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Blest is the maid, and worthy to be blest,
Whose soul entire by him she loves possest,
Feels ev'ry vanity in fondness lost,
And asks no pow'r but that of pleasing most:
Her's is the bliss in just return to prove
The honest warmth of undissembled love.
For her inconstant man might cease to range,
And gratitude forbid desire to change.
Lyttelton.
Marriage, in whatever point of view it may be considered, is one of the most interesting subjects to the human mind. It is a state to which every rational, civilized being, at one time or other, looks for happiness. Men, indeed, whose situation in society is more enlarged, whose occupations are more serious, and whose views are more divided, are consequently less attentive to, as they are less anxious respecting marriage, than the fairer sex, whose whole regards are directed to that object. It may be said to be their being's end and aim. Men are educated according to their various ranks and professions: they are instructed to maintain the one, or to pursue the other. Matrimony with them is a subsequent consideration, and is not unfrequently a mere accidental event, an absolute casualty. Women, on the contrary, are brought up with the sole view of being wives. They are taught from the dawn of reason to attain their qualifications, as they shape their views to become stationary in the conjugal character. But, though the marriage of a woman may arise from sudden and unexpected circumstances, an event to which her attention is ever directed, and for which she is habitually prepared, let it come when it will, cannot be strictly considered as a matter of accident to her.
The various duties that social man has to perform in the world; the scene of action in which he is called, according to his station, to appear; the artificial passions, if I may use the expression, which his career will necessarily incite, the enlargement of his sphere of life, and the comparative independence of his will, may frequently so engage his thoughts, fill up the measure of his gratifications, and satisfy, or at least encourage, his leading passion, that his dispositions to the sentiment of love may be weakened by their succession, and he may thus be so involved in his worldly projects, as not to be in an hurry to make matrimony one of them; while a young woman has no interests, enjoys no pleasures, and acquires no graces, but with a direct and decided view to the married state. Whatever she does, wherever she goes, with whomsoever she lives, the object that plays on her fancy, inspires her wishes, and to which she shapes the whole of her conduct, is marriage. This she considers as her natural station, in which she looks forward to be fixed, and regards her maiden character in no other light than as a state of preparation for it. It was once the condition of her mother, who instructs her in its course, and points out the most probable means of exchanging it, that she may become a mother in her turn, and repeat the lessons to her daughters. In one of our old comedies this notion is pleasantly, as well as naturally, displayed. A stiff, maiden aunt is represented as expressing herself in a tone of displeasure to her niece, a fine sprightly girl of sixteen, for some little playful irregularity; and, in the course of her angry reprehension, she asks her what she thinks she was made for; when miss answers, without the least hesitation or reserve, but with sighs and sobbings, that she was made to be married. There are many unmarried men, I believe, who have never read the form of solemnizing marriage, at least with interest or attention: but does the woman exist, whose marriage is to be produced by it, who can read, and has not read it? The answer to this question must meet, I am disposed to think, with an universal negative.
These observations, however, are not made with a design, in any degree, to disparage the sex, which are the grace, the delight, and the consolation of human existence--Heaven's last, best work; but merely to state the particular condition to which they are allotted, as the primary spring of social nature and domestic happiness.
I was let into this train of thought by the following letter, which I have received from a young lady on a subject that naturally suggested it. She appears to possess the advantages which are derived from family and fortune; and states her perplexities with a frankness and good humour, which will render the account she gives of herself interesting to many of my readers, and instructive to some of them. I shall, therefore, without any further introduction, present it to their attention: —
TO THE MODERN SPECTATOR.
As you invite communications, I shall make no apology for introducing myself in this manner to your acquaintance. That you are a man of understanding, is proved, to my judgment at least, by your introductory essay; while the character you have assumed justifies my considering you as a man of the world. As such you can be of essential service to me in the very awkward, unpleasant, and mortifying situation in which I am involved. I am really anxious to do what is right: my inclinations have no perverseness connected with them; nor, in order to win your opinion to my wishes, shall I attempt to misstate my particular position, or varnish with a false gloss any of the circumstances connected with it. I shall proceed, therefore, to make you acquainted, not only with the dilemma in which I am placed, but the manner in which my mind is affected by it, and the particular inclinations which have arisen out of it.
When I tell you that my parents are in the first rank of gentry, that I am just nineteen, with a very handsome fortune at my own disposal when I come of age, with other promising contingencies, you will naturally suppose, that the subject on which I am about to consult you, relates, in some way or other, to marriage. It is even so—-and at my age, and in my situation, it is not for me to inform you, that the temple of Hymen is the object which bounds every avenue of my thoughts. Indeed, I cannot very well conceive that any real difficulty should arise in such a situation as mine, which is not more or less influenced by the saffron-robed divinity, whom our sex are brought up from their cradles to worship; and to whose solemnities I have every regular disposition, if I may be allowed to take my own time in the performance of them, proceed in my own way, and chuse my own company when I perform the irrevocable rites. Now, the truth is, that my father wishes to lead me one way, while my mother is anxious to conduct me by another, and there is another which I have rather a strong desire to go myself. 1 will explain my threefold dilemma.
It is not necessary, I presume, to describe my person or my qualifications. All I shall say on such a subject is, that the one is not, I believe, without some attraction; and the other are the fruits of an education in which no attention or expence was spared to improve a mind, of whose character this letter, perhaps, will enable you to form a tolerable notion. I have already told you that I am of a good family; my connections are in conformity to it, and, on my attaining the age of twenty-one, I shall succeed to a fortune of thirty thousand pounds, which, a marriage with the consent of papa and mamma, will previously give me. Besides this, at the death of the latter a similar sum will devolve to me. Thus you will perceive that I have, at least, all the merits of a good fortune, which may be still increased by several, not very improbable, circumstances; and if my harum-scarum, wrongheaded, high-spirited brother should contrive, in some of his mad pranks, to make a sudden departure from the world, and more unlikely things come to pass every day, I shall be the heiress of six thousand a year.
I need not, I am sure, employ any argument to persuade you, Mr. Spectator, that I am no common matrimonial object. There is certainly a very heavy, and consequently a very attractive chink in my purse; nor will you suppose that I have reached my nineteenth year, and am still singing, "Nobody comes to woo."-—To tell you the truth, there are at this time two candidates for my good graces. The one is a country neighbour, a young man of large fortune, and a kind of hundredth cousin. He is a good-humoured, chuckle-headed, fox-hunting fellow, who fancies himself violently in love with me, and endeavours to prove the sincerity of his passion by toasting me in bumpers of every kind, and with occasional flashes of complimentary ribaldry, at every club and public meeting in the county. He has done me the honour to name a favourite racing mare after me; and, perhaps, might love me best of all things but his horse.
My father espouses his cause with great zeal; and my brother, who likes life for the sake of his foxhounds, occasionally lets loose a burst of stable language and university slang in his favour; and, if my mother had joined the party, I should have had not only a difficult, but a very painful business upon my hands: for as to marrying him, no human power should have compelled me to engage in that misery. Fortunately, however, for me, a Scotch lord, a distant relation of my mother, was induced to profess himself my admirer; and he was less suited to my inclinations than my country cousin: but be is warmly supported by my dear mamma. His lordship is very proud, and not very rich; and though he is possessed of a superior understanding, he is so unpleasant in his figure, his manners are so destitute of the winning graces, and he discovers such slender marks of a liberal spirit, that I would rather descend to the repose of the family vault, than accompany him to the altar. It is, however, to these contrasted interests that I am indebted for my present tranquillity: for when my father urges the pretensions of his hero, my mother appears to support my respectful refusal; and when she talks of my being a countess, his prejudice against the whole Scottish nation breaks forth, and saves me from maternal persecution. I have entreated them both, in their secret and distinct communications with me, to leave me to myself till I come of age; and as I have promised my father that I will never marry the Scotch lord, and assured my mother that I will never marry my country cousin, they are each of them respectively persuaded in their own minds of the final success of their particular projects.
But while these good people were employing themselves so busily in their own ways to get a husband for me, I was not idle, my dear Mr. Spectator, and had, in a very quiet, unnoticed, and unsuspected way, determined upon one for myself. I am certainly less ambitious than my anxious parents. I have neither chosen a Scotch lord of ancient family, nor a country squire of great estate. My choice (will you believe it?) is nothing more nor less than the parson of the parish, with little more than a living of five hundred pounds a year. He is, however, a young man of very superior attainments, and the grandson of a bishop; while his virtues render him respected and beloved by all who are within the scope of their influence. He travelled with a young nobleman of the first distinction; and a residence of three years on the Continent has given as high a polish to his manners as his noble pupil possesses, who is the boast of the first circles.
Without the least suspicion of any human being, our future union is settled between us. He undertook to teach me the Italian language, and the perceptor won the heart of his pupil. As no one in the family is acquainted with that tongue, we can exchange our sentiments, without any danger of being detected, or attempting any secret communication, which might create an alarm in the minds of the old folks. The secret is essential to our happiness; for if our future design should be suspected, my father and mother, whose opposite views are so favourable to my own project, finding themselves involved in equal disappointment, would, on the discovery, join in their persecution of me, and my present home would become so painful to me, that I might be compelled to take a step, and in a way, which those whose good opinion I should ever wish to maintain would disapprove. The pride of my mother, and the worldly spirit of my father, would think themselves justified in employing any means, that their thwarted passions might suggest, to prevent the degradation and folly, as they would think it, of my becoming the wife of the parson of the parish, in which my father has four thousand pounds a year. But though I bid defiance to the pride of the one, or the rapacious spirit of the other, I should be glad to avoid a scene of domestic uneasiness; and I certainly deprecate the being disunited from my family. I do not, I trust, deceive myself, when I say, that it is not a fanciful, girlish passion which influences my determination, but a calm, sober, and well-weighed consideration of what will be most conducive to my real happiness. I have had opportunities of observing the scenes of high life and fashionable dissipation, and they do not give even a plausible promise of solid satisfaction. I see also an additional glow on the prospect, when I reflect that I shall elevate the man I love to wealth, instead of receiving the elevation from him. It is not pride that suggests this idea, but affection.
And now for the principal object of my application to you.—-I do not ask your advice whether or no I shall marry the parson, for that I am determined to do; but whether I should take possession of the rectory now, or two years hence, when I shall carry thirty thousand pounds along with me. He seems to prefer the delay; and yet, on Sunday last, at least I fancied so, he seemed to convey the contrary opinion, when he preached from the following text: "Whatsoever thine hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might."—-Your counsel must be disinterested, and I wish to receive it with the reasons on which it is founded. If you should think the measure advisable, I shall not trouble myself about the resentment of papa or mamma; I shall then have a husband to protect me. It is a consideration of no small importance; and though I have plenty of friends to consult, there is not one of them in whom I would venture to confide. I am in a state of great perplexity; and if you will favour me with your advice, I am sure it will be right, and I think I shall follow it. As my father never reads any thing but the Racing Calendar, and my mother confines her studies to novels and the Bible, I am not afraid of their seeing this letter.
Belinda.