3 '( '// VV/. - * OK, THE HEIRESS OF DESMOND. BT MISS OWENSON, AUTHOR OP THE MISSIONARY, &C. IN TWO VOLUMES'. THIRD EDITION, CORRECTED AND MUCH ENLARGED. \VITH A PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR. _._ VOL. I. LONDON: PR1NTBD FOR ], ], STOCKDALE, 41, PAH MA1J.J 1812. / . 7 . /...,. ' .j-'-v. '-t. /!*> . ^/Si, .-/'-"^'--y -^ S. Cos NELL, Printer, Little Queen Stieet, London. JPo the affectionate Companion of my early life to the endeared Associate of those young gay hours in which the following little Work was composed- TO LADY CLARKE, ST. CLAIR IS INSCRIBED, With every sentiment of tenderness and respect, BY Her Sister, SYDNEY OWENSOtf, Sept. 18, 1811. 2203364 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. THE following little work is simple and obvious in its tendency ; it aims at moral evils, above which, the mind, regulated by principles of prudence and philosophy, rises superior ; and to which the mind of common-place reflection and ordinary capacity is in- vulnerable. It is addressed, there- fore, to those sentient and suscep- t'ble beings, who, in ascending the scale of intellectual refinement, incur the probability of graduating through each sad degree of intellectual suffer- ing, of which the human mind is susceptible. Children of passion and of senti- ment, it is to you it is addressed ; to you, whom the warm effusions of re- VI PKEFACE. fined feeling, arid the glowing visions of animated fancy ', lead, in flowery trammels, beyond the "fait realities of life ;" whose errors are of the imagination, but whose sorrows are of the heart. Philosophy and igno- rance are alike exempt from the in- fluence by which you are governed ; the former contemns what it cannot feel, the latter derides what it does not understand. Exquisite native sensibility, nur- tured by habit, subtilized by the refinements of superior education, united to a tender heart and lively imagination, and accompanied by the proud consciousness of merit, superior to \\iefortune of its possessor, is, per- haps, the most fatal donation within the gift of nature. 'A character simi- larly organized, feels itself alone in the midst of life's busiest scenes ; isolated' ary-d unconnected, it in vain unfolcls the rich hoard of its affec- tions, and claims the congenial smile PREFACE. Vll of sympathizing friendship ; tender and ardent, it languishes in secret and unceasing anxiety to form a still more endearing tie ; and the long and fondly-sought object once dis- covered, it pursues its attainment, however opposed by circumstances, and condemned by prudence, " D'un aveugle penchant le charmc imperceptible Fiappe, saisit, entiaine, et rend un coeui sensible." CORNEILLE. sanctioning its errors by the plausible sophistry of perverted understanding, and firmly attached to virtue in her most obvious point of view, insensibly violating those minor and social laws by which her power is best supported and confirmed. The following little work, though written at a time of life when inven- tion is more alive than judgment, is yet almost destitute of plot ; and the ifevv incidents it relates may probably be traced, with little variation, in the domestic records of many an amiable Vlll PREFACE. family, whose peace has been sacri- ficed to the sentimental imprudence and ardent passions of its most highly gifted member; evincing that the best informed mind, evea when associated with the worthiest heart, by insensibly resigning itself to the impulses of a strong but fatal propensity, may wound, in those delicate points which the scrutiny of the law cannot reach, that society it was calculated to enrich by its virtues, by its endowments to adorn. ST. CLAIR; OK, THB HEIRESS OF DESMOND. LETTER I. Dublin, March 8th, 17 . THE Minister has at last dismissed me; the disappointment came like a re- prieve ; you will smile at the seeming paradox, but you will understand me. My nature is restored to its own dignity: I blush to think it could suffer from adventitiouscircumstances. The mind of man should hold itself independent of the little trials and VOL. i. B 14 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE vicissitudes of every- day life ; it should repose in the conscious strength of its own dignity ; and the immortal gift of the Deity should rise superior to the petty caprices and oppressions of man : and yet, my dear friend, to be totally uninfluenced by situation and circumstance is perhaps the standard of human perfection. I smiled at my father's relation of the fallacy of a great man's promise, as the cynical observation of a man, on whom the world frowned ; and I should have smiled at it still, had I not been a sufferer by it : so true it is, that infallible conviction is only to be gathered from practical experience. In private society every man is al- lowed to consult his private feelings HBIRBSS OP DESMOND. 15 in the disposal of his favours ; a man in office is to have none : this man has given the situation he in- tended for me to his own nephew : all this is very -natural ; I only wish he had done it sooner, as it would have saved me some hours of tedious at- tendance and mortification. I cannot bear to think of it ; my Lord has taken it as a matter of course shakes his head looks wise, and says, " Something better may offer itself." I have told him it must not be ob- tained by waiting on the levee of a great man; he smiles com passionately, and sometimes utters the word, " ro- mantic." This will give you some kind of insight into what sort of man it is : tf his mind a standing pool, h. heart a dyke." As yet, however, have seen but little of him, an,d B 2 16 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE known less, though his relative and guest. Pray write to my mother when you receive this ; say every thing you can to her " her tender buds of hope" have been so often blasted, I feel for her ; this.nevv disappointment but it is unavoidable ; your manner of writing will cheer her mind, and mine must produce a contrary effect; add a short postscript too, to Lydia and Nanette, and tell them that, -at this moment, I would rather be one in their dear little circle, than giving audience to a cringing levee, in all the pomp of office and glare of conse- quence. D has failed to an immense amount, and the wreck of my father's HEIRESS -OP DESMOND. lj small property will afford avery limited subsistence to my mother and sisters. Under such circumstances it would be madness to have rejected the offered patronage of Lord L . Yet I feel that I owe it more to the kind inter- ference of your father, than to the dying request of mine, or the sug- gestions of his Lordship's own gene- rosity. B 3 18 ST. CLAlfl; OH, THE LETTER II. THE first truth admitted by the scep- ticism of Descartes was, " that he thought and reasoned" operations of intellect to which, alas! I have lately become insensible. The bustle, in which I am obliged to participate, prevents study and bids defiance to reflection ; and while I live in what is called the first company, I can yet find no society ; every heart which I would interest, seems to con- geal as I address it ; and every being to whom I would connect myself, either does not or will not understand me. Then I languish for that inter- HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 19 course of mind, wherein animal exist- ence seems to suffer a suspension, as the soul unfolds her powers ! My dear friend, I have known mo- ments of bliss; I have known them in the bosom of my family, in the endearments of social life, and in the blessings of friendship ; but I am con- vinced, that I am capable of being happier than I have yet been, and that there are feelings dormant in my heart, more powerful, more poignantj than any which the circumstances of my life have awakened into being. I see plainly, my first day's ac- quaintance with these people will form the boundary of our intimacy ; like the greater part of the world, they glide down the stream of popular 20 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE opinion, and carefully avoid all those impediments to their indolent course which nature or reason may occasion- ally obtrude on them : they avoid the trouble of thinking for themselves, and are thankful that people thought for them a thousand years before, without ever consulting that measure of faculty which the Deity has en- dowed them with. This is, in a certain degree, the character of mankind epi- tomized. Lord L was a patriot, but his Lordship has formed two thousand arguments against the patriotic sys- tem, in a place of two thousand a year. He says Sydney and Russel sold themselves to France ; and that he has only acted as all patriots would willingly act, if the ministry would HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 21. but come up to their price. Such, he adds, was the opinion of Sir Robert Walpole, who, it is to be feared,, found the infallibility of his maxim, in the corruption of those he brought to its test. Lady L is perfectly the woman of fashion, which is all Lady L requires to be; rank and opulence take in, with her, the whole scale of human perfection ; you may judge,, therefore, how far I have ascended that of her esteem. She treats me,, however, with tliat indiscrirmnating and insipid courtesy, which she means should pass for affability and con- descension ; yet if her face is ever susceptible of expression, it is wheit I dare maintain an opinion of my own, in opposition to one of rny B 5 22 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE Lord's, or some of his noble guests. As for herself, she never has an opinion, and her conversation is an incessant repetition of common-place reflections, which one hears bandied about from every mouth, whether of th<" vulgar little, or the vulgar great. They are both esteemed the best people in the world, and are, iri short, just such people as one meets with every day, and every where yet these are the persons on whose bounty I am thrown ! on whom 7am dependant ! I dependant ! oh mer- ciful Heaven ! never ! with youth and health, never ! I am just returned from the study of Lord L . The last assertion of rny pen trembled on my lips as I entered it. I repeated to him what I HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 23 had written to you. My father was very blameable, he said, for educating me in such obsolete and romantic no- tions : however, his eldest son would be in Ireland in a few weeks, and he had interest both in the civil and mili- tary departments, which he was sure he would be happy, both as a friend and as a relation, to exert in my favour : in the interim, the preceptor of his youngest boys having been lately promoted to a living, if I would amuse myself with the superinten- dence of their education, it would lighten the burden of that imaginary dependance I supported with so much restless impatience. Thus, my dear friend, I have got some little part to play upon the theatre of life. I have obtained per- BO 24 ST. GLAIR; OR, THE mission of my Lord, to set off for his seat in Connaught, with my young pupils, immediately ; and this is the first satisfaction I have felt since I left Switzerland. I am weary of this town I am weary of the persons among whom I live, or rather among whom I drag on " THAT LONG DISEASE, MY LIFE." In short, I fear, I am weary of myself; you will tell me that that morbid sen- sibility of character I have so fatally encouraged, darkens every view of life which fortune presents to me : but, aias ! to what purpose point out the seat of the evil, and the nature of the disease, if it set remedy at defi- ance, and if, the better it be under- stood, the more incurable it appears ? HEIRESS OF DESMOND. 25 If I am organized upon principles diametrically opposite to the line of life in which I am to act, am I there- fore to blame ? Cairn, if you can, the torrent which rushes impetuously through my veins ; diminish the action of that vital fluid which circu- lates its mysterious power through my whole being, and give a firmer and more rigid tone to nerves which now thrill and vibrate in fatal sympa- thy to every fine impression ; and then command me to feel and think like the common herd of men, and I will obey you ! My young metaphysician, are you yet to learn how much the moral de- pends upon the physical man ? : or how impracticable it is to change that character, whose natural bias and 10 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE construction have been confirmed and strengthened by the circumstances and influence of a peculiar and appro- priate education ? I had almost forgotten to mention this son on whom I am to depend for my future prospects: he is the Colonel of a regiment, a member of the Irish senate, and has some personal interest with the Ministry. The second son is a Major in his brother's regiment. The Colonel and his brother are re- turning from the continent with a skeleton regiment, and behaved, I am told, with the most intrepid gal- lantry at the siege of . I have just received your letter. Your questions made me smile ! You certainly have a great deal of academic HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 27 freshness about you ! Ah ! what a pity that the coarse friction of the world should destroy this beautiful gloss ! Why did your parents edu- cate you in Switzerland, that you might live in London ? No, my dear friend, I did not, like Ulysses, kiss the earth, when I first touched the shores of my native place ; I beheld them from the Bay, with the eye of a painter and a poet, rather than of a patriot. Among the numberless extrava- gancies which pass through the minds of men, is perhaps to be reckoned that notion of an instinctive affection, independent of, and superior to, our reason, which we are supposed to have for our country, as if there was some physical virtue in the soil, which 28 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE necessarily produced this effect in every one born upon it. The only recollection I retained of my country (which I left in boyhood) is associate^ with a melancholy re- membrance of the injuries my father sustained in it, from the religious bigotry of his family ; yet I love -this country because it is mine for self- love never slumbers, and that which we call ours is always important to us. It is scarcely ten years back since Lord L , by renouncing the faith of his ancestors, obtained the restor- ation of those titles and dignities which they had conscientiously sa- crificed, from a principle of virtue which has gradually decayed in its . HEIRESS OP DESMOND. descent to their posterity. My father seemed to have anticipated the apcj- tacy of his family, and was an age gone in heresy, and deep in Luther, Melancthon, and Erasmus ; while his cousin, Lord L , was' still in- volved in all the sacred mystery of tran- substantiation, and wading through Thomas Aquinas and the council of Trent with his Jesuitical tutor. The early apostacy of my father, and his imprudent marriage, rendered him an object of persecution to his family ; and, with a younger brother's portion, he sought a retreat under the tolerance of a Swiss republic, where, influenced by an habitual indolence, and the debility of a shattered consti- tution, he passed the last twenty years of his life, in literary retirement,. 3O ST. CLAIR; OR, THE and the cultivation of a romantic farm, on the shores of the delightful lake of Geneva. While the spiritual concession of his noble relative has been productive of all the temporal aggrandizement he expected, my father's new light, to speak paradoxi- cally, involved his worldly prospects in obscurity ; and his family, by " outward and very visible signs" are still suffering for his <( inward and spiritual grace." Thus different as the notions which influenced them, have been the fates of the apostate cousins. I am sorry I must disappoint your expectations, by sending you only t( a map of my mind," when you demand a chart du pays, including a sketch of society and manners, &c. HEIRESS OF DESMOND. 31 &c. ; but the fact is, the general in- tercourse of nations in the present day, and universal promulgation of knowledge, leave the mind of a mo- dern traveller but little scope for the due exercise of its penetration, in the discovery of national character ; that of the Irish we have both read a thousand times ; and were it other- wise, on my own observation, I should hazard little, as those whose aggre- gate constitutes the people, and may be supposed best to preserve the na- tional stamp, I have no opportunity of mingling with ; and the people of fashion here, are like the people of fashion every where else. Adieu. 32 ST. CLAIR ; OB,, TH LETTER III. \VHEN the inclinations and pursuits of early life form themselves into principles, and methodize into habits, every inevitable change is considered as a trial, and every necessary devi- ation an insufferable persecution. I have not only to complain of the style of society here, which is, to me, tiresome, insipid, and irrational ; but the mere situation, the place, wearies and stupifles my mind, and denies all resource to my imagination, which is perpetually recurring to the bold and magnificent views, the wild and ro- HErRESS OP DESMOND. 33 mantic scenes of the land of my affections. This is, perhaps, one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, and yet when, from one of its lovely environs, I behold the- blue tops of the pic- turesque hills which almost encircle it, I stretch out my arms with a long- ing desire to approach th ;rn, as to- wards friends, in whose bosoms I should find repose and peace ; and I return to the " false forest of a well- hung room," in sadness and in dis- gust. Nothing, in this country, which peculiarly belongs to itj is prized by its natives ; they look with indiffer- ence upon the beauty of their native scenes, and/talk to you affectedly of 34 ST. CLAIH ; OR, THE the Alps and Appenines. Their moun- tains, so numerous and so picturesque, and which serve as alembics, where vapours, exhaled by the sun, are con- densed into clouds, and send their refreshing dews and fruitful showers to fertilize and enrich their plenteous soil ; their lakes, more numerous than in any other country in the world of the same extent, so important in a commercial view, affording, as many of them do, within a few miles of the sea, a free navigation ; their mines, rich in metallic treasures ; their quar- ries of the finest marble ; in a word, those gifts on which the well-being of society depends, and which nature here has so bounteously lavished, are not only unappreciated, but almost unknown by name to the inhabitants. This indifference to national posses- HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 35 sions extends itself beyond mere in- animate nature. The Irish acknow- ledge no merit, and are sensible to no excellence which is born and grows among themselves. The genius of the country feels the slight, droops under the neglect, or flies to regions more willing to appreciate its efforts more capable to reward them. It com- mands the armies of other countries, and procures conquest and glory to great nations ; it takes the lead in the free senate of the freest people of the earth ; it enriches the annals of litera- ture, with productions which can only perish with the language in which they are embodied ; and is every where ac- knowledged and every where admired, except on the soil which gave it birthJ 36 ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE There are, perhaps, at this moment, hundreds, even of what may be deemed the better order of society, in this little city, who are ignorant that it is honoured by the residence of one of the most celebrated philosophers in Europe ; their own venerable and ve- nerated compatriot, Mr. KIRWAN ! And, while the few strangers who visit this country, however d-'tin- guished by rank, by genius, or cele- brity, seek out this amiable and dis- tinguished character, to lay the ho- mage of their admiration and their gratitude at his feet/ the inhabitants of Dublin are engaged in running after some imposing quack, recom- mended to their notice in a private letter from an English lady of fashion, who, though an English lady of fashion in Dublin, may be no lady of HEIRESS OF DESMOND. 37 Fashion at all in London ; or, humbly envious of each other's taste, are striving who shall hest do the honours t>y an English actor, or French dancer, or an Italian singer ! Shame upon the country which lives insensible to its own glory, and gives its meed of admiration and encouragement to every merit but that which itself pro- duces ! ^ If, to you, I seem to judge or speak harshly of my native land, it is because I love it in my heart of hearts. I am indignant to discover that it dares not, in any sense, be true to itself. Would that every Irish heart throbbed with the same pulse of na- tional enthusiasm with which mine now beats ! But if I judge by all I TOL. I. . c 38 ST. CLA1R; OR, THE see, and all I hear, the accomplish- ment of that wish is far, far distant ! Farewell ! To-morrow I shall com- mence my little wanderings through the mountains of Wicklow; my health and spirits equally demand a change of air and scene. HEIRESS OF DESMOND. LETTER IV. County of Wicklow, Valley of Glendilough. I AM not distant from the metropolis more than twenty rabies, and, with- out the least exertion of fancy, I might suppose myself a thousand leagues from any inhabited region'; so wild, so solemn, and so seques- tered, is this lovely and romantic val- ley ; yet lonely and remote as it now appears, it was once the scene of all the passions and all the prejudices by which mankind are agitated and mis- led. Here still are to be discovered, embossed with lichens, and shaded by underwood and creeping plants, re- c 2 40 ST. CLA1R ; OR, THE liques and fragments of extraordinary architecture. Here too, rearing its rude structure amidst the surround- ing woods, stands one of those cu- rious round towers, of which history., oral or written, has given no account, and on which human supposition can throw no light. Here, too-, are still to be seen the picturesque ruins of a monastery, once the abode of saints, or the as.yium of impostors ; and the remains of seven distinct oratories, or places of worship, which are called, by the peasants of the neighbourhood, the (f Seven Churches ;" and here, from time immemorial, on the third of June, is celebrated the festival of the saint, who is considered the tu- telar guardian of this consecrated val- .iey Saint Keiven. HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 41 Glendilough, or the Valley of Lakes, reposes in the bosom of an high and irregular chain of moun- tains, whose deep shadows throw an unvaried gloom upon its loveliness, and, contracting its prospects and li- miting its views, peculiarly adapts its romantic solitudes to the purpose of solemn meditation and religious se- clusion. It was here, in the bloom of life, and perhaps with such a feeling of the t&dium vit ST. CLAIR; OR, THE word, without passion, to a mind lively and ardent as mine, whether in the world or in solitude, is " the death of the soul." HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 57 LETTER VII. THE village schoolmaster having met me two or three times wandering about the rocks with a book in my hand, took it into his head that I was a learned man, and came to^jpay i a visit in consequence ; for he is himself a very erudite personage, and the prince of mathematicians ; he sends rebusses and charades to the Ladies' Magazine ; expounds riddles, and starts problems, which no 6rie can solve but himself. He opened his learned intrench- ments with Aristotle, talked of ca- tegories, interpretations, and predi- 58 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE cables; of surfaces and solids, sections and symbols, triangles and tangible bodies, Burgersdic, Des Cartes, and Newton, all in a breath ; however, he soon found that " there were more things in heaven and earth than ' were dreamt of in my philosophy," and I really believe he parted from me with the happiest assurance of his own superiority, and of my being little better than a blockhead ; for while he was in the act of defining a quiddity, I interrupted him to inquire jnta the possibility of procuring an old Irish poem I had heard my father repeat. He shook his head con- temptuously, and replied, that he never troubled himself with such bar- barous productions, though Aristotle condescends to mention Ireland, and HEIRESS OF DESMOND. Strabo speaks of it as being in the possession of the Carthaginians. I have seen nothing of my mathe- matical friend since, and my only companion is an old house-steward, who appears coeval with the castle, and who is so truly attached to the family of L , that he feels a lively interest for its remotest mem- ber ; he loves his glass, sings the best Irish songs in the world, and unites the most respectful manners to a loquacity, when indulged, the most unbounded. From him I learned some characteristical and domestic anecdotes of which I was ignorant* Last night he leaned on the back of my chair while I supped on an excel- lent salad of his dressing : "It is five- and-twenty years, come eve of St. ST. CLAIR; OB, Patrick, young gentleman," said he, ittle fragments written on one of the windows attracted my attention : one, addressed " To first Love," was signed Frederick L j the other i? dis- tinguished by th initials of Olivia's ftame. Both probably took rise from the eircnm stances and eonfersations tff HEIRESS OP BE3MOND. 73 the passing moment; when fancy stole her inspirations from the lip of love, and genius realized what pas- sion dictated : if so, how I envy the authors J 74 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE LETTER VIII. THE family of L arrived here a : few days back, with a crowd of com- pany ; and so little do these people understand the science of employ-- ment, or the art of giving pleasure its true zest by the poignant charm of novelty, or the magical force of con- trast, that, among the sublime and beautiful of nature, among rocks and torrents, and woods and mountains, they pursue the same idle routine of frivolous and insipidamusements which interested and engaged them amidst the smoke and din, the bustle and noise, of the dissipated metropolis. Thus, neglecting to "consult the HEIRESS OF DESMOND. 75 genius" of the place in every thing, Lady L has her green-house and aviary in Merrion Square, and her billiard-room and Faro-bank in the country. Notwithstanding all this, I think every one seems tired of the other ; they yawn more in an hour than they laugh in a week, and fre- quently recall to my mind Voltaire's animated picture of Lassitude and Ennui : " De soi mme peu satisfait On veut du monde il embarrasse,. Le plaisir fuit, le jour se passe Sans sgavoir ce que Ton fait." Ah ! but, my good friend, there is somebody else arrived in the country besides Lady L and her group of automatons ! It is Olivia, the heroine of my little novel. She appeared at a ST. CLAIR; OR, THE Je t e-champetre.,' given by Lady L , last night. Shall I confess a weak- / ness, which, knowing me as yourdo f you have probably anticipated .and smiled at ? Often, since I first heard Qf this amiable young person, have my heart and imagination enriched her with all those touching graces, those seldom met, and superior en- dowments, with which I have so fre- quently decked the "celestial visitant," my own rapturous melancholy loves to create. I cannot describe to you- with what emotions I heard her an- nounced, and beheld her enter ; yet the appearance of Olivia is not of that striking description to fix the gaze of admiring attention amidst the splen- dour of a ball-room, and a crowd of beautiful competitors. HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 77 Olivia is rather bewitching than beautiful ; but there is a certain art- less poignancy in her air, an original something, which possesses a charm not to be defined : it will not strike every one, but those it does will feel it sensibly. Her movements are graceful beyond the reach of art, for hers is the grace of sentiment rather than of external motion, and is in my eyes a thousand times more beau- tiful than even beauty itself j it ani- mates her every action, but it is most eminently conspicuous- when she dances. A thousand times, as her light form flitted by me in the dance, did I feel the full force of the Spec- tator's assertion, that " to be a good dancer, it is requisite to have a good understanding." There was a soul in the dancing of Olivia, which seemed 78 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE even to dissipate the fashionable list- lessness of her tonish partners, and a wild, native, feminine vivacity in her air and manner, which seemed not the effect of confidence, but the cause of the most winning ease and modest freedom : yet I thought at times she appeared to lose all interest in the gaiety in which, a moment before, she seemed to participate with all her heart ; an air of abstraction stole over her animated countenance, as if she involuntarily retired within herself; and a glance of intelligence lurked in her eye, which slyly seemed to satirize the lively sallies her lips dispersed to the triflers who fluttered round her ; while the tone of her voice, the most touching, the most harmonious I ever heard, constantly raised expectation, the matter which excited its powers, destroyed. HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 79 I hovered so constantly near her, that it was almost impossible I should not attract her notice ; more than once her eye met mine, and while she spoke to Lady L in a half- whisper, I observed her Ladyship honour me with a glance, and pro- nource my name sufficiently audibly for me to hear it. Do you think I was not proud of the circumstance ? Indeed I was ! I have since pro- nounced my name in twenty different tones. Do you know I think there is magic in a name ! " And ev'ry tongue that speaks But Romeo's name, speaks heav'nly eloquence,'* says the impassioned Juliet. Olivia ! is not Olivia a sweet name? it is certainly an Italian appellation, and SO ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE yet it is a very prevailing orte among some of the old Connaught families, I am such a bashful blockhead, I could not for the soul of me muster up courage to get myself introduced to her, nor indeed did I much covet a ball-room introduction to such a wo- man as Olivia. She retired early, and I followed her example, and have been ever since thinking that Colonel L must be the happiest man in the world. Heigh, ho ! do you know I could find it in my heart to fall in love, if I too could meet with an Olivia. " Perduto, e, tutto il tempo Che in amore non si spende/' says Tasso ; poor Vanini * said the * He was consigned to an Auto-da-fe by the Inquisition, for asserting that every hour wa* lost which was not spent in love. HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 81 same, and burnt in " flames no way metaphorical" for the assertion. Should I be so fortunate as to get acquainted with this interesting wo- man, I think it will do me all the good in the world ; it will promote a free circulation of thought, and rouse the stagnant energies of my mind. It is so pleasant to meet with a being whose ideas assimilate to our own ! it is the foundation of all social bliss ; and if there is not some coin- cidence of mind between Olivia and your friend, the supposed intuition of sympathy has deceived him wofully indeed. I am told she is a very su- perior musician, reads much, and writes many such little effusions as I found in the fishing-house. She loves too, and is beloved : this would *en- 82 ST. CLAIR J OR, THE der our friendship singular and deli- cious, and dispel at once the only danger I should have to fear from so sweet a connexion. . - How unlike are the females I have met with here, to the idea I have formed of Olivia ! they are so vapid, so trifling, so inconsequent ! The society altogether indeed, here, is in- supportable ; conversation is at its lowest ebb, dry common-place, and uninteresting ; neither strengthened by reflection, nor chastened by senti- ment ; neither enlivened by wit, uf enriched by literary observation. As you may suppose, therefore, I spend little time in the drawing-room of Lady L . Being alone in a crowd, is to me of all solitudes the HEIRESS OF DESMOND. most frightful ; and I always prefer a ramble amidst the mountains and rocks of this wild country, or a seat amidst the picturesque ruins of a very fine abbey in the neighbourhood, to the tonish garrulity of her Ladyship's fashionable guests. This self-retire- ment Pope terms the "pis aller of mankind :" it is certainly a pis aller with me ; for I have a mind formed for society, and a heart, whose every pulsation throbs in unison with its. pleasures and its endearments. 84 ST. CLAIR ; OR, THK LETTER IX. IT is long, my dear friend, Vmce a post-day has been to me " a day of melody ;" existence seems to suffer a degree of suspension in the interme- diate intervals ; and the pleasure which thrills through my heart, when I receive a letter from you, or my beloved little family, and the fears, the tender anxieties a disappointment occasions, are my only proof that my feelings are yet alive to the influence of bliss or anguish ; and that there yet throb some affectionate hearts, in whom I excite, for whom I feel, an interest. Were it not for that, what were the life of man ! HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 85 I have this moment received your long-wished-for letter. I am not at all surprised that your literary ac- quaintance disappointed you. You are amazed to find a man of genius a coxcomb ; but prepare yourself, my dear friend, for many such disap- pointments in your journey through life, if you expect to meet with per- fect conformity of parts and consist- ency of character, in the " summary and central poiut of all existence, man." Tycho Brahe, who laughed at that phenomenon, an eclipse, which then filled the world with consternation and dread, would yet resign himself to the most desponding depression of spirits, if an old woman was the first to salute him in the morning, or a hare crossed VOL, i. $ 86 ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE him at the entrance of his house. The immortal Verulam has been charac- terized as " The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind." James II. of England, as a brave ge- neral, a dastardly monarch ; Louis XIV. the hero of his age, the tool of his mistresses ; and Aristotle, the prince of philosophers, and who ob- tained as universal an empire over the minds of mankind, as did his pupil over their rlives and properties, the most finished fop in Greece. Such, my dear friend, are the incongruities of the human character; but a young mind, reared in retirement and soli- tude, knowing the world only by books, and judging of man by its own virtuous bias, enters on busy bustling life full of " the vulgar er- HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 87 rors of the wise ;" giving to virtue, or to genius, its appropriate qualifi- cations, and, in the unbridled expect- ations of an heated fancy, sketching a prelude for innumerable mortifica- tions : the glow of its pleasing de- lusion soon fades in the disappoint- ment of worldly experience ; and, when it finds that beauty has no in- separable connexion with goodness, genius with virtue, talents with recti- tude, nor speculative philosophy with moral excellence, it sighs over the ruins of its frail hopes, and but too often exclaims, " Alas ! poor human nature !" For my part, my' own disappointments in this respect have been so numerous, that I should not be much surprised to find that this new " dweller of my thoughts,'* this E 2 88 ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE dangerous Olivia, had not, to use a term of Swift, thrown off all the leav- ings of the sex ; and that is, I assure you, the strongest proof I could give of my scepticism to the perfection of our own natures. I must thank you a thousand times for your letter, and your kindness to my mother ; but I think it were ad- visable for her not to leave Switzer- land until my prospects clear up a little ; besides that, she can manage her little income there, to more ad- vantage than either here or in Eng- land. Ah ! my dear friend, it is this helpless little family which at once attaches me to., and embitters life. " The valiant in himself, what can he -suffer ? Or what need he regard his single woes ?" HEIRESS OF DESMOND. What indeed ! Let me know if you have heard from oar old preceptor at Geneva, or any of our school- com- panions. I found many of their names written in an old Horace which had got among the few books I brought over with me : how many pleasant boyish recollections did it revive ! Yet r after all, I doubt if the state of child- hood is susceptible of all the happi- ness ascribed to it ; it is rather an ex- emption from evil,. than an actual en- joyment of good, which constitutes its chiefest blessing. There are many hidden sources of delight, dormant at that period, which enrich and ele- vate our being in a more mature day. The pleasures of the imagination and the mind, the retrospect of past hap- piness, and the anticipation of future, are unknown to the child : he lives ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE but for the present moment ; you will perhaps say, has he not, in that, an advantage over all the philo- sophers of the earth ? HEIRESS OP DESMOND, LETTER X. I HAVE met with an adventure. Yes- terday I ilung my gun at my back, and rambled about the mountains for some time without firing a shot, until, wearied by the sultry influence of the hour, I directed my -steps to a little coppice, which wound down the sides of a rugged steep, and seemed to screen, from the chill mountain blast, a cottage, whose blue curling smoke rose above the plantation of fir and copper-ash which sheltered it. Struck by its picturesque situation, I was in- duced to sketch it, with the surround- ing scenery, in the blank leaf of a book. I held in my hand : when, on a nearer JE 4 02 ST. CLA1R; OR, THE approach, I heard the confused prattle of childish voices, and, supposing it some little receptacle of learning, " Where sits the dame disguis'd in look pro- found, And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around/' I advanced cautiously to take a glance of one of those characteristic and liv- ing pictures, which equally interest my heart and taste ; and the thin fo- liage of a low quickset hedge favoured the intention. Within the door of the cottage, with all the insignia of birch and spec- tacles, sat the president of the little society, " stiff, dry, and sage ;" on either side stood a weeping pupil, whose 'brows were encircled with the HEIRESS OF DESMOND. disgraceful honours of a dunce's cap, and whose inarticulate voices cobbed over the immortal feats of " The Seven Champions of Christendom." At a small distance from-the entrance of the hut, a little group circled round a white paling, over which leaned a fe- male form, light and graceful as that of an hamadryad.- A veil 'but half drawn, discovered the prettiest mouth and chin in the world ; and a voice the most harmonious ? alternately dispensed encouragement and approbation, some- times chid, and sometimes advised, with a sweetness which must have en- sured reformation in the attentive little auditory to whom it was addressed. The fascinating preceptress having finished her examination, and exhorted them to an observance of their moral, E 5 94 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE religious, and school duties, dispensed rewards proportioned to their merits : some got a cake, some a toy, some a book, from a little basket which hung on her arm. Even the poor weeping dunces were not forgotten, in spite of the remonstrances of their angry in- structress ; and one chubby smiling being got a kiss into the bargain how I envied the little rogue ! She then thanked the lady-president for her great attention, and departed : she was followed by a servant, who drove a garden chair ; and as she walked slowly up a steep hill, I fled from my covert, and darting through a thick plantation, sprung over a ditch, so as to cross the path she had taken. No ruse de guerre was ever better ma- naged : I met her full it was Olivia ! JHad I indulged myself in the impulse HEIRESS OP DESMOND*' of the moment, I should have bent my knee to her as she passed, with more animated devotion than ever vo- tarist did at the shrine of his patron saint ; but I only bowed respectfully, and even that I felt presumptuous, as I had not been presented to her. To my astonishment, she addressed me, with the most winning ease, by my name ; and her inquiries for the family of L formed a kind of excuse for my walking by her side; and the walk was prolonged by her noticing the book I held in my hand. " Ah! Ossian," said she, with animation, turning over the leaves, and reading with great energy the following lines : " Often does the memory of former times come like the evening sun on my soul."- _ How I love those t( rienc ndifs et pleins de grace," which, in the bosom of an agreeable leisure, enable us to gaily " play the trifle life away !" It is certain there are very few who know how to live ! The, petite soupers of HEIRESS OF DESMOND. 1?5 the celebrated Madame de Martel Fontaine *, if more brilliant, were not more delightful than Olivia's ; then she appears in the happiest of her phases, and there is sometimes a vein of arch playfulness in her man- ner, which might shame the laughing air of an Euphrosyne. I am told, that, though she has not diminished the hospitable pro- pensities of her grandfather, she has taught them to flow in a better chan- nel ; and that the society of the Ab- bey is more discriminate, and mare select, though scarcely less nume- rous, since she has presided as its mistress. * Celebrated by Voltaire and others, for the freedom, elegance, and gaiety of her enter- tainments. ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE It is certain, that indiscriminate hospitality is the virtue of an uncivil- ized people, and, while it apparently breathes the very spirit of philan- thropy, originates most frequently in self-love. The mind, unaccustomed to commune with itself, barren of ideas, and void of reflection, is thrown wholly dependent on society for occupation and engagement, and adopts every species of social and familiar intercourse, which, by op- posing that vacuity of intellect, against which human nature, except in her most imbecile state, revolts, relieves it from the dreadful oppression of the t&dium vitcs ; hence the indiscrimi- nate hospitality of savage nations, and even of the less refined inhabitants of the most polished states. HEIRESS OP DESMOND. Iff The Brehon laws of the ancientlrish forbade the breaking up of a sept too suddenly, lest the traveller might be disappointed of his expected entertain- ment ; and many traces of this hos- pitable spirit are still to be found among the modern Irish of every de- scription, and too often to the pre- judice of their circumstances, consti- tution, and minds ; for a national custom which would be sometimes " more honoured in the breach than the observance," frequently leads to an extravagance which involves them in pecuniary difficulties, while the ex- cesses of which it is productive, are equally detrimental to the health; and it is certain, that, amidst the bound- less freedom of convivial jocularity, and the unrestrained enjoyments of ?ocial intercourse, the mind and man- J78 ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE ners must lose in refinement, what the passions acquire in strength and vehemence. The society of his grand-daughter is daily rendering Sir Patrick Des- mond independent of every other. Her conversation, full of variety and anecdote, can accommodate itself to every understanding which does not fall short of mediocrity : modest and unassuming, her cheek frequently blushes at the superiority her lips confer ; rather playful than witty, rather fascinating than brilliant. In energy of expression, and persuasive eloquence in sentimental observation, she stands, in my opinion, unequalled and unrivalled : her talents, rather versatile than individually striking, -HEIRESS OP DESMOND. give that variety to her character which is most grateful to the caprice of our nature ; and the sensibility of her warm heart, and the vivacity of her temper, bestow that facility on her manners which renders her ease infectious to the most formal : the restraint of uncongenial society throws her from herself ; and the fear of me- riting the title of a learned lady, ren- ders her more anxious, at times, to conceal her superiority, than other women are to display theirs : but she still always retains a magic something in her air, her manner, analogous to those graces in moral virtue, which set the line of ethic rule at defiance, to the je ne s$ais quoi in personal beauty, which description cannot ex- press. ISO ST. CLAIR J OK, THE Happily there are but few Olivias, or the power of woman would be- come as dangerous, from intellectual influence, as it is now from personal attraction. I have always observed, in the course of my little reading, that those women who governed the hearts and understandings of men with the most unbounded sway, owed their power, less to the witchery of beauty and youth, than to the charm of mind and cultivation of talents. Aspasia was no longer young, when Socrates became her disciple, and im- bibed the principles of the philosophia amatoria at her feet, and when Athens was governed by her decrees through the medium of Pericles. Corinna, of whose talents we read so much, and of whose beauty we know so little, HEIRESS OF .J5ESMOND. presided over the studies, as well as the heart of Pindar. The abilities of Catharine raised her from a cottage to a throne. Maintenon, in the de- cline of life, had more power over the heart and councils of Louis the Four- teenth, than La Valliere in all the attractions of youth, or Montespan in all the splendour of beauty ; and if we are to credit the assertions of Dio, the only gallantry the voice of scandal could lay to the charge of Cicero, was his attachment to, and lite- rary correspondence with Caesellia, a female wit, and a philosopher of seventy : and this, I believe, is bring- ing as strong an argument in favour of my position as could be desired, A woman merely beautiful may at- tract ; a woman merely accomplished rot, i. i 182 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE may amuse ; and both united may produce a transient fascination ; but it is sense and virtue only which fasten jon the mind : if to these precious qualities are added a certain refine- ment and elegance of taste, ^nd a certain delicacy and elevation of sen- timent united to animation of tempo and softness of manners, the power of their possessor becomes altogether irresistible ; it is acknowledged by the heart, it is ratified by the understand- ing, and it exalts every delight the senses can bestow. J always thought this, but I can now aver it from a sweet, but, I fear, a fatal experience f HEIRESS OP DESMOND. J83 LETTER XXII. IHOSE infant prejudices in favour of Sir Patrick Desmond, which marked the first period of our acquaintance, are hourly ripening into maturity. He has failings and who has not ? but they are of that description which jiver meet with indulgence from so- ciety, because they neither originate in narrow principles nor an ungene- rous mind ; for I have observed, that thpse errors, which can be traced to such a source, though less destructive in their effects on mankind than those which originate in a boundless spirit and vehement passions, ever find less toleration. i 2 184 ST. CLA1R ; OR, THE 5 96 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE without a string Apropos, borrow some German wire from Lady L , and put it in your pocket when you come over. Here too is the half- finished plan of the grotto, in as rough and wild a state as the most savage fancy could design it ; and I have not looked into Gottsched since you left us. In short, you have made your- self so useful', that I hourly find " I could have better spared a bettec man." I send you all your books,, except Haller. HEIRESS OF DESMOND. LETTER XXV. TO OLIVIA. AM I indeed the worthless fellow you describe me, or do you imagine, " I run away upon instinct," like Falstaff from the shadowof impending danger? Alas ! instinct has never so befriended me, and, like many others, I am but too apt to " meet my death by look- ing on my life." The truth is, I have been three times at the Abbey, with- out being able to get a glimpse of you : yesterday I entered the fishing- house in less than an hour after you had leff it, as the gardener told me, with a party of ladies ; and twice you were IQ8 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE visiting at the castle, when I, in all the pettishness of disappointment, was wandering about the grounds of Des- mond. Thus, my charming friend, for this week back we have been like two lines in mathematical certainty, which may continue to approximate ad ii\fi- nitum, without ever coming into con- tact ; and the comparison might be admissible in a sense more extensive than that to which it is at present ap- plied. No, I hate coquetry in friendship, as much as you possibly can ; nor am I sufficiently endowed with self-denial to refine upon its enjoyment by a vo- luntary sequestration, from its object : it is however certain, that temporary removals heighten and exalt the fer- vour of every attachment, whether of HEIRESS OP DESMOND. love, friendship, or collateral affec- tion ; and I may say, with great truth, that I am never more with you, my amiable friend, than when absent from you ; and yet it is not being with you neither, for your idea is so closely in- terwoven with my every thought, that my mind has no longer the power to dissolve the connexion, [even if my wishes led to the separation. To-morrow the family of L dine with one of your chieftains, and I shall fly to my Alhambra ; then the grotto shall be finished, the piano- forte shall be strung;, Gottsched shall be read, and I shall be Olivia's very prudent friend ; in spite of her song, her harp, and even the sly smile which creates the little dimple on the left side of the prettiest mouth in the world. 20O STi CLA1R; OH, THE LETTER XXVI, X FKOM OLIVIA. AH pilferer ! return me my manu- script, or dread the vengeance of the whole Parnassian legion : I did not miss it till this morning, when I was looking over my porte-feuille, for your drawing from Ossian- Apropos, there is too much ga'iele de cceur in the countenance of Mal- vina. Do you know it has a strong likeness of your little friend E even the parson detected the resemblance. " This has too much of your Euphro- syne air," said he to me, " to he cha- racteristic of the pensive Malvina." 1CEIRESS OP DESMOJfD. 201 Grandpapa desires I will request you to come over to us this evening. A peasant has found some old gold coin amidst the rubbish of a ruin in the neighbourhood ; and you must come and share the triumph - da virtuoso* You shall have coffee in the fishing- house too, and I have ordered the harp there. I feel an elasticity of mind, and a flow of spirits to-day, for which I cannot account. This is a certain species of happiness, independent of every external gratification, to which I am frequently subject, and is one of the most lively enjoyments which Providence has annexed to my being. Come not therefore to me with your grave face and pensive air, *' Like one well studied in sad ostent, To please his grandam." ST. CLAIR; OR, THE The laughing graces of Desmond would take flight at the appearance of the sombre vision. " On est heureux des qu'on est sage," says the Cardinal de Bern is ; but I reverse the maxim in my present dis- position, and believe that " we are wise when we are happy." This even- ing in my little Tusculum, as you call the fishing-house, you shall see that my philosophy is not merely speculative ! What say you to becoming my disciple ? Remember I stipulate for smiles ! but none of your Cassius-like smiles, as if you " scorned your spi- rit, that could be moved to smile at any thing." You often smile in this manner ; and indeed too frequently HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 203 in general society reverse the golden rule of " Volto sciolto, pensieri stretti." For no man wears, in general, a more reserved and self-wrapt look ; and few ever risked their opinions with such imprudent freedom. Adieu. 204 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE LETTER XXVII. TO OLIVIA. I FLY to you, my charming friend ; I fly to meet you at your little Tuscu- lum. Friendship has not in the world, nor love in Cnidus nor Paphos, a more delightful asylum, a retreat more formed for the enjoyment of tender emotions, or tender sighs. But, alas ! it is my wishes only which have taken wing ; four hours, four heavy hours, must steal away with lazy pace, before I behold you orTusculum. Is my portrait of Malvina indeed like you ? This has happened with two or HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 205 three others I have lately done: how is it to be accounted for ? I think it was Simon Martini, who was so im- pressed with the beauty of Laura, that all his female pictures resembled her ; dare I draw any allusion ? Adieu, my sweet friend, my amiable sister ! for I may at least claim an affinity to you on the side of soul ; and that, in my opinion, is a stronger, closer re- lationship, than can be found in any genealogical catalogue whatever. I had almost forgotten to promise you that I would leave my grave face and pensive air at the castle of L ; and that I would come to you with all the vivida vis animce I could muster. " Spirits are finely touck'd, But to fine issue :" VOL. I. K 206 ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE and the unusual flow of vivacity which animates yours, is, I hope, but the laughing anticipation of impending joys : may they light on you, under a thousand delightful forms, this even- ing ! What a true delices, " De parler, sur la fin du jour, Be vers, de muskjue, et d' amour !" The last word might have been omit- ted, for it renders the quotation inap- plicable^ do you erase it. Once more adieu. My adieus are like a preface to a second volume ; and yet, " What have I gain'd bjthis one minute more ? Only to wish another and another.** HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 207 LETTER XXVIII. TO OLIVIA, GIVE me no more such little festivals, my charming friend, or dread the con- sequences. The very air of your Tus- culum was infectious, and diffused its delicious poison through my whole frame. Never were you truly yourself until lastnight : the fire of your vivacity was moderated by a thousand touching graces ; the animation of your man- ner was tempered by the most insinu- ating softness ; you blushed more fre- quently than usual, but it was the blush of pleasure, chastened by senti- K 2 2O8 ST. CLA1R ; OR, THE ment; and the lively glow, which diffused itself over your smiling coun- tenance, spoke the sensibility of the heart whence it flowed ; you sung, and my soul hung upon every note that sighed its melody on your lips. I was no longer myself I felt my danger, and I trembled for my teme- rity ; I would have fled, but the voice of Olivia detained me. You said half audibly, and with a meaning smile, " II y a des rivieres qui nefontjamais tant du bien, que quand dies se debor- dentf ainsi Tamitie rid rien meilleur que rexces *." Ah, sorceress! what a method did you take to moderate that excess of friendship, which had not * As some rivers fertilize the banks they overflow, so in friendship there is nothing better than excess. BALZAC. HEIRESS OP DESMOttI). 20Q escaped your observation ? You dre\t your harp to you, and sung that air, which, even in a cooler moment, I cannot hear without emotion. You triumphed in the witchcraft of your powers ; I saw you did, Olivia, arid I remained overwhelmed and lost in de- lirium ; while Captain M , at the other sideof you, was crying, "Charm- ing, extremely well indeed !" with all the cool musical emphasis of a pro- fessed amateur ; and yet, Olivia, his admiration did not displease you, com- mon-place as it was. How agreeable, how unaffected were your two female friends ! I think I see them at this moment, dressed at all points, seated so demurely at their netting, stealing a sly glance at the kivincible Captain, tossing up their K 3 21O ST. CLAIR; on, THE heads when caught in the very fact, and tittering and simpering so pret- tily when he addressed them. Then the form of Olivia presents itself, bending gracefully over her harp* That dress too, so simple, yet so art- fully contrived to set off the symmetry of her form ! what a head presented it- self when the straw hat was thrown by ! The two fair sisters nodded their high plumes at each other, and seemed to say, " This is looking very charm- ing at a very easy rate." Your grand- father, poor man ! seemed enraptured, and never, in my eyes, did your atten- tions to him appear less obvious, yet more touching nor more interesting. Would you believe it, the hour which I devoted to my solitary walk home, was scarcely less delightful HEIRESS OF DESMOND. 211 than that wjiich I had just passed in your society. Every little circumstance which occurred, every word you ut- tered, floated in my mind, with all the additional glow which fancy casts upon those soothing images memory presents to the senses and the heart. Indeed my thoughts flow always more happily on leaving you than when I am going to you, as the train of va- pour which attends a comet does not betray its illumination until it has passed the sun. You know you often call me an eccentral body ; so the al- lusion holds good. I escaped the in- sipid garrulity of Lady L 's draw- ing- room, and retired to my own apart- ment, full of those emotions which set the influence of rest at defiance. 212 ST. CLAIR ; OR, THE I arose with the first light which dawned through my window, and my steps involuntarily bent to the fishing- house : the Abbey bell tolled five as I entered it. Everything was just as we had left it the preceding night, and the window, at which we had stood together, was still open ; you had thrown up the sash, to enjoy the fra- grance of the air, after a refreshing shower, whose drops, glittering on the foliage, were tinged with the beam of the setting sun. You pointed to those mountains, which, wild and desolate, bounded the horizon with their curving line : you remarked, as the sun sunk behind them, the variety of their aspect, caused by the opposite eftqpt of light and shade. " Those mountains," HEIRESS OP DESMOND. said you, " immortalized by the feats of Fingal, where the bards ' sent away * the night in song/ and the inspired Ossian immortalized the prowess of the hero, - do they not * send back ' your soul to the ages of old, and the * days of other years ?' The littlenesses of the world fade into annihilation as I contemplate them ; and the life by which- 1 am; so engrossed, so agitated, is reduced to the span of a moment." After a pause, yon added, " It is- certain, my dear friend, that there are objects in nature which speak to the heart, and are eminently calculated to purify and elevate the soul. The mild rising of the evening star ; the moon, stealing in silent majesty amidst those dark masses of vapour which cloud her progress^ and are silvered by her K. 5, 21-1 ST. CLAin; OK, THE light ; the cloud- embosomed summit of a distant mountain ; and, above all, those spots where the hero ' fell ' in the midst of his renown,' or where the immortal mind effused those in- pi rations which were breathed into the soul of genius when it was first quick- ened : such objects, in the moment of their contemplation, excite those sublime reflections which give us a foretaste of that eternity we were created to enjoy." You ceased ; but the voice of tire harmonious speaker still dwelt on iny ear, while her sentiments wereengraven on my heart : in the mean time your fair friends were playing offall their ar- tillery Of charms against the heart of their military hero, and your grand- father was equally ardent in an en- gagement at the chess-board with the HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 215 person. The evening closed in : he returned to the Abbey to complete his conquest ; and the Miss D s pro-* posed a walk by moonlight on the beach, in order to accomplish theirs. Captain M was enriched with the hand of each fair besieger, and you honoured me with yours ; yet I thought you did it with a timidity, a reluctance, which a thousand times, if self-love would have permitted it, urged me to its resignation ; and even' when I did resign the light and precious burden, I felt the warmth of its im- pression fading on my arm, with a ro- mantic regret not to be conceived. The pensive solemnity of the hour; the sublime object presented by the ocean, whose feathery spray seemed 2J() ST. CLAIR; OR, THE to swell to the moon-beam, which glittered on its surface, at first threw a shade over the vivacity of your manner. The wind was hush'd j ^ (Jmd, to the beach, each slowly lifted wave, Creeping, with silver curl, just kiss'd the shore, re -&->wArnd slept in peace * ." But your mind soon regained its ' wonted tone of animation ; and, while I gazed on your speaking countenance, and listened to your melodious ac- cents, it seemed as if " eternity was * in your lips and' eyes." You are never half so delightful as when in, what you term, a prattling mood. Our companions laughed, and trifled, and chatted, as in the side-box at the opera ; and 1 could not help thinking, * Mason's English Garden. HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 217 with a certain French author, ts that it is not every one knows how to take a walk." I have written thus far to you, my charming friend^ from your little Tus- culum, with my pencil : I shall leave it in your work-basket, which is lying by me, on the window-seat, where you left it last night, and where you will probably be the first to find it in your early walk to your favourite retreat. Adieu, my sweet friend ! you are still reposing in the bosom of a tran- quil sleep ; and the fairy dreams which hover o'er your pillow, probably partake of that vivid fancy which ani- mates you when awake : may it be a deam of bliss! and may time realize the soothing prophecy of each golden 218 ST. CLA.IR; OB, THE vision * I shall steal a glance at your chamber-window, as I pass it at a dis- tance; and then return to the breakfast- table of Lady L " with what Appetite I may." HEIRESS OF DESMOND. TS!S_ .!.'," , 1 LETTER XXIX. FROM OLIVIA. You are ill, my dear friend ; and you would conceal it from those who are most interested for you : my grand- father says your disorder is only on your spirits, and Captain M , who has seen you, has made the same ob- servation. Then come to mel You will find me the best physician in the world my prescriptions are infallible; for they aim at the mind. In such cases, Bacon recommends a livery poem, or a cheerful prospect. Come to the Abbey then, where you shall 220 ST. CLA1R; OK, THE have both ; and, still more, you shall have a song and a smile into the bargain. To-day I was reading of Alphonso of Leon, who was cured of a dangerous illness by the pleasure he : felt in read- ing Quintus Curtius : this made me think of you : are you not obliged to Alphonso ? Adieu, , my poor invalid. Shall I not pray, with St. Paul, " May brotherly love continue !" P. S. Was it not Eristratus who discovered the secret malady of Antio- chus by comparing its symptoms with Sappho's description of the effects of love ? I have frequently heard you apo- strophize the spirit of Miss D- 's large black eyes ; so be prepared for my analysis of your disorder a la Sappho.. HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 221 LETTER XXX. TO OLIVIA. THE very promise of your song and your smile has already had more effect on my disorder, than all the prescrip- tions Celsus or Galen ever wrote : if any of it yet lurks in my veins, it shall dissipate when I behold you ; and, like the serpent, who can only be seduced from its prey by the power of harmony, it shall vanish at the sound of your voice. But remember I forbid your animal magnetism ; my disorder shall not be intellectually analysed. Trust me, my charming doctress, it were a dangerous experiment! Malady and 222 ST. CLAIR; OR, THE a physician, they say, appeared first together ; and perhaps my fair phy- sician would find less difficulty in de- ranging my pulse, than in " new set- ing it" " There 's more felicity in carrion flies, Than Romeo: they may seize on the white wonder Of dear Juliet's hand, aud steal immortal blessing! From her lips." Love never conceived, nor poetry adorned, a more refined, a more beau- tiful sentiment than that ; it has oc- curred to me a thousand times during my few days' absence from you. I envy even the inanimate objects which are near, or which touch you ; there is nothing so dangerous as these short absences which do but urge a (< sweet return." HEIRESS OP DESMOND. 223 LETTER XXXI. TO OLIVIA. ONE thought you expressed yesterday evening made a lively impression on me : " Plato mentions four species of flattery ; St. Clair seems versed in a thousand ; nor are they the less dan- gerous for being always oblique and indirect." For Heaven's sake let us understand each other. I respect both you and myself too much to descend to adula- tion ; it is a species of commerce which equally derogates from the dignity of 224 ST. CLAIR ; OB, THE both parties : if, however, there is any flattery in the case, yours was certainly the most obvious, though the most refined. In showing me some draw- ings you had lately finished, you said, " Here is one, which, however incon- sequent its subject, I prize more than all the rest :" it was simply a bunch of flowers with the little motto of, ** Vivez toujours," written underneath : I observed that they were admirably done, and looked as if they were half-faded.