[Footnote 1: one]
[Footnote 2: This letter is by Miss Shepheard, the 'Parthenia' of No.
140.]
[Footnote 3: that]
[Footnote 4: that]
* * * *
No. 164. Friday, September 7, 1711. Addison.
'Illa; Quis et me, inquit, miseram, et te perdidit, Orpheu? Jamque
vale: feror ingenti circumdata nocte, Invalidasque tibi tendens,
heu! non tua, palmas.'
Virg.
CONSTANTIA was a Woman of extraordinary Wit and Beauty, but very unhappy
in a Father, who having arrived at great Riches by his own Industry,
took delight in nothing but his Money. _Theodosius_ was the younger Son
of a decayed Family of great Parts and Learning, improved by a genteel
and vertuous Education. When he was in the twentieth year of his Age he
became acquainted with _Constantia_, who had not then passed her
fifteenth. As he lived but a few Miles Distance from her Father's House,
he had frequent opportunities of seeing her; and by the Advantages of a
good Person and a pleasing Conversation, made such an Impression in her
Heart as it was impossible for time to [efface [1]]: He was himself no
less smitten with _Constantia_. A long Acquaintance made them still
discover new Beauties in each other, and by Degrees raised in them that
mutual Passion which had an Influence on their following Lives. It
unfortunately happened, that in the midst of this intercourse of Love
and Friendship between _Theodosius_ and _Constantia_, there broke out an
irreparable Quarrel between their Parents, the one valuing himself too
much upon his Birth, and the other upon his Possessions. The Father of
_Constantia_ was so incensed at the Father of _Theodosius_, that he
contracted an unreasonable Aversion towards his Son, insomuch that he
forbad him his House, and charged his Daughter upon her Duty never to
see him more. In the mean time to break off all Communication between
the two Lovers, who he knew entertained secret Hopes of some favourable
Opportunity that should bring them together, he found out a young
Gentleman of a good Fortune and an agreeable Person, whom he pitched
upon as a Husband for his Daughter. He soon concerted this Affair so
well, that he told _Constantia_ it was his Design to marry her to such a
Gentleman, and that her Wedding should be celebrated on such a Day.
_Constantia_, who was over-awed with the Authority of her Father, and
unable to object anything against so advantageous a Match, received the
Proposal with a profound Silence, which her Father commended in her, as
the most decent manner of a Virgin's giving her Consent to an Overture
of that Kind: The Noise of this intended Marriage soon reached
_Theodosius_, who, after a long Tumult of Passions which naturally rise
in a Lover's Heart on such an Occasion, writ the following letter to
_Constantia_.
'The Thought of my _Constantia_, which for some years has been my only
Happiness, is now become a greater Torment to me than I am able to
bear. Must I then live to see you another's? The Streams, the Fields
and Meadows, where we have so often talked together, grow painful to
me; Life it self is become a Burden. May you long be happy in the
World, but forget that there was ever such a Man in it as
_THEODOSIUS_.'
This Letter was conveyed to _Constantia_ that very Evening, who fainted
at the Reading of it; and the next Morning she was much more alarmed by
two or three Messengers, that came to her Father's House one after
another to inquire if they had heard any thing of _Theodosius_, who it
seems had left his Chamber about Midnight, and could nowhere be found.
The deep Melancholy, which had hung upon his Mind some Time before, made
them apprehend the worst that could befall him. _Constantia_, who knew
that nothing but the Report of her Marriage could have driven him to
such Extremities, was not to be comforted: She now accused her self for
having so tamely given an Ear to the Proposal of a Husband, and looked
upon the new Lover as the Murderer of _Theodosius:_ In short, she
resolved to suffer the utmost Effects of her Father's Displeasure,
rather than comply with a Marriage which appeared to her so full of
Guilt and Horror. The Father seeing himself entirely rid of
_Theodosius,_ and likely to keep a considerable Portion in his Family,
was not very much concerned at the obstinate Refusal of his Daughter;
and did not find it very difficult to excuse himself upon that Account
to his intended Son-in-law, who had all along regarded this Alliance
rather as a Marriage of Convenience than of Love. _Constantia_ had now
no Relief but in her Devotions and Exercises of Religion, to which her
Afflictions had so entirely subjected her Mind, that after some Years
had abated the Violence of her Sorrows, and settled her Thoughts in a
kind of Tranquillity, she resolved to pass the Remainder of her Days in
a Convent. Her Father was not displeased with [a [2]] Resolution, [which
[3]] would save Money in his Family, and readily complied with his
Daughter's Intentions. Accordingly in the Twenty-fifth Year of her Age,
while her Beauty was yet in all its Height and Bloom, he carried her to
a neighbouring City, in order to look out a Sisterhood of Nuns among
whom to place his Daughter. There was in this Place a Father of a
Convent who was very much renowned for his Piety and exemplary Life; and
as it is usual in the Romish Church for those who are under any great
Affliction, or Trouble of Mind, to apply themselves to the most eminent
Confessors for Pardon and Consolation, our beautiful Votary took the
Opportunity of confessing herself to this celebrated Father.
We must now return to Theodosius, who, the very Morning that the
above-mentioned Inquiries had been made after him, arrived at a
religious House in the City, where now Constantia resided; and desiring
that Secresy and Concealment of the Fathers of the Convent, which is
very usual upon any extraordinary Occasion, he made himself one of the
Order, with a private Vow never to enquire after _Constantia_; whom he
looked upon as given away to his Rival upon the Day on which, according
to common Fame, their Marriage was to have been solemnized. Having in
his Youth made a good Progress in Learning, that he might dedicate
[himself [4]] more entirely to Religion, he entered into holy Orders,
and in a few Years became renowned for his Sanctity of Life, and those
pious Sentiments which he inspired into all [who [5]] conversed with
him. It was this holy Man to whom _Constantia_ had determined to apply
her self in Confession, tho' neither she nor any other besides the Prior
of the Convent, knew any thing of his Name or Family. The gay, the
amiable _Theodosius_ had now taken upon him the Name of Father
_Francis_, and was so far concealed in a long Beard, a [shaven [3]]
Head, and a religious Habit, that it was impossible to discover the Man
of the World in the venerable Conventual.
As he was one Morning shut up in his Confessional, _Constantia_ kneeling
by him opened the State of her Soul to him; and after having given him
the History of a Life full of Innocence, she burst out in Tears, and
entred upon that Part of her Story in which he himself had so great a
Share. My Behaviour, says she, has I fear been the Death of a Man who
had no other Fault but that of loving me too much. Heaven only knows how
dear he was to me whilst he liv'd, and how bitter the Remembrance of him
has been to me since his Death. She here paused, and lifted up her Eyes
that streamed with Tears towards the Father; who was so moved with the
Sense of her Sorrows, that he could only command his Voice, which was
broke with Sighs and Sobbings, so far as to bid her proceed. She
followed his Directions, and in a Flood of Tears poured out her Heart
before him. The Father could not forbear weeping aloud, insomuch that in
the Agonies of his Grief the Seat shook under him. _Constantia_, who
thought the good Man was thus moved by his Compassion towards her, and
by the Horror of her Guilt, proceeded with the utmost Contrition to
acquaint him with that Vow of Virginity in which she was going to engage
herself, as the proper Atonement for her Sins, and the only Sacrifice
she could make to the Memory of _Theodosius_. The Father, who by this
time had pretty well composed himself, burst out again in Tears upon
hearing that Name to which he had been so long disused, and upon
receiving this Instance of an unparallel'd Fidelity from one who he
thought had several Years since given herself up to the Possession of
another. Amidst the Interruptions of his Sorrow, seeing his Penitent
overwhelmed with Grief, he was only able to bid her from time to time be
comforted--To tell her that her Sins were forgiven her--That her Guilt
was not so great as she apprehended--That she should not suffer her self
to be afflicted above Measure. After which he recovered himself enough
to give her the Absolution in Form; directing her at the same time to
repair to him again the next Day, that he might encourage her in the
pious Resolution[s] she had taken, and give her suitable Exhortations
for her Behaviour in it. _Constantia_ retired, and the next Morning
renewed her Applications. _Theodosius_ having manned his Soul with
proper Thoughts and Reflections exerted himself on this Occasion in the
best Manner he could to animate his Penitent in the Course of Life she
was entering upon, and wear out of her Mind those groundless Fears and
Apprehensions which had taken Possession of it; concluding with a
Promise to her, that he would from time to time continue his Admonitions
when she should have taken upon her the holy Veil. The Rules of our
respective Orders, says he, will not permit that I should see you, but
you may assure your self not only of having a Place in my Prayers, but
of receiving such frequent Instructions as I can convey to you by
Letters. Go on chearfully in the glorious Course you have undertaken,
and you will quickly find such a Peace and Satisfaction in your Mind,
which it is not in the Power of the World to give.
_Constantia's_ Heart was so elevated with the Discourse of Father
_Francis_, that the very next Day she entered upon her Vow. As soon as
the Solemnities of her Reception were over, she retired, as it is usual,
with the Abbess into her own Apartment.
The Abbess had been informed the Night before of all that had passed
between her Noviciate and Father _Francis:_ From whom she now delivered
to her the following Letter.
'As the First-fruits of those Joys and Consolations which you may
expect from the Life you are now engaged in, I must acquaint you that
_Theodosius_, whose Death sits so heavy upon your Thoughts, is still
alive; and that the Father, to whom you have confessed your self, was
once that _Theodosius_ whom you so much lament. The love which we have
had for one another will make us more happy in its Disappointment than
it could have done in its Success. Providence has disposed of us for
our Advantage, tho' not according to our Wishes. Consider your
_Theodosius_ still as dead, but assure your self of one who will not
cease to pray for you in Father.'
_FRANCIS._
_Constantia_ saw that the Hand-writing agreed with the Contents of the
Letter: and upon reflecting on the Voice of the Person, the Behaviour,
and above all the extreme Sorrow of the Father during her Confession,
she discovered _Theodosius_ in every Particular. After having wept with
Tears of Joy, It is enough, says she, _Theodosius_ is still in Being: I
shall live with Comfort and die in Peace.
The Letters which the Father sent her afterwards are yet extant in the
Nunnery where she resided; and are often read to the young Religious, in
order to inspire them with good Resolutions and Sentiments of Virtue. It
so happened, that after _Constantia_ had lived about ten Years in the
Cloyster, a violent Feaver broke out in the Place, which swept away
great Multitudes, and among others _Theodosius._ Upon his Deathbed he
sent his Benediction in a very moving Manner to _Constantia,_ who at
that time was herself so far gone in the same fatal Distemper, that she
lay delirious. Upon the Interval which generally precedes Death in
Sicknesses of this Nature, the Abbess, finding that the Physicians had
given her over, told her that _Theodosius_ was just gone before her, and
that he had sent her his Benediction in his last Moments. _Constantia_
received it with Pleasure: And now, says she, If I do not ask anything
improper, let me be buried by _Theodosius._ My Vow reaches no farther
than the Grave. What I ask is, I hope, no Violation of it.--She died
soon after, and was interred according to her Request.
Their Tombs are still to be seen, with a short Latin Inscription over
them to the following Purpose.
Here lie the Bodies of Father _Francis_ and Sister _Constance. They were
lovely in their Lives, and in their Deaths they were not divided._