CHAPTER XLII

CONCLUSION

Lord Anophel one morning paid Anthelia his usual visit. ‘You must be aware, Miss Melincourt,’ said he, ‘that if your friends could have found you out, they would have done it before this; but they have searched the whole country far and near, and have now gone home in despair.’

_Anthelia._ That, my Lord, I cannot believe; for there is one, at least, who I am confident will never be weary of seeking me, and who, I am equally confident, will not always seek in vain.

_Lord Anophel Achthar._ If you mean the young lunatic of Redrose Abbey, or his friend the dumb Baronet, they are both gone to London to attend the opening of the Honourable House; and if you doubt my word, I will show you their names in the _Morning Post_, among the Fashionable Arrivals at Wildman’s Hotel.

_Anthelia._ Your Lordship’s word is quite as good as the authority you have quoted.

_Lord Anophel Achthar._ Well, then, Miss Melincourt, I presume you perceive that you are completely in my power, and that I have gone too far to recede. If, indeed, I had supposed myself an object of such very great repugnance to you, which I must say (_looking at himself in a glass_) is quite unaccountable, I might not, perhaps, have laid this little scheme, which I thought would be only settling the affair in a compendious way; for that any woman in England would consider it a very great hardship to be Lady Achthar, and hereafter Marchioness of Agaric, and would feel any very mortal resentment for means that tended to make her so, was an idea, egad, that never entered my head. However, as I have already observed, you are completely in my power: both our characters are compromised, and there is only one way to mend the matter, which is to call in Grovelgrub, and make him strike up ‘Dearly beloved.’

_Anthelia._ As to your character, Lord Anophel, that must be your concern. Mine is in my own keeping; for, having practised all my life a system of uniform sincerity, which gives me a right to be believed by all who know me, and more especially by all who love me, I am perfectly indifferent to private malice or public misrepresentation.

_Lord Anophel Achthar._ There is such a thing, Miss Melincourt, as tiring out a man’s patience; and, ‘pon honour, if gentle means don’t succeed with you, I must have recourse to rough ones, ‘pon honour.

_Anthelia._ My Lord!

_Lord Anophel Achthar._ I am serious, curse me. You will be glad enough to hush all up, then, and we’ll go to court together in due form.

_Anthelia._ What you mean by hushing up, Lord Anophel, I know not: but of this be assured, that under no circumstances will I ever be your wife; and that whatever happens to me in any time or place, shall be known to all who are interested in my welfare. I know too well the difference between the true quality of a pure and simple mind and the false affected modesty which goes by that name in the world, to be intimidated by threats which can only be dictated by a supposition that your wickedness would be my disgrace, and that false shame would induce me to conceal what both truth and justice would command me to make known.

Lord Anophel stood aghast for a few minutes, at the declaration of such unfashionable sentiments. At length saying, ‘Ay, preaching is one thing, and practice another, as Grovelgrub can testify,’ he seized her hand with violence, and threw his arm round her waist. Anthelia screamed, and at that very moment a violent noise of ascending steps was heard on the stairs; the door was burst open, and Sir Oran Haut-ton appeared in the aperture, with the Reverend Mr. Grovelgrub in custody, whom he dragged into the apartment, followed by Mr. Forester and Mr. Fax. Mr. Forester flew to Anthelia, who threw herself into his arms, hid her face in his bosom, and burst into tears: which when Sir Oran saw, his wrath grew boundless, and quitting his hold of the Rev. Mr. Grovelgrub (who immediately ran downstairs, and out of the castle, as fast as a pair of short thick legs could carry him), seized on Lord Anophel Achthar, and was preparing to administer natural justice by throwing him out at the window; but Mr. Fax interposed, and calling Mr. Forester’s attention, which was totally engaged with Anthelia, they succeeded in rescuing the terrified sprig of nobility; who immediately, leaving the enemy in free possession, flew downstairs after his reverend tutor; whom, on issuing from the castle, he discovered at an immense distance on the sands, still running with all his might. Lord Anophel gave him chase, and after a long time came within hail of him, and shouted to him to stop. But this only served to quicken the reverend gentleman’s speed; who, hearing the voice of pursuit, and too much terrified to look back, concluded that the dumb Baronet had found his voice, and was then in the very act of gaining on his flight. Therefore, the more Lord Anophel shouted ‘Stop!’ the more nimbly the reverend gentleman sped along the sands, running and roaring all the way, like Falstaff on Gadshill; his Lordship still exerting all his powers of speed in the rear, and gaining on his flying Mentor by very imperceptible gradations: where we shall leave them to run _ad libitum_, while we account for the sudden appearance of Mr. Forester and his friends.

We left them walking along the shore of the sea, which they followed till they arrived in the vicinity of Alga Castle, from which the Reverend Mr. Grovelgrub emerged in evil hour, to take a meditative walk on the sands. The keen sight of the natural man descried him from far. Sir Oran darted on his prey; and though it is supposed that he could not have overtaken the swift-footed Achilles,[133] he had very little difficulty in overtaking the Reverend Mr. Grovelgrub, who had begun to run for his life as soon as he was aware of the foe. Sir Oran shook his stick over his head, and the reverend gentleman dropping on his knees, put his hands together, and entreated for mercy, saying ‘he would confess all.’ Mr. Forester and Mr. Fax came up in time to hear the proposal: the former restrained the rage of Sir Oran, who, however, still held his prisoner fast by the arm; and the reluctant divine, with many a heavy groan, conducted his unwelcome company to the door of Anthelia’s apartments.

‘O Forester!’ said Anthelia, ‘you have realised all my wishes. I have found you the friend of the poor, the enthusiast of truth, the disinterested cultivator of the rural virtues, the active promoter of the cause of human liberty. It only remained that you should emancipate a captive damsel, who, however, will but change the mode of her durance, and become your captive for life.’

It was not long after this event, before the Reverend Mr. Portpipe and the old chapel of Melincourt Castle were put in requisition, to make a mystical unit of Anthelia and Mr. Forester. The day was celebrated with great festivity throughout their respective estates, and the Reverend Mr. Portpipe was _voti compos_, that is to say, he had taken a resolution on the day of Anthelia’s christening, that he would on the day of her marriage drink one bottle more than he had ever taken at one sitting on any other occasion; which resolution he had now the satisfaction of carrying into effect.

Sir Oran Haut-ton continued to reside with Mr. Forester and Anthelia. They discovered in the progress of time that he had formed for the latter the same kind of reverential attachment as the Satyr in Fletcher forms for the Holy Shepherdess:[134] and Anthelia might have said to him in the words of Corin:

They wrong thee that do call thee rude: Though thou be’st outward rough and tawny-hued, Thy manners are as gentle and as fair As his who boasts himself born only heir To all humanity.

His greatest happiness was in listening to the music of her harp and voice: in the absence of which he solaced himself, as usual, with his flute and French horn. He became likewise a proficient in drawing; but what progress he made in the art of speech we have not been able to ascertain.

Mr. Fax was a frequent visitor at Melincourt, and there was always a cover at the table for the Reverend Mr. Portpipe.

Mr. Hippy felt half inclined to make proposals to Miss Evergreen; but understanding from Mr. Forester that, from the death of her lover in early youth, that lady had irrevocably determined on a single life,[135] he comforted himself with passing half his time at Melincourt Castle, and dancing the little Foresters on his knee, whom he taught to call him ‘grandpapa Hippy,’ and seemed extremely proud of the imaginary relationship.

Mr. Forester disposed of Redrose Abbey to Sir Telegraph Paxarett, who, after wearing the willow twelve months, married, left off driving, and became a very respectable specimen of an English country gentleman.

We must not conclude without informing those among our tender-hearted readers who would be much grieved if Miss Danaretta Contantina Pinmoney should have been disappointed in her principal object of making a _good match_, that she had at length the satisfaction, through the skilful management of her mother, of making the happiest of men of Lord Anophel Achthar.

THE END

_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.

Footnote 1:

The following is the motto of the title-page of the first edition:—‘Nous nous moquons des Paladins! quand ces maximes romanesques commencèrent à devenir ridicules, ce changement fut moins l’ouvrage de la raison que celui des mauvaises mœurs.’—ROUSSEAU.

Footnote 2:

Written in 1817.—Published in 1818.

Footnote 3:

Hor. Epist. I. ii. 27–30.

Footnote 4:

Junius.

Footnote 5:

For Lucy Gray and Alice Fell, see Mr. Wordsworth’s Lyrical Ballads.

Footnote 6:

Coleridge’s ‘Friend.’

Footnote 7:

‘There is not any burden that some would gladlier post off to another than the charge and care of their religion. There be of Protestants and professors who live and die in as arrant and implicit faith as any lay Papist of Loretto. A wealthy man, addicted to his pleasure and to his profits, finds religion to be a traffic so entangled and of so many peddling accounts, that, of all mysteries, he cannot skill to keep a stock going upon that trade. What should he do? Fain would he have the name to be religious: fain would he bear up with his neighbours in that. What does he, therefore, but resolves to give over toiling, and to find himself out some factor, to whose care and credit he may commit the whole management of his religious affairs; some divine of note and estimation that must be. To him he adheres, resigns the whole warehouse of his religion, with all the locks and keys, into his custody, and, indeed, makes the very person of that man his religion, esteems his associating with him a sufficient evidence and commendatory of his own piety. So that a man may say, his religion is now no more within himself, but is become a dividual movable, and goes and comes near him according as that good man frequents the house. He entertains him, gives him gifts, feasts him, lodges him: his religion comes home at night, prays, is liberally supped, and sumptuously laid to sleep, rises, is saluted, and after the malmsey, or some well-spiced brewage, and better breakfasted than he whose morning appetite would have gladly fed on green figs between Bethany and Jerusalem, his religion walks abroad at eight, and leaves his kind entertainer in the shop, trading all day without his religion.’—MILTON’S _Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing_.

Footnote 8:

‘I think I have established his humanity by proof that ought to satisfy every one who gives credit to human testimony.’—_Ancient Metaphysics_, vol. iii. p. 40.

‘I have brought myself to a perfect conviction that the oran outang is a human creature as much as any of us.’—_Ibid._

‘Nihil humani ei deesse diceres praeter loquelam.’—BONTIUS.

‘The fact truly is, that the man is easily distinguishable in him; nor are there any differences betwixt him and us, but what may be accounted for in so satisfactory a manner that it would be extraordinary and unnatural if they were not to be found. His body, which is of the same shape as ours, is bigger and stronger than ours, ... according to that general law of nature above observed (_that all animals thrive best in their natural state_). His mind is such as that of a man must be, uncultivated by arts and sciences, and living wild in the woods.... One thing, at least, is certain: that if ever men were in that state which I call natural, it must have been in such a country and climate as Africa, where they could live without art upon the natural fruits of the earth. “Such countries,” Linnaeus says, “are the native country of man; there he lives naturally; in other countries, _non nisi coacte_, that is, by force of art.” If this be so, then the short history of man is, that the race, having begun in those fine climates, and having, as is natural, multiplied there so much that the spontaneous productions of the earth could not support them, they migrated into other countries, where they were obliged to invent arts for their subsistence; and with such arts, language, in process of time, would necessarily come.... That my facts and arguments are so convincing as to leave no doubt of the humanity of the oran outang, I will not take upon me to say; but thus much I will venture to affirm, that I have said enough to make the philosopher consider it as problematical, and a subject deserving to be inquired into. _For, as to the vulgar, I can never expect that they should acknowledge any relation to those inhabitants of the woods of Angola_; but that they should continue, through a false pride, to think highly derogatory from human nature what the philosopher, on the contrary, will think the greatest praise of man, that from the savage state in which the oran outang is, he should, by his own sagacity and industry, have arrived at the state in which we now see him.’—_Origin and Progress of Language_, book ii. chap. 5.

Footnote 9:

‘L’Oran Outang, ou l’homme des bois, est un être particulier à la zone torride de notre hémisphère: le Pline de la nation qui l’a rangé dans la classe de singes ne me paroît pas conséquent; car il résulte des principaux traits de sa description que c’est un homme dégénère.’—_Philosophie de la Nature._

Footnote 10:

‘The dispositions and affections of his mind are mild, gentle, and humane.’—_Origin and Progress of Language_, book ii. chap. 4.

‘The oran outang whom Buffon himself saw was of a sweet temper.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 11:

‘But though I hold the oran outang to be of our species, it must not be supposed that I think the monkey or ape, with or without a tail, participates of our nature: on the contrary, I maintain that, however much his form may resemble man’s, yet he is, as Linnaeus says, of the Troglodyte, _nec nostri generis nec sanguinis_. For as the mind, or internal principle, is the chief part of every animal, it is by it principally that the ancients have distinguished the several species. Now it is laid down by Mr. Buffon, and I believe it to be a fact that cannot be contested, that neither monkey, ape, nor baboon, have anything mild or gentle, tractable or docile, benevolent or humane in their dispositions; but, on the contrary, are malicious and untractable, to be governed only by force and fear, and without any _gravity or composure in their gait or behaviour, such as the oran outang has_.’—_Origin and Progress of Language_, book ii. chap. 4.

Footnote 12:

‘He is capable of the greatest affection, not only to his brother oran outangs, but to such among us as use him kindly. And it is a fact well attested to me by a gentleman who was an eye-witness of it, that an oran outang on board his ship conceived such an affection for the cook, that when upon some occasion he left the ship to go ashore, the gentleman saw the oran outang shed tears in great abundance.’—_Ibid._