our village-第3部分

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In　1814　Miss　Mitford　is　living　on　still　with　her　parents　at　Bertram　House；　but　a　change　has　come　over　their　home；　the　servants　are　gone；　the　gravel　turned　to　moss；　the　turf　into　pasture；　the　shrubberies　to　thickets；　the　house　a　sort　of　new　'ruin　half　inhabited；　and　a　Chancery　suit　is　hanging　over　their　heads。'　　Meantime　some　news　comes　to　cheer　her　from　America。　　Two　editions　of　her　poems　have　been　printed　and　sold。　　'Narrative　Poems　on　the　Female　Character'　proved　a　real　success。　　'All　who　have　hearts　to　feel　and　understandings　to　discriminate；　must　wish　you　health　and　leisure　to　complete　your　plan；'　so　write　publishers　in　those　golden　days；　with　complimentary　copies　of　the　work。　。　。　。

Great　things　are　happening　all　this　time；　battles　are　being　fought　and　won；　Napoleon　is　on　his　way　to　St。　Helena；　London　is　in　a　frenzy　of　rejoicings；　entertainings；　illuminations。　　To　Mary　Mitford　the　appearance　of　'Waverley'　seems　as　great　an　event　as　the　return　of　the　Bourbons；　she　is　certain　that　'Waverley'　is　written　by　Sir　Walter　Scott；　but　'Guy　Mannering；'　she　thinks；　is　by　another　hand：　her　mind　is　full　of　a　genuine　romantic　devotion　to　books　and　belles　lettres；　and　she　is　also　rejoicing；　even　more；　in　the　spring…time　of　1816。　　Dr。　Mitford　may　be　impecunious　and　their　affairs　may　be　threadbare；　but　the　lovely　seasons　come　out　ever　in　fresh　beauty　and　abundance。　　The　coppices　are　carpeted　with　primroses；　with　pansies　and　wild　strawberry　blossom；the　woods　are　spangled　with　the　delicate　flowers　of　the　woodsorrel　and　wood　anemone；　the　meadows　enamelled　with　cowslips。　。　。　。　　Certainly　few　human　beings　were　ever　created　more　fit　for　this　present　world；　and　more　capable　of　admiring　and　enjoying　its　beauties；　than　Miss　Mitford；　who　only　desired　to　be　beautiful　herself；　she　somewhere　says；　to　be　perfectly　contented。

III。

Most　people's　lives　are　divided　into　first；　second　and　third　volumes；　and　as　we　read　Miss　Mitford's　history　it　forms　no　exception　to　the　rule。　　The　early　enthusiastic　volume　is　there；　with　its　hopes　and　wild　judgments；　its　quaint　old…fashioned　dress　and　phraseology；　then　comes　the　second　volume；　full　of　actual　work　and　serious　responsibility；　with　those　childish　parents　to　provide　for；　whose　lives；　though　so　protracted；　never　seem　to　reach　beyond　their　nurseries。　　Miss　Mitford's　third　volume　is　retrospective；　her　growing　infirmities　are　courageously　endured；　there　is　the　certainty　of　success　well　earned　and　well　deserved；　we　realise　her　legitimate　hold　upon　the　outer　world　of　readers　and　writers；　besides　the　reputation　which　she　won　upon　the　stage　by　her　tragedies。

The　literary　ladies　of　the　early　part　of　the　century　in　some　ways　had　a　very　good　time　of　it。　　A　copy　of　verses；　a　small　volume　of　travels；　a　few　tea…parties；　a　harp　in　one　corner　of　the　room；　and　a　hat　and　feathers　worn　rather　on　one　side；　seemed　to　be　all　that　was　wanted　to　establish　a　claim　to　fashion　and　inspiration。　　They　had　footstools　to　rest　their　satin　shoes　upon；　they　had　admirers　and　panegyrists　to　their　heart's　content；　and　above　all　they　possessed　that　peculiar　complacency　in　which　（with　a　few　notable　exceptions）　our　age　is　singularly　deficient。　　We　are　earnest；　we　are　audacious；　we　are　original；　but　we　are　not　complacent。　　THEY　were　dolls　perhaps；　and　lived　in　dolls'　houses；　WE　are　ghosts　without　houses　at　all；　we　come　and　go　wrapped　in　sheets　of　newspaper；　holding　flickering　lights　in　our　hands；　paraffin　lamps；　by　the　light　of　which　we　are　seeking　our　proper　sphere。　　Poor　vexed　spirits！　　We　do　not　belong　to　the　old　world　any　more！　　The　new　world　is　not　yet　ready　for　us。　　Even　Mr。　Gladstone　will　not　let　us　into　the　House　of　Commons；　the　Geographical　Society　rejects　us；　so　does　the　Royal　Academy；　and　yet　who　could　say　that　any　of　their　standards　rise　too　high！　　Some　one　or　two　are　happily　safe；　carried　by　the　angels　of　the　Press　to　little　altars　and　pinnacles　all　their　own；　but　the　majority　of　hard…working；　intelligent　women；　'contented　with　little；　yet　ready　for　more；'　may　they　not　in　moments　of　depression　be　allowed　to　picture　to　themselves　what　their　chances　might　have　been　had　they　only　been　born　half　a　century　earlier？

Miss　Mitford；　notwithstanding　all　her　troubles　（she　has　been　known　to　say　she　had　rather　be　a　washerwoman　than　a　literary　lady）；　had　opportunities　such　as　few　women　can　now　obtain。　　One　is　lost　in　admiration　at　the　solidity　of　one's　grandparents'　taste；　when　one　attempts　to　read　the　tragedies　they　delighted　in；　and　yet　'Rienzi'　sold　four　thousand　copies　and　was　acted　forty…five　times；　and　at　one　time　Miss　Mitford　had　two　tragedies　rehearsed　upon　the　boards　together；　one　at　Covent　Garden　and　one　at　Drury　Lane；　with　Charles　Kemble　and　Macready　disputing　for　her　work。　　Has　not　one　also　read　similar　descriptions　of　the　triumphs　of　Hannah　More；　or　of　Johanna　Baillie；　cheered　by　enthusiastic　audiences；　while　men　shed　tears。*

*Mem。　Hannah　More；　v。i。　p。124。

'Julian'　was　the　first　of　Miss　Mitford's　acted　plays。　　It　was　brought　out　at　Covent　Garden　in　1823；　when　she　was　thirty…six　years　old；　Macready　played　the　principal　part。　　'If　the　play　do　reach　the　ninth　night；'　Miss　Mitford　writes　to　Macready；　'it　will　be　a　very　complete　refutation　of　Mr。　Kemble's　axiom　that　no　single　performer　can　fill　the　theatre；　for　except　our　pretty　Alfonso　（Miss　Foote）　there　is　only　Julian；　one　and　only　one。　　Let　him　imagine　how　deeply　we　feel　his　exertions　and　his　kindness。*。　。　。'

*In　Macready's　diary　we　find　an　entry　which　is　not　over　gracious。　'〃Julian〃　acted　March　the　15th。　　Had　but　moderate　success。　　The　C。　G。　company　was　no　longer　equal　to　the　support　of　plays　containing　moral　characters。　　The　authoress　in　her　dedication　to　me　was　profuse　in　her　acknowledgments　and　compliments；　but　the　performance　made　little　impression；　and　was　soon　forgotten。'

'Julian'　was　stopped　on　the　eighth　night；　to　her　great　disappointment；　but　she　is　already　engaged　on　anotheron　several　more…tragedies；　she　wants　the　money　badly；　for　the　editor　of　her　magazine　has　absconded；　owing　her　50　pounds。　　Some　trying　and　bewildering　quarrel　then　ensues　between　Charles　Kemble　and　Macready；　which　puts　off　her　tragedies；　and　sadly　affects　poor　Miss　Mitford's　nerves　and　profits。　　She　has　one　solace。　　Her　father；　partly　instigated；　she　says；　by　the　effect　which　the　terrible　feeling　of　responsibility　and　want　of　power　has　had　upon　her　health　and　spirits；　at　last　resolves　to　try　if　he　can　HIMSELF　obtain　any　employment　that　may　lighten　the　burthen　of　the　home。　　It　is　a　good　thing　that　Dr。　　Mitford　has　braced　himself　to　this　heroic　determination。　　'The　addition　of　two　or　even　one　hundred　a　year　to　our　little　income；　joined　to　what　I　am；　in　a　manner；　sure　of　gaining　by　mere　industry；　would　take　a　load　from　my　heart　of　which　I　can　scarcely　give　you　an　idea。　。　。　　even　〃Julian〃　was　written　under　a　pressure　of　anxiety　which　left　me　not　a　moment's　rest。　。　。　。'　　So　she　fondly　dwells　upon　the　delightful　prospects。　　Then　comes　the　next　letter　to　Sir　William　Elford；　and　we　read　that　her　dear　father；　'relying　with　a　blessed　sanguineness　on　my　poor　endeavours；　has　not；　I　believe；　even　inquired　for　a　situation；　and　I　do　not　press　the　matter；　though　I　anxiously　wish　it；　being　willing　to　give　one　more　trial　to　the　theatre。'

On　one　of　the　many　occasions　when　Miss　Mitford　writes　to　her　trustee　imploring　him　to　sell　out　the　small　remaining　fragment　of　her　fortune；　she　says；　'My　dear　father　has；　years　ago；　been　improvident；　is　still　irritable　and　difficult　to　live　with；　but　he　is　a　person　of　a　thousand　virtues。　。　。　　there　are　very　few　half　so　good　in　this　mixed　world；　it　is　my　fault　that　this　money　is　needed；　entirely　my　fault；　and　if　it　be　withheld；　my　dear　father　will　be　overthrown；　mind　and　body；　and　I　shall　never　know　another　happy　hour。'

No　wonder　Mr。　Harness；　who　was　behind　the　scenes；　remonstrated　against　the　filial　infatuation　which　sacrificed　health；　sleep；　peace　of　mind；　to　gratify　every　passing　whim　of　the　Doctor's。　　At　a　time　when　she　was　sitting　up　at　night　and　slaving；　hour　after　hour；　to　earn　the　necessary　means　of　living；　Dr。　Mitford　must　needs　have　a　cow；　a　stable；　and　dairy　implements　procured　for　his　amusement；　and　when　he　died　he　left　1；000　pounds　of　debts　for　the　scrupulous　woman　to　pay　off。　　She　is　determined　to　pay；　if　she　sells　her　clothes　to　do　so。　　Meanwhile；　the　Doctor　is　still　alive；　and　Miss　Mitford　is　straining　every　nerve　to　keep　him　so。　　She　is　engaged　（in　strict　confidence）　on　a　grand　historical　subject；　Charles　and　Cromwell；　the　finest　episode　in　English　history；　she　says。　　Here；　too；　fresh　obstacles　arise。　　This　time　it　is　the　theatrical　censor　who　interferes。　　It　would　be　dangerous　for　the　country　to　touch　upon　such　topics；　Mr。　George　Colman　dwells　upon　this　theme；　although　he　gives　the　lady　full　credit　for　no　evil　intentions；　but　for　the　present　all　her　work　is　again　thrown　away。　　While　Miss　Mitford　is　struggling　on　as　best　she　can　against　this　confusion　of　worries　and　difficulty　（she　eventually　received　2OO　pounds　for　'Julian'　from　a　Surrey　theatre）；　a　new　firm　'Whittaker'　undertakes　to　republish　the　'village　sketches'　which　had　been　written　for　the　absconding　editor。　The　book　is　to　be　published　under　the　title　of　'Our　Village。'

IV。

'Are　your　characters　and　descriptions　true？'　somebody　once　asked　our　authoress。　　'Yes；　yes；　yes；　as　true；　as　true　as　is　well　possible；'　she　answers。　　'You；　as　a　great　landscape　painter；　know　that　in　painting　a　favourite　scene　you　do　a　little　embellish　and　can't　help　it；　you　avail　yourself　of　happy　accidents　of　atmosphere；　if　anything　be　ugly　you　strike　it　out；　or　if　anything　be　wanting；　you　put　it　in。　But　still　the　picture　is　a　likeness。'

So　wrote　Miss　Mitford；　but　with　all　due　respect　for　her　and　for　Sir　William　Elford；　the　great　landscape　painter；　I　cannot　help　thinking　that　what　is　admirable　in　her　book；　are　not　her　actual　descriptions　and　pictures　of　intelligent　villagers　and　greyhounds；　but　the　more　imaginative　things；　the　sense　of　space　and　nature　and　progress　which　she　knows　how　to　convey；　the　sweet　and　emotional　chord　she　strikes　with　so　true　a　touch。　　Take　at　hazard　her　description　of　the　sunset。　How　simple　and　yet　how　finely　felt　it　is。　　Her　genuine　delight　reaches　us　and　carries　us　along；　it　is　not　any　embellishing　of