None but the guilty can be long and completely miserable.
Some assiduity was now required to make our present abode as convenient
as possible, and we were soon again qualified to enjoy our former
serenity. Being disabled myself from assisting my son in our usual
occupations, I read to my family from the few books that were saved,
and particularly from such, as, by amusing the imagination, contributed
to ease the heart. Our good neighbours too came every day with the
kindest condolence, and fixed a time in which they were all to assist
at repairing my former dwelling. Honest farmer Williams was not last
among these visitors; but heartily offered his friendship. He would
even have renewed his addresses to my daughter; but she rejected them
in such a manner as totally represt his future solicitations. Her grief
seemed formed for continuing, and she was the only person of our little
society that a week did not restore to cheerfulness. She now lost that
unblushing innocence which once taught her to respect herself, and to
seek pleasure by pleasing. Anxiety now had taken strong possession of
her mind, her beauty began to be impaired with her constitution, and
neglect still more contributed to diminish it. Every tender epithet
bestowed on her sister brought a pang to her heart and a tear to her
eye; and as one vice, tho’ cured, ever plants others where it has been,
so her former guilt, tho’ driven out by repentance, left jealousy and
envy behind. I strove a thousand ways to lessen her care, and even
forgot my own pain in a concern for her’s, collecting such amusing
passages of history, as a strong memory and some reading could suggest.
‘Our happiness, my dear,’ I would say, ‘is in the power of one who can
bring it about a thousand unforeseen ways, that mock our foresight. If
example be necessary to prove this, I’ll give you a story, my child,
told us by a grave, tho’ sometimes a romancing, historian.
‘Matilda was married very young to a Neapolitan nobleman of the first
quality, and found herself a widow and a mother at the age of fifteen.
As she stood one day caressing her infant son in the open window of an
apartment, which hung over the river Volturna, the child, with a sudden
spring, leaped from her arms into the flood below, and disappeared in a
moment. The mother, struck with instant surprize, and making all effort
to save him, plunged in after; but, far from being able to assist the
infant, she herself with great difficulty escaped to the opposite
shore, just when some French soldiers were plundering the country on
that side, who immediately made her their prisoner.
‘As the war was then carried on between the French and Italians with
the utmost inhumanity, they were going at once to perpetrate those two
extremes, suggested by appetite and cruelty. This base resolution,
however, was opposed by a young officer, who, tho’ their retreat
required the utmost expedition, placed her behind him, and brought her
in safety to his native city. Her beauty at first caught his eye, her
merit soon after his heart. They were married; he rose to the highest
posts; they lived long together, and were happy. But the felicity of a
soldier can never be called permanent: after an interval of several
years, the troops which he commanded having met with a repulse, he was
obliged to take shelter in the city where he had lived with his wife.
Here they suffered a siege, and the city at length was taken. Few
histories can produce more various instances of cruelty, than those
which the French and Italians at that time exercised upon each other.
It was resolved by the victors, upon this occasion, to put all the
French prisoners to death; but particularly the husband of the
unfortunate Matilda, as he was principally instrumental in protracting
the siege. Their determinations were, in general, executed almost as
soon as resolved upon. The captive soldier was led forth, and the
executioner, with his sword, stood ready, while the spectators in
gloomy silence awaited the fatal blow, which was only suspended till
the general, who presided as judge, should give the signal. It was in
this interval of anguish and expectation, that Matilda came to take her
last farewell of her husband and deliverer, deploring her wretched
situation, and the cruelty of fate, that had saved her from perishing
by a premature death in the river Volturna, to be the spectator of
still greater calamities. The general, who was a young man, was struck
with surprize at her beauty, and pity at her distress; but with still
stronger emotions when he heard her mention her former dangers. He was
her son, the infant for whom she had encounter’d so much danger. He
acknowledged her at once as his mother, and fell at her feet. The rest
may be easily supposed: the captive was set free, and all the happiness
that love, friendship, and duty could confer on each, were united.’
In this manner I would attempt to amuse my daughter; but she listened
with divided attention; for her own misfortunes engrossed all the pity
she once had for those of another, and nothing gave her ease. In
company she dreaded contempt; and in solitude she only found anxiety.
Such was the colour of her wretchedness, when we received certain
information, that Mr Thornhill was going to be married to Miss Wilmot,
for whom I always suspected he had a real passion, tho’ he took every
opportunity before me to express his contempt both of her person and
fortune. This news only served to encrease poor Olivia’s affliction;
such a flagrant breach of fidelity, was more than her courage could
support. I was resolved, however, to get more certain information, and
to defeat, if possible, the completion of his designs, by sending my
son to old Mr Wilmot’s, with instructions to know the truth of the
report, and to deliver Miss Wilmot a letter, intimating Mr Thornhill’s
conduct in my family. My son went, in pursuance of my directions, and
in three days returned, assuring us of the truth of the account; but
that he had found it impossible to deliver the letter, which he was
therefore obliged to leave, as Mr Thornhill and Miss Wilmot were
visiting round the country. They were to be married, he said, in a few
days, having appeared together at church the Sunday before he was
there, in great splendour, the bride attended by six young ladies, and
he by as many gentlemen. Their approaching nuptials filled the whole
country with rejoicing, and they usually rode out together in the
grandest equipage that had been seen in the country for many years. All
the friends of both families, he said, were there, particularly the
’Squire’s uncle, Sir William Thornhill, who bore so good a character.
He added, that nothing but mirth and feasting were going forward; that
all the country praised the young bride’s beauty, and the bridegroom’s
fine person, and that they were immensely fond of each other;
concluding, that he could not help thinking Mr Thornhill one of the
most happy men in the world.
‘Why let him if he can,’ returned I: ‘but, my son, observe this bed of
straw, and unsheltering roof; those mouldering walls, and humid floor;
my wretched body thus disabled by fire, and my children weeping round
me for bread; you have come home, my child, to all this, yet here, even
here, you see a man that would not for a thousand worlds exchange
situations. O, my children, if you could but learn to commune with your
own hearts, and know what noble company you can make them, you would
little regard the elegance and splendours of the worthless. Almost all
men have been taught to call life a passage, and themselves the
travellers. The similitude still may be improved when we observe that
the good are joyful and serene, like travellers that are going towards
home; the wicked but by intervals happy, like travellers that are going
into exile.’
My compassion for my poor daughter, overpowered by this new disaster,
interrupted what I had farther to observe. I bade her mother support
her, and after a short time she recovered. She appeared from that time
more calm, and I imagined had gained a new degree of resolution; but
appearances deceived me; for her tranquility was the langour of
over-wrought resentment. A supply of provisions, charitably sent us by
my kind parishioners, seemed to diffuse new cheerfulness amongst the
rest of the family, nor was I displeased at seeing them once more
sprightly and at ease. It would have been unjust to damp their
satisfactions, merely to condole with resolute melancholy, or to
burthen them with a sadness they did not feel. Thus, once more, the
tale went round and the song was demanded, and cheerfulness
condescended to hover round our little habitation.