Florence.
My dear Tom,--I have had a busy week of it, and even now I scarcely
perceive that the day is come when I can rest and repose myself. The
pleasure-life of this same capital is a very exhausting process, and
to do the thing well, a man's constitution ought to be in as healthy a
condition as his cash account! Now, Tom, it is an unhappy fact, that I
am a very "low letter" in both person and pocket, and I should be sorely
puzzled to say whether I find it harder to dance or to pay for the
music!
Don't fancy that I 'm grumbling, now; not a bit of it, old fellow; I
have had my day, and as pleasant a one as most men. And if a man starts
in life with a strong fund of genial liking for his fellows, enjoying
society less for its display than for its own resources in developing
the bright side of human nature, take my word for it, he 'll carry on
with him, as he goes, memories and recollections enough to make his road
agreeable, and, what is far better, to render himself companionable to
others.
You tell me you want to hear "all about Florence,"--a modest request,
truly! Why, man, I might fill a volume with my own short experiences,
and afterwards find that the whole could be condensed into a foot-note
for the bottom of a page. In the first place, there are at least half a
dozen distinct aspects in this place, which are almost as many cities.
There is the Florence of Art,--of pictures, statues, churches, frescos,
a town of unbounded treasures in objects of high interest. There are
galleries, where a whole life might be passed in cultivating the eye,
refining the taste, and elevating the imagination. There is the Florence
of Historical Association, with its palaces recalling the feudal age,
and its castellated strongholds, telling of the stormy times before the
"Medici." There is not a street, there is scarcely a house, whose name
does not awaken some stirring event, and bring you back to the period
when men were as great in crime as in genius. Here an inscription tells
you Benvenuto Cellini lived and labored; yonder was the window of his
studio; there the narrow street through which he walked at nightfall,
his hand upon his rapier, and his left arm well enveloped in his mantle;
there the stone where Dante used to sit; there the villa Boccaccio
inhabited; there the lone tower where Galileo watched; there the house,
unchanged in everything, of the greatest of them all, Michael Angelo
himself. The pen sketches of his glorious conceptions adorn the walls,
the half-finished models of his immortal works are on the brackets. That
splendid palace on the sunny Arno was Alfieri's. Go where you will, in
fact, a gorgeous story of the past reveals itself before you, and you
stand before the great triumphs of human genius, with the spirit of the
authors around and about you.
There is also Florence the Beautiful and the Picturesque; Florence the
City of Fashion and Splendor; and, saddest of all, Florence garrisoned
by the stranger, and held in subjection by the Austrian!
I entertain no bigoted animosity to the German, Tom; on the contrary,
I like him; I like his manly simplicity of character, his thorough good
faith, his unswerving loyalty; but I own to you, his figure is out of
keeping with the picture here,--the very tones of his harsh gutturals
grate painfully on the ears attuned to softer sounds. It is pretty
nearly a hopeless quarrel when a Sovereign has recourse to a foreign
intervention between himself and his subjects; as in private life, there
is no reconciliation when you have once called Doctors' Commons to your
councils. You may get damages; you 'll never have tranquillity. You 'll
say, perhaps, the thing was inevitable, and could n't be helped. Nothing
of the kind. Coercing the Tuscans by Austrian bayonets was like herding
a flock of sheep with bull-dogs. I never saw a people who so little
require the use of strong measures; the difficulty of ruling them lies
not in their spirit of resistance, but in its very opposite,--a plastic
facility of temper that gives way to every pressure. Just like a horse
with an over-fine mouth, you never can have him in hand, and never know
that he has stumbled till he is down.
It was the duty of our Government to have prevented this occupation,
or at least to have set some limits to its amount and duration. We
did neither, and our influence has grievously suffered iu consequence.
Probably at no recent period of history was the name of England so
little respected in the entire peninsula as at present. And now, if I
don't take care, I 'll really involve myself in a grumbling revery, so
here goes to leave the subject at once.
These Italians, Tom, are very like the Irish. There is the same
blending of mirth and melancholy in the national temperament, the
same imaginative cast of thought, the same hopefulness, and the same
indolence. In justice to our own people, I must say that they are the
better of the two. Paddy has strong attachments, and is unquestionably
courageous; neither of these qualities are conspicuous here. It would
be ungenerous and unjust to pronounce upon the _naturel_ of a people
who for centuries have been subjected to every species of misrule, whose
moral training has been also either neglected or corrupted, and whose
only lessons have been those of craft and deception. It would be worse
than rash to assume that a people so treated were unfitted for a freedom
they never enjoyed, or un suited to a liberty they never even heard of.
Still, I may be permitted to doubt that Constitutional Government will
ever find its home in the hearts of a Southern nation. The family,
Tom,--the fireside, the domestic habits of a Northern people, are the
normal schools for self-government. It is in the reciprocities of a
household men learn to apportion their share of the burdens of life, and
to work for the common weal. The fellow who with a handful of chestnuts
can provision himself for a whole day, and who can pass the night
under the shade of a fig-tree, acknowledges no such responsibilities.
All-sufficing to himself, he recognizes no claims upon him for exertion
in behalf of others; and as to the duties of citizenship, he would
repudiate them as an intolerable burden. Take ray word for it,
Parliamentary Institutions will only flourish where you have coal-fires
and carpets, and Elective Governments have a close affinity to
easy-chairs and hearth-rugs!
You are curious to learn "how far familiarity with works of high art may
have contributed to influence the national character of Italy." I
don't like to dogmatize on such a subject, but so far as my own narrow
experience goes, I am far from attributing any high degree of culture
to this source. I even doubt whether objects of beauty suggest a high
degree of enjoyment, except to intellects already cultivated. I suspect
that your men of Glasgow or Manchester, who never saw anything more
artistic than a power-loom and a spinning-jenny, would stand favorable
comparison with him who daily passes beside the "Dying Gladiator" or the
Farnese Hercules.
Of course I do not extend this opinion to the educated classes, amongst
whom there is a very high range of acquirement and cultivation. They
bring, moreover, to the knowledge of any subject a peculiar subtlety
of perception, a certain Machiavellian ingenuity, such as I have never
noticed elsewhere. A great deal of the national distrustful-ness and
suspicion has its root in this very habit, and makes me often resigned
to Northern dulness for the sake of Northern reliance and good faith.
They are most agreeable in all the intercourse of society. Less full
of small attentions than the French, less ceremonious than the Germans,
they are easier in manner than either. They are natural to the very
verge of indifference; but above all their qualities stands pre-eminent
their good nature. An ungenerous remark, a harsh allusion, an unkind
anecdote, are utterly unknown amongst them, and all that witty smartness
which makes the success of a French _salon_ would find no responsive
echo in an Italian drawing-room. In a word, Tom, they are eminently a
people to live amongst They do not contribute much, but they exact
as little; and if never broken-hearted when you separate, they are
delighted when you meet; falling in naturally with your humor, tolerant
of anything and everything, except what gives trouble.
There now, my dear Tom, are all my Italian experiences in a few words.
I feel that by a discreet use of my material I might have made a tureen
with what I have only filled a teaspoon; but as I am not writing for the
public, but only for Tom Purcell, I 'll not grumble at my wastefulness.
Of the society, what can I say that would not as well apply to any city
of the same size as much resorted to by strangers? The world of fashion
is pretty much the same thing everywhere; and though we may "change the
venue," we are always pleading the same cause. They tell me that social
liberty here is understood in a very liberal sense, and the right of
private judgment on questions of morality exercised with a more than
Protestant independence. I hear of things being done that could not be
done elsewhere, and so on; but were I only to employ my own unassisted
faculties, I should say that everything follows its ordinary routine,
and that profligacy does not put on in Florence a single "travesty" that
I have not seen at Brussels and Baden, and twenty similar places! True,
people know each other very well, and discuss each other in all the
privileged candor close friendship permits. This sincerity, abused
as any good thing is liable to be, now and then grows scandalous; but
still, Tom, though they may bespatter you with mud, nobody ever thinks
you too dirty for society. In point of fact, there is a great deal of
evil speaking, and very little malevolence; abundance of slander, but
scarcely any ill-will. Mark you, these are what they tell me; for up
to this moment I have not seen or heard anything but what has pleased
me,--met much courtesy and some actual cordiality. And surely, if a
man can chance upon a city where the climate is good, the markets well
supplied, the women pretty, and the bankers tractable, he must needs be
an ill-conditioned fellow not to rest satisfied with his good fortune.
I don't mean to Bay I 'd like to pass my life here, no more than I would
like to wear a domino, and spend the rest of my days in a masquerade,
for the whole thing is just as unreal, just as unnatural; but it is
wonderfully amusing for a while, and I enjoy it greatly.
From what I have seen of the world of pleasure, I begin to suspect that
we English people are never likely to have any great success in our
attempts at it; and for this simple reason, that we bring to our social
hours exhausted bodies and fatigued minds; we labor hard all day in law
courts or counting-houses or committee-rooms, and when evening comes are
overcome by our exertions, and very little disposed for those efforts
which make conversation brilliant, or intercourse amusing. Your
foreigner, however, is a chartered libertine. He feels that nature never
meant him for anything but idleness; he takes to frivolity naturally
and easily; and, what is of no small importance too, without any loss
of self-esteem! Ah, Tom! that is the great secret of it all. We never
do our fooling gracefully. There is everlastingly rising up within us a
certain bitter conviction that we are not doing fairly by ourselves, and
that our faculties might be put to better and more noble uses than we
have engaged them in. We walk the stage of life like an actor ashamed
of his costume, and "our motley" never sets easily on us to the last. I
think I had better stop dogmatizing, Tom. Heaven knows where it may lead
me, if I don't. Old Woodcock says that "he might have been a vagabond,
if Providence had n't made him a justice of the peace;" so I feel that
it is not impossible I might have been a moral philosopher, if fate had
n't made me the husband of Mrs. Dodd.
Wednesday Afternoon.
My dear Tom,--I had thought to have despatched this prosy epistle
without being obliged to inflict you with any personal details of the
Dodd family. I was even vaunting to myself that I had kept us all
"out of the indictment," and now I discover that I have made a signal
failure, and the codicil must revoke the whole body of the testament.
How shall I ever get my head clear enough to relate all I want to tell
you? I go looking after a stray idea the way I 'd chase a fellow in
a crowded fair or market, catching a glimpse of him now--losing him
again--here, with my hand almost on him,--and the next minute no sign of
him! Try and follow me, however; don't quit me for a moment; and, above
all, Tom, whatever vagaries I may fall into, be still assured that I
have a road to go, if I only have the wit to discover it!
First of all about Morris, or Sir Morris, as I ought to call him. I
told you in my last how warmly he had taken up Mrs. D.'s cause, and how
mainly instrumental was he in her liberation. This being accomplished,
however, I could not but perceive that he inclined to resume the cold
and distant tone he had of late assumed towards us, and rather retire
from, than incur, any renewal of our intimacy. When I was younger in the
world, Tom, I believe I'd have let him follow his humor undisturbed; but
with more mature experience of life, I have come to see that one often
sacrifices a real friendship in the indulgence of some petty regard to
a ceremonial usage, and so I resolved at least to know the why, if I
could, of Morris's conduct.
I went frankly to him at his hotel, and asked for an explanation.
He stared at me for a second or two without speaking, and then said
something about the shortness of my memory,--a recent circumstance,--and
such like, that I could make nothing of. Seeing my embarrassment, he
appeared slightly irritated, and proceeded to unlock a writing-desk on
the table before him, saying hurriedly,--
"I shall be able to refresh your recollection, and when you read over--"
He stopped, clasped his hand to his forehead suddenly, and, as if
overcome, threw himself down into a seat, deeply agitated. "Forgive me,"
said he at length, "if I ask you a question or two. You remember being
ill at Genoa, don't you?"
"Perfectly."
"You can also remember receiving a letter from me at that time?"
"No,--nothing of the kind!"
"No letter?--you received no letter of mine?"
"None!"
"Oh, then, this must really--" He paused, and, overcoming what I saw
was a violent burst of indignation, he walked the room up and down for
several minutes. "Mr. Dodd," said he to me, taking ray hand in both his
own, "I have to entreat your forgiveness for a most mistaken impression
on my part influencing me in my relations, and suggesting a degree of
coldness and distrust which, owing to your manliness of character alone,
has not ended in our estrangement forever. I believed you had been in
possession of a letter from me; I thought until this moment that it
really had reached you. I now know that I was mistaken, and have only to
express my sincere contrition for having acted under a rash credulity."
He went over this again and again, always, as it seemed to me, as
if about to say more, and then suddenly checking himself under what
appeared to be a quickly remembered reason for reserve.
I was getting impatient at last. I thought that the explanation
explained little, and was really about to say so; but he anticipated me
by saying, "Believe me, my dear sir, any suffering, any unhappiness that
my error has occasioned, has fallen entirely upon me. _You_ at least
have nothing to complain of. The letter which ought to have reached you
contained a proposal from me for the hand of your younger daughter;
a proposal which I now make to you, happily, in a way that cannot be
frustrated by an accident." He went on to press his suit, Tom, eagerly
and warmly; but still with that scrupulous regard to truthfulness I
have ever remarked in him. He acknowledged the difference in age, the
difference in character, the disparity between Cary's joyous, sunny
nature and his own colder mood; but he hoped for happiness, on grounds
so solid and so reasonable that showed me much of his own thoughtful
habit of mind.
Of his fortune, he simply said that it was very far above all his
requirements; that he himself had few, if any, expensive tastes, but was
amply able to indulge such in a wife, if she were disposed to cultivate
them. He added that he knew my daughter had always been accustomed to
habits of luxury and expense, always lived in a style that included
every possible gratification, and therefore, if not in possession of
ample means, he never would have presumed on his present offer.
I felt for a moment the vulgar pleasure that such flattery confers. I
own to you, Tom, I experienced a degree of satisfaction at thinking
that even to the observant eyes of Morris himself,--old soldier as he
was,--the Dodds had passed for brilliant and fashionable folk, in the
fullest enjoyment of every gift of fortune; but as quickly a more honest
and more manly impulse overcame this thought, and in a few words I told
him that he was totally mistaken; that I was a poor, half-ruined Irish
gentleman, with an indolent tenantry and an encumbered estate; that our
means afforded no possible pretension to the style in which we lived,
nor the society we mixed in; that it would require years of patient
economy and privation to repay the extravagance into which our foreign
tour had launched us; and that, so convinced was I of the inevitable
ruin a continuance of such a life must incur, I had firmly resolved to
go back to Ireland at the end of the present month and never leave it
again for the rest of my days.
I suppose I spoke warmly, for I felt deeply. The shame many of the
avowals might have cost me in calmer mood was forgotten now, in my
ardent determination to be honest and above-board. I was resolved,
too, to make amends to my own heart for all the petty deceptions I had
descended to in a former case, and, even at the cost of the loss of a
son-in-law, to secure a little sense of self-esteem.
He would not let me finish, Tom, but, grasping my hand in his with a
grip I did n't believe he was capable of, he said,--
"Dodd,"--he forgot the Mr. this time,--"Dodd, you are an honest,
true-hearted fellow, and I always thought so. Consent now to my
entreaty,--at least do not refuse it,--and I 'd not exchange my
condition with that of any man in Europe!"
Egad, I could not have recognized him as he spoke, for his cheek colored
up, and his eye flashed, and there was a dash of energy about him I had
never detected in his nature. It was just the quality I feared he was
deficient in. Ay, Tom, I can't deny it, old Celt that I am, I would n't
give a brass farthing for a fellow whose temperament cannot be warmed up
to some burst of momentary enthusiasm!
Of my hearty consent and my good wishes I speedily assured him, just
adding, "Cary must say the rest." I told him frankly that I saw it was
a great match for my daughter; that both in rank and fortune he was
considerably above what she might have looked for; but with all that, if
she herself would n't have taken him in his days of humbler destiny, my
advice would be, "don't have him now."
He left me for a moment to say something to his mother,--I suppose some
explanation about this same letter that went astray, and of which I can
make nothing,--and then they came back together. The old lady seemed
as well pleased as her son, and told me that his choice was her own in
every respect. She spoke of Cary with the most hearty affection; but
with all her praise of her, she does n't know half her real worth; but
even what she did say brought the tears to my eyes,--and I 'm afraid I
made a fool of myself!
You may be sure, Tom, that it was a happy day with me, although, for a
variety of reasons, I was obliged to keep my secret for my own heart.
Morris proposed that he should be permitted to wait on us the next
morning, to pay his respects to Mrs. D. upon her liberation, and thus
his visit might be made the means of reopening our acquaintance. You'd
think that to these arrangements, so simple and natural, one might
look forward with an easy tranquillity. So did I, Tom,--and so was I
mistaken. Mr. James, whose conduct latterly seems to have pendulated
between monastic severity and the very wildest dissipation, takes it
into his wise head that Morris has insulted him. He thinks--no, not
thinks, but dreams--that this calm-tempered, quiet gentleman is pursuing
an organized system of outrage towards him, and has for a time back made
him the mark of his sarcastic pleasantry. Full of this sage conceit,
he hurries on to his hotel, to offer him a personal insult. They
fortunately do not meet; but James, ordering pen and paper, sits down
and indites a letter. I have not seen it; but even his friend considers
it to have been "a step ill-advised and inconsiderate,--in fact, to be
deeply regretted."
I cannot conjecture what might have been Morris's conduct under other
circumstances, but in his present relations to myself, he saw probably
but one course open to him. He condescended to overlook the terms of
this insulting note, and calmly asked for an explanation of it. By great
good luck, James had placed the affair in young Belton's hands,--our
former doctor at Bruff,--who chanced to be on his way through here; and
thus, by the good sense of one, and the calm temper of the other, this
rash boy has been rescued from one of the most causeless quarrels ever
heard of. James had started for Modena, I believe, with a carpet-bag
full of cigars, a French novel, and a bullet-mould; but before he had
arrived at his destination, Morris, Belton, and myself were laughing
heartily over the whole adventure.. Morris's conduct throughout the
entire business raised him still higher in my esteem; and the consummate
good tact with which he avoided the slightest reflection that might pain
me on my son's score, showed me that he was a thorough gentleman. I must
say, too, that Belton behaved admirably. Brief as has been his residence
abroad, he has acquired the habits of a perfect man of the world, but
without sacrificing a jot of his truly frank and generous temperament.
Ah, Tom! it was not without some sharp self-reproaches that I saw this
young fellow, poor and friendless as he started in life, struggling with
that hard fate that insists upon a man's feeling independent in spirit,
and humble in manner, fighting that bitter battle contained in
a dispensary doctor's life, emerge at once into an accomplished,
well-informed gentleman, well versed in all the popular topics of
the day, and evidently stored with a deeper and more valuable kind of
knowledge,--I say, I saw all this, and thought of my own boy, bred
up with what were unquestionably greater advantages and better
opportunities of learning, not obliged to adventure on a career in his
mere student years, but with ample time and leisure for cultivation; and
yet there he was,--there he is, this minute,--and there is not a station
nor condition in life wherein he could earn half a crown a day. He was
educated, as it is facetiously called, at Dr. Stingem's school. He read
his Homer and Virgil, wrote his false quantities, and blundered
through his Greek themes, like the rest. He went through--it's a
good phrase--some books of Euclid, and covered reams of foolscap with
equations; and yet, to this hour, he can't translate a classic, nor do a
sum in common arithmetic, while his handwriting is a cuneiform character
that defies a key: and with all that, the boy is not a fool, nor
deficient in teachable qualities. I hope and trust this system is coming
to an end. I wish sincerely, Tom, that we may have seen the last of
a teaching that for one whom it made accomplished and well-informed,
converted fifty into pedants, and left a hundred dunces! Intelligible
spelling, and readable writing, a little history, and the "rule of
three," some geography, a short course of chemistry and practical
mathematics,--that's not too much, I think,--and yet I 'd be easy in
my mind if James had gone that far, even though he were ignorant of
"spondees," and had never read a line of that classic morality they call
the Heathen Mythology. I'd not have touched upon this ungrateful theme,
but that my thoughts have been running on the advantages we were to have
derived from our foreign tour, and some misgivings stinking me as to
their being realized.
Perhaps we are not very docile subjects, perhaps we set about the thing
in a wrong way, perhaps we had not stored our minds with the preliminary
knowledge necessary, perhaps--anything you like, in short; but here we
are, in all essentials, as ignorant of everything a residence abroad
might be supposed to teach, as though we had never quitted Dodsborough.
Stop--I'm going too fast--we _have_ learned some things not usually
acquired at home; we have attained to an extravagant passion for dress,
and an inordinate love of grand acquaintances. Mary Anne is an advanced
student in modern French romance literature; James no mean proficient
at ecarte; Mrs. D. has added largely to the stock of what she calls her
"knowledge of life," by familiar intimacy with a score of people who
ought to be at the galleys; and I, with every endeavor to oppose the
tendency, have grown as suspicious as a government spy, and as meanly
inquisitive about other people's affairs as though I were prime minister
to an Italian prince.
We have lost that wholesome reserve with respect to mere acquaintances,
and by which our manner to our friends attained to its distinctive signs
of cordiality, for now we are on the same terms with all the world. The
code is, to be charmed with everything and everybody,--with their looks,
with their manners, with their house and their liveries, with their
table and their "toilette,"--ay, even with their vices! There is the
great lesson, Tom; you grow lenient to everything save the reprobation
of wrong, and _that_ you set down for rank hypocrisy, and cry out
against as the blackest of all the blemishes of humanity.
Nor is it a small evil that our attachment to home is weakened, and even
a sense of shame engendered with respect to a hundred little habits
and customs that to foreign eyes appear absurd--and perhaps vulgar.
And lastly comes the great question, How are we ever to live in our own
country again, with all these exotic notions and opinions? I don't mean
how are _we_ to bear _Ireland_, but how is _Ireland_ to endure us! An
American shrewdly remarked to me t' other day, "that one of the greatest
difficulties of the slave question was, how to emancipate the slave
_owners_; how to liberate the shackles of their rusty old prejudices,
and fit them to stand side by side with real freemen." And in a vast
variety of questions you 'll often discover that the puzzle is on the
side opposite to that we had been looking at. In this way do I feel that
all my old friends will have much to overlook,--much to forgive in my
present moods of thinking. I 'll no more be able to take interest in
home politics again than I could live on potatoes! My sympathies are now
more catholic. I can feel acutely for Schleswig-Holstein, or the Druses
at Lebanon. I am deeply interested about the Danubian Provinces, and
strong on Sebastopol; but I regard as contemptible the cares of a
quarter sessions, or the business of the "Union." If you want me to
listen, you must talk of the Cossacks, or the war in the Caucasus; and I
am far less anxious about who may be the new member for Bruff, than who
will be the next "Vladica" of "Montenegro."
These ruminations of mine might never come to a conclusion, Tom, if
it were not that I have just received a short note from Belton, with a
pressing entreaty that he may see me at once on a matter of importance
to myself, and I have ordered a coach to take me over to his hotel. If I
can get back in time for post hour, I 'll be able to explain the reason
of this sudden call, till when I say adieu.
LETTER XXXI. MISS CAROLINE DODD TO MISS COX, AT MISS MINCINGS ACADEMY,
BLACK ROCK, IRELAND.
Florence.
My dearest Miss Cox,--It would be worse than ingratitude in me were I
to defer telling you how happy I am, and with what a perfect shower of
favors Fortune has just overwhelmed me! Little thought I, a few weeks
back, that Florence was to become to me the spot nearest and dearest to
my heart, associated as it is, and ever must be, with the most blissful
event of my life! Sir Penrhyn Morris, who, from some unexplained
misconception, had all but ceased to know us, was accidentally thrown
in our way by the circumstance of mamma's imprisonment. By his kind and
zealous aid her liberation was at length accomplished, and, as a matter
of course, he called to make his inquiries after her, and receive our
grateful acknowledgments.
I scarcely can tell--my head is too confused to remember--the steps by
which he retraced his former place in our intimacy. It is possible there
may have been explanations on both sides. I only know that he took his
leave one morning with the very coldest of salutations, and appeared
on the next day with a manner of the deepest devotion, so evidently
directed towards myself that it would have been downright affectation to
appear indifferent to it.
He asked me in a low and faltering voice if I would accord him a few
moments' interview. He spoke the words with a degree of effort at
calmness that gave them a most significant meaning, and I suddenly
remembered a certain passage in one of your letters to me, wherein you
speak of the inconsiderate conduct which girls occasionally pursue in
accepting the attentions of men whose difference in age would seem to
exclude them from the category of suitors. So far from having incurred
this error, I had actually retreated from any advances on his part,
not from the disparity of our ages, but from the far wider gulfs that
separated _his_ highly cultivated and informed mind from _my_ ungifted
and unstored intellect. Partly in shame at my inferiority, partly with a
conscious sense of what his impression of me must be, I avoided, so far
as I could, his intimacy; and even when domesticated with him, I sought
for occupations in which he could not join, and estranged myself from
the pursuits which he loved to practise.
Oh, my dear, kind governess, how thoroughly I recognize the truthfulness
of all your views of life; how sincerely I own that I have never
followed them without advantage, never neglected them without loss! How
often have you told me that "dissimulation is never good;" that, however
speciously we may persuade ourselves that in feigning a part we are
screening our self-esteem from insult, or saving the feelings of others,
the policy is ever a bad one; and that, "if our sincerity be only allied
with an honest humility, it never errs." The pains I took to escape from
the dangerous proximity of his presence suggested to him that I disliked
his attentions, and desired to avoid them; and acting on this conviction
it was that he made a journey to England during the time I was a visitor
at his mother's. It would appear, however, that his esteem for me had
taken a deeper root than he perhaps suspected, for on his return his
attentions were redoubled, and I could detect that in a variety of
ways his feelings towards me were not those of mere friendship. Of mine
towards him I will conceal nothing from you. They were deep and intense
admiration for qualities of the highest order, and as much of love as
consisted with a kind of fear,--a sense of almost terror lest he should
resent the presumption of such affection as mine.
You already know something of our habits of life abroad,--wasteful
and extravagant beyond all the pretensions of our fortune. It was a
difficult thing for me to carry on the semblance of our assumed position
so as not to throw discredit upon my family, and at the same time avoid
the dis-ingenuousness of such a part. The struggle, from which I saw no
escape, was too much for me, and I determined to leave the Morrises and
return home,--to leave a house wherein I already had acquired the first
steps of the right road in life, and go back to dissipations in which I
felt no pleasure, and gayeties that never enlivened! I did not tell
you all this at the time, my dear friend, partly because I had not
the courage for it, and partly that the avowal might seem to throw a
reproach on those whom my affection should shield from even a criticism.
If I speak of it now, it is because, happily, the theme is one hourly
discussed amongst us in all the candor of true frankness. We have no
longer concealments, and we are happy.
It may have been that the abruptness of my departure offended Captain
Morris, or, possibly, some other cause produced the estrangement; but,
assuredly, he no longer cultivated the intimacy he had once seemed so
ardently to desire, and, until the event of mamma's misfortune here, he
ceased to visit us.
And now came the interview I have alluded to! Oh, my dearest friend, if
there be a moment in life which combines within it the most exquisite
delight with the most torturing agony, it is that in which an affection
is sought for by one who, immeasurably above us in all the gifts of
fortune, still seems to feel that there is a presumption in his demand,
and that his appeal may be rejected. I know not how to speak of that
conflict between pride and shame, between the ecstasy of conquest and
the innate sense of the unworthiness that had won the victory!
Sir Penrhyn thought, or fancied he thought, me fond of display and
splendor,--that in conforming to the quiet habits of his mother's house,
I was only submitting with a good grace to privations. I undeceived him
at once. I confessed, not without some shame, that I was in a manner
unsuited to the details of an exalted station,--that wealth and its
accompaniments would, in reality, be rather burdens than pleasure to one
whose tastes were humble as my own,--that, in fact, I was so little of a
"Grande Dame" that I should inevitably break down in the part, and
that no appliances of mere riches could repay for the onerous duties of
dispensing them.
"In so much," interrupted he, with a half-smile, "that you would prefer
a poor man to a rich one?"
"If you mean," said I, "a poor man who felt no shame in his poverty,
in comparison with a rich man who felt his pride in his wealth, I say,
Yes."
"Then what say you to one who has passed through both ordeals," said he,
"and only asks that you should share either with him to make him happy?"
I have no need to tell you my answer. It satisfied _him_, and made mine
the happiest heart in the world. And now we are to be married, dearest,
in a fortnight or three weeks,--as soon, in fact, as maybe; and then we
are to take a short tour to Rome and Naples, where Sir Penrhyn's yacht
is to meet us; after which we visit Malta, coast along Spain, and home.
Home sounds delightfully when it means all that one's fondest fancies
can weave of country, of domestic happiness, of duties heartily entered
on, and of affections well repaid.
Penrhyn is very splendid; the castle is of feudal antiquity, and the
grounds are princely in extent and beauty. Sir Morris is justly proud
of his ancestral possessions, and longs to show me its stately
magnificence; but still more do I long for the moment when my dear Miss
Cox will be my guest, and take up her quarters in a certain little room
that opens on a terraced garden overlooking the sea. I fixed on the spot
the very instant I saw a drawing of the castle, and I am certain you
will not find it in your heart to refuse me what will thus make up the
perfect measure of my happiness.
In all the selfishness of my joy, I have forgotten to tell you of
Florence; but, in truth, it would require a calmer head than mine to
talk of galleries and works of art while my thoughts are running on the
bright realities of my condition. It is true we go everywhere and see
everything, but I am in such a humor to be pleased that I am delighted
with all, and can be critical to nothing. I half suspect that art, as
art, is a source of pleasure to a very few. I mean that the number is a
limited one which can enter into all the minute excellences of a great
work, appreciate justly the difficulties overcome, and value deservingly
the real triumph accomplished. For myself, I know and feel that painting
has its greatest charm for me in its power of suggestiveness, and,
consequently, the subject is often of more consequence than the
treatment of it; not that I am cold to the chaste loveliness of a
Raphael, or indifferent to the gorgeous beauty of a Giordano. They
appeal to me, however, in somewhat the same way, and my mind at once
sets to work upon an ideal character of the creation before me. That
this same admiration of mine is a very humble effort at appreciating
artistic excellence, I want no better proof than the fact that it is
exactly what Betty Cobb herself felt on being shown the pictures in "the
Pitti." Her honest worship of a Madonna at once invested her with every
attribute of goodness, and the painter, could he only have heard the
praises she uttered, might have revelled in the triumph of an art that
can rise above the mere delineation of external beauty. That the appeal
to her own heart was direct, was evidenced by her constant reference to
some living resemblance to the picture before her. Now it was a
saintly hermit by Caracci,--that was the image of Peter Delany at
the cross-roads; now it was a Judas,--that was like Tom Noon of the
turnpike; and now it was a lovely head by Titian,--the "very moral of
Miss Kitty Doolan, when her hair was down about her." I am certain, my
dearest Miss Cox, that the delight conveyed by painting and music is
a much more natural pleasure than that derived from the enjoyment of
imaginary composition by writing. The appeal is not alone direct, but
it is in a manner the same to all,--to the highest king upon the throne,
and to the lowly peasant, as in meek wonder he stands entranced and
enraptured.
But why do I loiter within doors when it is of Florence itself, of its
sunny Arno, of its cypress-crowned San Miniato, and of the villa-clad
Fiezole I would tell you! But even these are so interwoven with the
frame of mind in which I now enjoy them, that to speak of them would be
again to revert to my selfishness.
Yesterday we made an excursion to Vallambrosa, which lies in a cleft
between two lofty mountains, about thirteen miles from this. It was a
strange transition from the warm air and sunny streets of Florence, with
all their objects of artistic wonder on every side, to find one's self
suddenly traversing a wild mountain gorge in a rude bullock-cart,
guided by a peasant of semi-savage aspect, his sheepskin mantle and long
ox-goad giving a picturesque air to his tall and sinewy figure. The snow
lay heavily in all the crevices around, and it was a perfectly Alpine
scene in its desolation; nor, I must say, did it recall a single one
of the ideas with which our great poet has associated it. The thickly
strewn leaves have no existence here, since the trees are not deciduous,
and consist entirely of pines.
A straight avenue in the forest leads to the convent, which is of
immense size, forming a great quadrangle. At a little distance off,
sheltered by a thick grove of tall pines, stands a small building
appropriated to the accommodation of strangers, who are the guests
of the monks for any period short of three days, and by a special
permission for even a longer time.
We passed the day and the night there, and I would willingly have
lingered still longer. From the mountain peak above the convent the two
seas at either side of the peninsula are visible, and the Gulf of Genoa
and the Adriatic are stretched out at your feet, with the vast plain of
Central Italy, dotted over with cities, every name of which is a spell
to memory! Thence back to Florence, and all that gay world that seemed
so small to the eye the day before! And now, dearest Miss Cox, let me
conclude, ere my own littleness become more apparent; for here I am,
tossing over laces and embroidery, gazing with rapture at brooches
and bracelets, and actually fancying how captivating I shall be when
apparelled in all this finery. It would be mere deceitfulness in me were
I to tell you that I am not charmed with the splendor that surrounds me.
Let me only hope that it may not corrupt that heart which at no time was
more entirely your own than while I write myself yours affectionately,
Caroline Dodd.
LETTER XXXII. KENNY JAMES DODD TO THOMAS PURCELL, ESQ., OF THE GRANGE,
BRUFF.
Florence.
Well, my dear Tom, my task is at last completed,--my _magnum opus_
accomplished. I have carried all my measures, if not with triumphant
majorities, at least with a "good working party," as the slang has it,
and I stand proudly pre-eminent the head of the Dodd Administration. I
have no patience for details. I like better to tell you the results in
some striking paragraph, to be headed "Latest Intelligence," and to run
thus: "Our last advices inform us that, notwithstanding the intrigues
in the Cabinet, K. I. maintains his ascendency. We have no official
intelligence of the fact, but all the authorities concur in believing
that the Dodds are about to leave the Continent and return to Ireland."
Ay, Tom, that is the grand and comprehensive measure of family reform I
have so long labored over, and at length have the proud gratification to
see Law!
I find, on looking back, that I left off on my being sent for by Belton.
I 'll try and take up one of the threads of my tangled narrative at
that point. I found him at his hotel in conversation with a very smartly
dressed, well-whiskered, kid-gloved little man, whom he presented as
"Mr. Curl Davis, of Lincoln's Inn." Mr. D. was giving a rather pleasant
account of the casualties of his first trip to Italy when I entered,
but immediately stopped, and seemed to think that the hour of business
should usurp the time of mere amusement.
Belton soon informed me why, by telling me that Mr. C. D. was a London
collector who transacted the foreign affairs for various discounting
houses at home, and who held a roving commission to worry, harass, and
torment all such and sundry as might have drawn, signed, or endorsed
bills, either for their own accommodation or that of their friends.
Now, I had not the most remote notion how I should come to figure in
this category. I knew well that you had "taken care of"--that's the
word--all my little missives in that fashion. So persuaded was I of my
sincerity that I offered him at once a small wager that he had mistaken
his man, and that it was, in fact, some other Dodd, bent on bringing our
honorable name to shame and disgrace.
"It must, under these circumstances, then," said he, "be a very gross
case of forgery, for the name is yours; nor can I discover any other
with the same Christian names." So saying, he produced a pocket-book,
like a family Bible, and drew from out a small partition of it a bill
for five hundred pounds, at nine months, drawn and endorsed by me in
favor of the Hon. Augustus Gore Hampton!
This precious document had now about fifty-two hours some odd minutes
to run. In other words, it was a crocodile's egg with the shell already
bursting, and the reptile's head prepared to spring out.
"The writing, if not yours, is an admirable imitation," said Davis,
surveying it through his double eye-glass.
"Is it yours?" asked Belton.
"Yes," said I, with a great effort to behave like an ancient Roman.
"Ah, then, it is all correct," said Davis, smirking. "I am charmed to
find that the case presents no difficulty whatsoever."
"I 'm not quite so certain of that, sir," said I; "I take a very
different view of the transaction."
"Don't be alarmed, Mr. Dodd," said he, coaxingly, "we are not Shylocks.
We will meet your convenience in any way; in fact, it is with that sole
object I have come out from England. 'Don't negotiate it,' said Mr. Gore
Hampton to me,' if you can possibly help it; see Mr. D. himself, ask
what arrangement will best suit him, take half the amount in cash,
and renew the bill at three months, rather than push him to an
inconvenience.' I assure you these were his own words, for there is n't
a more generous fellow breathing than Gore." Mr. Davis uttered this with
a kind of hearty expansiveness, as though to say, "The man 's my friend,
and let me see who 'll gainsay me."
"Am I at liberty to inquire into the circumstances of this transaction?"
said Belton, who had been for some minutes attentively examining the
bill, and the several names upon it, and comparing the writing with some
other that he held in his hand.
I half scrupled to say "Yes" to this request, Tom. If there be anything
particularly painful in shame above all others, it is for an old fellow
to come to confession of his follies to a young one. It reverses their
relative stations to each other so fatally that they never can stand
rightly again. He saw this, or he seemed to see it, in a second, by my
hesitation, for, quickly turning to Mr. Davis, he said, "Our
meeting here is a most opportune one, as you will perceive by this
paper,"--giving him a letter as he spoke. Although I paid little
attention to these words, I was soon struck by the change that had come
over Mr. Davis. The fresh and rosy cheek was now blanched, the easy
smile had departed, and a look of terror and dismay was exhibited in its
place.
"Now, sir," said Belton, folding up the document, "you see I have been
very frank with you. The charges contained in that letter I am in a
position to prove. The Earl of Darewood has placed all the papers in my
hands, and given me full permission as to how I shall employ them. Mr.
Dodd," said he, addressing me, "if I am not at liberty to ask you
the history of that bill, there is at least nothing to prevent _my_
informing _you_ that all the names upon it are those of men banded
together for purposes of fraud."
"Take care what you say, sir," said Davis, affecting to write down his
words, but in his confusion unable to form a letter.
"I shall accept your caution as it deserves," said Belton, "and say
that they are a party of professional swindlers,--men who cheat at play,
intimidate for money, and even commit forgery for it."
Davis moved towards the door, but Belton anticipated him, and he sat
down again without a word.
[Illustration: 314]
"Now, Mr. Davis," said he, calmly, "it is left entirely to my discretion
in what way I am to proceed with respect to one of the parties to
these frauds." As he got thus far, the waiter entered, and presented a
visiting-card, on which Belton said, "Yes, show him upstairs;" and the
next minute Lord George Tiverton made his appearance. He was already in
the middle of the room ere he perceived me, and for the first time in my
life I saw signs of embarrassment and shame on his impassive features.
"They told me you were alone, Mr. Belton," said he, angrily, and as if
about to retire.
"For all the purposes you have come upon, my Lord, it is the same as
though I were."
"Is it blown, then?" asked his Lordship of Davis; and the other replied
with an almost imperceptible nod. Muttering what sounded like a curse,
Tiverton threw himself into a chair, drawing his hat, which he still
wore, more deeply over his eyes.
I assure you, Tom, that so overwhelmed was I by this distressing
scene,--for, say what you will, there is nothing so distressing as
to see the man with whom you have lived in intimacy, if not
actual friendship, suddenly displayed in all the glaring colors of
scoundrelism. You feel yourself so humiliated before such a spectacle,
that the sense of shame becomes like an atmosphere around you; I
actually heard nothing,--I saw nothing. A scene of angry discussion
ensued between Belton and the lawyer--Tiverton never uttered a word--of
which I caught not one syllable. I could only mark, at last, that
Belton had gained the upper hand, and in the other's subdued manner and
submissive tone defeat was plainly written.
"Will Mr. Dodd deny his liability?" cried out Davis; and though, I
suppose, he must have said the words many times over, I could not bring
myself to suppose they were addressed to me.
"I shall not ask him that question." said Belton, "but _you_ may."
"Hang it, Curl! you know it was a 'plant,'" said Tiverton, who was now
smoking a cigar as coolly as possible. "What's the use of pushing them
further? We 've lost the game, man!"
"Just so, my Lord," said Belton; "and notwithstanding all his pretended
boldness, nobody is more aware of that fact than Mr. Curl Davis, and the
sooner he adopts your Lordship's frankness the quicker will this affair
be settled."
Belton and the lawyer conversed eagerly together in half-whispers. I
could only overhear a stray word or two; but they were enough to show
me that Davis was pressing for some kind of a compromise, to which the
other would not accede, and the terms of which came down successively
from five hundred pounds to three, two, one, and at last fifty.
"No, nor five, sir,--not five shillings in such a cause!" said Belton,
determinedly. "I should feel it an indelible disgrace upon me forever to
concede one farthing to a scheme so base and contemptible. Take my word
for it, to escape exposure in such a case is no slight immunity."
Davis still demurred, but it was rather with the disciplined resistance
of a well-trained rascal than with the ardor of a strong conviction.
The altercation--for it was such--interested me wonderfully little, my
attention being entirely bestowed on Tiverton, who had now lighted his
third cigar, which he was smoking away vigorously, never once bestowing
a look towards me, nor in any way seeming to recognize my presence. A
sudden pause in the discussion attracted me, and I saw that Mr. Davis
was handing over several papers, which, to my practical eye, resembled
bills, to Belton, who carefully perused each of them in turn before
enclosing them in his pocket-book.
"Now, my Lord, I am at your service," said Belton; "but I presume our
interview may as well be without witnesses."
"I should like to have Davis here," replied Tiverton, languidly; "seeing
how you have bullied _him_ only satisfies me how little chance _I_ shall
have with you."
Not waiting to hear an answer to this speech, I arose and took my hat,
and pressing Belton's hand cordially as I asked him to dinner for that
day, I hurried out of the room. Not, however, without his having time to
whisper to me,--
"That affair is all arranged,--have no further uneasiness on the
subject."
I was in the street in the midst of the moving, bustling population,
with all the life, din, and turmoil of a great city around me, and yet
I stood confounded and overwhelmed by what I had just witnessed. "And
this," said I, at last, "is the way the business of the world goes
on,--robbery, cheating, intimidation, and overreaching are the
politenesses men reciprocate with each other!" Ah, Tom, with what
scanty justice we regard our poor hard-working, half-starved, and ragged
people, when men of rank, station, and refinement are such culprits as
this! Nor could I help confessing that if I had passed my life at home,
in my own country, such an instance as I had just seen had, in
all likelihood, never occurred to me. The truth is that there is a
simplicity in the life of poor countries that almost excludes such a
craft as that of a swindler. Society must be a complex and intricate
machinery where _they_ are to thrive. There must be all the thousand
requirements that are begotten of a pampered and luxurious civilization,
and all the faults and frailties that grow out of these. Your well-bred
scoundrel trades upon the follies, the weaknesses, the foibles, rather
than the vices of the world, and his richest harvest lies amongst those
who have ambitions above their station, and pretensions unsuited to
their property,--in one word, to the "Dodds of this world, whether they
issue from Tipperary or Yorkshire, whether their tongue betray the Celt
or the Saxon!"
I grew very moral on this theme as I walked along, and actually found
myself at my own door before I knew where I was. I discovered that
Morris and his mother had been visiting Mrs. D. in my absence, and that
the interview had passed off satisfactorily Cary's bright and cheery
looks sufficiently assured me. Perhaps she was "not i' the vein," or
perhaps she was awed by the presence of real wealth and fortune, but
I was glad to find that Mrs. D. scarcely more than alluded to the
splendors of Dodsborough; nor did she bring in the M'Carthys more than
four times during their stay. This is encouraging, Tom; and who knows
but in time we may be able to "lay this family," and live without the
terrors of their resurrection!
The Morrises are to dine with us, and I only trust that we shall not
give them a "taste of our quality" in high living, for I have just
caught sight of a fellow with a white cap going into Mrs. D.'s
dressing-room, and the preparations are evidently considerable. Here 's
Mary Anne saying she has something of consequence to impart to me, and
so, for the present, farewell.
The murder is out, Tom, and all the mystery of Morris's missing letter
made clear. Mrs. D. received it during my illness at Genoa, and finding
it to be a proposal of marriage to Cary, took it upon her to write an
indignant refusal.
Mary Anne has just confessed the whole to me in strict secrecy, frankly
owning that she herself was the great culprit on the occasion, and that
the terms of the reply were actually dictated by her. She said that her
present avowal was made less in reparation for her misconduct--which she
owned to be inexcusable--than as an obligation she felt under to requite
the admirable behavior of Morris, who by this time must have surmised
what had occurred, and whose gentlemanlike feeling recoiled from
vindicating himself at the cost of family disunion and exposure.
I tell you frankly, Tom, that Mary Anne's own candor, the honest,
straightforward way in which she told me the whole incident, amply
repays me for all the annoyance it occasioned. Her conduct now assures
me that, notwithstanding all the corrupting influences of our life
abroad, the girl's generous nature has still survived, and may yet, with
good care, be trained up to high deservings. Of course she enjoined
me to secrecy; but even had she not done so, I 'd have respected her
confidence. I am scarcely less pleased with Morris, whose delicacy is no
bad guarantee for the future; so that for once, at least, my dear Tom,
you find me in good humor with all the world, nor is it my own fault
if I be not oftener so! You may smile, Tom, at my self-flattery; but
I repeat it. All my philosophy of life has been to submit with a good
grace, and make the best of everything,--to think as well of everybody
as they would permit me to do; and when, as will happen, events went
cross-grain, and all fell out "wrong," I was quite ready to "forget my
own griefs, and be happy with _you_." And now to dinner, Tom, where I
mean to drink your health!
It is all settled; though I have no doubt, after so many "false starts,"
you 'll still expect to hear a contradiction to this in my next
letter; but you may believe me this time, Tom. Cary is to be married on
Saturday; and that you may have stronger confidence in my words, I beg
to assure you that I have not bestowed on her, as her marriage portion,
either imaginary estates or mock domains. She is neither to be thought
an Irish princess _en retraite_, nor to be the proud possessor of the
"M'Carthy diamonds." In a word, Tom, we have contrived, by some good
luck, to conduct the whole of this negotiation without involving
ourselves in a labyrinth of lies, and the consequence has been a very
wide-spread happiness and contentment.
Morris improves every hour on nearer acquaintance; and even Mrs. D.
acknowledges that when "his shyness rubs off, he 'll be downright
agreeable and amusing." Now, that same shyness is very little more
than the constitutional coldness of _his_ country, more palpable when
contrasted with the over-warmth of _ours_. It _never does_ rub off, Tom,
which, unfortunately, our cordiality occasionally does; and hence the
praise bestowed on the constancy of one country, and the censure on the
changeability of the other. But this is no time for such dissertations,
nor is my head in a condition to follow them out.
The house is beset with milliners, jewellers, and other seductionists
of the same type; and Mrs. D.'s voice is loud in the drawing-room on
the merits of Brussels lace and the becomingness of rubies. Even Cary
appears to have yielded somewhat to the temptation of these vanities,
and gives a passing glance at herself in the glass without any very
marked disapproval. James is in ecstasies with Morris, who has confided
all his horse arrangements to his especial care; and he sits in solemn
conclave every morning with half a dozen stunted, knock-kneed bipeds, in
earnest discussion of thorough-breds, weight-carriers, and fencers, and
talks "Bell's Life" half the day afterwards.
But, above all, Mary Anne has pleased me throughout the whole
transaction. Not a shadow of jealousy, not the faintest coloring of any
unworthy rivalry has interfered with her sisterly affection, and her
whole heart seems devoted to Cary's happiness. Handsome as she always
was, the impulse of a high motive has elevated the character of her
beauty, and rendered her perfectly lovely. So Belton would seem to think
also, if I were only to pronounce from the mere expression of his face
as he looks at her.
I must close this at once; there's no use in my trying to journalize any
longer, for events follow too fast for recording; besides, Tom, in the
midst of all my happiness there comes a dash of sadness across me that
I am so soon to part with one so dear to me! The first branch that drops
from the tree tells the story of the decay at the trunk; and so it is as
the chairs around your health become tenantless, you are led to think
of the dark winter of old age, the long night before the longer journey!
This is all selfishness, mayhap, and so no more of it. On Saturday the
wedding, Tom; the Morrises start for Rome, and the Dodds for Ireland.
Ay, my old friend, once more we shall meet, and if I know myself, not to
part again till our passports are made out for a better place. And now,
my dear friend, for the last time on foreign ground,