THE VICAR AT HOME.
Spring succeeded to winter, and summer to spring, without producing any
important change at Cartwright Park. Charles Mowbray requested and
obtained permission to continue his studies without interruption, and
for five months Helen and Rosalind lived upon his letters, which, spite
of all his efforts to prevent it, showed a spirit so utterly depressed
as to render them both miserable.
They seemed both of them to be converted into parts of that stately and
sumptuous machine which Mr. Cartwright had constructed around him, and
of which he was himself the main spring. The number of servants was
greatly increased, the equipages were much more splendid, and from an
establishment remarkably simple and unostentatious for the income of its
owners, the Park became one of the most magnificent in the country.
Among the periodical hospitalities with which the vicar,--for Mr.
Cartwright was still Vicar of Wrexhill,--among his periodical
hospitalities was a weekly morning party, which opened by prayers read
by his curate, and ended by a blessing pronounced by himself.
At about two o'clock a dejeuner a la fourchette was laid in the
dining-room, around which were discussed all the serious, and
serio-political, and serio-literary subjects of the day. On this
occasion the selection of company, though always pious, was not so
aristocratical as at the pompous dinners occasionally given at the Park.
But what was lost to vanity on one side by the unconspicuous rank of
some of the guests, was gained to it on the other by the profound
veneration for their host expressed in every word and in every look. Not
only Mr. Corbold, the lawyer,--who was indeed in some sort ennobled by
his relationship to the great man himself,--but the new curate, and the
new apothecary, and even the new schoolmaster, were admitted.
The company were always received by Mr. Cartwright and his lady in the
drawing-room, where all the family were expected (that is, commanded on
pain of very heavy displeasure) to assemble round them. The tables were
covered with bibles, tracts, Evangelical Magazines, sanctified drawings,
and missionary begging machines.
Hardly could Chivers, who was become an example to all serious butlers
in voice, in look, and in step, produce a more delightful sensation on
his master's organs by announcing my Lord This, or my Lady That, than
that master received from watching the reverential bows of the
sycophants who hung upon his patronage. A sort of frozen blandishment on
these occasions smoothed his proud face as he stood, with his lady
beside him, to receive them. The tall, obsequious curate, who hardly
dared to say his soul was his own, though he freely took upon himself to
pronounce the destiny of other people's, bent before him, lower than
mortal ever need bend to mortal; and he was rewarded for it by being
permitted to aspire to the hand of the only daughter of Mr. Cartwright,
of Cartwright Park. The little round apothecary, who by evangelical aid
withal had pushed out his predecessor as effectually as ever pellet did
pellet in a popgun, sighed, whined, bought tracts, expounded them,
kneeled down, though almost too fat to get up again, and would have done
aught else that to a canting doctor's art belongs so that it were not
physically impossible, for one sole object, which for some months past
had hardly quitted his thoughts by day or by night. This lofty object of
ambition and of hope was the attending the lady of Mr. Cartwright, of
Cartwright Park, at her approaching accouchement.
The new schoolmaster, who was already making hundreds where his
unprofessing predecessor made tens of pounds, was a huge, gaunt man, who
had already buried three wives, and who had besides, as he hoped and
believed, the advantage of being childless;--for he had always made it a
custom to quarrel early with his sons and daughters, and send them to
seek their fortune where they could find it;--this prosperous gentleman
actually and bona fide fell in love with Miss Torrington; and having
very tolerably good reasons for believing that there were few things at
Cartwright Park which might not be won by slavish obedience and canting
hypocrisy, he failed not to divide the hours during which he was weekly
permitted an entree there, between ogling the young lady, and
worshipping the master of the mansion.
Poor Rosalind had found means, after her dreadful scene with Mowbray,
secretly to convey a note to Sir Gilbert, informing him that she no
longer wished to change her guardian; as her doing so would not, she
feared, enable her to free Helen from her thraldom: she was still
therefore Mrs. Cartwright's ward, and the vicar had not yet quite
abandoned the hope that his talented son might obtain her and her
fortune; but hitherto Mr. Jacob had declined making proposals, avowing
that he did not think he was sufficiently advanced in the fair lady's
good graces to be quite sure of success. So, as no avowed claim had been
hitherto made to her hand, the schoolmaster went on ogling every
Wednesday morning, and dreaming every Wednesday night, unchecked by any:
for the fair object of his passion was perfectly unconscious of having
inspired it.
Mrs. Simpson, of course, never failed to embellish these morning
meetings with her presence when she happened to be in the country; but
she had lately left it, for the purpose, as it was understood, of making
a visit of a month or two to a distant friend, during which she had
intended to place her charming little Mimima at a boarding-school in a
neighbouring town; but Mr. Cartwright so greatly admired that sweet
child's early piety that he recommended his lady to invite her to pass
the period of her mamma's absence at Cartwright Park.
Then there were the Richards' family, who for various reasons were among
the most constant Wednesday visitors. Mrs. Richards came to see
Rosalind, little Mary to whisper good counsel to her friend Fanny, and
the two elder sisters to meet all the serious young men that the pompous
vicar could collect round him from every village or town in the
vicinity.
Besides these, there were many others, too numerous indeed to be
permitted a place in these pages, who came from far and near to pray and
to gossip, to eat and to drink, at Cartwright Park.
It happened at one of these meetings, about the middle of the month of
June, when the beauty of the weather had brought together rather a
larger party than usual, that a subject of great interest to the
majority of the company was brought under discussion by Mr. Cartwright.
No sooner had Mr. Samuel Hetherington, his curate, finished his prayer,
and such of the company risen from their knees as chose to come early
enough to take part in that portion of the morning's arrangements, than
the vicar opened the subject.
"My dear friends and neighbours," he said, "I have to communicate what I
am sure will give you all pleasure: for are we not a society united in
the Lord? Notwithstanding the little differences of station that may
perhaps exist among us, have we not all one common object in view? It is
for the furtherance of this divine object that I have now to mention to
you a circumstance at which my soul and the soul of Mrs. Cartwright
rejoice, and at which I am fully persuaded that your souls will rejoice
likewise."
This preface produced a movement of lively interest throughout the whole
room, and there was hardly a person present who did not eagerly
undertake to answer for the sympathy of his or her soul with those of
the vicar and his lady.
"Since we had the pleasure of seeing you last," resumed the vicar, "I
have received a despatch from the secretary of the South Central African
Bible Association, by which I learn that it is in contemplation to send
out to Fababo a remarkably serious young Jew, recently converted, as
missionary, and minister plenipotentiary in all spiritual affairs
relative to the church about to be established for Fababo and its
dependencies. But as you all well know that such a glorious enterprise
as this cannot be undertaken without funding and it has been requested
of me, in the despatch to which I have alluded, that I should exert such
little influence as I have among you, my dear friends and neighbours,
for the collecting a sum in aid of it, our good Mrs. Simpson's sweet
little cherub Mimima is furnished with a box, which she will carry round
as soon as the collation is ended, to petition your generous
contributions."
A murmur of approbation, admiration, and almost of adoration, burst from
the whole company, and the conversation immediately turned upon the
conversion of Jews, and the happiness of having found so very desirable
a mission for Mr. Isaacs. While the enthusiasm was at its height, Mrs.
Cartwright, having previously received a hint from her husband, proposed
that a serious fancy-fair should be held on that day month, on the lawn
before the drawing-room windows of Cartwright Park, for assisting the
outfit of Mr. Isaacs.
"If all the ladies present," continued Mrs. Cartwright, "and such of
their friends as they can prevail upon to join them, will only occupy
themselves during the ensuing month in the making of pincushions, the
composition of tracts, the sketching some dozens of Apostles' heads,
together with a few thousand allumettes and pen-wipers, we should, I
have no doubt, collect a sum not only very serviceable to the exemplary
Mr. Isaacs, but highly honourable to ourselves."
"Delightful!" cried several ladies at once. "There is nothing," said the
little girlish wife of a neighbouring curate, "that I dote upon like a
fancy-fair;--a serious fancy-fair, of course I mean, my dear," she
added, colouring, as she caught the eye of her alarmed young husband
fixed upon her.
"A serious fancy-fair for _such_ an object," observed Mr. Cartwright,
"is indeed a charming spectacle. If the Lord favours us by granting a
fine day, the whole of the ceremonies,--I mean, including the opening
prayers, the exposition of some chapters bearing upon the subject, the
reading a tract which I will direct my curate to compose for the
occasion, and the final blessing: all this, I think, if the weather
prove favourable, should be performed out of doors, as well as the sale
of the ladies' works. This, I question not, will produce a very imposing
effect, and will, I think, be likely to bring many persons who, by a
blessing upon our labours, may be induced to purchase. The elderly
ladies will of course sell the articles; and the younger ones, whose
piety will lead them to attend, may conceal themselves as much as
possible from the public eye, by walking about in my groves and
shrubberies, which shall be open for the occasion. It will be desirable,
I imagine, to get handbills printed, to invite the attendance of the
whole neighbourhood! Do you not think this will be advisable? I am sure
that no one can avoid every thing like general display and ostentation
more cautiously than I do; but I conceive this public announcement on
the present occasion absolutely necessary to the profitable success of
our endeavours."
"Absolutely!" was the word caught by echo for the reply.
"Have the goodness, Mr. Hetherington, to sit down at that small
table--you will there find all things needful for writing, and indite
the handbill that will be necessary for us. There is a warmth of feeling
at this blessed moment generated among us towards this holy work, which
it would be sin to neglect. Let it not, like those good feelings and
resolutions of which we have been told by the preacher, pass away from
us to pave the courts of hell, and be trodden under the feet of the
scorners who inhabit there. No, my brethren; let it rather rise like a
sweet savour of incense, to tell that not in vain do we pronounce His
name on earth!"
Before these words were all spoken, the assiduous curate was already
seated, pen in hand, as nearly as possible in the attitude of
Dominichino's St. John, and looking up to Mr. Cartwright for
inspiration.
In truth, the vicar, though the dignity of a secretary was in some sort
necessary to his happiness, would by no means have intrusted the
sketching out of this document to any hand but his own. He felt it to be
probable that it might become matter of history, and as such it demanded
his best attention. While Mr. Hetherington therefore sat with his pen
between his fingers, like a charged gun waiting for the pressure of the
finger that should discharge it, Mr. Cartwright, with the ready hand of
a master produced the following outline in pencil.
CARTWRIGHT PARK.
On Wednesday the 12th July, 1834,
will be held
a serious
FANCY FAIR,
on the lawn of the Rev. Mr. Cartwright's
Mansion,
at
Cartwright Park,
For the promotion of an object
most precious
in the eyes of all
PROFESSING CHRISTIANS:
namely,
The fitting out a mission to Fababo, of which the Rev. Isaac
Isaacs is to be the head and chief; to him being intrusted the
first formation of an organised Christian establishment for
FABABO
and its dependencies, together with the regulation of all adult
and infant schools therein, and the superintendance of all the
bible societies throughout the district.
LARGE FUNDS
being required for this very promising and useful mission, the
ladies and gentlemen in the neighbourhood of Cartwright
Park are religiously requested to attend the Serious Fancy
Fair hereby announced, both as contributors and purchasers;
whereby they will ensure the especial favour of Providence to
themselves, and the blessings of religious and civil freedom,
and the purest evangelical instruction, to unnumbered
THOUSANDS
yet unborn
of
the natives
of
FABABO.
N.B.--Collations will be served at three o'clock in five of the
principal saloons of Mr. Cartwright's mansion. Prayers to be
pronounced at one. Blessing (from the Reverend Mr. Cartwright
himself) at five.
The whole of the religious ceremonies to be performed in the
open air.
This sketch, as the inspired author called it, having been read aloud
and approved by acclamation, was delivered to the curate to copy; and as
soon as this was completed, Mr. Cartwright received it from him, and
holding it aloft in his right hand, pronounced aloud, in a very solemn
and impressive manner, these words: "May this service, dedicated to the
Lord, be found acceptable in his sight, and bring forth honour and glory
to us and to him in the world to come and the life everlasting. Amen."
This business happily completed, the religious amusements of the morning
continued to go on as usual;--Mr. Bateman, the enamoured schoolmaster,
constantly sitting, standing, and moving, with his eyes fixed on Miss
Torrington; and the despairing Corbold, whose six passionate proposals
had been six times formally refused by Helen, reposing himself on a sofa
in deep meditation on the ways and means by which he might so wheedle or
work himself into the secrets of his magnificent cousin as to make it
necessary for him to wink at any means by which he could get Helen into
his power, and so oblige her to marry him.
At length the elegant banquet drew the company from their tracts and
their talk to the dinner-parlour; and iced champagne refreshed the
spirits of all, but particularly of those exhausted by the zealous
warmth with which they had discussed the sinful adherence to good works
so frightfully prevalent among the unregenerated clergy of the Church of
England and Ireland. This was a theme upon which the majority of the
company at the Cartwright Park meetings never wearied.
At length, the final blessing was pronounced, the party separated, and
the tired family left to repose themselves as they best liked till the
hour of dinner.
The increasing delicacy of Miss Cartwright's health, and Rosalind's
drooping spirits, had prevented the intimacy between them from gaining
ground so rapidly as they had, perhaps, both expected, when the families
of the Park and Vicarage became blended into one. Yet it was evident
that Rosalind was the only person to whom the pale Henrietta ever wished
to speak, and equally so that Rosalind always listened to her with
interest.
They were mounting the stairs together after the company were dispersed,
when Henrietta said, "Are you not wearied to death by all this, Miss
Torrington? Oh, how you are changed since the time I told you that I had
pleasure in looking at your face! It was then the brightest looking
countenance I ever gazed upon: but now--to use the words of, I know not
whom--all the sunshine is out of you."
"It is a sorry compliment you pay me, my dear Henrietta; but I believe I
am not quite the same sort of person I was then." Tears started in her
eyes as she spoke.
"I have overheard painful comparisons, Miss Torrington, between times
past and present, and I am sorry for it. I really would not willingly
add to the sorrow and suffering my race has brought upon you. Do not go
and sit by yourself and weep till you are sick, as I have done many's
the time and oft. Let us take a very slow ramble into that very thickest
part of the Reverend Mr. Cartwright's shrubbery, where the sun never
enters--shall we? We are quite fine enough for such godly people,
without any more dressing for dinner. So we can sit in the shade till
the last bell rings."
"I should like nothing so well," replied Rosalind: and hastily skirting
the sunny lawn, they took their stations on a seat which the morning sun
visited as if on purpose to prevent its being dark and damp, but which
for the rest of the twenty-four hours remained almost as cool as if
there were no such globe in the heavens.
"We are growing very seriously gay, Rosalind,--are we not?" said
Henrietta in a lighter tone than she usually indulged in. "Fancy-fairs
used to be the exclusive property of the worldlings; but it seems that
we are now to come in for a share of their fraudulent charity,--and
their vain benevolence:--not a bad pun that, Rosalind, if I had but
intended to make one? But do tell me if you do not think Mr. Cartwright
has a magnificent taste?"
"Very--for a person who professes himself so given to the contemplation
of things above the world. But to tell you the truth, Henrietta, I am
much less surprised at the vain-glorious manner in which he displays
his newly-acquired riches, than at the continuance of his saintly
professions. I expected that the Vicarage of Wrexhill would have been
resigned, and all the world peaceably permitted to be just as wicked as
they liked, without Mr. Cartwright of Cartwright Park giving himself the
least trouble concerning it."
"You little know the nature of the clique to which he belongs. That they
value pleasure fully as much as other men, is quite certain; that they
struggle for riches with anxiety as acute, and hold it with a grasp as
tight, as any human beings can do, it were equally impossible to doubt:
but that power is dearer to them than either, is a truth well known to
all who have sat within the conventicle, and watched its professors, as
I have done."
"But how can a man so addicted to self-indulgence, as it is evident Mr.
Cartwright is, endure the sort of trouble which the charge of a living
must inevitably bring with it?--especially in the style so universally
practised, I believe, by all serious ministers--that of interfering with
the affairs of every individual in their parish."
"It is that interference that makes the labour a joy. But you are not
initiated, and cannot comprehend it. You do not, I am sure, conceive the
delight of feeling, that not a man or woman--not a boy or girl in the
parish either do, or leave undone, any single act of labour or of
relaxation, without thinking whether Mr. Cartwright would approve it.
And then, the dependence of so many on him for their daily bread!--the
curate, the clerk, the sexton, the beadle,--and the schoolmaster, and
the schoolmaster's assistant, and the apothecary, and the attorney, and
the undertaker, and--dozens of poor dependent simpletons besides, who,
if, like poor Seymour's organ-grinder, they "knew the walley of peace
and quiet," would run away to batten on the first moor they came to,
rather than endure the slavery of living dependent upon the favour of a
fanatical divine. Whatever it may be to them, however, depend upon it,
that to him, and the like of him, this petty power, this minute tyranny
of interference, is dearer than the breath of life; and that, much as
Mr. Cartwright loves his fair lady and all that belongs to her, he would
think that all still dearly purchased, were he thereby to lose the right
of entering every house in the parish, and unblushingly to ask them what
they have done, are doing, and are about to do."
The conversation then rambled on to all things connected with the
fancy-fair and its object, till they had talked themselves tired; and
then they sat silently watching the beautiful checker-work of light and
shade which fell on the grass-carpet before them, till the languid
Henrietta, resting her head against a tree, fell fast asleep. Rosalind
sat beside her for some minutes; but, growing weary of the extreme
stillness necessary to guard her slumbers, she quietly withdrew herself,
and wandered on under the trees.
Having left the sleeper for about half an hour, she turned to walk
gently back again; but fancying as she approached the spot that she
heard the sound of a man's voice, she slanted off by another path, which
took her close behind the seat occupied by Miss Cartwright, though a
thick trimly-cut laurel hedge rendered it impossible for any one to see
or be seen from the other.
The hedge, though a good one, had not however the same effect on sound
as on sight, and Rosalind was not a little startled, as her soft
footfall silently drew near the seat, to hear a very passionate
declaration of love in the drawling voice of Mr. Hetherington.
She stopped, by no means from any wish to hear more, but greatly
embarrassed lest, her step being heard, she might appear to have stolen
to this obscure spot for the express purpose of being a listener.
"Make me the happiest of men, adored Miss Cartwright!" reiterated the
young man. "Your father has permitted my addresses; then do not you,
most charming Henrietta, refuse to listen to them!"
"It would not be for your happiness, sir," replied the deep low voice of
Henrietta, "that I should do so."
"Let me be the judge of that! Oh! if such a fear be all that parts us,
we shall not, lovely Miss Cartwright! be long asunder," replied the
ardent Mr. Hetherington.
"I know myself, sir," said Henrietta, "far better than you can know me;
and though we have not been long acquainted, your situation as curate of
the parish enables me to know your sentiments and opinions better than
you can know mine. I hear you preach twice every Sunday, Mr.
Hetherington, and I do assure you there is not a single question of
importance on which we think alike."
"Name them, sweet Henrietta! generously tell me wherein we differ, and
trust me that it shall be the study of my life to bring my opinions into
conformity with yours."
"I heard you, in the middle of your sermon last Sunday, stop short to
scold a little boy who had accidentally made a noise by letting his hat
fall on the ground. You said to him, 'Before next Sunday you may be
brought into this church in your coffin.' I saw the little fellow turn
pale, yet you repeated the words. I really should not like to marry any
one who could so terrify little boys, for he might perhaps think it
right to terrify me also."
"Never--oh, never again will I so offend you: and for yourself, beloved
Miss Cartwright, what could I say to you but words of hope and joy?"
"Neither your joy nor your hope, Mr. Hetherington, would do me much
good, I am afraid. In one word, much as it will surprise you to hear it
from my father's daughter, I am not evangelical, sir."
"It is but a reason the more for my wishing to call you mine! If my
opinions are unsound, you shall correct them."
"I wish you would be persuaded, Mr. Hetherington, to desist from this
suit. I know that if my father has permitted it, I may find it become
very troublesome to me, unless you have yourself the generosity to
withdraw it; for my father does not brook contradiction."
"Ask any proof of my obedience but this, and you shall find me a slave,
having no will but that of my charming mistress; but to resign you while
I enjoy the inestimable privilege of your illustrious father's sanction,
it is impossible."
"Then, sir," said Henrietta, in an altered voice that betokened strong
emotion, "if nothing less will save me from this persecution, I will
disclose to you the great secret of my life; make of it what use you
will. I am an Atheist."
"Surely you cannot suppose, my beloved Miss Cartwright, that this
confession can produce any effect upon my love, unless indeed it be to
augment it. What noble frankness! what confiding trust! Believe me,
there can be no difference of opinion between us on any subject
sufficiently strong to conquer the tender and powerful passion you have
inspired. Yield then to the soft violence which I know will be
sanctioned by your respected father--let me thus----"
"Leave me, wretch!" exclaimed Henrietta in a voice that made Rosalind
tremble. "He may lock me up and half-starve me, for he has done it
before to make me obey his will, and I have obeyed it, and hated myself
for my cowardice; but I will not marry you, Mr. Hetherington, even
should he treat me worse than he has yet done--which would not be easy.
Go, sir, go--I am an Atheist; but horrible as that sounds even to my own
ears, it is better than to be what you have proved yourself."
Rosalind, hardly less agitated than Henrietta appeared to be, stood
trembling from head to foot in her retreat, till aware that the
unscrupulous Mr. Hetherington had retreated in one direction, and the
unhappy Henrietta returned to the house by another.