Alida; or, Miscellaneous Sketches of Incidents During the Late American War.

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XXI.

  'Tis true indeed, there's danger in delay, Then let us speed, and hasten far away; For what of fear, or what of doubts molest, When deep affection reigns within the breast.

  Several weeks now passed away without any material occurrence, and theseason of the year came round when the winter's snow was passing fromthe face of nature, succeeded by heavy showers of rain, and the days hadbecome more pleasant, because they were something longer. The air wasmore salubrious, and invited the citizens to inhale its healthfuldraught without their dwellings, where they had been several months in amanner shut up from the inclemencies of the cold season.

  One morning after the family had taken breakfast, they sat talking overlate events and recent occurrences that had varied so materially withinthe last three months. In this conversation, they were unmindful of thehour, until Mr. Bolton, without ceremony, (as was his custom,) enteredthe breakfast parlour. After the usual salutations to her parents, andconversing some time with his aunt, he addressed Alida with his nativepleasantry, relating to her some stories of the satirical order as thecurrent news of the city. He afterwards informed her of the conversationbetween himself and her father, and in what manner the latter hadreplied. Alida remained silent, with her eyes fixed upon the floor, asif revolving in her mind what to say.

  In the meantime, he did not await her reply, but entreated her in themost pathetic language to consent to elope with him, and at all eventsto unite her destiny with his; at the same time telling her thatimplicit obedience to a parent's will, in an affair that so materiallyconcerned her happiness, could not be expected, and that her father wasmuch to blame in attempting to control her liberty of choice; saying,moreover, that after their views should be accomplished, that he had nodoubt whatever of his reconciliation. He had lately receivedintelligence of the death of an uncle in Savannah, who had bequeathed tohim his fortune. He was preparing for his departure thence. He wouldnot, therefore, give up his former project, and thought to avail himselfof this opportunity, (by all the rhetoric he was master of,) to urgeAlida to accept him and accompany him on his journey. He even proposedwhither they should escape from the eye of her father for theperformance of the marriage ceremony.

  [[This section is recycled from _A&M_, referring to the proposed elopement with Alonzo/Theodore. The passage was previously cited verbatim.]]

  Alida was truly shocked and surprised at a proposition so unexpectedfrom Mr. Bolton, after he had known her father's decision. She had neverconsidered him in any other light than as a brother; and being aconnexion in the family, they had always been on terms of friendlyintercourse. She, therefore, would have avoided this meeting if shecould have had previously an idea of the result.

  [_Alida_ page 125 (chapter XV):

  Alida was truly shocked and surprised at this unexpected visit from Bonville....]

  After he had made to her these several propositions, her displeasureheld her for some time silent, while it affected her mind sensibly.Nevertheless, she endeavoured to recover herself to answer him in adecided, and, at the same time, in a manner compatible with her presentfeelings. She commenced urging him to endeavour to forget her in anyother light than as a friend. "Can you suppose, Mr. Bolton," said she,"that I would set a parent's will at defiance, by committing so unwaryan action as to dispose of myself in a clandestine manner, nor could youagain imagine that I would give my hand where my heart has no particularregard." She scarcely uttered this, and could say no more ere heconjured her not to shut her heart against him for ever, and entreatedher to permit him still to hope that after a while her compassion mightbecome awakened to the remembrance of a sincere, true, and constantheart, which would cause her to heave the sympathetic sigh for one whocould never eradicate her from his memory, even for a moment, or chasefrom his bosom the esteem and love that time could neither weaken norextinguish. He was extremely sorrowful in taking leave of Alida and thefamily, and set out the ensuing day on his journey.

  Alida felt unhappy at the earnest importunities of a person she couldnot but have some esteem for. She could not fail to admire the superiorpowers of his mind. In his conversation, he was all that was agreeable,entertaining, and improving, which abounded with sallies of wit andhumour, joined to a fund of erudition acquired by a collegiateeducation. He was particular to associate only with young men of merit,talents, and genius. He possessed a native vein of satire, which hesometimes indulged with much effect; though, however, he had thisdangerous weapon under such thorough discipline, that he rarely made useof it in a way which gave offence to any. He never accumulated anywealth by his own exertion, as he thought what he already inherited wasmore than sufficient for all his wants. He seemed not to seek for anabundance, like many others, as necessary to his happiness, thinkingthat, with contentment, the peasant is greater than the prince destituteof this benign blessing, and that a competency, rather than asuperfluity, could convey real happiness to man. He thought, that to theimproper pursuit after happiness could be attributed much of the miseryof mankind; daily he saw dread examples of this serious truth, thatmany, in grasping at the shadow, had lost the substance. A near relativehad now been bountiful to leave him a fortune. That, however, he wasthankful for, as it increased his fund for charitable purposes. Hisintention was to get possession of this and return to the city ofNew-York, to make it his permanent residence.

  [_Lives of Signers_: Walton of Georgia:

  But he was attentive to merit; and towards young men of talents and genius he was respectful.... He possessed a native vein of satire, which he at times indulged with much effect. It is said of him, however, that he had this dangerous weapon under such thorough discipline, that he rarely indulged it in a way which gave offence to any. ... Mr. Walton never accumulated wealth, as he seemed not to have sought for it, as necessary for his happiness.

  [_NY Weekly_: Happiness:

  Content constitutes continual happiness; for with that sweet companion, the peasant is greater than a prince destitute of the benign blessing....

  How few, even in any state, do we find happy? Alas! the number is by far too few. To the improper pursuit after happiness, can we only attribute the misery of mankind; daily, nay even hourly, do we see dread examples of this serious truth. But where is the eye that has not beheld, the mind that has not felt, or the heart that has not pitied, some object who has, in grasping at the shadow of happiness, lost the substance....]