CHAPTER iii.
A CONFABULATION.
The next morning, while the family was at breakfast, Belfield, accordingto his promise, made his visit.
A high colour overspread his face as he entered the room, resulting froma sensation of grief at his fallen fortune, and shame at his alteredappearance, which though he endeavoured to cover under an air ofgaiety and unconcern, gave an awkwardness to his manners, and a visibledistress to his countenance: Mr Monckton received him with pleasure, andCecilia, who saw the conflict of his philosophy with his pride, dressedher features once more in smiles, which however faint and heartless,shewed her desire to reassure him. Miss Bennet, as usual when not calledupon by the master or lady of the house, sat as a cypher; and LadyMargaret, always disagreeable and repulsive to the friends of herhusband, though she was not now more than commonly ungracious, struckthe quick-feeling and irritable Belfield, to wear an air of rudesuperiority meant to reproach him with his disgrace.
This notion, which strongly affected him, made him, for one instant,hesitate whether he should remain another in the same room with her: butthe friendliness of Mr Monckton, and the gentleness and good breeding ofCecilia, seemed so studious to make amends for her moroseness, that hechecked his too ready indignation, and took his seat at the table. Yetwas it some time before he could recover even the assumed vivacity whichthis suspected insult had robbed him of, sufficiently to enter intoconversation with any appearance of ease or pleasure. But, aftera while, soothed by the attentions of Cecilia and Mr Monckton, hisuneasiness wore off, and the native spirit and liveliness of hischaracter broke forth with their accustomed energy.
"This good company, I hope," said he, addressing himself, however, onlyto Cecilia, "will not so much _mistake the thing_ as to criticise mydress of this morning; since it is perfectly according to rule, and torule established from time immemorial: but lest any of you shouldso much err as to fancy shabby what is only characteristic, I mustendeavour to be beforehand with the malice of conjecture, and have thehonour to inform you, that I am enlisted in the Grub-street regiment, ofthe third story, and under the tattered banner of scribbling volunteers!a race which, if it boasts not the courage of heroes, at least equalsthem in enmity. This coat, therefore, is merely the uniform of mycorps, and you will all, I hope, respect it as emblematical of wit anderudition."
"We must at least respect you," said Cecilia, "who thus gaily can sportwith it."
"Ah, madam!" said he, more seriously, "it is not from you I oughtto look for respect! I must appear to you the most unsteady andcoward-hearted of beings. But lately I blushed to see you from poverty,though more worthily employed than when I had been seen by you inaffluence; that shame vanquished, another equally narrow took its place,and yesterday I blushed again that you detected me in a new pursuit,though I had only quitted my former one from a conviction it was illchosen. There seems in human nature a worthlessness not to be conquered!yet I will struggle with it to the last, and either die in the attempt,or dare seem that which I am, without adding to the miseries of life,the sting, the envenomed sting of dastardly false shame!"
"Your language is wonderfully altered within this twelvemonth," said MrMonckton; "_the worthlessness of human nature_! the _miseries oflife_! this from you! so lately the champion of human nature, and thepanegyrist of human life!"
"Soured by personal disappointment," answered he, "I may perhaps speakwith too much acrimony; yet, ultimately, my opinions have not muchchanged. Happiness is given to us with more liberality than we arewilling to confess; it is judgment only that is dealt us sparingly, andof that we have so little, that when felicity is before us, we turnto the right or left, or when at the right or left, we proceed straitforward. It has been so with me; I have sought it at a distance, amidstdifficulty and danger, when all that I could wish has been immediatelywithin my grasp."
"It must be owned," said Mr Monckton, "after what you have suffered fromthis world you were wont to defend, there is little reason to wonder atsome change in your opinion."
"Yet whatever have been my sufferings," he answered, "I have generallybeen involved in them by my own rashness or caprice. My last enterpriseespecially, from which my expectations were highest, was the mostill-judged of any. I considered not how little my way of life had fittedme for the experiment I was making, how irreparably I was enervatedby long sedentary habits, and how insufficient for bodily strengthwas mental resolution. We may fight against partial prejudices, and byspirit and fortitude we may overcome them; but it will not do to warwith the general tenor of education. We may blame, despise, regret as weplease, but customs long established, and habits long indulged, assumean empire despotic, though their power is but prescriptive. Opposingthem is vain; Nature herself, when forced aside, is not more elastic inher rebound."
"Will you not then," said Cecilia, "since your experiment has failed,return again to your family, and to the plan of life you formerlysettled?"
"You speak of them together," said he, with a smile, "as if you thoughtthem inseparable; and indeed my own apprehension they would bedeemed so, has made me thus fear to see my friends, since I love notresistance, yet cannot again attempt the plan of life they would have mepursue. I have given up my cottage, but my independence is as dear to meas ever; and all that I have gathered from experience, is to maintainit by those employments for which my education has fitted me, instead ofseeking it injudiciously by the very road for which it has unqualifiedme."
"And what is this independence," cried Mr Monckton, "which has thusbewitched your imagination? a mere idle dream of romance and enthusiasm;without existence in nature, without possibility in life. In uncivilisedcountries, or in lawless times, independence, for a while, may perhapsstalk abroad; but in a regular government, 'tis only the vision of aheated brain; one part of a community must inevitably hang upon another,and 'tis a farce to call either independent, when to break the chain bywhich they are linked would prove destruction to both. The soldier wantsnot the officer more than the officer the soldier, nor the tenantthe landlord, more than the landlord the tenant. The rich owe theirdistinction, their luxuries, to the poor, as much as the poor owe theirrewards, their necessaries, to the rich."
"Man treated as an Automaton," answered Belfield, "and considered merelywith respect to his bodily operations, may indeed be called dependent,since the food by which he lives, or, rather, without which hedies, cannot wholly be cultivated and prepared by his own hands: butconsidered in a nobler sense, he deserves not the degrading epithet;speak of him, then, as a being of feeling and understanding, with prideto alarm, with nerves to tremble, with honour to satisfy, and with asoul to be immortal!--as such, may he not claim the freedom of his ownthoughts? may not that claim be extended to the liberty of speaking,and the power of being governed by them? and when thoughts, words, andactions are exempt from controul, will you brand him with dependencymerely because the Grazier feeds his meat, and the Baker kneads hisbread?"
"But who is there in the whole world," said Mr Monckton, "extensiveas it is, and dissimilar as are its inhabitants, that can pretend toassert, his thoughts, words, and actions, are exempt from controul? evenwhere interest, which you so much disdain, interferes not,--though wherethat is I confess I cannot tell!--are we not kept silent where we wishto reprove by the fear of offending? and made speak where we wish to besilent by the desire of obliging? do we not bow to the scoundrel as lowas to the man of honour? are we not by mere forms kept standing whentired? made give place to those we despise? and smiles to those we hate?or if we refuse these attentions, are we not regarded as savages, andshut out of society?"
"All these," answered Belfield, "are so merely matters of ceremony, thatthe concession can neither cost pain to the proud, nor give pleasure tothe vain. The bow is to the coat, the attention is to the rank, and thefear of offending ought to extend to all mankind. Homage such as thisinfringes not our sincerity, since it is as much a matter of course asthe dress that we wear, and has as little reason to flatter a man as theshadow whic
h follows him. I no more, therefore, hold him deceitful fornot opposing this pantomimical parade, than I hold him to be dependentfor eating corn he has not sown."
"Where, then, do you draw the line? and what is the boundary beyondwhich your independence must not step?"
"I hold that man," cried he, with energy, "to be independent, who treatsthe Great as the Little, and the Little as the Great, who neither exultsin riches nor blushes in poverty, who owes no man a groat, and whospends not a shilling he has not earned."
"You will not, indeed, then, have a very numerous acquaintance, if thisis the description of those with whom you purpose to associate! but isit possible you imagine you can live by such notions? why the Carthusianin his monastery, who is at least removed from temptation, is notmortified so severely as a man of spirit living in the world, who wouldprescribe himself such rules."
"Not merely have I prescribed," returned Belfield, "I have already putthem in practice; and far from finding any pennance, I never beforefound happiness. I have now adopted, though poor, the very plan of lifeI should have elected if rich; my pleasure, therefore, is become mybusiness, and my business my pleasure."
"And is this plan," cried Monckton, "nothing more than turningKnight-errant to the Booksellers?"
"'Tis a Knight-errantry," answered Belfield, laughing, "which, howeverludicrous it may seem to you, requires more soul and more brains thanany other. Our giants may, indeed, be only windmills, but they must beattacked with as much spirit, and conquered with as much bravery, asany fort or any town, in time of war [to] be demolished; and though thesiege, I must confess, may be of less national utility, the assailantsof the quill have their honour as much at heart as the assailants of thesword."
"I suppose then," said Monckton, archly, "if a man wants a bitinglampoon, or an handsome panegyric, some newspaper scandal, or a sonnetfor a lady--"
"No, no," interrupted Belfield eagerly, "if you imagine me a hirelingscribbler for the purposes of defamation or of flattery, you as littleknow my situation as my character. My subjects shall be my own, and mysatire shall be general. I would as much disdain to be personal with ananonymous pen, as to attack an unarmed man in the dark with a dagger Ihad kept concealed."
A reply of rallying incredulity was rising to the lips of Mr Monckton,when reading in the looks of Cecilia an entire approbation of thissentiment, he checked his desire of ridicule, and exclaimed, "spokenlike a man of honour, and one whose works may profit the world!"
"From my earliest youth to the present hour," continued Belfield,"literature has been the favourite object of my pursuit, my recreationin leisure, and my hope in employment. My propensity to it, indeed,has been so ungovernable, that I may properly call it the source of myseveral miscarriages throughout life. It was the bar to my preferment,for it gave me a distaste to other studies; it was the cause of myunsteadiness in all my undertakings, because to all I preferred it.It has sunk me to distress, it has involved me in difficulties; ithas brought me to the brink of ruin by making me neglect the meansof living, yet never, till now, did I discern it might itself be mysupport."
"I am heartily glad, Sir," said Cecilia, "your various enterprizes andstruggles have at length ended in a project which promises you so muchsatisfaction. But you will surely suffer your sister and your motherto partake of it? for who is there that your prosperity will make sohappy?"
"You do them infinite honour, madam, by taking any interest in theiraffairs; but to own to you the truth, what to me appears prosperity,will to them wear another aspect. They have looked forward to myelevation with expectations the most improbable, and thought everythingwithin my grasp, with a simplicity incredible. But though their hopeswere absurd, I am pained by their disappointment, and I have not courageto meet their tears, which I am sure will not be spared when they seeme."
"'Tis from tenderness, then," said Cecilia, half smiling, "that you arecruel, and from affection to your friends that you make them believe youhave forgotten them?"
There was a delicacy in this reproach exactly suited to work uponBelfield, who feeling it with quickness, started up, and cried, "Ibelieve I am wrong!--I will go to them this moment!"
Cecilia felt eager to second the generous impulse; but Mr Monckton,laughing at his impetuosity, insisted he should first finish hisbreakfast.
"Your friends," said Cecilia, "can have no mortification so hard to bearas your voluntary absence; and if they see but that you are happy, theywill soon be reconciled to whatever situation you may chuse."
"Happy!" repeated he, with animation, "Oh I am in Paradise! I am comefrom a region in the first rude state of nature, to civilization andrefinement! the life I led at the cottage was the life of a savage; nointercourse with society, no consolation from books; my mind locked up,every source dried of intellectual delight, and no enjoyment in my powerbut from sleep and from food. Weary of an existence which thus levelledme with a brute, I grew ashamed of the approximation, and listening tothe remonstrance of my understanding, I gave up the precipitate plan, topursue one more consonant to reason. I came to town, hired a room, andsent for pen, ink and paper: what I have written are trifles, but theBookseller has not rejected them. I was settled, therefore, in a moment,and comparing my new occupation with that I had just quitted, I seemedexalted on the sudden from a mere creature of instinct, to a rationaland intelligent being. But when first I opened a book, after so longan abstinence from all mental nourishment,--Oh it was rapture! nohalf-famished beggar regaled suddenly with food, ever seized on hisrepast with more hungry avidity."
"Let fortune turn which way it will," cried Monckton, "you may defy allits malice, while possessed of a spirit of enjoyment which nothing cansubdue!"
"But were you not, Sir," said Cecilia, "as great an enthusiast the otherday for your cottage, and for labour?"
"I was, madam; but there my philosophy was erroneous: in my ardourto fly from meanness and from dependence, I thought in labour andretirement I should find freedom and happiness; but I forgot that mybody was not seasoned for such work, and considered not that amind which had once been opened by knowledge, could ill endure thecontraction of dark and perpetual ignorance. The approach, however, ofwinter, brought me acquainted with my mistake. It grew cold, it grewbleak; little guarded against the inclemency of the ----, I felt itsseverity in every limb, and missed a thousand indulgencies which inpossession I had never valued. To rise at break of day, chill, freezing,and comfortless! no sun abroad, no fire at home! to go out in allweather to work, that work rough, coarse, and laborious!--unused to suchhardships, I found I could not bear them, and, however unwillingly, wascompelled to relinquish the attempt."
Breakfast now being over, he again arose to take leave.
"You are going, then, Sir," said Cecilia, "immediately to your friends?"
"No, madam," answered he hesitating, "not just this moment; to-morrowmorning perhaps,--but it is now late, and I have business for the restof the day."
"Ah, Mr Monckton!" cried Cecilia, "what mischief have you done byoccasioning this delay!"
"This goodness, madam," said Belfield, "my sister can never sufficientlyacknowledge. But I will own, that though, just now, in a warm moment, Ifelt eager to present myself to her and my mother, I rather wish, now Iam cooler, to be saved the pain of telling them in person my situation.I mean, therefore, first to write to them."
"You will not fail, then, to see them to-morrow?"
"Certainly--I think not."
"Nay, but certainly you _must_ not, for I shall call upon them to-day,and assure them they may expect you. Can I soften your task of writingby giving them any message from you?"
"Ah, madam, have a care!" cried he; "this condescension to a poor authormay be more dangerous than you have any suspicion! and before you havepower to help yourself, you may see your name prefixed to the Dedicationof some trumpery pamphlet!"
"I will run," cried she, "all risks; remember, therefore, you will beresponsible for the performance of my promise."
"I will be sure," ans
wered he, "not to forget what reflects so muchhonour upon myself."
Cecilia was satisfied by this assent, and he then went away.
"A strange flighty character!" cried Mr Monckton, "yet of uncommoncapacity, and full of genius. Were he less imaginative, wild andeccentric, he has abilities for any station, and might fix anddistinguish himself almost where-ever he pleased."
"I knew not," said Cecilia, "the full worth of steadiness and prudencetill I knew this young man; for he has every thing else; talents themost striking, a love of virtue the most elevated, and manners the mostpleasing; yet wanting steadiness and prudence, he can neither act withconsistency nor prosper with continuance."
"He is well enough," said Lady Margaret, who had heard the wholeargument in sullen taciturnity, "he is well enough, I say; and therecomes no good from young women's being so difficult."
Cecilia, offended by a speech which implied a rude desire to disposeof her, went up stairs to her own room; and Mr Monckton, always enragedwhen young men and Cecilia were alluded to in the same sentence, retiredto his library.
She then ordered a chair, and went to Portland-street, to fulfil whatshe had offered to Belfield, and to revive his mother and sister by thepleasure of the promised interview.
She found them together: and her intelligence being of equal consequenceto both, she did not now repine at the presence of Mrs Belfield.She made her communication with the most cautious attention to theircharacters, softening the ill she had to relate with respect toBelfield's present way of living, by endeavouring to awaken affectionand joy from the prospect of the approaching meeting. She counselledthem as much as possible to restrain their chagrin at his misfortunes,which he would but construe into reproach of his ill management; andshe represented that when once he was restored to his family, he mightalmost imperceptibly be led into some less wild and more profitablescheme of business.
When she had told all she thought proper to relate, kindly interspersingher account with the best advice and best comfort she could suggest,she made an end of her visit; for the affliction of Mrs Belfieldupon hearing the actual situation of her son, was so clamorous andunappeaseable, that, little wondering at Belfield's want of courage toencounter it, and having no opportunity in such a storm to console thesoft Henrietta, whose tears flowed abundantly that her brother shouldthus be fallen, she only promised before she left town to see her again,and beseeching Mrs Belfield to moderate her concern, was glad to leavethe house, where her presence had no power to quiet their distress.
She passed the rest of the day in sad reflections upon the meetingshe was herself to have the next morning with Mr Delvile. She wishedardently to know whether his son was gone abroad, and whether MrsDelvile was recovered, whose health, in her own letter, was mentioned interms the most melancholy: yet neither of these enquiries could she eventhink of making, since reasonably, without them, apprehensive of somereproach.