% ^^/^' s ^ Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2010 witii funding from Duke University Libraries littp://www.arcli ive.org/details/moderngriseldataOOedge THE MODERN G R I S E L D A . A TALE. MISS EDGEWORTH, AUTHOR OF PRACTICAL EriJCATION, BELINDA, CASTLE RACKKENT, HISTORY OF IRISH BULLS, LETTERS FOR LITERARY LADIES, POPULAR TALES, 5cC. THE SECOND EDITION, CORRECTED. ■*' And since in man right reason bears the sway, ••• Let that frail thing, weak woman, have her way." Pope. LONDON: • rinted for j. johnson, no. 72, st. paul's churchyard. 180j. H. Bryer, Printer, Bridge- strsel, Blackfriars. THE MODERN GRISELDA. CHAPTER I. *' Blest as th' immortal Gods is he, " The youth who fondly sits by thee, " Who sees, and hears thee all the while, "Softly speak and sweetly smile." Is not this ode set to music, my dear Griselda ? said the happy bridegroom to his bride. Yes, surely, my dear, did you never hear it ? Never, and I am glad of it, for I shall have the pleasure of hearing it for the -first time, from you, my love — » Will { 2 ) Will you be so kind as to play it for me ? Most willingly, said Griselda, with an enchanting smile , but I am afraid that I shall not be able to do it justice, added she, as she sat down to her harp, and threw her white arm across the chords. Charming ! Thank you, my love, said the bridegroom, who had listened with enthusiastic devotion — Will you let me hear it once more? The complaisant bride repeated the strain. Thank you, my dear love, repeatecf her husband. This time he omitted the word *^ 4:harmlng'^ — She missed it, and pouting prettily, said, I never €an play any thing so well the second 4. ( 8 ) Second time as the fir^t — ^She paused, but as no compliment ensued, she continued in a more pettish tone ** And for that reason, I do hate to be made to play any thing twice over.'* I did not know that, ray heard, felt, or understood differently from her, he did not — could not love her. Gnce she was offended by his' liking white better than black ; at ano- ther time she was angry with him for loving the taste of mushrooms. One winter she quarrelled with him for not admiring the touch of satin, and one- summer she was jealous of him for listening to the song of a blackbird. Then, because he could not prefer tO' allother odours the smell of jessamine,, she was ready " to die of a rose in aromatic pain*" The domain of taste,, in the more enlarged sense of the word, became a glorious field of battle^ and afforded. ( 29 ') '^ififord^d subjects of inextinguishable swar. Our heroine was accomplished, :^and knew how to make all her accom- plishments, and her knowledge, of use. As she was mistress not only of the pencil, and of all " ihe cant of criti- cism," she had infinite advantages in the wordy war. From the beau ideal, to the choice of a snufFer-dish, all came within her province, and was to be submitted, without appeal, to her in- stinctive sense of moral order. — Happy fruits of knowledge ! — Happy those, who can thus enlarge their in- ftellectual dorriinion, and can vary eter- inally the dear delight of giving pain. The range of opinion was still more ample than the province of taste, .aifordir.g scope for all the joys of as- sertion. ( so ) sertlon, and declamation — for the op- posing of learned and unlearned au- thorities, — for the quoting the opinions of friends — counting voices instead of arguments — wondering at the absurdity of those who can be of a different ■way of thinking — appealing to the judgment of the whole world — or rest- ing perfectly satisfied with her own. Sometimes the most important, some- times the most trivial, and seenaingly uninteresting subjects gave exercise to Griselda's powers, and in all cases being entirely of her opinion, was the only satisfactory proof of love. Our heroine knew how, with able generalship, to take advantage of time and situation. Just before the birth of their first child, a dispute arose be- tween ( 31 ) tweenthe husband and wife, concern- ing public and private education, which from its vehemence, alarmed the gen- tleman into a perfect conviction that he was in the wrong. Scarcely had Griselda gained this point, when a question arose at the tea-table, res- pecting the Chinese method of making tea. It was doubted by some of the company, whether it was made in a tea-pot, or a tea-cup. Griselda gave her opinion loudly for the tea-pot — her lord and master, inclined to the tea-cup- — and as neither of them had been in China, they could debate without fear of coming to a conclusion. The subject seemed at first insigni- iicant, but the lady's method of ma- jnaging it supplied all deficiencies, and roused ( 32 ) roused all the passions of human na- ture on one side or the other. Victory- hung doubtful y but our heroine won the day, by taking time into the ac- count — Her adversary was in a hurry to go to the wedding of one of his .friends, and quitted the field of battle. CHAP. ( 35 ) CHAP. lit ** Self valuing Fancy, highly crested Pride, *' Strong sovereign Will, and some desire to chide." 1 HERE are, says Dr. Johnson, a thousand familiar disputes which rea* son can never decide ; questions that elude investigation, and make logic ri- diculous — cases where something must be done, and wherj little can be said, '■**** Wretched would be the pair above all names of wretchedness, who should be doomed to adjust by reason every morning, all the detail of a domevStic day. Our heroine made a double advan- J3 i']Crp ( 34 ) tage of this passage j for she regularly reasoned where logic was ridiculous, and could not be prevailed upon to listen to reason, Vv-hen it might have been useful — She substituted her will most frequently for arguments, and often opposed it to her husband's, in order to give him the merit of sacrificing his wishes. When he wanted to read, she suddenly wished to walk j when he wished to walk, she was immersed in her studies. When he was busy, she was talkative — when he was eager to hear her converse, she was inclined to be si- lent. The company that he liked, she disliked ; the public amusements that she most frequented, were those of T\hich he least approved. This species or wil- fulness was the strongest proof of her , ' solicitude ( 35 ) solicitude about his good opinion — ^' She could not bear," she said, " that " he should consider her as a child, ** who was not able to govern herself." — " She could not believe that a man " had confidence in her, unless he ** proved it by leaving her at liberty to *' decide and act for herself." Sometimes she receded, sometimes she advanced in her claims j but with- out marking the daily ebbs and flows of =her humour, it is sufficient to observe, that it continually encroached upon her husband's indulgence— She soon in- sisted upon being consulted, that is obeyed, in affairs which did not imme- diately come under the cognizance of ^^her sex — politics inclusive. This appa- rently exorbitant love of power, was d2 veils'^ ( 56 ) veiled under the most affectionate hu- mility. O my Love ! I know you despise my abilities; you think these things above the comprehension of poor women. I know I am but your plaything after all ; you cannot consider me for a mo- ment as your equal or your friend — I see that I — You talk of these things to your friend Mr. Granby — I am not worthy to hear them. — Well, I am sure I have no ambition, except to possess the confidence of the man I love. The lady forgot that she had, upon a former occasion, considered a profes- sion of esteem from her husband as an insult, and that according to her defi- nition of true-love, esteem was incom- patible with its existence. Tacit'is ( 37 ) Tacitus remarks, that it is comrhon with princes to u ill contradictories ; in this characteristic they have the honor to resemble some of the fair sex, as well as all spoiled children. Having every feasible wish gratified, they are obliged to wish for what is impossible, for want of something to desire or to do — They are compelled to cry for the moon, or for new worlds to conquer.— Our heroine having now attained the summit of human glory and happiness, and feeling almost as much ennui as was expressed by the conqueror of the world, yawned one morning as she sat tete-a-t^te with her husband, and said — I wish I knew what was the matter with me this morning — Why do you D 3 keep ( 3$ ) keep the newspaper all to yourself, my dear ? Here it is for you, my dear, I have finished it. I humbly thank you for giving it to me when you have done with it — I hate stale news — Is there any thing in the paper? for I cannot be at the trou- ble of hunting it.. Yes, my dear, there are the mar- riages of two of our friends — Who ? Who ? Your friend the widow Nettleby, to^ her cousin John Nettleby. Islrs. Nettleby ! Lord ! but why did- you tell me ^ Because you asked rae, my dear. Oh but it is a hundred times plea- santer to read the paragraph one's self —One ( 39 ) — One loses all the pleasure of the surprise by being told — Well ! whose was the other marriage ? Ob, my dear, I will not tell you — I will leave you the pleasure of the sur- prise. But you see I cannot find it — How provoking you are, my dear ! Do pray tell it me. Our friend Mr. Granby. Mr. Granby ! — Dear I Why did not you make me guess ? I should have guessed him directly: But why do you call him our friend } I am sure he is no friend of mine, nor ever was ; I took, an aversion to him, as you may remem- ber, the very first day I saw him i I am sure he is no friend of mine. D 4 I ara ( 40 ) I am sorry for it, my dear — but I hope you will go and seeMrs.Granby. Not I indeed, my dear — Who was she? Miss Cooke. Cooke! — but there are so many Cookes Can't you distinguish her any way ? — Has she no christian name ? Emma, I think — yes, Emma. Emma Cooke! — No; — it cannot be my friend Emma Cooke — for I am sure she was cut out for an old maid. This lady seems to me to be cut out for a good wife May be so — I am sure I'll never go to see her — Pray, my dear, how came you to see so much of her? I have seen very little of her my dear ( ^1 ) dear — I only saw her two or three times before she was married. Then, my dear, how could you de- cide that she is cut out for a good wife ? — I am sure you couid not judge of her by seeing her only two or three times, and before she was married. Indeed, my love, that is a very just observation. I understand that compliment per- fectly, and thank you for it, my dear — ^T must own I can bear any thing better than irony. Irony ! my dear, I was perfectly in earnest. Yes, yes; in earnest — so I perceive — I may naturally be dull of apprehen- sion, but my feeliEigs are quick enouf^h ; I comprehend you too well; Ws — ^t is iirpos- ( 42 ) impossible to judge of a woman before marriage, or to guess what sort of a wife she will make. I presume you speak from experience ^ you have been disappointed yourself, and repent your choice. My dear, what did I say that was like this ! Upon my word 1 meant no such thing; I really was not thinking of you. in the least- No — you never think of me now : I can easily believe that you were not thinking of me in the least. But I said that only to prove to you. that I could not be thinking ill of you< my dear. But I would rather that you thought ill of me, than that you did not think of me at all. { 45 ) Well, my dear, said her husband, Jaughing, I will even think ill of you, if that will please you. Do you laugh at me ? cried she, bursting into tears. When it comes to this, I am wretched indeed ! Never man laughed at the woman he loved ! As long as you had the slightest remains of love for me, you could not make me an object of derision : ridicule and love are incompatible; absolutely in- compatible. Well, I have done my best, my very best to make you happy, but in vain. I see I am not cut out to be a good wife. Happy, happy Mi^. Gran by ! Happy, I hope sincerely, that she will be with my friend, but my happiness must depend on you, my love : so for my ( ^4 ) my sake, if not for your own, be com- posed, and do not torment yourself with such fancies. I do wonder, cried our heroine, starting from her seat, whether this Mrs. Granby is really that Miss Emma Cooke. I'll go and see her directly j see her I must. I am heartily glad of it, my dearj for I am sure a visit to his wife, will give my friend Granby real pleasure. I promise you, my dear, I do not go to give him pleasure, or you either ;, but to satisfy my own — curiosity. The rudeness of this speech would have been intolerable to her husband^ if it had not been for a certain hesita- tion in the emphasis with which she pronounced the word curiosity, which left ( 45 ) kft him in doubt as to her real mo- tive. Jealousy is sometimes thought to be a proof of love; and in this point of view, must not all its caprices, ab- surdities, and extravagancies be grace- ful, amiable, and gratifying ? A few days after Griselda had satis- fied h-er curiosity, she thus, in the pre- sence of her husband, began to vent her spleen : For heaven's sake, dear Mrs. Net- tleby, cried she, addressing herself to the new-married widow, who came to return her wedding visit ; — for pity's sake, dear Mrs. Nettleby, can you, or any body else tell me, what possessed Mr. Granby to marry Emma Cooke ? I am ( 46 ) I am sure J cannot tell, for I have not seen her vet. You will be less able to tell after you have seen her, and less still after you have heard her. What then, she is neither a wit nor a beauty ! I'm quite surprised at that; for I thought to be sure, Mr. Granby, who is such a judge and such a critic, and so nice about female manners, would -not have been content without some- thing very extraordinary. Nothing can be more ordinary. Astonishing ! but I am quite tired of 'being astonished at marriages ! One -sees such strange matches every day, I am resolved never to be surprised at any thing: who ca7i, that lives in the world ? But really now I am surprised at ( 47 ) at Mr. Granby. What ! is she no- thing ? Nothing: absolutely nothing: a cy- pher-: a nonentity. Now really? you do not tell me so, 6aid Mrs. Nettleby: Well, I am so disappointed: for I ahvays resolved to •take example by Mr. Granby 's wife. I would rather that she should take warning by me, said Griselda, laugh- ing : But to be candid, I must tell you that to some people's taste, she is a pattern wife y a perfect Grizzle. She ^nd I should have changed names — or characters. Which, my dear? cried she, appealing to her husband. Not names, my dear, answered he. The conversation might here have " And let your soul be painted in your face ; " No reasons given, and no pretences sought ; " To swerve ia deed,, or word, in. look, or " thought. "^ Well ladies ! cried the modern Gri- selda i what do you think of this ? Shrill exclamations of various vehe- mence, expressed with one accord the sentiments, or rather feelings of almo.st all ( 5-8 ) all the married ladies, who wore pre- sent. Abominable ! Intolerable ! Insuffer- able ! Horrible ! I would rather have seen the man perish at my feet ! I would rather have died ^ I would have remained unmarried all my life, rather than have submitted to such terms. A few young unmarried ladies, who had not spoken, or, who had not been heard to speak in the din of tongues, were appealed to, by the gentlemen next them. They could not be pre^ vailed upon, to pronounce any dis- tinct opinion : they qualified, and he- sitated, and softened, and equivocated,, and, " were not positively able to judge, for really they had never thought upon the subject." _ Upon ( 59 ) Upon the whole, however, it was evident, that they did not betray that natural horror, which pervaded the more experienced matrons. All agreed that the terms were " hard terms," and ill expressed ; some added, that only love could persuade a woman to sub- mit to them. And some bt'ill more sen- timental maidens, in a lower voice, were understood to say, tliat as no- thing is impossible to Cupid, they might be induced to such submission ; but that it must be by a degree of love, which they solemnly declared they had never f^li or could imagine^ as yet. For my part, cried the modern Gri- selda, I would sooner have lived an old miiid to llie days of Mcthusaleni, than ( 60 ) than have been so mean as to have married any man on earth upon such- terms. But I know there are people, who can never think " marriage dear- bought." My dear Mrs. Granby, wc have not yet heard your opinion, and .we should have had yours first, as bride. I forgot that I was bride, said Emma. Forgot ! Is it possible ! cried Mrs. Nettleby ; now this is an excess of modesty, of which I have no notion. But for which Mr. Granby, con- tinued our heroine, turning to Mr. Granby, who at this moment entered the room, ought to make his best bow. Here is your lady, sir, who has just assured us that she forgot she was a bride 3 bow to this exquisite humility.. Exquisite- ( -61 ) Exquisite vanity ! .cried Mr. Granby, she knows " How much the wife is dearer than the bride." She will be a singularly happy wo- man rf she knows that, this time -twelve- month, replied our heroine^ darting a ^reproachful look at -her silent husband. In the mean time, do let us hear Mrs. ^Granby speak for herself ; I must have her opinion of Griselda's promise, to •obey her lord right or wrong, in aU things, no reasons given, to submit in .deed, and word, and look, and thought. If Mrs. Granby tells us that is her theory, we must all reform our prac- tice. Every eye was fixed upon Emma, and every ear was impatient for her ;answer. J should ( 62 ) I should never have Imagined, said she, smiling, that any person's prac- tice could be influenced by my theory, •especially as I have no theory. No more humility, my dear; if you have no theory, you have an opinion of your oWTiy I hope, and we must have a distinct answer to this simple question. AVould you have made the promise that was required from Grl- selda } No ; answered Emma, distinctly no ; for I could never have loved or esteemed the man, who required such a promise. Disconcerted by this answer, which was the very reverse of what she ex- pected, amazed at the modest self- possession with which the timid Emma sr)okc. { 65 ) spoke, and vexed by the symptoms oF approbation which Emma's words and voice excited, our heroine called upon her husband, in a more than usually authoritative tone, and bid him — read on. He obeyed, Emma became again absorbed in the story, and her coun- tenance showed how much she felt all its beatities, and all its pathos. Emma did all she could to repress her feel- ings J and our heroine, all she could to make her and them ridiculous. But in this attempt, she was unsuccessful, for many of the spectators, who at her instigation began by watching Emma's countenance to find subject for ridi- cule, ended by sympathizing with her .unaffected sensibility. Whea '( 64 ) "When the tale was ended, the mo- dern Griselda, who was determined to oppose as strongly as possible the charms of spirit to those of sensibility, burst furious forth into an invective, against the meanness of her namesake, and the tyranny of the odious Gual- therus. Could you have forgiven him Mrs, Granby ? could you have forgiven the monster ? He repeated, said Emma, and does :not a penitent cease to be a monster ? O, I never, never would have for- given him, penitent or not penitent; I would not have forgiven him such sins. I would not have put it into his power to commit them, said Emma. J confegs ( 65 ) I confess the story never touched me in the least, cried Mrs. Bolingbroke. Perhaps for the sair.e reason, that Petrarch's friend said, that he read it unmoved; replied Mrs. Granby: be- cause he could not believe, that such a woman as Griselda ever existed. No, no, not for that reason : I b«- fieve many such poor, meek, mean-, spirited creatures exist. Emma v^as at length wakened to the perception of her friend's envy anil; jealousy; but — " She mild forgave the failing of h^r sex.'* I cannot admire the original Gri- selda, or any of her imitators, continued eur heroine. There is no great danger of her F finding ( 66 ) finding imitators in these days, said Mr. Granby. Had Chaucer lived in our enh'ghtened times, he would doubt- less have drawn a very different cha- racter. The modern Griselda looked " fierce as ten furies." Emma softened her husband's observation by adding, that Allowance should certainly be made for poor Chaucer, if we consider the times in which he wrote. The situation and understanding's of women have been so much improved since his days. Women were then slaves, now they are free. My dear, Vv'hispered she to her husband, your mother is not well, shall we go home ? Emma left the room, and even Mrs.. Nettleby, after she was gone, said Rcalh f 67 ) Really she is not ugly when she blushes. No woman is ugly when she blushes, replied our heroine; but unluckily a woman cannot always blush. Finding that her attempt to make Emma ridiculous had failed, and that it had really placed !Mrs. Granby's un- derstanding, manners, and temper, in a most advantageous and amiable light; Griselda was mortified beyond mea- sure. She could scarcely bear to hear Emma's name mentioned. y 2 CHAP* ( 68 ) CHAP. V. " She that can please, is certain to persuade, *' To day is loved, to morrow is obeyed. A FEW days after the reading party, Griselda was invited to spend an even- ing at Mrs. Granby's. I shall not go, said she, throwing down the card with an air of disdain. I shall go, said her husband, calmly. You will go my dear ! cried she, amazed. You will go without me? Not without you, if you will be so kind as to go with me my love, said he. It ( 69 ) It is quite out of my power, said she; I am engaged to my friend Mrs. Nettleby. Very well my dear, said he 3 do as you please. Certainly I shall. And I am sur- prised, my dear, that you do not go to see Mr. John Nettleby. I have no desire to see him, my dear. He is, as I have often beard you say, an obstinate fool. He is a man I dislike particularly. Very possibly, but you ought to go? to see him notwithstanding. Why so, my dear? Because he is married to a woman; I like. If you had any regard for me, your own feelings would have saved you the trouble of asking that question*. F 3 But,, ( 70 ) But, my dear, should not your re- gard for me also suggest to you, the propriety of keeping up an acquaint- ance with Mrs. Granby, who is married to a man I like; and who is not her- self an obstinate fool. I shall not enter into any discussion upon the subject, replied our heroine^ for this was one of the cases, where she made it a rule never to reason. I can only say, that I have my own opinion, and that I beg to be excused trom keeping up any acquaintance whatever with Mrs. Granby. And I beg to be excused from keep- ing up any acquaintance whatever with Mr. Nettleby; replied her husband. Good Heavens! cried she, raising herself upon the sofa, on which she had ( ii ) had Been reclining, and fixing her eyes upon her husband, with unfeigned astonishment : I do not know you this morning, my dear. Possibly not, my dear, replied he, for hitherto you have seen only your lover, now you see your husband. Never did metamorphosis excite . more astonishment. The lady was utterly unconscious that she had had any part in producing it, that she had herself dissolved the spell. She raged, she raved, she reasoned, in vain. Her point she could not compass. Her cruel husband persisted ia. his deter- mination not to go to see Mr. Johu Nettleby. Absolutely astounded she was silent. There was a truce for iome hours. She renewed the attack F 4 in ( 72 ) in the evening, and ceased not hostili^ ties for three succeeding days and nights in reasonable hopes of wearying the enemy, still without success. The morning rose, the great the important day, which was to decide the fate q{ the vioit. The contending parties met as Uoual at breakfast 5 they seemed mutually afraid of each other, and stood at bay. There was a forced- calm in the gentleman's demeanour^, treacherous smiles played upon the lady's countenance. He seemed cau- tious to prolong the suspension of hostilities, she fond to anticipate the victory. The name of Mrs. Granby, or of Mr. John Nettleby, was not ut^ tered by either party, nor did either inquire where the other was to spend lh£ ( 78 ) the evening; at dinner, they met again, and preserved on this delicate subject, a truly diplomatic silence, whilst on the topics foreign to their thoughts, they talked with admirable fluency : actuated by as sincere desire^ as ever was felt by negotiating politi- cians, to establish peace on the broad- est basis,, they were, mitk tlie inost perfect consideration, each other's de- voted, and most obedient humble ser- vants. Candor, however, obliges us to confess that though the deference on the part of the gentleman was the most unqualified and praise worthy,, the lady was superior in her inimitable air of frank cordiality. The v.olto sciolto, was in her favour, the pensieri slreUi^ in his. Any one but an ara- bassador^. ( '7* 1 bassador, would have been deceived by the husband 5 any one but a woman, would have been duped by the wife. So stood affairs, when after dinner, the high and mighty powers separated. The lady retired to her toilette. The gentleman remained with his bottle. He drank a glass of wine extraordi- nary. She stayed half an hour more than usual at her mirror. Arrayed for battle, our heroine repaired to the drawing-room, which she expected to find unoccupied ^ — the enemy had taken the field. Dressed my dear said he. Ready my love ! said she. Shall I ring the bell for your car- riage, my dear? said the husband. If ( 7i ) If you please. You go with me mf dear? said the wife. I do not know where you are going, my love. To Mrs. Nettleby's of course, and you? To Mrs. Granby's. The lightning flashed from Griselda's eyes, ere he had half pronounced the words. The lightning flashed without effect. To Mrs. Granby's! cried she, in a thundering tone. To Mrs. Granby's! echoed hei she fell back on the sofa, and a shower of tears ensued. Her husband walked up and down the foom, rang again for the carriage, or- dered it, in the tone of a master. Then hummed a tune. The fair one sobbed. ( 76 ) sobbed, he continued to sing, but was out in the time. The lady's sobs grew alarming, and threatened hysterics. He threw open the window, and ap- proached the sofa on which she lay. She half recovering, unclasped one bracelet J in haste to get the other off,, he broke it. The footman came in to announce that the carriage was at the door. She relapsed, and seemed in danger of suffocation from her peatl necklace, which she made a faint effort to loosen' from her neck. Send your lady's woman, instantly, cried Gribelda's husband, to the foot- man. Our heroine made another attempt to untie her necklace, and looked up towards her husband with supplicating eve^. ( 77 ) «yes. His hands trembled, he en- tangled the strings. It would have been all over with him if the maid had not at this instant come to his assistance. To her he resigned his perilous postj retreated precipitately; and before the enemy's forces could rally, gained his carriage, and carried his point. To Mr. Granby's! cried he, trium- phantly. Arrived there, he hurried to Mr. Granby's room. Another such victory, cried he, throw- ing himself into an arm-chair ^ another such victory, and I am undone. He related all that had just passed between him and his wife. Another such combat, said his friend, «nd you are at peace for life. We ( 78 ) We hope that our readers will noty from this speech, be induced to con- sider Mr. Granby as an instigator of quarrels between man and wife -, or, according to the plebeian, but expres- sive apophthegm, one who would come between the bark and the tree. On the contrary, he was most desirous to secure his friend's domestic happiness; and, if possible, to prevent the bad effects which were likely to ensue from excessive in- dulgence, and inordinate love of domi- nion. He had a high respect for our heroine's powers, and thought that they wanted only to be well managed. The same force which, ill directed, bursts the engine, and scatters destruction, obedient to the master-hand, answers a thousand useful purposes, and works with ( 79 ) tvlth easy, smooth, and graceful regu- larity. Griselda's husband, or, as he now deserves to have his name men- tioned, Mr. Bolingbroke, roused by his friend's representations, and perhaps by a sense of approaching danger, re- solved to assume the guidance of his wife, or at least of himself. In oppo- sition to his sovereign lady's will, he actually spentthis evening as he pleased. CMAF. ( so ) CHAP. VI. " E sol quei giorni io mi \^*idi contenla. " C'haverla compiaciuto mi trovai." i ou are a great deal more courageous than I am, my dear, said Emma to her husband, after Mr. Bolingbroke had left them. I should be very much afraid of interfering between your friend and his wife. What is friendship, said Mr. Granby, if it will run no risks ? I must run the hazard of being called a mischief-maker. That is not the danger of which I was thinking, said Emma ; though I confess that I should be weak enough t« ( 81 ) to fear that a little : but what I meant to express was an apprehension of our doing harm, where we most wish to do good. Do you, my dear Emma, think Gri- selda incorrigible ? No, indeed, cried Emma, with anxious emphasis, far from it : but, without thinking a person incorrigible, may we not dislike the idea of inflicting cor- rection ? I should be very sorry to be the means of giving Griselda any pain ; she was my friend when we were chil- dren ; I have a real regard for her, and if she does not now seem disposed to love me, that must be my fault, not hers: or if it is not my fault, call it my misfortune. At all events, Ihave no , G right ( 62 ) right to force myself upon her ac- quaintance. She prefers Mrs. Nettleby ; I have not the false humility to say, *hat I think Mrs. Nettleby will prove as safe or as good a friend as I hope I should be. But of this Mrs. Boling- broke has a right to judge. And I am sure, far from resenting her resolution to avoid my acquaintance, my only feeling about it, at this instant, is, the -dread that it should continue to be a matter of dispute between her and her husband. If Mr. Boiingbroke insisted, or if I advised him to insist upon his wife's coming here, when she does not like ir, said Mr. Granby, I should act absurdly, and he would act unjustly 3 bat all that he requires is equality of rights, and the { fi3 ) the liberty of going where he pleases. She refuses to come to see you ; lie re- fuses to go to sec Mr. John Nettleby. Which has the best of the battle ? Emma thought it would be best if there were no battle, and observed, that refusals, and reprisals would only irri- tate the parties whose interest and hap- piness it was to be pacified and to agree. She said, that if Mr. Bolingbroke, in- stead of opposing his will to that of his wife, which, in fact, was only conquerin"- force by force, would speak reasonably to her, probably she might be induced to yield, or to conimand her temper. Mrs. Granby suggested, that a com- promise, founded on an offer of mutual sacrifice, and mutual compliance, might .be obtained. That Mr. Bolingbroke G 2 mifrht ( 84 ) might promise to give up some of his time to the man he disliiced, upon con- dition that Griselda should submit to the society of a woman to whom she had an aversion. If she consented to this, said Emma, I would do my best to make her like me j or at least to make her time pass agreeably at our house : her liking me is a matter of no manner of consequence. Emma was capable of putting herself entirely out of the question, when the interest of others was at stake ; her whole desire was to conciliate, and all her thoughts were intent upon making her friends happy. She seemed to liv» in them more than in herself, and from sympathy arose the greatest pleasure and pain of her existence. Her sym- pathy ( 85 ) pathy was not of that useless kind, ■which is called forth only by the elegant fictitious sorrows of a heroine of romance ; her's was ready for all the occasions of real life ; nor was it to be easily checked by the imperfections of those to whom she could be of service. At this moment, when she perceived that her husband was disgusted by Gri- selda's caprice, she said all she could think of in her favour : she recollected every anecdote of Griselda's childhood, which showed an amiable disposition ; and argued, that it was not probable her temper should have entirely changed in a few years. Emma's quick-sighted good nature could discern the least por- tion of merit, where others could find only faults ; as certain experienced eyes c 3 can ( «6 ) can discover grains of gold in the sands, which the ignorant have searched, and "abandoned as useless. In consequence of Emma's advice, for who would reject 'good advice, offered with so much gentleness, Mr. Granby wrote a note to Mr. Bolingbroke, to recommend the ■compromise which she had suggested. Upon his return home, Mr. Bolingbroke was informed that his lady had gone to bed much indisposed j he spent a rest- less night, notwithstanding all his newly •acquired magnaninuty. He was much relieved in the morning by his friend's note, and blessed Emma for proposing the compromise. CHAP. ( 8T ) CHAP. VIT. '* Each widow to her secret friend aloft«, >" Whispered ; Thus treated, lie had had his " own." jy|.R. BoLiNGBROKE Waited with im- patience for GrisCida's appearance the next morning, but he waited in vain-: the lady breakfasted in her own apart- ment, and for two hours afterward? remained in close consultation with Mrs. Nettleby, whom she had sum- moned the preceding night by the fol' lowing note. " 1 have been prevented from spend- ing this evening with you my dearest « 4- Mrs. ( 88 ) Mrs. Nettleby, by the strangest conduct imaginable : I ani sure you will not believe it when I tell it to you. Come to me, I conjure you, as early to morrow as you possibly can, that I may explain to you all that has past, and consult as to the future. My dearest friend, I never was so much in want of an ad- viser." Ever yours, Griselda." At this consultation Mrs. Nettleby expressed the utmost astonii^hment at Mr. Bolingbroke's strange conduct, and assured Griselda, that if she did not exert herself all was lost, and she must give up the hopes of ever having her ewn way again as long as she lived. My dear, said she, \ have had some experience in these things ; a wife must be ( 89 ) be either a tyrant or a slave : Make your choice ; now is your time. But I never knew him say or do any thing unkind before, said Griselda. Then the first offence should be pro- perly resented. If he finds you for- giving, he v/ill become encroaching; 'tis the nature of man, depend upon it. He always yielded to me till now, said Griselda; but even when I was ready to go into fits, he left me ; and what could I do then ? You astonish me beyond expression ! You who have every advantage ! youth, wit, accomplishments, beauty ! My dear, if you cannot keep a husband's heart, who can ever hope to succeed ? Oh ! as to his heart, I have no doubts of his heart, to do him justice, said Griselda j ( ^0 ) Griselda ; I know he loves me — ^pas- sionately loves me. And yet you cannot manage him ! And you expect me to pity you ? Bless me, if I had half your advantages, what I would make of them 1 But if you like to be a tame wife, my dear,if you are resolved upon it, tell me so at once, and I will hold my tongue, I do not know well what I am re- solved upon, said Griselda, leaning her head in a melancholy posture upon her hand ; I am vexed, out of spirits, and out of sorts. Out of sorts ! I am not surprised at that: but out of spirits ! My dear crea- ture, you who have e/ery thing to put you in spirits. I am never so much mTjself, ( 91 ) myself^ as when I have a quarrel to •fight out. I cannot say that is the case with me, unless where I am sure of the victory. And it is your own fault, if you are not always sure of it. I thought so till last night ; but I as- sure you last night he showed such a spirit ! Break that spirit, my dear, break it, or else it will break your heart. The alternative is terrible, said Gri- selda, and more probable perhaps than you could imagine, or I either till now : for would you believe it, I never loved him in my life half so well as 1 did last night in the midst of my anger, and when he was doing every thing to pro- voke me. Very ( P2 ) Very natural my dear; because you saw him behave with spirit, and you love spirit ; so does every woman ; so does every body : show him that you have spirit too, and he will be as angry as you were, and love you as well in the midst of his anger, whilst you are doing every thing to provoke him. Griselda appeared determined to take this good advice one moment, and ths next hesitated. But my dear Mrs. Nettleby, did you always find this succeed yourself? Yes, always. This lady had the reputation indeed of having broken the heart of her first husband; how she would manage her second, was yet to be seen, as her ho»ey-moon was but just over. The pure ( ^J3 ) pure love of mischief was not her only motive in the advice which she gave to our heroine; she had like most people, jnixed motives for her conduct. She disliked Mr. Bolingbroke, because he disliked her; yet she wished that an acquaintance should be kept up be- tween him and her husband, because Mr. Bolingbroke was a man of fortune and fashion. Griselda promised that she would behave with that proper spirit, which was to make her at once amiable and victorious, and the friends parted. CHAP. { 9^* ) CHAP. VIIL " With patient, meek, Eubmisslve mind, " To her hard fate resigned." Potter's ^schylus Left to her own good genius, Gri- selda reflected that novelty has the most powerful effect upon the heart of tnan. In all the variations of her hu- mour, her husband had never yet seen her in the sullen mood ; and in this, she now sat prepared to receive him. He came with an earnest desire to speak to her in the kindest and most reason- able manner. He began by saying, how much it had cost him to give her one ( ^5 ) •ne moment's uneasiness ; h^s voice, his look, were those of truth and love. Unmoved Griselda, without raising her leaden eyes, answered in a cold voice, I am very sorry that you should have felt any concern upon my account. Any ! my love, you do not know how much I have felt this night. She looked upon him with civil dis- belief ; and replied, " that she was sure she ought to be much obliged to him." This frigid politeness repressed his affection : he was silent for some jnoments. My dear Griselda, said he, this is not the way in which we should live together ; we who have every thing •that can make us contented, do not let cs ( 96 ) us throw away our happiness for trifles not worth thinking of. If we are not happy, it is not my fault, said Griselda. We will not inquire whose foult it is, my dear, let the blame rest upon me j let the past be forgotten-s let us look towards the future. In future, let us avoid childish altercations, and live like reasonable creatures. I have the highest opinion of your sex in genera], and of you in particular; I wish to live with my wife as my equal, my friend : 1 do not desire that my will should govern; where our inclinations difTer, let reason decide between us j or where it is a matter not worth reasoning about, let us alternately yield to one another. He paused, I do ( 97 ) I do not desire or expect that you ^should ever henceforward yield to my ivishes, either in trifles or in matters of ■consequence, replied Griselda, with provoking meekness ; you have taught •me my duty : the duty of a wife is to submit ; and submit I hope I shall in future, without reply or reasoning, to your sovereign will and pleasure. Nay, my dear, said he, do not treat me as a brutal tyrant, when I wish to do every thing in my power to make you happy. Use your own excellent •understanding, and I shall always I hope be inclined to yield to your reasons. I shall never trouble you with my Teasons j I shall never use my ov/n un- jderstanding in the least : I know that u *nen '( 53 ) men cannot bear understanding m women ; I shall always, as it is my duty^ submit to your better judgment. But my love, I do not require duty from you ; this sort of blind submission would be mortifying, instead of gratify- ing to me from a wife. I do not know what a wife can do to satisfy a husband, if submitting in every thing be not sufficient. I say it would be too much for me my dearest love ! I can do nothing but submit, re- peated the pervei?^e Griselda, Vvith a most provoking immovable aspect of humility. Why will you not understand me my dear? cried her husband. It is not myfau'tif I cr.nnot i.indcr- stand ( 99 ) Stand you my dear ; I do not pretend to have your understanding said the fair politician, affecting weakness to gain her point j like those artful candi- dates for papal dominion, who used to affect decrepitude and imbecillity, till they secured at once absolute power and infallibility. I know my abilities are quite infe- rior to yours, my dear, said Griselda, but I thought it was sufficient for a woman to know how to obey : I can do no more. Fretted beyond his patience, her husband walked up and down the room greatly agitated, whilst she sat content and secure in tranquil obstinacy. - You are enough to provoke the pa« ja 3 tienc« ( 100 ) tience of Job, my dear, cried her "hus- band ; you'll break my heart. I am sorry for it, my dear ; but if you will only tell me what I can do more to please you I will do it. Then my love, cried he, taking hold of her white hand, which hung in a lifeless attitude over the arm of the couch ; be happy I conjure you ! all I ask of you, is, to be happy. That is out of my power, said she, mildly, suffering her husband to keep her hand, as if it was an act of duty to submit to his caresses. He resigned her hand ; her countenance never varied j if she had been slave to the most despotic Sultan of the East, she could not have shown more heartless submission, than she displayed to this mo$t ( 101 ) most indulgent European *' husband Jover." Unable to command his temper, or to conceal how much he was hurt, he rose and said, I will leave you for the present, my dear; some time when you are better disposed to converse with me, I will return. Whenever you please sir ; all times are alike to me : whenever you are at leisure, 1 can have no choice. H 3 CHAP. { 102 ) CHAP. IX. And acting duty all the merit lose." Some hours afterwards, hoping to find his sultana in a better humour, Mr. Bolingbroke returned ; but no sooner did he approach the sofa on which she was still seated, than she again seemed to turn into stone, like the Princess Rhezzia, in the Persian Tales j who was blooming and charming, except when her husband entered the room. The unfortunate Princess Rhezzia loved her husband tenderly, but was doomed to this fate by a vile enchanter. If she was more to be pitied for being subject to ( 103 ) to involuntary metamorphosis, our he» roine is surely more to be admired, for the constancy with which she endured a self-inflicted penance ; a penance cal- culated to render her odious in the eyes of a husband by whom she was pas- sionately beloved. My dear, said this most patient of men, I am sorry to renew any ideas that will be disagreeable to you j I will mention the subject but once more, and then let it be forgotten for ever. Our foolish dispute about Mr. Nettleby. L,etus compromise the matter. I will bear Mr. John Nettleby for your sake, if you will bear Mrs. Granby for mine. I will go to see Mr. Nettleby to-morrow, if you will come the day afterwards with Hie to Mr. Granby's. Where hus» H 4 band ( l©i ) band and wife do not agree in thefi^ wishes, it is reasonable that each should yield a little of their will to the other, I hope this compromise will satisfy you, my dear. It does not become a wife to enter into any compromise with her husband ; she has nothing to do but to obey, as soon as he signifies his pleasure. I shall go to Mr. Granby's on Tuesday,, as you command. Command ! my love. As you— — -whatever you please to eall it. But are you satisfied v/ith this arrange- ment, my dear .? It is of no manner of consequence whether I am or not. To me,youknovv,it is of the greatest : you ( 105 ) you must be sensible; that my sincere wisii is to make you happy : I give you some proof of it by consenting to keep up an acquaintance with a man whose company I dislike. I am much obliged to you, my dear, but as to your going to see Mr. John Nettleby, it is a matter of perfect indif- ference to me ; I only just mentioned it, as a thing of course ; I beg you will not do it on my account : I hope you will do whatever you think best, and what pleases yourself, upon this and every other occasion, I shall never more .presume to offer my advice. Nothing more could be obtained from^ the submissive wife ; she went to Mr. Granby's; she was all duty, for she knew thcbhow of it was the most pro- voking ( m ) voking thing upon earth to a husband, at least to such a husband as hers. She therefore persisted in this line of con- duct, till she made her victim at last exclaim, " I love thee and hate thee, but if I can tell *' The cause of my love and my hate^ may I die. " I can feel it, alas ! I can feel it too v\^ell, *' That I love thee and hate thee, but cannot " tell why." His fair one was much flattered by this confession ; she triumphed in hav- ing excited " this contrariety of feel- ings ;" nor did she foresee the possibility of her husband's recollecting that stanza which the school-boy, more philosophi- cal than the poet, applies to his tyrant. Whilst our heroine was thus acting to perfection- ( 107 ) perfection the part of a dutiful wife, Mrs. Nettleby was seconding her to the best of her abilities, and announcing •her amongst all their acquaintance, in the interesting character of — "a woman that is very much to be pitied." " Poor Mrs, Bolingbroke ! — Don't you think. Ma'am, she is very much changed since her marriage ? — Quite fallen away 1 — And all her fine spirits, what are become of them ? — It really grieves my heart to see her. — O, she is a very unhappy woman ; really to be pitied, if you knew but all." Then a significant nod, or a melan- choly mysterious look, set the imagi- nation of the company at work i or if this did not succeed, a whisper in plain terms, pronounced Mr. Bolingbroke— ** a sad ( 108 ) " a sad sort of husband, a very odd tempered man, and, in short, a terrible tyrant ; though nobody would guess it, who only saw him in company -, but men are such deceivers !" Mr. Bolingbroke soon found that all his wishes were thwarted, and all his- hopes of happiness crossed, by the straws which this evil-minded dame con- trived to throw in his way. Her in- fluence over his wife he saw increased every hour : though they visited each other every day, these ladies could never meet without having some important secrets to impart, and conjurations were to be performed in private, at which a husband could not be permitted to assist. Then notes without number were to pass continually, and these were to ( 109 ) Tse thrown hastiJy into the fire, at the approach of the enemy. Mr. Boling- broke determined to break this league, which seemed to be more a league of hatred than of amity. The London ■winter was novv^ over, and, taking ad- vantage of the continuance of his wife*s perverse fit of duty and unqualified •submission, he one day requested her ito accompany him into the country, to spend a few weeks with his friend Mn Granby, at his charming place in Devonshire. The part of a wife was to obey, and Griselda was bound to sup- port her character. She resolved, how- ever, to make her obedience cost her Jord as dear as possible, and she pro- mised himself that thisparty of pleasure should become a party of pain. She and ( 110 ) and her lord were to travel in the Same carriage with Mr. and Mrs. Granby, Griselda had only time, before she set off, to write a hasty billet to Mrs. Nettleby, to inform her of these inten- tions, and to bid her adieu, till better times. Mrs. Nettleby sincerely regretted this interruption of their hourly cor- respondence ; for she was deprived not only of the pleasure of hearing, but of making matrimonial complaints. She had now been married two months, and her fool began to grow restive ; no animal on earth is more restive than a fool : but confident that Mrs. Nettleby will hold the bridle with a strong hand,, we leave her to pull against his hard mouth,. CHAP. ( 111 ) CHAP. X. "*'PIa^'zir ne I'est qu'autant qu'on le partage,' >V £ pass over the infinite variety of petty torments, which our heroine con- trived to inflict upon her fellow-travel- lers, during her journey down to Devon- shire. Inns, food, beds, carriage, horses^ baggage, roads, prospect, hill, dale, sun, wind, dust, rain, earth, air, fire, and water, all aflforded her matter of com- plaints It was astonishing that Emma met with none of these inconveniences ; but as fast as they were discovered, she amused herself in trying to obviate them. /Lord ( 112 ) Lord Kames has observed, that a power to recal at will pleasing objects, would be a more valuable gift to anj mortal than ever was bestowed in a fairy tale. With this power Emma was endowed, in the highest perfection; and as fast as our heroine recollected some evil that had happened, or was likely to happen, Emma raised the op- posite idea of some good, past, present, or future ; so that it was scarcely pos- sible even for the spirit of contradic- tion personified, to resist the magic of her good humour. No sooner did she arrive at her own house, than she con- trived a variety of ways of showing at- tention and kindness to her guest ; and when all this Vv'as received vi^ith sullen indifference, or merely as tributes due to I lis ) 'to superiority, Emma was not discou* raged in her benevolence, but, instead of being offended, seemed to pity her friend for **■ having had her temper so unhappily spoiled.'* " Griselda is so handsome," said Airs. Granby one day, in her defence, '" she has such talents, she has been so much admired, worshipped, and in- dulged, that it would be wonderful if ; she were not a little spoiled. I dare say, that if I had been in her place, my brain would never have stood the intoxication. Who can measure their strength, or their weakness, till thejr are tried? Another thing should be considered ; Griselda excites envy, and though she may not have more faults than her neighbours, they are more I noticed. ( 114 ) noticed, because they are in the full light of prosperity. What a number of motes swarm in a single ray of light, coming through the shutter of a dark- ened room ? there are not more motes in that spot than in any other part of the room, but the sun-beams show them more distinctly. The dust that lives in snug obscurity should consider this, and have mercy upon its fellow dust." In Emma's kindness there was none of the parade of goodness, she seemed to follow her natural disposition, and as Griselda once said of her, to be good^ because she could not help it. She re- quired neither praise nor thanks for any thing that she did ; and, provided her friends were happy, she was satisfied, without ( 115 ) without ever wishing to be admired, as the cause of that happiness. Her powers of pleasing were chiefly remarkable for lasting longer than others, and the se- cret of their permanence was not easily guessed, because it was so simple. It depended merely on the equability of her humour. It is said, that there is nothing marvellous in the colours of those Egyptian monuments which have been the admiration of ages ;. the se- cret of their duration is supposed to depend simply on the fineness of the climate and invariability of the tem- perature. But •' Griselda will adnalt no wandering muse.** Mrs. Bolingbroke was by this time tired of continuing in one mood, even 1 2 though ( 116 ) though it v/as the sullen, and her ^o nius was cramped by the constraint of affected submission. She recovered her charming spirits soon after she came Into the country, and, for a short time, no mortal mixture of earth's mould could be more agreeable. She called forth every charm ; she was all gaiety, wit, and smiles ; she poured light and life upon conversation. As the Marquis de Chastellux said of some fascinating fair one, — " She had no expression without grace, and no grace without expression." It w^s delightful to our heroine to hear it said, " How charming Mrs. Bolingbroke can be when she pleases j when she wishes to captivate, how irresistible ! — Who ( 11'^ ) Who can equal Mrs. Bolingbroke, when she is in one o^ her good dai/s P'* The triumph of eclipsing Mrs.Gran- by would have been delightful, but that Emma seemed to feel no mortifi- cation from being thrown into the shade ; she seemed to enjoy her friend's success so sincerely, that it was im- possible to consider her as a rival. She had so carefully avoided noticing any. little disagreement or coolness between Mr. and Mrs. Bolingbroke, that it might have been doubted whether she attended to their mutual conduct ; but the obvious delight she took in seeing them again on good terms with each other, proved that she was not de-- iicient in penetration. She appeared to see only what others desired that she I 3 should. ( 118 ) should see, upon these delicate occa- sions, where voluntary blindness is not artifice, but prudence. Mr. Boling- broke was now enchanted with Gri- selda, and ready to exclaim every in- stant, " Be ever thus !" Her husband thought he had found a mine of happiness ; he began to breathe, and to bless his kind stars. He had indeed lighted unexpectedly upon a rich vein, but it was soon ex- hausted, and all his further progress was impeded, by certain vapours, dan- gerous to approach. Fatal sweets ! "which lure the ignorant to destruction, but from which the more experienced fly with precipitation.' Our heroine was now fully prepared to kill her hus- band with kindness 3 she was afraid if he ( 119 ) be rode, that his horse would throw him ; if he walked, that he would tire himself; if he sat still, that he must want exercise ; if lie went out, tha*- he would catch cold ; if he stayed at home, that he was kept a prisoner ! if he did not eat, rhat he Was sick ; if he did eat, that he would be sick; — ^&c. &c.&c.&c. There was no end to these fond fears ; he felt that there was something ridi- culous in submitting to them; and yet to resist in the least, was deemed the height of unkindness and ingratitude. One night she fell into a fit of rnelan- choly, upon his laughing at her fears, that he should kill himself, by standing for an instant at an open window, on a fine night, to look at a beautiful rising moon. When he endeavoured to rc- I 4 cover ( 320 ) cover her from "her melancholy, it was suddenly converted into anger, and, after tears, came a storm of reproaches. H^r husband, in consideration of the kindness of her original intention, passed over her anger, and even for some days refrained from objecting to any regimen she prescribed for his. health and happiness. But his forbear- ance failed him at length, and he pre- sumed to eat some salad, which his - wife" knev/ would disagree with him." She was provoked afterwards, because she could not make him allow that it had made him ill. She termed this ex- treme obstinacy ; he pleaded that it v.7as simple truth. Truth, upon some occasions, is the most offensive thing that can be spoken 3 tlie lady was en- ■''^'- raged, ( "121 ) raged, and, after saying every thing provoking, that matrimonial spleen could suggest, when he in his turn grew warm, she cooled, and said, " You must be sensible, my dear, that all L say and do, arises from affection.'* O, my love, said he, recovering his^ good humour, this never-failing opiate soothes my vanity, and lulls my anger j then you may govern me as you please. Torment me to death, — I cannot op- pose you. I suppose, said she, you think me like the vampire-bat, who fans her vic- tim to sleep with her wrngs, whilst she sucks his life blood. , Yes, exactly, said he, smiling ; thank. j^ou for the apt allusion. \-^try apt indeed, said she, and a thick- ( 122 ) thick gloom overspread her counte? nance. She persisted in taking his as- sent in sober earnest. *' Yes," said she, " I find you think all my kindness is treacherous. I will show you no more, and then you cannot accuse me of treachery," It was in vain that he protested he had been only in jest j she was con- vinced that he was in earnest j she was suddenly afflicted with an absolute in- capacity of distinguishing jest from earnest. She recurred to the idea of the vampire-bat, whenever it was con- venient to her to suppose that her hus- band thought strange things of her, which never entered his brain. This bat proved to him a bird of ill omen, which preceded a train of misfortunes, that 4 ( 123 ) that no mortal foresight could reach, and no human prudence avert. His Gpddess was not to be appeased by any propitiatory or expiatory sacrifice. CHAP. ( 124 ) CHAP. XI. "Short is the period of insulting power, " Offended Cupid finds his vengeful hour.^ JpiNDiNG it impossible to regain bis fair one's favour, Mr. Bolingbroke ab- sented himself from her presence. He amused himself for some days with his friend Mr. Granby, in attending to a plantation, which he was laying out in his grounds. Griselda was vexed to perceive that her husband could find any amusement independent of her j. and she never failed, upon his return, to mark her displeasure. One morning the gentlemen had been so much occupied with their plan- tation,. ( 125 ^) tatlon, that they did not attend the breakfast-table precisely in due time; the contrast in the looks of the two ladies when their husbands entered the room was striking. Griselda was pro- voked with Mrs. Granby for being so good humoured. Lore' bless me ! Mrs. Granby, how you spoil these men, cried she. All the time the gentlemen were at breakfast, Mrs. Bolingbroke played with her tea-spoon, and did not deign :to utter a syllable : Emma, on the con- 'trary, inquired how their plantation 'Was going on, and interested herself in •the most unaffected and ajrreeable .manner, in the object upon which their '.minds happened to be intent. No one Vmore than Emma, had the habit of in- teresting ( 126 ) teresting herself in all the daily occupa- tions, and little objects of her friends. These minute attentions frequently re- curring, tend materially to increase affection, and secure domestic happi- ness. By such slender, and scarcely perceptible fibres, is society felted to- gether. When the gentlemen left the break- fast-table, and returned to their busi- ness ; Griselda, who was as our readers may have observed, one of the fashion- able lollers by profession ; established herself upon a couch, and began an attack upon Emma, for spoiling her husband in such a sad manner. Emma defended herself in a playful way, by answering that she could not venture to give unnecessary pain, because she was ( 127 ) was not so sure as some of her friends might be, of their power of giving plea- sure. ISIrs. Bolingbroke proceeded to descant upon the difference between friendship and love: with soriie vanity, and some malice, she touched upon the difference between the so7'fs of senti' mentSi which diiFerent women excited. Passion, she argued, could be kept alive, only by a certain happy mixture of caprice and grace, coldness and ill- humour. She confessed, that for her part, she never could be content with the friendship of a husband. Emma, without claiming or disclaiming her pre- tensions to love, quoted the saying of a French gentleman : " L'Amiiie est L'Amour sans ailes*." * Friepdship i« Love deprived of iiis wings. Griseldi ( 128 -) Griselda had no apprehension that love could ever fly from her, and she declared she could not endure him without his wings. Our heroine did not imagine, that any of the little vexations, which she habitually inflicted upon her husband, > could really diminish his regard. She -Clever had calculated the prodigious effects which can be produced by petty causes constantly acting. Indeed this is a consideration, to which the pride or short-sightedness of human nature is not prone. Who in contemplating one of Ra- phael's finest pictures, fresh from the master's hand, ever bestowed a thought upon the wretched little worm, which works its destruction? Who that be- liold-s ( 12^ ) ItoIcIs the gilded vessel, gliding in gal- lant trim ; " youth at the prow, and pleasure at the helm ;" ever at that instant thought of barnacles ? The imagination is disgusted by the anti- climax, and of all species of the bathos, the sinking from visionary happiness to sober reality, is that from which human nature is most averse. The wings of the imagination accustomed to ascend, resist the downward flight. Confident of her charms, heedless of danger, habituated to think her empire absolute and eternal ; our heroine to amuse herself, and to display her power to Emma, persisted in her practice of tormenting. The ingenuity with which .she varied her tortures, was certainly admirable. After exhausting old ones, K phe ( 130 ) she invented new ; and when the new lost their efficacy, she recurred to the old. She had often observed, that the blunt method of contradicting, which- some bosom friends practice in conver- sation, is of sovereign power to provoke ; and this consequently, though unpolite,., she disdained not to imitate. It had the greater effect, as it was in diame- trical opposition to the style of Mrs, Granby's conversation j who. in discus- sions with her husband, or her. intimate friends, was peculiarly and habitually attentive to politeness. She gave her opinions always freely, but with con-- stant deference or charity for the senti- ments of her friends. Arguments, as she managed them, never degenerated into ( 131 ) into disputes ; and the true end of con- versation, that of giving and receiving pleasure, was never sacrificed to the vanity of saying good things, or to the pride of victory.. CI TAP: ( 132 ) CHAP. XII. " Ella biasmandol sempre, e dispregiando " Se g!i venia piu serapre inimicando." By Ther judicious and kind interposi- tion, Emma often prevented the disa- greeable consequences, that threatened to ensue from Griselda's disputatious habits : but one night it was past her utmost skill to avert a violent storm, which arose about the pronunciation of a word. It began about eleven o'clock. Just as the family were sit- ting down to supper, seemingly in per- fect harmony of spirits ^ Mr. Boling- broke chanced to say, I think ( 133 ) I think the wind is rising. (He pro- nounced the word inndy short.) Wind! my dear, cried his wife,. echoing his pronunciation 5 do for Hea- ven's sake call it wind^ The lady sounded this w©rd long. Wind! my love, repeated he* after her : I doubt whether that be the right pronunciation. I am surprised you can doubt it, said she, for I never heard any body call it xdind but yourself. Did not you, my love, that is very extraordinary ; many people I believe call it xand. Vulgarians, perhaps ! Vulgarians! No indeed, my dear; very polite well informed people. K 3 Griselda, ( 134 ) Griselda, with a look of unutterable contempt, reiterated the word polite ! Yes, my dear, polite ! persisted Mr. Bolingbroke, who was now come to such a pass, that he would defend his opinion in opposition to hers_, stoutly and warmly. Yes, polite my dear, I maintain it; the most polite people pronounce it as 1 do. You may maintain what you pleas^ my dear, said the lady, coolly ; but I maintain the contrary. Assertion is no proof on either side I acknowledge, said Mr. Bolingbroke, recollecting himself. No, in truth, said Mrs. Bolingbroke, -especially such an absurd assertion as yours, my dear> Now I will go no farther than Mrs. Granby: Mrs, Gran- bv. ( 135 > hy^ did you ever hear any person, who knew how to speak, pronounce wind — tmnd ^ Mrs. Granby, have not you heard it called tvmd in good company ? The disputants eagerly approached her, at the same instant, and looked as if their fortunes or lives depended upon the decision. I think I have heard the word pro- nounced both ways, by wellbred and wqM informed people, said jN.Ir.„Granby. That is saying nothing, my dear, said Mrs. Bohngbroke, pettishly. That is saying all I want, said Mr. Bolingbroke, satisfifd. I would lay any wager, however, that Mr.********, if he were here, weuld give it in my favour j and I sup- K 4 jpos^ ( 136 ) pose you will not dispute his autho- rity. I will not dispute the authority of Sheridan's dictionary, cried Mr, Boling- broke, taking it down from the book- case, and turning over the leaves has- tily. Sheridan gives it for me, my dear, said he, with exultation. You need not speak with such tri- umph, my dear, for I do not submit ta Sheridan. No ! Will you submit to Kenrick then ? Let us see what he says, and I will" then tell you? said the lady. No — Kenrick was not of her opinion, and he was no authority. Walker was pro- duced ; and this battle of the pro- Bouncing dictionaries, seemed likely ta have: ( 137 ) have no end. Mrs. Granby when she could be heard, remarked that it was difficult to settle any dispute about pronunciation, because in fact no rea- sons could be produced, and no stand- ard appealed to but custom, which is perpetually changing j and as Johnson says, " whilst our language is variable with the caprice of all who use it, words can no more be ascertained in a dic- tionary, than a grove in the agitation of a storm, can be accurately deline- ated from its picture in the water.'*" The combatants would scarcely al- Ibvv Emma time to finish this allusion, and certainly did not give themselves, time to understan-d it ; but continued to fight about the word custom, the- . Belinda, 3 vols. 13s. 6d. boards. 10. Essay on Irish Bulls, 5s. 1 1 . Popular Tales, 3 vols. Second Edition, Price 12s. bds. 12 Letter to Lord Chnrlemont; with Characters of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, Is. Gd. 13. Speeches on the Union, delivered in the Irish Parliament, Is. 14. The Modern Grisclda. :///^ \A AA A.-s-N AA A A/\y\/\/', ■ ^ • -^ -, -^ - ^ ^ ■ A AAA, - ■ ■ ■ . ■ '■ x A \ /\ ^ ^ ■ x'VV\/ , ^^ ^ . \ ■■ \ \A.\A \ \ \ \A,/\,/SA/\y\ , , N N.XAAAA A/S ■• - V \ \ \ \ \ \ \/\,\,\ ' VA \ \ \ V'anAAA \ A \ \ \ \ \ N > -^ v ^ \ \ \ % \ ^ V \ \ N '■■^ \ \ \ \ \ ■- \ \ \ \ ^ ^ ■, \ \ \ \ ^ ^ • ^ ■ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ . \ \ \ \ A V \ \ \ -^ , -^ N \ \ \ S \ \ \ \ . V • \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ ■ ^, '■ \ \ ■■, ^ \ \ \ ^ ., X ■ \ ■ ^' - V \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ ■ \ •• • . V V ■.. ■ "s \ \ N \ A \ \ \ \ ., \ , \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ ■• ■ \ \ N \ ■-. -, ^ N \ \ \ S N \ \ \ \ \ \ \ -. ■■ ■ \ \ \ \ \ \, ' ■ \ \ N \ '^ ^ N , \ \ \ \ N ^ : . , , N 'v \ \ \ \ ' '■ \ \ '' N ■■ "^ \ \ ^ \ \ \ ^^ ' \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ ^ \ ■■■. X \ \ \ \ V. \ \ \ \ N \ \ \ \ V \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ ^ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ ■• ^^ \ \ \ An \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ N , \ \ \ \ N \ \ \ \ ^, \ x '^ - \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ ^ \ \ \ \ A\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ N \ \ \ \ ■ ■, \ \ \ ., \ \ \ \ \ ■ \ \ \ \ • \ \ \ \ N \ \ \ \ \ '■^. A-, \ \ \ ^ ■,, X . ^., , - \ \ N \ , \ . X \ ■ X ■. \\ '^ ^ • '^ \ N N \ - \ \ 'V ^ ^ \ \ \ \ \ N. ' ^ ., s \ \ \ \ \ \ \ ^ \ \ \ \ \ \