A century of English essays : $b An anthology ranging from Caxton to R. L. Stevenson & the writers of our own time
General
A century of English essays : $b An anthology ranging from Caxton to R. L. Stevenson & the writers of our own time
English essays; English literature
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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