Belmour: A Modern Edition

Chapter 39

✦ 298 ✦ Chapter 39 in the course of the following day, Dr. Stanmore informed Belmour of the particulars, which had passed since his absence , relative to Emily, and to Mr. Courtenay’s death. Not long after Belmour had left Dean Abbey, Dr. Stanmore had passed a few weeks there, and to him Emily had not disguised the oppression of her heart.—She knew, that her conduct would be approved by him; and that the rectitude of her intentions would be strengthened and supported by his counsel and advice .—She knew too, that he would shed a tear of pity and affection over her; and not harshly condemn a weakness, which, if she could not conquer, she had determined to suffer without reproach to herself: for such was the basis of that sound yet gentle philosophy, which he had taken for the guide of his own life; and was the approved maxim, which he had always forcibly inculcated into his pupil.—“From circumstances and events, my child,” he would say, “it is more than probable, thou hast much to labour through in life; nor would I, even were it in my power, steel thy tender susceptible heart against the sufferings of humanity—for can we lessen the woes of others, without partaking theirs? or can we hope otherwise to receive that alleviation of our own miseries, which sympathy alone can give! But,” he would continue, assuming a graver aspect, “although we cannot govern events, we can govern our own conduct—let us only remember, that the force of our passions is commonly proportioned to the force of our minds, and consequently, that those passions may be controlled.—Youth and inexperience, indeed, are often to be pitied for the errours, into which they may have been led, and from which the timely hand of friendly admonition might have saved them, by setting before their eyes that one great truth, that with a guiltless conscience all mental ✦ 299 ✦ sufferings become supportable. But it is the argument of lurking vice, when weakness is pleaded as an excuse for the little resistance, made to supposed uncontrollable passions.” To Mr. Courtenay, Emily’s manner was uniformly gentle and attentive; and she was studious, by every means in her power, to render the solitary life he had chosen, such as might best contribute to his comfort and satisfaction; but as he had made his opinion more from disgust for the world, than taste for retirement, and felt not that internal glow of content, which alone can give real charms to quiet, and seclusion from the busier scenes of life, even her judicious endeavours could not always ensure success. Sometimes, from slight causes, the violence of his temper would break out; and whenever that had been the case, discontented with himself, he became silent and sullen, and avoided even the sight of Emily. He would then often take long solitary rambles over his park, which, in its then neglected state, could only convey to his mind ideas of melancholy and regret; since to the follies and extravagance of his youth it owed its present desolate appearance. At other times, however, he found in the society of Emily, whose well-cultivated mind and improved talents rendered her a companion to her husband, that relief and advantage, of which his own sense and taste made him fully sensible.—Emily had, in addition, the satisfaction of knowing, that Mr. Courtenay did her justice, and that he felt that confidence in her character, which she so well deserved. When Belmour left England after his long illness in town, a paragraph appeared in the papers, mentioning his going, which ended in these words: “We know not positively the cause of this young nobleman’s going abroad, he having already twice made the grand tour; but we have reason to suppose, that a secret mission from our cabinet to Russia is the real object of his journey, in which case, his being personally well received at that court cannot be doubted.” ✦ 300 ✦ “Stuff!” cried Mr. Courtenay, who had just glanced over the newspaper, when his eye met this paragraph. “Yet,” said he, giving the paper to Emily, who was sitting near him on a bench on the terrace, “I doubt not, but that Lord Belmour may be gone abroad—it is a subject on which I will not trust myself— but you understand me—and let me, my Emily, take this opportunity , once...