NUMBER THREE.
We spake of Brummell's opinions of Canada. 'Canada,' said he, 'is a mere incubus on the already bloated back of England. The profits derived from the trade of that colony scarcely defray the enormous expenses of her establishments. Nor is this the worst. The question of her boundary will one day involve us in a most bloody and expensive war, demanded, perhaps, by national pride, but repugnant to our most vital interests; a war, too, with a nation of brothers, with whom we ought to have but one common view; that of peaceably extending our laws, language, and commerce, over the most distant part of the globe. Should there be a war, whether England emerges from that contest vanquished or triumphant, the consequences must be equally fatal. Alienation of the present strong and growing friendship will result, which must tend, more or less, to restrict the extensive commerce between the two countries, to the great injury of Great Britain; for though the United States may easily obtain from other countries the manufactures which she now obtains from us, at, in the first instance, a triflingly-enhanced price, yet the grand staple article of cotton cannot be purchased any where so good, or on such advantageous terms, as in the United States. The necessity imposed by war on that country of procuring manufactured commodities elsewhere, would, no doubt, continue in a great measure, by choice, after peace. The best thing England can do with Canada, is to present her (with her own consent) to the United States, or to manumit her from all colonial trammels, and declare her independent. Thus, by enlisting the pride of the Canadians on the side of a separate government, she may perhaps succeed in preventing a junction between this colony and the United States—if indeed England can be said to have any real interest in the hindrance of such a junction. Fifty thousand men sent over to Canada, in case of war with the United States, at the expense of twenty-five millions, will not suffice to keep Canada from being overrun by her powerful neighbours; all military speculations on the subject, to the contrary notwithstanding.'
Where is the mortal who has expatriated himself, without feeling a yearning after home? Home! magical word! bringing with it vivid recollections of the sweetest scenes of childhood, and those days of youth, when the mind, freed from care, bounds with joy at the slightest favorable event! Every man, in considering his home, looks only to the most pleasing events which occurred during his residence there, and is apt to consider all the disagreeable circumstances of his existence as receiving a still darker tinge from his stay abroad. Mitford was no exception to the general rule. He determined to return to London, at all hazards.
This resolve was confirmed by another motive. He had long loved—ardently loved. The life of dissipation, and even of riot, which he had led, had not been able to efface the holy passion from his soul. There it burned, at once a safeguard to, and a promoter of, other virtues. The fair Marguerite was lovely, rich, and constant in her attachment to him. Neither the sneers of friends, nor the ill reports of enemies, were able to efface his image from her mind. Friendship may be dissolved; fortune may desert us; but woman's love blossoms in eternal spring, and only blooms the more, amid the wintry blasts of adversity.
A late correspondence apprized him that her hand and fortune awaited him. This determined his movements, and he found himself in London. But the necessary preparatives for a marriage, however fortunate, require money—without which the wings of Cupid are clogged; and though Mitford might have relieved himself by an application to his lady-love, whose purse was at her own disposal, yet he could not bear to owe a favor before marriage.
He bethought himself of an expedient. Whenever a man wants money in London, the surest way to obtain it, is by offering to lend it, or by offering some great prospective advantage for the sum required. Many a man parts with what he has, to one whom he thinks will increase his store when he requires it; but no man parts with his money to one whom he thinks has none.
A dashing advertisement graced the pages of the 'Post' and 'Herald' newspapers:
'Extraordinary Facility.—The advertiser, possessing great influence in a certain high quarter, would feel disposed to promote the interest of any gentleman of standing and talent, who has a thousand pounds at his disposal. Address 'A. M.,' Standish's Rooms, Regent-street.
'N. B. No indiscretion need be apprehended.'
We need scarcely say, that our hero answered to the initials of 'A. M.' The applications were numerous. Mitford made a special appointment with one whom he thought likely to answer his purpose. He had chambers for the occasion in Lincoln's Inn.