Richard Lovell Edgeworth | Page 8

me the folly and meanness
of indulging a hopeless passion for any woman, let her merit be what it
might; declaring at the same time that he "never would marry so as to
divide himself from his chosen friend. Tell me," said he, "have you
sufficient strength of mind totally to subdue love that cannot be
indulged with peace, or honour, or virtue?"
'I answered that nothing but trial could make me acquainted with the
influence which reason might have over my feelings; that I would go
with my family to Lichfield, where I could be in the company of the
dangerous object; and that I would faithfully acquaint him with all my
thoughts and feelings. We went to Lichfield, and stayed there for some
time with Mr. Day. I saw him continually in company with Honora
Sneyd. I saw that he was received with approbation, and that he looked
forward to marrying her at no very distant period. When I saw this, I
can affirm with truth that I felt pleasure, and even exultation. I looked
to the happiness of two people for whom I had the most perfect esteem,
without the intervention of a single sentiment or feeling that could
make me suspect I should ever repent having been instrumental to their
union.'
Later on Mr. Day wrote a long letter to Honora, describing his scheme
of life (which was very peculiar), and his admiration for her, and asking
whether she could return his affections and be willing to lead the
secluded life which was his ideal. This letter he gave to Edgeworth to
deliver. 'I took the packet; my friend requested that I would go to the
Palace and deliver it myself. I went, and I delivered it with real
satisfaction to Honora. She desired me to come next morning for an

answer. ... I gave the answer to Mr. Day, and left him to peruse it by
himself. When I returned, I found him actually in a fever. The letter
contained an excellent answer to his arguments in favour of the rights
of men, and a clear, dispassionate view of the rights of women.
'Miss Honora Sneyd would not admit the unqualified control of a
husband over all her actions. She did not feel that seclusion from
society was indispensably necessary to preserve female virtue, or to
secure domestic happiness. Upon terms of reasonable equality she
supposed that mutual confidence might best subsist. She said that, as
Mr. Day had decidedly declared his determination to live in perfect
seclusion from what is usually called the world, it was fit she should
decidedly declare that she would not change her present mode of life,
with which she had no reason to be dissatisfied, for any dark and
untried system that could be proposed to her. . . . One restraint, which
had acted long and steadily upon my feelings, was now removed; my
friend was no longer attached to Miss Honora Sneyd. My former
admiration of her returned with unabated ardour. . . . This admiration
was unknown to everybody but Mr. Day; ... he represented to me the
danger, the criminality of such an attachment; I knew that there is but
one certain method of escaping such dangers --flight. I resolved to go
abroad.'
CHAPTER 3
Mr. Day and Edgeworth went to France, and the latter spent nearly two
years at Lyons, where his wife joined him. Here he found interest and
occupation in some engineering works by which the course of the
Rhone was to be diverted and some land gained to enlarge the city,
which lies hemmed in between the Rhone and the Saone. When the
works were nearly completed, an old boatman warned Edgeworth 'that
a tremendous flood might be expected in ten days from the mountains
of Savoy. I represented this to the company, and proposed to employ
more men, and to engage, by increased wages, those who were already
at work, to continue every day till it was dark, but I could not persuade
them to a sudden increase of their expenditure. . . . At five or six
o'clock one morning, I was awakened by a prodigious noise on the

ramparts under my windows. I sprang out of bed, and saw numbers of
people rushing towards the Rhone. I foreboded the disaster! dressed
myself, and hastened to the river. . . When I reached the Rhone, I
beheld a tremendous sight! All the work of several weeks, carried on
daily by nearly a hundred men, had been swept away. Piles, timber,
barrows, tools, and large parts of expensive machinery were all carried
down the torrent, and thrown in broken pieces upon the banks. The
principal part of the machinery had been erected upon an island
opposite the rampart; here there still remained