Tales And Novels, Volume 1 by Maria Edgeworth

M >> Maria Edgeworth >> Tales And Novels, Volume 1

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"Your humble servant,

"CORNELIUS O'SHANNON.

"P.S. Sir Philip is at your service, after your settling with me."

Archibald, oppressed with the sense of his own meanness, and somewhat
alarmed at the idea of fighting three duels, to retrieve his credit,
thought it best to submit, without struggle, in the first instance, to
that public disgrace which he had merited. He wrote a shabby apology to
Major O'Shannon and Sir Philip, concluding with saying, that rather than
lose a friend he so much valued as Sir Philip Gosling, he was willing to
forget all that had passed, and even to take back the pony, and to return
Sawney, if the matter could, by this means, be adjusted to his
satisfaction. He then went to his mother, and talked to her, in a high
style, of his desperate intentions with respect to Henry Campbell.
"Either he or I must fall, before we quit the ground," said the artful
Archibald--well knowing that Lady Catherine's maternal tenderness would
be awakened by these ideas. Other ideas were also awakened in the prudent
mother's mind. Dr. Campbell was nearly related to a general officer, from
whom she looked for promotion for her son. She repented, upon reflection,
of what she had hastily said concerning _the lie direct, and the spirit
of a gentleman_; and she softened down her pride, and talked of her
dislike to breaking up old family friendships. Thence she digressed into
hints of the advantages that might accrue from cultivating Dr. Campbell's
good opinion; admitted that Henry was strangely prejudiced in favour of
his rough friend Forester; but observed that Mr. Forester, after all,
though singular, was a young man of merit, and at the head of a very
considerable estate. "Archibald," said she, "we must make allowances, and
conciliate matters--unless you make this young gentleman your friend, you
can never hope to be on an eligible footing with his guardian. His
guardian, you see, is glad to get him back again, and, I dare say, has
his reasons. I never saw him, and I know him well, in such spirits in my
life as he was when he came back to us to announce the probability of his
ward's return to-morrow morning. The doctor, I dare say, has good reasons
for what he does; and I understand his ward is reconciled to the idea of
living in the world, and enjoying his fine fortune like other people. So
I hope you and he, and of course you and the doctor, and Henry Campbell,
will be very good friends. I shall leave you at Edinburgh for a few
months, till we get our commission; and I shall beg the doctor to
introduce you to his friend and relation, General D----. If he can do
nothing for you, you may look towards the Church. I trust to your
prudence, not to think of Flora Campbell, though I leave you in the house
with her; for you can't afford, Archibald, to marry a girl with so small
a fortune; and, you may be sure, her friends have other views for her.
Pray let me hear no more of duels and quarrels. And let us go down into
the ball-room; for Miss Campbell has been dressed and down-stairs this
half hour; and I would not have you inattentive--that might displease as
much as the other extreme. In short, I may safely leave you to your own
discretion." Lady Catherine, after this prudent exhortation, entered the
ball-room, where all the company soon after assembled. Seated in gay
ranges, the well-dressed belles were eager for the dancing to commence.
Lady Catherine stood by Dr. Campbell; and as soon as the ball began, when
the music played, and she saw every one absorbed in themselves, or in
their partners, she addressed herself to the doctor on the subject which
was next her heart, or rather next her imagination. "The general is to be
with you shortly, I understand," said she. Dr. Campbell coldly answered
in the affirmative. "To be candid with you, doctor, if you'll sit down, I
want to have a little chat with you about my Archibald. He is not every
thing I could wish, and I see you are displeased with him about this
foolish business that has just happened. For my own part, I think him to
blame; but we must pardon, we must make allowances for the errors of
youth; and I need not, to a man of your humanity, observe what a cruel
thing it is to prejudice the world against a young man, by telling little
anecdotes to his disadvantage. Relations must surely uphold one another;
and I am convinced you will speak of Archibald with candour and
friendship." "With candour and with truth," replied Dr. Campbell. "I
cannot pretend to feel friendship merely on the score of relationship."

The proud blood mounted into Lady Catherine's face, and she replied,
"Some consideration of one's own relations, I think, is not unbecoming.
Archibald, I should have thought, had as strong a claim upon Dr.
Campbell's friendship as the son of an utter stranger to the family. Old
Mr. Forester had a monstrous fortune, 'tis true; but his wife, who was no
grand affair, I believe--a merchant's daughter, I'm told--brought him
the greatest part of it; and yet, without any natural connexion between
the families, or any thing very desirable, setting fortune out of the
question, you accept the guardianship of this young man, and prefer him,
I plainly see, to my Archibald. I candidly ask you the question, and
answer me candidly."

"As you have explicitly asked the question, I will answer your ladyship
candidly. I do prefer my ward to your son. I have avoided drawing
comparisons between your son and Forester; and I now wish to avoid
speaking of Mr. Archibald Mackenzie, because I have little hope of being
of service to him."

"Nay," said Lady Catherine, softening her tone, "you know you have it in
your power to be of the greatest service to him."

"I have done all I could," said Dr. Campbell, with a sigh; "but habits
of--"

"Oh, but I'm not talking of habits," interrupted Lady Catherine. "I'll
make him alter his habits. We shall soon turn him into what you like:
he's very quick; and you must not expect every young man to be just cut
out upon the pattern of our dear Henry. I don't want to trouble you to
alter his habits, or to teach him chemistry, or any of those things. But
you can, you know, without all that, do him an essential service."

"How?" said Dr. Campbell.

"Why how? I don't know you this evening, you are so dry. Ken you not what
I mean? Speak three words for him to your friend, the general."

"Your ladyship must excuse me," said Dr. Campbell.

Lady Catherine was stunned by this distinct refusal. She urged Dr.
Campbell to explain the cause of his dislike to her son.

"There is a poor washerwoman now below stairs," replied Dr. Campbell,
"who can explain to you more than I wish to explain; and a story about a
horse of Sir Philip Gosling was told to me the other day, by one of the
baronet's friends, which I should be glad Mr. Archibald Mackenzie could
contradict effectually."

"Archibald, come here," said Lady Catherine: "before the next dance
begins, I must speak to you. What is this about a horse of Sir Philip
Gosling?"

"Ma'am!" said Archibald, with great astonishment. At this instant one of
Dr. Campbell's servants came into the room, and gave two notes to
Archibald, which, he said, two gentlemen had just left, and desired him
to deliver to Mr. Mackenzie whilst he was in the ball-room, if possible.

"What is it?--What are they, child?" cried Lady Catherine. "I will see
them." Her ladyship snatched the notes, read, and when she saw that her
son, in the grossest terms, was called a coward, for refusing the
challenges of two such fashionable men as Sir Philip Gosling and Major
O'Shannon, all her hopes of him were at an end. "Our family is disgraced
for ever!" she exclaimed; and then, perceiving that she had uttered this
unguarded sentence loud enough for several of the company to hear, she
endeavoured to laugh, and fell into violent hysterics. She was carried
out of the ball-room. A whisper now ran round the room of--"What's the
matter with Lady Catherine Mackenzie?" It was at an unfortunate moment
that she was carried out, for all the dancers had just seated themselves,
after a brisk country dance; and the eyes of all the young and old were
upon her ladyship as she made her exit. A young man, a friend of Major
O'Shannon, who was present, whispered the secret to his partner; she, of
course, to her next neighbour. Archibald saw that the contents of the
notes were made public; and he quitted the apartment, "to inquire how his
mother did."

The buzz of scandal was general for some moments; but a new object soon
engrossed the attention of the company. "Pray," said a young lady, who
was looping up Flora Campbell's gown, "who is this gentleman, who is just
coming into the room?" Flora looked up, and saw a well-dressed stranger
entering the room, who had much the appearance of a gentleman. He
certainly resembled a person she had seen before; but she could scarcely
believe that her eyes did not deceive her. Therefore she hesitatingly
replied to the young lady's question, "I don't know--I am not sure." But
she, an instant afterwards, saw her brother Henry and her father advance
so eagerly to meet the stranger, that her doubts vanished; and, as he now
directed his steps towards the spot where she was standing, she corrected
her first answer to her companion's question, and said, "Yes, I fancy--it
certainly is--Mr. Forester." Forester, with an open countenance, slightly
tinged with the blush of ingenuous shame, approached her, as if he was
afraid she had not forgotten some things which he wished to be forgotten;
and yet as if he was conscious that he was not wholly unworthy of her
esteem. "Amongst other prejudices of which I have cured myself," said he
to Dr. Campbell, "since we parted, I have cured myself of my foolish
antipathy to Scotch reels."

"That I can scarcely believe," said Dr. Campbell, with an incredulous
smile.

"I will convince you of it," said Forester, "if you will promise to
forget all my other follies."

"_All!_" said Dr. Campbell. "Convince me first; and then it will be time
enough to make such a desperate promise."

Flora was rather surprised when our once cynical hero begged the favour
of her hand, and led her to dance a reel. M. Pasgrave would have been in
ecstasy if he had seen his pupil's performance.

"And now, my dear Forester," said Dr. Campbell, as his ward returned to
claim his promise of a general amnesty, "if you do not turn out a
coxcomb, if you do not 'mistake reverse of wrong for right,' you will
infallibly be a very great man. Give me a pupil who can cure himself of
any one foible, and I have hope of him. What hope must I not have of him
who has cured himself of so many!"

THE PRUSSIAN VASE

Frederick the Second, king of Prussia, after his conquest of Saxony,
transported, it is said[1], by force, several manufacturers from Dresden
to Berlin, where he was very desirous of establishing the manufacture of
china. These unfortunate people, separated from their friends, their
home, and their native country, were compelled to continue their labours
for the profit and for the glory of their conqueror. Amongst the number
of those sufferers was Sophia Mansfeld. She was young, handsome, and
possessed considerable talents. Several pieces of porcelain of her design
and modelling were shown to Frederick, when he visited the manufactory at
Meissen, in Saxony; and their taste and workmanship appeared to him so
exquisite, that he determined to transport the artist to his capital. But
from the time of her arrival at Berlin, Sophia Mansfeld's genius seemed
to forsake her. It was her business to sketch designs, and to paint them
on the porcelain; but either she could not or would not execute these
with her former elegance: the figures were awkward and spiritless, and it
was in vain that the overseer of the works attempted to rouse her to
exertion; she would sit for hours, with her pencil in her hand, in a sort
of reverie. It was melancholy to see her. The overseer had compassion
upon her; but his compassion was not so great as his dread of the king's
displeasure; and he at length declared, that the next time Frederick
visited the works, he must complain of her obstinate idleness.

[Footnote 1: Vide Wraxall'g Memoirs of the Court of Berlin.]

The monarch was expected in a few days; for, in the midst, of his various
occupations, Frederick, who was at this time extremely intent upon the
establishment of the porcelain manufactory at Berlin, found leisure
frequently to inspect it in person. The king, however, was prevented from
coming at the appointed hour by a review at Potzdam. His majesty had
formed the singular project of embodying, and training to the science of
arms, the Jews in his dominions[2]. They were rather awkward in learning
the manual exercise; and the Jewish review, though it afforded infinite
amusement to the spectators, put Frederick so much out of humour, that,
as soon as it was over, he rode to his palace of Sans Souci, and shut
himself up for the remainder of the morning. The preceding evening an
English traveller, who had passed some time at Paris with the Count de
Lauragais, in trying experiments upon porcelain clays, and who had
received much instruction on this subject from Mr. Wedgewood, of Etruria,
had been presented to the king, and his majesty had invited him to be
present at a trial of some new process of importance, which was to be
made this morning at his manufactory. The English traveller, who was more
intent upon his countryman Mr. Wedgewood's fame than upon the martial
manoeuvres of the Jews, proceeded, as soon as the review was finished, to
exhibit his English specimens to a party of gentlemen, who had appointed
to meet him at the china-works at Berlin.

[Footnote 2: Wraxall's Memoirs of the Court of Berlin, &c.]

Of this party, was a youth of the name of Augustus Laniska, who was at
this time scarcely seventeen years old. He was a Pole by birth--a
Prussian by education. He had been bred up at the military school at
Potzdam, and being distinguished by Frederick as a boy of high spirit and
capacity, he was early inspired with enthusiastic admiration of this
monarch. His admiration, however, was neither blind nor servile. He saw
Frederick's faults as well as his great qualities; and he often expressed
himself with more openness and warmth upon this subject than prudence
could justify. He had conversed with unusual freedom about Frederick's
character with our English traveller; and whilst he was zealous to
display every proof of the king's greatness of mind, he was sometimes
forced to acknowledge that "there are disadvantages in living under the
power of a despotic sovereign."

"A despotic sovereign! You will not then call your Frederick a despot?"
whispered the English traveller to the young Pole, as they entered the
china-works at Berlin. "This is a promising manufactory, no doubt,"
continued he; "and Dresden china will probably soon be called Berlin
china, by which the world in general will certainly be much benefited.
But in the meantime look around you, and read your monarch's history in
the eyes of those prisoners of war--for such I must call these
expatriated manufacturers."

There were, indeed, many countenances in which great dejection was
visible. "Look at that picture of melancholy," resumed the Englishman,
pointing to the figure of Sophia Mansfeld--"observe even now, whilst the
overseer is standing near her, how reluctantly she works! 'Tis the way
with all slaves. Our English manufacturers (I wish you could see them)
work in quite another manner--for they are free--"

"And are free men, or free women, never ill?" said Laniska; "or do you
Englishmen blame your king, whenever any of his subjects turn pale?--The
woman at whom you are now looking is evidently ill. I will inquire from
the overseer what is the matter with her."

Laniska then turned to the overseer, and asked him in German several
questions, to which he received answers that he did not translate to the
English traveller; he was unwilling that any thing unfavourable to the
cause of his sovereign should appear; and, returning to his companion, he
changed the conversation. When all the company were occupied round the
furnaces, attending to the Englishman's experiments, Laniska went back to
the apartment where Sophia Mansfeld was at work. "My good girl," said he
to her, "what is the matter with you? The overseer tells me, that since
you came here you have done nothing that is worth looking at; yet this
charming piece (pointing to a bowl of her painting, which had been
brought from Saxony) is of your design, is it not?"

"Yes, sir," replied Sophia, "I painted it--to my sorrow. If the king had
never seen or liked it, I should now be--" The recollection of her home,
which at this instant rushed full upon her mind, overpowered her, and she
paused.

"You would now be in Saxony," resumed Laniska; "but forget Saxony, and
you will be happy at Berlin."

"I cannot forget Saxony, sir," answered the young woman, with modest
firmness; "I cannot forget a father and mother whom I love, who are old
and infirm, and who depended on me for their support. I cannot forget
every thing--every body that I have ever loved: I wish I could."

"Sir," whispered a Prussian workman, who stood by--"sir, she has a lover
in Saxony, to whom she was just going to be married, when she was carried
off from her cottage, and brought hither."

"Cannot her lover follow her?" said Laniska.

"He is in Berlin, in concealment," replied the workman, in a whisper;
"you won't betray him, I am sure."

"Not I," said Laniska; "I never betrayed any one, and I never shall--much
less the unfortunate. But why is her lover in concealment?"

"Because it is the king's pleasure," replied the Prussian, "that she
should no longer consider him as her lover. You know, sir, several of
these Saxon women have been compelled, since their arrival at Berlin, to
marry Prussians. Sophia Mansfeld has fallen to the lot of a Prussian
soldier, who swears that if she delays another month to marry him, he
will complain to the king of her obstinacy. Our overseer, too, threatens
to complain of her idleness. She is ruined if she go on in this way: we
tell her so, but she seems to have lost all sense; for she sits as she
does now, like one stupified, half the day, let us say what we will to
her. We pity her; but the king knows best: the king must be obeyed."

"Slave!" exclaimed Laniska, bursting into a sudden transport of
indignation, "slave! you are fit to live only under a tyrant. The king
knows best! the king must be obeyed! What! when his commands are contrary
to reason, to justice, to humanity?" Laniska stopped short, but not
before the high tone of his voice, and the boldness of the words he
uttered, had astonished and dismayed all present,--all except Sophia
Mansfeld: her whole countenance became suddenly illuminated; she started
up, rushed forwards, threw herself at the feet of Laniska, and exclaimed,
"Save me! you can save me! you have courage; and you are a powerful lord,
and you can speak to the king. Save me from this detested marriage!"

The party of gentlemen who had been in the next chamber now entered the
room, curious to know what had drawn thither such a crowd of workmen. On
seeing them enter, Sophia, recollecting herself, rose, and returned to
her work quietly; whilst Laniska, much agitated, seized hold of the
Englishman's arm, and hurried out of the manufactory.

"You are right, you are right," cried he, "Frederick is a tyrant! But how
can I save his victim?"

"Not by violence, my Augustus; not by violence!" replied a young man of
the name of Albert, who followed Laniska, anxious to restrain the
impetuosity of his friend's temper, with which he was well acquainted.
"By imprudence," said he, "you will but expose yourself to danger; you
will save, you will serve no one."

"Tame prudence will neither save nor serve any one, however it may
prevent its possessor from exposing _himself_ to danger," retorted
Laniska, casting upon Albert a look of contemptuous reproach. "Prudence
be your virtue,--courage mine."

"Are they incompatible?" said Albert, calmly.

"I know not," replied Laniska; "but this I know, that I am in no humour
to reason that point, or any other, according to all those cursed forms
of logic, which, I believe, you love better than any thing else."

"Not better than I love you, as I prove by allowing you to curse them as
much and as often as you think proper," replied Albert, with a smile,
which could not, however, force one from his angry friend.

"You are right to practise logic and rhetoric," resumed Laniska, "as much
and as often as you can, since in your profession you are to make your
bread by your tongue and your pen. I am a soldier, or soon to be a
soldier, and have other arms and other feelings."

"I will not dispute the superiority of your arms," replied Albert; "I
will only beg of you to remember, that mine will be at your service
whenever you want or wish for them."

This temperate and friendly reply entirely calmed Laniska. "What would
become of Augustus Laniska," said he, giving Albert his hand, "if he had
not such a friend as you are? My mother may well say this, as she does
ten times a-day; but now take it in your sober manner, what can we do for
this poor woman? for something must be done."

After some consideration, Albert and Laniska determined to draw up a
petition for Sophia, and to present it to the king, who was known to pay
ready and minute attention to every application made to him in writing,
even by the meanest of his subjects. The petition was presented, and an
answer anxiously expected. Frederick, when at Potzdam, often honoured the
Countess Laniska with a visit. She was a woman of considerable
information and literature, acquirements not common amongst the Polish or
Prussian ladies; and the king distinguished the countess by his
approbation, in order to excite some emulation amongst his female
subjects. She held a sort of _conversazione_ at her house, which was
frequented by all foreigners of distinction, and especially by some of
the French literati, who were at this time at Frederick's court.

One evening--it was a few days after Sophia Mansfeld's petition had been
presented--the king was at the Countess Laniska's, and the company were
conversing upon some literary subject, when Frederick, who had been
unusually silent, suddenly turned to the English traveller, who was one
of the company, and asked him whether his countryman, Mr. Wedgewood, had
not made a beautiful imitation of the Barberini, or Portland Vase?

The Englishman replied, that the imitation was so exquisite, as scarcely
to be known by the best judges from the original: and he went on, with
much eagerness, to give a description of the vase, that he might
afterward, for the honour of his country, repeat some lines written upon
the subject by an English poet[3]. Frederick was himself a poet, and a
judge of poetry; he listened to the lines with attention; and, as soon as
the Englishman had finished speaking, he exclaimed, "I will write a
description of the Prussian vase myself."

[Footnote 3: Darwin.--See his description of the Barberini vase in the
Botanic Garden. We hope our readers will pardon this anachronism.]

"The Prussian Vase!" said the English traveller: "I hope I may have the
honour of seeing it before I leave Berlin."

"If you prolong your stay another month, your curiosity will probably be
gratified," replied Frederick. "The Prussian Vase is not yet in being;
but I have this day determined to offer a reward, that I know will
produce a vase worthy of Prussia. Those who have the command of motives,
and know their power, have also the command of all that the arts, or what
is called a _genius_ for the arts, can produce. The human mind, and human
fingers, are much the same in Italy, in England, and in Prussia. Then,
why should not we have a Prussian as as well as a Wedgewood's or a
Barberini Vase? We shall see. I do not understand _mon metier de roi_, if
I cannot call forth talents where I know them to exist. There is,"
continued the king, fixing his eyes full upon Laniska, "there is, in my
porcelain manufactory at Berlin, a woman of considerable talents, who is
extremely anxious to return, along with some lovers of hers, to Saxony.
Like all other _prisoners of war_, she must purchase her liberty from the
conqueror; and if she cannot pay her ransom in gold, let her pay it by
her talents. I do not give premiums to idleness or obstinacy. _The king
must be obeyed, whether he knows how to command or not: let all the
world, who are able to judge, decide._" Frederick, as soon as he had
finished this speech, which he pronounced in a peremptory tone, left the
room; and Laniska's friend, who perceived that the imprudent words he had
uttered in Berlin had reached the king's ear, gave the young man up for
lost. To their surprise, however, the king took no further notice of what
had happened, but received Laniska the next day at Sans Souci with all
his usual kindness. Laniska, who was of an open, generous temper, was
touched by this conduct; and, throwing himself at Frederick's feet, he
exclaimed:--

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