Near to her
father's house was a range of mountains; some of them were, literally speaking,
cloud-capt, for on them clouds continually rested,
and gave grandeur to the prospect; and down many of their sides the little
bubbling cascades ran till they swelled a beautiful river. Through the
straggling trees and bushes the wind whistled, and on them the birds sung,
particularly the robins; they also found shelter in the ivy of an old castle, a
haunted one, as the story went; it was situated on the brow of one of the
mountains, and commanded a view of the sea. This castle had been inhabited by
some of her ancestors; and many tales had the old
house-keeper told her of the worthies who had resided there.
When her
mother frowned, and her friend looked cool, she would steal to this retirement,
where human foot seldom trod—gaze on the sea, observe the grey clouds, or
listen to the wind which struggled to free itself from the only thing that
impeded its course. When more cheerful, she admired the various dispositions of
light and shade, the beautiful tints the gleams of sunshine gave to the distant
hills; then she rejoiced in existence, and darted into futurity.
One way home
was through the cavity of a rock covered with a thin layer of earth, just
sufficient to afford nourishment to a few stunted shrubs and wild plants, which
grew on its sides, and nodded over the summit. A clear stream broke out of it, and ran amongst the pieces of rocks fallen into it.
Here twilight always reigned—it seemed the Temple of Solitude; yet, paradoxical
as the assertion may appear, when the foot sounded on the rock, it terrified
the intruder, and inspired a strange feeling, as if the rightful sovereign was
dislodged. In this retreat she read Thomson's Seasons, Young's Night-Thoughts,
and Paradise Lost.
At a little
distance from it were the huts of a few poor fishermen, who supported their
numerous children by their precarious labour. In
these little huts she frequently rested, and denied herself every childish
gratification, in order to relieve the necessities of the inhabitants. Her
heart yearned for them, and would dance with joy when she had relieved their
wants, or afforded them pleasure.
In these pursuits she learned the luxury of doing good; and the sweet tears
of benevolence frequently moistened her eyes, and gave them a sparkle which,
exclusive of that, they had not; on the contrary, they were rather fixed, and
would never have been observed if her soul had not animated them. They were not
at all like those brilliant ones which look like polished diamonds, and dart
from every superfice, giving more light to the beholders
than they receive themselves.
Her
benevolence, indeed, knew no bounds; the distress of others carried her out of
herself; and she rested not till she had relieved or comforted them. The warmth
of her compassion often made her so diligent, that many things occurred to her,
which might have escaped a less interested observer.
In like manner, she entered with such spirit into whatever she read, and
the emotions thereby raised were so strong, that it soon became a part of her
mind.
Enthusiastic
sentiments of devotion at this period actuated her; her Creator was almost
apparent to her senses in his works; but they were mostly the grand or solemn
features of Nature which she delighted to contemplate. She would stand and
behold the waves rolling, and think of the voice that could still the
tumultuous deep.
These
propensities gave the colour to her mind, before the
passions began to exercise their tyrannic sway, and
particularly pointed out those which the soil would have a tendency to nurse.
Years after, when wandering through the same scenes, her imagination has
strayed back, to trace the first placid sentiments they
inspired, and she would earnestly desire to regain the same peaceful tranquillity.
Many nights
she sat up, if I may be allowed the expression, conversing with the
Author of Nature, making verses, and singing hymns of her own composing. She
considered also, and tried to discern what end her various faculties were
destined to pursue; and had a glimpse of a truth, which afterwards more fully
unfolded itself.
She thought
that only an infinite being could fill the human soul, and that when other
objects were followed as a means of happiness, the delusion led to misery, the
consequence of disappointment. Under the influence of ardent affections, how
often has she forgot this conviction, and as often returned to it again, when
it struck her with redoubled force. Often did she taste
unmixed delight; her joys, her ecstacies arose from
genius.
She was now
fifteen, and she wished to receive the holy sacrament; and perusing the
scriptures, and discussing some points of doctrine which puzzled her, she would
sit up half the night, her favourite time for
employing her mind; she too plainly perceived that she saw through a glass
darkly; and that the bounds set to stop our intellectual researches, is one of
the trials of a probationary state.
But her
affections were roused by the display of divine mercy; and she eagerly desired
to commemorate the dying love of her great benefactor. The night before the
important day, when she was to take on herself her baptismal vow, she could not
go to bed; the sun broke in on her meditations, and found
her not exhausted by her watching.
The orient
pearls were strewed around—she hailed the morn, and sung with wild delight,
Glory to God on high, good will towards men. She was indeed so much affected
when she joined in the prayer for her eternal preservation, that she could
hardly conceal her violent emotions; and the recollection never failed to wake
her dormant piety when earthly passions made it grow languid.
These
various movements of her mind were not commented on, nor were the luxuriant
shoots restrained by culture. The servants and the poor adored her.
In order to
be enabled to gratify herself in the highest degree,
she practiced the most rigid śconomy, and had such
power over her appetites and whims, that without any great effort she conquered
them so entirely, that when her understanding or
affections had an object, she almost forgot she had a body which required
nourishment.
This habit
of thinking, this kind of absorption, gave strength to the passions.
We will now
enter on the more active field of life.