General Douglas, his sister, and Mr. Otway, exerted all their skill in rhetoric to dissuade George from deserting his native country. They represented most forcibly that inversion of mind by which people, neglecting the good that lies within their grasp, bend all their energies to distant objects. They endeavoured to convince him that so much remained to be done at home, that it was criminal to quit the post in which heaven had placed him, and yielding to a spirit of adventure, instead of being governed by the sober desire of usefulness, prefer the notoriety of this romantic scheme, to the less shewy, but more valuable purpose of being a kind landlord, and a resident gentleman in his native land.
Bentley’s principal fault is obstinacy, which he sometimes mistakes for firmness. He had determined, and was ready with more fluency of words, than depth of argument, to answer the reasoning of his friends. “He thought that a call should not be resisted. He considered the remarkable chain of events which had brought him into the Vallies of Piémont, as a providential appointment, a cord that drew him invisibly forward to his true destiny.” In vain was it urged in reply, that such arguments would legitimatize every absurd dereliction of duty, every wild vagary of adventure; and were fantasies like these permitted to carry conviction to the understanding, a country might be drained of all its inhabitants who were capable of exerting beneficial influence within its circuit, and the population be committed to anarchy and want.
Bentley remained fixed as a rock, and perhaps, secretly gloried in the double character of martyr and missionary, since he now encountered what he technically denominated “persecution.” To the Vallies he would go, and perhaps the real motive may never be fully revealed to his own mind, though we lookers on could not help perceiving very clearly, that the devoted and mutual attachment of Falkland and Emily Douglas, had been the true pivot on which his purposes turned. Love, in its common acceptation, never found a place in Bentley’s breast. He never knew what it was to be impelled either by ungovernable passion, which hurries some to ruin and abasement; nor was his heart formed to those all-powerful, but delicate sympathies, which though fine as threads of gossamer, yet irresistibly entangle the affections, and produce entire dependence for happiness on the reciprocal devotion of a beloved object. No, Bentley had seen that men and women usually marry. He had therefore contemplated marriage for himself. He saw children in most families, and without loving them, he supposed that he should one day be a father, as well as husband; but the utmost which his mind had ever accomplished in reducing these wide abstractions and “loose generalities,” to any practical bearing on his individual lot, was summed up in the following hypothesis. “If I should ever think of engaging myself to any woman, and resigning my present freedom, become a married man, I must endeavour to select a suitable companion; money is a sordid motive, though it is a necessary adjunct; beauty is a fading flower, yet the eye is fascinated by its charms; intellect is inspiring, but it often leads to vanity; religion is essential, but how do we know it to be sincere. If I were to think of marrying, I wish that it might be to Emily Douglas; but would she marry me?” These ifs and ands, had been so often laid before the imagination of George Bentley, that they became as habitual as breakfast, dinner, and sleep, probably occupying at stated intervals that period of coma, which intervenes between a full meal and a sound slumber, till by daily recurrence of Emily’s image, he had marked her insensibly for his own, and that too, without the slightest degree of personal presumption either respecting his powers of pleasing, or her feelings towards him. When, therefore, his eyes were first opened to the truth that Emily loved, and was beloved by another, he woke, as from a dream. He was astounded, puzzled. He felt unsettled, set adrift, or, perhaps like an owl when it is suddenly brought into the sun’s light from the tranquil shade of its ivied tower. At last, however, his mental optics accommodated themselves to a new focus. He was no longer confused, and his eyes were no longer dim. He then began to examine himself, and was obliged to make the inward confession, that no one had injured him. He was not in love. He had never given any one reason to suppose that he felt more than friendship, and all the Douglas family treated him with unvarying kindness and affection which had never passed that sober limit; but things are not so easily settled with pride.
Bentley’s had in reality nothing to do in the matter, for his had not received offence, yet by some extraordinary fancy, he did appear to take umbrage at the attachment, which was evident; and he did so perhaps, because he did not at first perceive it, and at the critical time of its becoming manifest to his senses, the expedition to the Vallies, opened a new vista to his mind, and gave an unexpected bias to his resolutions.
Frederick and I were hammering at something not far removed from this statement, when Mr. Otway came into the room, and in five minutes drew up the case as I have recorded it.
As time rolled on, the delightful mother of Emily Douglas, was called upon to approve a union which cannot fail of happiness. Emily and Charles Falkland are formed for each other. Virtue and talents lend all their influence to lay a solid foundation, while the lighter graces which belong to manners and accomplishments, give a finish to the charm that binds them to each other. Simplicity is a decided characteristic of both; and when the day arrived which General Douglas begged to hasten, in order that he might bestow a blessing with ten thousand pounds, which he presented to his niece there was no idle parade of dress and equipage. Not a single preparation which had display for its object, or vanity for its motive, marked this nuptial scene. It was the only marriage, except her sister’s, at which Louisa Howard had ever assisted, and what a contrast did it not present to the gorgeous folly of poor Adelaide’s hymeneals? A short tour to Geneva, Lausanne and Vevay, separated the Falklands but a little time from Turin, to which place they returned, and the dying couch of a beloved uncle was attended with all the tenderness which true affection can alone inspire. He lingered till winter had clothed the Alps in a fresh mantle of snow, and breathed his last in the arms of Frederick. Some months of repose were necessary to the shattered health of Mrs. Douglas, and she preferred remaining in Switzerland till the following spring, when the whole party arrived in safety at Marsden.
Though Emily’s marriage afforded a pretext for selling off the English property according to the letter of General Douglas’ will, his sister considered that to delay its sale was more in agreement with the spirit of his intentions, and she had consequently no hesitation in determining that Frederick should try the experiment of remaining in Hampshire for some time, while her son, implicitly relying on the counsels of his mother, acquiesced with alacrity in whatever she thought right. Marsden became the abode of whatever most exalts human nature, and the Douglas family possess the art of rendering virtue and knowledge attractive in such a degree, that their anxiety is to avoid, not to court acquaintance with the great. Their society is universally sought after, and none can exceed it.
Emily and her husband, as the avant couriers of Mrs. Douglas, accompanied Mr. Otway to Ireland, and have purchased Mount Prospect, to which they have given its ancient Irish appellation of Cairndruid, and which they are altering and beautifying, for their future home, when the family of Glenalta shall return to their dearly-loved abode.