'I see much to respect in your conduct, and though, it is probable, someparts of it may have originated in mistaken principles, I trust, thattheir source was pure! I, also, have made many mistakes--have beenguilty of many extravagances. Yet, distrust the morality, that sternlycommands you to pierce the bosom that most reveres you, and then to callit virtue--_Yes! distrust and suspect its origin!_' I concluded withexpressing a wish to see him--'_merely as a friend_'--requesting a linein reply.
He wrote not, but came, unexpectedly came, the next evening. I expressed,in lively terms, the pleasure I felt in seeing him. We conversed onvarious subjects, he spoke affectionately of his mother, and of thetender interest she had expressed for my welfare. He enquired after mypursuits and acquirements during his absence, commending the progress Ihad made. Just before he quitted me, he adverted to the reproach I hadmade him, for not having written to me, according to his engagement.
'Recollect,' said he, 'in the last letter I received from you, before Ileft London, you hinted some suspicions--' I looked at him, 'and what,'added he, 'could I reply?'
I was disconcerted, I changed colour, and had no power to pursue thesubject.
CHAPTER V
From this period, he continued to visit me (I confess at my solicitation)more frequently. We occasionally resumed our scientific pursuits, readtogether, or entered into discussion on various topics. At length hegrew captious, disputatious, gloomy, and imperious--the more I studiedto please him, the less I succeeded. He disapproved my conduct, myopinions, my sentiments; my frankness offended him. This changeconsiderably affected me. In company, his manners were studiously coldand distant; in private capricious, yet reserved and guarded. He seemedto overlook all my efforts to please, and, with a severe and penetratingeye, to search only for my errors--errors, into which I was but tooeasily betrayed, by the painful, and delicate, situation, in which I hadplaced myself.
We, one day, accompanied Mrs Denbeigh on a visit of congratulation toher brother (eldest son of my deceased uncle Mr Melmoth), who had, whena youth, been placed by his father in a commercial house in the WestIndies, and who had just returned to his native country with an amplefortune. His sister and myself anticipated the pleasure of renewing ourearly, fraternal, affection and intimacy, while I felt a secret pride inintroducing to his acquaintance a man so accomplished and respectable asMr Harley. We were little aware of the changes which time and differentsituations produce on the character, and, with hearts and minds full ofthe frank, lively, affectionate, youth, from whom we had parted, sevenyears since, with mutual tears and embraces, shrunk spontaneously,on our arrival at Mr Melmoth's elegant house in Bedford square, fromthe cold salutation, of the haughty, opulent, purse-proud, Planter,surrounded by ostentatious luxuries, and evidently valuing himself uponthe consequence which he imagined they must give him in our eyes.
Mr Harley received the formal compliments of this favourite of fortunewith the easy politeness which distinguishes the gentleman and the manof letters, and the dignified composure which the consciousness of worthand talents seldom fails to inspire. Mr Melmoth, by his awkward andembarrassed manner, tacitly acknowledged the impotence of wealth andthe real superiority of his guest. We were introduced by our statelyrelation to his wife, the lady of the mansion, a young woman whom he hadaccidentally met with in a party of pleasure at Jamaica, whither she hadattended a family in the humble office of companion or chief attendantto the lady. Fascinated by her beauty and lively manner, our trader hadoverlooked an empty mind, a low education, and a doubtful character,and, after a very few interviews, tendered to her acceptance his handand fortune; which, though not without some affectation of doubt anddelay, were in a short time joyfully accepted.
A gentleman joined our party in the dining-room, whom the servantannounced by the name of Pemberton, in whom I presently recognized,notwithstanding some years had elapsed since our former meeting, the manof fashon and gallantry who had been the antagonist of Mr Francis, atthe table of my father. He had lately (we were informed by our host)been to Jamaica, to take possession of an estate bequeathed to him, andhad returned to England in the same vessel with Mr and Mrs Melmoth.After an elegant dinner of several courses had been served up andremoved for the desert, a desultory conversation took place.
Mr Pemberton, it appeared, held a commission in the militia, andearnestly solicited Mrs Melmoth, on whom he lavished a profusion ofcompliments, to grace their encampment, which was to be stationed in theensuing season near one of the fashionable watering places, with herpresence.
This request the lady readily promised to comply with, expressing, intones of affected softness, her admiration of military men, and of the
'Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war!'
'Do you not think, Miss Courtney,' said she, turning to me, 'thatsoldiers are the most agreeable and charming men in the world?'
'Indeed I do not, Madam; their trade is _murder_, and their trappings,in my eyes, appear but as the gaudy pomp of sacrifice.'
'_Murder_, indeed! What a harsh word--I declare you are a shockingcreature--There have always been wars in the world, and there alwaysmust be: but surely you would not confound the brave fellows, whofight to protect their King and Country, and _the ladies_, with commonruffians and housebreakers!'
'All the difference between them is, that the one, rendered desperateby passion, poverty, or injustice, endeavours by _wrong_ means to dohimself _right_, and through this terrible and pitiable mistake destroysthe life or the property of a fellow being--The others, wantonly and incold blood, cut down millions of their species, ravage whole towns andcities, and carry devastation through a country.'
'What _odd notions_! Dear, Mr Pemberton, did you ever hear a lady talkso strangely?'
Thus called upon, Mr Pemberton thought it incumbent upon him tointerfere--'_Courtney_, I think, Madam, your name is! The daughter of anold friend of mine, if I am not mistaken, and who, I remember, was, whena very young lady, a great admirer of _Roman virtues_.'
'Not of _Roman virtues_, I believe, Sir; they had in them too much ofthe destructive spirit which Mrs Melmoth thinks so admirable.'
'Indeed, I said nothing about _Roman virtues_, nor do I trouble myselfwith such subjects--I merely admired the soldiers because they are sobrave and so polite; besides, the military dress is so elegant andbecoming--Dear, Mr Pemberton, how charmingly you must look in yourregimentals!'
Mr Pemberton, bowing in return to the compliment, made an animatedeulogium on the taste and beauty of the speaker.
'Pray, Sir,' resumed she, addressing herself to Mr Harley, whoseinattention seemed to pique her, and whose notice she was determined toattract, 'are you of Miss Courtney's opinion--do you think it right tocall soldiers _murderers_?'
'Upon my word, Madam,' with an air of irony, 'you must excuse me fromentering into such _nice distinctions_--when _ladies_ differ, who shallpresume to decide?'
Mr Melmoth interposed, by wishing, 'that they had some thousandsmore of these _murderers_ in the West Indies, to keep the slaves insubordination, who, since absurd notions of liberty had been put intotheir heads, were grown very troublesome and refractory, and, in a shorttime, he supposed, would become as insolent as the English servants.'
'Would you believe it, Mrs Denbeigh,' said the Planter's lady,addressing the sister of her husband, 'Mr Melmoth and I have been inEngland but a month, and have been obliged three times to change ourwhole suit of servants?'
'This is a land of freedom, my dear sister; servants, here, will notsubmit to be treated like the slaves of Jamaica.'
'Well, I am sure it is very provoking to have one's will disputed bysuch low, ignorant, creatures. How should they know what is right? Itis enough for them to obey the orders of their superiors.'
'But suppose,' replied Mrs Denbeigh, 'they should happen to think theirsuperiors unreasonable!'
'_Think!_ sister,' said the lordly Mr Melmoth, with an exulting laugh,'what have _servants_, or _women_, to do with _thinking_?'
'Nay, now,'
interrupted Mr Pemberton, 'you are too severe upon theladies--how would the elegant and tasteful arrangement of Mrs Melmoth'sornaments have been produced without thinking?'
'Oh, you flatterer!' said the lady. 'Let them think only about theirdress, and I have no objection, but don't let them plague us with_sermonizing_.'
'Mrs Melmoth,' said I, coolly, 'does not often, I dare say, offend_in this way_. That some of the gentlemen, present, should object to awoman's exercising her discriminating powers, is not wonderful, sinceit might operate greatly to their disadvantage.'
'A blow on the right cheek, from so fair a hand,' replied Mr Pemberton,affectedly bending his body, 'would almost induce one to adopt thechristian maxim, and turn the left, also. What say you, Mr Harley?'
'Mr Harley, I believe, Sir, does not feel himself included in thereflection.'
'He is a happy man then.'
'No, Sir, merely a _rational one_!'
'You are pleased to be severe; of all things I dread a female wit.'
'It is an instinctive feeling of self-preservation--nature provides weakanimals with timidity as a guard.'
Mr Pemberton reddened, and, affecting a careless air, hummed a tune. MrMelmoth again reverted to the subject of English servants, which gaverise to a discussion on the Slave Trade. Mr Harley pleaded the cause offreedom and humanity with a bold and manly eloquence, expatiating warmlyon the iniquity as well as impolicy of so accursed a traffic. Melmothwas awed into silence. Mr Pemberton advanced some trite arguments inopposition, respecting the temporary mischiefs which might ensue, in caseof an abolition, to the planters, landholders, traders, &c. Augustusexplained, by contending only for the gradual emancipation, after theirminds had been previously prepared, of the oppressed Africans. Theconversation grew interesting. Pemberton was not devoid of talents whenhe laid aside his affectation; the subject was examined both in a moraland a political point of view. I listened with delight, while Augustusexposed and confuted the specious reasoning and sophistry of hisantagonist: exulting in the triumph of truth and justice, I secretlygloried--'with more than selfish vanity'--in the virtues and abilitiesof my friend. Though driven from all his resources, Mr Pemberton was toomuch the courtier to be easily disconcerted, but complimenting hisadversary on his eloquence, declared he should be happy to hear of hishaving a seat in Parliament.
Mrs Melmoth, who had yawned and betrayed various symptoms of wearinessduring the discussion, now proposed the adjournment of the ladies intothe drawing-room, whither I was compelled, by a barbarous and odiouscustom, reluctantly to follow, and to submit to be entertained with atorrent of folly and impertinence.
'I was ill-natured,' she told me.--'How could I be so severe upon the_charming_ and _elegant_ Mr Pemberton?'
It was in vain I laboured to convince her, that to be treated likeideots was no real compliment, and that the men who condescend toflatter our foibles, despised the weak beings they helped to form.
My remonstrances were as fatiguing, and as little to be comprehendedby this _fine lady_, as the arguments respecting the Slave Trade:--shesought refuge from them in interrogating Mrs Denbeigh respecting thelast new fashions, and in consulting her taste on the importantquestion--whether blue or violet colour was the most becoming to abrunette complexion? The gentlemen joined us, to our great relief, atthe tea-table:--other company dropped in, and the evening was beguiledwith cards and the chess-board;--at the latter Mr Melmoth and Mr Harleywere antagonists;--the former was no match for Augustus. I amused myselfby observing their moves, and overlooking the game.
During our return from this visit, some conversation occurred between MrHarley, my cousin, and myself, respecting the company we had quitted. Iexpressed my disappointment, disgust, and contempt, in terms, it may be,a little too strong.
'I was _fastidious_,' Augustus told me, 'I wanted a world made onpurpose for me, and beings formed after one model. It was both amusing,and instructive, to contemplate varieties of character. I was a romanticenthusiast--and should endeavour to become more like an inhabitant ofthe world.'
Piqued at these remarks, and at the tone and manner in which they wereuttered, I felt my temper rising, and replied with warmth; but it wasthe glow of a moment; for, to say truth, vexation and disappointment,rather than reason, had broken and subdued my spirit. Mrs Denbeigh,perceiving I was pained, kindly endeavoured to give a turn to theconversation; yet she could not help expressing her regret, on observingthe folly, levity, and extravagance, of the woman whom her brother hadchosen for a wife.
'No doubt,' said Augustus, a little peevishly, 'he is fond of her--sheis a fine woman--there is no accounting for the _caprices_ of theaffections.'
I sighed, and my eyes filled with tears--'Is, then, affection so_capricious_ a sentiment--is it possible to love what we despise?'
'I cannot tell,' retorted Mr Harley, with quickness. 'Triflers can giveno _serious_ occasion for uneasiness:--the humours of superior women aresometimes still less tolerable.'
'Ah! how unjust. If gentleness be not _the perfection of reason_, it isa quality which I have never, yet, properly understood.'
He made no reply, but sunk into silence, reserve, and reverie. On ourarrival at my apartments, I ventured (my cousin having left us) toexpostulate with him on his unkind behaviour; but was answered withseverity. Some retrospection ensued, which gradually led to the subjectever present to my thoughts.--Again I expressed a solicitude to beinformed of the real state of his heart, of the nature of thosemysterious obstacles, to which, when clearly ascertained, I was readyto submit.--'Had he, or had he not, an attachment, that looked to, asits _end_, a serious and legal engagement?' He appeared ruffled anddiscomposed.--'I ought not to be so urgent--he had already sufficientlyexplained himself.' He then repeated to me some particulars, apparentlyadverse to such a supposition--asking me, in his turn, 'If thesecircumstances bespoke his having any such event in view?'
CHAPTER VI
For some time after this he absented himself from me; and, when hereturned, his manners were still more unequal; even his sentiments, andprinciples, at times, appeared to me equivocal, and his character seemedwholly changed. I tried, in vain, to accommodate myself to a dispositionso various. My affection, my sensibility, my fear of offending--athousand conflicting, torturing, emotions, threw a constraint over mybehaviour.--My situation became absolutely intolerable--time was murdered,activity vain, virtue inefficient: yet, a secret hope inspired me, that_indifference_ could not have produced the irritations, the inequalities,that thus harrassed me. I thought, I observed a conflict in his mind;his fits of absence, and reflection, were unusual, deep, and frequent:I watched them with anxiety, with terror, with breathless expectation.My health became affected, and my mind disordered. I perceived that itwas impossible to proceed, in the manner we had hitherto done, muchlonger--I felt that it would, inevitably, destroy me.
I reflected, meditated, reasoned, with myself--'That one channel, intowhich my thoughts were incessantly impelled, was destructive of allorder, of all connection.' New projects occurred to me, which I hadnever before ventured to encourage--I revolved them in my mind, examinedthem in every point of view, weighed their advantages and disadvantages,in a moral, in a prudential, scale.--Threatening evils appeared on allsides--I endeavoured, at once, to free my mind from prejudice, and frompassion; and, in the critical and _singular_ circumstances in which Ihad placed myself, coolly to survey the several arguments of the case,and nicely to calculate their force and importance.
'If, as we are taught to believe, the benevolent Author of nature be,indeed, benevolent,' said I, to myself, 'he surely must have intendedthe _happiness_ of his creatures. Our morality cannot extend to him, butmust consist in the knowledge, and practice, of those duties which weowe to ourselves and to each other.--Individual happiness constitutesthe general good:--_happiness_ is the only true _end_ of existence;--all notions of morals, founded on any other principle, involve inthemselves a contradiction, and must be erroneous. Man does right,when pursuing interest and pleasure--it
argues no depravity--this isthe fable of superstition: he ought to only be careful, that, in seekinghis own good, he does not render it incompatible with the good ofothers--that he does not consider himself as standing alone in theuniverse. The infraction of established _rules_ may, it is possible, insome cases, be productive of mischief; yet, it is difficult to state any_rule_ so precise and determinate, as to be alike applicable to everysituation: what, in one instance, might be a _vice_, in another maypossibly become a _virtue_:--a thousand imperceptible, evanescent,shadings, modify every thought, every motive, every action, of ourlives--no one can estimate the sensations of, can form an exactjudgment for, another.
'I have sometimes suspected, that all mankind are pursuing phantoms,however dignified by different appellations.--The healing operations oftime, had I patience to wait the experiment, might, perhaps, recover mymind from its present distempered state; but, in the meanwhile, the bloomof youth is fading, and the vigour of life running to waste.--Should I,at length, awake from a delusive vision, it would be only to find myselfa comfortless, solitary, shivering, wanderer, in the dreary wildernessof human society. I feel in myself the capacities for increasing thehappiness, and the improvement, of a few individuals--and this circle,spreading wider and wider, would operate towards the grand end oflife--_general utility_.'