MADNESS.
FLITYVILLE, _March 20_.
As the event which I am about to recount forms the turning-point of my
life--unless, indeed, something still more remarkable happens, which I
do not at present foresee, to turn me back again--I do not feel that it
would be either becoming, or indeed possible, for me to maintain that
vein of easy cheerfulness which has characterised my composition
hitherto. What is fun to you, O my reader! may be death to me; and
nothing can be further from my intention than to excite the smallest
tendency to risibility on your part at my misfortunes or trials. You
will already have guessed what these are; but how to recur to those
agonising details, how to present to you the picture of my misery in its
true colours,--nothing but the stern determination to carry out my
original design, and the conscientious conviction that "the story of my
life from month to month" may be made a profitable study to my
fellow-men, could induce me in this cold-blooded way to tear open the
still unhealed wound.
I came down to breakfast rather late on the morning following the events
narrated in the last chapter. Broadhem and Grandon had already vanished
from the scene; so had Mr Wog, who went up to town to see what he called
"the elephant,"--an American expression, signifying "to gain experience
of the world." The phrase originated in an occurrence at a menagerie,
and as upon this occasion Mr Wog applied it to the opening of
Parliament, it was not altogether inappropriate. I found still lingering
over the _debris_ of breakfast my host and hostess, Lady Broadhem and
her daughters, the Bishop and Chundango. The latter appeared to be
having all the talk to himself, and, to give him his due, his
conversation was generally entertaining.
"My dear mother," he was saying, "still unconverted, has buried all my
jewellery in the back verandah. After I had cleared a million sterling,
I divided it into two parts; with one part I bought jewels, of which my
mother is an excellent judge, and the other I put out at interest. Not
forgetting," with an upward glance, "a sum the interest of which I do
not look for here."
"Then, did you give all your jewels to your mother?" asked Lady
Broadhem.
"Oh no; she is only keeping them till I can bestow them upon the woman I
choose for her daughter-in-law."
"Are you looking out for her now?" I asked, somewhat abruptly.
"Yes, my dear friend," said John; "I hope to find in England some
Christian young person as a yoke-mate."
There was a self-satisfied roll of his eye as he said this, which took
away from me all further desire for the bacon and eggs I had just put on
my plate.
"Dear Mr Chundango," said Lady Broadhem, "tell us some of your
adventures as a catechist in the Bombay Ghauts. Did you give up all when
you became one? Was your family noble? and did you undergo much
persecution from them?"
"The Rajah of Sattara is my first cousin," said Chundango, unblushingly;
"but they repudiated me when I became a Christian, and deny the
relationship."
"Are you going up to Convocation?" said Dickiefield to the Bishop, to
divert attention from Chundango's last barefaced assertion. "I hear they
are going to take some further action about the judgment on the 'Essays
and Reviews.'"
"Yes," said Joseph; "and I see there is a chance of three new sees being
created. I should like to talk over the matter with you. Considering how
seriously my health has suffered in the tropics, and how religiously I
have adhered to my Liberal opinions in politics even in the most trying
climates, it might be worth while----"
"Excuse me for interrupting you, my dear lord," said Dickiefield, "but
the present Government are not so particular about the political as the
theological views of their bishops. When you remember that the Prime
Minister of this country is held morally accountable for the orthodoxy
of its religious tenets, you must at once perceive how essential it is,
not only that he should be profoundly versed in points of Scriptural
doctrine himself, but that he should never appoint a bishop of whose
soundness he is not from personal knowledge thoroughly satisfied."
"I have no objection to talk over the more disputed points with him,"
said the Bishop. "When do you think he could spare a moment?"
"The best plan would be," replied Dickiefield, with a twinkle in his
eye, "to catch him in the lobby of the House some evening when there is
nothing particular going on. What books of reference would you require?"
The Bishop named one, when I interrupted him, for I felt Dickiefield had
not put the case fairly as regarded the first Minister of the Crown.
"It is not the Premier's fault at all," said I; "he may be the most
liberal theologian possible, but he has nothing to do with doctrine;
that lies in the Chancellor's department. As the supreme arbiter in
points of religious belief, and as the largest dispenser of spiritual
patronage in the kingdom, it is evident that the qualifications for a
Lord Chancellor should be not so much his knowledge of law, as his
unblemished moral character and incapacity for perpetrating jobs. He is,
in fact, the principal veterinary surgeon of the ecclesiastical stable,
and any man in orders that he 'warrants sound' cannot be objected to on
the score of orthodoxy. The Prime Minister is just in the same position
as the head of any other department,--whoever passes the competitive
examination he is bound to accept, but may use his own discretion as to
promotion, and, of course, sticks to the traditions of the service. The
fact is, if you go into the Colonial Episcopal line you get over the
heads of a lot of men who are steadily plodding on for home promotion,
and, of course they don't think it fair for an outsider to come back
again, and cut them out of a palace and the patronage attached to it on
the strength of having been a missionary bishop. It is just the same in
the Foreign Office,--if you go out of Europe you get out of the regular
line. However, we shall have the judgment on the Colenso case before
long, and, from the little I know of the question, it is possible you
may find that you are not legally a bishop at all. In that case you will
have what is far better than any interest--a grievance. You can say that
you were tempted to give up a good living to go to the heathen on false
pretences, and they'll have to make it up to you. You could not do
better than apply for one of the appointments attached to some
cathedrals, called 'Peculiars.' I believe that they are very comfortable
and independent. If you will allow me I will write to my solicitor about
one. Lawyers are the men to manage these matters, as they are all in
with each other, and every bishop has one attached to him."
"Thank you, my lord--my observation was addressed to Lord Dickiefield,"
said the Bishop, very stiffly; for there was an absence of that
deference in my tone to which those who love the uppermost seats in the
synagogues are accustomed, but which I reserve for some poor labourers
who will never be heard of in this world.
"Talking of committees," I went on, "how confused the Lord Chancellor
must be between them all. He must be very apt to forget when he is
'sitting' and when he is being 'sat upon.' If he had not the clearest
possible head, he would be proving to the world that Mr E---- was
competent to teach the Zulus theology in spite of the Bishop of Cape
Town, and that he was justified in giving Dr Colenso a large retiring
pension. What with having to quote texts in one committee-room, and
arithmetic in another, and having to explain the law of God, the law of
the land, and his own conduct alternately, it is a miracle that he does
not get a softening of the brain. Depend upon it," said I, turning to
the Bishop, who looked flushed and angry, "that a 'Peculiar' is a much
snugger place than the Woolsack."
"Lord Frank, permit me to say," broke in Lady Broadhem, who had several
times vainly endeavoured to interrupt me, "that your manner of treating
sacred subjects is most disrespectful and irreverent, and that your
allusions to an ecclesiastical stable, 'outsiders,' and other racing
slang, is in the worst possible taste, considering the presence of the
Bishop."
"Lady Broadhem," said I, sternly, "when the money-changers were scourged
out of the Temple there was no want of reverence displayed towards the
service to which it was dedicated; and it seems to me, that to sell 'the
Temple' itself, whether under the name of an 'advowson,' a 'living,' or
a 'cure of souls,' is the very climax of irreverence, not to use a
stronger term; and when the Lord Chancellor brings in an Act for the
purpose of facilitating this traffic in 'souls,' and 'augmenting the
benefices' derived from curing them, I think it is high time, at the
risk of giving offence to my friend the Bishop, and to the
ecclesiastical establishment generally, to speak out. What times have we
fallen upon that the priesthood itself, once an inspiration, has become
a trade?"[1]
[Footnote 1: "Let the Church," says the 'Times,' in a recent leading
article, "increase the number of her good things, and her ranks will be
largely and _worthily_ filled up."]
Lady Broadhem seemed a little cowed by my vehemence, which some might
have thought amounted to rudeness, but would not abandon the field. "The
result," she said, "of impoverishing the Church will be, that you will
only get literates to go into it; as it is, compared with other
professions, it holds out no inducement for young men of family.
Fortunately our own living, being worth L1200 a-year, always secures us
a member of the family, and therefore a gentleman; but if you did away
with them you would not have holier men, but simply worse-bred ones. I
am sure we should not gain by having the Church filled with clergy of
the class of Dissenting preachers."
"I don't think you would, any more than the Pharisees would have gained
by being reduced to the level of the Sadducees; not that I would wish to
use either term offensively towards the conscientious individuals who
were, doubtless, comprised in the above sects in old time, still less as
a reproach to the excellent men who fill the churches and chapels of
this country now; but it has possibly not occurred to them that the
Churchianity of the present day bears as little resemblance to the
Christianity of eighteen hundred years ago, as the latter did to the
worship it came to supersede;" and I felt I had sown seed in the
ecclesiastical vineyard, and would leave it to fructify. "Good fellow,
Frank!" I overheard Dickiefield say, as I left the room; "it is a pity
his head is a little turned!" "Ah," I thought, "something is upside
down; perhaps it is my head, but I rather think it is the world
generally, including always the religious world. It seemed to have taken
a start in the right direction nearly two thousand years ago, and now it
has all slipped back again worse than ever, and is whirling the wrong
way with a rapidity that makes one giddy. I feel more giddy than usual
to-day, somehow," I soliloquised; "and every time I look at Lady Ursula,
I feel exactly as if I had smoked too much. It can't be really that, so
I'll light a cigar and steady my nerves before I come to the tremendous
issue. She is too sensible to mind my smelling of tobacco." These were
the thoughts that passed through my somewhat bewildered brain, as I
stepped out upon the terrace and lit my cigar. So far from my nerves
becoming steadier, however, under the usually soothing influence, I felt
my heart beating more rapidly each time I endeavoured to frame the
sentence upon which was to depend the happiness of my life, until at
last my resolution gave way altogether, and I determined to put upon
paper, in the form of an interrogatory, the momentous question. A glass
door opened from a recess in the drawing-room upon the terrace on which
I was walking, and in it, on my former visits, I had been in the daily
habit of writing my letters. It was a snug retreat, with a fire all to
itself, a charming view, and a _portiere_ which separated it or not from
the drawing-room, according to the wish of the occupant. The first
question I had to consider when I put the writing materials before me
was, whether I ought to begin, "Dear Lady Ursula," or, "My dear Lady
Ursula." I should not have entertained the idea of beginning "My dear,"
did I not feel that having known her as a child entitled me to assume a
certain intimacy. However, on further consideration, I adopted the more
distant form, and then my real difficulty began. While looking for an
inspiration at the further end of the avenue which stretched from the
lawn, I became conscious of a figure moving slowly towards me, which I
finally perceived to be that of Lady Broadhem herself. In my then frame
of mind, any escape from my dilemma was a relief, and I instinctively
left the still unwritten note and joined her.
"This is a courageous proceeding, Lady Broadhem; the weather is scarcely
mild enough for strolling."
"I determined to make sure of some exercise," she replied,--"the clouds
look threatening; besides, I have a good deal on my mind, and I can
always think better when I am walking _alone_."
She put a marked emphasis on the last word, I can't imagine why, so I
said, "That is just my case. If you only knew the torture I am enduring,
you would not wonder at my wanting to be alone. As for exercise, it
would not be of the slightest use."
"Dear me," said Lady Broadhem, pulling a little box like a card-case out
of her pocket, "tell me your exact symptoms, and I'll give you some
globules."
"It is not altogether beyond the power of homoeopathy," I said, with a
sigh. "Hahnemann was quite right when he adopted as the motto for his
system, 'Like cures like,' It applies to my complaint exactly. Love will
cure love, but not in homoeopathic doses."
"How very odd! I was thinking the very same thing when you joined me. My
dear girls are of course ever uppermost in my mind, and I really am
troubled about Ursula. I think," she said, looking with a sidelong
glance into my face, "I know who is on the point of declaring himself,"
and she stopped suddenly, as though she had spoken under some
irresistible impulse.
I don't remember having blushed since I first went to school, but if
Lady Broadhem could have seen the colour of my skin under my thick
beard, she would have perceived how just her penetration had been. Still
I was a good deal puzzled at the quickness with which she had made a
discovery I imagined unknown, even to the object of my affections, to
say nothing of the coarseness of her alluding to it to me in that direct
manner. What had I said or done that could have put her on the scent? I
pondered in vain over the mystery. My conduct had been most circumspect
during the few hours I had been in love; nothing but the sagacity with
which the maternal instinct is endowed could account for it.
"Do you think Lady Ursula returns the affection?" said I, timidly.
"Ursula is a dear, well-principled girl, who will make any man who is
fortunate enough to win her happy. I am sure she will be guided by my
wishes in the matter. And now, Lord Frank, I think we have discussed
this subject sufficiently. I have said more, perhaps, than I ought; but
we are such old friends that, although I entirely disagree with your
religious opinions, it has been a relief to me even to say thus much. I
trust my anxieties will soon be at an end;" with which most encouraging
speech Lady Broadhem turned towards the house, leaving me overcome with
rapture and astonishment, slightly tinged with disgust at finding that
the girl I loved was thrown at my head.
I did not delay, when I got back to my recess in the drawing-room, to
tear up with a triumphant gesture my note beginning "Dear," and to
commence another, "My dear Lady Ursula."
"The conversation which I have just had with Lady Broadhem," I went on,
"encourages me to lose no time in writing to you to explain the nature
of those feelings which she seems to have detected almost as soon as
they were called into existence, and which gather strength with such
rapidity that a sentiment akin to self-preservation urges me not to lose
another moment in placing myself and my fortune at your disposal. If I
allude to the latter, it is not because I think such a consideration
would influence you in the smallest degree, but because you may not
suspect, from my economical habits, the extent of my private resources.
I am well aware that my impulsive nature has led me into an apparent
precipitancy in writing thus; but if I cannot flatter myself that the
short time I have passed in your society has sufficed to inspire you
with a reciprocal sentiment, Lady Broadhem's assurance that I may depend
upon your acceding to her wishes in this the most important act of your
life, affords me the strongest encouragement.--Believe me, yours most
faithfully,
"FRANK VANECOURT."
I have already observed that, when my mind is very deeply absorbed in
composition, I become almost insensible to external influences: thus it
was not until I had finished my letter, and was reading it over, that I
became conscious of sounds in the drawing-room. I was just thinking that
I had got the word "sentiment" twice, and was wondering what I could
substitute for that expressive term, when I suppose I must have
overheard, for I insensibly found myself signing my name "Jewel." Then
came the unmistakable sound of Chundango's voice mentioning the name
dearest to me. "Remember, Lady Ursula," said that regenerate pagan,
"there are very few men who could offer their brides such a collection
of jewels as I can. Think, that although of a different complexion from
yourself, I am of royal blood. You are surely too enlightened and
noble-minded to allow the trivial consideration of colour to influence
you."
"Mr Chundango," said Lady Ursula, and I heard the rustle of her dress as
she rose from her chair, "you really must excuse me from listening to
you any more."
"Stop one moment," said Chundango; and I suspect he tried to get hold of
her hand, for I heard a short quick movement; "I have not made this
proposal without receiving first the sanction of Lady Broadhem."
"Deceitful old hypocrite"; thought I, with suppressed fury. "When I told
her ladyship that I would settle a million's worth of pounds upon you in
jewellery and stock, that my blood was royal, and that all my
aspirations were for social distinction, she said she desired no higher
qualification. 'What, dear Mr Chundango,' she remarked, 'matters the
colour of your skin if your blood is pure? If your jewellery and your
conversion are both genuine, what more could an anxious mother desire
for her beloved daughter?'"
"Spare me, I implore you," said Ursula, in a voice betraying great
agitation. "You don't know the pain you are giving me."
Whether Chundango at this moment fell on his knees, which I don't think
likely, as natives never thus far humble themselves before the sex, or
whether he stumbled over a footstool in trying to prevent her leaving
the room--which is more probable--I could not discover. I merely heard a
heavy sound and then the door open. I think the Indian must have hurt
himself, as the next time I heard his voice it was trembling with
passion.
"Lady Broadhem," he said--for it appears she it was who had entered the
room--"I do not understand Lady Ursula's conduct. I thought obedience to
parents was one of the first precepts of the Christian religion; but
when I tell her your wishes on the subject of our marriage, she forbids
me to speak. I will now leave her in your hands, and I hope I shall
receive her from them in the evening in another and a better frame of
mind;" and Chundango marched solemnly out and banged the door after him.
"What have you done, Ursula?" said Lady Broadhem, in a cold, hard voice.
"I suppose some absurd prejudice about his colour has influenced you in
refusing a fortune that few girls have placed at their feet. He is a man
of remarkable ability; in some lights there is a decided richness in his
hue; and Lord Dickiefield tells me he fully expects to see him some day
Under-Secretary for India, and ultimately perhaps in the Cabinet.
Moreover, he is very lavish, and would take a pride in giving you all
you could possibly want, and in meeting all our wishes. He would be most
useful to Broadhem, whose property, you know, was dreadfully involved by
his father in his young days-in fact, he promised me to pay off L300,000
of the debt upon his personal security, and not ask for any interest for
the first few years. All this you are throwing away for some girlish
fancy for some one else."
Here my heart bounded. "Dear girl," thought I, "she loves me, and I'll
rush in and tell her that I return her passion. Moreover, I will
overwhelm that old woman with confusion for having so grossly deceived
me." A scarcely audible sob from Lady Ursula decided me, and to the
astonishment of mother and daughter I suddenly revealed myself. Lady
Ursula gave a start and a little exclamation, and before I could explain
myself, had hurried from the room. Lady Broadhem confronted me, stern,
defiant, and indignant.
"Is it righteous,--Lady Broadhem----" I began, but she interrupted me.
"My indignation? Yes, Lord Frank, it is."
"No, Lady Broadhem; I did not allude to your indignation, which is
unjustifiable. I was about to express my feelings in language which I
thought might influence you with reference to the deception you have
practised upon me. You gave me to understand only half an hour ago that
you approved of my attachment to your daughter; you implied that that
attachment was returned--indeed, I have just overheard as much from her
own lips; and now you deliberately urge her to ally herself with--the
thought is too horrible!" and I lifted my handkerchief to my eyes to
conceal my unaffected emotion.
"Lord Frank," said Lady Broadhem, calmly, "you had no business to
overhear anything; however, I suppose the state of your feelings must be
your excuse. It seems that we entirely misunderstood each other this
morning. The attachment I then alluded to was the one you have just
heard Mr Chundango declare. I did so, because I thought of asking you to
find out some particulars about him which I am anxious to know. I was
utterly ignorant of your having entertained the same feelings for
Ursula. What settlements are you prepared to make?"
This question was put so abruptly that a mixed feeling of indignation
and contempt completely mastered me. At these moments I possess the
faculty of sublime impertinence.
"I shall make Broadhem a liberal allowance, and settle an annuity upon
yourself, which my solicitor will pay you quarterly. I know the family
is poor; it will give me great pleasure to keep you all."
Lady Broadhem's lips quivered with anger; but the Duke of Dunderhead's
second son, who had inherited all the Flityville property through his
mother, was a fish worth landing, so she controlled her feelings with an
effort of self-possession which commanded my highest admiration, and
said in a gentle tone as she held out her hand with a subdued smile,--
"Forgive the natural anxiety of a mother, Lord Frank, as I forgive you
for that last speech." Here she lifted her eyes and remained silent for
a few moments, then she sighed deeply. She meant me to understand by
this that she had been permitted to overcome her feelings of resentment
towards me, and was now overflowing with Christian charity.
"Dear Lady Broadhem," I replied, affectionately, for I felt
preternaturally intelligent, and ready for the most elaborate maternal
strategy, "how thankful we ought to be that on an occasion of this kind
we can both so thoroughly command our feelings! Believe me, your anxiety
for your daughter's welfare is only equalled by the fervour of my
affection for her. Shall we say L100,000 in stock, and Flityville Park
as a dower-house?"
"What stock, Lord Frank?" asked her ladyship, as she subsided languidly
into a chair; "not Mexicans or Spanish passives, I do most fervently
trust."
"No," said I, maliciously; "nearly all in Confederate and Greek loans."
"Oh!" she ejaculated, with a little scream, as if something had stung
her.
"What is the matter, Lady Broadhem?" and she looked so unhappy and
disconcerted that I had compassion on her. "I was only joking; you need
be under no apprehension as to the securities--they are as sound as your
own theology, and would satisfy the Lord Chancellor quite as well."
"Oh, it was not that! Perhaps some day when you and dear Ursula are
married, I will tell you all about it; for you have my full consent; and
I need not say what an escape I think she has had from that black man.
_Entre nous_, as it is most important you should understand exactly the
situation, I must correct one error into which you have fallen; she is
not in love with you, Lord Frank; you must expect a little opposition at
first; but that will only add zest to the pursuit, and my wishes will be
paramount in the end. The fact is, but this is a profound secret, your
friend Lord Grandon has behaved most improperly in the matter. He came
down on some pretence of instilling his ridiculous notions into
Broadhem, who took a fancy to him when we were all staying at Lady
Mundane's, and I strongly opposed it, as I fancied, even then, he was
paying Ursula too much attention; but she has such influence with
Broadhem that she carried her point, because, she said, her brother
could only get good from him. What exactly passed at Broadhem I don't
know; but I was so angry at the idea of an almost penniless Irish peer
taking advantage of his opportunities as a visitor to entrap my girl's
affections, that I told him I expected some people, and should want his
bedroom. He left within an hour, and Ursula declares he never uttered a
word which warranted this decisive measure; but people can do a good
deal without 'uttering,' as she calls it; and I am quite determined not
to let them see anything of each other during the season. Fortunately
Lord Grandon scarcely ever goes out, and Broadhem, whose eyes are opened
at last, has promised to watch him. Whoever Ursula marries must do
something for Broadhem."
Although I am able to record this speech word for word, I am quite
unable to account for the curious psychological fact, that it has become
engraven on my memory, while, at the time, I was unconscious of
listening to it. The pattern of the carpet, a particular curl of Lady
Broadhem's "front," the fact that the clock struck one, are all stamped
upon the plate of my internal perceptive faculties with the vividness of
a photograph. The vision of happiness which I had conjured up was
changing into a hideous contrast, and reminded me of the Diorama at the
Colosseum in my youth, where a fairy landscape, with a pastoral group at
lunch in the foreground, became gradually converted into a pandemonium
of flames and devils.
I felt borne along by a mighty torrent which was sweeping me from
elysian fields into some fathomless abyss. Love and friendship both
coming down together in one mighty crash, and the only thing left
standing--Lady Broadhem--right in front of me--a very stern reality
indeed. I don't the least know the length of time which elapsed between
the end of her speech and when I returned to consciousness--probably not
many seconds, though it seemed an age. I gasped for breath, so she
kindly came to my relief.
"My dear Lord Frank," she said, "after all it might have been worse.
Supposing that Lord Grandon had not been your friend, or had not had the
absurd Quixotic ideas which I understand he has of the duties of
friendship, he might have given you immense trouble; as it is, I am sure
he has only to know the exact state of the case to retire. I know him
quite well enough for that. I look upon it as providential. Had it been
Mr Chundango, Grandon would most probably have persevered. Now he is
quite capable of doing all he can to help you with Ursula."
I groaned in spirit. How well had Lady Broadhem judged the character of
the man to whom she would not give her daughter!
"I am so glad to think, Lady Broadhem," said I, with a bitter laugh,
"that you do not suspect me of such a ridiculous exaggeration of
sentiment. So far from it, it seems to impart a peculiar piquancy to the
pursuit when success is only possible at the sacrifice of another's
happiness; and when that other is one's oldest friend, there is a
refinement of emotion, a sort of pleasurable pain, which is quite
irresistible. To what element in our nature do you attribute this?"
"To original sin, I am afraid," said Lady Broadhem, looking down, for my
manner seemed to puzzle, and make her nervous.
"Oh, it is not at all 'original,'" said I. "Whatever other merit it
possesses, it can't claim originality--it is the commonest thing in the
world; but I think it is an acquired taste at first--it grows upon you
like caviar or olives. I remember some years ago, in Australia, running
away with the wife of a charming fellow----"
"Oh, Lord Frank, Lord Frank, please stop! Have you repented? and where
is she?"
"No," I said, "I never intend to repent; and I'll tell you where she is
after the marriage."
At this crisis the demon of recklessness which had sustained me, and
prompted the above atrocious falsehood, deserted me suddenly, so I leant
against the mantelpiece and sobbed aloud. I remember deriving a
malicious satisfaction from the idea that Lady Broadhem thought I was
weeping for my imaginary Australian.
"How very dreadful!" said she, when I became somewhat calmer. "We must
forget the past, and try and reform ourselves, mustn't we?" she went on,
caressingly; "but I had no idea that you had passed through a _jeunesse
orageuse_. Do you know, I think men, when they do steady, are always the
better for it."
"Well, I hope Lady Ursula may keep me quiet; nothing else ever has yet.
I suppose you won't expect me to go to church?"
"We'll talk about that after the marriage, to use your own expression,"
replied Lady Broadhem, with a smile.
"Because, you know, I am worse than Grandon as regards orthodoxy. Now,
Chundango is so thoroughly sound, don't you think, after all, that that
is the first consideration?"
"To tell you the truth--but of course I never breathed it to Ursula--I
attach a good deal of importance to colour."
"Ah, I see; you classify us somewhat in this way: first, if you can get
it, rich, orthodox, and white; second, rich, heterdox, and white; third,
rich, orthodox, and black. Now, in my opinion, to attach any importance
whatever to colour is wicked. My objections to Mr Chundango do not apply
to his skin, which is as good as any other, but to his heart, which I am
afraid is black. I prefer a pure heart in a dark skin to a black heart
in a white one," and I looked significantly at her ladyship. "Supposing
that out of friendship for Grandon I should do the absurd thing of
withdrawing my pretensions, what would happen?"
"I should insist upon Ursula's marrying Mr Chundango. I tell you in
confidence, Lord Frank, that pecuniary reasons, which I will explain
more fully at another time, render it absolutely necessary that she
should marry a man with means within the next six months. The credit of
our whole family is at stake; but it is impossible for me to enter into
details now." At this moment the luncheon was announced. I followed Lady
Broadhem mechanically towards the dining-room, but instead of entering
it went up-stairs like one in a dream, and ordered my servant to make
arrangements for my immediate departure. I pulled an arm-chair near my
bedroom fire, and gazed hopelessly into it.
People call me odd. I wonder really whether the conflicts of which my
brain is the occasional arena are fiercer than those of others. I wonder
whether other people's thoughts are as like clouds as mine
are--sometimes, when it is stormy, grouping themselves in wild fantastic
forms; sometimes chasing each other through vacancy, for no apparent
purpose; sometimes melting away in "intense inane;" and again
consolidating themselves, black and lowering, till they burst in a
passionate explosion. What are they doing now? and I tried in vain to
stop the mental kaleidoscope which shifted itself so rapidly that I
could not catch one combination of thought before it was succeeded by
another; but always the same prominent figures dodging madly about the
chambers of my brain--Chundango, Ursula, Lady Broadhem, and Grandon;
Lady Broadhem, Chundango, Grandon, and Ursula--backwards and forwards,
forwards and backwards, like some horrid word that I had to spell in a
game of letters, and could never bring right. Love, friendship, hate,
pity, admiration, treachery--more words to spell, ever combining
wrongly, and never letting me rest, till I thought something must crack
under the strain. Then mockingly came a voice ringing in my ears--Peace,
peace, peace--and I fancied myself lulled to rest in her arms, and I
heard the cooing of doves mingle with the soft murmur of her voice as
she leant wistfully over me, and I revelled in that most fatal of all
nightmares--the nightmare of those who, perishing of hunger and thirst,
die of imaginary banquets. "Sweet illusion," I said, "dear to me as
reality, brood over my troubled spirit, deaden its pain, heal its
wounds, and weave around my being this delicious spell for ever." Then
suddenly, as though my brain had been a magazine into which a spark had
fallen, it blazed up; my hair bristled, and drops stood upon my
forehead, for a great fear had fallen upon me. It had invaded me with
the force of an overwhelming torrent, carrying all before it. It said,
"Whence is the calm that soothes you? Infatuated dreamer, think you it
is the subsiding of the storm, and not rather the lull that precedes it?
Beware of the sleep of the frozen, from which there is no waking." What
was this? was my mind regaining its balance, or was it going to lose it
for ever? Most horrid doubt! the very thought was so much in the scale
on the wrong side. Oh for something to lean upon--some strong stay of
common-sense to support me! I yearned for the practical--some fact on
which to build. "I have got it," I exclaimed suddenly. "There must be
some osseous matter behind my dura mater!" I shall never forget the
consolation which this notion gave me: it relieved me from any further
psychological responsibility, so to speak; I gave up mental analysis. I
attributed the keen susceptibility of my aesthetic nature to this cause,
and accepted it as I would the gout, without a murmur. Still I needed
repose and solitude, so I determined to go to Flityville and arrange my
ideas, no longer alarmed at the confusion in which they were, but with
the steadfast purpose of disentangling them quietly, as I would an
interesting knot. Hitherto I had been tearing at it madly and making it
worse; now I had got the end of the skein--"osseous matter"--and would
soon unravel it. So I descended calmly to the drawing-room.
I found it empty, but it occurred to me I had left my letter to Lady
Ursula in the recess, and in the agitation attending my interview with
Lady Broadhem, had forgotten to go back for it. I pushed back the
_portiere_, and saw seated at the writing-table Lady Ursula herself. She
looked pale and nervous, while I felt overwhelmed with confusion and
embarrassment. This was the more trying, as many years have elapsed
since I have experienced any such sensations.
"Oh, you don't happen to have seen a letter lying about anywhere, do
you, Lady Ursula?" said I. "It ought to be under your hand, for I left
it exactly on that spot."
"No," she said; "I found mamma writing here when I came, and she took a
packet of letters away with her; perhaps she put yours among them by
mistake. She will be back from her drive almost immediately."
"I hope so," said I. "I should be sorry to leave without seeing her."
"To leave, Lord Frank! I thought you were going to stay till Monday."
She looked up rather appealingly, I thought, as if my presence would
have been a satisfaction to her under the circumstances; and I saw, as I
returned her steady earnest gaze, that she little guessed the purport of
the missing letter.
At that moment my head began to swim, and the figures to dance about in
my brain again. Chundango and Grandon seemed locked in a death-struggle,
and Ursula, with dishevelled hair, trying to separate them, while Lady
Broadhem, in the background, was clapping her hands and urging them on.
I seemed spinning round the group with such rapidity that I was obliged
to steady myself with one hand against the back of Lady Ursula's chair.
"What's the matter? what's the matter, Lord Frank?" she exclaimed.
"Osseous matter, osseous matter," I murmured mechanically, and it
sounded so like an echo of her words that I am sure she thought me going
mad. Should I throw myself at her feet and tell her all? If she would
only trample upon me and my feelings together, it would be a luxury
compared to the agony of self-control I was inflicting upon myself. If I
could only pour myself out in a torrent of passionate expression, and
wind up with a paroxysm of tears, she was welcome to treat me as a
raving lunatic, but I should be much less likely to become one. But how,
knowing what I did, could I face Grandon afterwards? Before that fatal
conversation with Lady Broadhem, I should have had the satisfaction of
hearing my fate from Lady Ursula herself, and I know that she would have
treated me so tenderly that rejection would have been a thousand times
preferable to this. She would have known then the intensity of my
affection, she would have heard from my own lips the burning words with
which I would have pleaded my cause, and, whatever might have been the
result, would have pitied and felt for me. Now, if I say nothing, and
Lady Broadhem tells her when I am gone that she considers us engaged,
what will Ursula think of me? Again, if Lady Broadhem thinks I am really
going to do what my conscience urges, and sacrifice myself for Grandon,
then, poor girl, she will be sacrificed to Chundango.
Nothing but misery will come out of that double event: if I do what is
right, it will bring misery; if I do what is wrong, it will bring misery
too,--that is one consolation--it makes the straight and narrow path
easier. The only difficulty is, I can't find it--and standing here with
my hand on her chair, my head swimming, and Lady Ursula looking
anxiously up at me, I am not likely to find it.
"Lord Frank, do let me ring the bell and send for a glass of water," she
said at last.
"Thanks, no; the fact is, that letter I have lost causes me the greatest
anxiety, and when I thought what the consequences might be of its going
astray I felt a little faint for a moment."
"Dear me," said Lady Ursula, kindly, "I will make mamma look for it at
once, and I am sure if it is a matter in which my sympathy could be of
any use, you will appreciate my motive in offering it; but I do think in
this world people might be of so much more use to each other than they
are, if they would only trust one another, and believe in the sincerity
of friendship. Although you did try to shock me last night," she said,
with a smile, "I have heard so much of you from Lord Grandon, and know
how kind and good you are, although he says you are too enthusiastic and
too fond of paradoxes, but I assure you I consider you quite an old
friend. You remember, years ago, when I was a little girl, how you used
to gallop about with me on my pony in the park at Broadhem? You won't
think me inquisitive, I am sure, in saying this, but there are moments
sometimes when it is a relief to find a listener to the history of one's
troubles."
"But when, by a curious fatality, that listener is the cause of them
all, these moments are not likely to arrive," I thought, but did not
say. Is it not enough to love a woman to distraction, and be obliged by
every principle of honour to conceal it from her, without her pressing
upon you her sympathy, and inviting your confidence? and the very
tenderness which had prompted her speech rose up against her in judgment
in my mind. So ready with her friendship, too! Should I tell her
bitterly that she was the only being in the whole world whose friendship
could aggravate my misery? Should I congratulate her upon the ingenuity
she had displayed in thus torturing me? or should I revenge myself by
giving her the confidence she asked, and requesting her to advise me how
to act under the circumstances? Then I looked at the gentle earnest
face, and my heart melted. My troubles! Do I not know too well what hers
are? Perhaps it would be a relief to her to hear, that if worse comes to
worst, she can always escape Chundango by falling back upon me. If she
is driven to begging me to offer myself up on her shrine, what a very
willing sacrifice she would find me! As she knows that I must have
overheard what passed between her and Chundango this morning, shall I
make a counter-proposition of mutual confidence, and allude delicately
to that most painful episode! If she is generous enough to forget her
own troubles and think of me, why should not I forget mine and think of
her? The idea of this contradiction in terms struck me as so exquisitely
ludicrous, that I laughed aloud.
"Ha! ha! ha! Lady Ursula, if you only knew what a comic aspect that last
kind speech of yours has given to the whole affair. Don't think me
ungrateful or rude, but--ha! ha! ha!" Here I went off again. "When once
my sense of humour is really touched, I always seem to see the point of
a joke to quite a painful degree. Upon two occasions I have suffered
from fits after punning, and riddles always make me hysterical; but I
assure you, you unconsciously made a joke just now when you asked me to
tell you exactly what I felt, which I shall remember as long as I live,
for it will certainly be the death of me--ha! ha! ha!" But Lady Ursula
had risen from her chair and rung the bell before I had finished my
speech, and I was still laughing when the servant came into the room,
followed by Lady Broadhem and Lady Bridget.
"Dear me," said Lady Broadhem, with her most winning smile, "how very
merry you are!--at least Lord Frank is. You seem a little pale, dear,"
turning to Ursula; "what is the matter?"
"Oh, nothing, mamma. Lord Frank has been looking for a letter in the
recess. You don't happen to have put it up with yours, do you?"
"No, my dear, I think not," said Lady Broadhem, looking through a
bundle. "Who was it to, Lord Frank, if you will pardon my curiosity? I
shall find it more easily if you will give me the address."
"Nobody in particular," said I, "so it does not matter; you can keep it
and read it. It is a riddle; that is what has been amusing us so much.
Lady Ursula has been making such absurd attempts to guess it. Good-bye,
Lady Broadhem. Here is the servant come to say that my fly is at the
door."
"Good gracious! Why, where are you going?" said she, evidently imagining
that her daughter and I had had some thrilling episode, and that I was
going away in a huff, so I determined to mystify her still more.
"Oh, only to Flityville to get everything ready; you know what a state
the place is in. Now," and I looked tenderly into the amazed face of
Lady Ursula, "I shall indeed have an object in putting it in order, and
I shall expect you and Lady Ursula to come some day soon and suggest the
improvements. I have only one request to make before leaving, and I do
so, Lady Ursula, in the presence of your mother and sister; and that is,
that until I see you again, the subject of our conversation just now may
never be alluded to between yourselves. Trust in me, Lady Broadhem," I
said, taking her hand affectionately, "and promise me you will not ask
Lady Ursula what I have just told her; if you do," I whispered, "you
will spoil all," and I looked happy and mysterious. "Do you promise?"
"I do," said Lady Broadhem.
"And now, Lady Ursula," I said, crossing over to her and taking her
hand, "once more good-bye, and"--I went on in so low a tone that it was
impossible for Lady Broadhem to overhear it, but it made her feel sure
that all was arranged between us--"you have got the most terrible secret
of my life. I know I can trust you. You have seen me"--and I formed the
word with my lips rather than uttered it with my breath--"MAD! Hush!"
for Lady Ursula gave a quick exclamation, and almost fainted with alarm;
"I am myself again now. Remember my happiness is in your keeping"--this
out loud for Lady Broadhem's benefit. "I am going to say good-bye to
Lady Dickiefield, and you shall hear from me when I can receive you at
Flityville."
I am endowed with a somewhat remarkable faculty, which I have not been
in the habit of alluding to, partly because my friends think me
ridiculous if I do, and partly because I never could see any use in it,
but I do nevertheless possess the power of seeing in the dark. Not after
the manner of cats--the objects which actually exist--but images which
sometimes appear as the condensations of a white misty-looking
substance, and sometimes take a distinctly bright luminous appearance.
As I gaze into absolute darkness, I first see a cloud, which gradually
seems to solidify into a shape, either of an animal or some definite
object. In the case of the more brilliant image, the appearance is
immediate and evanescent. It comes and goes like a flash, and the
subject is generally significant and beautiful. Perhaps some of my
readers may be familiar with this phenomenon, and may account for it as
being the result of what they call imagination, which is only putting
the difficulty one step back; or may adopt the wiser course which I have
followed, and not endeavour to account for it at all. Whatever be its
origin, the fact remains, and I only advert to it now, as it is the best
illustration I can think of to describe the mental process through which
I passed in the train on my way to Flityville. My mind seemed at first a
white mist--a blank sheet of paper. My interview with Lady Ursula had
produced this effect upon it. Gradually, and quite unconsciously to
myself, so far as any mental effort was concerned, my thoughts seemed to
condense into a definite plan of action; now and then a brilliant idea
would appear like a flash, and vanish sometimes before I could catch it;
but in so far as the complication in which Grandon, Ursula, the Broadhem
family, and myself were concerned, I seemed to see my way, or at all
events to feel sure that my way would be shown to me, if I let my
inspirations guide me. When once one achieves this thorough confidence
in one's inspirations, the journey of life becomes simplified. You never
wonder what is round the next corner, and begin to prepare for unknown
contingencies; but you wait till the corner is turned, and the
contingency arrives, and passively allow your mind to crystallise itself
into a plan of action. At this moment, of course, I have no more notion
what is going to happen to me than you have. Divest your mind, my
friend, that I know anything more of the plot of this story of my life
which you are reading than you do. I positively have not the slightest
idea what either I or any of the ladies and gentlemen to whom I have
introduced you are likely to do, or how it is all going to end. I have
told you the mental process under which I act; and, of course, this is
the mere record of those inspirations. Very often the most unlikely
things occur to me all of a sudden: thus, while my mind was, as it were,
trifling with the events which I have recounted, and throwing them into
a variety of combinations, it flashed upon me in the most irrelevant
manner that I would send L4000 anonymously to the Bishop of London's
fund. In another second the unconscious train of thought which led me to
this determination revealed itself. "Here," said I, "have I been
attacking this poor colonial bishop and the Establishment to which he
belongs, and what have I given him in return? I expose the abuses of his
theological and ecclesiastical system, but I provide him with no remedy.
I fling one big stone at the crystal palace in which Protestantism is
shrivelling away, and another big stone at the crystal palace in which
Catholicism is rotting, and I offer them in exchange the cucumber-frame
under which I am myself squatting uncomfortably. I owe them an apology.
Unfortunately I have not yet found either the man or the body of men who
do not prefer hard cash to an apology--provided, of course, it be
properly proportioned to the susceptibility of their feelings or the
delicacy of their sense of honour. Fairly, now," I asked myself, "if it
was put to the Bench of Bishops, would they consider L5000 sufficient to
compensate the Church for the expressions I made use of to one of their
order?" "More than sufficient," myself replied. "Then we will make it
four thousand." But the whole merit of the action lies in the anonymous,
and so nobody knows till they read this who it was made that munificent
donation. That I should have afterwards changed my mind, and answered
the advertisement of the committee, which appeared in the "agony" column
of the 'Times,' who wanted to know how I wished the money applied, by a
request that it should be paid back to my account at the Bank, does not
affect the question; I merely wished to show the nature of my impulses,
and the readiness with which I act upon them.
Some days elapsed after my arrival at Flityville before I felt moved to
write to Grandon. The fact is, I was writing this record of my trials
for the world in general, and did not know what to say to him in
particular. At length, feeling that I owed him an explanation, I wrote
as follows:--
"FLITYVILLE, _March 19_.
"You are doubtless surprised, my dear fellow," I began, "at my turning
myself into a hermit at this most inopportune season of the year; but
the fact is, that shortly after you left Dickiefield, I became so deeply
impressed with the responsibility of the great work I had undertaken,
that I perceived that a period of retirement and repose was absolutely
necessary with a view to the elaboration of some system which should
enable me to grapple with the great moral and social questions upon
which I am engaged.
"Diverting my anxious gaze from Christendom generally, I concentrated it
upon my own country, in the hope that I might discover the root of its
disease. Morbid activity of the national brain, utterly deranged action
of the national heart. Those were the symptoms--unmistakable. Proximate
cause also not difficult to arrive at. Due to the noxious influence of
tall chimneys upon broad acres, whereby the commercial effluvium of the
Plutocracy has impregnated the upper atmosphere, and overpowered the
enfeebled and enervated faculties of the aristocracy; lust of gain has
supervened upon love of ease. Hence the utter absence of those noble and
generous impulses which are the true indications of healthy national
life. Expediency has taken the place of principle; conscience has been
crushed out of the system by calculation. The life-blood of the country,
instead of bounding along its veins, creeps sluggishly through them,
till it threatens to stagnate altogether, and congestion becomes
imminent.
"Looked at from what I may term 'externals,' we simply present to the
world at large the ignoble spectacle of a nation of usurers trembling
over our money-bags; looked at from internals, I perceive that we are
suffering from a moral opiate, to the action of which I attribute the
unhappy complaints that I have endeavoured to describe. This pernicious
narcotic has been absorbed by us for hundreds of years unsuspected and
unperceived under the guise of a popular theology. We have become so
steeped in the insane delusion, now many centuries old, that we are a
Christian nation, that I anticipate with dread the reaction which will
take place when men awaken to the true character of the religious
quackery with which they have been duped, and, overlooking in their
frenzy the distinction which exists between ancient and modern
Christianity, will repudiate the former with horror, which, after all,
does not deserve to be condemned, for it has never yet been tried as a
political system in any country. Individuals only profess to be
theoretically governed by it. Nor would it be possible, as society is at
present constituted, for any man to carry out its principles in daily
life. That any statesman would be instantly ruined who should openly
announce that he intended to govern the country on purely Christian
principles, may be made clear to the simplest comprehension. For
instance, imagine our Foreign Minister getting up in the House of
Commons and justifying his last stroke of foreign policy upon the ground
that we should 'love our neighbours better than ourselves, or penning a
despatch to any power that we felt 'persecuted' by blessing it. When do
we even do good to anybody in our national capacity, much less to them
'that hate us'? We certainly pray like Chinamen when we want to
propitiate an angry Deity about the cattle-plague; but who ever heard of
'a form of prayer to be used' for nations 'who despitefully use us.'
Fancy the Chancellor of the Exchequer informing us that instead of
laying up for the nation treasures upon earth, he proposed realising all
that the country possessed and giving it to the poor. Christian
Churchmen and statesmen do not therefore sufficiently believe in the
power and efficacy of the Christian moral code to trust the nation to it
alone. Hence they have invented ecclesiastical organisations and
theological dogmas as anodynes; and the people have been lulled into
security by the singular notion, that if they supported the one and
professed to believe in the other, they were different from either
Mohammedans or Bhuddists. In a word, it is the curse of England that its
intellect can see truths which its heart will not embody. The more I
think of it the more I am disposed to risk the assertion, that if, as is
supposed, the moral code called Christian is divine, it is only not
practicable, literally, by the nation for lack of national heart-faith.
I tell you this in confidence, for I am already considered so wild and
visionary upon all these matters, and so thoroughly unsound, that I
should not like it to be generally known, for fear of its injuring my
political prospects. In the mean time it will very much assist me in
arriving at some of my conclusions, if you will kindly procure for me,
from any leading member of the Legislature, lay or clerical, answers to
the following questions:--
"First, Whether Jonah could possibly have had anything to say to Nineveh
which would not apply with equal force to this Christian
metropolis?--and if so, What?
"Second, Specify the sins which were probably committed in Chorazin or
Bethsaida, but which have not yet been perpetrated in London.
"Third, As statecraft (assisted by priestcraft) consists not in making
the State better but richer, explain why it is easier for a collection
of rich men--called a nation--to be saved, than for a camel to go
through the eye of a needle, but not so easy for one man.
"Fourth, Does the saying that the love of money is the root of all evil
apply to a nation as well as to an individual?--and if not, how does it
happen that the more we accumulate wealth, the more we increase poverty
and misery and crime?
"That is enough for the present. But oh! what a string of questions I
could propound to these stumbling pagans, stupefied by the fatuous
superstition that their country is safer than other countries which have
come to judgment, because they are called by a particular name! Is there
among them all not the faintest consciousness of an impending doom? or
is the potency of the drug such that it is impossible to raise a cry
loud enough to rouse them? Why will they go on vainly trying to solve
the impossible problem of Government, never seeing that whatever system
is introduced is merely a rearrangement of sinners; that voters are like
cards--the more you shuffle them the dirtier they get; and that it is of
no use agitating for a reform in the franchise without first agitating
for a reform in the consciences of those who are to exercise it, and in
the fundamental principles of the policy upon which we are to be
governed.
"Wisely saith the greatest poet of the age, as yet, alas! unknown to
fame:--
"Reformers fail because they change the letter,
And not the spirit, of the world's design.
Tyrant and slave create the scourge and fetter--
As is the worshipper, will be the shrine.
The ideal fails, though perfect were the plan,
World-harmony springs through the perfect man.
We burn out life in hot impatient striving;
We dash ourselves against the hostile spears:
The bale-tree, that our naked hands are riving,
Unites to crush us. Ere our manhood's years,
We sow the rifled blossoms of the prime,
Then fruitlessly are gathered out of time.
We seek to change souls all unripe for changes;
We build upon a treacherous human soil
Of moral quicksand, and the world avenges
Its crime upon us, while we vainly toil.
In the black coal-pit of the popular heart
Rain falls, light kindles, but no flowers upstart.
Know this! For men of ignoble affection,
The social scheme that is, were better far
Than the orbed sun's most exquisite perfection,
Man needs not heaven till he revolves a star.
Why seek to win the mad world from its strife?
Grow perfect in the sanity of life."[2]
[Footnote 2: 'The Great Republic: a Poem of the Sun.' By Thomas Lake
Harris. New York and London: published by the "The Brotherhood of the
New Life."]
"Ah, my dear friend! how often, from my humble seat below the gangway,
have I gazed upon the Treasury Bench, and wondered how it was that right
hon. gentlemen, struggling to retain their dignity by sitting on each
other's knees, did not perceive that the reason why great reforms
perpetually fail is, not because they have not their root in some
radical injustice--not because the despotisms against which they rise
are in themselves right--but because those who attempt to inaugurate new
and better conditions upon the surfaces of society are themselves, for
the most part, desolate, darkened, and chaotic within! I am under the
impression, therefore, that no reform-agitation will ever do good which
is not preceded by an agitation, throughout the length and breadth of
the land, in favour of the introduction, for the first time, of this old
original moral code, not merely into the government of the country, but
into the life of every individual. Unless that is done, and done
speedily, those who are now morally stupefied will die in their torpor,
and the rest who are harmless lunatics will become gibbering and
shrieking demoniacs.--
Yours affectionately,
"F. V."
I had become so absorbed by the train of considerations into which I had
been led, that I never thought of mentioning to Grandon the
circumstances which attended my departure from Dickiefield. It was not
until after I had posted my letter that it occurred to me how singular,
considering the last words which passed between us, this silence would
appear. If to be odd has its drawbacks, it also has its advantages; and
I felt that Grandon would be as unable to draw any conclusions from my
silence as from any other erratic act of my life. After all, what could
I have said? It will be time, I thought, to venture upon that very
delicate ground when I get his reply. But this I was destined never to
receive, and the questions I had propounded are likely to remain
unanswered, for on the very next day I received the following telegram
from Lady Broadhem:--
"Your immediate presence here is absolutely necessary. Delay
will be fatal.
"MARY BROADHEM.
"GROSVENOR SQUARE, _20th March_."
[Illustration]