Modern Flirtations: A Novel

by Catherine Sinclair

  CHAPTER XVI.

  Marion found it more and more difficult every day, to account for thebitter, angry contempt with which Agnes spoke of Clara Granville, herdislike to whom never seemed for an hour to lie dormant, as she wasperpetually making allusions to her, which caused very frequentirritation between herself and Sir Patrick, who sometimes angrily leftthe room, and yet occasionally joined in her invectives against thewhole Granville family, in a tone of reckless, angry derision, whichwas to Marion completely perplexing and unaccountable. If Agnes feltdull or out of spirits, she complained of being excessivelyGranville-ish; or if Sir Patrick were observed for a wonder, in anysingle instance, to economise, she called him a Granville-ist; but ifher brother either laughed, or flung himself out of the room,according to the humor he was in, it was in a fit of Granville-ism;and Marion became surprised to perceive that the mention of that namewas never, even by chance, like that of any other name, a subject ofindifference; and conscious that some secret was connected with it,not imparted to her, she carefully avoided all allusion to Clara.

  Agnes one day jestingly announced to Sir Patrick that the Granvilleshad taken out perpetual tickets at the Charitable Soup Kitchen, andmeant to dine there every day on broth; and the next morning sherather inconsistently found fault with them, because at least twentypoor people assembled at their lodgings every day, to be fed, as if itwere a House of Refuge.

  Marion observed that all the innumerable books for charitablesubscriptions, which were circulated from door to door, Agnes liked toexamine, for the gossiping amusement of ascertaining how much wasgiven by each or her friends, though never for the purpose of addingher own name, as her purse was a complete valetudinarian, alwayscomplaining of exhaustion, yet always capable of any exertion dictatedby inclination; and Sir Patrick also, though he generally swore animpatient oath or two, when he saw the succession of dingy lookingbooks brought into the drawing-room, sometimes amused himself with asupercilious glance at the contents.

  Whenever the object was judicious, the Reverend Richard Granville'sname, and that of his sister, appeared for a small sum, such as theymight be able to afford; and Marion felt convinced there was muchsingle-hearted goodness, and courageous disregard of mere appearances,when beneath the pompous L5 5s., of Lady Towercliffe, she saw themodest unobtrusive ten shillings, or half-a-crown of Miss Granville.It was probably all Clara could give, and she did not feel ashamed toproclaim the very small amount, though Agnes, like most persons whoare mean themselves, in respect to giving, was splendid in her notionsfor others, and exclaimed outrageously against the absurdity ofbestowing a paltry trifle at all.

  "Five shillings to the Infirmary! did ever anybody hear such nonsense!as if an Infirmary could be supported on five shillings! It is so likeClara Granville's trumpery ideas! I daresay she thought the fortune ofthe institution made by such a donation! It will scarcely buy a packetof James' powders for one of the invalids!"

  "But when Clara spares five shillings, are we to give nothing!" askedMarion, seeing Sir Patrick's pompous butler, as usual, carrying awaythe book untouched.

  "Better give nothing than make ourselves ridiculous, like theGranvilles. Nobody will guess that this book was brought here! I wishClara had given her superfluous money towards the better equipment oftheir own one solitary man-servant,--the merest attempt at a footman Iever beheld, with such a lodging-house look! Like the waiter from somesecond-rate inn! Did you ever see anything so ugly, and out of taste,as that little yellow cottage of the Granvilles', standing close tothe old palace, like a kippered salmon nailed to the wall!"

  An angry flush burned upon the cheek of Sir Patrick, who did not trusthis temper with a reply to Agnes' tirade; and Marion hastily withdrewher eyes from his countenance, on perceiving that he had bit his liptill the blood seemed ready to spring, while his eyes flashed fire. Ina moment afterwards, he whistled half a tune, threw open the window,and finally hurried out of the room, while Agnes looked mysteriouslyat Marion, and said nothing, though the expression of her eye plainlytold that something was wrong.

  Sir Patrick never entered a church; but Sunday being a day of impunity,when he might go to his club, and become a gentleman-at-large, withoutthe possibility of being arrested, he invited a weekly supper party tomeet him at Douglass' Hotel, every Saturday night, punctually attwelve o'clock, which held together till so late an hour on Sundaymornings, that once having carried a candle to the door, when lettingout Captain De Crespigny, the day-light flashed in upon them, and theysaw the congregations passing along every street to church.

  Sir Patrick's life had now become one continual subterfuge. '_Il juraitbien, mais il payait mal_;' and he was heard frequently to declare,that he could not but fancy it might be, to an old experienced fox, agreat amusement, when he afforded a good day's hunting to sportsmen,from the strange delight he felt himself in baffling duns and teasingbailiffs. He cared for nothing, not even for his debts and creditors,but over-reached everybody, paid nobody, and treated all mankind indifferent styles of insolence; but his favorite diversion was, nearlyto out-stay the hour of twelve on Sunday night, knowing that hisill-treated creditors had offered a reward of L500 for his capture, andthat the whole way along the High Street, emissaries were ambuscaded,in the eager hope that some fortunate night the clock might strikeMonday morning before he was safely sheltered within the sanctuary.

  Once Sir Patrick had indeed lingered several minutes too late; andwhen he approached the ditch, forming a line of demarcation betweenthe debtor's refuge and the world in general, a rope was drawncompletely across the street, while two men like constables, in largeloose duffle coats, and hats slouched over their faces, had takentheir station, each holding it resolutely at opposite ends, in thecertain expectation of entrapping him, though the courage of bothseemed for a moment to waver, when they saw the tall, well-knit, andfinely-proportioned figure of Sir Patrick, as he strode onwards, withhis usual military bearing and commanding aspect. After exchanging alook, however, they tightened the rope, and were about, with a rapidmanoeuvre, to coil it round him, when Sir Patrick, seeing theirintention, rushed forward on the nearest, and levelled him to theground with a single blow, saying, "You dastardly rascals! do yousuppose that a dozen such fellows could be a match for any gentleman!"

  "I'm a better gen'lemen than you, Sir!" said the other, in an insolentblustering tone. "Every guinea in your pocket, Sir, there's ten men inthe world have a better right to than you have! I think a gen'lemanborn means a gen'leman as pays his debts!"

  "Then here is what I owe to you!" replied Sir Patrick, flinging himalmost across the street, with a violent blow on the head. "Only dareto stand in my way again, and every joint or bone in that miserablecarcass of yours shall be fit for the surgeons. I intend to keep thisrope till the day you are hanged!"

  Agnes made her Sundays literally a day of rest, by remaining most ofthe morning in bed, to recover the fatigues of the previous week; andeven in the afternoon, a "Sunday shower" often kept her at home. Shehad been taught at Mrs. Penfold's, to consider the most superficialattention to religion, as being little short of angelic, and tobelieve that the utmost extreme of rational devotion, if she wished tobe inordinately pious, would consist in going once every Sunday to apew in some fashionable chapel, where the stream of the preacher'seloquence might be permitted to flow in at one ear, and out at theother, without there being any occasion for her to analyse orunderstand what he said, satisfied that her duty was more than done byappearing there at all,--besides which, she occasionally read prayersat home, in a careless mechanical way, which was anything butpraying--she had a magnificently bound bible on her toilette, more forornament than for use--she wore all her dresses for the first time atchapel, dined on roast beef every Sunday, and spent the evening inwriting letters or in reading, or rather in sleeping over some volumeof religious poetry or tales--what Sir Patrick laughingly called "ahalf-good book."

  Both Agnes and her brother spoke with unmitigated and indiscriminatingreprobation of Methodists, Roman Catholics
, Unitarians, Independents,or any other sect of whom they knew the name, because, having alwaysbelonged nominally to an orthodox chapel, they considered it a matterof course, when thinking about the matter at all, that they must beorthodox too; though, if Agnes had been obliged to give a summary ofher own doctrines, it would have been a confused medley, containingmany of the heresies she reprobated by name, without knowing theirnature. Thus sailing down on the stream of her own inclinations,without effort or reflection, Agnes would have been indignant andastonished beyond measure to be told, that she was not performing in amost commendable manner "The Whole Duty of Man," or at least more thanthe whole duty of woman, while she looked upon all those who evinced agreater reverence for religion as mean hypocrites or fanaticalenthusiasts--being very much of opinion with the divine, who said thatorthodox meant his own opinion, and paradox other people's.

  Marion silently, and very unobtrusively, pursued the even tenor of herown way, with that deep and ardent devotion of spirit which had firstbeen awakened to life by the happy instrumentality of Clara, whoseapparent estrangement from her family now she deeply deplored, whilemany an anxious conjecture frequently crossed her mind, whether she,along with her brother and Agnes, must share in that alienation whichshe could neither fully understand nor in any degree diminish; and onthe Sunday morning after her arrival at St. John's Lodge, beforesetting out for chapel, she had been surprised and mortified toobserve, that Agnes' occupation in bed consisted in tearing up, tomake matches, a numerous collection of notes from Miss Granville, allcontaining apologies for not accepting various invitations to St.John's Lodge. "What can this all mean?" thought Marion, in agitatedperplexity, as she pursued her way to chapel. "It is very unlike Clarato be so repulsive! and equally unlike Agnes to be importunate! I fearsomething is greatly wrong; but Clara is too just and too good tomingle me in any quarrel of which I do not so much as know the cause.When we meet I shall at once ask Clara for an explanation. We must allyet be reconciled and happy, as in former days."

  There is nothing which extravagant people grudge so much as paying fora pew in church; and those often who squander money upon everythingelse, meanly evade subscribing this just and necessary tribute for themaintenance of religion and good order in society. It is astonishinghow many who pay their way with lavish liberality during the intervalto concerts and balls, will stand, week after week, like paupers, in achapel-aisle, begging for a seat, rather than hire one for the season;and on this occasion Marion, finding that neither Sir Patrick norAgnes had ever imagined any necessity for providing themselves with alocal habitation of their own, followed a stream of people intochapel, and stood for some time near the door, in that most awkwardand conspicuous of all situations, waiting for the chance of beingshown into a seat by some compassionate pew-opener.

  The street had been crowded by a dense mass of carriages, while Marionfelt almost bewildered by the loud crash of equipages driving up anddriving off, breaking the line and backing out, as if they had beenassembled on the benefit night of some popular actor, while a flood ofpedestrians crowded along the foot-path, as if their lives depended onbeing first. She was astonished also at the unprecedented concourse ofpeople already assembled in chapel, with looks of eager excitement andflushed expectation. Every aisle appeared filled to excess, and thestaircase seemed one solid mosaic of faces, while the congregationwere all crushing, elbowing, and pushing forward, in impatient haste.Voices were heard, at length, speaking aloud, in angry contention, forplaces--a sound which grated strangely and startlingly on the ear in asacred edifice; and when at length the heat became unbearably intense,a loud crash was heard, of persons breaking the window for air.

  Marion, intimidated at having ventured alone into so dense a crowd,and at a loss to guess what could occasion so much excitement, wouldhave made her way out; but the pressure behind rendered it asimpossible to retreat as to advance. On few occasions do people betrayso great a want of kind consideration, and even of hospitality, aswhen comfortably ensconced in an extensive pew at church, occupyingroom enough for three or four others, and carelessly staring at thosewho are vainly waiting, with hesitation and confusion such asMarion's, in hopes of being obligingly accommodated with a place. Hercolor deepening every moment, and her veil drawn closer, Marion shrankfrom notice, while one person after another elbowed his way forward,and closed the door of his pew, with the authoritative, self-satisfiedair of a proprietor, heedless how others might be situated; and stillMarion anxiously glanced around her in vain, for the obscurest nook inwhich to subside unseen.

  At length, when the first loud peal of the organ had sent forth itssolemn tones, summoning every heart to devout attention, Marion felt agentle touch given to her arm, and on looking round, her hand wasclasped for a moment with a look of heartfelt affection by ClaraGranville, who silently led her to the seat, at some distance, fromwhich she had followed her, and giving one more affectionate pressureof the hand to Marion, she composed herself into a look of devout andfervent attention, forgetful evidently of all but the importantservices of the hour, while Marion's heart beat with rapture to findherself once more beside her most beloved friend, and that friendunchanged.

  The prayers were not merely read, but prayed--not in the every daymatter-of-course tone, so common in the pulpit, nor in a pompous,self-sufficient, commanding voice, but with deep thrilling solemnity,and in a manner calm, graceful, and dignified, by a young clergyman ofmost intelligent and serious aspect, who evidently felt all he said,and became so utterly absorbed in his duty, that it appeared as if healmost imagined himself alone, and visibly present with the DivineBeing whom he addressed.

  The young preacher's appearance was singularly striking andprepossessing. His dark Spanish-looking complexion, and rather foreignfeatures, were animated by an expression of the brightestintelligence, while in his eye might be traced the calm dignity of ahighly cultivated intellect, and the benevolence of a Christian whohoped all things and believed all things, judging others as he wouldhimself be judged. In preaching, he avoided the arena of controversy,but his arguments were clear and comprehensive, his eloquenceirresistible, as much by the fire and splendor of his genius, as bythe depth and solemnity of his reflections, while the attention wasenthralled, the judgment convinced, the heart awakened, and the inwardfeelings touched in their most secret recesses. Without a thought ofaffectation, he was simple, dignified, full of earnestness,self-conviction, and fervent devotion, while there were passages ofgrandeur when he alluded to the solemn mysteries, and higher truths ofrevelation, which might have made a mere philosopher feel as if thewing of his imagination had been broken in attempting to follow; andyet there were thoughts and illustrations so clear and comprehensible,that any ignorant child from a charity school might have understoodthem.

  Amidst the brighter scintillations of his genius, it was evident thathe understood the whole alchemy of human nature, and while almostinsensibly revealing the magnificent proportions of his own mind, heunderstood and sympathised with all the trials, temptations, andsorrows of human nature, and considered the whole art of happiness forman to consist in unreserved and heartfelt submission of his own will,his own hopes, wishes, and affections to the will of his Maker,desiring to have nothing, to be nothing, to do nothing, and to expectnothing, but according to His wise and holy decrees--to let the streamof events run on, seeking to extract the best happiness from them asthey occurred, without one rebellious wish that they had beenotherwise, but only with a fervent prayer that they may, and a firmbelief that they shall, carry him forward, though the course be roughand perilous, to a calm, bright haven of ceaseless and unutterablejoy.

  When the congregation had dispersed, with a degree of silence andsolemnity very different from their noisy and irreverent entrance,Marion walked for some time, leaning on the arm of Miss Granville, butso entranced that she was unable yet to break the chain which hadcarried her mind and feelings captive to another and a better world.She had never before felt so deeply impressed with the transitorynature of all aroun
d her, the insignificance of those joys and sorrowswith which she was encompassed, and it seemed to her but a day or anhour, till the curtain of eternity should rise, and the glories of agreat hereafter become visible to her sight.

  "You have been deeply interested by all we have heard?" said Clara, inan accent of gentle interrogation, but with an expression of peculiarmeaning in her countenance, which Marion was at a loss how exactly tointerpret.

  "Interested!" exclaimed Marion, with youthful enthusiasm. "If all thesermons I ever heard were compressed into one, they could scarcelyequal what has been said to-day!"

  "Do you remember the preacher?" asked Clara, coloring and smiling."But no! how could that be possible, when you never met before! Herehe comes! Allow me to introduce you, then, to my very dear brotherRichard. You know each other already, by the description of one wholoves you both!"

  Mr. Granville advanced to Marion with frank and prepossessingkindness, but though his manner was most ingratiating, his countenancewore an expression of pre-occupation and fatigue, while he walkedhurriedly past, after cordially shaking Marion by the hand, whoobserved to Clara with surprise, that his hand felt as cold as ice.

  "That is always the case with Richard after preaching," replied MissGranville. "The solemn feeling of responsibility which he has onentering the pulpit, often agitates and overawes him to a degree youwould scarcely credit. The extravagant enthusiasm with which he haslately been followed, makes him still more anxious to use rightlywhile it lasts his influence with others, though, as he says, nothingis so transient in this transitory world as the popularity of apreacher, and his chief solicitude is to remind men that it is theword preached, and not the preacher, which they are come to hear, andalways to preserve the simplicity of his own mind, unadulterated byany inordinate wish for applause."

  "I am sure his words and thoughts have all the force of genuinefeeling," said Marion, earnestly. "He preaches from heart to heart,which is the only way to strike a light between them. It seemedto-day, as if he were steering us through an ocean of immeasurablethought."

  "But," replied Clara, "Richard is deeply impressed with the danger toa preacher himself, arising from the adulation with which he isfollowed by crowds in search of novelty, who give that respect to themere ambassador delivering his message, which he wishes to claimsolely and entirely for his Divine Master. He quoted to me yesterday aquaint old author, who says that God humbles men in this life, that Hemay exalt them forever; but Satan exalts men in this life, that he maycast them down for eternity. It is a solemn truth, and Richard feelsthe danger as he ought."

  "Then it is a danger no longer, if seen and rightly avoided," repliedMarion. "He already lives, I have heard, in a better world, while heacts in this, but so much applause must be apt sometimes to draw downyour brother's thoughts from heaven to earth, if he hears all that issaid and thought. Lady Towercliffe remarked, as we came out, that hiseloquence does him immortal honor."

  "Yes! as Richard himself once observed, 'immortal honor fortwenty-four hours, or perhaps a week;' but that is no object oflegitimate ambition to a preacher of immortality. My brother isblessed with one Christian attainment almost in perfection, and thatis an actual dread of worldly applause. No penny trumpet could be moreinsignificant in his estimation than the enthusiasm of a few excitableyoung ladies, and I have seen him often carefully avoiding those, whowould be 'frothing him,' as he calls it, with preposterous praise. Hecompares popularity to the sails of a windmill, raised to the cloudsone minute, and down below zero the next; but fashionable notorietyhas no attraction for one who aims at real usefulness. If he did notdespise it, he would despise himself. He is engrossed with thefervent, heartfelt hope of doing good according to his opportunity,and in perfect simplicity performing his duty to God and man."

  "How mean and low in comparison do those appear who are living onlyfor the opinions of men, and the trumpery tinsel of this world, yethow difficult it must be to rise above earthly ambition," said Marion."No patent of nobility could confer half the distinction on yourbrother that he enjoyed to-day, surrounded by a multitude all arousedto enthusiasm by his words. A mere author writes in solitude, andnever knows the full influence of what he has written; but an oratorreaps an immediate harvest of honor, and sees it before his eyes,which must be ten thousand times more apt to intoxicate him withsuccess."

  "Yes," replied Clara, "no enthusiasm can rival what is felt at themoment for a popular preacher. His eloquence rouses feelings strongerthan in any nature, while men become conscious that it would be theirhighest honor and best safety to encourage such thoughts as hesuggests. You would smile sometimes to see how Richard's steps arebeset as he leaves the chapel, by crowds anxious to catch a glimpse ofhis countenance, to request an introduction, to express their warmestthanks, to entreat he will print his last sermon, or to beg for anautograph."

  "It is taking pains to destroy what they most admire, when peoplethrow such temptations to vanity in a clergyman's way," said Marion."Even I could not but perceive, as he passed, the reverential glances,and the whispered announcement of his name on every side, as hehurried onward, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left; buthe sets an example of what he teaches, to live for high and holypurposes. It is only by carrying a light himself, that a clergyman cangive light to others."

  "Yes, Marion! it was not in mere words, of course, or of sacrilegiouspresumption, that Richard declared, on being ordained, his own solemnconviction that he was specially called to be a minister of thechurch. Unlike the Jews, who had Christ in their Bibles, but not intheir hearts, his whole spirit was imbued with the pure holy faith andmorality of the everlasting Gospel, and he considered it the highestof earthly honors to be consecrated for that solemn office."

  "I was often told formerly," said Marion, "that your brother hadtalents which would have raised him to eminence--or rather topre-eminence--at the bar, and in the House of Commons--or, as Pat hasalways said, meaning the greatest compliment of all--on the stage;but, dear Clara, how different, and how greatly superior, to feel, ashe must do, with an approving conscience, that all his abilities,time, and strength, are consecrated to an object, which his heart,without one momentary feeling of doubt or self-reproach, may delightin--that all his studies, duties, and occupations increase his ownfitness to be happy for ever; while, at the same time, they are forthe good of all mankind, and for the glory of God. Your brother mosttruly said to-day, that a sinner is 'the drudge of Satan;' but ifthere be real greatness upon earth, I think it is that of an honoredand useful minister in the Church of Christ, whose character ismodelled upon the Holy Scriptures, as some insects take their hue fromthe leaf on which they feed."

  "True, Marion! Richard's profession is, indeed, in the way he fulfilsit, 'twice bless'd,' as a means of both giving and receivinghappiness. It is with him a labor of love, in which every duty is apleasure, and his object is, to keep us in mind of our individualimportance in being believers; for as the glory of the sun isreflected in a single drop of dew, so may the character of Christ berepresented in that of the humblest Christian; and like a stone in anarch, each atom has a place to fill, which must be conscientiouslykept, whether more or less important and conspicuous, with unswervingsteadiness, for in no other can it be so advantageously situated."

  "I am entirely convinced of that," said Marion. "As your brother saidto-day, Christians must never feel themselves raised above the homelyduties of every-day life, nor give mere moralists occasion to say thattheir faith is not evidenced by their works."

  "No," replied Clara, "let the ravens croak while the eagle pursues hissteady flight towards the sun, heedless of all but his highdestination. Yet, as Richard says, Christian mothers should instructtheir own children, wives should find their first earthly duty inassociating with their husbands, the heads of houses should watchconscientiously over the belief and conduct of their servants, aclergyman's vocation is within his own parish, and every family shouldbe a little kingdom in itself, ruled and governed by the law and theGospel of Chris
t, so that, as benighted wanderers in the dark areoften cheered and guided by seeing, as they hurry onwards, the lightand warmth gleaming round the hearth of a stranger, the sinner, also,in his dark and dreary course, when he beholds a passing glimpse ofthat peace and joy which are to be found in a Christian household, andthere only, might be tempted and encouraged to go home and dolikewise."

  "I wish it were so oftener," said Marion, while her thoughts revertedsorrowfully to St. John's Lodge.

  "It is in speaking with single-hearted simplicity of home duties andhome affections, that Richard always excels himself," continued Clara,warmly. "There he preaches as he practices, for he cultivateshappiness to diffuse it all around him, and he is, in reality, allthat other men wish to appear. He deprecates, in general, pulpitoratory, as men are often apt to mistake mere excited feeling for truedevotion; and he considers that attention in church at most to bedepended on that which does not require to be pampered with novelty.Eloquence has so often been perverted to such evil purposes, bothmoral and political, that Richard sometimes tells me, he thinks, onthe whole, this world would have been a better world without oratoryat all, because brilliant talents and enthusiastic tempers usurp sooften the place due only to principle."

  "It often occurs to me," said Marion, "that half the actual history ofour own lives is unknown to us now, but will be probably revealedhereafter;--in what respect, for instance, our circumstances in lifewould have been altered, had we on various occasions acteddifferently--how near we may have been to meeting with great eventswhich never actually occurred--what impression has been made on othersby our conduct and actions--who really loved us, and what is theextent of good or evil which our conversation or our writings may havedone in the world. To your brother how many interesting discoverieswould such revelation probably disclose!"

  "Richard's own endeavor is generally to maintain a calm, rational, andargumentative style of reasoning with his congregation, and yet he iscarried away irresistibly by his feelings, sometimes into such a burstof eloquence as we heard to-day," added Clara; "you would sometimesfancy, even in conversation, that Richard's mind, like some greatvolcano, was undergoing an overwhelming eruption, while he pours forthin resistless torrents, the burning lava of his thoughts andfeelings."

  Marion listened with increasing interest to Clara's remarks, andwatched with affectionate sympathy, the kindling brightness of herfriend's expressive eyes when she spoke of that brother so tenderlybeloved, and so unspeakably respected, of whom, from his earliestboyhood, she had heard nothing but praise, for none had ever measuredthe stature of his mind without finding it higher than theyanticipated. Marion felt an unenvying happiness in the happiness ofClara, and yet a tear suddenly started into her eyes, and a pang ofunutterable sorrow struck upon her heart when she reflected, that, notmany years ago, her own brother, Patrick, had been the friend andcompanion of this highly-gifted man, but that now they were friends nomore, and becoming every day less suited to be companions.