LETTER CXVII. MISS BYRON. [In continuation.] Saturday, April 1. DR BARTLETT is one of the kindest as well as best of men. I believe he loves me as if I were his own child; but good men must be affectionate men. He received but this morning a letter from Sir Charles, and hastened to communicate some of its contents to me, though I could pretend to no other motive but curiosity, for wishing to be acquainted with the proceedings of his patron. Sir Charles dined, as he had intended, with Sir Hargrave and his friends. He complains, in his letter, of a riotous day; yet I think, adds he, it has led me into some useful reflections. It is not, indeed, agreeable to be the spectator of riot; but how easy to shun being a partaker in it! How easy to avoid the too freely circling glass, if a man is known to have established a rule to himself, from which he will not depart; and if it be not refused sullenly, but mirth and good humour the more studiously kept up by the person; who would else, indeed, be looked upon as a spy on unguarded folly! I heartily pitied a young man, who, I dare say, has a good heart, but, from false shame, durst not assert the freedom to which every Englishman would claim a right, in almost every other instance! He had once put by the glass, and excused himself on account of his health; but on being laughed at for a sober dog, as they phrased it, and asked, if his spouse had not lectured him before he came out, he gave way to the wretched raillery; nor could I interfere at such a noisy moment with effect; they had laughed him out of his caution before I could be heard; and I left him there, at nine o'clock, trying with Bagenhall which should drink the deepest. I wish, my good Dr Bartlett, you would throw together some serious considerations on this subject. You could touch it delicately; and such a discourse would not be unuseful to some few of our neighbours even at Grandison-Hall. What is it not, that, in this single article, men sacrifice to false shame and false glory! Reason, health, fortune, personal elegance, the peace and order of their families; and all the comfort and honour of their after years. How peevish, how wretched, is the decline of a man worn out with intemperance! In a cool hour, resolutions might be formed, that should stand the attack of a boisterous jest. I obtained leave from Dr Bartlett to transcribe this part of the letter. I thought my uncle would be pleased with it. It was near ten at night before Sir Charles got to Lord W-'s, though but three miles from Sir Hargrave's. My lord rejoiced to see him; and, after first compliments, asked him, if he had thought of what he had undertaken for him. Sir Charles told him, that he was the more desirous of seeing him in his way to the Hall, because he wanted to know if his lordship held his mind as to marriage. He assured him he did, and would sign and seal to whatever he should stipulate for him. I wished for a copy of this part of Sir Charles's letter, for the sake of my aunt, whose delicacy would, I thought, be charmed with it. He has been so good as to say, he would transcribe it for me. I will enclose it, Lucy; and you will read it here: I CANNOT, my lord, said Sir Charles, engage that the lady will comply with the proposal I shall take the liberty to make to her mother and her. She is not more than three or four and thirty; she is handsome; she has a fine understanding; she is brought up an economist; she is a woman of good family; she has not, however, though born to happier prospects, a fortune worthy of your lordship's acceptance. Whatever that is, you will, perhaps, choose to give it to her family. With all my heart and soul, nephew. But do you say, she is handsome? Do you say, she is of family? And has she so many good qualities?-Ah, nephew! she won't have me, I doubt.-And is she not too young, Sir Charles, to think of such a poor decrepit soul as I am? All I can say to this, my lord, is, that the proposals on your part must be the more generous. I will leave all those matters to you, kins man. This, my lord, I will take upon me to answer for, that she is a woman of principle; she will not give your lordship her hand, if she thinks she cannot make you a wife worthy of your utmost kindness; and now, my lord, I will tell you who she is, that you may make what other inquiries you think proper. And then I named her to him, and gave him pretty near the account of the family, and the circumstances and affairs of it, that I shall by and by give you; though you are not quite a stranger to the unhappy case. My lord was in raptures: He knew something, he said, of the lady's father, and enough of the family, by hearsay, to confirm all I had said of them; and besought me to do my utmost to bring the affair to a speedy conclusion. Sir Thomas Mansfield was a very good man, and much respected in his neighbourhood. He was once possessed of a large estate; but his father left him involved in a law-suit, to support his title to more than one half of it. After it had been depending several years, it was at last, to the deep regret of all who knew him, by the chicanery of the lawyers of the opposite side, and the remissness of his own, carried against him; and his expenses having been very great in supporting for years his possession, he found himself reduced, from an estate of near three thousand pounds a-year, to little more than five hundred. He had six children; four sons, and two daughters. His eldest son died of grief in two months after the loss of the cause. The second, now the eldest, is a melancholy man. The third is a cornet of horse. The fourth is unprovided for; but all three are men of worthy minds, and deserve better fortune. The daughters are remarkable for their piety, patience, good economy, and prudence. They are the most dutiful of children, and most affectionate of sisters. They were for three years the support of their father's spirits, and have always been the consolation of their mother. They lost their father about four years ago; and it is even edifying to observe, how elegantly they support the family reputation in their fine old mansion-house, by the prudent management of their little income; for the mother leaves every household care to them; and they make it a rule to conclude the year with discharging every demand that can be made upon them, and to commence the new year absolutely clear of the world, and with some cash in hand; yet were brought up in affluence, and to the expectation of handsome fortunes; for, besides that they could have no thought of losing their cause, they had very great and reasonable prospects from Mr Calvert, an uncle by their mother's side; who was rich in money, and had, besides, an estate in land of 1500l. a-year. He always declared, that for the sake of his sister's children, he would continue a single man; and kept his word till he was upwards of seventy; when, being very infirm in health, and defective even to dotage in his understanding, Bolton, his steward, who had always stood in the way of his inclination to have his eldest niece for his companion and manager, at last contrived to get him married to a young creature under twenty, one of the servants in the house; who brought him a child at seven months; and was with child again at the old man's death, which happened in eighteen months after his marriage; and then a will was provided, in which he gave all he had to his wife and her children born, and to be born, within a year after his demise. This steward and woman now live together as man and wife. A worthy clergyman, who hoped it might be in my power to procure them redress, either in the one case or in the other, gave me the above particulars; and, upon inquiry; finding everything to be as represented, I made myself acquainted with the widow lady and her sons; and it was impossible to see them at their own Being fully authorized by my lord, I took leave of him over-night, and set out early in the morning, directly for Mansfield-House. I arrived there soon after their breakfast was over, and was received by Lady Mansfield, her sons, (who happened to be all at home,) and her two daughters, with politeness. After some general conversation, I took Lady Mansfield aside; and making an apology for my freedom, asked her, if Miss Mansfield were, to her knowledge, engaged in her affections? She answered, she was sure she was not: Ah, sir! said she, a man of your observation must know, that the daughters of a decayed family of some note in the world, do not easily get husbands. Men of great fortunes look higher; men of small must look out for wives to enlarge them; and men of genteel businesses are afraid of young women better born than portioned. Everybody knows not that my girls can bend to their condition; and they must be contented to live single all their lives; and so they will choose to do, rather than not marry creditably, and with some prospect. She I then opened my mind fully to her. was agreeably surprised: But who, sir, said she, would expect such a proposal from the next heir to Lord W ? I made known to her how much in earnest I was in this proposal, as well for my lord's sake, as for the young lady's. I will take care, madam, said I, that Miss Mansfield, if she will consent to make Lord W happy, shall have very handsome settlements, and such an allowance of pin-money, as shall enable her to gratify every moderate, every reasonable wish of her heart. Was it possible, she asked, for such an affair to be brought about? Would my lord-There she stopt. I said, I would be answerable for him; and desired her to break the matter to her daughter directly. I left Lady Mansfield, and joined the brothers, who were with their two sisters; and soon after Miss Mansfield was sent for by her mother. After they had been a little while together, my Lady Mansfield sent to speak with me. They were both silent when I came in. The mother was at a loss what to say; the daughter was still in greater confusion. I addressed myself to the mother. You have, I perceive, madam, acquainted Miss Mansfield with the proposal I made to you. I am fully authorized to make it. Propitious be your silence!―There never was, proceeded I, a treaty of marriage set on foot, which had not its conveniencies and inconveniencies. My lord is greatly afflicted with the gout; there is too great a disparity in years. These are the inconveniencies which are to be considered of for the lady. On the other hand, if Miss Mansfield can give into the proposal, she will be received by my lord as a blessing; as one whose acceptance of him will lay him under an obligation to her. If this proposal could not have been made with dignity and honour to the lady, it had not come from me. The conveniencies to yourselves will more properly fall under the consideration of yourselves and family. One thing only I will suggest, that an alliance with so rich a man as Lord W- will make, perhaps, some people tremble, who now think themselves secure. But, madam, (to the still silent daughter,) let not a regard for me bias you; your family may be sure of my best services, whether my proposal be received or rejected. My lord (I must deal sincerely with you) has lived a life of error. He thinks so himself. I am earnest to have him see the difference, and to have an opportunity to rejoice with him upon it. , I stopt; but both being still silent, the mother looking on the daughter, the daughter glanIcing now and then her conscious eye on the mother, If, madam, said I, you can give your hand to Lord W- I will take care, that settlements shall exceed your expectation. What I have observed, as well as heard, of Miss Mansfield's temper and goodness, is the principal motive of my application to her, in preference to all the women I know. them the proposal I had made; it might, perhaps, have engaged them all in its favour, as it was of such evident advantage to the whole family; and that might have imposed a difficulty on the lady, that neither for her own sake, nor my lord's, it would have been just to lay upon her. Lady Mansfield came out to me, and said, I presume, sir, as we are a family which misfortune, as well as love, has closely bound together, you will allow it to be mentioned To the whole family, madam !—By all means. I wanted only first to know, whether Miss Mansfield's affections were disengaged; and now you shall give me leave to attend Miss Mansfield. I am party for my Lord W—; Miss Mansfield is a party; your debates will be the more free in our absence. If I find her averse, believe me, madam, I will not endeavour to persuade her. On the contrary, if she declare against accepting the proposal, I will be her advocate, though every one else should vote in its favour. The brothers and sisters looked upon one another: I left the mother to propose it to them; and stept into the inner parlour to Miss Mansfield. She was sitting with her back to the door, in a meditating posture. She started, at my en trance. I talked of indifferent subjects, in order to divert her from the important one, that had taken up her whole attention. It would have been a degree of oppression to her to have entered with her upon a subject of so much consequence to her while we were alone; and when her not having given a negative, was to be taken as a modest affirmative. Lady Mansfield soon joined us.-My dear daughter, said she, we are all unanimous. We are agreed to leave everything to Sir Charles Grandison; and we hope you will. She was silent. I will only ask you, madam, said I to her, if you have any wish to take time to consider of the matter? Do you think you shall be easier in your mind, if you take time? But permit me to say, that were your affections engaged to the lowest honest man on earth, I would not wish for your favour to Lord W—. And, farther, if, madam, you think you should have but the shadow of a hope, to induce your compliance, that my lord's death would be more agreeable to you than his life, then would I not, for your morality's sake, wish-She was silent. you to engage. In a word, I address myself to you, Miss Mansfield, as to a woman of honour and conscience: if your conscience bids you doubt, reject the proposal; and this not only for my lord's sake, but for your own. Consider, if, without too great a force upon your inclinations, you can behave with that condescension and indulgence to a man who has hastened advanced age upon himself, which I have thought from your temper I might hope. I have said a great deal, because you, ladies, were silent; and because explicitness in every case becomes the proposer. Give me leave to retire for a few moments. I withdrew, accordingly, to the brothers and sister. I did not think I ought to mention to I will not at this time, my good Miss Mansfield, urge you farther. I will make my report to Lord W, and you shall be sure of his joyful approbation of the steps I have taken, before your final consent shall be asked for. But that I may not be employed in a doubtful cause, let me be commissioned to tell my lord, that you are disengaged; and that you wholly resign yourself to your mother's advice. She bowed her head. And that you, madam, to Lady Mansfield, are not averse to enter into treaty upon this important subject. Averse, sir! said the mother, bowing, and gratefully smiling. I will write the particulars of our conversa tion to Lord W, and my opinion of settlements, and advise him (if I am not forbid) to make a visit at Mansfield-House. [I stopt; they were both silent.] If possible, I will attend my lord in his first visit. I hope, madam, to Miss Mansfield, you will not dislike him; I am sure he will be charmed with you; he is far from being disagreeable in his person; his temper is not bad. Your goodness will make him good. I dare say that he will engage your gratitude; and I defy a good mind to separate love from gratitude. We returned to the company. I had all their blessings pronounced at once, as from one mouth. The melancholy brother was enlivened: who knows but the consequence of this alliance may illuminate his mind? I could see by the pleasure they all had, in beholding him capable of joy on the occasion, that they hoped it would. The unhappy situation of the family affairs, as it broke the heart of the eldest brother, fixed a gloom on the temper of this gentleman. I was prevailed upon to dine with them. In the conversation we had at and after dinner, their minds opened, and their characters rose upon me. Lord W will be charmed with Miss Mansfield. I am delighted to think, that my mother's brother will be happy, in the latter part of his life, with a wife of so much prudence and goodness, as I am sure this lady will make him. On one instance of her very obliging behaviour to me, I whispered her sister, Pray, Miss Fanny, tell Miss Mansfield, but not till I am gone, that she knows not the inconveniencies she is bringing upon herself; I may, perhaps, hereafter, have the boldness to look for the same favour from my aunt, that I meet with from Miss Mansfield. If my sister, returned she, should ever misbehave to her benefactor, I will deny my relation to her. SIR CHARLES, I remember, as the Doctor read, mentions getting leave for his Beauchamp to come over, who, he says, will supply his absence to him-But ah, Lucy! Who, let me have the boldness to ask, shall supply it to your Harriet?-Time, my dear, will do nothing for me, except I could hear something very much amiss of this man. I have a great suspicion, that the first part of the letter enclosed related to me. The Doctor Sunday Night, April 2. DR BARTLETT has received from Sir Charles an account of what passed last Friday between him, and Sir Harry and Lady Beauchamp. By the Doctor's allowance, I enclose it to you. In this letter, Lucy, you will see him in a new light; and as a man whom there is no resisting, when he resolves to carry a point. But it absolutely convinces me, of what indeed I before suspected, that he has not a high opinion of our sex in general; and this I will put down as a blot in his character. He treats us, in Lady Beauchamp, as perverse, humoursome babies; loving power, yet not knowing how to use it. See him so delicate in his behaviour and address to Miss Mansfield, and carry in your thoughts his gaiety and adroit management to Lady Beauchamp, as in this letter, and you will hardly think him the same man. Could he be anything to me, I should be more than half afraid of him; yet this may be said in his behalf;-He but accommodates himself to the persons he has to deal with :He can be a man of gay wit, when he pleases to descend, as indeed his sister Charlotte has often found, as she has given occasion for the exercise of that talent in him:-Yet, that virtue, for its own sake, is his choice; since, had he been a free liver, he would have been a dangerous man. But I will not anticipate too much; read it here, if you please. LETTER CXIX. SIR CHARLES GRANDISON TO DR BARTLETT. [Enclosed in the preceding.] Grandison-Hall, Friday Night, March 31. I ARRIVED at Sir Harry Beauchamp's about twelve this day. He and his lady expected me, from the letter which I wrote and shewed you before I left the town; in which, you know, I acquainted Sir Harry with his son's earnest desire to throw himself at his feet, and to pay his duty to his mother, in England; and engaged to call myself, either this day or to-morrow, for an an swer. Sir Harry received me with great civility, and even affection. Lady Beauchamp, said he, will be with us in a moment. I am afraid you will not meet with all the civility from her on the errand you are come upon, that a man of Sir Charles Grandison's character deserves to meet with from all the world. We have been unhappy together, ever since we had your letter. I long to see my son; your friendship for him establishes him in my heart. But-And then he cursed the apron-string tenure, by which, he said, he held his peace. You will allow me, Sir Harry, said I, to address myself in my own way to my lady. You give me pleasure, in letting me know, that the difficulty is not with you. You have, indeed, sir, one of the most prudent young men in the world for your son. His heart is in your hand; you may form it as you please. She is coming! she is coming! interrupted he. We are all in pieces; we were in the midst of a feud, when you arrived. If she is not civil to you In swam the lady; her complexion raised; displeasure in her looks to me, and indignation in her air to Sir Harry; as if they had not had their contention out, and she was ready to renew it. With as obliging an air as I could assume, I paid my compliments to her. She received them with great stiffness, swelling at Sir Harry; who sidled to the door, in a moody and sullen manner, and then slipped out. You are Sir Charles Grandison, I suppose, sir, said she; I never saw you before; I have heard much talk of you.-But, pray, sir, are good men always officious men? Cannot they perform the obligations of friendship, without discomposing families? You see me now, madam, in an evil moment, if you are displeased with me; but I am not used to the displeasure of ladies; I do my utmost not to deserve it; and let me tell you, madam, that I will not suffer you to be displeased with me. I took her half-reluctant hand, and led her to a chair, and seated myself in another near her. I see, sir, you have your arts. She took the fire-screen, that hung by the side of the chimney, and held it before her face, now glancing at me, now turning away her eye, as if resolved to be displeased. You come upon a hateful errand, sir; I have been unhappy ever since your officious letter came. I am sorry for it, madam. While you are warm with the remembrance of a past misunderstanding, I will not offer to reason with you; but let me, madam, see less discomposure in your looks. I want to take my impressions of you from more placid features: I am a painter, madam; I love to draw ladies' pictures. Will you have this pass for a first sitting? She knew not what to do with her anger; she was loath to part with it. You are impertinent, Sir Charles-Excuse me-You are impertinent. I do excuse you, Lady Beauchamp; and the rather, as I am sure you do not think me so. Your freedom is a mark of your favour; and I thank you for it. You treat me as a child, sir I treat all angry people as children: I love to humour them. Indeed, Lady Beauchamp, you must not be angry with me. Can I be mistaken? Don't I see in your aspect the woman of sense and reason?—I never blame a lady for her humoursomeness, so much as, in my mind, I blame her mother. Sir! said she. I smiled. She bit her lip, to avoid returning a smile. Her character, my dear friend, is not, you know, that of an ill-tempered woman, though haughty, and a lover of power. I have heard much of you, Sir Charles Grandison; but I am quite mistaken in you: I expected to see a grave, formal young man, his prim mouth set in plaits; but you are a joker; and a free man; a very free man, I do assure you. I would be thought decently free, madam; but not impertinent. I see with pleasure a returning smile. O that ladies knew how much smiles become their features!-Very few causes can justify a woman's anger-Your sex, madam, was given to delight, not to torment us. Torment you, sir!-Pray, has Sir Harry is Sir Harry cannot look pleased, when his lady dis-pleased: I saw that you were, madam, the moment I beheld you. I hope I am not an unwelcome visitor to Sir Harry for one hour, (I intend to stay no longer,) that he received me with so disturbed a countenance, and has now withdrawn himself, as if to avoid me. To tell you the truth, Sir Harry and I have had a dispute; but he always speaks of Sir Charles Grandison with pleasure. Is he not offended with me, madam, for the contents of the letter No, sir, and I suppose you hardly think he is-But I am Dear madam, let me beg your interest in favour of the contents of it. She took fire-rose up I besought her patience-Why should you wish to keep abroad a young man, who is a credit to his family, and who ought to be, if he is not, the joy of his father? Let him owe to your generosity, madam, that recal, which he solicits; it will become your character; he cannot be always kept abroad; be it your own generous work What, sir-Pray, sir-With an angry browYou must not be angry with me, madam— (I took her hand)—You can't be angry in earnest Sir Charles Grandison-You are-She with |