University of Virginia Library

15. CHAPTER XV.
CHURCH AND STATE.

Edward Ainslie had finished his studies at the
University, where he had so distinguished himself
as to afford the most favourable anticipations of his
future success. He was in some doubt as to the
profession which he should embrace. Inclination
prompted him to devote himself to the church. His
father was anxious that he should become a political
character; probably being somewhat influenced by

an offer, which he had had from one of the ministry,
of a diplomatic appointment for his son.

This interesting subject was under consideration
at the very time when the events, which we have
just been recording, transpired. Edward had returned
to London after witnessing the perfect recovery
of Lucy, and the discussions concerning his future
career were renewed with considerable interest.

On the evening after his return, he was sitting in
the parlour of his father's splendid mansion. All
the family except his father and himself had retired.
They lingered a few moments to confer on the old
subject.

“Well, Edward,” said his father, “I hope you
are ready now to oblige our friends in a certain
quarter, and strengthen the hands of government.”

“Indeed, sir, my late visit to the country, has
served rather to increase my predilection for the life
of a country parson.”

“My Lord Courtly says it is a thousand pities
your talents should be so thrown away; and though
I should not regard the thing in that light, yet
I think that your country has some claims upon
you. Let the livings of the church be given to the
thousands who are unfit for, or unable to attain the
promotion that is offered to you. If you accept a
living, it is ten to one you disappoint some equally
worthy expectant.”

“Perhaps I shall do the same if I accept this
diplomatic appointment.”

“Little danger of that, I fancy, when the appointment
is so freely offered you—when in fact you are

solicited to accept it. Let me tell you, Edward, you
know not how splendid a career you may be refusing
to enter upon.”

“I fear, my dear father, that you have not duly
considered the cares and anxieties, of political life.
It is a constant turmoil and struggle for distinction.
All the sterner feelings of our nature are brought
into action. All the generous emotions and amiable
weaknesses of humanity are regarded as fatal to one's
success. A blunder in state affairs is considered
worse than a crime.”

“I think there is no profession,” said the Baronet,
“in which a crime is not more fatal to success,
in the long run, than a blunder. However, we are
wandering from the subject. In one word, Edward,
I think that you may carry all your strict moral
principles and your high and generous sense of
honour into public life, without in the least endangering
your success.”

“What you say may be strictly true, sir, but I
have feelings and partialities which cannot fail to
prove a hindrance. I shall sigh for seclusion and
domestic enjoyment amidst the splendour of foreign
courts, and never pen a dispatch to be sent to old
England, without longing to see its fair prospects of
green fields and smiling cottages. I love to converse
with nature in her still retreats and if I must
mingle with my fellow men, let it not be in the vain
strife for power and distinction; but rather in the
delightful intercourse of social life, or in the more
interesting relation of one who cares for their eternal
welfare. If I were rich, the character I should most

wish to figure in, would be that of a useful, benevolent
and religious country gentleman, as the advice
and instruction, which I could thus impart, would not
arise simply from official duty and might be rendered
doubly efficient by acts of benevolence. Since that
may not be, I am content with the humbler office of
a country parson.”

At this period of the conversation a servent entered
with a letter directed to the Baronet, saying that
it had been brought by an express. He opened it
and hastily running it over, exclaimed,

“Well, my boy, you can have your wish now.
See there!” handing him the open letter.

It was from the executor of a distant relation who
had taken a fancy to Edward in his childhood, and
had now bequeathed him the whole of his large
estate, situated in the North of England.

Astonishment and gratitude to the Divine Disposer
of events were visible in the countenance of
the youth as he silently lifted up his eyes in thanksgiving.

After a few minutes pause, his father said, “Well,
you will visit your property immediately, of course?”

“Yes sir; but I wish to visit Hampshire for a few
days before I set off for the North.” And so saying,
he bade his father good night and retired.