CHAPTER IV.
_Progress of Affairs at Armine_.
LIFE is adventurous. Events are perpetually occurring, even in thecalmness of domestic existence, which change in an instant the wholetrain and tenor of our thoughts and feelings, and often materiallyinfluence our fortunes and our character. It is strange, and sometimesas profitable as it is singular, to recall our state on the eve ofsome acquaintance which transfigures our being; with some man whosephilosophy revolutionises our mind; with some woman whose charmsmetamorphose our career. These retrospective meditations are fruitful ofself-knowledge.
The visit of Glastonbury was one of those incidents which, from theunexpected results that they occasion, swell into events. He had notbeen long a guest at Armine before Sir Ratcliffe and his lady could notrefrain from mutually communicating to each other the gratification theyshould feel could Glastonbury be induced to cast his lot among them. Hisbenevolent and placid temper, his many accomplishments, and the entireaffection which he evidently entertained for everybody that bore thename, and for everything that related to the fortunes of Armine, allpointed him out as a friend alike to be cherished and to be valued.Under his auspices the garden of the fair Constance soon flourished:his taste guided her pencil, and his voice accompanied her lute. SirRatcliffe, too, thoroughly enjoyed his society: Glastonbury was with himthe only link, in life, between the present and the past. They talkedover old times together; and sorrowful recollections lost half theirbitterness, from the tenderness of his sympathetic reminiscences. SirRatcliffe, too, was conscious of the value of such a companion for hisgifted wife. And Glastonbury, moreover, among his many accomplishments,had the excellent quality of never being in the way. He was aware thatyoung people, and especially young lovers, are not averse sometimes tobeing alone; and his friends, in his absence, never felt that he wasneglected, because his pursuits were so various and his resources sonumerous that they were sure he was employed and amused.
In the pleasaunce of Armine, at the termination of a long turfen avenueof purple beeches, there was a turreted gate, flanked by round towers,intended by Sir Ferdinand for one of the principal entrances of hiscastle. Over the gate were small but convenient chambers, to which youascended by a winding stair-. case in one of the towers; the other wasa mere shell. It was sunset; the long vista gleamed in the dying rays,that shed also a rich breadth of light over the bold and baronial arch.Our friends had been examining the chambers, and Lady Armine, who was alittle wearied by the exertion, stood opposite the building, leaning onher husband and his friend.
'A man might go far, and find a worse dwelling than that portal,' saidGlastonbury, musingly. 'Me-thinks life might glide away pleasantlyenough in those little rooms, with one's books and drawings, and thisnoble avenue for a pensive stroll.'
'I wish to heaven, my dear Glastonbury, you would try the experiment,'said Sir Ratcliffe.
'Ah! do, Mr. Glastonbury,' added Lady Armine, 'take pity upon us!'
'At any rate, it is not so dull as a cloister,' added Sir Ratcliffe;'and say what they like, there is nothing like living among friends.'
'You would find me very troublesome,' replied Glastonbury, with a smile;and then, turning the conversation, evidently more from embarrassmentthan distaste, he remarked the singularity of the purple beeches.
Their origin was uncertain; but one circumstance is sure: that, beforeanother month had passed, Glastonbury was a tenant for life of theportal of Armine Castle, and all his books and collections were safelystowed and arranged in the rooms with which he had been so much pleased.
The course of time for some years flowed on happily at Armine. In thesecond year of their marriage Lady Armine presented her husband with ason. Their family was never afterwards increased, but the proud fatherwas consoled by the sex of his child for the recollection that theexistence of his line depended upon the precious contingency of a singlelife. The boy was christened Ferdinand. With the exception of an annualvisit to Lord Grandison, the Armine family never quitted their home.Necessity as well as taste induced this regularity of life. The affairsof Sir Ratcliffe did not improve. His mortgagees were more strict intheir demands of interest than his tenants in payment of their rents.His man of business, who had made his fortune in the service of thefamily, was not wanting in accommodation to his client; but he was aman of business; he could not sympathise with the peculiar feelings andfancies of Sir Ratcliffe, and he persisted in seizing every opportunityof urging on him the advisability of selling his estates. However, bystrict economy and temporary assistance from his lawyer, Sir Ratcliffe,during the first ten years of his marriage, managed to carry on affairs;and though occasional embarrassments sometimes caused him fits of gloomand despondency, the sanguine spirit of his wife, and the confidence inthe destiny of their beautiful child which she regularly enforced uponhim, maintained on the whole his courage. All their hopes and joys wereindeed centred in the education of the little Ferdinand. At ten years ofage he was one of those spirited and at the same time docile boys,who seem to combine with the wild and careless grace of childhood thethoughtfulness and self-discipline of maturer age. It was the constantand truthful boast of his parents, that, in spite of all his liveliness,he had never in the whole course of his life disobeyed them. In thevillage, where he was idolised, they called him 'the little prince;'he was so gentle and so generous, so kind and yet so dignified in hisdemeanour. His education was remarkable; for though he never quittedhome, and lived in such extreme seclusion, so richly gifted were thosefew persons with whom he passed his life, that it would have beendifficult to have fixed upon a youth, however favoured by fortune, whoenjoyed greater advantages for the cultivation of his mind and manners.From the first dawn of the intellect of the young Armine, Glastonburyhad devoted himself to its culture; and the kind scholar, who had notshrunk from the painful and patient task of impregnating a young mindwith the seeds of knowledge, had bedewed its budding promise with allthe fertilising influence of his learning and his taste. As Ferdinandadvanced in years, he had participated in the accomplishments of hismother; from her he derived not only a taste for the fine arts, but nounskilful practice. She, too, had cultivated the rich voice with whichNature had endowed him, and it was his mother who taught him not only tosing, but to dance. In more manly accomplishments, Ferdinand couldnot have found a more skilful instructor than his father, a consummatesportsman, and who, like all his ancestors, was remarkable for hisfinished horsemanship and the certainty of his aim. Under a roof, too,whose inmates were distinguished for their sincere piety and unaffectedvirtue, the higher duties of existence were not forgotten; and FerdinandArmine was early and ever taught to be sincere, dutiful, charitable,and just; and to have a deep sense of the great account hereafter tobe delivered to his Creator. The very foibles of his parents which heimbibed tended to the maintenance of his magnanimity. His illustriouslineage was early impressed upon him, and inasmuch as little now wasleft to them but their honour, so it was doubly incumbent upon him topreserve that chief treasure, of which fortune could not deprive them,unsullied.
This much of the education of Ferdinand Armine. With great giftsof nature, with lively and highly cultivated talents, and a mostaffectionate and disciplined temper, he was adored by the friends whonevertheless had too much sense to spoil him. But for his character,what was that? Perhaps, with all their anxiety and all their care, andall their apparent opportunities for observation, the parent and thetutor are rarely skilful in discovering the character of their child orcharge. Custom blunts the fineness of psychological study: those withwhom we have lived long and early are apt to blend our essential and ouraccidental qualities in one bewildering association. The consequences ofeducation and of nature are not sufficiently discriminated. Nor is it,indeed, marvellous, that for a long time temperament should be disguisedand even stifled by education; for it is, as it were, a contest betweena child and a man.
There were moments when Ferdinand Armine loved to be alone, when hecould fly from all the fondness of his friends, and roa
m in solitudeamid the wild and desolate pleasure-grounds, or wander for hours inthe halls and galleries of the castle, gazing on the pictures of hisancestors. He ever experienced a strange satisfaction in beholding theportrait of his grandfather. He would sometimes stand abstracted formany minutes before the portrait of Sir Ferdinand in the gallery,painted by Reynolds, before his grandfather left England, and which thechild already singularly resembled. But was there any other resemblancebetween them than form and feature? Did the fiery imagination and theterrible passions of that extraordinary man lurk in the innocent heartand the placid mien of his young descendant? No matter now! Behold, heis a light-hearted and airy child! Thought passes over his brow like acloud in a summer sky, or the shadow of a bird over the sunshiny earth;and he skims away from the silent hall and his momentary reverie to flya kite or chase a butterfly!