v .\> k^ " />, ' LI B RARY OF THL U N 1 V L R S I T Y or ILLINOIS 823 Cl78b BEAUFORD OB, A PICTURE OJ HIGH LIFE, VOL, I. BEAVFORD OR, A PICTURE • V HIGH LIFE. BY HENRY CARD, M.A. OF PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD, His years but young, but his experience old. His head unraellow'd, but his judgment ripe. And, in a word, (for far behind his worth Come all the praises that I row bestow,) He is complete in feature, and in mind With all good grace to grace a gentleman. Shakspeare. IN TWO VOLUMES. J VOL. I. LONDON : Printed for f. c. and j. rivixgton, NO. 62, ST. Paul's cfiurch-yard ; My Laic and Cilbert, St. Johis-Sqxiare, ClerkenvcelL 1811. »J) '-0 CJ? V. \ TO HENRY DAVID ERSKINE, ESQ-^ 1) 3IV DEAR SIR3 YOU may remember Uie ; conversation which passed between us '^ last autumn on Novel-writing, when I I I hinted to you my intention of employing ^ my pen in a work of moral hction; and f how much we both lamented, that those % leading minds which guide the taste of o^ a Nation, had not invented some ^ene- ^ ral name, that would prevent us from any longer confounding productions, which VI which afford rational pleasure, even to the wiser and better part of the w^orld. With the nauseous trash, daily is-suing from the press to mislead the ignorant, and to seduce the fanciful. For, until such a desirable distinction be adopted, the prejudices against novel-reading must be allowed to bear a near resem- blance to reason* But, should I ven- ture, consistently with the spirit of this remark, to style my performance a phi- losophical romance y the very name, I am afraid, would deter a numerous class of persons from opening the book, while on the other hand, the critic might think that such a title was compatible only with the graver forms of compo- sition. If, however, the contents of these Volumes obtain the approbation of one, who is not less distinguished by the vU the hereditary genius of his family, than by his own taste and good judgment, I shall not be much disturbed by receiving the appellation of a Novel-writer. Allow me, then, to inscribe the fol- lowing sheets to your name, as it is a most sensible pleasure to me to liave this opportunity of publicly assuring you, with what sentiments of real esteem and respect, I remain. My dear Sir, . Your most obliged. And most obedient Servant, HENRY CARD, Chapel Hilly near Margate, October^ 1811. BEAU FORD, &c. CHAPTER I. Indications of future Excelknce* That there are ruling passions, which, though they produce no great acts of villany, and hurry us into no atrocious crimes, yet make the draught of life sweet or bitter by imperceptible distillations, is one of thofe positions, which will be readily admitted by every accurate observer of human life. Nor vriW it be less disputed, that our curiosity may be equally aroused, and our sympathy excited in the strongest decree, for charac- tcrs which only inspire us with sentiments of VOL. !• B love 2 BEAUFORD. love and approbation, as for thole, which awaken in us impressions of the deepest awe and veneration "Whoever, therefore, shall open this volume, in the expectatk>n of find- ing any of thofe enormous misdeeds which spring from great revenge, or diabolical hatred, exposed under all their aspects of pro- gress and maturity, will be completely disap- pointed. And it is but fair, likewise, to advise that sort of Readers, whose admiration is only to be seized, and affections caught by the exliibition of perfect characters, to overlook these pages ; since in them will be found no persons absolutely good or bad : none which can be recognized unlike our- selves. Let not those therefore who prefer viewiniy such fantastic representations as have no archetypes in nature to the eventful life of a young man of genius and virtue, sit down to peruse the story of Beauford. The father of the subject of this narrative was an officer, who lost his life in one of those unwholesome stations abroad, ^^ here courage is unavailing, and enterprize impracticable. Deprived BEAUFOTTD. S Bcprived of the husband of her choice, to nhom her whole soul was devoted, Mrs. Beauford soon sunk into that dry silent despair, from which the skill of her physicians, and the assiduous tenderness of a few parti- cular friends, could afford her no relief. Find- ing her dissolution rapidly approaching, she addressed a letter to her brother, in which she recommended, in the most pathetic terms, her children to his care and protection, and gently breathed out her last, a few months after the fatal intelligence of Captain Beay- ford's death had been received. There were few characters, perhaps, which furnished better materials for an eulogiunj than Mr. Colebrooke, the brother of Mrs. Beauford. His father had held a lucrative post under government; but being a jovial companion, and much addicted to dissipation, never thought of husbanding his pecuniary resources for the sake of his son and daughter- The former was now entering into his forty- third year, and his love of celibacy had neither soured his temper, nor affected him with any B 2 of 4 B£AUrORD. of those odd humours or inveterate prejudicc5 so incidental to bachelors of a certain period of life. He had received a classical educa- tion, and his early years were passed in qua- lifying himself for the study of the law. But^ having unexpectedly been left a considerable annuity by a distant relation, he determined to indul2;e his inclination of visitins the Con- tinent. There he remained for several years ; dividinf]^ his time between the ^ay world, and that kind of society which contributed to en- large his understanding, Avhile it improved his taste. Those who figure to themselves the character of a philosopher, ^^ ould paint him with some of the features which may be justly ascribed to the character of i\fr. Colebrooke ; an ardent desire of knowledsjc, toiiethcr with those habits of reflection: which suffered no- thing to escape its vigilance ;. no extraordi- nary respect for the authority of great names, an indisposition to tiiosc inquiries which turn off attention from life to nature ; an unbend- ing firmness upon important occasions, but an inaptitude to bustle in tritling^ mat- tersv 9 BEAUFORD. 5 tcrs, Avith a benevolent and independent spirit The alarmincr state of his sister's health had determined him to leave his favourite re- treat which he styled the herniitage, a small gothic structure in the most beautiful part of Cheshire, with the hopes of prevailing upon her to make a short excursion to Alont- pelier ; but a violent fit of the gout prevented his design. He had just recovered from his attack, when he received her letter. Struck to the heart at its contents, he travelled night and day till he had reached the place where she expired. He had the melancholy satisfaction of arriving in time to pay the last solemn duties of respect to her memory, and of bringing her sorrowing children to the Hermitage. For they were then old enough to feel, although they could not fully appreciate the loss of an affectionate mother ; Charles being in his twelfth, and Louisa ia the tenth year of her age. The iiappiness of our infant days has been celebrated by poetis of all countries ; but here they may be wisely passed O BEAUFORD. passed over for those more interesting scenes 'which displdy the ripened powers ot tlie mind. In his nineteenth year, Charles Beauf(^rd, to the natural advantages of a person and countenance at once engaging and handsome, a voice lull and harmonous, an eye which darted rather than looked benevolence, and an uncommon share of manly sensibilitv, added the acquired excellencies of various and extensive learning; and an eloquence so commanding and touching, that it seemed to be the pure instinct of good taste. There was sometiiing besides so graceful and pre- possessing iu his manners, that they appeared to be capable of securing to him a ready passport into every society. His sister, in tiie bloom of seventeen, was liighly fascinating, without being beautifid. Her snjile alone would have given interest to the most simple language, but when united to a remarkably polished mind, few, could present attractiorui jnore povverlul to a man of sentiment. Mr. ^glebrooke had indeed spared no pains to ren- der liEAUFORD. '-7 '"der her a woman of intellectual acquirements cLS well as of accomplishments. For he did not belong to that class of reasoners who profess to think,- that women should have a different and inferior education to the lords of the creation, under the belief that they do not possess equal faculties. Nor could he be made to comprehend why a female should not be able to take her share in solid useful conversation, and yet at the same time be free from pedantry, elegant in her address, and a proficient in dancing, drawing, and music. The cultivation of her mind there- foie was as great an object of his attention as her improvement in the fine arts, when she accompanied him to London for the sake of her brother's obtaining the best mas- ters in fencing and other manly exercises. The period, however, was now come when Mr. Colebrooke deemed it proper that ■Charles should quit his seclusion for the University of Oxford ; rightly judging, that in the society of a large college, a young jsan of genius and penetration may acquire a pre- ^ ^zaufohd. a previous and practical knowledge of th« "world. But before his departure, he took him one morning into the library, and thus addressed him : — • " ^ly dear Charles, your approach to manhood is so near, and the success of your education has been so great, that I can feel no hesitation in speaking to you as a friend as well as an uncle. I have been con- demned by many for giving you the educa- tion as it were of a prince, when you have only the fortune of a peasant. But those who have been so loud in their cen- sures upon this act, have shown themselves but superficial judges, or else they would have concluded, that he must be allowed nine times out of ten to have formed the best opinion of a plan, who is the most interested in the event. Now if you had not early discovered that your mind was ilttcd for great attainments, I should never have en- tertained the most distant idea of bestowing upon you the education of a finished gentle- man. I should have been only intent upon fixing BEAUFORD. 9 fixing you in some lucrative trade. But gifted as you are. do not for one moment suppose that you will soon reach high honors and independence ; since your life, from the deficiencies of rank and wealth, must necessa- rily be a life of adventure and agitation, be- fore you can grasp the rewards of your ge- nius. It is possible too, that my excessive love for you ma\' have blinded my judgment in this particular, and led me to overrate your powers. To ascertain then that mo- mentous fact beyond a doubt, as much as to afford you the means of procuring suit- able connections for your advancement, do I send you to Christ Church. For there you may have an opportunity of measuring yourself with future ministers and patriots, and of learning from vour competition wiih them, the place that nature has allotted you, and whether I am justified in formins: such an exalted conception of your capacity and destination. As a still farther motive to i^timulate, I will rather sav, than to damo the efforts of a youth of your spirit and qua- lification?, 10 BEAUFORD. liiiciilloiis, it is incumbent upon me to inform vou, that I have sustained a very heavy loss in the late faiUu'e of ]^lr. Calder's mercantile concern, who was one of my earliest and most tried friends in life. The large sum I had deposited there, the saving from my an- nuity which is all I possess in the world, is qone, I fear, never to be recovered. That sum I had destined for the support of your- self and sister, in case it should please the supreme Disposer or all things to take me suddenly from hence : for though I am not a very old man, yet as I decline into the even- infy of life, it is ridit for me to think that even this day may possibly be my last. Now that money being lost, tlicre remains for you nothing more than the scanty pittance your poor mother, an angel now in Heaven, left you ; for the little that I can hope to save under existin'j; circumstances must become the exchifive portion of my dear Louisa. Indeed, I know so well the nobleness and generoiity of your nature, that you will not vest satiblied unless your little is thrown into the BEAUFOUD. 11 the stock for her future provision. You see therefore dearlv, the ur^rent necessity there is of thinkino; notliin^ to be above the reacU Df your industry and perseverance ; and under that persuasion, I am sure you will lind few things to be so. Proceed then as ^ou have begun, and let me have the ineflabie joy of seeing the fruits of your education dis- played in your rising greatness. One obser- vation more, and I have done. In all youi' temporary follies (for my experience \\\\\ not permit me to think even the wisest and most virtuous of young men to be entirely -with- out them) never seek to extenuate them by a comparison with those of others, as that wili be tlie certain means of plungini^ you into greater. But above all, never forget your God, and he will never forget you, for that will be found to be eternally true, whatever wits or atheists may chuse to say to the con- trary." Here Mr. Colebrooke stopped ; and tenderly pressing his nephew by the hand, hastily left the library. The 12 BEAUFORD. The bl^ tear which started from Charles, vhen his uncle had ended his discourse, told him more powerfully than words could do, how fully sensible and grateful he was for the deep interest he took in his welfare. After indul * What a real patriot, how I envy such a man!' and then he desired me to read that part again about him ; which, when I had done, he said e.vcellait — excellent. Now, Sir, I believed, when I found master had not suddenly lost his senses, that he was abusing this Crackeye for being such a fool to wish for a law, that would make no rich and poor ; which, as I take it, must always be the case. For, I could not think him so crazy-headed, although he is so queerish at times, as to like the fellow for what he wanted to do. But when to my big wonder, I found that he thoui^ht him to be a develish clever man, now then, said I to myself, is the nick of time to ask him for a bit of land for poor father and mother, for he has a huge deal of ic 33 BEAUfORDi it ill Staffordshire. Upon whicb I donmiglit- put the question to him. W'iien, would you believe it, Sir, without saying one word, he jumped up from the sot'a^ dashed all the me- dicine bottles at me, and, with an elbow chair, felled me to the ground, \^ith this large cut in my temple ; and I durst say, if he had not stumbled upon me, and hurt his own head, uhich gave me an opportunity of running away, he would have been the death of me. Thoroughly shocked and disgusted with such a brutality of conduct to a servant* whom he had often heard Mr. Cropton com-* mend for his tidelity and attachment, Charles hastily slipped a crown into the lad's hand, and left the court immediately. Such, tiiought he, as he slowly measured his steps towards his College, his mind full of the the story of the ill-used Frank, is the arbi- trary domestic behaviour of these zealots for public liberty. How strongly do they re- mind me of tliose religionibts, ^ho cannot bcaF UEAUFORD. 53 bear with patience or meekness, the slightest contradiction and disappointment, and yet believe, that they are deficient in none of the duties which a Christian owes to his fel- low-creatures. VOL. I. D CHAP. ■'•♦». CHAP. HI. Iiitidia SicuH non invoncrc Tyiannr Tormentum majus — Juvenal. Amoxg the pupils of ]\Ir. Aimwortli, tlicre was one of the name of Warpdale, who haci sprung from a very humble race, but whose estates were immense. In the sixth year of his age he lost his father, originally a clothier in Yorkshire ; but who, from a long series of uninternipted successes, and strict habits of parsimony, died one of tlie greatest land- holders in that county. Being an only son, and left under the sole direction of an imiorant mother, whose dai'ling he had ever been, the BEAUFORD. 35 most distant appearance of restraint or seve- rity ^vas carefully avoided in his education. And if he had not discovered an early taste for reading, there would have been a fair prospect of his passing through life as a thorough blockhead ; since his domestic tutor was too intent upon getting a fat living from his mother, by complying with all her notions, to think of punishing him when he deserved ; or, indeed, of discharging conscientiously any other duty of that respectable office. In- dulged, therefore, without controul, in every humour and caprice, even his passion for reading produced none of those beneficial effects which they would have done under the hands of a skilful and vigilant master. For whenever a title pleased his eye, his tutor did not dare to prevent his snatching the volume from the shelf and readin^j it. From such va2:ue and miscellaneous reading, of course, nothing could be expelled, but a confused mass of truth and error : while the disposition of Warpdale, naturally violent and domineer- ing, was rendered still more so by the peeu- D 2 lianty 56' BE At; FORD. larity of his situation. For constantly re- siding: with his mother, he saw none hut those over whom he had ahiiost an unlimited power ; and, therefore, none m hose character he so much respected, or wiiose censures dreaded, as to make him assun:ie a sufficient command of himself To this spoiled youth, Mt. Aimworth had paid uncommon attention; duly reflecting how much power his great wealtli would give him of doing good or harm, by the right or wrong direction of his mind and principles. Instead, therefore, of his vague and multi- farious reading, he substituted a regular and scientific mode of study; while he souiiht to correct the fiery ebullitions of his temper, into which he was occasionally hurried even before him, by good-humoured raillery, or serious remonstrances. By such methods, the mind and disposition of \Varpdale ^^ ere in a likely way of being greatly improved, when an unlucky step taken by Mr. Aim- worth destroyed all that he had with such assiduous patience laboured to rear, Thii>k- BEAU FORD. 37 inij nothing more wanting to make the man .completely difterent from the boy, than a proper model of an accomplished gentleman, he one day took an opportunity of setting Charles before his eyes, as a standard of that character, and earnestly exhorted liim to conform himself to it in almost every particular. Could i\Ir. Aimworth have read the heart of Warpdale, when he re- commended that person as the object of Ins emulation, he would have seen it sicken, as it were, at his very name. For a number of little circumstances, unknown to Mr. Aimworth, had conspired to render Beau- ford almost hateful to his sight. • Impatient of contradiction, yet fond of talking, tiiough very apt, from his violent and over-bearing temper, to be led into un- pleasant wrangling, Warpdale once or twice in that convivial meeting, of Avhich he was a member, had tried his strength with Charles in an argument; but the promptitude of thought, and the rapid flow of well-conceived ftiatter^ 38 BEAUFORD,. matter, which he met with in his adversary, soon made him feel his weakness. This de- feat was very mortitying to his pride ; in somuch, that though he did not attempt again to compare his scanty stock with tiie large treasures of the other, yet he aUvay$ evinced a lurking eagerness to give him a hit, w'hen he thought that he could quietly escape. But it was not in conversational discussion alone that Beauford was his superior. In every trial of bodily skill he came off the conqueror. All this galled Warpdale beyond conception ; especially too, as those who dis- liked him for his self-sufficiency, hauteur y and irritability, took their revenge in per- petually hinting to him, that he was but a cypher in company when Beauford was pre- sent, and of proposing before him those sorts of unequal matches with the former, at tennis and fencing, which plainly indicated their decided sense of his inferiority. Stung to the quick by a treatment which he could not ward off, and certainly had not expected, BEAU FORD. 39 expected, for hitherto his self-conceit had never been disturbed by any such attack from his equals, he endeavoured to regain his peace of mind, by shunning entirely the society of Beauford. Still, however, anguish and perturbation, the effects of that envy with which he was so completely devoured, could not be wholly shaken off by that expe- dient. It often happened, in iMr. Aim- worth's lectures, that a problem which Warp- dale could not solve, an objection which he could not refute, or a sophistry wliich he could not expose, was referred to Charle?:, who was uniformly happy in his solutions ; on which occasions, that truly excellent man bestowed upon him that kind of praise and attention, which superior wealth or rank, un- less accompanied by superior attention, never could obtain from him. All these cir- cumstances, light as they may appear to them in whose breasts the black demon of envy never found entrance, kept Warpdale in such a restless and incessant solicitude, as scarcely any remedy, except the one which he 4t BEAUFORB. he had not the magnanimity to adopt, could effectually pacify. About this time an incident occurred, ^'hich ought to have thoroughly convince^ Warpdale of the folly and wickedness of envying one who had given him no intentional provocation, and likewise have impressed him with the propriety of feeling lur Charles the most unalterable love and gratitude. This, however, only served to render him slill more the slave of the vilest and most detest- able of all human passions. One morning, the feverish state of his mind had driven Warpdale from his bed at an earlier hour than usual ; and being fond of rowing, he took a skiff with the iqtention of amusing himself for half an hour in that exercise. He had not, however, proceeded far down the Isis, when he got entangled in some matted reeds, in endca- vouring to extricate himself from which, he upset the skiff. His strength was nearly ex- hausted, when, by the merest accident, the beauty of the mo-'nmg had brought Beauford to the very spot where he was struggling in the BEAUFORB* 41 ttie water. In an instant, for the lea^t delay Charles saw would be fatal, he fearlessly plunged in, being an expert swimmer, and caught hold of Warpdale's hair, just as he wa.s in the act of sinkinij. The shrieks of some women who saw what had happened, brought the boatmen to their assistance, and the proper restoratives being administered, Warpdale soon opened his eyes, but closed tliem directly again, wjieri he saw Charles standing before him in the person of his deliverer. The conilict of emotions wliich agitated the soul of this young man, at that moment, can be much better conceived ilian desciibed. But as Charles attiibuted his Iriinthig to excessive (debility, and not to the true cause, he ran with all imaginable speed to procure medical aid ; when, upon his return, he had the satis- faction of finding him sufficiently recovered to be removed to his College. The report of this accident soon spread like wild-hre through the University, and pvery tongue was loud in the praises of hcduiui'd's 42 BEAUFOItD. Beauforcrs humanity and courage. The next day, Warpdale's room was besieged by a crowd of visitors ; while some of them, who were no strangers to his past behaviour to Charles, did not forget, when they took their leave, to insinuate, in terms which could not be mis- understood, the peculiar generosity of Beau- ford, in risking his life for one, who had been so industrious in undervaluing these accom- plishments and acquirements which he saw him possessed of In silent agony did this mortified and self-condemned young man hear those inuen- does, which came like so many daggers to his heart. " Oh Turk," said he to his fa- fourite Newfoundland do^:, as the animal affectionately licked his hand, " what a load of vexation and misery thy master would have been saved, hadst thou been with me when the skiff upset. But now, I must be com- pelled to esteem the man whom I cannot love, or else be held up to the scorn and execration of every one, as a monster of in- gratitude. AVould that I had met n^y fate, <) ratiier BZAUFORt). 43 rather than have received from the hands of Beauford, a benefit which cannot be repaid, an obh^ation which cannot be discharged. Oh, whither, whither is my wounded vanity carrying me ' Come, let me impose upon niyseh' a task which I have never done, since reason first dawned upon me — let me have the courage to look into myseit^ and behold my real character. Gracious God ! what a hideous compound does it present of mean- ness, petulance, jealousy, and arrogance i Cursed as I am then with more imperfec- tions and vices than the rest of my fellow - creatures, must I add to tne list of them, envy ? And shall I display all its turpitude and malignity against the man who has pre- served this unvorthy life ? Fool as well as ingrate too not to perceive, that in envying him, I coutess his superiority." Such were the sentiments of remorse and repentance which obtruded themselves upon the muid of this \\ retched dissatisfied youth, uiiom many esteemed so happy on account of his great fortune, when Charles entered his room. 44 BEAUX- ORD. room, to congratulate him upon his speedy recovery. Now, though Warpdale's former coolness could not have escaped the notice of so ac- curate an observer as Beau lord, yet he never conceived that he entertained towards him a dislike bordering upon hatred. Still less could he imagine that a 3'oung man like him, immensely rich, handsome, and Avhat the world calls accomplished, to whom every society \va5 open, and whose very faults and follies were treated by so many with a degree of feminine indulgence, could possibly envy any being ; much less one, whose early days must be passed in toils, and privations, and anxieties, before he could obtain distinction, or perhaps never arrive at it, after all his unwearied efforts. lie therefore accosted Warpdale with that unaffected friendliness, which showed that he considered their late differences to be of the most transient na- ture, and arising only from a contrai'icty of opinion on both sides, purely accidental. 'J'here was a visible constraint, however, ia the BEAUFORT 4i the manner of Warpdalc, when. he took him by the hand, and expressed his thanks to him for liis exertions, which would have struck Cliarles in anv other person, but was ascribed in him to that awkwardness which he readily conceived to be felt upon the present occasion, by one who had been from his cradle accustomed to confer and not to receive favors. Without therefore being the least affected by it, he entered into a casual flow of conversation, which enabled Warpdale to recover his self-possession, and they separated for the first time since they had met, with an appearance of friendship on each part. From this time his behavior to Charles was so frank and cordial, that none would have supposed that he had ever harboured in his breast anv sentiments of aversion to- wards him. Indeed, without sacrificing the proud independence of his mind, Beauford would have succeeded in c^ainiui^: the aftec- tions of this ^' touchy and wayward'' young man, if one of those imps of niischief wiiich are 46 ^TAVTont. are to be found in colleges, as well as courts, in retaliation for a reproof which upon some occasion he had justly merited from Charles, had not artfully hinted to Warpdak, that he had been ridiculed in company by his pre- server, for the \Aomanish timidity he had shown when l^e came to his succour in the water. Now as no character is more con- temptible than that of a coward, especially in the eye of a young man, this hint so care- lessly thrown out, \Aas quite enough to set so inflammable a being as Warpciale into a perfect phrenzy. He fumed, he ftamped and swore ; he shed tears of minded jxrief and rage, at having owed his life to Beau- ford, and thus being debarred of taking his away in return, without a violation of nature. His passions being all mounted up to the highest pitch of fury, he saw every thing that Charles had lately said or done through a false medium ; his approbation was flattery, his moderation pity, and his attention base- ness. Without therefore the possibility, once entering into iiis contemplation, that what he BEAUFORD. 47 he had heard miiyht be the invention of a wicked and ^vorthless fool, did this rash- headed young man determine that his ven- ceance for this affront should be as dreadful as if it had been sanguinary. The better to conceal his vindictive intentions, he appeared before Charles v.ith a countenance and beha- viour expressive of nothing but the most perfect tranquillity. A few days before this malicious lie had been ^vhispered to the ear of Warpdale, accident had thrown into his way a book called IVanleys JFonders, in which some extraordinary stories are told of the terrible eftects of sudden fright upon the mind. He resolved therefore to make an experiment of one of those stories upoo Beauford, exulting to himfelf, with a savage delicrht, that if it proved successful, he should, without labour or danger, blast a harvest which the other so goon expected to reap ; for it was well known to him, that the object which he had marked out for ruin, was then writing for a prize composition; and that Mr. Aimworth had ventured 4S BEAUFOItD. ventured to predict lit? would be the success* ful candidate. Again and again, therefore, Warpdalc thailked his hicky stars for afford- ing so favorable a juncture of wreaking his vengeance upon hiui. Accordingly he in* vited to his rooms tliree young men who sought to find their way into his heart by accommodating themselves to his caprices "without repugnance, and adopting his senti- ments without hesitation. Having properly wound up the bastard courage of these syco- phants with a plentiful quantity of cham- paigne, he laughingly asked them, if they did not think it would be a capital good joke to pay a nocturnal visit to some one they knew, Beauford for instance, in masquerade. Ever ready to echo his opinion, they all hailed the proposal with noisy rapture. Upon which, Warpdale produced three most hideous masks, and a rope of ladders, having taken care to provide himself in the interim with those necessary materials for accom- plishing his diabolical plan ; while he at the same time had the addrefs to persuade them, that BEAUrORD. 49- that all the fun would consist in Surrounding his bed together, and, w ith a frightful shriek, \vakening him out of his sleep with their lighted tapers held up before the masks. Their approbation being obtained to all this, he prodigiously lamented that he could not be a spectator of the inimitable drollery of the scene, in consequence of having sprained his knee that morning in fencing, and being thus disabled from ascendina: the ladder. The agents of his revenge being completely equipped for their exploit, they sallied forth to Beauford's window, in the full expec- tation of finding him fast locked in the arm^ of sleep. It however fortunately happened for the object of their intended sport, that he felt a greater inclination to borrow some hours of that nidit for the finishing of his Essay, as the time was fast approachinfr for the decision of the prizes. Alone^ and -yst then rapt in the delicious thoudit of the exquisite happiness his uncle and sister would receive, if he should " bear away the palm,"" he was suddenly startled from this VOL. I. E delio;htful 60 BEAUrORD. delightful reverie, by the figure of a man slowly raising up the window, with a small lantern in his hand. His presence of mind, however did not forsake him. In a moment he put out his own candles, and darting upon his visitor, with one vigorous effort dragged him to the ground. The quickness of this unexpected action, occasioned the inebriated poltroon to roar out most lus- tily ;which was a sufficient signal for the two others to make a precipitate re- treat. *' Who are you, and what brought you here, so strangely accoutered," sternly de- manded Charles, while with one hand he grasped him by the collar, and with the other took up the lantern whicli lay at his feet. " Why, don't you know me in this dis- guise?" replied Williamson, affecting to laugh, and raising himself up from the ground. " And pray, Sir, to what cause am I in- debted for this unusual mode of intrusion 7 upon BEAUFOItD. 51 wpon my privacy' ?" said Charles, his eye flashino; with an2;er. Upon which, Williamson, who was as ready to accuse as to betray, and fearful from the looks of Beauford, that he might experience still rougher proofs of his re- sentment, thought it most prudent, after telling him the design of his visit, to in- form him, that Warpdale was the planner of it. " It is w-ell," answered Charles, with a more composed tone of voice, '' for you as well as myself, that 1 was not found in bed and asleep. For in my first surprise, I should have certainly laid you dead on the spot, under the belief that my life was about to be taken away by thieves ; an act which however the law might have justified by the necessity of self-defence, would have em- bittered the remainder of my days. Thank- ful I am that I w as not led to commit such a deed ; yet do not suppose that I shall more quickly lose my resentment upon that ac- E 2 count. LIBRARY 52 BEAUFOKD. count. At any ])roper incident for nierri- ment, it would be affectation, nay downright inorosencss, not to laugh heartily ; and I trust I can bear a joke as well as any of my acquaintance. But I shall never style that a piece of fun, which endanirers my life at the caprice of others. You need not, how- ever, be under the smallest apprehension of being rusticated by any complaint that I shall make to the Head of the College re- specting this impertinent intrusion of yours ; as I shall content myself with simply observing to you, Mr. Williamson, that if ever you again repeat the experiment of frightening me out of my senses in this way, 1 shall inflict upon you that chastisement which so dastardly an attempt deserves." Having said this, Beauford pointed to the door, and coolly shut it in his face. The malignant contriver of this adventure had swallowed so many bumpers in endea- vouring to drown all suspicions in his con> panions, BEAUFORD. SS panions, of the possibility of a miscarriage in their frolic, and the consequent unplea- santness of it, that they had searcely left liim before lie became so affected by the wine, that his valet put him into his bed in a state little short of insensibilit}'. When he had slept off the fumes of intoxication, which was not till late next mornino\ his first inquiry was, whether ^d\\ Williamson had called upon hiin, and finding that he had not, he hastily dressed himself, eager to be told, in his unrelenting desire of revenge, the. distressful condition in which they had placed the hated Beauford, since he never once doubted, that a scheme so safe and practicable could be frustrated. In turnino* however the corner of a cloister, wliich led to W^illiamson's rooms, in his hurrv he abruptly pushed against a person, when looking up to ask his pardon, his eyes met those of the very being in the bloom of ileal th and manly vigour, whom he had pleased himself with the horrid idea of having 54: BEAUFORD. having fixed to his bed for a leni^th of time, his memory and judgment impaired by tlie shock of last night's fright. Sudden surprise and conscious guilt turned Warpdale speechless and pale as ashes. The blood mounted into the face of Beau ford at the recollection of his ungrateful conduct, and darting at him a look of mingled pity and contempt, without saying a single word, he passed on. Shame, rage, and anguish fixed W arpdale for some time mute and immove- able on the spot. As soon as he had in some degree recovered himself, he ran or rather flew to his chamber, ordered his ser- vant to procure immediately four post horses, and never rested till he had reached his seat in Yorkshire. The rapid motion of the journey, the over-boilings of wrath, pride, and despair, and the dreadful conviction of liaving accredited an infamous lie, which alternately agitated his bosom, together with the total loss of sleep and appetite, produced soon after his arrival a violent delirium. When, BEAUFORD. 55 When, if base flattery had not corrupted the heart of this mistaken young man, the least reflexion would have taught him, that to have escaped a vice like that of envy, did not demand any prelucent virtues, but only to resolve upon the preservation of self-respect, and the love of humanity. tllAP. IV. Woultl'st lliou, my Lord, be wise and virluov^s deemed By all mankind, a prodigy esteemed ? Be tliis thy rule ; be what men prudent call ; Prudence, almighty prudence gives thee all. Keep up appearances, there lies the test. The world will give thee credit for the rest. Churchill. A FORTNIGHT had scarcely elapsed after the departure of War pd ale, when Mr. Aim' Avorth's prediction was accomplished ; and he had the gratification of hearing the Essay of Charles receive the most flattering testi- monies of applause from as numerous and respectable an auditory as ever was assem- bled in the theatre of Oxford. Amonor the distinguishecj BEAU FORD. 57 distinguished personages who admired the acutcness of penetration, the justness of reasoning, and the splendid strokes of elo- quence displayed by Charles in his per- formance, was earl Altamont ; who:^e. pa- tronage was esteemed the certain road to wealth and honors, and whose praises were courted by scholars of the first eminence and erudition. His Lordship liad succeeded to the title and estates of his brother in the thirtieth year of his age ; and had he continued a younger brother, the mediocrity of his talents would never have distiufruished him from the vulvar mass of men. But forty thousand a year, the nomination of several boroughs, the pos- session of that talent in common speech, called discretion^ and an ambition extremely active and inordinate had converted him into a minister of state. In his eager desire, however, of being some-body in the political world, nothing strikes us so strongly as the untrodden path vv hich he took to climb the ^teeps of greatness. Disqualified by nature and 58 BEAUFOHD. and a neglected education from acquiring the reputation of an orator and a debater, he affected to be so passionately addicted to rural sports, to social and convivial joys, and to all fashionable gaieties and amuse- ments, as to have little time, and less incli- nation, to engage in public business. To support this appearance, he kept horses for racing, though he took no delight in that sport; he built a tennis court, though he never struck a ball ; he maintained a fine pack of fox-hounds, though he rarely fol- lowed a chace ; he gave the highest prices for pointers of any man in the kingdom, though he never handled a gun ; he kept an open table, though he seldom did the honors of it ; and he surpassed every other noble family in the county, in the frequency and splendor of his musical entertainments, though he was conscious of deriving not the smallest enjoyment from them. While his political friends, therefore, thought him immersed in a round of dissi- pation and pleasures, he was indefatigable iu BEAUFORD. 59 in his private library, and preparing public speeches with great pains and deliberation. In delivering however his sentiments in the House, it was his great aim to set them forth as if they were the suggestions of ready genius, and a quick perception ; so that though he seldom spoke, and never upon occasions where a reply was expected, yet by that contrivance, what he did say, parried with it very great weight. Still further to secure the name of a statesman, he secretly expended very considerable sums in obtaining information respecting the views of the different cabinets in Europe. By which means, it sometjmes happened that he gained intelligence of important events before they had reached the ears of the ministry ; when, in conununicatins them, he ever artfully managed to give his penetration the appearance almost of intuition. He thus was able to delude even the best judges of talents, and the acutest observers of cha- racter amoncf his colleagues, into a thoroush belief, tliat there were few persons who. • more 60 EEAUFORD. more completely understood the relative in- tfirests of Europe than himself; and that if he were less a man of pleasure, the quick- ness of his parts, and the sdlidity of liis judgment would render him one of the most leading meinhers of administration. I'o cajole also the vvcrld into an opinion, that he had an iiifmite fund of various and almost universal knowledge, he treasured up in his mind a number oi anecdotes, repar- tees, good sayings, and humorous incidents, which with Mi'eat industrv he had collected irom rare oooks ; w hen under the appear- antc of careless indilTerencc, he v. as anxi- ously watching an opportunity of introduc- ing them at a proper time and place, lie had the method also of escaping from an untenable position, and from arguments which he could not refute or invalidate, in a very peculiar way. Being rather of a corpulent habit of body, he affected to doze, wiien he could not reply ; and continued in a sort of lethargic state, until an opening was made for him to put in a hit of retaliation. Little BEAUFORD. ' 61 Little then did his acquaintance suspect, when they expressed their sui'prise at his acquisitions made in a condition of visible negligence and gaiety, what a deal of labour it cost hiui to obtain their praises. To create a reputation anionic the readiOiT and thinking part of society, the assistance; of men of letters was indispensably necessary. Accordingly, he became a Miccenas in one sense of that word ; — he gave excellent dinners to those Avho were supposed to di- rect the public taste. Upon these also he practised the same trick of lolling back in his chair, in seeming drousmess, when the stock of his ideas was exhausted, and there was the least possible liazard of committing himself. But ever .vigilant and attentive in his prudential silence, he lost no idea that was started or hint which could be useful to him ; v\hile such were the fears of this diligent collector of hints, that any valuable remark might elude him in consequence of the badness of his memory, that lie never went to bed, however late his company might 6^ BEAU FORD. might separate, without first writing down whatever fell from tiieir lips that coulil in the remotest degree he instrumental to the gratification of his reigning passion for being reckoned a great statesman. Without having a particle of real charity in his whole composition, his name .was enrolled in all public benefactions, under the notion that it would give him popularity amonoj the subordinate classes of the com- munity. Nor could any one be mentioned of his rank and power in the state who appeared so often as the promoter and pre- sident of patriotic institutions. He was here indeed upon iiis very strongest ground. He could upon such occasions make a speech without incurring the risk of being disconcerted by an unexpected objection ; and havinjx the strenirth of an Herculean constitution, he could swallow deep pota- tions without producing any inebriety, while the passions of those around him were just in that fit stats to be gratified exceedingly by those attentions which he knew so well how BEAUFORD. 63 how to time and where to apply. His civi- lities of this kind, (for those to whom he paid them generally, wanted nothing else of him,) rarely failed of producing the desired effect ; that of rendering him a general favorite among a body of men who, by a variety of minute and circuitous channels, had a considerable influence over the minds of their fellow-subjects. More circumstances to give a person a great reputation among his contemporaries, and little or none with posterity, cannot easily be imagined. The temper of Earl Altauiont was in con- sequence of his domineering passion for politics, very uncertain and precarious. He was as often offended as pleased ; but his hatred was always more violent and lasting; than his benevolence. To his dependents, especially of that description whom death alone could remove from his control, he was a complete tyrant ; indeed hardly a single trait of kindness of heart, or generous phi- lanthropy, can be produced to be cast into the scale against the several acts of op- pression. 64 BEAUFOIID. pression, arrogance, and selfishness, they experienced from liiin. His notions of friendship, therefore, we may suppose were not of the n^oht exalted kind. For he had breathed too much of the air of a court to think, that the sacred and venerable name of friendship was any thing more than mere varnisii and pretext ; and that self-interest was not the real spring and motive of all those actions which the world accounted to be of a pure and disinterested nature. Reasoning from this principle, all the good offices he did, were primarily for the sake of his own accommodation. It therefore never once entered into his head to bestow any peculiar marks of his bene- ficence where he did not expect to gather the fruils of that beneficence with a ten- fold increase. Upon which account his friendship uas more offered to the rich and great, tlian to the wise and virtuous. There Hiight be said indeed to be only two persons upon earth to whom his heart was suscep- tible of that feeling, and these were his sister BEAU FORD. 65 sister and his daughter ; vet even with these he could not enjoy (so much had the habit of acting with the utmost wariness and art in every possible public circumstance and situation, gradually weakened the feelings of nature) that delicious sympathy, and that confidential ease and openness which con- stitute the charm and soul of family affec- tion. Such was a true picture of the great Earl Altamont ; upon whose person the pomp of state had thrown so strong a lustre, and whose cautious dark and crooked policy had been so far successful in blinding the judg- ments of men as to make all his public actions seen through that delusive medium, which, like a fo^, aggrandizes every object much beyond its proper magnitude. As his Lordship was now in his fiftieth year, and his fame, in his own estimation, was established upon a solid basis, he thought that he could safely venture to relax a little from that application which had o( late been so incessant in consequence of the VOL. I. F deal]] 66 BLAUrORD. death of his old and confidential Secretary, and from that mysterious course of proceed- ingj which enabled him not only to impose upon the multitude, hut upon those who were much superior to the multitude. An- other circumstance also powerfully co- operated to produce this determination. Having in the ch^ce of popular favor found it, as we have shewn by such an untried path, his correspondence was accordingly of a very voluminous and diversified kind. His official letters formed the least part of his labours. He had to address those whose opinion of his judgment and capacity would be considerably weakened, if his letters were deficient in clearness, solidity and correct- ness. There were others too, who looked up to him as an oracle of wisdom, and therefore could not be answered with heed- less indifference, without the danger of their faith being staggered in that particular. But now that he had lost the man who imparted method, accuracy and style to all his written productions, and whose lasting ' silence BEAUFORD. 67 silence and gratitude be secured by })laces and pensions, he found biinself utterly un- equal to the task of maintaining a correspon- dence which required the pen of an accom- plished scholar. Whenever therefore he sat down to write, the consciousness of his de- fective education, (his father being of those noblemen who thoudit that learnincr was entirely useless to those who are born to fortunes) gave rise to many disagreeable feelings and apprehensions ; although he had recourse to all imagmable expedients to make his correspondents believe, that he epistolized them currente calamo, and never failed to remind them that his communica* tions were strictly confidential ; yet such was his suspicious temper and bad opinion of mankind in general, that he could not help fancying all his precautions would be of no use, if they thwarted the view^ of vanity or self-interest. ' • Under these several impressions, Earl Altampnt had been casting his eyes c.- round for some months past in search of a F 2 person 6$ BEAUFORD. person whom, in the character of his private secretary, he might admit to that sort of familiarity, which by his management would enable him to get his harsh, inelegant, and oftentimes ungrammatical diction polished and amended, without exposing his igno- rance in that respect, or having his inten- tions seen through, or without affording any person even a distant glimpse of those ma- noeuvres by which he had acquired such high power and distinction. But hitherto his Lordship's inquiries had been attended with no success. Indeed, it was not a little that would have satisfied him ; for he wanted to find respectable birth, distinguished talents, and accomplished manners united in the person of a young man. That however, for which he might have looked in vain for many years instead of months, mere accident now threw into his way. It happened about this period, that his Lordship was on a visit to one of his political friends in the neighbourhood of Oxford ; when in a cursory conversation with his BEAUFORD. 69 his host, he learnt that a ^oung man of pre- emment abilities had obtained the annual prize composition, which was to be recited the next day. In the doubtful hope of finding the object of his wishes realized in this young person, his Lordship proposed that they should hear this performance. Accordingly, they set off for Oxford the following morning, and just arrived in time to take their seats before Charles had be^un. Now his appearance could not fail of in- teresting every one in his favor. His ad- dress was so striking, and his countenance was so replete with animation and mind. The expectations of the Earl were therefore much raised. But when in a clear, full, and finely modulated voice, he pronounced a discourse which exhibited such incontesti- ble proofs of genius and learning, his Lord- ship could not refrain from abandoning him- self to the general admiration. Bent upon procuring the literary services of Charles at any price, for his love of money was entirely subservient to his am- bition, 70 BEAUFORD. bition, he enquired immediately the name of his, tutor, and having found it to be Mr. Aimworth, with whom he had some slight acquaintance, he took the earliest opportu- nity of calling upon that gentleman. Yet ever watchful, and ever attentive to the most distant consequences of every action, he first informed himself of every particular respect- ing the character, connections and })rospccts of Charles before he fully acquainted Mr. Aimworth with the object of his visit," And even then he was incapable of pursu- ing the end in view without assurnino; some disguise, or< employing that artifice in con- duct, which is the offspring of deceit ; since" so far from expressing to him the satisfaction which he secretly felt of having met with a young man |)ossessed of all the qualifications which he had been so much in search of, he affected to tell ]\Ir. Aimworth, that though he had no particular want for a private Secretary, he nevertheless offered Mr. Eeau- ford that situation, solely from his love of patronizing real merit : holding out however will^ BEAU FORD. 7i with the offer such dazzling prospects as he thought no one, whose breast was fired with' an honorable ambition, could withstand. As Mr. Aim worth was no stranger to the aspiring views of Charles, and had indeed encouraged them in every proper' way, he was well assured that this proposal would be liighly agreeable to his pupil ; he therefore, after paying the Earl an hand- some compliment on his disposition to ripen the laurels of the unfriended scholar, which he received with all the air of a man who had really deserved it, informed him, that before Mr. Beauford could finally accept his advantageous offer, he must consult his uncle, who had supplied to him the place of a parent since his infancy. The great man then departed ; little doubting from what had fallen from Mr. Aim worth's lips, that his proposal would be embraced on the part of Charles with the utmost avidity and thankfulness. Before his Lordship, how- ever, left Oxford, he addressed a short letter to Charles, in -i^hich he lamented that his engage- 7'i BEAU FORD. engagements prevented their having a perr sonal interview at Oxford ; — passed an high eulogium upon his talents, referred him to Mr. Aimworth for the substance of the conversation v/hich he had held re- specting him, and concluded by expressing a vi'ish, that he would repair with all conve- nient speed to Eeechwood Court, if his over- tures were approved by him and his uncle. Two posts only had elapsed when Charles received the following letter from Mr. Cole- brooke. " It is scarcely necessary to inform you, my dear nephew, with what heartfelt delight, I read your epistle. The contents of it have not only compensated for the severe dis- appointment which I sustained in not being a spectator of your late fame, but have like- wise afforded me ^ favorable opportunity of adopting a plan which every day I feel be- comes more essentially necessary. For I must at length draw afide the veil before my .state of hraUh, however the naked fact may alarm you. That reg'ina vwrborum, the gout, LEAUFORD. 73 gout, has of late paid me so many visits, that I am reduced to a condition of weakness which is excessive, and appearances are in other respects very much against me. Yet, in saying tliis, do not suppose that I reckon upon a speedy dissolution ; on the contrary, I feel the spirit of life so strong within me, that now I am able with satisfaction to my own mind, to follow the advice of my phy- sician, which is to repair to the south of France. I calculate upon living loner enout^h to be a witness of your prosperity and crpeat- ness; as so unexpected an avenue to reputa- tion has been opened to you by the patronar;e of Earl Altamont. I shall therefore begin my journey ima:jediately after having left your sister at Mrs. Eaglehurst's, who, I am quite certain, wiy act the part of a tender mother to her during my absence. For I am inexorable to all the solicitations of Louisa to accompany me; well knowing the incon- venience and danger to which I should ex- pose her in a country, where not only the tempest of war roars around its dominions, bat 74 BEAUrORD. but where the bands of society are com- pletely loosened. An intinn old man may set himself down there for a time \\ithout the risk of being noticed or molested ; but the protection 1 could otler to a lovely young female, under sucii circumstances, would be so insecure, that I should be filled with a thousand apprehensions for her pei'sonal safety. To go then alone is my irrevocable determination. And as taking leave of those to whom I am unalterably attached, is to me of all things the most distressing; you must forgive my selfishness in this instance, if I spare myself that pain ; and now say to you upon paper, what I should else have said to you in person. " My chief pleasure in the appointment offered to you by Earl Altamont, arises from the persuasion, that it will enable you to take a nearer view of those, whose birth and employments necessarily place them at a distance from the greatest part of nran- kind ; and therefore will the sooner pave for you a way to display to the public advantage, tiiosc EEAUFORD. 75' those talents ^vith which you have ah'cady afforded indisputable proofs of being gifted. For though it cannot be with justice affirmed, that men of humble origin, are systematically excluded from hi2;h stations in this coun- try, yet it is undeniable, that the largest share of political power is engrossed by hereditary wealth and rank. Without an auspicious introduction therefore of this kind to public affairs, the influence you would ol)tain in them from mere personal talents or accomplishments, would, I suspect, be insig- nificant and precarious. " Now with regard to the plan of conduct which it is proper to pursue in your situa- tion, the most suitable' and useful piece of advice which I can nossiblv iiive vou unon that head is, to aim in all your actions at M'hat is noble and lionorable, and then vou will fear no humiliation, and dread no de- tection. If you cannot be great by acting thus, at least you will not be unhappy. I cannot myself boast of the friendship or favor of statesmen, and therefore have only known them 76 BZAUfORD. them in their dress of ceremony. You \vill , see them in their domestic privacy ; and be competent to make that accurate examina- tion of their merit, as to determine whether high stations make great men, or superior fitness and ability are the chief recommen- dations to hij^h stations. " I cannot conclude without reminding you of one very pleasing circumstance in your entrance into lite. You have been called into the presence of the great, from a con- viction of your merit, and not arrived there by artifice. You are not therefore obliged to offer the gross and fulsome flattery of a parasite ; or to be the butt and buffoon of those to whom you may wish to recommend yourself; or to tremble at the lower tables of the great, scared with laced domestics, and sumptuous banquets. No — all that will be demanded of you, is, to pay that proper respect to those, v.hom the laws of the land have made noble, without suffering them at the same time, from the awe of fear or the hopes of favor, to forget that proper respect A^hich EFAUFCPvD. 77 which is due to your own character and understanding. M'hich piece of advice I entertain no doubt you will practise much better than I have expressed it. Farewell ; and may that uninterrupted happiness, which is the lot of few, be bestowed upon you, is the ardent prayer of *' Your ever affectionate friend and uncle, '' John Collbkookl." '' P. S. I have arranged with my banker, %o honor your drafts, to the amount of a thousand pounds, to meet any unforeseen wants of yourself and your sister during my absence." CHAP. CHAP. V. A VIEW OF A GREAT FAMILY. As soon as Charles had perused his uncle's kind amd admonitory letter, which he deter- mined to make the siuide of his future con- duct, he hastened to communicate its con- tents to Mr. Aimworth. This truly friendly man, who felt an almost paternal affection for Cliarles, advised him to inform Earl Altamont, that he should have the honor of waiting upon him in the course of a few days. Which, having accordingly done, Mr. Aim- worth told him, that he had made it his business BEAUFOIID. 79 business to ride over to a friend at Wood- stock, whom he knew was well acquainted with the noble inmates of Beechwood Court; and I will now give you, added he, the re- sult of my visit ; taking it for granted, that your curiosity must be as great as it is na- tural, to get some previous insight into the characters of a familv, with which you v\ill continue, in all probability, for so many years. The sketch I have drawn to you be- fore of his Lordship's character, is fully con- firmed by my friend ; gay and careless in his temper, and only wanting steadiness of at- tention, to become, from that prompt elo- quence, and that acuteness with which nature has endowed him, one of the first orators, as well as statesmen, of the present day. Plis only daughter, Ladj Emily Clairville, is a beautiful creature, but of such lofty manners, the effect of the extreme pride of high birth, as to render her an object of dislike to those who would else admire her for her personal charms, and for the cultivated understandinor o and refined taste, vvhich she has derived from €' an M CEAUFORD. an education, chiefly superintended by her mother, who was not only a most accoui- pHshed woman, but u great patroness of learning. But having lost this invaluable pa- rent about three years ago, who 5aw, and it is probable, would have entirely annihilated that tendency to excessive pride in her daughter, it has encreased rather than diminished since her death. From this de- scription of the heiress of Beechwood Court, I am sure you will never be disposed to use any expressions towards her, beyond those of the most distant civility and politeness. With her aunt, however, Lady Aleereslield, if my friend's picture retain any resemblance to the original, you will soon converse with intimacy ; for, to a great share of strong na- tural penetration and good sense, she unites an aflkbility and good humour, which affords a very pleasing contrast to the hauteur of her niece. She was a widow, in lier twenty- sixth year ; but never felt any inclination to enter aiiain the matrinionial state, as her first affections had been sacrificed to family great- ness BlCAUFORD. Hi hess. I will now give you, from my own ob- servation, continued Mv. Aim worth, the cha- racter of Dr. Glebmore, who has lately been appointed the domestic chaplain of his Lord- ship ; and that I may be strictly on my guard against that prejudice, which I freely confess I entertain against him, I will rather lower than heighten the outline of the likeness. What religion requires in her ministers, I am afraid you will not easily discover in Dr* Glebmore's character ; a mild and conciliat- ing address, and a disposition to reason with unbelievers with gentleness and forbearance. In their place, however, you will be sure to find that fierce orthodoxy, which can eflface a name from the list of Christianity for an offence, which perhaps has been no sooner committed than expiated by sorrow or retrac- tion ; a certain haughty sternness of manner to those whom he takes upon himself to guide and enlighten ; with an intolerable arrogance to such as he can command, and a most ob- sequious acquiescence to the opinions of his supenors. VOL. I, G When 82 BEAUFORD. When Charles had returned his thanks to Mr. Ainnvorth for this communication, and expressed to him the deep sense of gratitude which he should ever cherish for the manj proofs of kindness and friendship wliich he had given him, he retired to his room, and dispatched a letter to his uncle and sister, in which he gently chid the latter for concealing from him the illness of Mr. Coiehrooke ; telling her, she ought not to have suspected that nature had denied to him that firmness which she herself possessed. The remainder of his short stay in Oxford, was divided be- tween preparations for his departure, and the society of those few who cordially rejoiced at his new appointment. Lord Pensington too, who was distantly related to the Alta- mont family, and Sir Harry and Cropton, who had some slight acquaintance v\ ith the Earl, thought proper to pay Beauford a fare- well visit ; but from tlie cool manner in which tiiey behaved to him, he was con- vinced their grief would not have been verv excessive. BEAUFOR0. 83 excessive; had they known that they should never meet again. The moment was at last arrived, when Charles was to bid adieu to Oxford, where three years of his life had been so profitably spent. After taking an affectionate leave of Mr. Ainiworth, he began his journey, with mingled sensations of apprehension and plea- sure, and reached Beechwood Court the next day about four o'clock. This magnifi- cent edifice, situated in Warwickshire, and built upon a commanding eminence, was visible to the naked eye several miles from the road. As the chaise slowly moved up the hill adjacent to the house, the landscape around was truly rich and diversified ; here and there were level vales and gently rising hills, enlivened with hamlets and farm houses^ peeping forth amid woodlands and rich pas- tures, or deeply embosomed in woods. A noble plantation clothed the steep sidfes of the hill ; through which, however, in peculiarly happy situations, views were opened into a majestic 6 S expanse 84» BEAUFORD, expanse of water that, in the most free anrf graceful curves, wound around the finely wooded eminencies of the park. Ever an enthusiastic admirer of the beauties of nature, Charles gazed with such intense deliglit upoft scenery so very picturesque and enchanting, that he almost forcfot how soon he should come into the presence of that man, who was to have such a powerful influence in the di- rection of his future fortunes. Having ascended the summit of the hill,. Charles approached to a Gothic arch, which was one of the entrances into the park, and proceeded along a drive upwards of a mile in extent, in which were fine chesnuts and beech, so judiciously disposed, as to give to art all the appearance of negligent nature. At the termination of this drive, was the porter 3 lodge ; whence Charles had a full view of the mansion, whose grand and im- posing exterior, seemed well fitted to reign over the domain in which it was placed. Here the carriage stopped ; and as Earl Altamoiits atfectatioa of splendor and etiquette BEAUFORD. 85 etiquette pervaded even to the minutiae of his household, the porter, as he opened the gate, rang his bell, to give notice of the ap- proach of a carriage; when two servants met Beauford at the vestibule, from which he as- cended by a stately flight of steps into the hall, when another domestic then appeared, who announced his name to the groom of the chambers, by whom he was conducted through two rows of antique marble statues into a gallery enriched with columns of gra- nite, along which he passed a suite of mag- nificent apartments, till at length he came into the library, where sat his Lordship, Lady Emily, her aunt, and Dr. Gleb- more. All this parade was well calculated to dazzle and overawe a vulgar mind. But the self-possession of Charles w^as not to be lost by any such gaudy pomp of ostentatious greatness. He therefore advanced to his Lordship with a modest firmness, indicative of a conduct that would be full of all proper espect for him, though never characterised by 2 ^6 BEAUFORD. by the style and deportment of a sycophant. The Earl welcomed him to Bcechwood Court %vith all that urbanity which he could so well assume when it suited his purpose, and in- troduced him individually to his family. When Charles entered the room, Lady Emily was busily employed in finishing a drawing ; and under the thorough persuasion that her father's new secretary was a mere plodding man of business without the least pretensions in his air or manner to grace and elegance, as my Lord had only simply in- formed her that he was at last suited, she scarcely raised her head to give one involun- tary glance of curiosity. Description, there- fore, must fall short in the attempt to con- vey an idea of her astonishment, when there appeared before her one of the most hand- some and interesting young men she had ever seen ; who had all the address which a man of quality should have, and in whose eyes, air, and tone of voice, there was as much eloquence as in the choice of his words. Her surprise, therefore, was so sudden and SQ EEAUFORD. 87 SO great at this rencontre, that when Charles advanced to pay his respects to her, her em- barrgissment increased to that degree, that her voice faaltered, and she was incapable of uttering a distinct word. But so per- fectly unconscious was Charles of the real cause of this behaviour, that he at once at- tributed it to that wretched species of pride which assumes affectation for dignity. As this reception then exactly squared with the account he had received of her Ladyship, he was not the least disconcerted bv it, but immediately turned from her with an uncon- cerned air, and made his bow to her aunt and the doctor. There was something so unaffectedly kind and friendly in the manner in which Lady Meeresfield bid him welcome to Beechwood Court, that the words amiable and agreeable occurred to him, when he looked at her and heard her speak. The physiognomy of Dr. Glebmore was not very prepossessing; while the stiff bend of his head, and the supercilious survey which he took of Charles, gave at once a pretty strong proof 88 BKAUFURD. proof of the justness of Mr. Aiiiiworthd sketch of him. Now that awkwardness of vmuvaise honie which Charles luight have felt in his new si- tuation, he would have been soon relieved from by his Lordship, who, intent upon losing no time in giving his secretary a great opinion of his diversified talents, had medi- tated several answers to questions which he meant to put to Charles ; so that, for half an hour, he kept up a conversation without languor and without interval, in which the seeming promptitude of thought and quick conception in his Lordship, was a matter of no small admiration to Charles. These questions were just finished, when the warn- ing-bell rang for dressing for dinner. A ser- vant then appeared, to conduct Beauford to his apartment. As Lady Emily went out, Charles could not help saying to himself, as he contemplated her finely proportioned figure and beautiful countenance, *' if the qualities of your mind were but half as captivating as your person, most certainly the impression would BEAUFORD. 89 would be irresistible." When Charles was dressed, he was shown to the drawing-room, where all the family, except my Lord, had as- sembled. Presently aftenvards he entered with a gentleman,whom he introduced by the name of Featherweight. He had lately taken his seat in Parliament, for one of the Earl's boroughs; and was what might be called a solemn cox- comb. High-born and high-bred, he was one of those little great persons, who never look upon their inferiors as fellow-creatures. Yet with all his affectation of consequence, and affectation of wisdom, for he generally spoke in short sentences, seldom smiled, and never laughed ; he was contented to truckle with the most abject meanness to his Lordship, whose words and motions he watched and re- garded, even upon the most indifferent occa- sions. He might be said, indeed, to be the shadow of a shadow. But being much ad- mired bv the ladies, for the elegant turn of his person, he secretly aspired to the hand of Lady Emily, and entertained scarcely any doubt, that his frivolous accomplishments, supported 90 BEAUFORD. supported by his external advantages, might in time make that deep impression upon her heart, that /or his ia/iCy she would reject the lii'bt offers in the kingdom ; since to none but those he well knew, her father would dei^n to listen. Accordingly, he had for some months past, exerted all his powers of insi- nuation to in^-ratiate himself into the favor and affection of her Ladyship ; but hitherto he could not flatter himself, with all his self- conceit and presumption, that he had made any very considerable progress. Somebody says, that to pay your court successfully to a beautiful woman, you must not compliment her upon her personal charms, but on her mental acquirements, as one she is certain that she possesses, but being doubtful of the other, she turns a vviiiing ear to those who are ready to assure her, that her superiority is cfjiially manifest in that point of view. Yet even this more sagacious mode of proceeding, did not advance his suit one jot with Lady Kmily. For truth permits, and justice re- quires us to say, tliat where her family pride was BEAUFORD. 91 was not in question, few young women had juster ways of thinking, or more quickly pe- netrated into, and despised those characters, who looked upon riches and greatness with the respect and admiration, ^\ hich are due only to w^isdom and virtue. Although, therefore, the attentions of Mr. Featherweight were never in any way pleas- ing to Lady Emily, yet during the whole time she remained at the table, it was evident to him that she received them this day with looks ofgreater complacency than she had ever before displayed. For angry with herself at having evinced such embarrassment upon the introduction of Beauford, and apprehensive that his vanity might be tempted to put a tlat- tering construction upon it, she determined to treat him with a studied inattention, barely allowable even in those, who think them- selves privileged to depart from the ordinary rules of politeness. When Charles then had had occasion to speak to her, which was in- deed but seldom, she assumed a look of haughty absence, or else that careless unob- scrvanca 9^ BEAUFORD, scrvance in her answers, which was even more provoking than the ujust saucy contempt. Her admirerer too, \\ho endeavoured to adapt his behaviour, and every sentiment he uttered, to what he thought would please her the most; overlooked the secretary in the self- same maimer; and in doing so, he imposed no restraint upon his feelings, as he be- longed to that narrow-minded class of men, who take no delight in beholding talents emerging from obscurity. But the disregard of all pleasing and encouraging forms, in this mere man of fashion, did not in the least mortify Charles ; and Lady Emily he considered rather as an object of pity and pardon than of resentment. Lady Meeresfield, however, could not contemplate their conduct with the same phi losophic composure. She therefore redoubled her attentions to Charles, and strove, by every means in her power, to atone for their rudeness. J\Iy Lord too, who was not a little offended witli his daughter upon this account, and more so u})on her receiving, with bj:auford. 9S with such apparent satisfaction, the assidui- ties of Featherweii^ht, and rightly thinking also, his own consequence was diminished by their marked neglect of Charles, resolved, contrary to his invariable practice of never seeking to render any one an abject of ad- miration but himself, to draw him into that sort of conversation, \^ hich niight teach them and the doctor, whose proud coldness also had not escaped his notice, to respect and admire the youth whom they scarcely dei^rned to answer. Accordingly, when the eoffee was brought into the saloon, instead ©f having it in his private library, his usual custom, he took a chair by his sister, and imperceptibly led Beauford, who was seated near him, into the discussion of topics of an- cient and modern literature ; since, from long practice, and with a view to benefit himself, his Lordship had acquired an art of iiiiro- ducincr new ideas and varvins: conversation. Thus attended to, and thus called forth, the heart of Charles seemed to swell and dilate kself ;^ every feature oi his countenance, and every 94} EEAUFORD. every gesture of his body, were animated; and as nature had given him the finest fancy, and the gift of expressing and painting in brilhant touches all that had struck his ima- gination, it was not possible for those around to hear him without interest and c-ratiticution. Lady Emily, indeed, who was endowed her- self with no small share of delicacy of taste, and of moral sentiment, could not lielp, every now and then, stealing a look at Charles from the chess-board, to which she had sat down with Featherweight, and thinking, while she listened to his happy observations and flowing eloquence, how much wortliier of rank, distinction, and preeminence he was, than the coxcomb by her side, who, because he found Charles unassuming, thought his talents could not be of the highest cast. Thus, by the conduct of Lady Emily, Charles had an opportunity of distinguishing himself, before he had been ten hours in the famil>y which otherwise he might have sought for in vain for ten months, and not then obtained, from the peculiar character of her father, and from BEAUFORD. 05 from the impossibility, in his situation, of taking, uninvited, the leading share, how- ever well fitted, in the conversation of the table. The next morning, Charles, unable to sleep, from ruminating all night upon his new prospects, rose with the dawn. If his eye was delia;hted with the commandins scenerv on his approach to the mansion, it was no less gratified with the diversified and beauti- ful objects around it. There were two di- verging avenues before the main front of the house, into one of which Charles struck, and pursued his way until he came to a noble terrace, that afforded bird's-eye views of the gardens, temples, statues, ruins, monuments, equi-distant bridges, and other external de- corations, arranged with such exquisite taste as he had never before met with in any other ornamental scene. The interior also of this residence, in every respect suitable to a prince, was exactly as we have already shown in unison with the taste of its noble owner ; while there was something so very singi^r and 96 BEAuroup. and grand in his domestic arrancrements, as the reader will not deem a digression io bringing before bis notice. The first, second, and third range of the wings, which stretched out to a great extent, were solely appropriated to sleeping rooms ; to each of them was added a dressing closet into which came hot and cold water, and which was completely provided with every convenience that could be wanted, even to the minutest article. In oi'der also to put an end to all ideas of precedence in this respect, each apartment was furnished exactly in the same manner, without any regard to differ- ence of rank or quality. At the opposite ends of the galleries, were cold baths, and warm and vapour baths, which might be filled in ten minutes. There w£is likewise a spa- cious room, fitted up in the style of a coffee- room, where every one commanded as abso- lutely as if he was in his own house. Here such, visitors as chose it, breakfasted at their own hour, and here were refreshments served to^hem at all times of the day. It was fur- nished BEAUFORD. 97 nished with chess-boards, back-gammon ta bles, newspapers, pamphlets, and reviews. To this room, billiard tables opened, for games, indeed, of all sorts were permitted by his Lordship, but under the express condition that those recreations should terminate only in social amusement, lor the vice of gaming he detested, and would have considered it the highest affront imaginable, if any one of his guests had presumed to indulge under his roof a passion, which is as fatal to public virtue, as to private happiness. In short, the arrangements of every kind were so admirably made, that no multiplicity of visitors and their domestics ever occasioned any confu- sion or disorder ; while, under an air of pro- fusion, all things were conducted with the same oeconomy and regularity as in a private family. When Charles returned from his charming ramble, he found the Earl had risen, and been enquiring after him. Being shown to my Lord's private library, he discovered him VOL. I. H bu^y i^S BEAUFOUD. busily eaiployed uitl) his papers. *' 1 per- ceive," said liis ]L,ordship, after the compli- jpents of the day had been exchanged, and j)reakfast ordered, " that you are an early riser. 1 would advise you ever to retain that habit ; sipce there are few men without ii, whose progress I believe, is worth men- tioning. For my own part, I wish I could exemplify the rule which I am now recom- mending for your constant observance ; but constitutionally inclined to laziness, 1 am a very late riser in general ;" which was one of those falsehoods, vulgarly termed by casuists Mhite lies, from their innocent tendency, we suppose, and which, trutli to say, this great man was not at all scrupulous in ut- tering. '' Your Lordship's morning dreams," po- litely replied Charles, " may be said, in the words of the first of Italian statesmen, to be better than many mens morning's business." An unexpected compliment which the Earl was evidently too delighted with, to re- ilect, liEAUFORD. 59 fleet, that to be pleased with praises which we know to be undeserved, is a proof of the lowest species of weakness and vanity. " Now Eeauford," said his Lordship, as soon as the breakfast table was removed, and here the air and tone of the great man began to appear, " it is' necessary that I should briefly explain to you the nature of your appointment, and the duties belonging to it. As the station of private secretaiy in the house of Altamont is perfectly that of a gentleman, so, I trust, you will think your salary of five hundred a year, and two horses kept at my sole expence for your use, to be correspondently liberal. The room adjoining your bed chamber is allotted for you, as the place where you will prepare, arrange, and expedite the business of the day. And, as your talents are far above mediocrity, you- need not fear that I shall misemploy them upon trifling matters. On the contrary, I shall even so far honor them, havini? ever delighted to encourage real merit, as to H 2 allo\v 100 IXEAUFORD. allow you to compose my most important po- litical papers and letters ; from a firm con- viction that you will never abuse this un- equivocal mark of my trust and kindness. Here his Lordship, stedfustly fixing his eye upon his auditor, paused for a moment, to see whether this last declaration would produce the effect which he so earnestly desired. How completely it did, Charles proved to him at once, by immediately answering, ** There is nothing, my Lord, that I wish for more earnestl}", than that I may be en- abled to convince you, by my fidelity, my diligence, and my ability, of the deep sense of gratitude which I entertain for the confidence you are disposed to place in me." " Well then," proceeded the cunning pa- tron, " 1 shall expect you here every niorn- inrr at twelve, to take down the heads of the different papers which I shall give you to fill up, in your best style and manner. And as the trust I am about to repose in you will BEAUFORD. 101 \> ill necessarily initiate you into some secrets of the Cabinet, let this maxim sink deep into your mind; — confide in others too little rather than too much. Your employment "vvili be laborious, but you will obtain from it a correct insight into public business of various kinds, and, in time, it may open for you a way into Parliament ; for to get there, I take for granted, is the great object of your ambition. In short, if you realize the ex- pectations I liave formed of your talents, I won't sav how soon I mav do the honors of your parts, to use my Lord Chesterfield's expression, by introducing you into that temple of fame. I have nothing further to add, but tiiat, after the hour of dinner, you may consider yourself, generally speak- ing, as perfect master of your time and actions." Here the conversation ended by his Lord- ship proposing to Charles, that he should mount his horse and accompany him into' the park. As they rode along, Charles ex- patiated IOC BEAUFORD. patiated on its beauties with the taste of an artist, and the skill of a connoisseur. Tor the beauties of nature, however, the Earl, as we have already hinted, had no great re- lish, the study of politics constituting his sole delight ; yet as he was ever solicitous of being thought an enthusiastic admirer of them, he pretended to listen with much satisfac- tion to all which Charles said upon that subject. At his return, Charles passing through the saloon, was met by Lady Emily, who gravely bowing her head, with a freezing sort of po liteness said, " Good morning to you, Sir," and moved on, while her heart whispered that she would fain have retained him in con- versation till her aunt was ready to walk with . her. " Well," said Charles to himself, as lie entered his room, " I have often heard and read of violent prejudices conceived against persons, without any just or apparent cause of dislike, b':t never till this hour could I accredit such B^A'TffO'RD. 103 such accounts. Now, though I aiti satisfied her Ladyship's unfavourable judgment must be wrong, as it is unfounded on any cause, and therefore, philosophers would tell me, ought to afford no uneasiness, yet certainly to be the peculiar object of aversion to the daugh- ter of my patron, is no very enviable lot To be comfortable, therefore, under it, I must think no more of it, and if that be not possible, I must set it down as one of the mortifications incidental to my situa- tion.'' When they were at dinner, he there- fore behaved in a manner, that evinced how very little her Ladyship's studied re- serve to him, occupied or disturbed his thoughts ; which piqued her exceeding- 1}^, as it showed that her conduct failed of interesting him in any way. And at an early hour in the evening he retired to his room, to write to his uncle, sister, and i\Ir. Aimworth ; so that she had no further opportunity of practising a behaviour to- wards him, whicli, if Charles could have seen 104 BFAUFORD seen into the real state of her mind, he '^^ould have discovered to originate ironi far different sensations than those of dislike or aversion. CHAP. CHAP. VI. CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES. A T an early hour the next day, Charles en- tered upon the duties of his new employ- ment, when, having performed the business allotted to him for that morning, he mounted his horse to visit the environs of the park» He had not proceeded far along one of its sylvan rides, wiiea he saw tlie flash of a gun, and iumiediately afterwards heard the screams of a female, whose horse he perceived, on turning to discover from whence J06 BLAUFORD. ^vhence the flash came, had taken friciht at the noise, and was so luriously rearing up, that he just got to her in time to prevent her falling to the ground. In a few mo- ments, an elderly gentleman was by her side, who, when he was satisfied that she was more alarmed than hurt, cried out, " Oh ! Doll, Doll, what's the use of the rambling accounts you are continually giving me about the Grecian and Tartar jockies; as how they could leap from one horse to another when they were on full speed, and could manage them so thoroughly as even to make them bow their bodies to the ground in the same manner as camels are now tauc^ht to kneel. What's all vour theory, Doll, without practice. But I beg pardon, Sir, for not first thanking you as I ought for \ht piece of service you have done this girl. I am George Upgrove of Up- grove Park, a name pretty notorious in this county. And this is my daughter Doll, or, as she calls herself, Dorothy, a devilish clever BEAUFORD. 107 clever girl I assure you, though a damned bad rider, as you see." Here the young lady raised her head, which was reclining upon the arm of Beau- ford, and, slowly folding her hands together, exclaimed, in the most affected manner, ** What blessed ano;el has kind fortune sent to my rescue. In an instant more perhaps I should have been trampled to death by that odious beast." She then stopped, and fain would have blushed upon looking at. Charles, if the rouge on her cheek had permitted her to do so, when she asked to whom she was under so great an obli- gation. " My name is Beauford," said Charles; " and I shall consider it as a fortunate incident in my life, that I have been able to render you this trifling piece of ser- vice." '' Call it not trifling I entreat you. Sir," replied Miss Upgrove, who the more she stared at Charles's countenance, the more she admired it, " when, if it had not been -5 for 108 BKAUFORD. for your timely gallant interposition, I might have been stretched a corpse upon the ground." Now this last expression the lady certainly meant for a very pathetic one, but which appeared almost ludricous to Charles, from the theatrical tone in which it was pronounced, and from the manner in whicli she was disposed to let her apprehen- sions magnify the extent of her past danger. *' Come, come Doll," rejoined the father, " you had not such a hair-breadth escape either. You talk as if you had been soused head and ears into a pond, or rolled over a precipice, instead of having gently slided off your horse into that gentleman's arms. But see, here is the cause of your and Swift- sure's fright." At this instant one of Karl Altamont's gamekeepers approached with Mr. Upgrove's servant, leading Swiftsure ; while the former humbly begged pardon for havin" frightened the ladv ; and told them tiiat he was prevented from seeing them, as he fn'ed his piece off in the coppice. This BEAUFORD. J 09 This explanation being perfectly satisfac- tory to ]\Ir. Upgrove, and Charles deeming his assistance no further necessary, as Miss Upgrove insisted upon walking to the house, prepared to take his leave ; when the old gentleman giving him a hearty shake by the hand, said, " We shall soon see you again, as I suppose by meeting you here, that you are on a visit to my Lord." *' I am Earl Altamont's private Secre- tary," replied Charles, " and hope on my return to find Miss Upgrove perfectlv reco- vered from the effects of her accident" So saying, he made a low bow to her, mounted his horse, and pursued his ride. Squire Upgrove, as he was usually called, was one of those country gentlemen, w^ho, inheriting a laro;e estate ^vhich his ancestors had immemorially possessed, consume three parts of their existence in farming, hunting, drinking, and sleeping. He was, however, from his birth and fortune, certainly not from his capacity, made one of the legislators of his country. But though he had sat ia no BEAUFORD. in Parliament twenty years, yet he never once opened his mouth, as he had too much modesty to talk of what he did not under- 3tand. His element was a fox-chace or a race course ; where he gave laws with iu- linite ski!l and ability. By his rustic neigh- bours he was called a very knowing man, and by his equals a very hospitable one. He was therefore admired by the former, and endured by the latter. Miss Dorothea, or as her father to her (n-eat mortification, persisted to style her Doll or Dolly, wished to be thought as fond of the Belles Lettres, as she really was of dress, equipage, balls and compliments. But, like many other great geniuses, she grasped at more than she could embrace, she attempted more than she could execute. Having, however, a full share of that useful qualification, assurance, and plenty of puft'ers to assert her claims to accomplishments of all kinds, the liberal and accommodatins world save her credit for those talents which it never would have discovered, had she not been been the only daughter of the rich Squire Upgrove. As the Squire walked along with his daughter, he vehemently expatiated upon the many excellent qualities of Swiftsure, and maintained that the whole stud of my Lord could not produce a more gentle and beautiful animal ; while she assented to all his remarks upon this subject in a manner, that micrht have shown him with the smallest p-3netration, how fuUy occupied her thoughts were upon the charming stranger. Upon approaching the house, Aliss Upgrove sud- denly exclaimed, ** See yonder, Papa, i$ Lady Emily and her aunt going to the Thornery ; — let me hasten to join them ;' when she hurried off without waiting for his reply. This sequestered spot, which Lady Emily> termed the Thornery, from the wild scenery around it, was about half a mile from the house. The walk that led to it, \yound jthrough a plantation just thick enough to ejv elude surrounding objects, yet admitting a soft 112 BEAUFORD. soft and chequered light, the effect of which was highly pleasing to the eye. In this fa- vorite retreat a rustic building was erected, in which her Ladyship had her harp, draw- ing and painting materials, and a small cabinet containing a selection of Eui^lish, French and Italian books. The two ladies had scarcely reached this spot of perfect retirement when they were overtaken by Miss Upgrove, who as soon as she ha^^ given her hand to each, exclaimed to Lady Emily, *^ Oh, my dear friend, such an adventure I have met with this morning, that I shall be able to think of nothing else at least for this fortnight. Oh, the fascinat- ing youth ! But not to keep you longer in suspense, know then. Papa, who, 1 verily believe, if left to himself, would perform all the duties of life on horseback, determined that I should mount Swiftsure this morning instead of my barouche. We had not qome far down the avenue which brinies us to Beaumont, when the report of a gun occa- sioned my horse to plunge and rear prodi- giously, ^EAUtOltD. 113 gbusly. A few minutes before, Papa had stopt to speak to some farming man, and the groom remained with him ; so that they might have as well been in London for any assistance they could render me. While I remained then in this terrible predicament, a young man darted from the wood, as it were by a stroke of magic, and in an instant was by my side, conjuring me to throw myself into his arms. I did as he requested ; for Sure never did I see one whose " Here Miss Upgrove checked herself for a moment, thinking she had said too much,* but instantly returned to the subject, by desiring Lady Emily to tell her all about him. " I have often found," said her Ladyship, smiling, ** your hand-writing to be as diffi" cult to decypher as hieroglyphics ; but now I think your speech is not less so ; for ho\y Is it possible, that I can gratify your cu-* riosity about a person whose name, my dear, has not yet once fell from your lips." VOL. I. I " Oh, 1 14 BEAUFORL». " Oh, there can be but one such interest- ing being;" replied Mi:>s Upgrove " in the whole county." " And wlio is he pray," asked Lady Emily. " Why, who else can it be," answered Miss Upgrove, " but your lather's Secre- tary." Lady Emily's face was instantly suffused with blushes ; yet mustering all the w^oman in her, she endeavQured to conceal them by pretending to adjust a part of her dress, and hastily saying, " Oh, I know nothing about him.- — My aunt is best able to speak con- cerning that gentleman." Upon which Lady Meeresfield, with more than usual anima- tion, replied, being not a little angry with the unjust prejudice which she conceived her. niece had taken against Charles, " If you think, Miss Upgrove, that Mr, Beauford excels all whom you have seen in the graces of his countenance and person, I will ven- ture to predict, upon further acquaintance, you will be so much delighted vvith his mind and BtAUF0Ul5. llJ and manners, as to think tliat hardly any commendation is equal to his praise. So have a care," laughingly, added her Lady- ship, " that you do not surrender your heart, before you are sure of making a complete conquest in return." /' And can, Lady Emily, the all-accom^ plished Lady Emily," sarcastically observed Miss Upgrove, who had seen her blush at the mention of Beauford, but would not pretend to notice it, " be so deficient in taste and discernment, as to know nothing of a young man upon whom her aunt has passed so high an encomium ?" To this remark. Lady Emily thought it- most adviseable to make no reply ; but aftei* striking a few chords upon her harp, turned the conversation, by asking Miss Upgrove, what title her late governess meatit to gW her forthcoming novel. " Oh, she does not mean,'* replied Mi&'j? Upgrove. " to introduce it into the world by the name of a novel, because prejudice^ which, she says, is more powerful thatf I 2 reason. 116 BEAUFORD. reason, would then pronounce it unfit for the inspection of the young of both sexes.'* " A name or a word," replied Lady Meeresfield, " certainly has a mighty in- fluence over the understandings of the weak and ignorant ; for whatever ideas, however ill-founded, they are originally taught to associate with that name, con- tinue to sway them through life. In the days of my youth, for instance, a general notion prevailed, that novels were bad things for young persons. And even at this period, you will still find many who are tolerably enlightened upon other points, retaining their antipathy against novels, as tenaciously as their estates. Now such persons, if you asked them whether they ever read this or that novel, would make you the same reply as Doctor Glcbmore did to me yesterday, when I asked his opi- moii of Doddrige's Rise and Progress of- the Soul, ** that he durst say the book had a vast deal of merit; but he- never read dissenting books.'* " Let therefore a novel be beauford: 117 be calculated to do ever so much good; to instruct and embellish life, and only bear that proscribed title, it is sure to be abused by those Avhose prejudice against the best novels proceeds, not from having read them imperfectly, but because they have not read them at all." " I suppose then," said Lady Emily, " to that cause it may be imputed, that so few persons of superior genius have given way to a propensity for this branch of litera- ture, which otherwise they would not have resisted." " Yet I have been told," said Miss Unsrove, '* that the number of novels an- nually published^ in England, is greater than in all the other countries of Europe put together." ** That I believe is the case," replied Lady Meeresfield ; " but why a well edu- cated woman, at Paris, for example, now professes to say, that she never read one novel in her life ; and that her leisure hours are engrossed with geography, voyages, and history, history, is to be attributed to their having few such works as those of Richardson, Moore, Burney, and Edgevvorth ; writers who convey instruction with amusement, ^nd who, perhaps, have inculcated more liberal and just ideas upon the public, than could have been supplied by an host of exhortations upon moral philosopliy. In- stead, however, of such publications, Paa'is, I understand, abounds with those pernicious works of imagination, which corrupt and ' debase the female mind, and render it un- qualified for the real business and duties of life." *^ In your prai^ of Moore, Burney, and Edgeworth, I readily join," said Miss Up- grove; '' but I must confess, though I sup* pose I am uttering a sort of literary high treason, that the novels of Richardson never failed to produce in me the symptoms of heavier reading. Their perusal was more a duty than pleasure : just as 1 have gone through Milton's Paradise Lost, and Spen- ser's Fairy Queen. Richardson's good people arc BEAUFORD. 119 are all too formal for me. In his most admired production, Sir Charles Grandison, the long speeches, or rather sermons, the bows, compliments, and unalterable com- posure of that personage, are what, if I met with in any novel writer of the present day, I should set down as so many specimens of absolute dulness. Then too the intolerable length and minute detail of his incidents. Why, they make me yawn as much as if I had been an actual spectator of them." *^ Yet, with all his prolix descriptions and fatiguing discourses," answered Lady Meeres- field, " what novel writer has traced the human passions with more consummate skill than Richardson ? Who can be called a Painter of Nature, it he cannot." " I do not deny that he is so," rejoined Aliss Upgrove. " But as a great French genius said in reading his works, La 7mture est bonne (i imiter, rnais non pas jusgud rennuL' " For my part," said Lady Emily, " while I admit that there is too grave and sombre a colouring J 20 BEAT FORD. colouring in most of the virtuous cliaiacters of Richardson, tliat they are deficient in ease and vivacity; tliat-many of their prejudices -are ludicrous^ and tliat he sometimes makes his most refined personages speak the lan- guage of the vulgar, yet he Avill ever remain one of my cliief favorites. In Sir Charles Grandison, every one, I think, must ac- knowledge the hand of the master in un- ravelling all the delicate and subtle turn- ings of the heart, and in painting the passions. Two or three of the scenes be- tween Clementina and Sir Charles are, in my humble opinion, unrivalled for their exquisite moral sensibility, I had almost ^dded, and for their genuine sublimity. And though there may be too much of the veille cour about Sir Charles to please the present taste, yet I can't help regarding him as a model for a finished gentleman." '' Well," said JMiss Upgrove, " I do allow that Sir Charles does not mope me quite so much as Pamela, who, in spite of ^11 that is said about her virtuous indcr pendence. BEAUFORD. 121 pendenco of mind, certainly married ^Ir. B. " for the gilt coach and dappled Flanders mares^' or, as Clarissa^ with her odious early rising, constant orisons, and abomina- ble quantity of needlework." " Yet," replied Lady Emily, laughing, " notwithstandinc]^ all these formidable ob- jections, I must prefer the novels of Richardson to anv of those which beloni^ to the German or New School, with all their shadowy apparitions, nocturnal voices, echoing footsteps, haunted castles, and long passages. When the eye aches in poring over these prodigies and terrors which are pre- sented to us on every side, it is quite refreshing to open a volume of Richardson, where, instead of ideal beings in situations equally ideal, we meet with them placed in those circumstances which experience might justify, and real life allow." " I should be sorry, indeed," said Lady Meeresfield, *' that your taste led you to delight in any of those wonderful produc- tions ; since that hardly deserves to be called IS'S BEAU FORD. called a good novel, which is not subservient to the purposes of truth and good morals. Now all Richardson's are ; and a sufficient time has elapsed to make them seen in their proper form, unsupported by any other re- coaiuiendation than v.hat their intrinsic ex- cellence has bestowed upon them." While they were conversing on this sub- ject, one of Lady Emily's footmen came to say, th.at Sir Christopher Martman, his Lady and daughter had alighted from their car- riage, and waited to see them. ^' Pray, Lady Meeresfield, is it true,'* asked Miss Upgrove, as they walked to the houfe, *' that Sir Christopher made his great fortune as a Manchester trader." " Exactly so," answered her Ladyship, " by that means he purchased a borough, and afterwards procured a baronetcy." " He is monstrously diverting, I think," replied Miss Upgrove, " in his ways of acting and talking. Was there ever too a more pretended despiser of aristocracy, and a more real lover of it. And -;f^t the pride of BEAUFOIID. 123 of his purse makes him insolent to all those whom he thinks to be his inferiors in wealth." " Then few," said Lady Meeresfield, " can escape it, as he is one of those people who reckon every thing poverty that is under a hundred thousand pounds." " His affectation also of good breeding,'' replied Miss Upgrove, " involves him in a thousand vulgarities and absurdities which he otherwise would have avoided, if he could be ojily content to pass for what he really is, a plain, plodding, aukward humdrum sort of man." " And yet," said Lady Emily, " because he will give his vote which way my father chuses, we must admit him low, and low bred as he is, into our society, and treat him and his family as our equals." " That must ever be the case," replied her aunt, " in a free and commercial country, like this." " What think you also of his wife and daughter," said Miss Upgrove. *^ Are not they 124 r>EAUFORD. they a jmir of originals ? My Lady, with all the starch primness and solemn conceit of a qnaker, drawling out the few words she utters with the lengthened accent of a Barbadian Creole ; — and who thinks it beneath the dig- nity of a Baronet's Lady to move a muscle of her face upon any occasion whatsoever. Then too, IMiss Margaret O, gemini, what a contrast ! 1 never see her enter a room but I think of the days when I used to play puss in the corner ; or, hunt the whistle. So jumping, so skipping, so fluttering about is she, and so like a girl at a breaking up." In this manner did Miss Upgrove run on, till they entered the house, ^^ here they found Sir Christopher in earnest conversation with my Lord, who was just then saying some very civil things to him, as he soon wanted his influence in the county upon a certain occasion, Lady IMartman mute and immove- able, and Miss Margaret bawling out, that she would mark the game of billiards if she could, which the Squire \vas playing with Charles, who had not long returned from his ride. BEAU FORD. 12i lide. At their appearance, the conversation became general, and continued so till the visitors took their leave Miss Upgrove, however, did not let slip the opportunity of saying to Charles at her departure, " Mr. Beauford, I hope we shall see you frequently at Upgrove Hall ; when, if you should find me dull and stupid, I trust," she laughingly added, " that you will have the candor and justice to impute it to the wish of not affect- ing the singularity of being thought unlike any of my neighbours." tHAP. CHAP. VII. La devotion des femmes qui commencent, a vieillir n'est souveiit qu'im etat dc bicnseaiicc, pour sauver la honte et la ridicule du debris de leur beaui6, et se lendrc toujours recommcndablcs pour quelque chose, llOCIIEiOUCAUlT. Charles had now passed some weeks at Beechwood Court, and though he had fre- quent opportunities of seeing and conversing -^vith Lady Emily, yet after they had ex- changed the compHments of the day, they seemed, as it were by mutual compact, to observe a total silence to each other. Every succeeding day Charles thought, that she was, if possible, more cold, haughty, and re- setved BEAUFOUD. l!^7 served to liim ; and so deeply impressed was he with this notion, that he had taui^ht him- self to look upon her in tlie same manner as he would have contemplated a beautiful pic- ture or statue. Accustomed to have her words, looks, and motions, eagerly watched by so many young men of rank and fashion, Lady Emily's pride was excessively morti- fied, that a person in Charles's situation should see her go out and come into a room, us unheeded as if she was an object of atten- tion to no one about her. Nor could she less tolerate the idea, of being thought by Charles unable to support the dignity of her rank by her mental accomplishments, although pride and resentment equally prevented her from making any display of them before him. These reflections, however un pleading, would not have kept her Ladyship's mind m a state of almost perpetual agitation, if she had not secretly felt that an attachment, in spite of all her efforts to resist it, was gradually gaininj^ upon her, for an object, whose ordinary beha- viour, 128 BEAUFORD* vioar, in every circumstance towards herj Ihovved, at least, tlie most perfect indifference. For, in those evening conversations, which her aunt was so fond of drawing Ciiarles into, she would sit near them,' pretending to be busily occupied in reading or drawing ; and it was at those times, she thought him the best bred, the best informed, and the most engaging of men. The talent, genius, feel- ing, and animation which Ciiarles occa- sionally displayed, while he thus freely gave himself to Lady Meeresiield, became every time more interesting to Lady Emily as they developed themselves, and as they were united with an uncommon elegance of face and per- son, no wonder that she could not resist the force of those impressions. Alarmed at these feelings, she endeavoured to suppress them^ by the recollection of his mferior birth and situation, his total indifference to her, and and the insurmountable barrier to their union, from the family pride of her father, greater, if possible, than her own ; — and who^ would rather, she knew, see her dead, thart BEAUFORD. 129 the wife of his secretary. Yet, whenever she Mas in his company, all these considerations, earnest as she was to cherish them, were ba- nished from her thoughts. One morning, while her mind was thus fluc- tuating between her rcQ-ard for, and deternii^ nation to be more distant than ever to Beau- ford, in consequence of his increased wish, as she conceived, to shun her society, the name of Mrs. Eaglehurst was announced, and in the next moment this lady entered her boudoir. '^ This is an agreeable surprise, my dear madam," said Lady Emily, hastily rising and embracing her, " when my last letter found you indisposed, and resolute not to leave Clieshire, at least for some months, to see you now well, and prepared, I hope, to stay some time at Beechwood. *' After that letter," replied Mrs. Eagle- hurst, " 3^ou may be well astonished at this sudden visit ; but every thing you know with, me, my dear, gives way to the calls of friend- ship. J\ly relation Seymour, being on the point of accompanying her husband in Im VOL. I, K diplomatic ISO BEAU FORD. diplomatic mission, and having expressed a strong ^vish to sec me before she went, I could not refuse the summons. Being half- way then on my jroad to Beechwood, I tliOLif^ht you would take it unkind that I did not sliape my course hither ; and need I add, that your Eaglehurst could not be the cause, of overspreading that charming countenance with disappointment. ^/;r<9/?(><9 of charming, though not of our sex. Your aunt tells me, that my Lord's new secretary is as handsome as he is clever. — Pray is it so ?" Here Mrs. Eaglehurst ri vetted her eyes upon Lady Emily, as if she would read her very soul, perceiving that she was so visibly disconcerted by this 7nal-opropGs question, as to be under the necessity of turning to the window for a moment to hide her confusion; but recovering herself in some degree, she an- swered in a faltering voice, conscious how much she was disguising her real sentiments, *' I believe Air. Beauford is generally thought to be handsome, but I have seen features which BEAUFORD. 13} are more pleasing to me, though sepai'ately they might not be so good." ** How long, my dear," said Mrs. Eagle- hurst in that careless manner, as if she took little concern in the question, " have you become such a proficient in the art of phy- siognomy." " I did not know," replied her Ladyship, " that it required the skill of a Lavater, to make the distinction which I have just now done." " Oh certainly not," said Mrs. Eagle- hurst, " Indeed I should be sorry if you had any predilection for an art, which sometimes may greatly mislead us. But I am all im- patience to be introduced to Mr. Beauford ; for, whimsical enough to say, I have had his sister for some time under my protection, and yet have never seen him." Here Lady Emily, glad of an opportunity to show her friend that she was in no way in- terested about Charles, answered, ** I did not know that Mr. Beauford had a sister ; K ^ but 132 BEAU FORD. but how should I indeed : for though he has been ^^ith us for some weeks, yet our con- versations have never extended beyond the common incidents of the da3^" *' And a most fascinating creature, ]\liss Beauford is, I assure you," replied Mrs. Eadehurst. " Then I suppose," said her Ladyship, *' she is vcrv much like her brother." These words had no sooner escaped her lips, than aware of their import, she instantly added, ^' I meant to have said, that this is the conclusion my aunt would have directly drawn, as ]\Ir. Beauford has already become a prodigious favorite with her." " I am happy to hear it," replied Mrs. Eaglehurst, suppressing a smile, '^ as it so ckarlxf appears that lie cannot boast of being one of yours." This remark tended not a little to increase the embarrassment which her Ladyship yet laboured under, in consequence of what she had before uttered ; but as it did not at present suit the purposes of Mrs. Eaglehurst to offer any comment upon it, she BEAUFORD. 133 she continued her discourse by saying, " that the uncle of Mr. Beauford was a gentleman, for whom she entertained the highest respect, and yet it had so happened, though she had now intimately known Mr. Colebrooke for three years, insomuch that to her care he h^d committed his niece when he left the king- dom on account of the ill state of his health that her visits had always been made at his house, when his nephew was pursuing his studies at Oxford. Nor did she discover till the other day, that it was her protegee's brother who had obtained the appointment of secretary to his Lordship." " And pray where is Miss Beauford now ?'* inquired Lady Emily. At this unexpected question, Mrs. Eagle- hurst hesitated and coloured, but drawing her chair nearer to her Ladyship, after a short pause said, '^ To your ear I can whisper the most important secret, without reserve or limitation ; convinced that the most implicit reliance can be placed in your discretion, know then, that the lively, the assiduous, the 134 BEAUFORD. gallant, and universally agreeable Oswald, for so I am told my son is called in the most fashionable societies, (by the bye, if I could be angry with you for any thing, I should for not having yet asked after Oswald,) came to tne just a few days before I had taken charge of Miss Beaufordj when unfortunately mis- taking his civilities and attentions for proofs of regard, she conceived a most serious passion for him. As soon as I found the poor creature ate little, sighed from morning till night, and was pining her very soul away in secret, I thought it most adviseable for her future peace of mind, to remove her at once to my cousin, ]\Irs. Dudley's, in York- shire, under the plea that a law suit obliged Tne to accompany my son immediately to town, where I should be under the disagree- tible necessity of remaining with him some tiilae. For, as to marrying Oswald, even if the passion had been reciprocal, to a girl of no fortune or family — Oh ! the vi^ry idea is quite ishockinfj." *' No," added Mrs. Eadehurst, giving at the same time a most significant look 3 J^EAUFORD. 135 look to her Ladyship, " I hope the time is not far distant, when the most amiable and bewitchinof of her sex will become more sen- sible of my son's attractions." These broad hints Mrs. Eadehurst had of late been much in the habit of giving ; but finding that the person for whom they were intended, never received them with a worse grace than at this moment, she wisely put an end to the conversation at once, by retiring to her own apartment, under the pretence of having let- ters to address to several persons. Mrs. Eadehurst was the widow of a cousin of Earl Akamont, who died very opportunely when his purse was quite empty, and he had no visible means of replenishing it. For- tunately however for her, a distant relation died soon after that event, and left her only son, then an infant, a handsome fortune; allotting out of it a genteel provision for the support of tlie mother. In her youth, Mrs. Eaglehurst had been celebrated for her beauty; but that had long disappeared. From the desire, however, of being always distin- ]36 BKAl'l-ORD. d'istincjiiisbed, when sh? ceased to he admired for her personal charms, slie turned devotee. Now thouf^h she was no advocate for the iiif quisition, or dreaded popery as much as she hated it, yet certainly she was the least of a latitudifiarian in her religious principles, that coLikl well be imag;ined ; — for she set down every one as a heretic, who did not follow her creed, and believed them as much fated to eternal perdition, as a Mussulman does all those who deny the infallible autliority of the Koran. Yet, because she was invariably seen at church twice on a Sunday, never paid or received visits on that day, now and then popped in her head upon the sick, the poor, and the aged, and occasionally quoted scrip- ture, she passed for a pattern of piety and goodness among her neighbours and ac- quaintance. But truth to say, this pious and good lady was a consummate hypocrite ; since siie really no more valued those qualities than as they con- tributed to promote her secular views. For had not the show of religion especially enabled her EEAUFORD. 137 her to obtain a great ascendancy over the mind of Earl Altamont, she would have cast it off as easily as she did one of her old dresses. Among that great man's peculiarities, there \vas one which we have not yet enumerated, iiis excessive apprehension of death ; inso- much that every thing which reminded him he was not immortal, produced a sur- prising depression of spirits. To such a pitch did he carry this apprehension, that the sight of a funeral never failed to excite emotions so painthl, that he could not shake them off till long after he had conceived them. Now, from a very intimate acquaintance, and a close study of his domestic character, Mrs. Eaglehurst had discovered this weak- ness and some others, which his Lordship had flattered himself were concealed from all human eyes. But, as it was no common be- nefit she had fixed her mind upon reaping from him, so, to attain it no common share of his esteem and confidence was requisite. The contempt of life and death, in circum- stances of external prosperity, she well knew, secretly 138 BEAUfOUD. secretly obtained his highest adinirdtion. This artful woman, therefore, affected to unite with these the most serious and deeply im- pressed sentiments of religion, together witli the completest love of truth, justice, bene- volence, and self-denial ; and so well had she imposed upon my Lord in those respects, that he thought her in his heart the only real and proper object of admiration he had met with in all his life. And, as she likewise took the most favorable opportunities of art- fully touching upon those parts of his public character, upon which, it was evident to her, that he chiefly delighted to hear himself praised, he entertained as high an opinion of her discernment, as he did of her merit Upon several domestic occasions, there- fore, especially in two or three overtures which had been made for the hand of his daughter, my Lord was more influenced by the subtle manoeuvres of Mrs. Eaglchurst, than by the plain good sense of his sister. To one, Mrs. Eaglehurst professed to regard his irregularities ; to another, his want of dignity ; beAuford. 139 dignity; and to a third, his violence of tem- per, as obstacles to' the honor of becoming his Lordship's son-in-law. And as these several objections were stated with an air of the most disinterested candour, and with the assurance, that having nothing more deeply at heart than the future happiness of Lady Emily, she had not failed to make the mi- nutest enquiries respecting the private virtues or vices of those vrho aspired to be so inti- mately allied with the house of Altamont, they were sure of producing the desired effect. By such methods, and by frequent hints to his Lordship of the tremendous un- certainty of happiness in the marriage state, if any one of the grand essentials in it were overlooked, she not only contrived to break off several suitable matches for his daughter, but even to bring him to think, contrary to his former wish of having her early wedded, that it was best, perhaps, a few years more should pass over her head, before she gave her hand to any one. But, for what did this woman forsake the broad path of truth and 140 BEAUFO^D. and honesty, for the bye-turnings and ob- liquities) of deception and meanness, and set at nought every honorable feeling? Why, for an object, who, could all have been directly gained which she sought for by her deep and infamous arts, would have thought she had obtained but a trifle, which was scarce worth regarding. Mr. Oswald Eaglehurst, the peculiar a,nd darling care of his mother ever since he came into the world, was one of those self-conceited, idle, opinionated, but good humoured sprigs of fashion, whose highest ambition it w as to be thought dashing and tasteful by the ladies, and whose greatest glory it was to figure at a ball. Enamoured with his own person, which really was neither graceful nor handsome, he felt no sort of envy or jealousy, if you praised before him any of his acquaintance for their superior intellectual acquirements ; — but the moment you talked in commendation of their features or shape, he became restless and uneasy, and always took care, before lie went bYauford. 141 went, to hint, in terms not easily to be mis- taken, that the general opinion in that respect was decidedly in his favour. He %vas so completely devoid of all political ambition, or of becoming a great man, in the common acceptation of the word, that when Earl Al- tamont made him an offer of a seat in Par- liament, he answered, '^ Bien oblige, my Lord ; but, 'pon honor, I cannot sacrifice my blooming complexion for the good of the nation. Why, if I had to attend the House, even for a short session, ten to one I sliould look as yellow and cadaverous as any judge or counsellor in Westminster Hall. ]My place in the senate may be very easily sup- plied, but in the beau monde, I flatter myself, the thing is not quite so easy." Such was the inconsiderate creature wlio Mrs. Eaglehurst had secretly destined for the husband of Lady Emily. Little did she think to what unprolitable uses her aspiring rest- less duplicity for him would be converted. For, like many other scheming people, \\ ho in laying their designs, never dream that they 142 trAUForv©. tliev iTjfiy be frustrated by the person who Is fi>:ed upon to thrive by them ; so ^Irs. Eaij^lehurst, taking it for granted that her son "would believe hiuiseh at the summit of hu- man felicity, in the possession of Lady Emily, never once thought of asking him how he was affected towards her ; but heaped stratagem upon stratagem, mana3uvre upon manceuvrc, to keep off all pretendesr, in the hopes at last of being able to surprise her son, with the joyful news of my Lord giving a willing consent to their union. Whereas, if she could only have divested herself for a mo- ment of th2L,i Jinesse which pervaded all her conduct, and simply asked her son, whether he should not deem himself the happiest of beings, if he could obtain the hand of Lady Emily, he would have saved her from the most humiliating and mortifying of all re- flections, the remembrance of having em- ployed her sycophant and infamous arts in vain, by telling her at once, that she was too cold, stiff, and high for him, and not for the sake of any fortune or earldom to boot, would BEAUFORD. 143 •would he marry one whom he did not love, and whom he could not like. Under a very contrai^ persuasion, how- ever, Mrs. Eaglehurst had methodized her plans. For, after she had taken charge of ]\Iiss Beauford, at the request, as we have intimated, of ]\Ir. Golebrooke, whom she really did respect, since, by a singular in- consistency in her character, she could ad- mire that integrity and virtue in others, to w hich she had not the courage to fashion her own conduct and behaviour, she becran soon to suspect, from some expressions which fell from Oswald, that her visitor engrossed more of his thoughts and notice than she wished. To prevent Oswald, therefore, from bein"^ too deeply smitten with the charms of her young companion, whom the last and only time he saw, was as a lively girl just burst- ing from childhood, she lost no time in removing her to Mrs. Dudley's seat in York- shire. Nor had Mrs. Eaglehurst the least difficulty in cftecting this separation, and preservins;, 144 EEAUFORD. presei vincr, at the same time, the friendship of her fair guest ; us, aware of the delicacy and proper sense of pride in iVJiss Beau ford, she knew she had only lo hint her apprehen- sions of Oswald's incipient attachment for her, and she would be eaGjer to embrace any proposal that could be suggested, for tiie effectual suppression of it. This then was done bv Mrs Ea^lchurst; and as she ex- pected, ^liss Beauford was all inipatience to be with Mrs. Dudley, whom she had met once in company, and was much pleased with her frauxk and agreeable manners. At part- inii, Mrs. Eadehurst said a thousand affec- tionate things to her, and assured her, that as soon as ever her volatile son set off for town, she should lose no time in hastening to embrace her; in short, she acted her part so well, that Miss Beauford would have .thougliti herself the mo hiijh encomiums upun liis merit, and styled him the Prince of the 172 BEAUFORD. the new comedy, and likewise from t'.e fragments which yet remain of him." ** Are there many of those fragniCnts," asked Lady INIeerestield ? " Out of the hundred and eighty come- dies, which he is said to have wiitten," an- swered Doctor Glebmore, " only a few- specimens are left. '' I tliink, Doctor," said his Lordship, " that the Emperor Augustus preferred the old comedy." '' lie did so, my Lord," replied the Doctor ; '' but I cannot applaud his taste." " His taste, however," said Charles, *' strange as it may now seem to us for any one, to set Plautus above Terence, Aristophanes above Menander, did not differ from one, who was otherwise possessed of the utmost niceness of discrimination and delicacy of feeling. Cicero expresses in de- cided terms his admiration of the coarse wit of the old comedy." n I am BEAU FORD. 17^ *' 1 am not surprised at his partiality in that respect," said his Lordship, " since, if my memory is good, corporal defects were oftentimes a topic of raillery with that orator." *^ Yes, my Lord," replied Charles, " a low stature, an ugly face, a distorted chin, or a lon2[ nose, are enumerated amons: the legitimate sources of ridicule by Cicero, whose jokes certainly but ill-accord with the general elesjance of his mind. But there were other causes your Lordship must be aware, w hich led to that deviation from civi- lity and good manners." ** I should like to hear what they are,'* said the Doctor, with a sort of sarcastic sneer, which shewed he doubted if any other could be mentioned. " The originally free and popular govern- ments of Greece and Rome," said Ciiarles. " These, by placing all the citizens on an equal footing, left them to pursue their humourS; without any fear or of personal offence, ^^hich I take to be the strongest restraint 174 BEAU FORD. restraint upon the licentiousness of ridi- cule. The orators therefore had only to pay court to the soxfcrei^yn people, and they could be amused only with strokes of broad mirth. While, from the long established habit of doing so, they imbibed as strong a relish for the gross banter, and buffoon pleasantry as the people themselves. And it was not till after the Augustan age, when absolute power imposed fetters upon tlie licentiousness of the populace, that the ur- banity and fine propriety of oMenander began to be universally felt and admired." '^ It is indeed to be lamented," said Lady IMeeresfield, '* from \^hat you have said about this applauded writer, that the hand of time has not spared one of his perform- ances." " Some of the plays of Terence, if I mis- take not, Doctor Glebmore," said Mr. Fea- therweight, cautiously avoiding to address himself to Charles, " are supposed to be direct translations from Mcnander." " They 1 '^ A BEAUFORD. i7C> *' Tbey are," replied the Doctor ; " but we may learn at once how unequal he wa:s to his great oiiginal, when Caisar styled him dimidiate Aleiiander,'' " And yet," said his Lordship, " it moves my wonder, that a people so gay, lively, and witty, as the Athenians are represented, should become so enamoured with the satur- nine and morose genius of Menander.'' '* I imagine, my Lord," said the Doctor, " that it was the strict decorum and amiable modesty he introduced into his comedies, that caused him to be the reigning favorite of the Grecian stage. For in the comedies which appeared before the time of Menan- der, ^ the liberty then was taken of calling those persons by their names, who were de- signed to be held up to public ridicule. Socrates was often attacked in that man- ner. When, however, this matchless effron- tery fired so many with indignation, the Athenians passed a law which put a stop to that intolerable practice. Lut, aUhough the comedians were thus restrained from induli^in^i 176 BEAUFORD. iiidulninii themselves in their former free- doms by a positive law, .yet, to gratify the untutored mob, they invented masks, which bore such an exact resemblance to the per- sons on whom they designed to joke, that an- swered the same effect as if they had called them by their names. This usage being deemed no less scandalous than the former, was abolished by another law of the Athe- nians, which enacted, that no one should be joked on the stage by the exhibition of their faces. The correct taste of ]\ienandcr had recourse to no such low expedients to amuse his audience, and therefore he wa.*; hailed by all the discerning ancients as the Reformer of their stage.'* *' You will recollect, Doctor," said Charles, *^ that when Menander wrote, the liberties 'of Greece were crushed by the aspiring genius of Philip, and the stage refmed accordingly. But whatrendcrcd thatpoet sopeculiarlytheidolof his countrymen, was the inimitable elegance of his coujic humour; for, by a singular in- justice of fortune, those parts of his volumi- nous 3EAUF0RD. 177 nous works, which chiefly marked his original genius, have not gone down to posterity, but only those parts which entitle him to take his place as one of the most sarcastic, melan- choly, and moral poets of his country ; while his great characteristic excellence, which filled his auditors with so much admiration and delight, appears from the unanimous testimony of his pontemporaries, to have been his brilliant gaiety and fancy, and his graceful but hiofh humour." Now this last observation of Beauford's, as it shewed his Lordship to be so completely ignorant of the real ground of the preference given by the Athenians to their m itty coun» trymen, ruffled his temper so much, that a person of less ordinary discernment might have perceived it; for though the Earl was so perfect an adept in concealing bis feel- ings and disguising his passions from his equals, yet he was not at all 30 disposed to accommodate himself to his inferiors. At a loss, however, that moment, in what way to vent his displeasure upon Charles, he VOL, J. N broke 178 BEAUFOKD. broke up the conversation, by giving a look at his bister for the ladies to withdraw. Presently afterwards they were joined by the gentlemen , and when they had taken their coffee, the visitors rang for their carriages, and took their leave. As the Squire was standing on the steps of the great hall, waiting for the coming up of his ' carriage, Mr. Featherw^eight came and said, *' You have not forgotten, ]\Ir. Upgrove, that you have honoured me with the appellation of a fool before the whole company. I shall, however, overlook that affront, as I can pretty well guess the vexation you felt at having accepted my offer." ** What," exclaimed the Squire, impetu- ously interrupting him, " Do you think Til part with Sultan for sixty guineas? Ill see you damned first." " I perceive you will oblige me at last," coolly replied Mr. Featherweight, " to teach you good manners. But, Mr. Upgrove, if you don't ratify tliat bargain, I shall take the BEAUFOIID. 179 the liberty of sending a friend to wait upon you, to settle the business. You understand me. In the mean time, I have ordered my groom to attend you home, and he will pay you sixty guineas upon the delivery of the horse." So saying, he made him a low bow, and wished him a very good nicr'it. N 2 CHAF. CHAP. IX. THE BALL. OME few days after this grand dinner, Charles rode over to Upgrove Hall, to pay a morning visit to the Squire. He found him just returned from coursing, and liberally using some of the polite phrases which arc to be found in the Sportsman's VocabularVy in consequence of his favorite dog being de- tected in lurching. Miss Upgrove soon made her appearance, when the Squire, finding the conversation likely to take a turn that was to him no ways interesting, left BEAUFORD. 181 left the room, under the pretence of giving some 'orders to his game-keeper, which he had forgotten. " Oh ! Mr. Beauford,"' ex- claimed Miss Upgrove, as soon as her father had shut the door, *' Your visit is most op- portune; for I am horridly out of humour, and never more wished for an aijreeable ttte a tete in all my life." " May, I presume to ask ;" said Charles lialf laughing, " what lamentable occurrence in this scene of many coloured life has sub- jected you to a malady w hich foreigners only ascribe to the influence of fogs, or the phy- sical effects of sea-coal fires r" " A horse," replied IVIiss Upgrove, " a horse has been the cause of my labouring ever since I saw you, but in vain, to re^ store my father to his good tem.per. But listen to the tale of my extreme discomfort. The moon was up, you know, or at least are to know, when we returned from Beechwood, which enabled me, soon after I had stepped into the carriage, to espy a stranger closely following it on horseback. Heaven's, whis- pered 1S2 BJEAUrORD. pered I t(^ my fwtlicr, I am terrified beyond description, there is a highwayman behind us. 1 wish he was any thing, gruffly an- Swerexed and mortified to a degree, that her _j)ride coald not even revive iier, Lady Emily, according to the injunctions of her father, declined all invitations to dance. She had not long been seated, when there was a kind of general move towards the top of the room. Desirous of learning the cause, she rose witli tliat intention, when Miss Martman came hur- rying up to her, and said, if you wish to see a capital style of dancing, or the finest young man in the room, yon must come and see I\fr. Beauford, for the whole company is staring at him ^^ith admiration, and Miss Upgrove, I do assure you, is quite animated also from being his partner. At this last sentence, Lady Emily changed colour, which JMiss Margaret perceiving, directly exclaim- ed, in her blunt way, ^* Why now, is it possible that you are jealous, because this youth prefers Miss L'^pgrove to any one else in the room ? For my part, though he is sueh a handsome fellow, yet I am not such a fool as to give my heart to any person, without be- ing certaiiv of having one in return. Besides, though I98 BEAUFORD, tliouiih I niiiilit sIk3w mvself superior to a-ll* mercenary considerations, in the case of Mr. Beautbrd making an ofltr to nie, yet I am far from being j)0>itive, that, niv papa and inama could be. prevailed upon, with all my entreaties to give tlieir consent to my niarrviuir vour father's secretarv.*' Incensed beyond measure at the coarse effrontery of tiiis speecli, Lady Emily imme- diately replied, with au air of high displea- sure, " 1 should be sorry, indeed, Miss •Nlartiniin, ii 1 tliought I iiad given any one just cause to interpret my looks and actions in the manner vou have done. But of that there can be little fear. You must, how- ever, permit me to say. that before you hazard such a remark again, it would become you to be a little more impressed ^^ith a belief of the fallibility of your senses. Nor can I forbear also adding, that ix must be a matter of perfect indifference to me with whom you may think lit to enter into the state of matrimony." Having said this, she returned immediately to her sclt^ leavin;^- ]\lis5 3.1 Iss Mai'garet more enraged than abashed %ith the reproof she iiad so deservedly re- ceived. \Vhcn the dance was finished, Charles led Miss Upgrove to a seat netir Lady Emily. ** You appear quite tired, my dear," said her Ladyship, making room for her. '* I have indeed almost over exerted my- self," replied Miss Upgrove. *' But that is geherally my case, ivhenever I have a part- ner who can dance, which, by the bye, is ng very usual thing in this country." ** You seem fond of dancing, Mr. Beau- ford," said Ladv Emilv, 2;raciouslv. " I certainly prefer it," replied Charles, *^ to conversation, when I am in a ball- room." " I began to think," said Miss Upgrove, *' tliat after it had struck eleven, you would not have made your appearance." " Had ^Ir. Beauford," quickly rejoined her Ladyship, " absented himself this night, I should have deemed it a very ill compli- ment paid to meJ' Now she uttered tlicse few 200 CEAUFORD, few words in a tone of voice so entirely diftcrent to that which slie had hitherto spoken to Charles, as to produce a very plea- sing sensation to his feelinirs, and when he looked at her, and beheld her eyes modestly thro\^n on the ground, fearful what con- struction he would put upon that sentence, he answered with a glow of joy, which he could not conceal, *' As a proof, of nut having incurred your Ladyship's displeasure, will YOU honor mc with vour hand for the two next dances V *' I did not intend to have stood up again,"' replied Lady Emily, with a most bewitching smile; " but after what you have (Q.st now said, I scarcely know how to reiiLse your request." At that instant Lady Aleercsfield and Oswald approached, while the latter told her that supper was an- nounced, and added, that lie claimed in virtue of his oflice, as blaster of the Cere- monies, which he flattered himself he had dis- clinriied to Ikm' satisfaction and to the rest of the BEAUFORD; 201 the company the exclusive honor of conduct- ing her to a scat. *' Weil then," said ladv Emily to Charles, ^' if you are disposed to remind me after sup- prr of what I have said, I sliali be at your service." Ciiarles had only time to bow his iiead by way of thanking her, before Oswald imrried away her Ladyship and lieraunt into tiic supper-room ; when Miss Upgiovc slowly followed them, leaning upon her jjartners arm. The inexpressible satisfaction Lady Emily felt, upon discovering that the strong par- tiality which she in secret nourished for Charles, was not returned, on his part, by a conhrmed dislike, rendered her so animated at supper, that her spirits seemed to over- flow involuntarily on all around her. None was more evidently pleased than ]\Ls. Eagle- hurst, at seeing her so gay and happy ; hr, imputing this alteration in her manner solely to the circumstance of Oswald's being near her, she thouglit to her.^ch", how verv soon lie would arrive at t!)e v.ishi-d lor izoal. As soon scon ns ever siij per was over, slu^ VL'Ur- cd to lier cij)jrtnirat, her mind occnj)iLd \\illi liic deliihtiid idea of speedily wit- nessing tiie ini|;liais of her son and Lady Emily. The mouieni that Charles saw Lady Emilv enter the ball-room, he hastened to her, and wiih a countenance expressive of the happiness he was to receixc, reminded her of her recent cn^airement. Her heart heat tumultuously as she beheld him ai^proach, while her fine blue eyes cast upon him a look, which was hardly possible for him not to in- terpret into any other meaning than that of satisfaction at his coming. Now whatever truth there may be in the assertion, which has been so often made by stern moralist?, that liberty and licentiousness are terms sy- nonimous in country dances, yet innate mo- desty will ahvays respect itself, and be re- spected even in its gayest and freest moments. Whilst, therefore, Lady Emily abandoned her- self, as it v^ ere to the inspiration of the moment, and was all soul as she danced w ith Charles ; yet BEAUFOllD. 203 yet every word, look, and gesture, were in- dicative of the utmost delicacy and purity. Charles now, for the first time, sfiw m Lady Emily that phiyfiilness, that versatility of txpression, and those touches o-f sensibility, which are so irresistibly attractive and fasci- cinating. It was now thnt the full radiance -of her beat>ty (Hsplayed itself ; she came upon inni at once, hkc the sun from be- hiiKl a cloud; and surely no man, wiio iiad a hcai't and feelings like Charles's, CQuld contemplate this delightful vision without emotion. ^Vhen die dance was over, and Charles was listening with delight to the remarks of iiis partner, and thinking to liimsclf how little- he expected to find such a similarity of tastes in her, whose reserve and pride he tiad deem- ed equal to iier beauty, ^iiss Martu):m, that t!vil genius of Lady Emily, stepped up to her and said, '*^J am sure, Lady Emily, as you have called this very long dance, and l^a\c gone down it twice, you must be exceedingly tiieJ. 1 am quite ready, tiicj j,'forc, wiiila you you rest and compose yours^'f, to tc kc Tcai}'^ ford off your hinds fov the ne\t dance." ** I am ohHgcd to yon," replied her Lady- ship, '•' for your kind otter,'' perfectly aware ()[' the motives which dictated it, " hut I have not the least occasion to avail nivselt of it at present." IMiss ^lartman hit her lips, and gave a spiteful look at her Ladyship ; but yet re- solved to carry her point, she sought Lord Altamont, and in her straight forward wav told him, that if he did not wish to see his daughter faint before the evenino; was over, he would persuade her to sit down the next dance. Alarmed at this intelligence, he ha>tily came to Lady Emily, and ivas somewhat startled when he found her ttte-a- tctc with his secretary ; but recollecting that they had been just dancing together, and that circumstance san;:tionin5 this tern- porary familiarity, without appearing, to notice it, he said, " You quite surpassed yourself, my dear, in the last danee. In- deed, though you are my daughter,, I must pay BEAUFORD. S05 pay you the compliment of saying, that your dancing was not only the admiration of your father, but likewise of the whole company. ]\Iiss Martman, however, assures me that you are quite exhausted, and is good-na- tured enough to say, that she will be your substitute for the next dance with Mr. Beauford." Without deigning to manifest the least signs of vexation or anger, at this officious behaviour of Miss Martman, Lady Emily calmly replied, " I am afraid, my Lord, Miss ]\Iartman will think, I make a very un- grateful return for the solicitude she is pleased to express about my health, when I beg to be excused from complying with her request." She then turned to Charles, and asked him to bring lier a glass of orgeat^ and afterwards began some lively conversation with her fa- ther, which completely frustrated Miss Mar- garet's views. Invincible, however, in as- surance, she still persisted that Lady Emily must be tired, and intreatcd her not to use any disguise with her, as it would afford her much ^06 BLALI-OIID. much pleasure to accouimodato her Lady- ship upon this or any olhcr occasion. As Charles was returning with the orgeat, he was familiarly accosted by Oswald, wlio, after asking to whom he was ^o'ln^i to adnii- nistcr that restorative to brokel2-do^^ n dancers, without any sort of preface, said, " I wish you joy, Hjy dear fellow; for tlie heiress, I clearly forsee, will be your's in the end. j\Iy old foolish, but fond mother, wished me, I ?)elicve, to be upon the look out in that quar- ter; hut CM t re JiQii'S J, there is too much dig- nity, too much of the old school in her Lady- ship, for your humble — you take me, Beau- forJ. (yiirse me, if I would not almost as soon hear one of her father's long speeches, «s be obliged to support a conversation with her for an hour, without the introduction of a third person. No, no, my boy, I am for the free and easy; though, upon honor, I must allow she is a dexi.ish hue crea- ture." To this unexpected address, Charles tliought it most prudent to make no reply ; .i but but btill, visibly deficient as it was in delicacy or refinement, it yet raised in his breast a train of ai^reeable sensations, which he was loth to expel. On opproacliing Lady Emily, he found her surrounded by an admiring cir- cle. Among the voices which were rap- turously extolling her dancing, Lord Pen- sini^ton"s was the loudest " -''lay I never read Zimmerman again,'' exclaimed the Peer, *^ if you do not dance divinely, Lady Emily, quite a la Franccdse.'' TlK?n turning to Charts, whom he had scarcely condescended to recollect at the r first meeting, but with whom he now afiected to be upon a familiar footing, as lie perceived iiis acquaintance with Charles dirl himself credit; " Why Bcauford," said he, '^ you were reckoned at college a very clever fellow, but 1 never knew that you had been such a first-rate dancer. L'^pon honor, I don't think, my dear friend, Townley, who has just re^ turned from Paris, could have gone down the last ^ctt in a finer style than you have clone," " Ycs,^' ^"^ Yes/* sail! tijc forward Miss ]\Iartman, Tvha was i;tanclino; near his LonJship, '* i( ail -of you were like liim, there w ould be no frippery or nonsense among yon fine gentlemen. But it is not every one, yon know," looking his Lordship full in the fi\ce, *' who is as clever ivith his head as witii his heels/' Just thenOs- \rald came up, and overhearing the last wordj*» of ]Miss Martman, he whispered into his Lordship's ear, ^' Egad Pen, the girl is making a quizz at you ; move off, therefore, and leave me to manage the rustic." "' Why, as I don't well understand these simple characters," rcphed the Peer, *' I think I will take your advice." So saying, ne threw a supercilious look at [Miss Mart- man, and immediately joined \h\ Upgrove and his daughtei'. " What," cried out Miss iMartman, " does the man take me for a cannibal, ii»i^rt a* resister k Taniour, sert aussi le ci reiidre violent et durable; et Ics pertonnes foibles qui sunt toujours agitees de passions, n'en soat tresque jamais veritablement templies. RocnEiouCAtlt. There are, perhaps, few remarks which ap- pear to stand less in fear of contradic* tion, than that a man seldom entertains a real attachment to a woman, ifvithout his passion being known to her before he is fully sensible of it himself. In the present case, however, it was otherw ise ; since Lady Emily had fixed her thoughts upon Charles, P § wbea 212 Br A U FORD. \vhen every trivial circumstance seemingly conspired to remind her, that so far from his conceiving a passion of tlie like kind for her, she was to him only an object of indifference or aversion. But pride enabled her to con- ceal, for a long time, what her feelings could not conquer ; and her efforts for this purpose served, therefore, to render the j^ensations of her heart still more ove 'whelming. When, however, she found it was no longer possible to hide that thought which occupied her abroad, at home, at night, by day, and it at last overflowed, the exquisiteness of her sen- sibility increased in proportion as her reserve diminished. Led thus to make a fuller ex- posure of her susceptibility than those of her sex, who make the passion of love subservi- ent to iheir worldly advantages, we must not then accuse Charles of vanity or presumption in flattering himself, that he had made an impiession upon the heart of Lady Emily ; for though not a syllable had passed between them on the subject of love, yet in the art- less indications of her looks and emotic ns, it was BEAUFORD* 213 was easy' for him to perceive that he was the man she wished to distinguish above all others. Nor ought our readers to arraign the conduct of Charles as romantic or unna- tural, in falling in love with one, who, till the ball, had only testified to him complete indifference, not to call it by a stronger name ; since it must be remembered, that Lady Emily's beauty had excited his admira- tion the first moment that he beheld her ; and though her subsequent behaviour, till the night when the ball took place, had given rise to a great coldness betwixt them, yet all her former pride and distance towards him, now that he thought that they were used for the purpose of drawing a veil over her attach- ment, so far from checking his rising passion, rendered her, upon that very account, more deeply interesting to him. They, indeed, must have perused but few pages of this vo- lume, who can suppose that Charles was of a turn and temper of mind, which, with all its eagerness to enter into the circle of ambi- tion, 1214 BEAUFORP. tion, could, for the sake of it, be led to sup^ press in his bosom one of the noblest and most generous propensities of our nature. The wealth of the Indies, would not have tempted him to give his hand where he could not promise his heart ; nor would the prospect of the highest honors have urged him, deliberately and systematically^ to en- snare the alTections of his patron's daughter ; but when, with the most attractive sweetness and sentimental tenderness they were ofiRrred to him, he felt that it was impossible for him to shut his heart against the approaches of such beauty and merit. It must not however b€ supposed, that Charles had such a high sense of his own deserts, as to be quite confident of the im- pression which he had made upon- Lady Emily ; since there were times when he had as fully worked himself up to believe, that he had entirely mistaken the motives of Lady Emily's attentions to him, as at other pe- riods he yielded his mind to the delightful idea 6 BEAUFORP. 214 idea of being beloved by her. Tliua in the beautiful language of the Poet, Hope and fear al termite swayM his breast, Like light and shade upon a waving field Coursing each other, when the flying clouds Now hide and now rereal the sun. Deeply agitated with these contending emotions, Charles left his chamber, and walked into the park ; without considering whither he went, so al»sorbed was he in re* flection, until he had arrived at the path which led directly to the Thornery. Now nothing, perhaps, would have induced him, a f^v^r days ago, to strike into that path; but ac- tuated by his present sentiments, he could not resist his desire of entering a building, to which he was aware none presumed to ap*- proach, without an invitation from Lady Emily. On coming to it, he praused, how* ever, for a moment, whether he should enter ; but the recollection, that none of the family could be up at 30 early an hour, brought him to a decision. When 215 BEAU FORD. AVhen he had admired, for some time, the classic simplicity with which the room was. decorate I, his eye was caught by a port-iblio of drawings, which liid most invitingly open lor inspection. After turning over several of them, he came to a very spirited sketch of Lady Meeresfield. Upon taking it up to look at it with more attention, he found a small piece of paper carefully tacked to it, which, on opening, he discovered to contain a like- ness of himself, so extremely accurate, that it was impossible for him to mistake it. The astonishment and joy of Charles on this dis- closure, may be more easily conceived thait described. Again and again he examined the sketch, and the more he surveyed it, the more he felt delighted at this unequivocal proof of attachment ; while as he returned home, he abandoned himself to that delicious train of retiections, which this unexpected discovery so naturally inspired. With feelings far less disposed than Charles to indulge the imagination in painting scenes favorable to future happiness, Lady Lmilj BEAUFORD. 217 Emily had quitted her chamber. For, hav- ing gone to bed with her mhid happy beyond measure at the thoughts of being beloved by Charles, yet, full of sad forebodings at the almost invincible opposition she should have to encounter from her father to their union, her dreams were influenced in a similar way during the whole night. At one time, she imagined herself in Beechwood Chapel, splen- didly attired, surrounded by a large gmupe of friends, who had assembled there to grace her nuptials with Charles ; w hen soon after she thought her father entered, and, to her utter amazement and horror, drawing a poignard from his side, with an uplifted arm sought the breast of Charles; — upon w^iich, she seemed to throw herself immediately be- tween them, and to implore the blessings of eternal Providence upon her father's liead, if he would spare the life of her betrothed husband ; when, nothing moved by her cries and supplications, he appeared first to plunge the dagger into the bosom of Charles, and then into his own, utterins; vvith his last breath 518 BEAUFOflt). breath the heaviest imprecations upon her tiiial disobedience. So disturbed was her Ladyship by these virions, that when she actually awoke, it was aloni; time before she could shake tiiem off from her remembrance ; and when she came into the breakfast-room, tliere appeared such an exceeding languor in her looks, that her aunt could not refrain from asking her if she was unwell, and all who were present expressed their fears that she had over-exerted herself last night. Lord Pensington taking a chair beside her, began to pay her a profu- sion of compliments upon the delicacy of her looks, which, he said, indicated that sensi- bility so justly characterised by his favorite Zilnmerman, as the most touching of female charms. Indeed, it was quite obvious, from the very assiduous court which this noble dis- ciple of the German seatimentalist had paid to Lady Emily, ever since he had been at- Beechwood, that his heart was completely captivated by her beauty. In the midst, however, of one of his Lordship's fme speeches, BEAUlf'ORD. filj) Speeches, he, who was the first of human beings in Lady Emily's eye, entered the room. H^ therto Charles's manner in passing the usual compliments of the day to her Ladyship, had been very distant ; bat now he approached her with a respectful tenderness and anima- tion which thrilled through the soul of this lovely creature ; and though, from Lord Pensington's keeping his place near her, he was precluded from a long conversation, yet he contrived to evince his solicitude about her iiealth, upon seeing the interesting lan- guor spread over her features, in those em-' phatic words, w^hich Lady Emily felt meant more than meet the ear. But short as their conversation was, Lord Pensington clearly perceived the satisi^ietion- with which her Ladyship listened to every word said, and the fit of silence into which she fell as soon as ever he left her. Too much enamoured, however, with the symmetry and elegance of his own person, to discover the superiority of Charles in both these respects, aad loo well assured that the instant he made 220 BEAU FORD made a declaration of his passion, it would be favourably received, he recovered his good humour the moment Charles had quitted the room. Indeed, so great was the fascination of self-conceit in this young nobleman, that inter- preting the attentions which Lady Emily had shewn him as her father's visitor, into as great an admiration of his person, as he really felt for her"s, he resolved to take the extra- vagant step of making proposals to Earl Al- tamont for her hand, in the firm conviction, that they would be equally acceptable to the daughter and father, notwithstanding his re- cent acquaintance \\ith both of them. When he returned, therefore, from his ride T\'ith Lady Emily, in the course of which he Lad taken the opportunity of bestowing that sort of fulsome praises upon her biauty, which produced quite the contrary effect to what was intended, he sought the Earl, and with very little preface, introduced the topic so near his heart. Tlie sudden- ness of this proposal, it may be easily ima- gined, startled the Earl not a little ; but aware BEAU FORD. 2C1 "aware of the commanding influence of him who made it, inasmuch as several members in a certain eminent assembly owed their •J seats to his patronage ; he therefore civilly thanked his Lordship for the high opinion he entertained of his daughter, and, without even glancing at the folly of his being so pre- cipitate on the occasion, assured him he would leave Lady Emily entirely to her own decision. ^* You will just then act as I wish, my Lord," said the noble lover. " For, to say the truth," continued the Earl, *' my daughter, young as she is, has afforded me so many proofs of an affectionate heart, and Judgment superior to the gene- rality of her sex, that I cannot think, how- ever I may feel inclined, of interposing my parental authority in this affair." "Parental authority," repeated Lord Pen- sincrton, '* what then has she ijiven her heart to some happier man ! ' ** li she had, my Lord," replied the Earl, " a moment's reflection might have told you, that 5CC »r.AUFORD. that I should have stopped you short in your discourse." '* Then, my Lord," replied the coxcomb, involuntarily throwing his eyes upon a minor which gave him a full view of his person, and alT^^tedly tossing up his head, " I tlattcr myself tliere will be no need for parental anlhoritj/ upon this occasion. All I request is, that you will allow me this even- ing, for indispensable business calls me away at an early hour to-morrow, to solicit an au- dience of her Ladyship, for the purpose of laying my heart and fortunes at her feet." After what he had said, the Earl knew not well how to deny his request. Accord- in or] y he consented ; but beincr somewhat as- tonished by tlie coniident tone of success which his Lordship had assumed, he deter- mined to sound Charles upon the character that his Lordship had acquired at college, and if he found it correspond with his con- ceptions of it, to withhold his consent, even ^ should his daughter have conceived a violent passion fr him, which, he did her ihii BEAU FORD. 225 the justice to believe, could not be the case under existing circumstances. When they had conversed for some time afterwards, upon indifferent subjects, the two Lords se- parated ; the one in search of Charles, the otlier to his apartment, to interweave some beautiful sentiment of Zimmerman in the avowal of his passion to Lady Emily ; since he, like Alexander with the works of Homer, never travelled or visited without carrying with him the Treatise upon Solitude. In crossing the gallery which led to Charles's apartment, the Earl met Mrs. Ea- glehurst, and to her he related the particu- lars of the conversation which he had just then held with Lord Pensington. This news came like an electrical shock upon that lad}': Jbut, as she could not, with any sort of pro- priety, affect to be acquainted w ith the vices ajid weaknesses of one whom siie had only JiUown a few days ago, there was nothing left for her but to hint, in pretty strong terms, that these sudden attachments seldom lasted long- 2^4 BEAUFORD. lonii; ; and that, in her humble opinien, it woiiUl have been more respectful and de- licate to her Ladyship, had Loid Pensington been less forward in tlie confession of his passion. Being informed by the Earl of his design to question Charles, respecting Inn Lordship's character and acquirements, ]\irs. EaMehurst told him, that he had just entered the shrubbery adjoining the house, and added, that as she was going to take a stroll there, she would send him directly home. Away then she hurried in ])ur5uit of him, as this intention of the Earl had suggested to her mind the invention of a storv, which, iud!zin, Williarti, I perceived those persons had turned their horses, and were trotting on towards me. Upon coining close to me, they stopped their horses, instead of passing and enquired whither I was goin^r^ I then directly thought by that question, my Lady, that they were highwaymen, and was pulling out my purse to give it them^ whea one of them, laughingly, said they wertEi no robbers, although they meant to be ra- rishers of a few kisses ; and the other directly answered, that they were lucky rogues to meet a pretty girl alone in so retired a road ; and upon this he attempted to put his arm round my waist. Terrified beyond descrip- tion at this attempt, I set off immediately on a gallop, screaming all the while, and they following me, using all sort of im- pertinent language. In this way I went on for upwards of a mile, when just as I had entered a frightful lane, who should I meet, my Lady, but Mr. Beauford ; upon M^hich, not the least thinking of the conse- quences tliat would happen, I imprudently R 2 cried 244! BEAUrORD. cried out, Oh! save mc, save nic, Sir! from these men. When, in an instant, my Lady, never shall I forget his looks, he laid his uhip u[)on the shoulders of them botii. Their astonishment, indeed, nas not greater than mine at this action, so (jaickly was it done. Scoundrel, do you know who 1 am, said one of them. A villain, said \iv. Beauford ; for none but a villain would have the heart to insult an unprotected female. At that moment, William came riding fu- riously towards us. The person who first spoke to Mr. Beauford, said, Where am I to hear of you. At Beechwood Court, and by the name of Beauford, was the answer. If I do not then wipe away the stigma you have cast upon me in your blood, said the same person, with a horrid oath, and his eyes flashing fire, I will give you leave to horsewhip mc whenever you see me. And then, my Lady, he and his companion rode off directly. When Mr. Beauford, see- ing I was almost ready to faint, and so fearful of meeting them again, rode by my side EF.AUFORD. £45 jitJe all the way home, nor would he suffer me to say a word by way of thanking hhn ; but ill the kindest manner turned the conver- sation, by asking me about the health of my father and mother. — Indeed, indeed, Madam, I do not think the whole earth contains a more noble generous-hearted gentleman than Mr. Beauford.^^ " You have every reason to think so," replied Lady Emily, struggling to conceal the agitation into which this story had thiown her. " What shall I say ! Oh, my Lady, what must 1 do then," said Mary, '* to save the life of my protector ; wsince I am certain his will be taken away if somethincr is not done to prevent this dreadful meeting. For, I have not told yet the worst of this affair. " *' Let me have it," replied her Ladyship, almost speed iless with agony. " Why, Madam," answered Mary, " as soon as ever Mr. Leauford lett me, ^Villiam came up, and shaking his head, said, I ani woefully afraid, that Mr. Lawson, for SLl6 BEAUFORD. for that was he A\ho told Mr. Ecauforcl, he should hear from him, will do his business for him. For before I came into my Lord's service, 1 lived with Mr. Lawson, and he was accounted the best pistol shot in the whole county. And so he ought to be, for he was always shooting at a mark." Here Mary burst again into tears, at the thoughts of being the cause of exposing the life of Charles to such imminent danger. At this piece of intelligence, Lady Emily's spirits un- derwent s cpainful an emotion, hat she coulc( not utter a single word. ** Ah, my Lady," exclaimed I\Iary, who interpreted her silence into an unconcern tor the fate of Charles, " if you knew how Mr. Beauford was adored by the whole house- hold, if you knew the kind actions he had dor 3 to many of them, and how affable he "was to all, you would then feel hovy very |iiiserai)le I am at this moment. ** But I am afraid some one has prejudiced you against him, for I never hear you mentici) his name." " Leave liEAUFORD. 247 " Leave me, leave me, Mary, for the present," said her Ladyship, in a languid voice, and motioning her to begone. The moment that Lady Eiuily was left to herself, she gave vent to the fulness of her sorrow for Charles's situation. Her first idea was, after she had hi some decree reco- vercd herself, to inform her fatlier of his danger ; but recollecting that the high spirit of Charles would render even his interpo- sition unavailing, she at last determined, so forcibly did her imagination dwell on the liorrors which would ensue if he met his antagonist, to speak to him herself upon {he subject, under the pretence of telling hiai of the heart-struck wretchedness her servant telt at having involved him in this fatal quarrel. When she had once made up her mind to embrace this resolution, she was all impa- tience till she saw Charles. But unfortu- nately for her wishes, as soon as ever he had left her servant, he went to his own apartment, and did not make his appearance below stairs, either at dinner or any part of ^4M BEAU FORD. of the afternoon; for, m the expectation of receivhig the challenge in a few liours, both duty and atTection required that he should employ the interval of thiie in writing to his uncle and to his sister. It was iate in the evening w hen the chal- lenge came, penned after the usual mode. As Charles was reading it, Oswald entered his room. ** IJey dey, my dear fellow," said he, before he had taken a chair, " what ails you ; have you got the megrims, or ics vapeurs 7wirs, as the fine ladies term them ? Upon honor, your absence at dinner damped my mirth and merriment as much as a wet blanket does a hre. And Lady Emily looked as melancholy as if you had been drowned or shot. Jpropos, is it true w hat my man has been telling me, that you have got into a quarrel with Lawson, about her Ladyship'3 maid." ** By this note it appears so," answered Charles, and presenting it to him. " Upon^my soul," replied Oswald, after he had glanced his eye over the note, and heard BEAUFORD. 24^ heard from Charles the particulars .of their quarrel, " I am truly sorry you have received this message ; for the chances, 1 am alVaid, are very much against you." " ^^ hy so," coolly asked Charles. ** Because," answered Oswald, " he is one of your first rate shots. He is one of those who can snuff a candle, and lodge his bullet in the centre of a ci own piece at the distance of twelve paces." *' In other words," said Charles, " Mr. Lawson is a professed duellist. I am glad that you have communicated this fact to me ; as it will materially alter the line of conduct which I meant to have adopted to- wards him. For it certainly was my inten- tion, to have received the fire of Mr. Lawson without returning it, conceiving that my im- petuosity of temper had hurried me into too summary a mode of proceeding towards him and his friend. But now that I under- stand the true character of my antagonist, 1 shall defend myself against him, though at the hazard and even certainty of perishing in that 2oO BEAUFORD. that defence. And dejicnd upon it, that the pian whose nerves are braced by that sort of courage wliich gives gteadiness to the hand jind to the eye, is quite on an equal footing in ^n affair of this kind with one who, because he has acquired the disgraceful skill of hitting a mark w^ith unerring certainty, thinks he may insult with impunity unprotected modesty in whatever form he meets it." *' Well, said Oswald, " you are a noble fellow ; and if you are in want of a friend upon this occasion, I am at 3'our service ; though I never before accompanied any one to the field."' '' I accept your offer v,ith thanks," replied Charles ; " and if any fatal accident should happen to me, you will find in tliatescrutoire, letters to my sister and uncle, and certain pa- pers of my Lord's, which I commit to your es- pecial care. And now I will wish you a good night, as I have a few things to settle prepa- ratory to this meeting. Siiould any one on your return to the drawing room, ask why T am absent, you will of course assign any reason BEAU FJORD. 251 reason but the real one. Now once mor# good night, and pray do not forget to be here precisely at eight o'clock to-morrow ^lorninlJ." *' Oh, rely upon it," said Oswald, as he shut the door, '' I will be punctual to the tune." Prevented thus from havinf^ any conversa- tion with Charles during the whole of the day, it may be easily imagined what a night of horror and anxiety the heiress of Beech' wood had passed. ^Vhen therefore, " Uprose the sun, then uprose Emily," for thinking that the cool air of the mornincr ivould in some degree relieve that sort of feverishness which she felt from the want of sleep, sliQ threw on her cloak and walked towards theThornery. diaries had passed as restless a night as her Ladyship ; and as soon as the morninor Ijalit had dawned upon his windows, he rose from his bed, and dressed himself; and suspecting all the 2.52 BKAUFORD. the family to be asleep, he felt an irresistible desire of once more visiting the Thornery. In entering the walk, which led to this ro- mantic spot, Charles beheld a female figure moving towards him. He stopped for a few minutes, uncertain whether he should proceed. By this time the person had ad- vanced so near, that he could distinctly re- cognise the features of Lady Emily. Both of them were so surprised at this meeting, that when they did join each other, they were quite silent for some moments. At length Charles broke silence, by raying, that he did not know her Ladyship was so early a riser. To this remark Lady Emily answered, without well knowing what she was saying, so intent was her thoughts upon Charles's perilous situation ; yet, by a strange inconsistency, now that she had got the op- portunity, she so anxiously souglit for, her delicacy almost persuaded her to abandon it. Another pause ensued, as they walked on, wiien Charles had again recourse to the beauties of nature. '' Tiie BEAUFORD. 'i^S " The beauties of nature," said her Lady- ship, after Charles had been expatiating on them for some time, " can impart but small pleasure -when the mind is not at ease." *' Unquestionably," answered he, totally unsuspicious to what she had hinted at. *^ I should be asliamed therefore," added she, " if I could contemplate yonder rural scenery with tranquil pleasure, when I think that one, whom my aunt so highly and so deservedly esteems, may be in a few hours no more, through the rash imprudence of my servant." " Lady Emily," said Charles, almost start- ing; with astonishment. ** Yes, Mr. Eeauford," repHed her Lady- ship, observing his emotion, " it is to you tliat I allude. Nor can you be surprised that when mv servant told me all that you have kept a profound secret, and when I saw her eyes overflowing with gratitude, and her heart almost bursting with the pangs of your anticipated death, I should so far sympathise with !854 BEAUFORD. ^vith her feelings as to beg that you will make an apology for the affront you have offered to ]\ir. Law son and his friend/' " Oh," said- Charles, in a soothing tone of voice, " affairs of this kind are by no means so frequently attended with those fatal consequences your maid seems to apprehend." " You will then apologise," eagerly replied her Ladyship. *^ If tne affair can be accommodated iir this way,'' answered Charles, '^ 1 sliall have no hesitation in doing so." " And if it cannot," said Lady Emily, with evident agitation, *^ What then follows — Why the loss of your life, and the peace and happiness of all those whose friendship, whose regard for you,"-* Here, aware that she had let him see the weakness of her heart, she hesitated, and put her handker- chief to her face to conceal her blushes. Touched to his inmo.st soul by this evident proof of her affection at such a moment, Charles fearing that if he staid any longer \e 4 BEAUjFORb. 955 he should not be able to command his feel- ings, but should throw himself at her feet, and declare his passion, hastily uttered these impassioned words, " Adieui loveliest and most amiable of thy sex." " Stop, one moment, I conjure you," said Lady Emily, while the tears trembled in her eyes, '' Tell me, is mv happiness ; — I mean that of your sister and uncle dear to you." *' So judge me, Heav'n," cried Charles with enthusiasm, and tenderly taking her hand, " I prize it beyond the choicest blessings which wealth or fame could be- stow\" " Promise me then," said she, " that \'X)ii will not meet these men." *•• I cannot make such a promise," an- swered he ; ^' for I cannot abate one scruple of my honor even for their sakes. All ihat I can faithfully promise is, that I will con- sider it my duty to feel more for my friends, upon this occasion, than for myself," At that moment one of the gardeners made bis S<^ BEAUFOIID. his appearance at the bottom of the avenue in wiiicli they were, when Lady Emily falter- ingly said, ** Farewell, remember me," — and iinmcdiately they separated. At the appointed hour, Oswald came to Charles, and in less than twenty minutes they had arrived at the place of rendezvous. In the mean time, Lady Emily's suspense was dreadful. For her maid having unluckily seen Charles's servant, and enquiring of him wlicre his master was, learnt that he had just set oft' with Mr. Eaglehurst. Conceiving from this circumstance that tiie duel had already taken place, she entered her mistress's room, and unable to con- ceal this distressing intelligence, reveal- ed it all to her Ladyship. The reader's fancy will take in more than our pen can describe what Lady Emily endured between the receivino; of this intellisence, and the moment when she was acquainted with the issue of the duel. How often as she paced up and down her apartment, while her aching eye, her anxious car, sought to catch the approaches BEAUFORD. 2o7 ■iipproaclics of some who might bring tidings of Charles, did she apply to her own situa- tion that equally just and beautiiul remark of the poetj *' With wliat a leaden and retarding Aveiglit, " Docs Expectation load the wings of Time.** At length, after an interval of two or three hours, Mary hurried into her room again, and almost breathless with joy, exclaimed, " Oh, Madam, the duel is over, and ]\Ir. Eeau- ford is safe." " lieav'n be praised,'* fervently ejaculated Lady Emily, completely thrown off her guard in her transports of delight at this unexpected news. " But when, and how did you hear this circumstance ?" " Why, my Lady," said Mary, " as soon as ever I left your room, I went up into mv own, which commands a very extensive view of the park ; when after I had strained my eyes for. near an hour, looking in every di- vor. I. S vectiou 258 BKAUFOR©. rcction to see it']\Ir. Beauford tvas retarninjr, I at last espied Mr. Ea^^leliurst galloping as fast as he could towards the house ; upon which I immediately run to meet him, and, God be thanked, the first and only words he said to me, were, that JVIr. Beauford was was safe. And by this tinie, I durst say, madam, that I\Ir. Eaglehurst has re- turned from the stables, and entered the house." AVith trembling steps, though with a more composed countenance, Lady Emily immedi- ately descended from her apartment into the sa- loon, to hear the particulars of an occurrence which had so violently aifected her. Upon en- terinvho would then have made the laws speak in exact conformity to the arbitrary wishes of their king, the churchmen to defeat a project which was intended to sweep away at once the Saxon code, the great and only palladium of their country's liberties, and in which they were confessedly more 314* KEAUFORD. more skilled than any other body of men, did thereibre turn common lawyers ; and this expedient so well succeeded, that in the next reign almost all the clergy became pro- fessors of the conniion law, as we may gather from that well-known expression of the his- torian, Nullus clericLis nisi caasidicus. Per- haps the acute casuist may here observe, that the main-spring of their activity and vigilance "was the interests of the church, as nmch as it was in their promoting the Revolution. But I cannot think that the motives for public bodies, in bringing about any good, ought to be scrutinized so nicely as those of individuals. I shall ever therefore con- tend, that the clergy for having acted as they did in those two memorable instances, grant- ing even their primary object was the church, have deserved well of their country." Here my Lord appeared to be overtaken by one of his lethargic fits. " Well, Mr. Featherweight," said the Baronet, " we have all reason to rejoice that we did not live in those times, when the liberty of 9EAUF0RD. S15 of the subject was put in such jeopardy by the bawling of the sycophants of the crown about the divine right of kings, the dis- pensing power of kings, the high commission court, the star-chamber court, and I don't know how many other courts, all nearly as bad as the inquisition itself." " We may indeed," said Mr. Feather- weight, *' be all thankful to Providence for casting our births after the epoch of the Re-- volution." " Truly we may," exclaimed a gentleman who sat by the side of Mr. Featherweight, *' for who knows if the expulsion of James IL had not taken place, but what all of us here, instead of canvassing, the slavish doc- trines of the clergy, might now be kneeling at the shrine of some such saint as Thomas a Becket, through the abject superstition of that prince, who as much believed in the infallibility of the pope, as his name-sake did in the existence of witches, and in the boms and tail of the devil," Kow 316 BEAUFORD. Now here was another opening for my Lord to shew the company the new game of pohtics he was going to play, and of wliich he availed himself with his usual dex- terity. Pretending gradually to awake as the conversation turned upon the Revo- lution, he exclaimed in a tone of voice sufficiently loud to arrest the attention of all present, " Yes, gentlemen, and while vje remember with gratitude the capital columns of British liberty, reared by the glo- rious patriots of the Revolution, don't let us forget, when talking of monarchs, to cherish the memory of A\'iliiam the third, with sentiments of fond veneration. Other princes may have surpassed him in military ex- ploits, and political capacity. ' But the man whose virtues ought to be engraven on the head and heart of every Englishman, for havincy conferred the most essential benefits upon his country, as well as Europe at large, is, beyond the shadow of doubt, William the third. Eor liad not his great heart been deeply impressed with the conviction, that kings BEAUFORD. 3l7 kings were instituted only for the good of those over whom they preside ; had not this been the predominant feeling of his life, it is more than conjectural, that this country would have now worn the fetters both of civil and ecclesiastical servitude. None will deny the truth of this observation, when they are reminded of the colossal pouer which France had then grown to, under Louis XIY. and of the systematic attempts of that ambitious potentate to subjugate the whole Continent to his will. I say then, gentlemen, had it not been for the single exertions of the maor- naniuious William, the Protestant interest would have, in all likelihood, been annihi- lated, and we had been a nation of slaves instead of freemen. Thanks, however, be to God, the heroic spirit of that Prince, after a series of strugdes, at last surmounted all these terrible dangers and evils ; and so com- pletely changed the face of Europe, tiiat the sacred name of liberty, by his un^^ earied and undaunted efforts, began at last to be heard in other countries, and would have reached, in 318 UEAUFORD. ill all probability, but for the French Re- volution, to the uttermost corners of the earth." This animated speech was highly admired by all present, especially by Charles, who little thought, any more than the rest of his Lordships auditors, that what they had ap- plauded as an extemporary effusion, had taken the deliverer of it some hours to pro- duce ; still less did it enter into their imagina- tions, that the Earl had touched before upon the Revolution, solely for no other purpose but of introducing this speech at a proper time and place. Here ]\'Ir. Featherweight continued the subject by saying, " And among the civil blessings which the Revolution has imparted to us, I think, my Lord, that may be reckoned no inconsidesable one, which renders it im- possible now for an artful and base-minded man to succeed, by a forced and unnatural interpretation of some few detached texts of scripture, in teaching the people the necessity of a slavish non-resistance to such as are in- clined BEAUFORD. 519 dined to the establishment of an arbitrary system of government. Nobody is now foolish enough," looking at Charles, " to talk about the (hvine right of kings ; 1 say," added Mr. Featliervveight, with great vehemence, perceiving Charles smiled, " the man who can pretend to say, that our kings reign by a divine right, does not deserve the freedom of the British constitution." " If I know myself at all," replied Charles, ** there exists not a being who can admire more enthusiastically than I do that noble sentiment in Homer, that the day which makes one a slave, takes away one half of our manly virtue. Yet, although I am as thankful as Mr. Featherweic^ht for beino; born in this country, after the great epoch of the Revolu- tion, which prescribed the limits of preroga- tive, and ascertained the rights and liberties of the subject, in the famous act of settle- ment, and until which period, much as the government has been extolled by foreign writers as a master-piece of modern policy, was 5S0 BEAUFORP. was little better than one violent scene of contention between the king and the people, about prerogative and. privilege, I must, ne- vertheless, presume to think and to say, that the princes of the Brunswick line still reign by divine right." " Come Beauford," said the Earl, with a wish to throw an air of ridicule upon what Charles was about to say, " you have given us one ingenious paradox in the course of the evening ; but you nmst recollect that toujours chapon hoiidll ^^ill not do. Why you may as well contend that the crown can- not be deemed absolutely hereditary, because in the oath to government there is a proviso that the heirs be Protestants, and because the word heirs is not now made use of; or affirm, that the great ends of the Revolution have been defeated, because the clause of the act of settlement, which excluded all persons who enjoyed any places of profit or pension under the croAMi, has been in ettect abrogated by the clause of re-elections in the reign of Queen BEAUFORD. 321 Qaeen Anne ; — I say, you may as well pre- tend to assert either of these extravagant po- sitions, as to declare, that our monarchs now reign by divine right, when you know that our constitution by the revolution, became a written con pact. But I suppose you are going to prove their claims of that kind by some new and able exposition of the well known saying, vo.v populi, vox DeiT ** 1 am not, indeed, my Lord," replied Charles, with a firm but respectful tone, and unembarrassed by the irony of his speech ; *•' nor can your Lordship imagine, that I am going to claim for the sovereigns of this country, or of any other, a divine right si- milar to that of the Israelitish kings, the only monarchs upon earth who ever reigned by an indefeasible divine right. It cannot either be reasonably supposed, that I am unwilling to admit, that of all who wield the sceptre, none hold it by so fair and just a title, as those into whose hands it is lodged by the suffrages of the people. But then, if I am to give credit to the Mosaic history ; — if I am not VOL. I. Y to 322 BEAUFORD. to reject the authentic monuments of the first ages, of which we Christians are possessed of, or the gospels of Heaven ; — all of which instruct me to believe, that government was coeval with mankind, in opposition to so many fine spun theories about the prior state of nature, I must view the act of the people in such a case, only as the means which Providence employed to place the new ruler upon his throne. The basis, therefore, of our govern- ment, is religion, as much as its end is li^ berty. But to express myself more distinctly, I w ill borrow the memorable words of Hoad- ley in his defence of Hooker, once the great object of Whig idolatry, and so justly styled the republican bishop. They are these, my Lord. " All kinos, but such as are imme- diately named by God himself, have their power by human right only; though after human composition and agreement, their lawful clioice is approved of God, and obedi- ence required to them by divine right .'' And Calvin, whom none will accuse of being »t{ lover of monarchy, has expressly stated, in varioiis BEAUFORt). 523 Various parts of his Institutes, that govern- ment, under every form is a divine ordinance. This, and this only then, is the divine right "vvhich I humbly conceive may be claimed for the first magistrate of this country, without its being open to the charge, of proving ruinous to himself, to the people, and to the constitution.'* Here Mr. Featherweight, assuming an in- solent tone of superiority, exclaimed, " Oh^ Mr. Beauford, tliis sort of reasonings, believe me, are obviously calculated for other men^ and other times than the present. You will hereafter discover, that they are more fitted for the cloister than for the world. They appear to me, nearly as ridiculous, I beg your pardon for saying so, as if the secretary of state of these days should refuse to employ spies, or to allow himself the liberty of open- ing letters, upon suspicion that they might contain matter of dangerous import, because he had read in Clarendon, that the celebrated Lord Falkland could not bring himself to do either of these things, when he held that office. 7 oflice. Take it from me, yoa iniist put asidt this inflexibility and these sequestered specu- lations, if you ever hope to distiriguish your- self as a political partizan/* " I thank you for your counsel, Sir," re- Jilied Charles, " although it was unasked. And, give me leave in return to say, that the public hopes for any thing great, good, or virtuous, will never rest upon that nian, who can servilely adopt in politics^ Pope's maxim, T/iat Xi' hat ever is, is right ; when it is there, as false, as it is just in Ethics. And though T have read and heard of men, who can wiu their way in the stormy sea of politics, asJ akilful mariners do on the ocean, by plying in all directions as occasions serve, and by making the best of all weathers, yet, I will venture to assert, that the most solid founda- tion for real and lasting political fame, is a spirit of moderation ; and that the most con- temptible of all transitions is, from the vio- ience and intolerance of one extreme to another." In these observations Charles hit Lis Lordship so hard, though without th« 3 least BEAU FORD. 325 least intention of doing so, that lie reddened, ^nd put an end to the discourse by abruptly saying, " It is high time. Sir Christopher, that we should join the ladies." " It IS indeed, my Lord," cried Oswald ; when turning to Charles, he said in a low tone of voice, " You are a devilish clever fellow, Beauford, but if yoii wish me to be fond of your company, you will never talk politics or metaphysics ; for entre 920us, these are precisely the two things which I can't abide." As soon as the Earl had taken his coffee, he rang for his carriage ; and as he returned home riiminating on what was past, he re- solved in his own mind to mould Charles's political principles entirely to his will, or else to get rid of one, who could not speak that language of accommodation which makes honor and interest pas!> for terjns sy^ nonimous. iND OF vot. I, . " ' ■ ■ " I y I ■ - ■■ i^riutcd by i.aw auj Gilbert, St. /oLa'5-S