CHAP. II.

Disquisition or Calumny.-Mrs. Percy's opinion of her son-Consults his heart-Admires his constancy to Clara, but informs him of her prudential marriage with a banker, in consequence of her believing Henry to be licentious and insincere.-Henry rails against the malignity of fortune.-The mother exults and consoles -She excites his ambition-Is proud to find him at liberty to make a grand mercenary match.

TO acquire a clear and satisfactory knowledge of the history of any person, it is necessary to have a distinct notion of the friends, and of the places, which were the actors, and the scenes, of the principal events of his life. This conviction obliges me once again to introduce Mrs. Percy to the attention of the reader, and to relate a conversation of extraordinary interest which she held with her son.

There is nothing more absurdly unjust

than

than the liberty which some people indulge themselves in of believing every little rumour of calumny, when envy and malice take delight in circulating both through country and town. This injustice did not belong to Mrs. Percy; she heard of Henry's conduct, as it was magnified by the SATIRIST of the day, but she did not believe; she inquired, and acquitted him of every injurious charge. There could be no trait more honourable in this lady's character than this generous incredulity, for it is a remark mortifying to human vanity, that the mean vice of credulousness is mostly prevalent in the human breast. A person who will not absolutely invent a slander, shall with the most malignant pleasure first believe, and next propagate it, not considering that this sanction must make it of much worse consequence than if the slander depended solely on the credit of the author, who, when inquired after, is most commonly found to be a mercenary SATIRIST, that is, a person by profession and nature a daring and impu

dent

dent liar. But, at the same time, the reports which were circulated so much to Henry's disadvantage led Mrs. Percy to a discovery of the real causes of his disappointments and miscarriages, and induced her at length to believe that he would have been more successful in any other vocation than the one in which she herself caused him to be engaged. And when he returned to her presence, she was confirmed in this opinion, and had to acknowledge that his extraordinary endowments, great acquisitions, and transcendant elevation of mind, were, from the nature of things, entirely thrown away upon the church.

"Bold and rapid in his speech, daring in his counsels, and fixed in his resolves, the stature of his mind," she used to say,

overtops his associates, and collects upon him the eyes of all-the shafts of many. An humble curacy can never satisfy or moderate his pride. He deserves more friends, fewer enemies; but there is something in him that must one day be obeyed, and his

opponents

opponents shall fly or fall before his victorious and envied ascendency. Had he been brought up to arms, like Marlborough, success would have pursued his steps: in courage violent and sudden; in revenge neither frequent nor implacable. Had he followed the law, like Shaftesbury, he would have no enemy, and would be seen to administer justice with unbounded honours and undivided applause. Had he been bred to politics, like Fox in peaceful times, he would have been beloved and adored. In days of ferment, like Pit, he would support the tottering pillars of the state. But in the church, where talents are neglected, and where preferment is not the result of capacity, or the reward of a life spent with industry and praise, even to the last miserable dregs, I see no hopes for him but in marriage, and that I shall make it my business, by some means or other, to bring him to effect."

Animated by this determination, Mrs. Percy seized the first favourable opportunity of conversing with Henry on the affairs of

his

his heart. She found him in the library, walking with folded arms pensively up and down. He had been contemplating the Arcadian painting, which contained a resemblance to Clara, executed by her own hand; and the recollection threw him into a state of distress, which his mother strove to dissipate, by conversing with him in the most affable and endearing terms. She asked him in a free, pleasant manner, if he had made no choice of a wife, in all his long absence and wanderings about the world; and on his answering in the negative, she seemed to show some surprise that he could remain so insensible as not to be able to determine to whom he should give his hand. Henry, who thought he perceived the aim of all her remarks, blushed, and answered with a sigh, that indeed he had never sought for any one on whom a preference should be bestowed.

66

"What," said Mrs. Percy, with an engaging smile, are you so difficult to be pleased that you have never met a person

whom