But Mrs Dorothea always insisted that he was a classical scholar, and
a fine gentleman! The niece declared he was a Pagan, and ought to have
lived two centuries ago, as he spoke a language she did not understand!
'He may be learned (said she) but he has no passion!'
'No passion (replied Mrs Dorothea) how comes he then to write such fine
letters?'
'The fine letters (replied Miss Bingley) show memory and fancy, but no
sensations of _the heart_! lovers who make use of extravagant tropes
are reduced to that expedient, to supply the defect of passion by the
deceitful counterfeit of hyperbolical language. The passions of _the
heart_ depend not on the deductions of _the understanding_--but it
was necessary he should have a _Corinna_, because Ovid had _one_; and
he makes me inconstant, although I never gave him any encouragement,
because Gallus's favourite run away with a soldier. He seems to be
intimately acquainted with the history of Cupid and Venus, but knows
nothing _of love_: and would be sooner applauded for writing a good
elegy, than have his mistress smile on him.'
Mrs Dorothea told her, that she was exceedingly perverse, but she would
give her leave _to talk_, as she had the power _to do_.
Miss Bingley said, 'Since Mr Bennet was so much in her good graces, she
made no doubt but he would pay her his homage, on the smallest hint,
would transfer his affections--as the foundation of his passion was _the
same_ for _both_, built on that of her _mansion_, would _grow_ with her
_trees_ and _increase_ with her _estate_----Increase, you know, my dear
aunt, is the end of marriage; and your fortune is better than Medea's
charm, for that only made an old man young again; but your riches will
make a young man enamoured of an old woman! He will swear you are not
only wiser than Minerva, but fairer than the Paphian queen! Though you
are old, your trees are green; and though you have lost the roses in
your cheeks, there are great plenty of them on your pleasure-grounds.'
Mrs Dorothea with great good-humour laughed at her niece's sallies,
saying, 'You remember what Martial says;
'Fain would kind Paula wed me if she could:
I won't, she's old; if older yet, I would.'
'But seriously, niece (said she) you will never make a choice that I
shall so much approve of--he has so much wit.'
Miss Bingley replied, that all the credit he has for wit is owing to
the gratification he gives to others ill-nature: and said she would be
very happy to accommodate herself to her aunt's wishes; but was not upon
such a religious strain, and so desirous of canonization hereafter (if
sufferings can make a saint) as to marry a man of his character, that
she might have her mortifications and punishments in this life: but
at the same time would faithfully promise never to marry any man she
disapproved of.
There were great rejoicings for some weeks at Munster-house:--at which
time Lord and Lady Darnley set out for their estate in Dorsetshire,
and Lady Eliza accompanied Lord Munster to London. As a correspondence
commenced at this period between the parties I have already introduced
to the reader, the sequel of this history will appear from their
letters. I shall only observe, that Lord Munster's figure was remarkably
agreeable, his address engaging; he first attracted, and then commanded
the admiration of all who knew him. On the slightest acquaintance with
him, a most exact regard to all the proprieties and decencies of life
were observable in his conduct; and such an evident desire to oblige,
and to make all about him easy, as became a good mind and a liberal
education. An agreeable chearfulness made his conversation as lively
and agreeable as it was useful and instructing. But the discerning eye
of friendship could discover that he was not happy, and that delicacy
to the feelings of his friends restrained him from giving way to an
uneasiness, which it was too apparent he laboured under. His general
behaviour bore the genuine stamp of true politeness, the result of an
overflowing humanity and benevolence of heart. Such qualities very
justly and forcibly recommend, lying obvious to almost every observer;
but to the more discerning, a nearer view of him quickly discovered
endowments far above the common standard. He had, in truth, endowments
of mind to have honored any station.
As Lady Darnley's breast glowed with that exalted fervent charity
which embraces the wide extended interests of men, of communities,
of the species itself; it is easy to conceive how her heart exulted
at finding her nephew so deserving of all she had done for him. But
though she felt the greatest satisfaction at his being so conformable
to her wishes, and his fortune so adequate to his beneficence; the same
sensibility rendered her wretched for the evident melancholy in which
he was plunged. Her social affections ever awake, even on those whose
objects lie beyond the nearer ties of nature, on many occasions gave
her most painful sympathetic feelings; so deeply was she interested in
the fortunes of all with whom she had any connection. How then must
she mourn to observe, that, notwithstanding the possession of every
advantage of person and wealth, her nephew was miserable!--If men
would but consider how many things there are that riches cannot buy,
they would not be so fond of them--for all the outward advantages Lord
Munster had, were, to a man in his situation of mind, _landscapes_
before a _blind man_, or _music_ to one that _is deaf_.
Delicacy kept Lady Darnley from interrogating her nephew on the subject
of his grief; sensible that the remotest desire _from her_, must amount
to a command _to him_. She only, at parting, insinuated the happiness
it would afford her to see him ally himself suitably to some lady of
merit: and, as Lady Eliza was to accompany him to town, requested him to
moderate her liveliness, and to be a careful observer of her conduct.
'I never see (said she) a single man, who hath passed middle age in
celibacy, where no particular security arises from his profession or
character; but I think I see an unsafe subject, and a very dangerous
instrument for any mischief that his _own_ parts may _inspire_,
or _other men's_ may _prompt him_ to: As to other achievements of
virtue, a distinction _ought_, I think, to be _made_; because, in
common acceptation, there is a variety of things which pass under that
name, and are generally applauded, which, properly estimated, would
not _deserve it_. A regard to posterity hath carried arms, arts, and
literature, further than any other motive ever did or could. Who is so
likely to be influenced by this regard as they who are to leave behind
them the darling pledges of their affection, in whom they hope to have
their names continued, and all the fruits of their study, toil, and
exploits, abiding and permanent?' Lord Munster assured the Countess,
that he would ever think it his glory to conform to her wishes in ever
respect.