoyed, and indeed of the total loss of it; for though he knew it would not be wondered at, that his complaisance should induce him to attend Charlotte in her journey to his sister's, yet he was at a loss for a pretence to remain there for any long time. — Charlotte, on the other hand, considered on the separation which, in all appearance, must shortly be between them, with a great deal of anxiety, and was even sorry the completion of her business had left her no excuse for staying in town, since she could not expect it either suited with his inclinations, or situation of affairs, to live always in the country.
These cogitations rendered both very uneasy in their minds, yet neither of them took any steps to remedy a misfortune equally terrible to each; and the event had doubtless proved as they imagined, had not the latent fires which glowed in both their breasts, been kindled into a flame by foreign means, and not the least owing to themselves.
One of those gentlemen who had been council for Charlotte, and had behaved with extraordinary zeal in her behalf, had been instigated thereto, more by the charms of her person, than the fees he received from her; — in fine, he was in love with her; but his passion was not of that delicate nature, which fills the mind with a thousand timid apprehensions, and chuses rather to endure the pains of a long smothered flame, than run the hazard of offending the adored object, by disclosing it.
He had enquired into her family and fortune, and finding there was nothing of disparity between them, he declared his passion to her, and declared it in terms which seemed not to savour of any great fears of being rejected. — He was in his prime of life, had an agreeable person, and a good estate, the consciousness of which, together with his being accustomed to plead with success at the bar, made him not much doubt, but his eloquence and assurance would have the same effect on his mistress, as it frequently had on the judges: but the good opinion he had of himself, greatly deceived him in this point; he met with a rebuff from Charlotte, which might have deterred some men from prosecuting a courtship she seemed determined never to encourage: but though he was a little alarmed at it, he could not bring himself to think she was enough in earnest to make him desist: in every visit he paid her, he interlarded his discourse on business with professions of love, which at length so much teized her, that she told him plainly, she would sooner suffer her cause to be lost, than suffer herself to be continually persecuted with sollicitations, which she had ever avoided since her widowhood, and ever should do so.
Natura came in one day just as the counsellor was going out of her apartment; he observed a great confusion in his face, and some emotions in her's, which shewed her mind a little ruffled from that happy composure he was accustomed to find it in. On his testifying the notice he took of this change in her countenance, “It is strange thing,” said she, “that people will believe nothing in their own disfavour! — I have told this man twenty times, that if I were disposed to think of a second marriage, which I do not believe I ever shall, the present sentiments I am possessed of, would never be reversed by any offer he could make me; yet will he still persist in his impertinent declarations.”
There needed no more to convince Natura he had a rival; nor, as he knew Charlotte had nothing of coquetry in her humour, to make him also know she was not pleased with having attracted the affections of this new admirer: this gave him an inexpressible satisfaction; for tho', as yet, he had never once thought of making any addresses to her on the score of love, death was not half so terrible to him, as the idea of her encouraging them from any other man.
“Then, madam,” cried he, looking on her in a manner she had never seen him do before, “the councellor has declared a passion for you, and you have rejected him?” — “is it possible?” — “Possible!” interrupted she, “can you believe it possible I should not do so, knowing, as you do, the fixed aversion I have to entering into any second engagement!” — “but were it less so,” continued she, after a pause, “his sollicitations would be never the more agreeable to me.”
Natura asked pardon for testifying any surprize, which he assured her was totally owing, either to this proof of the effect of her charms, “which,” said he, “are capable of far greater conquests; or to your refusal of the councellor's offer, after the declarations you have made against a second marriage, but was excited in me meerly by the novelty of the thing, having heard nothing of it before.”
“This had not been among the number of the few things I conceal from you,” answered she, “if I had thought the repetition worthy of taking up any part of that time which I always pass with you on subjects more agreeable”; — “besides,” continued she, “it was always my opinion, that those women, who talk of the addresses made to them, are secretly pleased with them in their hearts, and like the love, tho' they may even despise the lover. For my part, I can feel no manner of satisfaction in relating to others, what I had rather be totally ignorant of myself.”
Natura had here a very good opportunity of complimenting her on the excellency of her understanding, which set her above the vanities of the generality of her sex; and indeed he expressed himself with so much warmth on this occasion, that it even shocked her modesty, and she was obliged to desire him to change the conversation, and speak no more of a behaviour, which was not to be imputed to her good sense, but to her disposition.
Never had Natura found it more difficult to obey her than now; — he could have expatiated for ever on the many and peculiar perfections both of her mind and person; but he perceived, that to indulge the darling theme, would be displeasing to her, and therefore forced himself to put a stop to the utterance of those dictates, with which his heart was now charged, even to an overflowing.
Such was the effect of this incident on both: Natura, who till now had thought he loved only the soul of his mistress, found how dear her lovely person was also to him, by the knowledge that another was endeavouring to get possession of it; and Charlotte, by the secret satisfaction she felt on those indications Natura, in spite of his efforts to the contrary, had given of a more than ordinary admiration of her, discovered, for the first time, that he was indeed the only man whose love would not be displeasing to her.
After Natura came home, and had leisure to meditate on this affair, he began with thinking how terrible it would be to him, to see Charlotte in the arms of a husband; and when he reflected, that such a thing might be possible, even though he doubted not the sincerity of her present aversion, the idea was scarce to be borne: — from this he naturally fell on figuring to himself how great a blessing that man would enjoy, who should always have the sweet society of so amiable a companion; — and this made him cry out, “Why then, what hinders me from endeavouring to become that happy man? — If I resolved against any future marriage, it was when I knew not the adorable Charlotte, nor believed there was so excellent a woman in the world.” — In this rapturous imagination did he continue for a moment, but then the improbability of succeeding in any such attempt, struck him with an adequate despair. — “Though the uncommon merit of the woman I adore,” said he, “compels me to change the resolution I had taken, there is not the same reason to prevail on her to recede from her's. — Past the bloom of life, and already twice a husband, can I flatter myself with the fond hope she will not reject the proposals I should make with the same scorn she did those of the councillor?”
Charlotte, on the other hand, was engrossed by reflections vastly different from those she was accustomed to entertain: — never woman was more free from vanity, or thought less of the power of her charms, yet she could not hinder herself from thinking there was somewhat in the behaviour of Natura, in his last visit, that denoted a regard beyond an ordinary friendship for her. — This apprehension, at first, a little startled her, or at least she imagined it did so, and she said to herself, “If he should really harbour any inclinations for me of that sort, how unhappy should I be in being obliged to break off my acquaintance with a person so every way agreeable to me; and to continue it, would be to countenance a passion I have determined never to give the least attention to.” — “Yet wherefore did I determine?” pursued she, with a sigh, “but because I found the generality of men mere wandering, vague, inconstant creatures; — were guided only by fancy; — never consulted their judgment, whether the object they pretended to admire, had any real merit or not, and often too treated those worst who had the best claim to their esteem; — besides, one seldom finds a man whose person and qualifications are every way suited to one's liking: — Natura is certainly such as I should wish a husband to be, if I were inclined to marry again; — I have not taken a vow of celibacy, and have nobody to controul my actions”: — “then,” said she again, “what foolish imaginations comes into my head; perhaps he has not the least thought of me in the way I am dreaming of; — no, no, he has suffered too much by the imprudence of one woman, to put it in the power of another to treat him in the same manner; — be trembles at marriage; — I have heard him declare it, and I am deviating into a vanity I never before was guilty of.”
She was debating in this fashion within herself, when Natura came to pay his morning visit: she blushed at his approach, conscious of the meditations she had been in on his account. — He, full of the sentiments I have described, saluted her with an air more grave and timid than he had been accustomed, and which all who are judges of the tender passion, know to be the surest symptom of it. — They sat down, and on his beginning to renew some discourse concerning the counsellor's pretensions, she desired him to forbear so disagreeable a topic, telling him at the same time, he could say nothing else she would not listen to with satisfaction. — “How, madam,” cried he, “are you sure of that? — Alas, you little know what passes in my heart, or you would not permit me this toleration.” This might have been sufficient to make some women convinced of the truth; but Charlotte either fearful of being deceived by her own vanity, or willing he should be more explicit, answered, “I have too high an opinion of your good sense, and too flattering an idea of your friendship to me, to imagine your heart will ever suggest any thing which would be offensive to me from your tongue.”
“Suppose, madam,” said he, “it should not be in my power to restrain my wishes in those bounds prescribed by you, to all who have the happiness of conversing with you; and that I were encroaching enough not to be content with the marks of friendship you are pleased to honour me”: — “in fine,” continued he, “suppose I were guilty of the very same presumption, you have so severely censured in the councellor!”
“That is impossible,” replied she, “since you are a foe professed to marriage, as well as myself”; — she was about to add something more, but was prevented by emotions, which she attempted, but in vain, to conceal; and Natura saw enough to keep him from despairing he had forfeited her esteem by aiming at her love.
Having thus made a beginning, it was easy for him to prosecute a suit, which he soon discovered he had a friend in her bosom to plead in favour of: — in a word, he left her not, till he had obtained her permission to entertain her on the same theme, and to use his endeavours to prevail on her to exchange the friendship she confessed for him into a warmer passion.
It would be altogether needless to make any repetition of the particulars of this courtship; the reader will easily believe, that both parties being animated with the same sentiments I have described, it could not be very tedious; — love had already done his work in their hearts, and required little the labour of the tongue. Charlotte had entirely compleated every thing appertaining to her law-suit, yet she seemed not in a hurry to quit the town; a business of a more tender nature now detained her; — she had resolved, or rather she could not help resolving, to give herself to Natura, and the shame of doing what she had so often, and so strenuously declared against, rendered the thoughts of returning into the country in a different state, from that with which she had left it, insupportable to her.
After having agreed to the sollicitations of her importunate lover, she expressed her sentiments to him on this head; on which it was concluded, that their nuptials should be solemnized as privately as possible in London, and that they should set out immediately after for his country seat, where Charlotte, being utterly a stranger, would not be subjected to any of those little railleries, she must have expected, in a place where every one knew of the aversion she had testified for a second marriage.
No cross accident intervening, what they designed was, in a short time, carried into execution; — never were any pair united by more indelible bonds; those of friendship sublimed into the most pure and virtuous tenderness, and a parity of principles, humours, and inclinations.
Thus does passion triumph over the most seemingly fixed and determined resolution; and though it must be confessed, that in this instance, both had reason, from the real merits of the beloved object, to justify their choice, yet nature would certainly have had the same force, and worked the same effect, if excited only by meer fancy, and imaginary perfections.
A Platonic and spiritual love, therefore, between persons of different sexes, can never continue for any length of time. Whatever ideas the mind may conceive, they will at last conform to the craving of the senses; and the soul, though never so elevated, find itself incapable of enjoying a perfect satisfaction, without the participation of the body. — As inclination then is not always guided by a right judgment, nor circumstances always concur to render the indulging an amorous propensity either convenient, or lawful, how careful ought every one be, not to be deceived by a romantic imagination, so far as to engage in an affection which, sooner or later, will bring them to the same point that Natura and Charlotte experienced.