Julia_Chapter_11

chapter eleventh--101 Julia's favorable sentiments of Madam Luneville, being thus, comfirmed by the opinions of a friend, on whose judgements she had an implicit reliance, she again yielded her feelings and her conduct to the control of this dangerous woman. She once more reperused the letter which had occasioned such various and contradictary sensations, which had even excited vague and undefined suspicions of the sincerity of Madam Lunveville's friendship and the rectitude of her principles. On this { ?} all the uneasiness and perplexity vanished. D'aubigne had applauded Madam Lunvillle's prudence and correctness of mind, and she, yes, she must have been mistaken. "I am as my friend says," thought Julia, more child in my knowledge of the world, unable to go alone, I shall be far safer if guided by me to whom all its intricacies and difficulties are known. Under the inflence of these new impressions, she took up her pen and thus wrote to that Lady. As usual dearest Celestine, you came, you saw, you conquered, and on this occasion your victory was more glorious than common, for you not only gained esteem, but conquered prejudice; for I will not conceal from you, that some how or other D'aubigne had conceived some unfavorable prejudice against my friend; which I had{ easily?} combatted. In one evening your merit, did more than my eloquence could have ever done. In truth my Celestine you are irresistible -- a fact I have learned from my own experience. Like a child conducted by its nurse, how often have I struggled to go now this, now that way and to break from the leading strings, by which I was finally led along the path at the nun's pleasure. Celestine--Celestine, take care whether you had one, who thus implicitly yields to your guidance! I am in a dangerous strait. Celestine, between { ?} and { ?} the pen my pilot. The ruin and disgrace of my husband on one hand. The ruin and misery of my children on the other. I must encounter one or other of dreadful evils, or escape from both by means which are full of danger. Oh my friend do not deceive me! you assure me, positively assure me that no sacrifice of virtue--of duty will be necessary. That this cruel{ encounter?} will be appeased by civility and kindness: that he will urge on claims which it would be dishonorable in me to allow. Remember then, and let it be clearly understood, and implicitly complied with, he is to be received as a friend--and only as a friend. Should he violate this article of our treaty--I shall hold myself absolved from the compact.--Clifton, {removed?} from the immediate { ?} of debt- from his distracting embarrassments

will, you say, return to the home from whence he has so long and so cruelly absented himself. Oh Celestine why can I not receive him as I would have received him but a few days since. Why does not my heart open to receive the dear wanderer--for such he was, in spite of all his neglect and unkindness. But now I feel as if that heart was closed, never again to open to those kindly and forgiving feelings which have so long kept alive my affection for my husband. What then, is offended pride, more enexorable than offended love? And am I of a proud and vindictive temper? --I whom you have so often called the most humble and placable of human beings. You, who have studied and anatomized the human heart, do you explain this to me. I have endevoured to { ?} myself into a forgiveness of my husband. In vain, that proposition at which you say I was "unnecessarily shocked," has broken the tie which bound me to him--an { ?} the tenderness of a fond and almost broken heart and filled my bosom with an unconquerable resentment, contempt and disgusts. What! would he have reprieved his honor by the sacrifice of my honor? Cowardly, selfish--base!--Oh- Celestine compared to these dispiccable traits of character, his love of pleasure, seems almost a virtue. Noble sentiments, generous dispositions and ardent affections have been often led into the excesses of sensual pleasure and in spite of his inconstancy--I still loved my husband and with open arms would have welcomed the repentant prodigal home. But noble sentiments--generous dispositions--ardent affections--are incompatible with baseness and selfishness. The tie is broken Celestine--I have no longer a husband. But even yet--I will receive the Father of my children--altho' my heart is closed--his home is open to receive him, and I shall now do from a principle of duty, what I should once have done from a sentiment of affection--Endeavour to make his house agreeable to him and thus to wean him from the resorts of vice.--But to succeed in this, dear Celestine, I depend more on you than on myself--Come then , and while you soothe my too weak { } sorrows, entice by your charming powers the wanderer home.----Julia

This letter was even beyond Madam Luneville"s most sanguine hopes. Every obstacle seemed to yield to her daring of fertile genius--Capt Mirvan admitted

Clifton returned home--this last event--which at first sight seemed to threaten the overthrow of all her schemes, even this in Julia's present disposition would turn out more favourable to her wishes, than any prospect she could herself have designed. Clifton arrived from duty and not from force-treated with haughtiness, coldness--contempt--While she was called on to soothe the sighs, and charm the husband. "Exactement, exactement," exclaimed Madam Luneville--"proving what I wished!-A charming quartetto we shall make. A quartetto indeed!.-plague on that D'aubigne, we must get rid of him or he will {affront?} all. We'll see---we'll see--I have had to deal with animals more incompatable than young Philosopher--I could lead twenty of these sentimental enthusiasts with more ease than one such clear righted, practical fellow as Mirvan." She immediately dispatched a billet, ending Julia's long confidential letter, to Capt Mirvan. The rightly conjecture it would enable him to out his first better than the most elaborate instructions she could give. As for Clifton whose awakened { ?} and angry spirit she had easily appeased, she expected him in evening and waited till then to arrange her plans. Then indulging herself in imagining new schemes, she {haltingly?} { exaltingly?} exclaimed, as she {apported?} actions to the actors of her niece. "Puppets--more puppets--I hold the wives, for I control the passions which put them in motion and they shall move just as I please." The next morning she received the following answer from Capt Mirvan. What a divine creature Julia Clifton is!--what charming modesty--what amiable dignity--what noble pride--what these sensibility surround and guard the heart (the virtue of your { ?}) of this angelic woman.--But so much the better-the prise that is easily won, is valued--What glory is there in conquering a { ?} which surrender at the first summons?--No-No, we should never have heard so much of Troy, had it not { ?{ the { ?} a ten years siege. You suppose ma chere amie constitutes the delights of the Chase? the game? Not at all, for the moment he gets possession of { ?}, the huntsman throws him to the dogs. No ma chere amie, it is the danger, the difficulties, the aftermath hopes and fears--the strong excitement, the animation - the glow which puts the blood in gaudier circulation and accelerates the {sprints?}--It is in one word, pursuit--and not possession, that gives all its charm to the chase.

see the Huntman when the pursuit is over-when the game is won-see him careless and indifferent-turn from it to seek animation and pleasure in other objects. Thus my chere amie, instead of being disheartened, I am quite charmed with the impediments and difficulties beset my path--They will prolong my pleasures; for I am just as sure when{, tied? tired} with these pleasing difficulties, to { ?} the object of my wishes, as the cat is who plays with the mouse before she eats it. For after all, Julia Clifton is too sensible a woman to suppose a man admitted { in, on ?} the terms I am and after such a declaration as I have made-is to always play the part of l'ami de Maison--The stipulations of this treaty, are like those of all other treaties-appearing one thing and meaning another--friendship! pure platonic affection! fine things indeed--they sound quite angelic, but { ?} very well for mortals, yea verily very much for even such un pauvne diable or myself. For my part I wish nothing more of your lovely sexbut a sweet girl, call} me her friend--her brother, and talk of her pure platonic affection--I shall get as much as the fondest lover ever { ?}. You do not deserve it--yet I have a great mind to tell you a most important and precious secret--one that were it to bought -- you are not rich enough to purchase-It is this; that modesty and { ?} constitute the greatest sham of your sex, not only in the eye of good, pious folks, but in the eyes even of the greatest libertine--The most mercenary courtesan were she to consult why her interest would form that modesty and { ?} would be more profitable, than all her wanton and { ?} {acts?}.

This letter of Captain Mirvan, tho' written by a { ?} Libertine, contained many truths, which are worthy to be studied by any woman. His observation on Mrs Clifton, was perfectly just, a woman who admits the visits, on any pretence whatever with her duty, always endangers and too often loses the virtue, that she believed secure, tho' threathened. But Julia thought not thus--she trusted too securely in her person to modify and restrain the sentiments of Capt Mirvan and had often said "a woman's virtue was in her own keeping and could not be consequenced without her own consent." Perhaps she was even pleased in submitting to this trial of her strength, "for", thought Julia, "what Ninon del'Encles says is certainly true--no woman is virtuous who has not triumphed over temptation", I now can feel assured of my own virtue, unless it has been put to the { ?} I can see no danger to my self, for even if I loved this man, I feel within me, reverence and love for virtue, which would enable me successfully to reset the feelings a too tender heart- yes, honor, is dearer to me than life--I have survived wounded affection--but never could I surmise a blasted reputation. With such feelings, I am in no danger, from a man to whom I am indifferent, and while I save Clifton from ruin--strong in virtuous feeling--firm in victurous purpose-- I will do so save him, without endangering myself. Fatal security! which has proved the ruin of so many dispairing and dishonored victims.--Fatal security, which unmindful of the outworks, allows them to be broken down with impunity ,trusting to the strength of the Citadel garrison, thus deprived of its strongest defense. Rather for credulous and tender beings, rather distract your own strength, in such a case terrible will be your