Part 10 (1/2)

'I aspire to no higher title than that of theworthy of your esteem and confidence shall afford me a motive for improvement I will learn of you moderation, equanimity, and self-command, and you will, perhaps, continue to afford e and truth

'I have laid down ain, and still taken it up to add so more, from an anxiety, lest even you, of whose delicacy I have experienced repeated proofs, should misconstrue me--”Oh! what a world is this!--into what false habits has it fallen! Can hypocrisy be virtue? Can a desire to call forth all the best affections of the heart, befor expression?”[6]

But I will banish these apprehensions; I am convinced they are injurious

'Yes!--I repeat it--I relinquish my pen with reluctance A melancholy satisfaction, froh my heart while I unfold to you its eenuous_; I desire, I call for, truth!

'EMMA'

[Footnote 6: Holcroft's Anna St Ives]

CHAPTER XXVI

I had not courage to make my friend a confident of the step I had taken; so wild, and so romantic, did it appear, even to myself--a false pride, a false shame, with-held me I brooded in silence over the sentiment, that preyed on the boso daith expectation, and every evening closed in disappointment I walked daily to the post-office, with precipitate steps and a throbbing heart, to enquire for letters, but in vain; and returned slow, dejected, spiritless _Hope_, one hour, animated my bosom and flushed my cheek; the next, pale despair shed its torpid influence through ave place to despondency, and I sunk into lassitude

My studies no longer affordeds, threw them aside; ht, with unconscious steps, the library, and, throwing myself on the sopha, with folded arustus, which had lately been replaced, and sunk into waking dreaazed on the lifeless features, engraven on my heart in colours yet nant s expression? Where the pleasant voice, whose accents had been melody in my ear; that had cheered me in sadness, dispelled the vapours of distrust and melancholy, and awakenedfro e now but the ghosts of departed pleasures--fled into the woods, and buriedht of my friend, whose dejected countenance but the s were, and wereone day over my papers, without any known end in view, I accidentally opened a letter from Mr Francis (hom I still continued, occasionally, to correspond), which I had recently received I eagerly seized, and re-perused, it My spirits eakened; the kindness which it expressed affected me--it touched my heart--it excited my tears I detere oodness

My hts; a gleah the thick mists that pervaded it; communication would relieve the burthen I took up h I dared not betray the fatal secret concealed, as a sacred treasure, in the bottoave a loose to, I endeavoured to paint, its sensations

After briefly sketching the events that had driven ed it necessary to infor myself to dwell on the services he had rendered me, I mentioned my present temporary residence at the house of a friend, and expressed an impatience at my solitary, inactive, situation

I went on--

'To what purpose should I trouble you with a thousand ard, contradictory, ideas and ele--which have, perhaps, floated in every uished by no originality, and which I ht to cultivatevariety to ht increase the number of my enjoyments: for _happiness_ is, surely, the only desirable _end_ of existence! But when I ask myself, Whether I am yet nearer to the end proposed?--I dare not deceive ative I daily perceive the gay and the frivolous, aratified by the insipid _routine_ of heartless, mindless, intercourse; fully occupied, alternately, by do external orna drapery on a sularly practise, the necessary avocations of my sex; neither am I superior to their vanities The habits acquired by early precept and example adhere tenaciously; and are never, perhaps, entirely eradicated But all these are insufficient to engross, to satisfy, the active, aspiring, mind Hemmed in on every side by the constitutions of society, and not less so, it nantly perceive, thehow to dissolve the powerful spell While men pursue interest, honor, pleasure, as accords with their several dispositions, worade thees, res, andany part in the great, though often absurd and tragical, drama of life Hence the eccentricities of conduct, hich woles, the despairing though generous struggles, of an ardent spirit, denied a scope for its exertions! The strong feelings, and strong energies, which properly directed, in a field sufficiently wide, ht they not have aided? forced back, and pent up, ravage and destroy the ave them birth!

'Yes, I confess, _I am unhappy_, unhappy in proportion as I believe ly) is, but it has added fervor to mine! What are passions, but another na the most forcible impressions is the sublimely improveable mind! Yet, into whatever trains such minds are accidentally directed, they are prone to enthusiasar stupidly wonder at the effects of powers, to them wholly inconceivable: the weak and the tied, are induced, by the first failure, to relinquish their pursuits ”They make the i, from repeated disappointment, derive only new ardor and activity ”They conquer difficulties, by daring to atte in a desultory manner, that I am unable to crowd my ideas into the compass of a letter, and, that could I do so, I should perhaps only weary you There are but few persons to whom I would venture to complain, feould understand, and still fewer sympathise withof life, have every thing supplied you without labour (so much the worse) nature, reason, open to you their treasures! All this is, partly, true--but, with inexpressible yearnings, her! Thecloses with disgust--Imperfection, uncertainty, is impressed on every object, on every pursuit! I am either restless or torpid, I seek to-day, what to-morroearies and offends me

'I entered life, flushed with hope--I have proceeded but a few steps, and the parterre of roses, viewed in distant prospect, nearer seen, proves a brake of thorns The feorthy persons I have known appear, towith the same half suppressed emotions--Whence is all this?

Why is intellect and virtue so far fro happiness?

Why is the active mind a prey to the incessant conflict between truth and error? Shall I look beyond the disorders which, _here_, appear to me so inexplicable?--shall I expect, shall I de to whom I owe my existence, in future unconceived periods, the _end_ of which I believe nis fatuus_, has hitherto served only to torture and betray? The anis of nature, and lies down to repose, undisturbed by care--has man superior powers, only to make him pre-eminently wretched?--wretched, it seeling my bewildered ideas--write to me--reprove me--spare me not!

'EMMA'

To this letter I quickly received a kind and consolatory reply, though not unled with the reproof I called for It afforded me but a temporary relief, and I once more sunk into inanity; rew feeble, and ination morbid

CHAPTER XXVII