The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I
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Susanna Moodie >> The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I
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"From Cornelius and his sister I received the most cordial and
affectionate welcome; but my pleasure was greatly damped by the bad
state of my friend's health: he looked so thin and consumptive, that I
apprehended the worst. This impression gradually wore off; but a few
months confirmed my fears. He was to commence his journey to Dover
early the next morning; and after passing a delightful evening in
company with his aunt and Charlotte, I rose to take leave, as I well
knew that my invalid friend retired at an early hour to bed.
"'Do not go to-night, Philip,' said he. 'It is the last we shall spend
for a long time together. I wish to have a friendly chat with you in my
dressing-room. Charlotte will make one of the party.'
"In a few minutes we were comfortably seated in the snug little room,
before a cheerful fire. My friend in his easy-chair, wrapped in his
dressing-gown, and my own beautiful Charlotte seated on a
gaily-embroidered ottoman at his feet.
"'Here, I feel myself at home,' said Cornelius, taking a hand of each,
pressing them warmly between his own. 'How much I dread this journey!
how painful it is to part with all we love on earth!'
"'Dearest brother, you will return to us quite strong and well after
breathing the warm air of the south,' said Charlotte, who could never
be brought to consider her brother in any danger. 'When we meet in the
spring, you win laugh at your present fears, and we shall be so happy
together.'
"Cornelius smiled faintly. 'I hope it may be so, my sweet Charlotte; to
that hope I cling, though I feel it daily becoming more feeble. Nor
would I leave England, did I not consider it my duty to embrace every
means which may tend to restore me to health and usefulness. But if I
should never return, my little Lady Bird, the world will run on as
merrily as heretofore. I should only be missed by a few faithful
hearts.'
"Poor Charlotte did not answer. Her head sank upon his knee; and I
thought I heard the tears, one by one, fall upon her rich silk dress.
"'Do not anticipate grief, my little sister,' said he, laying his hand
caressingly upon her drooping head. 'Let us be happy to-night, for we
know not what the morrow may bring forth. I wanted to speak to you and
Philip upon a subject very near my heart.'
"After a short pause, he continued with a lively, cheerful voice--'You
and Philip love one another; nay, do not turn away, Charlotte; there
ought to be no shame in confessing a virtuous attachment to a worthy
object.'
"Charlotte raised her eyes, moist with tears, and tried to smile; but
her head sank back to its resting place, and her blushing face was
hidden on his knee.
"'Now I am perfectly satisfied of the warmth and sincerity of your
affections, and will do all in my power to bring them to a happy issue;
but there are some difficulties in the way which must first be
surmounted, before you can hope to realize your wishes. You have
wealth, Philip, and moral worth; these ought to be sufficient to
satisfy the objections of the most fastidious. But your birth is
obscure, and your connexions not such as most old families would wish
to incorporate with their own. You will ask me how I came by this
knowledge. It does not matter; for these worldly objections have no
weight with me. It was, however, told to me by one well acquainted with
your history--who, as a guardian to Charlotte, will, I fear, never
consent to your marriage.'
"'There are few persons with whom I am sufficiently intimate to obtain
this knowledge,' I cried. 'His name--tell me his name.'
"'Robert Moncton--Sir Alexander's cousin and man of business.'
"I felt a cold shudder thrill through me. The hopes lately so gay and
buoyant shrunk back faded and blackened to my heart. 'Yet why should I
fear this man?' I argued; but I did fear him--like the ghost of the
dead Caesar in the camp of Brutus: he was my evil genius. I turned very
faint and asked for a glass of water.
"Charlotte gave it to me with a trembling hand. The brother and sister
exchanged glances of surprise; suspicion was aroused by my emotion.
"'Strange!' said Charlotte, musingly: 'he was always kind to my brother
and me. What have you to say against him?'
"'Not much; but I have a secret antipathy, a horror of this man, though
I never saw him but once, and that when quite a boy. I had a quarrel
with his son when a lad, which produced a rupture between Sir Alexander
and me, and neither father nor son ever forgave the imagined injury.'
"Charlotte looked thoughtful. It was evident that she was fond of her
guardian; while Cornelius continued the conversation, which was to me
both painful and embarrassing.
"I know Mr. Moncton to be implacable when he takes a dislike, and
considers himself ill-used, but we always have regarded him as a just
and honest man. The circumstances at which you have hinted, and which I
am rather surprised, that with all our brotherly intercourse, you never
mentioned before, will not increase your chance of success in gaining
him over to your wishes. But if I live, Philip, you will have little to
fear from his opposition. Charlotte and myself are both above the
common prejudices of the world, and prize you for your worth, which we
consider more than places you on an equality with us, and my little
sister here (and he fondly patted her head) has too high a sense of
honour to encourage hopes which she never meant to realize.'
"I took Charlotte's hand--our eyes met. Her face was again hidden on
her brother's knee; but my drooping heart began to revive, and I turned
to listen to the long harangue of my good friend with more interest and
attention, especially, as Charlotte's small white hand remained firmly
clasped in mine, to repay me for its dullness and prolixity.
"Now, my advice to you both is, not to enter into any engagement, and
to keep the matter of your affections known only to yourselves.
Confidence reposed in a third party is always hazardous, and generally
betrayed. This will lull Moncton's suspicions, for he can greatly annoy
you, should you marry Charlotte without his consent, before her
minority expires. Her property, which is considerable, would then go to
a distant relation.'
"'I have enough to support us both handsomely--why should our union be
delayed on that score?' I cried.
"'Softly, my dear friend. Lovers always talk in that strain--husbands
think differently. Why should Charlotte lose her just inheritance to
gratify the ardour of your passion? You are both young: Charlotte far
too young to marry. Four years is not such a great while to wait. At
the expiration of that time you can meet on equal terms, without making
such an enormous sacrifice. Am I not right?'
"We said he was, and tried to think so; but I am certain that in the
estimation of both his listeners, that that four years which seemed to
him so short, with us spread over a period as long as the life of
Methusalah. We tried to look forward, but shrunk back to the present.
Everything in prospective looked cold, blank--nay, even ugly and old,
at the end of the long vista of four years.
"We promised, however, to abide by his advice. I was sad and
low-spirited; and Charlotte, pleading a bad head-ache, kissed her
brother, received one from me, or, what in _his_ estimation, only
passed for _one_, and retired in tears, and I felt that the joy of my
heart had vanished.
"'Do not look so grave, Philip,' said my worthy friend: 'you will
overcome all these difficulties.'
"I shook my head, and sighed doubtfully.
"'I am sure you will. I have a presentiment to that effect. I saw you
in a dream last night, surrounded by a thousand dangers. As fast as you
got out of some trouble, you fell into a worse, and after I had given
you up for lost, you were rescued from the fangs of a tiger by a mere
lad, who led you back to Charlotte, and joined your hands.'
"He told this with such earnestness, that I, who was no believer in
signs and omens, laughed outright.
"He looked serious--almost offended.
"'You forget,' he said, 'that when man draws near his end, God often
opens the eyes of the soul, and reveals not only what is, but what
shall be. Oh, Philip, you who are so eager to win the affections of a
timid girl, how can you be so indifferent to the love of God?'
"'Nervous debility has rendered you superstitious, Cornelius. I have no
faith in the religious cant of the present day, in priests or
priestcraft.'
"This was my case two years ago. I was young and strong then. In the
possession of wealth and all those temporal blessings, for which wiser
and better men have to toil through a long life, and seldom obtain. The
world was before me, and death far distant, in my thoughts. But now,
the world is receding, and death is very near. You start! Have not you
discovered that truth before? Soon, very soon, nothing will remain for
me, but that blessed hope which I now prize as the only true riches. I
am happy in the prospect which I know awaits me, and consider those
only miserable to whom God is a stranger, and the love of the Saviour
unknown.'
"His words affected me strangely, and yet I felt that they were
distasteful. Sorrow had not taught me the knowledge of self. I had yet
to learn that religion alone can do that. My soul was grovelling in the
dust; my thoughts wholly engrossed by the world. Religion was to me a
well-invented fable, skillfully constructed, and admirably told, being
beautiful and artistic in a literary point of view, but altogether too
shallow to satisfy the reason of a clever fellow like me. Oh! how
repugnant are its pure precepts to those whose hearts are blinded by
vanity; who live but for the pleasures of the day, and never heed the
to-morrow in the skies.
"I sat down at a table near my friend, and began hastily to turn over
the pages of a volume which lay before me. It contained the admirable
writings of the Rev. Robert Hall. I pettishly closed the book, and
pushed it from me.
"As I raised my head, our eyes met. He evidently read my thoughts.
"'I do not wish to lecture you, Philip, nor do I condemn you. Your
mind, in its present unawakened state, cannot understand the sublime
truths you affect to despise. The blind see not; they cannot comprehend
the light, and we are not surprised that they stumble and fall. But I
love you too well, Philip, to wish you to remain in this state of
mental darkness. Read the Bible with the eyes of faith; think and pray,
and the true light will dawn upon your soul, as it has on mine. Let not
the ravings of fanaticism, nor the vulgarity of low cant, frighten you
from the enjoyment of the highest and noblest privilege granted to
man--the capacity of holding converse with his God. And, now, farewell,
my dear friend. I shall see you again in the morning; think over twice
what I have said to you before you go to sleep.'
"I retired to my chamber, but not to rest. I sat before the fire,
musing over, and trying to feel an interest in, the advice of my
friend; I knew it was good; I felt it was right and very natural, for
Cornelius, in his diseased state, to regard it as a subject of vital
importance, to cherish it as the last hope which could beguile his
mind, and reconcile him, to the awful and mysterious change which
awaited him. 'Poor Cornelius,' said I, 'dying men catch at straws! Will
your straw float you safely across the waves of the dark river? I fear
not.' And in this mood I went to bed, dreamt of Charlotte, and awoke in
the morning to regret the long years which must intervene before she
could be mine."
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON:
Printed by Shulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.
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