Henry Smeaton: A Jacobite Story of the Reign of George the First. — John Shaqi
Henry Smeaton: A Jacobite Story of the Reign of George the First.James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
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Henry Smeaton: A Jacobite Story of the Reign of George the First.
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Jacobite Rebellion, 1715 -- Fiction
and nobler principles for support under my affliction than the mere
stern sense of being wronged! how he soothed my irritation, and won me
away from my sorrows! My young friend, it is not to be forgotten, and
if there was bitterness in the cup pressed hard to my boyish lips,
there was sweetness to be remembered too. 'Tis well nigh thirty years
ago. I think--perhaps more, for your father married very early--and I
have never seen him since; but I forget not one lineament of his face,
one tone of his voice, one expression of his countenance, and you are
very like him."
As he spoke, the Earl extended his hand to Smeaton, and then added,
"You now can see the causes of the interest I take in your fate. That
interest will never diminish, and will always be active in your
favour, whenever my duty to the land of my birth and the sovereign
whom I serve will give it scope. I am obliged to make this
reservation; for it is a rule that I have always acted upon, to suffer
no personal feeling whatever to interfere with my actions as a public
man. But I trust to your own good sense, to your own good feeling, to
preserve you from any position in which your interests would be
opposed to my duties."
Smeaton replied not to the Earl's last words, but inquired, in a tone
of real feeling,
"How did this sad story end?"
"Perhaps to my advantage," replied Lord Stair. "I recovered my
calmness and composure of mind; never my light gaiety of heart. My own
conscience acquitted me of any fault but boyish indiscretion; though
the memory of having taken a brother's life remained as a dark cloud
shading the too fervid heat of youth. I applied myself to intense
study. I learned to think when others are dreaming. I sought
abstraction from myself in the study of other men. I acquired in
boyhood the mind of a man. The stream might be small, indeed, for it
was not yet flooded by experience; but it was diverted from its
natural channel by the rocks and precipices which surrounded it. At
length, representations from my good tutor of the forced progress I
had made, his overpraise of my character, disposition, and abilities,
and his mild Christian expostulations against the injustice that was
shown me, had their effect; and, at the end of several years, I was
called back to my family. I returned with a feeling of dread and
anxiety, which was not without cause; for, though I was nominally
forgiven, I could see in all faces, I could hear in all tones, that
what I had done was not forgotten--that a chilling memory existed of
that dark accident, which extinguished all warm affection towards me.
An opportunity of escape from such an icy dwelling soon presented
itself, and I gladly seized it, by entering the army. Life was of
little value to me--less so than to most of my companions; my previous
studies gave me some advantages over them; and I became what I now am,
succeeding to my father's honours and estates, on his sudden and
somewhat mysterious death years ago.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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