'Among all the Distresses which happen in Families, I do not remember
that you have touched upon the Marriage of Children without the
Consent of their Parents. I am one of [these [1]] unfortunate Persons.
I was about Fifteen when I took the Liberty to choose for my self; and
have ever since languished under the Displeasure of an inexorable
Father, who, though he sees me happy in the best of Husbands, and
blessed with very fine Children, can never be prevailed upon to
forgive me. He was so kind to me before this unhappy Accident, that
indeed it makes my Breach of Duty, in some measure, inexcusable; and
at the same Time creates in me such a Tenderness towards him, that I
love him above all things, and would die to be reconciled to him. I
have thrown myself at his Feet, and besought him with Tears to pardon
me; but he always pushes me away, and spurns me from him; I have
written several Letters to him, but he will neither open nor receive
them. About two Years ago I sent my little Boy to him, dressed in a
new Apparel; but the Child returned to me crying, because he said his
Grandfather would not see him, and had ordered him to be put out of
his House. My Mother is won over to my Side, but dares not mention me
to my Father for fear of provoking him. About a Month ago he lay sick
upon his Bed, and in great Danger of his Life: I was pierced to the
Heart at the News, and could not forbear going to inquire after his
Health. My Mother took this Opportunity of speaking in my Behalf: she
told him with abundance of Tears, that I was come to see him, that I
could not speak to her for weeping, and that I should certainly break
my Heart if he refus'd at that Time to give me his Blessing, and be
reconciled to me. He was so far from relenting towards me, that he bid
her speak no more of me, unless she had a mind to disturb him in his
last Moments; for, Sir, you must know that he has the Reputation of an
honest and religious Man, which makes my Misfortune so much the
greater. God be thanked he is since recovered: But his severe Usage
has given me such a Blow, that I shall soon sink under it, unless I
may be relieved by any Impressions which the reading of this in your
Paper may make upon him.
_I am, &c._
Of all Hardnesses of Heart there is none so inexcusable as that of
Parents towards their Children. An obstinate, inflexible, unforgiving
Temper is odious upon all Occasions; but here it is unnatural. The Love,
Tenderness, and Compassion, which are apt to arise in us towards those
[who [2]] depend upon us, is that by which the whole World of Life is
upheld. The Supreme Being, by the transcendent Excellency and Goodness
of his Nature, extends his Mercy towards all his Works; and because his
Creatures have not such a spontaneous Benevolence and Compassion towards
those who are under their Care and Protection, he has implanted in them
an Instinct, that supplies the Place of this inherent Goodness. I have
illustrated this kind of Instinct in former Papers, and have shewn how
it runs thro' all the Species of brute Creatures, as indeed the whole
Animal Creation subsists by it.
This Instinct in Man is more general and uncircumscribed than in Brutes,
as being enlarged by the Dictates of Reason and Duty. For if we consider
our selves attentively, we shall find that we are not only inclined to
love those who descend from us, but that we bear a kind of [Greek:
atorgáe], or natural Affection, to every thing which relies upon us for
its Good and Preservation. Dependance is a perpetual Call upon Humanity,
and a greater Incitement to Tenderness and Pity than any other Motive
whatsoever.
The Man therefore who, notwithstanding any Passion or Resentment, can
overcome this powerful Instinct, and extinguish natural Affection,
debases his Mind even below Brutality, frustrates, as much as in him
lies, the great Design of Providence, and strikes out of his Nature one
of the most Divine Principles that is planted in it.
Among innumerable Arguments [which [3]] might be brought against such an
unreasonable Proceeding, I shall only insist on one. We make it the
Condition of our Forgiveness that we forgive others. In our very Prayers
we desire no more than to be treated by this kind of Retaliation. The
Case therefore before us seems to be what they call a Case in Point; the
Relation between the Child and Father being what comes nearest to that
between a Creature and its Creator. If the Father is inexorable to the
Child who has offended, let the Offence be of never so high a Nature,
how will he address himself to the Supreme Being under the tender
Appellation of a Father, and desire of him such a Forgiveness as he
himself refuses to grant?
To this I might add many other religious, as well as many prudential
Considerations; but if the last mentioned Motive does not prevail, I
despair of succeeding by any other, and shall therefore conclude my
Paper with a very remarkable Story, which is recorded in an old
Chronicle published by Freher, among the Writers of the German History.
[4]
Eginhart, who was Secretary to Charles the Great, became exceeding
popular by his Behaviour in that Post. His great Abilities gain'd him
the Favour of his Master, and the Esteem of the whole Court. Imma, the
Daughter of the Emperor, was so pleased with his Person and
Conversation, that she fell in Love with him. As she was one of the
greatest Beauties of the Age, Eginhart answer'd her with a more than
equal Return of Passion. They stifled their Flames for some Time, under
Apprehension of the fatal Consequences that might ensue. Eginhart at
length resolving to hazard all, rather than be deprived of one whom his
Heart was so much set upon, conveyed himself one Night into the
Princess's Apartment, and knocking gently at the Door, was admitted as a
Person [who [5]] had something to communicate to her from the Emperor.
He was with her in private most Part of the Night; but upon his
preparing to go away about Break of Day, he observed that there had
fallen a great Snow during his Stay with the Princess. This very much
perplexed him, lest the Prints of his Feet in the Snow might make
Discoveries to the King, who often used to visit his Daughter in the
Morning. He acquainted the Princess Imma with his Fears; who, after some
Consultations upon the Matter, prevailed upon him to let her carry him
through the Snow upon her own Shoulders. It happened, that the Emperor
not being able to sleep, was at that time up and walking in his Chamber,
when upon looking through the Window he perceived his Daughter tottering
under her Burden, and carrying his first Minister across the Snow; which
she had no sooner done, but she returned again with the utmost Speed to
her own Apartment. The Emperor was extreamly troubled and astonished at
this Accident; but resolved to speak nothing of it till a proper
Opportunity. In the mean time, Eginhart knowing that what he had done
could not be long a Secret, determined to retire from Court; and in
order to it begged the Emperor that he would be pleased to dismiss him,
pretending a kind of Discontent at his not having been rewarded for his
long Services. The Emperor would not give a direct Answer to his
Petition, but told him he would think of it, and [appointed [6]] a
certain Day when he would let him know his Pleasure. He then called
together the most faithful of his Counsellors, and acquainting them with
his Secretary's Crime, asked them their Advice in so delicate an Affair.
They most of them gave their Opinion, that the Person could not be too
severely punished who had thus dishonoured his Master. Upon the whole
Debate, the Emperor declared it was his Opinion, that Eginhart's
Punishment would rather encrease than diminish the Shame of his Family,
and that therefore he thought it the most adviseable to wear out the
Memory of the Fact, by marrying him to his Daughter. Accordingly
Eginhart was called in, and acquainted by the Emperor, that he should no
longer have any Pretence of complaining his Services were not rewarded,
for that the Princess Imma should be given [him [7]] in Marriage, with a
Dower suitable to her Quality; which was soon after performed
accordingly.