CHAPTER v.
A COTTAGE.
The evening was already far advanced, and before she arrived at the endof her little journey it was quite dark. When they came within a mileof Mr Arnott's house, the postilion, in turning too suddenly from theturnpike to the cross-road, overset the carriage. The accident, however,occasioned no other mischief than delaying their proceeding, andCecilia and her maid were helped out of the chaise unhurt. The servants,assisted by a man who was walking upon the road, began lifting it up;and Cecilia, too busy within to be attentive to what passed without,disregarded what went forward, till she heard her footman call for help.She then hastily advanced to enquire what was the matter, and foundthat the passenger who had lent his aid, had, by working in the dark,unfortunately slipped his foot under one of the wheels, and so much hurtit, that without great pain he could not put it to the ground.
Cecilia immediately desired that the sufferer might be carried to hisown home in the chaise, while she and the maid walked on to Mr Arnott's,attended by her servant on horseback.
This little incident proved of singular service to her upon firstentering the house; Mrs Harrel was at supper with her brother, andhearing the voice of Cecilia in the hall, hastened with the extremestsurprise to enquire what had occasioned so late a visit; followed by MrArnott, whose amazement was accompanied with a thousand other sensationstoo powerful for speech. Cecilia, unprepared with any excuse, instantlyrelated the adventure she had met with on the road, which quieted theircuriosity, by turning their attention to her personal safety. Theyordered a room to be prepared for her, entreated her to go to rest withall speed, and postpone any further account till the next day. With thisrequest she most gladly complied, happy to be spared the embarrassmentof enquiry, and rejoiced to be relieved from the fatigue ofconversation. Her night was restless and miserable: to know how Delvilewould bear her flight was never a moment from her thoughts, and to hearwhether he would obey or oppose his mother was her incessant wish. Shewas fixt, however, to be faithful in refusing to see him, and at leastto suffer nothing new from her own enterprize or fault.
Early in the morning Mrs Harrel came to see her. She was eager to learnwhy, after invitations repeatedly refused, she was thus suddenly arrivedwithout any; and she was still more eager to talk of herself, and relatethe weary life she led thus shut up in the country, and confined to thesociety of her brother.
Cecilia evaded giving any immediate answer to her questions, and MrsHarrel, happy in an opportunity to rehearse her own complaints, soonforgot that she had asked any, and, in a very short time, was perfectly,though imperceptibly, contented to be herself the only subject uponwhich they conversed.
But not such was the selfishness of Mr Arnott; and Cecilia, when shewent down to breakfast, perceived with the utmost concern that hehad passed a night as sleepless as her own. A visit so sudden, sounexpected, and so unaccountable, from an object that no discouragementcould make him think of with indifference, had been a subject to him ofconjecture and wonder that had revived all the hopes and the fears whichhad lately, though still unextinguished, lain dormant. The enquiries,however, which his sister had given up, he ventured not to renew, andthought himself but too happy in her presence, whatever might be thecause of her visit.
He perceived, however, immediately, the sadness that hung upon her mind,and his own was redoubled by the sight: Mrs Harrel, also, saw that shelooked ill, but attributed it to the fatigue and fright of the precedingevening, well knowing that a similar accident would have made her illherself, or fancy that she was so.
During breakfast, Cecilia sent for the postilion, to enquire of him howthe man had fared, whose good-natured assistance in their distress hadbeen so unfortunate to himself. He answered that he had turned out tobe a day labourer, who lived about half a mile off. And then, partly togratify her own humanity, and partly to find any other employment forherself and friends than uninteresting conversation, she proposed thatthey should all walk to the poor man's habitation, and offer him someamends for the injury he had received. This was readily assented to,and the postilion directed them whither to go. The place was a cottage,situated upon a common; they entered it without ceremony, and found aclean looking woman at work.
Cecilia enquired for her husband, and was told that he was gone out today-labour.
"I am very glad to hear it," returned she; "I hope then he has got thebetter of the accident he met with last night?"
"It was not him, madam," said the woman, "met with the accident, it wasJohn;--there he is, working in the garden."
To the garden then they all went, and saw him upon the ground, weeding.
The moment they approached he arose, and, without speaking, began tolimp, for he could hardly walk; away.
"I am sorry, master," said Cecilia, "that you are so much hurt. Have youhad anything put to your foot?"
The man made no answer, but still turned away from her; a glance,however, of his eye, which the next instant he fixed upon the ground,startled her; she moved round to look at him again,--and perceived MrBelfield!
"Good God!" she exclaimed; but seeing him still retreat, she recollectedin a moment how little he would be obliged to her for betraying him, andsuffering him to go on, turned back to her party, and led the way againinto the house.
As soon as the first emotion of her surprise was over, she enquired howlong John had belonged to this cottage, and what was his way of life.
The woman answered he had only been with them a week, and that he wentout to day-labour with her husband.
Cecilia then, finding their stay kept him from his employment, andwilling to save him the distress of being seen by Mr Arnott or MrsHarrel, proposed their returning home. She grieved most sincerely atbeholding in so melancholy an occupation a young man of such talents andabilities; she wished much to assist him, and began considering by whatmeans it might be done, when, as they were walking from the cottage, avoice at some distance called out "Madam! Miss Beverley!" and, lookinground, to her utter amazement she saw Belfield endeavouring to followher.
She instantly stopt, and he advanced, his hat in his hand, and his wholeair indicating he sought not to be disguised.
Surprised at this sudden change of behaviour, she then stept forwardto meet him, accompanied by her friends: but when they came up to eachother, she checked her desire of speaking, to leave him fully at libertyto make himself known, or keep concealed.
He bowed with a look of assumed gaiety and ease, but the deep scarletthat tinged his whole face manifested his internal confusion; and ina voice that attempted to sound lively, though its tremulous accentsbetrayed uneasiness and distress, he exclaimed, with a forced smile,"Is it possible Miss Beverley can deign to notice a poor miserableday-labourer such as I am? how will she be justified in the beau monde,when even the sight of such a wretch ought to fill her with horror?Henceforth let hysterics be blown to the winds, and let nerves bediscarded from the female vocabulary, since a lady so young and fair canstand this shock without hartshorn or fainting!"
"I am happy," answered Cecilia, "to find your spirits so good; yetmy own, I must confess, are not raised by seeing you in this strangesituation."
"My spirits!" cried he, with an air of defiance, "never were theybetter, never so good as at this moment. Strange as seems my situation,it is all that I wish; I have found out, at last, the true secret ofhappiness! that secret which so long I pursued in vain, but which alwayseluded my grasp, till the instant of despair arrived, when, slackeningmy pace, I gave it up as a phantom. Go from me, I cried, I will becheated no more! thou airy bubble! thou fleeting shadow! I will live nolonger in thy sight, since thy beams dazzle without warming me! Mankindseems only composed as matter for thy experiments, and I will quit thewhole race, that thy delusions may be presented to me no more!"
This romantic flight, which startled even Cecilia, though acquaintedwith his character, gave to Mrs Harrel and Mr Arnott the utmostsurprize; his appearance, and the account they had just heard of him,having by no means prepare
d them for such sentiments or such language.
"Is then this great secret of happiness," said Cecilia, "nothing, atlast, but total seclusion from the world?"
"No, madam," answered he, "it is Labour with Independence."
Cecilia now wished much to ask some explanation of his affairs, but wasdoubtful whether he would gratify her before Mrs Harrel and Mr Arnott,and hurt to keep him standing, though he leant upon a stick; she toldhim, therefore, she would at present detain him no longer, but endeavouragain to see him before she quitted her friends.
Mr Arnott then interfered, and desired his sister would entreat MissBeverley to invite whom she pleased to his house.
Cecilia thanked him, and instantly asked Belfield to call upon her inthe afternoon.
"No, madam, no," cried he, "I have done with visits and society! I willnot so soon break through a system with much difficulty formed, when allmy future tranquility depends upon adhering to it. The worthlessness ofmankind has disgusted me with the world, and my resolution in quittingit shall be immoveable as its baseness."
"I must not venture then," said Cecilia, "to enquire--"
"Enquire, madam," interrupted he, with quickness, "what you please:there is nothing I will not answer to you,--to this lady, to thisgentleman, to any and to every body. What can I wish to conceal, whereI have nothing to gain or to lose? When first, indeed, I saw you, Iinvoluntarily shrunk; a weak shame for a moment seized me, I feltfallen and debased, and I wished to avoid you: but a little recollectionbrought me back to my senses, And where, cried I, is the disgrace ofexercising for my subsistence the strength with which I am endued?and why should I blush to lead the life which uncorrupted Nature firstprescribed to man?"
"Well, then," said Cecilia, more and more interested to hear him, "ifyou will not visit us, will you at least permit us to return with you tosome place where you can be seated?"
"I will with pleasure," cried he, "go to any place where you may beseated yourselves; but for me, I have ceased to regard accommodation orinconvenience."
They then all went back to the cottage, which was now empty, the womanbeing out at work.
"Will you then, Sir," said Cecilia, "give me leave to enquire whetherLord Vannelt is acquainted with your retirement, and if it will not muchsurprize and disappoint him?"
"Lord Vannelt," cried he, haughtily, "has no right to be surprised. Iwould have quitted _his_ house, if no other, not even this cottage, hada roof to afford me shelter!"
"I am sorry, indeed, to hear it," said Cecilia; "I had hoped he wouldhave known your value, and merited your regard."
"Ill-usage," answered he, "is as hard to relate as to be endured. Thereis commonly something pitiful in a complaint; and though oppression ina general sense provokes the wrath of mankind, the investigation of itsminuter circumstances excites nothing but derision. Those who give theoffence, by the worthy few may be hated; but those who receive it, bythe world at large will be despised. Conscious of this, I disdainedmaking any appeal; myself the only sufferer, I had a right to bethe only judge, and, shaking off the base trammels of interest andsubjection, I quitted the house in silent indignation, not chusing toremonstrate, where I desired not to be reconciled."
"And was there no mode of life," said Cecilia, "to adopt, but livingwith Lord Vannelt, or giving up the whole world?"
"I weighed every thing maturely," answered he, "before I made mydetermination, and I found it so much, the most eligible, that I amcertain I can never repent it. I had friends who would with pleasurehave presented me to some other nobleman; but my whole heart revoltedagainst leading that kind of life, and I would not, therefore, idly rovefrom one great man to another, adding ill-will to disgrace, and pursuinghope in defiance of common sense; no; when I quitted Lord Vannelt, Iresolved to give up patronage for ever.
"I retired to private lodgings to deliberate what next could be done. Ihad lived in many ways, I had been unfortunate or imprudent in all.The law I had tried, but its rudiments were tedious and disgusting; thearmy, too, but there found my mind more fatigued with indolence, than mybody with action; general dissipation had then its turn, but the expenceto which it led was ruinous, and self-reproach baffled pleasure whileI pursued it; I have even--yes, there are few things I have leftuntried,--I have even,--for why now disguise it?--"
He stopt and coloured, but in a quicker voice presently proceeded.
"Trade, also, has had its share in my experiments; for that, in truth,I was originally destined,--but my education had ill suited me to such adestination, and the trader's first maxim I reversed, in lavishing whenI ought to have accumulated.
"What, then, remained for me? to run over again the same irksome round Ihad not patience, and to attempt any thing new I was unqualified: moneyI had none; my friends I could bear to burthen no longer; a fortnight Ilingered in wretched irresolution,--a simple accident at the end of ithappily settled me; I was walking, one morning, in Hyde Park, forming athousand plans for my future life, but quarrelling with them all; whena gentleman met me on horseback, from whom, at my Lord Vannelt's, I hadreceived particular civilities; I looked another way not to be seenby him, and the change in my dress since I left his Lordship's made meeasily pass unnoticed. He had rode on, however, but a few yards,before, by some accident or mismanagement, he had a fall from his horse.Forgetting all my caution, I flew instantly to his assistance; he wasbruised, but not otherwise hurt; I helpt him up, and he leant 'pon myarm; in my haste of enquiring how he had fared, I called him by hisname. He knew me, but looked surprised at my appearance; he was speakingto me, however, with kindness, when seeing some gentlemen of hisacquaintance gallopping up to him, he hastily disengaged himself fromme, and instantly beginning to recount to them what had happened, hesedulously looked another way, and joining his new companions, walkedoff without taking further notice of me. For a moment I was almosttempted to trouble him to come back; but a little recollection told mehow ill he deserved my resentment, and bid me transfer it for the futurefrom the pitiful individual to the worthless community.
"Here finished my deliberation; the disgust to the world which I hadalready conceived, this little incident confirmed; I saw it was onlymade for the great and the rich;--poor, therefore, and low, what hadI to do in it? I determined to quit it for ever, and to end everydisappointment, by crushing every hope.
"I wrote to Lord Vannelt to send my trunks to my mother; I wrote to mymother that I was well, and would soon let her hear more: I then paidoff my lodgings, and 'shaking the dust from my feet,' bid a long adieuto London; and, committing my route to chance, strole on into thecountry, without knowing or caring which way.
"My first thought was simply to seek retirement, and to depend for myfuture repose upon nothing but a total seclusion from society: but myslow method of travelling gave me time for reflection, and reflectionsoon showed me the error of this notion.
"Guilt, cried I, may, indeed, be avoided by solitude; but will misery?will regret? will deep dejection of mind? no, they will follow moreassiduously than ever; for what is there to oppose them, where neitherbusiness occupies the time, nor hope the imagination? where the pasthas left nothing but resentment, and the future opens only to a dismal,uninteresting void? No stranger to life, I knew human nature could notexist on such terms; still less a stranger to books, I respected thevoice of wisdom and experience in the first of moralists, and mostenlightened of men, [Footnote: Dr Johnson.] and reading the letter ofCowley, I saw the vanity and absurdity of _panting after solitude_.[Footnote: Life of Cowley, p.34.]
"I sought not, therefore, a cell; but, since I purposed to live formyself, I determined for myself also to think. Servility of imitationhas ever been as much my scorn as servility of dependence; I resolved,therefore, to strike out something new, and no more to retire as everyother man had retired, than to linger in the world as every other manhad lingered.
"The result of all you now see. I found out this cottage, and took upmy abode in it. I am here out of the way of all society, yet avoid thegreat evil of retr
eat, _having nothing to do_. I am constantly, notcapriciously employed, and the exercise which benefits my health,imperceptibly raises my spirits in despight of adversity. I am removedfrom all temptation, I have scarce even the power to do wrong; I have noobject for ambition, for repining I have no time:--I have, found out, Irepeat, the true secret of happiness, Labour with Independence."
He stopt; and Cecilia, who had listened to this narrative with a mixtureof compassion, admiration and censure, was too much struck with itssingularity to be readily able to answer it. Her curiosity to hear himhad sprung wholly from her desire to assist him, and she had expectedfrom his story to gather some hint upon which her services might beoffered. But none had occurred; he professed himself fully satisfiedwith his situation; and though reason and probability contradicted theprofession, she could not venture to dispute it with any delicacy orprudence.
She thanked him, therefore, for his relation, with many apologies forthe trouble she had given him, and added, "I must not express myconcern for misfortunes which you seem to regard as conducive to yourcontentment, nor remonstrate at the step you have taken, since you havebeen led to it by choice, not necessity: but yet, you must pardon me ifI cannot help hoping I shall some time see you happier, according to thecommon, however vulgar ideas of the rest of the world."
"No, never, never! I am sick of mankind, not from theory, butexperience; and the precautions I have taken against mental fatigue,will secure me from repentance, or any desire of change; for it is notthe active, but the indolent who weary; it is not the temperate, but thepampered who are capricious."
"Is your sister, Sir, acquainted with this change in your fortune andopinions?"
"Poor girl, no! She and her unhappy mother have borne but too long withmy enterprizes and misfortunes. Even yet they would sacrifice whateverthey possess to enable me to play once more the game so often lost; butI will not abuse their affection, nor suffer them again to be slaves tomy caprices, nor dupes to their own delusive expectations. I have sentthem word I am happy; I have not yet told them how or where. I fear muchthe affliction of their disappointment, and, for a while, shall concealfrom them my situation, which they would fancy was disgraceful, andgrieve at as cruel."
"And is it not cruel?" said Cecilia, "is labour indeed so sweet? and canyou seriously derive happiness from what all others consider as misery?"
"Not sweet," answered he, "in itself; but sweet, most sweet and salutaryin its effects. When I work, I forget all the world; my projects for thefuture, my disappointments from the past. Mental fatigue is overpoweredby personal; I toil till I require rest, and that rest which nature,not luxury demands, leads not to idle meditation, but to sound, heavy,necessary sleep. I awake the next morning to the same thought-exilingbusiness, work again till my powers are exhausted, and am relieved againat night by the same health-recruiting insensibility."
"And if this," cried Cecilia, "is the life of happiness, why have we somany complaints of the sufferings of the poor, and why so eternally dowe hear of their hardships and distress?"
"They have known no other life. They are strangers, therefore, to thefelicity of their lot. Had they mingled in the world, fed high theirfancy with hope, and looked forward with expectation of enjoyment; hadthey been courted by the great, and offered with profusion adulationfor their abilities, yet, even when starving, been offered nothingelse!--had they seen an attentive circle wait all its entertainment fromtheir powers, yet found themselves forgotten as soon as out of sight,and perceived themselves avoided when no longer buffoons!--Oh hadthey known and felt provocations such as these, how gladly would theirresentful spirits turn from the whole unfeeling race, and how would theyrespect that noble and manly labour, which at once disentangles themfrom such subjugating snares, and enables them to fly the ingratitudethey abhor! Without the contrast of vice, virtue unloved may be lovely;without the experience of misery, happiness is simply a dull privationof evil."
"And are you so content," cried Cecilia, "with your present situation,as even to think it offers you reparation for your past sufferings?"
"Content!" repeated he with energy, "O more than content, I am proud ofmy present situation! I glory in chewing to the world, glory still morein shewing to myself, that those whom I cannot but despise I will notscruple to defy, and that where I have been treated unworthily, I willscorn to be obliged."
"But will you pardon me," said Cecilia, "should I ask again, why inquitting Lord Vannelt, you concluded no one else worthy a trial?"
"Because it was less my Lord Vannelt, madam, than my own situation, thatdisgusted me: for though I liked not his behaviour, I found him a mantoo generally esteemed to flatter myself better usage would await mein merely changing my abode, while my station was the same. I believe,indeed, he never meant to offend me; but I was offended the more thathe should think me an object to receive indignity without knowing it. Tohave had this pointed out to him, would have been at once mortifying andvain; for delicacy, like taste, can only partially be taught, and willalways be superficial and erring where it is not innate. Those wrongs,which though too trifling to resent, are too humiliating to be borne,speech can convey no idea of; the soul must feel, or the understandingcan never comprehend them."
"But surely," said Cecilia, "though people of refinement are rare, theyyet exist; why, then, remove yourself from the possibility of meetingwith them?"
"Must I run about the nation," cried he, "proclaiming my distress, anddescribing my temper? telling the world that though dependent I demandrespect as well as assistance; and publishing to mankind, that thoughpoor I will accept no gifts if offered with contumely? Who will listento such an account? who will care for my misfortunes, but as they mayhumble me to his service? Who will hear my mortifications, but to sayI deserve them? what has the world to do with my feelings andpeculiarities? I know it too well to think calamity will soften it; Ineed no new lessons to instruct me that to conquer affliction is morewise than to relate it."
"Unfortunate as you have been," said Cecilia, "I cannot wonder at yourasperity; but yet, it is surely no more than justice to acknowledge,that hard-heartedness to distress is by no means the fault of thepresent times: on the contrary, it is scarce sooner made known, thanevery one is ready to contribute to its relief."
"And how contribute?" cried he, "by a paltry donation of money? Yes, theman whose only want is a few guineas, may, indeed, obtain them; buthe who asks kindness and protection, whose oppressed spirit calls forconsolation even more than his ruined fortune for repair, how is hisstruggling soul, if superior to his fate, to brook the ostentation ofpatronage, and the insolence of condescension? Yes, yes, the world willsave the poor beggar who is starving; but the fallen wretch, who willnot cringe for his support, may consume in his own wretchedness withoutpity and without help!"
Cecilia now saw that the wound his sensibility had received was toopainful for argument, and too recent immediately to be healed. Sheforbore, therefore, to detain him any longer, but expressing her bestwishes, without venturing to hint at her services, she arose, and theyall took their leave;--Belfield hastening, as they went, to return tothe garden, where, looking over the hedge as they passed, they saw himemployed again in weeding, with the eagerness of a man who pursues hisfavourite occupation.
Cecilia half forgot her own anxieties and sadness, in the concern whichshe felt for this unfortunate and extraordinary young man. She wishedmuch to devise some means for drawing him from a life of such hardshipand obscurity; but what to a man thus "jealous in honour," thusscrupulous in delicacy, could she propose, without more risk of offence,than probability of obliging? His account had, indeed, convinced her howmuch he stood in need of assistance, but it had shewn her no less howfastidious he would be in receiving it.
Nor was she wholly without fear that an earnest solicitude to serve him,his youth, talents, and striking manners considered, might occasion evenin himself a misconstruction of her motives, such as she already hadgiven birth to in his forward and partial mother.
The present, therefore, all circumstances weighed, seemed no season forher liberality, which she yet resolved to exert the first moment it wasunopposed by propriety.