Complete Works of Thomas Love Peacock

by Thomas Love Peacock

  ‘I see,’ said Sir Telegraph to Mrs. Pinmoney, ‘my hopes are at an end. Forester is the happy man, though I am by no means sure that he knows it himself.’

  ‘Impossible,’ said Mrs. Pinmoney; ‘Anthelia may be amused a little while with his rhapsodies, but nothing more, believe me. The man is out of his mind. Do you know, I heard him say the other day, “that not a shilling of his property was his own, that it was a portion of the general possession of human society, of which the distribution had devolved upon him: and that for the mode of that distribution he was most rigidly responsible to the principles of immutable justice.” If such a mode of talking—’

  ‘And acting too,’ said Sir Telegraph; ‘for I assure you he quadrates his practice as nearly as he can to his theory.’

  ‘Monstrous!’ said Mrs. Pinmoney, ‘what would our reverend friend, poor dear Doctor Bosky, say to him? But if such a way of talking and acting be the way to win a young heiress, I shall think the whole world is turned topsy-turvy.’

  ‘Your remark would be just,’ said Sir Telegraph, ‘were that young heiress any other than Anthelia Melincourt.’

  ‘Well,’ said Mrs. Pinmoney, ‘there are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far—’

  ‘That I deny,’ said Sir Telegraph.

  ‘Who will gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar,’ proceeded Mrs. Pinmoney.

  ‘That will not do,’ said Sir Telegraph: ‘I shall resign with the best grace I can muster to a more favoured candidate, but I shall never think of another choice.’

  ‘Twelve months hence,’ said Mrs. Pinmoney, ‘you will tell another tale. In the meantime you will not die of despair as long as there is a good turnpike road and a pipe of Madeira in England.’

  ‘You will find,’ said Mr. Forester to Anthelia, ‘in the little valley we are about to enter, a few specimens of that simple and natural life which approaches as nearly as the present state of things will admit to my ideas of the habits and manners of the primaeval agriculturists, or the fathers of the Roman republic. You will think perhaps of Fabricius under his oak, of Curius in his cottage, of Regulus, when he solicited recall from the command of an army, because the man whom he had intrusted, in his absence, with the cultivation of his field and garden had run away with his spade and rake, by which his wife and children were left without support; and when the senate decreed that the implements should be replaced, and a man provided at the public expense to maintain the consul’s family, by cultivating his fields in his absence. Then poverty was as honourable as it is now disgraceful: then the same public respect was given to him who could most simplify his habits and manners that is now paid to those who can make the most shameless parade of wanton and selfish prodigality. Those days are past for ever: but it is something in the present time to resuscitate their memory, to call up even the shadow of the reflection of republican Rome — Rome the seat of glory and of virtue, if ever they had one on earth.

  ‘You excite my curiosity very highly,’ said Anthelia, ‘for, from the time when I read

  — in those dear books that first Woke in my heart the love of poesy, How with the villagers Erminia dwelt, And Calidore, for a fair shepherdess, Forgot his guest to learn the shepherd’s lore; how much have I regretted never to discover in the actual inhabitants of the country the realisation of the pictures of Spenser and Tasso!’

  ‘The palaces,’ said Mr. Forester, ‘that everywhere rise around them to shame the meanness of their humble dwellings, the great roads that everywhere intersect their valleys, and bring them continually in contact with the overflowing corruption of cities, the devastating monopoly of large farms, that has almost swept the race of cottagers from the face of the earth, sending the parents to the workhouse or the army, and the children to perish like untimely blossoms in the blighting imprisonment of manufactories, have combined to diminish the numbers and deteriorate the character of the inhabitants of the country; but whatever be the increasing ravages of the Triad of Mammon, avarice, luxury, and disease, they will always be the last involved in the vortex of progressive degeneracy, realising the beautiful fiction of ancient poetry, that, when primaeval Justice departed from the earth, her last steps were - among the cultivators of the fields.’

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE COTTAGERS

  THE VALLEY EXPANDED into a spacious amphitheatre, with a beautiful stream winding among pastoral meadows, which, as well as the surrounding hills, were studded with cottages, each with its own trees, its little garden, and its farm. Sir Telegraph was astonished to find so many human dwellings in a space that, on the modern tactics of rural economy, appeared only sufficient for three or four moderate farms; and Mr. Fax looked perfectly aghast to perceive the principle of population in such a fearful state of activity. Mrs and Miss Pinmoney expressed their surprise at not seeing a single lordly mansion asserting its regal pre-eminence over the dwellings of its miserable vassals; while the voices of the children at play served only to condense the vapours that obfuscated the imagination of poor Mr. Hippy. Anthelia, as their path wound among the cottages, was more and more delighted with the neatness and comfort of the dwellings, the exquisite order of the gardens, the ingenuous air of happiness and liberty that characterised the simple inhabitants, and the health and beauty of the little rosy children that were sporting in the fields. Mr. Forester had been recognised from a distance. The cottagers ran out in all directions to welcome him: the valley and the hills seemed starting into life, as men, women, and children poured down, as with one impulse, on the path of his approach, while some hastened to the residence of Miss Evergreen, ambitious of being the first to announce to her the arrival of her nephew. Miss Evergreen came forward to meet the party, surrounded by a rustic crowd of both sexes, and of every age, from the old man leaning on his stick, to the little child that could just run alone, but had already learnt to attach something magical to the sound of the name of Forester.

  The first idea they entertained at the sight of his party was that he was married, and had brought his bride to visit his little colony; and Anthelia was somewhat disconcerted by the benedictions that were poured upon her under this impression of the warm-hearted rustics.

  They entered Miss Evergreen’s cottage, which was small, but in a style of beautiful simplicity. Anthelia was much pleased with her countenance and manners; for Miss Evergreen was an amiable and intelligent woman, and was single, not from having wanted lovers, but from being of that order of minds which can love but once.

  Mr. Fax took occasion, during a temporary absence of Miss Evergreen from the apartment in which they were taking refreshment, to say he was happy to have seen so amiable a specimen of that injured and calumniated class of human beings commonly called old maids, who were often so from possessing in too high a degree the qualities most conducive to domestic happiness; for it might naturally be imagined that the least refined and delicate minds would be the soonest satisfied in the choice of a partner, and the most ready to repair the loss of a first love by the substitution of a second. This might have led to a discussion, but Miss Evergreen’s re-entrance prevented it. They now strolled out among the cottages in detached parties and in different directions. Mr. Fax attached himself to Mr. Hippy and Miss Evergreen. Anthelia and Mr. Forester went their own way. She was above the little affectation of feeling her dignity offended, as our female novel-writers express it, by the notions which the peasants had formed respecting her. ‘You see,’ said Mr. Forester, ‘I have endeavoured as much as possible to recall the images of better times, when the country was well peopled, from the farms being small, and cultivated chiefly by cottagers who lived in what was in Scotland called a cottar town. Now you may go over vast tracts of country without seeing anything like an old English Cottage, to say nothing of the fearful difference which has been caused in the interior of the few that remain by the pressure of exorbitant taxation, of which the real, though not the nominal burden, always falls most heavily ‘ — Ancient Metaphysics, vol v. book iv chap. 8.on the labouring classes, b
acked by that canker at the heart of national prosperity, the imaginary riches of paper-credit, of which the means are delusion, the progress monopoly, and the ultimate effect the extinction of the best portion of national population, a healthy and industrious peasantry. Large farms bring more rent to the landlord, and therefore landlords in general make no scruple to increase their rents by depopulating their estates, though Anthelia Melincourt will not comprehend the mental principle in which such feelings originate.’

  ‘Is it possible,’ said Anthelia, ‘that you, so young as you are, can have created such a scene as this?’

  ‘My father,’ said Mr. Forester, ‘began what I merely perpetuate. He estimated his riches, not by the amount of rent his estate produced, but the number of simple and happy beings it maintained. He divided it into little farms of such a size as were sufficient, even in indifferent seasons, to produce rather more than the necessities of their cultivators required. So that all these cottagers are rich, according to the definition of Socrates; for they have at all times a little more than they actually need, a subsidium for age or sickness, or any accidental necessity.’ They entered several of the cottages, and found in them all the same traces of comfort and content, and the same images of the better days of England: the clean-tiled floor, the polished beechen table, the tea-cups on the chimney, the dresser with its glittering dishes, the old woman with her spinning-wheel by the fire, and the old man with his little grandson in the garden, giving him his first lessons in the use of the spade, the good wife busy in her domestic arrangements, and the pot boiling on the fire for the return of her husband from his labour in the field.

  ‘Is it not astonishing,’ said Mr. Forester, ‘that there should be any who think, as I know many do, the number of cottagers on their land a grievance, and desire to be quit of them, and have no feeling of remorse in allotting to one solitary family as much extent of cultivated land as was ploughed by the whole Roman people in the days of Cincinnatus? The three great points of every political system are the health, the morals, and the number of the people. Without health and morals the people cannot be happy; but without numbers they cannot be a great and powerful nation, nor even exist for any considerable time. And by numbers I do not mean the inhabitants of the cities, the sordid and sickly victims of commerce, and the effeminate and enervated slaves of luxury; but in estimating the power and the riches of a country, I take my only criterion from its agricultural population

  CHAPTER XXVII

  THE ANTI-SACCHARINE FÊTE

  MISS EVERGREEN ACCOMPANIED them in their return, to preside at the anti-saccharine fête. Mr Hippy was turned out to make room for her in the barouche, and took his seat on the roof with Messieurs Forester and Fax. Anthelia no longer deemed it necessary to keep a guard over her heart: the bud of mutual affection between herself and Mr. Forester, both being, as they were, perfectly free and perfectly ingenuous, was rapidly expanding into the full bloom of happiness: they dreamed not that evil was near to check, if not to wither it.

  The whole party was prevailed on by Miss Evergreen to be her guests at Redrose Abbey till after the anti-saccharine fête, which very shortly took place, and was attended by the principal members of the Anti-saccharine Society, and by an illustrious assemblage from near and from far: amongst the rest by our old acquaintance, Mr. Derrydown, Mr. O’Scarum, Major O’Dogskin, Mr. Sarcastic, the Reverend Mr. Portpipe, and Mr. Feathernest the poet, who brought with him his friend Mr. Vamp the reviewer. Lord Anophel Achthar and the Reverend Mr. Grovelgrub deemed it not expedient to join the party, but ensconced themselves in Alga Castle, studying michin malicho, which means mischief.

  The anti-saccharine fête commenced with a splendid dinner, as Mr. Forester thought to make luxury on this occasion subservient to morality, by showing what culinary art could effect without the intervention of West Indian produce; and the preparers of the feast, under the superintendence of Miss Evergreen, had succeeded so well, that the company testified very general satisfaction, except that a worthy Alderman and Baronet from London (who had been studying the picturesque at Low-wood Inn, and had given several manifestations of exquisite taste that had completely won the hearts of Mr. O’Scarum and Major O’Dogskin) having just helped himself to a slice of venison, fell back aghast against the back of his chair, and dropped the knife and fork from his nerveless hands, on finding that currant-jelly was prohibited: but being recovered by an application of the Honourable Mrs. Pinmoney’s vinaigrette, he proceeded to revenge himself on a very fine pheasant, which he washed down with floods of Madeira, being never at a loss for some one to take wine with him, as he had the good fortune to sit opposite to the Reverend Mr. Portpipe, who was toujours prêt on the occasion, and a coup-dêœil between them arranged the whole preliminary of the compotatory ceremonial.

  After dinner Mr. Forester addressed the company. They had seen, he said, that culinary luxury could be carried to a great degree of refinement without the intervention of West Indian produce: and though he himself deprecated luxury altogether, yet he would waive that point for the present, and concede a certain degree of it to those who fancied they could not do without it, if they would only in return make so very slight a concession to philanthropy, to justice, to liberty, to every feeling of human sympathy, as to abstain from an indulgence which was obtained by the most atrocious violation of them all, an indulgence of which the foundations were tyranny, robbery, and murder, and every form of evil, anguish, and oppression, at which humanity shudders; all which were comprehended in the single name of SLAVERY. ‘Sugar,’ said he, ’is economically superfluous, nay, worse than superfluous: in the middling classes of life it is a formidable addition to the expenses of a large family, and for no benefit, for no addition to the stock of domestic comfort, which is often sacrificed in more essential points to this frivolous and wanton indulgence. It is physically pernicious, as its destruction of the teeth, and its effects on the health of children much pampered with sweetmeats, sufficiently demonstrate. It is morally atrocious, from being the primary cause of the most complicated corporeal suffering and the most abject mental degradation that ever outraged the form and polluted the spirit of man. It is politically abominable, for covering with every variety of wretchedness some of the fairest portions of the earth, which, if the inhabitants of free countries could be persuaded to abstain from sugar till it were sent to them by free men, might soon become the abodes of happiness and liberty. Slaves cannot breathe in the air of England:— ‘They touch our country and their fetters fall.’ Who is there among you that is not proud of this distinction? — Yet this is not enough: the produce of the labour of slavery should be banished from our shores. Not anything, not an atom of anything, should enter an Englishman’s dwelling, on which the Genius of Liberty had not set his seal. What would become of slavery if there were no consumers of its produce? Yet I have seen a party of pretended philanthropists sitting round a tea-table, and while they dropped the sugar into their cups repeat some tale of the sufferings of a slave, and execrate the colonial planters, who are but their caterers and stewards — the obsequious ministers of their unfeeling sensuality! O my fair countrywomen! you who have such tender hearts, such affectionate spirits, such amiable and delicate feelings, do you consider the mass of mischief and cruelty to which you contribute, nay, of which you are among the primary causes, when you indulge yourselves in so paltry, so contemptible a gratification as results from the use of sugar? while to abstain from it entirely is a privation so trivial, that it is most wonderful to think that Justice and Charity should have such a boon to beg from Beauty in the name of the blood and the tears of human beings. Be not deterred by the idea that you will have few companions by the better way: so much the rather should it be strictly followed by amiable and benevolent minds. Secure to yourselves at least the delightful consciousness of reflecting that you are in no way whatever accomplices in the cruelty and crime of slavery, and accomplices in it you certainly are, nay, its very original springs, as long as you are receivers
and consumers of its iniquitous acquisitions.’

  ‘I will answer you, Mr. Forester,’ said Mr. Sarcastic, ‘for myself and the rest of the company. You shock our feelings excessively by calling us the primary causes of slavery; and there are very few among us who have not shuddered at the tales of West Indian cruelty. I assure you we are very liberal of theoretical sympathy; but as to practical abstinence from the use of sugar, do you consider what it is you require? Do you consider how very agreeable to us is the sensation of sweetness in our palates? Do you suppose we would give up that sensation because human creatures of the same flesh and blood as ourselves are oppressed and enslaved, and flogged and tortured, to procure it for us? Do you consider that Custom is the great lord and master of our conduct? And do you suppose that any feeling of pity, and sympathy, and charity, and benevolence, and justice, will overcome the power of Custom, more especially where any pleasure of sense is attached to his dominion? In appealing to our pockets, indeed, you touched us to the quick: you aimed your eloquence at our weak side — you hit us in the vulnerable point; but if it should appear that in this particular we really might save our money, yet being expended in a matter of personal and sensual gratification, it is not to be supposed so completely lost and wasted as it would be if it were given either to a friend or a stranger in distress. I will admit, however, that you have touched our feelings a little, but this disagreeable impression will soon wear off: with some of us it will last as long as pity for a starving beggar, and with others as long as grief for the death of a friend; and I find, on a very accurate average calculation, that the duration of the former may be considered to be at least three minutes, and that of the latter at most ten days.