George Bethune

“ Bethune speak of Cadzow as belonging to his family; and he had to confess that he could not find Craig-Royston in the index of his father's guide-book. And yet he could not give up this magnificent, this heroic old man all at once. He could not believe him to be a mean and crafty trickster. Surely his love for Scotland was sincere. Surely his passionate admiration of the old Scotch ballads was genuine enough. Surely it was not to impose on any one that old George Bethune sang aloud the songs of his youth as he walked through the crowded streets of London. ”

“ Now, why doesn't old George Bethune go away back there; and wave his tartan plaid, and stamp, and howl balderdash, and have monuments put up to him as the White-haired Bard of Glen-Toddy? That surely would be better than hawking bogus books about London and getting subscriptions for things that never appear; though he manages to do pretty well. Oh, yes, he does pretty well, one way and another. The cunning old cockroach—to take that girl around with him, and get her to make eyes at tradesmen, so as to swindle them out of pounds of tea! ”

“ What if he talked with too lofty an air of birth and lineage, or allowed his enthusiasm about Scotland and Scottish song to lead him into the realms of rodomontade: may not an old man have his harmless foibles? Any one who had witnessed Maisrie's devotion to her grandfather, her gentle forbearance and consideration, her skilful humouring of him, and her never-failing faith in him, must have got to know what kind of man was old George Bethune.
And yet, when Vincent turned to the letter, it seemed terribly simple, and straightforward, and sincere. ”

“ If George Bethune is willing to take a cheque from Lord Musselburgh—if he can do so without the slightest loss of self-respect or dignity—why should not his lordship be allowed to help a brother Scot? Why should you interfere?"
"It was for Maisrie's sake," said Vincent, looking down.
"Ah, yes, yes," the banker said, knitting his brows. "That is where the trouble comes in. I shouldn't mind letting George Bethune go his own way; he is all right; his self-sufficiency will carry him through anything: but for a sensitive girl like that it must be terrible. ”

“ Perhaps the stranger over there did not know the ballad; but George Bethune knew it only too well; and his voice almost broke into a sob as he said, when she had finished—
"Ah, Maisrie, it was no music-master taught you that; it was born in your nature. Sometimes I wonder if a capacity for intense sympathy means an equal capacity for suffering; it is sad if it should be so; a thick skin would be wholesomer—as far as I have seen the world; and few have seen more of it. Well, what has our neighbour to say?" ”

“ The neist we never saw.'——"
"That was a favourite quotation of old George Bethune's," said the elder MacVittie, with a smile, to Vincent.
The young man was startled out of a reverie. It was so strange for him to sit and hear conversation like this, and to imagine that George Bethune had joined in it, and no doubt led it, in former days, and that perhaps Maisrie had been permitted to listen.
"Yes," he made answer, modestly; "and no man ever carried the spirit of it more completely into his daily life."
"What makes ye think he is in New York, or in the United States, at least?" ”

“ Hobson," said Mr. Bethune with a smile, "all men are equal. I have been much interested in some of your husband's writings."
"Oh, sir, don't put sich things in his 'ead!" she said, as she proceeded to lay the cloth for dinner. "He's a fool, and that's bad enough; but if so be as you put things in his 'ead, and he giving of hisself airs, it'll be hawful! What good he is to anybody, I don't know. He won't clean a winder or black a boot even."
"How can you expect it?" George Bethune said, in perfect good humour. "Manual labour would be a degradation. ”

“ Thompson's generous interpretation of it ran through it all. Lord Musselburgh listened with the greatest interest and attention. What seemed mostly to strike him was the banker's phrase—'Call George Bethune an impostor, if you like; but the man he has imposed on, his whole life through, has been—George Bethune.'
"Well, it's all very extraordinary," he said, when Vincent had finished. "I wish I had taken the trouble to become a little better acquainted with him; one is so apt to judge by the outside; I thought he was merely a picturesque old fellow with a mad enthusiasm about Scotland. ”

“ His long and swinging stride soon carried him to the house in German Place, where he found George Bethune and his granddaughter just making ready to come out.
"This will not do, Maisrie," said old George Bethune, in his gay, emphatic fashion. "Too much idleness. Too much idleness. Fresh air is all very well; but we must not become its slaves. Remember Horace's warning. 'Tu, nisi ventis debes ludibrium, cave.'"
"Why, who could keep at work on a morning like this!" Vincent protested. "A west wind and brilliant sunlight are not so common in December. ”

“ Harris, as one who may have a closer relationship with these two—you must remember this, that to himself George Bethune's conscience is as clear as that of a one-year-old child. Do you think he sees anything shady or unsatisfactory in these little transactions or forgetfulnesses of his? He is careless of money because he despises it. If he had any, and you wanted it, it would be yours."
"I know that," said Vincent, eagerly; and he told the story of their meeting the poor woman in Hyde Park.
"Take that string of charges you spoke of," the banker resumed. ”

“ It is just as Mr. Thompson said: if you choose to look at George Bethune through blue spectacles, his way of life must appear very doubtful: if you choose to look at him through pink spectacles, there is something almost heroic about him. And I think, Musselburgh, if you knew the lion-hearted old man a little better, you wouldn't shrink from acknowledging that there was something fine and even grand in his character. As for Maisrie—as for Miss Bethune—she asks for no generous consideration, or forbearance, or anything of the kind; she asks for no leniency of judgment, and needs none ”

“ In the evening, after dinner, when the time came at which Maisrie was accustomed to take up her violin, there was obviously a little embarrassment. But George Bethune tried to break through that by a forced display of geniality.
"Come, now, Maisrie," said he, in a gay fashion, "our neighbour over the way was straightforward enough to come up and offer us his hand; and we must return the compliment. One good turn deserves another. Get your violin, and play something: he will understand."
"Grandfather, how can you ask me?" ”

“ But you will want the umbrella for yourself—we can get shelter under one of the trees."
"Would that be wise, sir, in a thunderstorm?" said the young man. "Oh, no, let me give you the umbrella—I don't mind a shower—and it won't be more than that, I fancy."
George Bethune accepted the proffered courtesy.
"Here, Maisrie, since this young gentleman is so kind; you'd better be prepared. A neighbour did you say, sir?" he continued.
"A very near neighbour," answered the young man, with a smile, and he seated himself by the side of Mr. Bethune without more ado. ”

“ The present moment was everything to old George Bethune, whether he was engaged with a roe-deer cutlet at a restaurant in Regent-street, or lighting his pipe and mixing his toddy on his return home, while he was descanting on Barbour, and Drummond, and Sir David Lindesay, or Ramsay, and Ferguson, and Burns. People were beginning to leave town; Vincent had received, and declined, an invitation to join a big house-party in Argyllshire, notwithstanding that it was to the same house that Mrs. Ellison and Lord Musselburgh were going ”

“ He was silent now and abstracted: as he walked on he saw nothing of what was around him.
"Come, come, my friend!" George Bethune exclaimed, with much benignity. "Do not vex yourself with useless speculations; you are looking too far ahead; you and she are both too young to burden yourselves with grave responsibilities. A boyish and girlish attachment is a very pretty and engaging thing ”

“ As for old George Bethune, the sharp air and the sunlight had given him an admirable appetite; and he allowed the young people to amuse themselves with little courtesies, and attentions, and protests just as they pleased. Cheese and celery were solid and substantial things: he had no concern about a drooping eyelash, or some pretty, persuasive turn of speech.
And yet he was not unfriendly towards the young man.
"Wouldn't you like to go to the theatre this evening, Maisrie?" Vincent asked. "It is the Squires Daughter. I know you've seen it already ”

“ I have no prejudice or prepossession one way or the other. For another thing, I like to hear the best of everybody—and to believe it, if I can; it makes life pleasanter; and I can't forget, either, that it was through me you got to know George Bethune."
It was a long story, as Vincent had said; and it was a difficult one to set in order and in a proper light: but it was chiefly based on what had been told him by the Toronto banker ”

“ I presume the House of Commons will be your simplest and surest address."
As he walked away home that night Vincent had many things to ponder over; but the question of questions was as to whether Maisrie had indignantly scorned him for his blindness in not perceiving more clearly her grandfather's nature and circumstances, or for his supineness in wavering, and half-admitting that these charges might bring disquiet. For now the figure of old George Bethune seemed to stand out distinctly enough: an amiable and innocent monomaniac; a romantic enthusiast; a sublime egotist; a dreamer of dreams ”

“ WRITTEN BY EDWARD EVERETT, GREEK PROFESSOR OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY IN ANSWER TO "THE GROUNDS OF CHRISTIANITY EXAMINED BY COMPARING THE NEW TESTAMENT WITH THE OLD" BY GEORGE BETHUNE ENGLISH. "Should a wise man utter vain knowledge, and fill his belly with the east wind?" ”

“ There appear to be certain people who don't wish you well; there might be more stories; who can tell what might not happen? Indeed," said he, regarding the old man a little anxiously, "I have been thinking that—that if Maisrie would consent—our getting married at once would be the safest and surest tie of all. I have not spoken of it to her—I thought I would put it before you first——"
Here he paused, in something of anxious uncertainty.
"Married at once?" George Bethune repeated, slowly. ”

“ Moi je l' ai-t-à pleurer— And here she could go no further for those choking tears in her voice; she stood for a moment all uncertain, trying to master herself; then she laid the violin on the table, and with a broken "Good-night, Vincent—and good-bye!" she turned and left the room, her hands hiding her face, her frame shaken by the violence of her sobbing.
There was an instant of silence.
"Yes, it is time she was taken away," old George Bethune said, with a deep frown on his shaggy eyebrows. "Her nerves are all wrong. Why should she make such a to-do about leaving London for a fortnight?" ”

“ The street is so small that it isn't worth an organ-grinder's while to waste time in it."
"Music is a sad thing for interrupting study; I know that," the old gentleman observed. "By the way, I hope we do not disturb you—my granddaughter plays the violin sometimes—"
"I could listen to that kind of music all day long," was the response. "I never heard such violin-playing—most beautiful!—most beautiful!"
"Then you are not far away from us?"
"Right opposite," was the straightforward answer.
George Bethune glanced at the young man with a look of quiet amusement ”

“ He had been a member of the Common Council and the General Assembly, and took an active part in banking and insurance corporations.
April 5.—Death of Dr. George A. Bethune, of Boston. He was born there, in 1812, and was graduated at Harvard College in 1831. He studied medicine in the Harvard Medical School, and also abroad, and having made eye and ear diseases a specialty, practised until about ten or fifteen years ago, when he retired. He was at one time connected with the Massachusetts Eye and Ear Infirmary. ”

“ Bethune (the gentleman who sustained the relation of husband to her) what had become of the ear-rings; and, necessarily, she had no resort but to turn round and say: "It is not very pleasant to tell my husband (or the man who stands in that capacity) that I have given those ear-rings to a lover! I cannot, without offending you, tell you the true cause of this affair, but I must, in order to save myself, say, O, this George stole them, and he is in Pittsburgh with Kate Fisher." ”

“ Bethune had that money in his pocket, what is to prevent his returning to this country to-morrow? Where would be the penalty for his breaking his covenant? You don't trust a man whom you consider a swindler; you must have some guarantee; and the guarantee means that you must be able to get at him when you choose. It stands to reason!"
"Yes, I suppose so—it would seem so," said Lord Musselburgh, rather doubtfully; "but at all events it isn't George Morris who is going to open his mouth. I've been to him; he declines ”

“ He shall judge the poor of the people, he shall save the children of the needy, and shall break in pieces the oppressor. They shall fear thee as long as the sun and moon endure throughout all generations. ”