"PHILOSOPHY MADE EASY" UPON AGRARIAN PRINCIPLES, THE SUBJECT OF SOME
UNEASINESS TO OUR HERO--THE FIRST APPEARANCE, BUT NOT THE LAST, OF AN
IMPORTANT PERSONAGE.
The conversation was here interrupted by a mail from England which they
had been expecting. Captain Wilson retired with his letters; the
Governor remained equally occupied; and our hero received the first
letter ever written to him by his father. It ran as follows:--
"MY DEAR SON:--
"I have many times taken up my pen with the intention of letting you
know how things went on in this country. But as I can perceive around
but one dark horizon of evil, I have as often laid it down again without
venturing to make you unhappy with such bad intelligence.
"The account of your death, and also of your unexpectedly being yet
spared to us, were duly received, and I trust, I mourned and rejoiced on
each occasion with all the moderation characteristic of a philosopher.
In the first instance I consoled myself with the reflection that the
world you had left was in a state of slavery and pressed down by the
iron arm of despotism, and that to die was gain, not only in all the
parson tells us, but also in our liberty; and, at the second
intelligence, I moderated my joy for nearly about the same reasons,
resolving, notwithstanding what Dr Middleton may say, to die as I have
lived, a true philosopher.
"The more I reflect the more am I convinced that there is nothing
required to make this world happy but equality, and the rights of man
being duly observed--in short, that everything and everybody should be
reduced to one level. Do we not observe that it is the law of nature--
do not brooks run into rivers--rivers into seas--mountains crumble down
upon the plains?--are not the seasons contented to equalise the parts of
the earth? Why does the sun run round the ecliptic, instead of the
equator, but to give an equal share of his heat to both sides of the
world? Are we not all equally born in misery? does not death level us
all _aequo pede_, as the poet hath? are we not all equally hungry,
thirsty, and sleepy, and thus levelled by our natural wants? And such
being the case, ought we not to have our equal share of good things in
this world, to which we have an undoubted equal right? Can any argument
be more solid or more level than this, whatever nonsense Dr Middleton
may talk?
"Yes, my son, if it were not that I still hope to see the sun of Justice
arise, and disperse the manifold dark clouds which obscure the land--if
I did not still hope, in my time, to see an equal distribution of
property--an Agrarian law passed by the House of Commons, in which all
should benefit alike--I would not care how soon I left this vale of
tears, created by tyranny and injustice. At present, the same system is
carried on; the nation is taxed for the benefit of the few, and it
groans under oppression and despotism; but I still do think that there
is, if I may fortunately express myself, a bright star in the west; and
signs of the times which comfort me. Already we have had a good deal of
incendiarism about the country, and some of the highest aristocracy have
pledged themselves to raise the people above themselves, and have
advised sedition and conspiracy; have shown to the debased and
unenlightened multitude that their force is physically irresistible, and
recommended them to make use of it, promising that if they hold in
power, they will only use that power to the abolition of our farce of a
constitution, of a church, and of a king; and that if the nation is to
be governed at all, it shall only be governed by the many. This is
cheering. Hail, patriot lords! all hail! I am in hopes yet the great
work will be achieved, in spite of the laughs and sneers and shakes of
the head which my arguments still meet with from that obstinate fellow
Dr Middleton.
"Your mother is in a quiet way; she has given over reading and working,
and even her knitting, as useless; and she now sits all day long at the
chimney corner twiddling her thumbs, and waiting, as she says, for the
millennium. Poor thing! she is very foolish with her ideas upon this
matter, but as usual I let her have her own way in every thing, copying
the philosopher of old, who was tied to his Xantippe.
"I trust, my dear son, that your principles have strengthened with your
years and fortified with your growth, and that, if necessary, you will
sacrifice all to obtain what in my opinion will prove to be the real
millennium. Make all the converts you can, and believe me to be, your
affectionate father and true guide:--
"NICODEMUS EASY."
Jack, who was alone, shook his head as he read this letter, and then
laid it down with a pish! He did it involuntarily, and was surprised at
himself when he found that he had so done. "I should like to argue the
point," thought Jack, in spite of himself; and then he threw the letter
on the table, and went into Gascoigne's room, displeased with his father
and with himself. He asked Ned whether he had received any letters from
England, and it being dinner-time, went back to dress. On his coming
down into the receiving-room with Gascoigne, the Governor said to them:
"As you two both speak Italian, you must take charge of a Sicilian
officer who has come here with letters of introduction to me, and who
dines here to-day."
Before dinner they were introduced to the party in question, a
slight-made, well-looking young man, but still there was an expression
in his countenance which was not agreeable. In compliance with the
wishes of the Governor, Don Mathias, for so he was called, was placed
between our two midshipmen, who immediately entered into conversation
with him, being themselves anxious to make inquiries about their friends
at Palermo. In the course of conversation Jack inquired of him whether
he was acquainted with Don Rebiera, to which the Sicilian answered in
the affirmative, and they talked about the different members of the
family. Don Mathias, towards the close of the dinner, inquired of Jack
by what means he had become acquainted with Don Rebiera, and Jack, in
reply, narrated how he and his friend Gascoigne had saved him from being
murdered by two villains; after this reply the young officer appeared to
be less inclined for conversation, but before the party broke up
requested to have the acquaintance of our two midshipmen. As soon as he
was gone, Gascoigne observed in a reflective way, "I have seen that face
before, but where I cannot exactly say; but you know, Jack, what a
memory of people I have, and I have seen him before, I am sure."
"I can't recollect that ever I have," replied our hero, "but I never
knew any one who could recollect in that way as you do."
The conversation was then dropped between them, and Jack was for some
time listening to the Governor and Captain Wilson, for the whole party
were gone away, when Gascoigne, who had been in deep thought since he
had made the observation to Jack, sprang up.
"I have him at last!" cried he.
"Have who?" demanded Captain Wilson.
"That Sicilian officer--I could have sworn that I had seen him before."
"That Don Mathias?"
"No, Sir Thomas! He is not Don Mathias! He is the very Don Silvio who
was murdering Don Rebiera, when we came to his assistance and saved
him."
"I do believe you are right, Gascoigne."
"I'm positive of it," replied Gascoigne; "I never made a mistake in my
life."
"Bring me those letters, Easy," said the Governor, "and let us see what
they say of him. Here it is--Don Mathias de Alayeres. You may be
mistaken, Gascoigne; it's a heavy charge you are making against this
young man."
"Well, Sir Thomas, if that is not Don Silvio, I'd forfeit my commission
if I had it here in my hand. Besides, I observed the change in his
countenance when we told him it was Easy and I who had come to Don
Rebiera's assistance; and did you observe after that, Easy, that he
hardly said a word?"
"Very true," replied Jack.
"Well, well, we must see to this," observed the Governor; "if so, this
letter of introduction must be a forgery."
The party then retired to bed, and the next morning, while Easy was in
Gascoigne's room talking over their suspicions, letters from Palermo
were brought up to him. They were in answer to those written by Jack on
his arrival at Malta: a few lines from Don Rebiera, a small note from
Agnes, and a voluminous detail from his friend Don Philip, who informed
him of the good health of all parties and of their good-will towards
him; of Agnes being as partial as ever; of his having spoken plainly, as
he had promised Jack, to his father and mother relative to the mutual
attachment; of their consent being given, and then withheld, because
Father Thomas, their confessor, would not listen to the union of Agnes
with a heretic; but, nevertheless, telling Jack this would be got over
through the medium of his brother and himself, who were determined that
their sister and he should not be made unhappy about such a trifle. But
the latter part of the letter contained intelligence equally important,
which was, that Don Silvio had again attempted the life of their father,
and would have succeeded, had not Father Thomas, who happened to be
there, thrown himself between them. That Don Silvio in his rage had
actually stabbed the confessor, although the wound was not dangerous.
That, in consequence of this, all further lenity was denied to him, and
that the authorities were in search of him to award him the punishment
due to murder and sacrilege. That up to the present they could not find
him, and it was supposed that he had made his escape to Malta in one of
the speronares.
Such were the contents of the letter, which were immediately
communicated to the Governor and Captain Wilson, upon their meeting at
breakfast.
"Very well, we must see to this," observed the Governor, who then made
his inquiries as to the other intelligence contained in the letters.
Jack and Gascoigne were uneasy till the breakfast was over, when they
made their escape: a few moments afterwards Captain Wilson rose to go on
board, and sent for them, but they were not to be found.
"I understand it all, Wilson," said the Governor; "leave them to me; go
on board and make yourself quite easy."
In the meantime our two midshipmen had taken their hats and walked away
to the parapet of the battery, where they would not be interrupted.
"Now, Gascoigne," observed Jack, "you guess what I'm about--I must shoot
that rascal this very morning, and that's why I came out with you."
"But, Easy, the only difference is this, that I must shoot him, and not
you; he is my property, for I found him out."
"We'll argue that point," replied Jack: "he has attempted the life of my
is-to-be, please God, father-in-law, and therefore I have the best claim
to him."
"I beg your pardon, Jack, he is mine, for I discovered him. Now let me
put a case: suppose one man walking several yards before another, picks
up a purse, what claim has the other to it? I found him, and not you."
"That's all very well, Gascoigne; but suppose the purse you picked up to
be mine, then I have a right to it, although you found it; he is my bird
by right, and not yours."
"But I have another observation to make, which is very important: he is
a blood relation of Agnes, and if his blood is on your hands, however
much he may deserve it, depend upon it, it will be raised as an obstacle
to your union; think of that."
Jack paused in thought.
"And let me induce you by another remark--you will confer on me a most
particular favour."
"It will be the greatest I ever could," replied Jack, "and you ought to
be eternally indebted to me."
"I trust to make him _eternally_ indebted to me," replied Gascoigne.
Sailors, if going into action, always begin to reckon what their share
of their prize-money may be, before a shot is fired--our two midshipmen
appear in this instance to be doing the same.
The point having been conceded to Gascoigne, Jack went to the inn where
Don Silvio had mentioned that he had taken up his quarters, and sending
up his card, followed the waiter upstairs. The waiter opened the door,
and presented the card.
"Very well," replied Don Silvio, "you can go down and show him up."
Jack, hearing these words, did not wait, but walked in, where he found
Don Silvio very busy removing a hone upon which he had been whetting a
sharp double-edged stiletto. The Sicilian walked up to him, offering
his hand with apparent cordiality; but Jack with a look of defiance
said, "Don Silvio, we know you; my object now is to demand, on the part
of my friend, the satisfaction which you do not deserve, but which our
indignation at your second attempt upon Don Rebiera induces us to offer;
for if you escape from him you will have to do with me. On the whole,
Don Silvio, you may think yourself fortunate, for it is better to die by
the hands of a gentleman than by the gibbet."
Don Silvio turned deadly pale--his hand sought his stiletto in his
bosom, but it was remaining on the table; at last he replied, "Be it
so--I will meet you when and where you please, in an hour from this."
Jack mentioned the place of meeting, and then walked out of the room.
He and Gascoigne then hastened to the quarters of an officer they were
intimate with, and having provided themselves with the necessary
fire-arms, were at the spot before the time. They waited for him till
the exact time, yet no Don Silvio made his appearance.
"He's off," observed Gascoigne; "the villain has escaped us."
Half an hour over the time had passed, and still there was no sign of
Gascoigne's antagonist, but one of the Governor's aides-de-camp was seen
walking up to them.
"Here's Atkins," observed Jack; "that's unlucky, but he won't
interfere."
"Gentlemen," said Atkins, taking off his hat with much solemnity, "the
Governor particularly wishes to speak to you both."
"We can't come just now--we'll be there in half an hour."
"You must be there in three minutes, both of you. Excuse me, my orders
are positive--and to see them duly executed I have a corporal and a file
of men behind that wall--of course, if you walk with me quietly there
will be no occasion to send for their assistance."
"This is confounded tyranny," cried Jack. "Well may they call him King
Tom."
"Yes," replied Atkins, "and he governs here _in rey absoluto_--so come
along."
Jack and Gascoigne, having no choice, walked up to the government-house,
where they found Sir Thomas in the veranda, which commanded a view of
the harbour and offing.
"Come here, young gentlemen," said the Governor, in a severe tone; "do
you see that vessel about two miles clear of the port? Don Silvio is in
it, going back to Sicily under a guard. And now remember what I say as
a maxim through life. Fight with gentlemen, if you must fight, but not
with villains and murderers. By _consenting_ to fight with a
_blackguard_, you as much disparage your cloth and compromise your own
characters, as by refusing to give satisfaction to a _gentleman_.
There, go away, for I'm angry with you, and don't let me see you till
dinner-time."