Rank and Talent; A Novel, Vol. 2 (of 3)

by William Pitt Scargill

"'Twas pretty though a plague
To see him ev'ry hour; to sit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls
In our heart's table, heart too capable
Of every line and trick in his sweet favor."
Shakspeare.

Seeing that the Hon. Philip Martindale is married to an heiress, and has become Earl of Trimmerstone, our readers of course ought not to care any more about him, but to leave him to the enjoyment of his honors. At all events, we will dismiss him at present; and by going back a little way, bring to notice again the grand-daughter of old John Martindale. We have stated that when Horatio Markham left England to take possession of the office to which he had been appointed, he was in low spirits at leaving his native land, and that he more especially regretted the necessity under which he was placed of leaving Clara Rivolta; and more particularly so, as he had not ascertained the state of her feelings towards him, and was, till the very hour of departure, scarcely aware of the state of his own heart. It is not to be supposed that under these circumstances Clara should be totally indifferent; nor indeed was she. It was not for her to be what is called in love, but she had very much enjoyed Markham's company, and she thought him a well-informed and agreeable man. And when he was gone away she thought so much more, and she regretted his absence very much, and was very well pleased at reading again those passages which he had read to her in their favourite books. Signora Rivolta observed this attachment, and as circumstances then were, rather rejoiced at it, because she considered that it would be the means of preventing the formation of a hasty attachment among the numerous new acquaintances to which they were by their altered condition thus introduced. That Clara should be without lovers, was not a supposable case. Her person and manners were highly attractive and engaging; and when to these were added large expectations, it is not to be wondered at that many should pay her the homage of attention. Against these she was guarded, as Signora Rivolta apprehended she would be, by means of the undefined and unrecognised attachment to Markham. But there was a danger against which neither Signora Rivolta nor her daughter were at all guarded, and of which neither of them was suspicious. That danger was a female friend. There was not indeed in that case the immutability of the marriage-bond, but there was while it should last a very powerful impression.

Clara was young, susceptible, romantic, well informed by means of books, was possessed of good judgment and discernment; she was more familiar with standard writers than most young women, and was not aware that there was any pedantry in talking about them; she had also a taste for science; she had seen and observed but little of the world of humanity, but she had observed more of the world of nature; botany had been one of her studies, so had astronomy, and even geology; she had also a knowledge of the Latin tongue. To say the least of it, she was pleased with her knowledge. Whatever she had acquired had been by means of books, and those books were not numerous; and whatever came to her knowledge through that medium, came with all the authority of an oracle, so that any one who contradicted what her elementary instructions had taught her, or started any different theory from that in which she had nursed her own mind, appeared ignorant of the matter altogether. Coming forth into the world, she was surprised to find that her knowledge was beyond that of many with whom she conversed, and then she placed too high a value on that knowledge. A mind constituted and situated as that of Clara Rivolta, was in great danger of receiving from the vanity and conceit with which would-be knowing ones are gifted, an impulse not favorable to its graceful and proper development.

Lady Woodstock and her daughters had been introduced to the female part of his family by Mr. John Martindale, with the view of supplying them with certain intimates, to prevent accidental or disagreeable acquaintance. But it is not easy to manage such matters precisely according to preconcerted theory and design, for these very young ladies were the means of introducing Clara to a young lady who tried very hard to make her as great a simpleton as herself. The young lady to whom we refer was Miss Henderson, eldest daughter of Mr. Henderson, the popular preacher above-named.

Mr. Henderson not knowing what means he might have to provide for his family, very wisely gave them as good an education as was in his power; and at the same time, in order to have that education for them all as cheap as possible, it was his plan that the elder should teach the younger, that she might be thus partly prepared, should need be, to undertake with a greater stock of experience the task of instructing others. The young lady took instruction kindly and well. Her progress in every thing was really astonishing. Her music-master, her drawing-master, her French-master, never had such a pupil in the whole course of their experience. Masters say the same of all their pupils who are not paragons of stupidity. But in this instance there really was somewhat more truth in the commendations than is usually the case. Mr. Henderson was of course highly delighted with his daughter's talents. Mrs. Henderson was lavish in her praise of them, and profuse in her exhibition of them. The young lady was puffed into a mighty conceit of herself, and she very kindly pitied the ignorance and incapacity of the great mass of mankind. The young lady and her father and mother were not aware, that it was to a constitution of mind by no means enviable or desirable, that Miss Henderson was indebted for the great rapidity of her progress and the multitude of her acquirements. There were two causes of that progress; one was a prodigious share of vanity which would undergo any exertion or painful application in order to gratify itself; and the other was a total want of all power of imagination or principle of original and investigating thought, so that there was nothing to interfere with an undivided and close attention to any object of pursuit. The natural result of acquiring knowledge on these principles and from these causes was, that the knowledge was at last and best the mere lumber of memory, and the theme of vain prate and idle boasting, it was not food for the mind, it was not digested. There was scarcely a piece of music which Miss Henderson could not play at sight; but her style of playing was such as to weary rather than to fascinate; and to listen to the young lady's mechanical dexterity on the piano-forte, was called undergoing one of Miss Henderson's sonatas. There was the same hardness and absence of poetry also in her paintings. The outline was very correct, the colouring was accurate, the transcript complete, but there was no life in the living, no animation in the scenery. There was a provoking likeness in the portraits which she sometimes drew of her friends; and so proud was she of her skill in portrait-painting, that few of her acquaintance could keep their countenances safe from the harsh and wooden mockery of her pencil. Deriving a rich gratification to her vanity from her various accomplishments and miscellaneous acquirements, she fancied that her greatest happiness was in the pursuit of knowledge and the pleasures of science. Much did she despise the follies of the fashionable world, and very contemptuously did she regard the ignorant and half-educated part of the community, and that part in her judgment consisted of nearly all the world, her own self and one or two particular friends excepted. Into this select number Clara Rivolta was most graciously admitted.

Miss Henderson, though gifted with a most ample and comfortable conceit of her own superior powers and acquirements, was still not backward, but rather liberal and dexterous in administering the delicious dose of flattery to those whom she honored with her notice and approbation, as being superior to the ordinary mass of mortals. Clara Rivolta received the homage paid to her mind and acquirements as the effusions of a warm heart and generous spirit. It is possible, however, to mistake heat of head for warmth of heart. This was a mistake into which Miss Henderson was perpetually falling, both as it related to herself and to others. Not only was the young lady liberal in her praises of those whom she would condescend to flatter with the honor of her approbation, but she absolutely praised them at her own expense, expressing her high sense of their superiority to herself. But it should be added, that this kind of homage always expected a return with interest, and the language in which she praised her friends was only put forth as a model and specimen of that kind of homage which she should be best pleased to receive from her dear dear friends.