“At length, I discovered the whole of my father’s more than pressing embarrassments; and understood that Sir R— M— had agreed to give up to him a considerable portion of my fortune if our marriage was effected. This shock to such a disposition as mine was cruel; and the dilemma was distracting: it involved my father’s comforts—or my own misery!
“Often, as we sat at our family repasts, have I perceived that dear parent lay down the fork he was conveying to his lips, and turn away to conceal the agitation of mind which might have betrayed to us that distress he was endeavouring to conceal.
“Gradually, I found that filial affection was taking the strongest hold of me. I thought I could endure unhappiness myself, but I could not bear to see my father miserable. I weighed the consequences, and reasoned so far as I possessed the faculty of reasoning. I saw his ruin or my own was inevitable!
“The struggle was, indeed, sharp—it was long—it was very painful: but at length filial piety prevailed over self; and I determined upon making the sacrifice. I communicated to my father my decision to admit the addresses of Sir R— M—, without hinting at my true reasons; but, at the same moment, I felt an indescribable change of character commence, which, from that sad period, has more or less affected every action of my life. I felt a sort of harsh sensation arise within my mind, and operate upon my temper, to which they had previously been strangers. My spirits flagged,—all pleasures grew insipid; and I perceived that the ice of indifference was chilling the sensibility of my nature.
“From the moment of my assent, my father’s disposition seemed to have undergone almost as radical a change as my own. He became once more cheerful, and I had at least the gratification of reflecting that, if I were myself lost, I had saved a parent! But I must remark that it was not so as to my mother—who, indeed, had not been kind to me.
“In due time the settlements were prepared, and my fortune, I learnt, secretly divided. The ceremony was about to be performed, and Sir R— M— at that very hour appeared to me to be the most disagreeable of mankind. There was a sort of uncouth civility—an abrupt, fiery, coarse expression, even in his most conciliating manners, which seemed to set all feelings of respect or cordiality at defiance. As to love, he was not susceptible of the passion; whilst I was created to enjoy its tenderest blessings. He was half mad by nature;—I had become so from misery! and in this state of mind we met to be united at the altar! I was determined, however, that he should learn by anticipation what he had to expect from me as a wife. ‘Sir R— M—, (said I to him,) I am resolved to give you the last proof you will ever receive of my candour. I accept you, not only as a husband whom I never can love, and never will obey, but whom I absolutely detest!—now marry me at your peril, and take the consequences!’—He laughed convulsively, took me by the hand, and having led me into the next room, that ceremony was performed to which I should have thought a sentence of death preferable. The moment we were united I retired to my chamber, where tears, flowing in torrents, cooled my heated feelings. My purpose in marrying was effected: I therefore determined that (if possible) I never would live an hour in his society, and it was two months before my ill-fated stars compelled me to become the actual wife of the most unfeeling and abominable of fanatics.
“Our residence together of course was short, and at twenty-one I was thrown upon the world, to avoid my husband’s society. Being possessed of sufficient means, I travelled; and for the fourteen years of our separation my whole time was an unnatural and continued strife between passion and propriety. On a late occasion, you were my counsel, and from you nothing has been concealed. You did me more than justice—you have defeated him, and preserved me!”
I have not seen her ladyship for these many years; but never did I meet with one whom I conceived to be more completely thrown away, or whose natural disposition seemed better calculated to lead to her own happiness and to the happiness of those within her sphere of influence. I speak of her as she was when I knew her; and I have no reason to alter my impressions. Her father, mother, and husband, are all gone: how she is situated with regard to her surviving connexions, I know not.
PATRICIANS AND PLEBEIANS.
The three classes of gentlemen in Ireland described—Irish poets—Mr. Thomas Flinter and D. Henesey—The bard—Peculiarities of the peasants—Their ludicrous misinformation as to distances accounted for—Civility of a waiter—Equivocation of the peasants, and their misdirection of travellers to different places.