The rector of Smatterton now betook himself to the parsonage-house at
Neverden, in order that he might administer to his brother clergyman a
word or two of admonition, or, more reverentially speaking, suggestion.
This was an exploit by no means disagreeable to Mr Pringle, for it
gave him an opportunity to thrust himself more closely in Mr Darnley’s
way. The two rectors had not been on such very intimate terms as two
clerical neighbours ought to be. And Mr Pringle was very desirous of
increasing the intimacy, and of subduing his neighbour’s haughtiness
and coolness. It has been already acknowledged and stated that Mr
Darnley, with all his good qualities, his conscientious discharge of
his duties, and his strict attention to the morals of his parishioners,
was still a proud man. He laid mighty stress on rank, and gave great
honor to the great because they were great, and he looked down upon Mr
Pringle as a man of no family. He was very civil to Mr Pringle, but
he had not yet admitted the young rector to an equality of intimacy.
Indeed Mr Darnley had frequently deplored that such great facility
of access was given to the church by means of exhibitions at the
Universities, so that the sons of very inferior tradesmen might raise
themselves, by adopting the clerical profession, into the rank of
gentlemen. Yet this same Mr Darnley made it not an unfrequent subject
of boasting, when speaking of the unspeakable excellences of the
British constitution, that the highest offices in church and state
were open to all classes of British subjects. But there is a wide
difference between declamation and real feeling. It would be very
amusing to have the use of Ithuriel’s spear, and to carry it into some
public assemblies, and to touch with it some very eloquent speakers,
and perhaps the same spear would afford some little entertainment in a
great library; it would be very pretty to see what havoc it would make
among dedications and protestations, and all that sort of thing. It is
very certain however, by way of bringing back our digression to the
point from which it started, that Mr Darnley, under the influence of
that revealer of secrets, would be found vituperating that very feature
in the British constitution which he so very often professed to admire.
Mr Pringle was received by Mr Darnley with great politeness. Mr Darnley
was polite to everybody. Those people do not know how to be proud
who manifest their pride by rudeness and ill-humour; for repulsive
as vulgar haughtiness may be, it can never keep encroachment so
effectually at a distance as cold politeness and graceful formality.
Mr Pringle was desirous of imitating Mr Darnley’s politeness, but he
felt that the imitation looked like imitation; and he was therefore
more desirous of inducing the rector of Neverden to dismiss his
repulsive reserve, and to admit his brother clergyman to an equality of
intimacy. But this was not so easily effected as Mr Pringle wished. For
Mr Darnley, at this very interview of which we are now speaking, shewed
symptoms that he regarded Mr Pringle’s call as a matter of business
rather than of compliment. There is a mode of looking upon a caller
which seems to ask what is his business, and yet in that look there is
nothing unpolite or positively rude. So did the rector of Neverden look
upon the rector of Smatterton, who felt himself much mortified that,
after all the pains that he had taken to become an indolent gentleman,
he could not thoroughly enjoy the pleasures either of indolence or
gentility.
This look and manner on the part of Mr Darnley considerably repressed
the fluency with which Mr Pringle would otherwise have talked on
common-place matters, and thereby compelled him, sooner than he
had designed, to intimate that he had some matter of importance to
communicate. The two clergymen thereupon adjourned to the library.
Then Mr Pringle looked important; but with all his efforts he could not
look quite so magnificent as Mr Darnley. And taking out of his pocket
a letter, the reverend rector of Smatterton addressed himself solemnly
and gravely to the reverend rector of Neverden.
“I have called upon you, Mr Darnley, on a very unpleasant business, and
indeed I hardly know how I can with any propriety ask your assistance
in the affair, for it concerns a parishioner of mine; but it is one
with whom you have been longer acquainted than I have.”
Here Mr Pringle paused, hoping and expecting that Mr Darnley would
anticipate by conjecture; but the rector of Neverden merely bowed and
said; “And what is the affair to which you allude?”
“I believe, sir,” resumed Mr Pringle, “you are acquainted with Mr
Primrose, who is now residing at the rectory at Smatterton?”
“I do know that there is such a person,” replied Mr Darnley, “but I can
hardly be said to have the honor of an acquaintance with Mr Primrose.
It does not suit my habits to extend my acquaintance, or to form new
intimacies.”
This last remark looked something like a hint to Mr Pringle that
he should not presume to anticipate an intimacy with his brother
clergyman. But still it was uttered with no uncourteous tone, and Mr
Pringle was not compelled to apply and take it to himself. He went
on and said; “But you formerly, I believe, were acquainted with that
gentleman’s daughter?”
“Formerly, I was,” said Mr Darnley, without any change of tone, or any
visible symptom of resentment or relenting.
And then Mr Pringle proceeded: “But, surely, sir, though you may have
now no acquaintance with Mr Primrose and his daughter, you would not
refuse to do anything in your power to save a respectable young lady
from destruction?”
“I do not know, Mr Pringle,” said the rector of Neverden, “to what you
may be now alluding; but I am sorry to say that the young lady of whom
you are speaking has already refused my advice, and I am not in the
habit of forcing my admonitions on those who despise them. You may not
be acquainted with all the facts of the case to which I refer, but the
time was when I would have been a real friend and benefactor to Miss
Primrose; but the fascinations and gaieties of the metropolis, and the
empty patronage of high rank, led her to despise my kind offers. Still
however if, as you say, I can save the young lady from destruction, I
shall most willingly give my assistance, for I bear no resentment; only
let me add, that I will have no farther acquaintance with Mr Primrose
or his daughter. I wish them well and would do them any service in my
power, but I cannot have any acquaintance with them.”
That was not a very good kind of well-wishing; but such kind of feeling
is very prevalent, and passes with multitudes as mightily generous.
At least we suppose that it so passes, otherwise professions of that
nature would not be so frequently made nor so pompously uttered. To our
thought it does not seem exactly to come up to the spirit of Christian
forgiveness. It is however mightily convenient for those who wish to
enjoy the pleasures of resentment, and the reputation of generosity,
that they can thus easily persuade themselves that they possess a
virtue which they have not, and that they have subdued a resentment
which they spitefully cherish.
Mr Pringle, who was desirous of rendering himself agreeable to Mr
Darnley, assented very readily to what that gentleman said, and
acknowledged, not exactly in so many words, but in language to that
purpose, that it was indeed a most unpardonable sin to refuse to listen
to the good advice of so good an adviser as Mr Darnley.
The rector of Neverden, to whom homage was agreeable both from
constitution and habit, was by this concession of Mr Pringle more
softened towards his visitor than he had ever been before. For Mr
Darnley had regarded his neighbour of Smatterton, with something of a
jealous look, as an unwarrantable encroacher on the clerical dignity
and family consequence of the rector of Neverden, who considered
himself as a man of family. But now when Mr Pringle paid homage to Mr
Darnley’s wisdom and flattered his vanity, the reverend man of family
was softened and subdued, and he exercised a more gracious spirit of
condescension towards his reverend neighbour of Smatterton. And, in
order to exhibit this condescension, Mr Darnley entered most copiously
and fully into a narrative of all the particulars of the history of
Miss Primrose. To this narrative Mr Pringle listened very attentively,
and at the close of it made exactly such comments as Mr Darnley would
be most pleased to hear.
“And after this,” added the rector of Neverden, “with what propriety
can I hold any intercourse with the family of Mr Primrose?”
“Most undoubtedly, sir,” replied Mr Pringle, “you have been treated
with very great disrespect and inattention, and I am not at all
surprised at your reluctance to hold any intercourse with Mr Primrose.
But as I had received from my relative in London a letter making a
communication of this nature, and urging me as a clergyman to use all
means in my power to prevent such a disgraceful step on the part of one
of my parishioners, and as being a very young man, and being peculiarly
situated with respect to Lord Smatterton’s family, I wished if possible
that Mr Primrose should be warned of the danger to which his daughter
is exposed through some other channel; and I thought no one so proper
as yourself for that task, as any expostulation or information would
come with more weight from you than from any one else.”
“Very true, Mr Pringle, very true,” replied the rector of Neverden,
“I must confess you are right; and the time has been when Mr Primrose
might, or Miss Primrose might, have listened to my advice, but I fear
that time is gone. But what would you have me to do, Mr Pringle?”
“Merely, sir,” replied Mr Pringle, “to inform Mr Primrose by any means
you may be pleased to use, that such a negociation is carrying on
between Lord Spoonbill and his daughter, and that the lady is deceived
by the promise of a private marriage, when no marriage at all is
intended.”
“Why, if the young woman is deceived, she ought to be undeceived.”
This last remark, being uttered with a peculiarly magnificent and
oracular tone, received from that tone a degree of importance with
which letters cannot easily invest it. And seeing that it was an
unanswerable truth, Mr Pringle did not reply to it; and Mr Darnley
thereupon having hopes that, by the evidence which the rector of
Smatterton possessed, Mr Robert Darnley might see the folly of his
conduct, went on to say to Mr Pringle; “Now, sir, if it is not asking
too much, may I request of you the favor that you will let my son see,
or at least hear the letter which you hold in your hand. I think I can
pledge my word that Lord Spoonbill shall know nothing of the matter
from him.”
To be able to confer a favor on Mr Darnley was a temptation too strong
for Mr Pringle to resist; but he took care to let it be understood that
the communication was indeed a particular favour. This scrupulousness
was not repulsive to Mr Darnley’s taste, for he was much in the habit
of making everything a matter of pomp and ceremony.
After much farcical parade therefore, Mr Robert Darnley was sent for
into the study. The scene formed by his entrance into the apartment
was truly picturesque; but, in the absence of graphic and dramatic
power, we must leave it to the reader’s imagination to form the picture
for itself.
Let the reader then imagine Mr Darnley the elder, a full-sized,
good-looking, pompous, elderly gentleman, in clerical attire the most
marked and definite, powdered with great profusion, and yet with
exquisite accuracy, looking as venerable as a whole bench of bishops,
as wise as the twelve judges, and as awful as Homer’s Jupiter Olympus
when he frowned;--let the reader imagine on the other hand a smart,
little, dapper, pale-faced shred of humanity, slender as a twig,
meaningless as a gate-post, perked out with all the dandyism that the
clerical garb will allow, screwing its unintellectual little features
with mighty and painful effort into what it imagines to be a look of
importance;--to these two personages there enters a third,
‘Of goodlie shape, erect and tall,’
with brow unclouded, with careless but not ungraceful gait, and
directing a smile of interrogation to the two important ones.
“Robert,” said the elder one with great solemnity, “this gentleman has
in his possession a letter, which he will have the goodness to shew
you, and which I hope and trust will set your mind at rest on a subject
which has of late very much disturbed us all.”
The smile on the young man’s countenance waxed fainter, and he
anticipated and dreaded another fit of prosing. He turned towards Mr
Pringle, who very politely handing the letter to him, said, “I received
this letter, sir, from a relative in town, and I thought it my duty to
communicate it to Mr Darnley. But as I am peculiarly situated, I do
not wish to have it imagined by Lord Spoonbill that the information
contained in this letter had transpired by my means.”
“You may make yourself perfectly easy on that subject,” replied Robert
Darnley. So saying, the young gentleman took the letter, and with a
smile of incredulity and a look of anticipation--for he guessed very
nearly the subject of it--he perused it with a forced attention, and
returning it to Mr Pringle, directed his conversation to his father.
“I presume, sir, you have read this letter yourself?”
“I have,” replied Mr Darnley; “and have you any doubts on your mind
now? Does not this corroborate all that I have said to you?”
“It certainly would corroborate what you have said,” replied the young
gentleman, “if it were true, but I do not believe a word of it.”
Quickly turning round to Mr Pringle, the son of the rector of Neverden
said by way of apology, “I have not the most distant idea, sir, of
questioning the veracity of your relative, but I am perfectly satisfied
that there is a mistake somewhere; but, how the mistake has originated,
I cannot divine.”
“My relative,” said Mr Pringle in reply, “says in this letter that he
heard it from Lord Spoonbill himself.”
“I have no doubt of that, sir,” answered Robert Darnley; “but I can
tell you that I would not believe it if I heard it from Lord Spoonbill
himself.”
The young rector of Neverden was puzzled, not more at the assertions
than at the very calm and confident manner in which they were uttered.
And he was beginning to think whether he ought not to be angry that
any one should presume to suspect that Zephaniah Pringle could by any
chance whatever be deceived.
While Mr Pringle was hesitating whether he should be offended or not,
Mr Darnley started up in one of his magnificent airs, saying to his
son, “Boy, you are infatuated.”
This angry and loud speech made poor Mr Pringle feel rather awkward,
and he wished himself away. It is not by any means a proof of good
taste to suffer domestic differences to be exhibited before strangers.
We should have thought that Mr Darnley had known better; but with all
his wisdom he had not discretion enough to govern himself in that
respect. The young gentleman his son did not wish to have the name of
Miss Primrose and her history angrily bandied about in the presence of
Mr Pringle, therefore, when the father made the remark above noticed,
the young man did not make any reply to it.
Mr Darnley the elder was by his son’s silence and by his expressive
looks recalled to reflection. Making then an apology for having
detained Mr Pringle so long, the rector of Neverden concluded by
saying, that he would take some steps to cause Mr Primrose to be
informed of the danger to which his daughter was exposed. On this, Mr
Pringle took the hint and departed, not best pleased with his visit;
for Mr Darnley had behaved with great formality, and had moreover
taken the liberty to give his visitor a hint about departing, thereby
displaying too strong a sense of superiority. All the consolation that
Mr Pringle had under these sorrows was, that he could think within
himself that he was in every respect Mr Darnley’s equal.