# Duty and Inclination/Chapter 46

CHAPTER III.
"And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill,
Where no ill seems."
Milton.
It was one of Sir Howard's established maxims to take every opportunity of making advances upon the virtue of those whose beauty animated his efforts, and who were not sufficiently guarded to resist his attacks. Marriage, unconnected with worldly views, had never gained admission to his thoughts. Wealth, his idol, governed, and rendered every other inchnation subordinate.
Thus, how inconsistent might seem his pursuit of Rosilia, she who had little else but her fair self to bestow, adorned by virtue, gifted by talent, recommendations undoubtedly more than equivalent for his adventitious circumstances and the boasted honour attached to his title! Why, in withdrawing herself from his adulations, did he persevere in obtruding them upon her, perfectly assured, as he might be, that those seductions, hitherto so triumphant with the many, with Rosilia could no longer avail him! From the knowledge he had acquired of her, he could not for one moment entertain the bare suggestion of subduing her virtue! To ​raise himself in her favourable estimation was the only means, he felt persuaded, by which he might aspire to the affections of her heart; and the greater the resistance he met with, the greater was his desire to obtain them,
"As all impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy."
Daily perplexed between love and ambition, he was sensible of many a secret conflict. Sometimes he thought to subdue his flame, to fly from its object, and to see her no more. But such was the instability of his resolutions, that as soon as formed, so soon they were vanquished: and again, when led to seek her presence, a thousand times he felt tempted to throw his fortunes at her feet, and solicit her hand in marriage.
His self-love, however, again interposing, considering marriage as a traffic: "And what," he asked himself, "am I to gain in exchange for what I give? Not even the certainty of possessing her heart,—a form of loveliness, but a form divested of its life,—those love-beaming principles existing no doubt, but not as yet for me: and if thus to dispose of myself, thus to relinquish other considerations ever held in such high value by me, I ought at least to meet a compensation, a return of sentiment. I must be loved for myself alone, and that such is the case, I must, before I make an offer, obtain the most unequivocal proof."
As nothing short of this could satisfy him, he still resolved to pursue every stratagem to secure to himself—vain and futile as was the effort,—the affection of ​Rosilia; in itself so free, so generously and spontaneously to be given, and which no wealth could purchase, no arts could ensnare.
Sir Howard possessed an income of 1000l. per annum, which he deemed barely adequate for his fashionable career. It was upon riches he founded his claim to importance; riches could alone supply the enjoyments of luxury; those voluptuous pleasures upon which the sensualist refines, and without which life appears but a mere vegetative existence, unproductive of enjoyment.
He had formed an acquaintance with a rich widow, who in some degree favoured his pretensions; but being his senior by some years, she had in consequence lost the prepossessing attractions of youth. Her dowry, however, was ample, a weighty recommendation with Sir Howard, who would not have delayed his proposals, but for the tantalizing alternative that from that moment he must relinquish the views he had formed relative to Rosilia. Thus tossed by contending feelings, and uncertain as to the result of his passion, he thought proper to open the state of his case to Mr. Melliphant, his constant associate, to ask his counsel and assistance as to the manner in which he might best proceed.
Melliphant, who was a physician by profession and practice, drily replied: "Think you my art extends to heal the distempers of the mind as well as those of the body? Nevertheless, introduce me to your flame, after which I shall be better enabled to aid ​you by my skill: let us feel our way, as we medical men feel the pulses of our patients."
In the hope of securing permanent eminence, possessing ability in his profession, Melliphant had, to an otherwise handsome establishment, added a carriage, and had also launched into expenses his practitional earnings were inadequate to support.
The constitution of Sir Howard not being sufficiently robust to enable him to combat with excess, Mr. Melliphant, from first attending him as his physician, became by degrees his inseparable companion,—perhaps chiefly arising from a similarity of taste and habits. Dissolute and vitiated alike, they confided in, and ever acted in mutual concert with each other's plans, according to the deep subtleties of their reasonings, which linked them together by some secret spell. But if, in the general estimate of their characters, a similitude might be found to prevail, nevertheless in other respects there was an essential difference.
Sir Howard invariably maintained the air and splendour of a man of gallantry and fashion; on the contrary, the other, plain and unassuming in his manners, never seemed to wish to raise himself above the level of his condition; and, though gifted with talent, sought no occasion for its display.
With the most eager assiduity Sir Howard ever courted the company of the ostentatious and affluent. Melliphant, attaching little value to riches, honours, or distinctions, preferred the company of his equals or ​even his inferiors in birth, if by so doing he could feel himself free to escape from the forms and punctilios which the high in station seem to exact as indispensable to their greatness.
Covetous of his possessions, Sir Howard never expended money but to advance his credit or pretensions. The other, prodigal and profuse, lavished even to the smallest mite he earned—to gratify a present wish or desire, he was wholly unmindful of the future. "Let us live to-day, for to-morrow we die!" was the thoughtless maxim by which he was swayed; and though dependent on the mere caprice of Fortune, the same patient endurance was ever his, appearing outwardly a Stoic, whilst in reality he was most truly an Epicurean. How enviable is the state of him who never allows himself to be either depressed by adversity, or elated by prosperity, arising as an effect of calm, profound, and philosophical contemplation; when the soul, acknowledging a Supreme Ruler of the universe, flies to rest itself on the bosom of that Glorious Being!
But alas! how different was it with Melliphant! that quiescent indifference he had acquired, proceeded from a soul blunt and callous to the events of life, and the sufferings of humanity! devoid of feeling for himself, he had none for others; sympathy and compassion were strangers to his heart. Accident, he believed, directed all things—whether good or ill fortune befell us, depended on the chance of a die; and what a folly, thought he, to place happiness upon ​an issue so precarious! A superintending Providence! he scoffed at the idea; it involved, in his opinion, the utmost absurdity. Religion he affirmed to be nothing more than a code of reasoning calculated to frighten children and awe the weak-minded.
When acting in concert with each other, the natural volatility of Sir Howard was moderated by the sly, designing circumspection of Melliphant. Sir Howard possessed ingenuity and cleverness, but his understanding was superficial, light, and frivolous; Melliphant united a vivid fancy to strong conceptions. The one was too deficient in depth of judgment to conceal his artifices; the other by the most consummate art could completely act the hypocrite.
Though it was the aim of Sir Howard ever to appear the polished gentleman, yet he was often betrayed into a littleness of thought, an illiberality, the offspring of narrow prejudice; whilst the other, in his apparent humility and disengagedness from the affairs of life, manifested at times an enlargement and comprehension of intellect unbounded.
Manifold was the superiority of Melliphant over Sir Howard, whose predominating foibles, to sum them up, evidently originated in an inordinate self-conceit.
In his frequent visits to the De Brookes, after the introduction to them of Melliphant, who usually accompanied him, when Rosilia, reflective as was her disposition, was involuntarily led to draw comparisons between them with respect to their general ​sentiments and manners, in proportion as Sir Howard lost, Melliphant gained upon, her estimation: the former, of powers and abilities far inferior to the latter, could not so effectually throw a gloss upon his principles, but that a slight remark, a passing jest, apparently unimportant, would betray to Rosilia that he did not pay to moral rectitude its due regard. His intimacy and friendship with her parents increasing, as authorizing a greater familiarity, the assiduity and adulations he lavished on her person and accomplishments became more conspicuous.
Melliphant, on the contrary,—the apparently worthy and accomplished Melliphant,—seemed ever influenced in his conduct towards her by the utmost respect and deference: noticing with keen penetration the bent of her disposition, he was soon led to discover that Sir Howard was acting against himself in those open manifestations he made of his passion; that, like that plant which, at the slightest touch, shrinks within itself, the more he approached, the more she withdrew,—her affections being to be won only by degrees, and that only through the medium of what she was pleased to denominate virtue!
Sir Howard had introduced him to the De Brookes with the view of profiting by his assistance and advice. As an abettor and coadjutor in his plots, no man might have proved of more signal use to him; nevertheless, in the present case, veiling himself and his view's from Sir Howard, he resolved to act for himself alone, to profit by the occasion, and turn ​the failure of Sir Howard to his own advantage. Difficult, indeed, and hazardous would be the task! but with such a prize in view, what a reward for perseverance! "What," thought he, "though Sir Howard is favoured by the parents, he is far from being so by the daughter, who conducts herself with such timid caution and reserve towards him, while her manners are free, easy, candid, and agreeable towards me, although but recently known to her."
Thus even more fascinated by her innocent confidence than her beauty, he resolved to keep over himself the strictest guard. The loss of her good opinion would ruin all. He must carefully avoid falling into the error of Sir Howard, or betraying the slightest mark of passion; he must bury his sentiments in the deepest folds of his heart. How delicate, how refined, he well knew must be the conduct of him who sought the affection of Rosilia.
But how acquire opportunities for the accomplishment of his wish? It was not by an occasional call, he could advance his interests; a thousand obstacles seemed to interpose themselves against him. Rosilia was never to be seen but in the presence of one or both of her parents, and he had no just pretensions by which he might offer himself a candidate for her hand: and not until a more confidential intimacy had arisen, by insinuating himself imperceptibly, could he allow himself to repose upon hopes, the bare thought of which filled his heart with tumults unutterable.
​ Thus plunged in the deepest meditation, Sir Howard burst suddenly upon him, holding in his hand a letter.
"I am come," said he, "to say farewell! I must depart immediately; I have no time to lose; my uncle is dead. This letter conveys the intelligence. It is written by my trusty friend, my uncle's steward; and unless I arrive in due time, it is supposed the executors will proceed in examining the will without me, and I have every right to expect I am nominated sole heir to all his property. The journey is a long one, but I must go; so farewell! I shall write to you from Northumberland, and inform you of the result. In the meantime visit the De Brookes for me; perhaps you will see them but once, ere they quit London for their residence in Wales. You know, dear Melliphant, I rely upon your steady friendship. An affair of the heart cannot be entrusted in better hands than yours, because of all men living you are the least likely to become my rival,—ever laughing at and despising those who suffer themselves to be entangled in the snares of love. Farewell, my dear fellow!"
With breathless haste, Sir Howard next proceeded to the De Brookes, where he staid but a few minutes, merely to bid his compliments of adieu; adding in obsequious accents, "that if upon his return, he did not find them in London, he should avail himself of a former permission granted him by the General to pay them a visit towards autumn in their country ​retirement;" so saying, he left them, less grieved in quitting London, the seat of every present pleasure and future hope and expectation, than he was delighted at the prospect of obtaining a sudden acquisition to his fortune.
Weary of London, the spring months having expired, General and Mrs. De Brooke had at length fully determined upon leaving it for the still and peaceful shades of the Bower, when their design was again interrupted by the unfortunate sudden illness of Mrs. De Brooke.
Perhaps nothing could have happened more consonant to the wishes of Melliphant; the prospect of carrying his views into execution relative to himself having entirely disappeared the moment their intended and unexpected departure had been announced to him in the farewell visit of Sir Howard. Now, called upon in his professional capacity to administer relief to the suffering mother of Rosilia, he inwardly rejoiced that such a circumstance would afford a positive sanction to his visits; while in his outward appearance he manifested a deep sense of the unhappiness it caused to Rosilia and her father.
Under the plausible excuse of paying unremitting attention to the case of the invalid, once or twice each day Melliphant was allowed the gratification, not only of seeing, but of conversing with the lovely Rosilia. Sometimes confined in the dark apartment, in watchful attendance at her mother's couch, he beheld her; and sometimes, when he visited that ​chamber of sickness, Rosilia, waiting in an ante-room, dreading, yet anxious to hear his opinions, no sooner heard his footsteps, than with precipitation she advanced to make her inquiries.
It was to Rosilia Melliphant gave the regulations necessary to be observed concerning regimen and prescriptions; when, upon such occasions, the absence of the General seldom failed to afford him a tête-à-tête with his daughter. Melliphant lost not those fortunate moments, as he considered them, to use every artifice he could suggest of rendering himself agreeable, and of showing himself in the fairest light.
By frequent experience, he had learned that, by a strict conformity with social converse, temperance of manner and well-supported logic, he could win upon the esteem of the unsuspicious and confiding. Humble, therefore, in his deportment, specious and insinuating in his address, he ever bore to Rosilia the semblance of one possessed of the strictest virtue. Learned without the parade of being so, by the perfect suavity of his manner he seemed ever more ready to receive information upon any subject, than capable of bestowing it; yet there were also times, when, from some urgent motive, his sentiments were delivered with clearness, force, and precision,—when, with true rhetorical skill, and with language the most persuasive, he could enter into the deepest intricacy of argument.
Sometimes, indeed, he could not altogether ​successfully veil the perverted bias of his intellect; but, whenever he thus inadvertently wandered into scepticism, if by so doing he lost ground with his adversary, he could skilfully adopt the other side of the question, in a manner so as to allow sensibility of feeling and goodness of heart so much to preponderate over his discourse, that the transient cloud of sophistry was either wholly unnoticed, or passed away in the admiration excited by the brilliant flashes of his fancy! Possessed of a memory the most retentive, it was not difficult for him to draw from the vast stores of intelligence he had treasured.
But when alone, and there was no longer occasion to have recourse to his memory, his thoughts sprung wholly from the innate bent of his depraved affections. Thus gifted with speech, how powerfully might he impose upon and blind the judgment! Under every flowing word, graceful utterance, and melodious accent, what defilement lay concealed!
Often in the conversations he held with Rosilia,—such as were calculated to encourage her confidence and flatter her understanding,—he designedly, but with the nicest caution, sought to infuse the poison of his pernicious sentiments; but more so, when his aim had been directed towards impressing her susceptible mind with ideas of the benevolence of his temper, unprejudiced opinions, and enlarged comprehension:—"Let us be guided by our feelings—they alone should influence us—the consciousness of what will best promote our pleasures, and fill with the ​greatest sense of enjoyment our narrow span of life."
Language such as this he little imagined was addressed to one, who, contrary to his maxims, had already, though so young, in opposition to the feelings and inclinations of her heart, rigidly adhered to the dictates of reason and duty. Shielded by innocence, unsuspicious of ill, the words of Melliphant lost their force, and left not the impression he desired.
As far as frail human nature could admit, to act up to the highest degree of virtue had been, and ever was, the constant aim of Rosilia. No inferior motive whatever had power to change or deter her from following the sublime track she had traced. Melliphant, so apparently amiable, of so contemplative a turn, capable of such strong powers of resistance, of self-denial, she supposed might be influenced by the same sentiments.
His late observations, however, had betrayed that he had formed to himself some incorrect theories of right, although she was still willing to persuade herself that he had never deviated from its practice.