fruit of his toil to the public-house, where it is spent in company
with the idle and the vicious; that from thence he proceeds to the
pugilistic ring, and gambles away the remainder of his earnings,
while his mind is brutalized by the nature of the sport, and his
wife and children are left to starve. _Here_ you have no hesitation
in condemning such an appropriation of time and money; nor do I
believe that you would find any greater difficulty in bestowing
your praise upon the industrious father who, gathering his children
round the evening fire, can participate with the goodly partner
of his cares in the task of rearing a young family to virtuous
principles and prudent habits as his best happiness. Trust me, my
young friend, that in the higher classes of society we may trace
as much variety of character as in the humbler walks; and vice is
both as vulgar, and unholy, when varnished over by fashion, as it
is in those situations that present its deformity to view unveiled
by the gloss of rank and fortune. Why should recreation be found
only in the inanity of sloth, or the stimulus of dissipation? Is
such recreation worthy of a rational creature? I do not mean to
say that music and merriment are not very agreeable, but are these
less pleasing because they are not the _sole_ resources? Here are
my dear little nurses, whose kindness during a long and painful
illness I shall never forget. Do you think that I dreaded poison in
my cup, because Emily can translate Lucian, and Charlotte is not
perplexed by a quotation from Virgil?"
"Pray, pray, dear Phil." exclaimed Fanny, "say nothing about Greek
and Latin, lest Arthur, adopting the language of fashion, should
call the peaceable inhabitants of Glenalta, Blue-stockings."
"Indeed but I will," quoth Phil. "and, as I design to enlist Howard
as the champion of his cousins, I think it fair to tell him all
that he will have to defend."
Here was a pretty loop-hole for a civil speech, such as I did not
neglect, but declared my readiness to enter the lists, provided
that I was not to be considered a Don Quixote, prepared cap-à-pé,
to fight the battles of every distressed _Blue_, who might chance
to be attacked by an uncourteous enemy. "But, my good Sir," said
I, "since we have gone so far in this discussion, let me soberly
and seriously ask what is the _use_ of learning in a woman? Is
she handsomer, more lively, more attractive, for having her head
crammed with strange languages? If I am to be a champion, I must
begin my service by what may appear perhaps rather ungallant,
though I hope that the present company will acquit me of any design
to do otherwise than afford my _best_ service, provided that you
succeed in converting me from opinions which I have been brought up
in a belief are founded in nature and good sense."
"My dear fellow," replied Mr. Otway, "do not profane the names
of nature and good sense by identifying the one or the other
with fashion. I would appeal to your understanding, and if that
is not convinced of error, I would leave you to the prejudices
which you have imbibed. Let us then now fairly meet each other.
You ask, will women be made more beautiful, more lively, more
attractive, by being more instructed? Perhaps I may encounter a
laugh, if I answer yes; first, I always consider intelligence as
the greatest beautifier of a face, which, if handsome, is lit up
by an additional ray in every new exercise of the mental powers;
and if ugly is at least prevented from being stupid by cultivation.
But this will not satisfy you, because I assume the very thing
that you deny; so I will ask you, have men _a right_ to consider
women as objects merely of gratification to their eyes and ears?
Are not women endowed with sense and feeling; with high powers of
intellectual energy, and immortal spirits like men? Were these
gifts, think you, conferred for nothing but to be employed in the
arts of catching butterflies? No, no--
'Domestic bliss, that like a harmless dove
Can centre in a little nest,
All that desire would fly for through the world,'
is improved by all that gives variety and interest to the social
union of two souls destined to find the principal portion of their
happiness _at home_. The merely fashionable accomplishments can
last only for a season, and that very season which least requires
their aid, for youth and sprightliness are so full of elasticity
and joy, that were music, painting, &c. banished from the world,
there is a halcyon hour in the life of all, in which their
aids would not be missed, because they are not wanted; but the
summer-fly, which gaily flits in the warmth of a meridian beam,
ought not to be our model. Life, like every four and twenty hours,
has its morning and evening, then its night. Do not start, I am
not going to give you a homily; I would only call an intelligent
mind to a quiet investigation of truth, and farther ask, when time
steals the bloom from beauty's cheek, and the song, which once
charmed the ear has died away--when the fairy fingers have lost the
ease,
'Which marks security to please?'
When the nymph is changed into the matron, and the sylphid form of
eighteen is transformed into the "mother of many children," pray
what becomes of companionship which had rested its sole support
on the evanescent perfections of youth, the very nature of which
is to pass away like a morning dream? Would it not be wiser first
to consider the human species as formed for a world beyond this,
in which it is appointed 'to fret our little hour,' and to make a
vital sense of our _ultimate_ destination, the _primum mobile_ in
every scheme of existence? This is the grand, the principal, the
master-link of all earthly union, because it does not end here, but
binds the faster as terrestrial things wax nearer to a close. Upon
this broad base would not rational creatures, who are expressly
fashioned for each others' society in this world, naturally be
led to cultivate in common the greatest degree of intellectual
perfection? Do you believe that the ditinguishing, the ennobling
boon of reason is granted to _both_ sexes, to be only exercised by
a very limited number of _one_ sex, and lavished in thoughtless
waste by all the rest? Never entertain such an idea of the Creator,
who has made nothing without its end, purpose, and design. I do
not expect you to become a convert in the twinkling of an eye, but
I feel as if we should one day have you added to our ranks, a
staunch partisan of better views than those which you have learned
to advocate."
"Before you conclude," said I, "your introductory lecture upon
_Bluism_, you must hear my creed, such as I brought it to Glenalta.
Do not suppose that I think it possible for a society to be held
together without the bond of religion. Whatever errors I might have
been inclined to fall into, had I been left to myself, I have a
friend, and that a youthful one too, who has kept such a _watch_
upon my sayings, doings, and thinkings, as to preserve me at least
from the _grosser_ mistakes to which young men are liable who have
no Mentor to guide their course. I am thoroughly convinced that
religion is necessary in every community that aims at being well
ordered, and that women ought to be considered as peculiarly its
guardians; they are the nurses of young ideas, the first shoots of
which are directed by female solicitude, and it would never do to
have our _ladies_ turn infidels."
"Very well," said Mr. Otway, "here are some strong admissions.
You believe in the absolute necessity of religion in a well
constituted state, and you are right; for if all the restraints
which religion superadds to those arising out of mere moral fitness
and utility, be quite inadequate to render men virtuous, _a
fortiori_, they would not be better for increased latitude to do
evil."
"You _next_ admit that the most valuable of all things here,
because that which best secures peace on earth and happiness in
heaven, it is _peculiarly_ the province of the female part of
creation to protect with care, and distribute with zeal. Here is a
high trust--here is a mighty office, and it would naturally follow
from your acquiescence in reposing such confidence in a certain set
of people, that you must admit the propriety of rendering them fit
depositories for the sacred trust by some suitable preparation. Be
assured, my young friend, that a fashionable education will not
achieve this end. But you must not mistake me. I do not mean to
assert that there is any necromancy in learning _this_ language or
the other. I would only be understood to say that during the early
years of childhood there is time enough for much more than is
usually taught to girls from five to fifteen; and while the memory
is retentive, the curiosity fresh, and all the faculties ready for
action, it is a pity that food for the mind should not be provided
of a more substantial kind than is generally supplied. In learning
the dead, we attain the principles of living languages; we become
able to trace our own mother tongue to its source; we enlarge the
field of knowledge and of comparison; we search the Scriptures
with effect, because we are enabled to search them minutely; and
why should these advantages be denied to one half of the creation?
Woman's empire is peculiarly to be found in her _Home_. Whatever
adds dignity to her dominion, and variety to her pleasures in the
scene of them, I must ever maintain to be the best safeguard of
national virtue. Barbarism and excessive refinement are extremes
of a widely-extended series, and like all other extremes come
to meet at last. The selfishness of the former, exercises the
pre-eminence of animal strength in compelling the weaker sex to
endure the fatigue of cultivating the ground, and performing
every servile occupation, in order that the stronger may enjoy,
without interruption, the coarse and sensual gratifications which
constitute their happiness; while the equally selfish, but more
elegant sons of modern luxury, exert a tyranny not less despotic,
in reducing the female mind to that dull level best suited to
their own inglorious apathy and sloth. The matter can never rest
here. Providence has formed the sexes for each other; and the
mutual attraction is too powerful to be resisted. To regulate the
nature of this attraction is all that moral improvement can effect;
and I see with grief a mighty change in progress. Our young men
are (I speak not of all) cold, careless, rude, and covetous; our
youthful females are bred up as if for the stage, and as, with
all 'the means and appliances to boot,' the opera and the theatre
will always supply more finished specimens of singing, dancing,
and acting, than can be found elsewhere. We accordingly see that
many of our present generation of men are not ashamed of seeking
the companion of their lives, the wife of their bosoms, and the
mother of their future offspring, on the boards of Drury Lane
or Covent Garden: thus destroying whatever gives sweetness to
domestic retirement. An actress _may_ possess more worth than many
of the audience who gaze upon her through their glasses from the
surrounding boxes, but the charm of modesty can _hardly_ belong to
her who lives in perpetual exhibition; nor can the woman, whose
sole profession is the study of fictitious and, generally speaking,
unamiable characters, be expected to have much time for cultivating
her own character to the profit of an immortal soul."
"But, Sir, you speak of the theatre. Our young women of fashion
are not players; and supposing that they were, and that we must
all select our partners in the school of Thespis, would the study
of Homer and Simonides, of Virgil and Horace, be a remedy for the
evils of which you complain?"
"No, my dear Howard. I attach no magic to these authors. On the
contrary, there may be an overweening attachment to the ancients,
and there are still a few scholars of the old school who value
_every_ thing that comes to them in Greek or Latin cloathing,
and encumber their pages with quotations which have nothing to
recommend them beyond the mere learning which they exhibit. But,
returning to our argument, I deny your premises. You assert that
our young women of fashion are not actresses: I maintain that they
are."
"Aye, 'all the world's a stage,' now-a-days. Nature--beautiful,
refreshing Nature--is dismissed from what is technically called
'good society.' Too many of our youth of _one_ sex are become
horse-jockies, and pugilists--idle at school, dissipated at the
University, and ignorant of most things, except what contributes
to animal ease and luxury, they issue from the academic groves
in full-fledged folly, knowing little indeed of learning, either
ancient or modern, but well skilled in sauces and French wines.
They are well read in the last edition of Dr. Kitchener, they are
connoisseurs in eating and drinking, they can break their heads
in the fancy ring, and their hearts in a rowing match. But, alas!
how comparatively small the number of those who commence the
business of life well furnished with useful knowledge, learning,
taste, discretion! with all those qualities in short which ought
to distinguish man from the inferior creation! How often are we
disappointed when we cast our eyes around, in this polished age of
the world, in quest of the materials which are to supply our future
strength in every department of the State! A youth governed by
religious principle, his head stored with science and literature,
while his heart expands to _all_ the social ties of generous
affection, is the _only_ character to whom the interests of his
fellow-men may be fearlessly consigned; because he alone feels what
they truly are: and he only who has learned himself to bow with
respect to the wisdom of experience, and conform to the discipline
of moral rule may be trusted to watch over the happiness of others.
Yet such a being as this is a _rara avis in terris_, while the
degenerate race, which I before described, crowd our streets and
highways; and hope one day, through the influence of rank, to take
their seats upon our parliamentary benches, where they will vote
away our liberties, or relax them to license, just as interest
guides, or party governs. Believe me, my young friend, 'there is
something rotten in the state of Denmark;' and in turning our eyes
towards the other sex, the eye finds nothing on which to rest with
more complacency, except amongst the few who have sense enough to
perceive and courage sufficient to resist the tide of fashionable
folly. In what is called _the world_, it would seem that there is
a _guillotine_ established, to which every intellectual energy is
fitted by lopping off every germ that buds beyond the narrow limits
assigned as the modern standard. The heart is forced to undergo a
like operation; and all the young affections, timid respect, and
blushing reserve, which would seem to be the indigenous growth of
the female mind, are destroyed with as much zeal as the gardener
employs in restraining the luxuriance of his espaliers. Dressed to
a common model, both in mind and body, you pass from one automaton
to another, in a London drawing-room, without being conscious
that you change your place unless by the variety of glare in the
colours that surround you. These _effigies_ neither see, feel,
hear, nor understand, except as machines may appear to do. Likings,
dislikings, looks, words, and actions, all are artificial; and
natural disposition is only displayed when it is too late to
regulate its movements. Marriage, like the fifth act of a play,
brings matters to a conclusion, and our young ladies drive off from
the theatre to exhibit at home the materials which _really_ compose
their characters. It may be that vanity, only changing its diet, is
still fed to repletion; but should circumstances deny what habit
and education have taught to be the only good, disappointment will
have its revenge, a hecatomb of domestic victims must expiate the
crime of all who withhold the accustomed tribute that had been paid
to the attractions of youth."
I could not restrain a sigh. The portrait was sketched with
animation, and the features of it were familiar to me. Our _Phil._
proceeded:
"I do not _insist_ upon any of the acquirements which excite
such general terror. I see no specific for the evils which I
have prescribed in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chemistry, Botany, or
Mathematics. My only object is to deprecate ridicule, and to
ask for a little portion of that liberality which even descends
to _cant_ at the present day, in favour of all women of whatever
country, who are seeking mental improvement. Let us only have
an end of nick-names, which terrify the timorous; and, with the
enlightened policy which is beginning to operate in our financial
and commercial relations, let us renounce our narrow ideas of
monopoly, and open the way to a free trade of mind, unincumbered by
the taxes which retard its progress. Let us look a little higher
than Mrs. Montagu's formal _soirées_, and the quaint cerulean hosen
of Mr. Stillingfleet.
Fortunata la calza d'azzura e d'oro
Cosi dilett' al Febo e l'Aonio coro."
"Apollo and the Aonian choir do not seem to have made any
exclusions here. The blue and gold which are thus eulogized in
Ariosto, may be permitted to decorate the softer sex; and we have
no right to laugh them out of a costume which the gods themselves
proclaimed as the livery in common of all their votaries. But you
have been a patient listener to my inaugural lecture, and it
is time to give you a writ of ease. You must breakfast with me
to-morrow, and we shall find plenty of matter for more chat upon
the world and its ways."
"Oh dear Phil.," exclaimed Fanny, "how delightful it will be, if
Arthur, under your tuition, ceases to be woman-hater."
A burst of merriment at my expense, was the consequence. When I
protested that nothing could possibly be farther from my character,
and that I had rather the credit of being a _lady's_ man; her reply
was, "well it may be so, but if you wish to continue so vile a
system as Phil. has been describing, you would sacrifice one half
of the species to indulge the whims of the other."
Our little party now broke up; and after a very short interval we
found ourselves re-assembled in the drawing-room. It was agreed
upon that Mr. Otway's late illness rendered it imprudent for him
to risk the effects of evening air; and the whole family who
seemed actuated by one principle in renouncing _self_, immediately
declared their intention to amuse their guest and relinquish the
afternoon's ramble. We passed the evening, I cannot tell you how
pleasantly. My aunt is a charming person, and I cry _peccavi_.
Though her appearance is singularly striking, and the expression of
her face quite heavenly, dignity is the natural character of both.
Gentle as a lamb, there is no weakness about her. The mother shines
pre-eminently in all her conduct, and after one hour's observation
of her manners towards Mr. Otway, I felt as ready to contradict
my own suspicion which had wounded Emily's feelings as she could
possibly be herself.
You and I have often argued the point of second marriages, of which
I was always the advocate; more, I confess because we see them
every day in the first circles, than from thinking much upon the
subject one way or the other; but though I hardly as yet know why,
it would grieve me, were my aunt to marry again.
We had music, chess, and conversation, which never flagged, but
I cannot detail any more of this day's history. Phil. staid to
prayers, in which he joined with the appearance of genuine piety;
and I retired to my room, shall I own it, in a state of mind very
new, and by no means disagreeable. I felt excited without delirium,
such as succeeds the whirl of dissipation in town. My mind seemed
full, my heart glowed, and a sort of _reality_ appeared connected
with every thing around me at Glenalta, quite unlike what I have
ever experienced before. Do you know that I was inclined two
or three times this evening to turn hermit, and live in Kerry.
However, the fit will not last. The arrival of a stranger is always
met with something like a flourish of trumpets, which quickly
subsides, to say nothing of old Oliphant's return, which will tie a
log about our necks in a day or two.
As you _will_ have exact accounts of all that we say, as well as
do, I find that I must resume my narrative in another letter. This
has swelled to an unconscionable bulk. Good night. In my next
you may expect a description of _C[oe]lebs_ and his breakfast
at Lisfarne, whither I must go alone as the cousinhood seemed
determined on giving a welcome to old Squaretoes, the tutor, _en
masse_. How primitive! Vale.
Ever your affectionate friend,
ARTHUR HOWARD.
LETTER VI.
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
My dear Falkland,
"Early to bed and early to rise,
Is the way to be healthy and wealthy and wise."
If this be true, as the old spelling books have it, and as I saw
confirmed to day, by the authority of a village schoolmaster, who
had a large class operating upon the above sapient apophthegm,
which served as a copy in the school, and which I have adopted
for the heading of my letter instead of an extract from some "old
play," I may come out at last a goodly example of rosy cheeks, full
pockets, and well-stored pericranium, for here I am living a life
worthy of Hygeia herself. I was up at six o'clock this morning, and
according to an arrangement with Emily, had an hour's walk with her
before I set out for Lisfarne. When we were retiring last night,
I heard her whisper to Frederick that she meant to visit "Susan"
in the morning, and on inquiry, I found that the said Susan is a
poor woman residing in the mountain, for whom some present had been
prepared. Now, it occurred to me that before I saw Mr. Otway at
his own house, and particularly as I was to encounter him _alone_,
I should like to hear the sketch of his history, which Emily had
promised me at a future day, so following her to the foot of the
stairs, I told her how entirely I repented my error, and requested
her perfect forgiveness, proposing that she should seal my pardon
by allowing me to be her mountain beau; and moreover, that she
should come to our morning's walk prepared to gratify my curiosity.
My petition was granted; a brilliant sun-rise invited us to perform
our mutual engagement, and we had not made much way in the rugged
ascent towards Susan Lambert's wild abode, followed by Paddy, the
running footman upon such occasions, who trotted after us with a
large basket, well stuffed with I knew not what, when I reminded
Emily of her task, and she gave me the narrative, which I shall try
to convey as briefly as I can of Phil's Life and Character.