Anna St. Ives Part 48

Come to my aid, Fairfax; encourage me; feed my vanity; let hungry ambition banquet and allow me to be a hero, lest I relent: for, were I not or Lucifer or c.o.ke Clifton, 'tis certain I should not persevere. By the host of heaven, Fairfax, but she is a divine creature! She steals upon the soul! A heart of rock could not resist her! Nor are they wiles, nor woman's lures, nor blandishments of tricksey dimples, nor captivating smiles, with which she forms her adamantine fetters. No; 'tis the open soul of honesty; true, sincere, and unrelentingly just, to me, to herself, to all; 'tis that enchanting kindness, that heavenly suavity which never forsakes her; that equanimity of smiling yet obstinate fort.i.tude; that hilarity of heart that knows not gloom because it knows not evil; that inscrutable purity which rests secure that all like itself are natively immaculate; that--Pshaw!--I can find no words, find you imagination therefore, and think not I will labour at impossibility. You have read of ancient vestals, of the virgins of Paradise, and of demi-deities that tune their golden harps on high?--Read again--And, having travelled with prophets and apostles to the heaven of heavens, descend and view her, and invent me language to describe her, if you can!

Curse on this Frank Henley! But for him my vengeance never would have been roused! Never would the fatal sentence have pa.s.sed my lips!--'Tis now irrevocable--Sure as the lofty walls of Troy were doomed by G.o.ds and destiny to smoke in ruins, so surely must the high-souled Anna fall--'Ill starred wench!'--I, Fairfax, like other conquerors, cannot shut pity from my bosom. While I cry havoc I could almost weep; could look reluctant down on devastation which myself had made, and heave a sigh, and curse my proper prowess!--In love and war alike, such, Fairfax, is towering ambition. It must have victims: its reckless altars ask a full and large supply; and when perchance a snowy lamb, spotless and pure, bedecked for sacrifice, in all the artless pomp of unsuspecting innocence is brought, bright burns the flame, the white clouds curl and mantle up to heaven, and there ambition proudly sits, and snuffs with glut of l.u.s.ty delight the grateful odour.

I know your tricks, Fairfax; you are one of the doubtful doctors; you love to catch credulity upon your hook. I hear fat laughter gurgling in your throat, and out bolts your threadbare simile--'Before the battle's won the Brentford hero sings Te Deum.'--But don't be wasteful of the little wit you have. Do I not tell you it is decreed? When was I posted for a vapouring Hector? What but the recollections of my reiterated ravings, resolves, threats, and imprecations could keep me steady; a.s.sailed as I am by gentleness, benevolence, and saint-like charity?

By the agency of subtlety, hypocrisy, and fraud, I seek to rob her of what the world holds most precious. By candour, philanthropy and a n.o.ble expansion of heart, she seeks to render me all that is superlatively great and good--Why did she not seek all this in a less offensive way? Why did she oblige me to become a disputant with a plebeian?--Disputant!--What do I say?--Worse, worse!--Rival!--Devil!--Myriads of virtues could not atone the crime!--Yet in this deep guilt she perseveres and glories!--Can I forget?--Fear me not, nor rank my defeat among things possible--Be patient and lend an ear.

To one sole object all my efforts point: her mind must be prepared, ay so that when the question shall be put, chaste as that mind is, it scarcely shall receive a shock. Such is the continual tendency of my discourse. Her own open and undisguised manners are my guide. Not a principle she maintains but which, by my cunning questions and affected doubts pushed to an extreme, adds links to the chain in which I mean to lead her captive.

Perhaps, Fairfax, you will tell me this is the old artifice; and that the minds of all women, who can be said to have any mind, must thus be inveigled to think lightly of the thing they are about to lose.

Granted. And yet the difference is infinite. They are brought to think thus lightly of chast.i.ty: but, should you or any one of the gallant phalanx attempt to make Anna St. Ives so think, she would presently cry buzz to the dull blockhead, and give him his eternal dismission.

Virtue with her is a real existence, and as such must be adored. Her pa.s.sions are her slaves; and in this and this alone the lovely tyrant is the advocate of despotism. She soon taught me that common arts would be treated by her, not merely with determined and irrevocable repulse, but with direct contempt. Some very feeble essays presently satisfied me. No encroachments of the touch, no gloting of the eye, no well feigned tremblings and lover's palpitations would for an instant be suffered by her. Take the following as a specimen of my mode of attack.

Among her variety of hypotheses she has one on mutability. 'Little, she says, as we know of matter and spirit, we still know enough to perceive they are both instantaneously, eternally, and infinitely changing. Of what the world has been, through this series of never beginning never ending mutation, she can form nothing more than conjecture: yet she cannot but think that the golden age is a supposition treated at present with ridicule it does not deserve. By the laws of necessity, mind, unless counteracted by accidents beyond its control, is continually progressive in improvement. With some such accidents we are tolerably well acquainted. Such are those which have been destructive of its progress, notwithstanding the high attainments it had made in Greece and Rome. The ruins still existing in Egypt are wonderful proofs of what it once was there; though Egypt is at present almost unequalled in ignorance and depravity. Who then shall affirm changes still more extraordinary have not happened? She has no doubt, some revolution in the planetary system excepted, that men will attain a much higher degree of innocence, length of life, happiness, and wisdom than have ever yet been dreamed of, either by historian, fabulist, or poet: for causes which formerly were equal to the effects then produced are now rendered impotent by the glorious art of printing; which spreads, preserves, and multiplies knowledge, in despite of ignorance, false zeal, and despotism.'

Such was her discourse, and thus vast were her views! Nay, urged on by my questions, by the consequences which resulted from her own doctrines, and by the ardour of emanating benevolence, she astonished me by her sublime visions; for she proceeded to prove, from seemingly fair deduction, 'that men should finally render themselves immortal; should become scarcely liable to moral mistake; should all act from principles previously demonstrated, and therefore never contend; should be one great family without a ruler, because in no need of being ruled; should be incapable of bodily pain or pa.s.sion; and should expend their whole powers in tracing moral and physical cause and effect; which, being infinite in their series, will afford them infinite employment of the most rational and delightful kind!'

Oh! How did the sweet enthusiast glow, ay and make me glow too, while, with a daring but consistent hand she sketched out this bold picture of illusion!

But, while the lovely zealot thus descanted on splendid and half incomprehensible themes, what did I? Why, when I found her at the proper pitch, when I saw benevolence and love of human kind beaming with most ardour in her eye, and pouring raptures from her lip, I then recalled her to her beloved golden age, her times of primitive simplicity; made her inform me what lovers then were, and what marriage; and what the bonds were which hearts so affectionate and minds so honest and pure demanded of each other.

What think you could her answers to all these questions be? What but such as I wished? Could lovers like these suspect each other? Could they basely do the wrong to ask for bond or pledge? Or, if they wanted the virtue to charm, could they still more basely ask rewards they did not merit? Could they, with the wretched selfish jealousy of a modern marriage-maker, seek to cadaverate affection and to pervert each other into a utensil, a commodity, a thing appropriate to self and liable with other lumber to be cast aside? No, Fairfax; she played fairly and deeply into my hand. She created exactly such a pair of lovers as I could have desired: for with respect to the truth and constancy with which she endowed them, if I cannot be the thing, I can wear the garb; ay and it shall become me too, shall sit _degage_ upon me, and be thought my native dress.

Think not that I am a mere listener: far the reverse. I throw in masterly touches, which, while they seem only to heighten her picture, produce the full effect by me intended. Thus, when she described the faith and truth and love of the innocents of her own creation, how did I declaim against the abuse to which such doctrine, though immutably true, was liable!

'Alas! madam,' said I, 'had the unprincipled youths with which these times abound your powers of argument with their own principles, how dreadful would be the effect! How many unsuspecting hearts would they betray!'

I am once more just returned from the palace of Alcina! I broke off at the end of my last paragraph to attend my charmer; and here again am I detesting myself for want of resolution; and detesting myself still more for having made a resolution, for having undertaken that which I am so eternally tempted to renounce. Your sneer and your laugh are both ready--I know you, Fairfax--'The gentleman is sounding a retreat! The enterprise is too difficult!'--No--tell you no, no, no,--But I am almost afraid it is too d.a.m.nable!

I pretended to be exceedingly anxious concerning the delay, and afflicted at not hearing any thing more from Sir Arthur. If I did not do this, it might be a clue to lead her to suspect hypocrisy, considering how very ardent I was at the commencement. And, to say the truth, I am weary enough of waiting; though it is not my wish to be relieved by any expedition of Sir Arthur's, who, as I hinted to you before, does not appear to be in the least hurry, and whose unction for the gardener's son increases.

But had you heard her console me! Had you seen her kindness! The tear glistening in her eye while she entreated me to consider delay as a fortunate event, which tended to permanent and ineffable happiness; had you I say beheld her soul, for it was both visible and audible, Fairfax though you are, the marauder of marriage land and the sworn foe of virginity, even you would have pardoned my tergiversation.

Did you never behold the sun burst forth from behind the riding clouds?

The scene that was gloomy, dark and dismal is suddenly illumined; what was obscure becomes conspicuous; the bleak hills smile, the black meadows a.s.sume a bright verdure; quaking shadows dare no longer stay, cold damps are dispelled, and in an instant all is visible, clear, and radiant! So vanish doubts when she begins to speak! Thus in her presence do the feelings glow; and thus is gloom banished from the soul, till all is genial warmth and harmony!

These being my feelings now, when I am escaped, when I am beyond the circle of her sorceries, think, Fairfax, be just and think how seductive, how dangerous an enemy I have to encounter--Listen and judge.

'Oh! Clifton'--She speaks! Listen I say to her spells!--'Oh! Clifton, daily and hourly do I bless this happy accident, this delay! I think, with the heroic archbishop, I could have held my right hand firmly till the flames had consumed it, could I but have brought to pa.s.s what this blessed event has already almost accomplished! To behold your mind what it is and to recollect what it so lately was is bliss unutterable!

I consider myself now as destined to be yours: but whether I am or am not is perhaps a thing of little moment. Let self be forgotten, and all its petty interests! What am I? What can I be, compared to what you may become? The patriot, the legislator, the statesman, the reconciler of nations, the dispenser of truth, and the instructor of the human race; for to all these you are equal. As for me, however ardent however great my good-will, I cannot have the same opportunities. Beside I must be just to myself and you, and it delights me to declare I believe you have a mind capable of conceptions more vast than mine, of plans more daring and systems more deep, and of soaring beyond me. You have the strong memory, the keen sensibility and the rapid imagination which form the poet. It is my glory to repeat that your various powers, when called forth, have as variously astonished me. To bid you persevere were now to wrong you, for I think I dare affirm you cannot retreat.

You have at present seen too much, thought too much, known too much ever to forget. In private you will be the honour of your family and the delight of your wife; and in public the boast of your country and the admiration of the virtuous and the wise.'

I fell on my knee to the speaking deity! She seemed delivering oracles!

My pa.s.sions rose, my heart was full, her eulogium made it loath and abhor its own deceit; the words--'Madam, I am a villain!'--bolted to my lips, there they quivering lingered in excruciating suspense, and at last slunk back like cowards, half wishing but wholly ashamed to do their office.

By the immortal powers, Fairfax, it was past resisting! Why should I not be all she has described? The hero, the legislator, the great leader of this little world? Ay, why not? She seemed to prophesy. She has raised a flame in me which, if encouraged, might fertilize or desolate kingdoms. Body of Caesar, I know not what to say!

'Tis true she has treated me ill; nay vilely. It cannot be denied. But ill treatment itself, from her, is superior to all the maukish kindness which folly and caprice endeavour to lavish. Fairfax, would you did but behold her! My heart was never so a.s.sailed before!

My resolution is shaken, I own, but it is not obliterated. No; I will think again. My very soul is repugnant to the supposition of leaving its envenomed tumours una.s.suaged, and its angered stabs unavenged. Yet, if healed they could be, she surely possesses that healing art--Once more I will think again.

What you tell me in the Postscript to your last concerning Count Caduke [Consult your dictionary; or to save yourself trouble read Count Crazy, alias Beaunoir.] is wholly unintelligible to me. But as you say the name of the gardener's son was several times mentioned by him, I shall take an immediate opportunity of interrogating the 'squire of shrubs, who I am certain from principle will when asked tell me all he knows.

Apropos of poetry. The panegyric of this sylph of the sun-beams gave me an impulse which I could not resist, and the following was the offspring of my headlong and impetuous muse; for such the hussey is whenever the fit is upon her. I commit it as it may happen to your censure or applause; with this stipulation, if you do not like it either alter it till you do, or write me another which both you and I shall like better. If that be not fair and rational barter, I know nothing either of trade, logic, or common sense.

ANACREONTIC

I

When by the gently gliding stream, On banks where purple violets spring, I see my Delia's beauties beam, I hear my lovely Delia sing, When hearts combine, And arms entwine, When fond caresses, am'rous kisses Yield the height of human blisses, Entranc'd I gaze, and sighing say, Thus let me love my life away.

II

Or when the jocund bowl we pa.s.s, And joke and wit and whim abound, When song and catch and friend and la.s.s In sparkling wine we toast around, When Bull and Pun Rude riot run, And finding still the mirth increasing, Pealing laughter roars sans ceasing, I peal and roar and pant and say, Thus let me laugh my life away.

III

When dreams of fame my fancy fill, Sweet soothing dreams of verse and rhyme, That mark the poet's happy skill, And bid him live to latest time, Each rising thought With music fraught, All full, all flowing, nothing wanting, All harmonious, all enchanting, Oh thus, in rapt delights I say, Thus let me sing my life away!

IV

Oh lovely woman, gen'rous wine, These potent pleasures let me quaff!

Thy raptures, wit, oh make them mine!

Oh let me drink and love and laugh!

In flowing verse Let me rehea.r.s.e How well I've used your bounteous treasure; Then at last when full my measure, Tho' pale my lip, I'll smile and say, I've liv'd the best of lives away.

C. CLIFTON

LETTER Lx.x.xVI

_Frank Henley to Oliver Trenchard_

_London, Grosvenor Street_

Within a week, Oliver, we shall once more meet. What years of separation may afterward follow is more than I can divine. I surely need not tell thee that this thought of separation, were it not opposed by principle, would indeed be painful, and that it is at moments almost too mighty for principle itself. But we are the creatures of an omnipotent necessity; and there can be but little need to remind thee that a compliance with the apparently best should ever be an unrepining and cheerful act of duty.

I have had a conversation with Sir Arthur, very singular in its kind, which has again awakened sensations in their full force that had previously cost me many bitter struggles to allay. I began with informing him of my intention to go down to Wenbourne-Hill; after which I proceeded to tell him it was my design to embark for America.

He seemed surprised, and said he hoped not.