Page 192
 


Chapter 23

None but the Guilty can be Long and Completely Miserable.

   SOME assiduity was now required to make our present abode as convenient as possible, and we were soon again qualified
to enjoy our former serenity. Being disabled myself from assisting my son in our usual occupations, I read to my family from the
few books that were saved, and particularly from such as, by amusing the imagination, contributed to ease the heart. Our good
neighbors, too, came every day with the kindest condolence, and fixed a time in which they were all to assist at repairing my
former dwelling. Honest Farmer Williams was not last among these visitors: but heartily offered his friendship. He would even
have renewed his addresses to my daughter; but she rejected them in such a manner as totally repressed his future solicitations.
Her grief seemed formed for continuing, and she was the only person of our little society that a week did not restore to
cheerfulness. She now lost that unblushing innocence which once taught her to respect herself, and to seek pleasure by pleasing.



Page 193

Anxiety now had taken strong possession of her mind, her beauty began to be impaired with her constitution, and neglect still
more contributed to diminish it. Every tender epithet bestowed on her sister brought a pang to her heart and a tear to her eye;
and as one vice, though cured, ever plants others where it has been, so her former guilt, though driven out by repentance, left
jealousy and envy behind. I strove a thousand ways to lessen her care, and even forgot my own pain in a concern for hers,
collecting such amusing passages of history as a strong memory and some reading could suggest. "Our happiness, my dear," I
would say, "is in the power of One who can bring it about a thousand unforeseen ways that mock our foresight. If example be
necessary to prove this, I'll give you a story, my child, told us by a grave, though sometimes a romancing, historian.

   "Matilda was married to a very young Neapolitan nobleman of the first quality, and found herself a widow and a mother at the
age of fifteen. As she stood one day caressing her infant son in the open window of an apartment, which hung over the river
Volturna, the child with a sudden spring leaped from her arms into the flood below, and disappeared in a moment. The mother,
struck with instant surprise, and making an effort to save him, plunged in after; but far from being able to assist the infant, she
herself with great difficulty escaped to the opposite shore.



Page 194

just when some French soldiers were plundering the country on that side, who immediately made her their prisoner.

   "As the war was then carried on between the French and Italians with the utmost inhumanity, they were going at once to
perpetrate those two extremes suggested by appetite and cruelty. This base resolution, however, was opposed by a young
officer, who, though their retreat required the utmost expedition, placed her behind him and brought her in safety to his native
city. Her beauty at first caught his eye, her merit soon after his heart. They were married; he rose to the highest posts; they lived
long together and were happy. But the felicity of a soldier can never be called permanent; after an interval of several years, the
troops which he commanded having met with a repulse, he was obliged to take shelter in the city where he had lived with his
wife. Here they suffered a siege, and the city at length was taken. Few histories can produce more various instances of cruelty
than those which the French and Italians at that time exercised upon each other. It was resolved by the victors upon this
occasion to put all the French prisoners to death, but particularly the husband of the unfortunate Matilda, as he was principally
instrumental in protracting the siege. Their determinations were in general executed almost as soon as resolved upon. The
captive soldier was led forth, and the executioner with his sword stood ready,



Page 195

while the spectators in gloomy silence awaited the fatal blow, which was only suspended till the general, who presided as judge,
should give the signal. It was in this interval of anguish and expectation that Matilda came to take her last farewell of her
husband and deliverer, deploring her wretched situation and the cruelty of fate that had saved her from perishing by a premature
death in the river Volturna, to be the spectator of still greater calamities. The general, who was a young man, was struck with
surprise at her beauty, and pity at her distress; but with still stronger emotions when he heard her mention her former danger.
He was her son, the infant for whom she had encountered so much danger. He acknowledged her at once as his mother, and
fell at her feet. The rest may be easily supposed; the captive was set free, and all the happiness that love, friendship, and duty
could confer on earth were united."

   In this manner I would attempt to amuse my daughter; but she listened with divided attention, for her own misfortunes
engrossed all the pity she once had for those of another, and nothing gave her ease. In company she dreaded contempt, and in
solitude she only found anxiety. Such was the color of her wretchedness, when we received certain information that Mr.
Thornhill was going to be married to Miss Wilmot, for whom I always suspected be had a real passion, though he took every
opportunity before me to express



Page 196

his contempt both of her person and fortune. This news only served to increase poor Olivia's affliction; such a flagrant breach of
fidelity was more than her courage could support. I was resolved, however, to get more certain information, and to defeat, if
possible, the completion of his designs, by sending my son to old Mr. Wilmot's with instructions to know the truth of the report,
and to deliver Miss Wilmot a letter intimating Mr. Thornhill's conduct in my family. My son went in pursuance of my directions,
and in three days returned, assuring us of the truth of the account; but that he had found it impossible to deliver the letter, which
he was therefore obliged to leave, as Mr. Thornhill and Miss Wilmot were visiting round the country. They were to be married,
he said, in a few days, having appeared together at church the Sunday before he was there, in great splendor, the bride
attended by six young ladies, and he by as many gentlemen. Their approaching nuptials filled the whole country with rejoicing,
and they usually rode out together in the grandest equipage that had been seen in the country for many years. All the friends of
both families, he said, were there, particularly the 'Squire's uncle, Sir William Thornhill, who bore so good a character. He
added that nothing but mirth and feasting were going forward; that all the country praised the young bride's beauty and the
bridegroom's fine person, and that they were immensely fond of each other; concluding that he



Page 197
 

Image missing
Illustration absent.



Page 198

could not help thinking Mr. Thornhill one of the most happy men in the world.

   "Why, let him if he can," returned I; "but, my son, observe this bed of straw and unsheltering roof; those mouldering walls and
humid floor; my wretched body thus disabled by fire, and my children weeping round me for bread. You have come home, my
child, to all this; yet here, even here, you see a man that would not for a thousand worlds exchange situations. 0 my children, if
you could but learn to commune with your own hearts, and know what noble company you can make them, you would little
regard the elegance and splendor of the worthless. Almost all men have been taught to call life a passage, and themselves the
travellers. The similitude still may be improved, when we observe that the good are joyful and serene, like travellers that are
going towards home; the wicked but by intervals happy, like travellers that are going into exile."

   My compassion for my poor daughter, overpowered by this new disaster, interrupted what I had further to observe. I bade
her mother support her, and after a short time she recovered. She appeared from that time more calm, and, I imagined, had
gained a new degree of resolution: but appearances deceived me; for her tranquillity was the languor of overwrought
resentment.

   A supply of provisions charitably sent us by my



Page 199

kind parishioners, seemed to diffuse new cheerfulness among the rest of the family; nor was I displeased at seeing them once
more sprightly and at ease. It would have been unjust to damp their satisfactions, merely to condole with resolute melancholy,
or to burden them with a sadness they did not feel. Thus once more the tale went round, and the song was demanded, and
cheerfulness condescended to hover round our little habitation.

Back