Tales and Novels Volume III Part 41

"They ought to be hunted by common consent out of civilized society,"

said Lady Delacour.

"They are by public opinion banished from all rational society; and your ladys.h.i.+p's just indignation proves, that they have no chance of being tolerated by fas.h.i.+on. But would it not allow such beings too much consequence, would it not extend their power to do mischief, if we perceived that one such person could disgust Lady Delacour with the whole race of chaplains?"

"It is uncommon," replied her ladys.h.i.+p, "to hear a physician _earnest_ in the defence of the clergy--and a literary philosophic physician too!

Shall we have an eulogium upon bishops as well as chaplains?"

"We have had that already," replied Dr. X----. "All ranks, persuasions, and descriptions of people, including, I hope, those stigmatized by the name of philosophers, have joined in admiration of the bishop of St.

Pol de Leon. The conduct of the real martyrs to their faith amongst the French clergy, not even the most witty or brutal sceptic could ridicule."

"You surprise me, doctor!" said Lady Delacour; "for I a.s.sure you that you have the character of being very liberal in your opinions."

"I hope I am liberal in my opinions," replied the doctor, "and that I give your ladys.h.i.+p a proof of it."

"You would not then persecute a man or woman with ridicule for believing more than you do?" said Lady Delacour.

"Those who persecute, to overturn religion, can scarcely pretend to more philosophy, or more liberality, than those who persecute to support it,"

said Dr. X----.

"Perhaps, doctor, you are only speaking popularly?"

"I believe what I now say to be true," said Dr. X----, "and I always endeavour to make truth popular."

"But possibly these are only truths for ladies. Doctor X---- may be such an ungallant philosopher, as to think that some truths are not fit for ladies. He may hold a different language with gentlemen."

"I should not only be an ungallant but a weak philosopher," said Dr.

X----, "if I thought that truth was not the same for all the world who can understand it. And who can doubt Lady Delacour's being of that number?"

Lady Delacour, who, at the beginning of this conversation, had spoken guardedly, from the fear of lowering the doctor's opinion of her understanding, was put at her ease by the manner in which he now spoke; and, half laying aside the tone of raillery, she said to him, "Well, doctor! seriously, I am not so _illiberal_ as to condemn _all_ chaplains for one, odious as he was. But where to find his contrast in these degenerate days? Can you, who are a defender of the faith, and so forth, a.s.sist me? Will you recommend a chaplain to my lord?"

"Willingly," said Dr. X----; "and that is what I would not say for a world of fees, unless I were sure of my man."

"What sort of a man is he?"

"Not a buck parson."

"And I hope not a pedant, not a dogmatist, for that would be almost as bad. Before we domesticate another chaplain, I wish to know all his qualities, and to have a full and true description of him."

"Shall I then give you a full and true description of him in the words of Chaucer?"

"In any words you please. But Chaucer's chaplain must be a little old-fas.h.i.+oned by this time, I should think."

"Pardon me. Some people, as well as some things, never grow old-fas.h.i.+oned. I should not be ashamed to produce Chaucer's parish priest at this day to the best company in England--I am not ashamed to produce him to your ladys.h.i.+p; and if I can remember twenty lines in his favour, I hope you will give me credit for being a sincere friend to the worthy part of the clergy. Observe, you must take them as I can patch them together; I will not promise that I can recollect twenty lines _de suite_, and without missing a word; that is what I would not swear to do for His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury."

"His Grace will probably excuse you from swearing; at least I will,"

said Lady Delacour, "on the present occasion: so now for your twenty lines in whatever order you please."

Doctor X----, with sundry intervals of recollection, which may be spared the reader, repeated the following lines:

"Yet has his aspect nothing of severe, But such a face as promised him sincere.

Nothing reserved or sullen was to see, But sweet regards, and pleasing sanct.i.ty, Mild was his accent, and his action free.

With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd, Though harsh the precept, yet the preacher charm'd; For, letting down the golden chain from high, He drew his audience upwards to the sky.

He taught the Gospel rather than the law, And forced himself to drive, but loved to draw.

The t.i.thes his parish freely paid, he took; But never sued, or curs'd with bell and book.

Wide was his parish, not contracted close In streets--but here and there a straggling house.

Yet still he was at hand, without request, To serve the sick, and succour the distressed.

The proud he tamed, the penitent he cheer'd, Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'd.

His preaching much, but more his practice wrought, A living sermon of the truths he taught."

Lady Delacour wished that she could find a chaplain, who in any degree resembled this charming parish priest, and Dr. X----promised that he would the next day introduce to her his friend Mr. Moreton.

"Mr. Moreton!" said Belinda, "the gentleman of whom Mr. Percival spoke, Mrs. Freke's Mr. Moreton?"

"Yes," said Dr. X----, "the clergyman whom Mrs. Freke hanged in effigy, and to whom Clarence Hervey has given a small living."

These circ.u.mstances, even if he had not precisely resembled Chaucer's character of a benevolent clergyman, would have strongly interested Lady Delacour in his favour. She found him, upon farther acquaintance, a perfect contrast to her former chaplain; and he gradually acquired such salutary influence over her mind, that he relieved her from the terrors of methodism, and in their place subst.i.tuted the consolations of mild and rational piety.

Her conscience was now at peace; her spirits were real and equable, and never was her conversation so agreeable. Animated with the new feelings of returning health, and the new hopes of domestic happiness, she seemed desirous to impart her felicity to all around her, but chiefly to Belinda, who had the strongest claims upon her grat.i.tude, and the warmest place in her affections. Belinda never made her friend feel the weight of any obligation, and consequently Lady Delacour's grat.i.tude was a voluntary pleasure--not an expected duty. Nothing could be more delightful to Miss Portman than thus to feel herself the object at once of esteem, affection, and respect; to see that she had not only been the means of saving her friend's life, but that the influence she had obtained over her mind was likely to be so permanently beneficial both to her and to her family.

Belinda did not take all the merit of this reformation to herself: she was most willing to share it, in her own imagination, not only with Dr.

X----and Mr. Moreton, but with poor Clarence Hervey. She was pleased to observe that Lady Delacour never omitted any occasion of doing justice to his merit, and she loved her for that generosity, which sometimes pa.s.sed the bounds of justice in her eulogiums. But Belinda was careful to preserve her consistency, and to guard her heart from the dangerous effect of these enthusiastic praises; and as Lady Delacour was now sufficiently re-established in her health, she announced her intention of returning immediately to Oakly-park, according to her promise to Lady Anne Percival and to Mr. Vincent.

"But, my dear," said Lady Delacour, "one week more is all I ask from you--may not friends.h.i.+p ask such a sacrifice from love?"

"You expect, I know," said Miss Portman, ingenuously, "that before the end of that time Mr. Hervey will be here."

"True. And have you no friends.h.i.+p for him?" said Lady Delacour with an arch smile, "or is friends.h.i.+p for every man in the creation, one Augustus Vincent always excepted, prohibited by the statutes of Oakly-park?"

"By the statutes of Oakly-park nothing is forbidden," said Belinda, "but what reason--"

"Reason! Oh, I have done if you go to reason! You are invulnerable to the light shafts of wit, I know, when you are cased in this heavy armour of reason; Cupid himself may strain his bow, and exhaust his quiver upon you in vain. But have a care--you cannot live in armour all your life--lay it aside but for a moment, and the little bold urchin will make it his prize. Remember, in one of Raphael's pictures, Cupid creeping into the armour of the conqueror of the world."

"I am sufficiently aware," said Belinda, smiling, "of the power of Cupid, and of his wiles. I would not brave his malice, but I will fly from it."

"It is so cowardly to fly!"

"Surely prudence, not courage, is the virtue of our s.e.x; and seriously, my dear Lady Delacour, I entreat you not to use your influence over my mind, lest you should lessen my happiness, though you cannot alter my determination."

Moved by the earnest manner in which Belinda uttered these words, Lady Delacour rallied her no more, nor did she longer oppose her resolution of returning immediately to Oakly-park.

"May I remind you," said Miss Portman, "though it is seldom either politic or polite, to remind people of their promises,--but may I remind you of something like a promise you made, to accompany me to Mr.

Percival's?"

"And would you have me behave so brutally to poor Lord Delacour, as to run away from him in this manner the moment I have strength to run?"

"Lord Delacour is included in this invitation," said Miss Portman, putting the last letter that she had received from Lady Anne Percival into her hands.

"When I recollect," said Lady Delacour, as she looked over the letter, "how well this Lady Anne of yours has behaved to me about Helena, when I recollect, that, though you have been with her so long, she has not supplanted me in your affections, and that she did not attempt to detain you when I sent Marriott to Oakly-park, and when I consider how much for my own advantage it will be to accept this invitation, I really cannot bring myself, from pride, or folly, or any other motive, to refuse it.

So, my dear Belinda, prevail upon Lord Delacour to spend his Christmas at Oakly-park, instead of at Studley-manor (Rantipole, thank Heaven! is out of the question), and prevail upon yourself to stay a few days for me, and you shall take us all with you in triumph."