in Search of A Father Illustrated H.M.Brock HHI HIM LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. GIFT OF - -*- - : ^ CAPTAIN MARRYAT, X'VK^ ^ ^~" PJLJJ+. 'Asked me whether the spirit did not move me to get down.' P. 336. JAPHET IN SEARCH OF A FATHER BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT ILLUSTRATED BY HENRY M. BROCK WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY DAVID HANNAY MACMILLAN AND CO. AND LONDON 1895 ' //>/ ** "-' >/ COPYRIGHT, 1895, BY MACMILLAN AND CO. J. S. Gushing & Co. Berwick & Smith. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 773 INTRODUCTION WE may sometimes hear it said that the boys of this gener- ation do not enjoy Marry at. There is a similar report that they no longer take pleasure in Scott, Dumas, or Robinson Crusoe. If the report is to be believed the only comment to be made upon it is, so much the worse for the boys of this generation, and so much the worse for them, too, when they grow to be men. They are depriving themselves of a great future pleasure, for there are few better ways of con- tinuing to enjoy something of one's youth than to be able to return to what one delighted in, while it lasted, with the same feelings. This repetition of a very old observation is not made with any hope of persuading the boys of to-day to be wise enough to enjoy what is for their good as well as their pleasure. The lad who does not like Marryat, Dumas, Defoe, or Scott of his own free will and mere notion, will not be talked into wisdom, and must be left to his fate. For Marryat' s sake, however, it is to be hoped that the story is not true. He did not until towards the end of his life write expressly for the young, though when he did he pro- duced in Masterman Ready one of the best of his works; but there is this amount of truth in the mistaken estimate which classes him among the writers of boys' books, that he is best enjoyed by those who had the good fortune to begin vii j,-> * \^> f^ f\ 4' i NC ' O O JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER all but cut short at the very beginning. The Imperieuse, having been ordered to sea by a too impatient Port-Admiral before her stores were properly stowed, was driven in a gale on the rocks round Ushant, and only escaped total ship- wreck by a miracle of luck. From 1806 to 1809 she was continually on the move from the eastern end of the Pyrenees round to the Basque Roads, except for intervals during which her captain, who was a member of Parliament, was attending to his duties in the House of Commons. When at sea Cochrane was one of the most indefatigable of officers, and, moreover, a master of all the minor operations of naval warfare. The crew of the Imperieuse was never idle. There were few French warships at sea to fight, but the privateers gave abundant occasion for cutting out expeditions. When the Peninsular War began in 1808 this work was varied by landing parties on the Mediterranean coast of Spain to harass the French troops on the march, or help in the defence of Spanish posts. The attack on the French ships in the Basque Roads in April 1809 ended Cochrane' s command of the Imperieuse, as he broke his career as a naval officer in the English service by insisting upon bringing his admiral to a court martial. Marryat's novels show that he had been profoundly influenced by the strongly- marked character of the very able man under whom he had the good fortune to serve for nearly three years. He remained in the Imperieuse until he was invalided, together with a multitude of others, sailors and soldiers, officers and men, by marsh fever in the unhappy Walcheren expedition. In 1812 he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant. During the two years preceding his promotion he served in the Centaur, Sir Samuel Hood's flagship in the Mediter- ranean, and then in the dLolus and the Spartan in the West x INTRODUCTION Indies. In 1813 he returned to the same station as lieutenant of the Espiegle sloop, but was invalided home in consequence of the breaking of a blood-vessel. It was an accident to which he was liable owing to some constitutional weakness. The following year, however, saw him in active service on the North American station as lieutenant of the Newcastle, which was engaged in chasing American cruisers to no great purpose. Marryat has recorded in his pamphlet on the Press, that she was not less than one hundred men short of her proper complement, because the crew deserted in detachments. His experience in this vessel made him an enemy of the system of impressment, and in 1822 he thought out a plan for replacing it by a species of modified conscription. The pamphlet is said, though not on very good authority, to have offended William IV. It is not without interest to the student of naval history, though the scheme it contains was never seriously considered. With a very obvious inconsistency Marryat, who begins by laying it down as an undeniable proposition, that what made service in the navy repugnant to the seamen was the fact that they were compelled to enter, recommends the replacing of one system of compulsion by another. He proposed to exempt all apprentices from the Press during seven years instead of the three for which they had hitherto been protected, and in return to make them all liable to seven years' service in the navy. The abolition of compulsory apprenticeship in the merchant service has deprived Marryat' s plan of whatever practical value it ever had. We have not yet solved the problem he discussed, which is this How is the country to obtain, when war breaks out, the great num- ber of men who will be required to put the navy on a war footing, and keep it there? The brutal and unjust, but withal effective power to impress, is lost in fact, though not xi JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER sum of ^400. The faith of Colburn, the adventurous publisher who paid this large price for a first novel, was well rewarded. The Naval Officer, though it is now probably the least popular, except the Privateersman, of all Marryat's sea stories, was at the time a great success. The matter was new, the form full of spirit. The novelty and the vivacity served to carry off what was disagreeable in the book, the somewhat callous character of the hero, and the more than somewhat grimy nature of his adventures in love. The Naval Officer appeared in 1829, and its popularity made the publishers eager for more. Marryat had written the King's Own, which, curiously enough, has a rather more artful plot than his other stories, before the Naval Officer. It appeared in 1830. In this year he obtained possession of an estate in Langham in Norfolk, close to Wells-next- the-Sea, in exchange, for Sussex House, Hammersmith. How this property came into his possession we are not told. From the pecuniary point of view the bargain was a very bad one, for his thousand acres of land at Langham proved to be nothing but an incessant cause of expense to Marryat. It is clear, indeed, that he never was prudent in money matters. He not only liked to live largely, but he had a mania for speculations, and he once stood for Parliament. The fall in the value of West Indian property, in which his father's fortune was largely if not wholly invested, may have done much to embarrass him; but we have his own word for it that he had run through two fortunes, and the con- fession makes it impossible to throw the whole responsibility for his want of money on Free Trade and the Emancipa- tion of the Slaves. From the time that he began to write he certainly worked like a man to whom literature was crutch and not staff. Newton Forster followed the King's Own in 1832. Peter xiv INTRODUCTION Simple and Jacob Faithful belong to 1834. The Pacha of Many Tales came next in 1835. No less than four works, namely, Mr. Midshipman Easy, Japhet, The Pirate, and the Three Cutters (these last two being published together), appeared in 1836. In 1837 came Snarky-yow. Some doubt still exists as to how far he can be said to be the author of Rattlin the Reefer, which belongs to 1838. To say that it is Marryat's is an action which never fails to excite angry contradiction from those who are interested in the reputation of Mr. Howard. Marryat never claimed it; nor do I think that internal evidence goes to show that it can have been his in groundwork and general spirit. On the other hand, this same test of internal evidence will, I am confident, convince any one who has read, or attempted to read, either Jack Ashore or The Old Commodore, of which no man has ever attempted to deprive Mr. Howard, that Rattlin the Reefer profited most materially by its author's conversations with Captain Marryat. To resume the list of his undoubted works with their dates of publication. The PJiantom Ship belongs to 1839, and the Diary in America to the same year; Olla Podrida (a collection of short articles and stories) and Poor Jack to 1840, Master man Ready and the Poacher to 1844, Percival Keene to 1842, Monsieur Violet to 1843, tne Settlers in Canada to 1844, The Mission to 1845, tne Privateersman to 1846, the Children of the New Forest to 1847. The Little Savage and Valerie, which were neither wholly his, appeared after his death in 1848. This makes a list of twenty-four books, of which twenty-two were certainly entirely written by him in less than twenty years. Nor was this the whole of his work, for during three years (1832-1835) he edited the Metropolitan Magazine, of which he was part proprietor. The time which he could devote to literature was, to some extent at least, limited by xv JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER the restlessness of his life. Until his last years, which were spent at Langham, he was always on the move from London to Norfolk, and thence to Brighton; then abroad, apparently under the sudden pressure of some necessity in 1836; then in 1837 and 1838 to the United States, to accumulate materials for a book. Even after his return from America it was not till 1843 that he settled at Langham, where he remained, with occasional brief absences on business, or in search of medical advice and health till his death on the 8th August 1848. Little is to be learnt of his life during these years. Mrs. Church's biography of his father gives hints of family miseries which she has very properly not chosen to make public. At the end Marryat speaks of himself as writing till his eyes were as small as a mole's for money. Langham returned him nothing, and his efforts to turn it into a profitable property by experiments, mostly of a very wild order, uniformly ended in loss. In 1847 he applied for a command, and when his application was declined by the Admiralty the irritation caused by his failure threw Marryat into a fit of rage by which he broke a blood-vessel. While weakened by this repetition of an accident from which he had suffered before, he heard of the death of his eldest son Frederick, a lieutenant in the navy, who was lost in the terrible shipwreck of the Avenger on the 23rd December 1847. He followed his son within less than a year, worn out by the action of hard work and hard living on a temperament which was both restless and passionate. Much of this considerable body of writing suffers neces- sarily from the conditions in which it was done. They are defined by Marryat himself with candour in a letter written from the United States, in which he confesses that he would write no more if he were not ' rather in xvi INTRODUCTION want of money. ' Work done for money and against the grain can hardly be very good when it implies the use of faculties no man can rely on being able to command at will. Industry and judgment may answer to call, but the imagination and the creative power are infinitely less obedient. When they are forced they are apt to revenge themselves by turning out what is really only journalism in disguise. Some of Marryat's work, too, was journalism without any disguise at all. He only claims for it himself that it is 'good maga- zine stuff,' and it is hardly possible to say even as much as this for the Diary in America. It is quite unnecessary to speak of work at which nobody would ever look if it had not been done by the author of books which have lived, and will live, by merits of quite another order. That Marryat received ^1300 for the Diary in America is an interesting fact in the history of publishing. It shows that in 1839 there was a profound belief in the trade that any book about America by a writer of reputation would sell. From any other point of view the book is 'of no consequence.' That portion of Marryat's work which is of some con- sequence is none the less exceptionally large. In estimat- ing its merits it is necessary to take fairly into account the extent to which he was helped to fortune in literature by 'occasion fitting virtue.' Washington Irving exactly de- fined the character of the occasion in Marryat's case when he wrote : ' You have a glorious field before you, and one in which you cannot have many competitors, as so very few unite the author to the sailor. ' Many sailors have written well, but if by the word author we are to understand a writer who uses the sea life as the material for poetry or romance, or tale of humour and adventure, Washington Irving was almost exaggerating when he said ' very few. ' He wrote at the very beginning of Marryat's career as an xvii JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER author, and at that period he might well have said nobody. The combination of author (in this sense) and sailor has always been more than rare. Smollett's brief experience of the sea in the humble capacity of loblolly-boy hardly entitled him to be called a seaman and there is nobody else. It is true that some traces may be found of writers who attempted to combine the author and the sailor. Falconer is still fairly perceptible. But even in his case, and to an infinitely greater extent in the case of such persons as ' Poet ' Thomson, it is impossible to use the word 1 author ' if it is understood to imply the possession of style, taste, humour, pathos, or any other of those qualities which go to the production of literature. They have a certain limited value as witnesses to the student of naval history, and that is all. The example of these writers will serve, if any is needed, to prove how very little the occasion will do of itself. If Marryat had had nothing but his experience to qualify him to write sea stories, it is very certain that Peter Simple and Mr. Midshipman Easy would never have been written. What he had were the qualities which would have made him an excellent story-teller whatever his life had been before he began to write. The story which follows this introduction is in itself evidence that Marryat could write a lively tale of adventure without help from his recollections of sea life. At the same time it would be as uncritical to underrate the extent to which they did help him as it would be to attribute his excellence wholly to them. It was of infinite advantage to him that he had lived in a world so peculiar, so much a thing by itself, as the navy, and at a time when it was at its best. Something of the old barbarism still lingered about it enough to give a certain approach to an excuse for the judgment passed on the old xviii INTRODUCTION navy by one who had seen a little of it in his youth that , the officers were hardly human, and the men were fiends. Sir Gilbert Elliot, the first Lord Minto, who spent some months on Lord Hood's flagship in the Mediterranean, and saw much of the navy during the operations in Corsica, found no want of humanity in the officers, and saw nothing fiendish in the men. Discipline, high spirit, zeal, readiness to tackle the hardest work, and ingenuity in adapting means to ends were what he saw, and he com- pared them to the ' high lounge ' of the military gentlemen with whom he had to deal in Corsica, very much to the disadvantage of these latter. Sir Gilbert Elliot saw the picked crew and officers of the flagship of one of the very ablest of admirals. Nelson, too, was one of Hood's captains, and the whole squadron represented the best of the navy. In his high place the rougher side of the life would be hidden from Sir Gilbert, but his evidence at least shows that the old barbarism was so far tamed that a Scotch gentleman, in whom there was no want of fastidiousness and ' proper pride, ' could prefer it to the army as a service for his son. It is to be noted that Elliot judged by what he saw himself, and does not appear to have been in any way influenced in favour of the navy by remembering that his uncle was the Captain Elliot of the JEolus who snuffed out the French corsair Thurot in 1760. What remained of the navy as Smollett had seen it (and he, it must be remembered, deliberately exaggerated for the sake of comic effect) was enough to give a flavour and colour of its own to the service. Unquestionably it was of immense advantage to Marryat that his experience enabled him to give a picture of the English seamanhood of his time before it vanished for ever. This which Carlyle judged to be the mission of Smollett, xix JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER was certainly Marryat's in an even greater degree. Captain Savage of the Diomede, Captain M of the King 1 s Own, Captain Hector Maclean in Jacob Faithful, Terence O'Brien, the mate Martin, the midshipman Gascoigne, Thomas Saunders, the boatswain's mate, and Swinburne, the quartermaster, are beyond all question not less lifelike portraits of the officers and men of the navy than Trunnion and Bowling, Pipes and Hatchway. In one respect Marryat had an inevitable advantage over his predecessor. Smollett never shows us the seaman at his work. He could not, because he did not know it sufficiently well to under- stand it himself, still less to explain it to others. Marryat was intimately familiar with all that the author of Roderick Random could only look at from the outside; therefore he could show his seamen at their work. His scenes of battle and shipwreck are convincingly true. An easy test is to compare any of his great scenes the club-hauling of the Diomede, or the fight with the Danish gun-boats in Peter Simple, the destruction of the French liner, and the wreck of the English frigate in the King 1 s Own with the narratives of actual events told by the actors such, for example, as Captain Inglefield's account of the loss of the Centaur, or Dundonald's description of his escape from the French line of battleships. That Marryat wrote about the cutting off of dogs' tails, and other trivial matters which excited the spleen of Carlyle, is true. In themselves these incidents are neither better nor worse than the description of the scrubbing of the Nymph of the Road, with the various kind of swabs used in his Majesty's ships of war, which is to be found in Peregrine Pickle. If we are not to condemn Smollett for the one, why Marryat for the other? That Carlyle did only shows that he was stupid for once in his life. That Marryat sometimes makes use of real incidents of xx INTRODUCTION the war does not in itself add much to the verisimilitude of his pictures. Indeed, he is very chary in the use of this resource, and when originals are found for incidents in his novels (other than the avowedly personal reminiscences in the Naval Officer) their resemblance to the event in the novel is not commonly very close. Thus, for instance, the club-hauling of the Diomede has been compared to the club-hauling of the Magnificent in the storm on the west coast of France in 1812, and the destruction of the French liner in the King's Own to the hunting of Les Droits de P Homme by Pellew in 1797. But the inferences between the originals and the copies are very great. The almost superhuman feat of seamanship by which Captain Hayes saved his seventy-four from the reef of Cosseron and the reef of the Isle de Rlie", and earned for himself, from the admiration of his brother seamen, the honourable nickname of ' Magnificent Hayes, ' was a far greater thing than the imaginary achievement of Captain Savage. If Marryat had it in his mind at all when he was writing Peter Simple, he showed good sense in avoiding too close a copy. The saving of the Magnificent was so long a fight, so com- plicated, and so full of technical detail, that it would have overburdened the story, and could with difficulty have been made intelligible. Marryat wisely took a simpler version of the same feat, and told it so that any reader who will read with moderate attention can understand what Captain Savage did, and why. The destruction of Les Droits de r Homme, again, was the work of two frigates the Indefatigable, of which Pellew was captain, and the Amazon, whose captain was Reynolds the same who, as rear-admiral, was frozen to death in the wreck of the St. George on the coast of Denmark. Neither of the English captains meant deliberately to lose their ship. xxi JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER The Amazon was indeed lost, but it was because she was unwittingly taken too near the shore in the dark. In this case Marryat has magnified the feat for the sake of artistic effect. After all, however, it is not because he wrote with know- ledge and vigour of the sea and seamen, but because he wrote of possible and intrinsically interesting human beings at sea, and doing seaman-like things, that Marryat is interest- ing to the mass of readers. Thousands have laughed kindly at Mr. Chucks and Peter Simple, or have felt sorry for Martin, or have loved Masterman Ready, who do not know the bobstay from the falls, or whether there is any difference between tacking and wearing. This general human interest of his books, and his fun, have done more to make his stories readable than his accuracy in sea affairs. It is true that he rarely attains to a very high degree of reality except when he is drawing seamen. The facts that he did not begin to write till nearly forty, and that his experience had up to this age been almost wholly gained in active service, are the sufficient explanations of the superiority of his sailors to his other characters. He wrote best of what he had known best. His experience was the fund he spent as Sir Walter Scott drew on his multifarious reading when he, at about the same age, took seriously to novel-writing. If his youth had been spent among other scenes, he would have described them, for he was by nature a story-teller. Had he not been a seaman he would have written all the same, and in all probability he would have begun earlier. The merits of Captain Marryat as a teller of stories are very simple, and lie on the surface. Poe put his finger on them, and miscalled them stupidly enough, when he said that Marryat was ' essentially mediocre,' and that 'his ideas were the common property of the mob. ' As a piece of criticism, this requires to be completed by Poe's final xxii INTRODUCTION fling that he had known twenty young Americans who could do as good in a week. We have been waiting for those young men to begin these many years. Translated into sense what this means is that Marryat drew average human beings doing as average human beings do, on the usual motives. It is an idea of the mob that the good things of the world are desirable, and Marryat shared the opinion. It is an idea of the mob that a story ought to amuse, and, as a rule, to end happily, and in this Captain Marryat agreed with his readers. The ideas of the mob were interpreted very similarly by Scott and Dumas. When Captain Marryat went wrong, it was when he did not share the ' mob's ' artistic preference for honesty in the heroes of its stories and melodramas when he drew such a couple of cubs as Frank Mildmay and Percival Keene. The want of construction of plot which has been complained of in his stories was a defect he shared with all his contempor- aries. It would be difficult to point out many traces of construction in the stories of Sir Walter himself, or of Lever, or of Dickens in his early days. The fun, too, of Marryat is of the kind which is ' the common property of the mob ' that is to say, it is good, hearty laughter at human absurdities and mishaps. There are still some of us who will unabashedly confess to a wish that they could get more of it. Captain Marryat' s writing has never been held to give him a title to the name of stylist, but his narrative prose has been compared to Defoe's by so good a judge as Lockhart. The bits of his own verse which are to be found in his books prove his power to handle language. ' The captain stood on the carronade, ' ' Poll put her arms akimbo, ' and ' Now your father is asleep, maid, listen unto me,' are excellent good verse of the kind which does not profess to be poetry, and which can be sung. It is not xxiii JAI'IIKT, IN SEARCH OK A FAT I IKK the highest., or even high, but it is unpretentious and is genuine. The book which has been chosen as the first of this set is perhaps the least Marryat-likc of Captain Marryat's stories. It. is ;i in>'Vt'/(t y Macmillan & Co. JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER change and why was Harcourt there ? Could he have prejudiced them against me ? Very possibly.' While these ideas were running in my mind, and I was making comparisons between Cecilia de Clare and Susannah Temple not much in favour of the former and looking forward prospectively to the meeting with my father, the doubts as to my reception in society colouring everything with the most sombre tints, the door opened, and in walked Harcourt, announced by the waiter. 1 A chair for Mr. Harcourt, 7 said I to the waiter, with formality. ' Newland,' said Harcourt, * I come for two reasons : in the first place I am commissioned by the ladies to assure you ' I beg your pardon, Mr. Harcourt, for interrupting you, but I require no ambassador from the ladies in question. They may make you their confidant if they please, but I am not at all inclined to do the same. Explanation, after what I witnessed and felt this morning, is quite unnecessary. I surrender all claims upon either Lady de Clare or her daughter, if I ever was so foolhardy as to imagine that I had any. The first reason of your visit it is therefore useless to proceed with. May I ask the other reason which has procured me this honour ? ' ' I hardly know, Mr. Newland,' replied Harcourt, colouring deeply, < whether after what you have now said I ought to proceed with the second it related to myself.' ' I am all attention, Mr. Harcourt,' replied I, bowing politely. ' It was to say, Mr. Newland, that I should have taken the earliest opportunity after my recovery, had you not disappeared so strangely, to have expressed my sorrow for my conduct towards you, and to have acknowledged that I had been deservedly punished : more perhaps by my own feelings of remorse, than by the dangerous wound I had received by your hand. I take even this opportunity, although not apparently a favourable one, of expressing what I consider it my duty, as a gentleman who has wronged another, to express. I certainly was going to add more, but there is so little chance of its being well received, that I had better defer it to some future opportunity. The time may come, and I certainly trust it 35 1 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER will come, when I may be allowed to prove to you that I am not deserving of the coolness with which I am now received. Mr. Newland, with every wish for your happiness, I will now take my leave ; but I must say, it is with painful sentiments, as I feel that the result of this interview will be the cause of great distress to those who are bound to you not only by gratitude, but sincere regard.' Harcourt then bowed, and quitted the room. * It's all very well,' muttered I, ' but I know the world and am not to be soothed down by a few fine words. I trust that they will be sorry for their conduct, but see me again inside their doors they will not ' ; and I sat down, trying to feel satisfied with myself but I was not ; I felt that I had acted harshly, to say no more. I ought to have listened to an explanation sent by Cecilia and her mother, after her coming downstairs to expostulate. They were under great obligations to me, and by my quick resentment, I rendered the obligations more onerous. It was unkind of me and I wished that Harcourt had not left the room. As for his conduct, I tried to find fault with it, but could not. It was gentlemanly and feeling. The fact was, I was in a very bad humour, and could not at the time discover the reason, which was neither more nor less than that I was more jealous of finding Harcourt so intimate at Lady de Clare's, than I was at the unpalatable reception which I had met with. The waiter came in, and brought me a note from Mr. Masterton. ' I have this morning received a summons from your father, who returned, it appears, two days ago, and is now at the Adelphi Hotel. I am sorry to say, that stepping out of his carriage when travelling, he missed his footing, and snapped his tendon Achilles. He is laid up on a couch, and, as you may suppose, his amiability is not increased by the accident, and the pain attending it. As he has requested me to bring forward immediate evidence as to your identity, and the presence of Mr. Cophagus is necessary, I propose that we start for Reading to-morrow at nine o'clock. I have a curiosity to go down there, and having a leisure day or two, it will be a relaxation. I wish to see my old acquaintance Timothy, and your shop. Answer by bearer. 'J. MASTERTON.' 352 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER I wrote a few lines, informing Mr. Masterton that I would be with him at the appointed hour, and then sat down to my solitary meal. How different from when I was last at this hotel ! Now I knew nobody. I had to regain my footing in society, and that could only be accomplished by being acknowledged by my father ; and, as soon as that was done, I would call upon Lord Windermear, who would quickly effect what I desired. The next morning I was ready at nine o'clock, and set off with post-horses, with Mr. Masterton, in his own carriage. I told him what had occurred the day before, and how disgusted I was at my reception. ' Upon my word, Japhet, I think you are wrong,' replied the old gentleman ; ' and if you had not told me of your affection for Miss Temple, to see whom, by the bye, I confess to be one of the chief motives of my going down with you, I should almost suppose that you were blinded by jealousy. Does it not occur to you, that if Mr. Harcourt was admitted to the ladies at such an early hour, there was preference shown him in that quarter? And now I recollect that I heard something about it. Harcourt's elder brother died, and he's come into the property, and I heard somebody say that he would in all probability succeed in gaining the hand- somest girl in London with a large fortune that it was said to be a match. Now, if such be the case, and you broke in upon a quiet reunion between two young people about to be united, almost without announcement, and so unexpectedly, after a lapse of so long a time, surely you cannot be surprised at there being a degree of confusion and restraint more especially after what had passed between Harcourt and you. Depend upon it, that was the cause of it. Had Lady de Clare and her daughter been alone, your reception would have been very different ; indeed, Cecilia's following you downstairs proves that it was not from coolness to- wards you ; and Harcourt calling upon you, and the conver- sation which took place, is another proof that you have been mistaken.' ' I never viewed it in that light, certainly, sir,' observed I. 'I merely perceived that I was considered intrusive, and finding in the company one who had treated me ill, and had been my antagonist in the field, I naturally supposed that he had prejudiced them against me. I hope I may 2 A 353 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER be wrong ; but I have seen so much of the world, young as I am, that I have become very suspicious.' ' Then discard suspicion as fast as you can ; it will only make you unhappy, and not prevent your being deceived. If you are suspicious, you will have the constant fear of deception hanging over you, which poisons existence.' After these remarks I remained silent for some time ; I was analysing my own feelings, and I felt that I had acted in a very absurd manner. The fact was, that one of my castle buildings had been, that I was to marry Fleta as soon as I had found my own father, and this it was which had actuated me, almost without my knowing it. I felt jealous of Harcourt, and that without being in love with Miss de Clare, but actually passionately fond of another person ; I felt as if I could have married her without loving her, and that I could give up Susannah Temple, whom I did love, rather than that a being whom I considered as almost of my own creation should herself presume to fall in love, or that another should dare to love her, until I had made up my mind whether I should take her myself; and this after so long an absence, and their having given up all hopes of ever seeing me again. The reader may smile at the absurdity, still more at the selfishness of this feeling ; so did I, when I had reflected upon it, and I despised myself for my vanity and folly. ' What are you thinking of, Japhet ? ' observed Mr. Masterton, tired with my long abstraction. ' That I have been making a most egregious fool of myself, sir,' replied I, ' with respect to the De Clares.' ' I did not say so, Japhet ; but to tell you the truth, I thought something very like it. Now tell me, were you not jealous at finding her in company with Harcourt ? ' ' Exactly so, sir.' ' I'll tell Susannah Temple when I see her, that she may form some idea of your constancy,' replied Mr. Masterton, smiling. 'Why what a dog in the manger you must be you can't marry them both. Still, under the circumstances, I can analyse the feeling it is natural, but all that is natural is not always creditable to human nature. Let us talk a little about Susannah, and all these vagaries will be dispersed. How old is she ? ' 354 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER Mr. Masterton plied me with so many questions relative to Susannah, that her image alone soon filled my mind, and I recovered my spirits. ' I don't know what she will say at my being in this dress, sir,' observed I. l Had I not better change it on my arrival ? ' * By no means ; I'll fight your battle I know her character pretty well, thanks to your raving about her.' CHAPTER LXXIII Contains much learned argument upon broad-brims and garments of grey I get the best of it The one great wish of my life is granted I meet my father, and a cold reception, very indicative of much after-heat. WE arrived in good time at Reading, and, as soon as we alighted at the inn, we ordered dinner, and then walked down to the shop, where we found Timothy very busy tying down and labelling. He was delighted to see Mr. Masterton ; and perceiving that I had laid aside the Quaker's dress, made no scruple of indulging in his humour, making a long face, and tkee-mg and thou-va% Mr. Masterton in a very absurd manner. We desired him to go to Mr. Cophagus, and beg that he would allow me to bring Mr. Masterton to drink tea, and afterwards to call at the inn and give us the answer. We then returned to our dinner. 'Whether they will ever make a Quaker of you, Japhet, I am very doubtful,' observed Mr. Masterton, as we walked back ; * but as for making one of that fellow Timothy, I'll defy them.' ' He laughs at everything,' replied I, ' and views every- thing in a ridiculous light at all events, they never will make him serious.' In the evening we adjourned to the house of Mr. Cophagus, having received a message of welcome. I entered the room first. Susannah came forward to welcome me, and then drew back, when she perceived the alteration in my apparel, colouring deeply. I passed her, and took the hand of Mrs. Cophagus and her husband, and then introduced Mr. Masterton. 355 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER 'We hardly knew thee, Japhet,' mildly observed Mrs. Cophagus. ' I did not think that outward garments would disguise me from my friends,' replied I ; ' but so it appeareth, for your sister hath not even greeted me in welcome.' * I greet thee in all kindness, and all sincerity, Japhet Newland,' replied Susannah, holding out her hand. 'Yet did I not imagine that, in so short a time, thou wouldst have dismissed the apparel of our persuasion, neither do I find it seemly.' ( Miss Temple,' interposed Mr. Masterton, ' it is to oblige those who are his sincere friends, that Mr. Newland has laid aside his dress. I quarrel with no creed every one has a right to choose for himself, and Mr. Newland has perhaps not chosen badly, in embracing your tenets. Let him continue steadfast in them. But, fair young lady, there is no creed which is perfect, and, even in yours, we find imperfection. Our religion preaches humility, and therefore we do object to his wearing the garb of pride.' ' Of pride, sayest thou ? hath he not rather put off the garb of humility, and now appeareth in the garb of pride ? ' ' Not so, young madam : when we dress as all the world dress, we wear not the garb of pride ; but when we put on a dress different from others, that distinguishes us from others, then we show our pride, and the worst of pride, for it is the hypocritical pride which apes humility. It is the Pharisee of the Scriptures, who preaches in high places, and sounds forth his charity to the poor ; not the humility of the Publican, who says, " Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner." Your apparel of pretended humility is the garb of pride, and for that reason have we insisted that he discards it, when with us. His tenets we interfere not with. There can be no religion in dress ; and that must indeed be weak in itself, which requires dress for its support.' Susannah was astonished at this new feature of the case, so aptly put by the old lawyer. Mrs. Cophagus looked at her husband, and Cophagus pinched my arm, evidently agree- ing with him. When Mr. Masterton had finished speaking, Susannah waited a few seconds, and then replied, ' It becomes not one so young and weak as I am, to argue with thee, 356 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER who art so much my senior. I cannot cavil at opinions which, if not correct, at least are founded on the holy writings ; but I have been otherwise instructed.' 'Then let us drop the argument, Miss Susannah, and let me tell you, that Japhet wished to resume his Quaker's dress, and I would not permit him. If there is any blame, it is to be laid to me ; and it's no use being angry with an old man like myself.' ' I have no right to be angry with any one,' replied Susannah. * But you were angry with me, Susannah,' interrupted I. ' I cannot say that it was anger, Japhet Newland ; I hardly know what the feeling might have been ; but I was wrong, and I must request thy forgiveness ' ; and Susannah held out her hand. ' Now you must forgive me too, Miss Temple,' said old Masterton, and Susannah laughed against her wishes. The conversation then became general. Mr. Masterton explained to Mr. Cophagus what he required of him, and Mr. Cophagus immediately acceded. It was arranged that he should go to town by the mail the next day. Mr. Masterton talked a great deal about my father, and gave his character in its true light, as he considered it would be advantageous to me so to do. He then entered into conversation upon a variety of topics, and was certainly very amusing. Susannah laughed very heartily before the evening was over, and Mr. Masterton retired to the hotel, for I had resolved to sleep in my own bed. I walked home with Mr. Masterton : I then returned to the house, and found them all in the parlour. Mrs. Cophagus was expressing her delight at the amusement she had received, when I entered with a grave face. ' I wish that I had not left you,' said I to Mrs. Cophagus ; * I am afraid to meet my father ; he will exact the most implicit obedience. What am I to do ? Must not I obey him ?' * In all things lawful,' replied Susannah, ' most certainly, Japhet.' ' In all things lawful, Susannah ! now tell me, in the very case of my apparel : Mr. Masterton says, that he never will permit me to wear the dress. What am I to do ? ' ' Thou hast thy religion and thy Bible for thy guide, Japhet' 357 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER ' I have ; and in the Bible I find written on tablets of stone by the prophet of God, " Honour thy father and thy mother" ; there is a positive commandment : but I find no command- ment to wear this or that dress. What think you ?' continued I, appealing to them all. ' I should bid thee honour thy father, Japhet, replied Mrs. Cophagus, * and you, Susannah ' ' I shall bid thee good-night, Japhet. 5 At this reply we all laughed, and I perceived there was a smile on Susannah's face as she walked away. Mrs. Coph- agus followed her, laughing as she went, and Cophagus and I were alone. 'Well, Japhet see old gentleman kiss shake hands and blessing and so on.' ' Yes, sir,' replied I ; ' but if he treats me ill, I shall prob- ably come down here again. I am afraid that Susannah is not very well pleased with me.' ' Pooh, nonsense wife knows all die for you Japhet, do as you please dress yourself dress her any dress no dress like Eve sly puss won't lose you all right and so on.' I pressed Mr. Cophagus to tell me all he knew, and I found from him that his wife had questioned Susannah soon after my departure, had found her weeping, and that she had gained from her the avowal of her ardent affection for me. This was all I wanted, and I wished him good-night, and went to bed happy. I had an interview with Susannah Temple before I left the next morning, and, although I never mentioned love, had every reason to be satisfied. She was kind and affectionate ; spoke to me in her usual serious manner, warned me against the world, acknowledged that I should have great difficulties to surmount, and even made much allowance for my peculiar situation. She dared not advise, but she would pray for me. There was a greater show of interest and confidence towards me than I had ever yet received from her : when I parted from her I said, Dear Susannah, whatever change may take place in my fortunes or in my dress, believe me, my heart shall not be changed, and I shall ever adhere to those principles which have been instilled into me since I have been in your company.' This was a phrase which admitted of a double meaning, 358 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER and she replied, ' I should wish to see thee perfect, Japhet ; but there is no perfection now on earth ; be therefore as perfect as you can.' * God bless you, Susannah.' ' May the blessing of the Lord be on you always, Japhet,' replied she. I put my arm round her waist, and slightly pressed her to my bosom. She gently disengaged herself, and her large eyes glistened with tears as she left the room. In a quarter of an hour I was with Mr. Masterton on the road to London. ' Japhet,' said the old gentleman, ' I will say that you have been very wise in your choice, and that your little Quaker is a most lovely creature : I am in love with her my- self, and I think she is far superior in personal attractions to Cecilia de Clare.' 'Indeed, sir!' ' Yes, indeed ; her face is more classical, and her com- plexion is unrivalled ; as far as my present knowledge and experience go, she is an emblem of purity.' ' Her mind, sir, is as pure as her person.' ' I believe it ; she has a strong mind, and will think for herself.' ' There, sir, is, I am afraid, the difficulty ; she will not yield a point in which she thinks she is right, not even for her love for me.' 1 I agree with you that she will not, and I admire her for it ; but, Japhet, she will yield to conviction, and depend upon it, she will abandon the outward observances of her persuasion. Did you observe what a spoke I put in your wheel last night, when I stated that outward forms were pride. Leave that to work, and I'll answer for the consequences : she will not long wear that Quaker's dress. How beautiful she would be if she dressed like other people ! I think I see her now entering a ball-room.' * But what occasions you to think she will abandon her persuasion ? ' ' I do not say that she will abandon it, nor do I wish her to do it, nor do I wish you to do it, Japhet. There is much beauty and much perfection in the Quaker's creed. All that requires to be abandoned are the dress and the ceremonies of the meetings, which are both absurdities. Recollect, that Miss 359 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER Temple has been brought up as a Quaker ; she has, from the exclusiveness of the sect, known no other form of worship, and never heard any opposition to that which has been inculcated ; but let her once or twice enter the Established Church, hear its beautiful ritual, and listen to a sound preacher. Let her be persuaded to do that, which cannot be asking her to do wrong, and then let her think and act for herself, and my word for it, when she draws the comparison between what she has then heard and the nonsense occasionally uttered in the Quaker's conventicle, by those who fancy themselves inspired, she will herself feel that, although the tenets of her persuasion may be more in accordance with true Christianity than those of other sects, the outward forms and observances are imper- fect. I trust to her own good sense.' ' You make me very happy by saying so.' ' Well, that is my opinion of her, and if she proves me to be correct, hang me if I don't think I shall adopt her.' ' What do you think of Mrs. Cophagus, sir ? ' * I think she is no more a Quaker in her heart than I am. She is a lively, merry, kind-hearted creature, and would have no objection to appear in feathers and diamonds to-morrow. } * Well, sir, I can tell you that Mr. Cophagus still sighs after his blue cotton net pantaloons and Hessian boots.' ' More fool he ! but, however, I am glad of it, for it gives me an idea which I shall work upon by and by ; at present we have this eventful meeting between you and your father to occupy us.' We arrived in town in time for dinner, which Mr. Masterton had ordered at his chambers. As the old gentle- man was rather tired with his two days' travelling, I wished him good-night at an early hour. ' Recollect, Japhet, we are to be at the Adelphi Hotel to-morrow at one o'clock come in time.' I called upon Mr. Masterton at the time appointed on the ensuing day, and we drove to the hotel in which my father had located himself. On our arrival, we were ushered into a room on the ground-floor, where we found Mr. Cophagus and two of the governors of the Foundling Hospital. ' Really, Mr. Masterton,' said one of the latter gentlemen, ' one would think that we were about to have an audience with a sovereign prince, and, instead of conferring favours, were 360 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER about to receive them. My time is precious : I ought to have been in the city this half-hour, and here is this old nabob keeping us waiting as if we were petitioners.' Mr. Masterton laughed and said, * Let us all go upstairs, and not wait to be sent for.' He called one of the waiters, and desired him to announce them to General De Benyon. They then followed the waiter, leaving me alone. I must say, that I was a little agitated ; I heard the door open above, and then an angry growl like that of a wild beast ; the door closed again and all was quiet. ' And this,' thought I, * is the result of all my fond anticipa- tions, of my ardent wishes, of my enthusiastic search. In- stead of expressing anxiety to receive his son, he litigiously requires proofs, and more proofs, when he has received every satisfactory proof already. They say his temper is violent beyond control, and that submission irritates instead of appeas- ing him : what then if I resent ? I have heard that people of that description are to be better met with their own weapons : suppose I try it ; but no, I have no right : I will how- ever be firm, and keep my temper under every circumstance : I will show him, at least, that his son has -the spirit and the feelings of a gentleman.' As these thoughts passed in my mind the door opened, and Mr. Masterton requested me to follow him. I obeyed with a palpitating heart ; and when I had gained the landing-place upstairs, Mr. Masterton took my hand and led me into the presence of my long-sought-for and much-dreaded parent. I may as well describe him and the whole tableau. The room was long and narrow, and, at the farther end, was a large sofa, on which was seated my father with his injured leg reposing on it, his crutches propped against the wall. On each side of him were two large poles and stands, each with a magnificent macaw. Next to the macaws were two native servants, arrayed in their muslin dresses, with their arms folded. A hooka was in advance of the table before the sofa ; it was magnificently wrought in silver, and the snake passed under the table, so that the tube was within my honoured father's reach. On one side of the room sat the two governors of the Foundling Hospital, on the other was seated Mr. Cophagus in his Quaker's dress ; the empty chair next to him had been occupied by Mr. Masterton. I looked at my father : he was a man of 361 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER great size, apparently six feet three or four inches, and stout in proportion, without being burdened with fat : he was gaunt, broad-shouldered and muscular, and, I think, must have weighed seventeen or eighteen stone. His head was in pro- portion to his body, and very large ; so were all his features upon the same grand scale. His complexion was of a brownish- yellow, and his hair of a snowy white. He wore his whiskers very large and joined together under the throat, and these, which were also white, from the circle which they formed round his face, and contrasting with the colour of his skin, gave his tout ensemble much more the appearance of a royal Bengal tiger than a gentleman. General de Benyon saw Mr. Masterton leading me forward to within a pace or two of the table before him. 'Allow me the pleasure of introducing your son, Japhet.' There was no hand extended to welcome me. My father fixed his proud grey eyes upon me for a moment, and then turned to the governors of the hospital. * Is this the person, gentlemen, whom you received as an infant and brought up as Japhet Newland ? ' The governors declared I was the same person ; that they had bound me to Mr. Cophagus, and had seen me more than once since I quitted the Asylum. ' Is this the Japhet Newland whom you received from these gentlemen and brought up to your business ? ' * Yea, and verily I do affirm the same smart lad good boy and so on.' ' I will not take a Quaker's affirmation will you take your oath, sir ? ' ' Yes,' replied Cophagus, forgetting his Quakership ; ' take oath bring Bible kiss book and so on.' * You, then, as a Quaker, have no objection to swear to the identity of this person ? ' 'Swear,' cried Cophagus, 'yes, swear swear now not Japhet ! I'm damned go to hell and so on.' The other parties present could not help laughing at this explosion from Cophagus, neither could I. Mr. Masterton then asked the general if he required any more proofs. ' No,' replied the general discourteously ; and speaking in Hindostanee to his attendants, they walked to the door and opened it. The hint was taken, Mr. Masterton saying to the 362 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER others in an ironical tone, * After so long a separation, gentle- men, it must be natural that the general should wish to be left alone, that he may give vent to his paternal feelings.' CHAPTER LXXIV Father and I grow warm in our argument Obliged to give him a little schooling to show my affection Takes it at last very kindly, and very dutifully owns himself a fool. IN the meantime, I was left standing in the middle of the room: the gentlemen departed, and the two native servants resumed their stations on each side of the sofa. I felt humiliated and indignant, but waited in silence ; at last, my honoured parent, who had eyed me for some time, commenced : ' If you think, young man, to win my favour by your good looks, you are very much mistaken : you are too like your mother, whose memory is anything but agreeable.' The blood mounted to my forehead at this cruel observation ; I folded my arms and looked my father steadfastly in the face, but made no reply. The choler of the gentleman was raised. * It appears that I have found a most dutiful son.' I was about to make an angry answer, when I recollected myself, and I courteously replied, ' My dear general, depend upon it that your son will always be ready to pay duty to whom duty is due ; but excuse me, in the agitation of this meeting you have forgotten those little attentions which courtesy de- mands : with your permission I will take a chair, and then we may converse more at our ease. I hope your leg is better.' I said this with the blandest voice and the most studied politeness, and drawing a chair towards the table, I took my seat ; as I expected, it put my honoured father in a tremendous rage. ' If this is a specimen, sir, of your duty and respect, sir, I hope to see no more of them. To whom your duty is due, sir ! and pray to whom is it due, sir, if not to the author of your existence ? ' cried the general, striking the table before him with his enormous fist, so as to make the ink fly out of the stand some inches high and bespatter the papers near it. 36.3 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER * My dear father, you are perfectly correct : duty, as you say, is due to the author of our existence. If I recollect right, the commandment says, "Honour your father and your mother" ; but at the same time, if I may venture to offer an observation, are there not such things as reciprocal duties some which are ' I folded my arms and looked my father steadfastly in the face.' even more paramount in a father than the mere begetting of a son?' ' What do you mean, sir, by these insolent remarks ? 5 in- terrupted my father. ' Excuse me, my dear father, I may be wrong, but if so, I 3 6 4 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER will bow to your superior judgment ; but it does appear to me, that the mere hanging me in a basket at the gate of the Foundling Hospital, and leaving me a bank-note of fifty pounds to educate and maintain me until the age of twenty-four, are not exactly all the duties incumbent upon a parent. If you think that they are, I am afraid that the world, as well as myself, will be of a different opinion. Not that I intend to make any complaint, as I feel assured that now circumstances have put it in your power, it is your intention to make me amends for leaving me so long in a state of destitution, and wholly dependent upon my own resources.' ' You do, do you, sir ? well, now, I'll tell you my resolution, which is There is the door go out, and never let me see your face again.' ' My dear father, as I am convinced this is only a little pleasantry on your part, or perhaps a mere trial whether I am possessed of the spirit and determination of a De Benyon, I shall, of course, please you by not complying with your humorous request.' ' Won't you, by G d ? ' roared my father ; then turning to his two native servants, he spoke to them in Hindostanee. They immediately walked to the door, threw it wide open, and then coming back to me, were about to take me by the arms. I certainly felt my blood boil, but I recollected how necessary it was to keep my temper. I rose from my chair, and ad- vancing to the side of the sofa I said ' My dear father, as I perceive that you do not require your crutches at this moment, you will not perhaps object to my taking one. These foreign scoundrels must not be per- mitted to insult you through the person of your only son.' ' Turn him out,' roared my father. The natives advanced, but I whirled the crutch round my head, and in a moment they were both prostrate. As soon as they gained their feet, I attacked them again, until they made their escape out of the room ; I then shut the door and turned the key. ' Thank you, my dear sir,' said I, returning the crutch to where it was before. * Many thanks for thus permitting me to chastise the insolence of these black scoundrels, whom, I take it for granted, you will immediately discharge ' ; and I again took my seat in the chair, bringing it closer to him. 365 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER The rage of the general was now beyond all bounds ; the white foam was spluttered out of his mouth, as he in vain endeavoured to find words. Once he actually rose from the sofa, to take the law in his own hands, but the effort seriously injured his leg, and he threw himself down in pain and disappointment. ' My dear father, I am afraid that, in your anxiety to help me, you have hurt your leg again,' said I, in a soothing voice. ' Sirrah, sirrah,' exclaimed he at last, ' if you think that this will do, you are very much mistaken. You don't know me. You may turn out a couple of cowardly blacks, but now I'll show you that I am not to be played with. I discard you for ever I disinherit I disacknowledge you. You may take your choice, either to quit this room, or be put into the hands of the police.' * The police, my dear sir ! What can the police do ? I may call in the police for the assault just committed by your servants, and have them up to Bow Street, but you cannot charge me with an assault.' ' But I will, by G d, sir, true or not true.' ' Indeed you would not, my dear father. A De Benyon would never be guilty of a lie. Besides, if you were to call in the police ; I wish to argue this matter coolly, because I ascribe your present little burst of ill-humour to your sufferings from your unfortunate accident. Allowing, then, my dear father, that you were to charge me with an assault, I should immediately be under the necessity of charging you also, and then we must both go to Bow Street together. Were you ever at Bow Street, general ? ' The general made no reply, and I proceeded. f Besides, my dear sir, only imagine how very awkward it would be when the magistrate put you on your oath, and asked you to make your charge. What would you be obliged to declare ? That you had married when young, and finding that your wife had no fortune, had deserted her the second day after your marriage. That you, an officer in the army, and the Honourable Captain De Benyon, had hung up your child at the gates of the Foundling Hospital that you had again met your wife, married to another, and had been an accomplice in concealing her capital offence of bigamy, and had had meetings with her, although she belonged to another. I say meetings, for you did meet 366 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER her, to receive her directions about me. I am charitable, and suspect nothing others will not be so. Then, after her death, you come home and inquire about your son. His identity is established and what then ? not only you do not take him by the hand, in common civility, I might say, but you first try to turn him out of the house, and to give him in charge of the police ; and then you will have to state for what. Perhaps you will answer me that question, for I really do not know.' By this time, my honoured father's wrath had, to a certain degree, subsided : he heard all I had to say, and he felt how very ridiculous would have been his intended proceedings, and, as his wrath subsided, so did his pain increase : he had seriously injured his leg, and it was swelling rapidly the bandages tightened in consequence, and he was suffering under the acutest pain. ' Oh, oh ! ' groaned he. ' My dear father, can I assist you ? ' ' Ring the bell, sir.' ' There is no occasion to summon assistance while I am here, my dear general. I can attend you professionally, and if you will allow me, will soon relieve your pain. Your leg has swollen from exertion, and the bandages must be loosened.' He made no reply, but his features were distorted by extreme pain. I went to him and proceeded to unloose the bandages, which gave him considerable relief. I then replaced them, secundum artem, and with great tenderness, and going to the sideboard, took the lotion which was standing there with the other bottles, and wetted the bandages. In a few minutes he was quite relieved. 'Perhaps, sir,' said I, 'you had better try to sleep a little. I will take a book, and shall have great pleasure in watching by your side.' Exhausted with pain and violence, the general made no reply ; he fell back on the sofa, and, in a short time, he snored most comfortably. ' I have conquered you,' thought I, as I watched him as he lay asleep. ' If I have not yet, I will, that I am resolved.' I walked gently to the door, unlocked it, and opening it without waking him, ordered some broth to be brought up immediately, saying that the general was asleep, and that I would wait for it outside. I accomplished this little manoeuvre, and reclosed the door without waking 367 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER my father, and then I took my seat in the chair, and resumed my book, having placed the broth on the side of the fire grate to keep it warm. In about an hour he awoke, and looked around him. ' Do you want anything, my dearest father ? ' inquired I. The general appeared undecided as to whether to re- commence hostilities ; but at last he said, * I wish the attendance of my servants, sir.' ' The attendance of a servant can never be equal to that of your own son, general,' replied I, going to the fire, and taking the basin of broth, which I replaced upon the tray containing the et ceteras on a napkin. ' I expected you would require your broth, and I have had it ready for you.' ' It was what I did require, sir, I must acknowledge,' replied my father, and without further remark he finished the broth. I removed the tray, and then went for the lotion, and again wetted the bandages on his leg. ' Is there anything else I can do for you, sir ? ' said I. ' Nothing I am very comfortable. 3 ' Then, sir,' replied I, ' I will now take my leave. You have desired me to quit your presence for ever ; and you attempted force. I resisted that, because I would not allow you to have the painful remembrance that you had injured one who had strong claims upon you, and had never injured you. I resented it also, because I wished to prove to you that I was a De Benyon, and had spirit to resist an insult. But, general, if you imagine that I have come here with a determination of forcing myself upon you, you are much mistaken. I am too proud, and happily am independent by my own exertions, so as not to require your assistance. Had you received me kindly, believe me, you would have found a grateful and affectionate heart to have met that kindness. You would have found a son, whose sole object through life has been to discover a father, after whom he has yearned, who would have been delighted to have administered to his wants, to have yielded to his wishes, to have soothed him in his pain, and to have watched him in his sickness. Deserted as I have been for so many years, I trust that I have not disgraced you, General De Benyon ; and if ever I have done wrong, it has been from a wish to discover you. I can appeal 368 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER to Lord Windermear for the truth of that assertion. Allow me to say, that it is a very severe trial an ordeal which few pass through with safety to be thrown as I have been upon the world, with no friend, no parent to assist or to advise me, to have to bear up against the contingency of being of unacknowledged and perhaps disgraceful birth. It is harder still, when I expected to find my dearest wishes realised, that, without any other cause than that of my features resembling those of my mother, I am to be again cast away. One thing, General De Benyon, I request, and I trust it will not be denied, which is, that I may assume the name which I am entitled to. I pledge you that I never will disgrace it. And now, sir, asking and expecting no more, I take my leave, and you may be assured, that neither poverty, privation, nor affliction of any kind, will ever induce me to again intrude into your presence. General De Benyon, farewell for ever.' I made my father a profound bow, and was quitting the room. ' Stop, sir,' said the general. ' Stop one moment, if you please.' I obeyed. ' Why did you put me out of temper ? Answer me that.' ' Allow me to observe, sir, that I did not put you out of temper ; and what is more, that I never lost my own temper during the insult and injury which I so undeservedly and unexpectedly have received.' ' But that very keeping your temper made me more angry, sir.' * That is very possible ; but surely I was not to blame. The greatest proof of a perfect gentleman is, that he is able to command his temper, and I wished you to acknowledge that I was not without such pretensions.' ' That is as much as to say that your father is no gentle- man ; and this, I presume, is a specimen of your filial duty,' replied the general, warmly. ' Far from it, sir ; there are many gentlemen who, un- fortunately, cannot command their tempers, and are more to be pitied than blamed for it ; but, sir, when such happens to be the case, they invariably redeem their error, and amply so, by expressing their sorrow, and offering an apology.' ' That is as much as to say, that you expect me to apologise to you.' 2 B 369 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER 'Allow me, sir, to ask you, did you ever know a De Benyon submit to an insult ? ' ' No, sir, I trust not.' * Then, sir, those whose feelings of pride will not allow them to submit to an insult ought never to insult others. If, in the warmth of the moment, they have done so, that pride should immediately induce them to offer an apology, not only due to the party, but to their own characters. There is no disgrace in making an apology when we are in error, but there is a great disgrace in withholding such an act of common justice and reparation.' 4 1 presume I am to infer from all this, that you expect an apology from me ? ' ' General De Benyon, as far as I am concerned, that is now of little importance ; we part, and shall probably never meet again ; if you think that it would make you feel more comfortable, I am willing to receive it.' ' I must suppose by that observation, that you fully expect it, and otherwise will not stay ? ' ' I never had a thought of staying, general ; you have told me that you have disinherited and discarded me for ever ; no one with the feelings of a man would ever think of remaining after such a declaration.' ' Upon what terms, then, sir, am I to understand that you will consent to remain with me, and forget all that has passed?' ( My terms are simple, general ; you must say that you retract what you have said, and are very sorry for having insulted me.' ' And without I do that, you will never come here again ? ' ' Most decidedly not, sir. I shall always wish you well, pray for your happiness, be sorry at your death, and attend your funeral as chief mourner, although you disinherit me. That is my duty, in return for my having taken your name, and your having acknowledged that I am your son ; but live with you, or even see you occasionally, I will not, after what has passed this day, without you make me an apology.' ' I was not aware that it was necessary for a father to apologise to his son.' * If you wrong a stranger, you offer an apology ; how much more is it due to a near relation ? ' 370 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER c But a parent has claims upon his own son, sir, for which he is bound to tender his duty. 3 * I grant it, in the ordinary course of things in this life ; but, General De Benyon, what claims have you as a parent upon me ? A son in most cases is indebted to his parents for their care and attention in infancy his education his religious instruction his choice of a profession, and his advancement in life, by their exertions and interest ; and when they are called away, he has a reasonable expectation of their leaving him a portion of their substance. They have a heavy debt of gratitude to pay for what they have received, and they are further checked by the hopes of what they may here- after receive. Up to this time, sir, I have not received the first, and this day I am told that I need not expect the last. Allow me to ask you, General De Benyon, upon what grounds you claim from me a filial duty ? certainly not for benefits received, or for benefits in expectation ; but I feel that I am intruding, and therefore, sir, once more, with every wish for your happiness, I take my leave.' I went out, and had half closed the door after me, when the general cried out, ' Stop don't go Japhet my son I was in a passion I beg your pardon don't mind what I said I'm a passionate old fool.' As he uttered this in broken sentences, I returned to him. He held out his hand. ' Forgive, me, boy forgive your father.' I knelt down and kissed his hand ; he drew me towards him, and I wept upon his bosom. CHAPTER LXXV Father still dutifully submissive at home Abroad, I am splitting a straw in arguments with Susannah about straw bonnets The rest of the chapter contains coquetry, courting, and costumes. IT was some time before we were sufficiently composed to enter into conversation, and then I tried my utmost to please him. Still there was naturally a restraint on both sides, but I was so particular and devoted in my attentions, so careful of giving offence, that when he complained of weariness, and a JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER wish to retire, he stipulated that I should be with him to breakfast on the next morning. I hastened to Mr. Masterton, although it was late, to communicate to him all that had passed : he heard me with great interest. ' Japhet,' said he, ' you have done well it is the proudest day of your life. You have completely mastered him. The royal Bengal tiger is tamed. I wish you joy, my dear fellow. Now I trust that all will be well. But keep your own counsel ; do not let this be known at Reading. Let them still imagine that your father is as passionate as ever, which he will be, by the bye, with everybody else. You have still to follow up your success, and leave me to help you in other matters.' I returned home to the Piazza, and, thankful to Heaven for the events of the day, I soon fell fast asleep, and dreamt of Susannah Temple. The next morning I was early at the Adelphi Hotel ; my father had not yet risen, but the native servants who passed in and out, attending upon him, and who took care to give me a wide berth, had informed him that * Burra Saib's ' son was come, and he sent for me. His leg was very painful and uncomfortable, and the surgeon had not yet made his appearance. I arranged it as before, and he then dressed, and came out to breakfast. I had said nothing before the servants, but as soon as he was comfortable on the sofa, I took his hand, and kissed it, saying, ' Good morning, my dear father ; I hope you do not repent of your kindness to me yesterday.' * No, no ; God bless you, boy. I've been thinking of you all night.' ' All's right,' thought I ; ' and I trust to be able to keep it so.' I shall pass over a fortnight, during which I was in constant attendance upon my father. At times he would fly out in a most violent manner, but I invariably kept my temper, and when it was all over, would laugh at him, generally re- peating and acting all which he had said and done during his paroxysm. I found this rather dangerous ground at first, but by degrees he became used to it, and it was wonderful how it acted as a check upon him. He would not at first believe but that I exaggerated, when the picture was held up to his view and he was again calm. My father was not naturally a bad- 372 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER tempered man, but having been living among a servile race, and holding high command in the army, he had gradually acquired a habit of authority and an impatience of contra- diction which was unbearable to all around. Those who were high-spirited and sensitive shunned him ; the servile and the base continued with him for their own interests, but trembled at his wrath. I had during this time narrated to my father the events of my life, and, I am happy to say, had, by attention and kindness joined with firmness and good temper, acquired a dominion over him. I had at his request removed to the hotel, and lived with him altogether. His leg was rapidly arriving to a state of convalescence, and he now talked of taking a house and setting up his establishment in London. I had seen but little of Mr. Masterton during this time, as I had remained in-doors in attendance upon the general. I had written once to Mr. Cophagus, stating how I was occupied, but saying nothing about our reconciliation. One morning, Mr. Masterton called upon us, and after a little conversation with the general, he told me that he had persuaded Mr. Cophagus and his wife to leave Reading and come to London, and that Susannah Temple was to come with them. ' On a visit ?' inquired I. ' No, not on a visit. I have seen Cophagus, and he is determined to cut the Quakers, and reside in London alto- gether. 3 ' What ! does he intend to return to the pomps and vanities of this wicked world ? ' 'Yes, I believe so, and his wife will join him. She has no objection to decorate her pretty person.' 1 1 never thought that she had but Susannah Temple ' ' When Susannah is away from her friends, when she finds that her sister and brother-in-law no longer wear the dress, and when she is constantly in your company, to all which please to add the effect I trust of my serious admonitions, she will soon do as others do, or she is no woman. This is all my plan, and leave it to me only play your part by seeing as much of her as you can.' ' You need not fear that,' replied I. ' Does your father know of your attachment ? ' inquired Mr. Masterton. ' No, I passed her over without mentioning her name,' 373 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER replied I. ' It is too soon yet to talk to him about my marrying ; in fact, the proposal must, if possible, come from him. Could not you manage that ? ' * Yes, I will if I can ; but, as you say, wait awhile. Here is their address you must call to-morrow, if you can ; and do you think you can dine with me on Thursday ? ' ' Yes, if the general continues improving ; if not, I will send you word.' The next day I complained of a headache, and said, that I would walk out until dinner-time. I hastened to the address given me by Mr. Masterton, and found that Mr. Cophagus and his wife were out, but Susannah remained at home. After our first questions, I inquired of her how she liked London. ' I am almost afraid to say, Japhet, at least to you ; you would only laugh at me.' ' Not so, Susannah ; I never laugh when I know people are sincere.' ' It appears to me then to be a Vanity Fair.' 'That there is more vanity in London than in any other city, I grant,' replied I ; * but recollect, that there are more people and more wealth. I do not think that there is more in proportion than in other towns in England, and if there is more vanity, Susannah, recollect also that there is more industry, more talent, and I should hope a greater proportion of good and honest people among its multitudes ; there is also, unfortunately, more misery and more crime.' ' I believe you are right, Japhet. Are you aware that Mr. Cophagus has put off his plain attire ? ' * If it grieves you, Susannah, it grieves me also ; but I presume he finds it necessary not to be so remarkable.' * For him, I could find some excuse ; but what will you say, Japhet, when I tell you that my own sister, born and bred up to our tenets, hath also much deviated from the dress of the females of our sect ? ' ' In what hath she made an alteration ? ' ' She has a bonnet of plaited straw with ribands.' * Of what colour are the ribands ? ' ' Nay, of the same as her dress of grey.' * Your bonnet, Susannah, is of grey silk ; I do not see that there is vanity in descending to straw, which is a more homely commodity. But what reason has she given ? ' 374 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER ' That her husband wills it, as he does not like to walk out with her in her Quaker's dress.' 1 Is it not her duty to obey her husband, even as I obey my father, Susannah ? but I am not ashamed to walk out with you in your dress ; so if you have no objection, let me show you a part of this great city.' Susannah consented : we had often walked together in the town of Reading : she was evidently pleased at what I said. I soon escorted her to Oxford Street, from thence down Bond Street and through all the most frequented parts of the metropolis. The dress naturally drew upon her the casual glance of the passengers, but her extreme beauty turned the glance to an ardent gaze, and long before we had finished our intended walk, Susannah requested that I would go home. She was not only annoyed but almost alarmed at the constant and reiterated scrutiny which she underwent, ascribing it to her dress, and not to her lovely person. As soon as we returned I sat down with her. ' So I understand that Mr. Cophagus intends to reside altogether in London.' * I have not heard so ; I understood that it was business which called him hither for a few weeks. I trust not, for I shall be unhappy here.' * May I ask why ? ' 'The people are rude it is not agreeable to walk out.' ' Recollect, my dear Susannah, that those of your sect are not so plentiful in London as elsewhere, and if you wear a dress so different from other people, you must expect that curiosity will be excited. You cannot blame them it is you who make yourself conspicuous, almost saying to the people by your garment, " Come, and look at me." I have been reflecting upon what Mr. Masterton said to you at Reading, and I do not know whether he was not right in calling it a garb of pride instead of a garb of humility.' * If I thought so, Japhet, even I would throw it off,' replied Susannah. ' It certainly is not pleasant that every one should think that you walk out on purpose to be stared at, yet such is the ill-natured construction of the world, and they will never believe otherwise. It is possible, I should think, to dress 375 ' TJte dress naturally drew upon, her the casual glance of the passengers. JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER with equal simplicity and neatness, to avoid gay colours, and yet to dress so as not to excite observation.' ' I hardly know what to say, but that you all appear against me, and that sometimes I feel that I am too presumptuous in thus judging for myself.' ' I am not against you, Susannah ; I know you will do what you think is right, and I shall respect you for that, even if I disagree with you ; but I must say, that if my wife were to dress in such a way as to attract the public gaze, I should feel too jealous to approve of it. I do not, therefore, blame Mr. Cophagus for inducing his pretty wife to make some alteration in her attire, neither do I blame, but I commend her for obeying the wishes of her husband. Her beauty is his, and not common property.' Susannah did not reply : she appeared very thoughtful. * You disagree with me, Susannah,' said I, after a pause ; ' I am sorry for it.' ' I cannot say that I do, Japhet : I have learnt a lesson this day, and, in future, I must think more humbly of myself, and be more ruled by the opinions and judgment of others.' Mr. and Mrs. Cophagus then came in. Cophagus had resumed his medical coat and waistcoat, but not his pantaloons or Hessians : his wife, who had a very good taste in dress, would not allow him. She was in her grey silk gown, but wore a large handsome shawl, which covered all but the skirts : on her head she had a Leghorn bonnet, and certainly looked very pretty. As usual, she was all good-humour and smiles. I told them that we had been walking out, and that Susannah had been much annoyed by the staring of the people. 'Always so,' said Cophagus, 'never mind girls like it feel pleased and so on.' ' You wrong me much, brother Cophagus,' replied Susannah, ' it pained me exceedingly.' ' All very well to say so know better sly puss will wear dress people say, pretty Quaker and so on.' Susannah hastily left the room after this attack, and I told them what had passed. ' Mrs. Cophagus,' said I, ' order a bonnet and shawl like yours for her, without telling her, and, perhaps, you will per- suade her to put them on.' 377 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER Mrs. Cophagus thought the idea excellent and promised to procure them. Susannah not making her reappearance, I took leave, and arrived at the hotel in good time for dinner. * Japhet,' said the general to me as we were at table, ' you have mentioned Lord Windermear very often, have you called upon him lately ? ' 1 No, sir, it is now two years and more since I have seen him. When I was summoned to town to meet you, I was too much agitated to think of anything else, and since that I have had too much pleasure in your company.' ' Say rather, my good boy, that you have nursed me so carefully that you have neglected your friends and your health. Take my carriage to-morrow, and call upon him, and after that, you had better drive about a little, for you have been looking pale these last few days. I hope to get out myself in a short time, and then we will have plenty of amusement together in setting up our establishment.' CHAPTER LXXVI I renew old ties of friendship, and seek new ones of love Obliged to take my father to task once more He receives his lesson with proper obedience. I TOOK the carriage the next day, and drove to Lord Winder- mear's. He was at home, and I gave my name to the servant as Mr. De Benyon. It was the first time that I had made use of my own name. His lordship was alone when I entered. He bowed, as if not recognising me, and waved his hand to a chair. ' My lord, I have given my true name, and you treat me as a perfect stranger. I will mention my former name, and I trust you will honour me with a recognition. I was Japhet Newland.' * My dear Mr. Newland, you must accept my apology ; but it is so long since we met, and I did not expect to see you again.' * I thought, my lord, that Mr. Masterton had informed you of what had taken place.' 378 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER ' No ; I have just come from a visit to my sisters in West- moreland, and have received no letters from him.' ' I have, my lord, at last succeeded in finding out the object of my mad search, as you were truly pleased to call it, in the Honourable General De Benyon, lately arrived from the East Indies. 3 'Where his services are well known, 5 added his lordship. ' Mr. De Benyon, I congratulate you with all my heart. When you refused my offers of assistance, and left us all in that mad way, I certainly despaired of ever seeing you again. I am glad that you reappear under such fortunate auspices. Has your father any family ? ' 'None, my lord, but myself; and my mother died in the East Indies. 3 ' Then, I presume, from what I know at the Board of Con- trol, that you may now safely be introduced as a young gentleman of large fortune ; allow me, at least, to assist your father in placing you in your proper sphere in society. Where is your father ? 3 ' At present, my lord, he is staying at the Adelphi Hotel, confined to his room by an accident ; but I trust that in a few days he will be able to come out. 3 ' Will you offer my congratulations to him, and tell him, that if he will allow me, I will have the honour of paying my respects to him. Will you dine with me on Monday next ? 3 I returned my thanks, accepted the invitation, and took my leave, his lordship saying, as he shook hands with me, ' You don't know how happy this intelligence has made me. I trust that your father and I shall be good friends. 3 When I returned to the carriage, as my father had desired me to take an airing, I thought I might as well have a com- panion, so I directed them to drive to Mr. Cophagus's. The servant knocked, and I went in as soon as the door was opened. Susannah and Mrs. Cophagus were sitting in the room. ' Susannah,' said I, ' I know you do not like to walk out, so I thought, perhaps, you would have no objection to take an airing in the carriage : my father has lent it to me. Will you come ? it will do you good. 3 ' It is very kind of you, Japhet, to think of me ; but ' ' But what ? ' replied Mrs. Cophagus. ' Surely thou wilt 379 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER not refuse, Susannah. It would savour much of ingratitude on thy part.' ' I will not then be ungrateful,' replied Susannah, leaving the room ; and in a short time she returned in a Leghorn bonnet and shawl like her sister's. * Do not I prove that I am not ungrateful, Japhet, since to do credit to thy carriage, I am content to depart from the rules of our persuasion ? ' said Susannah, smiling. * I feel the kindness and the sacrifice you are making to please me, Susannah,' replied I ; ' but let us lose no time.' I handed her down to the carriage, and we drove to the Park. It was a beautiful day, and the Park was filled with pedestrians as well as carriages. Susannah was much astonished, as well as pleased. ' Now, Susannah,' said I, ' if you were to call this Vanity Fair, you would not be far wrong ; but still, recollect that even all this is productive of much good. Reflect how many industrious people find employment and provision for their families by the building of these gay vehicles, their painting and ornamenting. How many are employed at the loom, and at the needle, in making these costly dresses. This vanity is the cause of wealth not being hoarded, but finding its way through various channels, so as to produce comfort and happiness to thousands.' ' Your observations are just, Japhet, but you have lived in the world, and seen much of it. I am as one just burst from an egg-shell, all amazement. I have been living in a little world of my own thoughts, surrounded by a mist of ignorance, and not being able to penetrate farther, have considered myself wise when I was not.' ' My dear Susannah, this is a checkered world, but not a very bad one there is in it much of good as well as evil. The sect to which you belong avoid it they know it not and they are unjust towards it. During the time that I lived at Reading, I will candidly state to you that I met with many who called themselves of the persuasion, who were wholly unworthy of it, but they made up in outward appearance and hypocrisy what they wanted in their conduct to their fellow- creatures. Believe me, Susannah, there are pious and good, charitable and humane, conscientious and strictly honourable people among those who now pass before your view in such gay procession ; but society requires that the rich should spend 380 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER their money in superfluities, that the poor may be supported. Be not deceived, therefore, in future, by the outward garments, which avail nothing.' ' You have induced me much to alter my opinions already, Japhet ; so has that pleasant friend of thine, Mr. Masterton, who has twice called since we have been in London ; but is it not time that we should return ? ' * It is indeed later than I thought it was, Susannah,' replied I, looking at my watch, ' and I am afraid that my father will be impatient for my return. I will order them to drive home.' As we drove along, leaning against the back of the carriage, my hand happened to touch that of Susannah, which lay beside her on the cushion ; I could not resist taking it in mine, and it was not withdrawn. What my thoughts were, the reader may imagine : Susannah's I cannot acquaint him with ; but in that position we remained in silence until the carriage stopped at Cophagus's door. I handed Susannah out of the carriage, and went upstairs for a few moments. Mrs. Cophagus and her husband were out. 1 Susannah, this is very kind of you, and I return you my thanks. I never felt more happy than when seated with you in that carriage.' ' I have received both amusement and instruction, Japhet, and ought to thank you. Do you know what passed in my mind at one time ? ' < No tell me.' 'When I first knew you, and you came among us, I was, as it were, the guide, a presumptuous one perhaps to you, and you listened to me ; now it is reversed now that we are removed and in the world, it is you that are the guide, and it is I who listen and obey.' c Because, Susannah, when we first met I was much in error, and had thought too little of serious things, and you were fit to be my guide ; now we are mixing in the world, with which I am better acquainted than yourself. You then corrected me, when I was wrong : I now point out to you where you are not rightly informed : but, Susannah, what you have learnt of me is as nought compared with the valuable precepts which I gained from your lips precepts which, I trust, no collision with the world will ever make me forget.' JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER * Oh ! I love to hear you say that ; I was fearful that the world would spoil you, Japhet ; but it will not will it ? ' ' Not so long as I have you still with me, Susannah : but if I am obliged to mix again with the world, tell me, We -were in each others arms.' Susannah, will you reject me ? will you desert me ? will you return to your own people and leave me so exposed ? Susannah, dearest, you must know how long, how dearly I have loved you : you know that, if I had not been sent for and obliged to obey the message, I would have lived and 382 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER died content with you. Will you not listen to me now, or do you reject me ? ' I put my arm round her waist, her head fell upon my shoulder, and she burst into tears. * Speak, dearest, this suspense is torture to me,' continued I. ' I do love you, Japhet,' replied she at last, looking fondly at me through her tears ; ' but I know not whether this earthly love may not have weakened my affection to- wards Heaven. If so, may God pardon me, for I cannot help it.' After this avowal, for a few minutes, which appeared seconds, we were in each other's arms, when Susannah dis- engaged herself. * Dearest Japhet, thy father will be much displeased.' ' I cannot help it,' replied I 'I shall submit to his displeasure.' ' Nay, but, Japhet, why risk thy father's wrath ? ' ' Well, then,' replied I, attempting to reach her lips, * I will go.' 'Nay, nay indeed, Japhet, you exact too much it is not seemly.' ' Then I won't go.' 1 Recollect about thy father.' ' It is you who detain me, Susannah.' ' I must not injure thee with thy father, Japhet, it were no proof of my affection but, indeed, you are self- willed.' ' God bless you, Susannah,' said I, as I gained the contested point, and hastened to the carriage. My father was a little out of humour when I returned, and questioned me rather sharply as to where I had been. I half pacified him by delivering Lord Windermear's polite message ; but he continued his interrogations : and although I had pointed out to him that a De Benyon would never be guilty of an untruth, I am afraid I told some half-dozen on this occasion ; but I consoled myself with the reflection, that, in the code of honour of a fashionable man, he is bound, if necessary, to tell falsehoods where a lady is con- cerned ; so I said I had driven through the streets looking at the houses, and had twice stopped and had gone in to examine them. My father supposed that I had been looking out for a house for him, and was satisfied. Fortunately they 383 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER were job horses ; had they been his own I should have been in a severe scrape. Horses are the only part of an establishment for which the gentlemen have any considera- tion, and on which ladies have no mercy. I had promised the next day to dine with Mr. Masterton. My father had taken a great aversion to this old gentleman until I had narrated the events of my life, in which he had played such a conspicuous and friendly part. Then, to do my father justice, his heart warmed towards him. ' My dear sir, I have promised to dine out to-day. 3 ' With whom, Japhet ? ' ' Why, sir, to tell you the truth, with that " old thief of a lawyer." ' ' I am very much shocked at your using such an expression towards one who has been such a sincere friend, Japhet ; and you will oblige me, sir, by not doing so again in my presence.' ' I really beg your pardon, general,' replied I, * but I thought to please you.' ' Please me ! what do you think of me ? please me, sir, by showing yourself ungrateful ! I am ashamed of you, sir.' ' My dear father, I borrowed the expression from you. You called Mr. Masterton " an old thief of a lawyer " to his face : he complained to me of the language before I had the pleasure of meeting you. I feel, and always shall feel, the highest respect, love, and gratitude towards him. Have I your permission to go ? ' * Yes, Japhet,' replied my father, looking very grave, ' and do me the favour to apologise for me to Mr. Masterton for my having used such an expression in my unfortunate warmth of temper I am ashamed of myself.' ' My dearest father, no man need be ashamed who is so ready to make honourable reparation: we are all a little out of temper at times.' 'You have been a kind friend to me, Japhet, as well as a good son,' replied my father, with some emotion. * Don't forget the apology at all events : I shall be unhappy until it be made.' 384 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER CHAPTER LXXVII Treats of apologies, and love coming from church We finesse with the nabob to win me a wife I am successful in my suit, yet the lawyer is still to play the cards to enable me to win the game. I ARRIVED at Mr. Masterton's and walked into his room, when whom should I find in company with him but Harcourt. ' Japhet, I'm glad to see you ; allow me to introduce you to Mr. Harcourt Mr. De Benyon,' and the old gentleman grinned maliciously, but I was not to be taken aback. ' Harcourt,' said I, extending my hand, ' I have to apologise to you for a rude reception and for unjust suspicions, but I was vexed at the time if you will admit that as an excuse.' ' My dear Japhet,' replied Harcourt, taking my hand and shaking it warmly, ' I have to apologise to you for much more unworthy behaviour, and it will be a great relief to my mind if you will once more enrol me in the list of your friends.' 'And now, Mr. Masterton,' said I, 'as apologies appear to be the order of the day, I bring you one from the general, who has requested me to make one to you for having called you " an old thief of a lawyer," of which he was totally ignorant until I reminded him of it to-day.' Harcourt burst into a laugh. ' Well, Japhet, you may tell your old tiger, that I did not feel particularly affronted, as I took his expression profession- ally and not personally, and if he meant it in that sense, he was not far wrong. Japhet, to-morrow is Sunday ; do you go to meeting or to church ? ' ' I believe, sir, that I shall go to church.' ' Well, then, come with me : be here at half-past two we will go to evening service at St. James's.' ' I have received many invitations, but I never yet received an invitation to go to church,' replied I. ' You will hear an extra lesson of the day a portion of Susannah and the Elders.' I took the equivoque, which was incomprehensible to Har- 2 c 385 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER court : I hardly need say, that the latter and I were on the best terms. When we separated, Harcourt requested leave to call upon me the next morning, and Mr. Masterton said that he should also pay his respects to the tiger, as he invariably called my most honoured parent. Harcourt was with me very soon after breakfast ; and after I had introduced him to my * Governor,' we retired to talk without interruption. ' I have much to say to you, De Benyon,' commenced Harcourt : ' first let me tell you, that after I rose from my bed, and discovered that you had disappeared, I resolved, if possible, to find you out and induce you to come back. Timothy, who looked very sly at me, would tell me nothing, but that the last that was heard of you was at Lady de Clare's at Richmond. Having no other clue, I went down there, in- troduced myself, and, as they will tell you, candidly acknow- ledged that I had treated you ill. I then requested that they would give me any clue by which you might be found, for I had an opportunity of offering to you a situation which was at my father's disposal, and which any gentleman might have accepted, although it was not very lucrative.' ' It was very kind of you, Harcourt.' ' Do not say that, I beg. It was thus that I formed an acquaintance with Lady de Clare and her daughter, whose early history, as Fleta, I had obtained from you, but who I little imagined to be the little girl that you had so generously protected ; for it was not until after I had deserted you, that you had discovered her parentage. The extreme interest relative to you evinced by both the mother and the daughter surprised me. They had heard of my name from you, but not of our quarrel. They urged me, and thanked me for propos- ing to follow you and find you out : I did make every attempt. I went to Brentford, inquired at all the public-houses, and of all the coachmen who went down the road, but could obtain no information, except that at one public-house a gentleman stopped with a portmanteau, and soon afterwards went away with it on his shoulders. I returned to Richmond with the tidings of my ill-success about a week after I had first called there. Cecilia was much affected, and cried very bitterly. I could not help asking Lady de Clare why she took such a strong interest in your fortunes. " Who ought," replied Cecilia, 386 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER " if his poor Fleta does not ?" " Good heavens ! Miss de Clare, are you the little Fleta whom he found with the gipsies, and talked to me so much about ?" " Did you not know it ?" said Lady de Clare. I then explained to her all that had latterly passed between us, and they in return communicated your events and dangers in Ireland. Thus was an intimacy formed, and ever since I have been constantly welcome at their house. I did not, however, abandon my inquiries for many months, when I thought it was useless, and I had to console poor Cecilia, who constantly mourned for you. And now, Japhet, I must make my story short : I could not help admiring a young person who showed so much attachment and gratitude joined to such personal attractions ; but she was an heiress, and I was a younger brother. Still Lady de Clare insisted upon my coming to the house ; and I was undecided how to act, when the unfortunate death of my elder brother put me in a situation to aspire to her hand. After that my visits were more frequent ; and I was tacitly received as a suitor by Lady de Clare, and had no reason to complain of the treatment I received from Cecilia. Such was the position of affairs until the day on which you broke in upon us so unexpectedly ; and at the very moment that you came in, I had, with the sanction of her mother, made an offer to Cecilia, and was anxiously awaiting an answer from her own dear lips. Can you, there- fore, be surprised, Japhet, at there being a degree of constraint on all sides at the interruption occasioned by the presence of one who had long been considered lost to us ? Or that a young person just deciding upon the most important step of her life should feel confused and agitated at the entrance of a third party, however dear he might be to her as a brother and benefactor ? J * I am perfectly satisfied, Harcourt,' replied I ; ' and I will go there, and make my peace as soon as I can.' ' Indeed, Japhet, if you knew the distress of Cecilia, you would pity and love her more than ever. Her mother is also much annoyed. As soon as you were gone, they desired me to hasten after you and bring you back. Cecilia had not yet given her answer : I requested it before my departure ; but, I presume to stimulate me, she declared that she would give me no answer until I reappeared with you. This is now three weeks ago, and I have not dared to go there. I have been 387 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER trying all I can to see you again since you repulsed me at the Piazza, but without success, until I went to Mr. Masterton, and begged him to procure me an interview. I thank God it has succeeded.' ' Well, Harcourt, you shall see Cecilia to-morrow morning, if you please.' ' Japhet, what obligations I am under to you ! Had it not been for you I never should have known Cecilia ; and more, were it not for your kindness, I might perhaps lose her for ever.' ' Not so, Harcourt ; it was your own good feeling prompt- ing you to find me out, which introduced you to Cecilia, and I wish you joy with all my heart. This is a strange world who would have imagined that, in little Fleta, I was picking up a wife for a man whose life I nearly took away ? I will ask my " Governor " for his carriage to-morrow, and will call and take you up at your lodgings at two o'clock, if that hour will suit you. I will tell you all that has passed since I absconded, when we are at Lady de Clare's : one story will do for all.' Harcourt then took his leave, and I returned to my father, with whom I found Lord Windermear. ' De Benyon, I am happy to see you again,' said his lord- ship. ' I have just been giving a very good character of you to the general ; I hope you will continue to deserve it.' ' I hope so too, my lord ; I should be ungrateful, indeed, if I did not, after my father's kindness to me.' Mr. Masterton was then introduced : Lord Windermear shook hands with him, and after a short conversation took his leave. ' Japhet,' said Mr. Masterton aside, ' I have a little busi- ness with your father ; get out of the room any way you think best.' ' There are but two ways, my dear sir,' replied I, ' the door or the windows : with your permission, I will select the former, as most agreeable' ; so saying, I went to my own room. What passed between the general and Mr. Masterton I did not know until afterwards, but they were closeted upwards of an hour, when I was sent for by Mr. Masterton. ' Japhet, you said you would go with me to hear the new preacher ; we have no time to lose : so, general, I shall take my leave and run away with your son.' 388 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER I followed Mr. Masterton into his carriage, and we drove to the lodging of Mr. Cophagus. Susannah was all ready, and Mr. Masterton went upstairs and brought her down. A blush and a sweet smile illumined her features when she perceived me stowed away in the corner of the chariot. We drove off, and somehow or another our hands again met, and did not separate until we arrived at the church door. Susannah had the same dress on as when she had accom- panied me in my father's carriage. I went through the responses with her, reading out of the same book, and I never felt more inclined to be devout, for I was happy, and grateful to Heaven for my happiness. When the service was over, we were about to enter the carriage, when who should accost us but Harcourt. ' You are surprised to see me here,' said he to Mr. Masterton ; ' but I thought there must be something very attractive, that you should make an appointment with Japhet to go to this church, and as I am very fond of a good sermon, I determined to come and hear it.' Harcourt's ironical look told me all he would say. ' Well,' replied Mr. Masterton, c I hope you have been edified now get out of the way, and let us go into the carriage.' 'To-morrow at two, De Benyon,' said Harcourt, taking another peep at Susannah. 'Yes, punctually,' replied I, as the carriage drove off. ' And now, my dear child,' said Mr. Masterton to Susannah, as the carriage rolled along, ' tell me, have you been dis- appointed, or do you agree with me ? You have attended a meeting of your own persuasion this morning you have now, for the first time, listened to the ritual of the Established Church. To which do you give the preference ? ' ' I will not deny, sir, that I think, in departing from the forms of worship, those of my persuasion did not do wisely. I would not venture thus much to say, but you support me in my judgment.' ' You have answered like a good, sensible girl, and have proved that you can think for yourself; but observe, my child, I have persuaded you for once, and once only, to enter our place of worship, that you might compare and judge for your- self ; it now remains for you to decide as you please.' 389 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER ' I would that some better qualified would decide for me, 5 replied Susannah, gravely. 'Your husband, Susannah,' whispered I, 'must take that responsibility upon himself. Is he not the proper person ?' Susannah slightly pressed my hand, which held hers, and said nothing. As soon as we had conveyed her home, Mr. Masterton offered to do me the same kindness, which I accepted. 'Now, Japhet, I daresay that you would like to know what it was I had so particular to say to the old general this morning.' ' Of course I would, sir, if it concerned me.' ' It did concern you, for we had not been two minutes in conversation before you were brought on the tapis : he spoke of you with tears in his eyes of what a comfort you had been to him, and how happy you had made him ; and that he could not bear you to be away from him for half an hour. On that hint I spake, and observed, that he must not expect you to continue in retirement long, neither must he blame you, that when he had set up his establishment, you would be as great a favourite as you were before, and be unable, without giving offence, to refuse the numerous invitations which you would receive. In short, that it was nothing but right you should resume your position in society, and it was his duty to submit to it. The old " Governor " did not appear to like my observations, and said he expected otherwise from you. I replied, " that it was impossible to change our natures ; and the other sex would naturally have attractions which you would not be able to resist, and that they would occupy a large portion of your time. The only way to insure his company, my dear sir, is marry him to a steady, amiable young woman, who, not having been thrown into the vortex of fashion, will find pleasure in domestic life. Then her husband will become equally domestic, and you will be all very happy together." Your father agreed with me, and appeared very anxious that it should take place. I then very carefully intro- duced Miss Temple, saying that I knew you had a slight partiality in that quarter, highly commending her beauty, prudence, etc. I stated, that feeling an interest about you, I had gone down into the country where she resided, and had made her acquaintance, and had been much pleased with her ; 390 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER that since she had come up to town with her relations, I had seen a great deal, and had formed so high an opinion of, and so strong an attachment to her, and had felt so convinced that she was the very person who would make you happy and domestic, that having no family myself, I had some idea of adopting her. At all events, that if she married you I was determined to give her 'something very handsome on the day of the wedding.' * But, my dear sir, why should you not have said that Susannah Temple was left an orphan at seven years old, and her fortune has accumulated ever since ? It is by no means despicable, I understand, from Mr. Cophagus ; and, moreover, Mr. Cophagus intends to leave her all his property.' ' I am very glad to hear it, Japhet, and will not fail to communicate all this to your father ; but there is no reason why I may not do as I please with my own money and I love that girl dearly. By the bye, have you ever said anything to her ? ' * Oh yes, sir, we are pledged to each other.' ' That's all right : I thought so, when I saw your fingers tooked together in the carriage. But now, Japhet, I should recommend a little indifference not exactly opposition, when your father proposes the subject to you. It will make him more anxious, and when you consent, more obliged to you. I have promised to call upon him to-morrow, on that and other business, and you had better be out of the way.' ' I shall be out of the way, sir : I mean to go with Harcourt to Lady de Clare's. I shall ask for the carriage.' ' He will certainly lend it to you, as he wishes to get rid of you ; but here we are. God bless you, my boy.' CHAPTER LXXVIII The Bengal tiger taken in the toils, which promises a speedy end to mine I kindly permit my father to insist upon the marriage that I have set my heart upon. I FOUND my father, who had now completely recovered from his accident, walking up and down the room in a brown study. 391 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER He did not speak to me until after dinner, when he commenced with asking some question relative to Cecilia de Clare. I replied, ' that I intended, if he did not want the carriage, to call there to-morrow with Mr. Harcourt. 3 1 Is she very handsome ? ' inquired he. ' Very much so, sir. I do not think I ever saw a handsomer young person. Yes, I do recollect one.' * Who was that ? ' 'A young lady with whom I was slightly acquainted, when living in the country. 3 * I have been thinking, my dear boy, that with the compe- tence which you will have, it is right that you should marry early : in so doing you will oblige your father, who is anxious to see his grandchildren before he dies. My health is not very good. 3 I could not help smiling at this pathetic touch of the old ' Governors, 3 who, if one could judge from appearances, was as strong as a lion, and likely to last almost as long as his dutiful son. Moreover, his appetite was enormous, and h* invariably finished his bottle every day. I did not, therefore, feel any serious alarm as to his health ; but I nevertheless replied, ' Matrimony is a subject upon which I have never thought 3 (a hem ! a De Benyon never tells an untruth ! 4 1 am very young yet, and am too happy to remain with you.' ' But, my dear boy, I propose that you shall remain with me we will all live together. I do not intend that we shall part. I really wish, Japhet, you would think seriously of it.' ' My dear father, allow me to observe, that at present I am not in a situation to support a wife, and I should be sorry to be a tax upon you, at your age : you require many comforts and luxuries, and I presume that you live up to your income. 3 ' Then, my dear fellow, you are under a great mistake. I can lay down one hundred thousand pounds on the day of your marriage, with any lady whom I approve of, and still not spend half my remaining income.' ' That, sir, 3 replied I, ' certainly removes one difficulty, at the same time that it proves what a generous and indulgent father I am blessed with ; but, sir, with such a fortune, I have a right to expect that the lady will also bring a handsome addition. Miss De Clare is engaged, I believe, to Mr. 39 2 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER Harcourt, or I might have made strong interest in that quarter.' ' Something, my dear boy ; but a moderate fortune now-a- days is all that we expect with wives, and the best wives are those who are not born to too much wealth ; still she should bring something ; but tell me, Japhet, who is that young lady whom you thought handsomer than Miss De Clare ?' ' A Miss Temple, sir.' ' Temple it is a very good name. I think girls brought up in the country make the best wives.' ' They do, sir, most certainly : they are more domestic, and make their husbands more content and happy at home.' 'Well, my dear boy, I have mentioned the subject, and wish you would think of it. You will please me much.' ' My dear father, I shall be most happy to obey in every- thing else, but in so serious a point as uniting myself for life, I think you must allow that a little discretionary power should be given to a son. All I can say is this, show me a young person who is eligible, and if I find that I can love her, I will not refuse to obey your wishes.' 'Well, sir, do as you please,' replied my father, very angrily ; ' but I think, sir, when I desire you to fall in love it is your duty to obey.' ' Suppose I was to fall in love with a person you did not like, would you allow me to marry her ? ' ' Most certainly not, sir.' ' Then, sir, is it reasonable to expect me to marry without being in love ? ' ' I did not marry for love, sir.' ' No,' replied I, forgetting myself a little ; ' and a pretty mess you made of it.' ' I did,' rejoined my father in a rage, ' by begetting an undutiful, good-for-nothing, graceless, insolent, ungrateful son.' ' My dear father, I was not aware that I had a brother.' ' I mean you, sir.' ' To prove to you how unjust you are, sir, and how little I deserve what you have called me, I now promise you to marry as soon as you wish.' ' Thank you, my boy, that's kind of you ; but I will say that you are a comfort and a treasure to me, and I bless the day that brought you to my arms. Well, then, look about you,' 393 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER ' No, sir, I leave it all to you ; select the party, and I am willing to obey you.' ' My dear boy ! Well, then, I'll talk the matter over with Mr. Masterton to-morrow,' and the general shook me warmly by the hand. The next day I picked up Harcourt, and proceeded to Park Street. A note from him had informed them of our intended visit, and other visitors had been denied. * All has been explained, Cecilia,' said I, after the first greeting : * I was very wrong, and very foolish.' ' And made me very miserable. I little thought that you, Japhet, would have made me cry so much ; but I forgive you for it, as I would a thousand times as much more. Now sit down and tell us all that has happened since you left us.' ' Not yet, my dear Cecilia. You, as well as I, owe a reparation to poor Harcourt, whom, I think, you have treated cruelly. You were about to answer a question of vital moment when I broke in upon you, and you have since kept him in a state of cruel suspense for more than three weeks, refusing him an answer until he brought me into your presence. An hour of such suspense must be dreadful, and before we sit down, I wish every one should feel comfortable and happy.' ' It was not altogether to stimulate Mr. Harcourt to bring you back, which induced me to refuse to answer his question, Japhet. I considered that your return had rendered it necessary that it should be deferred until I saw you. I have not forgotten, Japhet, and never forget, what I was when you rescued me ; and when I think what I might have been had you not saved me, I shudder at the bare idea. I have not forgotten how you risked, and nearly lost your life in Ireland for my sake neither has my mother. We are beholden to you for all our present happiness, and I am eternally indebted to you for rescuing me from ignorance, poverty, and perhaps vice. You have been more, much more, than a father to me more, much more, than a brother. I am, as it were, a creature of your own fashioning, and I owe to you that which I never can repay. When, then, you returned so unexpectedly, Japhet, I felt that you had a paramount right in my disposal, and I was glad that I had not replied to Mr. Harcourt, as I wished first for your sanction and approval. I know all that has passed between you, but I know not your real feelings 394 JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER towards Mr. Harcourt : he acknowledges that he treated you very ill, and it was his sincere repentance of having so done, and his praise of you, which first won my favour. And now, Japhet, if you have still animosity against Mr. Harcourt if you ' ' Stop, my dear Fleta, I will answer all your questions at once. 3 I took Harcourt's hand, and placed it in hers. * May God bless you both, and may you be happy ! ' Cecilia threw her arms round me and wept ; so did every- body else, I believe. It was lucky for Harcourt that I was in love with Susannah Temple. As soon as Cecilia had recovered a little, I kissed her, and passed her over to her right owner, who led her to the sofa. Lady de Clare and I went out of the room on important business, and did not return for a quarter of an hour. When we returned, Cecilia went to her mother and embraced her, while Harcourt silently squeezed my hand. We then all sat down, and I gave them an account of all that had passed during my second excursion how I had nearly been hanged how I had gone mad how I had turned Quaker and apothecary which they all agreed, with what had happened to me before, made up a very eventful history. * And, Japhet, if it be a fair question about one so fair, was that Miss Temple who was at church with you yesterday ? ' * It was.' 'Then, Cecilia, if ever she appears in the same circle, except in my eyes, your beauty will stand in some danger of being eclipsed.' * How can you say except in your eyes, Mr. Harcourt,' replied Cecilia, ' the very observation proves that it is eclipsed in your eyes, whatever it may be in those of others. Now, as a punishment, I have a great mind to order you away again, until you bring her face to face, that I may judge myself.' * If I am again banished,' replied Harcourt, ' I shall have a second time to appeal to De Benyon to be able to come back again. He can produce her, I have no doubt.' * And perhaps may, some of these days, Cecilia.'