reason why I should not tell you all I know. And first you shall have
such information as I can give you respecting Madame de Lisle, who has
been rather abruptly introduced to your acquaintance in a letter from
Emily Douglas. The letter to which Miss Douglas refers, for the history
of Madame de Lisle, has been unfortunately lost; and you must therefore
be contented with such particulars as I have collected since I had the
pleasure of an introduction to her acquaintance. Mr. Otway one day saw
her so violently agitated by Stanley’s occasional mention of a person who
is a friend of his, and whose name is Alured, that he resolved at once on
removing his doubts relating to her parentage. Alured was a family name
in the pedigree to which he believed her to belong, and he was right.
He went alone to visit her, and soon discovered that she was indeed
Lady Laura Penshurst, the only surviving daughter of the proud and
pompous Earl of Alton, whose sister he had loved in early life, before
the “thick coming” honours of her house had tacked a title to her name.
This disclosure once made, Lady Laura took Mr. Otway at once into her
confidence, and told him that her mother, whose memory she adores, died
a few months ago in the south of France, having survived Lord Alton, to
whom no mortal could be attached, but three years. Her brother succeeded
to the title and estates, and enjoyed them but a very short time, when
he too was swept off the mortal stage, and they descended to an infant
who is the present Lord Alton. Disgusted with the world in which she
no longer possessed an object of affection, Lady Laura determined on
remaining abroad, assuming a name and style which should protect her from
curiosity, and ending her days where her mother’s remains were deposited.
Of our good friend, George Bentley, I have news which will probably
surprise you not a little. He often talked, during our rambles in
Switzerland, of taking up his abode in the midst of the romantic scenery
which had excited our admiration. His declarations were received as
the mere effusions of the moment, and we never believed him in earnest
until he seriously declared his determination to carry his project into
effect, and took decisive measures for the purpose. He went to Ireland,
made arrangements of his property, by which he provided for three or
four relations, who are all of his family that remain; settled an annual
bounty on the parish poor, annuities on the old retainers, left Mount
Prospect to be let by Mr. Oliphant, returned to Piémont, and was, ere
long, established in a cottage near Angrogna.
General Douglas, his sister, and Mr. Otway, exerted all their skill in
rhetoric to dissuade George from deserting his native country. They
represented most forcibly that inversion of mind by which people,
neglecting the good that lies within their grasp, bend all their
energies to distant objects. They endeavoured to convince him that so
much remained to be done at home, that it was criminal to quit the post
in which heaven had placed him, and yielding to a spirit of adventure,
instead of being governed by the sober desire of usefulness, prefer the
notoriety of this romantic scheme, to the less shewy, but more valuable
purpose of being a kind landlord, and a resident gentleman in his native
land.
Bentley’s principal fault is obstinacy, which he sometimes mistakes
for firmness. He had _determined_, and was ready with more fluency of
words, than depth of argument, to answer the reasoning of his friends.
“He thought that a _call_ should not be resisted. He considered the
remarkable chain of events which had brought him into the Vallies of
Piémont, as a providential appointment, a cord that drew him invisibly
forward to his true destiny.” In vain was it urged in reply, that _such_
arguments would legitimatize every absurd dereliction of duty, every wild
vagary of adventure; and were fantasies like these permitted to carry
conviction to the understanding, a country might be drained of all its
inhabitants who were capable of exerting beneficial influence within its
circuit, and the population be committed to anarchy and want.
Bentley remained fixed as a rock, and perhaps, secretly gloried in the
double character of martyr and missionary, since he now encountered what
he technically denominated “_persecution_.” To the Vallies he _would_
go, and perhaps the _real_ motive may never be fully revealed to his
own mind, though we lookers on could not help perceiving very clearly,
that the devoted and mutual attachment of Falkland and Emily Douglas,
had been the _true_ pivot on which his purposes turned. Love, in its
common acceptation, never found a place in Bentley’s breast. He never
knew what it was to be impelled either by ungovernable passion, which
hurries some to ruin and abasement; nor was his heart formed to those
all-powerful, but delicate sympathies, which though fine as threads of
gossamer, yet irresistibly entangle the affections, and produce entire
dependence for happiness on the reciprocal devotion of a beloved object.
No, Bentley had seen that men and women usually marry. He had therefore
contemplated marriage for himself. He saw children in most families, and
without loving them, he supposed that he should one day be a father, as
well as husband; but the utmost which his mind had ever accomplished
in reducing these wide abstractions and “loose generalities,” to any
practical bearing on his individual lot, was summed up in the following
hypothesis. “If I should ever think of engaging myself to any woman, and
resigning my present freedom, become a married man, I must endeavour to
select a suitable companion; money is a sordid motive, though it is a
necessary adjunct; beauty is a fading flower, yet the eye is fascinated
by its charms; intellect is inspiring, but it often leads to vanity;
religion is essential, but how do we know it to be sincere. If I _were_
to think of marrying, I wish that it might be to Emily Douglas; but would
she marry me?” These _ifs_ and _ands_, had been so often laid before the
imagination of George Bentley, that they became as habitual as breakfast,
dinner, and sleep, probably occupying at stated intervals that period
of _coma_, which intervenes between a full meal and a sound slumber,
till by daily recurrence of Emily’s image, he had marked her insensibly
for his own, and that too, without the slightest degree of personal
presumption either respecting his powers of pleasing, or her feelings
towards him. When, therefore, his eyes were first opened to the truth
that Emily loved, and was beloved by another, he woke, as from a dream.
He was astounded, puzzled. He felt unsettled, set adrift, or, perhaps
like an owl when it is suddenly brought into the sun’s light from the
tranquil shade of its ivied tower. At last, however, his mental optics
accommodated themselves to a new focus. He was no longer confused, and
his eyes were no longer dim. He then began to examine himself, and was
obliged to make the inward confession, that no one had injured him. He
was not in love. He had never given any one reason to suppose that he
felt more than friendship, and all the Douglas family treated him with
unvarying kindness and affection which had never passed that sober limit;
but things are not so easily settled with pride.
Bentley’s had in reality nothing to do in the matter, for _his_ had not
received offence, yet by some extraordinary fancy, he _did_ appear to
take umbrage at the attachment, which was evident; and he did so perhaps,
because he did not at first perceive it, and at the critical time of its
becoming manifest to his senses, the expedition to the Vallies, opened a
new vista to his mind, and gave an unexpected bias to his resolutions.
Frederick and I were hammering at something not far removed from this
statement, when Mr. Otway came into the room, and in five minutes drew up
the case as I have recorded it.
As time rolled on, the delightful mother of Emily Douglas, was called
upon to approve a union which cannot fail of happiness. Emily and Charles
Falkland are formed for each other. Virtue and talents lend all their
influence to lay a solid foundation, while the lighter graces which
belong to manners and accomplishments, give a finish to the charm that
binds them to each other. Simplicity is a decided characteristic of
both; and when the day arrived which General Douglas begged to hasten, in
order that he might bestow a blessing with ten thousand pounds, which he
presented to his niece there was no idle parade of dress and equipage.
Not a single preparation which had display for its object, or vanity
for its motive, marked this nuptial scene. It was the only marriage,
except her sister’s, at which Louisa Howard had ever assisted, and what
a contrast did it not present to the gorgeous folly of poor Adelaide’s
hymeneals? A short tour to Geneva, Lausanne and Vevay, separated the
Falklands but a little time from Turin, to which place they returned, and
the dying couch of a beloved uncle was attended with all the tenderness
which true affection can alone inspire. He lingered till winter had
clothed the Alps in a fresh mantle of snow, and breathed his last in the
arms of Frederick. Some months of repose were necessary to the shattered
health of Mrs. Douglas, and she preferred remaining in Switzerland till
the following spring, when the whole party arrived in safety at Marsden.
Though Emily’s marriage afforded a pretext for selling off the English
property according to the _letter_ of General Douglas’ will, his sister
considered that to delay its sale was more in agreement with the _spirit_
of his intentions, and she had consequently no hesitation in determining
that Frederick should try the experiment of remaining in Hampshire for
some time, while her son, implicitly relying on the counsels of his
mother, acquiesced with alacrity in whatever she thought right. Marsden
became the abode of whatever most exalts human nature, and the Douglas
family possess the art of rendering virtue and knowledge attractive in
such a degree, that their anxiety is to avoid, not to court acquaintance
with the great. Their society is universally sought after, and none can
exceed it.
Emily and her husband, as the _avant couriers_ of Mrs. Douglas,
accompanied Mr. Otway to Ireland, and have purchased Mount Prospect, to
which they have given its ancient Irish appellation of Cairndruid, and
which they are altering and beautifying, for their future home, when the
family of Glenalta shall return to their dearly-loved abode.
Mr. Oliphant, who is a perfect pattern of what every clergyman ought to
be, and aided in his pious labours by an excellent sister, lives but to
do good and make his parishioners happy. When he saw the circle of those
friends, so justly valued, once more in their accustomed places, his
glistening eye and uplifted hands seemed to say with old Simeon, “Let thy
servant now depart in peace.”
The Sandfords, Stanleys, Mrs. Fitzroy, and various other agreeable people
have had happy meetings at Marsden; and I will venture a prophecy, that
Frederick, who longs to regain his native shores, will one day prevail
upon the elegant Julia Sandford to bear him company thither. If strongly
tempted, too, to lay a wager, though I do not consider _bets_ to be the
most convincing arguments, I might be persuaded to risk a few pounds
upon the probability of two other matches, viz. one between Charlotte
Douglas and Algernon Stanhope, and the other between an elder brother of
Stanley’s and Louisa Howard. As to my own loves, if I have any, my dear
Reader, you cannot expect me to divulge them: “Sink or swim, I carry my
secrets with me,” which was the sagacious resolve of Mrs. Faulkner, wife
to the celebrated George, of editorial memory, who asked her, on her
death-bed, whether or not she had been a faithful _sposa_.
You will be glad to hear that Lawrence cleans the gravel walks still at
Glenalta, and is never weary of recounting stories to his young mistress
when she walks in the shrubbery, of all that had happened in her absence,
Lisfarne looks glad once more, and the Beacon Hill is burned to brown
from all the fires that have spread their glow over the beautiful bay
which it overlooks.
Aunt Douglas shall close my narrative: she is the centre round which
all these numerous rays converge, and the nearer they advance to her,
the more nearly do they approach each other. How can human beings unite
sincerely in loving the same object, and be at enmity amongst themselves?
It is impossible. A year’s probation has so assured this self-denying
mother that Marsden can never rival Glenalta in the hearts of her
children, that a treaty is now on foot for disposing of a place which
possesses no associations with past time to endear it to their memory.
Frederick remains to complete the contract, and has hopes of bringing
old Mr. Bolton with him to pay a visit in the Emerald Isle, which he has
never seen, while it has fallen to my happy lot to attend the homeward
bound group, Louisa making one of the party, and behold such joy as
language fails me to describe. The roads were lined with happy faces,
and welcome resounded from every mouth. Each step of the way produced
increasing interest, till, in that verandah where I first met her sweet
smile, I saw Glenalta’s guardian angel folded in the arms of her daughter.
Now, gentle reader, remember that it is not many years since I was
one of that heartless multitude who laugh at all that they either
do not comprehend, or that violates the rules which tyrant fashion
imposes on her worshippers. I am, therefore, prepared for a shower
of those epithets which I should once have liberally bestowed upon
a book compounded of such materials as I have employed in mine.
“Puerile”--“moral”--“prosy”--“dull,” are sounds familiar to my ear;
and if they should be applied to me by those who still belong to the
fraternity which I have quitted, I trust for ever, I must submit, yet
not without reminding them, that I held out no _false colours_. I warned
them of what was coming, and desired to be thrown aside at once by all
who opened my pages, in expectation of finding a Novel full of striking
events, or numerous incidents. I have been occupied in representing
domestic life, and giving peeps into real character, not in furnishing
scenes for the poet or the painter. But, though I am fully prepared
both for yawners and revilers, I dare to cherish a hope, that some of
those whose suffrage would repay me for a world of contumely, may find
amusement as well as truth in my sketches. Amongst the fair sex I ought
to be kindly received, for my anxious desire has been to assert their
claims; and by endeavouring to exorcise the demon of _Blueism_, restore
them to their just inheritance.
In order to this recovery of female birthright, I have attempted to
illustrate in the memoirs of the Douglas family, _that_ compatibility
so frequently denied between the highest intellectual attainment, and
the sweetest humility of heart I have tried to convince all who are
not wilfully blind, that we have still under other names, our Lady
Jane Greys, and Margaret Ropers, and that they can be as lovely and as
feminine at the present moment, as in the age when those bright examples
of excellence adorned society with their graces, virtues, and talents,
though living under the tyranny of arbitrary government, while ours is
the boasted æra of freedom, and “the _march_ of _mind_.” Whatever be my
fate, I must now bid you farewell. Even the kindest friends must part.
Adieu, then, my dear reader. May you and I shake hands in affectionate
brotherhood wherever we meet. If _you_ were always of opinion that
religion and virtue are indispensable to happiness; and that the most
agreeable people in the world may also be the best; you have an
advantage over me in never having strayed from the truth; but inasmuch
as I have erred, I am desirous to proclaim my recantation, and returning
to the nick-named Glenalta, lay down the follies of my youth, and sign
myself a sincere and penitent convert.
ARTHUR HOWARD.
THE END.
PRINTED BY J. B. NICHOLS, 25, PARLIAMENT STREET.
ERRATA.
Transcriber’s Note: the errata in the present (third) volume have been
corrected (along with numerous errors not in this list). Those wishing to
apply corrections to the first and second volumes should note that the
page and line references given here are not always entirely accurate.
FIRST VOLUME.
Line 6, page 15, read fitting for filling.--l. 9, p. 21, _Serborian_
for Terborian.--l. 16, p. 30, selectæ for selecta.--l. 20, p. 33,
confoundedly for confounded.--l. 23, p. 37, had for has.--p. 101, we
for _We_. dele full stop.--l. 13, p. 106, insert _and_.--l. 17, p. 181,
a for to.--l. 22, p. 182, alteratives for alterations.--l. 16, p. 189,
it for I.--l. 11, p. 204, guileless for guiltless.--l. 17, p. 214,
distinguish for distinguishes.--l. 4, p. 215, induce a for I--l. 7. p.
216, _cacciata_ for _caciata_, and _fugge_ for _fuge_.--l. 4, p. 218, for
be exact, in exact.--l. 5, p. 238, retired for refined.--l. 1. p. 244,
fully for full.--l. 12, p. 245, inanity for vanity.--l. 7, p. 256, full
stop after _time_.--l. 13, p. 256, agreeably for agreeable.--l. 17, p.
276, give for gives.--l. 22, p. 292, facilities for facility.--l. 1, p.
315, lose for loose.
SECOND VOLUME.
Line 18, p. 130, for they not, read they are not.--l. 1, p. 131, for
where once, where she once;--l. 15, p. 156, insert _and_, and dele _and_
in the next line.--l. 12, p. 165, erase _the_.--l. 6, p. 181, Ronayne’s
for Ronayve’s.--l. 7, p. 181, Ture for Lure.--l. 4, p. 186, we for
he.--l. 10, p. 219, insert _in_ after imagery.--l. 9, p. 241, erase
the.--l. 6, p. 243, Causer for Cosé.--l. 24, p. 246, and for I.--l. 23,
p. 253, insert Frederick.--l. 18, p. 303, bringing for bring.
THIRD VOLUME.
Line 19, page 44, read sometimes for something.--l. 13, p. 71, you for
your.--l. 12, p. 77, Benefico (_the good giant_) for benefice.--l. 10,
p. 84, fact for facts.--l. 19, p. 93, Bayle for Boyle.--l. 24, p. 95,
before all, insert _it_.--l. 7, p. 120, bewildering for bewildered,
we for be.--l. 20, p. 143, forces for foces.--l. 13, p. 195, Sully
for Tully.--l. 1, p. 201, truly for happy.--l. 11, p. 228, erase “the
particulars.”
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