Lady Mary Wortley Montague - Letters of the Right Honourable Lady M y W y M e
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Lady Mary Wortley Montague >> Letters of the Right Honourable Lady M y W y M e
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TWO married lovers lead very different lives: They have the pleasure
to pass their time in a successive intercourse of mutual obligations
and marks of benevolence; and they have the delight to find, that
each forms the entire happiness of the beloved object. Herein
consists perfect felicity. The most trivial concerns of economy
become noble and elegant, when they are exalted by sentiments of
affection: To furnish an apartment, is not barely to furnish an
apartment; it is a place where I expect my lover: To prepare a
supper, is not merely giving orders to my cook; it is an amusement to
regale the object I dote on. In this light, a woman considers these
necessary occupations, as more lively and affecting pleasures than
those gaudy sights which amuse the greater part of the sex, who are
incapable of true enjoyment.
A FIXED and affectionate attachment softens every emotion of the
soul, and renders every object agreeable which presents itself to the
happy lover (I mean one who is married to his mistress). If he
exercises any employment, the fatigues of the camp, the troubles of
the court, all become agreeable, when he reflects, that he endures
these inconveniences to serve the object of his affections. If
fortune is favourable to him, (for success does not depend on merit)
all the advantages it procures, are so many tributes which he thinks
due to the charms of the lovely fair; and, in gratifying this
ambition, he feels a more lively pleasure, and more worthy of an
honest man, than that of raising his fortune, and gaining public
applause. He enjoys glory, titles, and riches, no farther than as
they regard her he loves; and when he attracts the approbation of a
senate, the applause of an army, or the commendation of his prince,
it is her praises which ultimately flatter him.
IN a reverse of fortune, he has the consolation of retiring to one
who is affected by his disgrace; and, locked in her embraces, he has
the satisfaction of giving utterance to the following tender
reflections: "My happiness does not depend on the caprice of fortune;
"I have a constant asylum against inquietude. Your esteem renders me
"insensible of the injustice of a court, or the ingratitude of a
"master; and my losses afford me a kind of pleasure, since they
"furnish me with fresh proofs of your virtue and affection. Of what
"use is grandeur to those who are already happy? We have no need of
"flatterers, we want no equipages; I reign in your affections, and I
"enjoy every delight in the possession of your person."
IN short, there is no situation in which melancholy may not be
assuaged by the company of the beloved object. Sickness itself is
not without its alleviation, when we have the pleasure of being
attended by her we love. I should never conclude, if I attempted to
give a detail of all the delights of an attachment, wherein we meet
with every thing which can flatter the senses with the most lively
and diffusive raptures. But I must not omit taking notice of the
pleasure of beholding the lovely pledges of a tender friendship,
daily growing up, and of amusing ourselves, according to our
different sexes, in training them to perfection. We give way to this
agreeable instinct of nature, refined by love. In a daughter, we
praise the beauty of her mother; in a son, we commend the
understanding, and the appearance of innate probity, which we esteem
in his father. It is a pleasure which, according to Moses, the
Almighty himself enjoyed, when he beheld the work of his hands; and
saw that all was good.
SPEAKING of Moses, I cannot forbear observing, that the primitive
plan of felicity infinitely surpasses all others; and I cannot form
an idea Of paradise, more like a paradise, than the state in which
our first parents were placed: That proved of short duration, because
they were unacquainted with the world; and it is for the same reason,
that so few love matches prove happy. Eve was like a silly child,
and Adam was not much enlightened. When such people come together,
their being amorous is to no purpose, for their affections must
necessarily be short-lived. In the transports of their love, they
form supernatural ideas of each other. The man thinks his mistress
an angel, because she is handsome; and she is enraptured with the
merit of her lover, because he adores her. The first decay of her
complexion deprives her of his adoration; and the husband, being no
longer an adorer, becomes hateful to her who had no other foundation
for her love. By degrees, they grow disgustful (sic) to each other;
and, after the example of our first parents, they do not fail to
reproach each other With the crime of their mutual imbecillity (sic).
After indifference, contempt comes apace, and they are convinced,
that they must hate each other, because they are married. Their
smallest defects swell in each other's view, and they grow blind to
those charms, which, in any other object, would affect them. A
commerce founded merely on sensation can be attended with no other
consequences.
A MAN, when he marries the object of his affections, should forget
that she appears to him adorable, and should consider her merely as a
mortal, subject to disorders, caprice, and ill temper; he should arm
himself with fortitude, to bear the loss of her beauty, and should
provide himself with a fund of complaisance, which is requisite to
support a constant intercourse with a person, even of the highest
understanding and the greatest equanimity. The wife, on the other
hand, should not expect a continued course of adulation and
obedience, she should dispose herself to obey in her turn with a good
grace: A science very difficult to attain, and consequently the more
estimable in the opinion of a man who is sensible of the merit. She
should endeavour to revive the charms of the mistress, by the
solidity and good sense of the friend.
WHEN a pair who entertain such rational sentiments, are united by
indissoluble bonds, all nature smiles upon them, and the most common
objects appear delightful. In, my opinion, such a life is infinitely
more happy and more voluptuous, than the most ravishing and best
regulated gallantry.
A WOMAN who is capable of reflection, can consider a gallant in no
other light than that of a seducer, who would take advantage of her
weakness, to procure a momentary pleasure, at the expence of her
glory, her peace, her honour, and perhaps, her life. A highwayman,
who claps a pistol to your breast, to rob you of your purse, is less
dishonest and less guilty; and I have so good an opinion of myself,
as to believe, that if I was a man, I should be as capable of
assuming the character of an assassin, as that of defiling an honest
woman, esteemed in the world, and happy in her husband, by inspiring
her with a passion, to which she must sacrifice her honour, her
tranquillity, and her virtue.
SHOULD I make her despicable, who appears amiable in my eyes? Should
I reward her tenderness, by making her abhorred by her family, by
rendering her children indifferent to her, and her husband
detestible (sic)? I believe that these reflections would have
appeared to me in as strong a light, if my sex had not rendered them
excusable in such cases; and I hope, that I should have had more
sense, than to imagine vice the less vicious, because it is the
fashion.
N. B. I AM much pleased with the Turkish manners; a people, though
ignorant, yet, in my judgment, extremely polite. A gallant,
convicted of having debauched a married Woman, is regarded as a
pernicious being, and held in the same abhorrence as a prostitute
with us. He is certain of never making his fortune; and they would
deem it scandalous to confer any considerable employment on a man
suspected of having committed such enormous injustice.
WHAT would these moral people think of our antiknights-errant, who
are ever in pursuit of adventures to reduce innocent virgins to
distress, and to rob virtuous women of their honour; who regard
beauty, youth, rank, nay virtue itself, as so many incentives, which
inflame their desires, and render their efforts more eager; and who,
priding themselves in the glory of appearing expert seducers, forget,
that with all their endeavours, they can only acquire the second rank
in that noble order, the devil having long since been in possession
of the first?
OUR barbarous manners are so well calculated for the establishment of
vice and wretchedness, which are ever inseparable, that it requires a
degree of understanding and sensibility, infinitely above the common,
to relish the felicity of a marriage, such as I have described.
Nature is so weak, and so prone to change, that it is difficult to
maintain the best grounded constancy, in the midst of those
dissipations, which our ridiculous customs have rendered unavoidable.
IT must pain an amorous husband, to see his wife take all the
fashionable liberties; it seems harsh not to allow them; and, to be
conformable, he is reduced to the necessity of letting every one take
them that will; to hear her impart the charms of her understanding to
all the world, to see her display her bosom at noon-day, to behold
her bedeck herself for the ball, and for the play, and attract a
thousand and a thousand (sic) adorers, and listen to the insipid
flattery of a thousand and a thousand coxcombs. Is it possible to
preserve an esteem for such a creature? or, at least, must not her
value be greatly diminished by such a commerce?
I MUST still resort to the maxims of the East, where the most
beautiful women are content to confine the power of their charms to
him who has a right to enjoy them; and they are too sincere, not to
confess, that they think themselves capable of exciting desires.
I RECOLLECT a conversation that I had with a lady of great quality at
Constantinople, (the most amiable woman I ever knew in my life, and
with whom I afterwards contracted the closest friendship.) She
frankly acknowledged, that she was satisfied with her husband. What
libertines, said she, you Christian ladies are! you are permitted to
receive visits from as many men as you think proper, and your laws
allow you the unlimited use of love and wine. I assured her, that
she was wrong informed, and that it was criminal to listen to, or to
love, any other than our husbands. "Your husbands are great fools,"
she replied smiling, "to be content with so precarious a fidelity.
"Your necks, your eyes, your hands, your conversation are all for the
"public, and what do you pretend to reserve for them? Pardon me,
"my pretty sultana," she added, embracing me, "I have a strong
"inclination to believe all that you tell me, but you would impose
"impossibilities upon me. I know the filthiness of the infidels; I
"perceive that you are ashamed, and I will say no more."
I FOUND so much good sense and propriety in what she said, that I
knew not how to contradict her; and, at length, I acknowledged, that
she had reason to prefer the Mahometan manners to our ridiculous
customs, which form a confused medley of the rigid maxims of
Christianity, with all the libertinism (sic) of the Spartans: And,
notwithstanding our absurd manners, I am persuaded, that a woman who
is determined to place her happiness in her husband's affections,
should abandon the extravagant desire of engaging public adoration;
and that a husband, who tenderly loves his wife, should, in his turn,
give up the reputation of being a gallant. You find that I am
supposing a very extraordinary pair; it is not very surprising,
therefore, that such an union should be uncommon in those countries,
where it is requisite to conform to established customs, in order to
be happy.
VERSES
_Written in the Chiask, at Pera, overlooking Constantinople, December
26th, 1718._
By Lady MARY WORTLEY MONTAGUE.
GIVE me, great God! Said I, a little farm,
In summer shady, and in winter warm;
Where a clear spring gives birth to murm'ring brooks,
By nature gliding down the mossy rocks.
Not artfully by leading pipes convey'd,
Or greatly falling in a forc'd _cascade_,
Pure and unsully'd winding thro' the shade.
All-bounteous Heaven has added to my prayer
A softer climate, and a purer air.
OUR frozen ISLE now chilling winter binds,
Deform'd by rains, and rough with blasting winds;
The wither'd woods grow white with hoary frost,
By driving storms their verdant beauty lost,
The trembling birds their leafless covert shun,
And seek, in distant climes a warmer sun:
The water-nymphs their silent urns deplore,
Ev'n _Thames_ benum'd's a river now no more:
The barren meads no longer yield delight,
By glist'ring snows made painful to the sight.
HERE summer reigns with one eternal smile,
Succeeding harvests bless the happy soil.
Fair fertile fields, to whom indulgent Heaven
Has ev'ry charm of ev'ry season given;
No killing cold deforms the beauteous year,
The springing flowers no coming winter fear.
But as the parent _Rose_ decays and dies,
The infant-buds with brighter colour rise,
And with fresh sweets the mother's scent supplies,
Near them the _Violet_ grows with odours blest,
And blooms in more than Tyrian purple drest;
The rich _Jonquils_ their golden beams display,
And shine in glories emulating day;
The peaceful groves their verdant leaves retain,
The streams still murmur undefil'd with rain,
And tow'ring greens adorn the fruitful plain.
The warbling kind uninterrupted sing,
Warm'd with enjoyments of perpetual spring.
HERE, at my window, I at once survey
The crowded city and resounding sea;
In distant views the _Asian_ mountains rise,
And lose their snowy summits in the skies;
Above those mountains proud _Olympus_ towers,
The parliamental seat of heavenly powers.
New to the sight, my ravish'd eyes admire
Each gilded crescent and each antique spire,
The marble mosques, beneath whose ample domes
Fierce warlike _sultans_ sleep in peaceful tombs;
Those lofty structures, once the Christians boast,
Their names, their beauty, and their honours lost;
Those altars bright with gold and sculpture grac'd,
By barb'rous zeal of savage foes defac'd:
_Sophia_ alone her ancient name retains,
Tho' unbelieving vows her shrine profanes;
Where holy saints have died in sacred cells,
Where monarchs pray'd, the frantic _Dervise_ dwells.
How art thou fall'n, imperial city, low!
Where are thy hopes of _Roman_ glory now?
Where are thy palaces by prelates rais'd?
Where _Grecian_ artists all their skill display'd,
Before the happy sciences decay'd;
So vast, that youthful kings might here reside,
So splendid, to content a patriarch's pride;
Convents where emperors profess'd of old,
Their labour'd pillars that their triumphs told;
Vain monuments of them that once were great,
Sunk undistinguish'd by one common fate;
One little spot, the tenure small contains,
Of _Greek_ nobility, the poor remains.
Where other _Helens_ with like powerful charms,
Had once engag'd the warring world in arms;
Those names which royal ancestors can boast,
In mean mechanic arts obscurely lost:
Those eyes a second _Homer_ might inspire,
Fix'd at the loom destroy their useless fire;
Griev'd at a view which struck upon my mind
The short-liv'd vanity of human kind.
IN gaudy objects I indulge my sight,
And turn where _Eastern pomp_ gives gay delight;
See the vast train in various habits drest,
By the bright scimitar and sable vest,
The proud vizier distinguish'd o'er the rest;
Six slaves in gay attire his bridle hold,
His bridle rich with gems, and stirrups gold;
His snowy steed adorn'd with costly pride,
Whole troops of soldiers mounted by his side,
These top the plumy crest Arabian courtiers guide.
With artful duty, all decline their eyes,
No bellowing shouts of noisy crowds arise;
Silence, in solemn state, the march attends,
Till at the dread divan the slow procession ends.
YET not these prospects all profusely gay,
The gilded navy that adorns the sea,
The rising city in confusion fair,
Magnificently form'd irregular;
Where woods and palaces at once surprise,
Gardens on gardens, domes on domes arise,
And endless beauties tire the wand'ring eyes;
So sooth my wishes, or so charm my mind,
As this _retreat_ secure from human kind.
No knave's successful craft does spleen excite,
No coxcomb's tawdry splendour shocks my sight;
No mob-alarm awakes my female fear,
No praise my mind, nor envy hurts my ear,
Ev'n fame itself can hardly reach me here:
Impertinence with all her tattling train,
Fair-sounding flattery's delicious bane;
Censorious folly, noisy party-rage
The thousand tongues with which she must engage,
Who dares have _virtue_ in a _vicious_ age.
VERSES
TO THE Lady MARY WORTLEY MONTAGUE,
By Mr POPE.
I.
IN beauty or wit,
No mortal as yet
To question your empire has dar'd;
But men of discerning
Have thought that in learning,
To yield to a lady was hard.
II.
Impertinent schools,
With musty dull rules
Have reading to females deny'd;
So papists refuse
The BIBLE to use,
Lest flocks should be wise as their guide.
III.
'Twas a woman at first
(Indeed she was curst)
In _knowledge_ that tasted _delight_;
And sages agree,
The laws should decree
To the first possessor the right.
IV.
Then bravely, fair dame,
Renew the old claim,
Which to your whole sex does belong,
And let men receive,
From a second bright Eve,
The knowledge of _right_ and of _wrong_.
V.
But if the first Eve
Hard doom did receive,
When only _one apple_ had she,
What a punishment new
Shall be found out for you,
Who tasting have robb'd the _whole tree_?
A SUMMARY OF THE CONTENTS.
LET. 1. _From Rotterdam_.--Voyage to Helvoetsluys--general view
of Rotterdam--remarks on the female dresses there.
LET. II. _From the Hague_.--The pleasure of travelling in
Holland--the Hague--the Voorhout there.
LET. III. _From Nimeguen_.--Nimeguen compared to Nottingham--the
Belvidera--the bridge--ludicrous service at the French
church.
LET. IV. _From Cologn_.--Journey from Nimeguen to Cologn--the
Jesuits church--plate--relics--the sculls of the eleven
thousand virgins.
LET. V. _From Nuremberg_.--Difference between the free towns,
and those under absolute princes--the good effects of
sumptuary laws--humorous remarks on relics, and the
absurd representations in the churches at Nuremberg.
LET. VI. _From Ratisbon_.--Ridiculous disputes concerning
punctilios among the envoys at the Diet--the churches
and relics--silver image of the Trinity.
LET. VII. _From Vienna_.--Voyage from Ratisbon down the Danube--
general description of Vienna--the houses--furniture--
entertainments--the Fauxbourg--Count Schoonbourn's
villa.
LET. VIII. _Vienna_.--Opera in the garden of the Favorita--
playhouse and representation of the story of
Amphitrion.
LET. IX. _Vienna_.--Dress of the ladies--Lady M's reception at
court--person of the empress--customs of the
drawing-room--the emperor--empress Amelia,--how seated
at table--maids of honour, their office and
qualifications--dressers--audience of the
empress-mother--her extraordinary piety--mourning dress
of the ladies at Vienna--audience of the empress
Amelia--shooting-match by ladies.
LET. X. _Vienna_.--Vienna a paradise for old women--different
acceptation of the word _reputation_ at London and at
Vienna--neither coquettes nor prudes at Vienna--every
lady possessed both of a nominal and real husband--
gallant overture to lady M. to comply with this custom.
LET. XI. _Vienna_--Phlegmatic disposition of the Austrians--
humorous anecdote of a contest upon a point of ceremony
--widows not allowed any rank at Vienna--pride of
ancestry--marriage portions limited--different
treatment of ambassadors and envoys at Court.
LET. XII. _Vienna_.--Dress and assemblies of the Austrian
ladies--gala days--convent of St Lawrence--wooden head
of our Saviour--dress of the Nuns--their amusements--
particulars concerning a beautiful Nun--reflections on
the monastic state, &c.
LET. XIII. _Vienna_.--Description of the emperor's repository.
LET. XIV. _From Prague_.--General state of Bohemia--Prague
described with reference to Vienna.
LET. XV. _From Leipzig_.--Dangerous journey from Prague to
Leipzig--character of Dresden--the Saxon and Austrian
ladies compared--anecdotes of the countess of Cozelle--
Leipzig and its fair described.
LET. XVI. _From Brunswick_.--Brunswick, for what considerable.
LET. XVII. _From Hanover_.--Bad regululations of the post in
Germany--character of the young prince (afterwards king
George II.)--short account of Hanover--view of the
country in travelling through Germany, compared with
England.
LET. XVIII. _Hanover_.--Description of the women at Hanover--the
traineaus or snow-sledges described--particulars of the
empress of Germany.
LET. XIX. _Blankenburg_.--Motive of Lady M's journey to
Blankenburg--her reception by the duchess of
Blankenburg--the description of Hanover continued--
perfection to which fruit is brought by means of stoves
at Herenhausen--recommendation of chamber-stoves.
LET. XX. _From Vienna_.--Diversions of the carnival--remarks on
the music and balls--the Italian comedy--the air and
weather at Vienna--the markets and provisions.
LET. XXI. _Vienna_.--Lady M's audience of leave--absurd taste for
dwarfs at the German courts--reflections on this taste
--remarks on the inhabitants of Vienna--a word or two
concerning prince Eugene, and the young prince of
Portugal.
LET. XXII. _Vienna_.--Reflections on her intended journey to
Constantinople.
LET. XXIII. _From Peterwaradin_.--Journey from Vienna hither--
reception at Raab--visit from the bishop of Temeswar,
with his character--description of Raab--its
revolutions--remarks on the state of Hungary, with the
Emperor Leopold's persecution of his protestant
Hungarian subjects--description of Buda--its
revolutions--the inhabitants of Hungary--Essec
described--the Hungarian ladies and their dress.
LET. XXIV. _From Belgrade_.--Character of the Rascian soldiers--
their priests--appearance of the field of Carlowitz,
after the late battle between prince Eugene and the
Turks--reception at, and account of Belgrade--the
murder of the late Bassa--character of Achmet Beg.
LET. XXV. _From Adrianople_.--Description of the deserts and
inhabitants of Servia--Nissa the capital--cruel
treatment of the baggage-carriers by the janizaries--
some account of Sophia--Philippopolis--fine country
about Adrianople.
LET. XXVI. _Adrianople_.--Entertaining account of the baths at
Sophia, and Lady M's reception at them.
LET. XXVII. _Adrianople_.--Why our account of the Turks are so
imperfect--oppressed condition of the Servians--teeth
money, what--character of the Turkish effendis--farther
particulars of Achmet Beg--Mahometism like
Christianity, divided into many sectaries--remarks on
some of their notions--religion of the Arnounts--
conjectures relating to Trajan's gate--present view of
the country.
LET. XXVIII. _From Adrianople_.--Marriage of the grand signior's
eldest daughter--the nature of the Turkish government--
grand signior's procession to mosque--his person
described--particulars relating to the French
ambassador's lady--character and behaviour of the
janizaries--the janizaries formidable to the seraglio.
LET. XXIX. _Adrianople_.--Lady M. describes her Turkish dress--the
persons and manners of the Turklsh ladies--their dress
when they go abroad--their address at intriguing--
possessed of more liberty than is generally imagined--
the plurality of wives allowed by the Koran seldom
indulged.
LET. XXX. _Adrianople_.--Manner in which the Turks pass their time
--the present pastoral manners of the Easterns, a
confirmation of the descriptions in the Grecian
poets--give great light into many scripture
passages--specimen of Turkish poetry--a version given
by Lady M. in the English style.
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