I am no great admirer of grave writings, and therefore very frequently
lay your papers aside before I have read them through; yet I cannot
but confess that, by slow degrees, you have raised my opinion of your
understanding, and that, though I believe it will be long before I can
be prevailed upon to regard you with much kindness, you have, however,
more of my esteem than those whom I sometimes make happy with
opportunities to fill my teapot, or pick up my fan. I shall therefore
choose you for the confident of my distresses, and ask your counsel
with regard to the means of conquering or escaping them, though I
never expect from you any of that softness and pliancy which
constitutes the perfection of a companion for the ladies: as, in the
place where I now am, I have recourse to the mastiff for protection,
though I have no intention of making him a lapdog.
My mamma is a very fine lady, who has more numerous and more frequent
assemblies at our house than any other person in the same quarter of
the town. I was bred from my earliest infancy to a perpetual tumult of
pleasure, and remember to have heard of little else than messages,
visits, playhouses, and balls; of the awkwardness of one woman, and
the coquetry of another; the charming convenience of some rising
fashion, the difficulty of playing a new game, the incidents of a
masquerade, and the dresses of a court night. I knew before I was ten
years old all the rules of paying and receiving visits, and to how
much civility every one of my acquaintance was entitled: and was able
to return, with the proper degree of reserve or vivacity, the stated
and established answer to every compliment; so that I was very soon
celebrated as a wit and a beauty, and had heard before I was thirteen
all that is ever said to a young lady. My mother was generous to so
uncommon a degree as to be pleased with my advance into life, and
allowed me, without envy or reproof, to enjoy the same happiness with
herself; though most women about her own age were very angry to see
young girls so forward, and many fine gentlemen told her how cruel it
was to throw new claims upon mankind, and to tyrannize over them at
the same time with her own charms and those of her daughter.
I have now lived two and twenty years, and have passed of each year
nine months in town, and three at Richmond; so that my time has been
spent uniformly in the same company and the same amusements, except as
fashion has introduced new diversions, or the revolutions of the gay
world have afforded new successions of wits and beaux. However, my
mother is so good an economist of pleasure that I have no spare hours
upon my hands; for every morning brings some new appointment, and
every night is hurried away by the necessity of making our appearance
at different places, and of being with one lady at the opera, and with
another at the card-table.
When the time came of settling our scheme of felicity for the summer,
it was determined that I should pay a visit to a rich aunt in a remote
county. As you know the chief conversation of all tea-tables, in the
spring, arises from a communication of the manner in which time is to
be passed till winter, it was a great relief to the barrenness of our
topics to relate the pleasures that were in store for me, to describe
my uncle's seat, with the park and gardens, the charming walks and
beautiful waterfalls; and everyone told me how much she envied me, and
what satisfaction she had once enjoyed in a situation of the same
kind.
As we are all credulous in our own favour, and willing to imagine some
latent satisfaction in any thing which we have not experienced, I will
confess to you, without restraint, that I had suffered my head to be
filled with expectations of some nameless pleasure in a rural life,
and that I hoped for the happy hour that should set me free from
noise, and flutter, and ceremony, dismiss me to the peaceful shade,
and lull me in content and tranquility. To solace myself under the
misery of delay, I sometimes heard a studious lady of my acquaintance
read pastorals, I was delighted with scarce any talk but of leaving
the town, and never went to bed without dreaming of groves, and
meadows, and frisking lambs.
At length I had all my clothes in a trunk, and saw the coach at the
door; I sprung in with ecstasy, quarreled with my maid for being too
long in taking leave of the other servants, and rejoiced as the ground
grew less which lay between me and the completion of my wishes. A few
days brought me to a large old house, encompassed on three sides with
woody hills, and looking from the front on a gentle river, the sight
of which renewed all my expectations of pleasure, and gave me some
regret for having lived so long without the enjoyment which these
delightful scenes were now to afford me. My aunt came out to receive
me, but in a dress so far removed from the present fashion that I
could scarcely look upon her without laughter, which would have been
no kind requital for the trouble which she had taken to make herself
fine against my arrival. The night and the next morning were driven
along with inquiries about our family; my aunt then explained our
pedigree, and told me stories of my great grandfather's bravery in the
civil wars; nor was it less than three days before I could persuade
her to leave me to myself.
At last economy prevailed; she went in the usual manner about her own
affairs, and I was at liberty to range in the wilderness, and sit by
the cascade. The novelty of the objects about me pleased me for a
while, but after a few days they were new no longer, and I soon began
to perceive that the country was not my element; that shades, and
flowers, and lawns, and waters had very soon exhausted all their power
of pleasing, and that I had not in myself any fund of satisfaction
with which I could supply the loss of my customary amusements.
I unhappily told my aunt, in the first warmth of our embraces, that I
had leave to stay with her ten weeks. Six only are yet gone, and how
shall I live through the remaining four? I go out and return; I pluck
a flower, and throw it away; I catch an insect, and when I have
examined its colours, set it at liberty; I fling a pebble into the
water, and see one circle spread after another. When it chances to
rain I walk in the great hall, and watch the minute-hand upon the
dial, or play with a litter of kittens which the cat happens to have
brought in a lucky time.
My aunt is afraid I shall grow melancholy, and therefore encourages
the neighbouring gentry to visit us. They came at first with great
eagerness to see the fine lady from London, but when we met we had no
common topic on which we could converse; they had no curiosity after
plays, operas, or music; and I find as little satisfaction from their
accounts of the quarrels or alliances of families, whose names, when
once I can escape, I shall never hear. The women have now seen me,
know how my gown is made, and are satisfied; the men are generally
afraid of me, and say little, because they think themselves not at
liberty to talk rudely.
Thus am I condemned to solitude; the day moves slowly forward, and I
see the dawn with uneasiness, because I consider that night is at a
great distance. I have tried to sleep by a brook, but find its murmurs
ineffectual; so that I am forced to be awake at least twelve hours,
without visits, without cards, without laughter, and without flattery.
I walk because I am disgusted with sitting still, and sit down because
I am weary with walking. I have no motive to action, nor any object of
love, or hate, or fear, or inclination. I cannot dress with spirit,
for I have neither rival nor admirer. I cannot dance without a
partner, nor be kind, or cruel, without a lover.
Such is the life of Euphelia, and such it is likely to continue for a
month to come. I have not yet declared against existence, nor called
upon the destinies to cut my thread; but I have sincerely resolved not
to condemn myself to such another summer, nor too hastily to flatter
myself with happiness. Yet I have heard, Mr. Rambler, of those who
never thought themselves so much at ease as in solitude, and cannot
but suspect it to be some way or other my own fault, that, without
great pain, either of mind or body, I am thus weary of myself: that
the current of youth stagnates, and that I am languishing in a dead
calm for want of some external impulse. I shall, therefore, think you
a benefactor to our sex, if you will teach me the art of living alone;
for I am confident that a thousand and a thousand and a thousand
ladies, who affect to talk with ecstasies of the pleasures of the
country, are, in reality, like me, longing for the winter, and wishing
to be delivered from themselves by company and diversion.
I am, sir, yours,
EUPHELIA.
_Samuel Johnson._