The Benefits arising from Devotion.—The History of the Village
School-mistress.—Fatal Effects of Inattention to Expences, in the History
of Mr. Lofty.
The next morning Mrs. Mason desired the children to get their work, and
draw near the table whilst she related the promised history; and in the
afternoon, if the weather be fine, they were to visit the village
school-mistress.
Her father, the honourable Mr. Lofty, was the youngest son of a noble
family; his education had been liberal, though his fortune was small.
His relations, however, seemed determined to push him forward in life,
before he disobliged them by marrying the daughter of a country
clergyman, an accomplished, sensible woman.
Some time after the birth of his daughter Anna, his elder brother, the
Earl of Caermarthen, was reconciled to him; but this reconciliation only
led him into expences, which his limited fortune could not bear. Mr.
Lofty had a high sense of honour, and rather a profuse turn; he was,
beside, a very humane man, and gave away much more than he could afford
to give, when his compassion was excited. He never did a mean action;
but sometimes an ostentatious pride tarnished the lustre of very splendid
ones, made them appear to judicious eyes, more like tinsel, than gold. I
will account for it. His first impulse arose from sensibility, and the
second from an immoderate desire of human applause: for he seemed not to
be alive to devotional feelings, or to have that rock to rest on, which
will support a frail being, and give true dignity to a character, though
all nature combined to crush it.
Mrs. Lofty was not a shining character—but I will read you a part of a
letter, which her daughter, the lady we are to visit, wrote to me.
‘This being the anniversary of the day on which an ever loved, and much
revered parent was released from the bondage of mortality, I observe it
with particular seriousness, and with gratitude; for her sorrows were
great, her trials severe—but her conduct was blameless: yet the world
admired her not; her silent, modest virtues, were not formed to attract
the notice of the injudicious crowd, and her understanding was not
brilliant enough to excite admiration. But she was regardless of the
opinion of the world; she sought her reward in the source from whence her
virtue was derived—and she found it.—He, who, for wise and merciful
purposes, suffered her to be afflicted, supported her under her trials;
thereby calling forth the exercise of those virtues with which He had
adorned her gentle soul; and imparting to her a degree of heart-felt
comfort, which no earthly blessing could afford.’
This amiable parent died when Anna was near eighteen, and left her to the
care of her father, whose high spirit she had imbibed. However, the
religious principles which her mother had instilled regulated her notions
of honour, and so elevated her character, that her heart was regulated by
her understanding.
Her father who had insensibly involved himself in debt, after her
mother’s death, tried many different schemes of life, all of which, at
first wore a promising aspect; but wanting that suppleness of temper,
that enables people to rise in the world, his struggles, instead of
extricating, sunk him still deeper. Wanting also the support of
religion, he became sour, easily irritated, and almost hated a world
whose applause he had once eagerly courted. His affairs were at last in
such a desperate state, that he was obliged, reluctantly, to accept of an
invitation from his brother, who with his wife, a weak fine lady,
intended to spend some time on the continent; his daughter was, of
course, to be of the party.
The restraint of obligations did not suit his temper, and feeling himself
dependent, he imagined every one meant to insult him.
Some sarcasms were thrown out one day by a gentleman, in a large company;
they were not personal, yet he took fire. His sore mind was easily hurt,
he resented them; and heated by wine, they both said more than their cool
reason would have suggested. Mr. Lofty imagined his honour was wounded,
and the next morning sent him a challenge—They met—and he killed his
antagonist, who, dying, pardoned him, and declared that the sentiments
which had given him so much offence, fell from him by accident, and were
not levelled at any person.
The dying man lamented, that the thread of a thoughtless life had been so
suddenly snapped—the name of his wife and children he could not
articulate, when something like a prayer for them escaped his livid lips,
and shook his exhausted frame—The blood flowed in a copious stream—vainly
did Mr. Lofty endeavour to staunch it—the heart lost its vital
nourishment—and the soul escaped as he pressed the hand of his
destroyer.—Who, when he found him breathless, ran home, and rushed in a
hurry into his own chamber. The dead man’s image haunted his
imagination—he started—imagined that he was at his elbow—and shook the
hand that had received the dying grasp—yet still it was pressed, and the
pressure entered into his very soul—On the table lay two pistols, he
caught up one,—and shot himself.—The report alarmed the family—the
servants and his daughter, for his brother was not at home, broke open
the door,—and she saw the dreadful sight! As there was still some
appearance of life, a trembling ray—she supported the body, and sent for
assistance. But he soon died in her arms without speaking, before the
servant returned with a surgeon.
Horror seized her, another pistol lay charged on the table, she caught it
up, but religion held her hand—she knelt down by a dead father, and
prayed to a superior one. Her mind grew calmer—yet still she
passionately wished she had but heard him speak, or that she had conveyed
comfort to his departing spirit—where, where would it find comfort? again
she was obliged to have recourse to prayer.
After the death of her father, her aunt treated her as if she were a mere
dependent on her bounty; and expected her to be an humble companion in
every sense of the word. The visitors took the tone from her ladyship,
and numberless were the mortifications she had to bear.
The entrance of a person about business interrupted the narration; but
Mrs. Mason promised to resume it after dinner.