We regret that we cannot gratify some of our courteous readers with a detailed account of the marriage of Caroline and Count Altenberg, with a description of the wedding-dresses, or a list of the company, who, after the ceremony, partook of an elegant collation at her Ladyship's house in Cavendish Square. We lament that we cannot even furnish a paragraph in honor of Count Altenberg's equipage. After all their other friends had made their congratulations, had taken leave of Caroline, and had departed, Mrs. Hungerford and Mrs. Mortimer still lingered.
"I know, my love," said Mrs. Hungerford, "I ought to resign you, in these last moments, to your parents, your brothers, your own Rosamond.——Yet I have some excuse for my selfishness——they will see you again, it is to be hoped, often.——But I!——That is not in the course of nature ... the blessing I scarcely could have expected to live to enjoy has been granted to me.——And now that I have seen you united to one worthy of you, one who knows your value, I am content——I am grateful.—— Farewell again and again, my beloved Caroline, may every. ..."
Tears spoke the rest——turning from Caroline, she leaned on Count Altenberg's arm; as he conducted her to her carriage, she could only say,
"You are a happy man, Count Altenberg. Forgive me, if I am not able to congratulate you as I ought ... Daughter Mortimer! you know my heart ... Speak for me ... if you can."
Count Altenberg was more touched by this strong affection for Caroline, than he could have been by any congratulatory compliments to himself.——After the departure of Mrs. Hungerford and Mrs. Mortimer came the separation so much dreaded by all the family, for which all stood prepared. Despising and detesting the display of sensibility, they had fortified themselves for this moment with all their resolution, and each struggled to repress their own feelings.
Count Altenberg had delayed till the last moment. It was now necessary, that they should set out.——Caroline, flushed crimson to the very temples one instant, and pale the next, commanded with the utmost effort her emotion. Rosamond, unable to repress hers, clung to her sister, weeping——Caroline's lips quivered with a vain attempt to speak——she could only embrace Rosamond repeatedly, and then her mother——in silence.——She stood motionless, for she had not power to withdraw her cold hand from her mother.——Her father pressed her to his bosom——blessed her——and then drawing her arm within his, led her to her husband.
As they passed through the hall, the faithful housekeeper, and the old steward, who had come from the country to the marriage, pressed forward, in hopes of a last look. Caroline stopped, and took leave of each.——She was able, though with difficulty, to speak, and she thanked them for all the services and kindness she had received from them from childhood to this hour.——Then her father led her on to the carriage.
Oh! if it was not for such a husband as Count Altenberg, I never, never could bear this separation, thought Caroline, as she took leave of her father.
Her foot was now on the step of the carriage, into which Count Altenberg was handing her; when, turning to look once more at her father, two men rudely crossed between them, and an instant afterwards, she saw one of these lay his hand on her father's shoulder, and heard him say the words,
Caroline sprang from the step of the carriage, Count Altenberg opened a way for her between the sheriff's officers into the house.
"Do not be alarmed, my dear Caroline.——There is no cause," said her father, in a calm voice.——"This is a great mistake, or great injustice.——In either case, I shall obtain redress."
The writ was shown.——It was taken out at the suit of Sir Robert Percy, and for an enormous sum——the amount of the rents received by Mr. Percy during the whole time he had been in possession of the estate. When that estate was given up to Sir Robert Percy, he had agreed to abandon all claim to these arrears, in consideration of improvements, buildings, furniture, and plate, which had been delivered to him without reserve, to an amount then thought equivalent to his demands. But he had lately written, to state, that what he had unwarily been induced to accept as full payment was by no means equal to his right, that the agreement was made under mistaken information, that it was not legally executed, and that he had directed his solicitor, Mr. Sharpe, to proceed at law for the recovery of the whole of his just debt.
Mr. Percy had not conceived it possible, that even Mr. Sharpe would, without allowing time scarcely for an answer to this demand, take out a writ against him, and have it executed at such a cruel moment.
Count Altenberg, when he understood the nature of this arrest, and as soon as he heard Alfred name the necessity of obtaining security for his father, to prevent this imprisonment, instantly came forward,
"As your son, Mr. Percy," said he, "I have a right to speak——a right to hope that my assistance will be accepted. ——I have an English property——will that be sufficient security?"
Mr. Percy thanked the Count——and Caroline, by her look, thanked him most tenderly; but her father firmly said, that he would not involve any of his friends in his difficulties.——The nearer and dearer they were, the more pain it would give him——he had several excellent friends, who would, he was sure, be willing to risk much for him, but he would not suffer them to hazard so enormous a sum. It was, he said, an evil, but no insupportable evil, to pass some months in prison——he trusted the event would prove, that he had been unjustly detained.
Then turning to Caroline, he said, "You know the worst now, my dear daughter; from your strength of mind I expect, in all circumstances, resolution.——The honor of Count Altenberg obliges him to be with his Prince at an appointed time.——Detain him not—— farewell, my dear daughter."——
Caroline, with the anguish of divided duty and affection, looked from her father to her husband.
"Heaven forbid! that I should separate you at this moment from your father, Caroline," said the Count.——"Stay with him——Heaven forbid! that I should exert the right which the name of husband gives me, to sever the ties of nature!——Stay with your father, dearest Caroline!——My honor safe, my promise fulfilled, I will instantly return, and may we meet in happiness!"
The Count, with a sort of desperate haste, as if he feared his resolution should fail, embraced his wife.——Thus parted the lovers, who, but a few short hours before thought themselves secure of passing their lives together.——So uncertain is all human felicity!
Caroline, as thought she had not been a bride, prepared to accompany her father to prison.
The sheriff's officer, who, in spite of the obduracy of his trade, was touched—— observed, that ... Gentlemen in similar circumstances are usually allowed four and twenty hours at least, to look for bail——that he was willing to permit every indulgence in his power——and though his prisoner must be kept in safe custody, yet that there were houses where he could be accommodated for a day or two, till his friends could see what might be done to settle the matter.——There was no necessity for his going directly to prison.
Lady Jane Granville hearing from the officer, that attorney Sharpe was now in town, proposed that Alfred should go to him immediately, and see what accommodation could be made; but all Mr. Percy's family knew too well the malignant and revengeful nature of this man, to expect that any good could result from this measure; as a lawyer, Alfred pronounced that it would be a dangerous step, as it might be construed into an offer to compromise, and a consciousness of the validity of the claim made by their opponent.
Mr. Percy decidedly disapproved of making any concession, or any application to the vile attorney, and determined, as he had declared, not to permit any of his friends to hazard themselves for him, he thanked the sheriff's officer for his proffered indulgence, but thought it best to go to the prison at first, in which at last he must be confined.
It was settled, that Rosamond and Erasmus should remain with Lady Jane Granville, who had been so dreadfully shocked and terrified by what had happened, that she most wanted their care.
Mr. Percy, his wife, and daughter Caroline, then quitted her Ladyship's hospitable and elegant mansion, and were conducted to a very different abode in the King's-Bench. The keeper of this prison, accustomed to see varieties of persons of all ranks, and obliged to form a quick judgment of those who are committed to his custody, was an excellent physiognomist. He was favorably prepossessed by the countenance and demeanor of his prisoner, and by the appearance of the ladies, by whom he was accompanied.——
From the moment they entered, he treated them with the utmost respect and courtesy, which his habits could command. He gave them the choice ... sad choice ... of the unoccupied apartments.——Mr. and Mrs. Percy fixed upon a tolerably clean, but very small room, which they preferred, because it had a closet large enough to contain a bed for Caroline. As soon as they were in possession of these rooms, Caroline began to arrange the little furniture they contained, in such a manner, as to make her father and mother as comfortable as circumstances would admit.——They uttered no complaints.——The gaoler was not used to see people so mild and resigned. His own interest, and the calculation of how much money they were likely to spend with him, were, no doubt, his first considerations, but as far as to dispose him to civility, the manners of his prisoners, at once dignified and gentle, and the cheerfulness of Mr. Percy's temper, certainly operated in their favor.
At night, when the doors were locked, Mr. Percy, looking round him, said with a smile,
"Abstract the idea of being deprived of liberty; except the notion of bolts and bars, turnkeys and gaolers, what is there more terrible in being here, than sleeping in any small lodging in any other part of London?"——
"Except the disgrace," said Mrs. Percy, sighing.
"Had I brought myself to this situation by any vice, or any folly, I should feel it bitterly," answered Mr. Percy, "I should sink, perhaps, under the sense of shame.——But at present, my Love, conscious as I am, that no extravagance, no imprudence of ours has been the cause of our imprisonment, I feel it not as the slightest degradation."——
This assurance relieved Mrs. Percy's mind from her greatest anxiety.——And this night they slept peaceably, while he, who had thrown them into prison, lay in the best of beds, and best of rooms, master of Percy-Hall, and of all that wealth could give, yet was unable to close his eyes.——He lay brooding on past and future plans of avarice and malice.
Since his marriage with Miss Falconer, Sir Robert Percy's establishment had become so expensive, as to fret his temper continually; and his tenants had had more and more reason to complain of their landlord, who, when any of his farms were out of lease, raised his rents exorbitantly, to make himself amends, as he said, for the extravagance of his wife. ——The tenants, who had ever disliked him, as being the successor and enemy of their own good and beloved landlord, now could not, and attempted not to conceal their aversion. It appeared in a variety of ways,——Sir Robert could hardly stir out of his demesne, without being made sensible of it, even by the very children at the cottage doors. This renewed and increased the virulence of his dislike to our branch of the Percys, who, as he knew, were always compared to him and his, who were all idolized, and who seemed indeed to be ever present to the provoking memories of these tenants. ——Sir Robert Percy was disappointed hitherto in the hope for which he married, the hope of an heir, who should prevent the estate from returning to those, from whom it had been wrested by his arts.—— Envy at seeing the rising and prosperous state of those Percys, who, in spite of their loss of fortune, had made their way up again through all obstacles, combined to increase his antipathy to his relations. ——He found a willing assistant in Sharpe, the attorney; and they both enjoyed, as much as malevolence can enjoy any thing, the idea of the arrest.——After it was executed, and that Mr. Percy was lodged in prison, they were, however, a little mortified by finding, that their utmost malice had failed to intimidate their victim, or to extort from him any species of submission, or concession; but, on the contrary, that Mr. Percy had desired his son Alfred immediately to take all the legal steps necessary to obtain redress, and to bring the matter to issue as speedily as possible.
To return to our prisoners, whom we left tranquilly asleep. In the morning, when first they wakened, it was with the feeling that something extraordinary, and painful, had happened; but what had passed the preceding day seemed only as a frightful dream, till the conviction of it's reality was impressed upon their minds by the external objects, which first struck their senses:——the meanness of the room, the grated windows, the strange noises they heard in the passages, and from the yard below.——
Caroline, now recollecting every circumstance, rose with a heavy heart, but appeared before her parents with a cheerful countenance.——Whilst she made breakfast, (Oh how unlike the breakfast of the preceding morning!——) she began to calculate when she could hear from Count Altenberg.——Count Altenberg, whom she scarcely yet ventured to call her husband.——
The gaoler civilly came to offer them newspapers. Caroline opening one, to read it to her father, involuntarily looked first for the foreign news, but her eye was caught by a splendid account of her own marriage, and of Count Altenberg's setting out for the Continent. This prevented her from reading loud for some moments. The next attempt she made was scarcely more successful. All the paragraphs from Germany were calculated to inspire her with the most serious apprehensions.
Count Altenberg had flattered himself by the last despatches from his Court, that the strong measures taken by the Prince would have prevented danger; but the French party had formed new intrigues,——they gained ground.——Every symptom threatened revolution——and, if the newspaper accounts were true, civil war, and foreign invasion, were inevitable.—— But these might be exaggerated statements——Caroline endeavored to think so, and to find comfort in the contradictory accounts in other papers of opposite parties.——While she, her father, and mother, were employed in this manner, one of the turnkeys came in, to say, that an old man, Mr. Percy's steward, wished to see him.
The old man was shown in, but when he saw his master, he was quite overcome, and being unable to speak, he stepped behind the turnkey, making his way back into the passage, where he staid some minutes before he could summon sufficient resolution to return.
When he reappeared, his master went towards the door to meet him, and spoke to him kindly; but this nearly overset him again, and his face worked with strong emotion before he could utter.
"I'm only come, Sir, to see ... you, before I would go down to the country, on account of not knowing if you, or my mistress ... had any orders ... for me,——or any at home."
The word home, which he usually pronounced with full English cordiality of emphasis, he could scarcely articulate ... nor could venture to attempt naming his wife, to whom he could only allude, under the general description of any at home.——
Mr. Percy gave him directions, to which he seemed to listen with motionless attention and respect——occasionally answering,
"So best, Sir"——"It shall be done for certain"——"I understand, Sir."
But at last he put his hand to his forehead, and said——
"I am afeard, Sir, to forget all ... my head's not so clear as it ought-for this morning ... if you'd be pleased, if it would not be too troublesome to write me the orders down here in my book, in pen and ink ... I might be better able to morrow, or when I do get ..."
Home again stopped him——so he unstrapped his pocket-book, and began to write what his master dictated.——Mr. Percy took the pen from John's hand, which trembled so that he could not get on.
"You had better let me write, my good John."
"It is badly blotted, indeed, and a shame"——said the old man——"but I am all I don't know how to day, and no better able, nor sensibler like, than a child——I axe your pardon for being so troublesome——I thank you kindly, Sir."
While his master was writing, John stole a look, which he had never ventured yet, at his mistress and Caroline ——and bowed to each——but as to speaking, that was out of the question——for some time——at last he recollected a note Rosamond had given him for his mistress, and laying it down, he said,——"Might I make bold to axe, Madam, is it true what the gentleman who let me in was telling on me, that this here place is not in the nature of our county jails, but that master will have liberty to walk about as he pleases, and only the gates and doors locked at night, like as for any gentleman's own house and place at home——If so be that's true, it would be some comfort."
Mr. Percy stopped writing, to assure him that the information was correct; and he tried still further to raise his spirits, by telling him that some gentlemen, who had been confined in the King's Bench, had been heard to declare they never were happier in their lives.
"Why, with a good conscience, to be sure, there's no saying how happy a man may be any where——And that's a great point, Ma'am, for my master, that's certain"——said the steward, brightening up a little——"But"——his face clouding again, as he looked at the grated windows——
"A prison's a prison, turn it which way one will——and I never thought for to live to see the day when my master would be in such a place——A gentleman like he, as I have known, boy and man, these forty years, and never knew him to wrong no man, woman, nor child, no how; but quite and clear the contrary, doing good to all, which all can testify ——What sort of a heart must he have, that could go for to lay a finger upon him, and at such a time too——but he is a bad man, if ever there was one ..."
"Don't talk of him, don't think of him," said Mr. Percy.
"So best, Sir," said John——"And, Sir, if in case there's any thing else you think of for me to do, I suppose you can write by post——And I may go now?"——
But still he delayed——Moving slowly towards the door, he said——
"I wish your honor your health, then, and that, please God, you may be soon down with us again, Sir——My mistress the same——And Miss Caroline"——
The thought that she was no longer Miss Caroline, again stopped him, and his feelings at last forcing their way fluently into words, he exclaimed,
"What will my poor woman say, when I get home!——She, who is looking to hear of nothing but o' the wedding and joy——Little guessing, no more than myself, how our Miss Caroline's wedding-day was to end——Lack-a-day, the bride, too, that I myself see, but yesterday this time, the beautifullest bride that ever was seed, and all the power of ladies and gentlemen wishing of her joy——And here she is, locked up in a prison——the bridegroom gone! ——And she might have gone with him, too, in her own carriage, to a palace they say, only that, like an angel as she is and ever was, she would stay to comfort us!"
"Then should not we be comforted, my good John," said Mr. Percy, smiling——"If I had not been thrown into jail by these wicked men, just at the very moment I was parting from my daughter, her mother and I should not now have her sitting between us. Come, my good old friend, follow the example of your master——Turn to the bright side of things——bear up under misfortune, and you will feel it lighten surprisingly."
"Ah, master, so you can do, for yourself——but I can never do the like for you——It makes me a deal worse, so it does, to see you looking so patient withal, and hear you speaking so cheerful——I can't stand it no longer——so had best take myself away."
John made his bow to all. His master called to one of the turnkeys to show him the way out.
"Lack-a-day! when will he do that for you, dear master, could you give any sort of a guess?"
"Law permitting"——said Mr. Percy, "I hope to be with you at the Hills in a few months."
"Months!" repeated the old man, stopping short——"Then afore that, I shall be dead——But if so it is to be——Why, so be it——God's will be done."
This visit from their steward, though it could not serve immediately to raise the spirits of our prisoner, had something in it consolatory as well as touching.
Alfred was the next person who arrived, and his countenance showed, that he brought no good tidings. He had been considering his father's case, and had consulted his friends. As lawyers they had an unfavorable opinion.
Alfred said, that the agreement, which had been entered into between his father and Sir Robert Percy, by which Sir Robert had engaged to relinquish the mesne rents, in consideration of the improvements made by Mr. Percy, however just and however binding it would be between men of honor, was no way good in law.——With professional knowledge, and in technical language, Alfred explained to his father, that "no release of the mesne rents, for the six preceding years, having been executed, an action of trespass for these would lie; and to this action, which Sir Robert had commenced by the writ under which Mr. Percy was arrested, no valid defence, it was feared, could be made.——Because the judgment and proceedings in the former suit on ejectment, by which Sir Robert obtained possession of the Percy estate, were conclusive evidence to bind Mr. Percy in the present action of trespass."
Alfred added "that both he and Mr. Friend had been examining the record of the judgment, and the return of the writ of habere, in hopes of discovering some irregularity, upon which they could ground a defence, but that no error could be detected."
This explanation, unintelligible as it will be to many of our readers, and, as such, incapable of communicating either pain or pleasure, was, alas, too clear to poor Mr. Percy: he perceived, that he had little chance of redress from law; that the decision, when the cause should come to a hearing, would be against him; and that instead of being liberated, as he had hoped, in a few months, he had no likelihood of ever obtaining his liberty, except by selling The Hills, all the remaining property he had in the world. Whether to do this, or to spend the rest of his days in the King's Bench, was the alternative of evil, which would probably be left for his future consideration.
In the mean time, Mr. Percy, naturally of a cheerful temper, and habitually of that philosophy which forbears to anticipate future evil, turned the whole force of his mind towards making the present as easy and tolerable as possible to himself and his fellow-sufferers.
He began to form a settled plan for the occupation of the days he was inevitably doomed to pass in prison, the time that must elapse before the point now in contest could be brought to any decision favorable or unfavorable.——As soon as they could leave Lady Jane Granville, Rosamond and Erasmus came to join the family-council. Mrs. Percy then arranged with them at what hours he should wish his friends to call upon him, and at what hours he should like to see his family——what time he would give to exercise, and what to literary occupation. ——Literature! inestimable resource to the prisoner!
Rosamond was excessively anxious to be permitted to stay with her father, or at least to be allowed in her turn every other week to take the place of Caroline or of her mother, whose health would be most likely to suffer by continued confinement. As none of this family wanted to vie with each other in generosity, or in demonstrations of affection, all readily consented to do that which was most reasonable, and most likely to be for the general good. It was therefore settled, that every second week either Mrs. Percy, or one of her daughters, should spend at Alfred's house.——Lady Jane Granville and Mrs. Hungerford had written to beg Mrs. Percy and her daughters would come to their houses, whenever they could leave Mr. Percy——but from this they excused themselves, as they wished to live in as retired a manner as possible. To the propriety of this resolution they knew their kind friends must accede.
Their plan once settled, they adhered to it invariably. Their hours and days passed so regularly, that they began to feel as if the ordering of them in a certain manner was the necessary course of life. Some time passed without bringing any change in their circumstances.
Letters arrived from Count Altenberg, which did not tend to put Caroline more at ease. Public affairs indeed were not so desperate as the newspapers had represented them to be——But domestic sorrow awaited him. Very soon after his return, his father was seized with an illness of so dangerous a nature, that his son could not possibly leave him.——Post after post brought accounts of the progress of the malady, which at last terminated fatally. The death of his father, the funeral, and much business, which respect to his memory required to be performed, detained Count Altenberg. Till at length, when all was arranged, and Caroline had reason to hope, that his next letter would announce his setting out, public affairs again demanded delay. The French declared war——their troops were in motion, and it was necessary to prepare for the defence of the country against invasion. Their General boasted, that he would be within the gates of their city, and within the walls of their palace, before the ensuing month should be at an end. In these circumstances, when his prince and his country required his services, it was impossible that Count Altenberg should desert his post. The letters he wrote to Caroline breathed the most ardent affection, expressing in different ways this strong sentiment,
'I could not love thee, dear, so much, Lov'd I not honor more.' Caroline prepared for the anxiety that must be more or less the lot of the wife of a man in Count Altenberg's public situation, bore it with fortitude, and however it preyed upon her mind, she never uttered any expression of impatience or complaint. Her husband's reputation and her own duty were her first objects; and whatever she suffered in the performance of one, or in the hope of his attaining the other, appeared to her of inferior, and comparatively small importance. ——It was not merely in the generous emotion or transitory heroism of the moment, that she offered, when she saw her father arrested, to stay with him and share his imprisonment; she was aware of what she offered, her resolution and affection were sufficient to sustain her through the protracted sacrifice. Nor did she appear to think it a sacrifice ——Never for an instant did she remit those daily, hourly, fond and grateful attentions, which convinced her father, that she did not repent the determination she had made.
Poor Rosamond all this time was suffering also, both for her father and for her lover. Mr. Temple was still unable to obtain the performance of the promise which had been made him, of remuneration, and of competent provision. He had gone through, in compliance with the advice of his friends, the mortification of reiterating vain memorials and applications to the Duke of Greenwich——Lord Skrimpshire——Lord Skreene, and Mr. Secretary Cope.——The only thing, which Mr. Temple refused to do, was to implicate Lord Oldborough, or to disturb him on the subject.——He had spent some weeks with his old master in his retirement, without once adverting to his own difficulties, still hoping, that on his return to town a promise would be fulfilled, which Lord Skreene had given him, that "the affair should in his absence be settled to his satisfaction."—— But on his return to town, his Lordship found means of evasion and delay, and threw the blame on others; the course of memorials and representations was to be recommenced.——Mr. Temple's pride revolted, his love was in despair——and frequently, in the bitterness of disappointment, he reiterated to his friend Alfred, his exclamations of regret and self-reproach, for having quitted from pique and impatience of spirit a profession, where his own perseverance and exertions would infallibly have rendered him by this time independent.——Rosamond saw with sympathy and anguish the effect, which these feelings of self-reproach, and hope delayed, produced on Mr. Temple's spirits and health.——His sensibility, naturally quick, and rendered more acute by disappointment, seemed now continually to draw from all characters and events, and even from every book he opened, a moral against himself, some new illustration or example, which convinced him more and more of the folly of being a dependant on the great. He was just in this repentant mood, when one morning, at Mrs. Alfred Percy's, Rosamond heard him sigh deeply several times, as he was reading with great attention. She could not forbear asking what it was that touched him so much.——He put the book into her hands, pointing to the following passage——"The whole of this letter [Note: Letter from Mr. Williams (Secretary to Lord Chancellor West) to Mrs. Williams.]," said he, "is applicable to me, and excellent, but this really seems as if it had been written for me, or by me."
"I was a young man, and did not think that men were to die, or to be turned out —— What was to be done now?——No money, my former patron in disgrace! friends that were in favor not able to serve me, or not willing; that is, cold, timid, careful of themselves, and indifferent to a man whose disappointments made him less agreeable —————— I languished on for three long melancholy years, sometimes a little elated; a smile, a kind hint, a downright promise, dealt out to me from those in whom I had placed some silly hopes, now and then brought a little refreshment, but that never lasted long, and to say nothing of the agony of being reduced to talk of one's own misfortunes and one's wants, and that basest and lowest of all conditions, the slavery of borrowing, to support an idle useless being——my time, for those three years, was unhappy beyond description. What would I have given then for a profession! —————— any useful profession is infinitely better than a thousand patrons."
To this Rosamond entirely acceded, and admired the strong good sense of the whole letter, but she observed to Mr. Temple, that it was very unjust, not only to himself, but what was of much more consequence to her, to say that all this applied exactly to his case.—— "Did Mr. Temple," she asked him, "did he mean to insult her, by asserting that she could esteem, or have been near consenting to marry a man, who was an idle useless being. No, it was impossible, that any one who had been a mere dependent on great men, and a follower of courts, could ever have recommended himself to her father and her whole family, could ever have been the chosen friend of her brother Alfred."
Rosamond then, with playfulness of manner, but serious kindness, pleaded Mr. Temple's cause against himself.
"It was true," she acknowledged, "that this friend of her brother's had made one mistake in early life, but who is there that can say, that he has not in youth or age committed a single error.—— Mr. Temple had done one silly thing to be sure, in quarrelling with his profession; but he had suffered, and had made amends for this afterwards, by persevering application to literature. There he had obtained the success he deserved.——Gentlemen might sigh and shake their heads, but could any gentleman deny this? Could it be denied, that Mr. Temple had distinguished himself in literature?—— Could any person deny, that a political pamphlet of his recommended him to the notice of Lord Oldborough, one of the ablest statemen in England, who made him his secretary, and whose esteem and confidence he afterwards acquired by his merit, and continued in place and out, to enjoy?——Will any gentleman deny this?" ——Rosamond added, that "in defence of her brother's friend she could not help observing, that a man who had obtained the esteem of some of the first persons of their day, who had filled an employment of trust, that of secretary to a minister, with fidelity and credit, who had published three celebrated political pamphlets, and two volumes of moral and philosophical disquisitions, which, as she heard the bookseller say, were become stock books, could not deserve to be called an idle useless being. To be born and die would not make all his history.——No:——such a man would at least be secure of honorable mention in the Biographia Britannica, as a writer moral——political——metaphysical."
When Rosamond had, by this defence of Mr. Temple, raised his spirits, and when she had touched his heart by the kindness of her raillery, she seized the moment to urge him to continue his exertions, and not to sink into the idleness of despondency.——She was aware, she said, that while he was in suspense about this promised place, it was difficult to follow steadily any employment; but she also knew, that, if he could interest himself in an occupation in which he could continually advance by his industry,
it would afford the best relief to his mind, and would raise him in his own opinion, and in hers.
This last argument especially was so forcible, that from that hour Mr. Temple regularly devoted a portion of every day to a new work, which he had commenced, but which in the uncertain situation of his affairs, and the anxious state of his heart, he had not had courage to pursue, till Rosamond supplied him with sufficient motive.
Considering Mr. Temple now almost as one of the Percy family, their biographer has thought it not impertinent to continue his history with theirs.
About this time, as if fortune was determined to persist in showing herself averse to those, who had never thoroughly believed in her power; another calamity, which no prudence could prevent, befel them.——Soon after they had received letters from Colonel Gascoigne, giving the most satisfactory account of Godfrey——saying that he had obtained the highest character among his brother officers, and that he was returning home; just about the time when his father expected to see him came intelligence, that the transport, in which Major Percy's division of the regiment was embarked, had been separated from her convoy by a gale of wind in the night, and it was apprehended, that she had been taken by the enemy.—— Godfrey's family hoped for a moment, that this might be a false alarm, but after enduring the misery of reading contradictory paragraphs and contests of the newspaper writers with each other for several successive days, it was at last too clearly established and confirmed by official intelligence, that the transport was taken by a Dutch ship.——Colonel Gascoigne with his division of the regiment arrived safely, and no doubt remained of the misfortune, which had happened to Godfrey.
For some weeks they never heard more of his fate.——This suspense was dreadful. The Percys have often since declared, that of all they suffered at this period of their lives suspense was the evil, which they found the most difficult to endure.——And each individual of the family was held in anxious uncertainty, for a considerable length of time, on many points the most nearly interesting to their hearts.——
Mr. Percy's son was a prisoner, he knew not in what circumstances.——His son-in-law, Count Altenberg, in the perilous situation of prime minister, in a state threatened with revolution, and certain of immediate invasion.——Caroline's color fading, and her health beginning to suffer from anxiety.——Rosamond too, with Mr. Temple, fluctuating between hope and fear.——Mr. Percy's own liberty for the depending on the event of a trial, on a point of law, over which neither his character nor his abilities could have any influence, and of which the decision could not be hastened by any possible exertion he or his family could make.
Suspense may be easily endured by persons of an indolent character, who never expect to rule their destiny by their own genius; but to those, who feel themselves possessed of energy and abilities to surmount obstacles, and to brave dangers, it is torture to be compelled to remain passive, to feel that prudence, virtue, genius, avail them not, that while rapid ideas pass in their imagination, time moves with an unalterable pace, and compels them to wait, along with the herd of vulgar mortals, for the knowledge of futurity.
