_Sir Reginald De Courcy to his Son._
Parklands.
I know that young men in general do not admit of any enquiry even from
their nearest relations into affairs of the heart, but I hope, my dear
Reginald, that you will be superior to such as allow nothing for a
father’s anxiety, and think themselves privileged to refuse him their
confidence and slight his advice. You must be sensible that as an only
son, and the representative of an ancient family, your conduct in life
is most interesting to your connections; and in the very important
concern of marriage especially, there is everything at stake—your own
happiness, that of your parents, and the credit of your name. I do not
suppose that you would deliberately form an absolute engagement of that
nature without acquainting your mother and myself, or at least, without
being convinced that we should approve of your choice; but I cannot
help fearing that you may be drawn in, by the lady who has lately
attached you, to a marriage which the whole of your family, far and
near, must highly reprobate. Lady Susan’s age is itself a material
objection, but her want of character is one so much more serious, that
the difference of even twelve years becomes in comparison of small
amount. Were you not blinded by a sort of fascination, it would be
ridiculous in me to repeat the instances of great misconduct on her
side so very generally known.
Her neglect of her husband, her encouragement of other men, her
extravagance and dissipation, were so gross and notorious that no one
could be ignorant of them at the time, nor can now have forgotten them.
To our family she has always been represented in softened colours by
the benevolence of Mr. Charles Vernon, and yet, in spite of his
generous endeavours to excuse her, we know that she did, from the most
selfish motives, take all possible pains to prevent his marriage with
Catherine.
My years and increasing infirmities make me very desirous of seeing you
settled in the world. To the fortune of a wife, the goodness of my own
will make me indifferent, but her family and character must be equally
unexceptionable. When your choice is fixed so that no objection can be
made to it, then I can promise you a ready and cheerful consent; but it
is my duty to oppose a match which deep art only could render possible,
and must in the end make wretched. It is possible her behaviour may
arise only from vanity, or the wish of gaining the admiration of a man
whom she must imagine to be particularly prejudiced against her; but it
is more likely that she should aim at something further. She is poor,
and may naturally seek an alliance which must be advantageous to
herself; you know your own rights, and that it is out of my power to
prevent your inheriting the family estate. My ability of distressing
you during my life would be a species of revenge to which I could
hardly stoop under any circumstances.
I honestly tell you my sentiments and intentions: I do not wish to work
on your fears, but on your sense and affection. It would destroy every
comfort of my life to know that you were married to Lady Susan Vernon;
it would be the death of that honest pride with which I have hitherto
considered my son; I should blush to see him, to hear of him, to think
of him. I may perhaps do no good but that of relieving my own mind by
this letter, but I felt it my duty to tell you that your partiality for
Lady Susan is no secret to your friends, and to warn you against her. I
should be glad to hear your reasons for disbelieving Mr. Smith’s
intelligence; you had no doubt of its authenticity a month ago. If you
can give me your assurance of having no design beyond enjoying the
conversation of a clever woman for a short period, and of yielding
admiration only to her beauty and abilities, without being blinded by
them to her faults, you will restore me to happiness; but, if you
cannot do this, explain to me, at least, what has occasioned so great
an alteration in your opinion of her.
I am, &c., &c,
REGINALD DE COURCY