Mr. Oliphant, who is a perfect pattern of what every clergyman ought to be, and aided in his pious labours by an excellent sister, lives but to do good and make his parishioners happy. When he saw the circle of those friends, so justly valued, once more in their accustomed places, his glistening eye and uplifted hands seemed to say with old Simeon, “Let thy servant now depart in peace.”
The Sandfords, Stanleys, Mrs. Fitzroy, and various other agreeable people have had happy meetings at Marsden; and I will venture a prophecy, that Frederick, who longs to regain his native shores, will one day prevail upon the elegant Julia Sandford to bear him company thither. If strongly tempted, too, to lay a wager, though I do not consider bets to be the most convincing arguments, I might be persuaded to risk a few pounds upon the probability of two other matches, viz. one between Charlotte Douglas and Algernon Stanhope, and the other between an elder brother of Stanley’s and Louisa Howard. As to my own loves, if I have any, my dear Reader, you cannot expect me to divulge them: “Sink or swim, I carry my secrets with me,” which was the sagacious resolve of Mrs. Faulkner, wife to the celebrated George, of editorial memory, who asked her, on her death-bed, whether or not she had been a faithful sposa.
You will be glad to hear that Lawrence cleans the gravel walks still at Glenalta, and is never weary of recounting stories to his young mistress when she walks in the shrubbery, of all that had happened in her absence, Lisfarne looks glad once more, and the Beacon Hill is burned to brown from all the fires that have spread their glow over the beautiful bay which it overlooks.
Aunt Douglas shall close my narrative: she is the centre round which all these numerous rays converge, and the nearer they advance to her, the more nearly do they approach each other. How can human beings unite sincerely in loving the same object, and be at enmity amongst themselves? It is impossible. A year’s probation has so assured this self-denying mother that Marsden can never rival Glenalta in the hearts of her children, that a treaty is now on foot for disposing of a place which possesses no associations with past time to endear it to their memory. Frederick remains to complete the contract, and has hopes of bringing old Mr. Bolton with him to pay a visit in the Emerald Isle, which he has never seen, while it has fallen to my happy lot to attend the homeward bound group, Louisa making one of the party, and behold such joy as language fails me to describe. The roads were lined with happy faces, and welcome resounded from every mouth. Each step of the way produced increasing interest, till, in that verandah where I first met her sweet smile, I saw Glenalta’s guardian angel folded in the arms of her daughter.
Now, gentle reader, remember that it is not many years since I was one of that heartless multitude who laugh at all that they either do not comprehend, or that violates the rules which tyrant fashion imposes on her worshippers. I am, therefore, prepared for a shower of those epithets which I should once have liberally bestowed upon a book compounded of such materials as I have employed in mine. “Puerile”—“moral”—“prosy”—“dull,” are sounds familiar to my ear; and if they should be applied to me by those who still belong to the fraternity which I have quitted, I trust for ever, I must submit, yet not without reminding them, that I held out no false colours. I warned them of what was coming, and desired to be thrown aside at once by all who opened my pages, in expectation of finding a Novel full of striking events, or numerous incidents. I have been occupied in representing domestic life, and giving peeps into real character, not in furnishing scenes for the poet or the painter. But, though I am fully prepared both for yawners and revilers, I dare to cherish a hope, that some of those whose suffrage would repay me for a world of contumely, may find amusement as well as truth in my sketches. Amongst the fair sex I ought to be kindly received, for my anxious desire has been to assert their claims; and by endeavouring to exorcise the demon of Blueism, restore them to their just inheritance.
In order to this recovery of female birthright, I have attempted to illustrate in the memoirs of the Douglas family, that compatibility so frequently denied between the highest intellectual attainment, and the sweetest humility of heart I have tried to convince all who are not wilfully blind, that we have still under other names, our Lady Jane Greys, and Margaret Ropers, and that they can be as lovely and as feminine at the present moment, as in the age when those bright examples of excellence adorned society with their graces, virtues, and talents, though living under the tyranny of arbitrary government, while ours is the boasted æra of freedom, and “the march of mind.” Whatever be my fate, I must now bid you farewell. Even the kindest friends must part. Adieu, then, my dear reader. May you and I shake hands in affectionate brotherhood wherever we meet. If you were always of opinion that religion and virtue are indispensable to happiness; and that the most agreeable people in the world may also be the best; you have an advantage over me in never having strayed from the truth; but inasmuch as I have erred, I am desirous to proclaim my recantation, and returning to the nick-named Glenalta, lay down the follies of my youth, and sign myself a sincere and penitent convert.
Arthur Howard.
THE END.
PRINTED BY J. B. NICHOLS, 25, PARLIAMENT STREET.