Modern literature: a novel, Volume 1 (of 3)Bisset, Robert
General
Modern literature: a novel, Volume 1 (of 3)
Bisset, Robert
England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction
attempts, in her own mind, to under-rate the charms of Miss Wentbridge,
recoiled on herself in exaggerating their witchery. But though envy
cannot really force itself to a contempt of its object, it may easily
try to assume that disguise. Mrs. Sourkrout, while pining at the
perception of such excellence, observed to her next neighbour, that
the young person on the floor, though awkward and hoydenish, was a
decent enough looking girl. “I suppose,” says she, “she is the daughter
of some farmer, curate, or excise-man; it is wrong of them people
bringing their daughters into genteel company; it gives them high and
foolish notions; don’t you think so, my dear,” said she, turning to her
daughter; “Yes ma’am,” was all the answer that came from Miss, who,
had paid little attention to the question or antecedent conversation.
Miss’s thoughts were indeed far otherwise employed.
Those observers of character, countenance, and dispositions, greatly
err; who, from acidity, or even harshness of visage, temper,
conversation, and actions, infer in women an insensibility to
amorous passions. Indeed these appearances very often arise from
extreme sensibility, crossed in its pursuits, repining at the want
of attainment, or, perhaps, regreting unfortunate success. Mary of
England, the votary of the sourest bigotry, was still more the devotee
of boundless love for her husband. There has often been observed to be
a considerable analogy between mankind and irrational animals. We know
there are cats who will scratch, and bite, and tear others with all the
dissonance of squalling treble, yet softly and gently purr upon their
mates. Miss Sourkrout was a very susceptible young damsel; and if she
still remained in a state of celibacy, it was not for want of good will
to the opposite condition.--She had often shot the rays of love from
her azure-coloured orbs, but they had not reached the destined marks.
Perhaps, indeed, this might be owing to their oblique direction; for it
often happened, that when she intended to direct the artillery of her
charms to the front, its force was spent beyond the right or the left
wing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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