The pleasures of travelling described, and the improvement a
sensible mind may receive from it: with some hints to the
censorious, not to be too severe on errors, the circumstances of
which they are ignorant of, occasioned by a remarkable instance of
an involuntary slip of nature.
Of all the countries Natura intended to see, Italy was that of which
he had entertained the most favourable idea:--his curiosity led him to
convince himself whether it really deserved to be intitled _the garden
of the world_; and therefore it was thither he resolved to make his
next progress.--Being told that in so long a journey he would find an
excessive expence, as well as incommodity, in travelling on horseback,
by reason he must be obliged to hire a guide from one place to
another, he sold his horses, and after having hired a post-chaise,
took leave of his acquaintance, and of a place where he had enjoyed
all the pleasures agreeable to a youthful taste.
He went by the way of Burgundy, and passing through Dijon proceeded to
Lyons, where the sight of the ruins of some Roman palaces yet
remaining there, the fine churches, and beautiful prospect that city
affords, being situated at the confluence of the rivers Rhone and
Soane, tempted him to stay some days.--He was one evening sitting with
his landlord in the inn-yard, when a post-chaise came in, out of which
alighted a gentleman and a lady, just by the place where they
were.--The man got up with all the obsequiousness of persons of his
calling, to bid them welcome, and shew them into a room:--the lady, in
passing, looked earnestly at Natura, and his eyes were no less
attached on her: he thought he saw in her face features he was
perfectly acquainted with, but could not, at that instant, recollect
where he had been so. Not so with her, she easily remembered him, and
in less than half an hour he received an invitation by his name from
these new guests to sup with them, which he accepted of with great
politeness, but said at the same time, he could not imagine to whom he
was obliged for that honour.--On his coming into the room, 'Difference
of habit,' said the lady, smiling, 'joined with the little probability
there was of meeting me in this place, may well disguise me from your
knowledge; but these impediments to remembrance, are not on your
account; monsieur Natura is the same in person at Lyons, as at the
convent of Riche Dames, though perhaps,' added she, 'somewhat changed
in mind.' There needed no more to make him know she was one of the two
nuns who always dined, when he was there, with the abbess, and was her
particular confidante.--'By what miracle, madam, are you here?' cried
he: 'by such another,' answered she, 'as might have brought Elgidia
here, had not an unlucky spirit put other thoughts into her head.'
She then proceeded to inform him, that loving, and being equally
beloved by the gentleman who was with her, she had made her escape
with him from the monastery, and was going with him into one of the
Protestant cantons of Switzerland, of which he was a native, and where
they were certain of being safe from any prosecutions, either from her
kindred, or the church.
Natura, after having made his compliments to the gentleman on the
occasion, enquired of her concerning the abbess and Elgidia; on which
she informed him of all the particulars related in the preceding
chapter; adding, that after the receipt of the two letters he had
sent, the sisters came to a mutual understanding, each confessed her
foible to the other, and the cause of their quarrel being for ever
removed, a sincere reconciliation between them ensued.
As gratitude is natural to the soul, and never is erased but by the
worst passions that can obtrude upon the human mind, Natura had enough
for these ladies to make him extremely glad no worse consequences had
attended their acquaintance with him, but was extremely merry, as they
were all indeed, at the story of the supposed spirit:--they passed the
best part of the night together in very entertaining discourses, and
the next day the two lovers proceeded on their journey to Switzerland,
as Natura the following one did his to Avignon.
Here again he halted for some time, to feast his eyes, and give
subject for future contemplation, on the magnificent buildings, fine
gardens, churches, and other curiosities, which he was told of, gave
him a sample, tho' infinitely short, of what he would find in
Rome;--the grandeur in which the nobility lived, the elegance and
politeness in the houses of even the lowest rank of gentry, and the
masquerades, balls, and other public diversions, which every night
afforded, made him already see that neither the pleasures, nor the
delicacies of life were confined to Paris.
The desire of novelty is inherent to a youthful heart, and nothing so
much gratifies that passion as travelling:--variety succeeds
variety;--whether you climb the craggy mountains, or traverse the
flowery vale;--whether thick woods set limits to the light, or the
wide common yields unbounded prospect;--whether the ocean rolls in
solemn state before you, or gentle streams run purling by your side,
nature in all her different shapes delights; each progressive day
brings with it fresh matter to admire, and every stage you come to
presents at night customs and manners new and unknown before.
The stupendous mountains of the Alps, after the plains and soft
embowered recesses of Avignon, gave perhaps a no less grateful
sensation to the mind of Natura: he wanted indeed such a companion as
death had deprived him of in his good governor, to instruct him how to
improve contemplation, and to moralize on the amazing and different
objects he beheld; yet as his thoughts were now wholly at liberty, and
his reason unclouded by any passions of what kind soever, he did not
fail to make reflections suitable to the different occasions.
Whoever has seen Rome will acknowledge he must find sufficient there
to exercise all his faculties; but though the architecture, and the
paintings which ornament that august city might have engrossed his
whole attention, the many venerable reliques which were shewn him of
old Rome, appeared yet more lovely in his eyes; which shews the charms
antiquity has for persons even of the most gay dispositions: but this,
according to my opinion, is greatly owing to the prejudice of
education, which forces us as it were to an admiration of the
antients, meerly because they are so, and not that they are in any
essential respect always deserving that vast preference given them
over the moderns:--this may be easily proved by the exorbitant prices
some of our virtuoso's give for pieces of old copper, which are
reckoned the most valuable, as the inscriptions or figures on them are
least legible.
Natura, however, was not so absorbed in his admiration of the ruined
corner of a bath, or the half-demolished portico of an amphitheatre,
as to neglect those entertainments which more affect the senses, and
consequently give the most natural delight;--the exquisite music
performed at the churches, carried him there much oftener than
devotion would have done, and rarely did he fail the opera at night.
As the Romans are allowed to be the best bred people upon earth,
especially to strangers, be they of what country or perswasion soever,
neither the being an Englishman or a Protestant hindered him from
making very good acquaintance, and receiving the greatest civilities
from them; but the person to whom he was most obliged, and who indeed
had taken a particular fancy to him, was the younger son of the family
of Caranna: this nobleman, knowing his taste for music, would
frequently take him with him to his box at the opera-house, most
persons of condition having little closets or boxes to themselves, of
which every one keeps his own key, and none can be admitted but by
it:--nothing can be more indulging, as there are curtains to draw
before them, and the seats are made in such a manner that the person
may lie down at his ease.
The signior of Caranna being otherwise engaged one night, when a
celebrated piece was to be performed, he lent his key to Natura,
unknowing that his wife, who had also one, had made a compliment of
her's to a young lady of her acquaintance.
Natura by some accident being delayed from going till after the opera
began, on entering was surprized to find a very beautiful young person
there, stretched on the sopha:--as he had been told the box would be
intirely empty, he knew not whether he ought to retire or go forward
and seat himself by her:--this consideration kept him some minutes in
the posture he was in, and perceiving she was too much taken up with
the music, either to have heard him open the door, or see him after he
came in, he had the opportunity of feasting his eyes, with gazing on
the thousand charms she was mistress of; all which were displayed to a
great advantage by the shadowy light which gleamed from the stage
thro' a thin crimson taffety curtain, which she had drawn before her,
to the end she might neither be seen by others, nor see any thing
herself which might take off her attention from the music.
In fine, he drew near, and had placed himself close by her before she
observed him; but no sooner did so, than she started, and appeared in
some confusion: he made a handsome apology for the intrusion, which he
assured her, with a great deal of truth, was wholly owing to chance,
and said he would withdraw, if his presence would be any interruption
to the pleasure she proposed:--she seemed obliged to him for the
offer, but told him she would not abuse the proof he gave of his
complaisance by accepting it; on which he bowed, and continued in his
place.
Both the music, and the words, seemed intended to lull the soul into a
forgetfulness of all beside, and fill it only with soft ideas:--it had
at least this effect upon the lady, who had closed her eyes, and was
in reality lost to every other sense than that of hearing.--Natura,
either was, or pretended to be, equally transported, and sunk
insensibly upon her bosom, without any opposition on her part:--she
had possibly even forgot she was not alone, and when an air full of
the most inchanting tenderness was singing, was so much dissolved in
extasy, that crying out, 'O God, 'tis insupportable!' she threw her
arms over Natura's neck, who was still in the same posture I just
mentioned;--he spoke not a word, but was not so absorbed in the
gratification of one faculty, as to let slip the gratification of the
others:--he seized the lucky moment;--he pressed her close, and in
this trance of thought, this total absence of mind, stole himself, as
it were, into the possession of a bliss, which the assiduity of whole
years would perhaps never have been able to obtain.
Reason and thought at last returned; she opened her eyes, she knew to
what the rapture she had been in had exposed her, and was struck with
the most poignant shame and horror:--she broke with all her force from
that strict embrace in which he had continued to hold her; and being
withdrawn to the farther corner of the closet,--'What have I done,'
cried she, 'What have I done!'--these words she repeated several
times, and accompanied them with tears, wringing her hands, and every
testimony of remorse.--It was in vain for him to attempt to pacify
her, much less to prevail on her to suffer any second proofs of his
tenderness;--she would not even give him leave to touch her hand, and
on his offering it, pushed him back, saying, 'No, stranger! you have
taken the advantage of my _insensibility_ but shall never triumph over
my _reason_, which enables me to hate you,--to fly from you for ever,
as from a serpent.'
Natura said every thing that love and wit could inspire, to reconcile
her to what had past; but she remained inflexible, and only
condescended to request him to leave the place before the opera was
ended, that they might not be seen coming out together, and that he
would tell signior Carrana, that having unexpectedly found a lady in
the box, he had withdrawn without entering.--He then begged she would
entertain a more favourable opinion of an action, which her beauty,
the bewitching softness of the entertainment, and the place they were
in, had all concurred to make him guilty of; but she would listen to
nothing on that head, insisted on his never taking the least notice of
her, wherever they might chance to meet; and only told him, that tho'
she was unalterably fixed in this resolution, yet he might depend upon
it she hated him less than she did herself.
Finding she was not to be moved, he obeyed her commands, and straight
went out of the box, more amazed at the oddness of the adventure, than
can be well expressed; and yet more so, when he afterwards heard she
was the wife of a person of great condition, was in the first month of
her marriage with him, and had the reputation of a woman of strict
virtue.
As this false step was meerly accidental, wholly unpremeditated on
either side, and by what can be judged by the character of the lady,
and her behaviour afterwards, was no more on her part than a surprize
on the senses, in which the mind was not consulted, and had not the
least share, I know not whether it may not more justly be called a
slip of unguarded nature, than a real crime in her; and as for Natura,
though certainly the most guilty of the two, whoever considers his
youth, his constitution, and above all the greatness of the
temptation, which presented itself before him, will allow, that he
must either have been _more_, or _less_, than _man_, to have behaved
otherwise than he did.
Let the most severely virtuous, who happily have never fallen into the
same error, but figure to themselves the circumstances of this
transgressing pair, and well consider in what manner nature must
operate, when thus powerfully excited, and if they are not rendered
totally incapable of any soft sensations, by an uncommon frigidity of
constitution, they will cease either to wonder at, or too cruelly
condemn, the effects of so irresistible an impulse.
Were it not for the precepts of religion and morality, the fears of
scandal, and shame of offending against law and custom, man would
undoubtedly think himself intitled to the same privileges which the
brute creation in this point enjoy above him; and it is not therefore
strange, that whenever reason nods, as it sometimes will do, even in
those who are most careful to preserve themselves under its
subjection, that the senses ever craving, ever impatient for
gratification, should readily snatch the opportunity of indulging
themselves, and which it is observable they ordinarily do to the
greater excess, by so much the longer, and the more strictly they have
been kept under restraint.