The Mysteries of Udolpho | Page 5

shade; while from the windows the eye caught,
beneath the spreading branches, the gay and luxuriant landscape
stretching to the west, and overlooked on the left by the bold precipices
of the Pyrenees. Adjoining the library was a green- house, stored with
scarce and beautiful plants; for one of the amusements of St. Aubert
was the study of botany, and among the neighbouring mountains,
which afforded a luxurious feast to the mind of the naturalist, he often
passed the day in the pursuit of his favourite science. He was
sometimes accompanied in these little excursions by Madame St.
Aubert, and frequently by his daughter; when, with a small osier basket
to receive plants, and another filled with cold refreshments, such as the
cabin of the shepherd did not afford, they wandered away among the
most romantic and magnificent scenes, nor suffered the charms of
Nature's lowly children to abstract them from the observance of her
stupendous works. When weary of sauntering among cliffs that seemed
scarcely accessible but to the steps of the enthusiast, and where no track
appeared on the vegetation, but what the foot of the izard had left; they
would seek one of those green recesses, which so beautifully adorn the
bosom of these mountains, where, under the shade of the lofty larch, or
cedar, they enjoyed their simple repast, made sweeter by the waters of
the cool stream, that crept along the turf, and by the breath of wild
flowers and aromatic plants, that fringed the rocks, and inlaid the grass.
Adjoining the eastern side of the green-house, looking towards the
plains of Languedoc, was a room, which Emily called hers, and which
contained her books, her drawings, her musical instruments, with some
favourite birds and plants. Here she usually exercised herself in elegant
arts, cultivated only because they were congenial to her taste, and in

which native genius, assisted by the instructions of Monsieur and
Madame St. Aubert, made her an early proficient. The windows of this
room were particularly pleasant; they descended to the floor, and,
opening upon the little lawn that surrounded the house, the eye was led
between groves of almond, palm-trees, flowering-ash, and myrtle, to
the distant landscape, where the Garonne wandered.
The peasants of this gay climate were often seen on an evening, when
the day's labour was done, dancing in groups on the margin of the river.
Their sprightly melodies, debonnaire steps, the fanciful figure of their
dances, with the tasteful and capricious manner in which the girls
adjusted their simple dress, gave a character to the scene entirely
French.
The front of the chateau, which, having a southern aspect, opened upon
the grandeur of the mountains, was occupied on the ground floor by a
rustic hall, and two excellent sitting rooms. The first floor, for the
cottage had no second story, was laid out in bed-chambers, except one
apartment that opened to a balcony, and which was generally used for a
breakfast-room.
In the surrounding ground, St. Aubert had made very tasteful
improvements; yet, such was his attachment to objects he had
remembered from his boyish days, that he had in some instances
sacrificed taste to sentiment. There were two old larches that shaded the
building, and interrupted the prospect; St. Aubert had sometimes
declared that he believed he should have been weak enough to have
wept at their fall. In addition to these larches he planted a little grove of
beech, pine, and mountain-ash. On a lofty terrace, formed by the
swelling bank of the river, rose a plantation of orange, lemon, and
palm-trees, whose fruit, in the coolness of evening, breathed delicious
fragrance. With these were mingled a few trees of other species. Here,
under the ample shade of a plane-tree, that spread its majestic canopy
towards the river, St. Aubert loved to sit in the fine evenings of summer,
with his wife and children, watching, beneath its foliage, the setting sun,
the mild splendour of its light fading from the distant landscape, till the
shadows of twilight melted its various features into one tint of sober

grey. Here, too, he loved to read, and to converse with Madame St.
Aubert; or to play with his children, resigning himself to the influence
of those sweet affections, which are ever attendant on simplicity and
nature. He has often said, while tears of pleasure trembled in his eyes,
that these were moments infinitely more delightful than any passed
amid the brilliant and tumultuous scenes that are courted by the world.
His heart was occupied; it had, what can be so rarely said, no wish for a
happiness beyond what it experienced. The consciousness of acting
right diffused a serenity over his manners, which nothing else could
impart to a man of moral perceptions like his, and which refined his
sense