by Mrs. West
CHAP. IX.
These things, indeed, you have articulated, Proclaim'd at market-tables, read at churches, To face the garment of rebellion With some fine colour that may please the eye Of fickle changelings and poor discontents, Which gape and rub the elbows at the news Of hurly burly innovation; And never yet did Insurrection want Such water-colours to impaint his cause.
Shakspeare.
The summer of 1643 opened with favourable omens to the royal cause.Evellin sent intelligence to Ribblesdale of the successes of the Marquisof Newcastle against Fairfax, the safe arrival of the Queen withmilitary stores, and his own expectation of being joined to her escort,which would enable him to have an interview with the King at Oxford.This intelligence, added to that of the advantages gained over SirWilliam Waller in the west, revived the drooping hopes of the loyalists,and terrified the enthusiastic Eustace with apprehensions lest thecontest should be decided before he could measure swords with oneround-head.
Dr. Beaumont took a more comprehensive view; he saw how little had beendone, and how much loyal blood had been shed. The King's cause wassupported by the death or ruin of his best friends, but his victories,instead of intimidating, hardened his opponents. They were boundtogether by a dread of danger, and a belief that they had sinned beyondall hopes of pardon, and therefore must depend for safety entirely onthe success of the rebellion they had fomented.
To insure that success, the Parliament had long since employed the mostpotent stimulant of human action, religion; and, by embodying theirfavourite teachers under the title of the Assembly of Divines, contrivedto give that species of state-establishment to their own theologicalscheme which they had objected to, as one of the crying sins ofepiscopacy. This memorable body of auxiliaries was created at the timeof their beginning to levy war upon the King, by seizing his militaryresources, and refusing him admission into his own garrison. A factwhich may serve to convince the reflecting mind of the close union whichsubsists between monarchical and episcopal principles is, that theirnext step to that of employing the forces and revenues of the crownagainst the person of the Sovereign, was a declaration "that theyintended a necessary and due reformation of the Liturgy and governmentof the church, and that they would consult godly and learned divines,and use their utmost endeavours to establish learned and preachingministers, with a good and sufficient maintenance throughout the wholekingdom, where many dark corners were miserably destitute of the meansof salvation, and many poor ministers wanted necessary provision."
Though wise men saw the design of this carefully-worded declaration, yetindolent, or quiet men, who were willing to hope, caught at itsdesigning moderation, believed that Parliament only meant to reformabuses, and that its designs were not so very bad. This verydeclaration, which a year before would have terrified the people, inwhom there was then a general submission to the church-government, and asingular reverence of the Liturgy, now when there was a generalexpectation of a total subversion of the one, and abolition of theother, they thought only removing what was offensive, unnecessary, orburthensome, an easy composition. Thus the well-meaning were, bydegrees, prevailed on, towards ends they extremely abhorred, and what,at first, seemed prophane and impious to them, in a little time appearedonly inconvenient.
But infinite is the danger of tampering with national feeling in itsmost important point. The mildly-worded decree above cited, cherishedthose principles of mutability, which overthrew the church of England,while new forms of doctrine sprang from every portion of her ruins, allcontending for mastery, and each insisting on the individual right ofchoosing, and the uncontrolable liberty of exercising what they pleasedto term religion. The first of these tenets is as inadmissible inargument, as it is desperate in practice, for if every man has a rightto choose, it must follow that he has an equal right to abstain fromchoosing, and thus universal atheism is sanctioned by the over-strainedindulgence of civil liberty, confounding what our perverse natures willdo with what they properly may. And if we found this opinion on theground of human free-will, it may be asserted that a man has a right tochoose whether he will be veracious, temperate, chaste, andconscientious; whether he will be a good father, husband, citizen, orthe reverse; and thus every moral offence of which human laws do nottake cognizance, may be justified by the same plea, that in this land ofliberty people have a right to act as they think proper. By these meansthat finer system of morals, which extends virtue and goodness to pointswhich the mere letter of the law cannot reach, is at once annihilated;and the peculiar excellence, of the Gospel, as a religion of motives, issuperseded by the licence allowed to rebellious wills, and the darknessof perverse understandings.
The proposition of the Parliament to consult "godly and learned divines"was exemplified, by their ordering the individuals of which the House ofCommons was now composed, to name such men as they thought fit for theirpurpose. Every known friend to the King had been already banished,either by the clamour of the London mobs, or their own votes. "Of onehundred and twenty, who composed the assembly of Divines, though by therecommendation of some members of the Commons, whom they were notwilling to displease, and by the authority of the Lords, some veryreverend and worthy names were inserted, there were not above twenty,who were not declared and avowed enemies of the church, some of themvery infamous in their lives and conversations, most of them of verymean parts in learning, if not of scandalous ignorance, and of no otherreputation than malice to the church of England."
Of this ignorance and incapacity for every thing but the work ofdestruction, their own party made the most angry complaints. Yet werethose men the fittest to act as Spiritual prompters to an aspiringfaction, bent on overturning existing institutions, and establishingtheir own power. The general ground of quarrel of all the sects with theestablishment, was its retaining ceremonies, prayers, and a mode ofdiscipline, which, though bearing close affinity to the apostolical age,were rejected by violent reformers, because our church received themthrough that of Rome. The answer of Bishop Ridley to the Papists, "Thathe would be willing to admit any trifling ceremony or thing indifferentfor the sake of peace," suited not the taste of those who sawAnti-christ in a square cap or a surplice, and in a written creed ordoxology (though agreeing in substance with their own opinions) aninfringement of the liberty of a true Protestant. Such as these carednot what confusion or infidelity prevailed, nor how Popery itselftriumphed, while they were busy in overthrowing the strongest bulwarkthat human wisdom had erected against it. The people were inflamedagainst the court and the church by the charge of jesuitical designs,the palaces of the deposed bishops were converted into prisons, crowdedwith the champions of the protestant cause; the truly "pious, godly, andlearned ministry" were driven from the flocks to which they had beenappointed by their spiritual superiors, and supplanted by thesechampions of the rights of private judgment and unbounded liberty, whomade their respective congregations not only judges of theologicalpoints, but teachers of every opinion, except those which derivedsupport from sound learning, constitutional authority, beneficialexperience, general acceptation among Christians, or a clear consistentview of the word of God. Men sought celebrity by inventing modes offaith; and sacred truths were not established by an appeal to antiquity,but by the singular ordeal of novelty, as if, after a lapse of seventeenages, it was reserved for ignorance and fanaticism to make freshdiscoveries in the sacred writings.
The ordinance of sequestration, which annihilated allchurch-dignitaries, and exposed every parochial minister to the maliceof any informer who should report him for his loyalty, passed in theyear 1643, and was justified by complaints of the supposed scandalouslives of the episcopal clergy. Doubtless, in a numerous body, some mightbe found guilty of gross vices, secular in their pursuits, negligent oftheir high duties, and looking more to the "scramble at the shearers'feast," than to feeding and guiding the flock through the wilderness. Notrue lover of the church will defend clerical debauchees or canonicalworld
lings, especially when she appears beleaguered round with enemies,and when her surest earthly supports are the zeal, the learning, and thepious simplicity of her officials. Persuaded that our nationalestablishment grows from that root which can never decay, we may always,when a very general corruption of the clergy is apparent, expect afearful tempest to arise, which will clear the tree of its unsoundbranches, and enable it to put forth vigorous and healthy shoots. Butwhile that rottenness is not total but partial, while some green boughsare still seen to extend a lovely and refreshing shade, what impioushand shall dare to assail the venerable queen of the forest, whosemagnitude defends the saplings, which, ambitiously springing under itsprotection, require the room it occupies? At the time of the greatrebellion, the Church of England boasted an unusual number of, notmerely learned, but apostolical men, especially among the bishops andthe royal chaplains, whose pious labours have excited the gratitude andadmiration of posterity, as much as their lives and sufferings did thewonder and commiseration of their own times. Beside those who have beenthus immortalized, there were vast numbers who "took their silent wayalong the humble vale of life," unknown to fame either for their virtuesor their hardships, yet still living in the memory of their descendants.These submitted in silence to poverty, reproach, and injustice; and,like Bishop Sanderson, "blessed God that he had not withdrawn food orraiment from them and their poor families, nor suffered them, in time oftrial, to violate their conscience." The long-continued persecution ofthe ruling powers proves that such men formed the majority of theepiscopal clergy. Their place was occupied by those who were willing toreceive wages from the hand of usurpation, and to see the lawful ownerin extremest need, while they enjoyed ill-acquired affluence. These mensoon won over the populace by the most false and dangerous views ofreligion, stating, "that men might be religious first, and then just andmerciful; that they might sell their conscience, and yet have somethingworth keeping; and that they might be sure they were elected, thoughtheir lives were visibly scandalous; that to be cunning was to be wise;that to be rich was to be happy; and that to speak evil of governmentswas no sin[1]." Plain, instructive, practical discourses, sound andtemperate explanations of the great mysteries of Christianity, connectedviews of the whole body of gospel doctrines and precepts, were castaside as legal formalities. Extemporary harangues, immethodical andtautological at best, sometimes profane, often absurd and perplexing,never instructive, became universal. One of the worst features of thesesermons was their tendency to torture scripture to the purposes offaction, and represent the Almighty as personally concerned in thesuccess of rebels. "The Lord was invited to take a chair and sit amongthe House of Peers," whenever that House opposed the furious proceedingsof the Commons; and if the King gained a victory, the preacherexpostulated in these irreverent terms: "Lord, thou hast said he isworse than an infidel that provides not for his own family. Give us notreason to say this of thee, for we are thine own family, and have latelybeen scurvily provided for."
In a work intended to familiarize the conduct and principles ofloyalists to the general reader, this vindication of the episcopalclergy, and appeal to their literary remains, and to the doctrinesdelivered by their opponents on public occasions, cannot be deemedirrelative. I now proceed with my narrative.
Dr. Beaumont was not long permitted to repose at Ribblesdale after hisenemies were armed with power for his expulsion. A visit from Morgan wasthe signal of bad tidings. He required a private interview. The Doctorsilently besought Heaven to give him fortitude, and admitted him.
He began with enumerating his own kind offices, and anxiety to preservehim in his cure, believing him to be very well-meaning, though mistakenin his politics. He reminded him that he had ever recommended temperatecounsels, and lamented that, in the present disturbed state of things,he or his family should, by any indiscreet act, give occasion to hisenemies to precipitate his ruin. He then pulled out a long string ofcharges against the Doctor, the first of which was his affording shelterto, and corresponding with, one Allan Evellin, calling himself ColonelEvellin, by virtue of a pretended commission from the King, a mostdangerous delinquent and malignant, now in arms against Parliament, andseen, in the late attack on Sir Thomas Fairfax's army, to make adesperate charge, and murder many valiant troopers who were assertingthe good old cause. Dr. Beaumont acknowledged that he had afforded hisbrother-in-law the rights of hospitality; and he put Morgan upon proofthat the King's commission was not a sufficient justification of thealleged murders, which, he presumed, were not committed basely, or incold blood, but in the heat and contention of battle, and mighttherefore be justified by the rule of self-defence, as well as by theKing's authority.
Morgan said the ordinance of Parliament made it treason to fight for theKing; but this assertion sounded so oddly, that he hurried to the nextcount, which was, his dissuading Ralph Jobson from taking the Covenant.
The Doctor acknowledged this fact, alledging also, that as he consideredthe Covenant to be sinful, he was bound in duty, as the spiritual guideof Jobson, to advise him not to bind his soul by any ill-understood,ensnaring obligation, being already bound, by his baptismal andeucharistical oaths, to all that was required of Christians in an humblestation.
To Dr. Beaumont's vindication of himself from these and similar crimes,Morgan could only answer that the ordinances of Parliament made themoffences. In these unhappy times those decrees were not supplemental to,but abrogatory of, law and gospel. But there was another charge foundedon the violation of the grand outlines of morality, which could bebrought home to one of the Doctor's household. Morgan drew uptriumphantly, as he read the accusation, namely, "That Eustace Evellin,son of the above malignant cavalier, did, on the 17th day of March lastpast, assault and wound Hold-thy-Faith Priggins, and by force take fromhis possession a box containing his property, and that he did carry offthe same, leaving the said Priggins bleeding on the high road." TheDoctor was startled; he knew this was the time of his nephew'smountain-expedition, but was entirely ignorant of its being signalizedby any act of Quixotic chivalry. He disclaimed all knowledge of thebusiness, and begged to know who Hold-thy-Faith Priggins was. "I know,"said he, "a John Priggins, a fellow of most infamous and depravedconduct, but this other is quite a new name in this neighbourhood."
Morgan denied all personal acquaintance with the man, previous to theday when he came to lodge his complaint against Eustace, and at the sametime announced his design of exercising the gift of preaching, to whichhe just discovered he had a call. He however admitted that he believedthis same Priggins was the Doctor's old acquaintance, he havingacknowledged that previous to his conversion he had been guilty of everysin except murder.
Dr. Beaumont imagined such a confession would justify a magistrate inrefusing to permit even the meanest part of the sacerdotal functions tobe assumed by one who mistook glorying in his iniquities forregeneration; but Morgan replied, that it would be contrary to thoseprinciples of civil liberty which his conscience and office required himto support, to make any investigation into the past, or to require anypledge for the future conduct of the convert.
Dr. Beaumont could not help observing that, in kindness to his friendDavies, Morgan should have been careful of opening the mouth of one whomight perhaps introduce schism into the new-founded congregation.
Morgan smiled. "I perceive, my good Doctor," said he, "you are quite inthe dark in these matters; you must know, the Parliament's ordinance hasbeen acted upon in many parishes, and the sequestrators have taken suchnote of your life and conversation as to resolve to eject you from yourliving, and institute Master Davies in your place; though my influencehas hitherto suspended the actual execution of this design. Now, as Ihate all monopolies, and think every person's talents should have fairplay, during your ministry I countenanced Davies against you, and ifDavies is put in your place I shall sit under Priggins rather thanDavies, for that is the best way of keeping him sharp to his duty, andone gets at truth best by hearing from all preachers what they have tosay for themselves."
Dr. Beaumont answered, that though assured the exercise of hissacerdotal functions depended on his pleasure, he could not, while hewas permitted to perform it, so far desert his duty as to allow one ofhis parishioners to utter wrong opinions without respectfully shewingtheir fallacy. He was proceeding to the undoubtedly-fruitless labour oftrying to correct determined error, when Morgan stopped his argument byshewing him the order he had received to eject him from his rectory.
Dr. Beaumont answered, that being humbly persuaded his ministry had beenbeneficial, he wished to be allowed to continue in the quiet exercise ofhis spiritual functions. His office was not bestowed upon him either byParliament or by the assembly of Divines, neither could the votes of theone, nor the opinion of the other, lawfully degrade him from it.
Morgan replied, that whatever fancies he might entertain respecting thedurability of his right to the rectory, and the unalienable nature ofordination, he must know, from numerous instances, that they had a waynow of cutting this sort of disputes very short, by expelling those whowould not walk out of doors quietly. Some indeed suffered their prudenceto get the better of their obstinacy, and were comfortably re-settled intheir benefices. One method of reconciliation which he would advise Dr.Beaumont to attend to, was, to volunteer his subscription to theengagement which had just been taken by Parliament and the City ofLondon, on the discovery of a most horrid plot formed by papists andmalignants, to put the King in possession of the Tower; to admit thepopish army into the city; to seize the godly Parliament, and put an endto all those hopes of reformation which the nation now entertained. Heshewed the Doctor a copy of the oath, and remarked, that as nothing wassaid in it about ecclesiastical changes, he could not object to swearingto preserve the true Protestant religion against the influence of apopish party, headed by the Queen, whom the House in its wisdom hadimpeached of high-treason.
Dr. Beaumont said, the crime laid to Her Majesty's charge, which hadinduced the Parliament to take that extraordinary step, was the bringingarms and ammunition into the kingdom to assist her Sovereign andhusband, and not her being a Catholic, nor any plot or contrivance tomurder and imprison true Protestants. In the vow tendered to him, he sawhimself required to attest various matters which he disbelieved. He knewof no Popish army raised and countenanced by the King; he knew of notreacherous and horrid design to surprise the Parliament and the city ofLondon. He could not give God thanks for the discovery of what he reallybelieved was one of those fabrications intended to strengthen the rulingparty, which always follow a detected conspiracy. He denied that thearmies raised by the two Houses were for their just defence, or for theliberty of the subject; and he would never promise to oppose those whoassisted the King, nor bind himself in a league with his enemies.
"My sacred function," continued the Doctor, "is that of a minister ofpeace. I will never have recourse to arms except to guard my own familyfrom assassins; nor will I ever engage not to assist my King with mypurse or my counsels, or shut my gates on any loyal refugee who seeksthe shelter of my roof. I have few personal reasons for being attachedto Ribblesdale, but I hold myself bound to it by a spiritual contract,and will abide here till I am forced from it, diligently,conscientiously, and meekly doing my duty among ye, without partialityor respect of persons. My counsel, my assistance, my purse, my prayers,are at the service of all my parishioners; if, therefore, the residenceof a quiet man, who, though he will not sacrifice his own conscience,imposes no restraints on others, be not inconsistent with the duty yousay you owe to these new authorities, suffer me to die in my parish. Iam ready to promise that I will never engage in plots or conspiraciesfor your destruction; and since the scale of war is still suspended, andwe know not who will be the ascending party, I will also promise, thatin case the royal cause ultimately triumphs, I will use my influencewith the King in favour of my neighbours."
"You speak like a man of sense and moderation," answered Morgan. "Whyshould hatred and animosity prevail between us? Why should we notimitate the liberality of Sir William Waverly? General Waverly has justbeen to see him. The worthy Baronet at first rated him a little, tellinghim he had made a most unhappy choice; but they were friends in a fewminutes, and he asked Master Davies and me to dine with them; wished theKing better advisers; drank prosperity to the Parliament; and paid hisweekly assessment cheerfully. I think it is the best plan for allparties to hold neighbourly intercourse with each other, and even toform alliances which may some time turn to account; and this leads me tomy other proposition. I believe I may persuade the honourablesequestrators that you are not a dangerous delinquent, nor whollyunprofitable in the ministry; but this must be on condition that yousuffer justice to take its course with your nephew, and ally yourself tosome person of staunch principles by marriage."
Dr. Beaumont answered, he was very willing that the charge againstEustace should be investigated, but as to intermarriage with any family,he had long since devoted the remainder of his life to widowhood.
"But you have ladies in your house," said Morgan, drawing his chaircloser to the Doctor, and pursing his features into an enamoured grin.The idea of a quondam scrivener making love to Mrs. Mellicent (for onthis occasion he thought only of her), and the contrast between herdignity and Morgan's square figure and vulgar coarseness, provoked asmile, notwithstanding the seriousness of his own situation: Morganthought this a good omen, and went on.
"You see me here, Master Doctor, a hale man, under fifty, pretty warmand comfortable in circumstances; I once said I never would encumbermyself with a wife and family, but things are now going on so well, thatall will be settled before my children are grown up; and I do not seewhy I should not try to make my old age comfortable, now I have done somuch for the public.--That's a very pretty, modest, well-behaveddaughter of yours, and I think would make me a good wife; a little tooyoung, perhaps, but she will mend of that fault every day."
Dr. Beaumont was struck dumb with surprise. Morgan continued--"And ifthe young maid is willing, I shall not mind shewing favour to thathot-headed cousin of hers, for her sake. He wants to be a soldier Ifind; I could get him a commission under Lord Essex, who is a finespirited commander, and will give him fighting enough. You know it willbe doing just as the Waverly family do. Come, I see youhesitate--suppose we call in the young people, and hear what they say?"
"Eustace shall immediately answer to the charge laid against him," saidthe Doctor, rising to summon him. "And let Mrs. Constantia come too; Iwish that business decided first," continued Morgan.
"That business is already determined," answered the Doctor. "Eustace, Ihave called you to answer to a charge laid against you, of assaulting apeaceable passenger whom you met in your return from the mountains, andtaking from him a box which was his property. Did you or did you notcommit this outrage?"
"Aye!--answer without fear or evasion, young man," said Morgan.
"I know neither fear nor evasion," replied Eustace, darting on theJustice a look which could not have been more contemptuous had he heardof his offer to Constantia;--"I certainly did beat a saucy knave whoinsulted me."
"And stole his goods!" said Morgan.
"I took from him something;--let him name what."
"A box or case, his property, are the words of his affidavit."
"Again," said Eustace, "I require him to state what was in that box?"
Morgan coloured--"The forms of law," said he, "must be adhered to. Heonly swears to a box or case, as his property. Did you or did you nottake it from him?"
"I did."
Dr. Beaumont turned on his nephew a look of angry expostulation, whichstung him to the soul. He threw himself on the ground, and clasped hisknees in anguish. "My dearest uncle," said he, "I can bear any thing butyour displeasure. I took a box containing stolen goods from a thief, whowas carrying it to an accomplice."
Morgan was thunder-struck; for, in describing the assault, Priggins hadomitted mentioning that he had been cuffed into a full discovery of histheft, and had owned that Morgan had agreed to accept a part of Dr.B
eaumont's spoil as a reward for giving indemnity to the rioters. Hetried to recollect himself, and told Eustace, better language to amagistrate would become his situation.
"Who touches the hem of your magisterial robe?" said the fiery boy."Have I said that the villain who stole my cousin's lute, was carryingit to you when I took it from him, and restored it to the right owner.My dear and worthy protector, the only fault I have committed, was insaying I found it, when you asked me how it was recovered. Let him whoaccuses me of the theft be brought face to face, and I will soon makehim own who are the knaves in this business."
Morgan's confusion at being drawn into an implied self-accusationprevented him from pressing the business further. He endeavoured to becivil, said that Priggins must have mistaken the person of Eustace, orhave given him a false account. He believed him to be a worthless liar,and holding out his hand to Eustace, hoped it would cause no ill bloodbetween them.
"No," said the latter, holding up his arm in a posture of defiance;"there may be a concert between thieves and the receivers of stolengoods; but we know too much of each other to shake hands, and soremember Master Morgan I hate dissimulation, and now think of you justas I used to do."
When they were alone the Doctor reproved Eustace for his peremptorybehaviour, and required an impartial statement of the whole affair. Theinterview ended with full pardon for his past precipitation, and anearnest admonition, as he tendered the preservation of them all, to beguarded in future. Eustace could not but perceive that he had increasedhis uncle's difficulties, and promised great prudence, with a fullintention of keeping his word.
Dr. Beaumont then proceeded to consult the faithful partner of all hisformer trials on his present situation. It was to Mrs. Mellicent onlythat he disclosed all that had passed in his interview with Morgan, who,making the same misapplication of Morgan's amorous tender, drew up herstiff figure into full stateliness. "Leave the knave to me, brother,"said she; "I desire no better jest than to hear him make me a proposal;I that have had a serjeant at law in his coif, and the sheriff of thecounty in his coach and six, come to make love to me, to be at lastthought of by the son of a shoe-maker!"
Her brother here interposing, relieved her mind from the terrifying ideaof having the laurels of her early days blasted by this degradingconquest, but he only changed indignation into distress. "What! ourlovely, dutiful, modest, ingenuous Constantia, to marry that lump ofsedition; that bag of cozening vulgarity; that rolling tumbril, ladenwith all the off-scourings of his own detestable party!--Brother, takemy advice, and send the dear creature instantly to the King's quarters;there is no safety for her within Morgan's reach.--These republicansstop at nothing; I question whether my years and prudence will protectme, but I will run all risks, and remain with you at Ribblesdale. Butlet the young people be immediately removed, under the care ofWilliams.--Morgan will never pardon the affront he received fromEustace. The hint he gave about Essex, makes me apprehend that a projectwill be laid to entrap the boy. I know he would sooner die than acceptany terms from traitors; let me therefore intreat you to send them allto York, and place them under the Earl of Bellingham's protection."
Dr. Beaumont approved the plan, but cautioned her how she spoke of theEarl of Bellingham. Mrs. Mellicent assured him she was very wary. "But,"said she, "as we are forced to hear and say so much that is painful, letus in our privacies indulge ourselves with anticipating brighter scenes.I am fully persuaded that the children will outlive these sorrows. I hada most consoling dream last night.--I saw Eustace in Castle-Bellingham,just as I have heard Williams describe it in the old Earl's days,attended by a train of gallant gentlemen, knights, esquires, chaplains,pages, and all the proper retinue of nobility. I saw Constance too, ourown sweet Constance, dressed in black-velvet covered with jewels; andshe was smiling upon Eustace, and giving orders just as a countess oughtto do in the open gallery, as the servants were going about from thehall to the buttery; I see it all now before my eyes, and I tell you,brother, whatever you learned men may say about it, dreams often aretrue prognostics, and warnings too. In one point, I believe we are bothagreed, Constance shall marry none but Eustace."
"It is more necessary," replied Dr. Beaumont, "to preserve the childrenfrom present violence, than to lay plans for their futureaggrandisement. Prepare then with all possible speed for their removal,and I will advise them of its absolute necessity."
This precaution was indeed truly prudent. The rancorous heart of Morgancould not forgive the insinuated accusation of Eustace, nor the coldhauteur with which the Doctor hurried over his offer of an alliance,which, in the proposer's estimation, promised safety, wealth, andhonour. He immediately sent information to an officer, who wasrecruiting for the Parliament, of a young desperate malignant, whom hewished to have pressed into the service, as a mild punishment forcontumacy and outrage, and he did not doubt that the appearance of thesequestrators, armed with full powers for immediate dispossession, wouldterrify Constantia into acquiescence with his wishes, on condition thathe would protect her father.
The young party left Ribblesdale at midnight, under the escort ofWilliams. The separation was marked with many tears and many anxiouswishes, that they might soon be followed by their faithful guardians.The young ladies felt all the alarm and anxiety of leaving their quiethomes, which is incident to their sex and years; they were terrified atthe thought of sleeping at an inn, and seeing none but strangers; "ifthey should discover who we are," said Constantia, "and deliver us intothe power of Morgan!"--Eustace begged her not to be frightened, for hewould die sooner than see her exposed to any insult. "You are always soready to die!" observed Isabel; "what good would it do us to have youkilled? But indeed I have no fear of being discovered, for we are somuffled up in our camlet riding-hoods, that we shall pass forcountry-girls going to market. Courage! dear Constance. Come, whip yourhorse on with spirit, and talk to me about eggs and poultry."
"Your brown face and red arms will pass well enough," said Eustace; "butthey must be blind idiots, who mistake our pretty Constance for a marketgirl." "I will bind up my face as if I had the tooth-ache," said she;"and talk broad Lancashire, till I come to the Marquis's quarters."Williams observed that their danger would then begin.
The girls started, saying, they hoped they should then be in safety."You know not, my dear mistresses," said Williams, "the habits of camps,nor the licence of gay, dissipated cavaliers, conscious of conferringobligations on their King, and claiming from their occasional hardshipsa right to indulgence. It is a bad situation for handsome young women,but I have it in charge, in case I cannot deliver you into the care ofmy old master, to take you on to Oxford, and place you with an oldcollege-friend of Dr. Beaumont's."
Eustace, whose heart had exulted at the idea of being fixed in the sceneof action, and of being permitted to endeavour to remove the prohibitionof his taking arms, strenuously opposed the plan of an Oxford residence,as still more improper for young ladies, protesting that the flatteriesof a court and a university were more dangerous than the free licence ofmilitary manners. He then began to caution Constantia, assuring her shemust not believe all that would be told her about the power of her eyesto make men miserable, and about Venus and Hebe, and a great many morenonsensical comparisons. "If I do," returned she, "it will do me noharm. A woman is not more beloved for being handsome. There is our dearaunt Mellicent; her face, you know, is the colour of a cowslip, and allseamed and puckered, yet we could not love her better than we do, if shewere ever so beautiful."
Eustace allowed that she was a very good woman, though he could wellspare her putting him to rights, as she called it, quite so often. Hefancied, too, he knew some people more agreeable.--Isabel thought whenwomen were young, they always liked to be called handsome, andrecollected she often heard her aunt say, that before she had thesmall-pox, she was thought very comely, and had many lovers. Eustaceburst into a loud laugh, and said so many provoking things on themisfortune of old maids being reduced to record their own victories,that his companions protested they
would be very angry, and not speak tohim till he sung them a song of his own composition, by way of penance.He submitted cheerfully to the punishment, and caroled the followingcanzonet, as they proceeded in safety to the borders of Yorkshire:--
Once Beauty bade the God of Wit Appease her anger with his songs; Love thought the sacrifice unfit, And cried, "The task to me belongs."
Light flow'd the strain of wayward smiles. Of blushes and of tears he sung, Of mournful swains arrang'd in files, And hearts on eye-shot arrows hung.
But Beauty frown'd; "This lay from thee! Proud rebel, dost thou break thy chain? Wit may devise a sportive glee, But Love should languish and complain."
To whom the God: "When you disguise Your charms with spleen's fantastic shade, Insulted Love to Wit applies, And goes like you in masquerade."
[1] Life of Bishop Sanderson.
