Memorials and Other Papers — Volume 1De Quincey, Thomas
General
Memorials and Other Papers — Volume 1
De Quincey, Thomas
English essays
A portrait of
her friend hung in the drawing-room; but Lady Carbery did not willingly
answer the questions that were sometimes prompted by its extraordinary
loveliness. There are women to whom a female friendship is
indispensable, and cannot be supplied by any companion of the other sex.
That blessing, therefore, of her golden youth, turned eventually into
a curse for her after-life; for I believe that, through one accident or
another, they never met again after they became married women. To me,
as one of those who had known and loved Miss Smith, Lady Carbery always
turned the more sunny side of her nature; but to the world generally she
presented a chilling and somewhat severe aspect--as to a vast illusion
that rested upon pillars of mockery and frauds. Honors, beauty of
the first order, wealth, and the power which follows wealth as its
shadow--what could these do? what _had_ they done? In proportion as they
had settled heavily upon herself, she had found them to entail a load
of responsibility; and those claims upon her she had labored to fulfil
conscientiously; but else they had only precipitated the rupture of such
ties as had given sweetness to her life.
From the first, therefore, I had been aware, on this visit to Laxton,
that Lady Carbery had changed, and was changing. She had become
religious; so much I knew from my sister's letters. And, in fact, this
change had been due to her intercourse with my mother. But, in reality,
her premature disgust with the world would, at any rate, have made her
such; and, had any mode of monastic life existed for Protestants, I
believe that she would before this have entered it, supposing Lord
Carbery to have consented. People generally would have stated the case
most erroneously; they would have said that she was sinking into gloom
under religious influences; whereas the very contrary was the truth;
namely, that, having sunk into gloomy discontent with life, and its
miserable performances as contrasted with its promises, she sought
relief and support to her wounded feelings from religion.
But the change brought with it a difficult trial to myself. She
recoiled, by natural temperament and by refinement of taste, from all
modes of religious enthusiasm. Enthusiasm is a large word, and in many
cases I could not go along with her; but _canting_ of all descriptions
was odious to both of us alike. To cultivate religious knowledge in an
intellectual way, she very well understood that she must study divinity.
And she relied upon me for assisting her. Not that she made the mistake
of ascribing to me any knowledge on that subject; but I could learn;
and, whatsoever I _had_ learned, she knew, by experience, that I
could make abundantly plain to her understanding. Wherever I did _not_
understand, I was far too sincere to dissemble that fact. Where I _did_
understand, I could enable _her_ to understand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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