It had long been the wish of his parent, that he should close his business in New-York, and settle himself on the paternal estate.]
An unusual degree of innocent amus.e.m.e.nt prevailed throughout the circle on this evening of general joy, and all were more or less enlivened and cheered by its salutary effects, except Mr. More, who, in the midst of music and mirth, remained sad and melancholy; despondent reflections at times deeply disturbed his tranquillity. In the midst of these scenes of festivity, he was serious and thoughtful; gloomy ideas would in spite of himself cloud his imagination, whenever his thoughts foreboded the fear of losing the only object of his affection.
The elderly gentlemen had a long consolatory conversation on the present affairs of the country, and their happy termination; the wisdom of the government and its coinciding regulations, concluding that the late peace, founded on principles of justice and honour, promised to be lasting.
These festive scenes of gladness were concluded by a variety of music, both vocal and instrumental; the powerful influence of which all must acknowledge; which is alike visible in all places, and in every stage of society. And while it flings its spell over the gay abodes of pleasure, it produces likewise its sweet enchantment in the domestic dwelling. The ladies alternately played the piano, while the gentlemen a.s.sisted in singing, forming altogether a concert of melodious harmony that wakened the mind to the softest raptures, and threw its bewitching influences over the imagination, calming all former corroding sensations, and animating anew all the soft and sympathetic emotions.
[_Mephistophiles in England_:
It flings its spell over the gay abodes of pleasure, and produces as sweet an enchantment in the dull dwellings of traffick.]
Music! wake thy heavenly numbers, Queen of every moving measure, When at thy voice all sorrow slumber, Sweetest source of purest pleasure!
[Joseph Warton: _Ode to Music_, lines 1-2:
Queen of every moving measure, Sweetest source of purest pleasure,]
Who listens to thy varying strains, Will find their bosoms gently sooth"d, Lulled to repose all cares and pains, And waked to sympathy and love,
That calms with soft persuasive air The heart to harmony and peace.
If any grief yet linger there, But touch thy chords and it will cease.
Who does not feel their bosoms glow, When the full choir their voices raise, To the Supreme of all below, Pour forth their song of ardent praise?
Each heart by sacred impulse driven, To high exalt his glorious name, Loud hallelujahs raise to heaven, And with one voice His praise proclaim.
Then music, queen of every art, O still thy matchless powers employ; Since none like thee can peace impart, And none like thee awaken joy.
[Ode to Music, lines 3-4:
Music! why thy powers employ Only for the sons of Joy?]
CHAPTER XXI.
"Tis true indeed, there"s danger in delay, Then let us speed, and hasten far away; For what of fear, or what of doubts molest, When deep affection reigns within the breast.
Several weeks now pa.s.sed away without any material occurrence, and the season of the year came round when the winter"s snow was pa.s.sing from the face of nature, succeeded by heavy showers of rain, and the days had become more pleasant, because they were something longer. The air was more salubrious, and invited the citizens to inhale its healthful draught without their dwellings, where they had been several months in a manner shut up from the inclemencies of the cold season.
One morning after the family had taken breakfast, they sat talking over late events and recent occurrences that had varied so materially within the last three months. In this conversation, they were unmindful of the hour, until Mr. Bolton, without ceremony, (as was his custom,) entered the breakfast parlour. After the usual salutations to her parents, and conversing some time with his aunt, he addressed Alida with his native pleasantry, relating to her some stories of the satirical order as the current news of the city. He afterwards informed her of the conversation between himself and her father, and in what manner the latter had replied. Alida remained silent, with her eyes fixed upon the floor, as if revolving in her mind what to say.
In the meantime, he did not await her reply, but entreated her in the most pathetic language to consent to elope with him, and at all events to unite her destiny with his; at the same time telling her that implicit obedience to a parent"s will, in an affair that so materially concerned her happiness, could not be expected, and that her father was much to blame in attempting to control her liberty of choice; saying, moreover, that after their views should be accomplished, that he had no doubt whatever of his reconciliation. He had lately received intelligence of the death of an uncle in Savannah, who had bequeathed to him his fortune. He was preparing for his departure thence. He would not, therefore, give up his former project, and thought to avail himself of this opportunity, (by all the rhetoric he was master of,) to urge Alida to accept him and accompany him on his journey. He even proposed whither they should escape from the eye of her father for the performance of the marriage ceremony.
[[This section is recycled from _A&M_, referring to the proposed elopement with Alonzo/Theodore. The pa.s.sage was previously cited verbatim.]]
Alida was truly shocked and surprised at a proposition so unexpected from Mr. Bolton, after he had known her father"s decision. She had never considered him in any other light than as a brother; and being a connexion in the family, they had always been on terms of friendly intercourse. She, therefore, would have avoided this meeting if she could have had previously an idea of the result.
[_Alida_ page 125 (chapter XV):
Alida was truly shocked and surprised at this unexpected visit from Bonville....]
After he had made to her these several propositions, her displeasure held her for some time silent, while it affected her mind sensibly.
Nevertheless, she endeavoured to recover herself to answer him in a decided, and, at the same time, in a manner compatible with her present feelings. She commenced urging him to endeavour to forget her in any other light than as a friend. "Can you suppose, Mr. Bolton," said she, "that I would set a parent"s will at defiance, by committing so unwary an action as to dispose of myself in a clandestine manner, nor could you again imagine that I would give my hand where my heart has no particular regard." She scarcely uttered this, and could say no more ere he conjured her not to shut her heart against him for ever, and entreated her to permit him still to hope that after a while her compa.s.sion might become awakened to the remembrance of a sincere, true, and constant heart, which would cause her to heave the sympathetic sigh for one who could never eradicate her from his memory, even for a moment, or chase from his bosom the esteem and love that time could neither weaken nor extinguish. He was extremely sorrowful in taking leave of Alida and the family, and set out the ensuing day on his journey.
Alida felt unhappy at the earnest importunities of a person she could not but have some esteem for. She could not fail to admire the superior powers of his mind. In his conversation, he was all that was agreeable, entertaining, and improving, which abounded with sallies of wit and humour, joined to a fund of erudition acquired by a collegiate education. He was particular to a.s.sociate only with young men of merit, talents, and genius. He possessed a native vein of satire, which he sometimes indulged with much effect; though, however, he had this dangerous weapon under such thorough discipline, that he rarely made use of it in a way which gave offence to any. He never acc.u.mulated any wealth by his own exertion, as he thought what he already inherited was more than sufficient for all his wants. He seemed not to seek for an abundance, like many others, as necessary to his happiness, thinking that, with contentment, the peasant is greater than the prince dest.i.tute of this benign blessing, and that a competency, rather than a superfluity, could convey real happiness to man. He thought, that to the improper pursuit after happiness could be attributed much of the misery of mankind; daily he saw dread examples of this serious truth, that many, in grasping at the shadow, had lost the substance. A near relative had now been bountiful to leave him a fortune. That, however, he was thankful for, as it increased his fund for charitable purposes. His intention was to get possession of this and return to the city of New-York, to make it his permanent residence.
[_Lives of Signers_: Walton of Georgia:
But he was attentive to merit; and towards young men of talents and genius he was respectful.... He possessed a native vein of satire, which he at times indulged with much effect. It is said of him, however, that he had this dangerous weapon under such thorough discipline, that he rarely indulged it in a way which gave offence to any.
Mr. Walton never acc.u.mulated wealth, as he seemed not to have sought for it, as necessary for his happiness.
[_NY Weekly_: Happiness:
Content const.i.tutes continual happiness; for with that sweet companion, the peasant is greater than a prince dest.i.tute of the benign blessing....
How few, even in any state, do we find happy? Alas! the number is by far too few. To the improper pursuit after happiness, can we only attribute the misery of mankind; daily, nay even hourly, do we see dread examples of this serious truth. But where is the eye that has not beheld, the mind that has not felt, or the heart that has not pitied, some object who has, in grasping at the shadow of happiness, lost the substance....]
CHAPTER XXII.
Behold the beauteous scene, to fill the mind with wonder and delight;--the varied land and water prospect;-- from whence the arm of Commerce sends her store, to nations far remote;-- adjacent to a city, that"s wealthy, large, and flourishing.
The genial warmth of the air had now animated anew the magnificence of nature"s works, and the verdant scenery of spring decked the landscape with all its resplendent colouring and variety. As the season advanced, all cla.s.ses of people had recourse to their favourite walk on the Battery, either for pleasure, or as an alleviation from the toils and cares of business. This healthy promenade drew together a number of the citizens in the morning, but many more resorted there in the evening, and a numerous throng here regaled themselves, and rested from the busy, bustling occupations of the day;--and at the same time were spectators of the most splendid scene imaginable. When the sun had gone down beneath a clear horizon, and the moon had risen in silent majesty, dispensing her light over the unruffled face of the Hudson, decorated with a numerous sail, representing an inimitable landscape, sublime and beautiful.
[_NY Weekly_: An Evening Meditation:
The moon ... arises in silent majesty .... the unruffled rivers....]
[same, unedited:
The moon borrows her light, and bestows it upon us; she arises in silent majesty, humbly waiting to reign when he resigns his throne.
No chorus ushers in his reign, no rays p.r.o.nounce her approach; gently she steals on the world, and sits in silent majesty to view the good she does. She lights the wandering traveller, she warms the earth with gentle heat, she dazzles not the eye of the philosopher, but invites him to view and to admire--How still is nature! not a breeze! each tree enjoys its shadow undisturbed, the unruffled rivers glide smoothly on reflecting nature"s face....]
Alida walked out one evening, and repaired thither, attended by Mr.
More. It was six o"clock when they reached the Battery, and a numerous concourse of people had already collected there. The mild rays of the setting sun were just visible above the horizon, and cast a soft l.u.s.tre over the adjacent landscape, when they entered Castle-Garden to contemplate more nearly the surrounding scenery.
They seated themselves here, while they discoursed on the beauties of nature, and the wonders of creation,--descanting on the goodness and bounty of that ineffable Being, from whom all our blessings flow;--the continual succession of so many various objects, to fill the mind with rapture and enthusiasm, and strike us with veneration and awe.
[_NY Weekly_: Essay No. I:
In man there is a natural love of change and variety: the mind is wearied by continual succession of similar objects, those pleasures, which at first were capable of inspiring emotions of delight; which once filled the heart with rapture and enthusiasm.... neither strike them with veneration nor with awe.]