I could not forbear interrupting Mr. Stanley, by observing that nothing had surprised or hurt me more in the little observation I had made on the subject of marriage than the frequent indifference of parents to the moral, and especially to the religious character of the man who proposed himself. "That family, fortune, and connections should have their full share in the business, I readily admit," added I, "but that it should ever form the chief, often the only ground of acceptance, has, I confess, lowered mankind in my esteem more completely than almost any other instance of ambition, avarice, or worldliness. That a very young girl, who has not been carefully educated, should be captivated by personal advantages, and even infatuated by splendor, is less surprising than that parents, who having themselves experienced the insufficiency of riches to happiness, that they should be eagerly impatient to part from a beloved daughter, reared with fondness at least, if not with wisdom, to a man of whose principles they have any doubt, and of whose mind they have a mean opinion, is a thing I can not understand. And yet what proposal almost is rejected on this ground?" Lucilla's eyes at this moment shone with such expressive brightness that I exultingly said to myself, "Lord Staunton! I defy thee!"
"The mischief of this lax principle is of wide extent," replied Mr. Stanley. "When girls are continually hearing what an advantageous, what a desirable marriage such a young friend has made, with a man so rich, so splendid, so great, though they have been accustomed to hear this very man condemned for his profligacy perhaps, at least they know him to be destitute of piety; when they hear that these things are not considered as any objection to the union, what opinion must these girls form, not only of the maxims by which the world is governed, but of the truth of that religion which those persons profess?
"But to return to Mr. Flam. He passed through the usual course of education, but has profited so little by it, that though he has a certain natural shrewdness in his understanding, I believe he has scarcely read a book these twenty years, except Burn's 'Justice' and 'The Agricultural Reports.' Yet when he wants to make a figure, he now and then lards his discourse with a scrap of thread-bare Latin which he used to steal in his school-boy exercises. He values himself on his integrity, and is not destitute of benevolence. These, he says, are the sum and substance of religion; and though I combat this mistaken notion as often as he puts it in my power, yet I must say that some who make more profession would do well to be as careful in these points. He often contrasts himself with his old friend Ned Tyrrel, and is proud of showing how much better a man he is without religion than Ned is with all his pretensions to it. It is by thus comparing ourselves with worse men that we grow vain, and with more fortunate men that we become discontented.
"All the concern he gives himself about his wife and daughters is, that they shall not run him in debt; and, indeed, he is so liberal that he does not drive them to the necessity. In every thing else, they follow their own devices. They teased him, however, to let them spend two or three winters in town, the mother hinting that it would answer. He was prevailed on to try it as a speculation, but the experiment failed. He now insists that they shall go no more, till the times mend, to any of the advertising places, such as London, Brighton, or Bath; he says that attending so many fairs and markets is very expensive, especially as the girls don't go off. He will now see what can be done by private contract at home, without the cost of journeys, with fresh keep and trimming and docking into the bargain. They must now take their chance among country dealers; and provided they will give him a son-in-law, whose estate is free from incumbrances, who pays his debts, lives within his income, does not rack his tenants, never drinks claret, hates the French, and loves field sports, he will ask no more questions."
I could not but observe how preferable the father's conduct, with all its faults, was to that of the rest of the family. "I had imagined," said I, "that this coarse character was quite out of print. Though it is religiously bad, and of course morally defective, yet it is so politically valuable that I should not be sorry to see a new edition of these obsolete squires, somewhat corrected, and better lettered."
"All his good qualities," said Mr. Stanley, "for want of religion have a flaw in them. His good nature is so little directed by judgment, that while it serves the individual, it injures the public. As a brother magistrate, I am obliged to act in almost constant opposition to him, and his indiscretions do more mischief by being of a nature to increase his popularity. He is fully persuaded that occasional intoxication is the best reward for habitual industry; and insists that it is good old English kindness to make the church ringers periodically tipsy at the holidays, though their families starve for it the whole week. He and I have a regular contest at the annual village fairs, because he insists that my refusing to let them begin on a Sunday is abridging their few rights, and robbing them of a day which they might add to their pleasure without injury to their profit. He allows all the strolling players, mountebanks, and jugglers to exhibit, because, he says, it is a charity. His charity, however, is so short-sighted that he does not see that while these vagabonds are supplying the wants of the day, their improvident habits suffer them to look no further; that his own workmen are spending their hard-earned money in these illegal diversions, while the expense is the least mischief which their daughters incur."
Our next visit was to Mr. Carlton, whom I had found, in one or two previous interviews, to be a man of excellent sense, and a perfect gentleman. Sir John renewed with pleasure his acquaintance with the husband, while Lady Belfield was charmed to be introduced to the wife, with whose character she was so enamored, and whose gentle manners were calculated to confirm the affection which her little history had inspired.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Though Mr. Stanley had checked my impetuosity in my application to him, and did not encourage my addresses with a promptitude suited to the ardor of my affection: yet as the warmth of my attachment, notwithstanding I made it a duty to restrain its outward expression, could not escape either his penetration or that of his admirable wife, they began a little to relax in the strictness with which they had avoided speaking of their daughter. They never indeed introduced the subject themselves, yet it some how or other never failed to find its way into all conversation in which I was one of the interlocutors.