"The trial was too great for the softness of a heart like mine; I had almost conquered my own passion, when I became a victim to his."

— Brooke [née Moore], Frances (bap. 1724, d. 1789)


Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for R. and J. Dodsley
Date
1763
Metaphor
"The trial was too great for the softness of a heart like mine; I had almost conquered my own passion, when I became a victim to his."
Metaphor in Context
My Emily, your friend, your unhappy Julia, is undone. He knows the tenderness which I have so long endeavored to conceal. The trial was too great for the softness of a heart like mine; I had almost conquered my own passion, when I became a victim to his: I could not see his love, his despair, without emotions which discovered all my soul: I am not formed for deceit: artless as the village maid, every sentiment of my soul is in my eyes; I have not learnt, I will never learn to disguise their expressive language. With what pain did I affect a coldness to which I was indeed a stranger! But why do I wrong my own heart? I did not affect it. The native modesty of my sex gave a reserve to my behavior, on the first discovery of his passion, which his fears magnified into hate. O, Emily! Do I indeed hate him! you to whose dear bosom your Julia confides her every thought, tell me if I hate this most amiable of mankind? You know by what imperceptible steps my inexperienced heart has been seduced to love: you know how deceived by the sacred name of friendship--But why do I seek to excuse my sensibility? Is he not worthy all my tenderness? are we not equal in all but wealth, a consideration below my care? is not his merit above titles and riches? How shall I paint his delicacy, his respectful fondness? Too plainly convinced of his power over my heart, he disdains to use that power to my disadvantage; he declares he will never receive me but from my father, he consents to leave me till a happier fortune enables him to avow his love to all the world; he goes without asking the least promise in his favor. Heaven sure will prosper his designs, will reward a heart like his. O, my Emily, did my father see with my eyes! what is fortune in the ballance with such virtue! Had I worlds in my own power, I should value them only as they enabled me to show more strongly the disinterestedness of my affection.
(I, pp. 199-201)
Provenance
Searching "conque" and "heart" in HDIS (Prose); found again searching "conque" and "passion"
Citation
At least 10 entries in the ESTC (1763, 1765, 1767, 1769, 1773, 1775, 1782, 1788). [4th edition in 1765, 5th edition in 1769.]

See Frances Brooke, The History of Lady Julia Mandeville. In Two Volumes. By the Translator of Lady Catesby's Letters. (London: Printed for R. and J. Dodsley, 1763). <Link to ECCO-TCP><Link to ECCO>
Date of Entry
09/29/2004

The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.