_Memoirs of the Flint Family continued._
"My health had not been spared in these vexations, and its
interruptions made a coward of me. I experimentally felt the truth of
our favourite Terence's observation, 'I am a man, and have the feelings
of a man.' Whilst counting my throbbing pulse, my widowed Mary and
helpless child smote on my heart, and weakened still more the springs
of life. My little fund of about five hundred pounds had insensibly
diminished; you were remote and might _never return_; and I yielded to
despondency. But my God has graciously heard my sighs; you are with me
and I am comforted; for you will never forsake my wife and child."--I
must pause, Miss Cowley.
I saw with sanguine hopes the renewal of my brother's health and
cheerfulness. I received orders to join my regiment, and our
embarkation for America soon followed. Once more, oceans divided me
from my dear friends! Waving as useless the detail of my military life,
I will hasten to a conclusion. My brother's letters were for a time
such as I wished; but the arrow had been aimed too well. He died when
I was remote; leaving his daughter in her fifth year. My return to
England followed in a few months after this event.
In our passage home we captured a rich vessel bound for St. Malo's. In
the engagement I lost my leg; but gained six or seven hundred pounds
prize money.
On reaching London after a delay thus imposed, I found Heartley on
his dying bed; this trial did not accelerate my recovery. A fever
succeeded to his last embrace. Alas, his virtues suited not the world
he had escaped! Its cold and ungenial maxims could not find admission
into a heart glowing with every noble affection. Trusting to vigorous
health, and scorning the prudence which gives but to receive, he
lived honourably and died poor, leaving his widow with a jointure
of barely two hundred pounds per annum, for the support of herself
and two children. This inestimable woman found in her difficulties
and principles resources for ennobling her character. Her sorrows
were reserved for her pillow; and with a calm and collected mind,
she disposed of her effects, paid every outstanding debt; and then
declared to her friends, her intention of quitting London, in order to
give in retirement those habits to her children, which alone could
render them contented and independent. Mr. Wilson's house was the
asylum she chose; and in me she saw the guardian whom her husband had
named for his son. My dear Mary had her share in these arrangements,
and we left town, I having succeeded in my application, and seen my
claims established as an invalid on half-pay. We reached this place:
and I entered Wilson's friendly gate once more. Again did I fold in my
agonizing embrace the image of death. Great and merciful Being! thou
wilt not in rigour remember the frenzy of my despair, while, bending
over my fainting sister, I called down for vengeance on her destroyer!
For some days my soul sickened whilst I contemplated in her emaciated
form, the triumph of cruelty and the ravages of sorrow. But she smiled
me to resignation; and my heart received the blessings which Heaven
had spared me. Our tranquillity met with no disturbance from the hall.
I had been settled more than a month, when one morning, in passing
the hall gate, I saw Miss Flint and Mr. Flamall standing in the road
opposite to it, as though waiting for some one from the house. I
passed them as an absolute stranger. Mr. Flamall called me by name,
and added, "Miss Flint, Sir, wishes to speak to you." She advanced,
and I stopped. "I should have sent my attorney to you, Sir," said she
haughtily, "if I had not thought that you would in less than a month
have found leisure to call at the hall."--"When I have any business at
the hall, or interest in those who reside there, I shall find _leisure_
to call," replied I, with ill-suppressed emotion. "I neither expected,
nor desired your visit," answered she, "on my own account; but I beg to
know your pleasure in regard to the books you left behind you, when you
deserted it."--"Consult your _lawyer_," replied I; "if it be allowed
that I have a right to more than a shilling, send them; I will pay
the carriage, as I did the bookseller of whom they were purchased." I
walked on, and soon saw that she was joined by Mr. Snughead, to whom
she had recently given the living of Tarefield. This circumstance did
not contribute to restore my equanimity. Poor Howard pressed on my
memory and I returned home dejected.
My books made their appearance on the following day; and contributed
to my success as a tutor. Malcolm, Maclairn, and Henry Heartley were
my pupils; and neither of them have disgraced me. I pass over all the
fluctuations of a malady so fallacious as my sister's. Her approach to
the grave was so gradual, that at times she laughed at our precautions,
and beguiled us of our fears; but when on the confines of it, she was
untroubled, and spoke of her dissolution with serenity.
One day she told me that she had been writing to Lucretia, and wished
me to read the letter before she sealed it. I waved my hand, and
turned away my weeping eyes. "Well, I will not urge it," said she
putting in a wafer; "but I cannot die in peace, without assuring her,
that I sincerely forgive her. I am hastening to an abode, into which
no animosities can enter. I have none to impede my entrance; and the
time may come, when poor Lucretia will find a consolation in this
assurance. I have even recommended my poor child to her regard, as a
proof that I have pardoned her unkindness to me. The only sentiment I
now can feel for an offending fellow-creature," added she, wiping away
a starting tear, "_is compassion_; and I leave you to judge, Percival,
of that which now actuates my breast for a _sister_, the child of
the same parents, of a mother without equal in piety and humanity;
of a father!"--her voice sunk--"whom I grieved, perhaps more! Do not
think I have forgotten my Howard's noble spirit," continued she; "I
have not meanly sued for his child's bread. I have not an anxious care
for her as far as relates to her maintenance. I have resigned her to
_Providence_, and I leave her to you. But were I wholly to omit her in
a letter of this kind, it would, I think, have shewn a spirit of pride,
and of indifference to my child. Her aunt is rich in this world's
wealth, _she_ is poor. Lucretia may live to recollect her duty; and in
this destitute girl find an object who, without any claims of affinity,
will be worthy of her favours. Be not alarmed, my dear Percival,"
continued she, seeing my emotions, "indeed I have not said too much!
You ought to consider that you may be removed, and I have pointed out
to Lucretia, a _positive duty_; I have not solicited _her charity_."
Mrs. Wilson took charge of this letter. Some time after she returned,
her countenance glowing with resentment and the speed she had made.
"Thank God!" cried she, showing the letter, "there it is again! For
once I have my mind, and what is more, have _spoken_ my mind!" Mrs.
Howard took the letter with a trembling hand. "Why surely, my dear
lamb!" continued the affectionate woman, "you are not grieved that
your enemy will thus set her face against you! Her time is not yet
come for your tender mercies, for she is at variance with her Maker. I
told her so, _word for word_, and more than that; for I said Miss Mary
would never want her notice. She will remember me, I'll be sworn!"--My
sister was touched, though troubled, by this well-meant zeal, whilst I
only felt its justice. Two or three days passed, when the now rapidly
declining object of my tenderness gave me a packet directed to Miss
Flint. "Promise me," said she, "to deliver this into Lucretia's hand;
it is become indispensibly necessary that she should know I neither
meant to wound her feelings, nor to exasperate her temper. I conjure
you to promise me."--"Were she guarded by a legion of devils,"
exclaimed I, yielding to the anguish which tore my soul, "she shall
receive it from my hand into her own! She shall feel the misery which
she has caused!"--"Remember," replied she, "that the probe which is
not skillfully used must inflame. When you do meet her, remember _your
mother_!"
Her death soon followed. I was frantic in my grief. My passions would
not be opposed, and these brought the murderer of my comfort before me
in a sister's form. I swore solemnly that she should witness the ruin
she had effected; and that I would drag her to Mary's bed of death.
These violent agitations subsided to a more collected and determined
purpose of thought. I was incapable of receiving Greenwood's arguments,
and I was soothed by being left to my design. Greenwood performed the
last sad office. Preparations were made for receiving the remains of
Mrs. Howard, for the purpose of interment at his church, where her
husband was buried; but the hearse and coach stopped short of the
hall. Following the coffin I proceeded on foot to the great gate of
the house; and, bidding the bearers stop, I rang the bell with fury.
A man-servant answered my hasty summons; and, appalled by the object
in view, he stood motionless before me. "Tell Miss Flint," said I,
"that I must see her; that I am the bearer of a commission from the
_dead_, and that I will be numbered with the _dead_ before I leave this
spot if she refuses to admit me." Some little time elapsed: I was
admitted; and the trembling heiress, surrounded by her maid-servants,
and protected by Mr. Flamall, with terror met my slow approach. Flamall
broke the silence. He asked me what I had to say to Miss Flint. I waved
my hand. "Be wise!" said I, "this is no time for you."--He took the
advice and shrunk from my eye. I presented the packet to Lucretia;
she attempted to retreat on seeing the address. "You must take it,"
said I calmly: "nay, more, Lucretia, you must read the contents in my
presence: such are my orders; and before my Maker, have I sworn to
fulfil them."--"Give it to some one," cried she, covering her face;
"I promise to read it when I am able."--"That will not suffice,"
replied I, sitting down and bursting into agonizing tears; "I have no
apprehensions: a sister's dying blessing cannot injure, a sister's
forgiveness cannot wound you." She took the packet, broke the seals,
and, hastily glancing her eyes over the two letters it contained,
asked me, with rising anger, "whether I was satisfied with having
insulted her under her _own roof_?"--"Call it as you please," answered
I, sternly; "my business was not to compliment. I leave you with a
remedy you need. Profit from it, lest a worse thing befal you than my
insults." I instantly left her; and on my sainted Mary's grave wept my
feelings down to composure, Time, and my remaining comforts, healed, to
a certain degree, these breaches in my peace. I was at length summoned
to town with young Heartley, by his friend, to prepare for his voyage
to Calcutta. A month was employed in my cares for Heartley's son, and
my gratitude had its turn. I saw him embark with all the sanguine hopes
of youth, qualified by my care, for an honourable destination; and
gifted by nature with every virtuous and noble trait of his father's
character. He was under the protection of a man who loved that father,
and I contentedly went back to my lodgings in order to prepare for my
return home. My demands on my banker had been extended beyond their
usual course; and I had to settle my account with his books before my
departure. I called at his house, it had stopped payment; and in a week
or ten days detention in town I learned, that I might expect for the
remaining sum of five hundred pounds in his hands, a dividend of "five
shillings in the pound."
Mrs. Heartley was informed of this event by her London correspondents.
My philosophy did not console her; but it was shared by the Wilsons,
who observed "that the captain was quite in the right not to fret about
it, for that his comforts were in no danger of a bankruptcy."--From
this time my influence with them rose to a marked respect and
deference, and we had no difference in opinion but on quarter days.
About a year and a half since I received a letter from Miss Flint,
by the hand of our daily guest Malcolm Maclairn. "She wished to see
me, having something to propose which she trusted would heal the
differences between us." Mrs. Heartley's and Greenwood's arguments
prevailed. I went, and, after some prelude, she told me, that she had
been informed of the banker's insolvency, and was willing to relieve
me from the _burden_ of supporting Mary. I coldly replied that I had
never found her such. "Be it so," answered she, "I mean not in this
interview to offend you. I will take another mode of expression.
Consider whether a girl may not be as safe under an aunt's protection
as under an uncle's, and that you may die and leave her destitute. I
have lost sight of my brother Philip; I think she would amuse me; and
if you like the proposal send her, I will instruct her to be _useful_
at least."--"Ah, Lucretia!" cried I, "you may at this hour render
her so! Let this precious girl be the cement of our renewed ties of
nature!"--"I must first be assured that she has not been taught to
_hate me_," answered she, colouring: "neither my intentions nor your
wishes can be effected, if this be the case. Let her come; I wish
to know her, and she must remain a stranger to me whilst she is at
Wilson's; but we will at present drop the subject: in a week I shall
expect an answer."
She then detailed to me the miserable state of Sir Murdock Maclairn,
pitying his wife, who lived nearly altogether in his apartment. I
will pass over the struggles which ensued. Mary eagerly solicited my
consent. I saw her motive, and clasped her to my bosom. Mrs. Heartley
and Greenwood seconded her. "It was my duty to resign her."--"It
was incumbent on all to submit to necessity."--"It was Mary's future
support to have an interest with her aunt, and she could not fail
in humanizing her."--"By a refusal I was hardening her heart, and
perpetuating enmity."--You will distinguish the different speakers.
Greenwood's argument prevailed; for they breathed peace and love, and
reformation and pardon. I submitted, Miss Cowley, and conducted my
harmless, sweet child, to her unfeeling aunt; and I became a weekly
visitor at the hall. Surprised by her not coming to see her deserted
friends, I questioned her on the cause of her omission. "It will be
only for a time," replied she, in a caressing tone, "we must have
patience. My aunt fancies I shall not love her if I visit my dear
friends. It is unlucky that she should so much dislike them; but I
write to my Alice, and that is a comfort. When my aunt perceives that
I am obedient to her commands in this no little trial of my patience,
she will be more indulgent; in the mean time I am perfectly contented
with my situation, and you shall see that she will love me." Mrs.
Heartley approved of Mary's conduct, adding "Miss Howard must subdue
that inflexible woman, or she is lost to all hope."
You have seen the result! You have witnessed her aunt's obduracy! I
accept, with gratitude, your offered protection. Heaven has given you
the means, and a mind worthy of the donor! The time may not be far
remote when this destitute young woman will present herself before
you, weak in her youth, in her beauty, and in her purity. Shelter her,
Madam; the work will be honourable, and the recompence beyond what my
most fervent prayers of gratitude can reach.
I remain respectfully,
Your obliged humble servant,
Percival Flint.
P.S. I had intended to suppress one instance of the power of passion
over a mind unchecked by reason or religion. You will be tempted to
think it insanity. It might be as well could I _think thus_.
On Mr. Howard's bringing his wife to Wilson's, Miss Flint, in
transports of fury, flew to the apartment in which hung my mother's
picture, and with a hand animated by an implacable ferocity, she cut
and defaced the cherub face, which was its beauty. My sister Howard,
who was ignorant of this impotent act of revenge, often wished for this
picture; and I employed Malcolm's good offices with his brother Philip
to gain it. By this means I learned the incident, and consequently
diverted my sister's direct application from being made.