Tales and Novels Volume VII Part 10

LETTER FROM ERASMUS TO HIS FATHER.

"MY DEAR FATHER,

"Pray do not feel disappointed when I tell you that I am not getting on quite so fast as I expected. I a.s.sure you, however, that I have not neglected any honourable means of bringing myself into notice. But it is very difficult for a young man to rise without puffing, or using low means.

"I met Lady Jane Granville a few days ago. She gave me a note to Sir Amyas Courtney, a fas.h.i.+onable physician and a great favourite of hers.--She told me that he had formerly been acquainted with some of my family, and she so strongly urged me to wait upon him, that to avoid offending her ladys.h.i.+p, I promised to avail myself of her introduction.

"I called several times before I found Sir Amyas at home. At last, by appointment, I went to breakfast with him one morning when he was confined to the house by an _influenza_. He received me in the most courteous manner--recollected to have danced with my mother years ago, at a ball at Lord Somebody's--professed the greatest respect for the name of Percy--asked me various questions about my grandfather, which I could not answer, and paid you more compliments than I can remember. Sir Amyas is certainly the prettiest behaved physician breathing, with the sweetest a.s.sortment of t.i.ttle-tattle, with an inexhaustible fund of anecdotes and compliments for the great, and an intimate acquaintance with the fair and fas.h.i.+onable. He has also the happiest art of speaking a vast deal, and yet saying nothing; seeming to give an opinion, without ever committing himself.--The address with which he avoids contested points of science, and the art with which he displays his superficial knowledge, and conceals his want of depth, is truly amusing. He slid away from science as soon as he could, to politics, where he kept safe in commonplace newspaper-phrases; and in the happy persuasion that every thing is for the best, and that every man in power, let him be of what party he may, can do no wrong. He did not seem quite satisfied with my countenance as he spoke, and once or twice paused for my acquiescence--in vain.

"We were interrupted by the entrance of a Mr. Gresham, a rich merchant, who came to look at a picture which Sir Amyas shows as a true t.i.tian.

Mr. Gresham spoke, as I thought, with much good sense and taste about it, and Sir Amyas talked a great deal of amateur-nonsense. Still in the same namby-pamby style, and with the same soft voice and sweet smile, Sir Amyas talked on of pictures and battles, and carnage and levees, and drawing-rooms and b.a.l.l.s, and b.u.t.terflies.--He has a museum for the ladies, and he took me to look at it.--Sad was the hour and luckless was the day!--Among his sh.e.l.ls was one upon which he peculiarly prided himself, and which he showed me as an unique. I was, I a.s.sure you, prudently silent till he pressed for my opinion, and then I could not avoid confessing that I suspected it to be a _made_ sh.e.l.l--_made_, Caroline knows how, by the application of acids. The countenance of Sir Amyas clouded over, and I saw that I at this moment lost all chance of his future favour. He made me some fine speeches, when I was going away, and dwelt upon his great desire to oblige any friend of Lady Jane Granville's.

"A few days afterwards, I saw her ladys.h.i.+p again, and found, by her manner, that she had not been satisfied by Sir Amyas Courtney's report of me. She pressed me to tell her all that had pa.s.sed between us. She was provoked by my imprudence, as she called it, about the sh.e.l.l, and exhorted me to repair it by future attentions and complaisance. When I declined paying court to Sir Amyas, as inconsistent with my ideas and feelings of independence, her ladys.h.i.+p grew angry--said that my father had inspired all his sons with absurd notions of independence, which would prevent their rising in the world, or succeeding in any profession. I believe I then grew warm in defence of my father and myself. The conclusion of the whole was, that we remained of our own opinions, and that her ladys.h.i.+p protested she would never more attempt to serve us. Alfred has called since on Lady Jane, but has not been admitted. I am sorry that I too have offended her, for I really like her, and am grateful for her kindness, but I cannot court her patronage, nor bend to her idol, Sir Amyas.--

"Your affectionate son,

"ERASMUS PERCY."

LETTER FROM ERASMUS PERCY TO HIS FATHER.

"MY DEAR FATHER,

"I told you in my last how I lost all hopes of favour from Sir Amyas Courtney, and how determined I was not to bend to him.--On some occasion soon afterwards this determination appeared, and recommended me immediately to the notice of a certain Dr. Frumpton, who is the antagonist and sworn foe to Sir Amyas.--Do you know who Dr. Frumpton is--and who he was--and how he has risen to his present height?

"He was a farrier in a remote county: he began by persuading the country people in his neighbourhood that he had a specific for the bite of a mad dog.

"It happened that he cured an old dowager's favourite waiting-maid who had been bitten by a cross lap-dog, which her servants p.r.o.nounced to be mad, that they might have an excuse for hanging it.

"The fame of this cure was spread by the dowager among her numerous acquaintance in town and country.

"Then he took agues--and afterwards scrofula--under his protection; patronized by his old dowager, and lucky in some of his desperate quackery, Dr. Frumpton's reputation rapidly increased, and from different counties fools came to consult him. His manners were bearish even to persons of quality who resorted to his den; but these brutal manners _imposed_ upon many, heightened the idea of his confidence in himself, and commanded the submission of the timid.--His tone grew higher and higher, and he more and more easily bullied the credulity of man and woman-kind.--It seems that either extreme of soft and polished, or of rough and brutal manner, can succeed with certain physicians.--_Dr._ Frumpton's name, and Dr. Frumpton's wonderful cures, were in every newspaper, and in every shop-window. No man ever puffed himself better even in this puffing age.--His success was viewed with scornful yet with jealous eyes by the regularly bred physicians, and they did all they could to keep him down--Sir Amyas Courtney, in particular, who would never call him any thing but _that farrier_, making what noise he could about Frumpton's practising without a diploma. In pure spite, Frumpton took to learning--late as it was, he put himself to school--with virulent zeal he read and _crammed_ till, Heaven knows how! he accomplished getting a diploma--stood all prescribed examinations, and has grinned defiance ever since at Sir Amyas.

"Frumpton, delighted with the story of the _made sh.e.l.l_, and conceiving me to be the enemy of his enemy, resolved, as he declared, to take me by the hand; and, such is the magical deception of self-love, that his apparent friendliness towards me made him appear quite agreeable, and notwithstanding all that I had heard and known of him, I fancied his brutality was frankness, and his presumption strength of character.--I gave him credit especially for a happy instinct for true merit, and an honourable antipathy to flattery and meanness.--The manner in which he p.r.o.nounced the words, _fawning puppy!_ applied to Sir Amyas Courtney, pleased me peculiarly--and I had just exalted Frumpton into a great man, and an original genius, when he fell flat to the level, and below the level of common mortals.

"It happened, as I was walking home with him, we were stopped in the street by a crowd, which had gathered round a poor man, who had fallen from a scaffold, and had broken his leg. Dr. Frumpton immediately said, 'Send for Bland, the surgeon, who lives at the corner of the street.'

The poor man was carried into a shop; we followed him. I found that his leg, besides being broken, was terribly bruised and cut. The surgeon in a few minutes arrived. Mr. Bland, it seems, is a _protege_ of Frumpton's, who formerly practised human farriery under him.

"Mr. Bland, after slightly looking at it, said, 'the leg must come off, the sooner the better.' The man, perceiving that I pitied him, cast such a beseeching look at me, as made me interpose, impertinently perhaps, but I could not resist it. I forget what I said; but I know the sense of it was, that I thought the poor fellow's leg could and ought to be saved.--I remember Dr. Frumpton glared upon me instantly with eyes of fury, and asked how I dared to interfere in a surgical case; and to contradict his friend, Mr. Bland, a surgeon!

"They prepared for the operation--the surgeon whipped on his mittens--the poor man, who was almost fainting with loss of blood, cast another piteous look at me, and said, in an Irish accent, 'Long life to you, dear!--and don't let'm--for what will I be without a leg? And my wife and children!'

"He fell back in a swoon, and I sprung between the surgeon and him; insisting that, as he had appealed to me, he should be left to me; and declared that I would have him carried to St. George's Hospital, where I knew he would be taken care of properly.

"Frumpton stamped, and scarcely articulate with rage, bade me--'stir the man at your peril!' adding expressions injurious to the hospital, with the governors of which he had some quarrel. I made a sign to the workmen who had brought in the wounded man; they lifted him instantly, and carried him out before me; and one of them, being his countryman, followed, crying aloud, '_Success_ to your honour! and may you _never_ want a _friend_!'

"Frumpton seized him by both shoulders, and pus.h.i.+ng him out of the house, exclaimed, 'Success, by G----, he shall never have, if I can help it! He has lost a friend such as he can never get again--By G--, I'll make him repent this!'

"Unmoved by these denunciations, I pursued my way to the hospital. You know in what an admirable manner the London hospitals are conducted.--At St. George's this poor man was received, and attended with the greatest care and skill. The surgeon who has taken charge of him a.s.sures me that his leg will, a month hence, be as useful as any leg in London.

"Dr. Frumpton and Mr. Bland have, I find, loudly complained of my interference, as contrary to all medical etiquette--_Etiquette!_--from Frumpton!--The story has been told with many exaggerations, and always to my disadvantage.--I cannot, however, repent.--Let me lose what I may, I am satisfied with the pleasure of seeing the poor man in a way to do well. Pray let me hear from you, my dear father, and say, if you can, that you think me right--Thank Caroline for her letter.

"Your affectionate

"ERASMUS PERCY."

LETTER FROM ALFRED.

"My dear father, I have made all possible inquiries about Buckhurst Falconer. He stayed at Cheltenham till about a month ago with the Hautons, and I hear attended Miss Hauton every where: but I do not think there is any reason to believe the report of his paying his addresses to her. The public attention he showed her was, in my opinion, designed only to pique Caroline, whom, I'm persuaded, he thinks (between the fits of half-a-dozen other fancies) the first of women--as he always calls her. Rosamond need not waste much pity on him. He is an out-of-sight-out-of-mind man. The pleasure of the present moment is all in all with him.--He has many good points in his disposition; but Caroline had penetration enough to see that his character would never suit hers; and I rejoice that she gave him a decided refusal.

"Since he came to town, he has, by his convivial powers, his good stories, good songs, and knack of mimicry, made himself so _famous_, that he has more invitations to dinner than he can accept. He has wit and talents fit for more than being the buffoon or mocking-bird of a good dinner and a pleasant party; but he seems so well contented with this _reputation de salon_, that I am afraid his ambition will not rise to any thing higher. After leading this idle life, and enjoying this cheap-earned praise, he will never submit to the seclusion and application necessary for the attainment of the great prizes of professional excellence. I doubt whether he will even persevere so far as to be called to the bar; though the other day when I met him in Bond-street, he a.s.sured me, and bid me a.s.sure you, that he is getting on _famously_, and eating his terms with a prodigious appet.i.te. He seemed heartily glad to see me, and expressed warm grat.i.tude for your having saved his conscience, and having prevented his father from forcing him, as he said, to be a disgrace to the church.

"Rosamond asks what sort of girls the Miss Falconers are, and whether the Falconers have been civil to me since I settled in town?--Yes; pretty well. The girls are mere _show_ girls--like a myriad of others--sing, play, dance, dress, flirt, and _all that_. Georgiana is _beautiful sometimes_; Arabella, _ugly always_. I don't like either of them, and they don't like me, for I am not an eldest son. The mother was prodigiously pleased with me at first, because she mistook me for G.o.dfrey, or rather she mistook me for the heir of our branch of the Percys. I hear that Mrs. Falconer has infinite address, both as a political and hymeneal _intrigante_: but I have not time to study her.

Altogether, the family, though they live in constant gaiety, do not give me the idea of being happy among one another. I have no particular reason for saying this. I judge only from the tact on this subject which I have acquired from my own happy experience.

"Love to Rosamond--I am afraid she will think I have been too severe upon Buckhurst Falconer. I know he is a favourite, at least a _protege_ of hers and of G.o.dfrey. Bid her remember I have acknowledged that he has talents and generosity; but that which interests Rosamond in his favour inclines ill-natured me against him--his being one of Caroline's suitors. I think he has great a.s.surance to continue, in spite of all repulse, to hope, especially as he does nothing to render himself more worthy of encouragement. Thank Caroline for her letter; and a.s.sure Rosamond, that, though I have never noticed it, I was grateful for her entertaining account of M. de Tourville's _vis_: I confess, I am rather late with my acknowledgments; but the fire at Percy-hall, and many events which rapidly succeeded, put that whole affair out of my head.

Moreover, the story of Euphrosyne and Count Albert was so squeezed under the seal, that I must beg notes of explanation in her next. Who the deuce is Euphrosyne? and what does the letter P--for the rest of the word was torn out--stand for? and is Count Albert a hero in a novel, or a real live man?

"I saw a live man yesterday, whom I did not at all like to see--Sharpe, walking with our _good_ cousin, Sir Robert Percy, in close conversation.

This conjunction, I fear, bodes us no good.--Pray, do pray make another search for _the deed_.

"Your affectionate son,

"ALFRED PERCY."

Soon after this letter had been received, and while the picture of his life, and the portraits of his worthy companions were yet fresh in her view, Buckhurst Falconer took the unhappy moment to write to renew his declaration of pa.s.sionate attachment to Caroline, and to beg to be permitted to wait upon her once more.

From the indignant blush which mounted in Caroline's face on reading his letter, Rosamond saw how unlikely it was that this request should be granted. It came, indeed, at an unlucky time. Rosamond could not refrain from a few words of apology, and looks of commiseration for Buckhurst; yet she entirely approved of Caroline's answer to his letter, and the steady repet.i.tion of her refusal, and even of the strengthened terms in which it was now expressed. Rosamond was always prudent for her friends, when it came to any serious point where their interests or happiness were concerned. Her affection for her friends, and her fear of doing wrong on such occasions, awakened her judgment, and so controlled her imagination, that she then proved herself uncommonly judicious and discreet.--Prudence had not, it is true, been a part of Rosamond's character in childhood; but, in the course of her education, a considerable portion of it had been infused by a very careful and skilful hand. Perhaps it had never completely a.s.similated with the original composition: sometimes the prudence fell to the bottom, sometimes was shaken to the top, according to the agitation or tranquillity of her mind; sometimes it was so faintly visible, that its existence might be doubted by the hasty observer; but when put to a proper test, it never failed to reappear in full force.--After any effort of discretion in conduct, Rosamond, however, often relieved and amused herself by talking in favour of the imprudent side of the question.

"You have decided prudently, my dear Caroline, I acknowledge," said she.

"But now your letter is fairly gone; now that it is all over, and that we are safe, I begin to think you are a little too prudent for your age.--Bless me, Caroline, if you are so prudent at eighteen, what will you be at thirty? Beware!--and in the mean time you will never be a heroine--what a stupid uninteresting heroine you will make! You will never get into any _entanglements_, never have any adventures; or if kind fate should, propitious to my prayer, bring you into some charming difficulties, even then we could not tremble for you, or enjoy all the luxury of pity, because we should always know that you would be so well able to extricate yourself--so certain to conquer, or--not die--but endure.--Recollect that Doctor Johnson, when his learned sock was off, confessed that he could never be thoroughly interested for Clarissa, because he knew that her prudence would always be equal to every occasion."

Mrs. Percy began to question whether Johnson had ever expressed this sentiment seriously: she reprobated the cruelty of _friendly_ biographers, who publish every light expression that escapes from celebrated lips in private conversation; she was going to have added a word or two about the injury done to the public, to young people especially, by the spreading such rash dogmas under the sanction of a great name.

But Rosamond did not give her mother time to enforce this moral; she went on rapidly with her own thoughts.

"Caroline, my dear," continued she, "you shall not be my heroine; you are too well proportioned for a heroine--in mind, I mean: a heroine may--_must_ have a finely-proportioned person, but never a well-proportioned mind. All her virtues must be larger than the life; all her pa.s.sions those of a tragedy queen. Produce--only dare to produce--one of your reasonable wives, mothers, daughters, or sisters on the theatre, and you would see them hissed off the stage. Good people are acknowledged to be the bane of the drama and the novel--I never wish to see a reasonable woman on the stage, or an unreasonable woman off it.

I have the greatest sympathy and admiration for your true heroine in a book; but I grant you, that in real life, in a private room, the tragedy queen would be too much for me; and the novel heroine would be the most useless, troublesome, affected, haranguing, egotistical, insufferable being imaginable! So, my dear Caroline, I am content, that you are my sister, and my friend, though I give you up as a heroine."

CHAPTER VII.

LETTER FROM G.o.dFREY PERCY TO MRS. PERCY.