The History of Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4 (of 7)

LETTER XX

MISS BYRON.—IN CONTINUATION TUESDAY NIGHT, | APRIL 11, 12. WEDNESDAY MORNING,|

Miss Grandison is no longer to be called by that name. She is Lady G–. May she make Lord G– as happy as I dare say he will make her, if it be not her own fault!

I was early with her, according to promise. I found her more affected than she was even last night with her approaching change of condition. Her brother had been talking to her, she said; and had laid down the duties of the state she was about to enter into, in such a serious manner, and made the performance of them of so much importance to her happiness both here and hereafter, that she was terrified at the thoughts of what she was about to undertake. She had never considered matrimony in that formidable light before. He had told her, that he was afraid of her vivacity; yet was loath to discourage her cheerfulness, or to say any thing that should lower her spirits. All he besought of her was, to regard times, tempers, and occasions; and then it would be impossible but her lively humour must give delight not only to the man whom she favoured with her hand, but to every one who had the pleasure of approaching her. If, Charlotte, said he, you would have the world around you respect your husband, you must set the example. While the wife gives the least room to suspect, that she despises her husband, she will find that she subjects him to double contempt, if he resents it not; and if he does, can you be happy? Aggressors lay themselves open to severe reprisals. If you differ, you will be apt to make by-standers judges over you. They will remember, when you are willing to forget; and your fame will be the sport of those beneath you, as well in understanding as degree.

She believed, she told me, that Lord G– had been making some complaints of her. If he had—

Hush, my dear, said I—Not one word of threatening: are you more solicitous to conceal your fault, than to amend it?

No—But you know, Harriet, for a man, before he has experienced what sort of a wife I shall make, to complain against me for foibles in courtship, when he can help himself if he will, has something so very little—

Your conscience, Charlotte, tells you, that he had reason for complaint; and therefore you think he has complained. Think the best of Lord G– for your own reputation's sake, since you thought fit to go thus far with him. You have borne nothing from him: he has borne a great deal from you.

I am fretful, Harriet; I won't be chidden: I will be comforted by you: you shall sooth me: are you not my sister? She threw her arms round me, and kissed my cheek.

I ventured to rally her, though I was afraid of her retort, and met with it: but I thought it would divert her. I am glad, my dear, said I, that you are capable of this tenderness of temper: you blustering girls—But fear, I believe, will make cowards loving.

Harriet, said she, and flung from me to the window, remember this: may I soon see you in the same situation! I will then have no mercy upon you.

The subject, which Sir Charles led to at breakfast, was the three weddings of Thursday last. He spoke honourably of marriage, and made some just compliments to Lord and Lady L–; concluding them with wishes, that his sister Charlotte and Lord G– might be neither more nor less happy than they were. Then turning to Lord W–, he said, he questioned not his lordship's happiness with the lady he had so lately seen; for I cannot doubt, said he, of your lordship's affectionate gratitude to her, if she behaves, as I am sure she will.

My lord had tears in his eyes. Never man had such a nephew as I have, said he. All the joy of my present prospects, all the comforts of my future life, are and will be owing to you.

Here had he stopt, it would have been well: but turning to me, he unexpectedly said, Would to God, madam, that you could reward him! I cannot; and nobody else can.

All were alarmed for me; every eye was upon me. A sickishness came over my heart—I know not how to describe it. My head sunk upon my bosom. I could hardly sit; yet was less able to rise.

Sir Charles's face was overspread with blushes. He bowed to my lord. May the man, said he, who shall have the honour to call Miss Byron his, be, if possible, as deserving as she is! Then will they live together the life of angels.

He gracefully looked down; not at me; and I got a little courage to look up: yet Lady L– was concerned for me: so was Lord L–: Emily's eye dropt a tear upon her blushing cheek.

Was it not, Lucy, a severe trial?—Indeed it was.

My Lord, to mend the matter, lamented very pathetically, that Sir Charles was under an obligation to go abroad; and still more, that he could not stay to be present at the celebration of his nuptials with Miss Mansfield.

The Earl, Lord G–, Lady Gertrude, and the doctor, were to meet the bride and us at church. Lord and Lady L–, Sir Charles, and Emily, went in one coach: Miss Grandison and I in another.

As we went, I don't like this affair at all, Harriet, said she. My brother has long made all other men indifferent to me. Such an infinite difference!

Can any body be happier than Lord and Lady L–, Charlotte? Yet Lady L– admires her brother as much as you can do.

They happy!—And so they are. But Lady L–, soft soul! fell in love with Lord L– before my brother came over. So the foundation was laid: and it being a first flame with her, she, in compliment to herself, could not but persevere. But the sorry creature Anderson, proving a sorry creature, made me despise the sex: and my brother's perfections contributed to my contempt of all other men.

Indeed, my dear, you are wrong. Lord G– loves you: but were Sir Charles not your brother, it is not very certain, that he would have returned your love.

Why, that's true. I believe he would not, in that case, have chosen me. I am sure he would not, if he had known you: but for the man one loves, one can do any thing, be every thing, that he would wish one to be.

Do you think you cannot love Lord G–? For Heaven's sake, Charlotte, though you are now almost within sight of the church, do not think of giving your hand, if you cannot resolve to make Lord G– as happy, as I have no doubt he will make you, if it be not your own fault.

What will my brother say? What will—

Leave that to me. I will engage Sir Charles and Dr. Bartlett to lend me their ear in the vestry; and I am sure your brother, if he knows that you have an antipathy to Lord G–, or that you think you cannot be happy with him, will undertake your cause, and bring you off.

Antipathy! That's a strong word, Harriet. The man is a good-natured silly man—

Silly! Charlotte!—Silly then he must be for loving you so well, who, really, have never yet given him an opportunity to shew his importance with you.

I do pity him sometimes.

The coach stopt:—Ah, Lord! Harriet! The church! The church!

Say, Charlotte, before you step out—Shall I speak to your brother, and Dr. Bartlett, in the vestry?

I shall look like a fool either way.

Don't act like one, Charlotte, on this solemn occasion. Say, you will deserve, that you will try to deserve, Lord G–'s love.

Sir Charles appeared. Lord help me!—My brother!—I'll try, I'll try, what can be done.

He gave each his hand in turn: in we flew: the people began to gather about us. Lord G– all rapture, received her at the entrance. Sir Charles led me: and the Earl and Lady Gertrude received us with joy in their countenances. I overheard the naughty one say, as Lord G– led her up to the altar, You don't know what you are about, man. I expect to have all my way: remember that's one of my articles before marriage.

He returned her an answer of fond assent to her condition. I am afraid, thought I, poor Lord G–, you will be more than once reminded of this previous article.

When she was led to the altar, and Lord G– and she stood together, she trembled. Leave me not, Harriet, said she.—Brother! Lady L–!

I am sure she looked sillier than Lord G– at that instant.

The good doctor began the office. No dearly beloveds, Harriet! whispered she, as I had said, on a really terrible occasion. I was offended with her in my heart: again she whispered something against the office, as the doctor proceeded to give the reasons for the institution. Her levity did not forsake her even at that solemn moment.

When the service was over, every one (Sir Charles in a solemn and most affectionate manner) wished her happy. My Lord G– kissed her hand with a bent knee.

She took my hand. Ah! Lord, what have I done?—And am I married? whispered she—And can it never be undone?—And is that the man, to whom I am to be obedient?—Is he to be my lord and master?

Ah, Lady G–, said I, it is a solemn office. You have vowed: he has vowed.—It is a solemn office.

Lord G– led her to the first coach. Sir Charles led me into the same. The people, to my great confusion, whispered. That's the bride! What a charming couple! Sir Charles handed Miss Emily next. Lord G– came in: as he was entering, Harkee, friend, said Charlotte, and put out her hand, you mistake the coach: you are not of our company.

The whole world, replied my lord, shall not now divide us: and took his seat on the same side with Emily.

The man's a rogue, Harriet, whispered she: See! He gives himself airs already!

This, said Lord G– as the coach drove on, taking one hand, and eagerly kissing it, is the hand that blessed me.

And that, said she, pushing him from her with the other, is the hand that repulses your forwardness. What came you in here for?—Don't be silly.

He was in raptures all the way.

When we came home, every one embraced and wished joy to the bride. The Earl and Lady Gertrude were in high spirits. The lady re-saluted her niece, as her dear niece: the earl recognised his beloved daughter.

But prepare to hear a noble action of Lord W–.

When he came up to compliment her—My dearest niece, said he, I wish you joy with all my soul. I have not been a kind uncle. There is no fastening any thing on your brother. Accept of this: [and he put a little paper into her hand—It was a banknote of 1,000£.:] My sister's daughter, and your brother's sister, merits more than this.

Was not this handsomely presented, Lucy?

He then, in a manner becoming Lady Grandison's brother, stept to Lady L–. My niece Charlotte is not my only niece. I wish you, my dear, as if this was your day of marriage, all happiness; accept these two papers: [The one, Lucy, was a note for 1,000£. and the other for 100£.:] and he said, The lesser note is due to you for interest on the greater.

When the ladies opened their notes, and saw what they were, they were at first at a loss what to say.

It was most gracefully done. But see, Lucy, the example of a good and generous man can sometimes alter natures; and covetous men, I have heard it observed, when their hearts are opened, often act nobly.

As soon as Lady G– (so now I must call her) recovered herself from the surprise into which my lord's present and address had put her, she went to him: Allow me, my lord, said she, and bent one knee to him, to crave your blessing; and at the same time to thank you for your paternal present to your ever obliged Charlotte.

God bless you, my dear! saluting her—But thank your noble brother: you delight me with your graceful acceptance.

Lady L– came up. My Lord, you overcome me by your bounty.—How shall I—

Your brother's princely spirit, Lady L–, said he, makes this present look mean. Forgive me only, that it was not done before. And he saluted her.

Lord L– came up. Lady L– shewed him the opened notes—See here, my lord, said she, what Lord W– has done: and he calls this the interest due on that.

Your lordship oppresses me with your goodness to your niece, said Lord L–. May health, long-life, and happiness, attend you in your own nuptials!

There, there, said Lord W–, pointing to Sir Charles, (who had withdrawn, and then entered), make your acknowledgment: his noble spirit has awakened mine; it was only asleep. My late sister's brother wanted but the force of such an example. That son is all his mother.

Sir Charles joining them, having heard only the last words—If I am thought a son not unworthy of the most excellent of mothers, said he, and by her brother, I am happy.

Then you are happy, replied my lord.

Her memory, resumed Sir Charles, I cherish; and when I have been tempted to forget myself, that memory has been a means of keeping me steady in my duty. Her precepts, my lord, were the guide of my early youth. Had I not kept them in mind, how much more blamable than most young men had I been!—My Charlotte! Have that mother in your memory, on this great change of your condition! You will not be called to her trials.—His eyes glistened. Tender be our remembrance of my father.—Charlotte, be worthy of your mother.

He withdrew with an air so noble!—But soon returning, with a cheerful look, he was told what Lord W– had done—Your lordship was before, said he, entitled to our duty, by the ties of blood: but what is the relation of body to that of mind? You have bound me for my sisters, and that still more by the manner, than by the act, in a bond of gratitude that never can be broken!

Thank yourself, thank yourself, my noble nephew.

Encourage, my lord, a family intimacy between your lady, and her nieces and nephews. You will be delighted, my sisters, with Miss Mansfield; but when she obliges my lord with her hand, you will reverence your aunt. I shall have a pleasure, when I am far distant, in contemplating the family union. Your lordship must let me know your Day in time; and I will be joyful upon it, whatever, of a contrary nature, I may have to struggle with on my own account.

My lord wept—My lord wept, did I say?—Not one of us had a dry eye!– This was a solemn scene, you will say, for a wedding day: but how delightfully do such scenes dilate the heart!

The day, however, was not forgotten as a day of festivity. Sir Charles himself, by his vivacity and openness of countenance, made every one joyful: and, except that now and then a sigh, which could not be checked, stole from some of us, to think that he would so soon be in another country, (far distant from the friends he now made happy,) and engaged in difficulties; perhaps in dangers; every heart was present to the occasion of the day.

O, Charlotte! Dear Lady G–! Hitherto, it is in your power, to make every future day, worthy of this!—'Have your mother, your noble mother, in your memory, my dear:' and give credit to the approbation of such a brother.

I should have told you, that my cousins Reeves came about two, and were received with the utmost politeness by every body.

Sir Charles was called out just before dinner; and returned introducing a young gentleman, dressed as if for the day—This is an earlier favour, than I had hoped for, said Sir Charles; and leading him to Lady G–. This, sir, is the queen of the day. My dear Lady G–, welcome (the house is yours—welcome) the man I love: welcome my Beauchamp.

Every one, except Emily and me, crowded about Mr. Beauchamp, as Sir Charles's avowedly beloved friend, and bid him cordially welcome: Sir Charles presenting him to each by name.

Then leading him to me—I am half ashamed, Lucy, to repeat—But take it as he spoke it—Revere, said he, my dear friend, that excellent young lady: but let not your admiration stop at her face and person: she has a mind as exalted, my Beauchamp, as your own: Miss Byron, in honour to my sister, and of us all, has gilded this day by her presence.

Mr. Beauchamp approached me with polite respect. The lady whom Sir Charles Grandison admires, as he does you, must be the first of women.

I might have said, that he, who was so eminently distinguished as the friend of Sir Charles Grandison, must be a most valuable man: but my spirits were not high. I courtesied to his compliment; and was silent.

Sir Charles presented Emily to him.—My Emily, Beauchamp. I hope to live to see her happily married. The man whose heart is but half so worthy as hers, must be an excellent man.

Modesty might look up, and be sensible to compliments from the lips of such a man. Emily looked at me with pleasure, as if she had said, Do you hear, madam, what a fine thing my guardian has said of me?

Sir Charles asked Mr. Beauchamp, how he stood with my Lady Beauchamp?

Very well, answered he. After such an introduction as you had given me to her, I must have been to blame, had I not. She is my father's wife: I must respect her, were she ever so unkind to me: she is not without good qualities. Were every family so happy as to have Sir Charles Grandison for a mediator when misunderstandings happened, there would be very few lasting differences among relations. My father and mother tell me, that they never sit down to table together, but they bless you: and to me they have talked of nobody else: but Lady Beauchamp depends upon your promise of making her acquainted with the ladies of your family.

My sisters, and their lords, will do honour to my promise in my absence. Lady L–, Lady G–, let me recommend to you Lady Beauchamp as more than a common visiting acquaintance. Do you, sir, to Mr. Beauchamp, see it cultivated.

Mr. Beauchamp is an agreeable, and, when Sir Charles Grandison is not in company, a handsome and genteel man. I think, my dear, that I do but the same justice that every body would do, in this exception. He is cheerful, lively, yet modest, and not too full of words. One sees both love and respect in every look he casts upon his friend; and that he is delighted when he hears him speak, be the subject what it will.

He once said to Lord W–, who praised his nephew to him, as he does to everybody near him; The universal voice, my lord, is in his favour wherever he goes. Every one joins almost in the same words, in different countries, allowing for the different languages, that for sweetness of manners, and manly dignity, he hardly ever had his equal.

Sir Charles was then engaged in talk with his Emily; she before him; he standing in an easy genteel attitude, leaning against the wainscot, listening, smiling, to her prattle, with looks of indulgent love, as a father might do to a child he was fond of; while she looked back every now and then towards me, so proud, poor dear! of being singled out by her guardian.

She tript to me afterwards, and, leaning over my shoulder, as I sat, whispered—I have been begging of my guardian to use his interest with you, madam, to take me down with you to Northamptonshire.

And what is the result?

She paused.

Has he denied your request?

No, madam.

Has he allowed you to go, my dear, if I comply, turning half round to her with pleasure.

She paused, and seemed at a loss. I repeated my question.

Why, no, he has not consented neither—But he said such charming things, so obliging, so kind, both of you, and of me, that I forgot my question, though it was so near my heart: but I will ask him again.

And thus, Lucy, can he decline complying, and yet send away a requester so much delighted with him, as to forget what her request was.

Miss Grandison—Lady G–, I would say—singled me out soon after—This Beauchamp is really a very pretty fellow, Harriet.

He is an agreeable man, answered I.

So I think. She said no more of him at that time.

Between dinner and tea, at Lady L–'s motion, they made me play on the harpsichord; and after one lesson, they besought Sir Charles to sing to my playing. He would not, he said, deny any request that was made him on that day.

He sung. He has a mellow manly voice, and great command of it.

This introduced a little concert. Mr. Beauchamp took the violin; Lord L– the bass-viol; Lord G– the German flute; and most of the company joined in the chorus. The song was from 'Alexander's Feast:' the words;

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the good deserves the fair:

Sir Charles, though himself equally brave and good, preferring the latter word to the former.

Lady L– had always insisted upon dancing at her sister's wedding. We were not company enough for country dances: but music having been ordered, and the performers come, it was insisted upon that we should have a dance, though we were engaged in a conversation that I thought infinitely more agreeable.

Lord G– began by dancing a minuet with his bride: she danced charmingly: but on my telling her so afterwards, she whispered me, that she should have performed better, had she danced with her brother. Lord G– danced extremely well.

Lord L– and Lady Gertrude, Mr. Beauchamp and Mrs. Reeves, Mr. Reeves and Lady L– danced all of them very agreeably.

The earl took me out: but we had hardly done, when, asking pardon for disgracing me, as he too modestly expressed himself; he, and all but my cousins and Emily, called out for Sir Charles to dance with me.

I was abashed at the general voice calling upon us both: but it was obeyed.

He deserved all the praises that Miss Gran—Lady G–, I would say, gave him in her letter to me.

Lord bless me, my dear, this man is every thing! But his conversation has ever been among the politest people of different nations.

Lord W– wished himself able, from his gout, to take out Miss Jervois.

The bridegroom was called upon by Sir Charles: and he took out the good girl, who danced very prettily. I fancied, that he chose to call out Lord G– rather than Mr. Beauchamp. He is the most delicate and considerate of men.

Sir Charles was afterwards called upon by the bride herself: and she danced then with a grace indeed! I was pleased that she could perform so well at her own wedding.

Supper was not ready till twelve. Mr. Reeves's coach came about that hour; but we got not away till two.

Perhaps the company would not have broke up so soon, had not the bride been perverse, and refused to retire.

Was she not at home? she asked Lady L–, who was put upon urging her: and should she leave her company?

She would make me retire with her. She took a very affectionate leave of me.

Marriage, Lucy, is an awful rite. It is supposed to be a joyful solemnity: but, on the woman's side, it can be only so when she is given to the man she loves above all the men in the world; and, even to her, the anniversary day, when doubt is turned into certainty, must be much happier than the day itself.

What a victim must that woman look upon herself to be, who is compelled, or even over-persuaded, to give her hand to a man who has no share in her heart? Ought not a parent or guardian, in such a circumstance, especially if the child has a delicate, an honest mind, to be chargable with all the unhappy consequences that may follow from such a cruel compulsion?

But this is not the case with Miss Grandison. Early she cast her eye on an improper object. Her pride convinced her in time of the impropriety. And this, as she owns, gave her an indifference to all men.

She hates not Lord G–. There is no man whom she prefers to him. And in this respect, may perhaps, be upon a par with eight women out of twelve, who marry, and yet make not bad wives.

As she played with her passion till she lost it, she may be happy, if she will: and since she intended to be, some time or other, Lady G–, her brother was kind in persuading her to shorten her days of coquetting and teasing, and allow him to give her to Lord G– before he went abroad.

LETTER XXI

MISS BYRON.—IN CONTINUATION WEDNESDAY, APRIL 12

Dr. Bartlett was so good as to breakfast with my cousins and me this morning. He talks of setting out for Grandison-hall on Saturday or Monday next. We have settled a correspondence; and he gives me hope, that he will make me a visit in Northamptonshire. I know you will all rejoice to see him.

Emily came in before the doctor went. She brought me the compliments of the bride, and Lord W–, with their earnest request, that I would dine with them. Sir Charles was gone, she said, to make a farewell visit to the Danby set; but would be at home at dinner.

It would be better for me, I think, Lucy, to avoid all opportunities of seeing him: Don't you think so?—There is no such thing as seeing him with indifference. But, so earnestly invited, how could I deny; especially as my cousins were inclinable to go?