_Frank Henley to Oliver Trenchard_
_Paris, Hotel d'Espagne, Rue Guenegaude,_
_Fauxbourg St. Germain_
How severe, Oliver, are the lessons of truth! But to learn them from
her lips, and to be excited to the practice of them by her example, are
blessings which to enjoy and not to profit by would shew a degenerate
heart.
I have just risen from a conversation which has made a deep impression
on my mind. It was during breakfast. I know not whether reflecting on
it will appease, or increase, the sensations which the behaviour of
this brother of Louisa hourly exacerbates. But I will calm that
irritability which would dwell on him, and nothing else, that I may
repeat what has just happened.
The interesting part of what passed began by Mr. Clifton's affirming,
with Pope, that men had and would have, to the end of time, each a
ruling passion. This I denied, if by ruling passion were meant the
indulgence of any irregular appetite, or the fostering of any erroneous
system. I was asked, with a sneer, for my recipe to subdue the
passions; if it were not too long to be remembered. I replied it was
equally brief and efficacious. It was the force of reason; or, if the
word should please better, of truth.
And in what year of the world was the discovery of truth to be made?
In that very year when, instead of being persecuted for speaking their
thoughts, the free discussion of every opinion, true or false, should
not only be permitted, but receive encouragement and applause.
As usual, the appeal was made to Anna: and, as usual, her decision was
in my favour. Nothing, said she, is more fatal, to the progress of
virtue, than the supposition that error is invincible. Had I persuaded
myself I never could have learned French, Italian, or music, why learn
them I never could. For how can that be finished which is never begun?
But, though all the world were to laugh at me, I should laugh at all
the world, were it to tell me it is more difficult to prevent the
beginning, growth, and excess of any passion, than it is to learn to
play excellently on the piano forte.
Is that really your opinion, madam? said Clifton.
It is.
Do you include all the passions?
All.
What! The passion of love?
Yes. Love is as certainly to be conquered as any of them; and there is
no mistake which has done more mischief than that of supposing it
irresistible. Young people, and we poor girls in particular, having
once been thoroughly persuaded of the truth of such an axiom, think it
in vain to struggle, where there are no hopes of victory. We are
conquered not because we are weak, but because we are cowards. We seem
to be convinced that we have fallen in love by enchantment, and are
under the absolute dominion of a necromancer. It is truly the dwarf
leading the giant captive. Is it not--[Oliver! She fixed her eyes upon
me, as she spoke!]--Is it not, Frank?
I was confounded. I paused for a moment. A deep and heavy sigh
involuntarily burst from me. I endeavoured to be firm, but I stammered
out--Madam--it is.
I am convinced he is jealous of me. Nay he fears me; though he scorns
me too much to think so meanly of himself. Yet he fears me. And what is
worse, Oliver, I fear him! I blush for my own debility. But let me not
endeavour to conceal my weakness. No: it must be encountered, and
cured. His quick and audacious eye was searching me, while I struggled
to think, and rid myself of confusion; and he discovered more than gave
him pleasure.--She continued.
I know of no prejudice more pernicious to the moral conduct of youth
than that of this unconquerable passion of love. Any and all of our
passions are unconquerable, whenever we shall be weak enough to think
them so. Does not the gamester plead the unconquerableness of his
passion? The drunkard, the man of anger, the revengeful, the envious,
the covetous, the jealous, have they not all the same plea? With the
selfish and the feeble passion succeeds to passion as different habits
give birth to each, and the last passion proves more unconquerable than
its predecessor. How frequently do we see people in the very fever of
this unconquerable passion of love, which disappears for the rest of
their lives, after a few weeks possession of the object whom they had
so passionately loved! How often do they as passionately hate; while
the violence of their hatred and of their love is perhaps equally
guilty!
Sir Arthur I observed was happy to join in this new doctrine; which
however is true, Oliver. I am not certain that he too had not his
apprehensions, concerning me: at least his approbation of the principle
was ardent.
This was not all. After a short silence, she added, and again fixed her
eyes on me--Next to the task of subduing our own passions, I know none
more noble than that of aiding to subdue the passions of others. To
restore a languishing body is held to be a precious art; but to give
health to the mind, to restore declining genius to its true rank, is an
art infinitely more inestimable.
She rose, and I withdrew; her words vibrating in my ear, where they
vibrate still. Perceivest thou not their import?--Oliver, she has
formed a project fatal to my hopes! Nay, I could almost fear, fatal to
herself! Yet what, who can harm her? Does the savage, the monster
exist, that could look upon her and do her injury? No! She is safe! She
is immaculate! Beaming in beauty, supreme in virtue, the resplendent
aegis of truth shields her from attaint!
Yes, Oliver, her answers were to him; but the intent, the soul of them
was directed to me. It was a warning spirit, that cried, beware of
indulging an unjustifiable passion! Awake, at the call of virtue, and
obey! Behold here a sickly mind, and aid me in its recovery!--To me her
language was pointed, clear, and incapable of other interpretation.
But is there not peril in her plan? Recover a mind so perverted?
Strong, I own, nay uncommon in its powers; for such the mind of Clifton
is: but its strength is its disease.
And is it so certain that for me to love her is error, is weakness, is
vice? No. Or, if it be, I have not yet discovered why. Oliver, she
shall hear me! Let her shew me my mistake, if mistaken I be, and I will
desist: but justice demands it, and she shall hear me.
We are going to remove, at his repeated instances, to the hotel where
he resides. He leads Sir Arthur as he pleases; but it grieved me to see
her yield so readily. Now that I have discovered her intentions, I no
longer wonder. Omnipotent as the power of truth and virtue is, I yet
cannot approve the design. The enterprises of virtue itself may have
their romance--I know not--This to me at least is fatal--Could I--? I
must conclude!--Lose her?--For ever!--For ever!--I must conclude--