Sybil, Or, The Two Nations
Egremont had recognized Sybil as she entered the garden. He was himselfcrossing the park to attend a committee of the House of Commons whichhad sat for the first time that morning. The meeting had been formal andbrief, the committee soon adjourned, and Egremont repaired to the spotwhere he was in the hope of still finding Sybil.
He approached her not without some restraint; with reserve and yet withtenderness. "This is a great, an unexpected pleasure indeed." he said ina faltering tone. She had looked up; the expression of an agitation, notdistressful, on her beautiful countenance could not be concealed. Shesmiled through a gushing vision: and with a flushed cheek, impelledperhaps by her native frankness, perhaps by some softer and irresistiblefeeling of gratitude, respect, regard, she said in a low voice, "I wasreading your beautiful speech."
"Indeed," said Egremont much moved, "that is an honour,--a pleasure,--areward, I never could have even hoped to have attained."
"By all," continued Sybil with more self-possession, "it must be readwith pleasure, with advantage, but by me--oh! with what deep interest."
"If anything that I said finds an echo in your breast," and here hehesitated, "--it will give me confidence for the future," he hurriedlyadded.
"Ah! why do not others feel like you!" said Sybil, "all would not thenbe hopeless."
"But you are not hopeless," said Egremont, and he seated himself on thebench, but at some distance from her.
Sybil shook her head.
"But when we spoke last," said Egremont, "you were full ofconfidence--in your cause, and in your means."
"It is not very long ago," said Sybil, "since we thus spoke, and yettime in the interval has taught me some bitter truths."
"Truth is very precious," said Egremont, "to us all; and yet I fear Icould not sufficiently appreciate the cause that deprived you of yoursanguine faith."
"Alas!" said Sybil mournfully, "I was but a dreamer of dreams: I wakefrom my hallucination as others have done I suppose before me. Like themtoo I feel the glory of life has gone; but my content at least," and shebent her head meekly, "has never rested I hope too much on this world."
"You are depressed, dear Sybil?"
"I am unhappy. I am anxious about my father. I fear that he issurrounded by men unworthy of his confidence. These scenes of violencealarm me. Under any circumstances I should shrink from them, but Iam impressed with the conviction that they can bring us nothing butdisaster and disgrace."
"I honor your father," said Egremont, "I know no man whose character Iesteem so truly noble; such a just compound of intelligence and courage,and gentle and generous impulse. I should deeply grieve were he tocompromise himself. But you have influence over him, the greatest, asyou have over all. Counsel him to return to Mowbray."
"Can I give counsel?" said Sybil, "I who have been wrong in all myjudgments? I came up to this city with him, to be his guide, hisguardian. What arrogance! What short-sighted pride! I thought the Peopleall felt as I feel; that I had nothing to do but to sustain and animatehim; to encourage him when he flagged, to uphold him when he wavered. Ithought that moral power must govern the world, and that moral powerwas embodied in an assembly whose annals will be a series of pettyintrigues, or, what is worse, of violent machinations."
"Exert every energy," said Egremont, "that your father should leaveLondon, immediately; to-morrow, to-night if possible. After thisbusiness at Birmingham, the government must act. I hear that theywill immediately increase the army and the police; and that there isa circular from the Secretary of State to the Lords Lieutenant ofcounties. But the government will strike at the Convention. The memberswho remain will be the victims. If your father return to Mowbray and bequiet, he has a chance of not being disturbed."
"An ignoble end of many lofty hopes," said Sybil.
"Let us retain our hopes," said Egremont, "and cherish them."
"I have none," she replied.
"And I am sanguine," said Egremont.
"Ah! because you have made a beautiful speech. But they will listen toyou, they will cheer you, but they will never follow you. The doveand the eagle will not mate; the lion and the lamb will not lie downtogether; and the conquerors will never rescue the conquered."
Egremont shook his head. "You still will cherish these phantoms, dearSybil! and why? They are not visions of delight. Believe me they are asvain as they are distressing. The mind of England is the mind ever ofthe rising race. Trust me it is with the People. And not the lessso, because this feeling is one of which even in a great degree it isunconscious. Those opinions which you have been educated to dread andmistrust are opinions that are dying away. Predominant opinions aregenerally the opinions of the generation that is vanishing. Let anaccident, which speculation could not foresee, the balanced state atthis moment of parliamentary parties cease, and in a few years, more orless, cease it must, and you will witness a development of the new mindof England, which will make up by its rapid progress for its retardedaction. I live among these men; I know their inmost souls; I watch theirinstincts and their impulses; I know the principles which they haveimbibed, and I know, however hindered by circumstances for the moment,those principles must bear their fruit. It will be a produce hostile tothe oligarchical system. The future principle of English politics willnot be a levelling principle; not a principle adverse to privileges, butfavourable to their extension. It will seek to ensure equality, not bylevelling the Few but by elevating the Many."
Indulging for some little time in the mutual reflections, which the toneof the conversation suggested, Sybil at length rose, and saying thatshe hoped by this time her father might have returned, bade farewell toEgremont, but he also rising would for a time accompany her. At the gateof the gardens however she paused, and said with a soft sad smile, "Herewe must part," and extended to him her hand.
"Heaven will guard over you!" said Egremont, "for you are a celestialcharge."
Book 5 Chapter 3