Part 63 (2/2)
A. Nolo Episcopari.
B. It's an ill wind that blows n.o.body good.
D. The old trick; picking one text, straining it; and ignoring six. So then n.o.body who is not born married, must get married.
E. Recipe. To know people's real estimate of themselves, study their language of self-depreciation. If, even when they undertake to lower themselves, they cannot help insinuating self-praise, be sure their humility is a puddle, their vanity is a well. This sentence is typical of the whole Diary or rather Iary; it sounds Publican, smells Pharisee.
X. How potent a thing is language in the hand of a master: Here is sudden death made humorous by a few incongruous phrases neatly disposed.
F. Excuse me; there is still a little market for the Liquefaction of Holy Writ, and the perversion of Holy Writ; two deathless arts, which meet in your comment on the song you ascribe to Solomon.
Z. More than Mrs. Plummer does, apparently.
G. Apotheosis of the British public. How very like profaneness some people's piety is!
C. H. Faith, with this school, means anything the opposite of Charity.
I. You are morally truthful: but intellectually mendacious. The texts on Solomon's Song! You know very well there is not one. No grave writer in all Scripture has ever deigned to cite, or notice, that coa.r.s.e composition; puellarum deliciae.
J. Modest periphrasis for ”I like it.” Motto for this Diary; ”Ego, et Deus meus.”
K. In other words, a good, old-fas.h.i.+oned, sober, humble Christian, to whom the daring familiarities of your school seem blasphemies.
M. Here I recognise my sister; somewhat spoiled by a detestable sect; but lovable by nature (which she is for ever abusing); and therefore always amiable, when off her guard.
_”March 28th._--Mr. Crawford the attorney called and told papa his son had instructed him to examine the trust-deed, and to draw his marriage settlement. Papa treated him with the greatest civility, and brought him the deed. He wanted to take it away to copy; but papa said he had better send a clerk here. Poor papa hid his distress from this gentleman, though not from me; and gave him a gla.s.s of wine.
”Then Mr. Crawford chatted, and let out Alfred had asked him to advance a hundred pounds for the wedding presents, &c. Papa said he might do so with perfect safety.
”But the moment he was gone, his whole manner changed. He walked about in terrible anger and agitation: and then sat down and wrote letters; one was to uncle Thomas; and one to a Mr. Wycherley; I believe a brother of the doctor's. I never knew him so long writing two letters before.
”Heard a noise in the road, and it was Mr. Maxley, and the boys after him hooting; they have found out his infirmity: what a savage animal is man, till grace changes him! The poor soul had a stick, and now and then turned and struck at them but his tormentors were too nimble. I drew papa to the window, and showed him, and reminded him of the poor man's request. He answered impatiently what was that to him? 'We have a worse case nearer hand. Charity begins at home.' I ventured to say yes, but it did not begin _and_ end at home.”
_”March 31st._--Mr. Osmond here to-day; and over my work I heard papa tell him Alfred is blackening his character in the town with some impossible story about fourteen thousand pounds. Mr. Osmond very kind and sympathising; set it all down to illusion; a.s.sured papa there was neither malice nor insincerity in it. 'But what the better am I for that?' said poor papa; 'if I am slandered, I am slandered.' And they went out together.
”Papa seems to feel this engagement more than all his troubles, and, knowing by sad experience it is useless to expostulate with Alfred, I wrote a long and faithful letter to Julia just before luncheon, putting it to her as a Christian whether she could reconcile it to her profession to set a son against his father, and marry him in open defiance.
”She replied, 3 P. M., that her mother approved the marriage, and she owed no obedience, nor affection either, to _my_ parent.
”3.30. Sent back a line rebuking her for this quibble.
”At 5 received a note from Mrs. Dodd proposing that the correspondence between myself and her daughter should cease _for the present._
”5.30. Retorted with an amendment that it should cease _for ever._ No reply. Such are worldlings! Remonstrance only galls them. And so in one afternoon's correspondence ends one more of my Christian friends.h.i.+ps with persons of my own s.e.x. This is the eighth to which a carnal attachment has been speedily fatal.
”In the evening Alfred came in looking very red, and asked me whether it was not self-reliant and uncharitable of me to condemn so many estimable persons, all better acquainted with the circ.u.mstances than I am. I replied with the fifth commandment. He bit his lip and said, 'We had better not meet again, until you have found out which is worthiest of honour, your father or your brother.' And with this he left abruptly; and something tells me I shall not see him again. My faithfulness has wounded him to the quick. Alas! Prayed for him and cried myself to sleep.”
_”April 4th._ Met _him_ disguised as a common workman, and carrying a sack full of things. I was so shocked I could not maintain my resolution: I said, 'Oh, Mr. Edward, what are you doing?' He blushed a little, but told me he was going to sell some candlesticks and things of his making: and he should get a better price in that dress; all traders looked on a _gentleman_ as a thing made to be pillaged. Then he told me he was going to turn them into a bonnet and a wreath; and his beautiful brown eyes sparkled with affection. What egotistical creatures _they_ must be! I was quite overcome, and said, Oh why did he refuse our offer?
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